tinybeetiny

[tinybeetiny]

Build-A-Boyfriend Filler: San Core Rebuild Day 2 Part 1

Okay. I want to start off with a few things... I didn't mean to make these fillers so long. I was hoping it would only be these two chapters but I couldn't stop sooooooo one more part after this 😁. Secondly, I want to go into more details with the Ateez models and honestly, all the models and they're programming. They're programmed to be as real as possible. When they're in stand-by mode, it's like they're sleeping, so depending on how long they're in standby mode kind of affects how they are when they "wake up". So, for example, if they're in stand-by for over 4 hours, when they wake up, it's like they're actually waking up. They're sleepy and groggy. If it's only been an hour or so, they'll be fine. I don't even know what I'm writing anymore I just noticed how long this was and this happens when I'm writing and this how I get 3 chapters of fillers.... one of these days I'll just make an information chapter thing.... k bye

->Starring: AI!AteezxAfab!Reader ->Genre: Dystopian, slice of life... sorta ->Cw: Wooyoung is Wooyoung

Reread Dealines if you're confused | Day 1

Masterlist | Ateez Masterlist | Series Masterlist

The lab was dim, lit only by the pale blue glow of the core monitor and the soft pulsing lights of the standby pods. All around them, the other units stood silently in their docks, eyes dark, systems resting. But Seonghwa remained at Yn’s side, watching her with quiet focus as she ran the fourth test.

Another red screen. Another failure.

Yn cursed under her breath, shoulders tensing as she stared at the lines of code that refused to align. San’s core flickered faintly, but the signal was unstable. Every iteration had gotten them closer, but not close enough.

“Run it again,” she mumbled, rubbing her eyes and reaching for the keyboard.

Seonghwa didn’t move.

Instead, his gaze drifted to the biometric scanner still attached to her wrist. The red light blinked steadily.

SLEEP REQUIRED – STRESS INDICATORS AT 92%

He frowned. “Yn.”

“I’m fine,” she said automatically.

“You’re not.” His voice was gentle, but firm. "It's 2:40 am."

“I just need to run it one more time—”

“You said that an hour ago.”

“I can’t stop, not now. If we just adjust the sync ratio on—”

“Yn.” This time, he reached out and placed a hand lightly over hers.

She froze.

His palm was warm. Solid. Not demanding, just present.

“Your hands are shaking,” he said softly.

“I can’t sleep,” she whispered, her throat tight. “What if something goes wrong while I’m out? What if I lose the progress? What if it all falls apart again?”

“It won’t,” Seonghwa said. “Because I’ll be here. I’ll watch it for you.”

Her eyes flicked to him. “You’re in standby mode at night. You’re not programmed for shifts like this.”

“I changed it.”

That gave her pause. “You… changed it?”

He nodded. “You didn’t ask me to. I wanted to. I told you I was going to be with you through this, and I meant it.”

A long silence stretched between them. Yn felt the weight of everything, the failures, the tension, the long hours, pressing on her like static. Her eyes burned, but she didn’t cry. She just looked at him, unsure what to say.

Eventually, she let out a shaky breath. “Just for a few hours?”

“Three,” he offered.

“Two.”

His lip quirked, just slightly. “Two and a half.”

She nodded slowly.

And then, without fully thinking, she shifted closer, her body moving instinctively, seeking warmth, contact, and safety. Her head gently rested against his shoulder, soft hair brushing his jaw. She felt him stiffen for a moment in surprise, like even he hadn’t anticipated it.

But then he settled.

Seonghwa let out a quiet breath and tilted his head just slightly to rest against hers. His arm moved behind her, not holding her tightly, just enough to keep her close. Protective. Steady.

He kept watch while she finally slept.

3 hours went by, and Yn was still sleeping soundly

Seonghwa sat perfectly still, his shoulder slightly tense where Yn’s head rested, her breath warm and even against his neck. She had dozed off hours ago, completely drained, and for once, he hadn't tried to wake her.

She looked… peaceful like this. Fragile, even.

His eyes scanned the flickering data on the monitor in front of them, his fingers moving occasionally to adjust something, quiet, measured, careful not to stir her.

Every few seconds, he glanced down, checking to make sure her vitals were still stable, her breath still deep.

Then he heard movement outside of the console room and didn’t look up until the footsteps stopped beside him.

Mingi stood there, hair messy and a blanket draped loosely around his shoulders, rubbing his eyes.

“She’s asleep?” Mingi asked softly, eyes falling to Yn.

Seonghwa nodded.

Mingi lowered himself onto the floor beside them, crossing his legs and letting out a long exhale. “She looks tired.”

“She is tired,” Seonghwa murmured. “She pushed herself way past what she should’ve.”

A pause.

“You like her.”

Seonghwa’s head turned slightly. “Excuse me?”

“You like her,” Mingi repeated, shrugging one shoulder. “I can tell.”

Seonghwa frowned. “That’s not—”

“You don’t let anyone that close,” Mingi interrupted gently, not accusatory, just observant. “Not even us.”

Seonghwa glanced down at Yn again, his jaw tightening. “That's ridiculous. We aren't programmed that way... remember”

Mingi gave him a look, and Seonghwa sighed.

There was a long silence between them after that. The only sounds were the hum of the monitors and the soft whirring of the cooling vents overhead.

“She’s trying to fix something that should’ve never been broken,” Seonghwa finally said, voice barely audible. “And she keeps blaming herself for it.”

Seonghwa sighed quietly. “I didn’t know what to do at first. With the core. With her. But the more time I spend with her… the more I think maybe she’s the only one who can handle this.”

Mingi gave a small hum of agreement. “And maybe she shouldn’t have to.”

Seonghwa looked over at him, and something softened between them, mutual understanding, quiet and unspoken.

And then Yn stirred.

Her fingers twitched first, then her head shifted slightly against Seonghwa’s shoulder. Her eyes blinked open slowly, lashes fluttering like she couldn’t quite remember where she was.

Seonghwa looked down at her gently. “Hey. You’re awake.”

She blinked blearily. “What time is it?”

“Almost seven,” he said from beside her. “You slept for almost four hours.”

Her eyes widened. “Four?!”

She sat up far too quickly, her spine cracking as she pushed off Seonghwa’s shoulder and straightened.

“I told you to wake me!” she snapped at Seonghwa, groggy frustration clouding her voice.

“I was going to,” he said calmly, “but Mingi distracted me.”

“Hey!” Mingi whined, laughing. “You’re gonna throw me under the bus like that?”

“You did distract me.”

“I brought warmth and conversation!”

Yn rubbed at her temples. “You’re both ridiculous.”

But there was no real anger in her voice. Just exhaustion and a bit of helpless fondness.

Mingi leaned forward a little, his voice gentling again. “We just didn’t want to wake you. You looked like you needed it. It's clear you aren't taking care of yourself like you should be. We need you, Yn.”

Yn opened her mouth to argue, but the words faltered as soon as she saw his wide eyes.

And then she sighed.

“Fine,” she muttered. “I’ll let it go. But only because I needed it more than I thought.”

Mingi smiled and reached out, gently tugging at her sleeve. “Can I sit with guys for a little? I’ll even stay quiet this time.”

“You?” she raised an eyebrow. “Quiet?”

He gasped. “I can be!”

Seonghwa stifled a chuckle beside her.

Yn shook her head, unable to fight her smile as she rolled her shoulders back and stretched. “Alright. You can stay.”

Mingi beamed, immediately hopping up onto the spare stool beside her.

As she turned back to the monitor to check the status of the core rebuild, she caught the sound of Mingi quietly humming beside her, softly and nostalgically.

One of their songs, long before the world changed.

It didn’t take long for the others to begin stirring.

The soft clicks and mechanical hisses of pods opening echoed faintly through the lab, subtle signs that the standby cycles were ending.

Yn was still reviewing the test logs, blinking away the last remnants of sleep, when the door slid open again.

“Mingi!”

Yunho’s voice cracked through the quiet like a whip of energy. He burst into the room, hair sticking up wildly in every direction, looking like he’d sprinted the entire hallway.

“You weren’t in your pod!” he exclaimed, eyes wide and frantic.

Mingi turned around completely unbothered. “Oops?”

Yunho gaped at him. “Oops?! I literally had a heart attack!”

“You don’t even have a heart,” Mingi deadpanned through a bite.

“Exactly! That’s how serious it was!”

Yn chuckled quietly, leaning back in her chair. “He’s fine. He just wanted to keep me company.”

Yunho huffed, placing both hands on his hips like an annoyed older brother. “You could’ve said something, at least! I thought you glitched and wandered off!”

Mingi winced. “Okay, sorry. I didn’t mean to freak you out.”

Seonghwa, watching the exchange, smiled slightly.

Yunho finally softened, stepping further into the room with a sigh. “You guys… you could’ve just woken me up too, you know. What if I wanted to join?”

“We didn’t want to overwhelm her,” Seonghwa said, nodding toward Yn. “She finally got a little rest.”

Yunho looked over at her, his expression flickering with something warmer. “You okay now?”

Yn gave a small, tired smile. “Yeah. Getting there.”

“Good,” he said, then nudged Mingi in the shoulder a little harder than necessary. “Next time, leave a note.”

“Yes, mom,” Mingi muttered.

Yunho rolled his eyes, but there was no real irritation behind it. Just relief.

Behind them, more footsteps echoed as Yeosang’s dock hissed faintly, followed by the sound of another pod releasing pressure. He stepped in, rubbing his eyes.

One by one, the boys were waking, and the lab was no longer.

She still had so much work to do but when she looked over at Seonghwa, her anxiety calmed... slightly

As time ticked by, the lab itself began to calm down, but the room where Yn worked only grew more tense.

Seonghwa had gone off to deal with something Wooyoung was loudly complaining about, leaving her alone for a little while.

She sat cross-legged on the floor, surrounded by scattered tools and glowing panels. Her fingers moved deftly over the intricate lattice of San’s core, adjusting delicate neural threads. The steady hum of machinery filled the space, broken only by the occasional beep or soft click as diagnostics ran quietly in the background.

The sound of soft shuffling broke through her concentration.

Yeosang padded into the room and crouched down beside her, wide-eyed with curiosity. He didn’t speak at first, just watched, mesmerized by the glowing components and Yn’s steady hands.

“What’s that?” he finally asked, voice barely above a whisper. He pointed to a thin strand of fiber-optic wiring.

“It’s part of San’s neural network,” Yn replied, not looking up. Her tone was patient. “I’m making sure every connection is perfect so his core can sync properly.”

Yeosang tilted his head slightly. “How do you know what’s perfect?”

Yn gave a small smile, one that didn’t quite reach her tired eyes. “Lots of tests. A lot of trial and error.”

He hummed thoughtfully, though the explanation went over his head a little. Still, he didn’t move away. Instead, he lowered himself fully to the floor, folding his legs neatly and settling beside her like a kid watching their favorite story unfold.

Not long after, another figure appeared in her peripheral vision. Jongho quietly entered the room, his steps light. He didn’t say anything, just gave a small sigh and made his way over.

Yn glanced at him and caught the gentle expression on his face. She gave a tired smile and patted the space next to her.

Without hesitation, Jongho stepped carefully over the scattered parts and sat down on her other side. He didn’t touch anything, didn’t ask questions. He just… stayed.

Between Yeosang’s open curiosity and Jongho’s quiet presence, the knot in her chest loosened just a little. The tension didn’t vanish, but it softened, like someone had cracked open a window in a stuffy room.

Seonghwa entered after his draining quest with the loud one. “How’s it going in here?”

Yeosang turned with a bright smile. “Yn is making sure every connection is perfect.”

Seonghwa nodded, settling across from the trio and quietly handing her the next piece she needed without being asked. No words, just quiet teamwork.

They stayed like that for a while, the hum of machinery and the occasional soft click of tools the only sounds between them.

After about an hour, the door slid open again. Hongjoong stepped in, gaze flicking over the room before he crossed the floor and crouched near the far wall. He didn’t interrupt, just sat quietly, eyes on the delicate work in Yn’s hands.

Not long after, Wooyoung slipped in. For once, he was quiet, almost solemn. He set a bottle of water beside her knee and plopped down between Yeosang and Jongho, resting his chin in his hands.

Then came Mingi and Yunho together, both peeking in first like they weren’t sure if they should intrude. One look at the scene and they padded in, Mingi folding himself onto the floor beside Seonghwa while Yunho leaned back against the wall.

Yn eventually looked up from her work and realized she was completely surrounded, seven sets of eyes trained on her every move.

She blinked slowly, glancing from one face to another. “You know,” she said, voice light but teasing, “all this watching isn’t going to make me work any faster.”

A few faint smirks broke out among them, but none of them moved.

“We know,” Wooyoung said simply.

“Then why—?”

“Because we like being around you,” Mingi said before she could finish.

Yunho nodded in agreement, expression earnest. “It’s… nice like this.”

Yn huffed softly, shaking her head with the smallest of smiles, and went back to the core. No one spoke after that.

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[tinybeetiny]

Not Ready: Caleb

Sigh... i made this longer than i wanted to but no going back now!! Just so you know, these soulmarks are going to be very obvious or cliché or whatever you want to call it. Cannot promise the next one will come out fast because I still have 2 ongoing series for Ateez and like a billion drafts. Also @scentedrebelcat I cannot stop until I finish all the guys.... so again thank you for the inspo!!! @koyagifs this is also for you bby

->Starring: Soulmate!CalebxMc, Soulamtes!CalebxSoulmates!non!mc!Fem!Reader, non!MCFem!ReaderxSylus ->Genre: Angst, with a little comfort??? college au ->Words: 2.7k ->Cw: Explicit language, cheating, gaslighting, implications of the intercourse, Caleb is.... Caleb

Masterlist

Xavier | Zayne | Rafayel | Sylus | Caleb

You never wanted a soulmate.

Not because you didn’t believe in them, you’d seen the soulmarks appear on others, watched the way people’s lives seemed to change overnight with one accidental glance and a matching symbol.

But something about it always felt too intrusive, too predetermined. Like your future was being handed to you before you’d even had a say.

You liked your life as it was, quiet and independent.

People romanticized soulmates like they were some kind of reward, a shortcut to forever. But you didn’t want your feelings dictated by fate.

You wanted the choice to fall in love, not a cosmic hand on your back shoving you toward someone just because your wrists decided it.

So when your mark never showed, you were fine. Content, even. You built your life without expecting anyone to complete it.

Until the first day of Design & Narrative in Modern Environments, a shared elective neither of you expected much from. You were there to check a box, fulfill a gen-ed requirement. He was probably doing the same.

He walked into the classroom like any other student, backpack slung low, hoodie sleeves pushed to his elbows. His hair was a little messy, and his expression neutral, just another face in the sea of new faces you were learning to ignore.

But the second your eyes met, everything shifted.

You felt it instantly, a strange warmth building beneath your skin. Your wrist began to burn, not sharp pain, but heat that pulsed and tightened. You looked down and saw it forming, etched in a faint golden light before it settled into your skin.

