Ateez X Gn Reader - Tumblr Posts

to love you

when you ask him to be your fake fling he’s not prepared for the way it will make his unaddressed feelings for you grow

⇀ pairing wooyoung x gn!reader (references to yunho x gn!reader)

⇀ genre fluff, angst, fake dating au, unspecified nonidol au, f2l, one sided pining

⇀ style one shot

⇀ word count 10.4k

⇀ warnings jealousy, talks of hooking up, talks of vomit, crying, yelling at reader, yelling at wooyoung, just like a lot of general yelling, something that could be interpreted as a panic attack (no specific descriptions), allusions to violence (in a non-serious sense), cursing, food, alcohol consumption (assumed all characters are of age), parties, multiple kisses, pet names (love, babe), skinship (head on a shoulder, holding hands, holding faces), let me know if i missed anything

you and wooyoung certainly weren’t best friends but that’s not to say you two were enemies either. you’d met each other through a friend of a friend just over a year ago and even though you both felt an instant connection, it was nothing that had either of you suddenly intertwining your lives. wooyoung would consider you a casual friend and if he asked he’s about 89% sure you would say the same, 1% of the other 11 was reserved for what his best friend yeosang liked to call his “simp brain” that wanted to imagine you’d call him something along the lines of a crush, but disregarding the tiny baby so minor and minuscule romantic interest wooyoung had in you, you both were casual friends, “i’m already in the neighborhood, do you want to grab coffee” friends, “i was supposed to have a date but they bailed and i’m already dressed up, do you want to get drinks” friends. you both were certainly not “can you be my fake boyfriend?” friends.

“i’m sorry, what?” wooyoung is lucky he swallowed the last sip of his coffee or it would likely be all over his open laptop.

“you know that guy yunho?” you supply, quite unhelpfully in wooyoung’s opinion.

and yeah of course he knows yunho, he’s yeosang’s roommate, and the guy you haven’t been able to shut up about for the past month. “what does he have to do with anything?” he asks, trying to keep any of the jealousy he felt bubbling in his stomach at the mention of yunho’s name from showing on his face.

you roll your eyes like the answer is obvious as you reply, “well i was talking with mingi the other day,” mingi being the friend you had met wooyoung through in the first place, “and he said i should try making yunho jealous, because he’s pretty sure yunho is actually interested in me but just, like, needs that push.”

wooyoung nods slowly as he continues to listen to you rant, trying to understand where in your mind you think taking mingi’s advice, especially when it came to your love life, would be a good idea. wooyoung loved mingi but the man hadn’t had a date in more than six months and he’s not even sure when the last time his roommate had any romantic interest in anyone was.

“-and so i figured the best way to make someone jealous is basically seem interested in someone else,” you conclude as the man sat across from you tunes back in, trying to look like he’d been listening the whole time instead of wondering how he’d found himself in this situation. he was definitely going to have to talk to mingi once he got back home.

“and you thought i was the best choice for that?” wooyoung raises a brow as you sip your drink.

you nod quickly as you swallow. “well i’m pretty sure he knows hongjoong and seonghwa are dating, jongho is very clearly not my type, i’m not close enough with san, and i doubt he would believe yeo and i were a thing considering they live together,” you explain, listing off all the men in your close circle of friends, except for him, yunho, and mingi, and for a second he considers trying to twist mingi’s intentions by suggesting that maybe the tall blonde is the one who likes you and is looking for an excuse to get close to you but he can still recall the look of sadness on the gentle giant’s face the last time wooyoung threw him under the bus. the look of determination on your face makes it seem like you’d been thinking about this for more than a day, hell maybe even more than a week, but wooyoung can’t tell if your resolve should be alarming in any way because he’s much too worried about the prospect of what pretending to be in a relationship with you might do to his heart.

in a last ditch effort he asks, “isn’t this what, like, tinder is for?” and the way you sigh cues him in to know that you’ve definitely considered that avenue already.

“i don’t want to lead on some poor guy for my own gain like that.”

of course you don’t, you’re too nice, and if you knew that wooyoung would agree in a heartbeat, if it weren’t for his microscopic eensy-weensy romantic interest in you, he’s sure you wouldn’t be asking him for the exact same reason, but wooyoung has been set to keep his feelings to himself since he realized they existed at all and so he can only blame himself for the current situation. well maybe he can blame mingi too but, again, that’s a conversation for later.

wooyoung sighs. “i need to know your plan before i’ll agree to anything,” he says but he knows he’ll end up saying yes no matter what when he sees the way your face immediately lights up at the prospect of your plan working successfully.

“okay,” you place your hands against the table excitedly, causing both of your drinks to wobble slightly, “i was thinking it could be more of a casual thing instead of a full blown relationship so that it would be more believable when we break it off.” you explain and wooyoung can feel that he’s not going to get any work done today, closing his laptop in defeat as he rests his chin on top of his hand, his elbow now placed on the table.

after you’d explained the details of your idea, and your fake situationship, you and wooyoung both left the cafe with a plan for the next couple weeks, leading up to a big party yunho and yeosang were hosting in which you’d explain to yunho that your thing with wooyoung was over and you’d get together and it would all work out.

he had to give it to you, wooyoung had doubted how much rational thought you’d actually put into your idea when you first asked but after hearing you out he was almost convinced himself that it might work. secretly wooyoung was hoping for the romcom ending in which you would realize he was the one that was interested in you, but that was just a itty-bitty thought in the back of his mind, totally not a thought swirling around his head and making his heart thump his entire journey home after you’d parted ways.

“hey, how was your day?” mingi is quick to greet his roommate with a large smile as wooyoung takes off his shoes in the entryway.

“hm yeah it was fine,” wooyoung starts with sarcasm dripping from his voice, “except for the part where you convinced my friend to ask me for a fake relationship!” his words had progressively gotten louder as he approached the taller man, now looking like a kicked puppy and cowering on the couch.

“what’s going on?” seonghwa, who had been trying to pay attention to the television is now alerted to the conflict between his friends when mingi almost sat right on him.

“mingi convinced (y/n) that they just need to make yunho jealous in order to get him to make a move,” wooyoung plops down next to seonghwa, arms crossed in front of his chest and pout set on his face.

“and that’s your problem because,” seonghwa trials off, gesturing for wooyoung to supply the rest of the sentence before placing a comforting hand on mingi’s arm.

“because,” wooyoung sighs, taking a deep breath before he finishes his sentence, “they asked me to be their fake situationship.”

mingi pops up off the couch suddenly at wooyoung’s statement, looking just as surprised as wooyoung is sure he was in the cafe with you less than an hour earlier.

“i did NOT suggest they fake date one of our friends,” mingi explains, scrambling through the living room in search of, well, wooyoung’s not sure. “my suggestion was to just get a little comfy with someone at a party or something,” he explains, pulling the pillow off from where he’d been sat and sighing in relief as he takes his phone into his hands, fingers flying across the screen in a panic.

“i don’t see the issue,” seonghwa interjects, “it’s not like you’re actually dating and it’s not even like you’re fake dating if you’re not calling it official,” the oldest of the group shrugs, opening one of the boxes of pizza on the coffee table and pulling out a slice for himself. “plus it’s not like you’re interested in them or anything.”

mingi freezes at this, his behavior a complete 180 from only a few seconds ago as his gaze slowly drifts up from his phone to wooyoung who has stiffened next to seonghwa. the two youngest both let out audibly pained chuckles and seonghwa drops his plate dramatically back down onto the table.

“don’t tell me.”

wooyoung clears his throat loudly. “so i may have, like, the tiniest most insignificant crush on them,” he practically whispers, face feeling slightly warmer at the prospect of the situation he’s in, and certainly not his feelings for you.

seonghwa narrows his eyes at the youngest, a question on the tip of his tongue before mingi decides to supply the answer anyway.

“you’ve been in love with them for months, we all know.”

“i am not in love with them,” wooyoung shouts back, anger reignited as he focused back on the true root of the issue, mingi and his bright ideas. “yes i might think they’re attractive, and yes i would like to date them for real, and maybe, just maybe, i do get a little jealous when they talk about yunho, but that doesn’t mean i like them that much.”

wooyoung feels the energy fizzling out and his words get weaker as he observed the looks on his roommates’ faces. mingi seems almost smug, like he’s been proven right, while seonghwa wears an amused grin, eyebrows raised slightly in satisfaction.

“you’re sure about that?”

the next week, as he’s laying sprawled out on his best friend’s bed, yeosang busy putting away his freshly cleaned laundry, he sighs for what feels like the millionth time and the dark haired man at the closet has had enough.

“either say something or stop sighing,” yeosang grunts, placing the last hanging item in the closet. as he moves to sit at his desk, wooyoung flips onto his stomach quickly, causing the bed to creek and him to bounce slightly.

“i just don’t get it,” wooyoung says and yeosang resists the urge to groan. this is the same conversation the two had been having since wooyoung found out about your interest in yeosang’s roommate.

woo complains that he doesn’t understand why you think yunho is so great and then yeo has to bring his friend back to reality by reminding him that yunho is actually a pretty great guy and that woo is the one who could change his own fate, if he just had the balls to admit he was interested in you. but of course wooyoung always manages to weasel out of the truth, claiming that he doesn’t like you that much, or that you don’t like him, which yeo thinks is shit considering the amount of times you started ditching him for his own best friend but he’s not a snitch.

it’s yeosang’s turn to sigh. “i’m not doing this again,” he mutters. “yunho is not a bad guy, in fact he’s a great guy, all of his previous relationships ended amicably, he’s not unattractive according to the people that have asked me to give him their number, and as far as i know he and (y/n) actually have quite a bit in common.” yeosang turns to wooyoung quickly, finding the younger man with a small pout gracing his features.

as wooyoung opens his mouth to possibly argue against one of the points his friend had raised, both men hear the familiar sound of the front door opening and yunho’s usual greeting rings through the apartment. both boys suddenly feel like they’ve been caught, wooyoung’s eyes going wide for a moment as yeosang turns back to busy himself with the unfolded clothes on his desk.

“hey,” yunho says, poking his head through yeosang’s open door a few moments later. “they were out of those macarons you like at the cafe so i got you a maple cinnamon roll instead, y/n suggested it.”

at the mention of your name wooyoung perks up, trying not to seem too eager at the mere thought of you.

“sorry woo, i didn’t know you were over until after i’d ordered or i would have gotten you something,” yunho apologizes and wooyoung hates that he can tell it’s sincere.

wooyoung thinks it would be a lot easier to hate his best friend’s roommate if he was not actually such a nice guy. but he just can’t hate him, he might dislike him a bit for being such a great guy and being the one to hold your attention, but honestly feeling anything but amicable toward the man just makes him feel guilty. it’s not yunho’s fault you find him attractive and it’s certainly not yunho’s fault that wooyoung can’t just admit his feelings.

“you ran into y/n?” yeosang asks, honestly not trying too hard to hide the glance he throws wooyoung’s direction.

yunho nods as he moves to fully lean against yeosang’s doorframe. “they said they were stopping by the cafe before they were supposed to meet a friend.”

yeosang and wooyoung both nod in response, wooyoung’s a little more engaged while yeosang keeps looking between his two best friends.

“they actually asked if you were over,” yunho continues, gesturing to wooyoung with a quick tick of his chin.

the younger man’s expression quickly shifts to confusion before he’s remembering your idea he’d been telling yeosang about only half an hour before. he tries to tone down the shock of hearing you ask about him as he asks, “really?”

“yeah,” yunho chuckles slightly. “they said you weren’t answering any of their texts and that only happens when you’re with yeosang.”

before yunho is even done with his explanation wooyoung is digging through the slightly askew comforter he’d unceremoniously dropped himself and his phone onto once he’d arrived an hour ago. he’s not sure if you just made up the statement to prove to yunho that you two were close, as you truly didn’t text each other much outside of making plans, but no matter if you were just trying to provoke yunho you had spoken the truth. just about every time you texted wooyoung he would drop everything to respond. mingi would call it being “down bad”, and maybe wooyoung was learning to accept that fact about himself.

as wooyoung scrolled through the texts you’d sent him, a little update about how you think the plan is working and a picture of a cute dog that you said looked a little like him, which totally didn’t make him blush, he hears yunho clear his throat.

“are you two,” yunho pauses as wooyoung glances up at him, finding the conversation to feel a bit stiff and uncomfortable. “are you two like a thing?” yunho finally asks, finding the setup of yeosang’s room to be more interesting as his friend watches a blush creep onto the tips of his ears.

it’s wooyoung’s turn to find the decor around him interesting as he replies, trying to remember everything you’d talked about, “i wouldn’t call it a thing.” wooyoung shrugs trying to seem cool as he feels his heart beat creeping up into his throat.

he hadn’t anticipated it being this hard. the man hadn’t even lied about anything yet and he could still feel the guilt settling into the back of his throat, flavoring his words with a bitterness that held a strange mix of satisfaction, for getting to even pretend to know you in a more intimate way than his current competition, and regret, for agreeing to be apart of a plan that might cause one of his friends any distress.

“they’ve just been talking about you a lot,” yunho adds and if wooyoung had a little less self control he’d probably have fallen right off yeosang’s bed. he’s too focused on the thought of you purposely mentioning him in conversation to others to think about how yunho would know, the older man probably having seen you more times than wooyoung had in the past week.

“i think they’re in what you might call a situationship,” yeosang supplies when wooyoung doesn’t respond, shrugging as if he has no interest in the information he’d just shared.

wooyoung bites his tongue as he takes a deep breath, mentally preparing to tell the biggest lie he’s probably told in his whole life, just as you’d agreed to. “you remember that party their friend, whatever-her-name-was, had a few weeks ago?”

yunho nods gently, now able to look at wooyoung again after having determined that the conversation maybe wasn’t that uncomfortable.

“well we kinda,” wooyoung pauses, knowing it’s his last chance to back out before everything changes, and so he pushes forward with a sigh, “we hooked up that night and we’ve gotten together a few times since then.”

for wooyoung, it felt weird to say, the statement now just sitting in the air as he sees yunho trying to digest the information. he thought it might make him feel some way but instead he just feels empty, knowing that it’s entirely untrue. sure you’d left that party together, a fact that you had remembered and wanted to use in order to make your little fib realistic, but you’d both simply had enough of partying that night and gone for food at the convenience store on the corner before he walked you home. as far as wooyoung was aware, and he was pretty sure you didn’t go anywhere after he left your doorstep, you’d both gone to bed alone that night. and yet wooyoung didn’t feel like he could let himself daydream even the thought of you both actually doing anything then, the idea much too dangerous for the way he’d slowly started accepting what all his friends had been telling him about his affections recently. and even though he might be able to admit that he does have a crush on you, he certainly wasn’t expecting to hear the question falling from yunho’s lips.

“do you love them?”

wooyoung could feel his stomach jump right into his throat, his heart plummeting at the same time and causing nausea to replace the guilt he’d been wadding in just moments earlier.

“uh i think love is maybe a strong term,” he tries to chuckle lightly but he can hear the awkwardness permeating the laugh. “but i do like them.”

it’s the first time he’s admitted it without a caveat, and just like with the lie before, he feels the emptiness returning except instead of sitting deep into his stomach it fills his entire chest cavity, only stirring the nausea and making him feel like he’d much rather sink into the covers of his best friend’s bed than continue this conversation. he’s just not sure how much more he can say before he might actually vomit.

yunho nods slowly, a thoughtful look on his face, before he says, “i think you two would be good together.”

wooyoung is much too focused on staying grounded and not revealing the sickness that he feels to analyze whether yunho is telling the truth, a slight burn building in his chest of what he can only assume is bile, and at this point he’s not sure he wants to know what yunho thinks anymore. why did he agree to this?

“well, that roll is on the counter whenever you want it yeo,” yunho continues, oblivious to the turmoil brewing in wooyoung’s mind and body. “see you later woo.”

with that the man is gone, disappearing into his bedroom down the hall.

yeosang turns to his best friend quickly, ready to supposedly recap the conversation but stops in his tracks when he sees the look of pain on wooyoung’s face.

“how am i gonna make it through this?”

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

the next week or so is filled with moments similar to this, where he has to look at yunho and lie straight to his face, straight to his own heart. and although yeosang assured that it would have to get easier at some point, wooyoung can feel he’s reaching his own breaking point.

throughout the process, as you execute your plan, you actually try to spend more time with wooyoung, starting with simple little outings that weren’t too different from things you might do usually. at some point these outings morphed into full fledged dates, and every time wooyoung felt himself sinking into the idea that he might be able to just enjoy this for what it was, you were quick to mention the plan and pop the bubble that wooyoung had found solace in. although he feels something unfamiliar burning lightly in his chest he can’t even fathom to be mad at you, too unbelievably happy in those moments where he could forget that you were faking it all.

“i’m not sure this is good for you anymore,” seonghwa had said one day after wooyoung had come home from a day out with you, plopping himself down onto the couch with an exhausted heart from the emotional roller coaster you were unknowingly taking him on.

wooyoung only let out a grunt, the sound muffled by the cushion his face was squished against, and seonghwa sighed in response.

“you’re tearing yourself apart for them,” seonghwa tried to reason, his quest of stopping this little escapade you’d set yourself on as futile as always.

wooyoung was sure he was delirious at this point, fatigue settled deep into his body from the way he felt he was chasing every moment with you, and so the next words that slipped off his tongue were completely unvetted by his mind and entirely from the heart.

“how else would i be able to love them?”

if seonghwa is surprised by the statement he doesn’t show it, his face neutral as wooyoung turns to look at him, the older man now crouched next to where wooyoung lies. he’s not sure what reaction he expected, and he knows that he asked an unanswerable question, but somehow wooyoung’s not surprised when seonghwa reaches out to run a gentle hand up and down the younger’s back.

the next words wooyoung speaks come out watery as he feels tears pricking at the back of his eyes and that unfamiliar burn returns to his chest, “they’ll always love someone else.”

as much as seonghwa wants to argue, to point out that you shouldn’t think in forevers and absolutes, right now he knows that his friend just needs comfort. so he moves to pull wooyoung so that he’s sitting, seonghwa moving into the space he’s created on the couch and taking his younger friend into his arms, letting him sob gently against his shoulder.

as if he couldn’t feel bad enough about this entire situation, wooyoung wakes the next morning to a text from you. normally he might feel a bit giddy to hear from you but the message is nothing like any of the ones you’d recently started sending, casual conversations about your days and cute pictures of things that reminded you of him. it was cold, with a finite energy and wooyoung could feel it like a punch to the chest.

y/n: let’s break it off

wooyoung can barely perceive himself moving to message you back, feeling like he’s gone into autopilot. he’s tried to be prepared for this but with the way he’s allowed himself to feel with you for the past few weeks it’s almost as devastating as knowing that he’s been making himself comfortable inside of a lie. as he turns over to try to return to sleep he feels that same something unfamiliar burn in his chest.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

“you should go anyway,” yeosang says, looking down at wooyoung from his place on the couch.

wooyoung has taken to wallowing in self pity on the floor of his living room, mingi having forcefully pulled him out of the pitiful nest he had created of his bed a few hours ago upon seonghwa’s request.

“and see yunho all over them, no thank you,” wooyoung pouts.

the two of them had been talking about the party at yeosang’s, and by extension yunho’s, place since yeosang had arrived just over an hour ago. the party was supposed to be the final phase of the plan, when you would confront yunho, with the help of the alcohol that would surely be in your system, and wooyoung was obviously less than enthusiastic to see you complete the last stage of the plan. his best friend had been arguing that he could reasonably avoid you the entire night and be able to have fun anyway, but wooyoung wasn’t in the mood to have fun in the first place.

“if you just stay by the beer pong table the whole night i’m sure you’ll be able to avoid them,” mingi supplies helpfully, to which wooyoung whines in response.

“and have a perfect view of the rest of the room, where everyone else will be having the time of their lives, yeah great, very cool,” wooyoung spits sarcastically, limbs flailing about around him as he tries to push away the mental images of all of his friends getting to have a great night while he tries to keep from silently crying into his cup in a corner.

“so you’re just never going to go to another party?” seonghwa asks, stepping over his roommate as he goes about tidying the living room, setting things that had migrated amongst the room back where they belong.

wooyoung stops at this, turning over quickly so he can toss seonghwa, who spares no glance to him, a questioning look. “what do you mean?”

seonghwa just shrugs, dusting an empty shelf before he reorganizes the knick-knacks that would sit on it. “well, if you’re avoiding this party because you don’t want to see them together, then you’re going to have to avoid every party where you know they’ll be, which will likely be every party you’re invited to,” seonghwa explains, enunciating slowly as though wooyoung is only a child.

“and if you’re just avoiding anything they’ll be at together are you going to stop coming to group hangouts, or anything either one of them is at in fear that the other person will show up,” seonghwa continues, oblivious to the way wooyoung seems to be melting into the floor as he realizes how crazy his logic from earlier sounds now that the eldest is breaking it down like this. “so are you just going to stop being friends with both of them?”

wooyoung lets out something akin to a growl as he flops once more onto his back, his legs kicking in the air as he knows that he’s been cornered. “i get it,” he whines, hands smacking gently against his face in defeat.

“if you just rip the bandaid off now it’ll be so much easier,” yeosang adds, “you won’t have built it up more than you have already.”

“i hate when you’re all right.”

so, with the caveat that he can hang onto one of his roommates the whole night for emotional support, wooyoung finally agrees to attend the party.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

“have you been avoiding me?”

wooyoung knew it was a bad idea to come to this cafe, the same one he had made that stupid agreement with you at, the one where you might be found more often than not, your favorite cafe. and if any of his friends were here with him they might just call him an absolute idiot, yeosang might even call it masochistic, to think that he could avoid you in the one spot you were sure to be.

“avoiding you?” wooyoung hears himself speak before he is even able to process what he should say, his nerves too frazzled by your proximity, standing closer than he thinks you ever have before. it certainly doesn’t help that with the warmer weather lately you’ve taken to start cycling your summer clothes into your wardrobe, your outfit today including one of your favorite tank tops, showing off the soft skin of your collarbone and shoulders. wooyoung has to use all of his self control to not reach out and brush his fingertips against you, tracing shapes into your skin and feeling you shudder beneath his gentle touches.

he’s snapped suddenly out of the trance he had been sinking into when you speak again, “you haven’t been answering any of my messages.”

at this wooyoung moves his gaze to your face and although he can see the teasing smile that graces your lips he can still spot a bit of disappointment swimming in your eyes.

