''i wasted those years'' who cares. you lived the only life you could've lived in those moments
You did the best you could with all you had and knew. That was then. Here is now
Cosmic Funnies

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Game of Thrones Daily
Aqua Utopia|海の底で記憶を紡ぐ
Jules of Nature
$LAYYYTER

Discoholic 🪩

⁂
occasionally subtle
Three Goblin Art

Kiana Khansmith
Claire Keane
Alisa U Zemlji Chuda
wallacepolsom
dirt enthusiast

shark vs the universe
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roma★
Acquired Stardust
trying on a metaphor

seen from Malaysia

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seen from Italy
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seen from Australia
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@answer-the-sirens
''i wasted those years'' who cares. you lived the only life you could've lived in those moments
You did the best you could with all you had and knew. That was then. Here is now
TREASURE: The Ring of the Sea.
pairing: pirate!OT8 x !reader
genre: angst, action, drama, enemies to lovers (eventual smut! ;))
wc: 105.6k (ongoing)
YUNWOO WORK for @cosmicdreamgrl 🎁
I completely forgot I made this the other night at 5am for no apparent reason other than blonde Yunho.
· .• ❆ Where the cold can't reach .ೃ࿔*
CHAPTER 5
Pairing: ATEEZ Ot8 X fem! reader
Genre: A/B/O AU, Fluff, Angst, Hurt/Comfort
Summary: Between exhausting finals, late nights at the atelier, and the quiet warmth of your pack waiting at home, life settles into a fragile kind of peace. Still, the world beyond your pack isn’t always as gentle. When the wrong eyes finally notice you, the fragile balance keeping everything together begins to crack and their world seems to start spinning in the wrong direction.
Warnings: difficulty with food, stalking, swearing
Words: 18 168 (not proof read yet, please excuse any grammar mistakes)
Taglist: (open)
Previous: 𓂅 ⋆❅‧₊˚
°❆⋆.ೃ࿔*:・𓂅 ⋆❅‧₊˚
Happy pride month to the tiny cowboy and tiny Trojan man from Night at the Museum
This hands down the best comment in the notes, I will not be taking criticism.
1$ flea market score. Tiny glass 1960s perfume bottles. I love them.
Can you swap their heads ?
omg you can
Their meeting was foretold in the ancient texts
I can never leave here
Happy Pride!
FiX ON THE UNFiXED : Exhibition Video
Hello, I'm Mingi from ATEEZ.
This time, in collaboration with MCM and FIX ON, I'm holding a photo exhibition.
Thank you so much for coming.
I took these film photos myself, integrated them with everyday objects, and expressed them through an analog technique called cyanotype. Combining the analog elements and legacy that I love, I worked with MCM to bring the gaze and sensibilities I've been quietly collecting into this single space. I think you'll be able to truly feel those sensibilities right here.
As many of my fans probably know, I put a lot of thought into showing my most authentic self through this work. You've seen a lot of the curated version of me, but I wanted to capture the moments and everyday objects I usually record, and share them with you in the most natural way.
Rather than just the finished product, I wanted to showcase the organic flow and the process itself, which is why I prepared this exciting project. Not only can you see the film photos I took and the cyanotype artworks, but more importantly, there's also a listening zone where you can listen to my recently released solo EPs. As you slowly walk through the space, relaxing and enjoying yourself, it will serve as a visual and creative element where you can feel what thoughts I have, and what kind of music and perspective I want to share.
I don't think 'FIX ON' represents a fixed, rigid identity. Change is natural, but what truly matters is holding onto ourselves - not losing who we are - as we change.
As you stroll through, I hope you take in our direction, the music, and everything else here, and just experience it in your own way. However, the core meaning that MCM and I want to convey is exactly this: "Let's not lose ourselves, and let's keep finding our way back to who we are - one step at a time."
I hope this exhibition can be of some help to you in doing that.
ATEEZ as Boyfriends — Period Scenarios just my thoughts
And if someone else could write something similar I would love to see how you think they would do 😅
Also first post plz go easy on me
————————————————
Park Seonghwa
Seonghwa was waiting for your second and third sneeze just so he could dramatically say “bless you” again, but before he even got the chance, your hand ripped from his and you bolted down the hallway toward the bathrooms.
“Baby?” he called, startled, immediately following after you.
The door to the family restroom slammed shut behind you.
Inside, your heart dropped.
The warm gush you’d felt wasn’t your imagination. Blood stained your skirt, your thighs, even your hands from trying to stop the panic spiraling through you. Your period wasn’t supposed to come for another two weeks. You had nothing with you. No pads, no tampons, no spare clothes—nothing.
Outside the door, Seonghwa knocked softly at first.
“Hey… you okay in there?”
You squeezed your eyes shut, mortified.
You tried cleaning yourself up with damp paper towels, but it only made the mess smear more. The stain on your skirt was obvious now, and every second made you want to cry harder.
Another knock.
“Baby?” His voice lowered with concern. “You’re scaring me a little.”
You still didn’t answer.
A few more minutes passed before his knocking became more urgent.
“Please talk to me. Are you hurt?”
Your lip trembled. Finally, you unlocked the door just enough to peek out.
“I—I started my period,” you whispered, already tearing up. “It’s everywhere…”
The worry on Seonghwa’s face instantly melted into pure softness.
“Oh, sweetheart…”
Before you could apologize again, he gently pushed inside the bathroom and locked the door behind him. Thankfully it was a private family restroom.
His eyes scanned you quickly—
“Aww, my poor baby.” His hands cupped your face carefully. “Hey, hey, it’s okay.”
You shook your head in embarrassment. “It’s not okay, I made such a mess—”
“So what?” he interrupted gently, brushing his thumb under your eye. “Periods happen. You don’t need to be embarrassed with me.”
He kissed the tip of your nose, making you let out the tiniest shaky laugh.
“There’s my girl.”
After making sure you were okay physically, he pinched your cheek lightly. “Stay here for me, okay? I’ll be right back.”
You blinked at him. “Wait, where are you—”
But he was already gone.
Not even ten minutes later, there was another knock on the door.
“Open up, baby.”
When you cracked it open, Seonghwa stood there holding a small shopping bag triumphantly.
Inside were your favorite pads, wet wipes, pain medicine, a bottled drink… and somehow, a pair of your own leggings and panties you’d been missing for weeks.
You stared at him. “Those are mine.”
He grinned unapologetically. “I borrowed them for emergency boyfriend purposes.”
You couldn’t help laughing through your tears.
He handed you the bag carefully. “Get changed. I’ll wait right outside, and then I’m taking you home, making you tea, and putting on whatever comfort movie you want.”
“…Even if it’s the same one we watched three times already?”
“Especially then.” He smiled warmly. “Now go take care of yourself, pretty girl.”
—————
Kim Hongjoong
Hongjoong was mid-sentence when you suddenly ripped your hand from his and took off down the hallway.
“Wait—baby?”
He blinked in confusion, trying to process what had just happened. One second you were walking beside him holding his hand, the next you looked horrified and practically sprinted away.
It took him a few seconds to react.
“Y/n?!”
By the time he hurried after you, you’d already disappeared around the corner. He looked around frantically, trying to figure out which direction you’d gone before finally pulling out his phone and calling you.
Inside the bathroom, your own phone buzzing in your bag only made you want to cry harder.
You were trying desperately to clean yourself up with rough paper towels and water, but it barely helped. Your skirt was stained badly, and you could still feel blood trickling down your thighs.
Your phone buzzed again.
And again.
“God…” you muttered miserably, knowing Hongjoong was probably panicking by now.
Finally, after cleaning yourself up as best you could, you answered.
Hongjoong didn’t even wait for a greeting.
“Where are you?! What’s wrong? Are you okay??”
The words tumbled out so fast and full of worry that guilt instantly hit you.
“I’m sorry, Joonie…” Your voice came out small and embarrassed. “I—I started my cycle… I’m in the bathroom.”
There was a brief pause.
“Oh thank God,” he breathed. “I thought something happened to you.”
You leaned against the sink, eyes watering again. “It kinda did…”
“Aww, baby…”
You could practically picture the pout on his face through the phone.
