Discover Top Posts Tagged with #yongility

NEO TV # i like me better when i'm with you ꗃ╭╯ jung jaehyun.

──────── chapter ⵌ 6 : the chains you can't see.

𒄬 genre: slowburn / angst / suggestive / gang au / rich kid au / e2l

𒄬 warnings: drug use mention / gang activity / fights / use of weapons / adult language / nsfw scenes / illegal activities / mentions of cheating / toxic family enviroment / addictions / manipulation / insecurities / illegal street racing / death mentions / jeno is jaehyun's brother / lots of angst.

𒄬word count: 10k.

if you want to be in the taglist, just lemme know;) enjoy!

ATZ TV # the bloom beneath the frost ꗃ╭╯ park seonghwa. ──────── ⵌ TEASER. posted: 04/23. read here.

𒄬 genre: slowburn / angst / suggestive / detective!seonghwa / figure skating au / f!reader insert. 𒄬 prologue:

It began almost a year ago, with a bouquet of peonies—delicate, pale, left at your dressing room. No card. No name. Just a whisper in the form of petals, soft and subtle. At first, it felt harmless. Another admirer. Another fleeting gesture in a life lived under the cold glow of spotlights and sharpened blades. You had grown used to being adored from a distance. But this? This was different. The gifts kept coming. So did the notes—first sweet, then strange. Then personal. Then frightening. Details you never shared with anyone. Things only someone who was watching would know. The feeling grew—like someone was always just out of sight, just beyond your reach. Watching. Following. Waiting. You told yourself it was nothing. That you were imagining it. That the pressure of competition, the isolation, and the weight of fame were playing tricks on your mind. But the line between admiration and obsession thinned quickly. Now, nearly a year later, the rink no longer feels like a sanctuary. The applause that once warmed you now sounds hollow. Even the ice—your safest place—feels thinner with every step you take. Your performances are flawless, but your nights are restless. The shadow that lingers has a name—though you don’t know it yet. Someone else is watching now. And you’re not alone in the dark anymore. Detective Park Seonghwa is assigned to protect you, quiet, calm, always watching from any signs of danger. Bound by duty, but haunted by eyes he hasn’t seen. You stopped trusting easily. Seonghwa doesn’t like to get close. But some cases aren’t solved with distance. And some stories—like yours—don’t begin with love. They begin with obsession.

𒄬 warnings:

stalking and obssesive behavior / invasion of privacy / psychological manipulation / anxiety / implied violence / emotional distress. more tba. minors dni, if you don't feel comfortable reading any of the trigger warnings stated, please don't read. seonghwa isn't the stalker.

TAGLIST IT'S OPEN. MIGHT RELEASE VERY SOON. PLEASE COMMENT IF YOU WANT TO BE TAGGED. ASK ARE OPEN HERE.

ateez section it's open now, more atz stories coming soon.

NEO TV # i like me better when i'm with you ꗃ╭╯ jung jaehyun.

──────── epilogue: in another life—and this one too.

𒄬 genre: slowburn / angst / suggestive / gang au / rich kid au / e2l

𒄬 warnings none. this is the peace all of you were waiting for. this is pure fluff, no more angst. read chapter 10 before this. 𒄬 word count: 2.8k

Calgary, Canada.

Life was nothing more than the sum of the choices you made.

And while Jaehyun regretted most of the choices that had led him down the darkest paths, he was grateful for the one he had made three years ago.

Sooman was dead.

The night of the exchange had turned into a battlefield—gang members against police, bullets flying, screams tearing through the air, desperate prayers lost in the chaos.

And in the end, it had taken only one bullet to Sooman’s chest to bring his empire crumbling down.

Neo Zone had fallen with him.

Even though the streets were still dangerous, crime had dropped significantly. Without Sooman pulling the strings, and with most of Neo Zone’s key players locked away, the shadows that once ruled the city had started to fade.

And Jaehyun?

Jaehyun had died that night too.

At least, that’s what the world believed.

By the time the dust settled, when the bodies were being identified and the surviving criminals were being processed into the prison system—Jaehyun was nowhere to be found.

Rumors spread like wildfire.

Jung Jaehyun was dead.

And in many ways, that was the truth.

The night of the exchange had been both an ending and a beginning.

Starting over was harder than he ever imagined. A new city, new faces, a new life. Everything that had once defined him was gone, and for a long time, he wasn’t sure if he was meant to exist without it.

The first year was brutal.

Especially the first few months.

Jeno was a mess. He refused to speak to Jaehyun, refused to leave the house they had been placed in. He was drowning in grief and anger, haunted by the past he never had a choice in.

It wasn’t until Baekhyun intervened that things changed.

Under witness protection, the Jung family was not allowed to have any contact with their old life. But Baekhyun—who had held Jaehyun in his arms when he was seconds away from death—knew he couldn’t just leave them alone. He pulled whatever strings he could, bending rules that were never meant to be bent, just to be the one person who could keep that connection alive.

And so, Baekhyun told them the truth.

About Sooman. About Jaehyun’s father. About the accident that ruined Winwin’s life.

The truth shattered Jeno.

But it also set him free.

It took time—months of silent dinners, tense conversations, and Jaehyun carrying the weight of Jeno’s resentment without complaint—but eventually, Jeno accepted it. And on a quiet night, after far too many nights of pretending he didn’t care, Jeno broke down, sobbing as he apologized.

And just like that, their bond, fractured and fragile, began to heal.

The second year was different.

They were no longer just trying to survive. They were learning to live.

Their new home no longer felt like a prison. The stares of strangers no longer felt like judgment. The ghosts that once clung to them were beginning to fade.

They were free.

And then, there was Winwin.

Jaehyun had spent years carrying the guilt of what had happened to him. The accident. The coma. The stolen future.

But in their second year, something changed. Winwin made progress.

With the help of new doctors and a rehabilitation center, he spoke for the first time in years.

By the third month of that year, his voice, once lost, returned.

By the fifth month, he took his first steps since the accident.

And by the time the second year ended, Winwin wasn’t just recovering—he was laughing again.

And the best part?

Jaehyun was there for all of it.

The third year brought peace.

The kind of peace Jaehyun never thought he would find.

For the first time, he wasn’t drowning in his past. He wasn’t trapped in the cycle of guilt and regret that had consumed him for so long.

He was healing.

He had learned that the past wasn’t something he could erase. It was something he had to carry. But that weight didn’t have to define him.

Even his tattoos—the ink that once felt like a death sentence—became something else.

In the beginning, he hated them.

