#outlaw!jongho | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

hongism · 11 months

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BOUNCY. - j. yunho, c. jongho (m)

➼ genre; smut ➼ pairing; yunho x fem!reader x jongho ➼ au; outlaw/mechanics!2ho, dystopian futurism, lore accurate ateez ➼ warnings; explicit smut, some terribly unfunny mechanic jokes i’m really sorry ➼ rating; m/18+ ➼ wc; 4.9k

‘Two for the price of one!’ the sign outside the shop had read, and well, you’ve never been one to pass up on a good deal.

part of the outlaw miniseries.

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➼ smut warnings; piv, unprotected sex, semi-public sex, fingering, manual stimulation, pussy slapping, spanking, hair pulling, choking, sloppy seconds, creampie, pet names: sugar, sweets, dear & baby, dirty talk, breeding kink, name calling: bitch & slut, voyeurism & exhibitionism, dom/sub dynamics, dom yunho, sub reader, slight bimbofication, spit play, size kink, praise kink

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You pull up to Outlaw Customs, the repair shop that’s become something of a second home for your car, two minutes before closing. If it were anywhere else — and anyone else running the place — you would never dream of being such a terrible customer, but since you know both men inside well enough to have a working relationship outside of this little business they run, you aren’t worried about causing any issues. And, well, if you do, Yunho will surely let you know in his own snarky way.

The garage door is still wide open, with Yunho on full display at the mouth of it as he works on the vehicle that’s always parked front and center. As you cross the threshold into the garage, your eyes catch on a sign propped up outside that you hadn’t seen the last time you were here. Two for the price of one on any repairs! A scoff slips out of you as you eye it, and that noise is what pulls Yunho’s focus from his work to you.

“You didn’t tell me you were running a deal,” you whine, drawing a laugh from the man before you.

“We still gotta make money somehow, sugar!” He nods his head towards the other side of the car, where another familiar face sits on the run-down couch you gave to them when they first opened up shop down the street from your apartment complex. It was something of a trade and an icebreaker: you needed a cracked headlight patched up, and they needed some furniture to fill out the garage and make it more homey for any customers who would come and go. Jongho gets up when you come over though, simply to move from the couch to the desk chair right beside it, and you take the spot where he was just sat.

“What’ll it be this time, sweets?” Jongho arches a brow at you in question and leans back in the chair. He exudes the same natural attractive confidence that he always has, and it shines through in the way he’s sitting with his legs splayed out and how one hand rests on his upper thigh while the other closes into a loose fist against the surface of the desk. He’s changed up his hair since you were last here too, now accentuated with white highlights that frame his head nicely. Your staring doesn’t go unnoticed, however, and he clears his throat gently when you fail to respond after several seconds.

“Oh, um, I’m in desperate need of a new tire. Back left. I think I hit a nail on the road or something, she’s been causing me trouble for weeks now.”

“And you didn’t come in sooner?”

You draw your lips into a firm ‘o’. “I started having issues two days after you demanded to do my oil change! Which I could have done myself really, but now — I can’t see what’s causing the issue, and no matter how many times I pump the damn thing, it still has shit air pressure. Besides, if you wanted to see me sooner, you don’t have to wait around for me to have another car issue to do so.”

Jongho shifts to find something on the desk. The tips of his ears are stained red, and that color bleeds down to his neck. “Yunho is the one who demanded to do the oil change though,” he mumbles, pulling out a clipboard with a blank sheet of paper attached to it. “I’ll go take a look and do a quick inspection to see if anything stands out.”

“Keys are on the dash!” you call after him before he slips out and leaves you somewhat alone with Yunho. Said man is laughing to himself as discreetly as he can manage but says nothing in favor of continuing his fiddling at the car. “Were you really the one to demand that oil change?”

“Technically no. But I did say that if he wanted an excuse to pull you over here then he could offer to do it for you.”

“Despite knowing I always do it myself?” you inquire as you push up from the couch. Your hands come to rest on your hips, chin tilting to match the attitude in your stance, and Yunho’s tongue pokes between his lips. His eyes move over your body in a quick series of glances before he knocks the round of his wrench against the headlight in front of him as though it’s a hammer.

“Um—” he fights to clear his throat but once he starts blushing, it’s impossible to miss against his pale skin. You step closer to where he’s crouched and squat down next to him once you deem yourself close enough — that being within touching distance, that is, where your shoulder can brush against his any time he tries to move even a hair.

“What are you working on?”

Again Yunho’s gaze finds you; this time, he lets it trail over your face first before going any lower, and you grant him a little smile for the bit of unnecessary chivalry.

“You’re too pretty to dirty your hands on me, sugar.”

“You say that every time,” you argue. You never get tired of admiring his side profile, but right now it comes with the added bonus that it watching his throat bob as he swallows hard around nothing but saliva and air.

“You don’t wanna make sure Jongho’s not changing your oil without permission again?” The roll of your eyes is far from subtle by any means, and the dramatization of the gesture brings a snort of laughter out of the man next to you.

“There are other inspections you can do, right? Since I’m a regular here and all.”

“Are you really in need of new tires, dear? From where I’m sitting, it seems like we aren’t the only ones who try to find excuses ‘round these parts.”

Leaning away, you put a hand over your chest and scoff. “The audacity of this man! Jongho, did you hear that?” He’s moving back into the garage as you call out to him, slapping the clipboard against the outside of his thigh. You only get a laugh out of him which seems to you like he agrees with Yunho. He lowers the garage door once safely out of the way and moves back to his seat at the desk. “See, he didn’t say he didn’t find anything.”

“He also didn’t say he did find something, sugar.”

“And, did he?” you prompt, eyes narrowing on Jongho’s back. Even though he can’t see you, he gives you the answer you want to hear with a quiet hum of affirmation, and you flick your chin back to Yunho to send him a smug little grin. “Besides, is there any harm in wanting a good deal?”

“That depends.” Yunho’s voice drawls a little, and he presses the heels of his hands against his thighs to help propel him into a standing position. The wrench in his hand gets tossed back to the cart nearby, bringing an echoing clatter to fill the garage with noise as your eyes lock. “Two for the price of one is a big deal after all.”

“And?” You stand slowly in contrast to how eager Yunho was to stand upright, but he watches your every move with rapt attention. In this game, it’s hard to tell which one of you is stalking the other — both playing the part of a predator so well that it’s indistinguishable. In your humble opinion, Yunho’s resolve is cracking much faster than yours.

“And it comes with lots of nice add-ons but they can be a lot to handle.”

“I never pass up on a good deal though,” you murmur through a pout, deigning to look down to the floor and back up to meet Yunho’s gaze through fluttering lashes. “I like handing big loads too.”

“Oh my god.” Jongho’s voice and the following groan cut through the building tension. “Quit making gross innuendos and just fuck! Making me sit here and agonize through that shit, disgusting.” Your face draws into something close to a scowl, one that matches his expression when you turn to look at him. In a move of childish vengeance, you stick your tongue out at him.

“Let us have our fun!”

“Yeah, yeah, have your fun and fuck.”

“Not joining?” Yunho asks, hand running over the curve of your hip already.

“I’ll sit back and watch you get your fill first then have seconds later. You always feel best after he’s thoroughly used you, sweets.” Your expression is somewhere between bewilderment and a smile, eyes following him as he moves back to the couch and throws himself down to the cushions facing you and Yunho. “What? He leaves you good and loose for me.”

“Jongho.” Your tone is breaching the edge of chastisement, but the words you plan to continue with are knocked out of you in a soft oof as Yunho turns you towards the car and suddenly bends you over the hood without warning.

“He’s right, isn’t he? I do open you up quite nicely.” You brace your hands against the hood, pushing up just enough to send a look back at Yunho over your shoulder. He’s already moved back some, however, and redirected his attention to slipping his fingers between the band of your pants and the skin underneath. “May I, sugar?”

“Go on then,” comes your whispered response as you settle more comfortably against the hood.

“You look pretty splayed out against our gem, baby.” Your view of Jongho is entirely skewed like this, but you watch him as he speaks. Though still fully clothed, you get quite the eyeful of his crotch with the way he’s sitting in that same damned position that makes you want to crawl between his legs and suck him dry.

“Right where she belongs.” Yunho’s fingers are hot against your sex, cupping you through your underwear now that your pants are down to your ankles. He snaps the flat of his hand to the same spot, and the action draws a shiver out of you along with a breathy whine. “Are you up for subbing tonight, y/n?”

“Yes sir.”

“So good and I barely had to lift a finger,” Yunho coos down at you. Once again his fingers trail over the line of your lips and push fabric against your cunt, not enough to give you any sort of true stimulation but it makes your clit throb with want. “Still remember our safeword?”

“Bluebird.”

“There’s my good girl.” Yunho slaps his palm against your mound harder to accentuate his words. You let out a moan that catches you off-guard, but Yunho doesn’t allow you time to adjust to the new sensations. “Count for me, sugar.”

“How many do you think she deserves tonight?” From your perspective, you can see Jongho’s hand move in slow circles against the front of his pants.

“Hm, fifteen to start? She was mouthing off quite a lot with me earlier.” A chilling rush of adrenaline pushes through your body, a whine hanging at your lips and threatening to interrupt their conversation, but you bite it back by sinking your teeth into your lower lip. Jongho catches your slight blunder before you have the chance to hide it.

“Oh? I think she wants to say something, Yun.”

“What is it, sugar? You can count that high still, right? After all my cock isn’t in you yet. Your little head should be perfectly intact still.” Yunho slides a hand down your back and finds a resting place at your tailbone. He takes the fabric of your shirt into his palm before bunching it into his fist and yanking your body along the hood of the car. “Not a dumb cockslut yet, baby, come on and answer the question.”

“I-I can, yeah, I can count that high, sir.”

“Good girl. You sound nice and desperate already. Maybe you shouldn’t wait so long to come see us anymore, hm?”

“I won’t,” you whisper. Yunho’s hand comes down on your ass, slapping against the bare skin exposed by your panties, and the sting comes immediately. “I’ll come sooner next time.” Yunho clicks his tongue though. Your gaze is locked onto Jongho, however, and focused on following his movements as he pulls his pants down his thighs and lets his thick cock spring out fully erect and leaking at the tip already. Yunho tightens his grip on you. The pressure on your body increases tenfold, making it hard to breathe under the weight atop you. You feel hot breath cascading over your ear as Yunho inserts himself into your personal space.

“Don’t tell me you’ve already forgotten how to fuckin’ count, sugar,” he hisses into the shell of your ear. His tone is so wildly different than the one he uses in casual conversation — biting and scathing to the point of muddling your thoughts with desire. Nothing quite compares to sex with an angry Yunho, though you rarely can rile him up to that point and even now you don’t have him like that, just the barebones of annoyance that tease something more.

“N-No! One, one, I’m sorry sir.”

“If he’s so distracting, I can send you over to him with no prep, dear.”

“No, it’s okay, I’m — I’m focused, I promise. Please continue?” His response comes in the form of two more slaps over the same spot as the first one, sharp and pointed to make the skin beneath him heat up further. “Three…”

“Now that I’ve got your attention, make sure I keep it, sweetheart.”

There’s no real need for that reminder in your mind because once he starts building a steady rhythm and delivering the spanks to your ass with mere seconds between each one, you have no choice but to focus on him. Jongho is still before you, a sight unfolding gloriously as he strokes at his length with lazy little jerks and no intention of bringing himself much pleasure beyond that. Even Yunho goes quiet in his ministrations behind you, leaving the air to be filled with the sounds of his hand on your skin and whatever broken number you choke out after each one. You want to twist and writhe under him, to alleviate some of the burn that’s so present on your backside, but each time you try to so much as shift an inch, Yunho delivers an extra slap to your cunt. Well-placed and effective too — so close to your clit that it makes your knees buckle and you fall back into the position Yunho wants you in to carry out his task. The first ounce of reprieve comes at eleven, right when you’ve settled to push through the pleasurable punishment to the end.

“You know, sugar, you’re taking this so well that I’m wondering if we should increase the number. You aren’t nearly red enough yet, and we picked an odd number. I can’t show equal love to both sides like that.”

“Twenty?” Jongho chimes in, smile twisting as you shake your head. “Thirty?”

