Kpop Angst - Blog Posts

[Hanahaki] [SKZ Han JiSung x M!Reader]

[‼️Trigger Warning‼️ Character Death]

Since the day you broke up, officially with none other than the love of your life, you once believed, Han JiSung. You were the greatest couple of the century in the K-pop industry. Everyone knew the both of you. JiSung from Stray Kids, the rising popular boy group and you, as a rising soloist in Korea.

Everyone knew about your relationship ever since the both of you came out about dating each other and that was four years ago, even before SKZ debuted. You were deeply in love with JiSung and the world could see it. The way you look at him, the way you talk to him, the way you smiled to him, the world was envious. JiSung happened to be the most luckiest person on earth to have you as his boyfriend.

It was four years into the relationship, the both of you had debuted and successfully reached at the peak of your career. You decided it was time, time to make Han JiSung, to be the love of your life to eternity and beyond. You planned to propose to the rapper. Everything was set up, you had booked a candle light dinner at JiSung’s favourite restaurant, you had asked for blessing from his parents, you had carved his name on the engagement ring personally and where else could anything go wrong?

What seems to be a perfect life for you turns out to be a disaster. You grinned, taking light steps towards the training room, where you have told Lee Know to help you lure JiSung in. The training room was the first place you have ever set eyes on JiSung and it held a very significant meaning to both of you. The training room was your first everything. Your first touch, your first hug, your first confession, your first kiss.

“Sungie~, we have to tell M/N the truth, this is wrong. We can’t keep it a secret anymore.” You heard the voice as you were nearing to the entrance.

“I can’t Hyung. I don’t want to hurt M/N. We can keep it a secret, no one needs to know.” You heard your boyfriend said to the dancer. You peeled through the parted doors, regretting instantly as you felt your heart shatters into pieces so thin that it was impossible to fix. JiSung was kissing Lee Know.

You felt the tears accumulate in your eyes, as you clutch the fabric of your shirt, almost ripping it. You bit your lips to choke back the threatening sobs and you ran. You ran as fast as your feet could bring you, going into your studio, locking the doors and you broke down. You felt your chest tightened as you gasped for air, something was not right. Your throat itches as if something was in it. You violently coughed, bent over on your knees as tears clouded your vision. A couple of petals had left your lips, drenched in blood right beneath you. Shit, you mentally cursed.

You didn’t realise how long the time had passed. You were still cooped inside your studio, staring helplessly to the flower petals that you had gathered in your hands. You knew the Hanahaki disease existed but, you weren’t expecting yourself to have it. It was the knock to your door that snapped you out of your train of thoughts. You quickly threw the petals inside the bin, wiped off the blood on the floor and tried to make yourself look decent.

“Who is it?”

“Honey? It’s me.” You choke back a sob, taking in a deep breath before unlocking the doors to it. “Honey? Lee Know Hyung told me that you were suppose to meet me at the training room but, it’s been almost 6 hours, what have you be—,”

There was a moment of silence as you stared at the shorter rapper in front of you. Your heart screamed in agony, your fist curled up, ready to throw a punch to him but, you didn’t.

“You look awful,” JiSung took a step into the room, leading your frail into the light. He realise how awfully pale you were and you felt cold, almost too cold for a human. “Did you catch a virus? Honey?”

“Han JiSung, let’s break up.” You managed to croak out despite the dryness of your throat. JiSung paused, staring at you.

“Okay.” He finally said after what seems to be minutes of silence, “but, I hope we can still at least be friends.” JiSung threw himself to you, burying his face into your chest. You didn’t hug him back, neither did you do anything. You just stood there, eyes watching the rapper. “Thank you for the four years.” And he left.

You felt a few tears rolling down your cheek and you fell to your knees. You feel the need to cry, you feel the need to scream, you feel the need to trash around but, you stayed where you were, numbed as ever.

**********

You forced a smile as you watch JiSung and Lee Know cling onto each other on stage. You were the host of the show, congratulating SKZ for winning an award for the best performance. You watched as Chris said his thank you speech before passing the mic over to your ex. JiSung cleared his throat, giving a small smile and nod to you.

“Hi Stays! Thank you for always being here for us and thank you for the votes! Thank you for existing in our life! Before we do our encore, there is something that I would like to confess. M/N and I are no longer together. Thank you for all of you who has supported us on our four year relationship but, M/N and I decided that we are not meant to be together but, don’t worry, he and I are still mutual friends.” JiSung announced.

You felt the familiar pain in you grew as mixed of responses were given by the audience. You see JiSung walking over to you, holding out his arms and you knew it was to show the world that you guys were still mutual friends. You forced another grin, hugging JiSung for a split second before you signal for the music to be turned on. SKZ continued with their encore stage and you, ran backstage, almost broke a door down to the washroom.

Your gut was knotted tighter than a hangman’s noose round the neck of a 300-pound wrestler. You released your content into the toilet bowl. The vomit pooled in it, as you heaved on all fours. Your stomach clenched in pain. More and more petals, just like every other day pooled in the bowl. You wanted nothing more but, death.

*******

Han JiSung was conflicted. Unable to determine what he was actually feeling. There was no immediate reaction to when M/N had asked him for a break up. He wasn’t completely sad, he felt more of relieve because as if god could read his mind, at least, M/N was the one who asked for a break up and he didn’t need to brutally hurt the soloist by confessing that he felt out of love, or that was what he assumed.

It was a month prior to their break up when JiSung realise he was getting attracted by his own group mate, Lee Know. Lee Know had always been kind and caring and sweet hearted when it came to him and it made JiSung realise that he was falling for the dancer. Not that his current boyfriend, now Ex, M/N, was bad or awful. Instead, M/N had been with him for 4 years and he had to admit, the relationship had thought him so much in life. He loved, no, he love M/N still but, maybe he love Lee Know more.

Even though he was confuse about the sudden break up, JiSung decided not to make a big fuss out of it and mutually ends things with M/N. It was not like they were going to cut ties with each other, at least they still kept in touch, or that was what JiSung hoped. After the day he ended their 4 years relationship, he could feel the distant M/N tried to make. M/N barely hangs out in their dorm, M/N actually lives there, now sharing a room with Chris after they announced their break up and JiSung shared a room with Lee Know.