The first year, he wanted them gone. He wanted to rip them off his skin, to burn away the reminders of everything he had done, everything he had been.

But by the third year, he saw them differently.

They weren’t chains anymore.

They were proof that he had survived.

Once, they had meant there was no way out.

Now, they were a reminder that there always was—as long as you chose the right path when the moment came.

There were things in life you could walk away from.

People spent their whole lives running—escaping from their past, their mistakes, the ghosts that clung to their shadows. Jaehyun had spent years believing he could outrun his own, that time and distance would eventually blur the edges of everything he had lost.

But there were some things that never faded.

Some things that time refused to erase.

And three years later, he realized that no matter how far he had come, no matter how much he had rebuilt—one thought remained constant.

(Y/N).

Jaehyun had sworn he wouldn’t look back. That night at the warehouse had been the end of one life and the beginning of another. He had fought for this, for a clean slate, for the chance to breathe without the weight of Neo Zone pressing on his chest.

But even after all this time, there were moments—quiet, unsuspecting moments—where she would slip through the cracks of his mind. He could go days, weeks, even months convincing himself he had let go.

And then a song would play. A familiar scent would drift through the air. The city lights would flicker just right.

And suddenly, he was back there again.

Three years ago, Baekhyun had told him what happened to her.

The night of the exchange, the night he had nearly died, she had disappeared too. Gone from SM City.

And for a long time, that was enough to keep him frozen.

If she was building a new life, if she was trying to move on—he had no right to pull her back into a past she had barely escaped from.

So he let her go.

But not a single day in those three years had passed without thinking of her.

The scent of warm spices filled the house, the faint aroma of cinnamon and cardamom lingering in the air. It was late afternoon, and the sky outside was beginning to darken, the golden light of the setting sun spilling through the windows, casting soft shadows against the wooden floors.

Jaehyun sighed as he stepped inside, rolling his shoulders to shake off the cold.

“I’m home,” he called out, voice low but steady, the familiar weight of exhaustion settling over him.

From the hallway, a figure appeared, leaning slightly on a cane.

Winwin.

Jaehyun smiled despite himself. His friend was moving better these days—his steps steadier, his balance stronger.

“Your mom and Jeno went to the market to get stuff for dinner,” Winwin said, his tone easy, familiar. He made his way closer, pulling Jaehyun into a brief but firm hug, the kind that spoke of quiet resilience, of the battles they had fought and survived.

Jaehyun clapped him on the shoulder before moving toward the couch. They both sank into it with matching sighs, the air between them comfortable in a way it hadn’t been in years.

“How was therapy today?” Jaehyun asked, glancing at Winwin’s cane.

Winwin exhaled, rolling his neck slightly. “Better. I’m still stuck with this thing for a while longer, but it’s better than not being able to walk at all.” He chuckled, a quiet, genuine sound.

Jaehyun smirked, nodding. “Definitely better.”

Winwin tilted his head. “What about you? How was work?”

Jaehyun leaned back against the cushions, rubbing a hand over his face. “Couple of jobs. Nothing crazy. Though I had this one car come in today that I have no idea how it’s still running. It’s a damn wreck.”

Winwin grinned. “That’s good though, right? Means more work for you.”

Jaehyun huffed a quiet laugh. “Yeah, I guess.”

A real job. A legitimate one.

It still felt strange sometimes.

For years, Jaehyun had lived in a world where the only way to survive was to take, to fight, to bleed. But here, in this quiet city, he had found something different.

Working at the mechanic shop wasn’t glamorous, but it was honest. And after everything, that was enough.

He had spent too many years with oil and grease on his hands for all the wrong reasons— street illegal racing. Now, he had earned the right to build something with them.

“You’ve got time off coming up soon, don’t you?” Winwin asked, watching him carefully.

Jaehyun nodded, stretching his arms over the back of the couch. “Yeah, in a month or so. My boss says work should slow down a bit, so I can take a break.”

Silence settled between them, the sound of the television humming in the background, filling the space between words left unsaid.

And then—

“I think it’s time you look for her.”

The words were soft, barely above a whisper, but they hit Jaehyun like a freight train.

His breath hitched. His chest tightened.

Winwin wasn’t looking at him, his gaze fixed on the television screen, but Jaehyun could see the weight behind his words, the careful way he had chosen them.

Jaehyun swallowed, forcing his voice to stay even. “Win, don’t—”

“You never stopped thinking about her,” Winwin cut in, his tone gentle but firm. “Not once.”

Jaehyun clenched his jaw, fingers curling into his palms.

Because it was true.

There were things from the past you could bury.

Mistakes. Memories. Regrets.

But love was never one of them.

Three Years Later Connecticut, USA

Jaehyun never thought he’d say that a cop had become one of his closest friends.

But somewhere between saving his life, dragging him out of the hell he was drowning in, and checking in on him like an older brother who refused to leave him alone—Baekhyun had managed to become exactly that.

So when Jaehyun asked him for a favor, something that was technically out of his jurisdiction, he had expected resistance. Expected a lecture, maybe even a flat-out no.

What he hadn’t expected was Baekhyun sighing, rubbing the bridge of his nose like Jaehyun had just asked him to commit a felony, and muttering, “You better not make me regret this.”

It took a few weeks—just enough time for Jaehyun’s vacation to start—but Baekhyun had done it. Had put everything in place, made the necessary calls, pulled whatever strings he could.

And now, standing in the middle of a quiet street in Connecticut, Jaehyun felt like he couldn’t breathe.

He had spent three years convincing himself he had lost her. Three years trying to live with the ghost of her touch, her voice, her love.

And now, he was here.

Here to see if the universe was willing to give him one last chance.

Jaehyun had imagined this moment a thousand times.

And in every version, he was prepared for it.

He had prepared himself for her indifference. He had prepared himself for her anger. He had prepared himself for the possibility that she had moved on.

But nothing—not the endless nights spent yearning for her, not the weight of three years apart, not even the prayers whispered into the dark when he swore he didn’t believe in miracles anymore—could have prepared him for this.

For her.

The campus was lively despite the early evening air settling over the city. Students strolled past, their conversations blending into the background hum of normalcy, of a life Jaehyun had never been part of.

But his world was silent.

Because at the end of the path, standing on the steps of a grand old university building, was her.

(Y/N).

He could barely recognize her.

Not because she looked different—no, she was still the same girl who had haunted his dreams, the same girl who had made him feel something even before he realized he was capable of it.

But because she was free.

