I’m so glad you’re back I’ve missed you so much! Would you be able to write a softer angst for Mingi relating to the Taylor Swift song “Style” maybe they were ex lovers or something, I’d just love to see what you’d do!
style — taylor swift
synopsis: you thought time would make it easier, but when he suddenly appeared at your door one late night, the silence between you shattered just as easily as the glass in your hand… and the feelings you both tried to bury come rushing back.
pairings: fem!reader x ex!songmingi
wc: 1.3k
a/n: thank you for the submission! hope you enjoy! :)
eight months.
you couldn’t believe it’s been almost a whole year this time. every night passed with ache, longing, those ‘when will he message’ thoughts.
you felt stupid, trying to pull yourself together but you felt lost without him. nothing about your parting was messy, you thought it would be easy— that maybe this was for the best so he can focus on his career. but it only left you dreaming back to the days you held him, were able to smell his freshly washed hair. and yet that wasn’t even the worst part, everything reminded you of song mingi.
even the bottle of red wine you held in-front of you, a sigh escaping your lips as you poured it while slow music faintly played in the background.
you couldn’t help but meaninglessly scroll through your archived posts, reminiscing too much for your own good. it was long over, why couldn’t your heart accept that?
but then, in that exact second as you zoomed in on the picture of him with his brown hair falling so effortlessly over his forehead, the doorknob jingled.
swaying your head to the side, you shuffled your body toward the front door. as already three glasses of wine down, you tried to maintain your balance.
and then, the door opened, and there he stood— tall, familiar, wearing that same quiet smile that used to undo you in seconds.
the moment your eyes met his, it felt like the air shifted.
mingi stood frozen in the doorway, one hand still resting against the knob like he hadn’t fully decided to come inside yet. the dim hallway light behind him framed his silhouette, broad shoulders filling the doorway in a way that made your chest tighten painfully.
eight months.
eight months of silence, and somehow he was standing in front of you like it had only been a day.
your fingers tightened around the stem of your wine glass.
“mingi…?” his name left your lips before you could stop it, soft and disbelieving.
he exhaled a quiet breath, the corners of his mouth lifting slightly at the sound of it. “hey,” he said.
just that.
just hey.
the same way he used to greet you after long days, like your name was something comfortable sitting on his tongue.
you stared at him, heart beating harder than it had in months. he looked… the same. maybe a little older. a little more tired around the eyes. his hair was darker now, longer than the last time you saw him, strands falling loosely over his forehead just like in the photo you’d been staring at seconds ago.
your throat tightened. for a moment, neither of you spoke. the soft music still played somewhere behind you, the faint hum of the record player filling the silence in the apartment.
mingi’s gaze drifted past you briefly, noticing the bottle of wine on the counter, the three glasses you’d clearly already poured.
a quiet smile tugged at his lips. “three glasses?” he asked gently.
you blinked, following his eyes, “don’t judge me,” you muttered.
“i’m not.” his voice was softer now. familiar. too familiar, your chest ached.
you let out a small breath, turning away from him as you lifted the bottle again, pouring what was left into your glass just to give your hands something to do.
the silence stretched. you could feel his eyes on you. god, you hated that you still knew exactly what that felt like.
“you’ve been drinking alone?” mingi asked quietly.
you shrugged, taking a sip. “it’s my apartment.”
“that wasn’t what i asked.”
your jaw tightened slightly.
“well,” you muttered, setting the bottle down a little harder than necessary, “you weren’t here to drink with me, were you?” the words slipped out before you could stop them.
instantly, the air changed. mingi went still behind you. “i deserved that.” he said after a moment.
you laughed softly, but there was no humor in it. “did you?”
you turned to face him again, the alcohol loosening the restraint you’d spent months building. “because it’s funny,” you continued, voice shaking slightly, “i spent eight months wondering if you’d even remember i existed.”
mingi’s expression fell, “that’s not—”
“eight months, mingi.” the words came out sharper now. “i thought maybe i’d hear from you. a text. a call. anything.” your chest tightened painfully. “but nothing. just… silence.”
mingi dragged a hand through his hair, frustration flickering across his face. “you think i didn’t want to?” he said quietly.
“well you didn’t!” your voice cracked. the glass in your hand trembled slightly.
“do you have any idea what that felt like?” you whispered. “every day wondering if you just… moved on like i never mattered.”
mingi stepped closer, “i never said you didn’t matter.”
“then why did you leave?” you snapped, the question hung heavily between you.
for a moment, mingi didn’t answer— just his jaw clenching slightly.
“you know why,” he said finally.
“say it,” you challenged.
his eyes met yours, “my career,” he said quietly. “everything got too big. i didn’t want you getting dragged into it.”
a bitter laugh escaped you, “so instead you just disappeared?”
“i thought it would make it easier.”
“easier for who?” your voice rose, emotion spilling out faster than you could stop it.
“for you? because it definitely wasn’t easier for me!” your hand moved as you spoke, the glass slipping slightly in your grip.
the next second, the glass shattered, bouncing pieces all around you. the sharp sound echoed through the apartment. for a moment, everything went completely still.
then, “hey—” mingi moved instantly, “are you okay?” he grabbed your wrist gently, turning your hand over quickly, scanning your fingers for any cuts. his brows furrowed in concern as he checked your palm, his touch careful, warm.
“did you cut yourself?”
you shook your head, breathing uneven. “i— i don’t think so.”
he looked closer anyway, thumb brushing lightly against your skin. when he seemed satisfied you weren’t hurt, he let out a small breath, and then he looked up.
your faces were suddenly much closer than either of you had realized. for a moment, neither of you moved. your heartbeat pounded loudly in your ears. mingi’s eyes searched yours slowly, like he was trying to memorize every detail all over again.
something in his expression shifted. before you could even process it, he pulled you toward him.
his arms wrapped around you, strong and familiar, pulling your body against his chest as his lips crashed into yours. the kiss was immediate, desperate.
like eight months of restraint had snapped all at once.
your breath caught as you kissed him back instinctively, hands gripping the front of his shirt as if you were afraid he might disappear again.
he kissed you the way you remembered. deep, certain, warm.
one hand moved to the back of your head, fingers tangling gently in your hair as he pulled you closer. for a moment, the world outside the two of you disappeared. there was only the warmth of his body, the familiar rhythm of his breathing, the way his lips moved against yours like he had never forgotten how— like he never wanted to.
the kiss stretched on, slow and intense, until finally mingi pulled back slightly. your foreheads rested together as both of you tried to catch your breath, his arms were still around you— holding you like he used to.
“im sorry,” he whispered, his voice was barely audible. “i missed you so much.”
your chest tightened again. mingi’s hand lifted, brushing gently along your cheek. “i regret everything,” he murmured softly. “leaving like that… pretending it didn’t hurt.”
his eyes searched yours again. “you have no idea how many times i almost came back.”
his thumb brushed under your eye gently. “i thought letting you go was the right thing.” a sad smile then tugged at his lips. “turns out i was just miserable without you.”
he leaned down slightly, pressing another softer kiss to your lips. “i never stopped thinking about you,” he whispered against them.
synopsis: randomly one late night you were added to the ateez group chat during a truth or dare game. at first it was weird, but soon turned into the best decision ever. friendships bloom, love grows— twists and turns occur. will it end well?
a/n: i’m so glad to be back!! enjoy this shorter chapter while i go over future plans with this series. love you all!! thank you sm for reading :)
series masterlist
it had been a few weeks since the hospital, since the long nights that bled into rehearsals, and the dinner that stitched everyone all back together.
life had, somehow, found rhythm again.
the group was busier than ever, late night rehearsals, choreography changes, press calls, interviews, meetings stacked so tightly there was barely enough time to breathe.
but amidst the chaos, there was laughter again. music again. the steady pulse of something familiar.
and you were right there with them.
if anything, you worked harder than all of them combined. from early mornings reviewing set lists to late nights checking over outfit schedules and backup plans for each city, you refused to slow down.
maybe part of it was guilt. you still remembered the look on their faces that night, the panic, the exhaustion— but another part of it was distraction.
because when you worked, you didn’t have to think.
you didn’t have to think about the hospital bed, seonghwa’s voice... or hongjoong spilling out to his friends that he’s in love with you.
and you definitely didn’t have to think about the ache that lingered between the three of you, unspoken but heavy enough to follow you everywhere you went.
some days were easier. some weren’t.
there were moments… quiet, fleeting ones. like when seonghwa would brush past you on the way out of rehearsal, his hand steadying you by the elbow just a second too long.
then there were moments when hongjoong would lean close while reviewing the stage notes, his voice low, his breath brushing your ear, and you’d feel your heart stutter.
it was maddening.
you told yourself you’d figure it out eventually. that there would come a day when your chest wouldn’t twist every time you looked at either of them.
but that day hadn’t come yet. and now, with the tour looming so close, it felt impossible to even breathe without feeling their gravity pulling at you in two directions.
that afternoon, the practice room buzzed with exhaustion.
the speakers rattled faintly as the last track faded out, leaving the boys scattered across the floor. some were sprawled out, others sitting with their backs against the mirrors, gulping down water and gasping for air.
wooyoung groaned dramatically as a manager worked at the knots in his shoulders. “i swear, if i have to do that move one more time, i’m suing somebody.”
san snorted. “you say that every week.”
