I'm Dacey, but you can call me pretty much anything, I am old, I'm in my late 30s and have stage 4 cancer so I am on an irregular posting schedule all I can ask is for your patience.
Currently I only write for Stray Kids and Ateez but I will probably add on to that as time goes on.
I really enjoy K-Pop. I love Stray Kids and Ateez but I listen to so many other groups. Huge Star Wars fan literally will talk to you for hours about it if you let me.
This blog is 18+ I am not responsible for your online life but I will block you if you are underage
All works are categorized by what they contain some works are not suitable for minors to interact with these are marked as 🔞. You are responsible for your own media consumption.
Some of my work does have community warnings so if you have filters set to exclude that you won't be able to see it.
Pairing: Seonghwa x 9th member reader (platonic)
Word Count: 1.1K
Genre: fluff
Warnings: none
It's the first interviews with the press since your addition to the group but you don't feel well and someone notices.
The stylists had already commented twice that you looked pale.
You’d laughed it off both times. “It’s just the early call time,” you insisted, smiling as your makeup noona touched up your concealer. “I’m fine.”
Truthfully, you felt awful. The sore throat that had bothered you the night before had blossomed into a full-body ache. Every joint felt heavy, your head throbbed behind your eyes, and simply sitting in the makeup chair felt exhausting. This was your first day of interviews as the official new member of Ateez; you couldn’t let the others down after months of preparations, and the last thing you wanted was to become “the member who couldn’t keep up.”
So you smiled on cue, you performed through rehearsal, you filmed the interview and answered every question as happily as you could manage, you even managed to laugh when the cameras rolled.
You didn’t realize that Seonghwa noticed every second of it.
He noticed how your smile was slower than usual, and that you kept rubbing your arms during breaks. He even noticed that while everyone crowded around the monitor to watch the playback, you sat quietly on the floor against the wall, eyes closed. Most of all, he noticed that you almost nodded off while standing.
The second rehearsal ended, and everyone started chatting excitedly, but Seonghwa was already walking toward you. “Hey.”
You opened your eyes sleepily. “Hm?”
“Come here.” He motioned to you from where he was standing.
Confused, you just looked up at him. “Huh?”
He crouched in front of you. “Come here,” he repeated gently. “You look like you’re about to collapse.”
“I’m okay,” you protested tiredly.
“No, you aren’t.” His voice wasn’t stern, but it carried that soft authority he used when he was worried.
You tried to smile. “I can do the next schedule.”
“You can barely keep your eyes open.” He smiled softly.
“I’m not tired.” You tried to reassure him
He raised an eyebrow. “Sweetheart, you just fell asleep sitting up.”
You blinked. “…I did?”
Seonghwa sighed fondly. “Yes.”
Before you could protest further, he pressed the back of his hand to your forehead. His expression immediately changed. “You’re too warm.”
“I’m okay.” You pout, not wanting any fuss.
“You have a fever.” He pointed it out, frowning.
“Seonghwa hyung, I’m alright,” you tried to plead your case to move on.
“No.” It wasn’t harsh, but it was final. “You’re resting.”
“But…” you argued stubbornly albeit quietly.
“Resting.” The others noticed the pair of you in conversation and wandered over.
“What happened?” Yunho asked.
“She’s sick,” Seonghwa answered immediately.
Eight heads whipped toward you.
“Sick?!” Wooyoung practically shrieked.
“You should've told us!” San frowned, worrying his lower lip.
“You've been coughing all morning!” Jongho added raising his eyebrows in mild judgement.
“I thought it was allergies…” You sighed in defeat, you realized there was no escaping it now that they all knew.
Seonghwa stood and addressed the group. “Mission.”
Hongjoong immediately caught on. “What do you need?”
“Medicine, sports drinks, fruit, soup, snacks she likes, and something for her throat.” Seonghwa listed off on his long fingers.
Mingi saluted dramatically. “Yes, mother.”
“I'm serious.” Seonghwa rolled his eyes.
“So am I.” Mingi grinned.
Within seconds, everyone was arguing over who got to buy what.
“I’ll get medicine!”
“No, I know which kind she likes!”
“She needs porridge!”
“What snacks?”
“Hot packs!”
“You always forget tissues!”
Meanwhile, Seonghwa had already wrapped his hoodie around your shoulders. “Up,” he said softly.
“Where?” you asked in resignation.
“To the green room.” He continued guiding you forward.
“I have the next…” you interrupted.
“You have a nap.” He gently ordered, his tone telling you not to argue further, and you, in all honesty, were too tired to argue.
He guided you carefully, one hand on your back, his movements naturally protective. By the time you reached the waiting room, your legs felt shaky. “Sit.” You obeyed. Seonghwa grabbed spare blankets from the couch and tucked them around you.
“You know everyone is going to fuss…” You groaned before looking up at him.
“Good.” He sat beside you and brushed your hair away from your forehead. “You take care of all of us,” he said quietly. “You don't have to earn being looked after.”
Your eyes stung. “I didn't want everyone thinking I couldn't handle it.”
Seonghwa looked genuinely saddened. “Who told you that?”
“No one, I just don't want to be a burden.” You shrugged listlessly.
“Then don't tell yourself that either.” His thumb gently wiped away the tears gathering in your eyes. “You're part of this family now. You're not alone.”
You sniffled. “I feel guilty.”
“For getting sick?” Seonghwa chuckled softly; all you could do was nod. “You know what happened when San had the flu? Half of us got sick because none of us stayed away from him.”
You laughed weakly.
“And when Mingi caught a cold?” Seonghwa asked, pointedly.
“He insisted he wasn't sick until he sneezed on Hongjoong.” You remembered that one because it was both funny and disgusting.
“And Wooyoung?” Seonghwa continued knowingly
“Complained like he was dying.” You huffed a small laugh.
“Exactly.” Seonghwa smiled. “Being sick happens.” Your eyes were already drooping. “You should sleep.”
“What if they need me?” You tried to reason again.
“They need you healthy.” Seonghwa sighed; he reached over and dimmed the lights. “I'll wake you if the building catches fire.”
You smiled. “Promise?”
“Promise.” He laughed musically.
Within minutes you drifted off. When you woke again, the room smelled like soup; you blinked blearily and found Seonghwa still beside you. He'd moved to the floor so you could stretch out across the couch, his phone abandoned in his lap. The moment he saw your eyes open, he smiled.
“Hi, Sleeping Beauty.” Seonghwa joked, moving to place his hand on your forehead.
“What time is it?” You yawned.
“Two hours later,” he answered casually, smiling that you didn’t feel as warm anymore.
“Two what?” You spluttered, sitting upright.
“You needed it,” he nonchalantly shrugged.
The door suddenly burst open.
“She’s awake!” Wooyoung came charging in, carrying three shopping bags.
Behind him were Yunho with drinks, San with snacks, Jongho with fruit, Mingi carrying enough medicine to supply a pharmacy, Yeosang with tissues and hot packs, Hongjoong with soup containers, and even staff members trying not to laugh at the sight.