“Okay, don’t worry,” he said immediately, voice switching into problem-solving mode. “I’ll take care of it.”
You frowned. “What?”
But before you could question him further, he cut in quickly.
“Stay right there. Don’t move, okay? I’ll be back soon.”
Then he hung up.
About fifteen minutes later, there was a knock at the bathroom door.
“Baby? It’s me.”
You slowly cracked the door open, only for Hongjoong to immediately stick two grocery bags through the gap without even trying to peek inside.
You took the bags and stared down in disbelief.
Pads. Tampons. A menstrual cup. Wet wipes. Painkillers. Snacks. A heating patch. New underwear. Sweatpants. Even a hoodie.
It genuinely looked like he’d walked into the store and panic-bought the entire feminine hygiene aisle.
You could vividly imagine him speed-walking through the store muttering, “What if she needs this too?” while throwing random products into the cart.
Your chest tightened painfully in the sweetest way.
“Joonie…”
From outside the door, you heard him answer softly, “Did I get the right stuff?”
“You got… literally everything.”
“Good.” You could hear the smile in his voice now. “Take your time cleaning up. I’ll stay right here.”
A few seconds later—
“And baby?”
“Yeah?”
“No more running away from me when you’re hurting, okay?” His voice gentled. “I’d rather help than have you panic alone.”
———————
Jeong Yunho
The date had been perfect up until now.
You and Yunho had been walking through the park hand in hand, teasing each other while sharing snacks and pointing out dogs you wanted to pet. You’d mentioned your stomach hurting a little earlier, but neither of you thought much of it.
Then you sneezed.
And immediately felt the awful warm gush spread between your legs.
Your soul practically left your body.
Yunho opened his mouth, ready to make some joke about pollen season—
—but before he could even speak, you yanked your hand away and bolted.
“Baby??”
Even with his delayed reaction, Yunho’s long legs caught up to you quickly before you even reached the bathroom stalls.
“Baby, why did you run??” he asked, completely panicked.
“Yunho, out of the way please!!” you whisper-yelled frantically, trying to get around him. “I think I just started my period or peed myself!”
His entire brain visibly short-circuited.
“Oh.”
You shoved past him into the stall and locked the door behind you, groaning in embarrassment as you checked the damage.
Of course it wasn’t pee.
Of course your period had decided to show up two weeks early in the middle of a park date.
Outside the stall, Yunho blinked several times before stepping closer and knocking carefully.
“Ummm… baby?” he asked hesitantly. “What can I do? Do you need my jacket?”
You sighed in defeat. “Yes please, baby. Thank you… just give me a few minutes to figure something out.”
A second later his hoodie was handed over the top of the stall.
Meanwhile Yunho stood outside guarding the bathroom area like it was a military assignment.
Then his eyes landed on two women nearby pushing strollers with toddlers.
His face lit up like he’d just solved world hunger.
Without hesitation, he jogged over.
“Excuse me!” he called politely.
The women looked up curiously as the tall, visibly stressed young man approached them.
“Do either of you happen to have a diaper?”
“…A diaper?” one repeated slowly.
Yunho nodded rapidly. “My girlfriend had an emergency and I thought maybe—well—I don’t know—I panicked—”
The more he explained, the more the women started laughing.
“Oh honey,” one of them said between giggles. “You mean she started her period?”
Yunho looked relieved someone understood him.
“Yes! Exactly!”
The women exchanged amused looks before one dug through her purse and handed him two tampons.
“There you go, sweetheart. And maybe don’t ask strangers for diapers next time,” she teased gently. “Your girlfriend might get embarrassed… or dump you.”
Yunho gasped dramatically. “No, please don’t say that.”
The women laughed harder.
“But you’ve got good intentions,” the other reassured him.
Yunho bowed repeatedly. “Thank you! Thank you so much!”
Then he sprinted back toward the bathroom like a man on a mission.
A knock sounded on your stall door again.
“Baby?”
You cracked the door slightly, and Yunho immediately handed back his hoodie along with two tampons held proudly in his palm like trophies.
You stared at them in confusion.
“…Where did you get those?”
There was a pause.
“…Two moms.”
You blinked.
“What?”
Through the crack in the door, Yunho sheepishly explained the entire diaper incident.
Your jaw dropped.
“You—you asked them for diapers??”
“I thought it might help?!”
At that point you almost burst out laughing despite your embarrassment.
You pressed your forehead against the stall door. “Oh my God…”
“Was it wrong??”
“…Never mind, baby,” you laughed weakly. “Thank you.”
As you shut the stall door again, you could hear Yunho sigh dramatically outside.
“Okay good,” he muttered to himself. “I thought I ruined my chances of being husband material.”
———————————
Kang Yeosang
You and Yeosang had been having a surprisingly fun grocery shopping date.
The cart was already half full with snacks you definitely didn’t need, ingredients for dinner, and random things Yeosang kept insisting looked “interesting enough to try once.”
You’d mentioned some stomach pain earlier, but you figured it was nothing serious.
Then you sneezed.
And immediately felt the unmistakable warm gush between your legs.
Your eyes widened in horror.
Without a single word, you abandoned the cart and speed-walked—quickly turning into a full sprint—toward the bathrooms on the other side of the store.
“???”
Yeosang blinked in confusion before quickly following after you, leaving the completely full cart sitting in the middle of an aisle.
He assumed it must’ve been a serious bathroom emergency and waited patiently outside the restroom door.
One minute passed.
Then another.
Then another.
Finally he knocked gently.
“Y/n? Is everything okay?”
Inside the stall, you wanted to disappear forever.
“It’s my period…” you admitted quietly. “It came early.”
There was a pause.
Then simply—
“Oh.”
You waited for awkwardness. Panic. Anything.
Instead Yeosang just nodded to himself calmly outside the door.
“Okay.”
You took a shaky breath. At least you were already in a store.
“Can you maybe buy me pads?” you asked weakly.
“Okay.”
And with that, he turned and walked away immediately.
At first, Yeosang felt confident.
How hard could buying pads possibly be?
Then he reached the aisle.
His confidence vanished instantly.
There were dozens of boxes.
Different sizes. Different colors. Wings? No wings? Overnight? Ultra thin? Super plus?? Why did some look like they belonged in a tech store?
Yeosang stood frozen in front of the shelf for several long minutes, staring with the intensity of someone trying to decode ancient scripture.
Eventually, an older woman noticed him visibly struggling and approached with an amused smile.
“Honey, do you need help?”
Yeosang immediately nodded.
“Yes. Very much.”
The woman chuckled softly. “Girlfriend emergency?”
“Yes,” he answered seriously. “Very emergency.”
That only made her laugh harder.
After Yeosang awkwardly explained the situation in detail, the woman kindly grabbed a variety pack box from the shelf and handed it to him.
“This one should help. Now hurry up and bring these to your poor girlfriend.”
Then she pointed at him accusingly.
“And apologize for taking so long. Tell her the checkout line was long.”
Yeosang blinked.
“But I was standing there confused for a long time.”
The woman laughed loudly. “Don’t tell her that part!”
Still, Yeosang thanked her politely and hurried off.
Back at the bathroom, there was finally a knock.
“Y/n?”
You opened the door slightly, and Yeosang handed you the bag.
“Sorry it took so long,” he said honestly. “There were too many options and I got overwhelmed.”
You stared at him for a second before laughing despite your embarrassment.
“You’re cute.”
“I also got help from a grandmother,” he admitted immediately.
“…Yeosang.”
“She said not to tell you that.”
You laughed harder from inside the stall while he smiled proudly at himself for succeeding in the mission.
Once you cleaned up, Yeosang wrapped an arm around your shoulders and carefully walked you out of the store, carrying the small bag like he’d just completed an important quest.
It wasn’t until the two of you got home that silence suddenly filled the room.
You slowly looked at him.
“…The groceries.”
Yeosang froze.
The two of you had completely abandoned an entire cart full of groceries in the middle of the store.
————————
Choi San
You and San had spent the entire afternoon wandering through little shops, laughing together, completely wrapped up in your date.