JiSung would catch the soloist in odd morning hours, in the bathroom, sat on the floor, asleep, multiple times and when JiSung asked the latter, he would answer with the same sentence.

“I got too tired so I took a nap here.”

JiSung noticed that within a span of two months, M/N looked like a ghost. He could see how much M/N had lost weight, the hollow cheeks, darken eye bags, the lethargic movement of the latter. He couldn’t help but worry. Every time JiSung tried to approached his ex, M/N would dodge him like a bullet and reasoned that he needed to rush to his studio to complete some work. JiSung frowned, feeling a slight ache in his heart and he ranted his thoughts to his current lover.

It was 4 days later, when JiSung got back from the gym with Lee Know and ChangBin trailing behind him. The dorm was in a mess, there was blood on the floor, flower petals drenched in it making the rapper frightened at the sight. ChangBin had called their leader to ask on what had happened. JiSung felt his heart pound against his chest, unable to calm down even with Lee Know holding him in his arms, something was not right. ChangBin gasped through the phone, looking towards the couple. JiSung could see ChangBin’s hand trembling as he held his phone.

“M/N is in the hospital.”

JiSung sobbed uncontrollably as Lee Know held him. Everyone was outside the Ward, not allowed to enter as per the doctor’s instructions. They were only been briefed that M/N had been terminally ill for the last two months and he was now, on his deathbed. It took a while for all of them to process everything and JiSung was the first to break down indefinitely. His cries echoed down the hallway, he fell on his knees, sobbing M/N’s name.

“Hey, Sungie~,” the tender gentle voice caught JiSung’s attention, “M/N called for you, alone.” Lee Know said.

JiSung didn’t even spare a second to calm down as he barged into the Ward to see his ex, looking so fragile, laying on the bed. There was a heart monitor connected to the soloist, beeping a little too slow for his liking and a oxygen mask on the latter. JiSung, sat on the chair, grabbing M/N’s cold hands and he burst into another wave of tears.

“Hey love, I thought the only time you would cry is when your parents are no longer here. Why are you crying like a baby?” M/N managed to chuckle and teased the rapper in short, gasping breath.

“Why…..why didn’t you tell me that you were ill?”

“This is exactly why I didn’t want to tell you or anyone. Look at you, a crybaby. You looked like a squirrel who had his nuts fall to the ground on a sad winter.”

“M/N…..stop messing around! How are you so carefree?! Wh y didn’t you tell me?! I am your lover, even if I was your lover, I should’ve known!” JiSung sobbed.

“Like how, I should’ve known that you love Lee Know Hyung?”

The question caught JiSung off guard as he looked at M/N smiling face.

“It’s okay. I know. It doesn’t matter anymore. Only your happiness matters the most. As long as Lee Know Hyung can take care of you to the eternity and beyond, I don’t see any wrong in leaving you in his hands.” M/N felt a tear roll down his cheeks as he gently caress JiSung’s knuckles with hiss thumb.

“B…but how?”

“I rather you not know. Anyways, I am really feeling sleepy right now and exhausted. I thought you should be the last person I would see before I fall asleep,” the heart monitor decreased as every second go by.

“Han JiSung, thank you for making me the happiest man on earth. Han JiSung, thank you for being the love of my life. Han JiSung, thank you for being you. Han JiSung, thank you for existing. Han JiSung, thank you for existing.”

JiSung cried hysterically as the heart monitor stopped, M/N’s grip were no longer tight on his hand. He felt his heart clenched and he begin to feel overwhelmed. JiSung fell off the chair, gasping for air as tears rolled down his cheeks. JiSung felt his chest tightened as a series of cough escapes his lips. Something was bound to come out of his throat and as he heaves forward, a white petal flew out.

“Hanahaki”

It was that moment when he realise that M/N was the one he loved most.

oop another unpopular kpop opinion eek 😬

so today i was laxin you know, i have a few other family members that like and appreciate kpop and it’s pretty dope. we were listening some random mix designed by youtube with a bunch of different songs from a variety of groups. this is what i’ve discovered pls bare with me iss gonna be a long one, merci.

thing numero uno: Jeon Soyeon was overlooked and she has the biggest f*** you out of everyone.

so watching the copious amounts of (g)-idle mvs i’ve come to understand that the homegirl Soyeon did not get the appreciation she deserved on pd101 season 1, bc she was one of the most well rounded trainees in that show but what sucks the most is the fact that people were saying her visuals “weren’t to standard” well first off screw you and i hope her success is enough to shut your beauty standards and unnecessary ass up, second she’s honestly really beautiful i mean i don’t know what’s wrong with her face bc it’s p e r f the way it is. She was really underrated, she literally put a halt on her rapping and badass aesthetic at some point in the show to have the chance to debut, she could hit notes that some of the main vocalists weren’t capable of doing. but damn, they dragged her through the mud. thank god she made a name for herself in the rapping area, a literal stage presence god no tea, no shade, just fax.

thing numero dos: JYP didn’t really motivate or push Lee Chayeon enough.

i saw our dancing queen chayeon pop up a few times and it kinda made me think, chaeyeon is such an amazing performer (well duh otherwise she wouldn’t be an idol) but what confuses me is the fact that JYP didn’t hold that/fight for it. i mean she’s proved herself a lot throughout her youth that she’s capable of doing a lot in terms of performing, i don’t know why she wasn’t able to debut with a group from JYP but her sister was?..?? they’re both incredibly talented don’t get me wrong but i always thought that chaeryeong was the favourite out of the both of them. i feel that there was more support behind chaeryeong than there was for chaeyeon and i don’t know it kinda tugs at my heart, i’m aware that different factors could’ve and most likely have pushed chaeyeon to leave and go to a different company but it feels like JYP just lost interest and faith in her.

thing numero tres: i’m worried about twice, that’s it. that’s the tweet.