“We brought everything!”
“We got your favorite chips!”
“I bought honey tea!”
“Eat the strawberries first!”
“You need vitamin C!”
“Drink water!”
Eight voices immediately filled the room, instantly making you stare at them, overwhelmed.
Seonghwa laughed softly beside you. “See?” He handed you a spoon and smiled warmly. “Told you.”
Surrounded by eight worried members arguing over soup temperatures and medicine instructions, wrapped in Seonghwa’s hoodie and still half asleep, you realized something.
You weren't just the new member anymore. You were part of the family, and family, apparently, came with seven overprotective brothers and one angel named Seonghwa who never let you suffer alone.
a/n: Thank you for reading my lovelies your support, likes, reblogs, comments and endless love give me the will to live in a major way xxx
it literally doesn’t matter if you’re in your 20s or 30s or 40s or 50s or 60s or 70s or 80s or fucking 90s. if you’re still alive, you literally still have that chance in your hands. don’t let your mind or anyone or anything trick you into thinking otherwise!!!!
Pairing: Pirate San x Reader
Word Count: 4.2K
Genre: Fantasy AU, Slow Burn Romance
Warnings: 18+, MDNI, Swearing,
I thought that I knew love. But it was just the waves crashing over us ~ Waves by The Dear Hunter
"What sort of danger?" Jongho asked, pointedly looking at his captain and friend, who until they had docked in this small port would have blindly followed until the end of time.
"In the 'myths', sea nymphs used to kill sailors that threatened their home or their mate. They are loyal above all else to the one they love and will even abandon family to remain beside their chosen mate," Hongjoong explained, carefully watching each of his crew members.
"You mean San?" Wooyoung blinked slowly, his face slowly becoming more alarmed. "You had put San in the firing line of a mythical sea creature's obsession?"
"Well, he won't care if he falls for her too," Mingi shrugged, looking less bothered than he should have.
"That doesn't explain the danger to us though." Jongho narrowed his eyes slightly.
"If we are a threat to San, then she will become a danger to us, but anything that is not a threat to him should be fine." Seonghwa continued taking over the conversation seamlessly "But this is all theoretical. If she is only half nymph or something else entirely, we may have zero issues."
"Does San know this? Have you told him anything about this?" Yeosang asked sceptically, his eyebrows rising when Hongjoong didn't meet his gaze.
Hongjoong cleared his throat "I told him that if she interests him, then he should pursue her."
Wooyoung ran his hand down his face "Captain, I will actually kill you in your sleep if this goes badly for him."
The ship had settled back into a gentle, almost non-existent bobbing since you had been returned to the cabin. Yunho's face showed confusion and worry, but all you could really focus on was the heat radiating from San's body every time he got close to you, dunking the cloth that lay across your forehead in cool water and ringing it out before placing it back on your skin.
"I don't fully understand what is happening here," Yunho whispered, his eyes meeting San's.
"But you can help her, though? Right?" San knew his voice sounded more panicked than it should, but he didn't care; Yunho was never going to judge him for being protective of you.
"I think we need more than I can give her." Yunho swallowed, watching you close your eyes again like you were simply falling asleep, not suffering from whatever the hell had just happened in the galley. "We need an old healer who has seen more than me."
"The crone from the apothecary? She was angry last time, and we didn't have her assistant half-conscious on the ship. She will lose the plot completely if she knows she's here," San protested, his eyebrows shooting up his forehead at the suggestion.
"Or she helps us just to get her back off the ship. Either way, she needs more help than I can give her and she needs someone who understands the mythical as well as the medical." Yunho explained, already knowing that San would bang on every door in the village if it meant saving you.
San pondered Yunho's words while stroking your hair. The feeling of warmth in his chest was growing by the hour, and if it continued, he was never going to be able to leave your side. "Just don't let the captain know," he breathed, flicking his eyes to his friend, who nodded. "I'll be back as fast as I can."
San stood and grabbed the thick woollen coat that he had given to you earlier, throwing it on before striding from the room with purpose. It was going to be a rough night once he found the woman he had met in the apothecary the day he had first met you. He had managed to get off the ship before anyone had noticed, except maybe Seonghwa; he saw almost everything, and wound his way down the cobblestone roads until he reached his destination. The door was locked tight, and the candles that lit the windows had almost burnt out, meaning he had missed finding his target by a fairly large amount of time. So, steadying his racing heart, he went to the next best place to find people. The pub. The locals quietened when he stepped through the smoked-glass-pained door but started up again when they realized he was alone; a single pirate doesn't tend to cause problems unlike a crew of them, and stepped up to the bar.
"Can I help you, sir?" the publican asked, looking him over carefully.
"Hopefully, I'm looking for the woman who runs the apothecary. I'm in need of some treatment that she probably would find easy." San explained, sliding some silver coins across the stained wooden bar
"I think old Salvia wouldn't be up for helping you, sir; she doesn't really like pirates, you see." He replied, taking the offered coins, "but you can always ask her, and hope for the best." He gestured towards a booth at the far end of the bar, bathed in thick shadow; only the light of a single candle flickered on the edge closest to the room. San nodded in thanks and made his way towards the darkened seat.
"I told you before, boy, leave me be." She huffed before he had even gotten all the way across the room.
"I know, and I wouldn't ask if it were for me, but it's for someone we both know; she needs more help than our medic can give her." He pleaded, his voice low enough that only she would hear.
"What have you done!" She snapped, the candle flickering wildly as she smacked her hands on the table, the room quieting under the simmering anger in Salvia's eyes.
"Me? Nothing, but she spoke with my Captain and something strange happened. Then she became too tired to walk. Please, you have to help her; I can't get her off the ship alone." San dropped his entire coin skin onto the table; the metallic clank loud even in the crowded room.
"I don't want your money, but I will help her, only her." Salvia stood, her long shawl swishing as she moved into the light "I'll need you to tell me everything, and I'll need my supplies."
Agreeing silently, San followed her back into the cold, salt-filled air up the narrow street to Salvia's apothecary. She proceeded to fill a large, heavily worn leather medical bag, which put Yunho's supply bag to shame, with every bottle, balm and herb within reach.
"Did you want me to carry that for you?" San asked cautiously, eyeing the increasingly filling bag, then the crone of a woman filling it.
Salvia glared at him again, "Be careful with it, I won't have you ruining a week's supply of herbs and salves because you are clumsy".
"I can be very careful." San pouted sullenly as Salvia thrust the bag into his arms "I just need you to help her. If being near me, well us, makes her sick, then you need to help her."
Saliva paused for a moment, taking in the sincerity on San's face; perhaps he wasn't as bad as his captain, she mused behind her mask of indifference. Her only concern was you and why you were on that wretched captain's ship to begin with. San led the way, carrying the supplies and lending a steadying arm whenever the streets grew steep or wet until they reached the gangway of the ship, his ship.
"Will you swear to me that you will keep her safe and get her off this ship in one piece?" Salvia uttered lowly, looking up the large wooden ramp.
"I will get you and her off this ship even if it means I lose my place onboard", San swore earnestly, meeting Salvia's eyes.