“i’m sorry,” he replies, sounding much too genuine for the way you had seemed to be trying to hide your true disappointment in the playfulness of your usual cadence you adopted around him, and he feels the familiar pool of guilt start to fill the void that he’d been keeping in the pit of his stomach since you’d broken things off.

as you stand before him, forcing him into your personal space and looking at him expectantly, he thinks back to his decision to turn off notifications from your number, one that all of his friends had already torn him to shreds for. at the time he had reasoned that it was to protect himself from the repeated heartbreak he would suffer every time he might interact with you. unfortunately, in making this decision he hadn’t thought about what his seemingly sudden disappearance from your life might do to you, he hadn’t considered that he might be hurting you, and the guilt only grows.

you seem to be slightly taken back by his apology, likely not expecting him to reply in earnest, taking a moment to collect yourself before you state, “so you admit it, you were avoiding me,” although it comes out as more of a question, your head tilting gently as you seem to be inspecting the man before you, and wooyoung hates that he feels so exposed.

you aren’t even aware of the way you hold wooyoung’s heart in your hands but the longer you stand dissecting his expression the more he feels like your grip on it is too tight. he can’t tell whether you want him to answer honestly, or if you even care if he does, his mind is far too clouded by the scent of your shampoo along with the hurt he can see you trying to hide behind the confusion in your eyes, and he feels the familiar prickle of tears forming in his own.

he watches as your own features turn to concern, but before either of you can move to speak again, you’re both thrust out of the moment as someone behind you asks, “are you two going to move? you’re holding up the line.”

and suddenly wooyoung feels like the entire world can see him, pathetically crying over a person stood directly in front of him, and he needs to get out.

he’s not sure how he manages to make it out of the cafe with his vision as watery as it is, tears now fully rolling down his cheeks, but he assumes muscle memory simply kicked in as he finds himself briskly walking in the direction of his apartment.

“wooyoung!” he hears you call behind him and for a moment he considers stopping but then he feels that familiar burn in his chest, the same one he felt when you’d broken things off, and in a moment of clarity, as his feet carry him further from the agreement you’d both made, he realizes what it is, anger. although he’s never felt anger like this before, anger that roots itself into that guilt he’d been building for the entire time you’d pretended to be something. so it’s not an anger he can quickly pick apart and resolve, no, it’s an anger that feels like it feeds off of everything he’s been through for the past month. he’s angry at himself, for being so stubborn for so long, at his friends, for pushing for him to reanalyze his feelings, at the situation, for being so complicated, at yunho, for being the one you want, at the plan, for making everything worse, and most importantly at you.

his feet suddenly come to a halt, and you must have been closer behind than he thought because just a moment later he feels you running right into his back, not having expected him to actually stop.

“what do you want from me?” he spits, whipping around and causing you to jump in surprise.

“wooyoung,“ you begin softly, feeling his gaze sharp and strong, “what’s wrong?”

“you want to know what’s wrong?” he laughs, the sound void of any real humor. “you’re what’s wrong.”

you try not to react, knowing that he probably doesn’t mean what he’s saying, but he can see the way your hands, that had been hesitantly reaching toward him, suddenly drop to your sides.

“you and your goddamn plan,” he starts. “why couldn’t you have just fucking talked to yunho yourself instead of dragging me along for your own fun? you’re so goddamn selfish it doesn’t even cross your mind that other people might get hurt by the shit you think up. but it doesn’t matter to you does it? no one else’s feelings and emotions really matter as long as you can get what you want in the end. how long are you gonna string along yunho before you have to tell him you’re a liar and break his heart too? how many other guys are you going to hurt and then manipulate into feeling guilty for protecting themselves from you, huh?”

by the end of his rant he’s shouting, surely attracting attention from anyone else just trying to go about their lives that might happen to pass you both on the sidewalk, but wooyoung couldn’t care less, each word cooling the burn in his chest and laced with the anger that he can no longer stand to house inside of himself.

“wooyoung, please-“ you try to start, but he must miss the watery way you speak and how your own tears now threaten to join his on the sidewalk as he interrupts you.

“i wish i could just stop loving you,” and with his final peace spoken he turns and begins, once again, the trek home, an inexplicable exhaustion weighing down his steps.

he barely even registers that you don’t follow.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

“JUNG WOOYOUNG WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK IS WRONG WITH YOU?”

when he had returned home to an empty apartment, he felt like it was the only good thing that had happened to him in the last month, but then, as he sat in silence, calming his nerves and slowing his racing heart, his actions from the last half hour began to sink into his conscious. he knew his friends would find out what he had done sooner or later, but he certainly didn’t expect to find four of them bursting through his front door in a fury only minutes after he’d arrived.

hongjoong, always the voice of reason, had been the one to shout and announce their presence, his boyfriend, and wooyoung’s roommate, in tow. both men were visibly upset, although reasonably so, and if mingi didn’t have a gentle hold on seonghwa’s wrist wooyoung is sure the eldest would have tackled him to the ground by now.

“i knew you were an idiot but man,” yeosang says, bringing up the rear.

“so,” wooyoung tries, looking anywhere but his friends, “how was lunch?”

hongjoong takes a breath, likely trying to calm himself as he replies, “great, we even ran into a friend,” sarcasm heavy on each syllable.

“oh really?” wooyoung asks just above a whisper.

“yeah,” hongjoong nods harshly with an angry smile, “we would’ve invited them to join us had they not been FUCKING SOBBING,” he ends shouting.

“ah,” wooyoung tries, wishing the couch might just swallow him whole. “so you ran into y/n i’m guessing.” wooyoung lets out an awkward cough, releasing a humorless chuckle as he finally glanced back up at his friends.

“i’m going to ask this again,” hongjoong starts once more, taking several large breaths with his eyes closed to presumably calm himself. “what is wrong with you?”

“what did you do?” mingi takes a turn to speak up, releasing his hold on seonghwa who moves to run a soothing hand along his boyfriend’s back.

wooyoung can’t find the energy to recount the details of your entire encounter, and he also doesn’t feel like being berated for every little misstep he’d taken throughout your interaction, so he resolves to try summarizing the last half hour for the four men that are giving him some of the most expectant looks he’s probably ever seen. “we-uh,” he starts, as eloquently as usual, “we ran into each other and i may have cried and then i may have gotten angry and then i may have, uhm, madethemcry.” his last three words come out as one as he tries to get them out as quickly as possible, hating the way they taste rolling off his tongue.

and now, as the four men that had been listening so closely are thrown into a flurry once more by his statement, he begins to digest his own statement. he made you cry, and he’s sure if the room wasn’t filled with the voices of four of his friends arguing, the crack he feels in his heart would echo against the walls around him.

“i also told them i loved them,” wooyoung says again, barely above a whisper and yeosang is quick to shush the other three.

“you what?”

“i told them i loved them,” he repeats before quickly clarifying, “well it was more like i told them i wished i didn’t.”

and that set them all off again, each of his friends shouting over each other, and wooyoung just sunk into himself, the image of your tear stained cheeks at the front and center of his mind.

after what wooyoung might consider a pretty reasonable 15 minutes of being reminded how he has fucked up in pretty much every way possible, mingi was the first to calm down, always the one to move through his emotions quickly, and yeosang was soon to follow. seonghwa was the next to cool off, half way through a shouted sentence remembering the moment just a week ago in which he’d comforted wooyoung on the same couch he stood in front of now. hongjoong didn’t get the chance to simmer down, seonghwa pushing him to go home before he could pop a blood vessel.

“what are you thinking about?” yeosang asks, sitting himself next to wooyoung on the couch.

“how stupid i am,” wooyoung sighs, staring up at the ceiling.

yeosang sighs, placing a tentative but comforting hand on wooyoung’s bicep. “you’re not stupid,” yeosang says, “you’re just in love.”

wooyoung lolls his head to the side, getting a good view of his friend to see if he was joking, but all he found was sincerity, and a little pity, in the gentle smile on yeosang’s face.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

saturday

y/n: let’s break it off

woo: sure

sunday

y/n: hey, i just told yunho

y/n: just figured you should know

tuesday

y/n: can we talk?

wednesday

y/n: everything okay?

today

y/n: i really need to tell you something

that night wooyoung opens your chat and feels even worse about everything that happened today, but before he can tumble into a cycle of self pity once again, he feels his phone vibrate in his hand.

y/n: are you still going to the party tomorrow?

wooyoung practically tosses his phone in the air with the way he jumps up in surprise, fingers flying across the keyboard to respond. he types out and deletes his message at least five times before he hits send, debating if he should take this moment to apologize in fear that he won’t ever get the chance again. in the end he decides to just answer your question, straight and simple, not wanting to fuck up anything else.

woo: yeah

and in the minute he waits for a response he feels like his nerves are on fire, mentally berating himself for his answer. he should have apologized, or said something else, anything else. you probably wanted him to do more, address what happened earlier in the day, but of course he couldn’t even do that right. so wooyoung starts that spiral again, sinking into the depths of his own mind, until he feels his phone vibrate.

y/n: cool

y/n: i’ll see you there

wooyoung can barely sleep that night, either replaying his mistakes from the day or rehearsing the apology he had to give you at the party.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

yeosang had managed to rope wooyoung into helping with the set up at his and yunho’s apartment for the party, claiming it would help him to get his mind off of things, but as wooyoung knocks on his best friends door, he can feel the anxiety creeping up as he tries to think of a plan for if yunho were to open the door instead of yeosang. wooyoung is so lost in his nerves he doesn’t realize that yeosang has answered until the older man speaks.

“why are you shaking?” yeosang asks, confusion clear on his face as he opens the door wider for the quaking man in question to enter.

“uh, yunho,” is all wooyoung says, as he inspects the state of the apartment.

streamers and other miscellaneous decorations are thrown about the entrance area and living room, the beer pong table already set up in the corner farthest away from the hall to yeosang and yunho’s bedrooms, giving it the best view of the open concept living room and kitchen, and wooyoung tosses around the idea of mingi’s suggestion. he would certainly be able to see when you arrive so he can catch you before you lose yourself in the party tonight.

“oh, he and mingi went to pick up the stuff for drinks,” yeosang shrugs, “i thought mingi would have told you.”

wooyoung just shakes his head before yeosang starts instructing him on what he needs to do, placing the younger in charge of setting up the kitchen while yeosang gets everything hung up in the entrance and living areas.

for the first half hour, wooyoung does have to admit that he is more focused on decorating and organizing the snacks, making sure to leave room for drinks, than the apology he has perfected that had been swirling through his mind all day. he busies himself with which color balloon should be where and whether he should put the salty and sweet together or mix them up a bit so one side doesn’t get more crowded than the other, of which he decides to mix them together, instead of how he should open the conversation he’s dreading. of course as he finally starts managing to sink himself into his task all the way he hears a throat clear behind him.

expecting it to be yeosang who has some little complaint about the way wooyoung hung the streamers or how he should at least put the cookies all together he just says, “i don’t want to hear it.”

instead of one of yeosang’s usual quips wooyoung is surprised to hear a much deeper voice, laced with confusion. “what?”

wooyoung is quick to whip around, ending up face to face with, a slightly amused but mostly puzzled looking, yunho who has a bottle of tequila in one hand and some sort of mixer in the other, a few bags scattered on the floor near his feet.

“sorry,” wooyoung is quick to move, gesturing to the empty space on the counter. “thought you were yeosang,” wooyoung explains, stepping as far out of yunho’s way as he can.

yunho just chuckles lightly, as he sets the two bottles down, turning to wooyoung, “i figured.”

to wooyoung’s surprise yunho doesn’t move to unpack any more of the bags, instead leaning up against the counter and crossing his arms over his chest.

“he went out to grab another cord for the speakers,” yunho explains, “we always manage to loose one.”

wooyoung just nods slowly, his gaze flickering between the decorations still left to be used and the bags that still need to be unpacked, and just as wooyoung is about to move back to do one of those tasks, yunho speaks up again.

“y/n told me,” he says and wooyoung freezes completely, feeling his heart plummet into his feet. he prepares himself for any of the rage that yunho might be about to throw his way, even trying to mentally steel himself for the way yunho will surely laugh at him for telling you that he loved you. how could his love compare to that which is reciprocated by someone you actually wanted.

“i still mean what i said,” yunho continues and wooyoung dares to glance at his friend. “i think you two would be good together.”

now it’s wooyoung’s turn to be puzzled. for a moment he wonders if yunho is sick at all because he certainly wouldn’t tell another guy, especially one that made his crush cry, that they would be good together but with the way yunho doesn’t react to wooyoung’s confusion wooyoung fears that maybe the sleep deprivation has finally caught up to him.

“i know that it was supposed to be all pretend but i don’t think you were lying when i asked you if you loved them,” yunho continues and wooyoung shakes his head like it will clear out his thoughts. “you’re a pretty open book.”

wooyoung decides he might as well bite the bullet and asks, “what did they tell you?”

“that it was fake,” yunho replies easily, “the situationship.”

wooyoung wishes that his answer cleared anything up but instead it only leaves him feeling more lost. does yunho like you? does he know about yesterday? do you still like yunho? wasn’t the end of the plan the party? that had to mean that you ended the plan early, did it not work out?

“i hope it works out for you,” yunho concludes, leaving wooyoung to stand mindlessly in the middle of the kitchen as the older man goes about setting up the drinks.

“thanks,” is all wooyoung can say in response and suddenly the party can’t start soon enough.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

when it’s half an hour past go time and you still haven’t arrived, he’s tempted to text you but he decides against it when he realizes he’s not sure what he would even say. mingi had been reassuring him that it was fine, turning to say so every time he would score in the game of beer pong he and a friend of a friend were playing, he thinks she introduced herself as yuri or yeji or something that started with a y but it’s hard for him to remember when his mind has been stuck on you for the last hour now.

“i told you they were pregaming at san’s so you know it’s gonna take them forever,” mingi says before downing the cup in his hand, the girl across the table high-fiving her friend excitedly. “plus i’m pretty sure they were going to wait for jongho to get off work and swing by his place to grab him.”

wooyoung just nods quickly, feeling more uncomfortable by the second. he had decided to forgo drinking until you arrived, wanting to be sober when he talked to you but the longer he waited the more he was regretting that decision, the soda he’d been nursing for the last half hour going flat as it swished around his cup.

before he can start to overthink it, he leans in next to mingi’s ear, not wanting to yell over the music. “i’m gonna grab a drink,” he says, not waiting for his friend’s response before he’s pushing through the crowd of people dancing, making his way to the kitchen.

“they here yet?” yeosang asks as soon as he spots wooyoung entering the kitchen, simultaneously handing an obviously tipsy seonghwa another drink.

“no,” wooyoung responds quickly, tossing the liquid in his cup into the sink before reaching for one of the bottles of soju on the counter.

seonghwa lets out a high pitched giggle, not hiding that it’s at wooyoung’s expense as the younger whips his head to stare daggers at his senior. “don’t you have a hongjoong to be hanging off of?” wooyoung spits and the phrase receives the reaction he’d intended, seonghwa quick to let out a squeaky “joongie!” before making his way back into the clump of bodies wooyoung had just emerged from.

as he watches his oldest friend disappear into the crowd, yeosang following suit, wooyoung catches mingi’s gaze, eyes wide as he ticks his chin in the direction of the front door, and he knows what it means immediately.

you’re here.

he can see the top of your head slowly moving into the center of the crowd, presumably being pulled by none other than choi san, who wooyoung can see is already flushed when the crowd moves and he can catch glimpses of you both dancing together, a bright smile displayed on your face as you laugh at san. he wants to go to you but he feels like his feet are suddenly too heavy, unable to do anything but watch from a distance.

“just the man i was looking for,” jongho says, clapping wooyoung on the back harshly, and successfully pulling him out of the trance you’d put him in.

“why?” wooyoung whines before he turns to jongho, seeing the smile that only his younger friend could lace with a scary sort of anger and wooyoung’s blood runs cold.

“y/n was just telling me about the interesting conversation you two had yesterday,” jongho says, his hand moving from wooyoung’s back up to his shoulder and squeezing harshly. wooyoung resists the urge to yell and instead tries to push the younger’s hand away, ducking under his arm to try and escape.

“i’m going to apologize,” wooyoung is quick to explain, now facing jongho head on in hopes to stop any more of his friend’s attacks.

jongho just drops his smile, muttering a quick, “i hope so,” before he moves past wooyoung and toward the drinks.

once wooyoung is sure he’s no longer in danger of being on the wrong side of jongho’s anger he quickly turns back to the crowd, scanning quickly for you or san. he spots san easy enough, having moved his dancing from the floor up onto the couch that had been pushed up against one of the walls. unfortunately you’re no longer with him and so wooyoung continues his search once more, although it’s starting to prove difficult as he realizes that more people must have arrived during his quick exchange with jongho, the living room packed almost wall to wall.

“who are we looking for?”

wooyoung almost jumps three feet in the air as your voice registers so clearly, your mouth centimeters away from his ear so that you can speak without straining over the music. he places a hand firmly against his chest as he tries to calm his racing heart but when he turns to you he knows the attempt is futile.

“can we talk?” wooyoung eventually manages out between staggered breaths, yelling over the music instead of opting to get closer to you, fearing that he might overstep some sort of boundary if he were to be inside of your personal space.

you only nod in response before you grab his wrist, and wooyoung barely registers where you’re pulling him off to as he focuses on the way your fingertips press into his skin. only once you’ve closed the door behind you two, successfully muffling the music and voices enough to converse without shouting, do you release his arm and he recognizes the room as his best friend’s.

you make no effort to move away from wooyoung once you’ve succeeded in locking the door behind him, ignoring the many extra feet of space that you could place between you both, and wooyoung isn’t sure if he’s overthinking but he would like to assume it’s a good sign.

“i was looking for you,” wooyoung answers your question from earlier, feeling like his mouth is much too dry before he remembers he’s been holding a cup in his hand since you’d arrived and takes the smallest swig of the liquid inside. he notices you aren’t holding a drink and debates about offering a sip of his own to you before ultimately deciding to just set it down on yeosang’s desk, leaning awkwardly to the side in order to reach.

“why?” you ask and wooyoung loses his balance for a moment, falling into you slowly before his feet find better support. if he hadn’t felt hot enough with embarrassment just from starting to fall in front of you, he’s now overheating when he realizes you’d placed a hand on his chest to keep him from completely falling onto you, your palm feeling as though it might burn a hole through his shirt.

he clears his throat nervously as you retract your hand and he misses the searing heat of your skin almost immediately, itching to just grab your wrist and place your hand back. but he doesn’t, because he respects you too much. he loves you too much.

“to apologize,” he finally admits, feeling the heat you’d gifted him moving up from his chest to his cheeks. “i-“ he tries to breath, to remember the apology he’d been practicing in his mind, but it’s so much harder when you’re actually in front of him. your eyes, just as they had in the cafe before his outburst, make him feel exposed, sensitive. “i’m sorry for getting mad at you, i shouldn’t have said what i did,” he’s able to continue, trying hard to return your gaze so that you may be able to spot the sincerity in this apology just as you had his last. “i didn’t mean those things. i was,” he pauses, knowing this is the point in which he could still turn around, pretend that he wasn’t upset for the reasons he was, and so he pushes through anyway. “i was angry at myself and you were just who i could take it out on. you didn’t deserve that, i’m sorry.”

he searches your face for any change, desperate to see your usual expression replace the frown you sported and smooth out the current crease between your brows, and when your face doesn’t change he’s once again tempted to reach out to you. he wants to just take your face into his hands, to gently message the tension from your temples and to place a gentle peck to the tip of your nose in hopes that he might get to see your smile up close once more before you might just vanish from his life forever.

but instead he keeps his hands firmly at his sides and says, “i wish i could take it all back.”

“all of it?” you ask quickly, your voice practically overlapping his own, and your expression does shift but wooyoung can’t make out the difference.

neither of you speak then for what feels like an hour, your eyes determinedly set on his while you let wooyoung’s gaze flit along your face, trying to find his answer amongst your features, before he closes his eyes with a wobbly sigh.

“i don’t want to stop loving you,” he says, eyes still closed, “but i have to.”

he can feel his chest caving in, the emptiness he’d started calling home consuming him from the inside out as he finally says what he’d been teetering on the edge of admitting for the last month.

“who told you that?” you question and if wooyoung could bare to open his eyes and actually look at you instead of finding cowardly safety behind his eyelids he is sure you would be wearing the same look of frustration he’s seen directed at him so many times before. although now he knows that it doesn’t carry the same playfulness that usually makes him so endeared, the sparkle in your eye that encourages him to bring out that same look more and more.

wooyoung lets out a humorless chuckle, shoulders dropping heavily as he becomes hyper aware of the way he’s been tensing his entire body. “no one,” he says before scrunching up his face in hopes that it will quiet the urge for him to open his eyes and see your face once more. “everyone.”

he hears you let out a huff before you comment, almost indignantly, “well i didn’t get a say.”

wooyoung can’t recall a time he’s opened his eyes faster, tenderness quickly replacing the shock he’d felt when he sees you once more, your gaze now firmly set on the cup wooyoung had placed on yeosang’s desk and arms crossed over your chest, a pout on your lips. he feels the corners of his own lips ticking up in a fond smile.

“so,” he begins to ask, a hint of playfulness coloring his tone as he feels hope build inside of him, “what do you think i should do?”

he’s not sure if you were expecting his eyes to still be closed but as you bring your gaze back to wooyoung’s face he feels like he can easily spot a hint of nervousness beneath your determined expression. you both find yourself in silence once more, this time he’s the one to hold firm, your gaze now traveling along his skin.

“i love you.”

he’s sure if he was any farther from you that he wouldn’t have been able to hear it, the words flowing along an exhale.

“what was that?” he asks, unable to contain the smile that overtakes his features, and he half expects for you to take it back playfully, to mess around with him, but then he watches as a determined smirk creeps onto your face.

“i said,” you start, leaning impossibly closer and placing your hand onto the same spot on his chest as you had earlier. “i love you.”

your lips are on his in an instant, almost imperceptible, the gentlest brush of skin, but wooyoung can feel it.

“i love you too,” he whispers against your lips before one of his hands moves to the back of your neck, the other wrapping around your wrist as he pulls you back into him.

of all the times he’d imagined kissing you, it was nothing like he expected, your lips remaining gentle against his no matter how passionate he became, and wooyoung knew instantly that he was already addicted. he was so utterly consumed by you, and he wouldn’t have it any other way.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

“your drink, my love,” wooyoung says, placing a cup down on the table as he takes the seat next to you, his own coffee in his hands, while he places a gentle kiss against your temple.

“gross,” yeosang comments, watching you both from across the table before taking another bite of his macaron.

“yeah,” hongjoong agrees from his seat on your other side. “i didn’t realize that you two getting together meant we would have to watch you both all over each other all the damn time,” he complains as his boyfriend rolls his eyes on the other side of the table.

wooyoung ignores his older friends in favor of grabbing one of the legs of your chair, pulling you toward him so that he can more easily rest his head against your shoulder. he smirks against your skin as he feels a shudder run down your spine when he turns his head to press his lips into the crook of your neck.

you and wooyoung are gathered with a few of your friends in the same cafe that set everything into motion, your favorite place, enjoying your first quiet afternoon as an official couple.

“come on, i think they’re cute,” mingi says, looking between yeosang and hongjoong, who both exchange disgusted looks.

you chuckle, the sound light and airy, making wooyoung’s heart float as he feels the vibrations through his own chest.

