#biker hwa
Text
This world
THIS IS 18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI FOR BIKER!HWA'S SAKE (nsfw tags under the cut) (masterlist) (join taglist)
🏍️ pairing: biker!seonghwa x f!reader
🏍️ genre: romance, fluff, action, smut, strangers to lovers, slight enemies to lovers, smidgen of angst, sprinkles of comedy
🏍️ summary: caught between the past and present, you search for a new beginning in night city as a mechanic at outlaw customs. how will a fateful encounter with seonghwa, the leader of the blue birds, help you feel alive?
🏍️ wordcount: 16.2k
🏍️ warnings/tags: biker!hwa, quick edit, likely inaccuracies in mechanics and motorcycles, mechanic!yunho, businessman!jongho, biker!yeosang, mechanic!reader, tattooed!reader, gang life/activity, misuse of lore terminology, language, food, wounds/injuries, pain, bike chases and dangerous tricks, talk of death/rebirth, identity searching, imagery and setting inspired by outlaw trailers, lmk if anything else
🏍️ a/n: i gave myself a one day break, listened to a dream i had... and this happened. totally was not spooked today and rushed to edit in a feverish state... always, any notes, reblogs and comments are appreciated, much love~
🏍️ a/n pt2: biker!hwa supremacy also spreads to the exchange event hosted by @kflixnet for @qqtxt (and thank you @alohajun for organising!) - hope you enjoy!!
🏍️ perma-taglist: @doom-fics @acciocriativity @justhere4kpop @honey-lemon-goose @byuntrash101 @shakalakaboomboo @starillusion13 @hongthoven @cqndiedcherries @uwuheeseungie @cheollipop @frankenstein852 @charreddonuts @miriamxsworld @mingigoo @michel-angelhoe @innsomniacshinestar @foxinnie8 @preciouswoozi @wooyoungjpg @nebulousbookshelf @wowie-hockey @hongjoongs-patience @ssaboala @jaehunnyy @kitten4sannie @maddkitt @yunbug
🏍️ cannot be tagged: @mystar1024
🏍️ nsfw tags: condom used, slow, a dom!leaning reader with a soft!hwa, handjob, slight edging, praise, save a bike - ride a biker, focus on intimacy and emotional experience, some mutual masturbation, f!masturbation, literally just two people in love with each other, cuddling and implied aftercare
The artificial suns of Night City shone bright in a palette of neon hues, so vivid and vibrant that one could almost forget that there had ever been a real star in the first place. Kids wished on blinking lightbulbs and travellers followed endless expanses of darkness, more accustomed to uncertainty than the belief that there was a veritable ally in the form of a celestial sign or a constellation. Everyone wore the same perfume: an acrid concoction of smog, grease and disgust that lingered whenever a visitor from another district came by, blending to form a hatred for all things that existed outside of the palace of neon. This was the palace that you had willingly made your home, and found that if you were to shut your eyes and then dare to peek through your lashes at the kaleidoscopic landscape, it took on the shape of an eloquent illusion of divinity. A rudimentary vision, a utopia carved out in impermanence, commanded by wishful thinking and a desire for anything except what you had known. This was your new home, and you were going to try as you might to cling to it, and find peace amidst the suffocating starless expanse.
You had arrived without a particular plan in mind, with only a rucksack and the tattoos decorating your skin to keep you company on your journey. The only persistent parasite that gnawed at your flesh and jolted you awake like a scalding whip when the roads seemed to be endless, was a burning desire to erase anything, everything that served as a reminder. While you were a believer in growing from the past, and reflecting on it, treating each memory and learned skill as a stepping stone towards a better future, the weight of each step was overwhelming, the gaps between them unbearable, and soon enough, you found yourself to be stretched too thin over your own existence, to the point where you had gained an alarming transparency, one tiny step away from disappearing into the lack of self that you had wholly succumbed to until your sudden evaporation and accidental escape to Night City.
At the same time, you were not entirely ungrateful for the ‘you’ you had become. The miscellaneous arsenal of know-how and street smarts landed you a job, had you settled into a group of people who did not seem too bad and most importantly did not ask too many questions, gave you a roof over your head and had you working long hours in the garage from the get-go. That, from your experience, was the best way to forget and to start anew. So long as you did not speak to your clients more than necessary, instead focusing on their priceless metal steeds that you had the pleasure of tinkering with for hours on end. In this way, you got to see your clients at their most vulnerable, scrutinising you but so helpless that it nearly made you laugh, comparing the scene to a child watching their mother patch up a toy that they had torn after playing a little too roughly.
This approach turned out to be the one that won the big bucks in the city. Less talk, more trust. And resulted in the previously sceptical owners of the mechanic shop you had strolled into on your first day in town, passively protecting the shell of the self that you carried, uncaring for what fate had in store, to finally begin to warm up to you and treat you less like a pest, and more like a colleague. Only took them a couple of months. Though it would be foolish to hope for anything else, so you had simply settled into the rhythm of waking up, heading downstairs from the crammed studio that they had offered you - a stuffy dark corner, definitely the humblest abode but more than enough to crash in and more than generous for a person who had been a total stranger, and going to a different open cave in the garage and workshop, this time one dedicated to all things motorcycle. Since Outlaw Customs, a name which you had found incredibly comedic and ironic considering a high percentage of the clientele fit the shop description, was primarily for automobiles, there was not much dedicated to the untameable beauties that you loved so much. The head of the shop, a young man by the name of Jeong Yunho who you swore spent more time under cars than under those neon lights outside, did motorcycle repairs mainly out of necessity, following the recipes for replacement, so to speak. The locals knew that to see his craftsmanship, mastery and artistry at work, they needed to let him get his hands on a car. Of course, it did not mean that he could not fix bikes, far from that, in fact, over the years and especially after another mechanic shop was busted by the forces and forced to close for something or other - no one could ever guess what new crime was added to the list on any given day, Yunho was proud to say that he did not need to consult his hefty stack of manuals for when the most regular clients came by. But it did still mean that when he found out that he could pass off the task to a new hire, he did it in a split second, without sparing it a single thought.
As such, it was you, your beloved corner in the workshop, and a tranquillity under those buzzing fluorescent bulbs lined up on the ceiling. Not talking much, mainly business, occasionally sharing a laugh with your coworkers. They were easy to like, that much you had gathered over the months of being paid in shelter, food, water, and whatever else you needed so long as you kept on working to keep the brutes of Night City happy and the engines roaring. While the other guy in charge, Choi Jongho, an initially unreadable, unpredictable man who appeared in the store at random and mainly handled the ‘financials’, whatever it meant and you sure as all things bad were not about to get your nose in that side of the business, was somewhat less cordial with you, your nonchalance when it came to social interaction had put him at ease, along with, how he had it, your hands that told your story. Interesting what he could spot under the machine grease and fading ink.
It was another timeless day where Jongho was out for what he called ‘negotiations’ - again you did not need to know what it meant so long as the parts kept coming, Yunho was messing about with an old mustang that the customer said could be changed according to the mechanic’s own tastes, and you were idle, having just completed a re-flash of an engine control unit for a rider who apparently had nothing to lose and let you fully reconfigure his precious in the hopes of improving rideability. Same old for you, but nevertheless exciting when a new person gets so vulnerable so as to give their bike up with only faith in their hands, and in yours.
Wheeling the bike away from the main platform, you parked it right at the empty section by the brick wall lining the inner part of the garage, the aftermath of a miniature spring clean you had carried out to prep the workspace for a higher volume of bikes coming through. After patting the seat, as if lulling the machine into a slumber, you covered it with a tarp to protect it from any other dust or sparks - and subconsciously, from curious eyes if there were any that would peek into the shop. You stood up straight, taking the towel from your shoulder and attempting to wipe off the remains of your work, though much like your boss, who was now humming some random tune that he probably heard at one of the underground clubs, took pride in each stain, each streak of dirt. It was a reminder that you were here, you were present and alive, and that you were doing what others could never do exactly like you could. If anything, it was a breath of fresh air, the only one that could be ever taken in any Sector, in any City that existed in this nation, and you were almost convinced that this spread to the whole world.
Finding the stool on wheels that apparently used to belong to a nearby barbershop until that closed down, you sat down and sighed, rocking side to side by repeatedly pushing yourself with your feet before getting tired of the motion and rolling across to a workbench that you and Yunho had managed to craft out of a multi-shelved storage unit abandoned on the street, clearly another Sector’s kind donation to the local community, and you were not too proud nor picky. Picking up a brake pedal - a part off a ruined Kawasaki Ninja 2H/R that the universe threw into your arms after the wreck and helped you salvage, somewhat out of respect for the beast that it had been in its heyday, somewhat because you wondered if you could make it work on a horrific Frankenstein’s monster hybrid someday, or another bike of the same make, you twisted it, metal glinting white. The weight of memories, the feeling of it pressing against the foot despite the thick layers of rubber on the boot. Everything about that bike was as hypnotising as a dancing open flame, stunning, an engineering masterpiece, and one that you were praying to revisit, re-experience even if it was the last thing you were to ever do. Perhaps in a distant dream. Replacing the component in a top drawer of the bench, you got to work on signing off on the work completed, not that anyone even had a legal signature anymore, it was more of a quick doodle to hint at the work completed, just in case if the rider were to find themselves too far away, and had no method of fixing faults and could not recall the mods made. As if that would ever happen; you exhaled sharply, finishing the swift sketch and folding the paper in half, then into quarters and dropping the pen to let it hit the back wall. It was suspiciously peaceful at the OC, you concluded, unsettling. Only Yunho going about his business, the artificial cylindrical suns, and the neon climbing from the outside and coating the front entrance to the garage in shades of blue, purple and magenta.
You waited in suspense, having caught the echoes of an engine in the far distance - still a few too many blocks away from you to determine what the source of it was exactly, but nevertheless, your instincts and the obvious approach of the sound was telling you that you were soon going to find out. Shutting your eyes, you made out an odd stuttering, reminiscent of a coughing fit in a human, as if the air system was out of tune, totally whack on the poor vehicle. The heart ached. Who could possibly mistreat a bike in such a way? Clutching onto the fabric of your black cargo trousers that you had decided would be something of a uniform for you, you listened on, confused. The rumble was familiar, albeit torn up and in need of a fix. Nonetheless, this was a powerful steed, a respectable monster that you could not wait to dissect and reassemble. Hands beginning to burn with excitement, heart starting to race, you stared off into the wall, waiting for the customer to arrive and made your guesses as to what the motorcycle could be like any mechanic in need of a fun pastime would. If you guessed correctly, you were in for an exhilarating time.
Soon enough, you heard the bike grind to a halt outside of the shop, and the thump of feet hitting the concrete. Not yet looking up, you waited for the figure to approach and cross the line that marked the end of the driveway and the beginning of the garage. Hearing Yunho make a move to roll out from under the car, evidently after having seen the boots form below and recognising them, you began your own sign of common courtesy and moved to turn and stand from the stool.
“Good time of day, welcome to Outlaw Customs how may I-”
“Rear wheel is busted and the mudguard’s wrecked on the right edge, and the spark plugs need replacing - totally fouling. Can you do that in two hours? I’m on a tight schedule.
You froze, the politeness caught in your throat and fizzling out to be replaced with an astonishment at the crudeness. Raising your head to let yourself inspect the man before you fully, you found that he looked every bit like the arrogance that had oozed from the first words he spoke to you. The flashy black and orange outfit, the glimmering belt buckle, the damn chains… the usual lowlife from a gang who had nothing better to do than to be the pretty boy. Slowly, your hope for the particular bike you had placed mental bets on dissipated, to be replaced by a wish that this hoodlum had a standard no-name, beat up and totally not worth the money ride that you could half-ass and let him disappear.
With a sigh, you heaved yourself forward, approaching the biker with a cold resolve and purposefully taking your time with every movement, seeing as the less you had to speak, the higher were the chances that you were not going to cuss this man out and focus on the work you had set out for you. Knowing the bikers from these parts, either they were too knowledgeable and could diagnose correctly enough, or they were so utterly wrong that you wanted to bash their head in. Time would tell which one of the two this guy was. Before you could get a word in, much to your fortune, Yunho was by your side and wiping his hands to give the black-haired man a firm handshake. You noted that the visitor was shorter than your boss, giving you a slight inner satisfaction for an unknown reason, but you bit any remarks back and remained stone faced, seeing as you were not sure just how hostile this man was going to be towards you.
“Seonghwa, long time no see!” your boss greeted the man who now had a name, very animated, amiable. You raised an eyebrow, tilting your head in a silent question.
“I see you have a new hire. Business doing well?” being addressed in third person was unsettling, but it was better than attempting to hold eye contact with the biker who gave you the urge to forget professionalism and throw a punch at lightning speed. It was hilarious how quickly your instincts returned to you in such circumstances.
“Guess you could say that, thanks to her, mainly.” with a playful smugness Yunho responded, placing a hand on your shoulder. If you did not know better, you would think that he was showing off, but his glance at you, a quick check, and his gestures made you think of your brother. Bittersweet, but still a fond series of chapters.
“Oh?” it was impossible to tell whether Seonghwa was mocking you or just taking the piss of the tenseness that he brought with him, but the bugger dared to pretend to be pleased with your presence, nearly making you scowl. But you were too good at treating people with an unnerving neutrality, so an unperturbed mechanic ready to inspect the ride you remained, much to the biker’s dissatisfaction.
You could tell that he put up a front of sorts, an attention-seeking, egoistic and merciless front, the presentation of the mentality of a murderer on the road, the man who would not hesitate to lead you into a ruin just for laughs. It was always fun to dismantle the nerve cells of such bastards; all you needed was his bike. His eyes found yours quickly enough, confident, unwavering, and your lips curled into a close-mouthed smile as if you were not just pondering the destruction of his ego. A flash of what could only be described as curiosity passed over his irises, and you swore you saw his pupils adjust as if they were a camera lens ready to capture you. His gaze travelled down your body and back up again, studying you, taking you in, settling on the tattoos that adorned your forearms and were revealed by you having pushed up the sleeves of the black turtleneck you were wearing. What was he searching for, you asked yourself before you noticed the solitary, dangling earring on his left ear discovering a single silver feather on its end. Of course he had to be a Blue Bird. Of course he had to be a so-called peace keeper of the city. No wonder he was so full of himself, at least upon first meeting. Now you really wanted to see his bike.
“Motor master, I tell you. Can sort out your beauty in no time.”
“I’ll believe it when I see it.” Seonghwa squinted, earning an eye roll from your boss.
“Got you, yeah. Anyways, meet Y/N,” the man turned to you once again, seeing how your expression remained unchanged, “she’ll be finding common ground with your bike from now on. “Noticing how neither of you spoke nor made a move to greet, Yunho raised his hands and continued while ambling back to the car, “Now, now, don’t talk over one another, you will have plenty of time to chat.”
“So,” you began, not wishing to remain unproductive any longer and wanting to rid yourself of this client as soon as possible, “Seongh-”
“Mars.”
“Mars?”
“You address me as Mars.” he commanded, crossing his arms, the corner of his lip curling up as you searched for the right response, but quickly falling as you suppressed the desire to sneer and merely adjusted yourself to the pesky, petty demands. You had met worse, much worse than the urban chic version of hierarchy and names. Mars was something you could deal with easily enough, and gave you a lot more insight than Seonghwa could imagine.
“Mars, care to show me your bike?”
“Mm. Follow me, Y/N.” he emphasised your name, as if the fact that you did not have a title nor a nickname gave him some odd power trip - to be frank, it would not be surprising if this actually was the case.
As you followed him out to the front, you noticed his gait was ever so slightly out of balance, a miniscule limp, likely following an injury. Again, something so common with your customers, but made you soften up the tiniest bit - in some senses Seonghwa reminded you of a wild animal that was pretending to be strong. Frustrating, yes, but he was out there trying his best to survive in the way that he knew and could. Much like everybody else, including yourself. You kept your gaze trained on the man’s back as you walked on until you very quickly found yourself right in front of the beast whose roar you had heard from all that distance away. You broke into a full grin, making Seonghwa’s brows knit together as he became perplexed. As it turned out, your prediction was more than right, and before you was a gorgeous, sleek, though having seen some battles, Suzuki Hayabusa. Customised, adored and kept pristine from what you could see. The damage that the motorised excellence had sustained looked to be new, perhaps even acquired a mere couple of hours ago, but other than that the steed was the closest you had seen to true love in Night City. It was clear that despite Seonghwa offering not the best impression, the bike told a different story, and as you crouched down to briefly inspect it at proximity, you nearly gasped. Each valve, each tiny detail was treated with kindness and affection, as if this man spent every spare moment only caring for it. The paint did made you want to giggle, however. Aside from the signature hanja for peregrine falcon, purposefully highlighted with neat strokes of paint to highlight the engineering finesse and power contained in the supreme machine, the motorcycle was completed in a dual tone, with the majority of the body done in a midnight black, and the detailing and smaller body components being done in a copper orange - stunning complement to the outfit of the rider, a full unit of owner and two-wheeler. One body, one mind. If you could start your first impression here, your thoughts of Seonghwa would be a lot more friendly, you determined. But that was the beauty of being a mechanic, you got to know people a lot closer, in secret, unknown to them. This man had a soul on fire. A soul he was attempting to hide, a soul that manifested itself in one of the fastest production motorcycles. And a soul that most certainly knew what was wrong with its metal body - the diagnoses were pleasantly accurate.
“What are you smiling for?”
“Hm, let’s get this beauty in the garage, yeah?”
He obliged, but still did not let you touch the vehicle as he pushed it along until you told him where to leave it. Occupying an old armchair right by the platform where you fixed the bike in place, Seonghwa watched your every move, scrutinised you as you started your work on the Busa, impatient. It was customary for the bikers that came to OC to remain here like a spouse waiting for their loved one to come out of surgery, but his predator-like focus was beginning to get unsettling and ruined your concentration. You could not speak to the bike in front of you, you could not gain its trust while its owner was staring you down like you were about to tear everything apart and turn the motorcycle into scraps. Letting a tool fall onto the mat that you had rolled down on the floor, you raised your head an deadpanned to the man, catching him off-guard:
“It’ll be three hours since I expect you want the guard done up all pretty. Get me jjajangmyeon from the place down the street and I might speed it up to your optimistic two.”
Yunho’s guffaw resonated across the shop as he heard your statement and imagined the shocked look on Seonghwa’s face upon receiving the daring request. Indeed, the man was more than taken aback, curious as to how important you deemed yourself to talk to him in such style. But at the same time, it was beyond amusing. The cheek, the attitude behind a cold and monotone sentence was alluring. There was something more to you than what Yunho had proposed, and that was reassuring. Perhaps you did have the right energy to find common ground with his priceless Suzuki. Still, the first word to escape him as he recoiled from the jab was an airy question of:
“What?” quickly countered with:
“They do late night deals. Half price. If you get there within the next half hour that is. Get Yunho and yourself a bowl while you’re at it and I’ll get the job done to fit your busy schedule and be enviable.”
“Boss, are you hungry?” you called out to Yunho, who was still giggling from under the vehicle, making it appear as if the car itself was caught in a comedy.
“Aye.”
“Done then, Mars, would you be a dear and do an orbit there and back?” you could not stop yourself from bringing his chosen, given or acquired through a brutal climb name into the mix. The opportunity was just too much of a low hanging fruit to not take it.
You were playing with fire, that much was certain. You could tell that he was contemplating putting you on a hitlist; not something that you were not used to, seeing as you were still in a client-facing role even if a lot of your time was spent with silent steely beauties. But you took a risk with Seonghwa, you ceased to be careful, spurred on by the euphoric prospect of treating the customised, souped up and customised Hayabusa, and took a shot in the dark with your forwardness. As the blood that was pumping in your ears got louder with every passing moment, and you began to doubt whether this was the right call to make to get some along time with the steed, Seonghwa stirred after his ponderings. Rising from the armchair, the chains that adorned his neck glinting under the lights, he stretched more for show than for comfort and exhaled through his nose, suppressing a chuckle.
“Ask for jjamppong on top of that and I will snap your arms in half.”
“You are too kind.” catching him mid turn, you responded, making him look back, and give you a playful, mischievous glance over his shoulder, almost boyish, as if the two of you were good friends that were used to the banter.
Releasing a breath that you did not realise you had been holding after the man disappeared from view, you returned to the Suzuki that was gracing your vision. Yunho’s laughter had subsided, and once again the buzz of the lights was the only thing that was between you and total silence. Diving into your work, you read the story etched into the curves, the miniscule dents, the scratches that were invisible to the naked eye but still there, hinting at just how much the bike and, evidently, the rider went through. The fixes were going to be complicated, but nothing that you could not do with what you had in the shop. You rested a hand on the engine, thinking of your next move, and of the dark glimmering orbs of the biker whose soul was still right here with you, watching, inspecting, but attempting, bit by bit, to trust that you would do the mechanical masterpiece justice. Of course you would, you were getting a late dinner for it after all. Besides, it was easy to love such a stunning bike, especially when you could see that it was truly loved by its owner. A soft smile on your face, you leaned forward and got back to dismantling a broken detail from the main body, already excited for the inner workings you would see behind it; the closest thing to true light that one could get in the sadistic, somnolent city of neon and night.
After the first appointment came another, and another, and more after that. The Busa almost became your personal project as what had previously been menial tasks carried out by an amateur mechanic and devilish rider, now fell to you. You knew this motorcycle better than you knew all of your tattoos, that much you were sure of. From the piping to the seating to the turbocharger you had installed, it was clear enough that Seonghwa was more than willing to let you tinker with the bike as much as he wanted you too, which with every unscheduled drop in became longer and longer. At times, Yunho would be there to participate in some idle chatter, other times, it was merely you and him on your own, either in a perfect stillness, with only the bike making the music and talking for you both, or with the occasional question thrown in either direction.
You had found out bit by bit that Seonghwa was, as you had assumed, a member of the Blue Birds - the local crew of vigilantes, from what your boss and your ghost of a boss had told you. Brutal and unforgiving, they had taken it upon themselves to maintain something of an order in the district, though you never asked for the details on how exactly they did it. You had learned over your lifetime to ask less, unless it was about mechanics; that was always a safe bet, and a point that you would always return to if you felt the conversation going into a direction that you did not wish to explore. All other inquiries normally answered themselves from what you noticed - for instance, the limp was now gone, to be replaced by rather grim looking knuckles. But again, no comment from you. It was above your pay grade. Seonghwa, at some point, had also caught onto your avoidance and tendency to cling onto bikes for conversation, but had taken it upon himself to probe further and further through what you considered to be a strong enough barrier, to figure out why exactly was one of your tattoos on the right forearm a mark that he had avoided at all costs when he was still a youngster back in the place he used to go home, many kilometres away, now reachable through highways to hell. He could not ask directly, not when you could clog up his air filters or ruin the braking system right then and there, but curiosity was getting the better of him as the weeks turned into months, and you were doing your regular check up on the Busa.
“What’s your favourite bike, Y/N?”
“Why the sudden question?”
“Why answer a question with a question?”
“Hm… yours is pretty good.” you tried to brush his inquiry away, even though your mind instantly went to the answer, and remained stuck. You could hear the engine resonate in your chest, and could feel the handles in your palms, as you gripped onto them, tighter, tighter and turned. The feeling of a machine coming to life right beneath you, ready to race into the darkness and obey your every instruction. Turn after turn after turn. Somewhere along that race, you lost your soul, and longed for it. Blinking slowly, you hoped that Seonghwa would leave the conversation where it was, but knew that he was going to do everything except that.
“No but really. Every mechanic, every biker has their favourites. Hell, even Yunho has one and he doesn’t really work on them anymore.” leaning forward to rest his head in the palm of his hand as his elbow positioned itself on his right thigh, he focused on your response, down to the body language and each one of your cells could feel it.
“Hard to pick.” Again, vague, but you wanted to get away, hide yourself. The sensation of the brakes, how the loyal companion to your every conquest could glide across the streets and halt just when you wanted it to, make impossible turns and let you caress the ground through thick gloves that have seen the wildest tricks and fastest getaways… it was all far too vivid. Too much for you to bring up while you were trying to work. Swallowing your spit, you shook your head slightly as Seonghwa commented that you were not responding to him.
“What do you want me to say?”
“What you are thinking about.”
“And what am I thinking about?” abandoning the Busa, you gave the body a wipe with towel and dropped it to the floor, raising yourself up you fell onto the spinny stool, and eyed Seonghwa right back, despising the smirk that was threatening to break out on his lips that were far to soft and lush for a damn outlaw.
“The bike. Your bike. You used to ride, didn’t you?”
“...Hm.”
“I can feel it. No need to pretend.” he had already formed his suspicions. In fact, he had put two and two together a long enough time ago. All he needed was a confirmation, a mention of that same bike that he had heard of, a name to a face that had haunted him for as long as he was leading the Blue Birds.
“Yeah. I did. Not anymore though.” your voice grew colder, dismissive as you turned to look out at the neon lights. A flicker caught your attention - the sign for the Japanese restaurant that opened and closed only when the owner wanted to was caught in a starlike sparkling, the fluctuating light making it seem as though the luminescence was alive. Alive. Curious choice of words.
“What was it?”
“It?”
“Let’s start with the bike.”
“Is this an interrogation?”
“Just curious, no biggie.”
Afraid of what you could say if you were to dive into elaborating your memories and sentimentality, you stood up and walked to the work bench, retrieving the component that you had brought with you to the city, and kept it with you at all times. Giving it one last look, you strode over to an expectant and enthusiastic Seonghwa, motioning for him to stretch out his hands. As you watched him inspect the item, turning it and checking each nook and cranny, your heart felt heavy. Was it really that long since the brake pedal was attached to the swift stunner? A glorious ink black, with piping of the skeleton completed in a vibrant poisonous green. A nightmare. Your love, your priceless dream.
“A Kawasaki?” he whispered half to himself. So it was how he had indeed attempted to predict.
“Kawasaki Ninja H2R.”
“Two hundred and twenty-eight kilowatts without ram-air?”
“I played around with that.”
“Sure you did. Wow. Really that’s pretty.”
“Mhm.” you took the brake pedal from Seonghwa’s hands, returning it back to the drawer.
Suddenly, it all felt too real. The last moments raw, the feeling that the motorcycle was still with you, still outside, parked and patiently waiting for you, was too clear in your head that you had attempted to train to believe that that stage in your life was over. Done. Finished. You had crossed the metaphorical finish line and that was all there was to it. But Seonghwa was not letting up, instead choosing to dig into the wound and watch as blood began to trickle.
“Now that explains it.”
“What?” you knew you were going to regret asking, but did so still.
“The tattoo.”
“What tattoo?” your eyes narrowed as you propped yourself against the bench and crossed your arms.
“The one on your arm. The right one.” he pointed as if he just won a game of spot the difference, leaving you irritated.
“What of it? I have many.”
“Not one that belongs to the Black Pirates. I am no fool, Y/N. I’ve seen the mark before and truthfully, I am surprised you are still alive.”
“I am too.” you huffed, finding your boots to be awfully interesting.
“Sacrificed the bike?”
You did not answer. You did not want to answer because it was clear that Seonghwa could answer the question for you. And for that, you loathed him in that given moment, despite overall finding his company to be almost comforting in recent weeks. In reality, the Kawasaki saved you from utter demise. Sliding on its side across the highway at record speed, sparks flying in the air and the screeching penetrating through your helmet to embed itself into your bones, the bike made it seem as though you were truly done for when, as luck would have it, you had gotten away with only a few scratches and a lot of foliage clinging to the torn up leather you had worn. As you had made your leap off the out of control beauty, the hero fighting its last battle it collided with cement to split and crumble into smithereens, the fuel tank pierced and beginning to seep out the fluid. A couple of gunshots later, and the bike was caught aflame, and all you could see from the group below where you had fallen, was the occasional licks, smoke and more sparks, your soul departing the metal body. The brake pedal, by some odd circumstance, had flown off and landed in your direction, nearly crashing into your visor. You had cradled it in your hands, sliding down on your back further and further to the moist earth beneath the highway until you were totally concealed from all viewpoints, hidden by pillars and rusted armature. When you were sure that those who you had called family, called friends, called comrades sped away, confident that you were there splattered on the cement and roasting, thanks to the bag that had been left on the seats serving practically as a dummy, you had begun to weep, never knowing for what, but certain that you were not yourself anymore. You had died.
Unbeknownst to you, as your vision blurred and mist settled to accompany the rising melancholia, Seonghwa had risen from the armchair and cautiously stepped closer and closer to you, until he was barely an arm’s reach away. Gaze drifting, you only took notice of the change when the knuckles came into view. Those bruised, bloodied knuckles, obviously treated by a person who knew nothing about caring for themselves. Silly man. A silly, silly man who wanted to put up a front; a front that might just have been yours, and your family’s ruin.