“yeah, and one day i might actually mean it,” wooyoung shot back, wincing when the manager pressed too hard on a sore muscle.
laughter rippled through the room, but the weariness underneath it was real.
the tour rehearsals always hit hard— endless choreography reviews, stamina drills, technical cues.
their bodies were already bruised and their throats hoarse, and yet the real journey hadn’t even started.
you sat by the sound table, going over the logistics sheet. your pen tapped rhythmically against the edge of the clipboard.
you tried to focus, but your eyes drifted more than once toward the mirror. where hongjoong was sitting cross legged by the wall, his head bowed over his phone, and seonghwa stretched silently near the door, lost in thought.
there was a tension there. one that hadn’t quite gone away since the night everything fell apart.
“take ten!” hongjoong finally called out, his voice hoarse but firm. the others groaned in relief, scattering for more water bottles and or snacks.
hongjoong rubbed a towel across his neck, the fabric suddenly damp with his sweat. his chest rose and fell heavily as he leaned against the wall, staring out the narrow studio window.
the air inside was thick. too many bodies, too much heat, too much noise.
he needed air.
slipping out quietly, he pushed open the door and stepped into the empty hallway.
the contrast hit him instantly. the quiet, the coolness, the faint hum of the building’s lights. he let his shoulders drop, taking a deep breath and running a hand through his damp hair.
his reflection in the glass caught his attention. he looked tired, pale, but still somehow determined. he didn’t have time to fall apart. not now. not with everything that was coming.
he didn’t hear the door open behind him until a low voice broke the silence.
“hey.”
he turned.
seonghwa stood there, towel slung over his shoulder, eyes calm but cautious. the kind of calm that always came before a storm.
hongjoong exhaled, leaning his back against the wall. “hey.”
for a moment, neither spoke. just the faint echo of muffled laughter from inside the studio, distant and irrelevant compared to the tension that hung in the air between them.
“i apologize.” seonghwa finally said, breaking the silence. “for what happened that day… the punch. i never really came to you and said i’m sorry.”
hongjoong’s jaw tightened, but his voice stayed even. “it’s okay. i said some things i regret too.”
“i know.” seonghwa took a step closer, wiping sweat from his forehead with the towel. “i just—” he paused, searching for the right words. “i want us to be okay, especially with the tour happening soon. we need to be okay. and she’ll be with us… so i don’t want her to see us fighting.”
hongjoong’s gaze softened a little at that. “i know. let’s just… do it for her.”
seonghwa nodded slowly, his shoulders dropping. “right.”
silence again.
he looked down at his hands, then back up, voice quieter this time. “remember how close we used to be? before all of this?” his tone cracked slightly at the end, that vulnerability peeking through his calm exterior.
hongjoong’s throat tightened. he turned away, eyes fixed on some invisible point down the hall. “yeah.” he murmured. “i remember.”
the air between them felt fragile, like glass about to shatter.
seonghwa wanted to say something else— to fix it, to bridge the gap that had grown too wide between them.
“do you think we can ever go back to that?” seonghwa asked calmly.
hongjoong finally looked at him. there was something in his eyes— something sharper than sadness, something colder than regret.
he stepped closer, voice lowering. “seonghwa.”
the other man’s breath caught.
hongjoong’s hand lifted, brushing a stray strand of hair away from seonghwa’s temple before he leaned in, his words barely a whisper.
“i’ll do whatever it takes to have her as mine.”
seonghwa froze.
hongjoong’s tone wasn’t cruel, but it was deliberate. unshakable.
by the time seonghwa blinked, hongjoong had already stepped back, turning away.
his expression was unreadable as he pushed open the studio door and disappeared back inside, leaving the hallway silent once more.
seonghwa stood there, his pulse pounding in his ears.
at first, he wasn’t sure how to feel. shocked, maybe. hurt. then, slowly, anger seeped through the confusion— hot and steady, curling in his chest like smoke.
he had come out here to make peace. to mend things.
but hongjoong had made it clear.
this wasn’t peace. this was war.
back inside, hongjoong’s expression gave nothing away.
the others barely noticed he’d left at all. the music started up again, and he moved through the motions automatically— cueing beats, watching form, adjusting pacing. his focus was locked somewhere far away.
across the room, you caught his reflection in the mirror.
he was quieter than usual. not angry, just… distant. detached.
when the practice wrapped, you lingered by the doorway, waiting for him to finish packing up his things. the others had already headed out, laughing and loud as always.
“you good?” you asked softly.
hongjoong looked up, startled for a moment before managing a small smile. “yeah. just exhausted.”
you didn’t quite believe him, but didn’t push. “yeah, you’ve been working nonstop.”
“so have you.”
“guess that makes two of us.”
you both shared a quiet laugh. the tension now feeling eased.
but out in the hallway, seonghwa watched you through the half open door. the easy way hongjoong leaned closer when you smiled, the quiet fondness in your eyes when you looked at him.
his jaw clenched.
whatever truce he had tried to offer was gone now.
he’d seen what he needed to.
hongjoong might have said he’d do whatever it takes, but seonghwa wasn’t the type to step aside quietly either.
if hongjoong wanted to fight for you… then so would he.
the next few days passed in a blur of movement… rehearsals, fittings, press runs. the tension between the two members simmered just below the surface, invisible to everyone else but undeniable whenever they stood in the same room.
and you, caught somewhere in the middle, felt every bit of it.
you didn’t know what would happen next.
but one thing was certain.
the lines had been drawn.
and eventually, someone was going to have to cross them.
GUYYSSSSSSS!! i am so so sorry for going ghost, these past few months have been pretty crazy for me but i finally feel comfortable enough to settle down and start writing again. i missed you all so deeply! i’ll be sure to read through comments and messages i missed while away ✨✨❤️
synopsis: randomly one late night you were added to the ateez group chat during a truth or dare game. at first it was weird, but soon turned into the best decision ever. friendships bloom, love grows— twists and turns occur. will it end well?
the hours that followed passed in a haze of quiet voices and the faint shuffle of nurses moving in and out of the room.
you didn’t remember falling asleep again, only the warmth of hongjoong’s hand still in yours and the soft hum of his voice when he’d spoken to the doctor.
when you finally woke, the sunset was creeping through the blinds— golden, warm, almost gentle against your face. it didn’t feel harsh like before.
you gazed around the empty room, everyone was gone. you tilted your head, seeing a neatly folded hoodie at the edge of your bed and a note written in familiar handwriting..
“had to step out for rehearsal
enjoy this. stay warm goofy :)”
you smiled faintly, running your thumb over the ink before setting it aside.
the doctor came in a few minutes later, explaining the results in a calm, reassuring tone— exhaustion, dehydration, stress. nothing permanent. just your body finally giving in after too many weeks of pushing past your limits.
by the time you were signing the discharge papers, the hospital felt strangely quiet.
you grabbed your phone from your pocket, everyone had sent messages.
they stacked up on your phone, each one filled with love, relief, and a few jokes that made your eyes sting with warmth.
you put on the hoodie hongjoong had left for you before stepping outside. the air was cool, the sun setting just right, just perfect.
when you got home, the quiet greeted you like an old friend. you dropped your bag near the couch and headed straight for the shower.
hot water poured over your skin, steam filling the small bathroom as you stood there for a long while, letting the heat melt away the weight still clinging to your chest.
it wasn’t the same kind of shower as before— no panic, no trembling hands. just stillness. just you.
you wrapped yourself in a towel, took a slow breath, and when you caught your reflection in the mirror, you looked… lighter. tired, yes— but alive.
by the time you got dressed, the moon had risen, casting a soft whitened glow in your apartment. you should’ve gone to bed, should’ve rested like the doctor said. but something in you itched to move— to see them.
so you grabbed your keys and headed out, driving toward the familiar building that had become their second home, and sometimes, yours too.
the faint bass of music hit you before you even opened the studio door.
you smiled instantly.
inside, the guys were scattered— some dancing, others watching the monitor as the choreography played on repeat. hongjoong stood by the mixing console, his head bobbing slightly to the rhythm as he adjusted a few settings.
san was the first to notice you.
his eyes widened, his jaw dropping before he broke into the brightest grin. “no way… you’re up and walking already?” he shouted over the music, waving his arms dramatically until everyone turned to look.
eight pairs of eyes landed on you.
and just like that, the room filled with warmth again. cheers, laughter, voices overlapping as they rushed over.
yeosang wrapped you in a careful hug, wooyoung ruffled your hair despite your small protest, and jongho half jokingly lifted you an inch off the ground before setting you down with a laugh.
hongjoong hung back for a moment, his expression soft and unreadable. then, when the crowd finally parted— he stepped forward, a small smile curving at the corner of his lips. “you should be resting,” he said gently.