if you’ve been living under a r o c k you probably haven’t heard about TWICEs ‘Feel Special’ comeback. well, surprise! it’s my favourite comeback hands down 🚫🧢 the whole aesthetic is beautiful, the girls look absolutely amazing (error: #0936274 visual hole not found #404) and of course the beautifully written lyrics. now, if you’re unaware about why i think this song is perfect it’s because each of the girls share their small part about what they’ve struggled with, what they’ve experienced and how dependant they were on each other. it warms my heart, but something makes me feel uneasy. now, i’m not a hardcore ONCE but i’m telling you, when i look at Sana’s face in the comeback shows i’m sad bc a majority of the time i feel like she looks sad or exhausted, more than the rest. i worry bc that’s what mina was like you know? i miss Mina (get well lovely lovely lady) she was pushed to certain limits which leader her to our situation right now. i’m really hoping Sana is okay and she’s feeling better after the previous long forgotten scandal involving her. i also fear for Jihyo, considering she had a strain during the comeback special. @ JYP please look after your artists, please make sure they’re comfortable and living well considering that they’re making you money 👀

PSA: Please take these things into consideration!

yes, i’m aware that soyeons image didn’t fit with the concept of i.o.i but damn, she was made for stardom. i’m just glad she found it. i’m aware that chaeyeon has been given a chance to show the world what she’s got thanks to iz*one and yes chaeryeong is indeed a talented soul who deserves her debut, they’ve both worked hard and proved themselves. i wish them nothing but success in the future of their careers. i’m aware that JYP is thankful for his artists since they keep the company afloat *cough* except for GOT7 *cough* i just want him and his team to understand that the girls are working incredibly hard but they need to be brought back to earth for some well deserved rest, that goes for all artists really. but uhhh *cough* LOOK AFTER GOT7 TOO YOU COWARDS *cough*

Fight Club

Johnny X Y/N X Yuta Nakamoto

Just a piece of advice!!! This fanfiction probably won't make any sense unless you've seen the 1999 movie Fight Club written by David Fincher. This revolves around the storyline for said movie and previous knowledge of it needs to be present for it to make sense! In that case, read on! :) 💜💜

⚠️ Warnings: swearing, mentions of gore, mentions of nsfw, talk of weapons and violence as well as drugs⚠️

"You're not your job. You're not how much money you have in the bank. You're not the car you drive. You're not the contents of your wallet. You are not your fucking Khakis. You are the all-singing all-dancing crap of the world."

...

Part Two:

Flashback:

Going on business trips was Yuta's least favorite part about his shitty existence. Having to travel from flight to flight for his business sucked, as he would say, ass.

So another plane ticket for him would mean another night of no sleep, zoning out while someone talked about a car line they needed to recall because of safety hazards, and then back onto his flight with people he had no interest in. That's the thing about self-serving "friends." They're just people who you have the displeasure of meeting because you're both going to the same place. After you're done trying to pass the time, you never see each other again and that's that. Well, Yuta thought of it that way.

Trying to get some sleep, he rested against the very uncomfortable plane seat and closed his eyes.

He didn't know when he passed out, just that it wasn't for long. The flight attendant had already gone through with the snack tray, he figured from the pretzels other people had on their laps that it wasn't too long ago. Sighing, he shuffled around his seat so he was in view of the window. However, someone was now sitting there fiddling with the window cover. He had longer black hair and red tinted glasses taking up most of his face. A cigarette was dangling between his teeth- unlit -and he had on a pair of very tight and very leather jeans. He also had an old pair of dress shoes with a hole in the top and scuff marks along the side. This man must've gotten dressed in the dark, Yuta decided.

"If you feel that you would be unable or unwilling to perform the duties on the safety card, please ask a flight attendant to reseat you."

The Elton John impersonator finally spoke to Yuta, a cocky grin on his face and glasses slowly sliding down his nose. In his hand was the manual for a plane crash which he must've taken out of the seat pocket in front of him. Yuta didn't think that anyone actually read those.

"That's a lot of responsibility."

"Wanna switch seats?"

"No, no I don't think I'm the man for that particular job."

What was with this guy? Yuta's first thought was drugs, but then he mentally slapped himself for thinking that. 'This guy's probably just as sane as I am', he thought.

The man sighed and looked around at the rest of the passengers before staring back out the window. "An exit door procedure thirty thousand feet. Mhm. The illusion of safety." He smiled again, except this time Yuta could feel himself glued to his chair, as if his movements would lead to the plane crash Red Glasses was talking about.

"Yeah, I guess so." Yuta let out with a sigh.

Just then the man said, "You know why they put oxygen masks on planes?"

'Oh joy', "So you can breathe."

Red Glasses sighed and rolled his eyes. It's clear that he's making Yuta out to be an idiot. "Oxygen gets you high. In a catastrophic emergency, you're taking giant brain-panicked breaths. So you become euphoric, docile, you accept your fate. It's all right here." He grabs the pamphlet and opens to the page he was reading. Then, shoving it in Yuta's face, he continues his rant.

"Emergency water landing 600 mph. Blank faces, calm as Hindu cows."

The horribly computer generated pictures of people following safety protocol showed them all- as Red Glasses stated - unusually calm. At this, Yuta laughs. The man did have a point.

"That's uhm, that's an interesting theory."

After a pause in conversation, Yuta tries to talk to the man again as he realizes that this is the most interesting conversation he's had throughout his whole trip. He actually didn't expect someone with so much exuberance to be seated on his opposite side.

"What do you do?"

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, what do you do for a living?"

The man's face turned into another one of those cocky smiles as he pushed a couple strands of hair away from his eyes.

"Why? So you can pretend like you're interested?"

Yuta laughed again, not sure how to respond. His textbook conversations that he had thought up earlier while sitting on his prized IKEA couch wasn't working. The conversations he saved for when he didn't know what to say. They were usually foolproof, but not with this guy. For once in his life, Yuta felt dumb.

"You have a kinda sick desperation in your laugh," The man stated as he reached for something from below the seat in front of him. Realizing what it was, Yuta exclaimed that they had the same briefcase. Odd stranger and similar taste. Interesting.

"Soap."

"Sorry?"

"I make and I sell soap." He opened the briefcase and saw the bars of soap Red Glasses was talking about. For the neat way they were packaged, Yuta could tell this guy was serious. Indeed, he made soap. They were a little deformed, but Yuta guessed the sold well. Their appearance was high quality.

"The art sticks of civilization." Yuta took the business card held out in front of him.