“Twenty is fine, I—” you inhale sharply at the sensation of Yunho running his hand along your skin. His touch is cold now, a welcome balm to the heat that emanates from the spot he’s just been hitting so ruthlessly. Your voice is so shaky that you have to swallow to contain the tremble before continuing. “It’s b-been a bit since we did this, I’m not u-used to it.”

Yunho remains quiet as he rubs his thumb over your warm skin in soothing circles for several more seconds. “One more, baby. Then you’ll be done for tonight.” He’s merciful but not entirely gracious because the last sharp slap he delivers to you feels ten times worse than all the others before, and you roll your head to push it into the hood as you cry out at the impact. He catches you as your knees buckle under you, preventing you from sliding straight down to the floor, and as you’re scrambling to regain your footing, he hooks two fingers under your underwear band. When he yanks at the elastic, it snaps against your body hard enough to make you hiss, and it burns a bit when they slide over your sensitive skin.

“Didn’t she do well, Yun?”

You crack an eye open to look over at the man on the couch and make direct eye contact with Jongho to find his gaze far softer than it was minutes ago.

“Of course she did. I expect nothing less from our pretty lady, dear. And—” Yunho pushes two fingers between your folds and dips right into your hole, bypassing all the arousal that’s begun to leak out of you “—she’s sopping wet to boot. Perfect.” The praise makes your body sing, and Yunho rewards your easy obedience by easing his fingers in and out of you with little resistance thanks to that wetness he mentioned. “You still on the pill?”

“Y-Yeah, as always. Haven’t missed a day.”

“Then I can cum in you?”

“Yes… yes sir.”

Yunho groans, and he moves his hand up from the small of your back to feel at the back of your head. He takes a handful of hair into his hold and grips tight enough to pull your head up from the car hood, but it’s not too terrible that you feel any sort of dramatic pain from the act.

“Gonna breed you fuckin’ full of cum then,” he growls, leaning into your space and knocking his forehead against your temple. “Maybe so well that that damn pill won’t work? If I fuck it into you hard enough then your body won’t have a choice but to take my seed.” A loud moan tumbles from your lips at his words. The hand you have propping your weight up wobbles, and just before your elbow locks, Yunho releases you and grabs for your hips with both hands. You’re close to complaining about the sudden departure of his fingers when he nudges the tip of his cock against your folds, sliding along the wetness in a crude form of lubrication.

“Fuck me, won’t you?” you plead quietly. You hope that if nothing else, the look on your face will convince him to get on with things, but it must be a combination of everything — the heady arousal in the air, your tone and words, even the sight of Jongho jacking off to the two of you only a few feet away. Yunho sinks deep into your cunt then; he buries the full length of his cock deep inside you, stretching you open further until it feels like you can feel him in your stomach. Your body trembles and drops forward as you press your free hand to your abdomen like it’ll help you feel him better. “God, you’re so fucking big, Yun.”

“All the better to breed you with,” he says before planting a hand between your shoulder blades and urging you all the way down once more. Jongho is squeezing the base of his cock with his other hand now, likely to keep himself from cumming too early, and Yunho is notorious for two things: his short refractory period and how long he can go without orgasm no matter what kind of stimulation he’s under.

The initial drag of his cock inside you feels like heaven, and when he thrusts back against your thighs, he does so with such force that your insides churn.

“Is she tight?”

“Insanely,” Yunho responds through gritted teeth. You try to lift your head to look back at his face, eager to see how broken his expression is right now, but he stops you in your tracks. Again, fingers threaded through your hair and locking in close to your scalp to give him the best grip that won’t hurt you too terribly much. He yanks you hard with the next thrust, and it brings your head up at an angle that stretches you hard enough to make your muscles burn with the effort of accommodating to it. “Barely been two weeks and you’re this tight again, sugar, your pussy is fuckin’ insane.”

You would laugh at the absurdity of his comment if you could, but in your current state, the only noise that can escape you are choppy moans. They’re the kind that sounds like they could come straight from an amateur porno, and despite the garage being closed, it doesn’t offer that much privacy. Anyone who walks by will suddenly become privy to what sounds like a home movie being filmed behind the metal door.

“Didn’t expect her to be this tight, fuck, I might cum early.”

You can’t warn Yunho of the same for yourself: between his thrusts, the full weight of his balls slap against your pussy from the sheer force behind how hard he’s fucking you, and the steady rhythm is just enough to stimulate your clit even without head-on contact. He knows your body well, however, and how to play you like a fucking fiddle, so when your walls start pulsing around the thickness of his cock, he shifts the angle and drives his tip so deep into you that you see stars behind your eyelids.

“Fuck, sweets,” Jongho exhales under his breath. Your vision is blurry when you open your eyes, but it snaps back to black a moment later when the orgasm hits you all of a sudden.

“Fuck, fuck, f-fuck!”

“That’s it, sugar,” Yunho coos from behind you, and his hand relaxes to run down to the back of your neck. He presses the pads of his fingers into the flesh there, poking and prodding at the muscles that have suddenly gone tense in the tsunami of sensations sweeping over you, but his thrusts don’t let up even as your walls squeeze hard around his length. Yunho fucks you hard and fast through the brunt of your orgasm. When your body finally relaxes and the waves die down to let you swim in the aftermath of it, he’s still driving his dick along your walls and knocking against your more sensitive spots. “Should I breed you now, dear? Fuck you nice and full of cum then send you to sit on Jongho’s cock?”

Your mouth hangs open enough to let saliva out of it and onto the car, yet it smears across your face when you lose the will to steady yourself against Yunho’s pace.

“Pl-please, sir.”

Yunho lays himself over you and spreads his hands to sit on either side of your head. His hips still against your backside. The fuzz in your brain nearly drowns out the feeling of cum pumping into you, without a doubt filling you to the brim. He’s still in the throes of recovery when you nudge Yunho off and out of you. You would stay longer with him inside, to feel that warmth and fullness for some time longer, but your body moves on its own agenda with a pulsing desire lingering in your gut. Despite the weakness in your muscles, you walk over to the couch where Jongho waits patiently and quietly. His gaze is heavy on you when you drop your hands to his shoulders.

“Baby…”

“Don’t stop her now, babe,” Yunho interjects. You don’t spare him a glance over your shoulder or anything like it — the movements of your body are methodical and calculated, a firm straddle over his hips and spread legs before you reach down to put your hand next to his against the length of his cock. Together, you guide him into your used cunt, pushing him in alongside the cum threatening to drip out of your body. A sigh of relief leaves your lips once he’s securely inside you.

“Feel good?” you whisper close to his face. Jongho’s cheeks are flushed, his pupils blown own so wide that you can barely see the color of his irises, and his lips glisten with spit. You can’t help yourself, you decide. He has the same thought in his mind because he’s the one to kiss you rather than the other way around, lips finding each other in a fit of passion that makes your chest burn.

“I want more,” he mutters into your mouth.

“Greedy.” You lift yourself up from his lap some, enough to let his cock nearly pull all the way out of you, then sink back down with a spine-curling pleasure that makes you throw your head back and moan to the ceiling. Yunho’s form enters your line of sight, and his hand finds the base of your throat. He stands behind you, chin tilted to his chest so that he can stare directly down at you. He’s handsome beyond belief even at this awfully skewed and awkward angle.

“Open,” he commands while tapping along the column of your throat. Your lips part completely to allow him access to whatever it is he wants from you.

Jongho’s firm and strong hands squeeze at your waist at the same moment. He takes the control from your hands, and you hand it over without complaint to let him work your cunt along his length as he sees fit and to chase his pleasure in full. Yunho hooks his thumb on the back of your teeth. It effectively holds you open and steady for the moment he decides to spit down into your mouth. The warmth on your tongue makes you wince, but then Yunho is withdrawing his thumb and pushing up against your chin.

“Close and swallow,” he says in what’s likely to be his last act of dominance for the night. Your eyes remain firmly set on his face as you do so — slow yet deliberate so that he can see your obedience in its full glory. Your reward is the sweetest gift. He lays a kiss to your forehead and taps your cheek gently. “Good girl.”

You right yourself enough to look down at Jongho, sending your focus to the lover beneath you. He lets you take his face between your hands without saying a word, but the second you lean in for a kiss, he bites out his thoughts.

“You take dick like a bitch in heat, sweets.”

“Y-You’re the one—” your voice sounds about as wrecked as you feel “—fucking me dumb.” Jongho slides his hands along the lines of your body until he reaches your ass, where the skin is still sensitive and burning from Yunho’s earlier punishment. He palms the flesh harshly enough to make you cry out. “Want you inside too.”

“One wasn’t enough? How much cum do you need?”

“She’s a proper cumslut, really Jongho. You know this.” It’s unfair that Yunho sounds totally recovered and unbothered by the rough sex you just shared; meanwhile, you’re thoroughly wrecked and still going through the motions, working towards another impending orgasm on Jongho’s cock.

“Close?” he asks with a lilting tease hanging off his tone. You push yourself against him as best you can, close enough to knock your forehead into his.

“I bet you’ll cum first, big boy. Your needy dick is begging to breed me.”

Jongho’s nostrils flare at the accusation, but it’s an accurate one with the way his haphazard thrusts are becoming more and more staggered. Nothing inspires Jongho quite like a small competition though, even if it encourages him to play dirty and reach around to your front. He plunges a hand down alongside where his cock meets your body. Your bubbling complaints about his dirty tactics fall short at the mouth of your next orgasm, and he all but steals the air from your lungs with a few little twists of his fingers on your clit. He cums with you immediately after — but after nonetheless, as you’re certain he’ll note later on. Your body sags atop his even as he drives his length into you a few more times for good measure and to milk himself for all he’s worth, adding another load to what Yunho’s already left in you.

Said man makes another appearance too, with bottles of water in hand as he lowers himself to the couch cushions right beside you and Jongho. You take one of the presented bottles with a quiet murmur of thanks, easing up from your slumped position to take several greedy sips in an effort to soothe your poor throat.

“By the way,” Jongho tilts his head in Yunho’s direction. A moment passes that’s full of silent anticipation, and it’s only when Yunho’s brows start to furrow that Jongho finishes his thought. “Her tires are fine.”

The incredulous look you get from Yunho makes the ruse well worth it, and the small flare of anger that crosses his eyes briefly only serves to make you want to tease him further.

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this work belongs to caly / hongism (2023). do not copy, repost, or plagiarize in any way.

#ateez smut #ateez x reader #yunho smut #yunho x reader #jongho smut #jongho x reader #ateez fic #ateez ff #ateez fanfic #ateez imagine #ateez imagines #ateez oneshot #yunho oneshot #jongho oneshot #caly.writes #fic: outlaw series

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pocketjoong · 10 months

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REACTING TO BFF!ATEEZ'S AIRPORT LOOKS | ot8 x reader

GENRE | crack, smau

WARNINGS | some cursing?

NOTES | I think I'm funny (I'm not) but I wanted to do something for ATEEZ's airport look so here we go!

#outlaw/atz smau #ateez x reader #hongjoong x reader #seonghwa x reader #yunho x reader #yeosang x reader #san x reader #mingi x reader #wooyoung x reader #jongho x reader #cromernet #ateez imagines #ateez scenarios #ateez smau #ateez social media au #ateez fake texts #ateez fanfic

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felixs-voice-makes-me-wanna · 8 months

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this person said what i was thinking.

#source is linked #ateez #outlaw #hongjoong #seonghwa #yunho #yeosang #san #mingi #wooyoung #jongho #kim hongjoong #park seonghwa #jeong yunho #kang yeosang #choi san #song mingi #jung wooyoung #choi jongho

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staytinyville · 8 months

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OUTLAW (1)

ATEEZ ot8 x Reader

Cowboy AU/ Wild West (it’s giving Red Dead Redemption)

New Fanfic for ATEEZ boys. I got no clue yet if it’s gonna be mature quite possibly but we get there when we get there. For now, I’ll be giving warning here if there is a chance of those things. Please enjoy!

You worked in your family's Inn, attending to the patrons who came and went. The Illusion Inn was built by your grandfather when he had left his hometown in search of work. This was back when the town was barely putting in the cobblestone roads and better infrastructures. When the revolution started hitting closer, the Inn was the first one to house all the workers who were coming to better the city.

Now though, it wasn’t often that people would stay longer than a day or two, they were only traders moving along to sell their things. You had the select few who had some jobs to do in the area and stayed for longer, but most often than not the hotel always had at least one room open.