She wasn’t the girl trapped in SM City, suffocating under the weight of expectations she never asked for. She wasn’t the girl desperately trying to hold together a life that was unraveling at the seams.

She was radiant— and so heartbreakingly beautiful that it made his chest ache

The evening sun cast a golden glow on her skin, her hair catching the light just right. She was speaking to someone, her laughter drifting through the air like music. And for a moment, Jaehyun couldn’t move.

Because how the hell was he supposed to walk up to her when she had done exactly what he always wanted for her?

She had moved on.

Jaehyun swallowed, his fingers curling into fists at his sides. He had played out this moment in his head a thousand times. Had rehearsed what he would say, how he would explain, how he would tell her that not a single day had passed without her name pressed against his ribs like a prayer.

But now that she was standing in front of him, just a few feet away, all he could do was stand there, frozen in the agony of uncertainty.

What if she didn’t want to see him?

What if she had forgotten him?

What if she had healed, and he was nothing more than an old wound she didn’t want to reopen?

But then—

She turned.

And her eyes met his.

For a second, nothing happened.

The world stood still.

Jaehyun wasn’t sure if he was still breathing.

But then her lips parted, and he saw her eyes—those same eyes he had dreamt about for three years, the eyes that had once held every secret part of him— widened. The way her entire body reacted to the sight of him. The way her fingers trembled, the way her chest rose and fell a little too quickly.

And for one agonizing second, neither of them moved.

The world stretched impossibly wide between them.

And then, without warning—

She ran.

Straight toward him.

Jaehyun barely had time to react, breath knocked from his lungs as her arms wrapped around him, her body colliding against his with a force that felt like a lifetime of longing compressed into a single second.

And suddenly, he was eighteen again.

Holding her like she was the only thing keeping him tethered to the world.

(Y/N) was crying—sobbing against his shoulder, her fingers gripping the back of his shirt like she was afraid he would disappear if she let go. And Jaehyun—Jaehyun was shaking.

Because after all these years, after all the distance, after all the pain—he had found his way back to her.

His arms tightened around her, his fingers tangling in her hair as he pressed his face into her shoulder, breathing her in, grounding himself in the reality that this was real.

She was real.

She was here.

“I—” Her voice broke as she pulled back just enough to look at him, her eyes searching his like she was trying to understand if he was truly standing in front of her. “I thought— I thought you—”

Jaehyun exhaled shakily, brushing his fingers against her cheek, his heart breaking at the way she leaned into his touch like she had been starving for it.

“I know,” he whispered. “I know.”

(Y/N) sucked in a breath, her hands moving to cup his face, her thumbs tracing over his jaw like she couldn’t believe he was real.

“I tried to call you,” she choked out. “That night. When I found out I was leaving. I tried, but you never—”

Jaehyun’s heart clenched. “I never got them.”

Her lips quivered.

“Jaehyun…”

A pause. A second of hesitation, of uncertainty.

Then, Jaehyun let out a soft breath, his fingers brushing through her hair, tucking a strand behind her ear with the gentlest touch.

“It’s Yoonoh now,” he murmured.

Her breath hitched.

(Y/N) hadn’t heard that name in years. And the last time she had, he had begged her not to call him that—had told her that Jaehyun was all he had left.

But now… now he was choosing it.

Choosing to be himself again. Choosing her.

Tears welled in her eyes, overflowing before she could stop them. Her lips trembled, a choked laugh escaping her as she buried her face in his chest, gripping onto him as if the weight of his words had made her legs give out.

Jaehyun—Yoonoh—smiled, pressing a soft kiss to the crown of her head, his arms pulling her impossibly closer.

“Angel,” he whispered.

A sob broke from her throat.

He had never stopped calling her that.

Even now, after all this time, after everything, she was still his Angel.

She pulled back slightly, just enough to look at him, her hands still cradling his face.

“You came back.”

Jaehyun swallowed, his voice raw. “I never stopped looking for you.” His lips found the top of her head, pressing a lingering, shaky kiss into her hair, his fingers trailing up and down her back. "I left. Sooman it's down. I'm not part of Neo Zone anymore. I have a new life— there's nothing helding me down anymore."

Her lips trembled. “And now?”

His thumb brushed away a tear that rolled down her cheek.

“Now?” He let out a shaky breath, pressing his forehead against hers, his eyes never leaving hers.

“Now I’m here to say that I love you. That I have always love you..”

And when their lips met, it wasn’t just a kiss.

It was a homecoming. It was every unsaid word, every missed moment, every aching, desperate wish they had ever whispered into the dark, answered in a single breath.

It was the universe setting itself right.

It was the answer to every prayer they had ever whispered in the silence.

They had spent years running.

But in the end, they had always been meant to find their way back.

And this time, Yoonoh wasn’t going to let go.

a/n: NOT PROOFEAD! Yes! I finally give you fluff. And you know what? They both healed. So that's all that matters. So yeah, this is the end of I like me better when i'm with you. I'm thinking about add bonus scenes like time-stamps or headcanons, but i'm not sure... but for now that's the end. I'd love to know what you think about the whole series so far. Thank you for giving this story a chance. I'm sorry about the slow-burn and the push-pull and push dynamics but i really love drama. I'm so grateful to get to this point.

taglist: @peachfulnight @gojoscumslut @bluedbliss @dear-97 @girlwholovespreppyattire @hana-off-icial @cigarettesafterjae @bts-iris @dojaejung @methneo @kriizztin @mrsuhnshine @pieddpiperr @completelyjae @kanekisheart @daegalismybiasinnct @spicyryujin@dear-97

idk why some of the tags just don’t work out!but we still gonna see each other later or tomorrow for the epilogue!

Feel free to send any asks here if you want!

NEO TV # rockabye ꗃ╭╯lee taeyong. ──────── ⵌ MASTERLIST.

𒄬 genre: single dad au / ceo au / fluff / slighty angst.

𒄬 prologue:

Taeyong had lived his life according to a script. A legacy passed down to him, a role he was expected to fill. CEO. Leader. Son of the great Lee family. Now, fate was rewriting his story. A phone call. A name he barely remembered. A child—helpless, waiting, unknown. His entire world had been built on certainty, on carefully planned moves. But no amount of preparation could have led him to this moment, standing on the precipice of a future that wasn’t his to control. All his life, he had been told who he was meant to be. Now, as his daughter wrapped his finger into her little hand— he knew his life won't be the same... and maybe those changes were meant to bring beautiful things into his life.