'And this is how I met....' "Johnny Seo."

"Did you know if you mixed equal parts of gasoline and frozen orange juice concentrate you can make nepalm?" Johnny said, looking directly at Yuta now.

"No I did not know that, is that true?"

"That's right. One can make all kinds of explosives using simple household items."

"Really?"

"If one were so inclined." Johnny smirked again and shut the briefcase in his lap closed. The smell of the fruity soap washed over Yuta's nose as it did, and he started to understand why people bought them. There's a sense of familiarity to the smell, Yuta couldn't tell if it reminded him of old lady perfume or bacon.

"Johnny, you are by far the most interesting single-serving friend I have ever met. See, I have this thing that everyone on a plane is single-serving-"

"-Oh I get it. That's very clever." Johnny interrupted Yuta as he was about to explain his odd correlation with people and planes. Usually, the person Yuta talked to when he boarded was someone who was desperate to get him to shut up, so they let him talk about God knows what for however long he wanted. Not Johnny, though.

For lack of something better to say, Yuta replied with "Thank you."

"How's that working out for you?"

"What?"

"Being clever."

'Who is this guy?' "Great."

"Hmn. Keep it up then." Johnny patted Yuta's shoulder and smiled again. It was 100% a half smile and Yuta could tell that his small talk was boring Johnny to no end. His observations were proved true when Johnny readied to get up to leave his seat.

"Right-O. Now, a question of etiquette as I pass- do I give you the ass or the crotch?"

...

Yuta aggressively typed on his work computer while his thoughts mercilessly tugged at his brain. Y/N was mad again, Yuta could tell. It wasn't just about the dress thing, no it was also because of the sex. She'd been pestering him about it all week, trying to lure him upstairs. Yuta wasn't sure why she was trying to play with both him and Johnny but he knew that there was something wrong.

Fight Club was also very quickly taking over Yuta's life. He dressed sloppily to work every day, not even bothering to put on a tie or button up the rest of his shirt, with blood stains from a fight the night before. He was even smoking in the office, something he wasn't used to doing but now couldn't care less about.

Throughout all of the activities taking hold of him, Yuta couldn't sleep again. His insomnia was the worst he can remember it ever being. With that thought still on his mind, he grabbed his laptop bag and walked out of the office, on his way to Joon's once again.

...

"Alright boys. It's time for another fight. This week we have Yuta and one of the newcomers."

Johnny was getting used to his position as a spectator. He'd only fought a couple of times, but he seemed to get a pass from the other members because of the position of leader he'd taken over. His poise and demeanor had changed since Yuta's first encounter with him; that cocky, arrogant smirk still resided on his face but that was all that was left of the Johnny Yuta once knew. Or so he thought. He'd only known Johnny for a few months after all.

Yuta prepared himself for his next fight. He was angry. And his insomnia was getting worse by the second- he needed someone to take his aggression out on. Pain seemed to be the only cure to his sleep deprivation.

"Alright Yuta. You're up against Ten."

Yuta stared at the tall and muscular man at the other end of the "ring". He wasn't jacked but he definitely worked out. He was fit, covered in tattoos, and was littered with piercings along the sides of his ears. This man had so many pictures etched onto his skin that Yuta doubted he could even count them all. And, he was bleached blonde. Like- really bleached blonde. Draco Malfoy would've been jealous.

Yuta planted his feet firmly to the ground, watching the strange man named Ten do the same thing. This was his first night, so Yuta would be sure to make it memorable for him. At least, from the ground.

"How much do you bet?" Yuta heard from someone in the crowd. Since when was Fight Club about bets?

"I'll give you a twenty for tattoos."

That was all Yuta needed to hear before he was filled with rage. Johnny was in on this too? This was just supposed to be the two of them. Since when was it about an underground cult? Yuta felt sick to his stomach as he dealt the first blow.

And then another. And then another. And then another.

Why wasn't Ten fighting back? Well you see, Yuta had struck him completely by surprise, rendering him defeated from the minute his ass hit the cement ground of Joon's sacred basement. Ten couldn't even stand to try again before this kid was on top of him hitting him everywhere: the jaw, the nose, the eyes, even his motherfucking ear.

Yuta was ruthless.

For once, Fight Club was silent. The only thing that could be heard was Yuta's punches and the snapping of bones and moaning of Ten from beneath him as his body contorted into uncomfortable positions. He was bleeding from his nose and mouth and his beautiful face was now going to have an incredibly large scar across the side.

Amidst all of this commotion, Johnny lit a cigarette.

"Get him off."

Yuta was pulled away from Ten who was now knocked out cold.

"Why'd you beat up Ten that badly?" Johnny asked, looking directly at Yuta with an undecipherable look. He had a beer in one hand and hair frizzled everywhere. Over the past couple of months it had grown to an extraordinary length of an inch and a half. This meant flyaway strands everywhere. Yuta was mainly just looking for anything to focus on instead of his friend's face. The humiliation of what he had done to Ten's face was enough for him. Yuta held his wrist to his chest and assessed any leftover damage.

"I felt like destroying something beautiful."

...

The streetlights were dim as Johnny and Yuta ran through the dark. The sidewalk was uneven so they'd taken to the side of the road instead, making their way to the back of a large building with scuffed up shoes and bloodied noses. Yuta had no idea why he was here other than the fact that Johnny had dragged his ass out into the cold to "make soap" or whatever the fuck that meant. Yuta knew he'd figure it out though, Johnny always had a way with turning anything into a philosophical speech.

The chain-link fence was nearing Yuta's vision as he and Johnny ran on. The lights were brighter up there, and for a second Yuta wondered if they would get caught trying to break into the place. Johnny had said it was abandoned, but that obviously wasn't true seeing as he was shimmying his way over the fence after throwing his coat up over the barbed wire. He was making fast hurried movements and Yuta followed suit, grabbing the red leather jacket and hoisting it over his shoulder once he was on the other side. An alarm rang out and they both ducked for cover behind a large dumpster.

"I thought your dumbass said this place was abandoned?"

"It is at night. Usually."

"Who's out here?!?" They heard a policeman yell, the sound of a dog nearby made them stop in their tracks.