It made working there a lot easier for you seeing as you had three other siblings ranging in age from 20 to 6. The eldest were all placed to work around in some capacity which made the load that much easier to handle. Since being the oldest you were told to manage the front desk as well as the bar while your father was busy handing out drinks to the men who were often seen coming in just for alcohol.

Being a waitress for the saloon part of the hotel meant you got to meet people of all kinds of class. As well as stories from different parts of the country. Each patron came in with outlandish stories about their journey by horse to Cromer or the gangs they met along the way.

It was the time in history where so many people found it easier to steal and kill for things rather than do work themselves. Everyone was struggling to some extent. No one was safe from poverty when it came to building a society that was barely starting.

“I think the outlaw is moving this way,” Some man spoke to your father behind the bar counter. “I heard he shot up a bar in Sharpstown. You better be careful with your family.”

Your father met your eyes as you placed a tray full of empty glasses on the bar. You carried on with your work though, moving to clean the cups you had just cleaned up.

It was hard to miss the large wanted poster that was plastered nearly on every building in town. The bold Dead or Alive really caught everyone's attention. While it wasn’t uncommon to find a wanted poster of someone, it was rare to have the government want them dead or alive. You must have done something extreme to reach that point.

“Don’t worry about me, John.” Your father told the man politely. “I’ve seen plenty of outlaws come and go here. You just have to know what to serve them.”

You pursed your lips to keep from giggling at your father. You moved around him to get some empty bottles of liquor before going back to pick up more dirty dishes. It was a rather tame day due to being the middle of the week, so the saloon of the Inn wasn’t really packed. It was easy to forget about the outlaw and his travels.

It was around the time the saloon closed for the night and your younger siblings had all gone to bed that things seemed to change within the air. Your mother was moving things around inside preparing to lock the door for the night, when the sound of horses caught both of your attention.

You saw your mother pause at the door, moving the stopper to hold it open herself. She spoke some words to someone outside before moving to allow them room to enter. You were quick to put the cash from the day into a box, locking it to keep the two men from seeing just how much you actually had.

There were two of them, their styled boots hitting the wood flooring with a loud stomp. When they had walked through the threshold, they immediately glanced around the area, assessing the place.

You weren’t one to shy away from your opinion on people. As a child you would oftentimes get in trouble because you would openly make faces at people. As you grew older and started working with the patrons of the inn you learned how to be more subtle about it. So while these men assessed the inn you took the moment to assess them.

The tallest one walked ahead of the other, seemingly messing with the bands around his wrists. He only took a glance around the lobby before heading in your direction with purpose. He had a slim face with high cheekbones. The clothes he wore were meant to withstand the weather. He was decked out in leather and cowboy boots.

The other however walked with his shoulders squared, eyes moving about in search of something he might not like. Unlike the tall man, this one had a more stern expression on his face, he looked mature. He wore just about the same clothing as the other, however his pants seemed to stretch over thighs a bit tighter.

It was especially hard to miss the police badges on their chest as you eyed them up. When they reached you, you had to look up as the man spoke to you first.

“We would like a room.” He told you.

The Inn was technically closed for the night so you couldn’t give them a room until the morning. You glanced at your mother first, the woman giving you a nod.

“Just one?” You asked, glancing behind him to his partner.

“Just one. With two beds if possible.” He didn’t dare to move his eyes from you as you stared him down.

He didn’t speak more on the subject, but you knew he was coming up with conclusions on his own about the place he had just entered. It left a bubbling feeling in the pit of your stomach to think this person would assume you or your family would bring harm to anyone. Maybe you would if threatened.

“(Y/N).” Your mother cleared her throat. “Please give these kind officers the room in the back.”

“Of course.” You told her, moving along to get the key you needed.

“Follow me.” You told them, not waiting to see if they had listened. You could hear their boots clicking on the floor so you knew they had.

The room was on the first floor towards the back of the Inn. With the building stationed on closer to the outer limits of the town, the view from the windows was of the meadows and neighborhoods. Your grandfather had chosen the area to make it easier for travelers who came by horse or foot to find rest faster. Your home wasn’t that far, which meant oftentimes you all would walk back for a rest.

“I am the attendant for the night.” You told them in a rehearsed voice. “Should you need anything, I will be in the front.”

With that you immediately left the room and back towards the front with a shiver going down your spine. They weren’t dangerous men from what you could feel, but they still left you with an uneasy feeling.

“I’m going to head home now.” Your mother told you. “Be careful. You know where the gun is.”

It wasn’t the first time it was your turn to take over the night shift. When your parents deemed you old enough to attend to the hotel alone, they took rest and shifted the load. There were other employees as well but they still put you down as someone to watch over the inn. Besides, compared to others they trusted you a bit more.

It was midnight when you had finished going over the inventory and had decided to go to sleep in the backroom for the night shift worker. Before taking a nap though, you made your rounds around the inn to make sure there was nothing out of the ordinary.

As you passed the two police officers bedroom, there was some shuffling heard but not enough to cause suspicion. Maybe they had still been awake. You shrugged your shoulders and moved along to take your rest.

That was short lived when around 3 in the morning there was a lot of noise going on outside of the window. There was a good amount of cursing and arguments of trying to keep others quiet as whoever the group was seemed to move along the hotel's side.

You kept the light off, hoping the street lamps would illuminate the aggressors. All you could make out were silhouettes cluttered at the end of the hotel. You tried to quietly open the window to peak your head out to get a better view.

The building stretched for a good amount so the group hadn’t caught sight of you peeking in at them. You quickly glared when you noticed them huddled at the window that was meant for the last bedroom of the floor. It was the room where the officers were staying.

With outlaws in mind, you were quick to put on your boots and a cardigan to cover up your pajamas. You rushed to the front lobby, doing a double take on the rifle leaning against the wall by the door. You made haste to grab it before rushing out of the lobby and into the foggy night.

When you turned the corner, you raised the gun aiming it towards whoever you could. Before you could shoot to alert others, the last person seemed to have made their way into the window ungracefully. You cursed to yourself quickly rushing to see where they had entered.

“Hey!” You screamed, rushing forward with the gun aimed right into the bedroom. Your eyes went wide as the barrel pushed into the stomach of the tall officer from earlier in the day.

His arms were stretched above his head as he was about to shut the window. His eyes went wide as well when he realized someone was looking into the room. He moved to the side in a panic, eyes searching for his leader on what to do.

As he moved out of the way, you noticed there were more men in the room than you cared to admit. You were more worried about how they all fit into the small space if anything. While your eyes scanned over all of them, you counted 6 new people in total. However the ones that seemed to stop you from scolding them were the two who seemed to be bleeding profusely.

There was one on a bed, more than likely staining the sheets that made you internally cringe at having to buy new ones. Another was holding onto his shoulder as he seemed to sit across from the one sprawled out on the mattress.

Just as your wide eyes swept back over the other men, your eyes caught the blue haired man who was looking at you with squinted eyes.

“Grab her.”

Series Masterlist

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jiminieshii · 11 months

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GUYS. WRITERS. ATINY. PLEASE.

Please use this new album and new MV as inspiration for some fanfiction, oneshots and smut. I'm begging, it's all so good and my mind went brrrrrr but I cannot write to save my life.

Mingi. Mingi's eyes. Hongjoong. Bouncy. SAN!!!! WOOSAN!!!! Their dance. ALL OF ATEEZ. I'm going feral.

GUYS. BOUNCY.

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hwaightme · 1 year

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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.

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applejongho · 1 year

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ATEEZ ─ OPERATION : DJANGO

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atzupdates · 7 months

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[231024] Inkigayo 🎉𝟱 𝗬𝗘𝗔𝗥𝗦 𝗪𝗜𝗧𝗛 𝗔𝗧𝗘𝗘𝗭🎉 Unreleased Photos

#wooyoung #jongho #ateez #m: wooyoung #m: jongho #type: photo #content: inkigayo #type: pd note #type: anniversary #era: the world ep 2 : outlaw

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miinsang · 1 year

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ATEEZ(에이티즈) THE WORLD EP.2: OUTLAW; tracklist moving posters

#ateez #hongjoong #seonghwa #yunho #yeosang #san #mingi #wooyoung #jongho #lunanuggets #buzzgifs #ateezedit #i was going to put this in order i swear #but the titles in the corner looked weird so i had to move them back and forth and tada!#outlaw is my fav whew!

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starlitmark · 11 months

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Summary: The morning of the takeover, you and Jongho need to find some fun in all the madness. Pairing: Jongho x fem!reader Genre: smut, fluff, very little angst Tropes: established relationship au, anarchy au(?) Rating: R 18+ Warnings: mentions of anarchy, reader has codename Raven, worrying, pet names, mentions of violence, mentions of implied death, mentions of hacking Smut Warnings: unprotected sex, exhibitionism, teasing, kissing, clothed sex, strength kink, dirty talk, marking, creampie Word Count: 2,907 Note: for the Outlaw Collab hosted by @cultofdionysusnet Note 2: huge huge thank you to @mejuii for beta reading this <3

You felt like you were practically vibrating in your skin. Tonight is the night the outlaws plan to overthrow the academy. Being a part of the whole operation was risky already, but the position you play in the job causes even more risks to come about. Not only are you, Raven of the cyber intelligence team, but you’re also undercover as one of the staff members in the academy. If you were to ever get caught, who knows what would happen to you?

Currently, you’re in your office grading ‘your’ students’ work. You’re not at all focused on the papers in front of you. The subject isn’t interesting in the slightest. Your mind is anywhere but on grading right now. With a frustrated groan, you throw your pen off to the side and push the stack of papers to the corner of your desk. There are no cameras in your office; the higher powers of the academy trust you to be loyal to them. You often use this incorrect trust to your advantage. Still, you’d rather be safe than sorry. You peek out the window of your office door to check for anyone else around. When you see no one, you still opt to pull the blinds down on the off chance an officer is still patrolling the halls at this hour of the morning.

You pull your laptop out from a locked drawer and place it in front of you. You dig through files upon files of information you’ve dug up on this place, the staff, anything you can really. The thought of contacting Syberhawk crosses your mind. You know it’s very likely that she’s likely spending the last few hours of peace locked away with Seonghwa while she can. You can’t even blame her. You’d love to be doing the same with Jongho, but one, you have no idea where he is at the moment. And two, you have a horrible knot in your stomach that you missed something. You could very likely lead Seonghwa into a suicide mission if you don’t give him all of the information properly.

The door to your office pops open quietly. You do the first thing that comes to mind and slam the lid of your laptop down. When you see the bill of a security officer’s hat, you don’t know whether to panic more or not. Then when the man steps in fully, he shuts the door softly.

“It’s just me, little bird.” your boyfriend’s voice fills your ears.

You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding, “Thank god. I thought I was about to get caught.”

He rounds the desk and leans down to place a kiss against the top of your head. He takes off the cap and runs his fingers through his hair as he places the hat on the stack of papers. Slowly, you open your laptop again and start scanning through everything. You can feel Jongho’s eyes on you. You’re choosing to ignore them right now. Jongho squeezes your shoulder lightly, making you turn to look up at him standing beside you.

“You’re overthinking it all, and I know it.”

“Can you just double-check these classified documents I found? I’m so scared I missed something…”

Your boyfriend leans down, leaning against his hand on the desk, “Did you talk to Syberhawk about everything?”

“No, but I’ll send it her way still so she can check it too. She’s probably asleep or busy right now, but the thought is there.”

Jongho chuckles with a light smirk on his lips, “Yeah, probably. No one’s as crazy as you to stay awake preparing for the biggest mission of all time.”

“Shut up,” you tease back, “You don’t see anything I missed, right?” he shakes his head, “Okay, so, where are you coming from?”

“Nightowl’s customs shop.” he states.

It’s been a few days since you’ve seen Nightowl. She’s been hauling ass to get everything ready for tonight. In reality, though, you don’t see her often as it is. She’s in her shop while you’re stuck here posed as a teacher. You do know that Yunho has been hanging out there more often, which piques your interest.

“Was Yunho there this time?”

“Why are you asking about him specifically?” your boyfriend questions.

“Jealous?” you tease.

“No,” he chuckles back, “Just curious, my little bird.”

“The two of them have a weird tension between them.” “Well, it got fucking weirder. When I left, the energy in the shop was all kinds of all over the place.”