You’d noticed some stomach cramps here and there, but you brushed them off. Nothing unusual.
At least, you thought so.
Then you sneezed.
And in an instant, that warm, awful feeling hit you. Your entire body went rigid.
“Oh no.”
San barely had time to react before you pulled your hand out of his and practically speed-walked away.
“Baby??”
The panic in your face immediately set him on edge.
“I— I need the bathroom,” you blurted, already moving faster.
“Wait—what happened?” he called, following right behind you.
You didn’t answer. You couldn’t. You were too mortified, weaving through people until you spotted a family restroom and rushed inside, slamming the door shut.
“Y/n!” San knocked immediately. “Hey—open the door. Are you okay? Did you get sick?”
Inside, you leaned against the sink, eyes stinging.
Of course. Of course it was your period.
Two weeks early.
And of course you had nothing with you.
“Baby!” he called again, more worried now. “Talk to me.”
“I’m fine!” you called back quickly, though your voice wavered.
“That did not sound fine!”
You let out a frustrated, shaky breath.
After a moment of him pacing outside, you finally cracked the door open just enough to look at him.
The second San saw your face—watery eyes, embarrassed expression—his whole posture softened.
“What happened?” he asked gently.
You looked away. “I started my period…”
There was a beat of silence.
Then he visibly relaxed. “Oh. Thank God.”
You blinked. “What do you mean ‘thank God’?”
“I thought something was really wrong,” he admitted, exhaling. His eyes then dropped briefly, taking in the situation, and his expression shifted instantly into something softer. “Oh… baby.”
Your cheeks burned. “It’s embarrassing.”
“No.” His voice turned firm, but gentle. “Don’t say that.”
Before you could protest, he pushed the door open wider and stepped inside with you like it was the most natural thing in the world.
“It’s just your period,” he said quietly, gently cupping your face. “You don’t have to be embarrassed with me.”
That was all it took for your eyes to well up again.
San’s expression immediately softened in alarm. “Hey—hey, don’t cry. Please don’t cry.”
“I’m not trying to,” you whispered, overwhelmed.
He pressed a soft kiss to your forehead, then your nose, then both cheeks—slow, grounding, reassuring. Then he crouched down slightly, hands gentle as he checked on you, like he was making sure you were okay more than anything else.
“It’s a bit of a mess…” you admitted quietly.
“Then we handle it,” he said simply, like there was nothing complicated about it at all.
He met your eyes again. “Look at me.”
You did, still teary and embarrassed.
San stood, grabbed some paper towels, and wet them at the sink. Without hesitation, he started helping you clean up gently, carefully, working slowly and patiently while you tried half-heartedly to stop him.
“San, I can—”
“I know,” he interrupted softly. “But I’ve got you.”
He didn’t rush. He didn’t make it awkward. When he was satisfied, he helped you sit down and stepped back slightly.
“Stay here for a minute,” he said. “I’ll be right back.”
“San—where are you going?”
“Car,” he answered simply. “I keep a bag there.”
You blinked. “A bag?”
He gave a small shrug through the door before heading out. “Emergency stuff. Pads, pain meds, spare clothes… your hair ties, too.”
And just like that, he was gone A few minutes later, he came back knocking gently.
“It’s me.”
You let him in again.
“I keep it in the car,” he explained, holding up the bag. “Just in case. I’ve got everything you might need.”
Your chest tightened at how casually prepared he was.
He helped you clean up properly, gave you fresh clothes, and made sure you were comfortable before handing you a soft hoodie.
“Better?” he asked.
“…Yeah,” you admitted quietly.
“Good,” he said with a small smile.
Then, softer, he added, “Come on. Let’s get you home.”
He kept a steady hand on your back as you walked out, slow and careful, never rushing you. All the way to the car, his thumb gently rubbed calming circles into your skin.
And when you got home, he didn’t stop there.
He ran you a bath, got you something warm to drink, and stayed with you just taking care of you
——————————-
Mingi
The realization hit you so fast your face went pale. Without thinking, you let go of Mingi’s hand and rushed toward the nearest bathroom, panic setting in with every step.
“Hey—baby?!” Mingi called, immediately following you, concern sharpening his voice. “What happened?”
You couldn’t even answer. You were too mortified, too overwhelmed, already pushing into the restroom area and shutting yourself in.
Inside, reality sank in.
Two weeks early.
Nothing with you.
Not even a backup.
“Oh God…” you whispered, leaning against the counter as your mind raced.
Outside, you heard him.
“Y/n? Talk to me. Are you hurt?”
You swallowed hard, voice barely steady. “I’m… I’m okay.”
But it didn’t sound convincing—not even to you.
There was a pause, then you heard him shift closer.
“Open the door a little,” Mingi said gently. “Just let me see you.”
When you finally cracked it open, his expression softened immediately—but there was still worry in his eyes. Until he understood.
Then his face changed completely.
“Oh…” he breathed. “Baby…”
The embarrassment hit you all over again. “It’s really bad. I don’t have anything with me.”
For a second, he just looked at you—processing, thinking fast. Then he nodded once, decisive.
“Okay. Don’t worry,” he said firmly. “I’ve got you.”
Before you could even respond, he shrugged off his jacket and carefully tied it around your waist, shielding you gently without hesitation.
“Hey,” he added softly, meeting your eyes. “I’m gonna take care of you. Alright?”
You nodded weakly, still overwhelmed.
Then, without warning, he scooped you up bridal style like it was the most natural thing in the world.
“Mi—Mingi!” you gasped.
“Just relax,” he said, already walking. “I’ve got you.”
He carried you straight to the car, careful and steady the whole way, like you weighed nothing at all but still mattered completely.
Once inside, he immediately turned the heated seat on and started the engine.
“We’re going to the store first,” he said calmly. “Okay? We’ll grab whatever you need.”
You nodded, still trying to process everything.
At the convenience store, he was quick and focused—pads, pain relief, snacks, drinks—moving like he already knew exactly what would help.
Then he drove you both home.
The moment you got inside, everything shifted into comfort mode.
“I’ll set everything up,” he said, already moving with purpose. “Go take care of what you need. I’ll be right here.”
When you came out, the living room was transformed—soft lighting, blankets everywhere, a heating pad already warmed and waiting on the couch. Your favorite movie was on, low and comforting in the background.
Mingi patted the spot beside him.
“Come here,” he said gently.
Mingi stayed beside you on the couch, the movie playing quietly in the background, but his focus was completely on you.
You were curled up under a blanket, the heating pad resting against your stomach, slowly easing the cramps. When he noticed you still looked tense, he gently pulled your legs into his lap.
“Relax,” he said softly.
His hands were big—large enough to wrap easily around your calves. When he started massaging your ankles, his fingers circled slowly, applying steady, even pressure. Not too hard, not too light—just enough to feel grounding.
“Let me know if it hurts,” he murmured.
“It’s okay,” you whispered.
So he kept going.
His thumbs worked up your calves in slow, careful motions. When he found tight spots, he paused and pressed a little deeper, then eased off again, repeating the motion until the tension softened.
You could feel how strong he was, even though he was gentle with every movement. His grip stayed steady and controlled, like he was making sure you felt safe the entire time.
“You’ve been on your feet a lot today,” he said quietly, more to himself.
His hands moved higher, smoothing over your legs in slow strokes, easing out the remaining tightness around your knees. Every so often, his thumb would trace small calming circles, almost absentminded but comforting.
“You okay?” he asked again, glancing up at you.
You nodded.
“Good,” he said simply.
He kept massaging slowly, patiently, like he wasn’t in any rush at all—just focused on making sure you felt better.
—————————
Wooyoung
You and your boyfriend WooYoung had been out together all afternoon—just a casual date, walking around, grabbing snacks, enjoying the day.
Panic hit instantly. Without a word, you let go of his hand and rushed toward the nearest bathroom, your heart racing. It was two weeks early—and you had nothing with you.
“Baby?!” Wooyoung called, startled, immediately following you. “Hey—what’s wrong?”
You didn’t answer, too mortified, already slipping into the restroom and shutting the door.