"Shit. Guess we'll have to wait him out." Johnny said between drawls of his cigarette.

"Wait him out?! It's 26 degrees outside are you crazy?!?"

At this, Johnny smiled. "Very."

The next twenty minutes were grueling as they waited for the guard to leave. Once security was taken care of, Johnny led Yuta to another dumpster on the other side of the building. Upon opening it, he climbed inside and started rumaging through it.

"Johnny, where are we?"

"Can't you fucking read?"

Yuta looked above Johnny's head to where he was pointing. There was a giant sign that proved they were in a medical facility. Liposuction.

At Yuta's realization, a bag of said material was thrown at him and he barely caught it in his arms before it fell to the ground. The red and flesh colored goop slid around in the bag reminding Yuta of throw up.

"Here, there's a few more."

Going back over the fence, Johnny threw Yuta more bags from the dumpster as he caught them from the other side. However, one of these were a failed attempt because the Yuta had found himself lost in thought. You, in particular.

He remembered how excited you were to show him the dress you'd bought. Your happy little giggles as you paraded around in it when you had found it made his heart swell.

Wait why does he remember that? Wasn't the first time he'd seen you wear it was in the kitchen?

"Hey shit face! The lard!"

Snapping back into reality, Yuta watched the bag catch on the barbed wire and split open, releasing a flood of human fat and blood all over his head.

"Aw fuck."

...

Yuta had taken a very thorough shower. He had been washing for hours it felt like, just to try and remove that god-awful smell from his hair and his clothes. Not that the water on Paper Street was very clean, but it was better than nothing.

Once he was finished he got dressed in a pair of jeans and a t-shirt. It was already past 3:00am and he doubted he would be getting much sleep anyways, so he just got ready for work. Walking down the rickety stairs from his bedroom and into the kitchen, he was met with that horrible smell once again.

"Ugh, what is that?" Yuta asked, looking for Johnny to answer. He held his nose and made his way to the fridge where he was stopped by Johnny who brought out some of his experiment stuff.

"Ay watch it this shit burns." He said, going back to stirring whatever pot he had been fussing over previously. Johnny was wearing nothing but his pants from earlier, his shirt was lying on the other side of the counter and his jacket had been abandoned to the bedroom upstairs. Because of this, Yuta was able to see Johnny's exposed muscles as well as the scars from previous fights and other miscellaneous events in his life. Yuta couldn't help but stare. Johnny really was pretty.

"Okay." He motioned for Yuta to stand at the table that was covered with experiments and the lard from their previous adventure. Once Yuta was situated at the table with a confused expression dawning his face, Johnny smiled. This was one of those malicious ones that he put on before he fucked something up for Yuta again. Last time he'd given him this look, it was when he threw Yuta's work computer out the window of their dingy old house blabbering on about corporate businesses and the corruption of everyday society.

Johnny then grabbed Yuta's hand and kissed it.

"What is this?"

Johnny picked up a lenticular container from his left hand side and started to pour the powdery contents onto Yuta's hand.

"This," he said, "is chemical burn."

Yuta was confused as to why his wrist was being held down to the spot but then the chemical kicked in. Yuta's first reaction was to scream.

The pain was unbearable. It was the worst pain Yuta had ever felt and he was starting to wish he could die just to get it to stop. Anything to put out the flames on his hand, eating his flesh and leaving a crater in its wake. His breathing quickened as his body went into fight or flight mode, his hand shaking around in Johnny's grasp and his legs wobbling.

"It'll hurt more than you've ever been burned and it'll leave a scar." Johnny stated in a nonchalant tone.

'If guided meditation could work for cancer it could work for this.' Yuta thought as he closed his eyes and tried to envision a nice forest somewhere. His daydreaming, however, was cut short by Johnny's voice.

"Stay with the pain. Don't shut this out."

"No!" Yuta drew back from Johnny's hand and his head hit the shelf containing their unused pots and pans. He held his burning hand to his side as he waited for the pain to stop or even just dwindle a little. Yuta felt his adrenaline levels skyrocket as tears formed in the corners of his eyes.

Johnny took hold of Yuta's wrist with his burning hand once again and slammed it down on the table. Due to his thrashing, Yuta knocked a lot of Johnny's materials onto the ground of the kitchen, not caring about destroying anything and only thinking of the excruciating pain before his eyes.

"Look. At. Your. Hand! The first soap was made from the ashes of heroes, like the first monkey shot into space! Without pain, without sacrifice, we would have nothing!" Johnny stared at his friend dead in the eyes and tried to illicit a sense of fear into him.

Yuta screamed again as he tried not to think of the words sear or flesh. Nothing was working to try and calm the pins and needles attacking his body. He tried to break away from Johnny but to no avail. The man was prepared for this, it seemed.

"STOP IT. This is your burning hand! It's right here!" With that statement, Johnny slammed Yuta's hand against the counter again to try and focus his friend on his philosophical assignment. He was getting pissed now.

"I'm going to my cave. I'm going to go to my cave and I'm going to find my power animal!" Yuta exclaimed, trying to remember his sessions from support group and their ways of coping with difficult tasks. He remembered in a Leukemia group that someone had mentioned a "safe space" where you could form whatever it is your heart desires to try and make yourself feel safe in an unsafe situation. Yuta found his to be a cave with a penguin, however, that penguin has changed into his daydream of you.

"No!" Johny rolled his eyes and slammed his fist on the table to accentuate his point. "Don't deal with it the way those dead people do! Come on!"

"I get the point you're making please! Please make it stop!" Yuta managed to get out in between heavy breaths and the knot in his throat.

Johnny pursed his lips. "No! What you're feeling is premature enlightenment!"

Yuta imagined his cave once again in an effort to escape his reality. Instead of your calming face, he was met with the image of you naked while he was atop you, both of you within the icy confines of his arctic imagination. He coughed as he went in and out of his vision.

Johnny must've sensed what his friend was up to, because not seconds later Yuta was getting slapped across the face. "It's the greatest moment of your life, man! And you're off somewhere missing it!"

"No I am not!" Yuta screamed through gritted teeth.

"Shut up! Our fathers were our models for God. If our fathers bailed, then what does that tell you about God?!"

"No, no I don't-" Another forceful slap from Johnny resonated throughout the room.