You nod and look back at your screen. Jongho isn’t letting you get lost in your mind again as you stare at the device in front of you. He holds your chin between his thumb and first finger and turns your head back toward him. The rush of love and something else shoots through you as you look at him. He’s still leaning against your desk as he holds your chin. The sight of that alone makes you want to melt in his hands. Then, you add the uniform on top of that, and you’re done for. An absolute mess for your boyfriend.

“Something else is on your mind. You can’t hide those things from me. As good of an actress as you are, you can’t hide things from me.” he reminds you with a light giggle.

“I’m worried.” you sigh.

“About tonight?”

You nod, “I’ll be at the safehouse with the rest of the technology and cyber intelligence team and…”

“And I’ll be out in the field.” he finishes your sentence for you, “Little bird, this isn’t any different from any other mission. You’re always in our earpieces, and I’m always out in the field with the others.”

“This is different though, Jongho…” you sigh again.

“How so?”

His eyes drip with sincerity and care for you. Your eyes flit across his face as you try to formulate your words mentally. His hand moves to hold your cheek, thumb gently caressing your cheekbone.

“It’s just… this one is so much more dangerous than the others.”

“Yeah,” he chuckles again, “and the one where I nearly blew my leg up wasn’t.”

“You know what I mean. There’s so much more on the line this time.”

“I do. I know you’re worried, but we’re always beyond careful with everything. You and Syberhawk are at the safe house, keeping an eye on everything from a safe distance. I’d much rather you be at the safehouse and away from the physical danger than with me and in immediate physical danger.”

“You know damn well I could run circles around you.” you tease, “I joined this resistance before you and got a whole lot more training because of that.”

“Watch it, pretty. Remember which one of us sits in front of a computer almost all day and which of us is doing hand-to-hand combat.”

You giggle lightly, “That’s fine by me.”

“Seriously though, if you’re still worried about me being in direct danger, you know Sparrow is the person to talk to. She’s letting Joong go out there too. I’m sure Syberhawk is worried sick, too. Hwa is putting everything on the line for this. He’s the bait… talk to them about it all if you really need it.” he speaks softly.

You nod and let out a shaky sigh, “You ready to go tell Seonghwa what we know?”

“Now?”

“Now. If we don’t go now, we won’t go at all.”

You lock your computer and put it in your bag before pushing your chair out. The moment you stand up, you feel Jongho’s arm wrap around your waist. He pulls you to his chest and kisses you until you’re breathless. Normally, especially here, Jongho isn’t one for physical intimacy. You practically melt into the kiss. Wrapping your arms around his neck, you start to deepen the kiss. Just as you’re about to progress things further, Jongho pulls back and smirks at you.

“We best be off then.”

“Asshole.” you huff.

“As you said, if we don’t go now, we won’t go at all. Come on, let’s get walking.” he states, jerking his head toward the door.

“Walking?”

“Do you want them to hear the bike? It’s not a long walk to the meeting point with Hwa.”

You look down at your outfit, “you expect me to walk in the stiff, formal outfit? I’m wearing fucking heels, Jongho.” you whine.

Jongho tosses a bag at you. Luckily, you catch it, “I know you too well. Once we’re out of the building, get changed, I’ll cover you, okay?”

“Where did you even hide this bag? I didn’t see you holding one when you came in.”

“Behind your plant over here, little bird. I left it there after you whined about having to walk in your undercover outfit last time.”

You navigate your way through the halls. You’re both still wearing the uniforms that disguise you as staff of the academy, making things much easier to slip under the radar. There aren’t many people in the halls at this hour of the morning. The two people you do cross paths with simply assume that Jongho is another security guard that’s walking you (presumed to be a teacher) somewhere. You exit the building via a door in one of the few blind spots this massive campus has. Luckily, the other side of the doorway happens to be a blind spot. Instantly you throw the bag of clothing at your boyfriend. You hastily start unbuttoning the uncomfortable blouse the uniform requires.

“Damn, couldn’t wait another minute?” Jongho teases.

“Shut up and help me get this shit off. I can’t stand it.” you sigh.

You see something shift in your boyfriend’s eyes, but he still reaches into the bag and pulls out the tight-fitting black tank top inside. His eyes wander across your nearly bare top half, trying hard not to fuck you stupid right then and there. It’s been a while since you and your boyfriend got to be intimate with each other. With the hecticness of planning everything that’s about to come to a head tonight, along with keeping your covers, neither of you can remember the last time you got more than a small peck.

You’re slipping off the knee-length pencil skirt with one hand outstretched to get too ripped black jeans from Jongho. When you look at him, you see the dark swirls of lust stronger in his gaze. You smirk before standing upright and holding eye contact with him.

“Don’t get any ideas there.” you chuckle, “Hwa’s probably been waiting for us forever.”

Jongho steps closer and cups your cheek in his hand. The other rests against your bare hip, holding you in place. You feel the cool bricks of the building against the back of your legs and through the fabric of your underwear. Your heart is pounding out of your chest in the best way possible.

“Forever can spare a few more minutes. Don’t you think, little bird?” he nearly whispers.

“I- I think it can.” you match his tone.

He doesn’t waste another moment. His lips are on yours. The feeling of his plush lips on yours sends a rush of arousal through your body. The cool sting of the breeze cuts through you, but it only serves to make you more desperate to have Jongho surrounding every fiber of your being. His kisses trail down your throat, leaving small red marks on your skin in his wake. Your fingers fiddle with the button of his tactile pants for a few moments before popping it open. Jongho chuckles against your lips slightly before letting his other hand grip your hip tighter.

“Forever may have a few more minutes, but we better hurry along before that person who’s been waiting forever starts to worry.”

“Seonghwa is such a mother hen. He’ll be fine. Now, are you ready for me, or should I prep you a bit?”

“If you don’t get inside me in the next minute, you’ll be sleeping in the lounge for a week.”

“That sounds like an empty threat, little bird.” he singsongs.

Despite the teasing banter, he allows you to unzip his pants fully and bury your hand inside, wrapping your hand around his hard cock. His hand that was previously holding your face slides down to grab your thigh, squeezing the plush skin in his hand. You push the material of his pants and briefs down just enough to release his member from its constraints. Jongho hikes your thigh up on his hip before his other hand hooks around your panties to pull them aside.

You feel the blunt head of his cock pressing against your dripping entrance. It takes everything in you not to beg him to put it inside you already. The last thing you need is to be caught in this extremely compromising situation. As he pushes into you inch by inch, you busy yourself with kissing along his throat, nipping at the skin in hopes that would stop you from moaning too loudly. Soon enough, he bottoms out inside you and lets out a small groan of appreciation.

“Fuck, it’s been too long since I’ve been buried in this soaking cunt.” he muses, “Can’t wait for this fucking mission to be done so I can stay inside you all the time.”

“Jongho, please,” you pant, “Fuck me properly.”

He recaptures your lips as he repositions his stance. At first, you’re so lost in the kiss to process anything besides the slow thrusts into you. Then you process his hand that had remained on your hip and move to hold your other thigh before lifting you off the ground entirely. Jongho begins thrusting into you as if it’s the last time he’ll ever get to fuck you. The sudden shift in his thrust nearly knocks the air out of you. The harsh texture of the bricks against your skin is bound to leave marks, but you couldn’t care less about that. You toss your head back against the cold stone and let a broken moan escape your lips.

“Shh, we can’t get caught, baby.” he teases, though a groan escapes his lips moments after he speaks, “I’m not gonna last long, little bird. It’s been too long since I’ve gotten to be inside you.”

“Jongho, please, fuck me hard. Need you to cum inside me so badly.”

“You’re getting off on me holding you against this wall, aren’t you?”

“You’re so strong, and you’re holding me up like I weigh nothing. It’s so fucking hot.” you whine.

Somehow his already bruising pace grows harsher, and you feel your ass hitting against the now-warm bricks behind you with each thrust. You bury your face in your boyfriend’s shoulder, hoping to hide the squeaky broken moans you let out. Jongho lets an endless stream of filthy pretty words escape his lips as his pace begins to grow erratic. You feel the tightly wound chord of your orgasm snap, and your walls flutter around him as you ride out your high. The way you squeeze him triggers his own orgasm, and his cum floods your walls. His thrusts start to slow before he stops fully. He stays inside you as you both catch your breath. Gently, Jongho lowers your legs back to the ground and doesn’t let go of you until you’re fully stable on your legs again. You tug your panties back into place, not caring about the fact that you have Jongho’s cum dripping out of you onto the fabric.

“You don’t want to clean up?” your boyfriend questions.

“What could I possibly clean up with?” you ask with a slight chuckle.

“Your ‘uniform’, maybe?” “I will not be getting cum stains on that thing.” you say with a playfully disgusted tone.

“It was an offer.” he laughs back.

Jongho tucks himself back into the uniform pants and hands you the jeans you were meant to put on to start with. You scoff and start slipping on the dark clothing. You struggle for a few moments as you fight to get your chunky boots on your feet while standing. The action causes your boyfriend to chuckle at you again and give you an adoring smile. He takes it upon himself to put the academy uniform into the back that previously held your personal clothing.

“How obvious is it that we just fucked?” you question as you toss your hair back into a ponytail.

“Well, judging by your neck alone… very.”

“Jongho! You-” you stop yourself, “You’re actually not much better.”

“So we’re about to go see one of our closest friends while it’s painfully obvious that we just fucked.”

“Well… we really don’t have a choice. The sun is rising. Let’s get to Seonghwa before he really panics, or we get caught on academy grounds while I clearly look like an outsider.” you huff.

Jongho pecks your cheek lightly and entangles your fingers with his, “We better get going, for real this time.”

You smile at him and start running toward the gate that leads to the outside world. You’re absolutely terrified about tonight, but you just have to trust that all the pieces of the puzzle are in place. You trust your boyfriend and the group you’re both a part of. Now all you can do is tell Seonghwa what you know and give him the best advice you can with the said information.

Networks: @cultofdionysusnet @k-vanity @kwritersworld

Tag List: @sanjoongie @jaehunnyy @ericssmile @anyamaris

#Operation Outlaw: Before the Boom #jongho smut #cultofdionysusnet #kwritersworldnet #kvanity #ateez fanfic #ateez x reader #ateez smut #jongho fanfic #jongho x reader

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starillusion13 · 23 days

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hii there!! hope you doing well >_<!!

can i request for poly mafia ateez x reader fic? their boss are dead for 2 years and they just found out that he has a daughter. and they began to search for her n when they found her, they swear to her that they will take care of her, but ended up falling in love with her?

thank you so much!!! ;)))

To keep you safe

Pairing: Mafia!ot8! Ateez x f!reader

W.C: 3.3k

Genre: Fluff, Mafia, Romance

Warnings: mention of mafia deals, attempt to murder, blast, tracking device, spying on someone, tying up with rope in warehouse, unconcious, poison, feeling sorry, sad, comfort from mafias, lots of kissing, getting shot, mention of blood(not detail), confession, hidden daughter, scared idk what to add anymore

Network: @kvanity-main

A girl running in the rain, clutching her purse to her chest and heavily breathing while frantically looking in every direction. Her scared pupils and parted lips allowed the heavy and forced inhale and exhale of air, raindrops sliding into her mouth. Her heels were almost making her lose her balance, she didn't want to fall down or she would get caught.

The rainfall intensified with loud growling sounds of lightning. The only thing that was going through her mind was to run away from the two men following her. She took a sharp turn around the road and hid behind the car.

Pressing her palms over the mouth and wide eyes stared at the distant road ahead. Her house was still a few blocks away and the feeling of dizziness returned but she scooted into the darkness and suppressed her fear and the sound of her panting.

Soon, within a few minutes, the footsteps came into her vision. Two silhouettes making their way towards the alleyway and in fact, that needs to cross the car which was hiding her scared form. A series of hope and prayers rushed to her mind and fell from the lips and mentally supported herself to stay stronger.

The scared pupils followed each step they took. The moment they stopped and looked at her direction, her breath hitched and cursed under the breath when she noticed them coming towards her exact direction. But before she could shift an inch, someone pressed their palms over her ears from behind and then she could hear the sound of two faint gunshots.

"It's okay, y/n. you are safe."

The soft voice from behind you and the stranger's hands touching your skin made your eyes shoot open and you shuffled forward, keeping your distance from the person. The first instinct in you worked was to look over to the place where two men from earlier were but to your surprise, there was no one. You stood up from your place and quickly stepped out of the darkness and you screamed.