“i wanted to see you guys practicing,” you admitted, the words quiet but true.
san, of course, was quick to fuss. “you shouldn’t even be standing right now—” he started, crossing his arms with mock seriousness. “do you need water? food? a chair? should i get you a blanket? i can literally bring you a whole bed if i have to—”
“san,” yunho laughed, clapping him on the back. “you’re smothering y/n.”
you giggled, shaking your head. “i’m okay, really. just wanted to watch for a bit.”
hongjoong gave you that look, half leader, half friend, all concern. “promise you’ll sit down at least?”
“promise.”
he sighed in relief, pointing toward the couch by the wall. “okay, sit. don’t make me carry you there.”
you laughed, raising your hands in mock surrender as you walked over to the couch. you sank into the cushions, watching as the music started again. the boys moving in perfect synchronization, the room pulsing with energy.
you’d seen them rehearse countless times, but something about this felt different. maybe it was the distance you’d come from— from hospital walls to this, from silence to rhythm.
san caught your eye mid dance and shot you a grin, mouthing something that looked like ‘watch this.’ he twirled smoothly, narrowly missing wooyoung, who yelled in outrage. everyone burst into laughter, the tension breaking instantly.
for a while, it was just like that. light, easy, the kind of warmth that made your chest ache in the best way.
when they finally wrapped up, breathless and glowing with sweat, hongjoong wiped his forehead with a towel and looked at you again. “dinner?” he asked simply.
your stomach growled before you could even answer. that was answer enough.
you all ended up at a small restaurant tucked on a quiet street corner— one of those places you’d been to before, where the staff knew them well enough to smile knowingly when they walked in.
the air was filled with chatter and clinking chopsticks, the kind of background noise that somehow felt healing. you sat between san and yeosang, laughing as wooyoung tried, and failed, to convince the waiter to bring extra kimchi ‘for free, because we’re loyal customers.’
for a while, everything was just laughter and light. san teasing yunho about his dance moves, mingi dramatically reenacting how he found out you fainted ‘i dropped my snack, that’s how shocked i was’ and hongjoong smiling quietly across the table every time your eyes met.
but there was one thing you couldn’t ignore, the subtle tension that lingered in the air whenever seonghwa and hongjoong’s gazes crossed.
it wasn’t hostile, not exactly. just heavy.
like there were words hanging between them that neither wanted to say aloud.
you tried not to dwell on it. you didn’t want to ruin the peace.
then, halfway through dinner, seonghwa looked up from his plate. “y/n,” he said suddenly, his tone softer than usual.
you turned toward him, a little surprised. “yeah?”
he smiled faintly, fingers tapping against the edge of his wine glass. “there’s something we’ve been meaning to tell you… about the next few months.”
everyone quieted down a little. even the usual noise from the table seemed to fade as he continued.
“we’re officially starting our world tour soon.” he said, and though his voice was calm, there was a spark of excitement there. one that made the others smile, nodding along.
your heart swelled instantly. “that’s amazing,” you said, eyes wide. “you guys have been waiting for this.”
seonghwa nodded. “yeah. it’s been in the works for a while, but now it’s finally real. first show starts in about three months.” he paused, eyes flickering toward hongjoong for just a second before returning to you. “and we… want you to come with us.”
you blinked, the words catching you off guard. “wait— what?”
hongjoong leaned forward, elbows on the table. “we talked about it before,” he said quietly. “as part of the team, we want you there… with us.”
your mouth opened, but no words came out. you looked from hongjoong to seonghwa, then to the rest of them— all smiling, all waiting for your reaction.
wooyoung grinned. “come on, say yes. you know you want to.”
san nodded enthusiastically. “we’ll have so much fun. it’s something we want you to experience with us.”
your chest felt tight— not from fear, but from something else. something softer. gratitude, maybe. or the simple realization that you mattered to them.
“i…” you started, your voice trembling slightly. “i don’t even know what to say.”
“say yes,” yunho said with a smile. “that’s what you say.”
you laughed— shaking your head, “of course i’ll say yes.”
the table erupted into cheers— loud, genuine, overlapping laughter that made your cheeks hurt from smiling.
hongjoong’s eyes found yours across the noise. he didn’t say anything, just smiled— small, proud, relieved.
the food came and went, the laughter didn’t stop. you couldn’t remember the last time a night felt this peaceful.
when it was finally time to leave, the city had settled into that quiet hour just before midnight. you stood outside together, the air crisp, the streetlights humming softly.
seonghwa stopped beside you as the others walked ahead, his voice low. “you really worried me y/n, i genuinely thought...” he started, quietly, not quite looking at you.
you glanced up at him. “i’m sorry.”
he shook his head. “just—“ he sighed, eyes finding yours. “i’m here for you too. i know… the truth now and i want you to know you have all the time in the world to decide, don’t rush anything. and don’t let it consume you.”
you batted your eyes, trying to stop a tear from forming. then you smiled gently. “i’ll try not to.”
he looked like he wanted to say something else, but instead he just reached out and squeezed your shoulder lightly before catching up with the others.
you stayed there for a second, watching them all— laughing, talking, alive.
and when hongjoong turned back, motioning for you to come on, you took a slow breath, feeling the weight of the past few days finally start to lift.
you were still tired, still healing.
but surrounded by them, their laughter, their care, their warmth… you knew you’d be okay.
synopsis: randomly one late night you were added to the ateez group chat during a truth or dare game. at first it was weird, but soon turned into the best decision ever. friendships bloom, love grows— twists and turns occur. will it end well?
you felt yourself being shaken awake, hands on your shoulders— voices echoing through the haze in your mind.
“y/n… fuck y/n, hey stay with me.”
the sound was muffled, distant, as if underwater. you blinked, but your vision was nothing but blurry shapes and streaks of color.
your limbs felt impossibly heavy, like you were sinking into the floor. someone’s voice cracked, a yell that sounded like san’s. then another, deep and trembling— hongjoong.
“help me, fuck! pick her up now! hurry!”
you felt hands under your arms, warmth pressed against your skin, the sharp smell of sweat and panic in the air. for a moment, the world tilted sideways, then everything went black again.
when consciousness returned, it was soft and disorienting. the first thing you noticed was the smell. it was clean, sterile, and cold. then came the hum of a machine somewhere to your left, slow and rhythmic, keeping time with the faint beeping that echoed in the room.
your eyelids fluttered open, squinting against the dim light above you. the ceiling was white. the air felt too still.
for a few seconds you didn’t understand where you were, or why your arm felt so heavy. then your gaze shifted down, and you saw the iv line taped to your skin, the monitor by your bed blinking steadily.
you tried to sit up, but before you could even lift your shoulder— a gentle hand pressed flat against your chest.
“don’t move,” came a low voice.
your eyes darted to the side, and there was seonghwa.
he looked exhausted. his usually neat hair was messy, a few strands falling across his forehead. his eyes were ringed with shadows, his posture rigid like he hadn’t relaxed in hours.
he was still wearing the same clothes from before, but now wrinkled, the collar slightly undone.
“seonghwa…?” your voice cracked, barely a whisper.
he exhaled, like hearing your voice was enough to release a weight off his shoulders. “yeah, it’s me.”
your eyes scanned the room. on the small couch nearby, you saw hongjoong slumped sideways, his head resting on his arm, and san curled up on the edge, both fast asleep. the sight made something in your chest ache.
“just… relax, okay?” seonghwa said softly, bringing his chair closer to your bed. “you’ve got some wires and monitors on you. you don’t want to pull anything out.”
“i…what happened?” you asked weakly, eyes darting between him and the machines. “why am i…”
he reached forward before you could finish, taking your trembling hand in his. “you passed out,” he said carefully. “hongjoong and san found and brought you here. you scared the hell out of us y/n.”
your throat tightened. you didn’t remember much, just flashes— hongjoong yelling, san’s voice, the rush of air as everything went dark. panic started to rise in your chest, your breath coming shorter.
“i don’t—” you began, but your voice broke. your vision blurred again, not from dizziness this time, but from tears.
“hey, hey…” seonghwa murmured, immediately leaning closer. his hand came up to cradle the back of your head, the warmth of his palm grounding you. “don’t cry, it’s okay. you’re okay now.”
but you couldn’t stop. the tears spilled faster, your shoulders trembling despite your best effort to stay quiet. you bit down on your lip, trying not to make noise. trying not to wake the others.
of course. you always did that. cared about everyone else before yourself. even now, lying in a hospital bed with tubes in your arm, your first instinct was silence.
seonghwa pulled you into his arms, careful of the wires, his hand rubbing gentle circles on your back.
“you’ll be okay.” he whispered into your hair. “i promise. the doctor will be back soon to tell us everything, but… just breathe right now, okay?”
his voice cracked slightly near the end. and then, barely audible, he said it. words that hung between you like a confession and a wound.