𓍢 ⌗ chapter #1: 𓈒 𓆇 ━━ the call that changed everything. 𓍢 ⌗ chapter #2: 𓈒 𓆇 ━━ a father's first steps. 𓍢 ⌗ chapter #3: 𓈒 𓆇 ━━ the weight of parenthood. 𓍢 ⌗ chapter #4: 𓈒 𓆇 ━━ drifting closer, drifting apart. 𓍢 ⌗ chapter #5: 𓈒 𓆇 ━━ where the heart belongs.

☆ more..!

𒄬 warnings: adult language / death mention / parenthood struggles / taeyong's mom is mean.

NEO TV # i like me better when i'm with you ꗃ╭╯ jung jaehyun.

──────── chapter ⵌ10 (the final) : a prayer for the damned.

𒄬 genre: slowburn / angst / suggestive / gang au / rich kid au / e2l

𒄬 warnings for this chapter: it's the end / fights / mental manipulation / use of weapons aka knifes and guns / gunshots / mention of blood and bleeding / this whole ahh chapter it's angst, angst and more angst (you might hate me but i promise i'll make it better)— wait for the epilogue please. 𒄬 word count: 6k

The night before— of the exchange. it all comes down to this moment.

The warehouse felt like the closest thing to hell.

It felt like an extension of his soul— an abyss, suffocating, suffused with the smell of rust and decay, mirroring everything Jaehyun had become. Everything he had done. Every bad decision he had ever made. It was as though the very walls of this place absorbed the sins he carried, mocking him, daring him to escape them.

The car was a furnace, stifling. The air around him was thick— saturated with something he couldn't name, but which weighed on him, sinking into the marrow of his bones, making it harder to breathe, harder to think. He gripped the wheel with a force that made his fingers ache, the knuckles turning an agonizing white, his palms slick with sweat. As though holding on this tightly could stop everything from unraveling. As though gripping so hard could stop the inevitable. But it was too late. He knew that. He could feel it.

He dragged in a breath, slow and controlled, as though his lungs had forgotten how to fill themselves. But even as the air slid into him, it didn't help. It couldn't help. He couldn't shake the tremor in his chest, the suffocating weight pressing down on him. The silence outside wasn't the comforting kind. It wasn't the kind that wrapped you in peace. No, this was the kind of silence that felt like a warning— like the pause before everything you had ever known was torn apart.

His heart thudded erratically against his ribs, beating too fast, too hard— each pulse a hammering reminder of the time ticking away. He could feel his own blood rushing in his veins, rushing to his head, flooding him with a heat that made his whole body tremble.

He moved his fingers, almost in a daze, brushing the GPS device hidden beneath his clothes. It was there. It was still working. The small device pressed against his skin like a tiny time bomb, reminding him of the lies he was about to live, the truth he was about to bury.

The microphone under his shirt was on, waiting. Listening. Baekhyun would hear every breath, every word, every sound. The team of agents would be in place— waiting for him to lead them into the lion's den.

His family should be safe. That was the plan. It was supposed to be foolproof.

So why did everything feel like a death sentence?

His instincts had always been sharp. They had always been his guide. But right now, every instinct in him was screaming. Screaming for him to run, to turn around, to stop the madness. But it was too late.

Jaehyun squeezed his eyes shut, trying to fight off the ache in his head, the pain in his chest. He could feel it intensifying— the pressure, the weight of everything he was carrying, the crushing realization that this was it. The end. This had never been a choice. It had never been an escape. This was just a countdown to his own grave. And deep down, he knew, with chilling certainty, that when they buried him tonight, there wouldn't be enough left to mourn.

He hadn't been afraid of dying. Not really. Not after everything he had been through. Not after losing his father, after losing Winwin, after losing everything that had once made him feel human. Death didn't scare him anymore. What scared him was knowing that his family would be left with nothing but the ashes of a man who had failed them. The ghosts that would follow them— ghosts that he would never be able to protect them from.

He wasn't a religious man. He hadn't been for a long time.

Maybe he had been, once— back when he still believed in salvation. Back when he thought there was a way out. Back when he thought prayers meant something. But that was before he learned the truth about this world. Before he understood that hope and faith wouldn't stop a bullet, that love couldn't save you from the mess you created.

But tonight... tonight was different.

For the first time in years, Jaehyun found himself praying. But it wasn't for him. It wasn't for the hollow shell of a man he had become.

He prayed for them. For his family. For the ones he still loved, even though he knew it was too late to fix anything. For the people who would suffer for his failures.

He prayed for every part of him that had already died. For the pieces of him that were buried under years of violence, betrayal, and regret.

And he prayed for her.

(Y/N).

If the Universe had been cruel enough to make him love her, then he only asked one thing: let her forgive him. Let her heal from the damage he had done. Because if she couldn't be his in this life, if the weight of the past and the ghosts that haunted him were too much to let him be the man she deserved, then maybe, just maybe, the Universe would let them be together in the next life.

His chest tightened. The thought of her— her face, her laugh, her warmth— it burned him more than he could handle. He had never been this honest with himself. He had spent so long building walls, keeping everyone at arm's length, but she— she had seen through them. She had seen him, not as Jaehyun, the monster, the failure everyone else saw in him— but as Jung Yoonoh, the person he had buried deep inside. She loved him for who he was. And it had broken him in the most painful way.

But now— now he had to let her go. For her sake. For the sake of the life she deserved. He couldn't drag her any deeper into his hell.

With a shuddering breath, he forced his gaze up, staring at the ceiling of the car, as if somehow it could offer him a sliver of comfort. He murmured something under his breath, something so quiet it was barely a whisper. A prayer. A plea. But it wasn't for him. It wasn't for his redemption.

He asked for it to let him end this hell once and for all.

Jaehyun didn't need to be a genius to know it. Even before he stepped foot inside the warehouse, he knew. Because the air felt wrong, thick, unnervingly still.

The lights above him flickered faintly, casting shadows that stretched like crooked fingers across the walls. It was dark, as if the place were holding its breath.

His jaw tightened. His stomach twisted— and when he tilted his head toward the door, lit only by the sliver of moonlight that spilled through the window, his body stiffened, muscles locking into place as a cold, slow terror crawled up his spine.

Because there he was.

Sooman.

Waiting.

Standing by a pile of crates with his hands in his pockets, his pristine suit untouched by the grime of this place— as if he hadn't already decided how tonight would end.

Their eyes locked. A silent battle, one that didn't need explanation— thoughts, memories, emotions buried deep within those two sets of eyes, speaking to each other without words.