"What is your name again, boy?" Salvia softened slightly, his concern for you more genuine than she had initially realized.
"San." He smiled a small smile.
“Call me Sylvia,” she muttered, taking his arm to steady herself.
San took a deep breath before helping Salvia up the ramp and onto the ship. It was still deserted when he looked around the deck, and it remained that way all the way to his cabin, where he opened the door to find you sleeping, wrapped in his sheets with Yunho nowhere to be found.
Salvia rushed to your side, beckoning San to follow and place her bag down on the floor for her. "Would it be more suspicious for you to remain in here, or should you return to your crew?" she murmured, taking out a vial of light pink liquid and popping the stopper to soak onto a rag.
"I will leave you to it and return when I can" San nodded in understanding, moving back to the door only to shut it securely behind him and come face to face with Seonghwa.
Seonghwa’s eyes narrowed, his arms crossed over his chest as he leaned against the bulkhead. “You’re bringing strangers onto the ship now, San?”
San stiffened, forcing himself not to look back at the closed door behind him. “Her name is Syliva, she’s the healer in this village. She’s the only person who can help.”
Seonghwa glanced at the closed door, then back at San, his voice low. “We’re already drawing attention in this port. If the Hongjoong finds out…”
“I don’t care,” San cut him off. “She needs help. I don’t care if you or Hongjoong have a problem with it; she needs more help than Yunho can manage.”
Seonghwa sighed, the fight leaving his shoulders. “Just… be careful. Hongjoong doesn’t need more trouble. And keep an eye on her. If anything happens…”
“It won’t,” San replied bluntly, more confident than he felt.
Inside the cabin, Salvia pressed the damp, pink-scented rag to your lips, murmuring words you barely understood. The world felt soft around the edges, but her hands were gentle, and the fog in your mind eased with every breath. She worked quickly, methodically, her eyes occasionally darting to the door as if expecting interruption.
Moments later, she leaned back, satisfaction and exhaustion mingling in her expression. “Rest now,” she whispered. “You’ll need your strength for what’s coming.”
Sylvia sat herself on the edge of San’s bunk, her wisened hand holding yours tightly while she listened to the rise and fall of your breathing. The hush of the cabin was only broken by the muted groan of the hull and the faint and distant whisper of waves.
The soft turn of the latch forces Sylivia to look up sharply, softening only a fraction when she meets San’s worried eyes. “Bring your medic, and the one that has been lurking in the passageway” Her voice was tight and unrelenting.
“I can bring you Yunho.” San nods, turning and leaving without any further explanation.
When the latch turns again, only moments later, Sylvia pulls the small knife from her sleeve, her eyes fixed on the slowly opening door. “I knew there was someone else out there; you may as well show yourself.”
Seonghwa’s lean figure slips from the shadows outside the cabin into the light in San’s room. “You have more sense than she did when she insisted I speak to her.” His voice was smooth as he gestured to the knife.
“I have seen your kind before many times in my life, boy. You are not the first to threaten someone I love.” Sylvia’s voice dropped to chillingly low as she looked Seonghwa up and down.
San appeared in the doorway again, this time with the tall one that had appeared in her shop looking for you, “Seonghwa.” He stopped, swallowing hard, the tension in the room palpable.
Yunho glanced around the room. Surprised by how many people were in the tiny cabin. “You asked for me?” He turned to Sylvia “Is she doing better?”
“You did well, medic, but I will teach you what you need to care for her in the times to come,” Salvia says with resignation, ignoring Seonghwa completely. “You are capable at least.”
Yunho looks stunned for a moment before blinking and stepping towards Sylvia “What do you need me to learn? And how will it help her?”
Sylvia paused as Yunho moved, pulling a small stool over from under the desk and placing it in front of her, San grabbing him things to take notes with.
“Blue kelp mixed with sunroot to help her after she loses herself. Dried moonflower petals crushed with lavender and sea moss served as a tea for when the voice is too loud. Essence of abyssal moss with added tide lily for any pain she has.” Sylvia rattled off the list that should cover your largest needs. “I will leave you with a few vials of something that should only be used if she is at death’s door. Do you think you can manage that?”
Yunho writes Sylvia’s instructions down rapidly, knowing he will have to rewrite them later so he can read them clearly. “Blue kelp, sunroot, moonflower petals and lavender we already have; I will stock up on sea moss before we leave. I’ve never made abyssal moss essence but I have a recipe for it.”
“Why does she need all of that?” San frowned. “And what does when the time comes mean?”
Sylvia sighed heavily, “Your captain has not shared his wishes then?” She turned back to check on you once again, her hand brushing your forehead barely registering a response from you. “He knows the legend of Leviathan's Cradle, the treasure that is said to lie there and that only a nymph can safely touch the sands there.”
Seonghwa finally moved from where he was leaning against the rough wooden wall. “What do you know of Leviathan’s Cradle? I haven’t met another soul who remembers that name, let alone the treasure.” He studied Sylvia intently, though remained as well-mannered as ever.
“You forget, boy, that in certain places people remember for generations what others brush off as fantasy and myth. All of the stories come from somewhere; it’s those who remember them that keep them from men like you.” Syliva picked up her medical bag and began rummaging, pulling out a clump of sea moss wrapped tightly in linen, placing it in Yunho’s large hand. “Your captain wants her for her blood; he knows she can speak with the sea; that is why the first time she collapsed she was on this ship.”
San frowned, moving to the foot of his bed, standing between you and Seonghwa, the friend he had trusted for years. “What does she mean, Seonghwa?”
“The night Hongjoong met her, the sea was calm; when he spoke to her, the waves rose, and when he returned to the ship, it was calm again. He asked me to find her and bring her back to the ship; I did, and the same thing happened, only it was far more intense; you know this; you were there.” Seonghwa explained simply, keeping only to the basic facts. “After she came round again and you got her back to the docks, the water was calm at that point; he knew, and so did I, she is a sea nymph.”
San opened and closed his mouth several times before he could speak, “She can’t be a nymph; she lives on land. But why would we need a sea nymph anyway?” His questions made Seonghwa wince for a fraction of a second, but it was enough for San to understand it wasn’t something he was going to agree with.
“San has a point though; she has always lived on land. A sea nymph would die out of water for that long”. Yunho blinked, looking between Seonghwa and San.
Sylvia let out a harsh laugh, “So you did this to her, so you could use her and then what, throw her away? You can’t see what this one already feels for her?” She gestured towards San, who didn’t refute the accusation.
Seonghwa shook his head “She’s not a full nymph; my guess was half at least. She will not need to be in water full time, just some of it.”
“That doesn’t make any of this less fucked up” Yunho scowled.
San moved faster than any of them expected, shoving Seonghwa hard against the wall, his forearm against his throat. “You and the captain did this to her? Could this kill her? Do you even care if it does?” The rage rolling off of him was undeniable.
“It won’t kill her”, Sylvia answered softly, standing and placing her hand on San’s arm “She will take time getting used to the changes, but she will be fine in the end. Her ancestors all survived long enough for her to be here.”