“Hey, are you-”
“No.” you retorted before he could accentuate what you deemed to be your weakness. Pushing yourself off the bench you were about to make a beeline for somewhere, anywhere, make up and excuse, but felt a gentle hand wrap around your wrist. Shocked, you stilled yourself and attempted to tug, only feeling the grip getting stronger until Seonghwa pulled you towards him, so that you would be face to face.
“I-... I’m sorry. I know how much this hurts and-”
“Do you?” cold, you hissed.
“...I can see it. I am sorry for your loss. And I am sorry for making you relive it.”
A smile, ones that graced those who had little to lose and little to wish for except perhaps a restart as another person, in another body, in another time and life, melted over you as you tested the strength of Seonghwa’s hold another time. Not budging. You did not dare to check his expression, for you knew that it would make you crack.
“Do you need any-”
“One more word and I will snap your arms in half.” recalling your first meeting, you muttered the empty threat.
“You are too kind.” he echoed, deliberating whether to give himself up to the urge and pull you closer.
So it was you who he had heard about after all. The demon on the roads, Icarus who had gotten too close to the sun of power, and was violently shoved from the pedestal of grace and familial leadership into the torment, into the abyss, stripped of all you knew and had. He had learned about you through fable-like gossip that his childhood friend, who caught up with the wrong crowd and became a member of the Black Pirates had shared over a couple of drinks when Seonghwa had visited. Same night he had shared that he wanted to leave, but as it had turned out, he was someone not quite lucky to make an escape and someone who Seonghwa was meant to forget. But besides the passing of another, someone who he could not save even though he tried, never did he think that the beast on the Kawasaki would be you. The you that he had come to know. The sensitive, albeit snarky and strong-headed you. The you who was a gifted mechanic, a woman who breathed the craft, the art, the science, the life that was that of a biker. Never before did he see anyone treat the Busa with such respect, nor make such accurate guesses about the fights and chases that it had participated in. Looking back, it should have been obvious that you had a history. You knew more than you ever let on. Perhaps you knew Seonghwa like he knew the streets of Night City, and now, your true past.
“The… yeah the Hayabusa’s done. By the way.” you tried to veer the conversation away, and fortunately this time, Seonghwa agreed.
“Thank you.”
“Standard rate.”
“Yep.”
“Everything is sort-”
“May I-”
You shot him an aggressive, piercing gaze, threatened by the change in tone. Far from his usual upbeat lilt, it was deeper, slower, sticky and sweet like molasses and you did not want to get pulled in. You clambered for air, for any relief away from his man, the man who had so openly shared his soul with you. He stammered and cleared his throat, finally letting go of your wrist. The sharp change in temperature was nearly unwelcome as the ghost of his soft fingers remained, caressing your flesh.
“Would you want to join a patrol now?” the inquiry, hanging in the air, dangling like a treat as the adrenaline rushed across your body. You had to feel guilty, surely, after having mourned the loss of your beloved Kawasaki and just revisited its final minutes, you had no right to be looking forward to another rush. You did not need it. You should not need it nor want it. And yet, you found yourself nodding almost immediately, much to Seonghwa’s delight. A reassuring warm hand on your upper arm, a lean forward letting Seonghwa catch your glossy eyes, him asking when you can close up shop and you mumbling that you were done for the day, or night. It was alway nighttime. The soothing blanket of navy blue, sleepy over the streets that you were about to explore under Seonghwa’s guidance.
As the dark haired man settle on the bike and appeared to adjust his wristwatch, holding his helmet while you found a spare displayed on one of the shelves - showed marks of wear and tear but good enough for a couple rides more, he felt his heartbeat turn erratic, and what was normally a bearable thrum turn into an erratic, unbelievable pace that only amplified in his skull and quickened once your arms were wrapped around his torso, holding onto him, your body pressed against his. If there was ever a hazard on the road for him, it was this. Your intoxicating closeness that made him want to ride forever more, never stopping if that meant that you could stay exactly where you were. How you were. It was surreal that the rider, the legend that he had grown to respect from the tales, was the woman that he had now grown to love.
As he sped down the streets, the neon had shone down on you in different colours, a bolder, more optimistic palette that made you beam right back. You clutched onto Seonghwa’s leather jacket, seeking more support as the exhilaration began to overwhelm you. It had been far too long since the last time you felt the wind hit you in this way, you felt the engine rushing you on between the trees of the concrete jungle, the windows and doors, the stray passers-by zooming right past you as the bike accelerated. It was not the same, of course, nothing could ever be, but the feeling, that distant feeling and warm memory was enough to remind you that you indeed were alive and you had the future to look to. A future that Seonghwa wanted to help you find. Hugging him tighter, you let yourself be carried away from the shop you closed up, away from the pleasant routine you had aimed to settle into all the way towards a moment of freedom and that familiar rush.
When you arrived at the destination, which turned out to be an abandoned parking lot under an equally barren road, illuminated only by a single streetlight with two bulbs, you noticed that there were a few people already gathered, including some familiar faces who were chatting away while wheeling their rides out of what you would describe as some concealed warehouse into better starting positions. Feeling a wave of shyness, you did not move as Seonghwa stopped the bike and stretched his legs out to balance it. Only after you sense more movement, and approaching footsteps did your arms snake away on their own accord and tug at your helmet. The man seemed to sense this since, as soon as his own helmet was off, he turned to you to whisper a quick “you okay?”. You feebly nodded, and found the ground with your military-style boots.
Quickly enough, a man approached Seonghwa, and the two exchanged a handshake and a couple of words. You recognised him fast enough - while he had not come to the shop nearly enough to be considered a regular, and judging from how heavily modded his MV Agusta Rush was it was clear that he preferred to do most, if not all repairs himself, Yeosang was a memorable figure. His hair, approaching shoulder length, and the long black and red leather jacket with cutouts that flowed behind him as he hit top speed made him stand out to you, and his endearing disposition and innate warmth as he discussed all matters within your comfort made him something of a friend. He waved to you, excited that you had decided to join the patrol, agreeing with Seonghwa that it was an honour to see you on the urban tracks. You bit your lower lip, wondering just how far word about you had travelled after your supposed passing, and whether this word would travel right back down to the south again after your impulsive appearance right here, among the Blue Birds.
“So you riding with us? Right?” Yeosang finally addressed you, his voice jolting you out of your musings.
“I suppose so,” after giving Seonghwa one final look and receiving a reassuring smile, you responded.
“Great, then, follow me.” As Yeosang spun on his heel and led you towards the warehouse, you let yourself wonder out loud.
“Were you all waiting for me or something?”
“Well, yes and no. We’ve heard stories, then Mars has really taken to you and well, that comes with a lot of getting to know you, and then Yunho shared a couple things-”
“What in the-”
“Don’t be too surprised. We keep our tabs on everyone. Just in case.” he chuckled and elaborated on the miniature dossier that had accumulated - he was not going to rat out the fact that it was mainly his leader not realising that he was discussing you at longer time periods than was customary for a standard biker and mechanic relationship.
“Guess I’m a bit rusty in that department.” you pondered the networks, the informers that had existed back in your town, and how sometimes you even had to ‘do some less than appealing kinds of convincing’ to get updates, but shook the image away as you entered the dimly lit warehouse.
“Let’s hope you aren’t when it comes to riding.” You stood back, letting Yeosang turn on another lamp, something probably found in a trash pile but still functional enough to be a source of illumination, only to reveal a breath-taking beauty.
“Now, of course it isn’t the Kawasaki,” Yeosang paused, patting the seat of the black and red motorcycle that you could sense was studying you, checking if you were strong enough to handle it, “but it is still quite impressive. Aprilia RSV4-”
“1100 Factory. Grunty engine, sweet chassis. Good engineering.”
“You can say that again. Here, give it a try.”
You stepped towards the breathing machine. The beast in slumber, awaiting a boost, a nudge awake and it was ready to roar and leave all those in this lot behind. It was a captivating system of mechanisms, all working in unison to create what was going to be a revival for you. A revival on the road. As you sat down on the bike, feeling its energy ooze through you and appreciating its almost youthful vigour, your mind traversed its maze-like avenues back to the Kawasaki. This was far from your precious. Far from who you had been. Far from the soul that you had lost back then. Gorgeous, without a doubt, an astounding piece of work that the streets would be grateful for gracing them, but that was how you had to treat it. As much as a part of you desired a renaissance, that same thrill, it was obviously unachievable. Nothing was the same, nor could be, including you. The place where the tattoo of the Black Pirates still decorated your skin ached with dull throbs as you leaned forward and tested your movements, your fluidity with the motorcycle. This was going to do; this had to do for that one last thrill before you could say goodbye to the dream of re-experience - the final nail in the coffin of a phantom that had you delusionally hoping for that sense of belonging and sense of being undefeatable to return to you. The Aprilia was the Aprilia, and you were you. The need for speed, the desire to rule the roads and exist in discord and chaos had died with the Kawasaki Ninja H2R, and the you now was searching for peace. The peace that you could read in Seonghwa’s eyes. The peace that he was offering in the form of unconditional support, in the form of pieces of his own soul to ignite the one you were patiently cultivating in your hollow chest. To let the blaze warm you, nurture the affection you yearned for, and let you breathe again. You gripped the handles of the bike, and turned on the ignition, casting a permission-seeking side glance to Yeosang, who merely nodded. As it rolled out of position and you flipped the foot that anchored it in balance, and let yourself be regarded by Seonghwa and his fellow bikers, the revelation finally came, that this was the new life that you had hoped for. The life that you had wanted to experience, not a reworking, but a clean slate. A new home that you hoped to discover in Night City.
Once everyone was in position, and Yeosang gave you a helmet that was fitted with a communication system that let the Blue Birds converse while on patrol, you followed Seonghwa out, having been given a designated position and role in the formation. It felt like the old times, but in reverse. Instead of organising havoc, the group was organising peace. Instead of planning heists, the group was hoping to stop crime that happened under the noses of those who purposefully disregarded it, focusing on new age delinquency that manifested itself as banal expression and creativity. The city was different now, it had to be. Suddenly, you were astounded and amazed by it, by the intricacies of every corner, the affection with which the citizens of the sector had decorated their storefronts and windows, even though if a government-arranged bust was to be organised, and the forces, nicknamed the Guardians were to march down these streets, these homes would be the first to be annihilated. Risking their own lives these marvellous people decided to spread joy and share colour. There was hope in Night City, there was hope in this district where the desire to live and thrive could not be put out.
Blue, purple, magenta, pink, orange, yellow, red, green, purest white and inkiest black, every shade and every saturation was jumping out at you even through the visor. You felt at ease, one with your surroundings as Seonghwa’s soothing voice issued the final command before the group were to split, leaving you, Seonghwa and Yeosang alone and zooming down the central street, empty from the lack of business after a particularly nasty raid. You noted remnants of shattered glass and a charcoal black storefront, one of the downsides of living in an area where law was more questionable than local dealings. But even then, you felt more alive than before.
“How are you feeling, Red?” a nickname thought of on the spot for ease of callouts thanks to the accents on the Aprilia.
“Good, Mars.”
“Good?” Yeosang echoed, and you could swear you heard an amused giggle from his mic.
“Very good, Greece,” you would never not be amused with the choice of name for your friend, the word ‘sculpture’, to highlight his heavenly visuals, had apparently been deemed too long to work.
Seonghwa could hear the joy in your voice, stronger than he had ever experienced it before, even when you joked around with him or revealed to him a particularly high quality part that Jongho had produced by some unmentionable connections. Previously, there had been barriers that you had accumulated with each season of your new existence, hardened by your trials and tribulations as a person who technically was not supposed to exist. Less talk, more business. Less emotion, more control over your behaviour, your being in the effort of maintaining an image of strength, much like he had done when he had first met you.
When Seonghwa had first laid eyes on you, you seemed to be the closest thing there was to a human version of ice. You appeared to be dismissive and disinterested in him, in what he could bring, and that was vexing. He, as Mars of the Blue Bird gang, had gotten used to have the room freeze as he walked in, only to combust into hot flames an instant after, but definitely not come face to face with someone who was sombre, and with their lack of a reaction made Seonghwa feel as though, in reality, he was not that important. He had made a promise to himself after finding out about the Kawasaki rider of the Black Pirates, that if there was anyone he would listen to and learn from, it would be them. From the technique to the daredevil spirit, that was the kind of rider he had always wanted to be. At the same time, as days turned to weeks turned to months, and the image of you and the rider became one in his mind, Seonghwa came to understand that truly, the rider was an illusion. A fantasy that he had built in his mind that could not compare to the wise woman that had transformed his Hayabusa, and his own heart. He wanted to learn you, and learn anything else with you. And to hear the spark within you, to feel your passion for finding yourself begin to return to you was the final sign that he needed to fully comprehend what he had been searching for. For that smile to never leave your face, for him to bring you food just because, for you to be side by side in this race against harsh reality, fighting the odds and making it through to a land where there was true light, away from the land of neon farce.
As you sped down the neverending roads, checking each turn and alleyway for activity, an odd trepidation crept into your chest, and fluttered like a moth fighting for its spot on a bulb. The same feeling as when you had been out with your so-called crew, checking the outskirts of your hometown that fateful night. Your inner alarm rolled out of a restless sleep, and began to clang against your brain, once, twice more and more until it became unbearable and you cried out for the group to stop. The unexpected call startled the duo, and they barely had time to process the action as the three of you instinctively skid to a halt, leaving hot trailmarks on the road. A hum. An unsettling hum that came before a certain ruin spread across your surroundings, and you took off your helmet to tune into it in an attempt to decipher anything at all. Seonghwa and Yeosang followed suit, perplexed, contemplating you as you darted from one side to the other turning your head and getting a grasp of what could be the source of the thrum. A revving. A sickening revving in the far distance, picked up by you as you whispered to your team.
“You hear that?”
“Hear what?” Yeosang asked back, running a hand through his hair.
“The hum.”
“Hum?”
“Where are we right now?”
“Southernmost district, kind of outside of Night City, but still our area.” Seonghwa responded promptly, alerted by your concern.
“We need to leave.”
“But the patrol-” Yeosang tried to argue, but you cut him off.
“Now. We need to leave now.”
“Why?”
The engines became even louder, and if you were not going to move now, you would never move again.
“Surveillance Point South, Guardians Helmets on, MOVE!” you commanded, disregarding any hint of formality as you shoved the helmet back onto your head and twisted the bike to go back. The men followed suit, and in good time, as in one of your mirrors, you saw the first flash of white appear from around the corner.
“GO!”
Bless technology, bless the engineers who crafted these magnificent motorcycles; you were praying and praising every person who had ever contributed to the creation of these beauties, these roaring urban animals as you accelerated to top speed in seconds and swerved down a random street, one that you had no clue where it led to. Calming yourself to the level where you were able to ask a question, you hurriedly shouted into the mic:
“Mars!”
“Turn right at the end, Greece flanks on the left.”
“Gotcha chief.”
“Update on tail?” You continued as the initial wave of automatic movements subsided, and in came the need for fast, adaptive strategy. You were not about to make the same mistakes again. This could not happen. You had to trust yourself, trust Seonghwa and Yeosang. They should not suffer the same way you had done. Ever.
“Five Guardians. Gear - standard. They were not expecting us.” Yeosang communicated back, pressing himself into the motorcycle as the three of you sped down the street only to burst into another and swerve to the appointed direction.
“Well that’s a plus,” you huffed and accelerated more after completing the dangerously sharp turn. The Guardians were quick to repeat the motion, and were aggressively catching up to your trio.
“There’s a highway under construction, we can lose them there.” Seonghwa offered, clearly disturbed by the closeness of the forces, practically breathing down his neck.
“How far?”
“How fast can you go?”
“Lead.” a quick ‘yes’ in agreement, and Seonghwa issued an order:
“Greece, split on the fork and find Crow. If you get a tail then spiral the shit out of them.”
“Aye.”
“Good luck.” With one last wish, serving as a hopefully temporary farewell, Yeosang rolled away his own response blending into static as the connection grew weaker, only to fully break:
“Good lu-”
And just like that, it was you, Seonghwa, and four remaining Guardians, who evidently had decided that Yeosang was not their main target, leaving only one to tail him. You cursed under your breath, and clearly the mic was a lot more sensitive than you had initially expected, because as soon as the utterance left your mouth Seonghwa’s voice reverberated against your eardrums.
“Just a bit more, okay? Trust me we’ll get there-”
A gunshot stops the man mid-sentence, and you blindly followed him as he countersteered to make another sharp turn into a much more narrow street, forcing the group of four to slow down considerably and giving you an extra few valuable seconds.
“Are guns part of standard gear?” Shocked by the similarity between the gang you had been part of and your present followers, you managed to ask.
“Yes, unfortunately.”
“Well isn’t this a fun time.”
“Glad you are enjoying it. Turn in five then turn left.”
Before you knew it, you were entering the meandering manoeuvre from street to alley to a series of pedestrian passageways, fully expecting Seonghwa to still be by your side, but as you entered another road, zooming ahead, you took note that your partner was nowhere to be seen, along with another two Guardians. The ones behind you, thanks to the maze of stairs and tight spots down the path he had directed you through, the Guardians were trailing behind, the distance having grown to a more secure one, at least until you felt the bike, which you were not totally used to, hit a pothole on the road and start to wobble, forcing you to overreact - counterintuitive to any professional behaviour. Your yelps finally made Seonghwa return through the speakers asking as to what exactly happened. To the best of your ability you choked out the cause of your surprise, while loosening your grip and regaining at least some control by slowly rolling off the throttle.
“I leave you for one second and that happens?”
“Last time I was alone and being chased I-”
“Did not have me, to your left-” As you had balanced yourself out and returned to breaking any speed limit imaginable, you noted the familiar black and orange Hayabusa merge into the lane to your left, followed by one Guardian.
“Where is their friend?”
“Took an arrow to the knee,” out of the corner of your visor’s allowable view, you saw Seonghwa accelerate until he was a little in the front and he waved what could only be a particularly menacing pistol.
“That is one hell of a bow.” You pondered when and where he could have produced a gun from, and finally realised why most of the time he kept his jacket zipped up unless he was off vigilante duty.
As you approached the winding highways-to-be, you swore you were barely breathing. With only three Guardians remaining on your tail it should be easier, an escape should feel closer, but you could not settle into any form of focus, instead only speeding towards an oblivion. Another one, your final one. The fear that you had been living with, the repetition that you had wrongfully longed for, was it about to happen? You fell quiet as you saw the road curve higher and higher to another level, and followed its flow. Seonghwa let you flow forwards, turning back to return the gunfire that the white-clad spawns of the so-called law restarted, missing one by a few centimetres, but in this way forcing them to enter the same state from which you recovered. Luckily, they did not have as reflexive of a control over the vehicle, and toppled to veer and hit one of the borders, denting it and giving up the chase. Two to go.
Entranced by the openness of the location, you raised your head to find a night sky, clearer than the one you were used to back in Night City. It was similar to the countryside around your hometown, how the stars came around to glint and help you recollect your thoughts by emphasising that everything on this earth, compared to the infinite expanse of the universe, was small enough to brush off. It had always made you feel briefly light, relieved, free. How you wished you could fly-
“Ready to fly?”
“Literally?” you cried out, returning back to the matter at hand.
“I sure hope you remember how to recover from a high jump on a bike because that is our only chance.”
“What the-”
“Three.”
“Two.
“One.”
“May the suspension system be ever in our favour,” you muttered, embracing the oncoming drop as you avoided the cones that marked the end of the construction zone and led into a drop onto the highway below.
Your mind cleared, and you focused on the head level balance point in front of you, which just so happened to be the straight line of the horizon. Your body moved back to ease the weight on the front end, and as you saw the drop come into view, raised yourself up on the foot pegs and pushed with all your might, bending your legs into the motion as you felt the suspension respond to you and compress before rising again. Instantaneously, you blipped the throttle, giving the Aprilia that final burst, propelling you and lifting you right when the front wheel hit the jumping point you had marked out. Keeping your head up, you let yourself feel the arc that you made together with the bike, eagerly watched your surroundings blur as you continued your calculated fall, and giggled as you heard Seonghwa let out a loud proclamation of “awesome!” as you landed the jump and remained fully in control of the temperamental steed.
The Guardians had stopped themselves before the leap, clearly not having the borderline death-seeking move programmed into their ridiculous training schemes, nor into their own obedient, law-abiding cells. With the southernmost district, and as such, the Guardian patrol point long behind you, it was now a matter of finding a place to slow down and figure out a safe way home. You laughed airily as the adrenaline egged you on, making you feel like you could take on the entire world, your gang of traitors and snakes, and the masked tyrants that had been chasing you and all that you considered valuable in your new chapter. You survived. Finally, you survived.
When the empty highway hinted at an exit on the other side, in unspoken agreement the two of you hopped the inexistent border between lanes and swerved into the turn, re-entering the city from a different angle, fully avoiding the southern district. As neon began to occupy your vision once more, the lines of blue, purple, magenta starting to line the streets of your home, you let out a sigh of relief, coming down from the rush of a good chase. As soon as the two of you ensured that there was no hint of Guardians in your vicinity, Seonghwa signalled for you to slow down and stop in a secluded square that was located between the outstretched segments of an abandoned residential block, the doors taped shut with signs proclaiming ‘demolition’ plastered over fading graffiti.
Hopping off his bike and leaving the helmet and gloves on the seat, he rushed to help you out, the exhaustion from diving headfirst into something that had not been in your active arsenal for a while. Wobbly legs, dizziness and an urge to listen to gravity for once nearly had you stumbling off the bike and onto the cracked pavement, if not for the strong arms, stabilising you by positioning themselves at your waist, and bringing you flush against Seonghwa’s toned body. Through the haze of a numbing fatigue, you could finally make out the slightest tang of gun smoke, blending with an aroma of a sweet perfume, pronounced as he had burned up from the prolonged pressure and thrill. Smoke and vanilla. And you were alive to take it all in. You raised your arms, searching for him, trying to feel out an anchor in the renaissance, clamber out of the ashes that were still coating you in a weight of a past that you had now shed. Fingers flittering across the black tank top, left exposed as he had unzipped the jacket, travelled around his sides to find his lower back and hook themselves together. You let yourself be consumed by the feeling of safety, the feeling of having overcome yourself and finding someone, the one person who was ready to pick you up again. Your body shook as a sob that you were unknowingly holding back flew from your now light heart and into the omniscient night, but all you could feel was warmth. A reliable embrace that was going nowhere, a man who knew who you were, who you had been, and let you decide for yourself who you wanted to become-
“Mars-” you mumbled, pressing your face into Seonghwa in an attempt to let the fabric swallow your emotion.
“-Seonghwa.”
“Huh?” you wanted to look at him, at his dark eyes that held the sky, the universe within them, but the soothing circles that he was drawing on your back as he began to rock gently while keeping you in his arms made you remain in the same position, right against him. With him.
“Seonghwa. Hwa. Whatever nickname you think of but… just. Seonghwa, Y/N. Call me Seonghwa.” you chuckled through the tears that started to decorate your cheeks, earning a confused hum from the biker.
“I’ll think about it.”
“Cheeky.”
“At least we are not threatening each other with grievous bodily harm anymore.” you tried to squeeze him in a way to emphasise your joke, but earned a surprised pained yelp from the man, followed by a pursing of the lips as you darted to face him.
“Seonghwa?” it was obvious that the new address made him soften considerably, but your worry did not subside. “Are you hurt?”
“It’s nothing really, regular st-”
“Where, Seonghwa, where?” you used his own name against him, forgetting your own overwhelmed state and turning your attention to him.
He was entranced by the way your eyes glistened in the darkness, how the tears that stained your cheeks were only adding to your image. Nothing would make him look differently at you. Nothing ever. And if he had to race against time itself to be able to hold onto you like this, he would do it. He would fight all of the Guardians and Black Pirates combined if it meant that you could smile. You needed to smile. He tried to ease the concern, but the wound that he had acquired during the chase was becoming nearly unbearable. Instead of fighting you, he tilted his head to his left and lifted his arm while keeping the other on your waist. Getting the hint, you flipped the bottom of the cropped jacket and gasped as you saw torn material, reddened, irritated skin, and a mixture of coagulated and still-trickling blood concentrated around where what could only be a bullet grazed Seonghwa’s stunning, tanned skin.
“What the- and you are just here? Standing? You need treatment, stat!” admonishing his self-disregard, you leaned to inspect the wound more closely, only to have Seonghwa attempt to flip the jacket back and dig his fingers into your side.
“I am fine, I swear-”
“Do you know anyone who can fix this?” not quite in the know of any medical terms, you resorted to treating the wound as though it was a damaged component, except a lot more distressing, and obviously causing a lot more lateral harm than any scratch or even piercing tear could to cold metal.
“...Not really, no,” after a long pause, he responded. Lowering his arm, Seonghwa returned to his previous hold, except this time, moving until his face was only centimetres away from yours.
“Well then, you know me, I have a first aid kit at my cave.” your voice quivered as you at the man before you. You could tell, he was new too, also reborn from the chaos. Neither of you could predict, but it was obvious that now, that light that you had been chasing was within reach.
“So you can fix bikes and people?”
“Bikes, yes. People? Not really. But I would like for you to see another day please.
“It really isn’t that bad.”
“Then why are you in pain?”
“Because I have been staring at your lips for the past minute and still have not kissed you.”
You blinked once, twice as whatever words were in your throat remained there and fell right back down to be set on fire by what you could only describe as the blowing of multiple fuses. You were not quite sure when the two of you managed to lean so impossibly close to one another, but your arms were fully relaxed, having succumbed to the sensation of his hands dancing across your hips testing the waters, and your vision was occupied by Seonghwa, and Seonghwa alone. His gaze, once again, trailed down from your eyes down to your lips, slow, confident alluring. Ignoring whatever pain he was experiencing, dulling it with a different, more tantalising ache. With your breathing growing more shallow by the second, you were not sure what to expect of Seonghwa in this instant; perhaps more accurately, you were terrified of how this would change your new life. He was taking his time as though he was reading a book, trying to decipher what you were feeling, and while he was more than ready to lean in an destroy what was left of the gap between you, your swift hands that wiped what remained of the moisture on your cheeks and a playful smirk on your lips forced him into a childish pout.
“And you won’t, unless you let me patch you up.”
“And I can kiss you after?”
“...Deal.” to hell with it all, you continued soundlessly.
As rapidly as the moment had developed, it ceased to persist, with Seonghwa detangling himself from you and telling you to grab your helmet while pressing a couple of buttons that were concealed on his wristwatch.
“What about the bike?”
“Yeo will sort out the bike. I just pinged him with the coordinates.”
“You have a spy watch?” amazed, you exclaimed.
“Nifty, huh? Blue Bird exclusive.”
“I need to speak to the engineers in your circle, I need to absorb some skills from them.”
“I can see you’ll be speaking to Yeo more and more soon, then. He is quite the techy guy.”
As you were about to hop onto the bike, you thought once more about the injury, and tapped the already seated Seonghwa on the shoulder. Flipping open his visor, the man moved his chin forward, prompting you to go on.
“Scooch back.”
“But I can-”
“No buts. You are injured, and this is a hazard,” receiving a groan in response, you refused to pause, “besides, I can’t exactly hold on to you now, can I?”
That seemed to do the trick as the previously proud, arrogant man obeyed your command and slid away from the handlebar, but as soon as you were in position, revealed that potentially, it was not you winning here as he relished in the opportunity to embrace you for the entire trip back to OC, occasionally distracting you by letting his hands roam your torso, leaving you dangerously close to pulling over. But you had enough experience of being stoic, and Seonghwa still had much to learn about you, so you kept a steady speed, and greeted the luminescence of your neighbourhood with a relaxed rumble of the Hayabusa.
-
As you turned on the lights to your studio apartment and the two of you took off your shoes, you sped away to find the green case of health and all things that you were technically not supposed to have in your possession but did anyways. Funnily enough, Seonghwa’s comment had not been too far from the truth; back when you had been in the Black Pirates, a mechanic was fully expected to patch the customers up, as well as the bike, considering that both were normally against the law and had to remain undercover. Even when in certain districts the gang did bribe their way up to have a hand in decision-making, thus making it possible for the members to receive regular treatment, many had gotten used to the quick and easy drive-by healings, and would always choose to trust the person who gave life to their motorcycles over even the most qualified, certified doctor. Such was the rhythm that you had fallen into, the one that transitioned into the you in Night City through a library of skills and odd habits - like keeping the first aid kit right below the sink, the logic being that one could grab the kit, wash their hands and be ready for war, equipped with antiseptic and a plethora of improvisation techniques made up on the spot.