“i love you,” he whispered. “i’m sorry for just leaving, i should’ve checked on you.”
you froze. his words hit your chest like a shock, making your breath stutter. but before you could say anything, before you could even look at him properly…
the door opened.
mingi stepped in quietly, eyes wide the moment he saw you awake. “you’re up,” he said, relief washing over his face.
seonghwa quickly straightened, stepping away and turning toward the window. his shoulders were stiff, his hand going up to subtly wipe at his eyes.
mingi glanced between you both but didn’t ask. instead, he smiled softly and came closer, his big frame somehow both clumsy and gentle as he reached for your hand. “i’m glad you’re awake,” he said warmly. “the doctors ran a few tests, but they should be back soon.”
you nodded slowly, trying to find your voice. “i’m sorry.” you whispered, the words barely leaving your lips.
mingi laughed quietly, shaking his head. “don’t apologize. you’re a badass, remember? don’t forget that.”
the sound of his laugh, light and familiar— made you exhale shakily, a small, choked giggle escaping through the tears. “you always say that.”
“because it’s true,” he grinned, then tilted his head. “you want me to call the others in? they’re all outside, sleeping in the hallway like a bunch of puppies.”
you hesitated. the last thing you wanted was to wake them after everything. “no, it’s okay. let them sleep.”
from the couch, san stirred, his voice groggy but still cheerful. “they’d want to see you.” he mumbled, sitting up and rubbing his eyes.
when he noticed your gaze on him, his sleepy expression broke into a grin. “hey… there’s that smile. knew you couldn’t stay down for long.”
“okay,” you said quietly, finally relenting.
mingi smiled knowingly and slipped out of the room.
a few minutes later, the door opened again, and suddenly, the quiet hospital room was full of warmth.
yeosang was the first to reach you, his usual calm breaking into visible relief. he placed a careful hand on your arm. “we’re all here for you.” he said softly.
“no matter what y/n.” wooyoung added from beside him, his voice wobbly despite the small smile on his face.
yunho was the last to lean in, brushing a strand of hair off your forehead with his big hand. “i’m glad you’re awake dummy,” he teased, though his voice cracked slightly at the end.
that made everyone laugh, including you. the sound filled the room, shaky but genuine.
then you heard movement behind them.
hongjoong.
he had stirred at the sound of laughter, eyes fluttering open. the moment he saw you, he shot to his feet, nearly tripping over the edge of the couch. “y/n,” he breathed, his voice breaking. “you’re awake…”
the room fell quiet. the boys exchanged knowing looks before jongho spoke up first. “let’s give them a minute.”
one by one, they filtered out. seonghwa hesitated at the door, his hand lingering on the handle for a moment before he finally followed the others, leaving just you and hongjoong in the dim light.
he stood there for a long moment, like he couldn’t quite believe it. his eyes traced over your face, your hand, the wires on your arm. “i’m so glad you’re okay.” he said finally, voice raw.
you smiled faintly, trying to lighten the heaviness that hung in the air. “well… we don’t know that yet.” you joked, forcing a small laugh.
he let out a shaky chuckle, rubbing the back of his neck. “you’d still make jokes in a hospital bed. of course you would.”
“somebody has to.” you said softly, watching the way his lips curved despite the exhaustion in his eyes.
he stepped closer, sitting down on the edge of the bed. you could see his hands trembling slightly as he reached out, brushing a stray strand of hair from your face. his touch was so gentle it made your heart twist.
“it’s my fault.” he murmured after a pause, his voice breaking with the weight of it. “all this stress, everything you’ve been carrying. i should’ve helped more.”
you frowned, shaking your head weakly. “joong, stop. this isn’t your fault.”
he looked down, his fingers tightening around yours. “you don’t understand. i saw you on the floor y/n. you weren’t breathing right. you didn’t move. i thought—” he broke off, squeezing his eyes shut, jaw tight. “i thought i lost you.”
you felt a lump rise in your throat. “hey,” you said softly, tugging his hand just enough to make him look at you. “but you didn’t. i’m right here. i’m okay.”
his eyes glistened. “you always say that.” he whispered. “even when you’re not.”
you didn’t know what to say. the silence stretched between you, filled only by the quiet beeping of the heart monitor.
finally, you sighed. “you can’t take care of everyone all the time.” you said gently. “you already do so much. you can’t blame yourself for me. that’s not fair, to you or to me.”
he blinked at you, the corner of his mouth twitching into a sad smile. “you sound like san.”
you laughed weakly.
hongjoong’s shoulders shook with a quiet laugh, but then he leaned forward, his forehead resting lightly against the back of your hand. the contact made your heart skip.
“i don’t know what i’d do if something happened to you.” he said quietly.
you felt your breath hitch. “nothing did,” you whispered. “and nothing will. you said it yourself, remember? i’m stubborn.”
that made him laugh softly, his breath warm against your skin. “yeah. the most stubborn person i know.”
for a moment, the world seemed to pause around you both. the hospital lights hummed quietly, the faint rhythm of your heartbeat steady on the monitor beside you.
the two of you sat like that for a long time. no words, no pressure. just the quiet comfort of being near each other again. eventually, his hand came up, his thumb tracing over your wrist, following the steady pulse beneath your skin.
“see?” you said, nodding toward it. “still beating.”
he smiled, eyes soft. “yeah. and i hope it stays that way for a long, long time.”
you felt warmth spread through your chest, the kind that eased all the lingering fear that had been gripping you since you’d opened your eyes.
“thank you,” you whispered.
“for what?”
“for staying. for being here.”
he shook his head, leaning back just enough to look at you properly. “there’s nowhere else i’d rather be.”
your heart fluttered at the honesty in his tone. you didn’t know what to say so instead, you just reached out and took his hand again, holding it tight.
for once, the silence wasn’t heavy. it was peaceful.
you drifted half asleep again a little while later, still holding onto him, his thumb brushing over your knuckles in slow, steady circles.
and when the doctor finally came in, hongjoong didn’t move, didn’t let go.
hi angels!! i’ve been getting a lot of requests lately, and i just want to say thank you so much! if you have requested, i will try my best to get it out to you soon. but i am very busy this week and heavily focusing on getting the next few teez + 1 chapters done! pls be patient and i promise i will do them!
Hey... So I got a request (never did one, but I love ur writing style a lot so I just had to)
Soft dom Yeosang, getting jealous over f!reader being hit on by the waiter, while they're on an anniversary date. Since he's not too confident in public, he doesn't say much besides subtly shooing the waiter away and giving him a constant glare. On the other hand, on the way back he makes it very obvious that he got jealous.
Idk I just crave jealous Dom!yeosang🫠 I don't mind it being fluff or smut, up to you
kang yeosang ; anniversary
synopsis: after a long night of tension, jealousy— yeosang couldn’t resist but show you exactly who you belong to.
pairings: dom!yeosang x subfem!reader
cw: smut, unprotected sex, praising kink
wc: 1.7k
a/n: tysm for the request this idea is so sexy😌 i haven’t wrote smut in a little so i’m sorry if this isn’t the best!! DOM KANG YEOSANG LOVERS UNITEEEE
the restaurant was dim and warm, all candlelight and quiet chatter, but yeosang’s eyes are somewhere else entirely— fixed on the waiter who’s been hovering a little too long.
you can feel it the second the man leans in to refill your glass, his smile a little too casual, his tone too smooth. it’s harmless, really, but you see the subtle change in yeosang’s posture.
the way his shoulders stiffen, the faint twitch of his jaw. he doesn’t say a word, just reaches forward and slides your glass closer to himself as if to create a small barrier.
“thank you.” you said to the waiter, and he flashed another smile before walking off.
yeosang watched him leave. he didn’t blink until the man disappeared behind the kitchen doors. then slowly, his gaze shifted back to you.
“you always attract attention,” he murmured, the corner of his mouth lifting— though it’s not quite a smile. his hand reached across the table, brushing against yours. “guess i should’ve expected that.”
you laughed softly, trying to ease the sudden weight in his tone. “he was just doing his job baby.”
“mhm.” he hummed, unconvinced. his thumb circled your wrist, his expression unreadable under the low light. “he looked a little too eager for a waiter.”
the conversation moved on, or at least you tried to move it, but the tension never really left. every time the waiter came back to check on drinks, to clear plates— yeosang’s eyes followed, sharp and silent.
he didn’t speak up, didn’t make a scene, but the message was there in the small gestures. the protective lean of his body, the subtle way he shifted his chair closer to yours, his hand resting possessively on the back of your seat.
when the dessert finally arrived, yeosang’s tone softened again, but there was still something simmering beneath it.
you could hear it even when he laughed with you, quiet and deep— like he’s holding something back.
the drive home was mostly silent. the city lights flashed across his face, highlighting the tension that never quite left his features.
you glanced over at him. “you’ve been quiet.”
he exhaled through his nose, not taking his eyes off the road. “just thinking.”
“about?”
his lips twitched. “that waiter.”
you bit your lip, fighting a smile. “still on that?”
he glanced at you then— a look that’s more a warning than a question. “you think i didn’t notice the way he looked at you?” his tone wasn’t angry, just low, edged with something possessive. “i don’t like people thinking they can talk to you like that.”
“you’re jealous.” you teased gently.