San backed away from Seonghwa, who, if he wished to, could have had San on the floor within seconds, taking Sylvia’s spot at your side, his fingers combing through your hair tenderly.
“You must care for her now, San; she will need you.” Sylvia smiled sadly before turning to Yunho. “Help me off the ship, boy, and I will give you the rest of the ingredients you need to care for her.” Yunho offered her an arm and led Sylvia from the room, allowing her one last look at your sleeping form.
“Tell me everything, Seonghwa” San started looking at him with sharp eyes that were shadowed by betrayal “If you don’t, I will take her off this ship and never set foot on it again.”
Seonghwa sighed deeply “San, none of us would ever hurt her, Hongjoong…” he dragged his hand down his face as he moved to sit on the stool Yunho had vacated “You heard what Hongjoong said about his youth, about his family. With her help, he can rescue them, and then hopefully we will have a life where we don’t need to be pirates anymore if we don’t want to. Wouldn’t you want that? Settling down somewhere with her, where nothing can hurt her, and you can spend forever by her side?”
San’s jaw tightened, the muscles working beneath his skin as he tried to process Seonghwa’s words. “You’re telling me…” he started, voice unsteady, “that all of this, all the risks, are worth it just for a chance at something that may not even be real? You’re willing to destroy her for… nothing.”
Seonghwa met San’s gaze, his own eyes heavy with regret. “I know what it looks like.” He sighed again, almost pained, knowing that there was nothing that could take the sting of feeling betrayed away in the moment.
San shook his head, frustration evident. “He should have told me. You both should have. What else is being kept from the rest of us?” A soft, restless sound escaped you from the bed, stirring in the sheets as if the conversation pressed against the edge of your dreams.
Seonghwa looked at you and then back at San “Hongjoong had me look into several locations where there were rumours and whispers of ancient magic, little hamlets and towns where crones still had knowledge that has left the new world. This is one of the towns.” His explanation felt weak on his tongue, but Seonghwa still needed to try. “The painting, besides being worth more coin than this ship, was created using some form of old magic. Something no one left understands, but it was claimed it could awaken the blood of Sea Nymphs in those with even the weakest relation to one. She has to be at least half with the way the sea speaks to her.”
San’s brows remain creased; his eyes still dark with anger. “She has no choice now, does she? You have cursed her.
The door to the cabin opened swiftly as Yunho almost tripped over the threshold with Jongho on his heels “I’ve got more than I will hopefully ever need to help her.” The large crate stacked precariously with old books and scrolled parchments he carried prevented him from seeing what was in front of him. Jongho held a large sack over his shoulder, a wooden box which looked like a dowry chest under his other arm and a huge leather bag tied with straps.
“Old Sylvia was much more helpful once she decided that this was unavoidable and that you, San, are going to need her help.” Yunho continued unpacking a couple of the books and leaving them on the small desk. “Read these; it may be another day before she wakes, so you will have time, probably. It explains everything.”
“Where is all the other stuff going?” Jongho asked, still holding everything he carried easily.
“The sack stays here; the boxes to my cabin.” Yunho smiled, letting Jongho lead the way back out of San’s room “Oh, Seonghwa, you may want to get the captain to call a meeting; there is a lot we have to go over.”
Seonghwa managed a faint, understanding smile. “Agreed.” Before leaving San alone with you once more.
As the lantern light flickered, San leaned closer, his voice a low promise meant only for you. “I won’t let them hurt you. I swear it.”
You wake slowly, the world coming into focus in gentle, shifting waves. The air is thick with the scent of salt and something herbal, familiar, soothing. The cabin is dim except for a thin band of light sneaking through the curtains, dust swirling in its path. You blink slowly; your body still feels strange, heavier than it should, but you no longer feel as though you have been underwater.
Safe
Coming home
The voice is once again soft and less insistent than the previous night? You felt a sharp wave of panic. What time was it? You look around the cabin for something to give you a clue to how long you have slept, but you find nothing other than San is slumped on the floor beside the bed, his head pillowed awkwardly on his arm. An old, battered book lies open beside him, its pages curled from use. His breathing is deep and even, and you realize he must have kept watch for hours.
Careful not to disturb him, you reach for the blanket at the foot of his bunk and drape it over his shoulders. But the movement stirs him, and he blinks up at you, confusion softening into relief.
"You're awake," he says, voice thick with sleep and something like hope. He sits up, rubbing his eyes. "How are you feeling?"
You search your body, noticing the absence of pain. "Better. Tired, but… not like before. What happened?"
San glances at the book and then back at you. "Salvia and Yunho took care of you. It was… complicated. Yunho came back with all sorts of things from Sylvia; she thought maybe this would help." He gestures to the old book.
Your eyes widen in shock “Sylvia was here? On this ship? With Hongjoong? Each question tumbles from your tongue without warning.
San swallows audibly “Hongjoong doesn’t know she was here, but yes, she came. I went to find her when Yunho said you weren’t responding to anything he tried.”
You closed your eyes “Is she going to kill me?” you mumbled quietly.
San shook his head, the corners of his mouth falling “No, but she said that we need to look after you now, that things have changed, you are changing.”
You sat mutely for a moment, unsure if you were still dreaming until the voice spoke to you again.
You will be reborn
Reborn of salt and sea
Reborn of sand and swell
The mate will help
The mate is safe
San picked up the book again, to show you, not noticing a slip of torn parchment falling from inside the back cover. "I tried to read about Sea Nymphs, but I’m not sure I understood half of it. Did you know they can breathe underwater? Some say they can talk to the tides."
You manage a shaky smile. "I didn’t, but what is that?” You point at the fallen slip.
San picks it up, scanning it quickly before passing it to you. “It’s from Sylvia.”
You take it from his fingers, not missing the way your skin seemed to hum when it touched his, ‘Possum, I’m sorry that this will be something I should have been with you for, but I can’t. When you read this, I hope you will be able to forgive me for that. Read the books, speak with the boy Yunho and stay safe. The ocean will not lie to you. Men will. Listen to your own heart and the sea will guide you. Love Via’
“Is that one of the books I am meant to read?” Your confusion-laced voice strained.
San shrugs, the hint of a grin on his lips. "Yeah, but this one is mostly legends. Some warnings. Something about transformation being hard, but worth it, if you have people who care for you." He closes the book gently. "I care. We all do."
You reach out, squeezing his hand, the feel of his warm palm calming you in a way you don't understand. "Thank you, San. For looking after me."
He squeezes back, warmth in his gaze. "I promised I’d keep you safe. And now that you’re awake, we have to go meet with Hongjoong. He wants to see all of us."
a/n: Thank you for reading my lovelies your support is my warmth in the coldness xx
Pairing:Mingi x 9th member reader (platonic)
Word Count: 1K
Genre: Angst
Warnings: None
Filming the first music video with the group brings up feelings that you struggle to deal with alone
The blinding lights sting your eyes as the director shouts, “Cut!” for the third time in as many minutes.