"Listen to me!" Johnny threw his goggles off his head and onto the floor with the other cups of mysterious substances that Yuta had dropped.

Johnny got closer to his face to the point where if he leaned any further over the table, he'd be nose to nose with Yuta.

"You have to consider the possibility that God does not like you. He never wanted you. In all probability, he hates you. But, that's not the worst thing that can happen."

"It's not?!"

"We don't need him!" Johnny spat, and Yuta could tell that his pleading was getting him nowhere. For now, all he could do would be to endure the pain until Johnny felt sorry enough to tell him how to stop the burning. He had to know, right? He was the one who was working with the fucking chemical.

"We don't! We don't need him, I agree!!"

Johnny smiled at him from the other side of the table. "Fuck damnation man, fuck redemption! We are God's unwanted children?! Then so be it!"

Yuta flung his hand to the side with Johnny still attached, knocking over more things in their kitchen and watching as his supposed to be single-serving friend laughed through his pain.

"Listen! You can run water over your hand to make it worse, or you can- look at me! -or you can use vinegar to neutralize the burn."

Bingo. That was Yuta's ticket out of this hell. His eyes met Johnny's and he could feel his hatred for him bubbling up from his chest and into his eyes where he put everything he felt into his look. He wanted Johnny to know how he was feeling.

"There you go."

"Please let me have it! Please!"

"First, you have to give up. First you have to know, know, not fear, that one day you're going to die."

"You don't know how this feels!" Yuta screamed again in agony, watching the bubbling of his flesh on what was left of the top of his hand. Of course Johnny could sit all high and mighty on his side of the table, he had no idea how much Yuta was suffering. Was this some sort of sick joke?

Johnny's malicious smile returned once again as he raised his other hand from under the table and into Yuta's line of vision. There, on the spot Yuta felt the most pain at the moment, was a scar similar to that of a chemical burn on Johnny's hand. Ugly, big, and worn with pride.

"It's only after we've lost everything that we're free to do anything."

Yuta's eyes met his as he started to calm down and his body adjusted to the fire on his right hand. "Okay." He said as a tear rolled down his cheek.

Johnny slowly removed the boy's hand from his grasp and watched as Yuta held his same position with his hand over the table. He was shaking, but he was determined to see this through now, knowing that it was one of Johnny's more difficult lessons. If he could get through Fight Club on the daily, he could get through this, easy. Even though the burn hurt more than any missing tooth or broken nose.

Johnny grabbed the giant jug off the counter behind him and flipped the cap off, throwing it's contents onto Yuta's hand and drenching him in vinegar. The pain instantly stopped and Yuta clutched his hand to his chest and fell to the floor, calming himself down after all of this. He looked up towards the table and saw Johnny staring down at him with that shit-eating grin of his.

"Congratulations. You're one step closer to hitting the bottom."

Amongst the spinning of the ceiling and the labored breathing, Yuta found beauty in the events of that night on Paper Street. They might not have made soap, but they made a man. And Yuta found out he was more capable of anything than ever before.

...

(Part three coming soon!)

[AN:] Thank you for reading! Please interact with your thoughts! This is somewhat new writing material for me and I would love to know if you liked it or not! Thank you! :)

FIGHT CLUB

Johnny Seo X Y/N X Yuta Nakamoto

Just a piece of advice!! This fanfic probably won't make any sense unless you've seen the 1999 movie, Fight Club written by David Fincher. This revolves around the storyline for said movie and previous knowledge of it needs to be present for it to make sense! In that case, read on! :) 💜💜

⚠️ Warnings: swearing, mentions of gore, mentions of nsfw, talk of weapons and violence as well as drugs⚠️

People were always asking me, did I know Johnny Seo?

"We won't really die, we'll be immortal."

"You're thinking of vampires."

"oh-...ra..aH-...oo"

With a gun barrel between your teeth, you only speak in vowels.

With my tongue, I can feel the silencer holes drilled into the barrel of the gun. Most of the noise a gunshot makes is expanding gases. I totally forgot about Johnny's whole murder-suicide thing for a second and I wondered how clean the gun barrel was.

Johnny checked his watch. "Three minutes."

The building we're standing in won't be here in three minutes. You take a 98-percent concentration of fuming nitric acid and add three times as much sulfuric in a bathtub full of ice. Then, glycerin drop-by-drop. I know this because Johnny knows this.

The demolitions committee of Project Mayhem wrapped the foundation columns of this building with blasting gelatin. The primary charge will blow the base charge, and this spot Johnny and I are standing on will be a point in the sky.

"This is our world now. Two minutes."

Two minutes to go and I'm wondering how I got here.

...

Part One:

"I want you to hit me." Johnny said, fixing his posture and squaring up to Yuta trying to get a better position for a fight. They were outside of Joon's on a cold night after Yuta lost his apartment and his job. Both of which exploded in his face. His apartment a bit too literally. He wondered if any of his Ikea furniture survived the blast.

"I- What?" Yuta was confused now. First, Johnny had stolen a bunch of ketchup packets from the inside of the restaurant, stuffed them in his pockets, and walked out with a cigarette dangling between his teeth. Now, he was asking Yuta to knee him in the gut or swat him on the nose.

"You heard me. I know you want to."

Truth is, Yuta did want to hit him. And to be fair, Johnny deserved it. I mean, the guy blew up his apartment with homemade dynamite for Christ's sake.

Yuta reeled his arm back and hit Johnny the best he could. Johnny looked taken aback as he stumbled to regain his footing. Through a bloody nose and determined eyes he replied, "My turn."

And thus, Fight Club commenced.

...

"The rules of Fight Club are as follows:

One, you do not talk about Fight Club.

Two, you DO NOT talk about Fight Club.

Three, someone yells stop, goes limp, taps out, the fight is over.

Four, only two guys to a fight.

Five, one fight at a time.

Six, no shirts, no shoes.

Seven, fights will go on for as long as they have to.

Eight, if this is your first night at Fight Club, you have to fight."

Johnny walked around the circle of men who had gathered before him as he explained the rules of the club; a club which was held in Joon's basement- a restaurant with very few customers. Originally, Fight Club had been something between Johnny and Yuta, something small that would pass the time when they wanted to relieve some stress. It was merely playtime for the two and now it had branched into what it was today.