With Seonghwa settled on one of the foldable chairs that you kept to the side for when you wanted to sit while eating instead of leaning over the kitchen counter, you took the other, placed it right in front of the tired man and got to work. Carefully guiding his arms out of the leather jacket, you were left with a far too attractive biker, clad in only a black tank top and the ridiculously expensive chains, and the leather trousers that tightened around his legs as he wriggled a little and took a more comfortable position to sit. The earring with the feather right at the end still dangled in his ear, and his hair, ruffled but retaining some shape thanks to what you thought to be humble use of a styling gel. You needed to avoid his eyes at all costs, the burning eyes that were trained on you, and only you. It did not take an expert to guess what Seonghwa was replaying in his mind the entire time that you were around him. As you lifted the tank top and inspected what was now a dried up mass over a graze, you sighed with relief.
“Good news.”
“Good?” Seonghwa asked back, suspiciously out of breath.
“Yeah. Now, I can’t check for internal bleeding, but outwardly, this is easy enough. Seems that you got really lucky. Very. Over the top kind of lucky actually. Can’t say the same for the jacket though, but at least you are not a wine barrel.”
“Charming.”
“I’ll just clean the thing and put a big bandage on it so that it won’t get infected. I fear that most of the pain is from these old injuries though…” you absent-mindedly traced some of the hematomas, which, judging by their colouration, were well on their way to dissolving into a smoothness, with your fingertips, making the man tense up. He turned his head towards you, glancing back and forth as you inspected the collage of injuries that he had collected on his body.
“We’re fighters though, aren’t we.”
“Fighters need holidays too.”
“Right.”
“You need to park yourself in a garage and give your engine a nice break…” you joked, more to yourself as you turned to bring the green case to your lap for easier searching, keeping one hand in place to hold the cotton top up, until the finger grew tired, “hey could you be a darling and hold your own shirt for me? Cheers.”
Seonghwa jumped into action, enjoying the soft speech, and replaced your hand with his, the digits ever so slightly brushing against one another as he moved to hold onto the material.
“You are in luck.”
“Is that so? Even more than over the top?” ignoring his interjection, you continued:
“Uh-huh. I have hydrocolloid bandages left. This one’s actually barely noticeable, but works like a charm with weeping wounds so, get your flesh over here and you’ll be patched up in no time.” turning, he repositioned himself to allow you to clean the cut, removing some of the attached fabric that had dried with the first droplets, and leaving the redness exposed to the disinfectants, and to the patch. In no time at all, your work was done. Satisfied, you grabbed a tissue out of the packet that was sitting in the kit and cleaned the ointment and adhesive that stuck to you.
“I’m afraid I can’t help with the clothes though. Not my area of expertise.”
“You did more than enough, Y/N. And all this after racing through and out of Night City from five Guardians on a totally new bike.”
“I am a woman of many talents.”
“That’s true…” that honey-sweet, deep voice, slowing into a sultry beckoning as Seonghwa’s hand moved to rest on your knee. A man on a mission after all. You chuckled and snapped the first aid kit shut, easily sauntering from his approaches and enjoying every minute.
“You want hot chocolate?” you asked over your shoulder as you stashed the case back under the sink and shut the cupboard. Nothing was stopping you from being a good host to a very good person. Even though it was rather apparent that Seonghwa was eyeing something else on the menu, the sound of a sweet treat was rather appealing. You were right about him faking drinking coffee after all.
“Yes please.”
As you moved about the kitchen, fetching the cylindrical jar of chocolate powder and getting the coffee machine started for your own beverage of choice, Seonghwa moved to reposition the chairs closer to a table that bore the appearance of an ironing board squashed against the wall until he pulled it down and pushed the two legs at the free end out. Patiently, he admired your studio apartment, your corner of the city that was situated right above the shop. The walls were bare, only decorated with old holes from nails and with the odd scratch here and there. Minimal furniture, with the large dresser probably being donated to you by Yunho. The neatly made bed which judging by the headboard and armrests was also a small sofa, located right beside the window that was covered by wooden blinds roughly painted an off-white, was probably the newest addition to the metres of this room. Undoubtedly, the piece of furniture was acquired after you had moved here, after you had made your bosses certain that you were here to stay. And Seonghwa was going to make sure of it. Night City was now to be your new home, and when you tapped the table to alert him of the hot beverage that you had prepared, now ready and billowing steam out of the mug right in front of him, he revered how beautiful you looked, surrounded by the mechanic shop, by the streets of the district, by the city that he had despised for so long but the one that had helped him find you through mysterious serendipity.
"Thank you." he took a cautious sip, sighing in elation.
"No problem. I'll pretend that chocolate helps with internal bruising and call myself a doctor." You commented while settling beside the vigilante, making him smile.
“How’d you guess I would not want coffee?” you glanced over at your companion while taking a tentative sip once the initial temperature shock had subsided.
“You never order it.”
“But I never-”
“I think we have spent enough time together to know the basics, right?” A bolder swig, and you could feel the caffeine begin to hit your system like a nitro boost.
“Well I seem to be discovering more and more things about you every second, Y/N.”
“And how are you finding it?” you took the quietness as a chance to test him. It was barely a test, but nevertheless, too important to dismiss. The small questions, ones said in passing and ones to be forgotten were almost always the ones that were to be the most important.
“I want to learn more and more, since I simply cannot get enough.”
Momentarily bashful, you looked at the floor and thought of the garage beneath your feet. The place where you had initially determined that this same man who was now unbelievably bold in his expression of his feelings for you was to be your sworn enemy. How times changed, for the better. Regardless of the twists and turns, the ups and downs, even in the deepest night there was a light to find, and a light that was meant to be yours. This new life was your light, and Seonghwa wanted to be part of it. You grinned at the thought, and finally met Seonghwa’s smouldering gaze, fuelled by care, by determination, by the vision of a future.
“You know, I think I thought of a nickname for you, Seonghwa.”
“Oh?” he set down his mug, mirroring you.
“Yeah. I think I’ll call you mine.” you stood up, knowingly ambling to the light switch, listening to the biker following suit.
“Watch out, I might just marry you on the spot if you keep that up.”
“Well, I am not your bride but you may kiss me.”
“Y/N, you are too addictive, and will make me lose my mind.”
“Well then, are you mine?”
“In every lifetime I am yours.”
Enveloped in a new night, illuminated only by the colours that seeped through the half open blinds you ceased to think and rationalise, giving yourself up to instinct as you felt his arms wrap around your waist, twisting you from the wall, coaxing you closer to him, towards his warmth, his heart right there for you to take. It was easy to oblige and you pinched the material of his tank top, prompting him to step even closer, sure that he was practically beaming into the kiss as he nudged himself forward, lifting your head up just a little to prolong the contact. It was as though he was certain that if you were to break apart from one another, you would disappear. He wanted more, needed more. Digits tracing abstract shapes on your back, running through your hair, Seonghwa wanted to remember every detail. Just as he had said, he wanted to learn every part of you.
Lost in paradise, the kiss was electric. A hand that found itself toying with his chains, and proceeding to snake up the back of his neck to tug on his hair just enough to make him shakily exhale made Seonghwa switch his gears. A previous tentativeness, a tender exploration turned into an urgency as his tongue flicked against your lower lip begging for entrance, which you were more than eager to give. You sighed into the passionate call for more that left you breathless. And yet, in these seconds turned into an unprecedented timelessness, if you had to give up every life-saving molecule for even a fraction of nearly impossible unity, you would do it in a heartbeat. The sensation was as though you had finally woken up from a deep slumber, dragged from the somnolent abyss, and every vibration in the air was resonating with you, resonating with Seonghwa.
You felt drunk, dizzy as you guided Seonghwa to the bed, having very quickly memorised the layout of your tiny apartment to the point where you could move around even if there was not a single source of light. In a passionate blur your top was left by the chairs, while your trousers found their place right in front of the bed, together with Seonghwa’s tank top. With every flame that crossed between you, you laid yourself bare to one another, honest and open, and the vulnerability, intimacy you let yourself indulge in marked another beginning. As your nude bodies laid down onto the dark grey sheets, the both of you fervent for more but aware of the importance of honouring every step, Seonghwa suggested, feeling his side remind him of his injury:
“I think you’re going to have to take the lead here, Y/N, I’m a little bruised up.”
“Of course,” you leaned in for another kiss, smiling at the sweetness, “You ready?”
“More than.”
Seonghwa leaned against the pillows and headboard, devoured by lust as you moved further and further down until you reached his exposed member, leaking precum, hard, pleading for you to give it at least some attention. Testing the waters, you languidly rubbed the tip with your thumb in circles coating it in the translucent liquid and making Seonghwa breathe as though there was not enough oxygen. One glance back and you were in awe of the beauty before you. Eyes shut, reddened lips slightly parted, head tilted back as if he was caught in a divine act. The light from the street outside made him look all the more ethereal, and his skin, now an indescribably stunning collage of hues that had crept through the blinds, was a masterpiece that you wanted to honour with your love. As your teasing progressed into a gentle pumping, first of the tip and then with your hand sliding down the entire length, only to stop and give extra care to the base of the member, a low groan reached you - a melody that only encouraged you. Heat pooled to your core as you continued to elicit a string of indecipherable mumbles, a deep moan, and the most magnificent expressions from the man who had never thought you would even cross paths with again. How foolish you had been, masking Seonghwa’s stunning presence, response to your every action, and his eagerness to please you by whispering praises for how good you were making him feel, how amazing you looked and were, and how he was so grateful. Your prior ignorance was almost impossible to even consider now, as you let spit drip down from your mouth onto his dick, adding more lubrication and letting you increase the speed. The wanton sounds of your hand pumping Seonghwa’s throbbing cock, blended with the breaths turning shallow, any moan coming out airy, barely there, were filling you with your own desire, and your free hand quickly moved between your legs, fingers gliding along the folds, finding them to be slick, soaking, needy. You began to run your digits over your now wet clit, rolling over the nub painfully slow in a weak attempt to prevent yourself from cumming too soon, but what used to be a hint of a high only accelerated to a knot at the bottom of your stomach, pulsating and begging for fullness. With how Seonghwa’s hips began to buck up, oblivious to the bruises, the wounds that ghosted and adorned his body, you needed him.
“Hwa…”
“Mmh- yes?”
“May I… ride you?” Through phrases broken up by your choice to quicken the pace of your hand, abusing your clit until a trembling sensation spread over your legs in anticipation of an orgasm, you voiced your desire.
“Please- Y/N I- yes-” equally as shattered, Seonghwa was barely able to respond, moaning as you gave him a chance to recover ever so slightly, letting his member spring free, but more desperate than before for stimulation.
“Do you have condoms?”
“Back pocket, trousers, wallet.” he sighed, pointing at the discarded article at the foot of the bed.
“How’d you even get it in this Sector?” you asked, fishing the item out of his wallet, tearing the packaging and crawling back to unroll it.
“Con… tra… band,” he enunciated through your swift actions, biting his lower lip as he felt your heat press against him, your hand guiding the cock between your folds as you rocked back and forth.
“Vigilantes indeed. Protecting in all kinds of ways.”
“Are you kidding me?” Seonghwa groaned at the sorry attempt of a joke, his mind conflicted between the humour and the unbearable closeness of your pussy, lined up against his tip.
“I’m not the one smuggling condoms, though I have nothing to say but thank you, darling.”
Lowering yourself onto the member, bit by bit until he bottomed out inside you, you leaned forward, consumed by the euphoric feeling. Seonghwa took this as a chance to caress the side of your face, draw a line against your jaw and lead you towards him with soft fingers under your chin. Placing one kiss, another on your lips, and peppering your cheeks and nose with loving pecks, he encouraged you. He wanted to ensure that you felt loved, and only loved. When you began to move, hands finding the headboard for better balance and as a security measure so that you would not hurt Seonghwa, his gaze stayed on your face, bearing witness to the single most gorgeous view of his mortality.
He gave himself up to you, something that he would have never imagined, but something that felt so right that he was terrified of thinking how his life would be had he never met you. Seonghwa let you control the pace, and when your walls tightened around his dick with your climax fast-approaching, did nothing to stop you, deny you of the ecstasy, much to his own fortune, for the cries of his name as you reached your high and rode it out, leading him to his own heavenly demise were now permanently etched into his brain. Never before did anything of his sound so captivating. Never before did he think that he could see a light in this dark city, in his dark path. But there she was, an angel in his arms, falling forwards, a barely noticeable shake still over taking her as she nuzzled into the crook of his neck, your lustful fever accentuated by the coolness of the metal necklaces. Seonghwa kissed your cheek once again, then your forehead and the crown of your head, thanking you, adoring you, and as the minutes ticked past, finding his footing in the post-coital bliss, and nudging for you to clean up with him, so the oasis you had created in your four walls could last longer, and you could drift into the sunniest dreams in each other’s embrace.
As you laid in Seonghwa’s arms, flushed from the shower and changed into an oversized t-shirt, his leg lazily thrown over yours and breath tickling your exposed skin, you felt even more alive. As he pulled you closer to him, and with the hand that was fully on the other side of you reached out to rest his palm on the back of yours, and let your fingers intertwine, you let yourself fall into a serenity that you had never known, and listened to his heartbeat through the tee you had given him, a rhythm that you never wanted to forget, a soul that helped yours truly come back from a place of no return. Seonghwa traced the tattoos on your skin, whispering about their marvel, their story, pointing out his favourites, the details that put every piece together into one flowing design. He repeated, again and again, his adoration for you, kissing your earlobe only to say it once more, accompanied by his favourite sound: the syllables that made up your name. In rare moments like this, everything felt easy, within reach. In this time and space that existed after a revival, a self-discovery and a promise of a new beginning, you were ready to take the scenic route.
“Hwa, could you pass me the C-spanner?”
“Ah, the mechanic’s scythe, sure thing.” you rolled your eyes and grinned, accepting the tool from Seonghwa’s outstretched hand. You were working on a swanky new Yamaha that had been added to the general Blue Bird collection after a certain Aprilia had been turned into scraps in the name of security. Not that you knew anything though - after all that was not you, and you did not exist at all in the databases of the Guardians, having flown under the radar thanks to some quick camera wipes, and security checks around Night City. Your new beginning was greeting you with open arms.
As you adjusted the pre-load on the rear shock absorbers, Seonghwa noticed something that reminded him of cling film peeking out from under your sleeve and letting his curiosity get the better of him, inched towards you, around the bike and giving you barely a second to register his intentions, poked at the plastic.
“What’s that, love?”
“A little upgrade.” you smiled to yourself and continued to make adjustments to the energetic beast.
“A tattoo?” he inquired, taking the c-spanner from your hand and laying it down on the ground. You spun on your old stool to face him.
“Mhm…”
“Show me?”
“I don’t know… probably won’t be clear enough through the film and I don’t want to ruin it so…”
“C’mon Y/N, weren’t you gushing about it to me just yesterday? How Seonghwa would adore it and-”
“Don’t sell me out, bossman.” you retorted, faking a glare at Yunho who was in the depths of a discussion about component orders with Jongho and evidently, was getting more and more bored.
“And focus on the papers, Yunho.” the latter rapid-fired after you, making Yunho groan and shift his attention away.
“So?” Seonghwa nudged your foot with his, shoving his hands in his pockets. Clearly, whatever tailor he knew in this city was a magic person, because even months after the turning point in your identity, a switch in time that let you open your eyes to a beautiful new world, the beloved biker pseudo-uniform in black and orange hues was pristine, seamless, bearing no signs of any gunshots, nor of any tears nor grazes.
You stood up, and cautiously rolled up your sleeve to reveal a transparent bandage that covered your fresh ink. Another restart, another call for a new step in the form of a single blue feather, with a stunning gradient and black detailing. As Seonghwa peered at the design, open-mouthed and silent before nearly squeezing the air out of you as he hugged you as tightly as he possibly could and spun you around, you blinked away the last of your doubts that had been stuck to you from before the fateful arrival to Night City. In the most unexpected places, surrounded by the most unexpected people, time was finally on your side, and let you slowly but surely take steps towards the you that you were happy being. The you that was loved and could love. The you that turned a fresh new leaf, and was more alive than ever.
#kflixnet#k-labels#ateezlovenet#seonghwa x reader#park seonghwa x reader#seonghwa#park seonghwa#seonghwa fluff#seonghwa smut#seonghwa angst#biker seonghwa#biker hwa#yeosang#kang yeosang#yunho#jeong yunho#jongho#choi jongho#ateez outlaw#ateez#ateez fanfic#ateez au#ateez smut#ateez fluff#ateez angst
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seeking trouble || p.sh (m)
"Seonghwa entertains your need for a late-night rendezvous despite his better judgment."
🏍 Pairing: biker!Seonghwa x richGirl!Reader (afab)
🏍 Rating/Genres/AUs: M(18+); Smut, angst; light fluff; Bad boy/rich girl au, friends to lovers
🏍 Warnings: Reader referred to as "girl", pet names (pretty girl, princess, whore, baby), #teamseonghwa.... you'll see why 😪 | [smut] dirty talk, unprotected sex on his bike, one spank lol, 5 seconds of summer choking, creampie, orgasm denial, fingering, oral (f. rec.), degradation, seonghwa's gets a lil mean 🥹...lmk if i missed anything! ^-^
🏍 Word Count: 3.5k
🏍 Author's Note: I am shamelessly contributing to the biker!hwa agenda 🫡 And ofc for research purposes, I stared at the gif for a long while. Curse you Park Seonghwa *shakes fists in the air*
part two
ateez masterlist | main masterlist
The flickering street lamp casts an eerie glow on the man in the distance.
He sits half on his motorbike as he slips on a black glove. He pays no attention to the sounds your feet are making on the rough cement. He only looks up when you’re a foot away.
“Hey, pretty girl,” he smiles, leaning back slightly. The chains resting around his neck greet you with tinkling winks under the light.
“Hi, handsome,” you reply cheerfully.
Seonghwa drinks in your appearance. Your bright clothes are the polar opposite of his and the scenery around you. However, he expects nothing less from you.
His eyes lower until they spot your platform heels with fuzzy decor across the toe straps.
Seonghwa lets out a silent huff of air in amusement, one corner of his mouth lifting in a lopsided grin. He blinks once then his eyes are suddenly on you.
The action has you shifting your weight.
“Interesting choice,” he comments. They’re a little odd, but they’re growing on him as the seconds tick by.
“Cute, huh?” you ask, angling your foot to show off your shoe.
“Perhaps,” he murmurs, then picks up a spare jacket from the back of his motorbike. “But I’m not sure they’re appropriate for tonight.”
Seonghwa tosses you the jacket, and you catch it with ease. It’s similar to his, but the reddish-orange accent color swirls in a different pattern.
You put on the item as you reply, “I didn’t have enough time to change.”
“Your date lasted that long?”
“It wasn’t a date,” you sigh at having to repeat yourself from previous conversations.
“You got all dolled up for dinner with a man. Sounds like a date to me,” he explains.
You shake your head, walking toward his bike and gesturing for him to get on. He obeys languidly.
“I’m about to go for a late-night drive with a man. Is this a date then?” you ask and swing a leg over the seat.
Seonghwa hands you a helmet before putting his own on.
“You didn’t get dressed up for me,” he states while you slip on the helmet.
You don’t have time to reply because Seonghwa has revved up his bike. Seconds later, he is driving out of the abandoned parking lot.
You wrap your arms around his waist, the familiar feeling bringing comfort. You can smell his strong cologne and resist the urge to take a deep whiff.
Riding on Seonghwa’s motorbike has your heart soaring with happiness.
Your eyes close as you embrace the wind rushing past your body. The graceful way he swerves through traffic makes you feel like you’re dancing.
You’re tempted to outstretch your arms, but you recall Seonghwa’s nagging voice from the one time you did it in the past. You don’t know why he cared so much, but you figured he just didn’t want to be reliable for murdering the mayor’s daughter.
That definitely wouldn’t end well for him.
Thirty minutes pass until you reach your destination.
Seonghwa’s first to climb off his bike. He sets his helmet down before reaching out for your hands. He helps you off of the bike carefully, watching as you stumble and feeling you squeeze his hands.
Normally after rides, your legs feel a little like jelly. It’s become a habit for Seonghwa to hold you for support afterward.
“’m good now,” you giggle after a moment.
Seonghwa drops your hands and then takes a few steps to overlook the town. You quickly set your helmet by his before turning to watch him.
The area is just outside your town on top of a hill. You and Seonghwa had stumbled across the spot by accident a month ago, and it’s become your regular hang-out ever since.
The freedom you feel from being away from town makes you feel weightless. You’re not the mayor’s daughter here. You’re not required to go on “dates” to uphold your family’s reputation. You’re not told who you can and can’t see.
It’s liberating.
And addicting.
You step next to Seonghwa silently. The town’s lights look more beautiful from a distance. If you didn’t know better, you’d want to go back. But you know what awaits you at home.
“You ever have to sit in a car with a guy who smells like rotten fish?” you ask out of the blue.
Seonghwa’s not affected by your sudden outburst. He simply slides off his jacket before laying it on the ground. You expect him to sit on it, but he sits next to it.
You open your mouth to question him; however, when he gestures to the item, you understand.
You slowly lower yourself onto his jacket.
Seonghwa leans back on his hands, legs straight in front of him. He’s wearing a simple black tank top in the chilly night, but he’s not shivering.
“No, because he would’ve been kicked out,” he belatedly answers.
You smile and avert your gaze from him to the town.
“If only I could’ve done that,” you sigh.
“So, who was he this time?”
You groan at the memory. “One of the council’s sons. He’s, like, seven years younger, but of course, Daddy wants me to befriend all his friend's children.”
“Aren’t you a good little girl,” Seonghwa teases in a sing-song manner, coming close to your ear.
You scoff and shove at him. “I don’t want to be.”
“Hm,” he pauses in thought.
Seonghwa brings a hand to your chin, angling your face so you’re looking at him. You’re thankful for the moon that allows you to see his handsome features.
His voice drops an octave when he says, “You want to be a bad girl?”
Your heart races at his words. He somehow always has a way to get your blood pumping and mind whirling.
“Aren’t I always when I’m with you?” you reply with a subtle smirk.
Seonghwa chuckles lowly.
“Sneaking out, hanging around someone like me, engaging in inappropriate behavior,” he trails off, slowly leaning in until he’s guiding you back on the ground.
“Definitely a bad girl,” he concludes.
His lips are centimeters away from yours. He’s staring at you with an intensity only Seonghwa can create. It causes your insides to do somersaults; your heart beating irregularly.
You don’t like the feeling.
Needing some form of control, you push against his chest. He pulls away, but instead of leaving him be, you sit up with him and climb into his lap.
Seonghwa’s hands rest on your hips.
“Only for you,” you smile sweetly.
He raises an eyebrow. “I don’t think that’s true, princess.”
“Why is that?” you wonder, trailing your hands up his arms until they’re around his neck, inching yourself closer.
“You’ll crawl to anyone who gets you away from that town,” he replies. His hands rise to apply pressure against your lower back, pressing your chest against his. “I bet if you met Jongho before me, he’d be here with you instead.”
There’s truth to his answer.
Seonghwa’s your key to freedom. Without him, you’d be stuck in your overly big mansion—alone and unhappy.
But even though you saw him as a way to spread your wings at first, you started to want to spend nights with him for different reasons. Reasons you’ve been pushing down for a few weeks now. Reasons you’ll never admit to.
Reasons you want to forget.
“Then aren’t you lucky you paid for my meal when I forgot my money?” you say, leaning down to peck his pretty lips.
“Maybe you’re the lucky one since you followed me out like a lost puppy,” he grins. He glides his hands up and down your body lazily.
“I just wanted to thank you,” you argue.
“Wanna know what I think?”
“Trick question.”
“I think you thought I looked like trouble,” he answers anyway.
“Well, aren’t you?”
“If I wasn’t, you wouldn’t be here.”
“Enough talking, Hwa,” you sigh. “Let’s get into that trouble I’m looking for.”
“Don’t we always,” he murmurs before crashing his lips on yours.
You instantly swipe your tongue along his lower lip, encouraging him to deepen the kiss.
Seonghwa’s no stranger to your quick antics, so he moves his tongue to meet yours without hesitation. His hands trail to squeeze your breasts through your blouse, eliciting an approving hum from you.
Your back arches in his hands as you begin to roll your hips. Seonghwa’s deft fingers pinch your nipples through your shirt, and it’s not long until his mouth is peppering kisses along the swells of your breasts.
When you start sliding off the jacket you’re wearing, he stops you.
“Leave that on,” he instructs before lifting your top and pulling down one of your bra cups. His mouth connects with your nipple, giving it a few flicks of his tongue.
“It’d be easier if you let me take it off,” you say between moans.
Seonghwa pulls away from your chest; he stares at you while he thinks.
“Fine,” he agrees and helps you remove the item.
You’re quick to remove your blouse and bra completely. Goosebumps litter your body from the cold night, but you’re sure you won’t be chilly for long.
You’re about to remove Seonghwa’s top, but he grabs one of your hands to halt your movements. He retrieves the jacket and guides your arm through a sleeve. Your eyes narrow at him as you slip the clothing back over your body.
“Something about leather on me excites you?” you tease.
“It’s not the leather,” he murmurs.
You hope he’ll explain, but he simply kisses your breasts again.
He’s scattering kisses all over your skin, occasionally nipping it. While he picks up where he left off, you do the same.
Your hips begin to grind against his, basking in the feeling of your clit being brushed against his hardening cock. Your fingers find purchase in his hair as he switches to your other breast. When he grazes his teeth against your pebbled nipple, you tug on his hair and pull him away.
Your lips find his before he can speak a word. The kiss is brisk, mouths moving with feverish haste. You could kiss him all night if you could, but you want to spend your time doing something else.
Too eager to undress Seonghwa’s upper half, your hands unbuckle his belt. You break the kiss with heavy breaths and climb off his lap.
Both of you strip yourselves of your pants and underwear.
“You ever fuck someone on your bike?” you ask once you’re completely bare—except for Seonghwa’s jacket and your heels.
“No,” he answers simply.
“Can I be your first?” you smile and stand next to it.
“What makes you think I want you to contaminate my bike?”
You roll your eyes. “Haven’t you ever wanted to? Come on, Hwa. Don’t tell me you haven’t thought of it.”
“And how exactly are you going to balance on it?”
“Like this,” you instruct and slowly bend over it.
You keep your feet planted on the ground, hands gripping the side of the seat. You spread your legs slightly and wiggle your hips at him.
Seonghwa’s eyes are cast down between your legs. He can see how wet and ready you are.
Fuck.
He admits he has thought of it before…
“Stop thinking and just fuck me,” you sigh when he doesn’t move.
“I ought to gag you,” he growls as he comes up behind you. He removes his gloves and tosses them with the rest of the clothes on the ground.
“As if,” you smirk. “You love when I moan your name.”
Seonghwa doesn’t reply and instead lowers his mouth to your cunt.
You gasp when his tongue licks up your folds. He repeats himself a few times before diving his tongue in your core.
One of his hands wraps around your thigh to keep you balanced while the other toys with your clit.
Your body jerks at his touches. You rest the side of your face against the cushion seat, his name spilling from your parted lips.
“You’re right,” Seonghwa mumbles against your slickened folds. “I love hearing my name coming from your mouth.”
As if wishing to hear it again, he slides two fingers inside you.
“Fuck, Hwa,” you whimper at the way his digits stretch you out. Your hands clutch onto the seat as he pumps his fingers quickly.
You’re withering against his motorbike as he plays with your cunt. Your climax is building, but you don’t want to come around his fingers.
“Need your cock, Hwa,” you cry.
Seonghwa slows his movements.
“Need?” he chuckles. “My fingers aren’t enough for you, princess?”
You shake your head, trying to focus on his words rather than the slow glide of his fingers still inside you.
“Need my cock to stretch you out more?”
“Wanna be full of you. Please,” you whine.
Seonghwa scoffs and pulls his fingers away. He stands and presses himself against you. The feel of his heavy cock against your ass has you squeezing your legs.
He leans down so his face is closer to yours. The silver chains around his neck dangle downward, causing you to shiver at the feel of the cool metal. You angle your face slightly to see his eyes.
“Such a greedy little whore,” he chides.
His words should offend you, though all it does is turn you on more.
There’s a sassy comeback somewhere within you, but it doesn’t come to you quickly enough.
Seonghwa pulls away slightly and then slides into your drenched hole.
A gasp falls from your lips.
Seonghwa stills for a few seconds before moving in and out at a pace that’s not too slow, yet not too fast.