Outside, he started knocking lightly.
“Hey, honey… are you okay in there?”
Then, softer, more concerned: “Talk to me.”
Inside, you leaned against the sink, trying to breathe.
Of course it was your period. Of course it was unexpected.
You finally spoke, voice small. “Woo… I started early.”
There was a pause.
“…Oh,” he said, then immediately softened. “Okay. Okay, baby, I’ve got you.”
The door cracked open slightly, and he gently stepped inside before you could even protest.
“Aww,” he murmured, seeing your face. “Come here.”
Before you could respond, he pulled you into a soft hug, one hand immediately moving to your hair, smoothing it down in slow, calming strokes.
“You’re okay,” he said quietly. “Are you cramping?
“Yeah… a little.”
He nodded like he already expected that. His hand moved down your back gently, then rested carefully over your lower stomach, rubbing slow circles.
“I should’ve noticed earlier,” he said, half to himself. “You were crampy, hungrier… a little extra bratty too.”
You let out a small wine, he can’t be the one to talk about someone else being a brat…
He smiled. “Hey, it’s okay. I know you.”
From his jacket pocket, he already pulled out a couple of pads—like he had been prepared for this exact possibility—and set them aside for you, then quickly slipped his jacket off and handed it to you.
“Wear this baby” he said softly. Helping you put his long coat on.
Once you were done, he was immediately there again, guiding you out with a warm hand on your back.
“You good?” he asked gently.
You nodded.
“Okay. We’re going home.”
The ride back was quiet, comfortable. He kept one hand on your thigh, squeezing gently now and then, grounding you without saying much.
At home, he didn’t hesitate—he ran you a bath, got your favorite comfort food ready, and made the couch into a nest of blankets and warmth.
And when you finally came out, he pulled you straight into his arms.
“Stay here,” he said softly. “I’ve got you for the rest of the night.”
And he did—movies, cuddles, soft teasing comments, and all the care in the world, like it was the easiest thing for him to do.
—————————-
Jungho
Without saying a word, you let go of Jongho’s hand and quickly walked away, heading straight for the nearest restroom.
“Hey—wait,” Jongho called, immediately alert. His voice wasn’t loud, but it had that sharp concern in it as he followed you. “What’s wrong?”
You didn’t answer. You couldn’t. You were already pushing into the bathroom area, mortified, heart racing.
Inside, you leaned against the sink, breathing fast. Two weeks early. Nothing with you. Of course.
Outside, you heard a knock—firm but careful.
“Are you hurt?” Jongho asked.
You hesitated. Then, quietly: “I’m okay… I just… started my period.”
There was a pause.
Then his voice softened immediately. “Oh.”
A beat.
“Okay. Don’t panic. I’m here.”
The door opened just slightly, and Jongho stepped in only far enough to see you—not rushing, not crowding you.
His expression softened when he saw your face.
“It’s okay,” he said simply. “You don’t need to be embarrassed.”
Your eyes dropped. “It’s annoying… I didn’t expect it.”
He nodded once, like that was all he needed to hear.
“I know,” he said. Then, more practically, “Do you have anything with you?”
You shook your head.
“Alright,” he said, already thinking. Calm. Focused. “Stay here a second.”
Before you could argue, he stepped out—but didn’t go far. You could hear him on his phone, short and efficient, like he was handling a mission. Then a few minutes later, he was back.
He held out his jacket first.
“Wrap this around your waist,” he said. “We’re going to get what you need.”
No teasing. No awkwardness. Just steady certainty.
He stayed close as you moved, walking slightly behind you like a shield so you didn’t feel exposed. Every so often, he’d check in quietly.
“You okay?”
You’d nod.
“Good.”
At the store, he didn’t hesitate—pads, pain relief, snacks, drinks. He grabbed everything quickly, like he wanted to get you out of there as fast and comfortably as possible.
On the way home, the car was warm and quiet. Jongho kept one hand resting lightly near yours, not overly touchy, just present.
When you got home, his whole demeanor shifted into quiet care.
“I’ll set things up,” he said. “Go change.”
When you came out, the living room was already prepared—blankets neatly spread out, your favorite show ready, a warm drink waiting on the table.
Jongho looked up at you and nodded slightly.
“Come here,” he said.
You sat beside him, still a little embarrassed, and he adjusted the blanket around you without making it a big deal.
“You don’t have to deal with it alone,” he said quietly.
Then, after a pause, a faint hint of softness in his voice:
“Next time, just tell me you’re cramping earlier. I’ll make it easier.”
And he meant it—not dramatic, just Jongho being Jongho: steady, practical, and completely on your side.
ATEEZ × Reader When You're Sick
Pt. 2 Maknae Line
Genre: Fluff, Comfort, Established Relationship, slightly suggestive...
Word count: 6k
Pt 1 https://www.tumblr.com/kittypusslov/818268483523641344/ateez-x-reader-when-youre-sick
San 1.6k words
San always felt conflicted whenever he got sick. On one hand, he became needier, clingier, and wanted nothing more than to curl up in your arms. On the other hand, the thought of getting you sick too made him want to lock himself away until he was completely better.
It had been three days since he got sick.
The first day wasn’t too bad. Just a low-grade fever and a little cough—or at least that’s what he told you. Of course, you wanted to take care of him.
“No! I don’t want you catching anything,” he told you firmly.
“I’ll be fine!” you argued back. God, San could be so frustrating.
Instead, he banished himself to the guest room in an attempt to keep his distance. He only came out when absolutely necessary and even wore a mask.
“San! You are being too much! Really? A mask?!” you asked the first time he stepped out of the room.
“I’m not taking any chances,” he replied before retreating right back inside.
Ugh. This man. When lunchtime came around, you made soup and rice, gathered some medicine and water onto a tray, and carried everything into the guest room.
San was sleeping softly. His face was slightly flushed, his hair messy, and his lips parted just enough to reveal the soft snores escaping through what was clearly a stuffy nose.
Setting the tray on the nightstand, you sat carefully beside him. You brushed the hair from his face and gently scratched his scalp.
“Sannie, baby, I made lunch. Do you want to wake up and eat?”
Still half asleep, he leaned into your touch. “Hmm… feels good.” His words slurred together sleepily.
You continued rubbing his head while he let out tiny content groans. “San, I have medicine for your headache. Can you sit up for me?”
As his eyes slowly opened, he became more aware of his surroundings. And immediately pulled away.
Putting distance between the two of you, he scooted toward the opposite side of the bed. “I can take it myself. Thank you for the food and medicine.”
“You are so stubborn,” you huffed. “Okay, okay. I’ll leave. And don’t even think about putting that mask on right now.”
His eyes kept making quick glances to it. Walking toward the door, you sighed. “Let me know if you need anything, okay?”
“I will.” He lied.
You shut the door behind you and went to eat your own lunch. The entire time, you debated hiding every mask in the house.
Later, San emerged only long enough to bring his dishes to the kitchen.
…Wearing that damn mask.
“San, baby, if you don’t put those dishes down and go back to bed, I swear I’ll rip that mask off and kiss you until I know I’m sick.” You crossed your arms and glared at him.
At that point, you honestly didn’t care if you got sick. At least then you could be miserable together instead of him locking himself away.
And if you were struggling with the separation, you knew he had to be feeling it too.
San stared at you. He was clearly debating whether you were bluffing.
You weren’t.
God, he wanted to kiss you. Wanted to hold you. Wanted to touch you.
Then he felt another wave of fever hit him.
Nope. Definitely not. Without another word, he abandoned the dishes and practically fled back to the guest room.
You groaned.
Dinner went much the same. You brought him food, water, medicine, and this time a small chocolate pudding topped with strawberries.
“Thank you!”
He looked genuinely excited about the dessert. You simply hummed and walked away. After dinner, you cleaned up and found yourself staring at the couch.
Normally, this was when the two of you would be curled up together. Guess not tonight.
You briefly considered watching a movie without him and turning the volume up so he’d hear it from the guest room.
But you decided against it. Yes, he was being stubborn. Yes, he was being annoying. But it was coming from a place of love. Even if you hated being separated.