When Jaehyun dared to look away and acknowledge the silhouettes lurking in the shadows, he knew. The men surrounding the warehouse weren't just guards.

They weren't looking at him. They were waiting. For a signal. For a shot. For an end.

Jaehyun knew a trap when he saw one. And this place? This was nothing but one— a damn trap.

"You're late," Sooman's voice sliced through the silence like a blade, drawing Jaehyun's gaze back to him. He fought to hold his stare, forcing himself not to break.

No emotion. No shout.

Sooman shoved his hands deeper into his pockets, feigning casual control.

Baekhyun should be listening.

"I didn't think we were in a rush," Jaehyun replied, his voice calm despite the storm brewing inside.

Sooman chuckled, shaking his head.

"Always so quick with that mouth of yours." His smile twisted. "It's a real shame."

Jaehyun gave nothing. No reaction. Sooman hummed, taking a step forward, the click of his polished shoes echoing on the floor like a countdown.

"You know what this is, don't you?"

Jaehyun stood still. "Clearly, it's not the exchange."

And the only answer he received was a smile.

"You've always known how to read the room, Jaehyun." Another smile, another step forward. His legs shook. "I'll admit—" Sooman exhaled, sounding almost disappointed. "—I never thought it would end like this."

"End like what?" Jaehyun asked, his chest tight.

Sooman tilted his head, his grin stretching impossibly wider.

And then he laughed.

"Like your father."

Jaehyun's blood turned to ice. "You think I don't see it?" Sooman's voice was light, but each word cut deep, sharp as a blade. "The way you look at me now? The way you pull away?" Jaehyun stopped breathing. "It's the same way he did."

Jaehyun's fists clenched, his nails digging into his palms until his skin screamed.

"You had a great future with the gang, Jaehyun. You really did. I gave you everything. Trust, advice, a place in the family." Sooman's smile faded, his eyes darkening. "But words spread fast, and secrets don't stay buried forever."

"Let's not talk about trust," Jaehyun shot back, his voice bitter, but he was cut off.

"Your father thought he could be better than me. That he could improve the path of Neo Zone— that he could betray me and live to tell the tale." Jaehyun could swear his hands were bleeding from how hard he was clenching them.

"And you?" Sooman laughed. "You're just like him." Jaehyun's vision blurred. "But that's something you already know, right?"

Silence.

And then, with the weight of everything crashing down on him, Jaehyun exhaled. Slow. Controlled.

"My father was better than you."

Sooman's eyes darkened, and Jaehyun took a slow step forward, challenging.

"You want to talk about betrayal?" His voice was cold. Unforgiving. "You're the traitor. Killing your men. Using them. Making them think they owe you their lives—"

Sooman's jaw tightened.

"But the second they're no use to you. The second we're no use to you. You put a bullet in our heads."

A slow, cold chuckle.

And then— a gun.

The click of the safety felt like a death sentence— Jaehyun's breath stilled. Sooman raised the gun, aiming it at his chest.

"Look me in the face, Jaehyun."

He did. Cold, dark eyes staring back, his smile breaking through the silence.

"You know, when I killed your father, you cried in my arms." The lump in Jaehyun's throat grew painfully thick. "— like a baby. You cried in the arms of the man who put a bullet in your father's head."

And the world exploded.

Something inside Jaehyun snapped— it wasn't just anger. It was a deep, crushing, and consuming fury. And Sooman knew it. He could see it in Jaehyun's eyes.

And that only pleased him more.

"Ah, there it is." Sooman teased, his hand moving the gun slightly. "That look. The same look your father had before I finished him off." Jaehyun's breath quickened, the barrel of the gun now almost pressing into his jacket.

But Sooman wasn't done yet.

"Tell me, Jaehyun," he stepped closer, his voice a low whisper. "Did you really think you could get out of this? That I wouldn't know?"

Jaehyun didn't move— because he couldn't.

"Did you really think I wouldn't find out you were working with the police? You've always been so predictable— always pretending you're smart, but in the end? You're just another dog thinking it can bite the hand that feeds it."

One more word, and Jaehyun's hand would break from how tightly he was holding his fists.

"And Jeno?" Jaehyun's body stiffened, his eyes flashing with a flicker of fear. Sooman had him.

"You really think you could protect him?" A slow shake of his head. "Jaehyun, Jaehyun, Jaehyun... you don't get it, do you? Jeno is already one of us."

"Shut up."

The words hurt more than the bullet that was waiting to hit him.

Where the hell was Baekhyun?

"Maybe he hates you, but at least he knows his place— unlike you. Do you think he will cry your death? Just like you cried your father's?"

"You're a—"

"And Sicheng? Ha, you failed him too. Your best friend's rotting in a hospital bed for months, all because of what? Your stupid sense of loyalty?"

Stop. Stop. Stop.

What he hated most was how nothing seemed to leave his mouth.

And then came the final blow.

"She's been snooping too much, don't you think?" Sooman sighed, his tone dripping with mock disappointment. "People are starting to talk." Jaehyun's ears began to ring. "Maybe it's time to deal with her too."

And something inside Jaehyun shattered.

He lunged at Sooman before he could even think.

A blurry movement.

A flash of lead.

A click—

And then— a shot.

Pain seared through his ribs. The force pushed him back, his body stumbling as a burning sensation tore through his side.

His jacket was damp. Warm— and the blood...

"That was a warning." Sooman lowered the gun a little. "Now— let's try this again."

Jaehyun saw red.

"You're a bastard."

He didn't think. He didn't hesitate. He didn't care about the gun. The pain. The plan.

He wasn't going to be the only one to fall tonight.

He launched himself, and chaos erupted. Like a war that had been waiting to explode, one that could never be stopped. Jaehyun collided with Sooman, scrambling for the gun.

BANG—

A stray bullet.

And with the sound of metal against concrete, the gun skittered away, sliding across the floor.

Jaehyun's breath was ragged, his heart pounding in his ribs as his body reacted to the punch Sooman threw at his jaw— barely enough time to react when another hit landed in his side, the bullet wound flaring up in agony, causing a guttural scream.

The warehouse air was thick with tension, the faint hum of distant machines barely cutting through the sound of fists colliding with flesh. Jaehyun's breath came in ragged gasps, his body battered and bruised. The metal walls around him echoed every strike, the harsh clanging of steel and bone ringing in his ears. Sooman stood opposite him, a twisted smile on his lips as he wiped blood from his lip, never once breaking his stride.

"You're still here, Jaehyun? I thought you'd be gone by now."