“thank you mingi,” you say with a hint of finality, ready for the attention to be away from you two.

you’re thankful that the conversation drifts into a new direction, yeosang mentioning something about the latest star wars movie and sending seonghwa into a spiral about his thoughts and opinions.

“thank you,” wooyoung whispers, lifting his head from your shoulder before resting it on his hand, his elbow propped on the table in front of you.

you send him a confused look, tilting your head gently, but with the way he stares at you, overwhelmed with devotion, you can’t keep a tender smile from gracing your features. “for what?”

“forgiving me,” he elaborates, taking your hand in his.

for a minute you simply bask in the genuine warmth of the moment, watching the way his gaze shifts to your hand as he starts to play with your fingers gently. you’re tempted to bring his own hand up to your lips and let the whole situation stay genuine, but you just can’t keep from teasing.

“who says i forgave you?”

wooyoung is quick to look back up at your face, eyes wide with worry as he lifts his head from his hand, now using both of his hands to hold one of yours. you watch the worry melt away as a pout takes over his features, seeing the playful smirk on your own.

you can hear the whine building in his throat before he even opens his mouth, your gentle giggles matching his volume. “babe,” he groans, dropping his shoulders as he pulls your hand against his chest.

once you’ve calmed down enough from your giggle fit, you reach the hand he’s not holding up to hold his face, watching with adoration as he turns his head to press his lips into your palm before he leans fully into your touch.

as you both sit, just savoring the moment, wooyoung can’t help but reflect on how you both ended up here. so, as he falls deeper into his romantic haze, he can’t help but let you know, “i love to love you.”

↼ ateez masterlist

note so hi, i’m alive. this was just something i wrote for fun recently and now i guess i write for ateez. anyway, hope you enjoyed

let me know what you think?

ateez as romantic tropes

⇀ genre fluff, angst, comedy

⇀ style blurbs

⇀ wc listed per member (between 1.1k and 2.2k)

⇀ warnings all readers are gender neutral, listed per member

⇀ reactions from the gc “Yep mhm would def swoon over him yes mhm yep” “BRUH I give you all of your content for free” “I need Yunho to help me obliterate my kitchen cabinets” “Losing my mf mind over him”

note word count variation does not reflect any preference for specific members, some stories just felt like they needed more backstory or had more action

home for the holidays

⇀ pairing hs crush!seonghwa x hs crush!reader

⇀ wc 1.5k

⇀ warnings mentions of food

“seonghwa! come in!” his mother greeted him at the door of his childhood home, ushering him inside quickly before enveloping him in a warm hug.

she bombarded him with questions about his life in seoul, what he’d been eating, how he’d been sleeping, as he removed his shoes. he tried to keep up with all of her fussing as he dragged his suitcase down the hall and into his bedroom but he could barely get out more than a few words before she was moving onto her next thought.

“anyway, your father went out to pick up some tofu so i could make you sundubu-jjigae,” she explains before she’s cut off by the sound of the doorbell and the kitchen timer going off simultaneously.

“i‘ll get the door,” seonghwa volunteers before his mother can say anything else, and pads back to where he had been only moments prior.

he’s not exactly sure what he expected on the other side of the door, especially so late in the evening, but he thinks he might be able to feel every nerve ending on his body alight when he opens the door to find you.

you look both severely different and exactly the same as when he’d last seen you, minus the lack of your high school’s blue uniform. of course you’ve changed your hair, your style seems to have improved as well, but mostly you just look more mature, more you, if that’s possible.

“oh, seonghwa,” you chirp, your surprise evident on your face, “i didn’t know you were back.”

“i didn’t know you were still in town,” he counters, his expression mirroring your own.

you don’t say anything, simply trying to process that the boy you’d had a crush on in high school had become, well, a man. he was considerably more attractive than he had been years ago, if that was even possible, and he almost seemed to hold himself with more confidence even if he was just standing in the middle of the entryway of his childhood home. you try to urge your mind to stay in the present but it can’t help but dig up your old memories of high school seonghwa and all the reasons you should have told him you liked him back then.

when you don’t say anything, seonghwa speaks up, asking, “is there something i can do for you?”

you suddenly are remembering your mission and the tote bag that’s weighing down your shoulder, housing the reason you’ve been coming to his parents house for the past few months.

“right!” you say, taking one of the containers out of your bag and presenting it to seonghwa. “this is for your mom.”

just as you mention her, seonghwa can hear his mom shuffling down the hall behind him, her slippers slapping against the wood floor to announce her coming.

“y/n is that you?” she says once she’s right behind her son. “well don’t make them stand outside,” she scolds seonghwa, gesturing for him to move so that you can step past the threshold.

“hi mrs park,” you greet his mother with a bow, still holding the container in your hands as you trade your outside shoes for the guest slippers.

“you shouldn’t be walking this late by yourself dear,” she scolds gently before heading back to the kitchen, you pittering after her lightly.

for a moment seonghwa stands in shock, doorknob still clutched in his hand and gears turning in his head. since when had you become friends with his mom? and since when did you start knowing which ones were the guest slippers? and since when had he started to miss you?

“and i wanted to get it to you while it was fresh.”

seonghwa joins you both in the kitchen and catches the tail end of your statement, presumably an explanation as to why you’re walking to his house so late.

“it would have been perfectly fine tomorrow,” his mother only replies, removing the lid from the container you’d given her and revealing a loaf of, what looked to be, homemade bread.

“it’s a cinnamon milk bread,” you say and seonghwa turns to see you looking at him. he doesn’t say anything in response and you simply smile, turning back to his mother after just a moment. his mind is still reeling as he watches you, stood casually in the kitchen as though you belong here. you hold none of the awkwardness that normally is present when someone visits another’s home for the first time and some little voice in the back of his mind tells him that it feels domestic. of course, he tries to push that thought away.

“here,” his mother says after she’s transferred the bread into her own container and returned yours, “you should stay for dinner. i’m making sundubu-jjigae.”

you shake your head, a slight look of hesitation on your face and seonghwa assumes that you’ve probably stayed for dinner plenty when he was gone. “that sounds delicious but i should be getting back. i have another loaf cooling on my counter that i need to pack up,” you explain.

“well at least have seonghwa walk you back,” she suggests, and you’re obviously about to decline, based on your body language, when seonghwa insists.

you agree then, not putting up much of a fight once you know his mother isn’t forcing him for her own satisfaction, making your way back out and beginning a steady trek back to your own house.

“how’s seoul?” you ask after a beat, not wanting to walk in awkward silence the entire way.

“it’s nice,” he says simply before adding, “busy.”

you nod in understanding. “i’m sure.”

“how are you?” he asks.

as you turn to look at him again, your eyes crinkling slightly as you grin, he feels like he’s never left his hometown. he’s still sat in his desk at school watching you laugh with your friends across the room during lunch. you would always notice him staring, turning and presenting him the same warm smile you give him now.

he realizes in this moment that he wishes he’d told you, all those years ago, about what his friends always teased him for, about how much he liked you, because now it’s manifested into a gentle ache that seems to pull him back, to that time and to you. he guesses there’s a reason that people say distance makes the heart grow fonder.

you notice the expression on his face, the same one he wore in high school when he was deep in thought. not one that would appear during a test or when studying but one that would show when he was debating with his friends or talking about his future.

“what are you thinking about?” you ask to break the silence, genuine curiosity sparkling behind your eyes.

“hmmm nothing i guess,” he tries to play it off but you give him a suspicious look. “school,” he tries again, being broad about his approach.

“i guess that is the last time we saw each other,” you say and he wonders if you remember it all as clearly as him.

you toss around the idea of admitting what you never had to anyone before and maybe it’s something in the comfort of the night air or just the way seonghwa’s eyes are so focused on you but you decide that if you never say anything now you’ll surely regret it.

“you know,” you continue after another moment of silence, “i had a crush on you in high school.”

seonghwa feels his heart stop for a moment, his entire body consumed by a warmth that’s surely tinged his skin red as he tries to remember how to breath and walk at the same time.

“really?” he huffs, hoping you don’t notice how wobbly his steps have gotten.

“yeah, i don’t know, you were just really sweet and cute,” you elaborate and seonghwa can’t tell if he wants you to stop talking or continue, your voice starting to overlap with his heartbeat in his ears.

he’s so distracted trying to control himself, he almost doesn’t notice when you’ve stopped in front of your house. he certainly doesn’t notice the sly smile that’s stretched across your face, indicating that you’ve clearly observed his reaction to your news.

“how long are you going to be in town?” you ask, fiddling with the strap of your tote bag and urging your heart to stop beating up against your rib cage.

“just two weeks,” he manages to say in between deep breaths to calm his own pulse, eyes wide and lips parted slightly.

“well, let me know if you’re free at any point,” you say, preparing to take the final leap. “we can get coffee or something.”

he nods as you turn to walk toward your door and seonghwa, for the first time, feels his mouth moving before he can stop it.

“what about dinner? tomorrow?”

you turn back, smile beautifully complimenting the blush on your cheeks, and nod.

“see you then.”

foreigner

⇀ pairing white knight!hongjoong x traveler!reader

⇀ wc 1.1k

⇀ warnings implied panic attack/crying in public, street harassment, creepy middle aged guy

note i always find random hangul in fics annoying but for this you don’t need to understand what he’s saying because the whole point is you don’t

of course you would manage to get lost in the biggest city in korea on your first day of your month long trip. you’d planned for almost everything, except, of course, navigating through the intricate seoul subway system. to be fair, your friend joomi had promised to pick you up from the airport before she’d been called in on a work emergency. you had assured her that you could find your way to her apartment on your own but now, as you stood on the wrong side of the platform, watching yet another train, that would have taken you toward your destination, leave, you’re not so sure anymore.

you huff in frustration, the wheels on your suitcase clicking against the tiles as you try to find an empty bench, hoping that you can maybe collect your thoughts before you start to feel the familiar sting of tears behind your eyes. you try not to think of how you might look right now, stale from your flight, sweaty from running between trains, and slightly pathetic from being overwhelmed by something everyone else seems to have mastered.

you quickly abandon your bench search as your phone tells you how long you would have to wait for the next train and you weigh the worth of spending an hour and a half sitting in the stuffy station or dragging your suitcase around the street above, settling on trying to maybe just find a convenience store or some place to grab a coffee.

luckily the area you’re stranded doesn’t seem too crowded, the streets easy to navigate without having to serpentine between people with your month worth of luggage. you find a semi empty convenience store pretty easy enough, paying for a couple snacks, an ice cup, and a drink with ease, conscious of the way the other people in the shop are doing double takes at you, likely due to your suitcase and the duffle on your shoulder.

you’ve never been more grateful to korean convenience stores and their included seating as right now, able to finally take a breath as you sit with your food.

as you try to mind your business, texting joomi to update her about where you are and the predicament you’re in, you can almost feel a burning gaze coming from one of the tables diagonal your own. you try to ignore it, as you did with the gazes earlier, but it feels different, somehow predatory.

“이봐, 너는 어디서 왔니?”

you look up to see a man, probably in his late 50s, starring intensely at you, confirming your suspicions about his watching you.

when you don’t respond, he says something else in korean, something you can’t understand with your limited knowledge of the language, and you try not to panic, but as he stands, seemingly trying to make his way over to you, you feel your heartbeat skyrocketing.

“i don’t-“ you start, gripping your phone tightly as you flounder for what to do.

the man takes another step toward you, saying something else that you can only assume isn’t nice from the way he seems to snarl it and reaching out to grab the handle of your suitcase that you’d placed behind the chair across from you but before he can take hold of your bag it’s being pulled away by a different man, someone who looks to be around your own age.

he addresses the older man with a forced smile, obviously angered at the situation and you try to interpret what is happening before you. you can’t understand a word either man is saying, trying too hard to just process the situation you’re in, but eventually the older man leaves, your savior watching intently to make sure he’s really gone before turning to you.

“you, uh, speak english?” he asks, finally rolling your suitcase back to where you’d originally placed it, although you assume it’s more of a courtesy question as he’d probably heard your unsettled words when trying to address the other man.

you nod, a gentle “yes” escaping you as you try to parse what this new man wants from you.

“are you okay?” he asks gently.

you try to search his eyes for any sense of danger but all you can see is worry.

“i’m fine,” you say with a little more certainty than before.

“good,” he says with a slight sigh, his shoulders visibly relaxing. he looks between you and your suitcase once before speaking up again. “what are you doing here?”

you take a moment to decide whether to tell him or not but you assume if he had wanted to harm you that he wouldn’t have stepped in to help you before, and so you tell him, “i’m waiting for a train, it doesn’t come for another hour.”

he nods in understanding.

“what’s your name?” you feel yourself ask before you register what you’re actually doing.

“ah, my name is hongjoong,” he replies.

all of his words are slow, deliberate, as he speaks to you, a contrast to how quickly he was talking in korean only moments ago.

you try to slow down your own words as you ask, “how do you know english?”

he seems to almost perk up at that, interested to tell you, “oh, i’m learning right now. sorry if my grammar is bad.”

you shake your head quickly, “no, no. you’re fine. i’m just glad i have someone to talk to.”

he hums in understanding before asking, “what is your name?”

you introduce yourself, even spelling out your name for him, before you notice the plastic bag in his hands.

“oh, would you like to,” you trail off, gesturing to the seat across from you in invitation.

he seems hesitant and you almost want to take back your offer before he says, “you are sure?”

you nod with a gentle smile and he mirrors your expression, helping you move your duffle onto the ground beneath your table and taking a seat across from you.

you talk casually with hongjoong for the rest of your wait, letting him give you a list of things you should try to do with your time in seoul.

“isn’t the han river more of a date spot?” you question as he collects both of your trash into his plastic bag.

“you could take your partner,” he says, glancing at you and you know he’s trying to gauge your reaction as his ears tint pink.

“oh!” you quip, your own face blooming with warmth. “uhm no, i don’t have a boyfriend or anything,” you rush to say, flicking your gaze between the table and the floor.

“then, what if we went?” hongjoong practically whispers and your eyes shoot up to his face, his now as red as yours.

boy next door

⇀ paring mechanic!yunho x house flipper!reader

⇀ wc 1.5k

⇀ warnings mentions of food, eating, suggestive, allusions to sex, recent breakup, mentions of a cheating ex, imagining hitting said cheating ex

maybe you should have listened to your friends that told you flipping a house all by yourself was a bit ambitious, but they should have known telling you that would only make you want to do it more. your family might have called you stubborn but you liked to frame it as strong-willed. so here you sat, covered in streaks of paint as you ate your lunch on the floor of a kitchen that was still wholly unusable while the fresh varnish on the living room walls started to dry.

you had yet to buy any furniture, an air mattress your only comfort at night, after selling everything from your apartment in the city. all of it was stained by memories of your ex, moments you’d shared together before he’d told you he’d been seeing someone else behind your back for months.

it’s fine, you could use a change of scenery anyway.

the suburbs were treating you well so far, the neighbor on your right a little old lady, ms. lee, that housed and cared for the feral cats in the area who had given you the most delicious treats she made herself as a house warming gift. you’d expected your other neighbor to be similar, or maybe a little family like most suburbs attracted, but what you had experienced yesterday was far from family friendly.

you’d come back from the hardware store around noon, buckets of paint weighing you down as you made your way up the driveway. you had spotted your neighbor’s garage door open and a shiny, certainly vintage, black car peaking out from inside. however, what you hadn’t noticed when sat in your own car, but were certainly aware of now that you could see inside perfectly, was a man, clad in a black tank top and track pants, leaning into the open hood of the black car.

you weren’t the type that normally stared at people, preferring to mind your business in most public spaces, but how could you not when a man built like a greek god, skin glowing from his efforts, was grunting in frustration as his arms flexed to adjust something in the depths of the vehicle, muscles defined so clearly as he fixed whatever was wrong. you tried not to think about how long it had been since you’d last gotten intimate with anyone, your ex seemingly uninterested every time you had tried to initiate anything for such a long time that you were surely only projecting your frustrations onto the poor man in front of you.

“hey! you must be the new neighbor.”

oh no, how long had you been staring.

“oh! yeah, i just moved in.”

although he had to have noticed you checking him out, he didn’t say anything about your ogling, a warm smile adorning his handsome face instead of the disgusted snarl you were prepared for.

“you’re fixing her up all by yourself?” he asks with a tick of his chin toward your house and you’re guessing he’d talked to ms. lee after she visited you.

“that’s the plan,” you nod with a chuckle, still feeling awkward from having been caught gawking at your new hot neighbor.

“my name’s yunho,” he introduces, cleaning a spot of grease off his hands with a rag before tossing it over his shoulder gently. “i’m not particularly known for my design skills but, if you ever need someone to hammer a nail or lift something heavy, feel free to ring my bell.”

you tried not to think of the double meaning of that last phrase, begging your mind to climb out of the gutter, and assured him you would before trying not to trip over your own feet on the way up to your front door.

and so your lunch break was spent thinking about the hot guy next door and how you could manage to avoid him for the rest of your life in order to steer clear of embarrassing yourself any further. of course, you could never expect for your life to go as planned.

the next week you’ve moved your focus into the kitchen, starting with the god awful cabinets that were certainly installed without a thought to the house’s time period or even functionality. although it was physically strenuous, taking a hammer to the cheap wood of those horrible cabinets was certainly helping you release some of the anger that had been simmering since the breakup. Maybe you should have printed out a picture of your ex’s face and taped it inside.

you were so focused, and making a pretty loud ruckus, that you almost didn’t hear the sound of your doorbell ringing. trying to think of who could possibly be interested in visiting you at 3 pm on a tuesday, you made your way to your front door, leaving your hammer in the kitchen but keeping your gloves on. you would have looked through the peephole of your door to determine if it was worth opening but of course the last owner of the property felt that a peephole wasn’t necessary. although, as you open the door to your neighbor, the hottie not the lady, you’re not sure a peephole would have changed your mind.

he’s in a simple outfit today, just a white t-shirt and dark jeans, but you still have to resist giving him a full glance up and down. his hair is slightly damp and based on the way you can clearly smell his smoky vanilla shampoo you can guess he’s just had a shower.

“hi,” you greet, trying not to think of the way you’re certainly looking and smelling like you’ve been dunked in a pool of your own sweat, your house currently without air conditioning and it being late spring.

“hey,” he says, the same warm smile making a reappearance as he stands on your porch.

he doesn’t say anything else and you almost wonder if maybe the heat is starting to get to you. could this be a dehydration induced hallucination?

“can i help you?” you ask after feeling like you’ve been making enough awkward eye contact, although yunho’s smile hasn’t budged.

“right!” he chirps, as though remembering what he’s doing. “i just wanted to make sure you weren’t dead or anything. i heard a lot of things breaking and some yelling, so just wanted to make sure you’re alive.” he nods, his hair bouncing slightly and for a moment he really looks like a big puppy, eyes expectant and big as he waits for you to say something.

“oh, sorry,” you apologize, not even aware that you had been yelling but to be fair, you had been really sucked into the vision of getting to hit your ex with a hammer and make him as broken as you’d felt. “i was just taking out some anger on the old kitchen cabinets.”

he cocks his head to the side and again you find your mind drawing up another comparison to a puppy. you wonder if anyone’s ever told him that before.

“you’re taking out the cabinets?” he asks, almost seeming worried and you raise a brow.

“yeah,” you say, trying not to sound defensive and hoping he doesn’t have some sort of secret attachment to the fixtures. “they don’t fit the house and they barely functioned before.”

he shakes his head at your clarification and now it’s your own turn to tilt your head in confusion.

“you’re doing that by yourself? i thought i said you could ask for my help with heavy lifting,” he explains his worry and you don’t get a chance to respond before he’s starting to walk back to his house. “i’m gonna grab some gloves and another hammer,” he calls from your yard as you watch him go. “i’ll be right back.”

so you spent the afternoon destroying your kitchen with the neighbor you had vowed to stay away from only a few days before. to your credit, you did try to refuse his help, insisting that you could do it and telling him about the lack of a/c, but of course he stood firm, pointing out that he’d already made the effort to grab his own gloves and tools. maybe you’d met your match in terms of stubbornness.

“thank you,” you’d said with sincerity as you both sat on the floor of your now bare kitchen, open pizza box between you that you were regretting letting him pay for but, again, he had insisted. “there’s gotta be some way i can pay you back,” you said as you took another bite of your slice, eyes looking at the man across from you expectantly.

“well, i can think of one way,” he says, placing his half eaten slice on his plate and brushing off his hands.

you perk up at this, eager to know what you can do to make sure he knows how appreciative you are.

“let me take you out to dinner,” he suggests and you’re glad that you’re already sitting or your knees might have buckled and forced you to sit anyway.

opposites attract

⇀ paring hydrophobic!yeosang x lifeguard!reader

⇀ wc 2.2k

⇀ warnings slightly suggestive, he’s not literally hydrophobic he’s just a hater, mention of drowning, drinking alcohol (not you)

yeosang has spent every summer since he could remember avoiding the one place his friends had managed to finally persuade him into visiting, the local water park.

now it’s not that he was deathly afraid of being in the water, in fact his parents told him that he used to love swimming as a toddler, but he just didn’t see the appeal of anything that swimming and pools had to offer. the hot ass sun forcing you to reapply sunscreen every few hours, the screaming children that would make your head pound, the gross water that had surely seen every bodily fluid, and, worst of all, the annoying ass lifeguards that yeosang just knew were judging everyone with their hypercritical stares.

“you need some vitamin d,” wooyoung says, rubbing in the sunscreen he’d just put onto his arms until the cream had become sheer. “you can’t just sit in front of your computer every day.”

yeosang scowls as his best friend passes him the sunscreen, hesitantly squeezing some of it onto his legs.

“especially if you’re trying to get back into dating,” san adds as he removes his shirt, tossing it onto the picnic table the group had claimed.

“who’s dating?” yunho asked as he joined the group, setting his bag down and pushing his sunglasses up to sit on top of his head, ready to apply sunscreen onto his face when yeosang passed the bottle to him.

“yeosang,” wooyoung says as he shoves his flip flops off, leaving them where they lay and stretching his arms above his head.

“you’re dating someone?” yunho questions, eyebrows scrunched in confusion.

“not yet,” san answers for him just as yeosang opens his mouth and he gives san an annoyed look.

“hey boys!”

suddenly, all three of yeosang’s friends are lighting up as they turn toward the source of the voice unfamiliar to him. each of them perks up as they return the greeting of the stranger, a lifeguard that was headed in the direction of yeosang and his friends.

“y/n!” san calls your name excitedly as you approach, stopping just outside of the shadow from the umbrella attached to the table.

“i didn’t know you were working today,” yunho says, finishing up his sunscreen application as he smiles brightly at you.

yeosang tries not to let his nerves show on his face as his eyes flick between you and his friends, always a little on edge when meeting new people but especially when that new person is particularly attractive. you’re wearing what he assumes is the typical uniform, a pair of short red swim trunks that show off your legs and a tight white tank top that leaves little to the imagination. he tries to resist the urge to let his eyes roam over the skin that’s exposed by your uniform, glowing from the summer sun, and instead he focuses on your face, shaded by the red visor you wear but expression as bright as though you’re channeling the beams from the sky above you. yeosang is tempted to bask in their warmth as your gaze flicks over to him but instead he looks away, trying to look busy as he rummages through his bag for nothing.