“maybe.” he doesn’t even deny it. “can you blame me?”
the car filled with quiet again, but this time it felt charged. you can feel his gaze flick toward you at every red light, his fingers tightening slightly around the steering wheel.
by the time you pulled into the driveway, your pulse had already picked up.
inside, the house felt different— quieter, darker, the air heavier than when you left.
you set your bag down on the counter, about to say something, but yeosang stepped in close behind you before you can.
his voice was low, right by your ear. “you don’t even realize what you do to people, do you?”
goosebumps raised on your skin, from his hot breath fanning out onto your neck. you turned slightly, your breath catching when you see his expression— still calm, but his eyes darker now. focused.
“i— it wasn’t—”
“i know.” he cuts in softly. “i know you didn’t do anything.” his hands found your waist, steady but deliberate. “doesn’t mean i liked watching someone else try.”
the silence that followed was thick.
you tried to speak, but he tilted your chin up gently, forcing you to meet his gaze. “he wasn’t the one sitting with you at dinner,” he said, voice even lower now. “he wasn’t the one you came home with.”
the words lingered, heavy and certain. you can hear your own heartbeat in the quiet space between you both.
his thumb brushed along your jaw, slow, deliberate. “you have no idea how hard it was not to say something back there.”
your lips parted, but the look in his eyes made you forget what you were going to say.
he stepped closer, closing the distance until there was nothing left between you, but the air you’re both breathing.
the tension that had been simmering all night finally started to crack— not with anger, but something else entirely.
“yeosang…” you whispered, but the sound barely made it out.
his voice dropped again, rougher now. “you have no idea what you do to me.”
the words hung there for a long moment, charged and quiet, before he leaned down just enough that his forehead rested against yours— not a kiss, not yet, just that close.
you can feel the energy shift, the question hanging between you, waiting.
and then he moved swiftly— his strong, muscular, arms sliding around you, pulling you off the ground with a quiet strength that makes your breath catch.
you can hear the faint scrape of his shoes against the floor as he carried you toward the bedroom, every step deliberate, controlled.
the dark of the room swallowed everything— the faint sound of your breath, the creak of the floorboards— until it’s just him and you and the sound of your heartbeat against his.
he set you down on the edge of the bed, eyes locked on yours. the weight of everything unsaid filled the space between you.
yeosang leaned in, hands placed on either sides of you. his tone low, almost a whisper now— calm, but threaded with that same intensity you’d seen flicker in the restaurant.
“now,” he murmured, his gaze flicking to your lips, “tell me i’m wrong for wanting to remind you who you belong to.”
and the air stilled right at that edge, that point of no return.
“answer me, sweetheart.” his fingertips found your bottom lip, gently caressing.
“n—no…”
he let out a low, guttural chuckle, “stand up.” he ordered, his tone steady and demanding.
you obeyed, afraid of what he’d do if you didn’t— although, you were quite enjoying this. as you stood up, he approached your quivering figure. “turn around.”
again, you obeyed. your body was already shaking. whenever yeosang got jealous or angry with you, he’d never yell— he wasn’t that type of man. but, he was the type of man to make you his fuck toy to release all his frustration into.
he placed his vein pumped hands onto your back, forcing you to bend over the bed— face pushed against the silk, bed covers.
he gently lifted up your dress, “you look so pretty bent over like this baby, don’t you think?” his voice rung deep and sharp throughout your ears, as his hands now roamed over your plump arched ass.
you squeezed your eyes tight, the sensation already overwhelming. he always knew the ways to make you tighten up. he knew your body like the back of his hand.
“hmm i can’t hear you darling…” he practically purred.
then, the sound cracked through the air. it was sharp, startling. heat rose on your ass cheek— his hand print bright and red.
you let out a sharp moan, back arching more than before.
“answer me,” he hissed.
“yes!”
“that’s my good girl.” he rubbed the part of your skin that was just spanked, relieving the pain.
your body trembled further, sinking into the mattress.
“you want me inside you, don’t you?” yeosang groaned, his grip now around your waist— getting tighter by the second as his desires are ready to break free from the box he’s had them in all night.
“yes!” you somehow managed to mumble out, so innocently. your face sunk deeper into the mattress.
he swiftly unbuckled his belt, the echo sending shivers down your spine. the swooshing sound of the belt being torn off reverberated in the dark, muffled room.
without warning, yeosang pushed your panties to the side, the tip of his cock teasing your pulsating, wet hole.
“beg for it… show me you can be a good girl, and obey.” his hands moved to your luscious stands of hair, grabbing a handful before tugging sharply.
your breath hitched, knees already buckling. your heat growing wetter by the second his dominance grew.
“please… please fuck me.” you nearly panted out, looking like a mess— a slut ready to be demolished and disciplined.
“good job baby, you’re already doing so well.”
he pushed himself fully into your throbbing hole, your wetness soaking his cock completely. you both synchronized a deep, whiney moan— as if you craved this moment all night.
he thrusted hard, and fast— making sure you felt him filling you.
yeosang’s praises already pushed you pretty far, and now the fact his cock was hitting your g-spot, over, and over again— only pushed you over the edge.
he kept his strokes controlled, deliberate. and that only ruined you more.
you nibbled on the bedsheets, trying to cover up your whimpers. he intentively hooked his hand around your wrists, pulling them up onto your lower back.
“don’t hide them, i want to hear your beautiful sounds my sweet baby.” he condescendingly said. with his free hand, he tugged your hip down harder onto his cock.
yeosang’s praises were really doing a number on you. you melted down slowly, whimpers and messy moans releasing from your precious lips.
he couldn’t help but chuckle lowly as he calculated his strokes.
he knew you were close.
so close to letting loose.
and he loved the fact he could do that, make you come completely undone— underneath him.
he didn’t stop, not for a single second. you were a moaning mess, practically sobbing. your hands curled into the sheets.
“yeosang— p— please—“ your voice cried out.
“squirt all on my cock baby, go ahead, do it for daddy.”
it was like you were under a spell, squirting on his command. he purred as he then filled your hole with his load— warming up your insides completely.
yeosang’s lips hovered over your back, before leaving wet, passionate kisses. “you’re mine. only fucking mine.”
happy 7th anniversary to my literal life savers. i’ve been by your side for five years now, which seems so unreal like hello?? wasn’t it just yesterday i was trying to tell yunho and jongho apart??? i can literally cry thinking about it. they have changed me as a person and my words can’t describe my deep ass love for them. cheers to many more years my teez 🏴☠️💌 - atiny
synopsis: randomly one late night you were added to the ateez group chat during a truth or dare game. at first it was weird, but soon turned into the best decision ever. friendships bloom, love grows— twists and turns occur. will it end well?
the hum of the car engine filled every inch of silence that no one dared to break. streetlights slipped across the windows in thin streaks, cutting through the dark interior like slow, pulsing heartbeats.
you sat in the back seat, pressed between wooyoung and san, the faint scent of funnel cake and sweat still clinging to your clothes. no one spoke. not even wooyoung, who usually couldn’t stand silence for longer than thirty seconds.
hongjoong was behind the wheel. his knuckles were white against the steering wheel, his eyes fixed hard on the road ahead. mingi sat in the passenger seat, slouched low, glancing between him and the window like he couldn’t decide which one was safer to look at.
every few minutes, the gps chimed quietly, rerouting through the city streets, a soft mechanical voice that only made the silence heavier.
you could feel the tension radiating off everyone. it wasn’t just anger. it was something rawer— guilt, shock, confusion. the kind of silence that didn’t just fill space, it pressed down on it.
wooyoung shifted beside you, his knee bouncing nervously. “so…” he said finally, voice quiet. “we’re… all alive. that’s good.”
no one replied.
“cool. yeah. great talk.” he muttered, sinking back into his seat.
you kept your eyes on the faint reflection of yourself in the car window. the flicker of neon signs and headlights catching in your expression. you looked exhausted, hollow. the kind of tired that didn’t come from the day, but from everything before it.
every time you blinked, you saw flashes of it again. seonghwa’s fist, the sound of impact, the look on hongjoong’s face after.
and his voice. the way it trembled when he said he couldn’t pretend anymore.
the words echoed in your head, looping endlessly.
no one said anything else until the car pulled into hongjoong’s driveway.
when the engine shut off, the silence shifted from heavy to deafening.
the click of seatbelts unbuckling sounded too loud. doors opened. feet hit the pavement.
you followed the others out, the night air cold against your skin.
seonghwa’s location still showed on wooyoung’s phone, he’d already made it home. the fact that he’d left without saying a word, without even checking if you were okay, made something inside you twist.
you all walked up the steps to hongjoong’s apartment in silence.
inside, the lights were dim. the air smelled faintly of candle wax and cologne, something comforting but painfully out of place after everything that had just happened. shoes scattered by the door, jackets half draped over chairs.
no one knew what to do with themselves.
mingi mumbled something about needing to get home and left first. some of the others followed soon after.
but san, jongho, and wooyoung were left lingering awkwardly in the living room while you hovered by the hallway, too drained to move, too curious to leave.
hongjoong tossed his keys on the counter, rubbing at his jaw absently. the cut had stopped bleeding, but the skin there was swollen, red. he hadn’t looked at anyone since you got back.
wooyoung exhaled sharply, crossing his arms. “okay. i can’t take this anymore. what the hell was that?”
hongjoong didn’t answer. he walked to the kitchen, filled a glass with water, and drank half of it like he could wash the night out of his system.