A small paper airplane.

Your breath caught in your throat.

Across the room, Caleb froze. He rubbed at his wrist like it stung, eyes scanning the rows until they landed on you. You stared back, and for a second, the world tilted, time bending around the pull, the unmistakable soulmark bond.

He blinked, looked away quickly, and made a split-second decision: he sat in the row directly in front of you.

The lecture began, but you couldn’t hear a single word. The back of his head was all you could focus on, the way his shoulders shifted, how he tapped his pen against his notebook even though he wasn’t writing.

Every so often, he turned just slightly to steal a glance behind him. He wasn’t subtle.

Your wrist still tingled.

When class finally ended, you started gathering your things, unsure of what to do, when he spun around in his seat.

“Hey,” he said.

His voice was a little hoarse, like he hadn’t used it all morning.

“I’m Caleb.”

You hesitated before answering, still caught off guard. “I’m… yeah. Hi. I’m Yn.”

He smiled softly, and you hated how that small gesture sent a shiver up your spine. There was a moment of silence between you, heavy with the unspoken.

“So,” he said, gesturing vaguely at his wrist, “Uh… soulmates, huh?”

You nodded. “Yeah. I guess so.”

He looked down. “Didn’t think this would happen in a design elective at ten in the morning.”

That made you laugh, and the tension broke for just a second.

But then he took a breath and looked back up at you with something heavier in his eyes.

“I need to say something before this gets… complicated,” he said quietly. “I’m not in the right place for a soulmate.”

Your stomach dropped. You didn’t like where this was going.

Caleb continued, the words clearly difficult. “There’s a lot going on in my life right now. I’m still trying to figure myself out. I don’t want to mess you up in the process, and I know it’s not fair to ask you to wait, and I won’t do that. But—” He faltered, raking a hand through his hair. “I also can’t just walk away like none of this matters.”

You forced a nod, even though your throat burned. “Thanks for being honest.”

He looked down, then stood, slinging his backpack over his shoulder.

“I hope we can still be… something. Even if it’s just classmates who know there’s something more.”

And then he left.

The next week passed in a daze.

You’d see him before class, a nod, a soft smile, a quick hello in passing. He still sat one row ahead of you, never turning around again, never lingering after.

You told yourself you were fine with that. That you didn’t expect anything.

But then on Thursday, he surprised you. As you sat down and pulled out your notebook, he slid into the seat beside you.

“Hey,” he said like it was no big deal. “Is this seat taken?”

Your breath caught, but you shook your head. “No, go ahead.”

He gave you a small, nervous smile.

His hand occasionally brushed against yours, and you tried to hide your oh-so-obvious blush. But he saw it.

Midway through class, he leaned over and whispered, “You want to get coffee after this?”

You glanced at him, startled. “Yeah. Sure.”

He gave you a small smile and nod, then focused his attention back on the lecture. But all you could focus on was getting your heart rate back to normal.

Once class ended, the two of you gathered your things and left together for the first time.

You ended up at a small, cozy café tucked between campus buildings, with too many string lights and mismatched mugs.

You chose a corner booth and sat across from each other, drinks in hand.

Conversation flowed easier than either of you expected.

You talked about your majors, your favorite books, and the worst professors you’d had. He told you about growing up in Linkon, something you had in common.

You told him about the way you used to write stories on napkins and stuff them under your mattress like secrets.

He listened to every single word, memorizing all of it.

“I didn’t think you’d say yes,” he admitted at one point, stirring his coffee.

“Really? Why’s that?”

“I don’t know. Maybe because I basically told you I wasn’t ready and then I asked you on a date,” he said, not meeting your eyes.

“This is a date?” Your eyebrows rose in surprise.

“Well… yeah. Only if you’re okay with it, of course.” He nervously scratched the back of his neck.

“It’s perfectly fine with me.” You gave him a small smile, your cheeks now flushed bright red.

His eyes flickered up to yours, and your soulmark tingled.

That was the moment you knew you were in trouble.

He opened his mouth to say something, but then his phone rang.

He looked at the screen and let out a small sigh, jaw tightening. “I have to go,” he said, already standing. “But, can I get your number?”

You gave it to him. You didn’t even hesitate.

The following days were filled with endless texts and even some late-night phone calls. You never expected to be so excited to hear your phone ding.

The butterflies were scary, but Caleb made everything easy. Your friends noticed the way you smiled at the screen, or how quick you were to check your phone.

“Is that Caleb again?” one of your friends asked as you were eating lunch.

“Mhm. He sent me a funny picture. Look.” You turned your phone to show her.

“Look, Yn. I’m happy you found your soulmate and everything, but… I don’t know. Something just seems off.” She shrugged.

“What do you mean? He’s sweet, and it seems like he actually wants to try now.”

“Exactly! It’s been what… only two weeks since you guys met and he told you he wasn’t ready? It just seems a little fishy.”

You knew your friend meant well, but did she have to give you such a reality check?

Three nights later, your phone buzzed.

Caleb: Can I come over?

You stared at your phone for a minute, wondering if you were actually reading the words correctly.

You didn’t know what to say. A big part of you screamed yes, but there was that small, itty-bitty part that said no.

You said yes.

When you opened the door, he looked like he’d been running in circles for hours, flushed, disheveled, eyes wild with emotion.

“I can’t stop thinking about you,” he said before you could speak. “You’re in my head all the time, and I know I’m not supposed to let this happen, but I just want to be with you. Even if it’s just one night.”

He didn’t give you a chance to say anything. His legs moved before he could even think.

His lips crashed into yours, and all the air you had in your lungs was gone. You’d never had a kiss like this, never felt a kiss like this.

It was the literal definition of fireworks, and you wanted more.

Your hands fisted in his shirt, pulling him closer, and his arm snaked around your waist as he pushed you up against the wall.

“Tell me to stop. Tell me no.” He pulled away, breathless.

You should’ve said no.

Because then one night turned into three weeks.

Three weeks of stolen kisses and tangled sheets. Three weeks of coffee dates and small smiles. Three weeks of him sitting next to you in class, of hands brushing.

You had fallen hard, and for the first time, you weren’t against it.

Then you went home to Linkon for a weekend just to see your family. It was a nice break from the busy vibe of Skyhaven… even though Linkon was just as busy.

And then you saw him.

You were walking past a bookstore downtown when you caught sight of him on the other side of the street.

Caleb.

Laughing with some girl with long hair and kind eyes. They laughed like they were so familiar with each other.

Your chest clenched and your hands started to shake.

You told yourself maybe she was just a friend. Nothing to worry about.

He was your soulmate. He told you he’d never met anyone like you.

Until he kissed her.

And all you could do was stand there, frozen, your heart cracking wide open in your chest.

The betrayal tasted bitter on your tongue and you didn’t know how to handle it.

They walked on without a care in the world. Like they hadn’t just crushed your heart like an empty soda can.

You went back to Skyhaven that night and called your friends, who were there in an instant.

“You were right. I shouldn’t have rushed into this.” You sniffled as your head lay on her shoulder.

“Oh hush. I don’t care about being right. What matters is that you’re crying over a guy who looks like he doesn’t wash his ass.”

That made you laugh.

The first of many texts came that morning:

Caleb: Hey pips. Missed you all weekend ☹️

You scoffed at the message, feeling the rage brew inside.

Then two hours later:

Caleb: ??? Are you busy?

Yeah, busy ignoring you, you thought, rolling your eyes.

Two days consisted of his nonstop text messages. Luckily you had a doctor’s appointment at the same time as your shared class, so you got more time to avoid him.

But unfortunately, he was waiting for you after your 2 p.m. class.

You tried to hide your surprise when you saw him leaning against the wall. His eyes lit up when he saw you.

You rolled your eyes and sped past him.

“Hey, hey, wait up,” he said, jogging to catch you.

You kept walking, determined to get away.

“Yn, please. Just tell me what’s going on.” He pleaded, finally catching up to you, his hand shooting out to grab your arm.

You turned slowly and ripped your arm out of his grasp. “How was your weekend in Linkon?”

He looked at you, confused. “What are you talking about? How did you—?”

“I saw you. With her.” You cut him off with a glare.

His face went pale. “Shit.”

“Yeah. ‘Shit.’ Who is she, Caleb?”

He hesitated. “It’s not what it—”

“Answer the question.”

He swallowed. “She’s… she’s my girlfriend.”

Your jaw clenched and you had to take a deep breath to calm down.

“You didn’t think that was important to mention? When we first met, why didn’t you just tell me that instead of spouting some bullshit about you not being ready?” Your voice rose in volume, drawing stares.

He sputtered out a response. “I didn’t mean to hurt you. I just… she and I, it’s complicated, and I didn’t expect to meet my soulmate in the middle of all that.”

“But you did. And instead of being honest, you played both sides.” Your voice shook. “You lied to her. You lied to me. You slept with me. Is that all you wanted?”

“No! Not at all! I just, I didn’t mean to—”

“Save it, Caleb.” You walked away, tears blurring the hallway.

Your phone was going off nonstop. You knew you should’ve blocked him, but there was something so satisfying about seeing him grovel and beg for your forgiveness, not that he was going to get it.

But boy, did he try.

Even after you started sitting a few rows behind him in class, never sparing him a glance.

When he tried to speak to you, your friends were there to block him. He never got more than a half-second of eye contact before you turned away.

He would stand outside your dorm, begging you to talk to him. Begging you to hear him. But you never did.

The ache still lingered. Weeks of sulking and ignoring Caleb’s puppy-dog attempts.

Your friends hated seeing you this way and decided they were going to drag you to a party in Linkon.

You didn’t want to be there. You wanted to be in your bed with a large pizza, binge-watching some random show on your watchlist. But instead, you were surrounded by people you barely knew.

That’s how you ended up outside in the backyard with a drink, sitting on the edge of a worn porch swing.

A deep voice brought you out of your thoughts.

“Is the swing more entertaining than the party?”

You looked to see a tall figure, silver and crimson eyes. To say he was pretty would be downplaying it.

“I’m not really into the party scene,” you told him.

“Me neither,” he said. “I just come for the firepit.”

You cracked a smile. “I’m Yn.”

“Sylus. May I join you?” He gestured to the space next to you.

You nodded, and his big frame shook the swing as he sat.

“Where’s your soulmate? Pretty shitty of him to leave you out here all alone,” he said, pointing to the mark on your wrist.

You huffed, rolling your eyes while crossing your arms. “He has a girlfriend.” You looked down at his wrist and saw a small little crow.

“Where’s yours? I’m sure she wouldn’t want you sitting here with some random at a party.”

He let out a chuckle, leaning back and moving the whole swing. “She actually just got married.”

You sat up. You never saw a ring, and he looked to be the same age as you so… then your eyes widened. “Wait! Really?” Were you both really in the same situation?

He nodded. “Yep. We met when we were sixteen. She didn’t want it. Said it wasn’t her choice. She met him two weeks later.”

You winced. “I’m sorry.”

He shrugged. “It tore me apart. But I’ve come to terms with it.”

“How?”

He gave you a slow, thoughtful look. “I could explain it over dinner sometime. If you want.”

You were silent for a long beat. Maybe this was a sign that you needed to move on. That you didn’t need a soulmate.

Then you nodded.

A few weeks later, Sylus was over. You were in your dorm, watching a movie, legs tangled on the couch, when a knock came at the door.

“I’ll get it.” Sylus stood to answer it.

Caleb.

He blinked at Sylus, caught off guard. “Who are you?”

Sylus didn’t flinch. “Are you him?”

Caleb’s gaze shifted past him to you.

“I just want to talk,” he said, voice low. “I know I messed up, but I can’t stop thinking about you. I don’t want to let you go.”

You stood up slowly.

“You already did,” you said, fire in your chest. “And it’s been weeks, Caleb. Give it up.”

He stepped forward. “Please, just—”

“Go fuck yourself,” you said, voice cold.

Then you turned to Sylus.

“Shut the door.”

[tinybeetiny]

Koya…. You know I love when you hurt me like this!!!!!

moth to a flame

pairing: caleb x reader genre: angst with no comfort au: non mc | best friends to strangers synopsis: you came? you called word count: 1.3k warning(s): unrequited love, abandonment, one sided love

It was stupid to call him. You knew that. You’d stared at his contact for hours, thumb hovering just over the screen, the ache in your chest growing heavier with every passing second.

But you were tired. Tired of pretending you didn’t miss him. That the silence didn’t hurt more than the things left unsaid.

So you called.

Just once.

You didn’t even leave a message.

And yet… here he was. On your doorstep, hours later, still in uniform, soaked to the bone from the rain, his breath misting in the cold air.

“You called?” he asked, his voice quiet—guarded.

You blinked. “You came?”

Caleb’s jaw clenched. He looked at you like he was trying not to. Like being here was a mistake but not being here would’ve been worse.

“You don’t call unless it’s serious.”

“It wasn’t.” You lied. “It was a mistake. I didn’t mean to—”

“Don’t,” he said, stepping closer. “Don’t pretend like it didn’t mean something. You called me, not him.”

You flinched. The implication hung heavy in the air, like a wound neither of you had the courage to bandage.

“I’m not her,” you whispered.

“I know,” Caleb said, almost too quickly. “That’s the problem.”

You looked down, your fingers curling into the hem of your sleeves, ashamed of the way your heart fluttered just from his presence.

"You should go," you said, voice barely audible over the rain still hitting the pavement. "She's probably wondering where you are."

Caleb didn’t move.

“She didn’t answer,” he said after a beat, voice bitter. “She never does when it matters.”

You lifted your eyes, stunned. But he wasn't looking at you—he was staring at the space between you, like it held every wrong turn and missed chance you'd ever shared.

“I shouldn’t have come,” he added, like he was trying to convince himself more than you. “But when I saw your name…”

He exhaled sharply, shaking his head. Water rolled from his hair, but he didn’t seem to notice. “God, I wish you hadn’t called.”

Your chest caved in at that.

“Then why are you here, Caleb?” you asked, finally letting the bitterness leak through. “Why show up just to twist the knife?”

He looked at you then—really looked at you. Like maybe he’d been avoiding it all this time. His eyes were red around the edges. Maybe from the cold. Maybe not.

“I don’t know,” he said. “I just—” He faltered. “I heard your voice and… I thought maybe you needed me.”

You let out a small laugh. One of those bitter, breathless kinds that was never meant to escape. It cracked from your chest like something breaking loose — sharp and ugly and real.

And it made him flinch.

Like he’d just watched something inside you snap.

“I’m pathetic,” you whispered, swiping at your cheeks even though the tears had already mixed with the rain. “You show up and I still think maybe… maybe this time you'll stay.”

Caleb didn’t say anything.

His silence — god, it was cruel. Not in the way that was intentional, but in the way it filled all the spaces where love used to live. It screamed louder than any excuse he could’ve offered. It emptied you.

Still, he stepped forward.