“sua called off today,” you explain, “so here i am.” you shrug as you gesture around yourself.

“oh, this is yeosang,” san speaks up with a harsh slap to his friends shoulder and yeosang flinches away from the touch before shoving san’s hand off.

“yeosang, this is y/n,” wooyoung provides, sliding toward you, “our favorite lifeguard.”

at his statement you reach up to pinch at wooyoung’s cheek, giving it a little shake as you let out a coo, “aw. i would say you’re my favorite patrons but i’m not in the habit of lying.” you chuckle lightly as wooyoung swats your hand away from his face with a pout.

“nice to meet you yeosang,” you greet him easily, nodding slightly and he’s thankful you didn’t reach out to shake his hand.

“you too,” he lies, not at all happy to meet someone who chooses to torture themselves out in the heat as a job.

“okay, well i’ve got to continue making my rounds, just wanted to say hi,” you explain as you back away from the group, headed back on the main path next to the pool you’re all closest to. “if you guys are staying for night swim i’m gonna be stationed at the wave pool so feel free to come chat.”

night swim, the only reason yeosang agreed to come. the local park had an adult only, alcohol provided, swim night that they hosted every other week. they would close down the more dangerous parts of the park, like the deep ends of the pools and the giant water slides, and just let people chill out in things like the wave pool and even go on the kiddie slides.

yeosang had agreed for the alcohol and the offer to be able to sit at the edge of the pool while his friends enjoyed trying not to drown as they wrested in the water. unfortunately he was not aware he would be dragged to the park while the sun was still out or when his friends were going to be chatting up the cute lifeguard the whole time, and he is an adult so he can admit you’re cute.

“you good?” yunho asks, noticing yeosang staring after you. the latter hadn’t even noticed he’d been looking straight at your butt as you retreated until his friend snapped him from his thoughts and he hoped he could blame the redness on his cheeks being the summer heat.

“yeah, yeah,” yeosang nodded finally pulling his arm out of his bag as he tried to anticipate what the group was about to pressure him to do.

he really did try to fight to just stay under the umbrella until the sun set but of course wooyoung needed him to go down the slides with him before they closed for the night and yunho had to show him the lazy river before it would be crowded with other drunk people and san demanded to go off the diving boards together before the deep end was off limits. so, because yeosang is a good friend, and his friends were extremely annoying when they whined, he did all of it. he honestly wasn’t as upset about the situation as he thought he might be, even finding himself sometimes enjoying the whole affair, but he would never admit that, he had a reputation to uphold.

lucky for yeosang and his reputation, the afternoon went by quickly and families with their sticky children trickled out as the sun set behind the horizon, initiating the start of night swim. of course as soon as he and his friends had finished their first drink and started sipping on their second yunho was quick to remind them about you over at the wave pool.

“i think i’m just gonna go back to the lazy river,” yeosang said with a jerk of his thumb toward the stack of intertubes behind himself.

“what why?” san asks, slipping his towel back off his shoulders.

“the lazy river is packed,” yunho adds, eyebrows scrunched as he looks over at it before turning to look at the wave pool that’s comparably more deserted.

wooyoung on the other hand has been paying a little too much attention to his best friend, noticing how yeosang’s eyes would flit over to you whenever you passed them during the day, and his lips curl up into the smile he always wears when he’s messing with someone. “i’m sure y/n would love to get to know you,” wooyoung grins, eyebrows wiggling before he sends yeosang a dramatic wink.

san’s mouth quickly forms an o as he realizes what wooyoung is implying and yunho just rolls his eyes at their antics, however neither are helping as wooyoung wraps his fingers around yeosang’s wrist and starts tugging him in the direction of the wave pool.

he can do nothing as he approaches the pool, not really in the mood to make a scene even if he could feel his heart climbing into his throat with every step that led them closer to you.

once the group is in sight you wave, sat on the edge of the pool with a float tube on your lap and feet dangling in the water. both of the lifeguard chairs are occupied and yeosang assumes that, because of the alcohol involved and the shutting down of half the park, lifeguards are double booked at the open areas, another lifeguard sat opposite you on the other side of the wave pool.

you smile brightly as wooyoung drags yeosang toward the edge of the pool, san and yunho shuffling behind. the latter two boys easily step into the water, not too interested in being involved in whatever scheme wooyoung has cooked up. wooyoung however ignores the pool in favor of sidling up right next to you.

you have to crane your neck to look up at the boys and yeosang moves his head to look at the water, feeling like a little kid as wooyoung still hasn’t let go of his wrist and does the talking for him.

“hey,” wooyoung greets you easily. “yeosang’s not a fan of the wave pool. do you mind if he sits with you while we swim?”

it’s not an entire lie, this spot being yeosang’s least favorite in the whole park, but he’s not too interested in sitting next to you in silence while his friends laugh at him. he knows it will be silent because he’s certainly not confident enough to start conversation, plus you have a whole job to do, and he’s certain his friends will be laughing at him because they’ve already noticed his attraction to you.

“sure,” you agree, to a bit of shock from yeosang, and pat the concrete next to you, shifting the tube on your lap so that it’s not in the way.

“great!” wooyoung declares but yeosang certainly doesn’t agree as he gets shoved to the spot you patted and a harsh push on his shoulder encourages him to take a seat. “have fun,” wooyoung adds before he’s scurrying off to join yunho and san.

there’s barely enough time to process that his best friend has abandoned him before you’re speaking up.

“so, not a fan of the wave pool,” you prompt and yeosang spares a glance at you.

you’re still looking over the pool, scanning for any danger or situations to whistle at people about.

“uh yeah,” he answers plainly, placing the cup he’s surprised didn’t spill during wooyoung’s tugging on the ground between you two. “i mean, don’t really like water parks in general so,” he explains with a shrug, venturing to put one of his legs into the edge of the pool, the other still tucked underneath him.

“really?” you ask like you’re actually surprised, like you’ve never actually met someone that didn’t like a water park, but based on your profession he’s sure you probably don’t often run into people who don’t frequent any pool.

he doesn’t answer, just shrugging once more as he watches the way the water ripples whenever he shifts his foot under the water.

“any particular reason?” you ask and yeosang ventures another glance at you, this time making eye contact with him as you’ve turned your head to face him. “i mean you don’t seem to be scared of water or anything,” you say as you gesture toward his leg that hangs off the ledge.

instead of returning to hold your float tube you place the hand you’d used on the concrete, leaning toward yeosang just slightly and he can smell a hint of the sunscreen you’d been reapplying through the day as well as something that he assumes is a cologne or perfume you must of sprayed on during your break. it makes his brain feel a bit fuzzy as you tilt your head at him, waiting for an answer.

“uh, i don’t know.” he can practically hear wooyoung judging his bland response and tries to rack his brain for anything else to say. “just don’t find it interesting i guess.”

you hum in acknowledgment, nodding slowly as you observe yeosang and even though the hot sun went down over an hour ago he feels like he might melt.

“so there’s nothing specific about it you hate?” you pry, taking another quick glance over the pool to make sure no one drowned when you weren’t looking before you return your gaze to the man beside you.

yeosang reaches out for his drink and realizes a moment too late how close your hand is to the cup, his fingers brushing against your warm skin and causing a tingle to shoot up his arm. you don’t mention the contact but yeosang swears he sees the corner of your mouth tick up as he takes a swig of his beverage, placing the cup on the other side of himself once he’s swallowed.

“no secret hate for lifeguards or anything right?” you continue to interrogate him, a teasing tone seeping into your words.

he could mention how he thinks you’re all overbearing and judgemental but he’s not sure that would work in his favor right now considering you don’t seem to actually be all that bad.

“no,” he says with a shake of his head, eyes not leaving your own.

at that your smile seems to grow, eyes holding a sparkle of something yeosang can’t quite read.

“good,” you respond, “because that would make asking you out a lot harder.”

marriage pact

⇀ paring ex best friend!san x heartbroken!reader

⇀ wc 1.1k

⇀ warnings therapy mentions/appointment, previous heartbreak, reader feels a lot of guilt, reader cries, cursing

you wish, with everything in your power, that you could reverse time, or maybe just knock some sense into your 14 year old self, and maybe you technically could, if you only shoved everything back in the shoebox and put it back on the shelf. then it would sit where it had for years before, except instead of dust, it would collect guilt, your guilt, every time you passed and remembered what was in it. your high school diary, a few birthday cards, notes with ink so faded the words were indecipherable, a paper clipped stack of photo booth strips, and one intact copy of the marriage pact you’d made with your best friend choi san, well, your high school best friend. why did you have to find it now, just as you’re reaching the age which you’d either need to be already married or fulfill your half of the contract by saying “i do”?

you think for a moment that you could simply throw out the entire box, but you’re too sentimental for that, it’s why the box had been with you so long in the first place, but now the memories, that should have been happily contained, have come to seep back into your life and the heartbreak taints every single one.

you could throw away just the pact, but your trash stinks enough already and you can practically hear the voice of your therapist telling you how it’s just an opportunity, an excuse, to reach out and maybe mend something that’s been broken for so long.

damn her for being right all the time.

and so you call, hoping his number is still the same or you’ll have wasted all your worrying for nothing. there’s nothing to indicate it’s his voicemail box, the generic computer voice reading out it’s typical prompt, but you might as well. if it’s a wrong number they’ll simply never call you back and you’ll go on with your life, as best you can.

“hey, i’m not sure if this is the right number. i’m trying to reach choi san. i’m-“ you pause for a moment, trying to figure out how to describe yourself. “i’m an old friend,” you settle on. “so, yeah. if you can give me a call back, i just needed,” you pause again. did you need to? maybe you should’ve written a script just in case. “wanted,” you amend, “to talk.” you pause again, wondering how you should end before the line beeps, signaling it’s been ended for you.

at your appointment the next day, your therapist seems proud, even as you try to change the subject, work around your feelings. she manages, as she always does, to steer you back on track, approach your emotions head on, and as she makes you recount the memories, and sensations, attached to the items in the shoebox, you feel your phone vibrate in your pocket. your first instinct is to silence it and so you do, barely registering the action before you’re sucked back into your session. only after you’ve penciled in your next meeting do you register that you’d sent a call to voicemail.

“hi y/n,” he starts easily and his voice has the hair on the back of your neck rising.

“i’m sorry i missed your call yesterday,” and he sounds genuinely apologetic. “i actually wanted to talk to you too i was just really busy until right now. i’m free for the rest of the day, so if you get a chance call me back. lo-“ your breath hitches at his mistake, forcing you to realize how shallowly you’d been inhaling the entirety of the message. “bye,” he concludes, an emptiness in his tone, before the message ends.

as you sit in your car, still in the parking lot of your therapist’s office, you remember that you had intentionally left out your name when leaving your message and that even after all these years, all this time apart, he can still recognize you by your voice alone, no matter how garbled by phone speaker quality.

you toss around the idea of waiting until you get back to your place to call but you can feel the nerves starting to tangle your stomach and are certain that you’ll have talked yourself out of it by the time you would get there. instead, you call back.

he picks up on the second ring.

“hi.”

he sounds like he’s smiling and you hope that’s a good sign, not an indication that he’s about to laugh at you and tell you to fuck off.

“hi,” you breath in response, probably a little pathetic.

“you wanted to talk?” he supplies and if you could get out of your own head you might pin the statement as sounding a bit teasing, maybe even a hint flirty, but you can barely register anything when everything you’ve wanted to say for the past few years is suddenly all mingling at the front of your consciousness.

“uh yeah,” you confirm plainly, trying to will your mouth to create any other sound.

as if he can sense your distress, just as he always had, san speaks up for you and says the words that had settled on the back of your tongue, “do you remember that pact we made when we were 14?”

in the moment you feel like it’s the right thing to say but as soon as the words are out of your mouth you anticipate the moments you’ll lie awake at night berating yourself for them.

“i love you and i’m sorry i made you hate me.”

you feel like you’re waiting for the storm to finally hit as your words are met with pregnant silence, san’s breath on the other end of the line as clear as if he were sat in your passenger seat, and for a moment you allow yourself to imagine just that.

“i never hated you,” he says with clear exasperation, seemingly surprised. “have you thought i’ve hated you this whole time?”

you nod shakily before remembering that he can’t see you and muttering a broken, “yes.”

“i’m so sorry,” he acknowledges before shushing you gently, and only at the sound of his comfort do you realize that you had started sobbing.

you try to calm yourself, your heavy breaths pacifying into watery hiccups as san eases you back from your sudden emotional release.

“can i tell you something?” san says after a moment and you nod once again before chuckling at yourself and verbally confirming he can.

“i love you too,” he says with an ease that almost makes you jealous. “so can we talk more about that pact?”

love at first sight

⇀ paring clumsy!mingi x er nurse!reader

⇀ wc 1.9k

⇀ warnings lots of eye talk, hospital setting

it was well known in the er that the full moon night shift was bound to be chaotic, something about the energy of the phase making people feel like they’re invincible and leading them to accidents that seemed next to impossible to occur. even if you weren’t superstitious about any of that astrological stuff, you couldn’t ignore the evidence as this night, like every full moon before it, brought you a plethora of patients that each had a problem more severe or strange than the last. you were quickly running out of beds and soon you’d run out of space in the waiting room as you noticed another person entering through the sliding glass doors.

“this is the busiest i’ve ever seen it,” chae, the triage nurse stationed at the front desk says as you move past her to the file folder, ready to grab the next patient to take back. she was new to the emergency department, a sweetheart who’d done all her clinicals in your pediatrics department and therefore had never seen the full moon effect.

“your first full moon,” you note, digging through the file folder to pull out the next one and look at the name. “you’re doing great,” you note with a gentle pat on her shoulder.

she smiles at you appreciatively before turning to address the patient quickly approaching the desk.

you take a glance into the file in your hands. “painful eyes, difficulty seeing. possible hazardous material in eyes,” the intake form reads and you sigh. what does “possible” mean in this situation?

“song mingi,” you call out into the waiting area and a rather tall man, eyes shut tightly, pops up from his seat immediately, another shorter man following suit and reaching out a hand to stabilize the taller as he stumbles. they both make their way to you, the shorter guiding the taller so he doesn’t bump into anyone or anything on his way.

“mingi?” you ask gesturing toward the one who clearly is having eye problems while looking at the other, seemingly fine, man and he only nods.

“i’m his brother, hongjoong,” the shorter one says and they don’t seem to resemble each other very much but you think nothing of it, more interested in treating your patient, who appears to be in quiet a bit of pain, then anything else.

“you can both follow me,” you say, scanning your badge to open the door and moving just slower than you might normally to allow hongjoong to lead mingi.

once you arrive to one of the empty rooms hongjoong guides mingi to sit on the bed, muttering about how stupid he is, before taking a seat himself on one of the plastic chairs off to the side.

you pay no mind to the muffled communication of the men as you place mingi’s folder onto the counter next to the sink and move to start taking his vitals. they both go silent as you wrap the blood pressure cuff around his arm, clipping the pulse oximeter onto his finger as well.

all of his vitals come back normal, only slightly elevated, as expected, because of the stress and pain, and you note them onto his chart.

“so what did you do to your eyes,” you ask as you go to remove the blood pressure cuff.

“uh well,” mingi starts his voice strained with a mix of pain and embarrassment, “i was trying to scare my friend and he was, uh, holding air freshener.”

you resist the urge to roll your eyes as you assume what happened next in his story.

“okay,” you say with a nod, putting the cuff you’d removed back in the basket and taking down notes on his chart. “did you try rinsing your eyes?”

he swallows thickly, his adams apple bobbing, and you let out a silent sigh as you prepare for whatever else must have went wrong.

“we tried,” he says a little shakily, “but the bottle must have had leftover cleaner or something in it.”

of course it did. you hold yourself back from asking how or why and glance at hongjoong who looks as exasperated as you feel, eyes closed and fingers massaging his temples.

“so you don’t know what the cleaner was?” you ask and mingi shakes his head, wincing as he squeezes his eyes tighter.

“can i take a look at your eyes?” you ask as you set down his chart, grabbing the pen light out of your scrub pocket.

“uh sure,” he says but you can hear the hesitation once again.

“okay, i’m going to hold your eye open for a second,” you explain, adjusting the bed so that his eyes are level with your own. “i’m going to shine a light into them just so i can make sure there’s no debris and they’re dilating properly.”

he gulps again and you know that he’s preparing for it to be painful.

“okay,” he says, a little more determined, and you place your fingers on his eyelid, starting with his left eye.

you try to move as quickly as you can, not wanting it to be too painful, but his hurt grunts are still audible as you check both eyes. fortunately, they’re dilating fine and you can’t see any damage or debris.

“they look alright,” you note aloud, slipping the light back in your pocket and writing more on his chart. “let’s just get your eyes properly flushed and some antibiotic drops in there, then we can see how they’re doing.”

mingi’s shoulders relax a little at this and you start to make your way toward the door, heading out to grab the irrigation tubing and kidney dish as well as ask another nurse to prepare the drops you’ll need.

“will he need to stay overnight?” hongjoong asks as you open the door and you turn back to him.

“we’ll want to keep him for at least an hour after we administer the drops to make sure that nothing gets worse but if he’s cleared up by then you’ll be able to go,” you explain and hongjoong nods as you leave.

flushing his eyes takes a moment as he fights to close his eyes a lot during the process, which is understandable, but the eye drops are worse, managing to get his eyes closed right before the solution hits his eyeball no matter how well you manage to hold his eye lids. eventually, with the help of another nurse holding his lids while you administer the drops, you manage to give him the proper dosage and leave him to check on another patient. you promise to return in an hour and instruct both men on how to use the nurse call button in case anything happens before then.

“he’s kind of cute,” chae, now munching on a granola bar as she takes her break behind the nurse’s station, says as you approach. “in like a himbo way,” she elaborates when you raise a brow at her, only shrugging as she take another bite.

you shake your head in slight disappointment. “he’s my patient,” you say. “i’m not really focused on how attractive he is.”

“so you agree he’s attractive,” chae chimes, peeking up for a moment before you roll your eyes.

“i’m not doing this with you again,” is your only response, moving past her to continue with your work.

an hour later you knock gently on the door of mingi’s room before entering to find hongjoong still in the plastic chair, phone in hand as he scrolls, and mingi asleep on the bed, the heartbeat monitor beeping quietly. you take that as a good sign.

“hello,” you greet hongjoong before you move toward the bed, preparing to wake your patient.

hongjoong greets you in return, tucking his phone away so he can pay attention to what you’re doing.

you take a brief glance at the heartbeat and oxygen monitor, noticing that his vitals are normal before taping mingi on the shoulder with enough force to jostle him awake. he grunts slightly before stretching, eyes scrunching up for a moment before they blink open.

“good morning,” you say with a teasing grin and mingi turns to face you.

suddenly the beeping of the monitor that had been steady and slow before is increasing rapidly and your head whips to look at it with surprise.

“you don’t have a heart condition do you?” you ask with concern, brows furrowing as you turn back to look at mingi once again.

his face and ears are bright red and his eyes go wide before he sits up with a start. “uh no, i don’t,” he rushes out, his words shaky as he lowers his gaze to his hands that now sit in his lap, messing with the clip on his pointer finger as though he wants to remove it.

“is everything okay?” you ask with genuine concern. “what’s wrong?”

mingi clears his throat and keeps his gaze firmly focused on his hands as he answers, “nothing. i just- you’re really cute.”

“oh my god,” you hear hongjoong huff in disbelief before his face drops into his hand, eyes covered in what you can only assume is embarrassment.

now it’s your turn to blush, a heat creeping onto your cheeks as you try to calm your own heart.

“oh,” you breathe, trying to collect your thoughts and remain professional. “thank you,” you say quickly before you hurry to take the clip off his finger, ignoring the heat of his skin against your own as your hand brushes his own.

“how are your eyes?” you ask, your own gaze moving about the room sheepishly.

“good,” he chirps, voice cracking slightly.

“good,” you mirror with a sharp nod. “i’m, uh, going to write you a prescription for antibiotic drops and just use those twice a day for the next two weeks,” you say, returning to business. “just come back if they get worse.”

mingi nods, still not looking at you and you clear your throat.

“thank you,” hongjoong says for mingi, and you nod in response.

you leave as quickly as you can, eager to be rid of the weird energy that had been created in the room. luckily your shift is close to over and one of the other nurse practitioners catches the way you’re acting a bit weird as you file the prescription, telling you to go home early and she’ll cover for you. you fight for a moment before finally giving in and deciding to make a quick stop at the 24-hour convenience store on the way home.

“oh!” a familiar voice snaps you out of your thoughts about which late night snack to pick and you turn quickly to see none other than song mingi standing before you, a look of surprise on his face as he looks at you.

“hi,” you squeak, just as surprised.

you feel your blush from earlier returning and turn back to face the shelf you’d been browsing.

“i’m sorry if i made you uncomfortable before,” mingi says, keeping his distance but not looking away from you.

you shake your head and glance at him for a moment. “oh no,” you reassure, “i just wasn’t prepared.” you let out a slightly nervous laugh.

mingi hums thoughtfully and nods slowly, taking an experimental step toward you.

“could i ask you something?” he requests and you turn to face him fully.

“sure,” you reply with a gentle shrug.

“let me know if i’m overstepping,” he begins, eyes flicking from yours to the shelf of snacks and back, “but could i get your number?”

enemies to lovers

⇀ paring chef!wooyoung x host!reader

⇀ wc 2.1k

⇀ warnings wooyoung is mean, discussion of food and eating, mentions of bullying in high school

so maybe your job wasn’t the worst, and most of your coworkers were pretty manageable, but wooyoung, he’s what made it unbearable at times. you’d already asked your manager to be scheduled for when he wasn’t, but he’d explained that you were the best one up front and he was the best in the kitchen, so of course you’re both going to be scheduled during the restaurant’s busiest times. “plus maybe it will force you two to work out whatever’s wrong.”

what your manager didn’t account for was that there was no working out what was wrong, considering it had been nothing that you were aware of. wooyoung had simply looked at you on your first day and decided he hated you. could you have asked why? of course, but you’re not sure he would have told you because to every question you asked him he would simply huff and roll his eyes, telling you to ask someone else.

his little act had quickly gotten on your nerves and so you were fast to return his disdain, deciding that his uncalled for behavior was enough of a reason to hate him.

“you know, if you just talked to him you could make everyone’s lives just a little bit easier,” soonha, you’re favorite waitress, says as she unties her apron and makes sure all her pens are organized in the pockets before placing it in her locker.

she’d been listening to you complain about everything wooyoung had done during your shift that had pissed you off, from as small as walking in a minute late to the way he’d complained about you blocking his path when you were eating a snack in an empty corner of the kitchen, a spot you’d chosen because it was specifically out of the way. of course the worst had been when he’d sided with a patron that was lying about their wait time, almost getting you in trouble with the manager on duty before you actually showed her the patron’s check-in timer.