“hyung,” san’s voice was firm, demanding. “you can’t just pretend that didn’t happen. he hit you…in front of everyone.”
hongjoong set the glass down hard, the sound sharp in the quiet. “i’m aware.”
“then talk to us.” jongho said quietly, standing a few feet away. “what happened? why did you two start fighting?”
hongjoong’s shoulders tensed. he stared at the counter for a long time, his breath coming out slow, deliberate. “it doesn’t matter.”
“of course it matters!” wooyoung snapped, stepping forward. “do you have any idea what that looked like? everyone was staring, she was standing right there—”
he stopped himself before saying more, but it was too late.
hongjoong looked up sharply, eyes flashing. “yeah, i know she was standing right fucking there.”
the room went still again.
san exchanged a glance with wooyoung, his expression softening just slightly. “joong… we’re not trying to attack you. we just need to understand.”
he let out a humorless laugh. “understand what? that i let my emotions get the best of me? that i couldn’t keep my mouth shut?” he rubbed a hand over his face, the exhaustion finally seeping through his tone. “that’s all it is.”
“no,” wooyoung said quietly now. “that’s not all it is.”
hongjoong froze.
“you’ve been different…” wooyoung continued, his voice steady but gentle. “not just today. every time she walks into the room, you can tell. you can see it.”
hongjoong didn’t reply, but the flicker in his eyes was enough.
san spoke next, cautious but firm. “you like her.”
it wasn’t a question.
hongjoong’s silence said everything.
you stood in the hallway, heart in your throat, barely daring to breathe. the distance between you and the living room was small, but it felt miles wide.
wooyoung let out a slow exhale, shaking his head. “that fight was because of her, wasn’t it?”
hongjoong laughed under his breath, bitter and low. “you want the truth? fine.”
he turned, bracing his hands on the counter behind him, eyes flicking up toward them. there was no pretense left, no calm composure. just the raw edge of someone who’d finally run out of ways to hide.
“i’m in love with her.”
the words hung in the air, sharp and final.
no one moved.
san blinked, jaw tightening slightly, while wooyoung’s mouth opened like he wanted to say something but couldn’t find the words.
jongho stayed silent, watching him carefully.
hongjoong’s chest rose and fell unevenly. “you want to know why i snapped? why i said those things?”
he gave a shaky laugh, pushing off the counter and pacing a few steps. “because i couldn’t stand there and pretend it didn’t kill me seeing them together. the way he looks at her like she’s his to lose, like he hasn’t already done enough.”
he ran a hand through his hair, voice breaking slightly. “and yeah, i said too much. i shouldn’t have said what i did. but god… every time i see them, it feels like i’m being gutted from the inside out.”
san stepped closer. “you really love her that much?”
hongjoong looked up at him, eyes burning. “i don’t just love her, san. i need her.”
you felt your breath hitch.
“she doesn’t even have to say, or do anything.” he continued, his tone rising with every word. “just being near her… it’s like everything else stops mattering. the music, the work, the exhaustion. none of it compares. and i tried so hard to bury it, to convince myself i could handle it if she chose him. but when i saw them today…”
he trailed off, swallowing hard.
“it did something to me.”
wooyoung rubbed the back of his neck, eyes wide. “joong…”
he laughed again, bitter. “don’t look at me like that. i know it’s messy. i know i shouldn’t have said what i said. but i can’t keep pretending i don’t feel this way. i can’t keep stepping back like i’m doing the right thing when all i’m doing is killing myself a little more every day.”
wooyoung looked conflicted, glancing toward the hallway without realizing you were standing just beyond it. “but what about seonghwa? you two—”
“i’ll talk to him.” hongjoong interrupted, his voice sharp again. “i’ll fix it if i can, but i’m done pretending. i love her… and i’m not apologizing for it.”
no one said anything.
the room felt heavy with everything left unsaid, the air charged and fragile.
you stood there in the shadows of the hallway, your hand pressed to your chest as if that would steady it.
san quietly sat beside hongjoong, a silent kind of understanding passing between them. wooyoung looked down, running his thumb over the hem of his sleeve, face drawn with worry.
no one noticed you standing there in the dim hallway light, motionless, unseen.
hongjoong exhaled one last time, his voice low, barely above a whisper. “i don’t know what will happen, i just know i can’t lose her.”
the room fell quiet again.
you turned slowly, heart heavy and trembling, and walked down the hall toward the door.
the weight of his words followed you, echoing in every step.
the whole drive home felt like a blur. when you finally pulled into your driveway, the world was too quiet. the air was cool against your skin as you stepped out,
inside, the house was dark. you didn’t bother turning on the lights. the silence was loud enough.
you moved on instinct. shoes off, hoodie off, your phone slipping somewhere onto the couch. none of it mattered.
you just needed the noise in your head to stop.
the bathroom light flicked on, harsh and too bright. you turned the shower handle until steam began to fill the air, the mirror fogging around your reflection.
you didn’t recognize the person staring back. eyes red, cheeks streaked from earlier tears, mouth trembling like you were holding in another breakdown.
you stepped under the water anyway.
it was hot, almost scalding, but you didn’t move away. you let it run down your shoulders, over your face, soaking through your hair until everything blurred.
and then you broke.
the first sob came out sharp, torn straight from your chest. then another. and another. until you weren’t even breathing right anymore, just shaking, your hands gripping the edge of the tile wall like it was the only thing keeping you upright.
you didn’t know how long you cried for.
minutes. hours. maybe both.
all you knew was that your body ached, your throat burned, and the water had turned lukewarm long before you could make yourself turn it off.
when you finally did, the quiet felt wrong. like it had swallowed the sound of your crying and kept it.
you wrapped yourself in a robe, the fabric clinging to your damp skin, and stumbled out of the bathroom. your reflection trailed in the fogged mirror behind you, a ghost version of yourself you didn’t want to look at.
the floor felt cold under your feet as you made your way toward the kitchen. you didn’t even know why. maybe you just needed to move, to do something. anything that didn’t involve thinking.
the hum of the refrigerator filled the space, soft and constant. you leaned against the counter, staring blankly at the sink, your breath uneven.
you opened a cabinet, searching for that easy distraction.
vodka. perfect.
you screwed off the cap in one swift movement, taking gulp, after gulp— until it burned. yet you didn’t care. you didn’t care as long as it dulled this ache clawing at your chest.
your hands trembled on the bottle as you slid down to the floor, the cool tile pressing against your legs, you pulled your robe tighter around you.
you tried to breathe through it, but your chest only tightened more. the sobs came back, harsh and unsteady, until you couldn’t tell if you were crying from heartbreak or from the exhaustion that had finally caught up to you.
you pressed your forehead to your knees, whispering something between a plea and a curse that no one could hear.
“i can’t do this anymore.”
the words came out cracked, barely audible, but they were true.
because no matter how many times you told yourself you’d stop caring, stop getting hurt, stop choosing the people who made you feel too much… you never did.
you always felt everything too deeply.
your body began to tremble from the cold and the weight of it all. the robe wasn’t warm enough, the room wasn’t quiet enough, and your thoughts were too loud.
you leaned your head back against the cabinet, throat burning from yet another swig of the vodka.
you closed your eyes.
and for the first time in a long time, you didn’t fight the exhaustion.
synopsis: randomly one late night you were added to the ateez group chat during a truth or dare game. at first it was weird, but soon turned into the best decision ever. friendships bloom, love grows— twists and turns occur. will it end well?
multiple part series— enjoy the ride!
tag list: @spiderfae03 @lyracarvahall @mxnsxngie @mrsminseochoi @kiwininja35 @chalamazed4life @mairewrites @fumaluvr
series masterlist
the sun had started to dip low, melting gold into the horizon, and the air had softened into that perfect kind of warmth that made everything feel hazy.
the park was alive. laughter, the hum of rides, and the distant clang of games all blending together in a comforting sort of chaos.
you sat with wooyoung on a bench, the shade from a red umbrella flickering across your face as you held a melting ice cream cone.
it should’ve been a good moment, simple, easy— but your chest was still heavy, full of everything you were trying not to feel.
wooyoung was halfway through his second cone, already covered in chocolate smudges. he looked at you, squinting. “you look like you’re plotting something, or dying inside. which is it?”
you snorted softly, licking your cone. “neither.”
“uh huh.” he said, unconvinced. “you’ve been like this all day. and don’t pull that ‘i’m just tired’ bullshit you only say when you’re avoiding something.”
you rolled your eyes, licking at the dripping side of your cone. “you’re reading too much into it.”
“nope.” wooyoung said immediately, sitting up straight. “i’ve been watching you. you keep looking at seonghwa like you’re trying to remember how to breathe, and at hongjoong like you’re afraid to.”
you froze. “what—“
he waved a finger. “don’t even bother denying it. you think i haven’t noticed? please. i’ve known since day one.”
“known what?” you asked quietly.