Two bodies were lying on the road. The two men who were following you while you were returning from the café were lying on their own blood pool.

"Hey, calm down."

The same voice again spoke up and you quickly looked behind to see a boy, maybe around your age, was standing with a little smile but to the contrast of his facial look, his outfit was different, oh the gun holder strap on his waist and the belt designed over his black jacket. He looked scary with an angel face.

"Who are you? Are you going to kill me? and and how do you know my name?"

He nodded to himself before taking a few steps forward but before he could walk any farther, you yelled at him to stop and the way you were scared, he instantly stopped. There were few other footsteps coming from both of your sides. One, two...three...seven figures appeared under the streetlight. The rain was still pouring but it was less intense than before as if it had also got scared by these men.

"Who are you all? What is going on?"

The boy who was standing a few feet away from you smiled again and introduced himself, "myself Yeosang. We are just here to take you back home."

"home? I don't understand what you are saying." You were pleading with him not to hurt you and a different boy from the seven figures surrounding you but keeping a safe distance from you spoke up, "there's nothing to be scared of, y/n. you are Mr. Lee's daughter and we are here to take you to his place."

They know my dad...they are here to kidnap me to know about my dad's business but......he is dead and I can't ask for help from him. I don't know anything about his mafia business.

"I don't know. I am not close to my dad. He is dead. What else do you all want now? I know nothing about him. Please, I am telling you the truth. You won't get to know anything from me about him. I really don't know."

"We know he is dead. That's why we are here to ensure your safety. We are here because your dad isn't there to protect you." The tallest one of them spoke up.

You shook your head and stepped back when the dizziness from earlier returned. It did get noticed by the oldest one of them and he caught your limp body, "y/n, it's raining. Let's go home and then we can discuss everything."

You pushed him from you and stood straight on your heels, "no, I'm not going anywhere. I can't trust you. You all are lying."

"Didn't your dad tell you about the leaders of his organization?"

" he did..."

"We are the leaders of the organization, the most trusted gang of your father, Ateez."

You stared at them because the name is familiar but why to take you to somewhere you never went before. Your life was always at risk and that's why your dad kept you hidden but maybe his death led to uncovering your identity to other mafia gangs. But if they are the leaders under your father's organization, that does mean they are on your father's side.

"you all are my dad's men?" you asked in a low voice. The drizzling rain was pinching your skin, should you trust them or not. The thought was itching your mind.

"We might be mafias but we are always loyal to our boss. Please come with us." The leader extended his hand with a smile.

And you trusted them.

Taking the leader's hand and grabbing it with a hope to be safe.

You never thought ever that this was going to change your trajectory of your whole life.

“We are here to keep you safe.”

>>>><<<<

In the bustling city, amidst the towering skyscrapers and bustling streets, there existed a huge, tightly-knit advertising agency called "THE GUERRILAS". For two years, the agency had been led by a charismatic and respected boss, Mr. Lee Sohyun. His sudden demise due to a heart attack had left his men and the successive leaders reeling with shock and grief. Among them, Ateez, his loyal gang and the main future successors took the initiative to take over his place with announcing their gang leader as the new boss, who all had worked closely with him for over a decade. Every other being in the company supported the idea and welcomed the new project of the company.

As the agency mourned their loss, Ateez stumbled upon a startling revelation buried within Mr. Lee's personal documents – he had a daughter, Lee y/n, from a previous relationship. Despite his private nature, he had never mentioned the daughter to anyone at the agency. Determined to honor their late boss's memory and fulfill his unspoken wishes, Ateez embarked on a mission to find his daughter.

“I didn’t know he had a daughter.” Seonghwa stated while looking at the documents presented by his gang member, Yeosang.

The leader, Hongjoong nodded, “He really hid her well but after his death. Many men betrayed him and leaked his personal information and the least we can do is to start with protecting his daughter.”

“Then let’s find Y/n. I hope we can bring her safely.”

Months of diligent investigation led them to a quaint town in the upstate, where you resided.

Their several initial attempts were failed missions.they certainly didn’t want to scare you but also not to give up in their enemy’s hand. So, they planned to approach you slowly and cautiously.

Unless that day when you were followed by members of an enemy gang and they saved you from danger.

And that day you accepted a new fate in your life.

Moved by Ateez's sincerity and touched by their efforts to connect with you, a wave of emotions hit your heart. Over cups of tea, you delved into heartfelt conversations with them, sharing memories and anecdotes about your father. Despite their vastly different backgrounds, you found solace in their company, united by the love for the man who had brought them together.

you listened intently to their explanation of the situation after your father's death, your emotions oscillating between disbelief and curiosity. As they shared anecdotes about your father's life and their time together at the agency, a bittersweet realization dawned on you – finally found a piece of your father's past that had long eluded.

"You don't have to be polite or formal with us. Think of us as your friends. You are our boss's daughter." The young boy smiled at you.

You chuckled, "Wooyoung, I'm trying. I think it would take time but this new place and new people and even staying with you all is such a new experience for me."

"You can come to me anytime. I am always here to accompany you and make you feel at home."he said and brushed his hair back. He glanced at you, who was smiling admiring the beauty of the garden. "Do you want to take your father's position?"

The question caught your attention and quickly turned towards him, you noticed him avoiding your gaze and gulping, "No." The answer was direct and simple.

He again questioned you, "why? Don't you think you are the actual successor of the boss?"

"I don't know a single shit about this life and also, I trust Hongjoong. You all proved your loyalty to my dad. You swear my protection and extend his hard work. So, you all are the actual successors." He nodded at your words.

"No cursing from a pretty girl." Yunho approached you two and handed over a sweater to you. You looked at him with a questionable look.

He held the sweater in front of you and urged you to put your hand inside the sleeves, "don't catch cold in the early morning while wearing just a full sleeve shirt. And Woo, can't you wear a full sleeve?"

The said man rolled his eyes at the tall one and sat on the bench with crossed legs, "I will be off to gym in half an hour. No need."

Yunho placed his hand on your shoulder, "would you mind a little walk with me?"

"Of course not. I would love to explore the neighborhood."

Days turned into weeks, weeks into months and you found yourself drawn to their warmth and resilience. You admired their strength in the face of adversity and their unwavering determination to carve out their own path in life and also protect you in the process.

In your presence, they discovered a sense of belonging they had never experienced before.

As their bond deepened with you, they grappled with conflicting emotions they never thought possible. They had sworn to themselves that they would take care of you, but their feelings for you were evolving into something more profound and complicated. Torn between their loyalty to the late boss and their burgeoning love for you, they found themselves at a crossroads.

"Surprise!"

The boys in the living room turned towards the voice. You were exiting the grand space of the kitchen area with a huge cake in your hold. Carefully, placing it on the table in front of them, you placed your hand on your hips and waited for their remarks.

The leader was the first person to tune in with the surprise, "what's a cake for?"

"You all did well on your last mission and for the past few days, all of you were busy so I decided to bake a cake for you all today as I noticed none of you left the house. No work?" You expectantly looked at them.

They exchanged a few glances between them and before Wooyoung could say something, Seonghwa smiled and got up from the chair. The royalty of the grand hall of the mansion was sitting right with his rich mafia look even in just a plain black shirt and pants. He approached you and patted your head, "we don't have work today. Do you have something to say? Or to do something?"

You nodded and turned towards the rest of them, "have a taste of my most ordered cake. Before moving in with you all, I used to work at the cafe in my previous place. And people requested this cake everyday."

"Really? Then we should taste it. We are getting the privilege to have a demanding item without showing our powers." The leader said between his endearment of tasting your cake. You cut them a few pieces and waited for their reviews.

They hummed in the delicious taste of the soft cake and you got a collective of compliments.

Yunho was the first person to ask for another piece, you happily cut him one. He watched your happiness. The way you reacted to each of their compliments, the nervousness and feelings shy but still managing to keep yourself steady.

Yeosang proposed the idea that they should open a cafe near their place where you can train some workers and also be able to have some time to spend in a different atmosphere other than staying at the mansion. Jongho supported the idea.

Mingi raised the topic of your safety but San volunteered to check on you often and won't let anything happen to you.

>>>><<<<

The idea did come to light and led to action. You got work to keep yourself busy when they are not around but this definitely lured a danger.

Someone kept a watch on you. The strange feeling was creeping in your skin but you neglected it with the thought that San might be somewhere out of sight and spying on the place for a possible danger.

Once when you went to the mall with Mingi and Jongho, you got bumped into a person and got a scratch on your arm with a sharp object.

"Are you okay, y/n?" Mingi's concerned voice appeared and held your arm. "Why is it bleeding? What happened?"

"Might have scratched something. Don't worry, it will heal soon."

Well your assurance was not enough for him. The way he handled you around the mall, asking you whether you're uncomfortable or wanted something. You wanted a chill hangout not both of them to worry about you.

But the beautiful time you all were having got disturbed when you suddenly fell unconscious. They both were shocked but reacted quickly to take you to the medical wing of their base.

You were poisoned by that scratch. But it couldn't affect much and spread properly. You were under threat and needed more protection and they made sure of it.

"San, people are assuming you as my boyfriend at this point." You groaned after pushing open the door to your cafe. He rolled his eyes behind you and glared when he noticed a young boy staring at you both entering together.

He pulled a chair and sat near the counter where you were placing the things to start the day. "I don't care about their opinions. Your safety comes first. And-"

"Hey! I guess, I'm invited inside the cafe too." Jongho entered the cafe and winked at the man sitting. You nodded, "of course you are."

He didn't have any schedule for the day so opted for hanging out in the cafe. You turned towards San and asked for him to complete what he was saying but he shook his head.

The days went normal, nothing to worry about. Everything was going as usual.

"You three are also leaving?" You pout and lean back to the table. They chuckled at your reaction and Seonghwa approached you, patting your head with an adorable smile, "we will be back soon. And Yeosang will be here to accompany you."

"Can't you stay together every time? Or like take me with you all."

"No!" The leader put aside the black leather jacket and held your shoulder, "we are not risking your life. There's always danger. We won't be able to control ourselves if something happens to you."

"Oh...but I feel scared for you all too. Just take care of yourselves. I am not strong enough to protect you all but......atleast I can pray for you." You felt so useless and a burden on them but Yunho quickly chimed into the conversation.

"Don't think of yourself lowl. You are our strength. We come back home and do our best and succeed in our missions with the hope that a beautiful soul and a precious girl is waiting for us. Your trust in us is everything we need to be strong out there."

Yunho is always the one to ensure that you are valuable and worth the effort they make to protect you. His warm embraces really make you believe that,

You are in love. You are at home.

The leader is always impressed by his words and also reminds you that their biggest possession is you.

"No other expensive material in the household or in the universe can be worth your value." Hongjoong and his exaggerated explanations.

Seonghwa is the one who would treat you like a porcelain doll, as if you are his daughter. Well let's not be weird with this thought. He is someone to ensure your wellbeing now and then.

"You are safe with us princess. No one can hurt you ever."

To his addition, San will buy you everything possible just in case you are not happy with something. Once when a worker pointed out you as a spoiled girlfriend and called you ‘gold digger’, he took matters in hand.

Grabbing his collar and glaring at him as if he could burn him alive and bury him there, "of course you don't have the courage or power to spoil her. But your dirty mouth can spoil her ears. And I don't like when some bugs are near her."

This is not the end, Jongho is not the one to show his emotions often but you have always liked his goofy nature with you but the majority of the time when you go out with him, he is the most mature and serious one as if he is doubting every individual glancing at you.

"I think he is spying on us." He murmured.

"You are looking around the restaurant in a way as if you want to order the rest of the items on the menu card. That's why he is staring at us." You started and went back to eating.

Mingi is the one who is always volunteering to go out with you because according to him, he fights well. So if someone attacks then he could fight back and take you back home safely. He is sometimes a bit controlling like Yunho but rest, you love his company.

"No, we are going back home. No more talking back. I'm your protector and the mafia member so you have to listen to me now."

The most important one to mention, Wooyoung. His professional side and the side with you are just opposites. Well this settles with all of them.

He encourages you to try new stuff, teaches you some self defense and also the one to try out pranks on others. You always grew up alone and wanted someone like him to be your friend and once you shared this feeling with him. You are now beautifully cursed with his presence.

"Do you want to know how to shoot?"

"No no please, that is the most intriguing thing to me but I'm okay with not knowing it's working."