“San, you took your medicine, right? Can I do anything for you?” you called through the door later that night.
“Yep. Took my medicine. I’m fine. Thank you, baby.” His voice sounded strained.
You frowned. “Okay… goodnight.” You hadn’t meant to sound so sad.
Without waiting for a response, you walked back to your room. “Goodnight, asshole. Love you, stupidhead,” you muttered to yourself.
Day two was worse. San looked noticeably weaker.
You got up early and made breakfast before gathering his medicine. When you entered the guest room, he was still asleep.
His chest was bare, a sheet draped loosely over his hips, and a dried-out washcloth rested across his forehead.
His fever must have spiked overnight. You set the tray down before carefully removing the cloth, rewetting it with cool water, and placing it back against his skin.
He flinched in his sleep.
You were careful not to wake him. Then quietly left the room.
Lunch was the same. Dinner too.
You’d spent the entire day frustrated and worried. You wanted to help him. Hold him. Comfort him. Tell him everything would be okay. It had only been two days, but you missed him so much it physically hurt.
Later that evening, unable to help yourself, you made him another dessert. When you entered the room, he was curled tightly around a pillow.
You knew he wished it was you.
Your chest hurt. San loved physical affection. Honestly, it wasn’t just something he liked. It was something he needed.
He drifted somewhere between sleep and wakefulness while you sat carefully behind him on the bed.
Your cool hands gently rubbed his arms and back.
The effect was immediate. Even asleep, his body relaxed beneath your touch.
You stayed longer than intended. Watching him breathe. Watching his face scrunch whenever he shifted. Watching the tension leave his muscles beneath your hands.
Eventually, you decided to leave before he woke up and had a dramatic breakdown over being this close to you without a mask.
You rolled your eyes. Dramatic.
You carefully started getting off the bed.
“Don’t leave.” The words were barely more than a whisper.
Soft. Broken.
Your heart shattered.
“Oh, baby.”
Immediately, you sat back down. You leaned against the headboard and gently guided him toward you.
His head settled against your stomach while your legs surrounded him.
His arms wrapped around your waist immediately.
His grip felt weak, but he still held onto you like you were his anchor.
Then he rubbed his face against you.
Like a cat. Desperate for affection.
Your fingers slid through his hair. Across his face. Down his neck. His shoulders. Then back up again.
“I missed you,” he mumbled.
“I know.”
“I wanted to talk to you.”
“I know.”
“Wanted to hold you.”
“I know.”
“Wanted to kiss you.”
You smiled sadly.
“Me too, baby.”
As your hands moved back to cup his face, you felt tears.
Warm tears. Flowing freely.
“San? Baby, why are you crying?”
You tried lifting his head. Instead, he buried himself deeper against you.
“I don’t know…”
Your heart broke all over again. You wrapped your arms tighter around him.
“It’s okay, Sannie. Just let it out. I’ve got you.”
His hands wandered everywhere. Your waist. Your hips. Your thighs. Your arms. Like he was trying to make up for every touch he’d missed. You held him close and whispered everything you’d been holding back.
How much you loved him. How much you missed him. How much you wanted to take care of him. How empty your bed felt without him. And eventually, he fell asleep in your arms.
On day three, he finally gave in completely.
When you woke up the next morning, you’d somehow shifted positions. Now San was cocooned against your chest. Your arms wrapped around him while his legs tangled with yours.
You pressed a kiss against his forehead. Still warm. But much better. His fever was definitely coming down. This time, you did everything you’d wanted to do from the beginning.
Everything you promised him the night before.
And this time? He let you.
Unfortunately, on day four, your throat started feeling sore.
Immediately, you panicked. Absolutely not. After all that, there was no way you were getting sick. You took every supplement, vitamin, and medicine you could find. By the end of the day, San noticed.
Of course he did. Your symptoms were starting to look suspiciously familiar.
He asked. You denied it. Repeatedly.
Day five. You woke up with a fever. San knew. You knew.
“Drink.”
“I’m not thirsty.”
“Interesting. I don’t remember that being one of the options.”
“San.”
“Baby.”
“You’re annoying.”
“That’s funny. I seem to remember you saying something similar three days ago.” he said smugly.
“YN,” he said slowly. “Do you want to do this the easy way or the hard way?” You immediately crossed your arms.
“I’m not sick.”
San stared. You stared back. One eyebrow slowly lifted.
“Baby.”
“I’m not.”
San let out a long sigh. This was karma. For both of you.
He gently cupped your face in his hands. “Let me recommend the easy way. It’s a lot nicer.”
You could tell he was trying not to smile. God, he wasn’t happy you were sick. But now it was his turn. His turn to take care of you. His thumb brushed your cheek.
“Now it’s my turn to take care of you,” he said softly. “And trust me, baby…” His smile finally appeared. “I plan on doing it properly.”
You wanted to argue. You really did. But the way he was holding your face and looking at you made your entire body flush for a completely different reason.
“…Okay, Sannie.” You leaned into his touch. “Let’s see how good you take care of me.”
Mingi 1.4k words
You didn’t even have time to process what was happening before you woke up with bile rushing up your throat. You barely made it to the bathroom before getting sick. Unfortunately, you didn’t quite make it to the toilet.
The sound of vomit hitting the bathroom floor was unmistakable.
Your throat burned as you gagged on what little remained in your stomach. The sudden sickness left you shaky, weak, and absolutely disgusted. Taking a few deep breaths, you tried to calm yourself down.
Obviously, you hadn’t made it in time to reach the toilet, which also meant you hadn’t had time to shut the bathroom door behind you. So when Mingi appeared, still half asleep, drawn by the very unmistakable sound of someone getting sick, you immediately scrambled to slam the door shut.
“Babe, you okay—”
The door shut right in his face.
“I’m fine. Go back to bed.”
Ugh.
The bathroom was disgusting. You wanted to bleach every surface, scrub the floor raw, and somehow erase the smell from existence. You also desperately needed a shower. You were about ninety-nine percent sure there was vomit in your hair. The thought nearly made you gag again.
A second later, the bathroom door opened. Mingi looked much more awake now.
“Why did you slam the door on me?”
The confusion written all over his face would’ve been funny under different circumstances.
“Mingi, get out!”
You immediately regretted not locking the door.
“I need to clean up and take a shower. It’s gross in here. Get out.”
Instead of listening, he casually stepped over the mess and walked toward the shower.
“MINGI! What are you doing?!”
He ignored you completely.
After adjusting the water temperature, he turned around.
“You said you needed a shower. I’m helping.”
Then he walked over. His fingers hooked beneath the hem of your shirt.
“Arms up.”
Slowly, he pulled it over your head before tossing it into the corner.
Honestly… You were a little grateful. There was definitely vomit on it. His hands moved to your hips next, tugging at your shorts and underwear.
“Wait, wait! Stop!”
His hands immediately stilled. Resting against your thighs, he looked up at you. Confused.
“I still need to clean first. I know you’d rather not see it, but I also know you’re not going to magically forget about the puddle of vomit on the floor.”
“Obviously not. It’s kind of hard to miss.”
You groaned.
“I was going to clean it while you were showering.”
Then he resumed removing your remaining clothes. Once again, you were horrified.
“Mingi, you are not cleaning up my throw up!”
You tried stepping away. He simply caught your wrist and gently pulled you back.
“Do you really think a little vomit is going to scare me?”
The amusement in his voice only made your embarrassment worse. Without waiting for an answer, he guided you into the shower and shut the door behind you.
The water temperature was perfect, by the way.
“Take your time. Let me know if you need any help.”
Ugh.
If there had been anything left in your stomach, your embarrassment would’ve brought it back up.
Though honestly… Mingi wasn’t exactly squeamish when it came to bodily fluids.
Still.
You took his advice and stood beneath the warm water for several minutes. The heat soaked into your aching muscles.
You felt exhausted. Weak. Heavy. Eventually, you started washing your hair. You quickly realized just how drained you were. Your arms felt like they weighed a hundred pounds as you tried to work shampoo through your scalp.
Your legs weren’t much better. You honestly felt like you might collapse. The shower door suddenly opened. You jumped. Mingi’s eyes immediately swept over you.