“he’s the one with the problem,” you scoff, pushing your arms through the sleeves of your jacket. “he should be the one talking to me. you know he didn’t even apologize today.”

soonha only rolls her eyes, shutting her locker before a look of surprise takes over her features and she’s whipping around to you.

“oh my gosh, i totally forgot i told kay that i would restock her citruses,” the waitress says, pulling out what you can assume is a list from the bartender, kay, of the number of lemons, limes, and oranges that needed to be brought up to the bar.

“hey let me do that,” you say, grabbing the slip of paper from her hand.

“are you sure?” she says, although the way she glances at the back door tells you that she’s not too attached to the task.

“of course,” you reassure. “you’ve got the baby at home, go,” you encourage her and she’s basically running out the back door.

“they’re just in cold storage,” she reminds you quickly as the door shuts behind her and you chuckle with a gentle shake of your head in amusement.

the task is easy enough, grabbing a small empty cardboard box from the deserted kitchen as you make your way to the walk-in refrigerator, noticing that the kitchen staff all appear to have left for the night and thanking whatever higher power was watching over you for not making you the last person in the restaurant with wooyoung.

it’s been a while since you’d actually been inside cold storage, your job description not calling for it unless you were being an extra hand for bartending, although that was something that most of your staff asked the waiters for. this mostly meant that you couldn’t remember if it was normal for the door to click like that when it closed behind you. obviously that didn’t matter much anyway and so you just continue with the task at hand, searching for wherever kitchen staff had put citruses when they were rearranging.

as you’re reaching above your head to grab a handful of lemons to place in your trusty cardboard box the door to cold storage is suddenly cracking open, nearly causing you to have a heart attack as you’d believed you were the last person in the building. to your dismay, in walks the last person you’d probably ever want to see, possibly even over some robber interested in making off with your cold stock, wooyoung. he takes a moment before he registers that it’s you and the familiar scowl takes over his features, adjusting the large box in his arms.

you try to appear unaffected by his presence, taking a breath to calm your racing heart at the shock from a moment ago and turning back to counting your lemons. you sigh as you realize he must have been in dry storage when you passed through the kitchen and curse yourself for getting your hopes up about this task being easy.

the door makes that same click as it closes behind him but you don’t hear wooyoung react, moving to the shelf right behind you and standing with his back only inches from your own. the box he’s holding makes a soft thump as it hits the ground and you clearly hear the tape ripping off the top. from what you can tell he seems to be placing whatever was in the box into the crate on the shelf behind you and you’re trying so hard not to pay attention to him as you continue your own job.

soon enough your little box is filled with the correct number of fruits, you even double checked your counting, and you turn to leave the fridge as wooyoung starts to breakdown his now empty box. however, you don’t get very far, the door not budging when you place pressure against the handle.

you let out a huff as you place your box down and grab the handle with both hands. when the door still doesn’t move you lean your shoulder against it, trying to use your body weight to leverage the thing open.

“what are you doing?”

you feel your skin prickle at his voice, obviously annoyed with whatever antics he thinks you’re up to now, and you turn around as slowly as you can manage, face blank.

“the door is stuck,” you explain and wooyoung’s face scrunches up in response before he’s moving toward you.

“move,” he demands and you slide off to the side before he can place his hand on your shoulder to move you himself.

of course he’d taken off his chef coat, leaving him in just his white undershirt and black slacks, and you resist the urge to watch his arms as he gives a harsh push to the door. unfortunately for the both of you, his shoving is just as successful as yours was and you roll your eyes at him.

“what the fuck did you do?” he says, turning to you with anger painting his features.

if you didn’t hate him you might have found him slightly attractive now, gaze dark and sharp as he looked right through you, but he had some vendetta against you and therefore you had one against him.

“me?” you say in disbelief. “why do you think i had something to do with this?”

he scoffs and it’s probably a sound you would be able to identify in your sleep at this point, having heard it so often.

“you always do,” he mutters and you don’t know what to say in response, opting instead to just roll your eyes once more and chalking it up to whatever mystery grudge he’s holding against you.

“whatever, i’ll just call-“ you cut yourself off as you dig your hands into your jacket pockets and realize that your phone is still sat inside of your open locker in the break room. “never mind,” you mumble as you pull your hands from your pockets and decide to just take a seat on the chilly floor.

“right,” wooyoung says looking down at you with one eyebrow raised before he’s pulling his own phone from his pocket.

you’re barely listening as he speaks with whoever he calls, only picking out a few words here and there as you start to realize the predicament you’re in. of all the people to be trapped with.

“mingyu should be here in half an hour or so,” wooyoung tells you before he joins you on the floor, sitting across from you. “he told us not to kill each other in the meantime.”

you just flick your eyes up to him, your expression passive, before you go back to counting the floor tiles.

you’re not sure you’ll survive until help arrives, the first minute going by in a silence that feels like it’s crawling along your skin, threatening to eat you whole. by the second minute you’ve counted all the tiles on the floor that you can see five times and have moved onto counting the crates behind wooyoung. maybe you can go through and count the things in the crates next.

“what are you doing?”

you’re tempted not to answer him but you have a feeling he’ll ask again and the only thing worse than loosing count once is loosing count twice.

“counting,” you say plainly, starting with the crates again, however, you don’t even get close to where you’d left off last time when he speaks again.

“well, stop,” he says and you make sure he sees your look of confusion and annoyance. “you’re making me paranoid,” he elaborates and you just huff, turning you head so that he’s no longer in your line of sight.

“why do you hate me?”

you immediately don’t want to hear the answer and you whip your head back to him, worry on your features as you prepare to take it back.

except you don’t take it back, his face painted with bewilderment causing you to pause. he looks as though he can’t understand why you would ask, as though the answer was written on his forehead and you should simply be able to read it.

“are you trying to tell me you don’t remember?” he asks, and it’s the first time you can recall him being genuine with you.

you shake your head with a similar look of confusion.

“high school,” he supplies as though it will jog your memory.

the only problem is that it doesn’t, you didn’t go to high school with wooyoung, in fact you didn’t go to high school with anyone you work with, because you only moved to the area after graduating.

“wooyoung,” you start as you watch his features begin to soften, “the first time i met you was here, on my first day.”

he shakes his head with force, like he’s trying to convince himself.

“you were in that group, with miri, that always laughed at me,” he continues in disbelief, continuing to ramble about this group of bullies, and you feel your heart sink.

“wooyoung,” you repeat to catch his attention and he silenced himself. “i didn’t go to high school with you.”

you watch as his shoulders, which had lifted with every word that had come out of his mouth only moments ago, drop back down and he pales, eyes wide as he really sees you for the first time.

“i’m sorry,” he says, his eyes filled with regret as he remembers every little thing he’s done to make your life at work a living hell for as long as you’ve worked here. “i’m so, so sorry.”

“honestly,” you begin, processing everything that’s happened within the last few minutes, “if i thought someone i worked with was my high school bully, i would probably do the same things you did,” you say with a chuckle and you can see a blush start to tint wooyoung’s cheeks.

there’s a moment of quiet, one that feels like the polar opposite of the silence you sat in before, and you feel like you can clearly see the gears turning inside of wooyoung’s mind.

“did you eat dinner?” he asks finally, looking at you expectantly.

you just shake your head and watch as a bashful grin makes its way onto his face.

“can we start over?” he suggests. “i can make us something,” he adds, not oblivious to the way the other chefs had bribed you with food in the past. “after mingyu saves us, of course.”

right on cue you can hear someone puttering around in the kitchen, heading your way.

“sure,” you nod gently, a soft grin on your face, as wooyoung stands, offering his hand to you.

brother’s best friend

⇀ paring soccer player!jongho x sports photographer!reader

⇀ wc 1.8k

⇀ warnings cat-calling, jongho punches somebody, cursing, implications of harassment

you’d had a crush on your older brother’s best friend, jongho, for as long as you could remember, a secret that you’d kept to yourself just as long. unfortunately, within the last few years it had gotten much more difficult to hide this little fact, partly due to the fact that you’d managed to become best friends with probably the worst secret keeper on your college campus but, mostly because you were forced by your job to interact with him more than ever.

you were one of the student sports photographers on campus, assigned to photograph the men’s soccer team in the fall, a team which jongho and your brother were apart of. that was how they met in middle school, your brother the school’s goalie while jongho played midfield, and you hadn’t known peace since. of course you loved being able to pursue your passion and get paid for it, but with each game that you had to attend it was becoming more and more difficult to focus on your job.

jongho had grown a lot during the summer before his freshman year, the training for the team intense but rewarding, and suddenly you weren’t the only one with a more than platonic interest in the boy. by sophomore year, he was a star player, attracting the attention of those who weren’t even interested in soccer, or any sport for that matter. people would start to come to games just to see jongho sweaty and focused. now, as you and jongho began your junior years, your brother a senior, your jealousy was starting to peak.

“don’t act like you wouldn’t do the same if it wasn’t your job,” billie, your best friend and roommate, said as you threw another dirty look to the group of girls that had been shouting jongho’s name every five seconds.

you’d been complaining to her about all the attention on jongho, openly admitting your jealousy as she’d managed to pry the information of your crush out of you last year.

“i wouldn’t scream his name and distract him from his game,” you bite, bringing the viewfinder back up to your eye and following the ball as someone on the opposing team threw it back into play.

your job required you to attend every soccer game, and the occasional practice, to get shots for the campus newspaper and website. billie had started to tag along as your assistant at the beginning of this semester, claiming to just be happy to hang out with you even if she wasn’t getting paid, totally not because she had a crush on your brother or anything.

“right,” billie says with a nod, adjusting the strap of your camera bag on her shoulder, “because you can get his attention without all the drama.”

your best friend had gotten some weird idea in her head that jongho was secretly in love with you, an idea that had prompted her to dig into your feelings for jongho in the first place. you tried not to listen, not wanting to let her feed any sort of delusion that you and jongho were somehow possible.

“you know, when you said you would be my assistant, i thought you meant like helping me, not being annoying,” you say sarcastically, snapping a few pictures as your attacking midfielder managed to get control of the ball.

“maybe you’re being annoying,” billie pouts in response. “i’m just saying what i see.”

you resist the urge to roll your eyes, trying to focus on who has the ball and what moments to capture.

“am i not an objective party?” she asks and you have no idea where she’s heading with this argument. “you’ve known him for years and so you’re set that he doesn’t see you that way. i’m a fresh set of eyes to tell you the truth!”

you scoff at her. “you said yourself i’ve known him for years, wouldn’t that mean i know him better? so i know that he’s not interested?” you argue, players surrounding the ball and crowding your lens.

“you’re biased,” she says with a sense of finality and you pull your camera away from your face, deciding to glance through some of the pictures you’d just taken to see if you needed to adjust any of your settings. the lighting had changed a bit since the beginning of the game.

“yeah,” you agree after a moment, “and you’re a hopeless romantic.”

you turn and trek around down the field, looking for a new angle. you hear billie running after you, your camera bag bouncing against her hip gently and you remind yourself to at least buy her dinner after this as thanks for following you around for 90 minutes.

just as you both reach the other side of the field, the referee is blowing a whistle to signal the start of halftime and you sigh, glad to already be on the side of the field where the players benches are. you weren’t required to get pictures of players on the bench or any of the team huddled, but you liked to. they made good shots to advertise the team pride and allowed everyone to have professional pictures, even if they didn’t play in that game.

“hey y/n, hey billie,” you brother says as he passes you both, jogging toward the bench to grab his water and take a rest.

billie lights up and waves as he passes, you only roll your eyes, following after your brother to get closer to the bench.

“make sure you get my left, it’s my best side,” one of the players, hojin, says jokingly as you snap a wide shot of all the players sat on the bench.

you chuckle lightly, enjoying your banter with the players, as you continue to get a few more wide angles.

“what’s your name sexy?” you hear someone call behind you and turn to see one of the players of the opposing team looking right at you.

you don’t say anything for a moment, kind of shocked that anyone on the opposing team was talking to you as that had never happened before. you recognized him as their center midfielder, opposite jongho for a majority of the game.

“none of you business!” billie calls back for you, linking her arm with your own and pulling you closer to your team.

the guy doesn’t seem all that discouraged at first, sending you a wink before his eyes flick to something, or someone, behind you and his face drops.

you turn around just in time to see your brother sitting back on the bench, features sharp, and jongho turning to look at their coach, anger clear on his face.

you try not to think anything of it, knowing that your brother and jongho were naturally very protective, as billie tugs on your arm that’s still linked with hers.

“c’mon,” she says, “don’t forget to get your huddle shot.”

you try to return to business as normal once the game resumes, making sure to get a few key pictures that are always a hit for article features, but you’ve started to let your camera drift centerfield, toward jongho. except unlike other times this has happened it’s not simply because you’re being distracted by how handsome he looks. he’s started getting a bit aggressive with the player opposite him, the one that had called to you during halftime, and you watch through your lens as the player says something to jongho. whatever he said must have really upset jongho because just as you’re pulling away from the viewfinder he reels back and sends his fist right into the other guy’s face.

you feel your blood run cold as you watch the whole interaction unfold, a ref blowing the whistle sharply as he runs to centerfield. your brother, who had been on the bench, bolts for jongho, other players from both teams moving in to break up whatever is happening. somehow the other player manages to remain standing after the hit, stumbling back a bit, and jongho takes a few steps forward with a raised fist before your brother gets to him and pulls him back.

“what the actual fuck is wrong with you?” you hear your brother saying as he drags jongho toward the bench.

you hand billie your camera, telling her you’ve got enough for today and that she can just mess around with it before you stomp toward the bench yourself. your best friend sends you a slightly concerned, if not sympathetic, look as you leave but does as you say.

“are you crazy?” you say once you get to where jongho is sat, your brother popping a disposable ice pack and placing it onto his hand.

“if you’re here to lecture me i don’t need it,” jongho grunts. “i already know it was a bad idea.”

you scoff in disbelief as your eyebrows shoot up. “a bad idea? it was unbelievably stupid! what in the world would posses you to do something like that?”

jongho looks up at you for a moment, eyes blank, before looking at your brother who’s stood next to you, looking at his best friend expectantly.

“well?” you brother says, crossing his arms.

“some people should just keep their mouth shut,” jongho says looking down at his hand that’s covered by the ice pack and you scoff again, crossing your own arms.

“jongho,” you say sternly and he looks up at you again, eyes almost pleading for you not to press further. “i know you. this is not you.”

he shrugs, trying to seem nonchalant, before saying, “maybe it is.”

you sigh, sitting down next to jongho and placing a hand gently on top of his forearm.

“no it’s not,” you insist, much softer as you rub your thumb along his arm soothingly.

your own palm tingles at the sensation of his skin against yours but you can’t bring yourself to pull away.

jongho looks at your hand on him for a moment before glancing up at your face. after a moment he turns to where your brother is still standing and ticks his head in some sort of signal that has your brother patting jongho’s shoulder once before leaving you both.

“you asked if i was crazy,” jongho starts, turning to meet your slightly confused gaze. “i am crazy,” he says with a humorless laugh, “crazy for you.”

your thumb stops it’s movements as you freeze, wondering if you’re hearing him right.

“i couldn’t let him get away with what he was saying about you,” jongho explains. “i just snapped.”

you close your eyes, shaking your head like you’re trying to get rid of the thoughts clouding your judgement, before you ask, “can we go back to the part where you’re crazy?”

he chuckles again and you open your eyes to see a soft smile on his face.

“i’ve had the biggest, most embarrassing crush on you for years y/n,” he says, a blush dusting his cheeks.

your own lips curl into a smile as you reply, “that’s impossible because i’ve had the biggest, most embarrassing crush on you for years jongho.”

↼ ateez masterlist

note hope you enjoyed and these couples may be making a reappearance at some point in the future (also if you genuinely want to know the hangul just translates to “hey, where are you from”)

feedback always appreciated

you’re hongjoong’s bias

when you and your group go on idol radio to promote your latest comeback, you don’t anticipate one of the hosts to be completely enraptured by you

⇀ pairing idol!hongjoong x idol!reader

⇀ genre fluff, idol au

⇀ style one shot

⇀ word count 8.6k

⇀ warnings brief mentions of idol life difficulties, food, hugging, kissing, this is basically all fluff

⇀ reactions from the gc “IM GONNA JUMP OFF A MOVING TRAIN” “Ooohhhhhhh Oh Shit” “You love to torment us with this don’t you”

note this is written completely gender neutral, all of your group members use they/them pronouns and have unisex names so you can imagine any type of group, there’s a mention of makeup but all genders wear makeup in the entertainment industry, also here is a little playlist inspired by the group in this fic if you’re real delulu like me

your group, eclipse, had been enjoying your recent promotional period, your fans, lovingly termed starlight, had been working hard to promote your latest comeback and for once your company had been able to do the same. eclipse wasn’t particularly unknown before, you’d already had your first music show win and been recognized at several korean music award shows, but this was certainly your most successful song and mini album yet. you, as the main dancer and oldest, had particularly enjoyed all of the interest from idols that had asked to do the dance challenge with you for tiktok and instagram. it allowed you to meet a lot of people in the industry who you had admired and wanted to get to know before but didn’t know how to approach. of all the idols you had done the challenge with there was certainly one that stuck out in your mind, kim hongjoong, captain of ateez and dj on idol radio.

your group had gone onto the radio show as part of your promotions, something not unusual for you all as you’d been on an episode when youngjae and young k were the hosts, as well as one with joohoney and hyungwon as djs just over a year ago. this time, however, felt very different. maybe it was the nerves from how much more attention your group was receiving that was making you feel a little fidgety in your seat or maybe it was the fact that one of the djs couldn’t seem to take his eyes off of you.

for the first ten minutes of your time at idol radio you’re scared that there’s something on your face, trying to subtly glance at any reflective surface to parse what could be causing someone to pay so much attention to you.

when yunho and hongjoong both seemed to be completely focused on another one of your members, asking something about the recording process for the album, you try to subtly place a hand on the arm of your group’s leader, nuri, sat right next to you.

as you lean away from the microphone in front of you, your leader turns to you, and you breathe out the word “makeup” in hopes that nuri will find whatever smudge caught hongjoong’s sharp eye.

unfortunately, they only shake their head, eyes darting around your face but returning to your own once they don’t find anything. they squeeze your hand gently with their own before turning back to the interview, a subtle gesture to both comfort you and let you know that they will definitely ask why you were concerned later.

as you retract your hand from nuri’s arm, you turn back to face the center of the table, which was conveniently set up so that your and nuri’s seats were directly opposite hongjoong and yunho’s, respectively. meaning that when you turn back to refocus on the matter at hand you instantly notice how hongjoong nervously looks away from you, suddenly finding the side of his co-hosts face extremely interesting.

“so, your latest mini album is called,” yunho begins, looking at the card in front of him to guarantee he doesn’t mispronounce it, “close orbit. this is the end of the orbit series in your concept right?”

nuri nods eagerly next to you before beginning their usual spiel about the members' roles in the creative direction of your group.

often times you’re deemed as the second in command, filling in the gaps your leader may miss, and therefore you’d like to think that you’re pretty good about turning on professional mode no matter the situation. however, from the corner of your eye you see hongjoong’s gaze flitting between you and nuri every few seconds and his behavior has begun to have you a bit nervous, fidgeting with one of the rings your stylist had given you that morning. you desperately try to pay attention to what nuri is talking about but, with the combination of the fact that you already know everything about what they’re saying and the heat that’s creeping up your neck as you try to push the thoughts of hongjoong’s behavior from your mind, you find your own thoughts wandering to hongjoong and his weird behavior.

yunho calls your name suddenly, once nuri is finished, shifting your attention back to the interview at hand and beginning to talk about your involvement in eclipse, aside from simply being a member of the group.

you try not to flick your gaze over to hongjoong too often, who now seems to find the cards he’s surely read over several times before intensely interesting, as yunho acknowledges your skills as main dancer and notes for the audience how involved you are in your group’s choreographic process, which already has a warmth blooming in your chest as you’re aware he’s the main dancer of his own group and you always find recognition from other group’s dancers to feel extra special, but the warmth is quickly transferred to your cheeks only a moment later.

“it’s kind of funny,” yunho starts and you tilt your head in interest as he peaks over to his co-host, “you’re hongjoong’s bias.”

from the look that takes over hongjoong’s face, a mix of shock and embarrassment, and the way he turns quickly to look at yunho with slight anger, you assume that this fact was supposed to stay secret, although you’re partly thankful that you have a seemingly good explanation for why hongjoong hadn’t been able to look away from you since you stepped into the studio.

you’re sure your own shocked expression comes over your face before you’re schooling it quickly, although you hear your maknae, star, sat right next to you, snickering softly under their hand, and you shoot star a quick side eye that seems to remove the humor from the situation for them.

“uh, thank you,” you say with a bow as low as the table in front of you allows, “it means a lot to hear that from a senior like you. thank you for your support.”

“of course,” hongjoong speaks suddenly, mirroring your bow as much as he can before stuttering out a statement about how you’re “so inspiring” and “light up the stage”. his face is getting redder by the second as he digs himself further into a hole but you can feel that your face is heating to match his own.

yunho seems to sense the way he’s pushed the interview off the rails and interrupts to bring attention back to your group entirely and your comeback.

through the next few minutes of the show, you’re noticeably and uncharacteristically distant as you now find yourself to have almost traded positions with hongjoong, subtly staring at him as much as you can manage without drawing immediate attention from your fans or members.

in opposition, hongjoong had now taken to looking at pretty much anything that wasn’t you after yunho had shared his little secret. unfortunately, maybe fortunately, you found that you can barely tear your gaze from the blue haired man across the table.

you were obviously a fan of ateez, being able to appreciate a lot of aspects about their talents and skills, but you’d never really gotten too much into the members themselves, aside from knowing who was who and what they each did. you found that as an idol yourself it could feel weird to try acting like a normal fan of a group, making you almost hyper aware of your own fans and their habits as you would try to focus on just one video that wasn’t related directly to the group’s music or performance.

this had meant that you had no ateez bias, although you knew a decent amount about the members, but now you’re rethinking your whole ideas of being a fan as an idol.

as you think to yourself, you attempt to rationalize the past few minutes, assuming that yunho was just joking around, trying to make fun of his hyung or maybe meaning something different from what your group’s fans meant when they said they biased you. however, every time you’ve managed to start convincing yourself, you’re just reminded of hongjoong’s reaction in the moment his member had said something.

your spiraling thoughts are only serving to distract you and suddenly, feeling a hand on your shoulder to bring you back to reality, you realize that they had started playing one of the songs from your album, letting you and your members grab snacks and wave to the fans through the window. the member with their hand on your shoulder, one of your best friends in the group, eunjae, looks at you with a mix of worry and bemusement, although you hear the slight smirk they wear in their voice as they ask if you’re okay.

you wave eunjae off before you head over to the window, not feeling particularly hungry, and hope that maybe seeing your fans will help to ground you, just as they always do.

as you’re waving through the window at several people with headbands of your and your member’s names you feel a presence beside you, much larger than any of your members. you turn to find yunho near you, not crowding you but obviously intentionally in your space, most likely to draw your attention without suspicion.