He rolled his eyes, "don't be dramatic. It will help you."

"You all are here for me and... ...I..I love- I love how you are mafia members but have individual personalities that protects me and keeps me safe. Moreover, you all make me feel loved by a family."

"We are your family."

They all say this everyday. And today is not an exception.

Yeosang was on his laptop. You wanted to go out but he was too busy to even notice that. Not to make him mad, you scolded yourself for thinking to go out behind his back.

"Is it okay if I have a quick trip to the convenience store?......please."

He looked up from the screen, "what do you need, let me bring it for you."

"No. I just want to go out because others haven't been at home for the last three days and as you are alone I'm not allowed out of this house."

Yeosang always stays back or tries to be the member to protect you while all others are needed on a particular situation or missions.

He chuckled and got up, "let's go. We can have the trip together."

Before arriving at the store, you both didn't ever imagine the incident that was about to happen.

As soon as you stepped inside the sliding glass door, he got a call and excused himself to a side and you were humming a song to yourself while searching for the items needed.

Then everyone heard a gunshot. Screams and footsteps erupted from inside and he quickly went to your direction behind the shelf where his eyes followed earlier but to his dislike, you were not there. The back door was open and he saw a black car leaving the place.

He quickly dialed Hongjoong's number to let him know about the situation and to come to the location quickly which he would send them soon. He borrowed the computer at the counter of the store and filled in the inputs with codes and required data and he followed a particular car's location from all the CCTV footage of the road of the tracking device and also his phone was tracking your ring, which has a high-tech induced chip.

Within a few moments Ateez reached the desired location, well they were not in a mood to come across the familiar place but still they had to when you are here.

Barging inside the place, an intense fight between both the mafia gangs started. San went to search for you, a bullet almost passed through his arm but fortunately he could avoid it but still he got injured slightly.

There, you were tied to a rusted metal chair and sitting unconsciously. He was quick to untie your ropes and held in his embrace while placing himself on the dirty floor. It doesn't matter, the important thing is for you to be safe.

"Y/n...you are safe."

You blinked your eyes open, first he noticed your scared pupils like he saw them on the first day but it quickly turned into soft and tears brimmed in. You were securely protected by his embrace on his lap.

The others entered the room and found you in that condition and they felt relieved that you were safe. They surrounded your figure, some praising you and some asking you if the enemies hurt you somewhere.

Even though you were denying, none was fully convinced.

No one blamed you.

“I’m sorry…I should’ve listened to you all.”

Hongjoong knelt in front of you and cupped your face, “it’s okay. We should protect you more. Just stay with us and don’t leave us ever. We are going to risk ourselves to protect you, the daughter of our boss.”

You held his wrist and shook your head, “Call me yours. Say you will protect me because I’m yours. Because you all don’t want to lose me.”

“Y/n…you are more precious than you think you are.” he said and pecked your forehead with adoration in his eyes.

Seonghwa knelt beside the leader and held your hand comfortingly, pressing a soft kiss on it. San shifted your body to make you feel comfortable in his hold. “Just know one thing, we love you not because you are his daughter but we are in love with you. We fell in love with an innocent girl.”

“I fell in love too……with you all.” you murmured and thought no one heard it except the three near you but you were so wrong because there was a boost feeling in the rest of them after hearing you. San kissed the crown of head and whispered, “I love you so much, y/n. It hurts whenever I see danger around you.”

Yunho was quick to sweep you off the floor and you squealed in surprise, “well, Tiny. as far as I want to show you my love for you right now. This place is making me anxious. Let’s go home.”

“To my safe place.” hearing your sweet words, he kissed the tip of your nose. Jongho smiled reassuringly at you that even if enemies are trying to hurt you, they would rescue you but now as they know that the complicated feelings of theirs have been solved after the mutual acceptance, they won't be leaving your side ever.

When you all were about to step out of the room, a man held a gun towards Yunho, at you in his grip. He clenched his jaw but before anyone could process anything, Mingi was quick to hold his gun towards the man and stepped forward Yunho, hiding you both with his large frame and shot the man.

He turned around and smirked, “now this is more fun to kill people because of you.”

You turned your face to the other side and could hear others laugh, “keep that shit away.”

“No cursing, tiny.”

Mingi caressed your head before planting a kiss to the side, “you should at least know how to use it.”

Wooyoung led the way out of the warehouse and kept in check of any possible danger in their way.

Entering the car, you sat between Wooyoung and Yeosang when the youngest one of them entangled his hands with yours and you looked at him with a surprise, “hm?” he pressed a kiss on your cheek, “thanks for trusting us in your father’s place.”

“Thanks for keeping me safe like he did.”

“Even my shadow will protect you forever and my love will guide you back to home.” he put his head on your shoulder.

“ I know.”

When you turned to the other side, Yeosang was already staring at you and when he caught your eyes, he smiled, “I didn’t imagine this is how we would be confessing our feelings. But thanks for letting us know that you care for us too, like your dad.”

“I was so scared today. Because of all the lurking danger, I hated to be in this mafia life and my dad hid me from this dark side of the world but thanks to you all for saving me from the lonely world out there after his death. When I thought that today I’m going to die, the only last hope I had was one of you to save me. And you did. All of you did.”

He nodded and patted his shoulder, you obligingly leaned your head on it and he caressed your head softly, “we are always here to keep you safe and to love you forever.”

With cautious optimism, you all embarked on a journey of self-discovery and love, navigating the complexities of the newfound relationship with courage and resilience. Together, you forged a bond that transcended time and circumstance, proving that love could blossom in the most unexpected of places.

As you watched the view outside hand in hand, gazing at the stars above from the window of the car, all of you knew that love was a testament to the enduring power of connection and the infinite possibilities that awaited on the horizon. In each other's arms, you found solace, strength, and the courage to embrace the beautiful uncertainties of life's journey.

After all, you did the right thing. Accepting the extended hand of the leader and being inside the boundary of protection and love.

Note: please I want to thanks to people for reading and reblogging. Reviews are always appreciated. Spread love not hate. If my favoritism is showing with some members then please try to understand oz they are my bias.

Taglist: @mymoodwriting @justhere4kpop @anyamaris @yeoobin @icchyi @jwnghyuns @piratequeen-queenofgames @dinonuguaegi @oreharuuu @hwanring @sanwifesstuff @kiwiisnthereoops @kiwiraccoon @hyuukah @kazscara @aceofspadesbiofalltrades @nvdhrzn @meowmeeps @vtyb23 @haechansbbg

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mingtinys · 1 month

Text

songs of a caged bird

pairing : choi jongho x gn!reader

angst , fluff , lore based , outlaw!jongho , strictland!au

warnings : talk of raids and death , dystopian themes , tyrannical leadership

word count : 1.5 k

requested? yes

a/n : had to brush up on my ateez lore for this one

There's a voice on the roof.

You know because you've heard it echo through the thin walls of your apartment at the same time each morning. It started three days ago, early in the morning when the city sleeps and the guards change shifts.

5:00 A.M.

On the dot.

You thought you might have been imagining it at first. Something as outlandish as singing hadn't been heard in, well, most of your life. Not in any instance without immediate consequence at least. And when you'd asked your neighbors they'd told you they hadn't heard anything of the sort. Then again, they've somehow also never been awoken by the sirens and late-night raids that take place on the streets just below your high-rise. Perhaps if you hadn't been born a light sleeper, you wouldn't either.

But now, as the sound amplifies on the climb to the roof, you're sure of it. There is a voice silkier than anything your mind could possibly fabricate, and the boy it belongs to, high above the world, shrouded in moonlight. He sits on the ledge, legs dangling over the sides, near your bedroom window. His head sways side to side, so consumed in his song that he doesn't notice your approaching footsteps.

"You shouldn't do that." You speak, and the voice halts. Though he doesn't flinch, nor seems the slightest bit startled by your interruption.

"Why not?' He questions.

The boy's dark eyes bore into your own. Tired and cast in shadows that seem to envelop everything around them. There's a blank expression scribbled across his face. Boredom.

Or is it curiosity? That still doesn't feel right.

Maybe indifference.

You can't tell.

"They'll hear you," you point to the streets, where new guardians take post around empty corners and alleyways. There's a chill to the night and you're quick to fold your arms in an attempt to block the morning breeze. "People have been killed for less. If they catch you they'll—"

"Are you going to turn me in?" The boy raises his eyebrows, like he knows you pose no threat to him. In fact, the question feels more like a tease than a presumption.

"I'm just saying, if I can hear you others can. Singing isn't allowed." Though you feel like he should already know this.

"Why?"

"Because, human emotion is the root of the world's—" You begin to regurgitate the same motto you've heard all your life, but the boy holds up his palm.

"I didn't ask you to repeat that jargon they spoon-feed you every day. Why do you think singing is dangerous."

No one's ever asked you that. They've only ever told. But never why, just that it is. Until now, you've never questioned it, and it feels like the boy knows that from your silence.

He's back the next morning. Same voice, same time, same song, same dark brown eyes. Except this time, his expression is different. He looks amused.

No. Delighted.

Actually, it's almost like a... pleasantly surprised look. Yeah, that sounds right.

"You're back." He says.

"So are you."

"I like the view."

"I live here."

"On the roof?" His eyes widen. "I didn't know rent was that expensive?"

Your brow furrows. "No, in my apartment. Below the roof."

"That was a joke," the corner of his lip turns up. "A bad one, but just a joke."

"Oh."

The boy hums, nodding as he looks back out at the city. "You want to sit?"

Part of you wants to stroll down to the 24/7 corner shop, buy a quality pair of noise-canceling earplugs, and tuck back into bed. Forget about the boy with a voice of gold and continue about your mundane life. But the other part feels an itching so deep in your bones it burrows an uncomfortable pit in your stomach.

So you sit, in hopes that learning more will quell that unbearable feeling.

"I'm Jongho," he smiles.

You've noticed Jongho has a habit of being vague. Whether it's answering one of your few questions or simply telling stories, he rarely elaborates on where his answers and tales come from.

Like on the fifth night you joined him on his ledge. When he told you of an island he'd once seen. One he claimed to be so full of color, music, art, and dancing he'd felt like he was back "home" for a moment. A fairytale, you're sure.

"—That kind of stuff is actually celebrated where I'm from." He says that a lot.

"Where I'm from." But never elaborates.

"People make a living out of it. That's what me and my friends wanted to do. But that was before..." Jongho's words peter out and his gaze falls to the distant, twinkling lights in the sky.

"Before what?"

"Before here."

There's something in his eyes you haven't seen from him before. You pin it down a little quicker than you expect. Something halfway between longing and sadness.

Whatever it is, it makes your heart hurt.

"Do you..." your eyes search the sky for the right words. "Wish you could go back? To before."

He nods. "Every day. But there are things keeping me here. People who need me. People I love."

"Your friends?"

"Yeah. Among other things."

Jongho's eyes leave the stars and settle on your face. The moon is full, and it's the first time you've been able to catch the warm, brown hue of them. Like the polished wood of a violin you'd once seen in a history textbook.

You hadn't questioned it back then, but now, you wonder how something so exquisitely crafted could be so scorned by those in charge. But then again, it wasn't your place to question such matters.

Right?

"You should really stop," you say. "I'm worried the guardians will—"

"I thought we weren't supposed to feel trivial emotions like worry?" Jongho grins. You've learned by now that when the corner of Jongho's lip lifts just enough to flash his canines, he's joking. "They might lock you up with me."

"I don't plan on being an accessory. Though I have to say, I will miss your songs." The words taste foreign as they leave your lips and judging by the way Jongho snaps his head to the side, they sound it too.

"Did you just make a joke? Didn't know they taught you how to do that at your prestigious institution." He quips back.

"They teach us a lot of things. Though I'm not quite sure how much of it to believe anymore." Lately, in classes, you've found your mind wandering. Recalling the many stories Jongho's told you and fantasizing about what it'd be like to live in a world with everything yours lacks.

He seems to think pretty fondly of his world. So much so, sometimes you think you're the one who wound up in the wrong world.

"And how does that make you feel?" Jongho presses. It's the most urgency you've heard in his voice since the day you met. It's isn't much, but it's there. Like he's been anticipating this exact moment.

You feel... you aren't entirely sure.

"Conflicted."