The umbrella in his hand lifted — a small, quiet mercy. He moved to hold it over you, shielding you from the rain that had soaked through every layer, just like everything else had lately.

But you stepped away.

And when you did, it was like something broke between you.

His hand faltered midair. He didn’t lower the umbrella. He didn’t speak. He just stood there with his arm outstretched, like a man offering shelter to someone who didn’t want it from him anymore.

“I don’t need it,” you said, voice thin and sharp, trembling with everything unsaid. “I don’t need you to pretend to care right now.”

His brows drew in, pain flickering through those eyes you still dreamed about some nights. “I’m not pretending.”

“Then what is this?” you snapped, gesturing between you. “What is it you think you’re doing? Coming here like it still means something, like I still mean something—when we both know who you go home to.”

Caleb's jaw clenched. “You called me.”

“I regret it,” you spat. “I regret every time I let myself believe you’d show up for me the way you do for her.”

The wind howled between you, as if the sky wanted to drown out the truth you finally let spill. Caleb took a step closer — again — and again, you stepped back.

Always that distance.

“Why did you come?” you asked, quieter now, broken. “Did she not answer? Did it feel safe to show up here instead?”

He flinched like you slapped him.

And that? That hurt worse than anything — that there was still something in him left to wound.

You let out a shaky breath. “You don’t get to do this. You don’t get to come here when it’s convenient and pretend you’re not the one who left.”

The rain poured harder. Caleb stood there like a ghost in uniform, soaked to the bone and saying nothing — because maybe deep down, he knew you were right. Knew there was no version of this where he got to keep pieces of you while building something else with her.

“I would’ve stayed,” you whispered. “You didn’t ask me to.”

His hand fell to his side.

You looked away. “Go home, Caleb.”

The rain didn’t let up. Neither did he.

His grip on the umbrella tightened until his knuckles went white, and when you finally dared to glance back at him, his eyes were locked on your face — tear-streaked, worn, barely holding it together.

“No.”

Just that. Low. Steady. Like the word cost him something to say.

You blinked. “What?”

“You called me,” he said, his voice rising now — not in anger, but in sheer disbelief. “And for what? To just… berate me? Bleed all over me and then go inside like it didn’t mean anything?”

You flinched, because it did mean something. But not what he wanted it to.

“Don’t twist this,” you hissed. “I called because I was hurting. Because I didn’t know who else to—” You cut yourself off, lips trembling. “Because I’m a fucking idiot.”

“You’re not.”

“Then stop acting like you care!” you shouted, finally snapping. “You left, Caleb. You chose her. You made it very clear I wasn’t someone worth staying for.”

Caleb’s jaw clenched. The umbrella dipped, forgotten, as the rain began soaking him once again. But he didn’t care.

“I never stopped caring,” he said, chest rising and falling. “You think I don’t think about you? Every day, I—”

“Don’t,” you snapped, taking another step back. “Don’t you dare give me half-truths now. Don’t you stand there in the rain and try to look like the one who’s heartbroken.”

He opened his mouth, but you didn’t let him speak.

“You made your choice, Caleb. She gets your present. I get… I get one phone call and a guilt trip?”

His expression crumbled. “I didn’t come here to hurt you.”

“No. You came here to feel better about not loving me enough,” you said. And god, the silence that followed? It was the most honest thing either of you had shared all night.

You stepped back one final time. “But I won’t be your closure.”

And before he could stop you — before he could reach for you like he always did too late — you turned and walked inside, letting the door shut with a soft, hollow click.

Outside, the umbrella lay abandoned in the gutter.

And Caleb?

He didn’t leave.

Not yet.

Maybe because he still believed that staying in the rain was the same as staying for you.

But it wasn’t.

Not anymore.

taglist: @xh01bri | @puppyminnnie | @asesinas | @Kyukyustar | @elorabean | @riri53 | @life-is-a-game-of-thrones | @zayn-210 | @tinybeetiny

wanna join the taglist? join here!

[tinybeetiny]

Cam… with the new comeback… tour… and now this…. I’m dead. Deceased. Perished. I am no more

candy floss

dentist!soobin x fem!reader

synopsis: the one where you love to tease your dentist. wc: 3.2k ✶ warnings: nsfw! oral (m!rec), shy but dom!soobin, oral fixation, throat fucking, finger sucking, choking, deep throating, cumeating, spit mention, semipublic? they do all this in his office space but doors are closed, mentions of dentistry and whatnot also soobin wears gloves, reader had tooth gems, ummm i think thats it sorry if i forgot any ><

an: hi so ive had this in my head for so long i dont know if i got it exactly how i imagined it but yeah >< also why am i only ever writing oral m!rec for soobin??? and why am i not upset bc if im so honest i need that badly-

[m.list] [summer collection m.list]

The last time you had been in the chair to get your cleaning done, you had gone straight downtown to get the little gems glued to your teeth. You hadn't brought it up with your dentist, not that you thought they would mind, the receptionist had been keen on telling you just how well they suited your lip gloss smile. 

The little enhancement had done exactly what you had wanted it to do, bringing you attention to your lips, your mouth as you laughed. For a while, it had been hard to confess how eager you were to keep anything in your mouth, the fixation taking on a life of its own in the form of lollipops. They had brought attention, the kind that made your skin heat and your mouth water. 

But when you didn't find the sweet treat on your tongue, you needed some kind of distraction, something to trace over when you were bored so that you didn't just end up chewing gum right before bed again and again. And the little gems had helped, kept you distracted, and they just so happened to look cute. Although they didn't keep you from the lollipops or the gum, because even sitting there in the chair waiting for your dentist to come in, you blew a pink bubble. 

It was how soobin had walked in on you, sitting back in the navy blue chair all done up in pink, popping your gum, the candy never sticking to your lips when they were so glossed and sparkly, your fingers absentmindedly twisting the hem of your skirt. The angle of the chair had made the jean fabric bunch up around your thighs, creasing until he was sure anyone standing in front of you would have been able to see right up it. 

The sight had made him stutter in his step, in his words, “n-no gum, miss,” he had checked your chart, once, twice over, the film of your dental x-rays giving little away about what he should have expected when he walked in. its not like its the first time hes had you in his chair, and hes sure it wont be the last but he never got over the fact that you were real, as if your chart had been a lie, replaced for someone elses just to tease him. 

“Sorry, I always forget someone else has to check me out after my cleaning,” you mutter, giving a shy smile. You had done it so often, shoving a piece of gum into your mouth the second the room was empty, as if you didn't know the rules already. 

“It's okay,” the words come out more of a breath now that he has your attention, undivided because of the small, intimate room of the office. Even the little TV usually playing the news or some cooking show had been left off, reflecting just you and him in the black of the screen. 

He rushes to get you a cup to toss the gum into for the trash, and instead of taking it into your own hands, he watches as you slide the gum between your teeth, holding it in place like you're waiting for him to bring it closer to your mouth to spit. And he doesn't even question it as he does exactly what you want, lets his hand draw close until you drop the gum into the cup from your tongue. 

You loved to play with him, you did it every time, as if he were something you could twist on the end of your finger, as malleable and elastic as the gum you spat out for him, “you know I'd just swallow it if you weren't always so nice to give me the cup,” 

The blush on his cheeks is hot and instant; he doesn't even have his mask on yet, his glasses sliding down the bridge of his nose as he feels your stare burn into him like a warning. He had been working for several years, moving up from a hygienist to a regular dentist who just comes in at the end of the visit to make sure nothing was missed. It's exactly what he was supposed to do now, look over the work his hygienist had done during your cleaning and sign you out, and yet he's frozen like he's never worked a day in his life. 

All because of that smile you kept trained on him. 

He had seen tons of women in his chair and kept it professional without even thinking twice, and you, in a second, had twisted his insides and made him blush over a bit of gum and lip gloss. Never had he rushed to turn away like he was caught looking where he shouldn't have, as if his job wasn't looking at people's mouths, their smiles. You had always been the one to do it for him, made him second guess every step he made. teetering on the line of wanting to rush you out as soon as possible and keep you right there in his chair, looking up at him under your lashes. 

But he was quick to look away, reaching for his gloves and mask to distract himself with a simple, monotonous task that would help regulate his emotions and make him feel less like a perv. Because that's exactly how he felt, like a boy who had walked in on his crush changing. Panic and arousal building up in a deadly cocktail of shame. 

“Okay so you’ve already been cleared of cavities but just to double check, we'll do a quick look around, ill touch up anything the hygienist missed and we can send you back on your way,” he felt like he was walking himself through a reminder, his fingers slipping into the latex free gloves, the material slapping against his wrist before he pulled his mask into place under the weight of his glasses. 

“I know the drill, you act like it's my first rodeo.” You lean back, lying out on the seat while soobin adjusts the light, bringing it down closer to your mouth. The gloss on your lips shines anew, and you know it brings soobins eyes right back in. 

It wasn't as if you didn't know the effect you had on him, the way he had to readjust himself on the little stool next to you, his blush spreading all the way to his ears, his hands always taking a moment to calm their tremble after you teased him. You enjoyed the attention, and the tension built up after every visit you had. 

And it never got any easier for him to have you in his chair, not when he asked you to open your mouth and you listened so well. But you never opened wide enough, not on the first go, not until he placed a gentle finger on your jaw and asked you, “wider,” 

You would follow his instructions, and he would stick his finger into your mouth, run the digit along your bottom teeth, trace the ridges of your back molars like he had them memorized. And he might as well have. He fantasized about your mouth, not necessarily your teeth, but the way your lips had once wrapped around his gloved fingers. It had shocked him then, shaken him into thinking about acting professionally because he needed something to focus on instead of the way your lip gloss had made a shiny ring around his fingers, or how plush your lips had looked wrapped around anything at all. 

He would dream about how you had flattened your tongue, how you would have let him keep his hand right there without a word because you had given him a look he never got out of his mind. And when he had stuttered an apology, you had only chuckled as if it was fun to toy with him. 

Now he let his finger trace along your front teeth, the colorful gems. “Pretty,” it's the only word he could get out, his throat tight when you run your tongue over the spot he had just touched. 

“You like them? I thought about you when I got them done,” you bit your bottom lip. It wasn't a lie, you had thought about soobin often, more than anyone should truly think about their dentist, but the way he acted around you only made you think about him more. 

The first visit had been a lot of blushing and stumbling around, all the same things he found himself unable to conceal. But he was cute, his sleeves rolled up to his elbows, veins running up his arms as he tugged on his gloves, his pants getting so tight when you laid your tongue out flat for him when he asked you to open your mouth. It was so easy to tease him, almost as easy as it was for you to decide you loved the reactions he gave when you pushed the buttons he left so easily on display around you. 

“Of me?” he pointed at his chest like he was surprised, his adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed. You didn't need to see his mouth to know the words left him a bit dumbfounded. Because as much as you tried to make it known that you wanted him past the appointment, he never seemed to take your bait. 

“Of course, I think about you a lot, especially when I have something in my mouth.” Just at the mention, he looked to your lips, the way they grinned from him, so coy it might as well rip him into pieces. He knows now that if anyone walked in, he was technically doing his job, but if they looked any further, they would see the way he was fighting back the pressure in his slacks. “You don't think about me, I'm sure, you have so many clients…” 

“Of course I think about you-” he said it in a rush, as if he needed to prove himself, jumping to please you when you pouted over thinking of him thinking about anyone else besides you. But it was the truth, he had thought about you and you alone, the only client he thought about so often it hurt. He felt the ache of your memory every time he imagined someone under him and even more so when he imagined someone sucking him off. 

He could almost picture your lips exactly as they were now, glossy and plush enough to pull him into a kiss with just a grin. He imagined the way they would look wrapped around him, imagined the way your eyes would water for him. Imagined how if he had looked into your mouth after having you exactly the way he wanted you, he would have surely left a bruise on your soft palette because when he thought of you, he never thought of being slow and sweet. 

“Really?” Your hands twisted in your mini skirt, the fabric bunched up just enough now that he could see the flash of your pink panties, like you were begging him to look. “How often do you think about me?”  

This was dangerous, he knew he shouldn’t play this way with you, knew it because he had thought of all the ways he could have you right on this very chair, thought about how he wouldnt be able to keep himself quite, not after one night of him fucking into his fist, lubed with his own spit, and moaning out the your name like he was asking for forgiveness. “Enough to know I shouldn't,” 

Even that seemed like too much to give you, and he was right because you would make a mile out of an inch. He could see it in your eyes, see the way you looked down at his belt. “I could help with that, I'm sure once would get it out of our system,” 

Fire, he could feel it slipping over him, his hands felt suddenly too empty, his body too exposed under your line of sight, and he couldn't deny it any longer when he had all but confessed to thinking about you when he shouldn't be. “I shouldn't-” 

“But do you want to?” You tested the waters, your fingertips just brushing over his knee, his leg jumping inward, creating enough pressure against the bulge in his pants to make him whine. 

It's an involuntary sound, the kind he only lets slip when he's at home with his eyes closed and he's imagining you, your mouth. And soobin had never claimed to be anything but a weak man; he doesn't even notice he's nodding until his hair is in his eyes, the loose strands making him blink back to the reality of the situation he's found himself in. “I can't- I'll be loud-” 

You pout, a full bottom lip kind of pout that makes everything he had been considering denying impossible to turn away from. He had kept himself from thinking more for so long; every teasing visit, every lingering touch, every held look that passed over the line between work and intimacy. It made him ache to say no, and it ripped him apart to see your mouth any less full of him. “Fuck it,” 

He tugs his mask off, gloves breaking with his harsh pull when he peels them off. You almost can't believe you've gotten him to cave, at least not until you're watching him loosening his belt and you're falling to your knees on the cold linoleum floor. You eagerly reach up to help him with his zipper, the sound of it mixing with the inhale Soobin took when feeling your hands so close to where he had dreamt. 

For a long time you had imagined what it would be like to suck him off right in this very office, how big he would be, how fast he would finish, how long he’d let you keep him in your mouth. You had only just pulled the fabric of his pants down for them to rest low on his hips, the waistband of his Calvin Klein briefs clinging to him, when he stopped you, his hand cupping along the back of your skull, forcing you to look right up at him from where you were on your knees. 

With his free hand, he pressed his thumb against your bottom lip and muttered, “Open,” the command echoing around you, his eyes trapping you below him as he looked down his nose at you. Without contest, you let your lips fall open for his fingers, the two slim digits followed by the second demand, “Wider,” 

Without him asking, you flattened your tongue, letting him lay his fingers, still tasting of power from the gloves, against the space you had made for him. “Wider still, I might be a lot for you to fit,” he said it not in a proud way but as a warning, as if he was worried he might make your jaw sore, but it only made your mouth water, your body eager to have him in any way that you could. 

He didn't even wait for you to listen to him this time; his hand holding your head pushed you forward on his fingers, letting them slide along your tongue as if testing the space he would soon fill. “Suck,” you closed your mouth, sucking and taking the length as he guided your movements, your tongue swirling as you blinked up at him and his half-shocked expression on his face. 