“sorry about that,” he says as you turn to him and he gestures toward the snack cart closer to the corner.

you know what he’s doing, trying to make it seem like you two are just talking about the food so as to not make fans question your interaction and so you follow him to the snack cart as you ask, trying not to show any of the question on your face, “about what?”

“making you uncomfortable,” he supplies. “hongjoong had asked me not to say anything but i didn’t think about the fact that he may have been asking that for your comfort rather than his own” yunho says in barely a whisper and you can see a light blush dusting his cheeks.

you’re thankful that your members had basically switched with you, greeting fans after clearing away from the snacks.

“don’t worry,” you reassure. “i'm not uncomfortable, it was more shocking than anything” you tell him, and as you say it you realize it’s the truth.

as an idol you often have to sacrifice your comfort for others but in this moment you aren’t saying it out of necessity but as the truth, and when you glance behind you at hongjoong, who’s intently avoiding all of your members as he also waves to the atiny that are mixed in with your fans, you feel something sparkle in the pit of your stomach. it’s a pleasant feeling, something reminiscent of admiration but more complex, deeper.

you’re not afraid to admit to yourself that hongjoong is attractive, undeniably handsome and, from everything you’d heard, genuinely nice to those around him. you could admire him as a leader and creative, knowing how much responsibility he had and that he still managed to enjoy what he did, but, with both of you working in the industry, dating could be next to impossible.

in all honesty, you’re not sure the last time you’d even had time to explore any sort of romantic interest in anyone, and maybe you were simply deprived of that experience so your brain was running wild with even the slightest exploration of thought. however your company had no dating ban and maybe it wouldn’t hurt to venture into that side of a normal life.

bringing you back to the present moment, yunho lets out a heavy breath and hands you a random piece of candy off the cart that you accept with a slight bow, convincing everyone that might be watching that you were talking about the snacks the whole time.

soon after your interaction concludes, everyone is quick to gather back around the table, taking your seats as your song fades out in the background. the next segment goes smoothly, yunho and hongjoong leading your group in a little game about how much your members know each other.

throughout the game you can’t help but sneak glances at hongjoong, your mind still working through the thoughts you’d had during the break. he appears to be trying hard to not notice you looking at him, but he manages to slip up occasionally and you try to send him a warm, if not slightly teasing, grin each time your eyes connect.

though your original intention with the gesture wasn’t to fluster the man, you find the way he reacts each time to be endearing, the blush returning to his cheeks and even starting to spread up to his ears. every time your gazes meet you feel that same tingle in your stomach begin to spread up to your chest, his expression each time feeding it, and you start to find a bit of comfort in that sensation as you feel like you’re getting to admire hongjoong who you’d been avoiding at the beginning of the show.

you’re starting to have a bit too much fun with this little game you made for yourself when yunho introduces another one of the songs from your group’s album and it starts to fade in, bringing an end to your antics.

this time, as the break starts, you intentionally take a moment before standing, pretending to stretch in your seat and standing slowly as you see hongjoong moving toward the fans out of the corner of your eye. you, as subtly as you can, move toward the fans and in the general direction of hongjoong, trying to get the opportunity to talk to him since he had been shying away from speaking to you ever since yunho’s little slip up. he seems too distracted by an atiny that’s mouthing something to him through the window to notice how close you manage to get.

once you’re sufficiently within speaking range, but not too close, always careful of fan suspicion when you’re in the presence of other idols, you try to casually greet him with a simple “hi” but you’re unprepared for the way he quickly flips around to face you, looking almost like a deer in headlights.

you’re both a bit stuck, just staring at each other before you hear a very obvious fake cough coming from both yunho and nuri that seems to snap you out of it and you each try to play it off with giggles and laughs, mostly for the camera and fans that had been intently tuned in to the strange interaction between the two of you.

“sorry, didn’t mean to scare you,” you say as you move toward the window, pretending like it had been your intention the whole time to simply say hi to fans once again.

“oh no, uhm, i’m sorry, i don’t know why i reacted like that,” he answers shakily with a nervous chuckle and turns back to the fans as well.

for a moment you both just wave out at the fans, genuinely finding interest in those that had come to support you. after what you deem to be enough time of interaction you finally speak up.

“i’m not uncomfortable, by the way,” you mention casually, hoping hongjoong understands what you mean.

“oh, really?” he sound’s surprised, and you peak out of the corner of your eye to see that he’s trying to hold back the surprise from showing on his face.

“yeah,” you admit. “i’m actually flattered,” you add, turning to hongjoong with a soft smile before you move to the snack cart.

you miss the way his shoulders seem to visibly relax and the grin that spreads onto his face as you leave. fan’s will chalk it up to the fact that he was relieved to be a further distance from you, hongjoong being know to keep his space from the idols that come on as guests, but yunho is quick to spot that it looks more like the expression his captain wears after a satisfying performance or successful interview.

your break is quick to wrap up after that, this song being shorter than the one they’d played earlier, and you’re all back to your seats. you start to readjust in your seat, getting comfortable for the next portion of the show, until you’re passed a head mic and remember that you’re going to teach, along with another one of your members, insoo, yunho and hongjoong the point choreography from your title track.

you’re excited to be back in your element, almost forgetting everything that had happened with hongjoong as you and your member run through the choreography to demonstrate before you’ll teach the boys.

the choreography is nothing too difficult, as your company is always sure to remind you that easier point choreo is more marketable, but it involves a great deal of interaction between you and your member, them starting the section standing directly in front of you, and you manipulate them until they have to squat in front of you.

yunho is quick to decide that he will do your part, claiming that because you’re both main dancers it makes sense as well as sighting the height difference, although the height difference between you and insoo is almost negligible compared to yunho and hongjoong’s height difference, but hongjoong doesn’t put up a fight, the gaze he’d had on you at the beginning of the schedule returning with a different undertone, one you couldn’t quite put your finger on.

the choreography wasn’t particularly sexy, your group not one to lean too heavily into those kinds of concepts, but it was certainly powerful and this particular song made you feel confident, considering you got to be center for the point.

you blame hongjoong’s shift on your own perception, but his gaze certainly reignites the buzz in your stomach, now fully formed into butterflies whose wings brush against the inside of your ribs, longing to be released.

you try to shake it off and step into teaching mode, familiar comfort seeping into you as you take on the most usual role for yourself. you quickly teach yunho your part, and as expected he catches on quickly, and insoo tries to demonstrate what hongjoong should do as best they can, although their part is hard to describe as insoo often goes off of your energy and cues.

when he stumbles out of the ending squat to fall on his butt all three of you that are standing are quick to rush over to him but he just chuckles in slight embarrassment before picking himself up and you all laugh together.

“hm what about you try it with him and i can do it with yunho,” insoo suggests quickly, looking like they just thought of the best solution to hongjoong’s learning difficulties.

you’re a little surprised but agree nonetheless as yunho adds that he’s sure his hyung would be fine with that, but once hongjoong is standing right in front of you it’s not so much hongjoong you’re worried about.

you try to back up a bit, trying to give yourself a bit of distance between you two, but are quick to realize that the choreography won’t work if you’re any further apart and so just as you take a step toward the man in front of you he also takes one into you, realizing that you had both started to get too close to the table now behind him.

your hands are quick to come up to his chest before you can fully fall into him and you jump back as quickly as you can, pulling your hands away as though he burned you.

the same look of shock as when you’d come up behind him during the break is present on hongjoong’s face, and he’s glad there are no cameras that face him right now to see it, but all you can pay attention to is the warmth that you had felt on your palms at the contact between you two.

the whole interaction had felt to you like it was minutes long but in reality it was barely a couple seconds, and you’re once again trying to slip back into the dance teacher role as well as you can when you’re so acutely aware of how close hongjoong is to you in this moment. you can just smell the fading cologne he’d applied earlier in the day, a mix of linen and leather that feels like it turns your brain to mush as you try to remember what you were supposed to be doing with him standing in front of you like this in the first place.

his surprise melts to a look of concern as he sees you shake your head, hoping to clear your thoughts as though they were being physically blocked by all your senses screaming hongjoong.

“so you start like this,” you supply quickly, trying to ignore the way hongjoong won’t drop the worried expression from his face.

you need to move quickly, the man in front of you is starting to make you feel dizzy and you aren’t sure your company, or your members, would enjoy you passing out for seemingly no reason while on a live program.

normally when you dance this part, you make full contact with your member but you can’t bring yourself to touch hongjoong completely, partially fearing you won’t want to let go once you do. instead you ghost your hands along the places you might normally drag them and float over the places you might normally grab.

as you move him slowly into the final positioning you’re realizing that it may have been more torturous to avoid touching him then to just give in to your desire to connect with him, every time your skin makes the lightest contact sending a jolt up through your arms and your breath catching in your throat, if for a moment.

“so that’s it,” you nod, trying not to sound as breathless as you feel and hongjoong looks up at you almost expectantly. you’re waiting for him to move, looking back down at him, and you feel his gaze almost peering through you, like he can see every deep breath you’re taking to try to calm your heart, like he knows exactly how you’ve felt for the past few minutes as you tried to teach him the movement, like he knows exactly what he does to you.

it’s kind of funny how you could feel so small compared to a man that you’re currently looking down on but it’s kim hongjoong who’s looking back up at you, in your clouded brain it seems to make sense.

you’re not sure who speaks up but you hear yunho and insoo moving next to you, although the dull ringing in your ears hasn’t fully subsided. you feel yourself, as though in a daze, move away from hongjoong, something you’re not actually sure you even want to do but your body has decided for you.

as insoo reclaims their place in front of you, you’re suddenly aware of the fact that you’d had that entire encounter with hongjoong in front of, not just your friends, but your fans, your managers, and several live cameras. you feel redness creeping up to consume almost your entire face and you’re glad insoo is blocking you. they give you a slight look of concern and you just clear your throat, pushing the thoughts of hongjoong down until they meet the butterflies in the pit of your stomach, taking a breath to urge them to calm down as well.

the rest of idol radio seems to pass in a blur. you’re even more distant than when you were lost in your thoughts earlier, although this time it seems as though your mind is absolutely blank. if you had wanted it to shut up before, now you’re wishing for it to just go, the image of hongjoong squatting in front of you the only thing you can seem to focus on.

you don’t fully come back to your senses until you’re sat in the car that’s set to take you, and your members, back to your dorm, your schedules for the day complete, and although you thought that distance may have aided your situation you were certainly wrong. your mind has taken to replaying the moment you’d shared with him over and over, not sparing a single detail and you feel as though you’re reliving the interaction again as you practically sense the heat radiating from his skin under your fingertips.

“are you, like, good?” star asks, placed once again right next to you. you look at them with what you hope is a convincing smile as you nod gently, before turning back to watch seoul pass in a blur through the window.

that night, you and your members, seven in total, gather to eat the takeout your manager had ordered as congratulations on a good day of promotions and suddenly you feel several pairs of eyes on you.

“what?” you ask, looking between all the members that weren’t currently too focused on their food.

“what was that between you and hongjoong?” insoo asks with a smirk, noddles almost forgotten on their plate.

“what was what?” you ask, trying to will the blush that creeps up your neck away.

insoo rolls their eyes in response, seeing right through your act and very clearly remembering what they had seen when they were stood right in front of you.

“y/n’s crushing on hongjoong,” star sings cheerily before someone’s foot, likely eunjae’s, makes contact with their shin under the table and they hiss.

you scoff at the statement, trying to play dumb to the way all your members were clearly seeing through you. “i do not,” you state indignantly, taking a big bite of your food as you glare at star.

“whatever you say,” star shrugs, a teasing smirk on their face.

luckily the conversation is quick to shift away from you and you’re able to enjoy your meal without any more interrogation.

later that night, as you prepare for bed, you hear a gentle knock on your bedroom door and open it to find nuri.

“hey, what’s up?” you ask, noticing they’re already dressed for bed.

“here,” they say, holding a piece of paper out which you take from their hand with some hesitancy.

“thanks?” you state, although it’s more of a question as you wonder what’s on the slip of paper now in your possession.

“hongjoong’s kakao id,” they say with a nod toward the paper and you blush, clearing your throat quickly. “it’s fine to have a crush by the way,” they continue and your face only grows warmer. “i’d just appreciate it if you'd tell me if you end up dating. easier for me to help.”

you don’t say anything as you just nod your head in understanding, closing your door quickly and pressing your face into your hands in embarrassment.

you place the slip onto your desk, glad in moments like these that you got the only solo room, and debate about adding him. i mean, you hadn’t spoken more than a few sentences to each other, but what could really be the worst that could happen?

you try not to think about how nuri got his id, wondering if maybe they already knew each other and praying they hadn’t asked him for it just for you today, as you add him on your kakaotalk, tossing around ideas of opening messages. eventually you settle on a simple “hi, this is y/n” and send it quickly before you can overthink.

you don’t expect a reply immediately, noting how late it is, but almost as soon as you lock your phone the screen is lighting up with a message back.

hongjoong: hi

hongjoong: i wasn’t sure you were actually going to text me

hongjoong: i mean i know you told me you weren’t uncomfortable but still

a smile stretches across your lips as you realize hongjoong gave his id to nuri to give to you specifically and you scold yourself for being so out of it that he couldn’t give it to you directly.

you: i meant it when i said i was flattered

you: it’s a huge compliment to be admired by someone like you

you try to err on the side of caution. maybe he just wanted to talk to you about work, music and dance, so you tried not to be too informal, ateez and hongjoong being your senior. although you did try to hint that you were interested past a professional, and even platonic, relationship, but it had certainly been a while since you’d flirted with anyone, outside of fan service.

hongjoong: i wanted to ask you something

you: ask away

hongjoong: we have a new song coming out soon and i wondered if you’d be interested in doing the dance challenge for it

hongjoong: with me

you could feel the butterflies awaken inside of you once more, excited at the prospect of being able to see him again and the fact that he asked you specifically about doing the challenge.

you: i’d love to

you: just text me

with your agreement you both wrap up the conversation, bidding each other good night, and you go to bed with your thoughts full of hongjoong and stomach full of butterflies.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

the rest of your own promotional period flies by, successful and rewarding as the support from your fans results in several music show wins and lots of recognition from all over the world. the whole time you try to focus more on work than your recently budding friendship with the leader of ateez, but it’s hard when you find yourself just as excited to end your day and finally be able to message him as you do when you can see your fans or perform. your members have certainly noticed a change in your demeanor, eager to shut yourself in your room to be alone, and some fans have commented about how happy you’ve seemed lately. luckily, your interaction from idol radio is barely recognized, only a few of the usual shippers making theories about your or hongjoong’s behavior that other fans are quick to brush off as a reach.

hongjoong: happy last day of promotions! i hope your schedules go well today

he doesn’t normally text you in the morning but you’d been telling him the night before about it being your last day to promote your comeback and so you check the timestamp on the message to find it was sent around 3am, probably when he managed to actually get to bed considering he’d told you he was working in the studio on ateez’s next comeback.

you shoot him a thank you text back, doubting he’ll see it until he wakes up a little later in the day, and get ready to head out for your schedule.

you were performing on the show again today, a music show that one of hongjoong’s members, yeosang, was an mc on. you didn’t even think much of the fact as you arrived and got ready with your styling team, having interacted with yeosang as an mc during this promotional period already. although as you sat in the hair and makeup chair, ready for the usual routine, a light knock sounded against the door of your dressing room.

after a quick check that everyone was decent, nuri approached the door. you couldn’t see who was on the other side, nuri discussing something with them and bowing as you assume the other person handed them a plastic bag.

you were slightly confused, none of your members or staff having ordered delivery, as nuri closed the door, taking a peek into the plastic bag before heading in your direction.

“here,” they said as they placed the bag onto your lap and you gave them a questioning glance.

“what’s this?”

“from yeosang who said it’s from a friend,” they explain with a wink and you try not to blush at the implication.

nuri walks away without saying anything else and you glance into the bag, seeing a few of the snacks you’d mentioned craving to hongjoong just last night. you push around the items and find a little note, similar to that which had held his id on it, and open it in the bag to avoid suspicion from those around you.

i know how hard it can be to eat during schedules so i hope this can help. good luck today, text me when you win

you try to ignore the way your heart picks up at the thought of him caring this much for you but it’s hard when you know that you’re already so infatuated with him. his confidence in you and your group was also just so heartwarming, something that was certainly making you fall deeper for the man you’d so recently grown attached to.

you munch on the gift as your hair gets styled, a smile unable to leave your face as you debate texting him to thank him. unfortunately you don’t get a chance as you’re thrown into the whirlwind of performing and preparing for a potential encore stage, your group loving to do silly little things for starlight whenever you win.

of course, like most times, hongjoong is right and your group wins for the final time this comeback, celebrating on stage with your fans and members. throughout your encore, your mind drifts to hongjoong, how you can text him and celebrate together.

as soon as all of your members arrive to your dorm, shoes discarded in the entranceway and takeout being served on the table, there’s a sudden ring of the doorbell and half of you freeze. the other half continue on with their tasks as nuri offers to get the door, handing off the serving task to insoo who is more than happy to take responsibility.

“y/n!” nuri calls from the door only a moment later and a few of your members give you a confused look as you shrug and make your way to your leader.

“yeah?” you ask as you approach, turning the corner to see two bouquets, not too large but very beautiful, in nuri’s grasp, the front door closing as you assume the delivery driver leaves.

“this is for you,” nuri says with a grin and you don’t keep the surprise from your features as they hand you the smaller of the two pieces, noting that they are your favorite flowers and spotting the little card in the center.

y/n,

congratulations on your win today. you always look so beautiful when you dance.

hj <3

you don’t try to hide the blush that blooms over your cheeks, your mind hyper focused on the little heart at the end of the message, and turn to nuri.

“what does that one say?” you ask, gesturing to the other bouquet that contains a mix of flowers with your group’s official colors.

nuri turns the bunch to you so that you can read the card.

eclipse,

congratulations on a successful comeback,

ateez

you nod as you turn back to the flowers in your hands, nuri pushing past you to join the other members in the kitchen. you can hear them explain who the flowers are from and mentally thank nuri when they don’t mention your personal bunch.

you manage to sneak the flowers to your room before you head back out to the table for dinner, shooting hongjoong a picture and a quick thank you.

hongjoong: i’m glad you like them

hongjoong: and i meant it, you looked breathtaking today

you suppress your smile as you read his response, trying not to catch the attention of any of your members, but you glance up to see nuri looking at you with a knowing, if not approving, smile.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

you’ve been following ateez a little more closely now, their newest comeback, bouncy, releasing just last week and doing amazingly on the charts. you’d been sending hongjoong little things like snacks, coffee, and meals to keep him motivated and show your support and he’d been showing his appreciation by sending you pictures of him eating or just selfies of him during schedules.

you were certain that your relationship was headed in a more romantic direction as you both became more bold in your texts. you’d also begun video calling when you were able, sometimes just doing your own things while you were on a call together.

you were eager to possibly try taking the next step and actually go out on a date but with ateez still in the midst of promotion you understood that hongjoong’s free time was limited. so you left it up to him, not pressuring hongjoong by asking him out or even alluding to wanting to date.

“do you know the challenge or do you want me to teach you?” hongjoong had asked one night when you were on video call.

he’d brought up your promise from months ago to do the challenge and you assured him that you were still interested.

“i mean i sort of know it just from watching it a bunch, but if you want to teach me i’m not opposed,” you said with a cheeky shrug and hongjoong grinned.

“i don’t have to teach you babe,” he says with a light chuckle that sends a shiver down your spine.

that was another thing that had started recently, the pet names. hongjoong had accidentally referred to you as “babe” over text one time, rushing to apologize when you had taken just a second too long to respond, but you assured him that you weren’t upset just trying to be able to actually think again when the name had short circuited your brain.

“fine,” you said with a roll of your eyes. “i want you to teach me,” you admit with a slight wine. “there, happy?”

he chuckles again with a nod and an “okay” before you’re setting up the best day for you to meet at the kq company building, having to end the call soon after so that he can actually get some sleep.

the next few days have you on edge as you anticipate being able to see hongjoong in person for the first time since your appearance on idol radio. you even plan your outfit a day in advance, feeling almost like you’re going on a first date as you ensure your hair and makeup are perfect.

“have fun,” nuri says with a knowing wink as you leave your dorm and you don’t give them your normal embarrassed look, too focused on the excitement of seeing hongjoong.

you arrive at the kq building right on time, a staff member greeting you in the lobby and taking you to the practice room where you’ll be doing the challenge. you’d seen this same room plenty before on video, ateez dance practices being one of the few contents you’d watched before getting to know hongjoong.

“he should be here in a second,” the staff says, glancing at her phone, and you nod with a grin.

“its fine,” you assure. “thank you.”

just as you start to observe the room a little more, looking around and comparing it to your own practice room, the door opens and hongjoong enters.

even though you’d seen him on your screen almost everyday for the past week, nothing can compare to the way he looks in person, especially since he’d changed his look. atiny had been going crazy over his newly silver hair and you were no different, texting him how much you loved it as soon as you found out.

“hi,” he says with a smile as soon as he spots you.

you reach out your hand and repeat his greeting, bowing as you shake hands to imitate a sense of formality in front of the staff member.

you don’t want to let go of his hand but you pull away anyway, taking a step back to put some distance between you two and hoping to calm the urge that bubbles in your chest to take him into your arms.

“so, would you like for me to teach you the challenge?” he asks and you bite the inside of your cheek to stop the laugh that builds in your throat at the question, knowing you’d already asked him to teach it to you a few days ago.

“yes please,” you nod and hongjoong gestures so that you can move toward the mirror.

honestly, the choreography is pretty easy to pick up, especially since you’ve watched it so many times already, but you relish in the way hongjoong watches you and decide to just mess around with him a little. it couldn’t hurt to ask a few questions you already knew the answer to right?

“so, is it here or out here?” you ask with an innocent quirk of your brow, placing your left hand out, palm flat and moving it back and forth between two positions.

you see hongjoong’s eyes narrow just slightly, as he had clearly seen you get it right the first time, and you know he’s picking up on your little game. his eyes flick to the staff member in the room, noting that she’s on her phone in the corner, looking away, before he takes a step toward you.

instead of just answering your question he reaches around you, keeping his body on your right and wrapping his left arm around your back to grasp your elbow. he moves your arm into the proper place and you feel his other hand place itself on your waist. as you try to focus on anything but the way his fingers press into your skin he leans his head down slightly, enough so that you can feel his breath ghosting over the shell of your ear and across your cheek.

his proximity has your heart pounding and you almost hope he can hear it, wanting him to know that what he’s doing is working. you want him to know that this is exactly what you wanted, that you wish this is how close you could have him all the time.