You haven't been able to focus on much of anything lately. A whirlwind of questions, feelings, and fear cloud your thoughts day in and day out. Sitting through classes is suffocating and the watchful eye of the android guardians feels more threatening than ever. Like once glance and they'd see straight through you and reveal the doubt accumulating against everything you've ever known.

Your thoughts alone could land you a one-way ticket straight to The Disposal.

Only when you're next to Jongho, safely stowed away above the city on your little rooftop, does the weight lift from your chest. You're used to hiding all of your emotions. Yet somehow he still knows.

"You seem distracted lately."

You've never felt a need to lie with Jongho. "I think— I feel like life shouldn't be lived like this. Void of emotion and art. The way you've described it, it sounds so beautiful. So human. I just don't understand how it could possibly be a bad thing."

There's a softness to Jongho's gaze when your eyes meet and you swear, you've both somehow scooted closer during your speech. Close enough for your thighs to touch and the air between you to feel thinner.

"Do you think it's still possible to bring any of that back?"

"I do," Jongho says it like he knows something you don't. Then again, you've always felt he knows more than he's shared. "It's easier than you think, so long as we have people like you."

"How can you be so sure?"

"Do you trust me?"

"Yes." No doubt, no hesitation, you do.

His eyes search your face for what seems like an eternity and then suddenly, his palm braces against your knee as he leans and his lips meet yours across the narrow distance. It's short but still leaves a warm sensation that lingers even after he pulls away and floods through your veins.

Your head falls to his shoulder and if the morning wasn't so quiet you might've missed the sigh of relief he breaths out. You can physically feel him relax against you, letting his head rest atop yours. Giving your knee one last reassuring squeeze. Whether it's for you or him, you're not entirely sure.

"Jongho?" You whisper.

"Yeah?"

"Will you sing for me?"

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pocketjoong · 9 months

Text

WHEN ATEEZ CAN'T STOP THINKING ABOUT YOU | ot8 x reader

GENRE | suggestive, smau

WARNINGS | This is some unhinged feral suggestive stuff. Pictures of San and Mingi that might cause heart palpitations. MINORS DNI. Not proofread so there might be typos. Lmk if I missed something.

NOTES | Just a little something bc I am delulu. Thank you @nebulousbrainsoup and @ssaboala for beta-ing-ish these! ^_^

#outlaw/atz smau #cromernet #ateez x reader #hongjoong x reader #seonghwa x reader #yunho x reader #yeosang x reader #san x reader #mingi x reader #wooyoung x reader #jongho x reader #ateez imagines #ateez scenarios #ateez smau #ateez social media au #ateez fake texts #ateez fanfic

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lilacmingi · 4 months

Text

OUTLAW CUSTOMS

My works are 14+ ONLY. If you’re under 14 DO NOT interact with me or any of my works

Pairing: Yunho x fem reader, Jongho x fem reader

Word count: 4,656

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𝐘𝐔𝐍𝐇𝐎 | 윤호

A loud and shrill squawk from the parrot perched in the corner of Outlaw Customs filled the car garage as you stepped inside the small establishment.

"Customer!" It screeched, announcing your presence for you.

Jongho, who was buffing out wax on the police car that always sat in the garage, lifted his head, a friendly smile breaking out across his soft features.

"Yunho, your favorite customer is here!" He called.

The sound of tools clattering to the ground in the back room echoed through the car port before the door swung open revealing the tall, dark-haired man, clad in navy coveralls, his face smudged with oil.

"Y/n." He grinned. "What are you doing here?"

"Wooyoung sent me to bring you guys some cash from last night's victory."

"San won again?" Jongho asked with mild astonishment while checking the car for any spots he might have missed.

"He sure did." You dropped a satchel of cash onto the hood of the vehicle.

"Hey, hey. I just waxed that." Jongho scolded.

You gave a sheepish smile followed by a chuckle, relocating the bag to a worn coffee table. "My bad."

"So, you were hanging out with the troublemakers?" Yunho inquired.

"I got bored at home and went to see one of San's fights. Wooyoung saw me there and chased me down afterwards to get me to deliver this to you."

You decided to leave out the part where he said, "I know you have a crush on Yunho, so why don't you just take this cash to Outlaw Customs for me?"

"If you were bored you could've hung out here with me." Yunho mentioned, making Jongho stifle a laugh.

Yunho's jealousy and neediness was beginning to make an appearance, though you seemed to be oblivious to it.

"You guys are busy working on cars, I didn't want to get in the way."

"You wouldn't have been in the way." He assured you.

"Yeah and we don't get many customers anyway." Jongho added. "It gets lonely around here and we can't exactly have a conversation with a parrot."

On cue, their feathered friend squawked from its perch.

"Alright. I'll just come over here and start harassing you guys from now on."

"Yunho would like that." Jongho snickered.

The older mechanic cleared his throat loudly, shooting daggers at the younger man that was currently holding back a smug grin.

Yunho dug through the duffel bag with raised brows and wide eyes.

"Must've had a big crowd tonight." He commented aloud, sifting through the wads of cash before retrieving a couple bundles and tossing them to you. "Here."

You managed to grab them at the last second, nearly dropping the bills.

"What? This is yours though."

"You deserve a cut too."

"For what?"

"Delivering it."

You huffed out a breathy chuckle. "I didn't exactly go out of my way to do it."

"You should take that with you." Jongho spoke up, siding with Yunho. "You've helped us out a lot. You deserve a cut too."

You knew not to argue with them, as neither would allow you to leave without taking some of that cash.

Jongho moved over to close the giant garage door, pulling on the ropes that controlled it and lowered it to the ground.

"Well," He sighed. "I'm gonna call it a night. Yunho, you staying?"

"For a little while."

"Alright." Jongho grabbed his bag from the back room as well as his apartment keys, stopping to coax the colorful parrot onto his shoulder before bidding the both of you goodbye.

Jongho lived right across the street in a small apartment complex with Yunho, so he didn't have very far to walk.

"So..." You began, turning to Yunho expectantly.

"So..." He repeated, shoving his hands into the pockets of his coveralls.

"How are plans for infiltrating Prestige coming along?"

"They're still at a halt."

"Ah." You nodded. "That's the last I heard."

"Yeah. We've gotta lay low for a bit so they don't suspect anything." He sighed softly. "I feel bad for that kid, though."

"Right." You nodded knowingly. "Is he doing alright?"

"Yeah. He's worried about his brother, though."

"I would be too if I were in his position."

A young boy came to the Black Pirates' hideout a few months back after the group's last big plan to help free some of the people of Strictland. They successfully broke people from their trances by using breakers and one of the freed citizens was a little boy that attended Prestige Academy. He mentioned that his brother was freed as well but that he needed help. He showed great concern for his older sibling and wanted something to be done before students at Prestige caught on and figured out he had regained his emotions.

This lined up perfectly, seeing as the boys wanted to make a big move against the government of Strictland and what better way than to attack the academy and free a bunch of young students?

The only issue was, the guys have been on standby for six months now. Of course, it was all for safety reasons. They had to space out their attacks, lest they draw more attention to themselves. The last thing you wanted was for one of them to be captured—especially Yunho.

"I'm worried." You sighed out.

"About what?"

"About you guys. The raid on Prestige is a big one."

"We'll be fine."

"Will you?"

"Yes." He nodded. "It's not like we haven't risked our lives before. We've been lucky enough to make it out safely every time."

"What if your luck runs out? I don't know what I would do if something happened to you."

Your throat immediately closed up, your eyes going wide at your own words.

"I mean, you guys. I don't know what I would do if something happened to you guys."

Judging by the way Yunho's brows quirked upwards, your attempt to backpedal was a failure.

"You care about me that much, huh?" A hint of amusement laced his tone.

"I didn't... that slipped out. Sorry."

"It's fine. Honestly, every time we go on these missions I think about you. You always cross my mind at least once. I have to make sure I make it out safely so I can come back to you."

"Come back to me?"

He nodded. "If I got captured and couldn't see you again, I don't know what I'd do."

You swallowed.

Was this a confession? It sure seemed like one. Though he could just be telling you that you mean a lot to him.

"Well then, you'd better come back to me once these plans are off hold."

He chuckled softly. "I'll do my best."

"You guys are very brave."

"So are you. You've helped us plaster posters around Strictland and have been chased through the streets by android guardians."

"Yeah, but I'm not infiltrating secret hideouts or sneaking into academies like you all."

"What you do is just as important." He assured you earnestly, his serious gaze boring into you.

"You think so?"

"I know so."

You cracked a small smile, glancing down at your feet shyly while messing with your nails. "Thanks."

A beat of silence passed before you lifted your head. The boys were on standby but that could change tomorrow and something could happen to Yunho. Then what? He could get his emotions taken away—or worse. The android guardians could kill him and he would never know how you felt about him.

"Yunho?" Your voice came out weaker than you intended.

"Yes?"

"You mentioned that you always think about me when you're out on dangerous missions. What exactly did you mean by that?"

You decided to ask him directly instead of dancing around the topic. With the world you lived in, there was no time to be putting things off and hinting around in hopes that the other person would catch on.

"Ah." Yunho's ears turned red seconds after the question left your mouth.

"Sorry." You murmured. "I just need to know in case I'm reading into things too much."

"Well..." He trailed off, pulling on his fingerless gloves. "That was my way of saying I like you."

Your posture straightened at his answer, your body language reflecting the way his response made you feel.

"So, you do like me?"

He chuckled, taking a step towards you.

"Would you like me to repeat it?"

"Yeah that might be nice."

Yunho now stood directly in front of you, his head tilted to the side.

"I like you." He repeated, his voice low but pronunciation clear.

So you weren't reading into things too much. He felt the same way as you.

Yunho's large hands slid around to hold your waist, his warm palms making a light rush of excitement tickle your tummy. You suppressed a shiver and threw your arms around his broad shoulders, coaxing him closer. Your eyes were glued to his face, taking in every detail of it, noticing the way his gaze dropped down to your lips while he licked his own, wetting them in preparation for what was to come.

The beating of your heart sped up as the space between your faces diminished little by little. To your dismay, Yunho stopped moving closer just as the tip of his nose brushed yours.

He had already lit a fire within you that begged to be fueled by his lips latching to yours, and just when you were about to get what you wanted, he stopped.

"Why?" Was all you managed to say.

"Are you okay with this?" He inquired softly, his breath fanning against your cheeks.

"I'm more than okay with it. Now, kiss me."

Instead of giving him the time to close the very narrow gap between your faces, you pulled him forward, your impatience taking control.

Yunho grunted softly at the impact, his hands squeezing your waist in response while pulling you closer. Sure, his hands had grease smudges on them and his coveralls were more than likely covered in grime, but you didn't care. His lips were pressed firmly against yours, moving in a passionate manner while keeping a steady pace. The kiss was full of longing as the both of you poured all your emotions into this moment, holding onto each other like your lives depended on it.

Yunho was quick to deepen the kiss, tilting his head to the side to slot your mouths closer together as his kisses became more sloppy and impatient. His breaths came out in sharp exhales through his nose while he boldly nipped at your bottom lip.

He moved forward, causing you to take a step backwards. Your backside bumped against the front of the car parked in the middle of the garage making your breath hitch in surprise.

Yunho's large form covered yours as he leaned over you, not breaking away from the kiss. You moved in sync, leaning back and allowing him to press you against the hood of the car. Your legs separated, allowing him to slot himself between them to get closer to you. Your fingers moved up to his dark hair, carding your fingers through it while lightly dragging the ends of your nails against his scalp. He groaned softly against your lips in response to your actions.

His sounds only egged you on as you brought your hands down to the nape of his neck to play with the longer hair at the back, twirling a strand around your index finger every so often. Yunho's lips parted ways with yours, allowing you a few moments to catch your breath before he attached his mouth to your jawline, stealing the air in your lungs once again. Your head leaned back, allowing him more access as his hands fumbled to find yours, pinning your wrists to the hood of the car as he ravaged your neck.

His name slipped from your parted lips in a blissful sigh, the sound like music to his ears and fuel to the fire that burned inside of him. You let out a tiny squeak when he boldly nipped at the sensitive skin of your neck. Yunho had always been so sweet, goofy, and sometimes even a little clumsy. Now, he was devouring you, showering your lips, neck, and jawline with heated open-mouthed kisses that had your mind clouded.