Your heartbeat thunders in your chest, so loud you’re sure the crew must hear it over the backing track. Sweat prickles at your hairline from the exertion of the scene, each take of you running across the dystopian set to reach the others looking awkward. You run a trembling hand carefully through your hair, trying to keep your breathing steady. The other members gather near the monitors, laughing, reviewing takes, but you can only hear your own harsh, shallow breaths. Seonghwa tosses you a warm and encouraging smile; Wooyoung flashes a thumbs-up, his toothy grin bright. You nod back, but it's stilted, and the gesture feels brittle like glass about to shatter.
You shouldn’t be here; you are never going to be good enough to be here. That’s the thought that gnaws at you between scenes as each of the other members does their individual shot, the ease of it proving to you that your skills are below the bar. You shouldn’t be here, surrounded by eight professionals, their every movement sharp and polished, their charisma burning through the lens. You’re the outsider, the one who stumbles over choreography, whose body tembles in the group shots, whose hands won’t stop shaking.
The assistant director had asked you to try to act more seductively in your scene with BBT, but you barely knew them, and it came off unnatural. You had been directed to smoulder at the camera, but you felt like you just looked angry. Each cut just made you feel more worthless, more unworthy.
“Take five!” the director calls, and the set dissolves into scattered clusters of chatter. You drift to the edge of the soundstage, sitting on the cold concrete while hugging your knees to your chest, your chest constricting painfully. You close your eyes, but the thoughts won’t stop. You know you are starting to spiral; your breathing is getting shallower, faster, desperate. They’re going to regret choosing you. You’re ruining the shot. You’re slowing everyone down. The fans will see it, too: how you don’t fit, how you’re not enough, how you are ruining the very thing they love.
The scrape of heavy boots on concrete interrupts your inner spiralling, and you look up. Mingi stands over you, hands shoved into his pockets, his hair damp from sweat and falling into his eyes. He doesn’t sit right away, just shuffles awkwardly, toeing the ground with his boot, glancing back at the scattered camera equipment and the other members. Finally, he lowers himself to the floor beside you, his presence huge but gentle.
For a moment, neither of you speaks. You pick at the scuffed floor, trying to swallow the lump in your throat. “You okay?” Mingi asks, his voice lower than usual, almost hesitant as he looks at the clothes rack not far from you both.
You force a smile, but it falters before it reaches your eyes. “Yeah. Just tired, I guess.” The words sound forced, but you both know that they are.
Mingi snorts, not unkindly. “You know, that’s the same thing I used to tell the others. But it’s never just tired, is it?”
You glance at him, surprised by the raw honesty in his voice. He’s staring ahead, jaw clenched, fingers fidgeting with the hem of his sleeve.
“I used to get so scared before filming,” he continues, voice barely above a whisper. “Like… everyone’s watching and waiting for you to mess up. Like you don’t belong. Like you’re going to ruin everything for everyone else. I thought those feelings would go away, but they never really do. You just learn how to carry them.”
You swallow, something dislodging in your chest. “How do you handle it?” you ask, your voice timid and cracking despite yourself. “The fear, the… the not being enough?”
Mingi sighs, a sound heavy with old pain that still lives deep within him. “Sometimes I don’t. Sometimes I just survive it. I get through the day, the shoot, the performance, even if my brain is screaming at me that I’m not enough. And sometimes I talk to the others. Or I just… let myself feel it, even when it hurts.”
He turns to you, eyes warm and searching. “You’re not alone in this. We all have those days. You’re not ruining anything. You’re learning. You’re growing. That’s all any of us can do.” He places one large hand over one of yours, squeezing it gently despite the fact it was trembling.
You blink hard, trying to keep the tears from spilling. The weight in your chest eases, just slightly. It’s not gone, but it feels shared now. Less like a punishment, more like a burden you don’t have to carry alone. Maybe with Mingi you can carry the doubt a little bit more easily.
Mingi nudges your shoulder with his. “You don’t have to be perfect. You just need to be real. That’s what people connect with. That’s what makes you part of Ateez.”
You let out a shaky breath, your hands finally stilling. The lights don’t seem so harsh now, and the set not so overwhelming. The voices of your members, your chosen family, echo nearby, familiar and grounding. San was running from Wooyoung holding what looked like a packet of chips, Yunho was filming some choreography to be released on Tik Tok later. Hongjoong was talking to the director. You realize that none of the look disappointed or burdened by your presence. You’re still scared almost witless. Still unsure of yourself and your ability. But for the first time all day, you believe, just a little, that maybe you do belong here. That maybe, with time, you can learn to carry the weight and still stand tall.
The director calls everyone back to set. Mingi stands and offers you his hand. You take it, and together, you walk back into the light for another group choreography shot.
“You have totally got this”, Mingi whispers lowly as he steps onto his mark.
You nod with resolve, taking a fortifying breath before the director signals for the cameras to get ready for the shot.
a/n: Thank you for reading my lovelies your support, likes, reblogs, comments and endless love give me the will to live in a major way xxx
Hiiii how are you? How do you like the concept photos so far?
Mattie 😘
I'm going to be honest this is the most random set of concept photos and trailers I have ever seen, I have so many questions.
What's up with all the coffee?
How is it that they look even more amazing with each set of photos?
Is the trailer just a set of random moments?
Or... Is it a collection of their fears?
Where can I get a coffee drip from? Do you think Felix would give me his?
Should I stop falling down rabbit holes? Actually yes I really do need to stop doing that.
What do you think about it? I cannot get over how good they all look.
Some tags for my pookies @platypusundercover @blueohs @imnotsupposedtobedoingthis @xx-all-purpose-nerd-xx @angstylittleb1tch @catinabin @matchaafterhours + open tags
summary: in which the guys joke that yunho is a pervert but they have no idea just how right they are
warning: hard dom yunho, bratty sub reader, throat fucking, oral, anal, squirting, cum eating, edging, light double penetration, unprotected sex, creampie
genre: smut
pairing: idol yunho x afab reader
word count: 3.3k
masterlist
═════════ ═════════ ═════════
“I’m not a pervert.”
Lies. Yunho knew it. The guys knew it. It’s why they said it. He wouldn’t have denied it if they weren’t literally filming a variety show. Now all the fans were gonna see it. Make memes about it. Bring it up every chance they could. He sighed and dug through his duffel bag that had his regular clothes in for him to change back into after the filming of the variety show was done. “What….” He pulled out a pair of lace baby blue thongs that definitely weren’t his. Yours. He shoved them in there a couple of weeks ago when the group had to go to Japan that way he had something from you with him.
“See…” a hand snatched the thong from him, dangling them in his face. “pervert.” San was grinning with Jongho laughing beside him. “Give them back!” Yunho snatched at them only for San to move out of the way. “Why are you carrying around thongs for anyways?” San passed them to Jongho when Yunho stood, towering over both of them. Annoyed. And his eye twitching. If only San knew who those thongs belonged to….. “They’re not mine.” Yunho snatched them from Jongho and shoved them back into his bag.