“about seonghwa. you two had that… thing that started at the party forever ago. then that tension that made everyone else uncomfortable but also kind of entertained? yeah.” he laughed to himself.
and then he continued, “but then hongjoong—” he made a vague hand gesture, “decided to start acting like he doesn’t care while very clearly caring too much.”
you looked down, the world suddenly too bright. “it’s… a lot.”
“oh of course it is.” he said, laughing softly. “it’s you. but listen, you don’t need to punish yourself for feeling things. you didn’t ask for this, it just happened. you’re not wrong for feeling confused.”
you looked up at him, surprised at the sudden shift in his tone.
“sometimes,” he continued, “people show up in your life and mess everything up in the best and worst ways. you don’t owe anyone a perfect version of yourself. just… don’t disappear on us again, okay dummy?”
you smiled faintly, heart easing a little. “when did you get so wise?”
“oh please.” he smirked. “i’m the emotional core of this group. no one gives me enough credit.”
you laughed, like really laughed for the first time in weeks. “thank you, woo.”
he grinned, standing and tossing his napkin into the trash. “anytime. now let’s go before mingi wins another giant bear and tries to stuff it in the trunk again.”
you stood beside him, your chest lighter. the noise of the park filled the space between you— easy, warm, alive. for a second, it almost felt normal again.
until shouting split the air.
wooyoung froze, eyes narrowing. “was that—?”
“hongjoong.” you whispered.
without another word, you both ran.
the sounds grew clearer— sharp, angry voices cutting through the cheerful music of the park. when you rounded the corner near the wave pool, your breath caught.
seonghwa and hongjoong stood facing each other, tension radiating between them like heat. the rest of the group hovered nearby, all clearly unsure whether to intervene.
“you think you can just act like this and no one notices?” seonghwa snapped, voice breaking with emotion. “you’ve been staring all day, hongjoong. what’s your problem?”
hongjoong’s hands curled into fists at his sides, his jaw set tight. “my problem is that you don’t know when to stop.”
seonghwa scoffed, stepping forward. “stop what? talking to her? touching her? making her laugh? being there when you couldn’t be?”
“don’t fucking twist this hwa, i was there for her, especially when you weren’t— not in the way that she wanted.” hongjoong bit back.
his voice was low but seething. “you know what this is doing to her, and you don’t care. you can’t stand her being happy unless it’s with you.”
the air suddenly stilled.
you felt your stomach drop, the words slicing clean through the noise around you.
seonghwa’s eyes darkened, the kind of hurt that didn’t have anywhere to go except out. “say that again.” he warned, his tone dangerously quiet— moving closer towards hongjoong.
hongjoong met his glare head on. “you heard me asshole.”
that was it.
seonghwa swung before anyone could move, the sound of his fist connecting with hongjoong’s jaw echoing through the air.
hongjoong stumbled back, one hand pressed to his face, eyes flashing with equal parts of pain and disbelief.
“seonghwa!” san lunged forward, grabbing him from behind, while mingi and yeosang stepped between them.
hongjoong wiped his lip, red smearing against his skin, but he didn’t hit back. his chest rose and fell sharply as he muttered, “you shouldn’t have done that.”
“you shouldn’t have said that.” seonghwa shot back, voice cracking. “you don’t get to act like you’re protecting her when you’re the one who keeps hurting her.”
you stood frozen, everything was spinning. you couldn’t move, couldn’t think— only hear your heart pounding in your ears.
hongjoong’s eyes flicked to you then, just once, and whatever anger was there melted into something far more complicated— regret, longing, heartbreak.
it was too much.
before anyone could reach for you, you turned and ran.
wooyoung called your name behind you, his voice full of panic, but it was all a blur. the lights, the sounds, the smell of popcorn… everything smeared together as tears stung your eyes and your chest ached.
you just needed to get away. away from all of it— from them, from the truth hanging heavy in the air, from the fact that no matter who was right or wrong… it was already too late.
today was supposed to help, to finally just feel normal again. but we all knew deep down ‘normal’ wasn’t going to happen.
you didn’t know how long you’d been running, but by the time you finally slowed— the air had cooled. it was touched with that faint salt and sugar scent that clung to every amusement park.
you found yourself behind a closed food stand, tucked away near the edge of the parking lot. the golden sky had deepened into bruised pink and soft lavender, the hum of the park now distant, like a memory you couldn’t quite hold onto.
you braced your hands on your knees, gasping for air. your heartbeat thundered against your ribs so loud it almost drowned out your thoughts.
almost.
because no matter how fast you ran, the scene replayed. hongjoong’s voice, low and sharp, seonghwa’s face twisted with fury, the sound of knuckles against skin.
you squeezed your eyes shut, tears slipping free despite your effort to keep them back.
you hated this. you hated that no matter how hard you tried to keep everything balanced, it still fell apart.
“y/n—“
his voice broke through the quiet.
you stiffened immediately, fingers curling into fists. you didn’t have to turn around to know who it was.
“please” you said, the word trembling, “don’t.”
but hongjoong didn’t listen. you heard his footsteps crunch softly against the pavement, slow but steady.
“i didn’t mean for that to happen.” he said quietly. his voice was rough, threaded with something that wasn’t quite regret but wasn’t anger either. something more tired, more human. “i swear i didn’t.”
you laughed under your breath, bitter and shaky. “yeah well, it did.”
silence. only the faint hum of crickets and the echo of the park speakers somewhere far away.
hongjoong stepped closer, until you could feel the faint warmth of him behind you. “he just—” he sighed, frustrated, “he knows how to push me.”
you turned then, slowly, your throat tight. “and you know how to make everything worse.”
his jaw clenched. the fading sunlight caught on his face, his split lip, the faint mark on his cheek.
he looked wrecked. not just physically, but in the way that happens when you’ve finally said too much and can’t take any of it back.
and despite everything, your chest ached.
you quickly reached into your bag, fingers fumbling through old receipts and wrappers until you found a small pack of wipes.
he blinked, confused, as you tore one free and stepped toward him.
“sit.” you said softly.
“y/n—“
“don’t argue.”
something in your tone must’ve reached him because, after a beat, he sank onto the edge of the low concrete barrier behind the stand. he looked up at you, lips parted slightly, his breath visible in the cooling air.
you knelt in front of him, the faint scent of the wipe and something floral sharp between you.
his lip had split right at the corner, red and swollen. you could see where he’d tried to wipe the blood away earlier, leaving faint streaks along his skin.
you reached up gently, brushing the wipe along the wound. he hissed softly, his jaw tightening.
“sorry.” you murmured.
“it’s fine.” his voice came out hoarse.
you focused on the task, but your hands trembled slightly. his breath ghosted over your wrist, warm and uneven. from this close, you could see every freckle, every tired line under his eyes.
“why do you always have to do this?” you said quietly.
“do what?”
“bleed for things you don’t even say out loud.”
he gave a humorless laugh. “maybe i think bleeding’s easier.”
you looked up at him then, your eyes meeting his. for a second, everything stopped. the noise, the lights, even the ache in your chest.
his gaze softened, full of something raw and unguarded. “you shouldn’t have had to see that.” he said finally. “none of this should’ve happened in front of you.”
“then why did it?”
“because i lost control.” he exhaled shakily, his shoulders sagging. “because i’ve been pretending that i’m fine with watching you choose someone else.”
your heart stuttered.
he saw your expression and gave a small, broken smile. “i didn’t mean for it to sound like that. i just… i’ve been trying so hard to be the friend who doesn’t get in the way. the one who’s there no matter what. but it’s hard y/n. it’s really fucking hard.”
you swallowed, throat tight. “then why didn’t you say that at my house?”
he looked away, eyes glinting faintly in the dim light. “because it wouldn’t have been fair. not when you were already trying to figure things out with seonghwa. you didn’t need my feelings on top of that.”
you dabbed at his lip again, gentler this time. “you think keeping all that in made it better?”
“no.” he whispered. “it just made it worse.”
the wipe slipped from your fingers, falling to the ground… but you didn’t move to pick it up.
the space between you felt fragile, humming with something neither of you could name. his eyes flicked down to your lips for the briefest second, then back up to your face.
“every time i tell myself to stop caring,” he said quietly, “you go and do something small like laugh, or look at me like the way you are right now… and i forget why i ever tried.”
“hongjoong…”
he shook his head. “i know. i know this isn’t fair to you. but i can’t keep pretending that I don’t—” he paused, searching for the words. “that i don’t want you in a way that scares me.”
your breath caught.
he leaned forward ever so slightly, close enough that you could feel his warmth, close enough that if you tilted your head just a little, your foreheads would touch. “you don’t have to say anything. i’m not asking for you to choose between him or me. i just needed you to know.”
you blinked, tears getting caught in your eyes.
“watching him touch you today…seeing the way you looked at him—” he exhaled shakily, “it broke something in me. and i hate that it did.”
you looked down, fingers twisting together in your lap. “i didn’t want any of this to happen. not like this.”