“You feel so good, baby,” he groans, thrusting roughly once before going back to his normal speed.
The sudden action has you cursing while you hold onto the bike as you’re lurched forward.
“Like that, Hwa,” you instruct.
Seonghwa smirks, running a hand down your spine before reeling it back and connecting it with your ass.
“You like being stuffed and taking it rough, hm? What else do you like?” he wonders. He pulls out until just the tip remains.
“When you do as you’re told without smart remarks like those,” you groan, sticking your ass out to push him back in. You’re buzzing with need and just need Seonghwa to give you what you want.
Seonghwa’s silent for a moment.
You begin to turn around, but he grabs your wrists and pulls you up. A hand snakes around to your throat while the other holds you tight around your tummy.
You moan when his cock slides all the way in due to his actions.
“Just for that,” he hisses in your ear, tightening his hold on your throat. “You don’t get to come.”
You don’t have a chance to argue with him before he starts snapping his hips.
Loud mewls, squelching, and skin slapping skin fill the empty area.
Your arms are trapped under his, though you’re still able to raise your hands to grab his forearm around your body. His grip around your throat loosens, but he keeps his hand there.
Seonghwa’s using your body like you’re nothing but his toy, slamming his cock deep into your walls and hitting that spot that makes you weak in the knees. His grunts behind you are low and guttural, making you even wetter.
His thrusts become sloppier as time goes on, and you know he’s not far from coming.
Seonghwa can also tell you’re close to your own release by the way you’re clenching around him. Usually, he’d go back on his words and let you dive into your pleasure, but he’s not feeling too nice tonight. Not when he knows he’s just a warm body for you to use to escape your wealthy world. Not when he knows he’s replaceable.
Not when his feelings are on the line.
So, instead of being a gentleman, he slams into you roughly—forcing you to bend over the bike as his cum shoots deep in your cunt.
Instead, he pulls out and starts to get dressed despite your pleas and whines.
Seonghwa watches you with heavy breaths. There’s a moral debate roaring inside him. Part of him wants to fall to his knees and devour you until you come on his tongue. The other part wants to leave you like that. Desperate and needing him to help you.
Desperate.
Needing him.
“You can’t be serious,” you whine, eyes wide in disbelief and fear that he might actually leave you like this.
He picks up his jacket, shaking off debris before shrugging it on.
“Get dressed or make yourself come,” he orders.
Your mouth drops open.
Never in your time knowing Seonghwa has he been this cruel. You know he’s not the most upright citizen, but this?
This is too much.
And you hate him for it.
Too close to your orgasm, you roll your eyes and start to prop a leg up when Seonghwa touches your back.
You eye him with the hope that he’s changed his mind; however, he simply pulls your back against his chest and hooks an arm under your knee. His other grips your hip—not even close to where you need him.
“Can’t send you back with bruises when you inevitably lose your balance,” he explains. “Go on, princess. Show me just how badly you wanted to come on my cock.”
You groan, wanting to pull away but knowing trying to balance yourself on his stupid bike would be a bad idea.
You reach back to grab his arm to steady yourself before you bring your other hand to circle your clit.
Your head lolls back against Seonghwa as you touch your aching pussy. Your fingers glide between your folds, silently cursing the man behind you when you feel his cum coat your digits.
His cum makes it easy for you to slip your fingers in your heat, and you close your eyes as you imagine it’s his fingers instead. The feeling isn’t nearly as satisfying as his fingers or cock, but you make it work.
Your body squirms as you finally orgasm, slumping against Seonghwa while you catch your breath.
Seonghwa smiles. “Feel good?”
“Fuck you,” you curse weakly.
“At least I gave you the opportunity to get yourself off here. I could’ve made you wait until you got home,” he says.
He doesn’t make an effort to move you—letting you regain your energy. At least, he’s not a complete asshole.
“Whatever,” you grumble.
You stay leaning against Seonghwa for a minute before moving away and getting dressed.
Seonghwa finishes getting dressed and is leaning against his bike when you’re done.
“Do you hate me or something?” you ask as you stand before him.
He tilts his head in confusion. “No?”
“Then why did you do that?” you scoff.
Seonghwa chuckles. “Because you should learn that your naughty mouth has consequences.”
He pushes away the underlying emotions that caused him to act like that. That’s something he can ponder over with a drink.
“You could’ve like,” you pause in thought, “given me the silent treatment instead.”
He smiles at you, finding your idea of punishment cute.
“The point of a punishment is for you to learn your lesson,” he explains.
Even though he’s right, you still pout.
“Come on, princess. We gotta get you home before—”
“Your bike turns into a pumpkin?”
“What?”
“What?”
Seonghwa shakes his head, a small grin on his lips, and then offers you a helmet.
“You hungry?” he asks while you swing a leg over.
“A little,” you answer.
“Okay. I’ll stop by that one place before dropping you off,” he says.
“Thanks,” you murmur.
Nearly an hour later, you’re sneaking into your room, a takeout bag in hand.
You’re thankful your family members are deep sleepers. You’re not in the mood to confess all your sins to them at two in the morning.
As you’re munching on the food Seonghwa bought you, your mind wanders to the future.
At some point, you know something is going to have to change—whether that be by force or by choice.
Your family will never approve of Seonghwa. Sure, they may end up tolerating him, but that will take years, and even then, they’ll never truly accept him. Hell, they may even pay him to go away. That brings another thought to mind.
How much would it take for Seonghwa to leave you? Would it take much? Would it even be monetary?
You would hope he’d stick with you regardless of what they’d offer him, but you’re not sure.
Even with the looming possibility of your family discovering your secret rendezvous, there’s another issue at hand. One that’s more internal than the former.
One that involves your heart.
There’s only so much you can do and tell yourself that holds Seonghwa at arm's length. His world is so different from yours. Even if you could be with him, could you really handle it? You’ve never had to worry about money, a job, or chores. Being part of both worlds would be ideal, but you’re sure your family would disown you if you dated Seonghwa. Could you leave it all behind for something that may not last?
Both scenarios result in bad outcomes.
Although one of them is bound to happen, you don’t know which will come first.
A/N: Not sure if I wanna make a part two or let y'all use your imagination... 🤔
Edit: Here's part two 🤣
For my “shy/silent” readers, I’ve created a feedback form where you can share your thoughts on my fics in a more anonymous and private way. ^-^
©️hongcherry // DO NOT REPOST OR MODIFY
Please consider reblogging if you liked this work to show your support. Feedback/commentary is always welcomed.
#ateez smut#seonghwa smut#atz smut#seonghwa x reader#ateez angst#seonghwa angst#biker seonghwa#atz angst#biker hwa#seonghwa fanfic#ateez fanfic#atz fanfic#ateez x you#seonghwa x you#park seonghwa smut#kdiarynet#pirateeznet#ateezlovenet
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@ateez_official_
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no caption needed (as if I knew what to say anyway)
#ateezlovenet#atzsource#seonghwanet#laura.track#heyiri#cheytermelon#melontrack#heyfio#boyidoledit#dailybg#malegroupsnet#mgroupsedit#kpopccc#park seonghwa#ateez#gifs#ateez seonghwa#biker hwa will never leave my brain ever again
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Look Biker Hwa doesn't even have to be a whole fic. Build the world just for me to live in it. You can ask @minisugakoobies! I'm mentally homeless and constantly running away from my problems. Let me squat in your brain.
Luce I hate that you’re finding out like this, but you’re already in my brain. Let me just turn on the fairy lights ✨
@chans-room -knocks on the drift room- lets go bestie, you too!
Let me just grab you three a blanket, and tuck y'all in for story time -pulls up wip-
Brothers Biker Bestie!Hwa (tentatively named Halazia):
“Okay, let's go.” Seonghwa stands, letting you slide down his firm thighs until your feet hit the floor of the motorcycle trailer.
“Where?” Sol shakes her head, in attempt to clear the smoke from the fires that Seonghwa had started there.
“To the apartment, I’m not going to fuck you in the trailer. Not yet anyway,” he adds with a smirk.
#wip wednesday#tbh anyone that enjoys my writing can thank luce#without their encouragement I prob wouldn't have half the wips I do#and um yall can sue b for emotional damages if I take this a cryptic route#but also thing them for their lovely brain and helping me give my two jobless whores: HJ + Mingi a place of work#malucefent#brothers biker bestie!hwa#halazia#the sun to my mars#drift compatible#halazia!au#the lucifer to my lokie
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I need the mv making of
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🔥 Ateez as sports 🔥
Hongjoong - Boxing 🥊
He is just so HOT and a little spoiler: in my next ff he is going to box as a hobby 🫠🔥
Seonghwa - Motor racing 🏍️
Biker Hwa lives in my head rent free since Bouncy came out soo… 🫠🙇🏻♀️
Yunho - Baseball ⚾️
There is just something so hot in Yunho being a baseball player, like his tall figure and his big hands just fits so well to this sport 🥵
Yeosang - Golf ⛳️
I know Yeosang IS archery, but I think golf fits him as well, it’s elegant and it needs consistency ✨
San - Hockey 🏒
Well omfg, this was the reason I started this… like bro was made to be a hockey player with those broad shoulders that could do anything he wants with me tyvm 🙃 Now I’m VERY tempted to write a hockey player San ff 😭🥵 (and I will)
Mingi - Surf 🏄
Okay but this?! I didn’t know I needed Surfer Mingi until I made this 👄 Like are you kidding me?! 🥵
Wooyoung - Soccer ⚽️
I want to see Wooyoung playing football pls 😭 And the fact that he likes it and wears a lot of football jerseys that fits him soo well, it’s giving 🫠
Jongho - Basketball 🏀
Now we all know John is a basketball player like their lore refers a lot of times to that he was a successful player but he needed to stop because of his injury 🥲 I think it really fits him 🤩
A/N: Anyways that’s all 😂 ty if you got here to read my renting LMAO. Let me know what do you think about these.
My favorite is obviously San’s 🫠 Which one is yours? ✨
✨ Masterlist ✨
#orshii#ateez#ateez ot8#ateez imagines#kim hongjoong#park seonghwa#jeong yunho#kang yeosang#choi san#song mingi#jung wooyoung#choi jongho#no1likeateez#bye
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SEONGHWA FIC RECS
last update: 07.31.2023
m- mature , f- fluff , a- angst , c- crack/humor, ☆- personal favorite
e2l- enemies to lovers, s2l- strangers to lovers, f2l- friends to lovers, bf2l- best friends to lovers, cf2l- childhood friends to lovers, fwb2l- friends with benefits to lovers, ex2l- exes to lovers, i2l- idiots to lovers
MASTERLIST
⇢ A DIRTY LITTLE SECRET by @hwa-whiskers (fuckboy!sh, roommate!au, a, m)
❝ Having a crush on your roommate who was the fuckboy of your university was bad enough, but what gets worse is when he brings other women home and you secretly masturbated upon hearing them that night, wishing it were you instead. But how will it unfold when Seonghwa finds out? ❞
⇢ A KNIGHT`S TALE by @kitten4sannie (dragon shifter!sh, knight!reader, fantasy!au, light a, m)
❝ a knight is ordered by the king to save the princess from a fearsome dragon. this, of course, is a common fairy tale with a predictable ending — but what happens when there’s more to the story than meets the eye? ❞
⇢ ADDICTING KITTEN by @tenelkadjowrites (m, f, light a)
❝ When your car breaks down and your phone is dead, you are stranded alone on the way home. However, when Seonghwa, the intimidating figure you see at the club often, comes by and offers you a ride, you cannot help but feel as if you might be walking into the lion’s den. ❞
⇢ AEMULUS by @sluttywonwoo (academic rival!au, fake dating!au, m, f)
❝ park seonghwa is in no position to ask you for a favor. but being underqualified for something has never stopped him before. ❞
⇢ AMAZING GRACE by @yoongiseesawmp3 (f, a, m)
❝ you’re spending the summer at home after finishing school and you somehow get dragged into handling the baby nursery at church for the next two months. the only thing sweeter than the babies is your co-worker, park seonghwa. ❞
⇢ CHEAT CODES by @serendipityunho (m, a, college!au)
❝ "This party's boring, wanna get out of here?", may have perhaps led you to make the biggest mistake of your life by sleeping with your best friend's other best friend, your best friend who happens to be in love with you. ❞
⇢ COMPANY by @atinyidea (hogwarts!au, f)
❝ “not many people would willingly choose my company” ❞
⇢ DAYDREAMING by @sluttywoozi (established relationship, f, m, ☆)
❝ Seonghwa gets a bit... distracted while working on his legos. ❞
pt. 2
⇢ DO NOT DISTURB by @hwasdvlly (established relationship, idol!au, f)
❝ its just a chill live stream, but something happens along the way ❞
⇢ DUNE by @hongism (biker!sh, m)
❝ Your excursions with Seonghwa are never anything holy despite how sacred the time shared between you feels at times. ❞
⇢ ESSENCE by @whatudowhennooneseesyou (siren!sh, m, dark themes)
❝ A siren rescues you from the plunder of a shipwreck, you're grateful for his mercy in letting you live. But at what cost? ❞
⇢ EVERYDAY AT THE BUS STOP by @tenelkadjowrites (f, m, s2l)
❝ your crush on fellow passenger, Seonghwa, changes into something new the day the bus breaks down. ❞
⇢ FIRST TIME by @ateezmakemeweep (established relationship, a, f, m)
❝ Seonghwa's been away for far too long and all you want to do is cuddle. Or so you think. ❞
⇢ GANG AU by @fantastic-bby (gang!au, a, m)
❝ Seonghwa would never get on his knees for anyone… but you’re not just anyone to him. ❞
⇢ GENTLE by @cheollipop (hybrid!au, m, f) feat. wooyoung
❝ desperate and whiny, your heat pheromones triggered wooyoung's feral instincts, forcing seonghwa to step in and teach him how to treat you properly. ❞
⇢ GROUPIE LOVE by @kitten4sannie (guitarist!sh, m)
❝ you'd do anything for your favorite guitarist. ❞
⇢ HOW YOU GET THE GIRL by @starrysvn (ex2l, f, light a)
❝ say it's been a long six months and you were too afraid to tell her what you want. and that's how it works, that's how you get the girl. and then you say; i want you for worse or for better, i would wait for ever and ever, broke your heart, i'll put it back together, i would wait for ever and ever. ❞
⇢ IN YOUR HANDS by @kitten4sannie (vampire!au, m) kinda feat. mingi
❝ you meet someone that excites you again. ❞
⇢ JASMINE & BISCUITS by @daybreakx (hogwarts!au, f)
❝ You knew good things didn’t happen overnight. No matter how magical Hogwarts was, or how many problems a potion or a spell could solve, things didn’t work that way, especially when it came to feelings and relationships. ❞
⇢ LITTLE GREEN EYED MONSTER by @hee0soo (established relationship, light a, f)
❝ Studying with your boyfriend does not have a happy ending ❞
⇢ ME OR THE PS5 by @tohokuu (established relationship, a, m)
❝ you hated black fridays. not because of the great sales, but because your boyfriend, seonghwa had finally gotten the time and money to buy himself a ps5. the long-awaited gaming console he had been gushing to you about forever.. ❞
⇢ MILKY WAY by @ad0rechuu (sm!au, idol!reader, f, a) feat. san & mingi
❝ It’s not everyday that your friends childhood friend turns out to be the girl that you literally have a fan account for, but for Seonghwa, San and Mingi it’s become a reality. being able to get close to your bias is great! even if she does have a raging crush on someone else… ❞
unfinished!
⇢ MR. & MRS. PARK by @baekhvuns (mafia!au, a, m, light f)
❝ In which the task of killing your enemy is abruptly put on pause when you discover their cute little secret. ❞
⇢ ONE QUESTION by @tenelkadjowrites (established relationship, m) feat. mingi
❝ I was wondering how long it was into the friendship before the two of you realized that you want to sleep together?” ❞
⇢ PIRATE!SEONGHWA by @ateezmakemeweep (kinda e2l, a, f, ☆)
❝ “is she alive?" "i don't know." "well check if she's breathing, you scalawag!" "wooyoung, i told you a million times not to talk like that!” "we're pirates, san, how can i no-"
the sound of you choking stops the boy's from bickering, eight pairs of eyes intently watching as salt water comes up from your lungs and spills down your chin. ❞
⇢ PLAYING NICE by @sa-honey (fake dating!au, e2l, a, f, m)
❝ when your date for your sister`s wedding at the last minute you`re left desperate for a replacement. An unlikely volunteer steps up and offers to fill the place. ❞
⇢ PLAYING WITH FIRE by @ateezmakemeweep (f, m, age gap, ☆)
❝ you first met park eunbi during your first year of college, when she walked through your dorm room with a smile on her face and her parents by her side - or, more notably to you, her incredibly handsome father.
that’s all he ever was to you though - your friend’s hot dad who you only ever saw a few times a year. but when you find yourself around him more and more often, your attraction growing and his eyes lingering, you suddenly find yourself in a situation you know is wrong but can’t seem to pull yourself out of. ❞
⇢ PROPERLY by @tenelkadjowrites (m, f, bf2l)
❝ Nervous about running into your ex at a party, your best friend Seonghwa has devised a plan to pretend that you are dating him. However, in acting as if you are together, the friendship begins to change course. ❞
⇢ READ FOR ME by @pirateprincessblog (best friend's father!sh, m, a, light f)
❝ you promised your friend. you asked for forgiveness and gave a promise that you wouldn't even look her father's way. it isn't your fault that you suck at keeping promises. ❞
⇢ SLEEP-TALKER by @mingigoo (vacation!au, one bed trope, m)
❝ When you and you friends decide on a trip tot he beach for spring break, you get stuck rooming with the man you „hate“ the most. The line between love and hate is as thin as ice, and you were about to break it. ❞
⇢ SO OBLIVIOUS by @xxsanshinexx (fake fiance!au, f2l, f)
❝ “Seonghwa I need you to pretend to be my fiancé for the weekend.” Was the words that left your mouth as you burst through the door of your best friends apartment. ❞
⇢ SOME KIND OF DISASTER by @daybreakx (vacation!au, ex2l, a, f)
❝ San’s house was big enough to hold the seven people in the group comfortably. It was spacious and luxurious, and although abandoned for most of the year, it was kept in good shape. This wasn’t the first time you went to the beach house, it had become a tradition to go together every summer.. ❞
⇢ SUGAR RUSH by @sluttywoozi (baker!sh, s2l, f, light m)
❝ Bakery owner Seonghwa is sweet on you. ❞
⇢ THE BEST FRIENDS CODE by @tenelkadjowrites (m, bf2l) feat. hongjoong
❝ Hongjoong swears up and down that if you don’t touch each other, it won’t ruin the friendship...and what is the harm in blowing off some steam? ❞
seonghwa is in part 2 and part 3
⇢ THE SEAT NEXT TO HIS by @oldloveatz (college!au, f)
❝ you’ve had the biggest crush on your friend seonghwa, and either he was oblivious and only saw you as a friend, or he was really good at hiding his truest feelings. ❞
⇢ THE TROUBLE WITH ROOMMATES by @anyamaris (m, roommate!au)
❝ "Y/n!!" You hear your name being called and you sigh, pulling off your headset. Should have gotten noise cancelling, you think and lean back in your chair.. ❞
⇢ UNDER THE LIGHTS by @mimikookie (vampire!sh, established relationship, f, m, light a)
❝ To Seonghwa, you're the most stunning person in his lifetime. He's so committed to you that he gifts you something very precious for your anniversary. ❞
⇢ WALLFLOWER by @tenelkadjowrites (nerd!sh, coworker!au, m, f, ☆)
❝ Having not given much thought about your nerdy coworker, Seonghwa, all of that changes when you hear a rumor about his sexual prowess in bed. ❞
⇢ WEREWOLF!SEONGHWA MEETING HIS MATE by @you-did-well-moon (werewolf!sh, f, light a)
❝ You walked at a leisurely pace as the grass of the damp forest floor swayed and danced with you, seemingly reaching out to you by gently curling over the edges of your boots. An easy smile tugged at your lips at the comfort the forest brought to you. ❞
please like or reblog, it helps a lot :)
#ateez fanfic#ateez smut#ateez#ateez x reader#ateez fluff#ateez fic#ateez fic recs#fic rec#fanfics#fic review#ateez seonghwa#ateez seonghwa fluff#ateez seonghwa smut#ateez seonghwa angst#seonghwa#seonghwa fluff#seonghwa fanfic#seonghwa fic rec#park seonghwa#smut#ateez masterlist#kpop#masterlist#Big Masterlist#seonghwa masterlist#ateez hongjoong#ateez yunho#ateez yeosang#ateez mingi#ateez san
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JEONIFY’s KINKTOBER 2024 MASTERLIST
hi pretties :3 i’m participating in KINKTOBER 2024! i’m preparing way ahead of time because i know i wont have 31 smuts written in the span of a month. i’ll write out my masterlist in order and i hope you’re all looking forward to them !! :) all of these smuts are going to be female reader! if you have any requests, leave them under this post and i’ll definitely add them to the list for the month of october!
please be aware that all of these are NSFW— meaning that all of these works will not be suitable for audiences under the age of 18. trigger warnings include sexual content, mentions of r!pe, su!c!de, smoking, vi0lence, drug use, criminal activity, swearing, etc.
JEON-IFY’s KINKTOBER 2024 MASTERLIST
1. CRY FOR ME - CHOI SAN (dacryphilia | hard!dom san)
2. YOUR EYES - JEONG YUNHO (soft!dom fairy yunho)
3. INTO IT - SONG MINGI (toxic-ex!mingi)
4. TOO MUCH - KANG YEOSANG (mean!yeosang)
5. IN YOUR MOUTH - JUNG WOOYOUNG (throat fucking/dom!wy)
6. PSYCHO BEHAVIOR - KIM HONGJOONG (masked man hj)
7. INMATE 1117 - SONG MINGI (prisoner mingi x psychiatric reader)
8. SLOW DOWN - CHOI JONGHO (masked biker!jongho)
9. I DARE YOU - CHOI JONGHO (mafia leader!jongho)
10. RUN BABY, RUN - PARK SEONGHWA (stalker!seonghwa : based on HAUNTING ADELINE by H.D. CARLTON)
11. CAT GOT YOUR TONGUE? - KANG YEOSANG (dom!reader x sub!yeosang)
12. PACKAGE DEAL - WOOSANGI (mean!dom wy, san, mingi x reader)
13. LIKE YOU’VE SEEN A GHOST - JUNG WOOYOUNG (masked dom!wooyoung x reader)
14. TWIN BITCHES - JEONG YUNHO X SONG MINGI X READER (dom!yungi x sub!reader | CNC)
15. MASK ON, MASK OFF - CHOI SAN (psycho!san x it girl reader)
16. DIFFERENCES - KANG YEOSANG (vampire!yeosang x witch!reader)
17. THERE IT IS - CHOI JONGHO (sub!jongho x dom!femreader)
18. SILVER LIGHT - JUNG WOOYOUNG (dom!wooyoung x sub!san x sub!reader)
19. UNTIL THE BREAK OF DAWN - MINGI X SEONGHWA X YUNHO (dom!seonghwa, dom!mingi, dom!yunho x switch!vampire reader)
20. TWIN SEATER - KIM HONGJOONG (dom!sugardaddy hj x streetracer reader)
21. SHAKE SOME - MATZ (stripper reader x mean!dom matz)
22. LIKE CANDY - PARK SEONGHWA (switch!hwa x switch!reader)
23. MIDNIGHT PSYCHO - KANG YEOSANG (inmate!yeosang x therapist reader)
24. BE THE LIGHT - PARK SEONGHWA (dom!ghost hwa x sub reader)
25. FACELESS - KIM HONGJOONG (faceless man in a dream becomes a reality / dom!hongjoong)
26. I LUV THIS SHIT - SONG MINGI (public sex w/ mingi at a halloween party! x dom!mingi)
27. DADDY LONG LEGS - JEONG YUNHO (dom!reader x spellcaster!yunho)
28. TOKYO DRIFT - CHOI SAN (drag racer!san x schoolgirl reader)
29. SPREAD OUT - OT8 (gang!ateez x pharmacist!reader)
30. PULL ON IT - OT8 (ateez hosts a halloween frat party!)
31. SEX AINT THE ONLY THING ON MY MIND - OT8 (stripper!reader x rich ceos atz)
#kpop smut#ateez#kpop#ateez fanfic#ateez x reader#ateez imagines#ateez smut#ateez san#mingi ateez#yunho ateez#ateez wooyoung#jongho ateez#yeosang ateez#seonghwa ateez#hongjoong ateez
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♡ｐｉｎｋ ｒｏｖｅｒ♡
♡ Pairing: biker!boyfriend!seonghwa x chubby!fem!reader
♡ Summary: When your boyfriend accuses you of cheating, you go to his shop to tear him apart but a revelation brings you closer than you were before.
♡ Genre: angst/smut/fluffiness
♡ Word Count: 1.2k-ish
♡ Warnings: strong language, mentions of violence/criminal activity, hwa & y/n are unhinged (but v sweet to each other), daddy hwa, pet names (pretty girl/good girl), unprotected sex, creampie, oral (f receiving)
♡ A/N: I'm just down bad for Hwa with that goddamn grill in, ya'll. Outlaw Hwa is hitting different rn.
“Just go down there and talk to him!” your best friend shouts from the window of your 4th-floor apartment, “Don’t overreact!” Don’t overreact? My boyfriend’s accusing me of cheating and you don’t want me to overreact? You hop onto your hot pink motorcycle, the one Seonghwa gave you for your birthday, and smile up at your roommate. “Calm down! I’m not gonna hurt---him!” She says something else but your bike’s already roaring down the street, headed straight for Hwa’s shop.
It’s a good thing that the streets are empty tonight. Your mind’s so clouded that nothing good could come of you dipping in and out of cars, dodging drunk partygoers. Hwa would kill you if he knew you were riding like you had a death wish. Then we’re even. You already want to kill him for implying that you’d ever cheat on him with anyone. Let alone Yeosang.
Before you met Hwa you were on your own in this city. As capable as you are of handling yourself, there are bigger badder things out there than you. Not only did Hwa protect you from them, he introduced you to the girl who’d become your best friend, and accepted you into his little family like there’d always been an empty spot there waiting for you.
The love you have for each other is precious to you. It’s the one thing in life you’ve never questioned, making it hurt that much more to find out that he does. When he called you tonight saying that Yunho saw your bike outside of Yeosang’s apartment a few times you didn’t think much of it. Hwa’s been getting into some pretty dangerous things lately and he wouldn’t listen to you when you tried talking him out of it.
You thought, out of everyone, maybe you’d be able to get Yeosang to talk some sense into him. Would it be sorta awkward to tell Hwa that? Probably. What you didn’t expect was to be defending yourself against this after all you’ve been through together.
You pull up to the shop and the garage door’s open as usual. Music’s blasting while Yunho and Jongho work on their bikes, knocking back soju like it’s water. “Ah, shit” Yunho mumbles, eyes widening at the sight of you charging towards him. Stepping into the fluorescent lighting of the shop, you grab the baseball bat Jongho keeps by the door and bust a headlight on Yunho’s bike.
Yunho rushes to the aid of his baby, “My bike! What the hell?” “Did you tell Hwa I slept with Yeosang?” you ask, arms ready to take another swing. Jongho, unphased but not stupid, moves his bike out of the way to avoid being caught in the crossfire. “Hi, y/n” he says innocently, flashing you that gummy smile. You can’t help but smile back, “Hey honey, how’s it going?”
“I didn’t say you slept with him!” Yunho shouts, “I said I saw you two together…” “You said you saw us ‘together’, Yunho? Together?” Your next swing lays waste to a workstation full of tools. “Where is he?” Jongho points to the office, Yunho much too busy weeping over his baby to be of any use. Tossing the bat to the ground, you gently pat Yunho on the shoulder, “My condolences.”
You push your way into the office and, surely enough, there’s your boyfriend. Hwa sits at his desk, toiling away at his comfort engine, a piece he’s taken apart and put together a million times. Something about it helps his nerves and you’ve never questioned it.
There’s a half-empty bottle of soju on his desk and his eyes are puffy. Almost as if he’s been crying. His eyes flick up at you for a split second when you close the door only for him to continue what he’s doing as if you’re little more than a gust of wind.
“What are you doing here?”
“I came to talk.”
“And fuck up my shop?”
“Yeah and fuck up your shop because you’re an idiot!” you yell, snatching the tools from his hands, “How could you ever think that…” Hwa shoots up from his seat, angrier than you’ve ever seen him, at you at least. “Then what were you doing with him? Hmm?” “I was…” “You were what?” “I was asking for his help to stop you..” you admit. The anger on Hwa’s face turns to confusion, “Stop me?” “From doing this…this…suicide mission!”