“I told you to let me know if you needed help.”
He reached inside and shut off the water.
“Mingi, I still have shampoo—”
He ignored your protest completely. Taking your hand, he carefully guided you out. You felt like some slimy fish he’d just caught.
“MINGI!”
Without a word, he carried you across the bathroom. The large soaking tub was already filled. Conveniently. He lowered you into the water like you weighed nothing.
“Sit.”
You sank into the warm water. It reached nearly to your neck. The custom tub Mingi had insisted on getting was large enough for both of you, but right now it felt like heaven.
“I was fine,” you muttered.
He simply knelt behind the tub. Sure. You were fine. Then he started massaging shampoo into your scalp.
The fight instantly left your body.
“Thank you, Min.”
He smiled. His fingers worked carefully through your hair, scratching and massaging your scalp. You couldn’t help the soft groans that escaped you.
Every ache in your head seemed to melt beneath his touch. After rinsing out the shampoo, he worked conditioner through your hair and clipped it up.
Then he drained some of the water until it sat around your waist. Immediately, you shivered.
“Min, it’s cold.”
“I know. I’ll be done soon.”
He grabbed your body wash and washcloth. Starting at your neck, he carefully washed your skin.
Your shoulders. Your arms. Your back. Your chest.
That part required significantly more self-control than he’d like to admit.
In Mingi’s head, the same thought repeated over and over:
She’s sick.Now is not the time.
She’s sick. Now is not the time.
Mingi had excellent self-control when he wanted to.
Once your upper body was finished, he helped you stand for a few moments while he washed the rest of you.
He was gentle. Thorough. Attentive.
When he finally finished, he rinsed away the soap and conditioner before draining the tub completely. Then he wrapped you in a fluffy towel and lifted you right back into his arms.
The bathroom was spotless. He really had cleaned everything while you’d been standing in the shower.
You felt another wave of embarrassment. And affection.
Back in the bedroom, Mingi helped dry you off and found a fresh pair of pajamas. Then he carefully blow-dried your hair until it was no longer dripping wet.
By the time he finished, you felt warm. Comfortable. Sleepy. His hands had been gentle and warm showering you with love through every touch.
You leaned back against his chest.
“Thank you.”
His arms wrapped around you immediately.
“Of course.”
His chin rested on your shoulder. Then his lips brushed the skin beneath your ear.
“Feeling any better?”
His deep voice sent shivers through your body.
“A little.”
You sighed.
“My body hurts. I feel really weak.”
He nodded. Then immediately got to work. Mingi tucked you into bed before returning with medicine and water. Once you’d taken everything, he guided you onto your stomach.
“What are you doing?”
“Helping.”
You laughed softly.
Then his hands settled against your feet.
For the next hour, Mingi gave you a full-body massage.
He started at your feet and slowly worked upward. Ankles. Calves. Thighs. Hips. Lower back. Shoulders. Neck. Arms.
He paid special attention to every sore muscle he found. Whenever you whimpered or flinched, he’d linger there until the tension eased.
The entire time, he kept talking to you.
Checking in. Making sure he wasn’t hurting you. Asking if it felt good or if he should ease up. By the time he finished, your body felt completely relaxed. His touch lingered long after his hands left your skin. You fell asleep almost immediately.
The next morning, you woke feeling significantly better. Honestly, part of you wondered if the entire night had been some strange fever dream. But no. Mingi was already awake. Carefully making breakfast. A little while later, he appeared carrying a tray. A bowl of porridge. Medicine. Water. Everything you’d need.
“It’s bland,” he admitted, setting the tray down. “But I thought it’d be easier on your stomach.”
You smiled.
“Thank you.”
He sat beside you and immediately picked up the spoon.
You blinked.
“Mingi…”
“What?”
“I can feed myself.”
His eyebrow lifted.
“Last night you couldn’t even wash your own hair because your arms were too tired.”
You opened your mouth. Then closed it. Fair.
“Let me take care of you.”
Honestly, you didn’t have the energy to argue. So you let him.
Mingi looked entirely too pleased with himself. Every thank you and every bit of praise made his chest puff up with pride.
You made sure to tell him often how much you appreciated him. How much better he made you feel. How loved he made you feel.
“I’ll always take good care of you, Princess,” he said confidently.
You leaned fully against him.
“I know you will, Min.”
A soft smile crossed your face.
“I love you, baby.”
His arms tightened around you immediately.
“ me too “
Wooyoung 1.8k words
Recently, your cousin went back to work after her maternity leave and asked if you and Wooyoung could babysit her kids on Fridays. Since the two of you absolutely adored your little cousins, you agreed immediately.
It had been about a month since you started watching them every Friday. You always knew Wooyoung loved kids, but something about having them in your home every week seemed to short-circuit his brain.
The very first Friday they came over, he emptied the spare bedroom.
“What are you doing?” you asked, watching him carry out boxes.
“Making the kids a room.”
You blinked.
Wooyoung paused before giving you an innocent smile.
“ for the little ones, I was thinking maybe they can come over more often or you know it’s just good to have.. “
That should have been your first warning sign.
The next week he came home with a crib. Then a stroller. Then baby clothes. Then bottles. Then diapers. Then more baby clothes. When you questioned him, he always had an excuse.
“It was on sale. It’s good to have around. You never know when you’ll need it.”
Apparently, according to Wooyoung, you never knew when you might suddenly need enough baby supplies to stock a small daycare.
Every Friday became his favorite day of the week.
Your cousin would drop the kids off early in the morning and pick them up late that night. From the moment they arrived, Wooyoung had an entire schedule planned.
He made breakfast. Changed diapers. Read books. Sang nursery songs. Took them on walks. Played bubbles and sidewalk chalk. Made sure they had snacks every few hours.
Not once had you changed a diaper yourself. Wooyoung practically sprinted to every diaper emergency before you could even stand up.
Watching him with them was honestly adorable.
The kids adored him. You adored him. And unfortunately, all of this seemed to trigger an extreme case of baby fever.
Nap time quickly became your most dangerous time of day. Once both kids were asleep and tucked into bed for their afternoon naps, Wooyoung immediately turned his attention to you.
It was like a switch flipped.
The second he had free time, he was attached to your side. Kissing you. Holding you. Touching you. And talking. Constantly talking.
“Baby, you’d be such a good mom.”
“You know that, right?”
“You look really good holding babies.”
“Wooyoung.”
“I’m serious.”
“You say that every day.”
“Because it’s true.”
It only got worse as the weeks passed. Every weekend seemed to consist of Wooyoung wrapped around you, cuddling you, kissing you, and occasionally begging you to let him put a baby in you.
You loved him. You really did. But you were starting to suspect he had forgotten one very important detail.
You were still on birth control. The two of you had already agreed on a timeline. Eventually. Not now.
Unfortunately, baby-fever Wooyoung seemed convinced his determination and magic sperm alone could override modern medicine.
You couldn’t help but indulge him a little during his more sub space deep moments. Mostly because watching him get so excited was cute. Ridiculous. But cute.
After about a month of this, however, the constant affection, lack of personal space, and Wooyoung’s seemingly endless energy had started taking a toll on you.
Which was why Monday morning hit you like a truck.
You woke up to soft kisses being pressed against your forehead and cheeks. Wooyoung’s hands gently traced over your arms and waist.
“Morning, baby.”
You smiled sleepily. Then suddenly froze. A wave of nausea slammed into you.
“Oh no.”
You practically launched yourself out of bed and sprinted for the bathroom.
Thankfully, you made it in time. Barely.
By the time Wooyoung caught up, you were kneeling in front of the toilet, miserably throwing up. Immediately, he gathered your hair back and rubbed soothing circles over your back.
“It’s okay, baby. It’s okay.” You felt awful. Your throat burned. Your stomach hurt. Your entire body ached.
Afterward, he helped you wash up and tucked you back into bed before calling out of work for both of you.
The next two days weren’t much better. You were nauseous. Exhausted. Moody. Everything hurt. Certain smells made you sick.