Jaehyun growled, his fists tightening as he lunged forward, throwing a quick jab to Sooman's jaw. It landed with a sickening thud, but Sooman barely flinched. Instead, he grinned wider, dark amusement flickering in his eyes.

"That's the spirit. Too bad it's useless now." Sooman countered, his fist crashing into Jaehyun's ribs. The pain was sharp, instant, and all-consuming. Jaehyun stumbled back, gasping for air, but he didn't fall. He couldn't fall.

Sooman took a step forward, grabbing Jaehyun by the collar and slamming him into a nearby metal crate. The force rattled Jaehyun's skull, and for a moment, everything around him blurred.

"Your father wasn't even able to protect you. You think you can?" Sooman's voice was a taunting whisper in his ear. "You're nothing but a little boy, Jaehyun. Always trying to play grown-up."

Jaehyun's mind flashed back to his father's words from years ago: "Protect Jeno. He'll look up to you one day. Make sure you have something worth looking up to." But what was he now? A broken mess, trapped in a world he couldn't escape from. A world he hated.

"I'm not like you, Sooman," Jaehyun spat, pushing against the crate to regain his footing, his voice a low growl. "I won't be your puppet anymore."

Sooman's expression faltered for just a moment, the first sign of frustration. He shoved Jaehyun hard, sending him sprawling across the ground. Jaehyun's vision blurred, his head spinning from the impact, but he fought the dizziness back. He couldn't let himself go down.

Sooman's footsteps echoed around him, slow and deliberate. "You're still just a kid, Jaehyun. Always trying to run away from the truth. You'll never escape this life. You'll die just like your father did—alone."

Jaehyun's hands trembled, his fingers sore from the pounding he'd taken. His body felt heavy, and with every breath, his muscles screamed in protest. But he refused to let go. He couldn't. Not now.

"You're wrong," Jaehyun grunted, pulling himself to his feet, wiping the blood from his mouth. "I'm not him. I'm not you."

He lunged forward again, this time with everything he had left. A desperate strike, his fist catching Sooman in the side. For a split second, Jaehyun felt the rush of victory—a brief flash of hope. But then, Sooman's fist found his gut, and the air was knocked from his lungs.

Jaehyun staggered back, his vision swimming. His body felt like it was made of stone, heavy and unyielding. But in the pain, he found something. A flicker. Something that drove him forward again.

His fists moved without thinking, each punch feeling like it was ripping him apart, but he kept going, kept fighting. The pain, the exhaustion, the doubt—it all blurred together.

Sooman's face twisted in frustration as Jaehyun landed another blow, this one cutting across his cheek. But the older man's anger boiled over, his attacks becoming more reckless, more vicious. "You think you can beat me? You're nothing but a little boy who doesn't know when to stop."

"I know exactly when to stop," Jaehyun muttered, but it was more to himself than to Sooman. "When it's over."

Sooman charged, and the two collided once more. Metal screeched as Jaehyun was thrown into a pile of rusted equipment, his back slamming against the sharp edges. He let out a pained grunt, but his mind was clear. He couldn't back down. Not now.

Sooman moved in, fury evident in his eyes. Jaehyun barely managed to block a wild swing, feeling the weight of the man's force behind each punch.

And then he landed a punch to Sooman's cheek, sending him stumbling. Jaehyun grabbed him by the collar, throwing him against the nearest wall.

A thin stream of blood dripped from Jaehyun's mouth.

Sooman coughed, spitting blood onto the floor— and then he laughed.

"Is that all you've got?"

Jaehyun's fingers dug into his throat.

"Go to hell."

"After you, kid."

And the next thing Jaehyun knew— something sharp sliced through his shoulder.

A knife.

Sooman's knife.

Jaehyun staggered back, the pain shooting through his arm. The blade gleamed in the faint light as Sooman twisted it, making Jaehyun cry out.

"LET GO!"

The shout echoed through the warehouse. Jaehyun's vision blurred. Blood was pouring from his shoulder, staining the ground beneath him. But a glimmer of hope stirred in his chest as he heard it—the sound of heavy footsteps, the click of weapons being readied.

They were close.

Jaehyun barely had time to process it. His vision swam, his thoughts faltering, as he felt Sooman's grip tighten around the knife's handle. The blade shimmered in the dim light, moving toward Jaehyun's throat, and in that instant, the space between them seemed endless. Jaehyun's pulse thundered in his ears, and it wasn't just from the pain—it was the fear. The fear of dying here, without even a chance to redeem himself, to fix the mess he had made.

He was certain this was it. This was the end.

But then—

The sound of gunshots rang through the warehouse, echoing off the cold metal walls. Baekhyun and his team had arrived.

Sooman froze.

The echo of those gunshots felt like a distant memory, the sharp crack of the weapons like the sound of salvation ringing in Jaehyun's ears.

"Put your fucking hands up, Sooman!"

Baekhyun's voice rang out, unwavering, as the first wave of officers stormed into the warehouse. Jaehyun could barely focus, his vision swimming. He saw flashes of movement—uniformed officers rushing in from all sides, weapons drawn, eyes sharp with determination. They weren't here to negotiate; they were here to end this.

But Jaehyun wasn't sure if he was going to make it long enough to see it through.

"Jaehyun, stay with me." Baekhyun's voice cut through the chaos like a lifeline. Jaehyun's body wanted to collapse, but he held on, his hand still wrapped weakly around Sooman's collar, his knuckles white from the grip.

Sooman hissed through his teeth, pulling the knife back as though to strike again—but before he could, a shout rang through the air.

"Drop the weapon!"

A blur of motion. An officer moved forward, knocking Sooman's arm aside. In an instant, Sooman's knife clattered to the floor, the danger momentarily dissipating. Jaehyun's body slumped, his muscles no longer able to hold him upright. His legs gave out beneath him, and he crumpled to the ground, gasping for breath.

The pain in his shoulder and chest was blinding, but all Jaehyun could think about was the sound of Baekhyun's voice—so close, so real.

"Stay with me, Jaehyun. Stay the hell with me."

Jaehyun's vision wavered. He felt himself slipping into darkness, but there was something about Baekhyun's voice—something that anchored him to the present, something that told him there was still a chance.

Baekhyun was here. They were here.

The world tilted around him as Baekhyun knelt beside him, pulling him into his arms, the pressure on his chest almost unbearable.

"You did good, kid" Baekhyun said. Praying for Jaehyun's life. "Don't you dare close your eyes on me, Jaehyun. We've got him. We've got Sooman. Your family's safe. They're already on their way to another country. Do it for them."