“Oh….” Jongho bumped his shoulder with San. “someone has a girlfriend he hasn’t told us about.” That made San perk up. “Oh! Is that why you’ve been so…. loose lately? You’re getting laid?” Him and Jongho laughed again all in good tease. The two of them and Wooyoung were like three annoying younger brothers sometimes. “It’s none of your buisness.” Yunho picked his bag up and started walking towards the small little change room Mingi disappeared into just a minute ago.
“He’s deflecting. That means we know her.” Jongho grinned as San laughed. The change room door slammed shut behind him and Yunho groaned making Mingi look up at him where he was pulling on his shoes. “Who pissed you off?” That’s the thing with Mingi. He could read Yunho like an open book. Yunho rolled his eyes as he started changing his clothes, letting the ones the stylist put him in drop to the floor. “San and Jongho found a thong in my bag…”
Mingi stares at him and Yunho just stares right back. Then Mingi burst out laughing. “Damn…. Didn’t know you were into that.” Yunho glared at him. “They’re not mine. They’re Y/N’s.” That made Mingi stop laughing for exactly seventeen seconds before he started laughing again. “Oh my god…. You mean… you’re telling me that San found his sister’s thong in your bag and he doesn’t even know it? I told you this was going to blow up in your face!”
“First of all,” Yunho pulled his shirt on. “she’s his step sister. And secondly, she’s a grown woman.” Mingi had tears in his eyes at this point as he stood up. “Doesn’t change the fact if San realizes then you’re a dead man.” And he wasn’t exaggerating either. San was a little overprotective of his sisters. He proved that a couple months ago at his eldest sister’s wedding when he threatened her husband that if he makes her cry he’d make him disappear all while he was doing that, Yunho had you, his younger, beloved, the one he’s most protective over, sister bent over an old table behind his parents house. He’d kept your panties that day too.
It started new years. KQ threw this big party and all the member’s families were invited of course. It didn’t take long after you had gotten there for Yunho to have you riding him in Mingi’s studio on the third floor. It was supposed to of just been that one time. But then it kept happening. Now it’s been six months and you were both taking it steady behind San’s back. “He won’t find out.” Yunho sounded like he was more trying to convince himself than he was Mingi.
Mingi snorted. “You have pictures of her naked on your phone…. all it’s gonna take…”
“He’ll never see them.” Yunho clenched his jaw. Mingi was never of supposed to of seen them either. But then a month ago his best friend grabbed his phone while Yunho was sleeping, looking for some unposted unit comeback photos he knew Yunho had and instead found you. You in nothing but one of Yunho’s shirts pulled up over your exposed ass. You wet right out of the shower. You with Yunho buried inside you. That one had been a video.
So, yeah….. maybe Yunho was a bit of a pervert.
═════════ ═════════ ═════════
The dorm was quiet other than the low hum of the central air as Yunho and Yeosang dragged inside. “I’m getting a shower.” Yunho wasted no time dropping his duffel off in his room and then crossing the hall to the bathroom. The steam from the shower enveloped around him as his muscles relaxed under the heat. That was the only thing that relaxed. His mind? Not so much. All he could think about was you. Your thong in your brother’s hands. San finding out…… he’s seen San pissed only a handful of times through the years. And honestly, Yunho wasn’t so sure it would be the fact he’s seeing you but more so that he was sneaking behind San’s back. And San hated being lied to.
His neck popped as he rolled his shoulders stepping back out the shower. Water clung to him as he grabbed a towel, drying in haste, leaving his hair to just air dry. He had no shame as he stepped out of the bathroom completely naked and walked out towards the kitchen. Yeosang blinked at him from where he sat on the couch. “You’re just…. dangling ….. very largely everywhere.”
Yunho rolled his eyes. This was nothing new and maybe it was one of the reasons why Yeosang also joked he has perverted quirks. It being just the two of them, Yunho was naked often. There was sometimes sweat stains left in his gaming chair from his ass. Yunho opened the fridge and grabbed a beer, the first swig making him close his eyes and let out a sigh. Then his eyes snapped open as the front door opened. The voices of San, Wooyoung and you trailing inside. He tried sprinting back to his room but as soon as he moved, Wooyoung’s ecstatic giggle stopped him in his tracks.
“Ahhh…. Yunho,” San grabbed you and spun you around, still oblivious that you have seen every detail of Yunho. No idea that you’ve had every inch that was on display buried inside you multiple times. “See! You fucking pervert.”
Wooyoung was ogling. “I say let him keep it out.” He grinned at Yunho as he moved to sit beside Yeosang and you shoved away from San. “Will you move? I’ve seen a dick before.” San gaped at you as Wooyoung laughed and Yunho’s ears started turning red. “Well you’re not gonna see that one.” San grabbed the throw pillow Yeosang had in his lap and chunked it at Yunho. “Cover that thing up!”
Yunho clutched the pillow and held it against himself. His dick barely staying hidden behind the small material. He turned around to get to his room and get dressed but your voice stopped him. “Nice ass.” He could practically hear the smirk in your voice. He was sure you were staring at the fading scratches you left there from a few nights ago. You loved his ass. Loved gripping it when he rutted inside you like he was trying to empty his soul out.
“Y/N!”
Yunho could feel the tips of his ears burning as he disappeared into his bedroom. He was gonna make you pay for that. He was already thinking of many scenarios to make you pay that would have San ready to commit murder. The thought alone made Yunho snort as he tossed the throw pillow he was still holding onto his gaming chair. He casted a glance at his reflection in the mirror on his wall. His roots were starting to grow out in the blonde but he was holding out dying it since you loved it too much. He was realizing he was starting to do a lot because you liked something. But you also did a lot because he liked something. And Yunho was starting to think that maybe whatever this was the two of you had wasn’t so casual anymore…. that it wasn’t exactly steady.
“Knock, knock.”
“Jesus!” Yunho jumped, turning around and glaring at you. “What the hell are you doing?” Because he was still naked and San, Wooyoung and Yeosang…..
“Relax.” You waved him off as you walked into his room, shutting the door behind you. “They all went to get food.” You dragged your gaze down his body, eyes lingering on his shoulders, noticing how much broader he’s gotten lately. Then your gaze dropped lower to where his dick hung heavy. “San said he found some girl’s thong in your bag today….” You started moving closer. “I think he’s convinced you’re hiding a girlfriend.”
Girlfriend. That hit hard. Neither of you had put labels on it yet. On what you were. But Yunho certainly wouldn’t deny it if that’s what you wanted. “San’s nosy.” He watched you trace a hand up his abdomen, then back down and his dick twitched a little in anticipation. At just the thought of having you while your brother was out getting food and would be back any moment. It was a rush. And Yunho could be an adrenaline junky.
You dropped to your knees in an almost haste, now barely eye level with his dick and Yunho let you take over for a minute. Just stood there and watched. Stood there and groaned when you gripped him, bringing his hardening dick to your mouth. Stood there and watched as your lips stretched wide around him and he let you take your time to feed his length deeper into your mouth. The tip bumped the back of your throat with every slow thrust, spit dripping down your chin and onto your shirt.