The first time Wooyoung tried cooking, you ended up running to the bathroom halfway through. After that, he became much more careful. Seaweed soup seemed to settle your stomach the best. He also made soft porridge, warm broth, fruit, crackers, and anything else you thought you could keep down.
Whenever your back hurt, he rubbed it. Whenever your legs ached, he massaged them. Whenever you wanted ice cream, somehow there was already ice cream waiting for you. Through all of it, he never once complained. He simply took care of you.
By the third day, you were finally starting to feel better. Your nausea had mostly settled, and while you were still tired, you no longer felt like death every time you sat up. Which was why you were very confused when Wooyoung walked into the bedroom that morning and announced:
“Get dressed.”
You looked up from your phone.
“What?”
“Get dressed.”
“Why?”
He looked at you like the answer was obvious.
“We have a doctor’s appointment.”
You immediately groaned.
“Woo, I’m fine. I feel so much better.”
He crossed his arms.
“You’ve been throwing up for two days.”
“I had the flu.”
“You’ve been nauseous.”
“I was sick.”
“You’ve been moody.”
“I always get moody when I’m sick.”
“You’ve had cravings.”
“I wanted seaweed soup!”
Wooyoung simply stared at you. You stared back. Neither of you moved. Eventually, he pointed toward the closet.
“Get dressed.”
You sighed dramatically. Unfortunately, he refused to back down. So an hour later, you found yourself sitting in the passenger seat of his car. You didn’t think much of it until he pulled into the parking lot.
Then your eyes widened. No. Absolutely not. There was no way.
“Wooyoung.”
He smiled.
“Yes, baby?”
“What are we doing at an OBGYN?”
His smile somehow grew even brighter. You were horrified.
“It’s important to start checkups early.”
You just stared at him. Completely speechless. He genuinely thought you were pregnant.
The man had lost his mind.
Still in shock, you allowed him to lead you inside. The receptionist checked you in without issue, and before you knew it, you were sitting in an exam room waiting for the doctor. When she finally entered, she greeted both of you warmly.
“So, what brings you in today?”
Before you could answer, Wooyoung sat up straighter.
“We’re here for her first checkup.”
You closed your eyes. The doctor smiled.
“Oh, congratulations! How far along do you think you are?”
You opened your eyes.
Wooyoung looked at you expectantly. You looked at Wooyoung. Then back at the doctor.
“I’m so sorry,” you said immediately. “I’m not pregnant.”
The doctor blinked. Wooyoung blinked.
“I’m on birth control,” you continued. “I’ve never taken a pregnancy test. I didn’t even know we were coming here today.”
The room fell silent.
“What are you talking about?” Wooyoung asked.
You turned toward him.
“What am I talking about?”
“Baby, you’ve had morning sickness.”
“I’ve been sick.”
“You’ve been nauseous.”
“I had the flu.”
“You’ve had cravings.”
“I wanted soup!”
The doctor looked between the two of you before quickly stepping in.
“Okay,” she said carefully. “How about we cover all our bases?” You immediately nodded. She continued.
“We’ll run a flu test, a pregnancy test, and do a general wellness check. That way we’ll know exactly what’s going on.”
“Perfect,” you said.
“Perfect,” Wooyoung agreed.
The doctor handed you a sample cup.
“We’ll start with this.”
You stood up and headed toward the bathroom. Unfortunately, footsteps followed behind you. You turned. Wooyoung was right there.
“What are you doing?”
“I can help.”
“Help with what?”
“I can hold the cup.”
You stared at him. He stared back. Completely serious.
“Hold the cup?”
“Yeah.”
“Wooyoung.”
“Baby?”
“If you don’t walk away right now, I’m going to bite you.”
He finally seemed to realize this was not the correct answer. Slowly, he backed away. You shut the bathroom door before he could say anything else. When you returned, the doctor collected the sample and began the rest of the examination.
Then came the waiting.
Thirty long minutes. Thirty minutes of Wooyoung holding your hand. Thirty minutes of him rubbing your thigh. Thirty minutes of him talking excitedly about baby names. Thirty minutes of him showing you strollers. Thirty minutes of him adding maternity clothes, baby furniture, and enough newborn supplies to fill an entire nursery into online shopping carts. You had managed to stop him from actually purchasing anything. Barely.
The entire time, your heart ached a little. You knew how badly he wanted this someday. You knew how amazing he would be as a father. But someday wasn’t today. Eventually, the doctor returned.
You squeezed Wooyoung’s hand tightly.
“The pregnancy test came back negative.”
You felt his shoulders drop immediately. For a moment, neither of you said anything. Then the doctor continued.
“However, your flu test came back positive.” You slowly turned your head toward Wooyoung.
Told you. The doctor went over treatment recommendations, encouraged rest, fluids, and vitamins, and reassured you that Wooyoung had been doing an excellent job taking care of you.
After wishing you a speedy recovery, she left. The drive home was quiet. The moment the car doors shut, Wooyoung cracked. Tears filled his eyes as he wrapped his arms around you.
“I’m sorry, baby.”
You immediately hugged him back.
“I know.”
“I can’t believe I did that.”
You laughed.
“I can.”
He groaned.
“I was so sure.”
“You took me to an OBGYN.”
“I know.”
“You tried to hold the cup.” His face immediately disappeared into your shoulder.
“Oh my God.” You laughed harder.
By the time you got home, he had you tucked into bed, wrapped in blankets, and pulled securely against his chest. The conversation about future babies could wait. Tonight, you just wanted cuddles. A little while later, you called your cousin to let her know the kids probably shouldn’t come over Friday since you had the flu.
“Oh no,” she said immediately. “I forgot to tell you! We took them to the doctor Monday. Both of them tested positive for the flu.”
You froze. Slowly, you turned your head. Wooyoung looked back at you. His face turned bright red. Silence. More silence.
Finally, he buried his face into a pillow. “Oh my God.”
You couldn’t help it. You laughed until your stomach hurt. The kids had the flu. You had the flu.
And Wooyoung had somehow managed to convince himself he’d beaten birth control.Honestly?You were never letting him live this down.
Jongho 1.2k words
“Y’know, you’ve been extra annoying lately.”
Jongho looked at you with a bewildered expression.
“Don’t look at me like that. You know exactly what I’m talking about. You’ve been nagging me nonstop lately.” You told him.
“I have not been nagging you,” he said immediately.
“Yes, you have.”
“No, I haven’t.”
“Yes, you have.” You argued.
Jongho stared at you for a moment before letting out a sigh.
“Why are you starting a fight? First of all, I haven’t been nagging you. Second, I asked if you were feeling okay because you’ve been coughing a lot, and you argued that you weren’t. Then later I asked if you’d taken any medicine for your cough, and you said no because you don’t have a cough. Even though I literally heard you coughing. Explain that to me.”
You couldn’t help smiling. You loved when he got worked up.
Not that you were trying to do it intentionally this time. You genuinely didn’t know what he was talking about. You felt fine.
“I’m not starting a fight because there’s nothing to fight about,” you argued.
“You’re unbelievable.”
You grinned.
“Thank you.”
The look he gave you made it seem like he wanted to strangle you a little. And unfortunately, not in the way you liked :(
“Seriously though,” you continued, “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I feel fine. I haven’t even noticed myself coughing. You’d think I’d know if I was coughing.”
“You would think,” he muttered.
You huffed and crossed your arms.
“You know what? Fine. If you say you’re fine, then you’re fine.”
The tone of his voice told you he absolutely did not believe that. As the day went on, you continued coughing and clearing your throat without even realizing it. Every single time. And every single time, Jongho noticed. You somehow didn’t.
That night was even worse.
Jongho understood not noticing during the day, but once you started coughing in your sleep, it became impossible to ignore. The sound kept waking him up throughout the night.
By three in the morning, he was already predicting exactly how the next day would go. Sore throat. Runny nose. Complaining. And, most importantly, refusing to admit he had been right.
Sure enough, the next morning your throat felt awful. Your nose was somehow stuffy and runny at the same time, and your entire body felt sluggish.
What the hell? How had he known?