“i know.” he murmured. “you never do. you always try to protect everyone, even when you’re the one getting hurt.”
his words landed too perfectly, too painfully. you felt yourself unravel a little under the weight of them.
without thinking, you reached up, brushing your thumb gently along the edge of his bruised jaw. his breath hitched at the touch, his eyes flickering shut for just a second.
“i hate that you got hurt because of me.” you said softly.
he opened his eyes, looking at you like he wanted to memorize every detail of your face. “you didn’t hurt me.” he whispered. “he did. i did. but not you.”
for a moment, neither of you moved. the night felt impossibly still, the distant sounds of the park fading into a faint, muffled echo.
then you pulled back, just enough to breathe again.
“hongjoong…” you started, voice trembling. “you and seonghwa… please fix it. i don’t want to break up your guys friendship because of me. it’s not right.”
he nodded slowly, eyes dropping to the ground. “yeah… yeah i’ll talk with him.”
you took a shaky breath, standing. “i just need to figure out what i want. to stop feeling like i’m ruining everything i touch.”
he stood too, wiping the last trace of blood from his lip. “you’re not ruining anything y/n. you’re just… existing. and sometimes that’s enough to make people fall apart.”
you let out a small, broken laugh. “that’s not comforting.”
“it’s not supposed to be.” he smiled faintly. “it’s just the truth.”
you looked at him for a long moment, memorizing the way the lights from the park flickered in his eyes, how small and human he looked under the weight of it all.
then you whispered, “i need a moment, you can uh… go back with the group.”
he gave a small nod.
he hesitated, like he wanted to reach for you but knew better. he turned back toward the park. the shadows stretched long behind him, swallowing him up as he walked away.
you stood there long after he was gone, the night pressing in close. the air was cooler now, the scent of popcorn fading, the world slowly settling into quiet.
you wiped your face with the back of your hand, exhaling shakily.
you didn’t know what tomorrow would look like. you didn’t know if things could ever go back to how they were.
but as you looked out toward the fading lights, one thing was certain.
something had shifted tonight.
and no matter how much you wished you could, there was no undoing it.
synopsis: randomly one late night you were added to the ateez group chat during a truth or dare game. at first it was weird, but soon turned into the best decision ever. friendships bloom, love grows— twists and turns occur. will it end well?
multiple part series— enjoy the ride!
tag list: @spiderfae03 @lyracarvahall @mxnsxngie @mrsminseochoi @kiwininja35 @chalamazed4life @mairewrites @fumaluvr
a/n: sorry for the delay! i had a family event and got way too drunk to proof read and upload this, but enjoy!! the next part will be longer i promise :)
series masterlist
the cold morning breeze sifted through the open window above your bed, you groaned and rolled over onto your side, staring at your phone. it’s been a few days since everything— seonghwa, hongjoong, the messy, complicated knot in your chest.
you’ve been keeping to yourself, afraid that at any moment you’d burst— feelings too overwhelming that just being around them would make you spill everything.
but today, today was going to be different. it was yet again another planned hangout day— and you’ll actually be there this time. you felt your pulse spike at the thought of the car ride, being packed in there with two people who had your heart in a knot.
but also, maybe today you can escape all these thoughts and genuinely have fun at the amusement park.
you finally got up to shower, groaning with every step. luckily enough, it felt refreshing.
you stood infront of the mirror, hair still damp, your favorite hoodie thrown over a casual tee, sneakers ready. you rehearsed a few smiles in the mirror, reminding yourself it’s just a hangout— like you used to do before all of this. just friends, just fun, but yet— as you step outside of your apartment your stomach twisted at the thought of seeing hongjoong and seonghwa together.
hongjoong’s apartment wasn’t too far, but your heart raced anyway as you approached. when you arrived, the door was already open. stepping inside, you set your bag down.
wooyoung and mingi were lounging in the living room, arguing over typical stuff, while yunho and yeosang were busy debating which snacks to bring.
seonghwa was hovering near wooyoung, laughing at one of his ridiculous impressions, completely unaware of the subtle tension simmering nearby.
san and jongho quickly made their way over to you, arms wrapping around your body, “hi.” you giggled out as they squeezed you.
“it’s been too long.” san nearly pouted, “yeah never do that again.” jongho scoffed, pushing your arm.
“i won’t.” you spoke out, though your voice shook with something underlying.
as you turn around, your eyes met with hongjoong— even after what happened… he still returned a polite, careful smile.
“you ready?” he asked.
yet there was an undercurrent in his tone, something you’ve came to recognize. protective, possessive, trying not to show how much he notices.
you nodded, keeping your tone light. “yeah, let’s go.”
the drive started with the usual chaos. wooyoung immediately claimed the front passenger seat. you had to squeeze into the back with seonghwa and mingi.
by the way, sitting between two tall, muscular men— wasn’t as great as you’d think, especially in this situation.
and yet seonghwa’s energy was uncontainable. he’s talking a mile a minute, animatedly pointing out every billboard and amusement park sign as if you’ve never seen one before.
“did you guys see the new ride?” he asks, bouncing slightly in his seat. “it’s supposed to have a 90 degree drop. i swear it’s insane, i’ve been hyping it up for weeks!”
you chuckle lowly, trying to loosen up. you brushed a stray hair from your face. “sounds terrifying. i’ll probably scream the whole way down.”
seonghwa grins, leaning slightly toward you. “good! screaming is half the fun. you’ll love it.”
you noticed hongjoong in the driver’s seat, his hands firm on the wheel, jaw tight. he doesn’t speak much, but the way his eyes flickered toward the rearview mirror catches your attention.
every time seonghwa laughs or touches your shoulder while gesturing, hongjoong’s grip on the wheel tightens just a fraction, foot pressing down on the gas pedal harder.
you felt it, the subtle tension coiling around you like a silent pulse.
wooyoung, oblivious, shouts from the front seat. “joong, don’t be so quiet! say something! or are you going to be all moody the whole ride?”
“i’m fine.” hongjoong mutters, his eyes briefly meeting yours in the mirror. there’s a sharpness there, just barely under control, that makes your chest tighten.
mingi snickers. “bitchy much?”
hongjoong lets the corner of his mouth twitch, but he doesn’t reply. instead he glances at you again, eyes now lowered— hiding something deeper.
you quickly look away, pretending to check your phone, heart thumping a little faster than normal.
seonghwa, still unaware, nudges your shoulder lightly. “earth to y/n?”
you jerked up, “hm?”
he giggled slightly, “i was just talking about the time we all went to the movies, and one of the workers were chasing us down for movie hopping.”
you smiled, nodding. “yeah… that was funny.”
“you were running so slow though, i had to drag you beside me.” his eyes sparked.
seonghwa’s words were light, just looking back on a funny memory, but hongjoong’s knuckles whitened on the steering wheel.
you caught his reflection in the mirror. his lips pressed into a thin line, eyes sharp, tension radiating off him in waves. he says nothing, but the undercurrent was clear.
the conversation bounces around, wooyoung recounting some ridiculous ride fail he saw online, san teasing mingi about his obsession with roller coasters, and yeosang rolling his eyes at everyone.
somehow, through the chatter and laughter, the strain between you and hongjoong coiled tighter with every bump in the road, every laugh that drew your attention, every accidental touch from seonghwa.
eventually, the amusement park appeared on the horizon, bright and colorful, the sounds of rides and laughter already drifting through the air. mingi practically leaped out of his seat. “finally! let’s gooooo!”
the group piled out of the car, stretching, grabbing bags and tickets. seonghwa grabbed your hand, pulling you toward the park entrance. “race you to the first ride?” he challenged, grinning.
“not fair, you’re taller than me.” you laugh, letting him drag you along anyway.
hongjoong stayed back slightly, hands in his pockets, pretending to adjust his jacket.
but when your hand brushes seonghwa’s or when you glance back, he’s watching.
his gaze lingering a moment too long before he would look away, pretending to check his phone. the quiet, simmering tension is almost physical, a weight in the air that only you seem to notice.
wooyoung charged ahead like a kid, yelling, “i call the rollercoaster first! no pushing!” san groaned dramatically behind him, and yunho muttered something about regretting humanity.
you laugh, tugged along by seonghwa, but your eyes occasionally flickered toward hongjoong. he’s pretending not to watch, standing a little apart, jaw tight, every so often checking the crowd around you as if guarding some invisible boundary.
“y/n you’re staring again.” seonghwa teased, tugging you gently forward. “focus! don’t get lost in your thoughts.”
you force a laugh, trying to shake off the weight of hongjoong’s gaze. “yeah, yeah, okay.” you say, even though your chest is tight and your mind is spinning.
finally, the first ride everyone agreed on was the carousel. the whole group clustered around it, laughing as they argued over which horses to pick.
you moved around a bit, before seeing one with a pink seat. you giggled before hopping on top of it. seonghwa immediately chose the one next to you, grinning. “see? perfect spot!”
hongjoong stayed back, leaning against a railing with his arms crossed. he didn’t say anything, but you notice him subtly shift closer whenever seonghwa reached out to you.
his expression was calm, controlled, but his eyes… oh his eyes were sharp, almost unreadable, but yet full of something you’d definitely know soon.
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