He pulled out just enough to rest the heavy length on your tongue, tapping the wet tip against it a few times before dragging it across your flushed cheek, leaving a shiny trail of spit and precum. He didn’t give you time to catch your breath. Both hands gripped the sides of your head and he shoved himself back in, hips snapping forward until your nose pressed against his pelvis. The sudden force made your eyes water, but your fingers dug into his ass, nails biting deep enough to leave fresh red marks across the skin and Yunho groaned at the sting, loving that slight little tinge of pain as he started fucking your throat with steady strokes that made wet, obscene sounds fill the room.
“Look at you,” he rasped, voice low and rough. “Gagging on my dick like a desperate little slut. Bet you’re dripping just from having your throat used, aren’t you? Gonna come just from me fucking your face?” You moaned around him, the vibration making his hips stutter and he held you there a moment longer, buried to the hilt before pulling out completely letting strings of spit connect your now swollen lips to his glistening dick. “Strip,” he ordered, tracing his thumb on your bottom lip before you stood.
You snatched your shirt off first. The fabric dropping to the floor. Your pants were next. The jeans sticking at your wet thighs from how soaked sucking his dick made you. When you moved to reach to drag your panties off, he stopped you. “Leave those on.” He hauled you up and onto the bed, positioning you on all fours. You expected him to yank the black lace aside and sink into you, but instead he stayed behind you, one hand smoothing over the curve of your ass. “Nice ass?” he repeated, echoing your earlier words with a dark chuckle. “Saying that in front of your brother? Brats like that should be punished.”
Yunho wrapped his fingers around his dick and dragged the tip slowly over the thin black lace covering your pussy, pressing the fabric against your soaked folds. He stroked himself like that for a long second, letting the tip glide back and forth through your wetness, the lace growing darker and stickier with every pass as your hips started to twitch, trying to push back, but he only teased, never sinking inside you. He pulled back long enough to reach over to the bedside table. You heard the soft click of his phone unlocking. The camera light coming on, the lens aimed straight at where his dick was rubbing again at you.
“Please,” you whispered, voice hoarse and growing desperate. “Fuck me…. Yunho… I need it.”
He hummed in amusement. “Oh, I will.” The recording stayed on a few more seconds, capturing every desperate wiggle of your hips before he locked the screen and tossed the phone aside. Then he dragged one finger up through your slick, gathering the mess and grabbing your hair, pulling your head back, bringing it to your lips. “Suck.” You opened obediently, tongue curling around his soaked finger and cleaned it. Yunho’s thoughts drifted for a second….. yeah, San and Jongho might’ve been onto something when they joked he was a pervert.
He let your hair go, pulling his finger back and yanked your hips up. His dick, shiny with your juices, pressed against your entrance and he thrusted into you, bottoming out with a groan as you cried out. He bit his bottom lip as he thrusted slow and deep, coating himself with you before pulling back out. His tip dragged upward, circling your ass, smearing slick over the rim as he gave you one heartbeat to adjust before sinking in, inch by inch, until his hips met your ass and a low groan left him at the tight heat.
He stayed still for a few seconds, knowing the others could walk in any moment but he was starting not care, he wanted to give you time to breathe. To adjust. Until you started pushing back against him, voice shaky but defiant. “I know you can go harder than that.”
“Brat,” he growled, the word vibrating through his chest as his hands clamped on your hips and he started pounding into your ass without another second to breathe, the slap of skin loud and filthy. One hand slid beneath you, two fingers pushing into your dripping pussy while his dick kept driving into your ass, the dual stretch of his fingers fucking you and his dick buried in your ass making your vision blur and for pleasure to coil tight and fast until it snapped. Your scream muffled against the sheets as your whole body shook through the orgasm, squirting on his fingers and his bed sheets.
He didn’t stop though. Yunho just fucked you through it, fingers still working inside you until his rhythm faltered and he buried himself deep, dick pulsing as he filled your ass. He stayed inside you for a minute, breathing hard, before pulling out and letting his cum start to trickle down your ass as he dropped to his knees behind you, tongue dragging over your used hole, licking up the mess he’d left before moving lower to lap at your soaked pussy. The wet sounds of his mouth were almost as obscene as him fucking you had been.
When he finally pulled back, he hooked his fingers into the ruined black lace of your panties and peeled them down your legs. “Mine now,” he said, voice still rough, and tucked the damp fabric into his pocket.
═════════ ═════════ ═════════
Yunho had just finished pulling on his favorite pair of grey sweatpants when he heard the others get back. Yeosang said something about never going anywhere with Woo and San again. Their laughter echoed down the hall and into his bedroom. It had only been about fifteen minutes since Yunho had you a mess on his bed. Now you were in the living room, dress. Missing your panties. And his bed was still a mess.
“Hey….” San peaked into his room to let him know they got pizza and immediately froze. He furrowed his brows, sniffed the air and frowned. “It smells like sex in here.” Yunho blinked at him, clearing his throat and lied straight through his teeth. “I jerked off.”
San had a look of pure disgust as he retreated from his door. “Oh my god, Yunho! While my sister was in the living room? I was right. You are a pervert.”
Yunho didn’t even try to deny it this time.
═════════ ═════════ ═════════
A week later and Yunho was covered in sweat after Ateez set for BST. The London heat almost suffocating. But that heat didn’t compare to you also being there. You had begged San to let you come which he caved instantly. And Yunho was holding on by a thread.
You wore a white tank top that let him see the slightest sweat glistening on your shoulders. The shorts you had on barely covered your ass and he had to stop himself multiple times from just outright staring. And now? Now you were walking towards him, handing him another bottle of water. “You’re like…” you dragged your eyes down him, staring at his arms on display. “sweating everywhere.”
Yunho uncapped the bottle of water you gave him. “Trust me, I know.” He tipped his head back and your gaze lingered at his throat and the way his adams apple bobbed as he drank. “Mhm…” you stepped a little closer. Just enough for only he could hear. “I’m gonna do things to you with my tongue that your good lord never wanted to bear witness.” Yunho choked. Literally. He shouldn’t be shocked. Because he may be a pervert according to the guys. But you were just as much of a freak.
The water sputtered out of Yunho’s mouth as you laughed and patted at his back. The commotion had San’s attention now. He narrowed his eyes at the two of you then he froze. Blue. Lace. Strings peaking out the back of the top of your shorts as you bent over to grab a dry towel to hand to Yunho. No. No. Absolutely not. It clicked fast after that. Blue lace thongs. You for months now wanting to travel with them when you were allowed. Always going with San over to Yeosang and Yunho’s. Always at their dance practices. The lingering looks he’d catch Yunho give you but ignored because he just thought Yunho thought you were hot. A few of the guys did. But the other guys didn’t carry around your thong…..
“YUNHO, YOU ASSHOLE!”
Everyone froze then. Yunho finally stopped coughing. You and him stared at San as Mingi seemed to put two and two together and pulled his phone to record. “Here we go.”