“right here,” he says, barely a whisper, and just as you start to lean into him, longing to be completely consumed by his warmth, he steps away and his presence is replaced by the cool air that blows through the vent above you.

you clear your throat as you try to shake away the lingering warmth his touch left against your skin and slow your heartbeat as you go back to rehearsing the movements, for real this time.

you try to ignore the smirk that paints his face as he watches you practicing, a blush painting your own cheeks that starts to match his the longer he stares.

“okay, i think i got it,” you say after a few more rounds of practice. “what do you want to do for the outro?” you ask. “or do you just want to end it after the ‘fly’?”

you turn to hongjoong who looks around the room in thought.

“we could do the ending pose from moonbeam,” he suggests, referring to the title track you’d been promoting on idol radio, and you’re taken aback for a moment.

you’re not so much shocked that he would suggest something to do with your group but that he would choose that pose specifically. it would normally involve you and eclipse’s main vocalist, gam, standing while everyone else sat around you, leaning on each other. you and gam would be staring just past each other as your right arms were tangled in front of you in a sort of love shot position.

“oh, sure,” you say taking a moment to picture you and hongjoong in that position and your blush darkens. “i guess.”

“we don’t have to,” he says, sensing your hesitation. “we can do something else.”

you shake your head as you reassure him, “no, no, it’s fine.”

hongjoong just nods and you run through the challenge once more, practicing the final pose as well and trying to not let the proximity that the pose forces you into affect your face, of course you have no control over how it affects your heart and mind.

“great,” he says, mostly to himself, before calling over the staff member who directs you where to stand and prepares the shot.

the shooting of the challenge itself goes well, you both switching easily into professional mode even if you can see his eyes watching you through the mirror the whole time. you do a few takes, allowing the company to pick whichever they deem best, before you’re done and thanking hongjoong and the staff member for their time.

“oh,” hongjoong perks up before you can begin to head out. “i got you a thank you gift for doing the challenge but i left it in my studio.” he turns to the staff member and asks, “would you mind going to grab it?”

she nods before making her way out of the room, leaving you and hongjoong alone.

your eyes follow her as she leaves but before you can even turn back to hongjoong he’s pulled you into a hug, arms wrapped securely around your waist as he looks into your eyes.

“hi,” he greets with a chuckle, absolutely beaming as you snake your hands around his shoulders.

you giggle in response, your expression mirroring his own, as you finally get to see him how you wish you had for the entire time you’d been in his presence.

“i’ve been waiting to do this for the last half hour,” he says, practically reading your mind.

“so do you actually have a thank you gift or was that just an excuse?” you ask with a tick of your head to the door where the staff member had disappeared.

he looks almost offended as you ask, a humorous disbelief shining in his eyes. “of course i have a gift,” he says and you can hear a slight whine lacing his tone.

“of course,” you say with a chuckle and a shake of your head.

“i would’ve invited you to lunch but the staff would’ve been suspicious,” he adds, “so this is the next best option.”

“i can feed myself you know,” you joke, truly more than happy to have hongjoong buy you meals.

“not if i can help it,” he insists, wrapping his arms tighter and pulling you closer.

you don’t fight against him, your chests now pressed together as you simply wade in the comfort that surrounds you both.

you debate about leaning in and pressing a kiss to his cheek, wanting to feel the soft skin against your lips, but you don’t. instead you let your cheek fall to his shoulder, resting your head against him and letting the scent of his cologne wash over you.

“what are you doing tomorrow?” hongjoong asks, one of his hands starting to trace along your spine, his fingertips leaving goosebumps in their wake.

“mm,” you hum in thought as you try to remember your schedule. “we have shooting until five and then eunjae wants to watch a new movie,” you say before lifting your head from his shoulder. “why?”

he lets out a breath and his hand comes to a stop on your back, both of his hands gently holding either side of your waist. the smile he gives you seems nervous now, not quite reaching his eyes.

“i wanted to ask if you’d like to get dinner with me tomorrow night,” he explains with a gentle squeeze of your hips. “but if you’re busy we can do it a different night.”

you shake your head quickly, face red and smile as wide as your lips can manage. “eunjae can wait one more day for that movie,” you giggle and watch as his own smile grows.

his hands move from your waist and you start to pull your own arms away when his palms are suddenly on your cheeks, holding your face, and your own hands fly up to cup his. neither of you speak as you glide your hands down to wrap your fingers around his wrist gently, his thumbs brushing against your cheeks as his eyes flick between your own.

“can i kiss you?” he asks, trying to see any form of discomfort that might appear on your expression.

“yes,” you respond and before you even finish he’s bringing you into him, lips pressing against your own as softly as he can.

it barely lasts a second before he’s pulling away, his eyes once again searching your own for any hint as to how you’re feeling.

“again?” he asks with a smirk when he notices your lips still puckered and chasing his.

he doesn’t wait for your response this time, diving back into you with an eagerness that challenges your own.

his lips move in sync with yours, one of his hands shifting to the side of your neck and the pads of his fingers pressing into the skin there, sending a shiver down your spine that you're sure he notices by the way you feel him smile against your lips. hongjoong hums gently, the sound vibrating from his own chest to yours and causing you to melt into him further.

you try to pour all of your appreciation for him into the kiss, desperately grasping onto his biceps like he might just vanish at any moment. you hope that he can understand just what you’re trying to tell him, that in this moment, and every moment you’ve shared, he’s made you feel normal. when you were with him, talking to him, you weren’t an idol and neither was he, you were both just you, human and flawed, and in love.

he pulls away after a moment more, placing a few light pecks against your lips before separating completely, and you try to chase his lips again but his hold on your cheek keeps you in place. instead, he presses his forehead against your own, eyes closed as he focuses on steadying his breathing while you flit your gaze around his face, trying to commit each feature to memory.

after what feels like an hour of just existing in the comfortable silence that has engulfed you both, hongjoong pulls away from you, his eyes opening slowly as his hands return to your waist, your own grip on his arms loosening.

“so tomorrow?” he asks, biting his lip before you bring your thumb up to pull the flesh from between his teeth and he places a gentle peck against your finger.

“it’s a date,” you confirm, leaning in to place a lingering kiss to the corner of his mouth.

he smiles and says, “i’ll text you,” before he takes a few steps back, forcing you both to separate and you immediately miss him even though he’s still stood right in front of you.

only a moment later the staff member from earlier is stepping back into the room, carrying a bag of your favorite delivery food and making a beeline to you.

you bow in thanks when she hands it to you before doing the same to hongjoong, showing your formal appreciation for the gesture, and the staff member is offering to guide you out of the building.

you’re quick to bid hongjoong goodbye, worrying that you might never leave him unless you go now, and the staff leads you back out the way you came in.

as soon as you make it back to your dorm you feel your phone buzz in your pocket, a text from hongjoong lighting up the screen.

hj<3: can i officially say i’m dating my bias?

↼ ateez masterlist

note this started as delusional texts in the group chat based on the specific instagram photos in the header and turned into this

tell me your thoughts

eclipse playlist

a playlist of songs inspired by the group from this fic in the ateez x idol!reader universe

⇀ red moon - kard

⇀ lilili yabbay - seventeen

⇀ 4walls - f(x)

⇀ invu - taeyeon

⇀ blue hour - txt

⇀ candy - baekhyun

⇀ save - nct 127 x amoeba culture

⇀ last sequence - wjsn

⇀ we must love - onf

⇀ my universe - bts x coldplay

line a

when did you start to have feelings for the cute stranger on your morning commute and how are you going to be able to tell him?

⇀ pairing yunho x reader

⇀ genre fluff, angst, strangers 2 lovers

⇀ style one-shot

⇀ word count 4k

⇀ warnings food, yunho cries

⇀ reactions from the gc “Okay but why do I have tears in my eyes” “I feel all warm and toasty inside” “I had a lovely time”

note sorry if you hate brown sugar oatmilk lattes, cinnamon sugar bagels, pastries in general, or sushi

getting a new position in your company meant better pay, a new office, and different work hours. you were happy for the shift in your routine, feeling like you were starting to become a part of some machine, but you were honestly happier for the shift in your commute time.

your old hours always had you riding the train at the busiest times, shoved into a car with a collection of other desk workers like a bunch of sardines, and over the years you’d grown used to not being able to find a seat or even have any form of personal space. you’d always accepted it as a necessary evil that just accompanied getting to work at a prestigious corporation in the city but now, climbing into a train car that was next to empty, you were regretting ever settling for less.

you’d quickly grown into a routine with these new hours, grabbing an iced brown sugar oatmilk latte from the cafe on the corner of the station entrance before your train, spending the 30-ish minute ride sipping and reading a few pages from the book you’d purchased most recently, and then using the extra time before work started to grab a cinnamon sugar bagel from the bakery a block away from the company, unless the pastry of the day was particularly appealing in which case you’d grab two of those.

of the people who took the train at the same time as you, there were always a few regulars mixed in with the random passengers. the old lady, you’d lovingly nicknamed mrs. blue, was an every day passenger. she’d already be on the train when you would board, sat in the farthest corner of the car, with a collection of different knit items on her lap, some incomplete and often actively being worked on during the ride. she wore a different blue shirt every day, and although you were months into this new routine she hadn’t repeated any yet. she would get off exactly three stops before you, taking her time to gather her knits as the doors opened and although you worried that one day the doors would close before she made it onto the platform she hadn’t missed her stop yet.

probably the most recent regular you noticed was someone you’d called the flash to your roommate and the name just stuck. he would board one stop after yours, always arriving at the platform at the same time as the train. he’d take about a minute to look at all the free seats on the train but after what seemed like a heavy debate with himself, one where he would gesture subtly with his hands and mutter quietly under his breath, he would take the same seat he’d taken yesterday, and the day before, and every day as long as you’d been riding this line. he would get off a stop before your own and just as with his arrival, his form would disappear from the platform in tandem with the train’s departure.

of course the most interesting of all the passengers, and the first regular you’d noticed, was a man that both boarded and exited the train at the same stops as you. he was tall, you’d estimate around six feet, and although he’d seemed intimidating as you’d stood on the departure platform for the first time since your change in work hours, he sent you a smile that simply melted away all of your worries when he’d caught your eyes flickering toward him cautiously.

he was always waiting at the platform before you, no matter how early you were to the station, and he always wore one wireless earbud. if it was in the right ear he was obviously on a call, talking and laughing with someone he’d called mingi. if it was in the left ear he was silent and you assumed he was just listening to something, likely music or an audiobook. however, no matter which ear was occupied he would always greet you with a warm smile and a slight nod when you would saddle up next to him on the platform.

you’d tried to parse his reasons for taking the train so often and so regularly but it was next to impossible to be sure when he was always dressed so casually and never carried the same items. some days he’d be weighed down by a backpack that looked like it was holding several concrete bricks while other days he’d have nothing but his phone in his hand. every few days he’d have a different bag of takeout food, though the only repeat container was from a thai place you’d googled one day after noticing him carrying a bag with the same logo for the fourth time.

when you both would leave the train after arriving at your stop, you would cross paths, each of you having exited the door of the car opposite to the direction you would head to leave the platform. at first he would just give you another smile and nod but about a month into this routine he’d escalated to telling you to “have a good day” to which you’d return a quick “you too”.

the train on the way home from work held a different set of regulars, a slightly younger and more rowdy collection, but after a couple months into this new pattern you would find your mind wandering away from the words on the page in front of you to the man from your morning ride.

he was certainly attractive, a sharp jaw that complimented sculpted cheeks, a nose that perfectly defined his side profile, and eyes that would crinkle up whenever he would laugh or smile. speaking of his laugh, you’d noticed he had a habit of tilting his head back when he would find something particularly amusing, a tendency that had caused him to bump his head against the wall of the train car behind him several times. each time this accident had occurred, you would dip your own head, lips pressed together in an attempt to suppress the enamored giggles that would bubble into your throat. after you managed to calm yourself, you’d take a peek in the man’s direction to find a light blush dusted over the apples of his cheeks and along the tops of his ears, eyes flicking toward you before his ears would transition to an even darker shade of red and he would hide his own shy giggles behind his hand, his gaze shifting to the train floor.

your routine became familiar after a few months, comfortable even. it gave you a sense of security, knowing that he’ll always be there.

of course that means that the one day you arrive at the station and he’s not stood in his usual spot on the platform you can almost feel the universe poking a hole through your bubble. it lets in a little bit of something that anyone else might recognize as disappointment, but to you it feels heavier. it’s painted with a hint of worry, and you itch to check the time on your phone every few seconds just to triple and quadruple check that you’re not running behind. you try to ignore the way his absence has thrown you off but as you take a sip of your latte it almost feels like even your drink tastes different.

you board the train when it arrives as you would every other time but even mrs. blue seems to notice the lack of your usual companion, pausing a moment in the middle of a stitch with yarn tangled between her fingers, before she returns to her own routine. similarly, the flash takes twice as long to choose his usual seat, eyes lingering on where the man would usually have been sitting before he moves about his day as normal.

your book seems even less interesting today, the story dragging on as the author tries to build suspense that you just can’t seem to bring yourself to focus on. instead, you wonder if he’s okay, you hope he is, dwelling on all of the possible reasons he could have missed the train, because that’s what you assume he did. he must have missed it, his alarm this morning not waking him or construction making him change his usual path to the station. of all the possibilities for his absence, you in no way consider the reality that approaches as you hop off at your usual stop.

he makes his way through the door he would normally exit, boarding the car instead, with a woman following close on his heels. their hands are connected, fingers intertwined, as he pulls her toward his usual seat on the train and he wears the same light blush as when he’d hit his head on the wall. he looks happy and you want to breathe a sigh of relief that he’s okay, but your body refuses to relax at the sight, your stomach turning and heart clenching as you see her beam up at him.

neither of them take any notice of you, too enraptured in the little bubble surrounding them as you make your way toward the rest of your day. something in the back of your mind tells you that you’re not going to have a very good one.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

your day isn’t too extraordinary, the usual tasks and duties taking up your work time, but every so often your mind will drift, as it usually does, to your train companion. unfortunately, instead of the standard admirations of the way he’d worn his hair that day or the opinions on the conversation that you’d parsed from hearing just his half of the phone call, your thoughts seem to be stuck on the way her hand had been firmly captured in his own and the way his eyes had lit up when the woman on his arm had laughed.

as the weeks go on, and his appearances on the train become more infrequent and completely changed by the girl that seems to be his world, you start to consider that this may be your new normal. maybe a regular has shifted into the crowd.

you feel something inside yourself shift in response to this new situation and you try not to harp on it. however, how are you supposed to reconcile something that you weren’t even aware had been happening. when had the boy stood on the platform turned into a crush?

it felt childish to admit, falling for a relative stranger, but it felt even more foolish to realize that she must have been his reason for all those months. that girl was why he took the train, why he was always punctual and bright. maybe you’d purposely ignored the signs, the occasional bouquet and the mention of a jiyoung when on a call, or maybe you’d been too caught up in your own interest, in your own feelings, to realize that he was only a stranger. you didn’t even know his name.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

you’re not even sure how long it had been since you’d seen him on the platform as you approached, your latte in your hand and steps stuttering as you realized that he was there. he looked nice today, more dressed up than you think you'd ever seen him. black tie neat and blazer crisp as he shifted from foot to foot almost nervously. it was hard not to notice the bouquet in his arms, a collection of several different pink flowers wrapped neatly in brown paper, and the container of food from that thai place. you could reason to guess that it was likely her favorite, the portions he’d carried had always been suspiciously small for someone of his stature but you’d never seen a need to analyze that before.

aside from the new surprise that just is seeing him on this platform and taking this train, you’re shocked to find that you can’t see an earbud in his left ear but he also doesn’t appear to be in conversation with anyone. he’s not on the phone, he’s not even reaching into his pocket for his headphones, he’s staring straight ahead at the empty tracks, almost willing the train to arrive faster.

as you approach your usual spot on the platform his eyes flick over to you, sensing movement in his peripheral. you try not to make eye contact, pulling your phone out of your pocket to appear busy.

“hi.”

of all the greetings you’ve ever shared, verbal communication was new. you weren’t anticipating any sort of recognition, as you’d stood further away from him purposely, partly in an effort to avoid any sort of interaction with him.

you didn’t respond aloud, your gaze briefly locking with his as you nod slightly before looking back to the screen of your phone.

he doesn’t seem deterred by your lack of proper response, though, as he takes a step in your direction.

“do you think this is too cheesy?”

his voice is much higher than you’ve heard it previously, when he’s talking with mingi or sending you off to have a good day, and you can hear a nervous shake in the tone.

you venture to glance back up at him, the bouquet in his hands now turned out to you so that you can see the writing on the wrapping paper.

will you be my girlfriend?

the lump that forms in your throat is involuntary and you try to swallow it away as you blink at him.

“it’s cute,” you manage after a moment, trying to avoid further discussion as you quickly return to your phone. maybe you could fish out your own headphones from the depths of your bag.

“i got her favorite too,” he explains with a lift of the takeout container, completely oblivious to the hint that you aren’t in the mood to converse. “i never really liked thai but i don’t mind.”

you bite your tongue to keep from saying anything, urging your brain to ignore the curiosity of what he would prefer instead.

you’re sure that you’ve never been more thankful for the punctuality of the train as it comes quickly into view in the next moment, screeching to a stop in front of you both and cutting off the conversation.

you notice that he makes his way to his usual spot, mrs. blue peeking at him from the corner of her eye before she returns to her latest project.

instead of your usual place, one that wasn’t directly across from him but still too close for whatever your heart was doing right now, you decide to take a different spot, one where you can convincingly be enraptured in the pages of your book while your mind takes in none of the words, too focused on the latest development with your train companion.

you try to think about anything other than the boy with the bouquet but it feels like the length of the ride that you’ve taken for months has suddenly doubled. you’re not sure the doors have ever stayed open this long at each stop, yet each platform is more unusually barren than the last, leaving the car with just the usuals occupying their spots.

at your stop, only you and him are left and you realize that in sitting further away from him you’d managed to sit closer to the door that he would normally exit, both of you almost colliding as you try to fit through the doorway and step out onto the platform.

“have a good day,” he says, and it’s not only different because it’s the first time you’d heard the phrase from him in so long but because his voice is still high and still shaky.

you take a shallow breath, trying to calm the prickling sensation that washes over your skin, and you reply, “good luck.”

you don’t stay to see his reaction, dipping your head and feet leading you in your usual direction. you don’t even realize you were practically jogging until you make it to the bakery almost 10 minutes before you normally would.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

half of your day is spent wondering how it all went for him, your regular duties not nearly as interesting as the turmoil in your heart.

your brain tells you that she obviously said yes, simply based on the brief moments you’d seen of them together, and your heart reasons that you want her to say yes, the smile that she’d put on his face when they were together absolutely mesmerizing, but somewhere deep in the pit of your stomach you wish for her to say no. you try to suppress the thought, reasoning that it wouldn’t mean you suddenly had a chance, but the jealousy only continued to fester until you realize that you’d been typing out your internal argument instead of the report you were tasked to start.

you tussle with your feelings for the rest of the day, even as you pack up and make your way to the station in order to head back home for the night. you’re almost too caught up in your head to notice a familiar bouquet in the hands of an even more familiar stranger sat on the bench just off the platform.

you pause when you first notice him, his gaze set firmly on the slightly wilted flowers, eyebrows furrowed in what appears to be a mix of thought and anger, and you try to decide what to do. you could simply walk past and pretend that you hadn’t noticed him, but as you consider that a guilt starts to replace the jealous feeling that had started to manifest earlier in the day. a voice in the back of your mind tells you that you’re responsible, you’d secretly wished for his rejection hadn’t you, but you quiet that voice as you take a deep breath and approach him.

“hi,” you chirp once you’re at the end of the bench and you realize that you don’t know what else to say. you didn’t have any kind of plan.

he looks up at you, eyes wide and a little pathetic to complement the subtle downturn of his lips. you try not to react when he notices it’s you and his expression lifts slightly before dropping back down.

“hi,” he practically whispers, the word heavy and soft as it leaves his lips.

“this seat taken?” you resist the urge to drop your face into your palm as your mouth moves before you can stop it but if he finds the phrase at all awkward he doesn’t comment, only gesturing to the empty space with his hand as a sort of invitation.

you move onto the bench, angling your body to face him and you can’t tell if you imagine him shift to match you or if he’d always been sat on an angle as his gaze moves back to the flowers.

“she said no,” he supplies with a shake of the bouquet and a few petals fall out, one landing in his lap while the rest float to the ground.

you bite your lip as your hand reaches out reflexively but you quickly pull it back in before you can pick the petal from his thigh.

“did she say why?” you ignore the thought that you may be prying, telling yourself that he’d offered the information first.

he lets out a single humorless chuckle as his eyes close. when he opens them he looks up at you once more, gaze and voice noticeably watery as he replies, “she never wanted something serious. she thought it was just always going to be casual.”

a tear makes its way past his waterline and he’s quick to wipe it away with the back of his hand before he drops his gaze to his lap, noticing the petal there and brushing it off.

you try to think of anything else to do aside from just sitting here and watching him cry when you realize that he no longer has the bag of takeout and are reminded of the question you wanted to ask him earlier in the day.

“what’s your favorite?” you ask, cringing slightly for not being clear when he looks up at you with a confused expression.

“uh, food,” you elaborate and he tilts his head slightly as though he’s never heard the question before.

he takes a moment to think, eyes fluttering around the both of you, before he says, “i guess japanese.”

you nod slowly, pursing your lips as it’s now your turn to think.

“great,” you say after a moment, rising from the bench after you check the time, “because i love sushi.”

he quirks his head at you again, this time his face scrunches up in confusion, as he watches you stand and take the bouquet from his hands. he doesn’t bother to try getting it back as you walk toward the edge of the platform, the train coming into view only a moment later.

when you notice that he hasn’t followed you, you look back at him over your shoulder.

“you’re gonna miss your train,” you call to him and he hesitantly follows as you board.

the car is empty today and you breathe a gentle sigh of relief as you anticipate your plan.

only a few seconds after you’ve taken your seat, your train companion steps into the car, still observing you with confusion, although you see a hint of amusement start to take over his features as you gesture to his usual seat.

he says nothing as he sits down, eyes fixed on you to the point that he almost misses his chair, sliding down into the seat with a soft thump.

“if you keep staring at me you’re going to make this immensely harder for me,” you say loud enough for him to hear as you look down at the bouquet in your hands. you take the edge of the brown wrapping paper into your hand, the material considerably more wrinkled than when you’d seen it earlier that day, and start to tear. luckily the writing is on the outer layer and so you can tear it off without causing the arrangement to change.

you can’t see his face but you can imagine the tilt of his head as you work to remove the phrase from the flowers, crumbling up the paper and tossing it into your bag.

as the train comes to the first stop you peek onto the platform and silently thank the universe for urging those taking the train from this station to climb into the other cars, leaving only you and your stranger sat in the plastic seats of the familiar car.

before the train can start to move again you stand, clearing your throat, and you notice him shift slightly as though preparing to get up before you take a few steps and close the distance between you.

you let out a breath as you take the seat next to him, eyes intently connected with his own, before holding the bouquet in front of him.