Jaehyun's heart hammered in his chest, each beat growing weaker, his mind clouded. His eyes fluttered, the world blurring as Baekhyun's words seemed to echo in his mind.

"I can't..." Jaehyun muttered, the words barely escaping his lips. "I don't know if I can do it anymore..."

"You can. You can do this," Baekhyun urged, his grip firm on Jaehyun's shoulders as he helped him sit against the wall. His voice was raw, thick with a kind of emotion Jaehyun hadn't expected. "This isn't the end. We're going to fix this, I promise you. Stay with me."

But Jaehyun could feel the darkness tugging at him, could feel the weight of his body, the ache of his soul. His vision was dimming, the world around him fading into a cold silence.

A blur of memories crashed through his mind, sharp and unrelenting. The scene was too familiar—too much like that night seven years ago. But this time, it wasn't his father slipping away.

It was him.

And yet, even as the darkness closed in, the faces of those he loved refused to fade. Jeno, his mother, Sicheng—(Y/N)... they surged through his thoughts like a heartbeat, relentless, desperate. As if remembering them could anchor him here, could pull him back from the edge.

But he wasn't sure he had anything left to hold on to.

"You're not alone," Baekhyun whispered, just as Jaehyun's vision began to collapse into a blur of black.

And his prayers faded into the night.

The dawn after the setup.

(Y/N) felt like a prisoner in her own home.

For the past few days, her life had been reduced to tears that never seemed to stop. Because just when she thought she had no more left to cry, her body would prove her wrong—another wave would come, leaving her breathless, leaving her drowning.

Daeho was stable now. They had discharged him yesterday afternoon, and for a brief moment, she had felt relief. He was alive. He was safe. That should have been enough.

But it wasn't.

Because this morning, she was about to load her suitcases into the back of her family's Range Rover.

Her face was streaked with tears, red from exhaustion, from grief, from anger. Her chest ached, her throat burned from the countless fights, the desperate pleas, the hours spent screaming at walls that refused to listen.

It was official.

Her parents were sending her away.

And there was nothing she could do to stop it.

The sky outside was painted in shades of soft gray, the world caught in the fragile moment between night and morning. But inside, (Y/N)'s world was already falling apart.

She gripped the handle of her suitcase, her fingers trembling against the cold metal.

She didn't want to go.

Her body refused to move, her legs felt like lead, but outside, the Range Rover was waiting. The engine was on, her parents were waiting for her to get in, and every passing second felt like another nail sealing her fate.

Her chest felt too tight, her breath coming in uneven gasps as if she were suffocating.

This wasn't supposed to happen.

The world looked the same. But her world had already changed

Daeho stood beside her, hands shoved deep into his pockets, his posture stiff with guilt. His face was still pale from the overdose, the dark circles under his eyes proof of the hell they had all just lived through.

"This isn't fair." Her voice was barely a whisper, but Daeho still heard it.

"I know."

The weight of everything pressed down on her chest.

She didn't just feel like she was leaving. She felt like she was being erased.

Her mind drifted back—to the streets she had walked a thousand times, to the skyline she had memorized, to the memories woven into every corner of this city.

She thought about Jungwoo.

The best friend who had been by her side since childhood. The one who had made her laugh even on her worst days. The one who had always known how to pull her back from the edge.

She had told him everything. About Jaehyun. About the way she felt.

And the night she found out she was leaving, he had held her while she cried.

"What am I supposed to do without you?" she had whispered, voice raw with heartbreak.

Jungwoo had smiled—a sad, knowing smile.

"You'll figure it out," he had said. "You always do."

But now, as she stood here, ripped away from the life she had built, from the people who made her feel whole—she wasn't so sure.

The night she found out she was leaving, she had tried.

Tried to call him. Tried to text him. Tried to reach him in any way she could.

But Jaehyun was nowhere.

Her messages went unanswered. The calls rang and rang before going straight to voicemail.

She had never felt more helpless.

Maybe he was avoiding her. Maybe he had already decided that it was better this way.

Or maybe... he never even saw her messages at all.

Either way, the silence spoke louder than words ever could.

And now, it was too late.

(Y/N) clenched her fists, nails digging into her palms as she fought to hold back the tears threatening to spill.

She had already lost the battle.

Daeho shifted beside her, his gaze lowered to the ground.

"I'm sorry," he murmured. His voice was quiet, but the weight of it was crushing.

(Y/N) swallowed hard, turning to look at him, her throat burning.

"This isn't your fault." But even as she said it, they both knew it wasn't true.

If Daeho had never fallen into that spiral, if he had never overdosed—maybe their parents wouldn't have made this decision. Maybe she wouldn't be standing here, forced to leave behind everything.

"I should've been stronger," Daeho admitted, his voice cracking. He finally looked at her, eyes glassy, full of regret. "I should've handled things differently. Maybe then—maybe you wouldn't have to go."

Her lips trembled.

"I don't want to go."

Maybe if things had been different... Maybe if Daeho had been okay... Maybe if Jaehyun had answered the phone...

Maybe she wouldn't be standing here, saying goodbye to everything she loved.

The driver asked them to get in the car politely.

It was time.

Daeho gave her a small, broken smile.

"We'll be okay, right?" he asked.

(Y/N) swallowed hard.

"I hope so."

She turned, took one last look at the house, at the city beyond it.

At the life she was leaving behind.

And then she got in the car.

She didn't look back.

Because if she did—she knew she wouldn't be able to leave.

The car hummed steadily as it rolled down the street, the low sound of the tires against the pavement oddly comforting in the midst of the storm inside her chest. (Y/N) leaned her forehead against the cold window, watching the city slip away from her, each passing building another piece of her life she was leaving behind.

Her throat was tight, her chest aching as the weight of it all settled deeper inside her, making it hard to breathe, hard to think. She couldn't escape the feeling that everything she had loved, everything that had ever made her feel like she belonged, was being ripped from her. It felt like she was suffocating, the air heavy with the bitter taste of regret.

Beside her, Daeho stared out the window too, his expression empty, like he'd already gone somewhere far beyond the confines of the car. He hadn't said a word since they left, and neither had she. There was nothing left to say.

But the silence, deafening as it was, didn't give her any peace.

Her mind drifted to the night before. To the phone calls she had tried to make, to the desperate messages she had sent, to the desperate hope that maybe, just maybe, Jaehyun would answer.

But nothing.

His silence felt like a slap in the face. The unanswered calls, the unread messages—it hurt in a way that felt wrong, almost cruel.