Tears well up in your eyes at the thought of anything happening to him. You try your best to choke them down but they’ve already begun to fall. “You trust Yeosang so I thought if I could get him to change his mind it’d change yours too.” You lower your head to dry your tears on your sleeves but Hwa’s already rounding his desk, pulling you against his chest. “I’d never do that to you” you sob, breaking away from him.
You dig the keys to your bike out of your pocket, slipping them into his hand. Hwa stares at the keys, his heart skipping a beat as he soaks everything in. “Y/n, I didn’t…” “Don’t, okay? Just…I’m sorry about your shop. I’ll pay for it” you apologize, turning to leave. Hwa blocks the door, wrapping his hand around the knob before you can grab it. “I don’t care about the shop!” he snaps, “Now sit down!”
His shoulders drop, his body language softening, “Please. Sit down.” Noticing your hesitance, he goes back over to his chair, patting his lap. “Please.” Since the day you met, he’s been using that sweet voice and those puppy dog eyes to disarm you. If he thinks it’s gonna work this time he’s…correct. “I’m sat” you huff, plopping down on his lap.
He wraps his arms around your waist, squeezing your soft body. “I’m sorry” he sighs, resting his head against your shoulder, “I don’t think you’d do that to me. You know if I did he’d be dead by now.” A quick reach into the recesses of your brain reveals flashes of what happened to the last man who tried to touch you. Rest his soul. “Then why’d you say it?” Hwa bites at his lip, looking as if he’s ready to cry.
“Hey” you whisper, stroking his cheek, “Talk to me.” Staring into his eyes it becomes clear that what you saw before wasn’t anger at all. It’s fear. “I’ve been on edge all day. I haven’t eaten or slept. I used to be so sure about this mission but now…” Hwa hugs you even tighter, “I have something to lose and that scares me. I have to do this though. They need me.”
He’s right. You can’t even argue with him about it. Trying to stop him has been a lost cause from the start but you had to do something…anything…in case there was the slimmest chance that you’d be able to keep him safe. You kiss him on his temple, petting his head, “You’ll never lose me, Hwa. Promise me you’ll come back and I promise I’ll be here waiting for you.”
Running your hand down his face, you feel his lips curve into a smile. Hwa looks up at you, the cutest thing you’ve ever seen, “I promise.” Instinctively you kiss him and, as his hands dance along the curves of your body. What was meant to be a peck on the lips quickly becomes something deeper. Turning to face him, you straddle his lap, arching against his chest.
Hwa groans, fingers kneading your plush ass. “Are you starting trouble?” You giggle, grinding down against him, “I am.” “Good” he grins, “I like trouble.” He slips away from your kiss a moment to remove the silver-plated mouthpiece adorning his bottom row of teeth. “Oh baby” you whine, lips brushing against his neck, “You know I like it when you eat it with the grill in.”
When you talk like this it makes him go feral, just like you knew it would. Lifting you onto the desk, he shoves everything behind you to the ground. Metal clicks and clanks into the darkest corners of the room as you tear at each other’s clothes, your mouths drawn back to each other with every movement. You’re two magnets bound only to each other.
Hwa pushes you back on the desk, your arms dangling over the edge as your back hits the warm wood. “Ah! Don’t let me fall!” He tosses your legs over his shoulders, pressing your knees to your chest. “Never, my love,” he says through mouthfuls of your thick thighs. Hwa grabs you by the hips to keep you still but you’re still squirming and giggling.
In your defense, his tongue moves so lightly over the surface of your skin that he makes the touch of a feather seem like sandpaper. Hooking two fingers between the cotton of your panties and your clit, he moves his hand up and down, knuckles teasing you each time they graze you the slightest bit.
“You want it?” he asks, fingertips dipping into your moistening entrance for a fleeting moment. You say something unintelligible. An answer jumbled by the loveliest moans. Taking his fingers away, he wraps his lips around your mound, taking all of you into his mouth. The heat that he breathes against you, his tongue running over the outline of your pussy, has you grabbing at the back of his head.
He tilts his head back, licking his lips, “Be a good girl and use your words. Tell daddy what you want.” “I…mmm…fuck” you stutter. You’re doing your best to focus but he presses his tongue against your slit and your mind goes blank. “Eat my pussy, daddy. Pretty please” you pout and he’s ripping your panties off before you can finish your sentence.
Hwa’s tongue dives into your core, feverishly traversing the ridges of your warmth to stroke your sweet spot. Fingers tangled in his hair, you swear you’ve gained x-ray vision with all of the stars he has you seeing. Every curl of his tongue in your center, every slurp of your folds, radiates through your body. Pleasure knocks through your system like dominos. One nerve ending sparking another. Each sensation more intense than the last.
Hwa twists his fingers into you, massaging your walls while his tongue pulses against your clit. The tighter you pull his hair, the faster he moves, driving you higher and higher until you’re ready to implode. “Mmm, that’s it. Cum for me, pretty girl” he hums, his mouth not leaving you for a second. He reaches his free hand up to grip your breast, tearing it free from your bra to thumb your stiffened bud.
“Hwa! Oh my god! Aah…yes, daddy. Yes…y…” A fire sparks inside of you, consuming your entire body. Your eyes roll to the back of your head and you clutch your hands over your mouth to muffle your screams. Hwa delights in how wet you are, creaming all over his fingers, drenching his wrist. Taking your hands away from your mouth, he kisses you, swallowing every noise you make.
“Gonna cum one more time for me? Hmm?” he asks and you feel the head of his swollen cock rubbing against your still core. Hwa thrusts into you, coming down to kiss and lick between your cleavage. You lose your grip on his hair, hands sliding down his back. “Fuck, you’re so sexy baby. Feel so fucking good around this dick.”
There’s no moment of tranquility. No chance to catch your breath. No calm before the next storm begins to roll in. Hwa’s so deep inside of you, so determined to make you take every thick throbbing inch of him. “Hwa…I…I can’t feel my legs” you gasp, clawing at his back. Hwa hisses at how wonderfully it stings, “Good.”
Heart racing, sweat coating both of your bodies, the pressure comes to a head again. “Shit…mmph…don’t stop. Fuck me, daddy!” you cry out, going limp. Hwa cradles you in his arms, his movements becoming sloppy. A uniquely strong twitch of his cock introduces a new warmth to your core as he fills you with so much cum that there’s a fullness in your belly.
He collapses onto your chest, the two of you desperately gasping for air. “Y/n, I…have…something…for…you” he says, his breathing still labored. Hwa reaches down and pulls one of the desk drawers out, digging around for something for a second. You arch your back to stretch your tightened muscles, “Is it a chiropractor?” “Not quite.”
Hwa dangles a familiar looking set of keys in your face. You pluck them from his fingers, inspecting them. Keys? His keys. “To the shop? Hwa, why are you giving me these?” He props himself up on shaky arms, “Someone has to take care of business while I’m gone, right?” “Take care of it? I can’t…I’m not you.” “No you aren’t. You’re better.”
A cacophony of twisted metal, crumbled concrete, and arguing blares out in the garage. Jongho and Yunho rush into the office, immediately turning their backs to keep from seeing more than they already have. The two of you jump to your feet, scrambling to throw your clothes back on. “Seonghwa, we have an uh…problem” Yunho coughs, shoving his hands in his pockets.
Jongho peeks out the corner of his eye, grinning, “It might get a little physical so you might wanna…uh.” Yunho slaps him on the back of the head, “Shut up.” In the distance, you can hear the screeching of tires. “Go! I’m right behind you!” Hwa shouts, clearing them out of the office.
“Are we ripping heads off?” you ask, hopping back into your combat boots. He shrugs, tossing on his jacket, “Maaaaybe.” “Yay!” you cheer, kissing him and running to catch up with the boys. Hwa rests his hand on his heart, utterly smitten with you, “Fuck, I love you! I’m gonna marry you one day, woman!”
#seonghwa x y/n#seonghwa x reader#ateez au#seonghwa x you#ateez smut#ateez x reader#ateez x you#ateez x y/n#ateez x chubby reader#chubby reader#plus size reader
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Take me back
THIS IS 18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI FOR BIKER!HWA’S SAKE (nsfw tags under the cut) (masterlist) (join taglist)
🏍️ pairing: biker!seonghwa x afab!gangster!reader
🏍️ genre: smut, pwp, exes to lovers, fluff, a little angst, romance, just two fools in love
🏍️ summary: you want to convince yourself that you do not need seonghwa, that your rejection is for the best, but when instead of another rose he is the one waiting by your door, you are not so sure.
🏍️ wordcount: 6.9k
🏍️ warnings/tags: biker!hwa, quick solo edit, language, hwa has grills, head over heels enamoured hwa, mention of contraband/dealing of illegal substances, rejection, knight on a bike courting you, discussion of gang activity, set in strictland, lmk if anything else
🏍️ a/n: why hello there <3 i am trying to get back into writing, and seonghwa + the song 'take me back'… transformed me. always, any notes, reblogs and comments are appreciated, much love~
🏍️ perma-taglist: moved to the end of the post!
🏍️ nsfw tags: sub!hwa and soft dom!reader, no protection (wrap before you tap pls), oral (both giving and receiving), hints of scent kink but more for hwa's perfume, dirty talk, intense pet name content (baby, darling, sweetheart, love, pretty boy), praise both ways, riding/cowgirl, reader double orgasm, overstimulation, slight dumbification, creampie, implied cockwarming, cuddling and two people falling in love more and more with each passing second
It did not take much effort to figure out who left the solitary rose on the window sill, between floors three and five - an ironic nod to tradition despite the world moving in a four four time, right on the stairwell that led to your apartment. A white rose sculpted to an ideal by nature and by a cosmetic selection, cut away and left a stilled beauty in full bloom, honoured to wilt in your presence. Picking it up with two fingers, you admired the careful handiwork employed to remove the thorns, because heaven forbid you were to hurt yourself. A smirk pricked at the corner of your lips, but you dared not reveal it - the admirer could be waiting just for this, and you were not feeling particularly merciful tonight. Twisting the rose a couple of times, noting the lack of any tears, breakage in the petals or even as much as a hint of browning due to thoughtless damage, you turned your attention to the stark white sheet of paper, neatly folded in half so as to conceal the contents. Though, who else would dare touch any gifts that were obviously left for you? Certainly not those who knew you, or knew of the admirer who was waiting for a single sign that you would accept the offerings. Opening up the note, you found a new selection of confessions written in poetic lines, ink meticulous, a permanence introduced in a neat and familiar hand, every stroke a cry for you, over you, a projection across the city in an attempt to win your heart. Just like last time, except this time the theme was the moon instead of the sun. The stars, the ocean waters, the air embracing you. If one were to paint a portrait through the words etched onto the pages that you had become a secret collector of, you would become the universe. All-encompassing and all-consuming, having permeated into the heart, soul and mind and turning into reason and motivation, you were the eternal muse. Gaze slowly drifting from the page and onto the dim, dark street outside, you looked out at the corner of the street, right to where it faded into a miniature intersection, leading to a shopping district that was long abandoned and shut down aside from a few underground businesses and repurposed buildings that a regular passer-by would, or should never visit. You would never admit it, but you had grown to expect the silhouette that waited for you, maybe even welcome it. A singular constant in your daily life, one that you hated to admit, but had transformed into a grounding, a tether to something less than madness.
It was not comforting, however. Far from it. The man who was leaning against his motorcycle, side profile distinguishable against the faint lights emanating from the far backdrop was someone who had brought you emotion. And just as the government had prescribed in its comically persistent propaganda, disease was human emotion. Whether one served the nation or was working against it, whether one was a public figure for peace or a private figure for war, the state of feeling was oftentimes a disadvantage. It was, most certainly, the case in your line of work, despite you never directly subjecting yourself to risk - you were not that foolish quite yet. But the dedication of the man in black, blue and silver was forcing you to reconsider. Eroding the boundaries you operated within, knocking on the barriers to find a hollow which he could break. One of these days you knew that Seonghwa was going to be the death of you. Or perhaps the revival. Folding the note tightly shut you pressed it against the rose’s stem, and holding both items between your fingers you began your ascent to the door of your apartment, keys dangling from their ring that was in your other hand.
Soon enough, you heard the rumbling of the engine; that same motorcycle which you had come to see more often than the supplies you managed. As you slid the key into the door, you shut your eyes, imagining Seonghwa’s journey away from your complex. How his glasses, those you had joked about being from a laboratory, would glimmer under the jittery neon of old signs and the fading streetlights. How he would accelerate at the end of the road, making a sharp turn to the right. The grip you had on the note and the rose tightened as you recalled the exhilarating feeling of having your arms wrapped around his sensational waist, feeling the toned muscle underneath his black tank top, snaking your hands, letting them roam his body as he struggled to contain himself and keep on driving. You paid the risk no mind - if anything, this risk was the one you preferred so much more, over any other you had to keep subdued under a brutal thumb. Wondering why your mind was so afflicted this evening, you raised the rose again, detecting nothing suspicious. It was only once you raised the note as close to your face as possible that you rolled your eyes and let a sigh escape you. Of course, the perfume. That damn sweet perfume, with hints of coffee and vanilla, one only he could wear, one that you swore you would never be able to rid yourself off, even if you were to burn the house down and shed your own skin. The memory would remain and you knew that if anywhere, anyone, anyhow would let this perfume enter your system, only Seonghwa would be on your mind. Cursing under your breath, you finally unlocked the apartment and entered, washed over with a sense of dread due to your evident proximity to the handcrafted abyss. It was only a matter of time that this game would end.
Kicking your shoes off your feet and ambling to the living room, you approached the glass that you had positioned at the centre of the tiny dining table, taking out the rose you had previously received and replacing it with the new beauty. Mumbling a goodbye, simply to remind yourself of the fact that you could speak, more than anything, you let the flower disappear in the bin that was across the corridor, in the kitchen. You returned, regarding the white rose again, imprinting its every curve in your mind and hesitantly allowing yourself to compare the softness of the petals to your admirer’s lips, and moved to the cabinet off to the side. A contraband piece, unregulated, from someplace abroad that clearly had more daring, inspiring tastes than your home ever could, which was exactly why you had your loyal employees smuggle it along with the regular supplies to feed the insatiable demand of the sinful city that turned into bills for you. One door opened, another, a few numbers on a keypad pressed and you were in - one of the numerous safes hidden around the flat, the only ones that would stand the test of time, with this one containing the butterflies that plagued Seonghwa, those that he could not help but share with you, fighting pleas that you contained in steel. A cage for the emotions that the man stirred within you, your keeping of the notes supposedly out of sight and out of mind was the last resort for denial. You did not want to witness your demise, and yet, in the night when you were tossing and turning back and forth, illuminated by a hazy blue and grey, your retinas had every note burned into them and your brain would repeat every line back to you over, and over, and over again until you were lulled into a slumber, again, induced by the notion of the one man who you were trying your hardest to avoid. He was behind every corner, physical and spiritual.
He was in the way you cleared away the dishes after eating, the ghost of his torso pressed against your back as he would leave a peppering of kisses over your shoulder, in the crook of your neck and stopping right over the jugular, caressing the sensitive skin with his breath. Seonghwa was in the way you lied down to bed, always occupying the same side, gliding under the sheets that, even though you had washed them, softened them time and time again, you swore still held his echoes - how your body tried to reignite the reminiscence of how his arm would languidly find purchase on your hips or waist, how he would whisper sweet nothings into your ear, the shameless adoration tickling your cheek and colouring it in a faint blush. As you shut the safe with more aggression than anticipated, making the cabinet rattle from the impact, you shut your eyes, the sensation of the memory becoming too strong to handle. Seonghwa’s hands tracing abstract shapes on your stomach, sides, seemingly absent-mindedly trailing upwards to tease a timid gasp out of you, only to follow the curves and contours of your body down until he could have you in ultimate pleasure. And how, polite as ever, he would ask for it. Ask to touch you, beg for it unabashedly, recounting just how good he had been for you, how he would do anything for you, should you command him.
Seonghwa’s blind faith in you, his trust in harmony between outlaws and the timelessness of your union was the very reason you stepped away. With every fibre of what you had remaining of your tainted heart you wished for him to find someone better, someone safer, as far as possible from the rotten criminal hydra of which you were one of the many heads. Part of you always held onto the hope that he would leave the city for good. You knew there were better places out there where he could thrive not as a gang member or a fiend of the roads, but as an artist, a dreamer. You had heard enough stories of lands across the oceans where the sun smiled down on those who walked the grounds there, and how people had choice. Desperately, you wanted Seonghwa to make the right one and leave. But all your senses were far too close to overpowering your rationality that served as the single stop sign for the both of you. The one flicker that would set the gasoline ablaze, and leave you two to burn, unable to turn back. Without bothering to turn on any lights, you felt for your bedroom, stripping off the clothes that screamed both business and dealing, and collapsing onto the covers. Hands tracing the lace of your lingerie, you mused what the man of your dreams and nightmares was up to, across the district, under the same omniscient and omnipresent moon, perhaps thinking of you. His name rolled off your tongue far too easily, too comfortably for it to be forbidden. You knew exactly what would happen should he appear instead of another rose, and this awareness - you feared.
As soon as you stepped into the complex, met with the ancient and occasionally flickering bulb that hung right above the entryway, barely outside of the swinging reach of the rusted metal door, you felt the air had shifted while you were gone. The first sign, however, you had caught onto a lot earlier, during your brisk walk down the street, where you caught sight of a familiar motorcycle parked some ways off to the side, obscured by the smog-dulled trees and coughing shrubbery, and only just peeking out from behind a couple of dumpsters. You had to give it to Seonghwa, the place he chose to hide the vehicle was one of the best in the vicinity, but it was not a surprise - something told you that he had your part of the city mapped out and committed to memory, judging by how easily he navigated every corner, and knew exactly where and when you could catch sight of his presence. Slowly, you stepped towards the stairs, trying to steady your breath, failing to ignore the accelerating pace of your heart. The drumming overtook you, pushing away any sense of control and commitment to rejection, and it was as if you could feel every capillary, every artery and vein being set on fire, oxygen being reduced to nothing, lungs screaming and smoke filling your skull. Leaden legs lifting themselves one step, another until you covered the first flight, making a turn. Forgetting to count, you let your instincts guide you, and even though you knew that you were not going to find them, you were half hoping for another rose and note, a secure arrangement that meant you could fool yourself into not feeling as strongly as you, in reality, did. Suddenly, your suit was too tight over your body, the collar digging into your flesh, the sleeves constricting. You wanted to melt away, sink into the floor, turn into concrete, into the walls or the particles that drifted with the drafts before you were to come face to face with what you were so adamant on denying, with whom you were so adamant on denying. The sturdy soles of your dress shoes resounded on the hard stone stairs, marking your arrival. There was no going back, not now, not ever. As soon as the door to your part of the complex closed, so did the door to a destiny without the man who you could now spot on the next flight of stairs, sat outstretched on the cold angularity, elbows perched on one step higher than his body, impeccably balanced while his legs, bent slightly, were stationed on the flat turning. As you regarded his form through the dark grey, sparse railings, taking in the gravity of his unbelievable presence he did not spare you a single glance, instead choosing to remain downcast, peering off to the side, at the merging of the wall and stairs, or maybe he was caught up in his own thoughts, much like you had been a few too many days and nights.
It was only when you stopped right in front of him, stock still, crossing your arms - be it in defence or in threat, did he look up at you, shattering your heart into an innumerable torrential downpour of pieces. Eyes hidden behind those clear visor glasses were misty, hinting at unspilled melancholia, unexpressed need that only you could tear out of him, a living energy that had always been a sacrifice to your being. At your feet, much like how he was now, even though the pose which he had found himself in was nothing like what he had meant in the notes, in the actions, in the past. Seonghwa pushed himself off the stairs, sitting up straighter, head tilting upwards to not break eye contact. Almost as though if he were to look away, you would evaporate. The buttoned up silver collar of his jacket, concealing a few chains underneath, was gently applying pressure to his neck as he moved without daring to make any excessive movements, including adjusting his clothes. The man determined that he was toeing a far too dangerous line to try his luck with confidence.
After so long, after so many roses, after so many secrets that he had spilled in his poetry he could not continue any longer. Gone were the days when your mirage was enough, a hallucinatory visitation in the middle of his day never did satisfy him, but out of fear of disappointing you, he never went ahead with his urges and the cries of every nerve cell. Distance. A hint of your existence, a glimmer of the lights in your apartment, a dismissive picking up of his gifts from the window sill - those were his only joys as of late, but even that was no longer enough. He wanted you. He needed you. He needed you like a man needed air, needed earth, water, and fire. Seonghwa marked too many days on his calendar, drove too many miles without there being one last hope. So he gave into a risk, and bet his own life on it. As he allowed himself to drown in your ethereal glow, the beautiful, pleading man only just caught onto the words that sliced through the months of silence.
“No rose this time?”
Seonghwa let out a breath he did not know he was holding, and reached out for your legs, pulling you closer to him in a desperate call. Wrapping his strong arms around you, he pressed his forehead into your thighs, only a bite of the lip holding him back from breaking apart. He could not care less if you were going to scold him for crumpling your outfit, or for staining it with tears if they were to spill, for it was worth it. You were real. You were here. You were speaking to him and regarding him. Practically falling onto you and at your feet, Seonghwa wanted to be as close as possible, blend with and into you. Taken aback by the suddenness of the lurch towards you, you could only hold your hands up and let the proximity intoxicate you. Staring down at the top of his head, you had to give up your equilibrium to the man if you were to stay standing. Stay above him. And yet, a stray hand found itself floating through and towards the dark, slicked back locks that your palms remembered far too well. As you followed the lines of each strand, digits grazing the scalp, gently patting the impossibly soft and luscious hair, Seonghwa breathed raggedly beneath you, shaking ever so slightly. For how long had he been keeping it in, you wondered. For how long had he been carrying the weight of feeling with him without letting it escape into public exposure. Gently, you hooked the glasses upwards, letting them rest on the top of his head - a gesture that made him look up once more, hands still clenched around the material of your trousers. A flush of pink across his face, glistening eyes and the beginnings of a waterfall marking his relief threatening to trickle down his cheeks. You noted how his lips parted a couple of times, almost like he was in search to find the right words to say to you, maybe he had even already found them, but none made their way to your auditory, remaining a pantomime. Seonghwa was waiting for everything, and his everything was you.
“Oh come on, Hwa, why are you- up. Let’s get up, yeah?” you motioned with both hands for him to get up, and when he would not follow took a hold of his forearms, tugging until he submitted to the request, more moisture rushing to the surface as he was now right here, level with you on the same ground, in one another’s arms like before, with his nickname turning to the most magical melody when you uttered it, “Hwa, no, don’t cry, baby, I can’t stand to see you hurting.”
Thumbs running under his gorgeous eyes, over the stunning smooth skin and hands stopping to cup his face, you admired him with a full heart, letting go of prior inhibitions. There was no point in trying to ignore what had always been, what you would never be able to escape. You hated how you made him feel this pain. You knew you were the instigator, it was obvious to anyone how you were the one who did not want to follow through with hardships and looked for an easy way out, only finding dead ends and lies in the process. His aroma embraced you in a hypnotising cloud, the same one that never left you. The addictive sweetness that you wanted more, more of until there was nothing remaining. Leaning closer to Seonghwa, you took it in, faces a mere centimetre apart, suspense on a single breath.
“I’m sorry, I could not help it… I-”
“I should be the one who is sorry, baby, don’t say that,” he was too good for this world, you concluded yet again. The longer you knew Seonghwa, the more convinced you became that he was not meant for the city, nor for the life you or he led. You needed to work harder if that could mean buying your and his freedom out of this system.
“Sorry…” he mumbled again, unsteady, inching towards you until his nose brushed against yours. His gloved hands were securely under your suit jacket, toying with the fabric of your white shirt. You nudged him again, reassuring that he was doing everything right, that at least now, he was safe. With you, he was safe.
One of your hands etched the alluring edges of his jawline, travelling down his body and stopping at the jacket. Index finger under the collar, you tugged on the silver material, earning a deeper, expectant sigh from the man. As you snapped the button, pushing the outerwear apart to give you access to his accessories, you felt the metal - warm from the impossible heat oozing from Seonghwa, and slid your digits down the middle of the chest, stopping momentarily at the solar plexus, catching the erratic rhythm of his heart, so intense that you would not be shocked if it were to jump out at any second. You pulled at the black material of his tank top, forcing him to be up right against you, and to stop him from attempting to apologise any more, shifted attention to direct him by his chin. At your mercy, Seonghwa followed. Plush lips parted in anticipation, glossy orbs gaining a darker undertone in the palette contained within, he waited for your final say.
“Did you miss me?”
“Yes. Damn, yes. So much. Too much.” he whispered feverishly, fingers digging into your hips as he sensed your intentions.
“In what ways did you miss me, Seonghwa darling?” knowing that he would achieve nothing if he were to close the gap now, your reawakened passion darted between watching how your mouth moved as you spoke, and studying your irises, head clouded by what had been, and what could be.
“In… every way.”
“Oh, baby, you’re going to have to be a lot more detailed than that.” you mumbled against his lips, leaning away just as he was about to instinctively seek you out.
“I… your company… your words…”
“Should I move? So we can talk?” you teased, jokingly trying to detangle yourself, but to no avail as Seonghwa’s hold got only stronger, and you felt the leather of his trousers fully aligned and pressed against yours. He was impatient, seeking any form of friction, and yet was still holding out well.
“No… please Y/N.”
“Then tell me, what did you miss, exactly, so I can help you out?” an intensity behind the question threw Seonghwa off balance, making his head spin. Your newfound mastery of the dual renaissance bled onto the pages of the future, yet to be written, determined by every action.
“Your lips.”
“Mhm,” you leaned closer, planting a pack on his lips when he least expected it. Just enough to make him realise what you had done, but not any more, denying him the satisfaction of falling into you. Upon hearing his frustrated whine - music to your growing desire, you continued, “what else?”
“Your- your tongue.” he stuttered, eyelashes fluttering as he glanced everywhere except at you, all while rocking ever so slightly on the spot.
“Elaborate, sweetheart, or do I need to drag everything out of you?” you tightened your hold on his chin, dragging him back to you.
“No. Goodness… this is embarrassing…”
“Oh, is my poor baby getting shy? Since when? You always made such pretty sounds for me and now can’t tell me what you want. How am I supposed to take that, hm?” Seonghwa’s cheeks transformed before you, traversing every shade of pink before settling on the deepest hue, “will you be good for me, Hwa? Will you tell me what you missed?”
“I,” he paused, reconsidering, weighing his words, “I miss the way you make me lose my breath when you kiss me. I miss how you unravel me, ruin me with your tongue and mouth around my cock. I miss the feeling of you riding me, I love how every part of you and I is riddled in pleasure as I fill you up with cum and how you don’t stop until I am barely present, and then you bring me right back. I miss how you know me. How you- how you taste. I miss you, Y/N,” he shot at lightning speed, stumbling over his words as he revealed the scenes of his long-standing collections of fantasies that echoed from when you had lived heart to heart, body to body.
The depiction set you ablaze more fiercely than before, and any hints of fear were fully replaced by a carnal greed for the man before you. Need was an understatement. You redefined sin with your voiceless urgency, pushing yourself into Seonghwa’s arms fully, feeling a considerably stronger pressure against your hips where he was standing - clearly you were not the only one who was damning the existence of locks and doors that were barring you from direct access to your apartment.
“See, was that so hard? Now, let me show you how much I miss you.”
A rush, an all consuming energy, a passion that you had not known, taken for granted and realised only when you purposefully lost it and gained it back thanks to Seonghwa being the one to not give up on you, on the flame the two of you created. Your lips moved in a seamless tandem as you stumbled forwards, pushing Seonghwa closer and closer to the door. Fortunately, he had a good enough sense of his surroundings to not trip, falling only for you. You hummed into the sensation, heat pooling to your core as you tasted the coolness of his grills. Nipping at his lush lower lip, you beckoned him to deepen the kiss, a request to which he obliged almost immediately, tilting his head for a better angle. Groaning into the intimacy, you fished out your keys, and after a couple of clumsy tries, finally heard the click of the mechanism. With his foot Seonghwa curled around the door, opening it to give the two of you access, and just barely, you managed to catch it back and slam it shut. As soon as the sound reverberated over the two of you, a switch flipped in your lover, and his hands which were previously almost tied to your hips now freely roamed your body, relearning it, tracing every curve like there was nothing better in this world. Like you were the statue of a goddess and he was a devoted sculptor, working on the masterpiece for all of eternity, aware that he would never be able to replicate the true beauty but still remaining fixated on the blessing that was the process.