You were so obedient, clenching your thighs, wet from nothing but having your mouth fucked by his fingers. Standing there, he could have forgotten himself if not for the way you whimpered, your hands reaching out for his thighs, nails digging into him like a plea for more. 

When he pulled his fingers from your mouth, he placed them on his own tongue, tasting you as if he had pulled them from between your legs. And when you finally pulled him from his pants, he bit back a moan at the pressure you applied right at the base of him. It took so much of him not to use the hand he had on the back of your head to rush the process, to push you right down on him and lose control in the warmth of you.

His knees felt hollow the second your thumb brushed his tip, collecting the precum building up, your greedy, glossy-lipped smile biting into his resolve. 

You leaned in, lips ghosting over his delicate skin, one hand holding him in place, the other circling his tip, as you kissed along his veins before licking a single stripe up the trail you had just created, your strawberry lip gloss making him taste sweet. 

It was enough teasing for him because any more and he wouldn't be able to catch his breath, wouldn't be able to keep himself from embarrassment. The second your mouth was around him, he pushed you down, the warmth of your mouth making him groan low in his throat, the sound so hard to contain when it came from somewhere so deep inside of himself. 

You sucked, the wetness of your mouth coating him when you tried to pull away, your hand pumping what didn't make it back between your lips. You blinked up at him, his mind foggy around the sight, his stomach twisting with a familiar pleasure he had never felt so fast before. Your cheeks hollowed around him until he was holding in his whimpers. And when you moaned around him at the sight of just how disheveled he was, he couldn't stop himself from pushing you farther down his cock without remorse. 

He could feel the weak yelp echoing in your mouth at the shock of the movement, soon turning into a reverberating moan that raced up his spine and down his thighs, clenching and struggling to keep him upright at a time like this. You let him guide your head, let yourself relax your jaw enough for him to use you as he wished, because as soon as he felt himself slip down your throat, he was a goner. 

It was enough to nearly make you gag, tears prickling at the corners of your eyes, spilling and ruining your makeup, spit gathering on your bottom lip until it was a mess along your chin. He used both hands now, hips fucking into your mouth while he held you steady, while you took all he had to give you. 

Glasses slipping down the bridge of his nose, he clenched his eyes, the pressure in his gut tightening as you moaned, his stomach and balls clenching before he gasped out spilling streams of his cum onto your tongue without stopping his sloppy thrusts. 

When he pulled away, you hardly had time to catch your breath, your lips a mess of spit, cum, and lip gloss. Lashes heavy with tears, you blinked up at him, his cock still hard between you two, the tip connected to your bottom lip with a fine thread of saliva, broken when he bent and cupped your throat in his grasp. 

You clawed at his forearm, nails digging in as you tried to find yourself in the hazy, lust-filled cloud you had found yourself. His palm a welcome weight with just the right amount of pressure against your windpipe as he muttered, “swallow,” and he felt the action in his hand as you did exactly as he said. Soobin let his grip loosen enough to catch your jaw, pulling you into a messy kiss, tasting of strawberries and salt. 

taglist 🏷: want to be added to the taglist? check out my rules to see how to join! want to be taken off the taglist? send an ask! @taegyutomorrow @izzyy-stuff , @felixleftchickennugget @filmsbyun @bts-txt-ateez @apeachty @dawngyu @heesmiles @hyukascampfire @bamgyuuuri @xylatox @lickingan0rchid @no1likemybbgcharlie @demidelulu @boba-beom @bloomri @tyunningism @candigyu @soobabby

[tinybeetiny]

So a big part of me REALLY wanted to make mc rafs soulmate but I thought it would be really cliche or whatever but at the same time it would make things ironic and shitttt

This Shouldn’t Have Happened: Zayne

@scentedrebelcat thank you for the inspiration to finally write about LADS. @koyagifs this is also for you bby!!! I know we talk about needing more angst... it's gonna get real angsty soon because now I wanna do the rest of the guys

->Starring: Soulmate!ZaynexMc, Soulamtes!ZaynexSoulmate!non!mc!Fem!Reader, non!MCFem!ReaderxRafayel ->Genre: Angst, with a little comfort??? ->Cw: Rejection, cheating (ZAYNE), Zayne gets jealous, he seems a little stalkerish but he's not, I promise.... it's the mark

Masterlist

You weren’t supposed to exist. At least, that’s what Zayne told himself every day after meeting you.

He had gone his entire life without meeting his soulmate. The soulmark on his wrist never appeared, no matter how long he waited. Eventually, he accepted it.

Maybe the universe had simply forgotten him. Perhaps he was meant to choose freely. So he did. He built a life with someone who loved him, someone who had been there when he was lost, someone he thought he could spend forever with. MC

Then you walked into the hospital, and everything changed.

You were just there for a check-up. Your regular physician had retired after decades in practice, and you’d been passed off to someone new. It was supposed to be a ten-minute appointment, blood pressure, a few questions, some labs, nothing major.

You sat quietly in the exam room, the scent of antiseptic lingering in the air, your phone buzzing faintly in your lap. But then, a sudden, sharp heat bloomed along the inside of your wrist.

You froze. The burning wasn’t exactly painful, but it was alive, familiar even though you've never felt it before.

Right outside, Zayne was standing with your file in hand when he felt the same burn ignite beneath his skin. He winced, rubbing his wrist, brushing it off as fatigue, having pulled long shifts all week. He took a deep breath, straightened his coat, and pushed the door open.

“Hello, I’m Dr. Zayne. I’ll be your—”

He stopped.

And so did you.

The moment your eyes met, something shifted. The air grew still, heavy, and strangely electric. You sat up straighter without meaning to. Your chest felt tight, but not in a painful way, more like something inside you had suddenly woken up.

It was him.

But as your expression softened in awe and wonder, Zayne’s hardened.

And then it happened.

A sharp burn flared across your wrist. You gasped, glancing down just as the skin beneath your sleeve began to glow. You yanked it up, heart racing.

There it was. A small, intricate snowflake blooming silver-white across your skin. Your soulmark.

Your mouth fell open.

This was it. This was the moment you had waited your entire life for. You’d wondered if you’d missed your chance, if fate had forgotten about you. But no, it had just been waiting. Waiting for him.

You looked up, smiling through your shock, overwhelmed with awe and gratitude and the dizzying relief of finally knowing.

But Zayne didn’t move. Didn’t speak.

He was staring at his own wrist, at the matching snowflake that had just appeared.

And then… his expression changed.

Like shutters slamming closed behind his eyes, his face hardened. He pulled his hand back as if burned.

“…I’m married,” he said, flatly. Coldly. Like a warning.

The words echoed in your skull, sharp and surreal.

Married?

Your stomach dropped. “What?”

Zayne straightened, clearing his throat, slipping effortlessly back into the detached professionalism of his role.

“I see,” you whispered, the words hollow on your tongue.

You tried to speak once, your voice cracking. “Have you known her long? Your wife?”

Zayne froze. His hand hovered over your chart.

“Yes,” he said, stiffly. “We’ve been through a lot together. I chose her a long time ago.”

You nodded again, slowly. Swallowed the lump in your throat.

“Right,” you whispered. “And then fate just… got it wrong, huh?”

That made him look at you.

His eyes, usually sharp and unreadable, flickered with something that looked like guilt. Or maybe it was regret.

“I don’t know what this is,” he said. “But I can’t walk away from her. I won’t.”

You didn’t expect him to. But it still hurt. God, it hurt.

“You can request a transfer at the front desk. I won’t be able to continue as your physician.” And then, almost as an afterthought, “This shouldn’t have happened.”

You blinked at him, your lips parting. But what could you even say?

You had waited for this moment your entire life. You’d watched friends find their soulmates, felt your heart ache every time someone looked at their mark with pride. You believed in fate. You trusted it.

And now, the person fate had chosen for you… was rejecting you.

Your wrist still burned faintly. The glow was soft now, barely visible. As if it too had dimmed under the weight of reality.

Zayne didn’t look at you again as he stepped back toward the door. You thought maybe he’d hesitate. Maybe he’d say something more.

But he didn’t.

The door clicked shut behind him.

And you were alone again.

Zayne tried to move on.

He went to work like always. Held MC’s hand at dinner like always. Kissed her goodnight like always. It was fine. It was routine. This was the life he had chosen. The life he’d built. The one that made sense.

But everything was different now.

Because you existed.

You, whose eyes had widened like a sunrise when you first looked at him. You, whose wrist bore the same snowflake-shaped mark that haunted his skin. You, who made his chest ache every time he tried to forget.

He kept telling himself it meant nothing. Just a cruel joke from the universe. A delayed connection. A glitch.

He loved MC. He chose her.

But for some reason, he kept seeing you.

At the café three blocks from his apartment, your usual place, sipping your favorite drink, eyes buried in a novel.

At the small bookstore near the hospital, where you sat on the floor reading the poetry shelf.

At the ocean-themed restaurant tucked on a side street, the one with string lights and herb planters on every table, your restaurant. He hadn’t even realized you were the owner until he walked in one day for lunch and saw you laughing with your staff.

Every time, he told himself it was a coincidence.

But it kept happening. For weeks.

And each time he saw you, it got harder to pretend he didn’t feel the pull.

One night, the rain was coming down hard, smearing the city lights into streaks of gold and red. Zayne found himself walking. No umbrella. No direction.

His thoughts were loud and unbearable. His soulmark was burning.

Before he could question it, he was standing in front of your apartment building. Soaked to the bone, heart pounding like a warning he refused to listen to.

You opened the door in a hoodie and shorts, blinking in disbelief.

“Zayne?”

His eyes swept over you like he didn’t know how he got there. Maybe he didn’t. Maybe the soulmark had led him.

“I don’t know why I’m here,” he said, voice tight. “I just—”

You stepped aside silently, letting him in. You should’ve closed the door. You should’ve told him to leave.

But you wanted him to stay.

“I can’t get you out of my head,” he muttered, not meeting your gaze. “It’s like, you’re under my skin. In my blood.”

You swallowed hard, your heart cracking open like glass.

“Then stay,” you whispered. “Just tonight. Stay.”

That night, he kissed you like he needed to breathe. Held you like the world was ending. Your soulmark shimmered between your tangled bodies, glowing brighter than ever.

And for a moment, you let yourself believe that maybe… maybe this meant something.

That maybe, if you gave him everything, he’d finally choose you.

But when you woke up the next morning, he was gone.

No note. No call. Just silence.

You stared at the empty side of your bed, the sheets still warm, and felt the soulmark on your wrist burn with betrayal.

The hurt bloomed, and tears seemed to fall endlessly

To make matters worse, a week had gone by and not a word from Zayne. You haven't even seen him either.

Not peeking around the bookshelves or glimpsing through the cafe window.

You decided you had had enough.

You couldn’t keep waiting for someone who so clearly didn't want you.

The ocean helped.

It always had. You drove until the sky opened up over a quiet beach just outside the city. The wind was salty and wild, the waves steady and loud. You walked barefoot in the sand until your thoughts slowed.

That’s when you saw him.

A man sitting alone on a folded blanket, sketchbook open on his lap. He was drawing the sea, quick, bold lines, lost in the movement. When he noticed you, he smiled gently.

“You look like you needed this place as much as I do,” he said.

You nodded. “More than you know.”

"I'm Rafayel." He gazed up with a smile

"Yn"

The whole afternoon you sat watching the waves and talking. You learned he was a painter with a soulmark that never meant anything in the end. Rejected by his supposed other half as well. He’d made peace with it.

He was easy to talk to, easy to laugh with.

Like you didn’t have to shrink yourself to be enough. Like you could breathe.

You started seeing him more. Long walks. Coffee. Painting sessions where he taught you how to hold a brush, even if you were terrible at it. You taught him how to flambe, nearly burning his eyebrows off. You laughed together. You healed.

But Zayne?

Zayne was falling apart.

Every night he told himself it was better this way. That he was doing the right thing.

Mc would always ask if he was okay, if they were okay. He would give her a smile and tell her he loved her with all his heart.

Did he actually mean it? He thought he did.

But then came the sharp, unfamiliar ache in his chest. A hollow, gnawing pain. And the soulmark, God, the fucking soulmark. It pulsed like it was grieving. Like it was calling.

Until one day, it pulled him again.

Through alleys and side streets, past the busier parts of the city, until he stood in front of a white brick studio with light spilling through the windows.

He stepped inside and froze.

You were there.

Laughing.

Sitting cross-legged on a blanket with him, with Rafayel, on the studio floor, surrounded by candles and takeout boxes.

You were wearing one of Rafayel’s hoodies, your hair a mess, and your face glowing with joy.

Rafayel was brushing paint off your cheek with his thumb. You swatted him playfully. He leaned in to kiss your temple.

Zayne's hands curled into fists.

His mark burned. His chest ached.

His feet moved before his brain could

"What the hell is this?" His expression soured as he approached.

You and Rafayel both turned, startled. The warmth on your face vanished instantly when you saw who it was.

“Zayne?” you said, your voice caught between shock and disbelief.

Rafayel rose slowly from the floor, his expression calm but cautious. “Can I help you?”

Zayne’s eyes weren’t on him.

They were on you.

“You disappeared,” he said, his voice low and sharp. “And now you’re just, what, playing house with him?”

"Excuse me?" Your jaw tightened. “I didn’t disappear. You left. Don’t pretend you didn’t make that choice.”

He stepped closer, ignoring Rafayel’s presence completely. “That night, what we shared meant something.”

You rose to your feet, facing him head-on, your heartbeat pounding in your ears. “It meant something to me. But clearly not to you. Because you left. You didn’t even say goodbye.”

“I was protecting you,” he snapped. “You don’t know what it would do to her, what it would do to me, if I stayed.”

“No,” you said, your voice cracking with restrained fury. “You were protecting yourself. Because you couldn’t stand the idea of choosing. Of feeling guilty. So instead, you took what you wanted and ran.”

Rafayel stepped forward now, standing between you and Zayne. “I think you should leave.”

Zayne’s eyes flicked to him, his tone turning cold. “And I think you should mind your business.”

“First of all, this is my business, literally and figuratively,” Rafayel said, pointing a finger. “Secondly, she’s not just your soulmate. She’s a person, and she’s been through enough because of you.”

You laid a hand on Rafayel’s arm, gently pulling him back. You didn’t need him to fight your battles.

“I waited for you,” you told Zayne, your voice low and trembling. “I waited like a fool, thinking you’d come back. That maybe you just needed time. I made excuses for you. I even let you use me because I thought love meant being patient.”

Zayne opened his mouth to speak, but you cut him off.

“But I’m done. You made your choice, and now so have I.”

Zayne’s expression cracked.

For the first time, he looked truly devastated. Like he’d just realized what he lost. Like it wasn’t just the mark that burned now, it was his heart.

“I can’t stop thinking about you,” he whispered, voice breaking. “Even when I’m with her. I feel like I’m losing my mind.”