“hi, i’m y/n and i’ve seen you on the train before,” you start, his eyes eager and round as though trying to convey that he’s listening. “i think you’re really cute and i’d appreciate the chance to take you to din-“ you cut yourself off as you pull out your phone to check the time and you swear the corners of his lips pull up in amusement. “midnight snack,” you conclude, putting your phone away as you turn back to him.

he doesn’t say anything for a moment, eyes just looking into yours as his lips slowly part to reveal a toothy smile.

“preferably japanese,” you add to break the silence, the words barely audible.

without breaking eye contact he takes the bouquet from your hand, his fingers brushing against your own and causing a heat to climb the back of your neck.

“hi,” he starts, placing the bouquet onto the seat on the other side of him, “i’m yunho and i’ve seen you on the train before. i think you’re very cute and i’d be happy to get a midnight snack with you.”

you try to keep the blush from spreading to your cheeks but you give up as you notice yunho’s own ears and face growing pink.

“i just have one condition,” he adds and you cock your head in confusion.

“the snack has to be japanese.”

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note idk why but i just apparently feel the need to romanticize public transit AGAIN

let me know what you thought?

ateez members reaction to you crying at a movie

⇀ genre fluff, comfort, dusting of angst

⇀ style reactions/headcanons

⇀ warnings crying obvi, physical comforting (hugs, hand holding, rubbing back/thigh, wiping tears)

note so me and the bestie saw the barbie movie and i cried so much and so this was born

seonghwa

goes to grab your hand the second he notices you sniffling or wiping your cheeks

he’ll give your hand gentle squeezes as he just lets you feel your emotions out

tears up from watching you cry but doesn’t fully cry with you because he’s focused on being your stability through the moment

might ask you if you want to talk about it after but also might not address it unless you bring it up first, especially if you don’t behave particularly sad once the movie ends

hongjoong

hands you way too many tissues and ends up making you laugh while he blushes

he was just trying to be helpful

his eyes will keep switching between the screen and your face as he decides whether he should pull you into a hug or hold your hand or just let you cry it out

if you cry particularly hard he will pull you into his chest and rub your back soothingly

will absolutely ask you about it after and keep a close eye on you even if you’re perfectly fine

yunho

starts crying with you almost immediately, just seeing you cry makes him want to cry

pulls you into a big bear hug and might even pull you to sit on his lap

is wiping your tears away with his hands and doesn’t even touch his own, although he’d find it very sweet if you wipe his away in return

he will say something after but not ask you about it, just addressing it so you know you can talk if you want but don’t have to

yeosang

he knew you were going to cry and already had tissues held out in his hands for you as soon as your first tears fall

will trail a comforting hand along your spine gently to soothe you, may even trace some shapes or words onto your back with his fingers

if it’s toward the beginning or middle of the movie, he’ll have your hand in his for the rest of the film

asks if you’re okay after but doesn’t press you to talk about it in detail if you don’t want to

san

crying with you part 2

partly because of the movie and partly because you’re crying

rests his head on your shoulder and passes you a tissue while he uses one himself

will become super cuddly and clingy, not wanting to let go of you as he basically wraps himself around one of your arms

he’ll want to talk about it after, more for himself, wanting to relate to you about how sad that part was

mingi

honestly freezes at first and panics internally a bit

frantically digging for tissues and uses them to wipe your tears for you

eventually you’ll have to take the tissues from him if you actually want to see the movie because his face and hand will be blocking the screen

watching you out of the corner of his eye for the rest of the film and placing his hand on your thigh to give you some comforting rubs with his thumb

he absolutely asks if you’re okay after even if you’ve already explained that you’re fine

wooyoung

might not notice at first and then when he does his reaction will depend on how serious you are

he’ll start by teasing you a bit, asking if you’re really crying, and if you laugh or jokingly respond to him he’ll continue to tease you about it while he hands you a tissue or uses the end of his sleeve to dry your tears

if you only cry harder or get a bit mad at him he’ll pull back and apologize, holding your face in his hands and using his thumbs to wipe away your tears as they fall

afterwards, he’ll continue to tease you, as long as you aren’t actually sad or hurt

if you are sad he’ll make sure you know you can talk to him about anything bothering you

jongho

lets you just cry through it, comfortingly rubbing your arm to let you know he’s there

only hands you tissues if you ask for them, otherwise he might let your tears fall to your chin before wiping them off himself

doesn’t make you hold his hand but will leave his hand out, palm up and open, for the rest of the movie if you do want to hold it

is silent after, just looking at you expectantly until you mention it but if you avoid the subject he’ll give you hints to talk about it, mentioning the scene broadly or saying something about how emotional the movie was

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birthday by ten

you give your boyfriend his final birthday gift, a performance you’re sure he’ll never forget

⇀ pairing mingi x reader

⇀ genre suggestive fluff

⇀ style one-shot

⇀ word count 2.2k

⇀ warnings reader dances suggestively, lots of touch/grabbing, kissing

note happy mingi day, i busted this little thing out for his birthday and i hope you enjoy (barely proofread so excuse that)

“i have one last gift,” you said with a tap to mingi’s shoulder as he closed the front door behind himself, toeing his shoes off and starting to bend down to help you with your own before your hand makes its way under his chin and pulls him back up.

he looks surprised when you stop him at first, face crinkled in confusion before he sees the smirk on your lips and his own features change to match yours. “which is,” he trails off and starts to lean in, lips puckered slightly as he expects for you to close the distance and give him a kiss. however, you only take a step back, fingers trailing gently down his arm before you grasp his hand and lead him further into your apartment.

his eyes never leave your form, even as you push him to sit down on the couch and try to move away from him again. he doesn’t let you at first, keeping your hand firmly enclosed in his as long as he can manage before finally allowing you to escape him.

you take a breath to push the nerves down for a moment as you make your way to the center of the room, pulling out your phone and quickly finding the app where you’d already queued up a song. you double check that you’re connected to the speaker you’d set in the living room before you’d left for dinner and place your device on top. with one last breath, and a teasing glance over your shoulder to find your boyfriend practically on the edge of his seat, you press play.

you try to ignore the way you can hear mingi suck in a sharp breath as the song starts, getting an idea of where the night is heading, and you try to keep your focus on the choreography you’d planned, with a little help from yunho and san, earlier that week. you let the music flow through you, still facing away from the man you’re putting on a show for, and gather all of the confidence that you can muster as you sway your hips to the beat, emphasizing your ass with a deliberate arch of your back.

you whip around to face mingi and the way the man is looking at you almost causes you to pause before you remember that you’re supposed to be the one seducing him, his eyes practically removing every layer of the outfit you’d worn that night for his birthday dinner. however, as much as you want to just forget the rest of your routine and indulge in your boyfriend in this moment, you don’t want to disappoint with the present you’d promised. instead, you continue with your performance, sensually lowering yourself to your knees as the lyrics of the song prompted you down, down, down. you tried to continue focusing on yourself, using your hands to run along your body until you got to your thighs, giving them a gentle slap before spreading them with a wink. if you weren’t so focused on the moves you had planned to do next you might have noticed the way mingi had seemed to stiffen, very obviously affected by the moves you were pulling off.

as the chorus of the song hits, you move onto your hands and knees, starting to crawl toward your boyfriend and now fully aware of the way he instinctively spreads his legs for you, bottom lip caught between his teeth as he watches you inch toward him. you take your time but eventually end up kneeling between his legs, placing your palms onto each of his knees and using his sturdy legs to push yourself up, being sure to arch your back so that your chest is placed perfectly into mingi’s line of sight and making him lean back. his shoulders hit the cushion behind him with an audible thump and you, partly as a reflex but mostly because you know it will continue to rile him up, use your thumb to pull your boyfriend’s bottom lip from between his teeth. the act receives the intended effect immediately, mingi releasing a shuddering whine that sends a shiver through your limbs and makes the tips of your fingers tingle.

you trail your fingertips down the side of his neck and over his collarbone, resisting the urge to grab at his collar and just pull him into a passionate kiss to break the tension. instead, you continue to move your hand to press against his chest and let out a whisper to match the lyrics that have almost become background noise to the energy between you both. you command, let’s make tonight your birthday.

as the next line mentions hands, hands, hands, you use your own to grab his and lift his arms above his head, interlocking your fingers as you climb onto his lap. your thighs press into mingi’s gently as you straddle his lap, keeping your hips raised as to not place your entire weight onto him and to raise your face above his, forcing him to tilt his head back to look up at you. you continue to lean into your boyfriend, forcing his arms back gently and making his back arch slightly. as you move forward, you start to close the distance between your faces, mingi watching you with intense interest through heavily lidded eyes.

just as your bottom lip ghosts against the delicate skin of his chin you drop your hips down, releasing your weight onto his lap, and straighten out your fingers to let your hands slip out of his. you let your hands drag down the undersides of his arms as he starts to sit back up, no longer being pressed backward into the couch, but he keeps his arms up until your palms meet his body once more, pressing into the thick muscle of his pecs as you lean in until your chests barely meet.

for a moment he brings his hands down to wrap around each of your wrists lightly but you quickly push against him and maneuver your hands to switch positions, encasing his wrists in your fingers instead. he’s pliant under you as you move his hands toward your waist and he responds immediately, holding you with a gentleness that radiates the care only mingi can express through touch alone.

you try to mimic that tenderness as you place your hands onto either side of his face, using your thumbs to run over the apples of his cheeks before pressing into the mole under his eye, a gesture you’ve done hundreds of times before as a way to silently express your love for your boyfriend. you can tell he recognizes it right away, letting a sigh release from his chest and a shiver run down his spine as he closes his eyes, giving your waist a soft squeeze in gratitude.

before either of you can get too lost into the moment, you are pulling away from him, moving back into the center of the room to dance along as the chorus begins again.

being the more choreographed part of the routine, you opt to avoid looking at mingi for fear that his pointed gaze will make you freeze up once again. rather, you choose to keep your gaze on the floor or your hands, hoping that the decision comes off as sultry and mysterious instead of shy or intimidated.

the bridge approachs quicker than you anticipate and soon your eyes are flicking up to meet mingi’s as you bring a hand up, curling a finger toward yourself as you ask for his full attention as though his focus has been anywhere but you for the last two minutes and twenty seconds. however, with the outfit you’d worn to dinner tonight, his attention has been on you more than anything else for most of the night.

you can see the hesitation behind his eyes as he debates whether you’re asking him to actually approach you or simply keep paying attention but fortunately you answer that question for him quickly as you approach, one hand presented out in front of you for him to take and you tug gently to pull him to stand. you easily guide him to where you had been standing before and do a few seductive twirls, keeping your hands connected above your head before you let it go and release them to make your way behind him.

for a moment you don’t do anything, letting the tension simmer as the music builds, and mingi’s head turns out of curiosity. he tries to peek at you out of the corner of his eye, wondering what exactly you’re up to, right as the breakdown begins and your arms wrap around his waist, hands splayed on the fronts of his hips and moving down over the tops of his thighs.

he jumps slightly at the surprise contact, his head whipping down to watch your hands on his body.

“relax,” you breath as you notice how tense he is, muscle under your fingers held tight.

you hear him exhale and notice the way his back moves, his shoulders lowering as he tries to just enjoy the moment.

you continue to run your hands down as far as you can reach without bending your knees, your chest flush against his broad back for a moment too long before you pull your hands back up, passing where they had begun and ending up caressing his abdomen. once again, he tenses a bit, although before you can mention his reaction, he’s relaxing, head tilting back slightly and you assume he closes his eyes.

your lips stretch into a smile at his reaction and you run your nails over his abs, opening your arms to drag along the thin fabric of his dress shirt until your reach his sides and he jerks just slightly at the gentle tickle. you chuckle quietly at his response to the touch and you can already hear the beginnings of a whine bubble in the back of his throat but you don’t give him time to release it before you’re retracting your hands and moving around to be in his line of sight once more.

you’re a little surprised mingi has managed to keep his hands to himself this whole time, remaining loose enough for you to manipulate, but you’d guess it’s mostly due to the surprise factor.

the song has started to build to the chorus for the final time and with a single hand to his chest you manage to back him up until he’s seated once more, not even bothering to fight back even though you could see his hands itching to be on you in some way.

he settles quickly, ready to see the finale of your performance, and you watch his tongue trail over his bottom lip as he gives you a thorough look up and down.

you don’t back away from him as you turn once more and decide that he’s been patient enough for the last three minutes, sitting directly onto his lap as the chorus hits and rolling your body against his. your hands search for his own and once you find them you guide them to your body, pressing them into your front as a way to prompt him to place them anywhere he’d like. immediately he holds on, kneading and stroking along your form, being sure to pay extra attention to his favorite spots, and you can’t help but let your head roll back onto his shoulder. his lips find purchase on your neck quickly, gentle kisses quickly becoming open mouthed until he’s nipping at the shell of your ear.

neither of you are focused on the music much anymore as he wraps his arms completely around you, closing the distance between your back and his front. he continues to attack your neck as your hand finds its way into his hair, tugging gently at the black and blonde strands and feeling his hot breath on your skin as a breathy moan slips past his lips. his reaction sends a shiver through you, your nerves immediately lit on fire.

“thank you,” mingi breathes out, pressing a tender kiss on your shoulder that’s so sweet it contrasts the heated energy flowing between you both.

you hum in satisfaction when he returns to nibbling at your skin, noticing the final lines of the song booming through the speaker and you somehow manage to push through the intoxicating power of your boyfriend to pry his arms off of you and stand, although he refuses to let you get far as two of his hands catch one of yours.

you don’t fight, instead simply turning to straddle his lap once again, grasp firm on his strong shoulders. his own hands find purchase on the flesh of your ass and you try not to react when he massages your cheeks.

let’s make tonight your birthday

as the final line rings out into the thick air of your apartment, you lean in, finally pressing your lips against his own and letting them move together. the kiss is electric as you finally dance together, passionate and hot.

when you break away only a moment later, mingi follows you until you’re holding his face in your hands and you can finally say what’s been on the edge of your tongue all night.

“happy birthday,” you whisper, and as soon as the words are out, he’s diving back into you, the taste of appreciation on his tongue.

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note alexa, add birthday sex by jeremih to the queue

let me know what you thought

sticky by kiss of life

you and san have been enjoying your summer fling but for his birthday the only gift he wants is for you two to last, sticking together past this casual phase

⇀ pairing san x reader

⇀ genre fluff

⇀ style one-shot

⇀ word count 1.75k

⇀ warnings kissing, allusions to hooking up, skinship, shirtless san

note happy san day, i thought i would continue the little birthday song fic theme i started with mingi last year and i also wish so badly i could be at the beach rn so here's this

the sun is still high in the sky when you open your eyes, using your hands in front of your face to shield the glare off the ocean waves as the umbrella above your head casts a shadow over your form. as you yawn and stretch, the warmth of the sand underneath the towel you're laying on trying to urge you back into your slumber, you take a brief look at your surroundings, trying to resituate yourself on the expanse of shoreline and managing to spot the recognizable silhouette of san, the man you'd come here with. you weren't sure what exactly he was doing, your eyes still adjusting to the midday light, but you didn't particularly mind, just enjoying the opportunity to admire his shirtless form from afar.

san seems to feel your gaze on him, turning away from his current focus to wave excitedly at you. you can see the silhouette of a sand structure, a bit lopsided and already crumbling, when san moves aside. a few shells shine against the sun on top of the smaller piles of sand and, once your eyes adjust, you can see a stick with some seaweed wrapped around the end sticking straight out of the largest formation. san seems extremely proud of what you imagine he'd refer to as a "sandcastle", gesturing confidently toward it.

you're not sure how to react, san awkwardly too far for you to verbally respond, but he doesn't seem to care as he immediately starts to make his way toward you, eagerly stomping through the soft sand.

"how was your nap?" he asks with a smile, collapsing unceremoniously onto the towel next to you. he leans over to give you a casual peck on your cheek and you try to ignore the flutter in the pit of your stomach. luckily the heat of the day already has your skin warm to the touch and so your blush goes unnoticed by san.

"restful," you sigh with content, "how long was i asleep?" you reach for your phone to get a look at the time.

"long enough for me to build you the perfect castle," san replies with a giggle. "move in ready," he adds with a wide smile at you, dimples on full display.

"not sure a castle is in my budget," you entertain him with a grin of your own, moving to place your phone back into your bag and rummaging around for the bottle of sunscreen, sure both of you could use a reapplication.

"well only 5 oyster shells a month for a 12 bedroom 14 bath seems like a steal to me," he reasons with a shrug, running his hand through his hair to move some of the loose strands that had been stuck to his forehead. his gaze doesn't brake away from you even as you focus your attention fulling on looking into your beach bag, a habit of his you've begun to notice even more recently as you both spend increasing time together.

"why wouldn't you live there too? sure is a lot of bedrooms for just one person," you comment without much thought at the nature of the remark. 

san doesn't immediately respond and his silence causes you to bring your attention back to the man sat next to you. he seems to be trying to avoid your own gaze, looking back toward the main land where food trucks and sweet treat stands line the pavement. he seems suddenly more thoughtful, smile gone and eyes narrowed, and you notice the red glow of his cheeks, trying to distinguish if it's simply from his time in the sun but you don't get a chance to comment on it as he's suddenly standing.

"i'm in the mood for something sweet, want anything?" he asks abruptly, still not meeting your eyes as he grabs the white button up and sunglasses he'd discarded on the sand when you'd first arrived.

you furrow a brow at his sudden eagerness to distance himself while he slips the items on.

"uh surprise me."

and with that he's leaving you to wonder what just happened.

thinking back to your conversation you almost groan audibly when you realize what you'd said. you and san were just casual, having met last summer while you were both staying the summer here at namhae. you'd hooked up a couple times back the , after friends’ parties and such, but this summer you'd seen your connection escalate. you weren't technically in a relationship, never going on official dates or truly talking about what you were, but you certainly acted cozy. part of that was simply in san's nature, always a fan of pda, but it mostly seemed to be a natural element of whatever this little fling was. however, your comment about living together seemed certainly to snap him out of the hazy bubble of this summer fever you'd wrapped yourselves in.

the sudden awareness of your slip up casts your own mind into a frenzy of thought. why had you said what you did? obviously, the two of you living together conjured thoughts of romance and long-term affection, and that was not at all what you had now. was it?

was this little thing you shared made to last?

thinking back on the summer you'd already shared, every other minute spent together, sharing passionate kisses in front of the orange sunset and exploring the coastal town hand in hand. who could fault you for imagining a world in which you could continue on like this forever? how much longer could you two do this before you fell in love?

"the gelato truck was here," san says suddenly, snapping you out of your thoughts as he holds a cone of the creamy dessert out to you. "sorry, it melted a bit on the way here," he apologizes sheepishly when you accept the dripping cone.

he no longer seems to be avoiding your gaze as he sits down with his own paper cup of italian ice, eyes sparkling as he watches you try your gelato.

"we need to reapply," you comment remembering you were still holding the bottle of sunscreen and shaking it gently.

"once we're done," san nods, "we're okay under the umbrella for right now."

a silence settles between you as you both eat, swapping bites every so often and just listening to the waves crash against the shore. you try not to slip into a thought spiral, worrying about whether you are starting to develop deeper, unrequited feelings for your summer fling. you try to analyze him subtly, but san seems as relaxed as ever, like nothing had happened. maybe its just the birthday effect.

"do you want to do something fancy for dinner? wooyoung said that place just down the road is good," you suggest. "you could invite the boys. i'm sure drinks would be on hongjoong."

he hums and for a moment you think it's in thought until you see hes adjusting his position, placing his empty paper cup into your little trash bag and laying on his side. "you don't like my cooking?" he asks teasingly, having told you earlier today that he wants to cook for you tonight.

"you shouldn't have to cook on your birthday," you reply with a roll of your eyes, crunching on the last of your cone.

san only shrugs, "i like cooking."

silence settles once more over you two and you tap gently against the sunscreen, thinking of how else you might get him to do something he might enjoy more than simply laying on the beach with you.

"why don't we go do something more exciting, ya know? something more celebratory," you suggest, placing the sunscreen back on the ground next to you.

san rolls onto his back, hands behind his head with his eyes closed, and releases a gentle sigh. "i like what we're doing now," he says before cracking one eye open to look at you. "can't the birthday boy pick what he wants to do on his own birthday?" he asks with a teasing smirk, one eye still closed.

you scoff lightly, turning away from him so that he won't see the blush dusting your cheeks. "i just don't want you wasting all your time with me," you explain and although you're talking about today specifically, it's strongly implied that you mean in general, throughout the summer. sure you've each spent time with other friends but even group hangouts would turn into you both in your own world in the corner.

"hey," san's voice is gentle but his touch is even gentler as he wraps his fingers around your wrist, causing you to look back toward him. "my time with you is never wasted," he says earnestly, eyes staring deeply into your own.

for a moment you hold your breath, ready for him to say something else, but if he had more words they never come, instead releasing your wrist and gesturing for you to lay down with him, an invitation you accept with little hesitance. you easily tuck into his side, allowing his arm to support your head like a pillow.

"can i at least get you a gift?" you ask under your breath, your urge to fight starting to fade.

you think that san doesn't hear you at first, continuing his slow even breaths beside you, but as you open your mouth to ask again he shifts to face you.

"stick with me," he says quickly.

you aren't sure if its a question or a request and so you furrow your brows at the man whose face is only inches from your own.

"go out with me," he says when he sees your confusion. "officially."

your lips part slightly in surprise and you quickly search his features to evaluate his honesty, but all you can see is the blush on his cheeks and the sparkle of hope in his eyes.

"when?" you ask, a little breathless as san leans even closer to your face, if that was even possible.

"i have tickets to the carnival tomorrow," he explains, "it can be our first date."

you can only nod, swallowing thickly, before san closes the distance and his lips are on yours.

you've kissed plenty of times before, but this one feels different, with the promise of more on his lips and the sticky gelato left over on yours mixing to form the sweetest feeling in your chest.

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note hopefully you enjoyed, wrote this kinda quick so excuse any mistakes

let me know what you thought

cleaning with seonghwa - mini imagine

warnings: fluff

wc: 182

when seonghwa cleans alone it is more like a chore. however, when he cleans with you, it is a special moment. because he values tidiness so much, he wants to do it with someone he loves, which is you. due to seonghwa having a busy schedule, he cannot always spend time with you. he feels guilty for that. so to make up for this, he will casually call you on his off day and ask ,do you want to tidy up with me?’ to the average person this seems bizarre. their significant other asking them to help clean? heck no. but for you and seonghwa, it’s like bonding time. he uses this time to talk with you about what’s going on in your life and he also talks about things going on in his life as well. sharing laughs, deep conversation…all of this happens while you two are cleaning. when both of you have finished tidying up, seonghwa then spends the rest of the day lounging around with you. it is a simple thing, but something special for the both of you.