When Yunho could no longer deny himself oxygen, he pulled away with half-lidded eyes, swollen lips, and pink cheeks. He released your wrists, propping himself over your form which was still laid against the car hood. The both of you were panting and huffing, trying to catch your breath while gazing blissfully at each other.

"That was..." You began breathlessly, unable to find the right word to describe what you had just experienced.

"Intense." Yunho finished for you.

"That's one way to describe it." You chuckled softly, reaching up to run your fingers through Yunho's messy hair, smoothing out the strands that stuck out.

"So, does this make us an item?" He inquired with a cheeky smirk.

"It does." You ran your thumb over his bottom lip, reminiscing on the moments you shared just seconds prior.

Yunho couldn't help but get giddy at the thought of being able to call you his girlfriend.

"Now that we're a couple, you have no choice but to come back to me." You mentioned with a smirk.

"I'd come back to you regardless." He assured you, the sentiment making your heart flutter.

It was then that a look of realization flashed across Yunho's features.

"Jongho is gonna kill us when he finds out we laid all over the hood of the freshly waxed car." He chuckled.

"Who cares?" You grinned, tugging him back down to your lips.

𝐉𝐎𝐍𝐆𝐇𝐎 | 종호

"Car giving you trouble again?"

"Yeah." You sighed, throwing a glance back at the piece of junk sitting in front of Outlaw Customs, the neon light from the sign outside shining down on the horrendous paint job on the hunk of metal like a giant spotlight, bringing attention to the eyesore.

Living on the outskirts of Strictland wasn't easy. It's where the people who didn't want to play by the government's rules lived since this city was out of their jurisdiction. Getting money wasn't easy, therefore buying a decent car wasn't easy, neither was getting a decent paint job. Whoever owned your current hunk of junk previously had given it the worst paint job you'd seen in your entire life. If you didn't know any better you'd say they used a can of spray paint on it, which would explain the uneven coating and the ugly matte finish.

"What seems to be the problem?" Jongho inquired, stepping out of the shop to examine the car.

"Besides all the cosmetic issues, it's started making a weird noise when I'm driving."

"Does it happen when you're applying the breaks or turning the wheel?"

"No. I could be driving on a straight road and it'll start making this awful sound."

"Maybe I should drive it and see if I can figure out what the problem is."

"That'd be great." You pulled the keys from your pocket and dropped them into his open palm.

"Yunho, I'm going for a test drive!" He called out to his friend whom he worked with.

Moments later came a muffled, "Okay!" from underneath the cop car that always seemed to be parked in the garage.

It was then you noticed a long pair of legs sticking out from underneath the back end of the vehicle.

"Jeez! Yunho, I didn't even realize you were there." You clutched your chest.

The tall brunette pushed himself out from underneath the car, his cheeks covered in grime and oil smudges.

"Sorry, Y/n." He chuckled.

"Alright." Jongho twirled your keys around his finger. "I'm headed out."

You followed behind him to the rickety piece of metal that hardly qualified as a car.

"You're tagging along?" He inquired after noticing you trailing behind him.

"Of course I am. For all I know you could crash my car into a ditch and, while I despise this piece of junk, it's all I have."

Jongho let out a snort. "Alright then."

He hopped into the drivers seat while you made yourself comfortable on the opposite side. After a couple attempts to crank the car, Jongho managed to start the engine.

"Told you it's a piece of junk." You commented, earning a small chuckle from him as he pulled away from the shop.

Jongho kept one hand on the wheel as he drove down the vacant streets, his eyes focused on the road ahead while he listened for any strange noises from the car's engine. Your gaze stayed glued to his relaxed form, finding the way he drove with only one hand extremely attractive.

The streetlights gave a dull glow to the interior of the vehicle, flashing along Jongho's features as he drove past each lamp post. You stayed quiet, keeping your eyes glued to the man beside you. Ever since you met Jongho, you felt an attraction to him. It was small at first, superficial maybe, seeing as the first thing that caught your attention were his visuals. However, as you got to know him you fell for more than just his looks. You fell for things like his witty sense of humor, his sweet side that he didn't always let his friends see, and his powerful singing voice that left you speechless.

"You're staring." He commented with a faint smirk playing at his lips.

Your body stiffened, which he seemed to notice without even having to look at you.

He chuckled.

"How..." You couldn't even get the sentence out.

"I can feel when people are staring. It's like a sixth sense. Don't you have it?"

"Sometimes." You responded meekly.

He chuckled lowly, amused by your bashful behavior.

The awkward tension in the vehicle was stifling, however Jongho was cool as a cucumber—as usual. He never appeared nervous about anything and if he ever felt even a shred of fear or anxiety, he would never let anyone know it. That's one of the many things you loved about him. In fact, you found his nonchalant way of behaving very attractive. Nothing ever seemed to bother him—except bugs. He hated bugs.

A familiar and unpleasant sound came from the engine, grabbing your attention and pulling you back to the task at hand.

"That's the noise." You mentioned, pointing towards the troublesome engine.

Jongho nodded. "That sounds rough."

"I know."

"How long has it been doing this?"

"About three days."

"Why didn't you bring it to me sooner?" He asked, momentarily turning to you with a concerned expression.

"I thought it was one of those things that just happened once and then went away."

Jongho chuckled, shaking his head softly.

"It's never one of those things."

"Noted."

"I'll drive a little more and see if I can get it to make that noise again. It sounds like it might be the crank shaft. It'll make a knocking noise if it's not working properly."

You nodded. "Thanks for checking the car out."

"It's my job." He shrugged.

"Still, I appreciate it. I know you and Yunho are the only two mechanics in the city, but you're the only ones I trust to work on my car, even if it is totally worthless."

"Well, you're welcome."

Jongho continued to drive through the city while you kept to yourself for the most part and made sure to keep the talking to a minimum so he could listen for that knocking noise again, not wanting to disturb him.

"You're quiet." Jongho noted aloud.

"You're doing your job right now. I'm just being quiet so you can listen for that sound again."

"You can still talk." He turned to flash you a warm smile, chuckling afterward. "This silence is killing me."

You returned the smile, settling back into the seat and turning your gaze to the road.

"So, when are you two gonna fix up that cop car?" You inquired, striking up a conversation.

"Eventually."

You chuckled. "It's been sitting in the garage for months now."

"We've been busy." He shrugged.

"Doing what? No offense but Outlaw Customs isn't exactly bustling with customers."

"I can't tell you. It's top secret."

"Of course." You laughed, not taking him seriously in the slightest.

"It really is." He defended, his tone light, but carrying a seriousness with it.

"If it really is top secret, why are you even making me aware of it? Wouldn't it be better if I was unaware of the whole thing completely?"

Jongho's expression dropped in realization.

You fell into laughter. "I'm just messing with you. If it's top secret, it's top secret, I won't force you to tell me."

Jongho seemed to be taking the situation seriously, but you didn't think this "top secret" thing was as big of a deal as he was making it out to be.

"So, what have you been up to?" Jongho asked, changing the subject.

"Not much. I've been staying at home most days. I did go to Chili Peppers a couple nights ago. You know, that cowboy guy's face is plastered everywhere."

"Yeah. I've seen it. The posters are all over the city."

"What do you think they want with him?"

"I don't know." Jongho murmured, his eyes glued to the road. "But it can't be good."

"You think he's one of those guys in that group that rebels against the government?" You questioned.

Jongho stiffened at your inquiry, which you almost didn't notice.

"He might be." He responded.

Just then, the knocking noise from your engine sounded, putting an end to your conversation, much to Jongho's relief.

"Well, there it is again." He mentioned.

"Yep." You sighed out.

Jongho promptly pulled off to side of the road, putting the car in park.

"Well," He began, turning towards you. "Now that we know what the problem is, I think we can take it back to the shop. I should be able to get it fixed in a couple days."

"That's great." You nodded, moving to face him, your eyes scanning his features for longer than you intended.

"You're staring again." He mentioned.

"Sorry." You murmured.

It's hard not to. Your inner thoughts added.

"What is it that's so intriguing about me, hm?"

You could see a smirk playing at the corner of his lips as he asked the question.

"Nothing." You cleared your throat and turned your head towards the window. "We should probably get back to Outlaw Customs."

"Not just yet." Jongho's fingers were placed under your chin and turned your head back towards him.

You swallowed, your cheeks set flame by his bold actions. Again, Jongho never got flustered by anything and to see him so unaffected in this situation was very attractive. They way he confidently held eye contact with you made your stomach do flips.

Your heart was pounding in your chest as your mind imagined what might come next. You didn't have to imagine for very long before Jongho leaned across the console, swiftly closing the gap between your faces and attaching his lips to yours. Your entire body melted upon contact, your eyelids sliding shut as you leaned forward to squish your lips more firmly against his. A hum from Jongho vibrated against you, sending a violent rush of butterflies to your stomach. You had no idea Jongho had this kind of passion in him.

Jongho's fingers released your chin and his hand slid around to cup the back of your neck to pull you nearer. You tried to move to him only for the console to bump against your ribs, preventing you from getting any closer. You grunted in response to the obstruction causing Jongho to pull away, letting out a breathy chuckle at your reaction.

"Should we move to the backseat?" He questioned, taking a brief glance at the more spacious area.

You nodded vigorously before scrambling between the driver and passenger seats and into the back, Jongho following behind.

As soon as he joined you, he crawled on top of your form and latched his lips back onto yours, encasing your bottom lip between both of his, the feeling making your whole body melt all over again.

Your hands moved to clutch the collar of Jongho's denim jacket, pulling him to you while he tilted his head to the side to deepen the kiss, making your closed eyelids flutter. Jongho's hand slid down to hold your waist, squeezing the flesh every once in a while in order to ground himself before gently massaging the area with the pad of his thumb. Your hands released his collar and moved up to slide into his dark brown hair, combing your digits through it, eliciting a quiet sigh from him.

The two of you stayed tangled together in the backseat with locked lips for the next few moments until your lungs burned for air.

Jongho was the one to break the kiss, pulling away breathing heavily and resting his forehead against yours while the both of you tried to catch your breaths.

"I have to tell you something." He spoke.

"That you like me?" You questioned with a grin.

"Well, yes but I feel like that was obvious." He laughed softly.

"Then what do you have to tell me?"

"You know that thing that I said was top secret?"

"Mhm." You nodded.

"And you know the group that's rebelling against the government?"

Again, you nodded.

"I'm in it."

Your brows furrowed and Jongho could tell you didn't totally believe him.

"That's why Yunho and I haven't been working on that car. We've been planning an infiltration of Prestige Academy. And the wanted posters hanging up everywhere are of my friend Mingi."

Your eyes searched his face for any signs of dishonesty, but his expression was unchanging.

"You're serious?"

"Yes and I'm sorry I didn't tell you sooner."

"You're part of the group that's been going around Strictland putting up posters and spreading art and music?"

He nodded.

"All of those big disturbances in Strictland were you guys?"

He nodded again.

"I can't believe this."

"I hope you're not angry with me."

"Why would I be angry?"

"Because we're friends and I kept it a secret."

"Being in a group rebelling against the government is something that needs to be a secret." You chuckled. "I understand."

"Yunho and I are trying to lay low and blend in so you can't tell anyone."

"I would never blow your cover like that."

Jongho gave you a small smile.

"You're incredibly brave." You told him.

"I guess." He shrugged as if it were no big deal.

"Isn't it scary being chased by android guardians?"

"It is, but it's what we have to do if we want this world to go back to the way it should be."

"You guys are incredible."

Jongho could feel his ears getting hot at your praises.

"I can believe you've been rebelling against the government and I had no idea."

"Well, now you do."

"You know..." You trailed off. "It's kinda hot."

Jongho perked up. "It is?"

"Mhm." You nodded.

He pulled his bottom lip between his teeth trying to ignore the way your words made his heart race and it didn't help that your fingers were toying with his hair.

"You're driving me crazy." He murmured.

"Am I?"

"Yes." He sighed out before leaning back down to capture your lips between his.

"Wait." You halted his actions, pulling away ever so slightly. "Yunho is expecting us to come back. Don't you think he'll wonder what's taking so long?"

"Nah." Jongho was quick to brush it off, eager to have his lips on yours again—and you let him, your eyelids sliding closed upon contact.

Perhaps you were thankful for your junky car messing up all the time. If not for that, you wouldn't have an excuse to see Jongho.

Hongjoong & Mingi ⟡ Seonghwa & Yeosang ⟡ San & Wooyoung

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