She felt stupid for even thinking it, but part of her couldn't help it. Jaehyun had been so close. They had shared something real, something that had burned so brightly she thought it could survive anything. But now it felt like a distant memory, a dream she would never wake up from.

If she could just talk to him, tell him everything—tell him she was sorry for leaving—maybe things could have been different. But she would never get that chance now.

Her fingers tightened around her seatbelt, her mind spinning with all the things left unsaid.

The car had been quiet for what felt like hours, the air inside thick with unspoken words, with tension that neither of them seemed to know how to break. The city was far behind them now, the skyline a distant memory in the rearview mirror, swallowed by the horizon. And the weight of it all pressed down harder with each mile.

(Y/N) didn't look out the window anymore. She couldn't. There was no point in watching the city she loved disappear. It was as though the farther she went, the more she faded from it.

Daeho shifted beside her, his face still pale from everything that had happened. He hadn't spoken since they left the house, but his presence next to her was a reminder of everything she was leaving behind. Everything she didn't want to leave.

The Range Rover pulled into the airport parking lot, the sudden noise of it startling in the midst of their silence.

It was real now.

Her thoughts were interrupted by the sound of her phone buzzing in her pocket. Her heart skipped. Jaehyun? She quickly pulled it out, fingers trembling as she unlocked the screen. It was a message, but from Jaehyun? She swallowed hard and tapped it open.

It wasn't from him.

6:45 am - Jungwoo— have a good flight, bestie. I promise to visit you once you settle down.

"Are you okay?" Daeho's voice was soft as he stood beside her, watching her face, sensing the tension that held her in place. She nodded, though the anxiety bubbling inside her made her feel anything but okay.

She forced a smile, not wanting him to see how fragile she really was. "Yeah, I'm fine."

She didn't mean it. She wasn't fine. She hadn't been fine for days, weeks, maybe even longer. She missed Jaehyun more than she could put into words. But right now, standing at the edge of her own escape, all she could feel was the silence. He wasn't there. He wasn't answering, and she didn't know why.

She clenched her fists at her sides, willing the tears back. She couldn't break down now, not when everything was finally set in motion. Not when she was leaving it all behind—her family, her life, her love.

(Y/N) took a deep breath and walked toward the gate, feeling as if each step was a small betrayal of everything she cared about. She had been waiting for a sign, for something to pull her back, to tell her that Jaehyun was still there, that he wasn't completely lost to her. But the silence remained, deafening, suffocating.

It was too late.

She reached the boarding gate, her stomach twisting with every passing moment. And still, no call. No message. No word from Jaehyun. Just the bitter emptiness that had taken root in her chest.

She looked down at her phone again, scrolling through her contacts, her thumb hovering over Jaehyun's name. She could try one more time. She could reach out again, maybe this time, he'd pick up. Maybe he'd explain. But she didn't.

She couldn't.

Every time she reached out, it felt like he was farther away.

The plane was waiting, the final call ringing through the terminal, and (Y/N) stood frozen in the silence that felt like it was swallowing her whole.

As the plane took off, rising into the morning sky, (Y/N) looked out the window, a deep ache consuming her. She was leaving, yes, but it didn't feel like freedom. It felt like loss.

And Jaehyun? She didn't know where he was. What he was doing. All she knew was that he was no longer reaching out.

Her heart was still tangled in a web of longing and regret, but she knew one thing: she needed to survive. She had to.

And when the time came, when the distance between them was finally bridged, she would find herself again.

But for now, all she could do was walk forward. She would take the first step toward healing, even if she didn't know where it would lead her.

And she prayed. She asked the Universe to let her find a way back to him.

— In this lifetime.

a/n: NOT PROOFEAD! Okay, yes this is the last chapter— I'M SORRY. I know it's pure angst. I KNOW, but fot what is worth it, WE STILL HAVE THE EPILOGUE LEFT. Which i'm gonna post it between tonight or tomorrow morning. It might be the final chapter here— but we still have a part left, so what do you think it'll happen? I'm promise it's not that bad. I wanna see what you think so far, so you can leave a comment or talk to me here. I want to specify that (Y/N) doesn't know what happened to Jaehyun, so maybe that leave us some hope for the epilogue? read the epilogue here.

idk why some of the tags just don’t work out! but we still gonna see each other later or tomorrow for the epilogue!

Feel free to send any asks here if you want!

welp, now that ILMBWIWY has officially end… im wondering what type of au should i write next. 🤥

also, for those who read jaehyun’s fic… did you enjoy it? cause i certainly enjoyed writing the story, specifically the epilogue^^

#yongility asks #yongility #nct au #nct #nctzen #just wondering

just finished chapter 10 for jaehyun’s fic. posting it tmrw.

i'm so sad it has come to an end, but after procrastinating the story a lot— it feels comforting being able to finish it.

we’re still gonna have an epilogue so we’ll see each other again (but you didn’t hear that from me)

see you tomorrow for the grand finale! buckle your seatbelts, because we’re in for a long ride!

#yongility #yongility asks #sobbing #jaehyun fanfic #im cryin #girl rotting

The bloom beneath the frost was amazing!! Your writing style is so unique and descriptive, the entire time I could feel the reader's emotions and felt so scared for her (truthfully an experience I wouldn't want anyone to have). I also adored the relationship between her and Seonghwa from how it went from him just wanting to work on her case to something much more! The lead up to the kiss with the domesticity had such cozy feels and the ending had my heart pounding with how everything was going to unfold. This is definitely going to be one of my favourite Seonghwa fics and I would love if you wrote more for ateez (if you're comfortable with that ofc!)

hello there!!! I’m glad you like the bloom beneath the frost! im very content with how the fic came out because i put a lot of effort in it and im so thankful for all the people that gave it a chance, so far is my most viewed fic!

and yes i would love to write more for ateez! actually i have some ideas on my notes that i need to get done with but it’s just been so busy lately because i just moved to another place! so im getting everything back to normal… once that I’m completely settled ill be able to keep working on those ideas, wait for it!!!

thankfully i already have like 2 different fic ideas on my drafts — hehe. which i think gonna be reeeeeally good!

thank you for reaching out and sharing your thoughts about the bloom beneath the frost, im always happy to know that ppl likes something i did….

don’t be afraid to reach out anytime you want….

…. send asks here.

#yongility asks #yongility #ateez fic #ateez fanfic #the bloom beneath the frost #asks #send asks #answered asks #asks open #send me asks #my asks #anon asks