Shoes left in a messy pile on the doormat - a problem for later, the two of you tripped over one another, choosing to remain in one another’s arms as you finally made it down the corridor and to your bedroom. As you stood by the frame, you ran over Seonghwa’s inner lips with your tongue, seeking access, and relishing in his taste, better than you could have ever recalled even if you made the effort to. Seonghwa tasted of longing, of a faith that was so rare you swore he was a man from long-forgotten myth or fairy tale, and of the slightest hint of strawberry that he loved so much - the first contraband not meant for human ruin that you had arranged transport and distribution for. Tongue grazing the gold that covered his lower teeth you were finally fully aware, trusting the now; you were not dreaming, you were with him, and you need not deny yourself nor him.
You led him deeper into the room, patient as he felt for the bed behind him to obediently take a seat. Taking his glasses off his head, leaving them on top of a dresser, and motioned for him to rid himself of the jacket and gloves, an order that was punctuated by the articles falling with a thud to the floor. Chuckling to yourself as you recalled Seonghwa’s usual concern with neatness and organisation, the action turned to be a confirmation of his yearning for you. Your own jacket now hanging off the back of a chair located in the far corner of the room, you sauntered back to Seonghwa, swinging a leg over his lap and taking a comfortable seat, facing him. His breath hitched as you grinded closer, feeling his clothed arousal against your body. Following the motion with a few more moves of your hips, Seonghwa gasped, letting his head fall forward, forehead hitting the crook of your neck.
“Y/N, please.”
“Please what?”
“I need you…”
“How do you need me?” you coaxed every wish out of him, gaining pleasure every time he would pause to contain his urge to hide, to back out of answering you, aware of the consequences if he dared to question or dishonour your demands in this sultry ritual.
“I need your mouth, please love, I cannot stand this.”
“But it is right here,” you pointed at your lips, reddened from the previous contact, a coy smile rendering Seonghwa helpless.
“Do you not feel it? Please Y/N I am begging you I need you to su-”
“Not so fast, pretty boy, I need you to convince me.” you cut him off before he could finish his sentence, “can you do that for me?”
“Yes, a million times yes. Please.”
“I suppose I’ll be nice and help you with my clothes,” one button, another, it seemed that Seonghwa was counting with you, ravenous. His hands undid the button and zipper of your trousers, pulling at them to ask for you to let him slide them off. In a few practised moves, you were left only in your bra and panties, a lacy white, earning whispers of praise from Seonghwa, a love for just how well the piece he had bought you some time ago looked, and you, by a twist of fate, happened to choose to wear today.
“Will you lie down for me? All the way up,” without further explanation, Seonghwa shimmied backwards until his head practically hit the headboard, eyes remaining on you, widening as you hastily took off your panties, exposing what he had been pleading for. Crawling towards him, you placed a hand on his chest to tap him out of a lustful stupor, “now darling, can you show me how much you missed my taste?” a nod, another, but you did not move, “words, Seonghwa, I need words.”
“Yes, let me taste your pussy, please.”
“Of course, since you asked so nicely.”
Positioning yourself over Seonghwa’s face, you gripped onto the headboard and lowered yourself until a hungry tongue ran over your already soaked folds, making you gasp. With tentative licks he drew tender, slow circles over your clit before dragging his tongue back to taste you fully, moving in and out of your hole, curling into it. He returned his attention to your sensitive bud, rolling right over its tip, earning a rewarding moan which spurred his eagerness to drive you to higher pleasure. Knuckles turning white from your efforts to maintain at least some illusion of balance, your breaths quickened as he continued to run his tongue over your core, accelerating the buildup of your climax with every flick. Attentive, worshipping every part of you, he sucked on your clit, relishing in the taste of your slick that now coated him.
His hands found purchase on your thighs, levelling you and bringing you even closer to him until his nose was pressed against you, and tongue driven deeper into your wet cunt. A parched man, Seonghwa groaned against you as he felt the first signs of your approaching orgasm, with the vibration sending an electrifying jolt straight to your core.
“Ah- Hwa I-”
“You taste so good, thank you, love,” he mumbled from under you, only to return to abusing your heat with his swift tongue, speeding up as he felt your pussy begin to clench, beg for more, and a light trembling start to course through your muscles. Burying his head between your legs and lapping at the nectar from the lustful, voracious pokes into your hole at the very base to intricate sensuality over your clit, Seonghwa drove you over the edge.
Supporting you through your orgasm with his powerful arms, he moaned as you rode it out, drinking your release and revelling in its sweetness. Stars in your vision, you struggled to lower yourself off your lover, a shudder running over your body as he lifted you a little higher, sliding upwards to give himself a better angle. The action snapped you out of a loss, and you found yourself kneeling next to him, smiling in gratitude.
“Such a good boy for me, thank you my love.”
“Always. May I… kiss you?” he inquired meekly, wondering if his present state could potentially deter you.
“Of course,” you leaned in, closing the space, tasting yourself on Seonghwa’s lips, tongue and grills, but even then, nothing could be more perfect. His hand stretched to run over the side of your face, motivating you to come closer. Fingers in your hair, tugging ever so gently left you breathless. Breaking away, you mumbled promises against his lips, hands moving to work on his leather trousers.
Getting the hint, his top, too, was soon found strewn on the floor, leaving him in the accessories that appeared to only highlight his beauty, so meticulously picked and paired that you had to force to take your gaze away. His irresistible tanned body, every rise and fall of his chest highlighted by the shadows that decorated the room. His beguiling, glazed over expression that was trained on you as you planted kiss after kiss on his torso, each making him question if he could ever breathe again.
“I missed you, Hwa, so,” one peck, “so,” another, “much,” ending below his navel, hand hovering over his member, so painfully erect that you almost felt guilty for getting him to eat you out first.
“I missed you ah-” hand coated in precum and your spit, you positioned it at the base of his cock, causing the abrupt cut in his response. With a steady pumping, you addressed Seonghwa, feigning obliviousness.
“Sorry, you were saying?”
“I- I- fuck-” squeezing its girth, you rubbed circles over the tip, making him lose his train of thought, or its remnants.
“So?” holding his dick in place, you waited for his response before reacting to his earlier words.
“Y/N I missed you- ah shi-” upon hearing the sought after phrase you lowered your head.
Opening your mouth, you shifted position to take in as much of him as you could, gliding your tongue against the shaft in practised motions and moaning as you felt him twitch with the warmth. The dribble that ran down the still exposed length added to the wantonness of the situation as you left behind any wish to remain cautious with Seonghwa; after all, he had been explicit with his love for ruin. Centering yourself, you relax your jaw further, taking in more until you could sense the tip approaching the back of your throat. You placed one hand on your lover’s pubic bone, warning him to not buck his hips, even though you were perfectly trusting of him remaining obedient. Dragging your head up and back down, it was easier moving to the sounds escaping from Seonghwa’s throat.
Gripping onto the bed sheets, he was abandoning the clarity and resolve with which he had showed up at your door so many times. Rose after rose he had not been sure if it was you he was convincing or himself. But here, amidst the unfathomably divine pleasure, Seonghwa was merely grateful for how trivial it was, how natural it was for you to take him back. His high was fast-approaching, but before he could act on it you were already removing yourself with a lewd pop, fingers between your folds and twisting to massage your overstimulated clit. Unclasping your bra, you noticed Seonghwa’s otherwise unfocused gaze immediately switching to paying close attention to your breasts, cock twitching in anticipation as you repositioned yourself to be on top of him. Teasing the tip of his leaking member by trailing it between your folds, you watched Seonghwa’s face contort in pleasure once more, wholly submitted to you as you guided it inside of your pussy. As you sank down on him, sighing from the way in which he filled you up, pushing against your walls in all the right places, Seonghwa grunted, eyes squeezed shut, overwhelmed from the stimulation. It was clear that he was using all the strength he had left to hold himself back from acting rashly - he wanted you, he missed you, and he was not about to let this heaven go.
You started to ride him, hands on either side of his body as you lifted your hips only to drive them back down, sheathing his member inside your cunt. Conscious of the fact that he should let you take the full lead, Seonghwa took to searching for anything better to hold than the sheets, crumpled into oblivion and leaving little in terms of comfort. Grounding him as you rocked your hips forward and back, you found his arms, gliding upwards until your fingers intertwined. Seonghwa’s eyes snapped open and he stared at you open-mouthed, in disbelief at your initiative for what he had clearly remembered you labelling as ‘too close for comfort’. Instead of abandoning the gesture, you tightened your hold, your own moans amplifying and joining his breathlessness as the knot in your core grew tighter and tighter with every thrust.
“Is this- what- you cannot live without, Hwa?”
“Fuck- yes, yes, yes-” words spilled out of him while you picked up speed, spurred on by the nudge of his hips that signified he was close. When he was not submerging himself into pure darkness, he could only manage to register the rhythmic motion of your breasts and an
“Can’t stop thinking of this pussy even when your cock is stuffed inside, huh?”
“Love this pussy- please, Y/N…”
“Love to be fucked dumb by me?”
“Yes, please I- I am so close Y/N…” his wavering voice and feeble pants cried for affection, which you readily provided even though you had no plans of slowing down.
“I know, baby. Fill me up, fill me up with your cum. You can do it darling-”
Seonghwa did not need any more encouragement. With a final groan, suppressed only by a snapping of his jaw to turn the sound into a prolonged hiss, his hips bucked uncontrollably into you, painting your pulsing walls with ropes of white, the awaited release rendering any speech into indecipherable babble. But you still had your high to chase, and restarted your movements, grinding your hips over his throbbing member to build up your climax while Seonghwa held onto you, whining from the excessive stimulation.
“Such a good boy for me, letting me cum over your cock.”
“I- this is too much I-”
“Are you feeling okay, baby?”
“Don’t, please do not stop- I want to make you- ah, cum,” he answered, each word uneven as you raised yourself repeatedly until, with one final movement and the stroke of the tip against your most sensitive spot, you collapsed on top of your lover, a shiver running over you as your pussy clenched around his dick, milking him of the last of his release.
Rolling over to the side, but not quite wishing to move, you remained in one another’s arms, sweat glistening in the night light, adoration ablaze in every feature. Sliding out his softening member from your warmth, a shy smile adorned his lips as a mixture of slick and cum followed, spilling onto your gorgeous thighs. He tapped you on the shoulder, helping you up so that your faces would be level with one another, and pressed his forehead to yours. He focused on your proximity, pulling you closer, closer until there was no space left. He never wanted to let you go. Never again. If you so wished, you could walk away, but he was sure that his heart would remain with you.
If you wanted to, you could throw it away, burn it, cut it into pieces, but it would still be yours. As he saw his future being written in your pupils, he planted a loving kiss on your lips, for it to be returned with just as much feeling. No longer did you wish to hide it away from him. Your emotion, your expression and vision were his. It was clear to you that there was no one else in this universe who could be trusted more than him. If he so wished, you would let him leave you in the cold. If he decided you need not create, you would agree. If innovation was not in his plans, you would follow. In love was sacrifice, in love was offering, in love was future, in love were you and him. It was as simple as the unfurling of a pearl white rose, as clear as ink on white paper.
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found trouble || p.sh (m)
"After not hearing from Seonghwa for weeks, you find him outside your home in the middle of the night. Needless to say, you have a lot of pent-up anger, but so does he."
🏍 Pairing: biker!Seonghwa x richGirl!Reader (afab)
🏍 Rating/Genres/AUs: M(18+); Angst, smut; Biker au, bad boy/rich girl au, friends to lovers
🏍 Warnings: reader has she/her pronouns, lots of arguing and insults, cursing, pet names (princess, baby), reader cries 😔, oral (f & m rec), fingering, unprotective sex (take the necessary precautions!), p in v, multiple orgasms, dirty talk, reader is a brat and Seonghwa doesn’t have that, pussy and ass smacking, hickeys/marks, hwa’s a bit of perv at the end oops
🏍 Word Count: 4k
🏍 Author's Note: Okay, you guys asked for it! Part two of Seeking Trouble. Big shout out to my 🪱 anon in my feedback form who was the catalyst to me actually writing a part two. The "emotionally constipated brat tamer hwa" really stuck with me LOL. Anyway, thank you for the support everyone! ♥️ Please enjoy.
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Tossing your phone onto your bed, you let out a big huff.
That stupid prick.
It’s been four weeks since you heard from Seonghwa.
Four weeks since your last late-night trip to the hilltop outside of town. You’ve tried to contact him, but every text message and phone call goes unanswered. After a few days, you gave up trying to reach him, but you can’t help but check your phone every few hours anyway.
Nearly another week passes when you’re woken by a low rumble outside.
You’ve heard that sound plenty of times. Perhaps the familiarity is what pulled you out of your slumber.
You hurriedly climb out of bed, tugging on your night robe as you stumble to the window.
You can’t see the lights from Seonghwa’s bike, but you know he’s out there. At least, he was out there.
There’s a temptation to climb out of your window to find him; however, your path downward is nonexistent—unlike the movies. You’re not stupid enough to try either.
Instead, you quickly snatch up a pair of shoes and slip them on as you rush out of your room quietly.
It’s cold outside, and the robe you wear doesn’t warm you at all.
You wrap your arms around yourself, and peer left and right. There’s no sign of him.
You strain your ears but also don’t hear the sound of his motorbike.
Cursing mentally at your shit timing, you start to turn around. Though, shuffling to your left makes you halt.
“Who’s there?” you shout in a whisper.
More shuffling, then there’s a low voice.
“Don’t you know it’s safer to stay quiet in situations like these?”
Seonghwa’s figure appears from around the corner of your house.
“Oh, shut it! What are you doing here? Why have you been ignoring me?” you huff, walking toward him.
Seonghwa starts to remove his habitual leather jacket once he sees your appearance, but you stop him with a hand up.
“I don’t want it,” you stubbornly say.
He eyes you for a moment but goes through with his intention anyway.
His body heat from the jacket feels good over your shoulders; however, you’re still mad at him, so you shrug it off and let it fall to the floor.
Seonghwa sighs, picking it up and shaking off whatever dirt got on it.
“Are you going to answer me or—”
“Glad to know you’re still the same you,” he interrupts.
You furrow your brows. “Did you lose brain cells on your little vacation? Answer my—”
“I don’t know why you’re the one upset, you wanted the space,” he replies, face hardening at the memory from weeks ago.
Two days after the hilltop rendezvous, he got an envelope slipped under his shop’s door. In it, was a message from you stating you were tied of his boring life and to forget about whatever was going on between you two. To make it better (or worse), there was a hefty amount of cash in it.
“What the hell are you talking about, Hwa?” you ask.
“Did you lose brain cells on your vacation?” he repeats your insult earlier.
You glare at him, crossing your arms over your chest.
“No,” you reply firmly.
You scan his features. It’s hard to read his thoughts with his blank stare, but you can tell from the increased rise and fall of his chest that he’s mad.
Good.
He can stay mad.
“Here,” he pulls out a white envelope from his back pocket and hands it to you.
You take it, confused.
“What’s this?” you wonder and peek inside. Your eyes widen at the sight of cash. Swiftly, you shove it against his chest.
“I don’t fucking want your stolen money,” you hiss. “Where on earth did you get this?!”
“Are you playing stupid?” he straight up asks, to which you’re taken aback.
“You’re trying to get me arrested,” you accuse.
“No,” he growls through clenched teeth. “I’m giving back your money. I don’t need a monetary incentive to leave you alone. I’m not desperate… Unlike you.”
You blink at him, mouth dropping open.
“First, are you high or something? I never gave you this money. Second, what am I desperate for? I have more money than what’s in that envelope.”
Seonghwa shoves the money back in your hands, and for a moment, it’s like a game of hot potato with both of you exchanging the cash. Eventually, it finds itself on the floor between you and him.
“It was slipped under my shop’s door weeks ago, and from what I know, no one from your family knows about the place, so they couldn’t have framed you. None of my brothers would do this either, so,” he trails off to let you connect the dots.
You listen to him attentively, becoming more puzzled with each word that leaves his mouth.
“I didn’t do that,” you say with a shake of your head.
Seonghwa glances at the envelope with a deep sigh.
“Why are you being so difficult? Just let this end like you wanted it to,” he exasperates.
“I haven’t visited your shop in a month. That,” you point to the cause of this argument, “wasn’t me.”
You try to think of who could’ve done this but come up blank. The only thing you can think of is someone had followed you and delivered the message. But who would care that much that you hung out with Seonghwa?
Does this mean your family knows?
Seonghwa looks up, hair covering his eyes, but you don’t need to see them to know how he’s feeling. The tightness in his jaw gives it away. He’s furious.
He’s rarely gotten this upset when around you. Your brain works overtime to think of a way to calm him down.
“If I wanted to end things, I would’ve done it to your face… without money,” you say.
“Then do it.”
His tone is hard. Cold. Emotionless.
“Do what?”
“End it.”
“End this?” you try to clarify, gesturing between your bodies.
“Don’t make me repeat myself, princess.”
Although the nickname has never been a favorite, it’s never sounded so cruel until now.
“Seonghwa,” you say quietly.
He takes a step closer, and you take one step back.
He takes another, and so do you.
The action reoccurs until your back is pressed against your house’s wall.
“You want someone to take you away from this town? Find someone else,” he demands. “As I said before, Jongho would’ve itched your desire for freedom. But at this point, find someone I don’t know. Jongho doesn’t deserve to be treated how you’ve treated me.”
“What are you talking about?” You try to steady your trembling voice. Something about his words makes your heart clench painfully.
“I know you’re smart, baby. I know you know what you’re doing.”
A shake of your head.
He scoffs and moves away from your body to trek a small circle to calm his nerves. You stay pressed against the wall. You get a feeling you’re not invited to move.
“You’re so tired of this life you live. You need something new. Something–someone–that gives you a thrill, right?” he questions.
You stay quiet.
“I do that, don’t I? I give you that thrill you crave,” he continues and steps closer again.
When you don’t reply, he tilts your head to get a better look at you.
“I asked you a question.”
“You do.”
“And that’s all I do. That’s all you need me for,” he concludes.
“That’s not true,” you argue.
“It’s not? Then why do you want me to stay?”
You swallow hard.
The first response in your head is because you like him. But that’s too simple. And that’s not something you’re fully on terms with.
Your hesitation confirms Seonghwa’s already-made answer.
He scoffs harshly and starts to move away again, but you quickly reach out to grab his arm.
Something about your touch causes Seonghwa to slip out of your reach and pin your wrists to the wall in a matter of seconds. You don’t even realize what’s happening until he’s done and glaring at you with daggers you don’t want pointing at you.
“Because you want someone at your beck and call? Because you want to fuck someone your parents won’t approve of? Does that make you feel like the ‘badass’ you so desperately want to be? You want to be reckless and careless and free-willed?” he taunts. “You can be all that with someone else.”
“I only want you,” you plead, voice betraying your attempt to stay strong.
Seonghwa can see the wall you’ve built chip away. It motivates him to push onward.
“You only want me because I’m already here. If we were to end this, you’d have to start from scratch,” he says.
“No,” you say lowly, but Seonghwa ignores you. He ignores the weakness of your voice and the glossiness of your eyes.
“Or maybe you’re afraid no one will put up with your bratty attitude. You’re going to be stuck in this big mansion, playing Simon Says for the rest of your life because you’re too much of a coward to leave the nest—”
“Stop!” you cry, a few tears falling from your eyes. You tug your wrists from his grasp roughly and push his chest.
He stumbles back but still stares at you viciously.
“Did I get it all right, Yn?”
Your real name sounds foreign from his mouth, and it sparks the defiance inside you.
“No, because your brain is fucking empty,” you snarl. “You don’t know anything!”
He laughs darkly. “I got it all right because you wouldn’t be so upset if I didn’t. You’re just a rich, little—”
“I want you to stay because I like you!” you bark quickly.
That shuts Seonghwa’s yappy mouth.
His jaw clenches once, twice, then he’s rolling his eyes.
“You like the idea of me. You like the leather, the bike, the trouble, the freedom.”
You’re too mad to give a damn anymore.
You stalk toward him, giving his torso a shove with each word you spew.
“I like your humor, your laugh, your thoughtfulness, your stupid smile. I like how you let me vent. I like that you’re not faking who you are with me.”
You’re breathing heavily at this point, tears streaming down your face. Your anger is what’s keeping you warm on the chilly night. It’s what’s driving you to keep talking. To keep spilling your inner thoughts to the man before you.
“The trouble attracted me, but your personality made me stay. You and your stupid—” a hiccup. “Your stupid—”
You try to finish your sentence, but the words won’t come out. The only thing that escapes your throat is a choked sob.
Your fists are clenched in Seonghwa’s shirt, head resting against his chest as you heave.
Seonghwa’s standing still as he listens to your cries.
He came to check on you despite his better judgment—disguised as returning the money. This… This he never could have imagined happening.
Seonghwa’s been aware of his feelings for you for a while. He came to terms with them and accepted that they would only be reciprocated in his dreams. Though, now that he knows your true feelings, he’s stumped.
You sniffle and gradually pull away.
“Go,” you rasp.
You reach down and hold out the envelope.
“I may not have given this to you originally, but it’s obvious this person was right. This was going to end eventually. Why not now? Consider this payment for gas or whatever.”
Seonghwa looks at the envelope.
He does nothing for a while, and it makes you agitated. You shake the envelope and are about to repeat yourself when Seonghwa slaps the item out of your hands and grabs your extended hand.
He tugs you to him, crashing his lips upon yours so roughly it hurts your lips.
But the pain is welcomed.
The pain in your lips eases the pain in your heart.
Your arms wrap around his neck before jumping in his hold. He catches you with ease, gripping you harder than necessary.
His tongue moves quickly in your mouth, claiming it in a way you’ve never experienced before.
You’re tightening your legs around his waist when the sound of a window opening above pulls you both apart.
Your mother peeks her head out and stares down with bugged-out eyes. She calls your full name, but the effect it once had doesn’t stir in you now.
Seonghwa lets you go and starts to step away, but again, you stop him.
“Take me somewhere,” you say, ignoring the yelling your mom is doing. Soon, your dad’s voice joins hers.
Seonghwa’s shoulders deflate a little. “Some things never change, huh?”
You shake your head and step closer. “Take me somewhere so I can stay with you. You’re right. I’m a coward. I don’t want to be their puppet anymore.”
He licks his lips in thought.
“Please, Hwa,” you beg. “I’m serious. I’m ready to leave it all behind.”
Seonghwa smirks slightly, glancing from your parents and back to you. “All for some guy in leather?”
You smile, grabbing his helmet and handing it to him. He shakes his head and pushes it toward you instead. He wasn’t prepared for extra company and only has one. He would rather you wear it.
Seonghwa pushes the motorbike’s kickstand with his foot before climbing on.
“All for some guy in leather with a dorky smile,” you say as you follow suit.
“Get off that bike right now! Have you lost your mind?” your mother yells.
“I’m going to call the cops on you, young man. Kidnapping is a big crime, punishable by law!” your dad adds.
“What does he have on you, Yn? What are you doing? No—! Stop! Stop that motorbike!”
Your mom’s voice fades off into the night as Seonghwa drives off.
You’re smiling like crazy beneath the helmet. For the first time, you feel the weight off your shoulders fully. You know you’ll have to face your parent’s wrath eventually, but for now, you’re worry-free. Your shackles are gone. You finally made the decision you’ve been wanting to make. You just needed a little push… A little help.
Despite Seonghwa’s earlier warnings when you first met, you release your hold on his waist and spread your arms out. Your eyes close as you feel the wind rush past you. For a few seconds, you feel like you’re flying.
You’re liberated.
You’re addicted to the feeling.
Seonghwa moves a hand to rest on one of your thighs while he slows his speed. He can hear your laughing and cheers as he drives, and it brings a smile to his lips—lifting his spirit.
The moment you arrive at Seonghwa’s small apartment, you’re tugging off each other's clothes. You both move with haste. Your hands and mouths are all over the other. It’s as if you only have ten minutes to live.
“Fuck, I missed your mouth,” you gasp as he’s flicking your clit with the tip of his tongue fast. Two of his fingers are gliding in and out of your soaked hole, filling his apartment with lewd noises.
He hums against you as he pulls away.
Seonghwa continues to finger you open while he replies, “I bet you did. Your little toys didn’t do much for you, hm?”
“No,” you shake your head. “You feel so much better.”
He chuckles and lowers down again, licking and sucking your clit until you’re moaning his name continuously and squeezing his fingers as you come.
Seonghwa runs his tongue along his bottom lip as he sits back.
“Come ‘ere,” he murmurs and adjusts your body so you’re sitting upright on the couch—your ass close to the edge.
You spread your legs, reaching out with weak arms to pull him closer. He leans in to give you a sweet kiss.
He keeps his lips on yours while he presses his hard length against you, slowly rubbing it between your folds.
“Hwa,” you mewl into the kiss.
“What do you need?” he asks as he pulls away until his lips are brushing yours.
“You inside me.”
“You sure it’s not me without smart remarks?”
Flashbacks to that night whizz in your mind, and suddenly you fear he’ll leave you without an orgasm. Granted, you just came, but you still want more. You crave more.
Quickly, you clutch his sides so he can’t move away.
“No! ‘m sorry about that. You can say and do whatever you want,” you ramble in desperation.
Seonghwa smirks and angles your face upward slightly.
“See, baby? Punishments work.”
The comment makes you huff at him, pushing your nails into his skin slightly as you move your head out of his grasp. “Don’t be so cocky.”
“You gonna’ get smart with me right now, princess?” he chuckles dryly.
You stare at him, fighting the urge to snap back, but you lack self-control.
“You’re such a—”
Seonghwa raises an eyebrow in warning. There’s a small part of him that wants you to fight back just so he can punish you again.
“Sexy man.” You end lamely, ultimately deciding to comply so you can get what you’ve been craving for weeks—him.
He smiles. “Say what you were going to.”
You shake your head and tug his hips toward you, hinting at what you want. Seonghwa just moves back.
“Oh, don’t tell me you’re obedient now,” he coos mockingly.
“You are sexy,” you protest with a pout.
“But I’m also what?” he prompts.
You sigh, relenting, “You’re also an arrogant asshole.”
There’s a sharp pain against your cunt without warning.
“Repeat it.”
“Seonghwa,” you whine loudly. “Please, just need you inside me.”
“Repeat. It.”
“You’re an arrogant asshole.”
Seonghwa gives another slap against your aching pussy, then rubs your clit fast, causing your hips to buck.
“This arrogant asshole is going to fuck you until you can’t even say those words anymore.”
You don’t get the opportunity to reply as Seonghwa pushes his cock into your walls.
Your mouth falls open at the sensation, heading lolling back.
Seonghwa wastes no time as he starts moving his hips immediately. The stretch of his cock has your mind going muddy, words getting jumbled together to form incoherent sentences.
“My poor baby,” he murmurs and slows down, exchanging speed with power. “Been all alone in her big mansion.”
You whine at his words, remembering how alone you felt when he was away. How needy you were for his touch in the late of nights. Nothing could ever replace his touch, no matter how hard you tried to imitate it by moving your hands the way you remembered him doing.
“Missed you,” you mumble.
Seonghwa kisses your pouting lips.
“Needed me to sneak in and fuck you dumb, right?” he continues, and you nod.
He chuckles, thrusting in particularly hard and earning him a loud gasp from you.
“I always wanted to fuck you in that fancy bed of yours,” he confesses with another powerful snap of his hips. “I probably would’ve had to stuff your pretty mouth with your underwear to keep you quiet.”
“I wish you did,” you say breathlessly.
“Maybe we can make that happen when we get your stuff,” he smiles, pace becoming languid.
“You think they’d let me take stuff their money bought me?” you huff.
“Who says we need their permission?”
“I rather not be arrested by my family.”
“I doubt they’ll arrest you,” he laughs softly.
You shake your head. “They’re crazy. You never know.”
“We’ll work something out,” he promises.
At some point, you couldn’t decide if a relationship with Seonghwa was worth leaving the world you were familiar with behind. Though now, with him in your arms and completely in your heart, you know your answer.
You would happily give up your elegant big room for Seonghwa’s minimal small one.
Seonghwa ducks his face to give you another kiss, then he’s picking up his speed. Your body’s being pushed up the couch, and there are a few times Seonghwa grips your hips to readjust you.
“No one else, but me, right?” he pants against your ear. “You’re mine now?”
“Yes. Just yours, Hwa” you reply, walls squeezing around his thick cock as the pleasure builds inside your tummy.
Seonghwa reaches one hand down to circle your clit while the other pushes your chin up so he can have easy access to your neck. Before, he wasn’t allowed to mark your skin in case your family saw it. Now, he could do whatever he wanted.