Yuta continued wrapping his hands in gauze from his last fight. Taeil from one of his previous support groups beat him nasty; blood dripping from the top of the Japanese boy's head as well as a giant cut along the underside of his wrist. It wasn't anything unusual, he had won of course, sending Taeil straight for the floor and knocking out a couple of his teeth. It wasn't the wound that stung, no. It was the jealousy that bubbled in his chest and made way for his throat. Fight Club was never supposed to be this. It should've been just him and Johnny.

"Man. I see in Fight Club the strongest and smartest men who've ever lived. I see all this potential, and I see squandering. Goddamn it, an entire generation pumping gas, waiting tables; slaves with white collars. Advertising has us chasing cars and clothes, working jobs we hate so we can buy shit we don't need. We're the middle children of history, man. No purpose, or place. We have no Great War. No Great Depression. Our Great War's a spiritual war...our great depression is our lives. We've all been raised on television to believe that one day we'd all be millionaires and movie gods and rockstars. But we won't. And we're slowly learning that fact. And we're very very pissed off."

Johnny looked at each man once and then swiveled around and looked at them again. He held eye contact with each and every person so that his words were reaching them on every level possible. He wanted them to feel. To feel the pain of the unforgiving world and the passion for Fight Club. He wanted everyone to praise his words like the Bible and for them to go home later that night with a sense of enlightenment. He wanted Fight Club to be burned into the brains and the skin of these men.

But I am Jack's inflamed sense of rejection.

Yuta barred his teeth from where he was sitting. Johnny had a way with words. Even if he was pissed from their earlier conversation with you in the house, he wasn't showing it. Johnny had stripped him of anger towards himself and provided him with anger towards the movement. Yuta was going to make the best of this club- watching humanity's downfall while he sat from his throne looking out towards everyone's anguish. That was where he belonged, Yuta thought. Not in some corporate office building fetching papers for his boss.

He thought back to his life before Johnny. How he would work his 5-9 job in some shitty little office building with shitty little people with shitty little egos. He remembered what a horrible insomniac he was, sleeping a total of one hour a night- if he was lucky. He remembered going to his support groups just to feel something. To cry on the shoulders of others who were going through unimaginable pain as he cried from his position of perfect health. It was all an effort to sleep at night until he realized that he was spending his days in pain and inflicting pain on others. And he was addicted to it.

You had walked into one of his regular support groups on a Saturday; one of the founders of said group griping about the fact he'd lost his balls to testicular cancer and sobbing up on the rickety podium. You had caught his eye that day- and not just because you were a woman walking into a support group for men with non-functional penises. It was because of the first words to come out of your mouth:

"This is cancer, right?"

You were his downfall. You ruined everything at first. Because you had shown up to his daily pain sessions, he was no longer the black sheep of the group- the only one who was healthy out of a room of dying people. Sure, you were dying, but that was because of the shitty drugs you put into your body and the cigarette that was always hanging out of your mouth. But Yuta realized that his feelings of hatred were actually ones of intense sexual desire.

He'd fucked you later that night anyways.

Or at least, he dreamt about it.

"Who's first?" Johnny asked to no one in particular, awaiting a response from one of the eager men around. This snapped Yuta out of his daze as he looked down at his hands. The gauze was wrapped too tight (probably a direct result of his previous thoughts) and the blood was seeping through the makeshift bandage. Oh well, at least he'd shown Taeil who's club it really was.

The first to agree on fighting was a scrawny looking boy with red and white hair. An odd color combination, but Yuta guessed it framed his face nicely. He had a bunch of piercings along his ear and a determined look on his face. A slight grin showed his confidence as the boy took his shirt off and loosened up his belt.

On the other side of the "ring," there was another boy that radiated an equal amount of confidence but looked a bit skeptical as his eyes landed on the others around the dank basement. He too, removed pieces of his clothing and slicked his blonde hair back from his face.

"Alright, first victims are Taeyong and Hendery. Knock yourselves out.....literally."

Johnny stepped away from them as they collided with one another, blood already dripping from the eyebrow piercing on Hendery's face and a crack coming from Taeyong's finger. Despite this, the boys looked more fiery than ever before as they tackled one another to the ground, ripping out each other's hair and punching each other wherever they could reach. A quick sharp kick to Hendery's groin left him falling to the ground where the other boy found his footing and beat him to a pulp. Not the first fight that ended up in two broken noses, but definitely the first fight to bring this many people together.

And with Taeyong's win, Yuta followed Johnny back home to the abandoned neighborhood they stayed in.

...

Again, it was another night of Yuta lying restless as he listened to your moans coming through the wall separating him and Johnny. Once you had met Johnny all it took was a promise of a new carton of cigarettes to go up to the bedroom with him. This wasn't anything new to Yuta (who did have a crush on you, he was just too afraid to admit it) who heard it every hour of every day; he wondered if you two ever grew bored of slamming the headboard against the wall.

Yuta figured the only thing he could really do in this situation was to go downstairs to the rotting kitchen and make himself a sandwich out of condiments stolen from Joon's and a couple leftover banana peppers from the night before. He pulled his robe over his shoulders and made his way down the decaying hardwood stairs of the mildewed house, making sure not to step on the soggiest part of the floor.

It was cold, but it felt nice after sweating in his blanket just a few minutes before. He opened the door to the fridge and found the pickles as well as the condiments, but his eyes stopped when he spotted some of Johnny's "lab equipment" which consisted of homemade explosives and torture mechanisms. Why they were in the fridge, Yuta didn't know, but he presumed Johnny had a reason. Just as long as he didn't find any Lye in his sandwich.

After making the shittiest thing Yuta had ever eaten in his life (which is saying a lot because he's accidentally eaten literal shit) he made his way upstairs, past the banister and the bathroom with the lonesome bathtub. He was just about to pass Johnny's room when he realized that it had been quiet. For a minute and a half.

Slowly, he opened the door and BANG Johnny walked straight into him wearing nothing but a robe.

"The fuck you doing man? Hey- is that the ketchup I stole from Joon's?"