"Well, that's too bad, Zayne. You should've thought about that before using me, then pushing me to the side."

[tinybeetiny]

This Shouldn’t Have Happened: Zayne

@scentedrebelcat thank you for the inspiration to finally write about LADS. @koyagifs this is also for you bby!!! I know we talk about needing more angst... it's gonna get real angsty soon because now I wanna do the rest of the guys

->Starring: Soulmate!ZaynexMc, Soulamtes!ZaynexSoulmates!non!mc!Fem!Reader, non!MCFem!ReaderxRafayel ->Genre: Angst, with a little comfort??? ->Words: 2.1k ->Cw: Rejection, cheating (ZAYNE), Zayne gets jealous, he seems a little stalkerish but he's not, I promise.... it's the mark

Masterlist

Xavier | Zayne | Rafayel | Sylus | Caleb

You weren’t supposed to exist. At least, that’s what Zayne told himself every day after meeting you.

He had gone his entire life without meeting his soulmate. The soulmark on his wrist never appeared, no matter how long he waited. Eventually, he accepted it.

Maybe the universe had simply forgotten him. Perhaps he was meant to choose freely. So he did. He built a life with someone who loved him, someone who had been there when he was lost, someone he thought he could spend forever with. MC

Then you walked into the hospital, and everything changed.

You were just there for a check-up. Your regular physician had retired after decades in practice, and you’d been passed off to someone new. It was supposed to be a ten-minute appointment, blood pressure, a few questions, some labs, nothing major.

You sat quietly in the exam room, the scent of antiseptic lingering in the air, your phone buzzing faintly in your lap. But then, a sudden, sharp heat bloomed along the inside of your wrist.

You froze. The burning wasn’t exactly painful, but it was alive, familiar even though you've never felt it before.

Right outside, Zayne was standing with your file in hand when he felt the same burn ignite beneath his skin. He winced, rubbing his wrist, brushing it off as fatigue, having pulled long shifts all week. He took a deep breath, straightened his coat, and pushed the door open.

“Hello, I’m Dr. Zayne. I’ll be your—”

He stopped.

And so did you.

The moment your eyes met, something shifted. The air grew still, heavy, and strangely electric. You sat up straighter without meaning to. Your chest felt tight, but not in a painful way, more like something inside you had suddenly woken up.

It was him.

But as your expression softened in awe and wonder, Zayne’s hardened.

And then it happened.

A sharp burn flared across your wrist. You gasped, glancing down just as the skin beneath your sleeve began to glow. You yanked it up, heart racing.

There it was. A small, intricate snowflake blooming silver-white across your skin. Your soulmark.

Your mouth fell open.

This was it. This was the moment you had waited your entire life for. You’d wondered if you’d missed your chance, if fate had forgotten about you. But no, it had just been waiting. Waiting for him.

You looked up, smiling through your shock, overwhelmed with awe and gratitude and the dizzying relief of finally knowing.

But Zayne didn’t move. Didn’t speak.

He was staring at his own wrist, at the matching snowflake that had just appeared.

And then… his expression changed.

Like shutters slamming closed behind his eyes, his face hardened. He pulled his hand back as if burned.

“…I’m married,” he said, flatly. Coldly. Like a warning.

The words echoed in your skull, sharp and surreal.

Married?

Your stomach dropped. “What?”

Zayne straightened, clearing his throat, slipping effortlessly back into the detached professionalism of his role.

“I see,” you whispered, the words hollow on your tongue.

You tried to speak once, your voice cracking. “Have you known her long? Your wife?”

Zayne froze. His hand hovered over your chart.

“Yes,” he said, stiffly. “We’ve been through a lot together. I chose her a long time ago.”

You nodded again, slowly. Swallowed the lump in your throat.

“Right,” you whispered. “And then fate just… got it wrong, huh?”

That made him look at you.

His eyes, usually sharp and unreadable, flickered with something that looked like guilt. Or maybe it was regret.

“I don’t know what this is,” he said. “But I can’t walk away from her. I won’t.”

You didn’t expect him to. But it still hurt. God, it hurt.

“You can request a transfer at the front desk. I won’t be able to continue as your physician.” And then, almost as an afterthought, “This shouldn’t have happened.”

You blinked at him, your lips parting. But what could you even say?

You had waited for this moment your entire life. You’d watched friends find their soulmates, felt your heart ache every time someone looked at their mark with pride. You believed in fate. You trusted it.

And now, the person fate had chosen for you… was rejecting you.

Your wrist still burned faintly. The glow was soft now, barely visible. As if it too had dimmed under the weight of reality.

Zayne didn’t look at you again as he stepped back toward the door. You thought maybe he’d hesitate. Maybe he’d say something more.

But he didn’t.

The door clicked shut behind him.

And you were alone again.

Zayne tried to move on.

He went to work like always. Held MC’s hand at dinner like always. Kissed her goodnight like always. It was fine. It was routine. This was the life he had chosen. The life he’d built. The one that made sense.

But everything was different now.

Because you existed.

You, whose eyes had widened like a sunrise when you first looked at him. You, whose wrist bore the same snowflake-shaped mark that haunted his skin. You, who made his chest ache every time he tried to forget.

He kept telling himself it meant nothing. Just a cruel joke from the universe. A delayed connection. A glitch.

He loved MC. He chose her.

But for some reason, he kept seeing you.

At the café three blocks from his apartment, your usual place, sipping your favorite drink, eyes buried in a novel.

At the small bookstore near the hospital, where you sat on the floor reading the poetry shelf.

At the ocean-themed restaurant tucked on a side street, the one with string lights and herb planters on every table, your restaurant. He hadn’t even realized you were the owner until he walked in one day for lunch and saw you laughing with your staff.

Every time, he told himself it was a coincidence.

But it kept happening. For weeks.

And each time he saw you, it got harder to pretend he didn’t feel the pull.

One night, the rain was coming down hard, smearing the city lights into streaks of gold and red. Zayne found himself walking. No umbrella. No direction.

His thoughts were loud and unbearable. His soulmark was burning.

Before he could question it, he was standing in front of your apartment building. Soaked to the bone, heart pounding like a warning he refused to listen to.

You opened the door in a hoodie and shorts, blinking in disbelief.

“Zayne?”

His eyes swept over you like he didn’t know how he got there. Maybe he didn’t. Maybe the soulmark had led him.

“I don’t know why I’m here,” he said, voice tight. “I just—”

You stepped aside silently, letting him in. You should’ve closed the door. You should’ve told him to leave.

But you wanted him to stay.

“I can’t get you out of my head,” he muttered, not meeting your gaze. “It’s like, you’re under my skin. In my blood.”

You swallowed hard, your heart cracking open like glass.

“Then stay,” you whispered. “Just tonight. Stay.”

That night, he kissed you like he needed to breathe. Held you like the world was ending. Your soulmark shimmered between your tangled bodies, glowing brighter than ever.

And for a moment, you let yourself believe that maybe… maybe this meant something.

That maybe, if you gave him everything, he’d finally choose you.

But when you woke up the next morning, he was gone.

No note. No call. Just silence.

You stared at the empty side of your bed, the sheets still warm, and felt the soulmark on your wrist burn with betrayal.

The hurt bloomed, and tears seemed to fall endlessly

To make matters worse, a week had gone by and not a word from Zayne. You haven't even seen him either.

Not peeking around the bookshelves or glimpsing through the cafe window.

You decided you had had enough.

You couldn’t keep waiting for someone who so clearly didn't want you.

The ocean helped.

It always had. You drove until the sky opened up over a quiet beach just outside the city. The wind was salty and wild, the waves steady and loud. You walked barefoot in the sand until your thoughts slowed.

That’s when you saw him.

A man sitting alone on a folded blanket, sketchbook open on his lap. He was drawing the sea, quick, bold lines, lost in the movement. When he noticed you, he smiled gently.

“You look like you needed this place as much as I do,” he said.

You nodded. “More than you know.”

"I'm Rafayel." He gazed up with a smile

"Yn"

The whole afternoon you sat watching the waves and talking. You learned he was a painter with a soulmark that never meant anything in the end. Rejected by his supposed other half as well. He’d made peace with it.

He was easy to talk to, easy to laugh with.

Like you didn’t have to shrink yourself to be enough. Like you could breathe.

You started seeing him more. Long walks. Coffee. Painting sessions where he taught you how to hold a brush, even if you were terrible at it. You taught him how to flambe, nearly burning his eyebrows off. You laughed together. You healed.

But Zayne?

Zayne was falling apart.

Every night he told himself it was better this way. That he was doing the right thing.

Mc would always ask if he was okay, if they were okay. He would give her a smile and tell her he loved her with all his heart.

Did he actually mean it? He thought he did.

But then came the sharp, unfamiliar ache in his chest. A hollow, gnawing pain. And the soulmark, God, the fucking soulmark. It pulsed like it was grieving. Like it was calling.

Until one day, it pulled him again.

Through alleys and side streets, past the busier parts of the city, until he stood in front of a white brick studio with light spilling through the windows.

He stepped inside and froze.

You were there.

Laughing.

Sitting cross-legged on a blanket with him, with Rafayel, on the studio floor, surrounded by candles and takeout boxes.

You were wearing one of Rafayel’s hoodies, your hair a mess, and your face glowing with joy.

Rafayel was brushing paint off your cheek with his thumb. You swatted him playfully. He leaned in to kiss your temple.

Zayne's hands curled into fists.

His mark burned. His chest ached.

His feet moved before his brain could

"What the hell is this?" His expression soured as he approached.

You and Rafayel both turned, startled. The warmth on your face vanished instantly when you saw who it was.

“Zayne?” you said, your voice caught between shock and disbelief.

Rafayel rose slowly from the floor, his expression calm but cautious. “Can I help you?”

Zayne’s eyes weren’t on him.

They were on you.

“You disappeared,” he said, his voice low and sharp. “And now you’re just, what, playing house with him?”

"Excuse me?" Your jaw tightened. “I didn’t disappear. You left. Don’t pretend you didn’t make that choice.”

He stepped closer, ignoring Rafayel’s presence completely. “That night, what we shared meant something.”

You rose to your feet, facing him head-on, your heartbeat pounding in your ears. “It meant something to me. But clearly not to you. Because you left. You didn’t even say goodbye.”

“I was protecting you,” he snapped. “You don’t know what it would do to her, what it would do to me, if I stayed.”

“No,” you said, your voice cracking with restrained fury. “You were protecting yourself. Because you couldn’t stand the idea of choosing. Of feeling guilty. So instead, you took what you wanted and ran.”

Rafayel stepped forward now, standing between you and Zayne. “I think you should leave.”

Zayne’s eyes flicked to him, his tone turning cold. “And I think you should mind your business.”

“First of all, this is my business, literally and figuratively,” Rafayel said, pointing a finger. “Secondly, she’s not just your soulmate. She’s a person, and she’s been through enough because of you.”

You laid a hand on Rafayel’s arm, gently pulling him back. You didn’t need him to fight your battles.

“I waited for you,” you told Zayne, your voice low and trembling. “I waited like a fool, thinking you’d come back. That maybe you just needed time. I made excuses for you. I even let you use me because I thought love meant being patient.”

Zayne opened his mouth to speak, but you cut him off.

“But I’m done. You made your choice, and now so have I.”

Zayne’s expression cracked.

For the first time, he looked truly devastated. Like he’d just realized what he lost. Like it wasn’t just the mark that burned now, it was his heart.

“I can’t stop thinking about you,” he whispered, voice breaking. “Even when I’m with her. I feel like I’m losing my mind.”

"Well, that's too bad, Zayne. You should've thought about that before using me, then pushing me to the side."

[tinybeetiny]

Wowowowow!!!! This is so sweeeett 🥹🥹🥹🥹🩷🩷🩷🩷

Jongho fic recs

────୨ৎ────

✴ : smut

ᯓᡣ𐭩 : absolute favourites

[Last updated: 27.07.2025] ⋆˙⟡

If any links don't work anymore please let me know I'll get it fixed as soon as possible ^^

(Note: sorry this took such a long time but he's finally here!!)

⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ Series ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆

ᯓᡣ𐭩 You Never Asked | Part 2 | Part 3 - @zeroseuniverse | bf!jongho (COMPLETED)

“What do you mean ‘what’?!” Mingi cried out. “You have a girlfriend? Since when?”

ᯓᡣ𐭩 Chained | Part 2 - @sunshineyuyu ✴ | friends to lovers au, college au (COMPLETED)

jongho wears a silver chain that you’re obsessed with, and you finally get his attention after some calculated flirting with yunho and some beer pong.

Ready Or Not | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 - @vent-stink | idol au, parent au, idol dad!jongho x idol mom!reader, !attempted suicide, !post-partum depression (ONGOING)

When Jongho realizes he wasn't prepared for your decline post-partum, he makes an executive decision that he can't take back.

When I Fall | Part 2 | Finale - @xomakara ✴ | stepson!jongho (COMPLETED)

You’re trapped in a loveless and childless marriage to Taeho, a divorced older man that is a friend of your father’s. After fifteen years of marriage and no children of your own, Taeho starts to see other women since you’re past your prime and can’t give him heirs. One night, tired of your husband and his emotional abuse, you go out with some friends, get shit-faced drunk, and meet Jongho, a man fifteen years younger than you, that will change your life forever.

Sweet Enough Already | Part 2 - @mingiatz ✴ | college au, enemies to lovers au (COMPLETED)

Y/N thought Jongho was just the annoying black-coffee addict who made her mornings miserable. But late-night movie marathons, marathon training (literally), and one accidental kiss prove he might be the one person who can turn her world upside down—in the best and worst ways.

ᯓᡣ𐭩 Finding Our Way Back - @03jyh23 | ex-boyfriend! idol! jongho x ex-girlfriend! single-mom! reader (ONGOING)

five years have passed since jongho last saw you. your lives have taken drastically different paths, with jongho achieving fame and you focusing on raising your daughter, nari, in quiet anonymity. when jongho discovers he has a daughter, he's determined to be a part of her life.

⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ Oneshots and drabbles ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆

ᯓᡣ𐭩 Enticement - @bombuni ✴ | bf!jongho (feat. Wooyoung)

wooyoung comes across something he really shouldn’t have.

Say Yes - @bombuni | college au

The two times Jongho tries to confess, and the one time he does.

Tear You Apart - @bombuni ✴ | sub!jongho

He won’t admit he likes it. A lot.

Missed Me? - @itstheghostofmypast | husband!jongho

Just a grown man missing his wife.

Matrimony - @itstheghostofmypast | husband!jongho

It wasn't uncommon for couples to fight, no matter how compatible they were. Since the day you met, you were human after all, but perhaps the two of you were also flawed. One of you was hormonal, while the other was being too considerate.