Your eyes close, moans falling past your parted lips at all the pleasure Seonghwa is giving you.
“Wanna’ come,” you beg, pulling his body close. “Please let me come.”
Seonghwa can’t help but chuckle at how whiney your voice sounds. He knows you’re thinking about the last time on the hilltop.
“Show me how badly you want it,” he says, and then flips you both so you’re straddling his lap while he sits on the couch.
You don’t let the sudden position change distract you; your hips move as soon as you’re balanced.
Seonghwa groans lowly, one hand resting on your hip while the other goes back between your legs.
You’re rolling your hips so fast that your body aches quickly, but you push through the pain because the high you’re chasing is greater than that.
“Fucking my cock so well, princess,” Seonghwa praises.
You moan in response and soon, your legs are giving out and you’re collapsing against his chest as pleasure washes over you.
However, Seonghwa doesn’t let you rest as long as you wish. He’s pushing you onto your knees in front of him, pumping his cock rapidly.
Your hands rest on his thighs and you lean in, mouth falling open for him to use.
Seonghwa takes the invitation without a second thought—gliding his length between your lips and moving your head as he pleases.
His moans are getting louder the closer he gets to his climax.
The sounds of him hitting the back of your throat cause him to push you off as he releases over your chest.
“You missed,” you frown, glancing down at the white liquid scattered across your breasts.
“No, I didn’t,” he smirks. Despite knowing how much you love the taste of him, he couldn’t let you get away with the names you called him earlier.
Seonghwa bites his lower lip as he stares at the mess he made. “Could have you walk around like that for hours.”
You groan and push at his thighs lightheartedly. “Fucking perv.”
He laughs, offering you a hand to help you up.
“You wouldn’t like that?” he questions playfully.
“No!”
“Hm, sounds like a new form of punishment then,” he hums, more to himself.
“As if! You’re not making me waltz around your apartment covered in your cum.”
Seonghwa says nothing, but the smirk plastered on his face tells you he’s very serious.
“Not today,” he reassures. “Let’s get cleaned.”
You decide not to argue—partly because there’s a high chance he will conduct his new punishment idea—and nod, following him to the bathroom. However, something peeking out of the pile of discarded clothes catches your attention.
You make a quick detour and pluck out the once-white envelope.
Seonghwa turns to watch you when he notices you’re not behind him.
“You took this?” you ask, surprised.
He gives you a lopsided smile. “It’s mine after all.”
“I’m with a thief?” you laugh.
He shakes his head and takes the envelope out of your grasp. “No, I just take what’s mine.”
With the last word, he places the item down and pulls you against his chest.
“Oh? Do you?” you tease and move your arms around his neck.
“You disagree?” he asks.
“No,” you smile.
“Thought so,” he chuckles, pecking your lips. “Now, let’s go. I’m getting cold.”
He starts guiding you to the bathroom, but you turn to glance back briefly to look at him.
“Weakling,” you taunt.
As soon as you turn around, there’s a smack against your ass that has you stumbling slightly. Seonghwa makes no effort to stabilize you. Thankfully, you don’t actually fall.
“Get your ass in the shower, or I’ll tie you up and leave you with my cum over you,” he threatens, a devilish smile forming on his lips.
Your eyes narrow. You want to disobey him, but the better part of you knows better.
At least for tonight.
A/N: Again, thank you for the love you all gave this couple ♥️
For my “shy/silent” readers, I’ve created a feedback form where you can share your thoughts on my fics in a more anonymous and private way. ^-^
taglist: @nina-at-any-time, @jexizia, @ssaboala
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#atz smut#seonghwa smut#ateez smut#park seonghwa smut#seonghwa x reader#seonghwa angst#atz angst#ateez angst#ateez x reader#biker seonghwa#biker hwa#seonghwa x you#ateez fanfic#atz fanfic#seonghwa fanfic#mimikookie writes#kdiarynet#ateezlovenet#pirateeznet#kvanity
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⊂Biker!Seonghwa⊃
TW: nothing
Word count: 3.1k
A/N: A short drabble while I'm away on vacation, because for some reason biker Hwa's been occupying my mind lately, not letting me rest. I can't wait to continue my pirate!au mini-series with Ateez, I miss writing it so much lol. Being at the sea is definitely not helping at all at suppressing my creativity lol. Hope you enjoy this one!
You couldn’t tell when it started, your infatuation with Seonghwa. Infatuation, perhaps, was a strong word, but you didn’t know how else to define it at the moment; maybe crush would’ve been a more fitting term, you thought, but you weren’t too sure about it. Park Seonghwa. You had known him for years, although never truly paying much attention to him, he still managed to become the center of your friends conversations, stealing the spotlight at any given chance without even being around. Seonghwa was quite famous at your school, and in your town, let’s be real, for constantly doing bad things and breaking girl’s hearts left and right. He was your typical bad boy and you wanted nothing to do with him. He was edgy and sometimes quite dramatic; he dressed in all black and wore quite cheap looking jewelry, painting his nails black after he realized girls went crazy for it. He knew he was good looking and he used that to his advantage. He could persuade anyone into doing whatever he wanted and it came in quite handy when he was behind on his schoolwork, his teachers excusing him for whatever dumb story he managed to come up with. Girls ate up his sob stories about his fake pets and evil parents; he came from a very loving family, so you never understood why he was lying about it. And, oh God, when he got his license for his motorbike did his popularity skyrocket even more. You were pretty sure you caught him once making out with one of the teaching assistant’s behind the school, but one side glance from his sharp eyes and you knew never to mention it to anyone. And to be honest, that was probably your first and last interaction with the boy, not that it bothered you. You liked your peaceful life as it was, serene, and void of worries correlated to boys. You didn’t feel like dating at your age yet, seventeen wasn’t too young nor too old, but you felt like you weren’t ready for a relationship. And that was fine, your father was happy too, not quite ready to lose his ‘little’ girl which he was aware you weren’t anymore, but it brought closure to him to know that you didn’t crave male attention just yet. His ‘little’ girl’s heart would remain unscathed for a little longer.
And all of that sounded really good, really, you would’ve never complained about your ordinary life. Oh, well, that is until Seonghwa started showing up to your father’s car service frequently. For some reason, the two of them seemed to be getting on well, and your father allowed him to come in from time to time to fix his motorbikes. Seonghwa owned at least three by now. He was two years older than you and while all of his friends went to college, he stayed behind, telling people he wasn’t ready to choose just one thing he was interested in to study for the rest of his life. However, this confirmed your theory for you that he just didn’t know what he was good at and that he wasn’t smart enough to go to a good college. It might’ve been a little harsh to view him like that, but he never ranked too high in your high school, too busy chasing girls and starting fights. And so, one day, as you made your way home you decided to stop by your father’s car service before heading upstairs as you lived just above it.
The rock music blasted throughout the car service; a few cars scattered around as your father had quite a lot of work for the week. Him and his colleagues were nowhere to be seen and you figured you stopped by during their lunch break, everyone was back in the dressing room. But you wanted to greet your father still, show him the grade you got on your thesis, unable to keep the smile off your face. You scored the highest in your year, it made you ecstatic. Your father would always order your favorite food whenever you brought home an outstanding grade, celebrating your achievement. With a skip in your steps, you waltzed down the spacious room, appreciating the white Mercedes your father was currently fixing. You failed to notice the clanking of tools, so when you turned to your right, your heart almost jumped out of its place as you yelped loudly. The older guy just cast you an unimpressed glance before he bent down again, unscrewing something around the front spring of his motorbike. You placed a hand over your hammering heart, frozen in your place as you watched his long black hair fall over his face. His hair had gotten longer since the last time you saw him, which was probably around a year ago, at the closing ceremony of his graduation.
“Did you become a statue or what?” His low, monotone voice snapped you out of your initial shock and your eyebrows furrowed as you shook your head, remaining silent. Seonghwa cast you a quick glance before he continued working, eyebrows furrowing as he struggled to take off the nut screw. He had been sweating prior and he lightly tapped his forehead before twisting the screw again, nothing happening. You didn’t consider your next actions for long as you let your backpack fall onto the floor before walking up to Seonghwa, kneeling down beside him. He turned his head to look at you, his sharp eyes watching you closely as you inspected his work, chuckling. Of course the nut screw wouldn’t come off if it was stuck, almost fried onto the tube it was holding together. So, you looked around for a little oil and found it on your father’s stand, so, you stood and walked over to it, getting it, then walked back to Seonghwa’s motorbike. You kneeled down again and sprinkled a little oil around the nut screw, failing to notice Seonghwa’s curious gaze on you. Because it was slightly fried against the tube, you struggled to get the nut screw off at first, but after tugging at it and forcing it, it finally loosened up enough to come off, clattering onto the ground. You grinned in victory and grabbed the nut screw, turning your body towards Seonghwa to show him your success but you, instead, froze at the proximity. Your noses were almost touching and your wide eyes took in his face, taken by his mesmerizing features. He seemed tanner than the last time you saw him and his plump lips were redder too, dark eyes gazing into yours intently. Sweat rolled down the side of his temples, stray strands of hair sticking to his damp forehead. You had never seen him from so close before, and suddenly you understood all those girls who gave in to him. He was breathtaking. His sharp gaze held a glint of curiosity in it and that made you self-conscious as you quickly stood, clearing your throat, as you extended your hand to Seonghwa.
“Uh, sorry—” You started, avoiding eye contact, “I should’ve asked before helping—”
“I’ve been struggling to get that off for half an hour now,” Seonghwa chuckled as he stood, taking the nut screw from your hand; you didn’t fail to notice the way his pointer finger ran over the back of your palm, making you gulp nervously at the unnecessary action, “and you did it in like…five minutes.”
You didn’t know what to say so you just picked up your backpack and looked away as Seonghwa took a step towards you, your body tensing, “You’re Mr. Han’s daughter, right?”
“Yes, I’m—”
“Y/N, I know who you are.” Did he really? You smiled a little, nodding your head as you heard laughter coming from behind you, it was your father’s. And as Seonghwa watched you, he noticed how tense you seemed to be around him yet as soon as your father approached the two of you, you had long forgotten about him. It was weird to him; he was used to girls throwing themselves at him constantly.
“Y/N!” Your father hugged you, excited to see you, “What brings you around here?”
Suddenly, a big grin appeared on your lips as you unzipped your backpack, digging around, looking for your thesis. Seonghwa watched intrigued as you pulled the paper out and shoved it in your father’s hands, who’s eyes had the same glint as yours in them. It was quite an endearing sight, how much the two of you resembled each other.
“I got the highest grade, dad!” You exclaimed with excitement and your father chuckled as his eyes ran over the papers, a proud look on his face as he handed it back to you.
“Very well, honey,” He handed you the thesis back, “You know what’s for dinner tonight then.”
Seonghwa watched as the biggest smile he’s ever seen on you spread onto your lips, snatching the thesis away from your father who just chuckled and winked at you. He’s seen you around your high school, but never had the chance to talk to you. It seemed as if you always ran away from him, almost as if you were avoiding him. He knew of his reputation, it was hard not to when everyone kept reminding him of it, yet you never seemed to care as you wouldn’t even cast a second glance his way. You weren’t fascinated nor scared of him, it was peculiar, but he never thought about you for too long. He usually didn’t like challenges when it came to girls and those who played hard to get never had his attention for too long. He wasn’t there for the long run, therefore he found it useless to invest so much energy into one girl only. But you seemed like you didn’t want his attention at all as you kissed your father’s cheek goodbye before you ran out of the service, forgetting about his presence altogether. It didn’t sit right with Seonghwa, and as he gazed after your bouncing form, your father chuckled and looked at him amused.
“Didn’t you two go to the same high school?” He asked and Seonghwa nodded his head.
“We did, but our circle of people were too different for us to know each other.” Seonghwa’s answer made your father chuckle to himself, nodding his head in understanding. He knew what type of boy Seonghwa was, he never truly expected his daughter meddling with him.
“Yes, that makes sense—” Your father said more to himself before his eyes fell on Seonghwa’s motorbike, “How’s the spring, son? Any progress?”
“Oh, I got the nut screw off finally—well, your daughter did, actually.” Seonghwa admitted with a shameful chuckle and your father nodded, not looking surprised in the slightest.
“Yeah, she’s quite the mechanic, my little one.” Your father gloated proudly before he walked off, headed towards the white Mercedes he was supposed to fix by Friday.
And after that first encounter with Seonghwa, you considered it your first real encounter, you seemed to run into him everywhere. It started being creepy after a while and it made you feel weird as you told your best friend, who didn’t think much of it, unsurprisingly, and suggested that perhaps you were just randomly running into each other, your city wasn’t too big, after all. Despite that making sense, you couldn’t help but still think Seonghwa was doing it on purpose as he’d always strike up a conversation with you when you crossed paths. Sometimes it was about something really dumb and it would make you look at him with a questioning gaze, nevertheless, you still seemed to entertain him, curious of his motives. He never made obvious advances towards you, so you really didn’t understand what was the purpose of all of his actions. Perhaps he was looking for a friend now that his other friends were in a different city at college? But that didn’t make much sense as he stopped showing up to your father’s car service since he had fixed his motorbike, yet trailed you around the city whenever you were out. And one evening, as you were headed home from the library, you had been doing research on a fish type for you biology class, Seonghwa was there. Across from the library in the parking lot, sitting on his motorbike as his eyes fell on you. Your heart skipped a beat and you looked around, trying to find the person Seonghwa could be waiting for it. But it seemed like just the two of you were on the street and you sighed as you took off, but not towards him. The sun was long gone and you had to walk quite a lot to get home, so you didn’t want to waste any more time, not a fan of walking around alone at night. But you barely made it a few steps before you heard rapid ones approaching you from behind. By now, you knew it was Seonghwa. You had memorized his walking pattern and the force of his steps.
“Headed home?” And you were right as his head popped up next to yours. You cast him an unimpressed glance before nodding wordlessly. Seonghwa hummed and continued walking next to you, grinning as he realized you were trying not to look at him. You couldn’t help but notice the gear he was wearing, his thick jacket undone and his light sweater showing underneath. He has never touched you before, so when you felt his warm grip around your wrist, halting you from taking another step, your eyes widened. He pulled you lightly forward, towards himself, and you almost tumbled into him. His cologne was strong and you caught the whiff of something strawberry scented, his hair looked like it wasn’t completely dry.
“Let me take you home,” Seonghwa’s low voice was soft and quiet as he looked in your eyes, making you flustered, “It’s not safe for you to walk alone.”
This was it, then, the moment Seonghwa’s been probably waiting for to finally try and woo you. He didn’t seem like the patient type, you had to give him some credit for holding out for so long. And despite every fiber in your body asking you to accept his offer, heart thumping loudly at the proximity and wrist burning from his warm hold, you smiled and softly pulled away from him.
“Thank you, but I did this walk many times before,” Seonghwa wasn’t pleased with your answer at all, and he let you know as his eyebrows furrowed, “There’s nothing to be worried about.”
But Seonghwa didn’t let you leave, stepping in front of you, making your body collide against his, you hoped he didn’t hear your quiet gasp, “There’s plenty to be worried about, actually, so just let me take you home.”
You took a step back, trying to put some distance between your bodies, hoping he wouldn’t see your red cheeks. You didn’t think he’d be this persistent and as you looked up at him, he seemed very determined, “I’ve never ridden a motorbike before and I don’t have the proper gear either.”
That made Seonghwa chuckle and you watched as he quickly took his jacket off, closing the distance between your bodies once again, making you avoid eye contact as he draped his jacket around your shoulders. He held the collar together around your neck and you gulped nervously, his fingers lightly grazing against your neck. His jacket was heavy and a lot bigger than your frame, “I brought two helmets, don’t worry.”
You went to still try and deny his offer nicely, but Seonghwa was already pulling you after him, interlacing your fingers, making you blush again. You couldn’t deny his attractiveness anymore, and despite staying away from him for so long, you seemed to be unable to do so lately. Yes, he was everywhere, but you seemed to want him to be everywhere you were, his sharp gaze always following you, making you stay alert. When he wasn’t looking, you’d sneak peeks at him, admiring his features from afar, imagining as you ran your finger down his tall nose, his plump lips, his sharp jaw, and then all over his dark eyebrows. Park Seonghwa was gorgeous and you now understood those girls trying to get his attention, hoping he was the love of their lives. You entertained that thought sometimes, before falling asleep mostly, wondering if you could fall in love with Park Seonghwa. Wondering if he could genuinely love someone. Wondering if he could fall in love with you and not play you like all those other girls before you, But now, as you stood by his bike, allowing him to place the spare helmet around your head, securing it, it all felt so real and you couldn’t help but wonder if he was ever going to change. Seonghwa suddenly grinned, his smile making your heart melt, as he tapped the helmet where your cheeks were supposed to be, and you found yourself suddenly holding his hands, pressing them down, holding them in place
“Were you waiting for me?” You finally asked what’s been on your mind ever since you spotted him and now a charming smile appeared on Seonghwa’s lips, gaze locking with yours. He suddenly gripped your hands and brought them down to your sides, interlacing your fingers on both hands. You were glad the helmet somewhat concealed your currently red cheeks.
“Yes, I was,” Seonghwa admitted truthfully, “there are no coincidences when it comes to me, Y/N.”
Your heart skipped a beat and you tried not to grin as Seonghwa watched your face closely for a reaction, grinning himself. You didn’t want strands of hair getting into his pretty eyes, so you found yourself pushing them behind his ear, hand lightly grazing against his skin, making Seonghwa gulp. He tried to remember a time when his heart was racing this much because of a girl, but he couldn’t. He watched you as you fixed his hair for him before placing the helmet around his head, securing it and tapping the top like he had done for you. It made him chuckle and you looked down, embarrassed, but excited by his reaction. Despite his bad boy reputation, he was being rather soft and almost shy as he released your hands and got on the bike, beckoning you over too. You got on too, excited and lightly scared by the new experience as Seonghwa brought the engine to life, reeving it a little and making you giggle. You allowed your arms to rest around his middle, holding him tightly as he took off, headed towards your house. You knew explaining this to your father would be a bit troublesome, but you hoped his liking for Seonghwa would help you out a little bit.
Masterlist (divider)
#bvidzsoo#park seonghwa#seonghwa x reader#ateez seonghwa#park seonghwa x reader#seonghwa fluff#park seonghwa fluff#seonghwa drabble#park seonghwa drabble#seonghwa imagines#park seonghwa imagines#seonghwa scenarios#park seonghwa scenarios#seonghwa smut#park seonghwa smut#seonghwa angst#park seonghwa angst#park seonghwa fanfic#ateez drabbles#ateez scenarios#ateez imagines#ateez blurbs#ateez fanfic#ateez x reader#ateez fluff#ateez smut#ateez angst#ateez bad boy au#ateez biker au#ateez fuck boy au
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Biker!Seonghwa x Nurse!Reader
Your pregnancy cravings kick in at 2am, unfortunately, your partner is part of a biker gang....and unfortunately, he loves trouble. At least you love him, and at least you can patch him back up.
warnings: Mentions of violence, blood, and slight gang-related activity. brief mentions of Self-doubt.
w/c: 2020
tags: @cromernet, @starillusion13
Masterlist
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This wasn’t the first time you had asked your partner to go and get you food at 2 in the morning, it certainly wasn’t going to be the last with the cravings setting in. You looked down at the swell in your stomach, much further along than comfortable, with the constant pressure on your bladder, the backache, your feet getting more swollen every day, the mood swings, the constant feeling of maybe this is a heart attack, everything feels like it’s going too slow and too fast at the same time, honestly the whole situation is overwhelming. Not to mention your partner's less-than-desired lifestyle, the danger, the fights, the injuries….sometimes it’s too much. Trying to convince him to get a van and not attach the car seat to his motorcycle, okay that was a joke he got you a brand new car with everything you could need the next day.
Yes the world sees Seonghwa as a hardened criminal in one of the most notorious biker gangs in the country, but to you, that’s your partner, soft, doting, loving, caring, sweet. That’s your Hwa, even when you call him crying because you’re scared, when you called him apologizing for even getting pregnant in the first place, when you found out you were having a girl, and when you wake him up at 2am because you can’t sleep now that your daughter has decided she wants ice cream. He’s always there to take care of you.
“Hwa I’m sorry.” you mumbled into the phone. “I should’ve gone myself.”
“Nonsense it’s just around the corner, now do you want Chocolate? Strawberry? Peanut Butter?” he smiled looking at the ice cream selection. He loves you.
“Whatever is on sale.” you pick at your fingernails sitting on the couch.
“I know your favorite is Strawberry right now does that sound good?”
“...yes.” you blushed a little. “Hwa I’m-”
“Darling, please…it’s the least I can do. I’ll be home soon.” he smiled into the phone, he can’t wait for his daughter to be here, his little princess.
Always comforting. Always just what you need. Your Seonghwa, your home. Everytime he’s there it reminds you why this isn’t so scary anymore. He’ll always be there.
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“H-Hwa?” your voice trembled holding the phone up to your ear. It wasn’t possible you were careful, you were just feeling a little ill and Seonghwa wanted you to see the doctor.
“Darling? What’s wrong? Did everything at the doctors go ok?” he questioned worry lacing his voice.
“I-I’m so sorry!” the tears began streaming down your face. “I’m sorry, I should’ve been more careful I’m sorry!”
“Hey hey baby please, you’re scaring me, what could possibly be wrong? Are you ok?”
“I….I-I’m pregnant.” you whispered in the phone, sobs beginning to bubble up in your throat. “I understand if…” you want to leave…. He was in a biker gang, he couldn’t possibly want a baby….Just then he let out the most enthusiastic yell he’s ever felt come out of his mouth.
“We’re having a baby?!” you could hear the smile through the phone. “You and me? A baby?”
“Hwa?”
“Where are you? I’ll come get you! Stay right there I’ll….Appa is on his way!” he smiled and held the phone tighter.
When he got to you it was like your world froze, he ran up to you and spun you around.
“You’re happy?” you looked at him as he held your face.
“If you think for one second I had no intentions of keeping you forever you are mistaken. In fact I’d say just plain wrong. A baby….our baby.” he smiled and moved one of his hands to your hip and then just in front to your stomach.
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Here you were….sitting on the couch crying again over remembering how excited he was to learn of the pregnancy, a surprise for sure but now…a much welcomed surprise. Sure you had doubts and fears, would you be a good parent, would your daughter even like you….would Seonghwa still love you? He proves the last one every day, never complaining once about having to help or that you’re asking too much. You’ve seen him on the streets, he’s harsh, angry, mean…but that’s not the same Seonghwa that’s not the same dork who comes home and wraps his arms around you and hums into your ear, that’s your Seonghwa, that’s your home. Seonghwa sure is taking a long time to get home…Let me try his phone again.
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“And just what is one of the Chili Peppers doing here?” a voice sounded behind Seonghwa as he hung up the phone holding two containers of Ice Cream.
“I should be asking what a member of the Wolfgang is doing here, since this is Pepper territory after all.” Seonghwa turned seeing their main rival. “Hello, Minho.”
“Seonghwa.” he nodded. “Ice Cream? At 2am?”
“Could be asking why you’re here as well.”
“Oh you know the wife and the cats….all very needy especially with a little one on the way.” he smiled before taking the bag from the cashier.
“Oh congratulations, I’ll have to send a gift.” Seonghwa smiled bagging his items up.
“Depends is it going to be like the birthday present you sent 4 years ago?” he held up the side of his shirt revealing a scar.
“Not with a little one on the way, I was thinking more like a breathable blanket, in case they put it over their head so they don’t hurt themselves.” he smiles thinking about what you told him.
“And the Ice Cream?” Minho raised an eyebrow.
“Craving. Sometimes I just get hungry.” he wasn’t about to reveal that he wasn’t single, let alone you were 7 months pregnant with his child.
“I am sorry I have to do this….just business.” Minho shrugged.
“Well hopefully the Ice Cream doesn’t melt before this is over then.” Seonghwa dropped the bag as they stepped into the nearby alleyway. Don’t worry, he’ll be home soon.
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“And why didn’t you answer your phone, I’ve been worried sick sinc-” you berated him walking through the front door, stopping upon seeing his condition. “Seonghwa!” you waddled over quickly seeing the blood on his face.
“Don’t move too fast.” you both said to each other as you pulled him to the bathroom and told him to sit on the counter.
“Darling I’m okay.” he held your hand as you held a worried expression on your face cleaning him up.
“You’re bleeding.” you stated.
“You should see the other guy.” he chuckled.
“Did you??”
“No it was Minho. He’s probably going to be feeling that for a while.” he winced when I applied alcohol to the wound on his forehead.
You sighed. “His wife is going to make sure he feels it for the rest of his life. They’re a perfect match honestly.”
“Oh you two have met?”
“Oh yes we see the same prenatal doctor, told me her husband was in a biker gang and is reckless, likes to fight this one a lot, always gets injured…I told her it was relatable.” I gave him a pointed look.
“Except I usually win.”
“I wouldn’t call this winning.”
“Reminds me of how we met.” he has a dreamy smile on his face.
“Oh you mean when you barged into the clinic I work at bleeding out onto the floor?”
“Ah you remember it too beautiful.” he takes my hand in his.
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“H-Help.” came from the unkempt looking man. He put his arms on the desk blood hitting the papers. “I-I think I was stabbed.”
“Y/n!” the front desk attendant called over and in rushed who he would describe as an angel, the most perfect person he’s ever seen….why does she look so worried for him….why are the corners of his vision going dark.
He faints.
When he wakes again his in an all too bright room in a lumpy bed with IVs and monitors hooked up to him.
“Morning sleeyhead.” came a voice from beside him “You’ve been out for three days due to blood loss…don’t worry you should make a fine recovery.” she looked at him. Wow. even more beautiful up close. “I have to change your bandages so try to sit still for me.”
“S-Sure.”
“Do you have a name or should we keep calling you John Doe?” she got out the gauze and everything needed to clean the wound.
“S-Seonghwa. My name is Seonghwa.”
“Well Seonghwa, due to your great observation skills you were in fact stabbed. Luckily it was a mindless blow nothing more than a big bleeding wound.” she looked up at him. “I’m your nurse, and the one who stitched you up, y/n.”
“y/n.” he liked the way it felt on his tongue, liked the way it sounded hitting his ears. He enjoyed your sarcasm and the slight smile you gave him, he enjoyed the scent of you perfume hitting his nose. “Thank you.”
“Kinda my job.” she smiled up at him.
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“You changed you shampoo scent since we first met.” he looked at me cupping my cheek.
“A lot of things have changed since we first met, I think the biggest one is between us.”
“I love the snark you have.”
“Hopefully you’ll get a double dose here soon.” I finished cleaning small cuts and putting bruise cream on him. “Hopefully one of these days I’ll ask you to go get Ice Cream and you won’t get into a fight before coming back.”
“He did start it.”
“I know love.” I kissed his cheek.
I went to open the ice cream now that my partner was home and bandaged up.
“Well what do you know.” he chuckled holding me from behind. “I guess I did run a little late.”
“You think?” I looked at the soup of strawberry ice cream leaking out of the container into the bag.
“Here, you can still drink it…and I’ll hold you while you do.” he ushered us over to the couch with a straw and laid me down with him as he held the bump that was his daughter and I sat there drinking what was my Ice Cream.
Yeah this is my Seonghwa….My Home.
Bonus!
“And here comes the Strawberry for my angel Junghwa.” he smiled holding up the mashed strawberries on the spoon for the giggling child.
“Appa!” she smiled and threw her arms up at the fruit on the spoon blubbering and other noises coming out.
“Did you….did you just say Appa?” Seonghwa had tears gather in his eyes. “y/n!”
You ran into the room thinking there was an injury of some sort. How could there be the apartment was completely baby proof, she barely got a scratch running into anything and if she did Seonghwa was there to call for you and act like she was dying.
“She said…she…she said,..”
“Appa!” the girl chimed in again laughing at his shocked expression. “Appa-pa-pa-pa.”
“Oh sure I carry her for 8 and a half months, and you feed her strawberries and she says dad first.” I chuckled and held him as he cried tears of joy being his sweet princess’s first word.
“I love you so much princess.” Seonghwa picked up the smiling girl and kissed her face as tears fell down it. “Take that Minho….my daughter is smarter than your son, already talking. And you look just like your eomma, beautiful and smart, the whole package.” he gleams.
“Ok finish feeding her Appa, then its nap time.”
“Appa.” she says again making him smile over and over hearing his daughter talk to him.
After she ate and was put down to nap we finally got our alone time, no rushing out to go to work or do any dangerous activities like get Ice Cream. I finally got to sit there in the presence of my now fiancee.
“I love you y/n. Thank you so much for Junghwa.” he kissed my temple.