"Ah shit! Uh I was just making a sandwich is all," he stammered out as he just about dropped the plate. He wasn't going to admit to Johnny that he was looking to see what had gone on with their sexcapade since he'd had a pleasant couple of seconds to himself for the first time since your and Johnny's introduction.

"Hey! I found the cigarettes."

You were high off your ass as you rolled around in Johnny's horribly stained bedsheets, waiting for whatever the holdup was at the door. "Y'all want some?"

"No thanks, Sylvia Plath."

...

Day two of Fight Club commenced in Joon's basement on a spectacularly cold Thursday, when Yuta was supposed to be at work. Instead, he was sitting on one of the empty barrels by the back of the room, watching everything happen before him. Fight Club wasn't just Fight Club anymore. This pain was all normal. It was expected. It wasn't anything different or new like the support groups Yuta had found solace in when he was an insomniac. He could feel the night of restlessness before him.

"Alright men, get your shit together. Today we have someone new joining our group. And, as the rules state, if it's your first night at Fight Club, you have to fight."

Johnny paced the circle of men, gripping onto the loops of his belt to make him look like more of the leader and less of a member. His shoulder length black hair was tied into a ponytail and his muscles were on full display; curtesy of his white slim-fit tee. Yuta would have to agree with you on one thing- Johnny was sexy as fuck. He was a confident bastard, but he understood why you liked someone like him. He was more than Yuta ever could be.

"On one side we have Jaehyun, an undefeated member of our group- not counting me of course."

This granted a couple of chuckles from the back as Yuta waited in anticipation for the newest member to be announced.

"Welcome, Xiaojun. Hope you find happiness getting your brains knocked out in a basement this small."

And standing before Yuta was Xiaojun, a former applicant of the testicular cancer support group, someone whom he had cried on as he wistfully remembered the days before meeting Johnny on a plane (That was a lot to cover into one fanfiction, but if you've seen the movie you'd know what I'm talking about). The days where pain wasn't measured by the amount of people feeling it, and instead was something to pass the time.

The blonde haired boy walked up to Jaehyun and smiled. It wasn't a 'Oh it's so nice to be here I can't wait to fight!' type smile. No, this smile was nothing more than pure malice.

Xiaojun was taking Jaehyun down. Yuta knew it for fact.

"Alright, have at it."

With Johnny's approval, Jaehyun launched for the boy, one arm balled into a fist and the other ready to strike a blow to the stomach. However, Xiaojun cut right across his ribcage and managed to dodge the blow, that shit-eating grin never once leaving his face.

"Ah fuck," Jaehyun clutched his chest as he doubled over in pain. Not allowing for the opponent to get too far though, he got back up on his feet and positioned himself so that he would be ready for another punch.

Jaehyun went in again, this time he was aiming lower to serve as an uppercut, payback for what the fast guy he went against did on his last move. He just about hit Xiaojun when Xiao ducked and rolled along the floor knocking Jaehyun from his position. Jaehyun was on the ground and was pinned there. Now all that was left was the final blow.

Yuta could hear one of the people in the circle mumble "fatality" in reference to Mortal Kombat as Xiaojun beat the shit out of this guy. Blood was going everywhere, nose was most definitely broken, his seemingly perfect face was now most definitely bruised. Hell, this guy would be lucky to even have a few teeth left from what Yuta could gather as he was positioned farther outside of the circle.

"Hey. HEY! RULE THREE BITCHASS!" Johnny's voice brought everyone back down to earth as they realized 'holy shit, Jaehyun is on his way out,' and they scrambled to help him off the floor. Knocked unconscious and bleeding from almost every orifice (except his ass), laid Jaehyun, once a fearless champion amongst the crowd now a bird with clipped wings.

I am Jack's complete lack of surprise.

Yuta caught a glimpse of Xiaojun, seemingly in perfect condition and a clam expression on his face. His eyes were the same though, the same as Johnny's. He was definitely a force to be reckoned with.

...

You couldn't say you were surprised in the least amount with Johnny's sudden outburst. All you had done was talk to him about his selfish ways; and he most definitely was being selfish- one minute he'd be sweet talking you and explaining how you mean the world to him, to changing every topic you brought up and acting like a cocky arrogant asshole. You figured it had something to do with his new "support group" and that Fight Club had left him bipolar. Even the nights you spent fucking him to no end had no resolve on his character and you were starting to grow annoyed with his sudden change of demeanor.

You rolled out of Johnny's bed and made way for the kitchen downstairs. At least most of the men were at Joon's, so you have the house to yourself and Johnny. That's how it usually was anyways. And that's when it hit you: the dress you'd bought a while ago was still upstairs! Maybe you could use it to sway Johnny into a better mood?

Running back to Johnny's room, you slipped on the semi-pink, alcohol stained wedding dress (or what was left of it) over your body frame and took a look in the mirror.

"Huh, not bad."

You had bought the dress because you liked it, of course, not because you originally had the intentions you do now. You didn't usually give a fuck when it came to the opinions of men, so why did his matter so much to you? You frizzled up your hair and rain your hands through the mess and popped an Adderall in your mouth. Hey, you needed something to get by for the day.

You found yourself downstairs, another cigarette in your mouth and a jacket around the exposed sections of your collarbone. Your feet still bare, you entered the dining room that was full of "Johnny's experiments" and you twirled a bit upon finding Johnny sitting in the chair by the table.

"Well," you said, "Do you like it?"

"What am I looking at?"

"The dress, idiot. Do you like the dress?"

He sat there in confusion for minute before he responded with a simple "It's okay."

Why does he always do this? You wondered. He would show you a sweet and loving side to him and then he'd act all coy and nonchalant as if nothing you said had any impact on him. Did he pretend to love you just to fuck you? Did he care about you just so he could have his way with you in bed?

"I got it for a dollar. Imagine- someone bought this dress with the intention that it would be worn on the most important day of their lives. And now, I'm wearing it as business casual."

He ignored you again, sipping on that blasted cup of coffee and looking through ads in the news. His hair was pushed back from his eyes and his brows were furrowed. He had no interest in anything you said.

"Goodbye," you said, and walked out.

"Don't let the door hit you on the way out."

Fuck him

...

(Part Two coming soon!!!!)