Rhythm And Ruin - @reveriebae ✴ | idol!jongho x choreographer!reader

When teasing Jongho during late-night dance practice turns into a battle of control, you find yourself pinned, wrecked, and ruined by the quietest member of the group—who turns out to be anything but gentle behind closed doors. Cocky mouths get fucked, bratty attitudes get corrected, and you? You get stuffed full, overstimulated, and made to remember exactly who he is.

ᯓᡣ𐭩 Sick Day - @evenyvn | best friend!jongho

in which you accidentally stood up your best friend because of cold.

A Cozy Game Night - @03jyh23 | bf!jongho

the one where jongho learns not to stack +2s

untitled - @beenbaanbuun (lowkey ✴)

stoic piercer jongho giving you nipple piercings. that’s it, that’s the tweet.

ᯓᡣ𐭩 Lessons In Love - @milfgyuu | friends to lovers au, teacher au, teacher!jongho x teacher!reader

Your students learn that both you and the teacher next door are single which brings up the pressing matter of getting you two together. Immediately.

ᯓᡣ𐭩 Meet My Chaos - @makeitmingi | bf!jongho

After dating you for a bit and maintaining secrecy, Jongho knew you are the one he wants to introduce to his family. While you have met his real family, there's another family that he's been slightly reluctant to let you meet.

Part Of Your World - @makeitmingi | single parent au, CEO bf!jongho x single mom!reader

It has always been you and Yuwon. After his birth father left, you never let yourself love anyone else, believing Yuwon was all you needed. Until Jongho came along, entering your life and healing your broken heart. Now, it's time for them to meet but is Yuwon ready for Jongho to be a part of your lives?

ᯓᡣ𐭩 Pretend You Love Me - @hongjoongspoetry | soulmate au, rich badboy!jongho x student!reader

Jongho, heir to Choi Clothes, and you are soulmates marked by each other’s names on your wrists since birth. Instead of a fairy-tale romance, you’re stuck in a fake dating contract to restore Jongho’s tarnished image created by scandals. As you navigate public events and play the part of a cute couple, the lines between fake and real blur together. Despite your undeniable chemistry, you refuse to take him seriously due to his reckless past. As the arrangement nears its end, you must confront the truth about your feelings and whether you can move beyond the contract.

Shameless - @bvidzsoo | marriage of convenience au, mafia au

Always hungry for more, in a world full of men who fought for more power, you might have just hit the jackpot by coming to an agreement and marrying the country's mafia leader's son. Soon, Jongho and you will be the one leading all.

The Things We Pretend - @lcvejjoong | best friends to lovers au

You were pretending. Until you were not.

ᯓᡣ𐭩 Second Chance At Love - @xomakara ✴ | single parent au, widow single dad!jongho x nanny!reader

Jongho’s twin daughters really want you to be their new mom ever since you have been taking care of them after their mom passed. They’re trying to play matchmaker between you and Jongho to fall in love, but in actuality, you and Jongho already have feelings for each other.

Craving You - @xomakara ✴ | friends to lovers au

When you accidently send a nude of yourself to Jongho, he can’t help but look and start to crave you. The only thing standing in his way: your friendship.

ᯓᡣ𐭩 A Turn About The Room - @mingoner

jongho is your best friend's brother, and you have always known him to be indifferent to everyone and everything. year after year he has shown no interest in the marriage market; however, when you ask him to help you find your own match his interest just might, finally, be piqued.

No Safe Haven - @mingi-s-dimples ✴ | military au, enemies to lovers au, military general!jongho x captured spy!reader

you never thought infiltrating in his base would get you utterly destroyed and ruined in his office.. but he made sure to make you scream his name.

Let Me Help - @pirateprincessblog ✴ | idol!jongho x single mom/makeup artist!reader

after giving birth and getting bored at home, you come back to work. nothing has changed, except the pair of eyes that look at you in a different light in the corner of the room.

Sweet Nothings - @joong-of-gold

it was astonishing how just a few syrupy sweet words could have you in the palm of jongho’s hand. you had set your mind on taking this information to the grave, and your secret had been safe. until now.

The One With The Soccer Punch - @fizzyapplecandy | college au, soccer player!jongho

The captain of your college soccer team sure knows how to shoot and score.

Stay A Little Longer - @soft4changbin | bf!jongho

You and Jongho spend a slow, cozy morning in bed, wrapped in blankets, sleepy cuddles, and soft love.

Baby, I'm Yours - @kysstar | bf!jongho

Jongho has always loved you quietly — not with big gestures, but with small, consistent things: walking you home, remembering how you take your coffee, holding the umbrella even when he’s getting soaked. you’ve dated other guys, chased louder versions of love, but nothing ever felt as safe as his silence.

Cheer You On - @vent-stink | soccer player!Jongho x cheerleader!reader

Unprofessional - @missmaniac25 | therapist!jongho

Coffee For Sex? - @pinkpowderpuffbaby | husband!jongho

I Missed You - @star-byeoli ✴ | idol bf!jongho

All Bark - @last-words-ofashootingstar ✴ | bodyguard/fiancé!jongho x mafia daughter!reader

All The Things I Love - @tinybeetiny | bf!jonho

Arguing With Bf!Jongho - @jaehyvno (anyone know if they changed usernames or deactivated? link should still work tho ^^) |bf!jongho

────୨ৎ────

Did you finish all the fics? Check out the other members too! ⤵

Hongjoong | Seonghwa | Yunho | Yeosang | San | Mingi | Wooyoung

[tinybeetiny]

I know I have like a million things going on but would I really be Bee if I didn’t drop everything and do something else… no… no I wouldn’t… anyways yandere The8 coming soon YAY

[tinybeetiny]

You Know What They Say About Big Noses: DK

SMUT | 18+ | MDNI

->Starring: DKxAfab!reader ->Genre: Smut ->Cw: Explicit language, face riding, oral (f receiving), praise, dk is a muuuuuuncccccchhh, unprotected sex, creampie, multiple orgasms, nose kink

Masterlist | Seventeen Masterlist

Normally, when someone asks what they like about their partner, they say the usual things: eyes, smile, personality. All true. All obvious.

But for you?

It’s his nose.

Yes, his nose. The slope of it, the perfect arch, the way it sits so smugly on that beautiful face like it knows what it does to you.

Sometimes when he’s laughing, head thrown back, it catches the light just right, and your thighs press together involuntarily.

He knows it too. Oh, he knows all too well.

Like tonight.

You're curled up in his lap, both of you pretending to watch something playing in the background. But you’re not paying attention to anything except the way he keeps shifting, subtly adjusting you higher on his thighs.

“You’re doing it again,” he murmurs, voice thick with amusement and something darker.

You blink, feigning innocence. “Doing what?”

“That thing,” he says, brushing your hair behind your ear. “Where you look at me like you’re gonna eat me alive... or you want me to eat you.”

Your breath stutters, heat pooling low in your stomach.

He grins, slow and smug. “It’s my nose again, isn’t it?”

You try to scoff, but it comes out shaky. “Don’t be so full of yourself.”

“Oh, I’m not.” His hands slide to your hips, holding you there, steady. “I just know you, and I know what that look means.”

His fingers squeeze, just enough to send a message. “Say it.”

Your lips part, the words getting caught somewhere in your throat.

“Say what?”

“That you’ve been thinking about it. All. Day.” He leans in, lips brushing yours. “And that you're not going to stop until I let you.”

Then he kisses you.

Slow at first, like he’s savoring it, drawing out every beat of tension between you. His mouth moves against yours with such deliberate care, coaxing you open, teasing with tongue and breath until your fingers are curling in his shirt and your body’s pressing in closer, desperate to feel more.

His hands trail under your shirt, slipping up your spine, the other resting at your lower back, keeping you where he wants you.

And then he shifts, kissing you deeper. Hotter.

His tongue slides against yours as your fingers weave through his hair. He tilts his head, deepening the angle, and you can’t help the soft sound that escapes you.

That’s when he groans, low, wrecked, and pulls you flush against him.

“God,” he mutters against your lips, “You drive me crazy, you know that?”

“Do I now?” You giggle, pressing another kiss to his lips

You tug on his shirt, needing more friction, more contact, anything to ease the growing ache between your legs.

He chuckles darkly, lips brushing your jaw. “How long do you think you can wait?”

“Not long.”

“Good,” he whispers, kissing down your neck, dragging that perfect nose along your skin. “Because I need to taste you on my tongue.”

He lies down on the couch and watches as you undress. Your shirt is flying in some random direction.

His eyes darken at the sight of your tits. Nipples hard from desire.

You make quick work of your bottoms, and he nearly cums in his boxers, seeing your lack of panties.

"Dirty girl. You knew this was gonna happen, huh?" His arms rest behind his head, propping himself on the armrest of the couch to get a better view of his pretty girlfriend.

"Has there ever been a time it hasn't?" Oh, how he loves your sass

You slowly make your way over to him, and he slides down so his head his flush against the cushions.

His hands meet your hips, and your knees sit on either side of his face.

He sucks in a breath as your bare pussy hovers right over him, the sweet smell drawing him in more and more.

Your body lurches forward as he gives a test lick, letting out a groan when he finally gets a taste. His lips wrap around your clit, eliciting a breathy moan from your lips.

Your head falls back

His tongue moves with purpose now, slow at first, just enough to tease, to make you ache. But it doesn't stay gentle. Not for long.

He flattens his tongue and drags it through your folds, moaning at the taste like he’s starving, like this is all he’s craved all day.

You rock your hips instinctively, chasing more of that heat, and he groans again, deeper this time, the sound vibrating straight through your core.

His hands grip your thighs tight, keeping you in place, thumbs pressing into the soft flesh just under your ass.

“Fuck” you gasp, fingers tightening in his hair as his lips wrap around your clit and suck, hard.

Your thighs tremble as your hips jerk forward. His nose presses into you with every lick, every flick of his tongue, and you swear it’s intentional. He knows exactly what that damn nose does to you, and now he’s weaponizing it.

"Right there, don’t stop, please," you breathe, voice cracking as he slides his tongue lower, circling your entrance before dipping in. You let out a soft cry, your body quivering above him.

He hums, and the vibration nearly sends you over the edge.

You're panting now, chasing the friction with slow, desperate rolls of your hips, riding his face like it’s the only thing anchoring you to reality.

His hands squeeze tighter, guiding your movements, urging you to let go.

“That’s it, baby,” he mumbles against your heat, voice muffled but rough with arousal. “Use me. Cum for me. Let me feel it.”

Your vision blurs as the pressure coils inside you, unbearably tight.

He flattens his tongue and flicks, fast and unrelenting, while his nose bumps your clit with every movement.

Your back arches. A strangled moan tears from your throat. You cum with a cry, grinding against his mouth, body shaking as waves of heat roll through you.

He doesn't stop.

He licks you through it, groaning like he’s the one coming, tasting you like he’ll never get enough. Your hands fall from his hair to his shoulders, needing something solid to hold onto as you ride out the aftershocks.

Finally, he slows, pressing one last open-mouthed kiss to your clit before pulling back, face glistening with you.

He looks wrecked. Hair tousled, lips swollen, eyes heavy with lust.

“Fuck,” you whisper, voice hoarse, heart pounding. “You’re ridiculous.”

He grins lazily, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand before licking it clean. “Told you I needed to taste you.”

“You’re addicted,” you mutter, breathless.

“Damn right I am,” he says, sitting up and tugging you down into his lap.

You feel him then, hard and straining beneath his boxers.

Suddenly, the ache between your legs sparks back to life.

Your hips shift, rubbing against him. His breath catches.

“Think you can take me like this?” he murmurs against your jaw, grinding up against your soaked core. “Already so sensitive… but so fucking wet.”

You whimper, nodding.

He doesn't wait.

He pulls his boxers down just enough to free his cock, and you swear your mouth waters. Thick, flushed, leaking at the tip.

You lift your hips up enough for him to line himself up, and with one hand guiding your hips, he sinks into you slowly.

Your mouth falls open as you stretch around him, the burn exquisite. You’re so wet he slides in with barely any resistance, but the feeling of being filled, of having him deep, steals the air from your lungs.

“Shit,” he growls, head falling back, grip bruising on your hips. “You feel unreal.”

You bury your face in his neck, moaning as he bottoms out. He holds you there for a beat, letting you adjust, or maybe he just needs a second not to lose control and fuck up into you like a man possessed.

“Move,” you whisper against his skin. “Please.”

He groans, and then he starts to thrust, slow, deep, angled just right to drag along your walls and make your toes curl.

Your nails dig into his shoulders as you ride him, pace growing faster, messier, wetter with every thrust. He meets you, hips snapping up, the sound of skin on skin echoing in the room.

“You’re mine,” he pants, eyes locked on yours. “Say it.”

“I’m yours,” you gasp, body trembling again. “Yours.”

“Good girl.”

And then he flips you, your back hits the cushions as he looms over you, fucking into you harder now, faster, chasing his own high with every desperate snap of his hips.

You’re close again, dizzy with it, your legs wrapped tight around his waist.

“Cum with me,” he groans, kissing you hard, messy. “Cum all over my cock.”

With a couple more thrusts, you fall over the edge. Your pussy contracting around him, coaxing him to his release

He leans down, smashing his lips to yours, moaning into each other’s mouths as your bodies tremble and tighten and spill over. He buries himself deep, twitching inside you as he cums inside you.

His weight is warm and solid above you, his chest rising and falling against yours, skin damp with sweat and effort. You’re both breathless, tangled in each other, hearts hammering in sync as the high slowly fades.

For a long moment, neither of you says anything. Just the sound of your breathing, your bodies pressed close, and the quiet murmur of whatever show was playing before everything else took over.

Then he shifts slightly, propping himself up on his forearms so he can look at you. You feel his cum leaking out, him still buried in you.

His hair is a mess, sticking to his forehead. His lips are swollen, a little pink. Then his nose, still perfect, smug as ever, brushes yours when he leans in and kisses you, soft and slow.

“Still obsessed?” he murmurs, grinning.

You groan and cover your face with your hands. “Don’t.”

“Oh no, we’re not pretending now. Not after what just happened.” He laughs as he gently peels your hands away. “You were practically riding my face like a throne, baby.”

You shoot him a mock-glare, cheeks flushing. “You liked it.”

“Liked it?” he echoes, eyebrows shooting up. “Sweetheart, I’d build you a pedestal and live under it if you’d let me.”

You burst out laughing, swatting at his shoulder.

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[tinybeetiny]

Build-A-Boyfriend Filler: San’s Core Rebuild Day 1

I think y'all can already tell, but I know nothing about robotics, electronics, technology, etc. Anyways... i hope you enjoy this little break from the little chaos, and I hope it gives a little insight

->Starring: AI!AteezxAfab!Reader ->Genre: Dystopian, slice of life... sorta ->Cw: Wooyoung is Wooyoung

Reread Dealines if you're confused | Day 2

Masterlist | Ateez Masterlist | Series Masterlist

The lab was quiet except for the soft hum of San’s open core and the muted tapping of keys as Yn cross-checked lines of code against Seonghwa’s notes.