Unfortunately, there was absolutely no way you were admitting that after making such a big deal yesterday. Maybe you could sneak some medicine before he noticed. Because if he caught you, you’d never hear the end of it. You felt him move beside you.
“Good morning. Sleep well?”
His voice was still rough with sleep, but there was a very noticeable hint of smugness underneath it.
Dammit. You cleared your throat quickly.
“Uh… yeah. I slept fine. How about you?”
“Hm.”
The sound alone was suspicious. You studied him more carefully.
“You look tired.”
His eyebrows lifted.
“Do I? Hm. I wonder why.”
You groaned. Immediately regretting it as the vibration made your throat hurt even more. Obnoxiously enough, he had been right. Again.
“How are your plans looking today?” he asked.
You had errands to run. At least, you had planned to. Now? You didn’t really want to leave the bed.
“Maybe…” You turned toward him and wrapped your arms around his waist. “Maybe we could just stay in bed today?”
His fingers slipped into your hair.
“Is that what you think will make you feel better?”
Ugh. He was never letting this go.
“I always feel better when I’m with you,” you answered sweetly, avoiding the question entirely. His hand moved slowly down your back.
“Is that right?”
“Mmhm.”
“I have an idea that might make you feel even better.”
His hand drifted lower. You stiffened. Your eyes lifted to meet his. He was watching you carefully. Like he could see straight through you.
“What’s that?” you asked quietly.
Your fingers tightened around his shirt. Jongho leaned down, his lips brushing the top of your head before moving closer to your ear.
“Medicine.”
You immediately buried your face in his chest. He sat back up looking entirely too pleased with himself. He knew he’d won.
“So annoying,” you mumbled.
His laugh rumbled through his chest.
A few minutes later, he returned with medicine and a glass of water. After making sure you took it, he asked what you wanted for breakfast. You weren’t very hungry, but you figured something light would probably help. You offered to help cook.
Jongho reached out, brushing his thumb over your temple before tracing the dry drool running from the corner of your mouth down your cheek.
“I don’t mind cooking,” he said. “But maybe you should take care of this first.”
Your face immediately burned. He laughed. Actually laughed at you.
Then walked into the kitchen while you hurried off to the bathroom.
By the time you came out, breakfast was ready. Tofu soup and rolled eggs. Simple. Comforting. Exactly what you needed.
After eating, the two of you ended up back in bed. Jongho tried very hard not to look smug. He mostly failed.
Still, he spent the day doing whatever you wanted. Watching movies. Cuddling. Letting you steal all the blankets.
At some point during the movie, he fell asleep. The quiet eventually pulled you under too.
You woke up hours later. Medicine. Lunch. More water. More medicine. Then the couch.
You curled up in his lap while he scrolled through his phone, his fingers absentmindedly running through your hair. Apparently that was enough to put you to sleep again.
When you woke up this time, it was dark. And you were back in bed. Confused, you sat up. You didn’t remember walking here. Which probably meant Jongho had carried you. You shuffled out to the living room and found him sitting at his computer.
“You have a nice nap, sleepyhead?”
“Did I seriously sleep that long?”
“You seriously did.”
You groaned and stretched. Every muscle in your body felt stiff.
You immediately walked over and dropped onto the couch beside him, resting your head against his shoulder. A small wave of guilt hit you. You’d spent most of the weekend sleeping. And the rest of it complaining.
Not exactly fun for him. As if sensing what you were thinking, Jongho reached over and squeezed your hand.
“I’m glad you’re sleeping.”
You looked up at him.
“You need the rest,” he said. “If it was up to your brain, you’d probably be dead by now.”
You gasped. “Wow. Thanks.”
“You’re welcome.”
“Very funny.”
“I thought so.” he bickered with you.
You narrowed your eyes. He smiled. That same smug smile. The one he’d been wearing since yesterday.
“God, you’re annoying.”
His grin widened.
“That’s funny.”
“What is?”
“I seem to remember you saying ‘thank you’ when I called you unbelievable yesterday.”
You groaned and buried your face in his shoulder. Jongho’s laughter filled the room as he wrapped an arm around you and pulled you closer. Unfortunately, he was still right. And somehow that made him even more annoying.
Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction created for entertainment purposes only. The portrayals of the members are fictionalized and do not reflect the real personalities, actions, beliefs, or relationships of the members of ATEEZ. This story is not intended to represent reality in any way.
Eywa's Daughter
.⋆♱ NETEYAM x fem!reader | angst
A/N | i started writing this at the end of january, and i finally got around to finishing it. i can't believe neteyam is the one who brings me out of my stump lmfao. anyways i hope u guys can tell how much love i put into this... ohh neteyam...
SYNOPSIS | grief and survival collide when you, a displaced sätareym warrior, find refuge among the omatikaya and the son of the great dreamwalker oloeyktan. confusing feelings for neteyam grow despite your refusal to believe eywa had any hand in your path.
CONTENT WARNINGS | canon divergence, neteyam is so down bad, heavy grief, cultural displacement, religious trauma, avoidance, panic attack, romantic tension, kissing, emotional overload, self doubt, running away from feelings
WORD COUNT: 18.4k
Sätareym — from na’vi roots inspired by säta (hunt) and reym (dry land). the name translates loosely to hunters of the dry land.
You stopped believing in Eywa long before the fires reached the horizon.
Most children of the plains grew up beneath a sky so vast it seemed to cradle their hope, told again and again by elders that the wind carried Eywa’s breath and the glowing lines of your clan’s rosette-patterned tanhi mirrored her watchful eyes. Yet hope had slipped from you early, falling away like ash shaken from a dying ember. The stories never matched the world you saw. The stories never saved anyone. You remembered your tsahìk kneeling beneath the rising sun, his palms pressed to the scorched earth as he whispered prayers meant to steady the clan’s heartbeat. His low voice, soothing like wind in tall grass, had once filled you with comfort, but eventually you learned to hear its hollowness. His words carried reverence, but they were swallowed without answer. Each time he called upon Eywa to guide the herds or bring water or protect the young, the sky stretched above without stirring, brilliant, indifferent, vaster than grief. The Sätareym believed Eywa moved in wind currents, in far horizons, in the breath of distance itself , yet no wind shifted when your parents fell. No horizon opened to spare them. No presence rose from the plains to shield them from metal and flame.
Two years since “Okay, Captain, kick that shit let’s go!” and the greatest performance of Guerrilla they’ve ever done
laptop
[ J. Yunho ]
╚═════════
summary: in which your boyfriend was too tired to hide your sex tape on his laptop
warning: oral, fingering, squirting, voyeurism
genre: smut
pairing: idol yunho x afab reader x ateez watches
word count: 3.1k
masterlist
═════════ ═════════ ═════════
Tokyo was still glowing outside the hotel windows when Yunho shoved his laptop into Yeosang’s hands like a man already running late. “Hurry up,” Hongjoong called from the hallway, half dressed, hat low over his eyes while managers tried to herd everyone downstairs before traffic got worse. “If we miss check in again I’m leaving somebody in Japan.”
What a question!?!? 😎😏🤣
I knew THIS style would be his favorite
After another soul-draining day at her corporate HR job, Y/N stumbles into a small underground bar to escape the exhaustion swallowing her whole. There she meets Yunho, a magnetic guitarist from a famous rock band and spends one unforgettable night wandering through the city with a stranger who makes her feel alive again.
What begins as a reckless decision slowly turns into something neither of them expected: a place to breathe.
Pairing: Jeong Yunho × Reader (Y/N)
Tropes: Rockstar AU, Strangers to Lovers, Opposites Attract, Late Night City Romance, Found Family, Emotional Healing, Soft Slow Burn, Falling in Love Before Realizing It
Genre: Romance, Slice of Life, Drama, Emotional/Character Driven, Contemporary AU, Slow Burn
Featuring: Ateez as Yunhos Band Mates or Friends, Y/ns Childhood friend
Main Masterlist | Yunhos Masterlist
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5
This is Part 4
For a few seconds after Y/N disappeared behind the apartment door, Yunho genuinely could not move.
Rain tapped softly against the hood of the car beside him while cold night air settled damp against his skin.
The building entrance stayed closed.