San marched over, still a little breathless from performing. He seemed more shocked than angry. Ok. Maybe he looked a little angry. “You’re fucking my sister.” The accusation landed like a slap and neither you or Yunho denied it as chaos erupted around you.
“What?” Hongjoong looked exasperated.
“That explains a lot.” Seonghwa snorted as he grabbed himself a bottle of water as Wooyoung laughed. Loud. Tears forming in his eyes as a cackle tore from him. Yeosang didn’t look surprised at all. Being Yunho’s roommate, he’s already heard things he wish he hadn’t.
“Wait….” Jongho looked like he won the lottery. “THE THONGS WERE HERS?” He started laughing, pointing at San. “Man…. You picked up your sister’s used underwear! Used by Yunho!” He made the situation so much worse instantly because now San did look mad. Really mad. Disgusted and mad.
“We’re not fucking.” You argued, then slipped your hand into Yunho’s sweaty one. “We’re dating.”
“This is fucking gold.” Mingi was enjoying this way too much.
Yunho gripped your hand back. Clearing his throat and looking down at San. “Sorry…. we didn’t know how to tell you.” He had to play like he wasn’t absolutely losing his mind over you saying that you were dating.
For now, Yunho was just thankful San had no idea what perverted evidence he had with you on his phone.
Pairing: Yeosang x 9th member reader (platonic)
Word Count: 1.1K
Genre: Fluff
Warnings: none
Sometimes decisions about mostly important things need some back up thankfully you have that in spades
The late afternoon sunlight slants through the windows of the practice studio, gilding the polished floor in honeyed gold. You’re in the middle of running through your choreography again: one, two, three, step, spin, each run-through locking the steps into your muscle memory. You’re ready for a drink break when you hear your phone begin to ring from its place beside the sound system.
You answer swiftly when you realise that your manager's name is scrolling across the screen. “Hello, Manager-nim.”
Ah, are you still rehearsing? Could you stop by my office after practice? We need to talk about your microphone for the live shows." He tells you, politely, still not comfortable with you yet, to treat you like the others.
You blink, pausing for almost a beat too long. “Of course.”
For a moment, nerves flutter in your stomach. Did something go wrong? Was there a problem they weren’t expecting? The thought lingers as you towel off and change into a fresh shirt, then head down the hallway toward Hongjoong’s studio.
Yeosang, who is sitting on a bench by the vending machine, catches your anxious expression. “You okay? Did Wooyoung ask to go through your wardrobe again?” he asks, his voice gentle. There’s always a calm steadiness to him that you find reassuring. He also seems to be the one who asks exactly the right thing at the right time to stop you spiralling too far
“Manager wants to talk to me about my microphone,” you say, trying to sound casual, but not really managing to do so. “I think it’s about picking the color for the live shows.”
Yeosang’s lips curl into a comforting smile. “That’s exciting! You get to pick your own color, make a whole statement about yourself.”
You blush. “But I don’t know what to pick. There are so many options. What if I pick something weird?”
He laughs. “Come on, I’ll go with you. Your choice can’t be worse than concrete gray.”
You laugh too, the tension easing. “Deal. Let’s go.”
Together, you head down the hallway, Yeosang’s shoulder brushing yours as you walk. The manager’s door is open like it is waiting for you to step inside.
“Ah, there you are. Good, Yeosang too. I wanted you to pick out the color and finish for your performance microphone. It’s a small thing, but it matters for your stage presence.” Your manager hands you a catalog, pages glossy with photos of microphones in every color and finish imaginable: matte black, metallic blue, pearly white, even a shimmering rose gold.
You glance at Yeosang, who leans over the catalog thoughtfully. “What do you think fits you best?” he asks, tilting the page so you can see better.
You hesitate, scanning the choices. “I want something unique, but… not too flashy. Maybe something that stands out but doesn’t steal the show.”
“San just picked his favorite color and went from there if that helps you choose.” Your manager explains, attempting to make it easier for you.
You think for a moment, “my favorite color is green. So maybe green then?” Flicking the pages towards the green selections page.
Yeosang nods, scanning the glossy pages, before he points to a deep, iridescent emerald. “This one’s cool. It’s got a subtle shine under the lights, but it’s not too loud. Plus, it’s kind of mysterious, like you.
You laugh, feeling your cheeks warm. “Mysterious, huh? I like that.”
Your manager smiles, jotting down your choice. “Midnight Emerald with a satin finish, then. Good pick. I’ll put in the order.”
As you leave the office, relief floods through you. “Thanks for coming with me,” you tell Yeosang, bumping his shoulder lightly. “I’d probably still be in there debating between pink and orange if you hadn’t helped.”
He grins. “Happy to help. Want to grab coffee to celebrate your new mic? Or to celebrate not making an awful choice?”
You nod, smiling widely, and the two of you wander out of the building into the street, the air crisp with the promise of evening. It is still early, so thankfully, the corner café is not overly busy. Yeosang orders an iced Americano, and you pick your favorite honey latte, settling at a window seat that catches the last rays of sunlight.
Yeosang takes a sip of his drink, watching you continue to relax. “Was there ever a different idea for what you wanted for your future?”
You take a deep breath, unsure of how to explain, “I wanted to be a police officer when I was little, then I saw a music show, the performances looked so fun and bright. I just knew that was what I wanted to do.” You start carefully. Yeosang nods in understanding. “My mother hated the idea, though; she didn’t speak to me for a week after I signed up as a trainee.”
Yeosang frowns for a moment. “I understand. I left home for a few days to prove I was serious about my dream. My parents wanted me to be a lawyer.” He smiles serenely as he takes another sip of his coffee. “Is she happier with your decision now?”
“Oh yeah, now she tells people I’m going to be famous and that her daughter is super talented.” You laugh softly, a grin forming on your face.
Yeosang grins in return. “ Did I tell you about the time I almost tripped over a cable during rehearsal, nearly taking out all eight of us like dominos?”
“NO!” You gasp before you both burst into laughter, drawing a few curious looks from the other patrons.
After you both catch your breath again from laughing, the conversation drifts back to the microphone. “I think midnight emerald fits you,” Yeosang admits as he finishes his last mouthful of coffee. “It’s understated but special.”
You smile, feeling a quiet confidence settle inside you. Maybe it’s the coffee, or maybe it’s Yeosang’s easy presence, but suddenly the upcoming live shows don’t seem quite so daunting.
“Thanks,” you say, raising your cup in a toast. “To new microphones, and to new friends who know you better than you know yourself.”
Yeosang clinks his empty cup against yours, eyes shining. “To new beginnings and pretty colors.”
As the sun sets and the city lights blink on, you look out at the people now filling the street. “Have you finished for the day?”
“Yeah, I was finished when you found me by the vending machine.” Yeosang confesses, “Should we head back to the dorm? We can order in food.”
“That’s a genius idea.” You agree. When you step out into the cooling air with Yeosang at your side, you realize you’ve made the right choice not just in microphone colors.
a/n: Thank you for reading my lovelies your support, likes, reblogs, comments and endless love give me the will to live in a major way xxx