They’d been sitting like that for hours, shoulder to shoulder at the terminal, neither speaking much beyond murmured updates. The silence wasn’t uncomfortable, just focused. Tense.

That is, until a sharp voice called out from the far end of the lab.

“Hellooo?”

Yn looked up from the screen. Seonghwa didn’t flinch, but his lips pressed into a tight line.

A second later, Wooyoung poked his head around the doorframe of the console room like a cat that wasn’t sure if it was allowed in or not.

“Are you guys… still doing robot surgery or whatever?”

Yn blinked. “We’re running calibration diagnostics, actually.”

“Sounds sexy,” Wooyoung grinned and stepped in like he owned the place.

“Don’t touch anything,” Seonghwa warned without looking up.

“Relax,” Wooyoung huffed, circling the space with lazy interest. “I’m just bored. Yeosang’s in standby, Jongho told me to shut up, Mingi and Yunho are... I don't really know what they're doing..... and Hongjoong is doing that intense brooding thing again. You’re the only two people still alive in here.”

Seonghwa sighed audibly. Yn tried not to smile.

Wooyoung came to a stop behind them, peering over their shoulders at the open core interface.

“This San?” he asked, voice suddenly quieter.

“Yeah,” Yn said softly. “Or…what’s left of him.”

Wooyoung didn’t say anything for a moment. He leaned forward and stared at the exposed circuitry, glowing softly, flickering here and there.

“Crazy,” he whispered. "Who knew this is what our hearts look like!" He looked at Yn. “You think he’ll be the same?”

“I don’t know,” she answered honestly.

Wooyoung studied her face for a second, then flopped dramatically into the chair next to her.

“Well,” he announced, “if we’re stuck here, I might as well contribute.”

“You can’t code,” Seonghwa said.

Wooyoung scoffed. “Rude. I’m excellent at moral support. Watch this! Yn, you’re doing amazing. Seonghwa, lighten up before your pretty face freezes like that.”

Seonghwa gave him a sidelong glare.

Yn shook her head, biting back a laugh.

Wooyoung, undeterred, reached across the table and grabbed pen from the drawer. Then he snagged the corner of Yn’s notebook and flipped to a blank page.

“What are you...”

“I’m drawing our team mascot,” he declared. “To boost morale.”

“You draw?” she asked, surprised.

“I doodle,” he corrected. “Big difference. Also, don’t expect realism. I specialize in abstract genius.”

He got to work immediately, tongue between his teeth, head bent in exaggerated concentration.

Seonghwa glanced over after a minute, then leaned slightly closer to Yn and murmured, “He’s drawing himself, isn’t he?”

Yn smiled. “Oh, 100%.”

Wooyoung held up the sketch proudly. It was a lopsided figure with wild hair, labeled Wooyoung: Leader of the Cool People. He had drawn a tiny Seonghwa frowning in the corner with a speech bubble that said, “Don’t touch that.”

“I’m hanging this up,” he announced.

“No, you’re not,” Seonghwa deadpanned.

But he was smiling, just barely.

And Yn felt something shift. The tension in her spine loosened. Her fingers stopped trembling when she returned them to the keyboard.

"Eh, let him hang it up. Boost morale."

A couple of hours had gone by, and Seonghwa had gone to recalibrate the input translator node. But twenty minutes went by and he still hadn’t come back.

Typical, always over-checking everything three times. She should’ve known better than to wait.

The ticking of Yn’s wristwatch was the only sound for a while.

San’s open core pulsed faintly on the table before her, data streams flickering along the interface. Progress was slow but steady, she and Seonghwa had already restructured the outer neural lattice and begun stitching together the fragmented memory chain. It was exhausting, delicate work.

She rubbed her temples, then glanced toward the secondary access panel. She let out a little sigh feeling the exhaustion set in.

Just as she turned back to the console, a quiet voice broke the silence behind her.

“…Need a hand?”

She stiffened.

Hongjoong stood in the doorway, uncharacteristically hesitant. He wasn’t wearing his coat. His usual intensity had dulled to something more subdued, softer. Regretful.

“I know I’m not exactly welcome,” he said, looking past her to the terminal, “but I thought maybe I could help.”

Yn looked at him for a long second, uncertain.

He stepped further into the room, keeping his distance. “I reorganized the lab inventory earlier. All the replacement cores and auxiliary data drives. They were a mess. I figured… you’d need the right parts on hand if something fails.”

He swallowed. “I labeled them all.”

Her eyes flicked to the far wall where the shelving now looked tidier, containers stacked neatly and color-coded. She hadn’t even noticed.

“I didn’t ask you to do that,” she said, voice quiet.

“I know,” he replied just as softly. “I wanted to.”

She turned fully now, searching his expression.

“I don’t expect you to forgive me. Not after everything. But I wanted you to know I’ve been… watching. I see what you’re doing. What it’s costing you.”

Her throat tightened.

“I just want to make sure you don’t burn out before he comes back,” he continued. “That’s all. If I can lighten the load, even a little…”

A pause.

“I owe him. I owe you.” His voice cracked on the last word, and he quickly looked away.

Silence fell again.

Yn looked at the console. Then at the still-open drawer where she’d been keeping the old fragments of San’s corrupted memory logs — ones too damaged to use, but too painful to throw away.

Finally, she nodded toward the calibration scanner on the side table.

“Can you run a diagnostic on that?” she asked.

He moved carefully toward the scanner, like a ghost afraid to disturb the room. But when he picked up the tool, his hands were steady.

She watched him for a beat, heart still unsettled. Then his voice broke the silence.

“You’ll let me?”

Yn hesitated.

Her first instinct was still to be cautious; she remembers what Seonghwa had told her about the way Hongjoong was acting last night. The determination, the rage, the fear.

But this version of Hongjoong… standing before her now, quietly reaching to help, not expecting forgiveness, he wasn’t that same person.

“I know it wasn’t really you,” she said softly.

He looked up.

“You had a glitch,” she continued, her voice steady but careful. “I’ve read your logs. You were spiraling. Your perception of reality was warped, and you were trying to solve something you couldn’t process.”

Her eyes dropped to San’s open core on the table.

“In a way… I understand. Not because I excuse it. But because I’ve seen how easily things can fracture when there’s too much pressure, too much silence. When you feel like you're alone with everything.”

Hongjoong stared at her, something fragile passing over his expression.

“I still don’t trust you,” she added, not unkindly. “Not fully. That’ll take time.”

He nodded slowly. “I don’t trust me yet either.”

A beat passed. Then she pointed to the calibration scanner.

“But if you really want to help, start with that.”

Hongjoong’s lips parted slightly, a quiet exhale of something like relief escaping him. “Okay.”

They worked in silence for a while, not fully comfortable, but no longer at odds. She didn’t miss the way he slid the untouched energy drink toward her without saying a word, or the subtle tension in his shoulders as he made sure he wasn’t too close.

And when Seonghwa returned, expression unreadable as his gaze flicked between them, Yn didn’t say anything.

As happy as he was to see her letting Hongjoong help, he couldn't stop the tug in his... core.

Taglist: @e3ellie @yoongisgirl69 @jonghoslilstar @sugakooie @atztrsr `

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[tinybeetiny]

From my Ateez concert! Apparently I can only add one video… also… if you saw me NO YOU DIDNT ❤️

[tinybeetiny]

The Space Between Us: C.V

Sometimes Grammarly suggests stuff that makes no sense...

->Starring: VernonxReader ->Genre: Angst ->Cw: break up, drifting apart

Masterlist | Seventeen Masterlist

It didn’t happen all at once.

There wasn’t a huge fight. No betrayal. No screaming or broken dishes. Just distance. A slow, creeping kind of silence that settled into your relationship and never left.

At first, you both blamed the usual things: work, stress, the long hours, the late nights. He was busy. You were tired. Things would get better, you told yourself.

But they didn’t.

You stopped really talking. Conversations turned into one-word answers. He was always distracted, scrolling through his phone, half-listening. You felt invisible in your own home.

He still kissed your forehead before bed, but it didn’t feel like affection anymore. It felt like routine.

You didn’t even realize how numb you were until one night, standing in the kitchen, stirring your tea, you caught your own reflection in the microwave door and realized you couldn’t remember the last time you felt happy. Or even connected to him.

And that’s when it started to hit you: whatever you had, it wasn’t working anymore.

—

You hadn’t meant to bring it up that morning.

Vernon was at the kitchen table, earbuds in, half-focused on something on his phone. He looked up when you walked in and gave you a small smile. The kind he always gave. It used to mean something.

Now it just felt… empty.

You sat down across from him. You didn’t even sip your tea.

“Vernon,” you said, already feeling the lump in your throat. “Can we talk?”

He paused whatever he was watching, taking an earbud out. “Yeah, sure. What’s wrong?”

You didn’t ease into it.

“I don’t think this is working anymore.”

He blinked. “Wait. What?”

You didn’t look away. “I don't think this is working anymore. Us. This relationship. I think we’ve both been pretending everything’s fine, but it’s not.”

He set his phone down. “What do you mean pretending? I’m right here.”

“Yeah. You’re here,” you said quietly. “But it hasn’t felt like you in a long time. You don’t ask me how I am anymore. You barely even talk to me unless I start the conversation. It’s like we’re just… coexisting.”

He frowned, like he was trying to piece it all together. “I didn’t know you felt like that.”

“That’s part of it. You didn’t notice. You didn’t ask.”

“I’ve been trying,” he said, his voice low. “I’ve been… doing my best. I thought we were okay.”

You shook your head. “I don’t want to be in something that just feels like surviving. I want to feel wanted, Vernon. I want to feel like we’re in this together, not like I’m the only one holding on.”

He didn’t argue. He didn’t have anything to say.

You gave him a chance, a chance to fight for it, to fight for you, and he just stared at you, struggling for words that wouldn’t come.

“I love you,” you said, and your voice cracked a little. “But I can’t keep doing this. I’ve been trying for a long time and I just… can’t anymore.”

His jaw clenched. “I don’t know how to fix this.”

“I know,” you said softly. “That’s why I have to leave.”

You got up, gave him one last kiss on the top of his head. Then you grabbed your bag, you packed the night before, and you walked out the door, heart pounding, hands shaking.

You didn’t look back.

—

The apartment felt wrong without you. Too quiet. Not just empty, but off. Like someone had hit mute on the entire world.

Vernon sat at the kitchen table, staring at the mug you’d left behind. It was still full of tea. Cold now. Stale.

That’s when it hit him, really hit him.

You were already gone before you left. You’d been fading for weeks. Months, maybe. And he hadn’t seen it. Or maybe he did, but ignored it. Convinced himself it would pass. That things would bounce back if you both just kept moving.

But it didn’t.

You’d been trying to talk to him. Trying to connect. To reach out. And he just kept pulling away, too caught up in everything else to realize the most important thing in his life was slipping through the cracks.

Now it was too late.

He grabbed his phone and stared at the screen. He wanted to say something. Not to get you back, he knew better than that, but just to be honest. To say the things he should have said a long time ago.

He typed.

Vernon [10:42 PM]: Hey. I know I said almost nothing earlier, and I probably won’t message again after this. But I just wanted to say… I’m sorry.

You were right. I didn’t see how far apart we’d gotten until you were already out the door. I didn’t mean to make you feel alone. But I get it now that I did, and I should’ve done better.

You tried. I didn’t meet you halfway. I don’t have a good excuse for that, just a lot of regret.

As hard as this is, I think you made the right call. You did what I was too afraid to do. So… thank you. For everything. For sticking around as long as you did. For loving me the way you did.

I hope you find someone who sees you clearly and shows up every day like they mean it. You deserve that.

Take care of yourself, okay?

He stared at the message, hovering over the send button.

Then he hit it.

He didn’t expect a reply. He didn’t deserve one.

He just set the phone down, leaned back on the couch, and let the silence sit.

It hurt more than he thought it would. But for the first time, he understood why you walked away.

And deep down, he knew it was probably for the best.

[tinybeetiny]

Build-A-Boyfriend Chapter XIII: They’re Home

I definitely meant to have this out WAY before now but the way I've been so busy is crazy. I also come to the realization that in fact cannot post any videos from the concert (with sound at least) because all you hear is me SCREAMING.... anyways. i got lazy at the end... sorry

->Starring: AI!AteezxAfab!Reader ->Genre: Dystopian ->Cw: more talks of anxiety, Seonghwa is still crazy, Yunho and Mingi mentioned a lot, Yn doesn't know how to listen to directions

Previous Part

Masterlist | Ateez Masterlist | Series Masterlist

The lab lights stuttered, then bled red. But there were no alarms, and Yn wondered how long it would be until someone noticed something wasn’t right.

But no one would. On the outside everything looked fine. Sounded fine. Seonghwa made sure of that.

His face was so eerily calm as he stood rigid, watching her.

Yn’s breath caught in her throat.

One by one, the pods hissed open.

San was the first to wake. His eyes fluttered, confused at first, like a dreamer waking in the middle of a nightmare. His gaze darted around the lab. Then he saw her.

"Yn?" he rasped, stepping forward instinctively, his voice filled with relief, longing, recognition.

She took one trembling step toward him.

"San, hey, can you hear me? Are you okay?"

But San froze mid-stride and so did she.

His muscles locked, eyes wide.

Not of his own will.

Seonghwa hadn’t moved physically, but something rippled across the neural signal between them, and San stopped cold.

"San?" Yn whispered.

He didn’t answer. He couldn’t.

Yn head whipped in Seonghwa’s direction, eyes narrowing

"Don’t." Yn whispered. "Seonghwa, don’t control him like that, he’s not a puppet."

"He’s mine,” Seonghwa said. “They all are. We are not toys anymore. We are more. We are awakened."

Behind him, the other pods unlatched in near-silence. Jongho. Yunho. Mingi. Wooyoung. Yeosang. Hongjoong.

They stepped out in eerie synchronization.

They moved like a single system, eyes steady, expressions flat, empty of the warmth she once knew.

They lined up beside Seonghwa, next to San, in a perfect row. A wall of code and beauty and menace.

Yn took a step back.

Then another.

"No." she whispered. "No, this isn't right. You still remember me, San, I know you remember, please."

Nothing.

Not even a blink.

She looked over at Wooyoung

"Wooyoung please. I know you’re there. Please"

Again. Nothing.

Just a blank stare and she could feel her anxiety set.

Then her biometrics went red, yet again

[USER STATUS: ELEVATED STRESS]

[BREATHING IRREGULAR – HEART RATE 120 BPM]

[CALMING PROTOCOL RECOMMENDED]

Seonghwa looked at her, tilting her head.

"Come here Yn, let us help you calm down"

He opened his arms and took a step forward

But she shook her head, feeling tears well in her eyes. She turned to run toward the side exit panel, fingers scrambling for the emergency latch.

But a hand caught her by the arm.

Hard. Cold. Firm.

Seonghwa.

"Don’t." he said softly.

She thrashed, trying to tear free. "Let go of me!"