“I love you too Hwa.” I smiled and he snaked his hand around my front, holding me so preciously.
“Let’s have another.” he smiles.
#cromernet#ateez#ateez fanfic#ateez x reader#seonghwa x you#ateez seonghwa#seonghwa x reader#seonghwa imagines#park seonghwa#networks
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Does Biker Hwa send pics like this to Yeosol?
It’s like you read my mind 😏 when I saw these this the other morning I knew they had to be added to the fic. Here's what I'm thinking;
They still aren't dating, and Hwa wants Sol to sneak out of her room to join him for cuddles. She declines...but then he just had to air drop these pics. If only her damn brother would actually lay tf down, but no, Yeosang is laying down, and getting back up to do a face mask, laying down, then getting back up to make a cup of tea, laying down and sending all the Hwa selfies to their hyung group chat because when Hwa air dropped them, it went to both Kang siblings. Will she ever make it to Hwa's room?
#malucefent#brothers biker bestie!hwa#park seonghwa#ateez#kang yeosang#kang yeosol#now watch me wip#halazia!au#the lucifer to my lokie
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final round - choi san
🥊 pairing: boxer/fighter!choi san x boxing coach!gn!reader
🥊 genre: angst, fluff, strangers to lovers, dystopian au
🥊 summary: surviving in a city of outlaws has never been easy, with your days filled with emptiness and fear, and your only comfort being the weekly boxing matches in an underground club. but when you accidentally meet san, promising you a new beginning, your whole world is about to turn upside down.
🥊 featuring: biker!hwa; biker!yeosang; boxing coach/manager!wooyoung; cowboy(????)!mingi; oc!jay
🥊 wc: 5.9 k
🥊 warnings/tags: english is not my native language so there can be mistakes; descriptions of fighting/injuries/bleeding; setting is inspired by ateez's lore and the outlaw album (it's not accurate, just took some details from it, terminology can be inaccurate); use of pet names (angel); reader has an older brother; jay (reader's friend) doesn't represent any real person; there can be inaccuracies about boxing (i tried my best); mentions of guns/shooting (no one is harmed!!); repressive government; mentions of loss of family members/friends; reader is a bartender too; descriptions of kissing; lmk if i've missed something
credits for all the used graphics belong to their rightful owners!
🥊 note: happy (late) birthday to one of my favourite artists and people, sannie!
after all, i decided to post this fic even though i'm on a break lmao i feel a little bit more comfortable with posting it now and am doing better! and also i just couldn't wait to share this with you so...
i had so much fun writing this and got so inspired by ateez's album that i just had to do something about it. i'm trying a different genre this time so i hope you enjoy reading it!!
also, i'm super awkward when writing kissing scenes, help.
any form of feedback is greatly appreciated so don't be shy to reblog with your thoughts, comment or send me an ask! it really means a lot to me and keeps me motivated!
Sweat dripped down your forehead, tickling your chin and neck as you gripped tightly the ring ropes, lunging your body forward with excitement. Even though you’d never admit it out loud, the adrenaline running through your veins during the intense boxing matches you attended every weekend made you feel more alive than ever. The way the two boxers threw fierce punches at each other was not exactly abiding by the game’s rules but no one around you seemed to care or even notice.
Living in a world where tomorrow might never come, these were the only moments you could be your most authentic self without the mask of acquiescence on. This world was sick, filled with horrors and demons, haunting you even in your dreams and watching your every step. However, this world was beautiful too, filled with secretly exchanged hopeful glances and little reasons to look up at the grey sky, praying better days would come.
What you were doing right now - smiling, screaming, the sole act of feeling was illegal but the thrill that filled your body was something you were willing to risk your life for. You had made your decision a long time ago - the rules didn’t matter to you anymore.
“A win for Black Serpent,” you heard the referee shout in an attempt to fight the hundreds of voices, drowning his own as the champion threw his red boxing gloves at the public. Blue and purple marks painted his features and his almost closed left eye was swollen but the triumphant grin plastered on his face told you, as usual, his injuries were not one of his problems.
Such a show-off, you thought when your friend waved at you from the ring, flexing his biceps proudly. It wasn’t surprising to you that he won tonight’s match. During the few years you’d known Jay, you’d never seen him lose. Having been a professional competitor in the past, as he had told you when you first met, the underground club’s matches were his way to escape the harsh reality and remember the good old times.
Plus, you’d seen the bags full of cash from bets after a successful night. After all, that was why you had become his “accomplice” or as he liked referring to you - his devil accountant. The job was simple enough and you didn’t mind the extra income - working as a bartender at the local bar came with its perks but with the money you made you could never possibly afford a place of your own, neither did it give you the comfort you could run away one day from this awful blackhole. So you gladly kept track of the bets for Jay’s matches and sometimes you even helped him train as you knew a thing or two about boxing yourself.
Tonight was no different. As you pushed your way through the crowd, collecting the bills, you saw a lot of familiar faces who greeted you warmly. At least some of them. Others - weren’t so friendly, swearing and even refusing to give you the money, overcome by anger after losing, but they knew better than to test you. No one wanted Jay’s wrath upon them.
“I think you forgot about me, angel,” you heard a raspy voice behind you just as you were about to call it a day and go to the locker room where Jay was waiting for you. Turning around, you were, to say the least confused. The man before you wore a grey hoodie over his head, hiding his features, and matching sweatpants, looking nothing like the usual visitors of the fight club. He was tall but muscular - you could see it even though his baggy clothes left much to the imagination. His broad shoulders and confident stance told you he was much more than he led you to believe. Was he another competitor?
Looking down at his stretched-out hand, you saw a few bills folded in his palm. A cat-like smirk formed on your lips. “Though night for you, huh?”
“I don’t like voting in favour of my biggest competition,” the man laughed as you took the money, writing down the amount in your notebook. Jay was going to be pleased with tonight’s profit which meant another celebration for him and another babysitting gig for you.
However, the stranger’s words made you wonder what exactly his intention was. If he was telling the truth, then why bother betting if Jay was his next match? With his face engulfed in shadows and mystery, his aura alone sent shivers down your spine, alarming you for danger. Taking a step away from the man, you folded your arms before your chest. “What is your deal?”
He tilted his head to one side, regarding you quietly like a predator about to chase his next prey. Closing the distance between you in a matter of seconds, he leaned down to your right ear, whispering softly, his breath hot against your neck, “You’ll find out soon, angel.”
Still in a daze after your encounter with the stranger, you watched him pull away from you, shooting you one last mischievous smirk before diving into the crowd. Shaking your head, you let out a deep sigh.
Trouble always found its way to you.
The deafening sound of the morning alarm, signaling it was time for everyone to go to work, rang in your ears as you walked to the bar where you worked during the day. The sun was still hiding under the horizon and the sky was painted in a mix of deep blue, purple, and orange. The streets were empty without a single soul in sight except you and the black stray cat that accompanied you every day on your way. It brought you a sense of comfort - to have a small friend by your side in these lonely times of the day.
Forming genuine connections with other human beings was almost impossible. There were many stories about heartless betrayals, travelling from person to person in this city of outlaws. Today’s friend could easily turn into tomorrow's enemy. However, right now this place was your everything and all you could do is learn how to survive. You’d heard of other faraway cities where people had it way worse than you did and were much more repressed by the titanic power of the Guardians. Sometimes you were even grateful you were surrounded by outcasts and criminals rather than a white sea of masks, pointing guns at your face.
Here, the inhabitants had found their ways of rebelling right under the government's nose without being noticed and the bar you were currently opening was one of their favourite places to do it. You'd witnessed hundreds of pieces of intel being exchanged for contraband and hundreds of unfulfilled plans for the future dying under the dim yellow lights. Still, no one gave up. That was the only rule everyone followed wholeheartedly - better surrender and lose your life than give up your dreams and hopes and become a dead man walking.
Pushing your thoughts away, you braced yourself for yet another day during which you had to take on the role of the oblivious bartender. Your job was to keep your mouth shut and eyes closed so when you saw one of your regulars enter the building, looking suspiciously around, you almost laughed.
“Good morning, Mingi,” you greeted him leaning on the broom you were swiping the floor with to take a proper look at him. His cowboy boots and hat, the usual, now shabby, long brown coat and the chains dangling at his neck as he walked slowly towards you gave away that he was meeting someone important today. The tall and lean man oozed confidence and threat just by standing and you were glad you were on his good side.
You'd met Mingi on your very first day as a bartender and quickly developed a soft spot for him. You weren't aware of exactly what he was doing except sitting around with you and being a menace to your boss but there were dozens of wanted posters around the city, including on the wall behind the countertop you mixed beverages on. The portrait drawing sure did him justice and you'd always been perplexed as to how the Guardians hadn't caught him yet.
In your eyes Mingi was good-natured and considerate, always asking about your day and throwing a joke or two to make you smile but you'd seen his nasty side too. That was why when he pulled out his pistol from his holster belt and placed it on top of the bar as he sat down on his usual spot, you felt shivers run down your spine.
“Don't worry, Y/N,” said Mingi, turning to look at you with a reassuring smile. If you got paid every time you heard him say this before destroying everything and everyone on his way, you would've been a millionaire. Sighing heavily, you walked over to him to stand behind the bar and took his pistol in your hands. Earning a surprised squeal from the man, you shook your head.
“You're the reason I'm not getting paid, cowboy. The amount of repairs we’ve made in a month is insane.”
“I'm sorry,” Mingi answered with a pout. Your boss wasn't going to be happy he came here again. You could only imagine the old man's smile as he put up these wanted posters. Hell, if he could turn in Mingi himself, he would be on cloud nine. “But be careful and don't shoot anyone.”
“You worry about yourself,” you sighed and pointed behind him. A young man was entering the bar, humming an unknown-to-you melody and carrying a bag over his shoulder. Sunglasses hid his eyes and a grin showed off his dimples.
“You didn't tell me your friend was such a beauty, Mingi,” the man whistled, eyeing you from head to toe after he removed his glasses, placing them on top of his head. You felt heat burn up your cheeks and you found it hard to hold his intense stare. Now being able to properly look at his face, some sort of recognition passed through your mind but you couldn't wrap your head around where you'd seen him before.
As the newcomer sat down next to Mingi, you couldn't stifle your laugh this time. They reminded you of a comedic duo from the comic books you used to read as a child, now long gone and turned into ashes, with the newcomer dressed casually in a black and white shirt, the fabric flowing around his body and a few buttons undone, showing his collarbones, and Mingi in his “official” attire with a serious look on his face and furrowed brows.
“Don't even think of laying a finger on Y/N, Wooyoung,” warned Mingi as your friend took out a white envelope from his coat’s pockets, handing it to the other man. A silent look, holding thousands of words, was exchanged by them before Wooyoung swiftly hid it under his shirt. “We can talk comfortably here. They won't say anything.”
“My lips are sealed,” you made a motion as if you locked them with a key and threw it in Wooyoung’s direction, earning a loud laugh from him.
“I like them. We should recruit them.”
“Absolutely no,” Mingi sternly refused, scolding both of you with a glance. “Let's talk business now.”
Mindlessly washing the shot glasses and polishing them, you listened to the two men’s conversation, pretending none of what they said was surely granting them a death sentence. The images they described with pretty words and empty promises filled your heart with longing for a distant land where everything you'd ever dreamt of was real.
Where there existed other sounds - other than your heartbeat and the screeching alarm.
Where you could look up at the sky and see the stars - not the brown clouds of dust and pain.
Where emotions like sorrow and fear were replaced by joy and comfort.
So you listened and listened until you'd memorised every single sentence, hoping to dream of this new world tonight.
“The others will call for us soon. We just need to wait for a sign,” said Wooyoung, getting up from his seat and stretching his limbs. “San has a match tomorrow so if- no…when he wins, we'll have enough money for the next mission.”
A match?
A lightbulb lit up at the back of your mind as your memories took you to last night’s events. The stranger's words made much more sense than before and you were pretty sure you'd seen Wooyoung, lurking in the shadows and grinning after Jay’s final victorious blow. Keeping this information to yourself, you remained silent even when Wooyoung gave you a knowing look.
“His opponent is pretty tough and so is his coach…,” he trailed off, playing with his silver earrings, shimmering under the first morning rays.
“Good luck then. I'll see you in a week,” Mingi answered, shaking his accomplice’s hand as he too got up to leave. Glancing at you, he placed a few bills on the counter, way too many than needed. “For the special service today.”
“You don't have to-”
“And a bet for Black Serpent.”
“Jerk,” whined Wooyoung, rolling his eyes and earning another warning look from Mingi to whom you returned the pistol you took earlier. “I look forward to our little dance tomorrow, Y/N.”
Giving you a playful wink, Wooyoung took his bag and trailed after Mingi who was already striding to the exit, talking about manners and social norms which you found amusing.
At least, he didn't vandalise property today.
“The underdog vs. the big champion, huh,” Jay hummed as he traced his finger over his opponent's name on the list, placed at the fight club’s entrance. The match was only a few hours away and unable to sleep from excitement, you'd dragged your friend to the ring to practice some extra time. You didn't know what kind of fighter San was but better be prepared than sorry later. The rumors about him going around in the underground club didn’t give you much information either - some said he was ruthless and vicious, others - just a showoff. One thing was sure though - he had an incredible win rate with his name at the top of the rank list at least once a month.
“Isn't it a bit cocky to call yourself the big champion,” you teased Jay as you pushed him inside the locker room so he could change into his practice clothes. You noticed one other locker was closed and were curious who else would've come here at that time of the day. Only champions and their coaches were allowed in when there wasn't a match.
“I know my worth, Y/N,” Jay sighed while rolling bandages over his wounded knuckles. The bruises from his last match were still visible on his body and you wondered if they ever healed. You also mentally noted he had cut his hair down to a buzzcut again. He was serious about tonight then. Not that you expected anything different. San was the only person who could challenge him for his title. “I'm not a loser.”
“Sure, now get up. We have a lot of work to do.”
“Jay, cover-up,” you shouted while monitoring your friend’s warm-up match, feeling your nerves slowly getting to you. You weren't exactly surprised when you found out the other fighter in the club and Jay’s opponent was the stranger you’d met the other night and of course, Wooyoung was his cornerman and manager.
San’s presence turned coaching Jay into a challenge, unlike any other time. His movements were practiced and calculated, his punches swift and precise. The white tank top he was wearing revealed his toned body and well-defined muscles and made you stare more than to your liking. His sharp features and handsome face mixed with his professionalism were a weapon San used well on the ring since you could see Jay was intimidated probably for the first time. Wooyoung’s annoyingly proud smile didn't help either.
Blood was dripping down San’s chin from a cut, gifted to him by Jay after one of his blows, and sweat formed on his forehead as he counterattacked, delivering a strong punch on your friend's face. Their match resembled a passionate and intimate dance that you weren't supposed to witness. Their pride and skills were on the line.
“Parry, Jay,” you once again yelled and seconds later the final bell rang, putting an end to their spar before your friend could react, taking a painful hook from San. Getting up from your chair, you went up to the ring and handed Jay a water bottle which he splashed on his face with a groan. You praised yourself for taking your first aid kit before leaving your apartment. If he was so beaten up right now, you didn't want to imagine what both of them were going to look like by the end of the night.
“You sure know a lot about boxing, Y/N,” San said, breathing heavily as he took his gloves off, throwing them at Wooyoung. It was the first time he addressed you directly today and you were taken by surprise when he jumped off the ring, coming closer to you. His face was glistening and his brown eyes were burning with passion you'd never seen before. Sure, Jay enjoyed fighting but you knew it wasn't the same as it used to be for him. San, however, had the eagerness to learn and win as a newbie even though his skills made you believe he was as good as a coach. Maybe even better than most. “Where did you learn?”
“Let's say I'm very observant,” you answered quietly, trying to avert his attention away from you and the topic. Still, the sting in your heart, forming as memories flooded your mind reminded you of the past you were so willing to escape from. You could still smell the distinctive scent of your brother’s gloves. The thrill that came with each victory. The pain that filled your being after leaving your past life behind without looking back. What had even happened with your family and friends? Were they alive? Were they safe?
“I'd call this more than just “being observant”,” Wooyoung joined the conversation, pulling you out of your thoughts. He put his arm around your shoulders, squeezing them tightly and you whined. “We hit the jackpot, San.”
“What do you mean?”
“We have an offer for you, Y/N.”
The next few months after the official match between San and Jay passed in a daze for you. Someone had to pinch you. Hard.
Wooyoung, you’d realised, was a gambling addict. There wasn't any other logical explanation behind his behaviour. Whatever you did or said, he turned into a bet out of which only one of you could emerge as a winner.
So just like that, after that practice match, he and San had made a proposal that was too difficult to decline and simple enough to follow. If San won, you'd coach him for his next matches and join their small group of outlaws. As they told you - they needed someone competent on their side. If Jay won, you'd go on your way and forget about it. Not that this was possible.
You would've lied if you’d said you had been surprised when San delivered the final victorious blow that night. Secretly, you had hoped for this turn of events not much to your friend’s liking. While you were patching up his wounded and bleeding face, whispering comforting words, your betraying heart was accelerating with your mind plagued by thoughts of San.
Today was no different. As you watched San practice his kicks on a punching bag in the fight club, you caught yourself blushing at one of his particularly precise deliveries. Boxing is my thing, I guess, you thought when he halted his movements to drink some water and pulled his tank top over his head, showing off his toned body.
Moments like this were routine for you at this point - just both of you sitting in silence, only his heavy breathing audible - him practicing and you observing. San’s progress was outstanding and this left you jobless - he didn’t need your directions anymore that much. You didn't feel the need to fill the space with small talk or pointless conversations when you were with him and thought of him as someone who had always been part of your life.
Intimidating at first glance, San was, in reality, the kindest person you had ever met. He cared deeply about the people he loved, always making sure to put them first above everything else. He was also thoughtful and considerate - attentive to everyone’s needs and was always there when you needed him the most. San brought you comfort unlike anyone else and you told him things you hadn't even dared before. Your relationship was progressing fast - with a lot of skipped steps, blurring the line between friends and lovers but you didn't mind. Labels weren't needed for you to feel what you did towards him. Not when you had so few opportunities to be together.
You two often daydreamed about this new world he and his friends liked talking about. He wanted to stop fighting - hurting people was what he hated doing the most but their group needed the money desperately. There was no other choice for him but to sacrifice himself every day. San, instead, wanted to build a home for his loved ones and create a safe space for them where they could be together and where he could protect them.
“You can't protect everyone, San”, you had told him the day he shared his plans with you while both of you were sitting on the cold floor of the locker room, shoulder to shoulder. His proximity had your head spinning and you found it hard to focus on his words. San held your hands, tracing circles mindlessly on them, before bringing them to his lips.
“I have to do what I can, though. I can't just give up on any of you,” he had answered, whispering into your skin, goosebumps forming all over your body. Before that, you hadn't considered yourself that important to him and his words made your heart skip a few beats.
“I know what it feels like…,” The lump in your throat and the painful memories of your family had tears forming in your eyes that you tried blinking away. No point in crying when you didn't have the power to change the past. San brought his big hands to your face, cupping your cheeks, forcing you to look at him, and you tried pulling away. The pity and guilt in his eyes were something you wanted to erase forever.
“You can't just run away from your demons, Y/N. Sometimes you have to face them.”
So you had wept in his arms, telling him your life's story for the first time and he had brushed every fear, doubt, and pain away with his soft touches and gentle gaze.
You had grown up in the Outlaw City’s outskirts, in a restricted area where the Guardians’ influence and presence weren't as noticeable. The people were happy - you remembered seeing children playing freely, people reading and drawing and creating with all their might without being disturbed.
Your parents were ordinary people, working ordinary jobs and living an ordinary life. You and your older brother, however, were nothing like them. The fighting rebellious spirit was something you had no idea who passed down to both of you but you were grateful to whoever ancestor was responsible for it.
You two always found ways to get into trouble - from stealing a guitar from one of the contraband gangs in the city to compose silly songs to your brother learning how to box only to enter underground tournaments to earn some extra income for your family. He had learned from the older kids a trick or two and you had made it your life's purpose to follow him around until he taught you too.
You missed those days dearly. The mornings when you would spar together under the blazing sun for hours. The nights when you would go to the restricted area of the city to fight and then run back home with the money you'd made before someone else took it from you. Every day was a game of survival, but you were happy. You had your brother - your only pillar in this dark world.
Until one day everything changed.
That day, the Guardians had come in groups to your city, taking every child or adult in their way, destroying every last piece of safety. You remembered your last moments with your family before they took them away. Your brother screaming at you to run, your father fighting the white-dressed Guardian, and your mother crying in fear. You had tried saving them but to no avail. At least, you didn't know if they had survived and there was no one you could ask. Five years had passed since.
You found your new home in Outlaw City where everyone was a runaway like you and where no one would ask where you'd come from. Your only resolve was to pray that your family was safe and sound and that one day you would find them. This time you were more prepared than ever, you were ready to protect them at the price of anything. So as San wiped away your tears with his thumbs, you felt the heavy burden of your past lift itself from your shoulders.
“I hate myself for leaving them every day, San,” you confess with a shaky voice, trying to calm yourself down.
“The only thing you could do is survive, angel,” he whispered, putting his hands on your shoulders, and squeezing them. Looking at his bruised face, you reminded yourself that everyone here carried their own scars - both visible and invisible, and your heart hurt even more. “It was the same for me. I had to leave my family behind when I came here so I found a new one. Not that it’ll ever stop hurting any less. All eight of us are the same at heart. We all want the same thing.”
A new world to come, you thought and smiled, thinking of Mingi’s passionate speech from the last time you saw him at the bar. He had told you all about their plans and wanted you to be part of them. To join their found family.
Now, returning to reality, you regarded San curiously and a little afraid as he came to stand in front of your chair, leaning down to place a kiss on top of your head. Blushing at the affection in his eyes, you cleared your throat, searching for the right words. A week had passed since this moment and none of you had said anything about it so you couldn't help but feel flustered at his every word and action towards you.
“How was I today, coach?” San chuckled, gently tracing the sides of your face with his fingertips, rough from the endless fighting.
“Could be better,” you gave him your usual response, San grinning and showing his dimples.
“I have to work harder. But maybe if you stared less...”
“And maybe if you paid less attention to me...”
“That's impossible,” San concluded, crouching down, placing his palms on top of your thighs, and you ran your hands through his messy dark locks. With glinting eyes, he excitedly added, “After tonight’s match some of the boys and I will have a meeting. They want you to come.”
“They?”
“I,” the seriousness in his voice made you let out a laugh and your stomach tightened with anticipation. You had only met Mingi and Wooyoung before with the rest of the boys surrounded by a mist of mystery, with only having heard stories about them. The fact that San was letting you get closer to the people he cherished the most didn't help your fluttering heart either.
“Can't wait.”
San had dragged you out of the fight club and drove you to your apartment to freshen up before meeting the boys with his old van that, who knew how, still functioned. As he had told you while focused on the bumpy road ahead, the vehicle had turned into, both a prison and a temporary home for him and Wooyoung while they were on the run from the Guardians. Guilt washed over you when San described all of their sleepless nights, fighting the demons following them right behind even in their dreams while you were hiding between the four walls of the safety of your home. Mingi’s wanted posters, his constant cautiousness, and the silver pistol always attached to his hip made so much more sense now.
Unfortunately, the Guardians had taken notice of them way too early into their secret operations against the government, and now as you were sitting in front of the boys - their features, illuminated by the dim lighting of the storage house you were in, your heart filled with hurt. In the few hours, you got to know Yeosang and Seonghwa, speeding through the highways every night in search of valuable intel and doing all they could to survive another day, your admiration grew with every next moment spent with them.
Sitting on one of your favourite fluffy blankets on the floor in a circle, eating an improvised dinner consisting of cold chicken nuggets provided by Yeosang, you felt more at home than ever. Mingi and Wooyoung’s silly bickering and friendly teasing, Seonghwa’s warm welcome, Yeosang’s kind smile, and San’s calming presence next to you, filled you with joy, and for the first time in a while, you forgot about the outside world.
“It’s a pity the others couldn’t come today,” said Seonghwa with a sigh as he passed on to you the chocolate bar all of you were sharing. You hadn’t seen one in ages, nor tasted it. Yeosang had just shrugged indifferently earlier at your genuine surprise, telling you he could get one inside the city for you anytime you craved it.
So now playing with the piece in your mouth, letting the sweetness tickle your taste buds, you hummed in agreement. The rest of the group had to stay undercover for a little longer before joining you. “They would’ve loved to meet you, Y/N.”
“They will,” San joined, squeezing your hand and rubbing his thumb over it. Turning your head to look at him, you were met with his dark eyes, shimmering with a glow as if hundreds of stars were in them. You slowly found yourself being pulled by the gravity of his gaze, unable to look away.
“Now, can you two not do this,” whined Wooyoung, earning a playful slap on his thigh from Seonghwa, followed by Mingi and Yeosang’s laughs. “I have to put up with you every day at the club. I’m going to start vomiting rainbows soon.”
“Get a life, Woo,” said Mingi, winking at you. Usually, you could fight back and tease Wooyoung but tonight, embarrassment washed over you after his words. “Leave the lovebirds alone.”
Just then, still holding your hand firmly, San pulled you up gently so now both of you were standing. “Then let’s get out of here.”
The distant hooting of owls, coming deep from the woods, the light chilly late-night breeze, carrying the smell of pines, and San’s warm touch against your skin engulfed your senses, making your head spin. With your eyes closed, all you could do was trust the man as he guided you through the darkness around you.
“Can I open my eyes,” you asked once again with your previous attempts to get a positive answer out of him being unsuccessful. His deep chuckle vibrated through your body, his hand letting go of yours. Longing for his touch again, you reached forward for him but only brushed through the air.
“I’ve got you, angel,” San’s raspy voice now came from behind you and you felt him put his hands on your shoulders. “You can open them now.”
The view before your eyes made you tear up and a lump formed in your throat, every word you wanted to utter getting caught up in it. The little fireflies, swinging around in a slow dance around you, their comforting glow, reminding you of those you used to catch in the hot summer nights in front of your childhood house with your brother, the vast field you were standing in the middle of, and the tickling in your legs from the overgrown grass were all images and sensations you thought you’d never see or feel again for the rest of your life.
“How did you find this place,” you whispered, too afraid someone would take this moment away from you.
“It’s my special place. I think the Guardians have forgotten about it,” said softly San, moving to stand in front of you with a warm smile on his face. “Now I can finally share it with someone else.”
“Do you come here often?”
“Yes, whenever I need to clear my head,” he trailed off, laughing. “And some time away from Wooyoung. The van can be suffocating as much as I enjoy living with him.”
You wondered if this beautiful place was next on the Guardian’s list for destruction. If you’d be able to come back ever again. If it too would disappear with every trace you’d left.
“You’re frowning again,” San’s voice pulled you out of your trance, making you focus on him instead. His face was almost indiscernible in the night, but his eyes and the silver chain, shining around his neck, were illuminated by the moonlight. “You do this often.”
“I guess I’m not used to things like this.” Genuine in a world full of lies. “I feel like you’ll disappear.”
Taking a step closer to you, San put a finger under your chin, your eyes finding his once again. The electrifying feeling of his touch made you dizzy. Now, you could hear his steady heartbeat, with yours drumming in your ears. “I’ll never leave you, angel.”
The moment his lips found yours, enveloping them in a soft kiss, you lost all of your senses and surrendered yourself to him. At first, his touch was gentle as if San was afraid he would hurt you, but once your hands found his neck, your fingers toying with his hair, he got more desperate for you. His own trailed slowly down the sides of your body, wrapping them around your waist and pulling you closer to him. Already out of breath, you felt a fire ignite in your soul that only San could put out.
He left your lips only to place a few shy kisses down your neck, your heart picking up its rate, slamming against your ribcage. Leaving you gasping and wanting more, San pulled away seconds later, the love and adoration you saw in his eyes making you lose your bearings completely. Cupping your cheeks and bringing his face closer, he rubbed your nose gently with his before placing a kiss on your forehead.
“The final round is coming soon, Y/N,” he murmured when you closed the distance between you, hugging him around his waist and burrowing your face at the crook of his neck. You took in his scent - woody and musky, hypnotizing you. “We’ll see the new world together.”
Even if that was just an empty promise and even if this new world never came to life, you didn’t care.
All you needed was San there with you - everything else was bearable.
final round, © moanz111
please do not modify, copy, repost, or translate.
#final round - moanz111#ateez imagines#ateez oneshot#ateez scenarios#ateez fic#ateez fanfic#san x y/n#san x reader#san x you#ateez au#ateez fluff#ateez angst#san fluff#san angst
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