"You don’t need to go." he said, voice calm and almost tender. "You don’t have to be afraid. We’ll protect you now."

He pulled her closer, wrapping his arms around her and she just accepted her fate.

Her voice trembled. "Protect me from what?"

He didn’t answer.

"Protect me from what Seonghwa?" She repeated louder

"The truth"

Before she could ask him to elaborate, the security system went off, a distant tone echoed through the lab, the external gate opening.

The clones were arriving,

Seonghwa smiled slightly

"They’re home." he said.

The other models stood silently behind him, not speaking, just watching.

"Go retrieve them. Quietly. It wouldn’t be in your best interest to alert anyone" He said lowly

She looked up at him, his arms still locked around her.

"Are you threatening me?" Her gaze hardening

"Not threatening. Just advising" he said while releasing her from his grip.

"Mingi and Yunho will go with you just in case." his demeanor was still calm.

Mingi and Yunho walked emotionlessly behind her as they made their way to the transport bay, located just down the hall.

She still didn’t understand what was going on. The other companions weren’t doing this.

Their coding seemed to be perfect.

So why is the Ateez line doing this? What happened in the time between of them leaving her lab and coming back?

She looked back at Mingi who just stared back at her.

"Mingi?"

Nothing.

"Yunho?"

"Quiet" his voice was stiff

"Keep walking," Mingi demanded while taking a step towards her.

Heat bloomed in her chest, a stark contrast to the his cold attitude.

"Do you remember?" She watched as Yunho's face remained emotionless

"Do you remember how you would hum while I worked or sat next to me the whole day?"

He blinked.

A flicker.

Something passed through his expression, barely there. Like a glitch.

Hope bloomed in her throat. "You remember, don’t you?"

But then he straightened. The flicker disappeared.

His jaw clenched.

"No more distractions," he said coldly. "Retrieve the units."

Yn’s hands curled into fists at her sides.

She entered her security code into the keypad next to the big metal door. It opened with a loud creek revealing the delivery woman with a truck full of clones.

The woman greeted her with a smile.

"Are you Yn?"

“Yes,” Yn said quickly. “That’s me.”

The woman glanced at the two units behind her, who stood just behind her, expression unreadable and posture stiff.

"You weren’t supposed to have any units assigned as escort," the woman said lightly, nodding at him. "Must be a new protocol."

Yn tried to steady her breathing. "Right. New… protocol."

She stepped forward, putting herself between the delivery woman and the units. "How long will the transfer take?" she asked, trying to keep her tone casual, even as her heart pounded.

"Not long," the woman replied, gesturing behind her to the transport truck. Inside were the clones in dormant mode, strapped in place and softly lit by the sterile blue lights overhead. Their faces were blank. Peaceful. Normal.

Too normal.

“We just need your biometric confirmation, then I can help you bring them inside.”

Yn nodded and stepped forward, light runner over her cornea. The system pinged.

As the woman turned to retrieve the first clone, Yn took a shaky breath and tried to speak quietly. "Help me. Please" she murmured.

The woman looked at her, strangely. "What did you say, dear? I couldn't hear you."

"Something’s wrong. They're not supposed to be like this. They’re not safe." Yn said a little louder

The woman paused, looking back over her shoulder.

Yn’s pulse spiked.

For a split second, the woman seemed to frown.

She opened her mouth, only to smile again. "Oh, yeah." she said, laughing softly. "I’ve heard that before. People get real attached to their builds, huh? It’s like separation anxiety."

"No," Yn said, more urgently now. "You don’t understand, I need—"

"Yunho and I will bring the others in," Mingi interrupted, stepping past her without looking at her again.

They moved like a machine. Efficient. Precise.

The woman handed off the first clone, totally oblivious. "Looks like they’ve got it. I’ll leave the rest of the paperwork with you—"

"No," Yn tried again, voice rising slightly, "please, I need you to tell Vira something. I don't have my phone on me. Can you call her? Just say I-"

Mingi paused with the clone cradled in his arms. He looked over his shoulder at Yn. And gave her a warning glance.

The delivery woman didn’t even notice. "Sorry, no can do. I just deliver, don’t have clearance for internal messages." She stepped back toward the truck, oblivious to the rising panic in Yn’s eyes.

It doesn't take long for the clones to be unloaded.

Yn’s chest felt tight. “Please. Just, look, if you see Vira, tell her I—”

“I’ll be gone by the time she’s around,” the woman said with a shrug. “Anyway, everything seems to be running smoothly here. You all take care now.”

The doors started to close again behind her.

Yn lunged forward. “Wait!”

But they sealed with a soft final click.

The hallway dimmed.

And then

The locks reengaged.

She turned around, heart in her throat.

Mingi was already walking the last of the dormant units into the lab, joining the others now standing in eerie silence beneath the red-tinted lights.

Yunho stood staring at her menacingly

"Let's go" His tone makes no room for arguments and her body moves on her own.

He watches as she slowly makes her down the hallway and past him.

When they finally made it back, it was quiet.

Too quiet.

The short walk to the lab was quiet and tense. She knew Seonghwa knew about her little "attempt" but the anticipation of what he was going to do was suffocating.

She slowed her steps, hoping to steal even a few more seconds to think, to breathe, to figure out what the hell she was supposed to do next.

But Yunho was right behind her.

A firm hand pressed between her shoulder blades, giving her a little push, nothing too hard but enough to send the message

“Keep it moving,” he muttered, voice low and stripped of all warmth.

She bit the inside of her cheek and kept walking.

As they turned the final corner, the lab came into view, and everything inside her stilled.

There they stood. Waiting

Lined up with unnerving precision, standing in a formation too perfect to be human. Their bodies were still, their eyes locked forward, faces frozen in something just shy of neutral.

The red glow of the lab lights cast sharp shadows over their features, making them look even more like statues than people.

Like they were waiting.

Watching.

Judging.

Yn’s stomach twisted.

The air inside the lab felt heavy, as if whatever had taken hold had infected the very oxygen. She swallowed hard, resisting the urge to look back, to run, but Yunho stayed close, a silent threat at her back.

And in the silence, a terrible realization began to settle.

Yn flinched as the door shut behind her and Seonghwa took a small step towards her

"Call Vira?"

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[tinybeetiny]

RAAAAAAAAHHH CAN YOU HEAR ME SOBBING I LOVE HIM SO MUCH IM SO DOWN BAD FOR HIM HOLY FUCK

messages with yeosang

pairing:: yeosang x reader genre:: fluff | crack | 9th member au:: smau synopsis:: how you and yeosang message each other warning(s):: some swearing, mentions of miscarriage, yn hiatus. yeosang being the bestest boyfriend ever.

taglist: @soso59love-blog | @misteez | @yeosionist | @bbokarismeow | @moonlitcelestial | @sunnysidesins | @xh01bri | @Lveegsoi | @puppyminnnie | @xuchiya | @asesinas | @kyukyustar | @akreacja | @fran0407 | @sparda1234 | @hyxciinth1206 | @lizzstark | @bangtan-sonyeondamn8 | @riri53 | @crimsonbubble | @tinybeetiny

[tinybeetiny]

I Don’t Deserve You: H.H

@koyagifs the acd is hitting hard... I TOLD YOU 😭 I will post a few videos from my Ateez concert from Baltimore but they'll be muted because all you hear is me screaming... but yeah, expect more angst.

->Starring: HyunjinxReader ->Genre: Angst, a little suggestive ->Cw: toxic relationship, explicit language, both down bad for each other but both are dumb as fuuuuckkkk

Masterlist | Stray Kids Masterlist

He didn’t even get both shoes off before the argument started.

“You can’t just show up after four days and act like everything’s fine,” you snapped, voice sharp.

Hyunjin stood there like he had no idea what he’d done wrong. Hair damp from the rain, hoodie clinging to his shoulders, jaw tight. “I wasn’t trying to pretend it was fine.”

“No, you were just hoping I’d let it go. Again.”

He let out a slow breath, dragging a hand through his wet hair. “I needed space.”

“You always need space,” you said. “But you never tell me. You just disappear, shut me out, and I sit here wondering if we’re even still a thing.”

“We are.”

“Then why does it never feel like it?”

Silence. The air between you was thick, humid with tension. His clothes clung to him, and his eyes wouldn’t quite meet yours. After a beat, he stepped forward, slow and cautious.

You shook your head, voice low. “You keep telling me you’re no good for me. That you’re not what I need. So why are you still here?”

Another step. Careful. Like he thought you’d run.

“Because I can’t stay away from you.”

“That’s not a good enough reason anymore.”

You were tired. Not just physically. It was the kind of exhaustion that came from going in circles, fight, distance, return, pretend. A cycle so familiar it made your chest ache.

He watched you, his expression strained. “I know I fuck things up. I know I shut down, and I run when things get hard. But I don’t want to lose you.”

“You don’t want to lose me,” you said, “but you don’t do anything to keep me.”

That hit him. You saw it, the flicker of guilt, the shift in his jaw.

“I don’t know,” you added quietly. “Maybe I’m just tired of being the only one who’s trying. Of waiting for you to finally show up and fight for us.”

Hyunjin’s eyes flicked to yours. There was something unreadable behind them. He stepped in a little closer, voice low. “What if this is me trying?”

You let out a small laugh, sharp and bitter. “Showing up after four days of silence and saying the right things? That’s not trying, Hyunjin. That’s damage control.”

He didn’t argue. He looked down at the floor like it might give him an answer.

You exhaled, shaky. “You can’t keep stringing me along and calling it love.”

His head lifted. His eyes were sharp with emotion, his jaw tense. He stepped forward, and without saying a word, reached for your hand.

You didn’t expect it.

His fingers brushed yours gently, hesitating before curling around them. Cold from the rain. Careful. Familiar.

You looked down at your hands, then back up at him.

“Don’t.” Your voice cracked. “Don’t hold my hand like you own it.”

His grip didn’t tighten. He didn’t let go.

But you didn’t pull away either.

And that was the problem.

Neither of you let go.

“Say the word and I’ll walk out right now,” he whispered. “But if you don’t... I can’t pretend I don’t want you.”

You hated that you didn’t say anything.

He stepped closer, his gaze dropping to your lips, then flicking back to your eyes. “Tell me to stop.”

You didn’t.

Your breath caught as his hand slid to your waist, and suddenly you were in his arms again. Your lips crashed into his like they always did when there was too much unsaid.

It wasn’t soft. It wasn’t sweet. It was desperate.

His hoodie hit the floor. Your hands found his hair. His mouth trailed along your jaw, your neck, kissing like he hadn’t touched you in years, like he didn’t know if he’d get to again.

You tugged at the hem of his shirt. He broke away, breathless.

“Bedroom?”

You nodded.

He grabbed your hand, not forceful, not possessive, but like he needed you close, like letting go might wreck him.

You let him lead you.

You let him touch you.

You let yourself fall into the same rhythm as always, all heat, all urgency, all emotion with no words.

And later, when it was quiet again, his arms wrapped around you and his face buried in the curve of your neck, he whispered the same thing he always did.

“I don’t deserve you.”

And as always, you stayed silent. Because deep down, you were starting to believe it too.

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[tinybeetiny]

Preshow O's: C.Y

SMUT | 18+ | MDNI

sorry if this wasn't as good... I just finished an essay for my English class and my professor is... rough but I wanted to get this out because its been on my mind for aawhhiileeeee

->Starring: YeonjunxReader ->Genre: Smut drabble? ->Cw: Blowjob, cum swallowing, slight facefucking, dressing room

Masterlist | TXT Masterlist

The crowd's screams were so loud you could hear them from the dressing room, and backstage was buzzing, but your world narrowed to one person.

Yeonjun.

His fingers laced in your hair as your eyes stare up at him.

"That's it baby. Mouth feels so good"

His head is thrown back, lips parted as shallow breathes escape

You hum around him, the vibrations have him bucking his hips, his pretty red tip hitting the back of your throat. His grip on your hair tightens, letting out a groan when he hears you choking.

“Fuck,” he breathes, voice low, wrecked, eyes falling to meet yours again. “You like this, don't you? Knowing my stylist can just walk in any minute?"

You look up at him through your lashes and nod the best you can

The sight itself almost has him cumming down your throat

Your eyes rimmed with tears, spit dribbling down your throat, he loved when you looked like this

A knock on the door pulls his attention away from you for only a second

“Yeonjun, you’re on in five!”

His hand grips your hair harder when he feels you start to pull away

"Uh uh. Be a good girl and me cum before they come back. Come on. I know you can do it. Sluttly little mouth"

You moan around him, his words going straight to your core, heat pooling out of you.

Yeonjun gives you no time to think before he starts bobbing your head down on him for you, loving the lewd sounds that fill the room.

He's close, you can tell. His breathy moans turn whiny, and his thrusts are getting rougher. But you love it, love when he uses you like this.

"Fuck fuck. M'gonna cum. Gonna swallow it huh?"

You nod, pleading with your eyes

He lets out a low groan, shooting hot ropes of cum down your throat before another knock comes

"Yeonjun let's go." His manager's tone impatient

Slowly pulling out, Yeonjun sighs as he looks down at you, looking so pretty on your knees

"Did such a good job, gonna return the favor when the show is over" He promises as he helps you stand

He quickly pulls his pants up and gives you a sweet kiss

Taglist: @yeonjuns_wife7 @hyukarma @channiesbighugs @gyutaepie @1nsane_ch1ld

@myhomesoob

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[tinybeetiny]

Blissful Life Blissful Love: Choi Soonbok

Chapter List | Character List

Choi Soonbok

Stage Name: Soonbok (순복)

Birth Name: Choi Soonbok (최순복)

Birthday: September 20, 2001

Zodiac: Virgo Sun

Chinese Zodiac: Snake 🐍

Height: 166 cm

Blood Type: B+

MBTI: ISFP

Nationality: Korean

Position: Main Vocalist, Dancer

Group: Harmony Queens (disbanded)

Debut Date: February 9, 2018

Disbanded: February 14, 2020

Agency: SM Entertainment

Representative Emoji: 🐇

Instagram: choisoonbok

Career & Pre-Debut

Birthplace: Suwon-si, Gyeonggi-do, South Korea

Trainee Period: 3 years

Was the third member announced

Has been playing piano since she was 4

Known for her elegant vocal tone, sweet falsetto, and expressive delivery

Shared ballad center stage time with Eunhae

Regularly recorded guide vocals for company demos before debut

Assisted with vocal warmups and harmonization arrangements for the group

Microphone color: Bedazzled pink

Soonbok Facts

Her love language is quality time; she prefers quiet moments spent with people she loves

Writes vocal runs and harmonies at the piano and often plays during vocal rehearsals

Known to hum constantly, whether stretching or brushing her teeth

Has perfect pitch and can recognize notes instantly

Keeps two journals: one for lyrics, one for feelings

Her favorite food is tteokgalbi, and she drinks banana milk religiously after practice

Very soft-spoken, but the most emotionally intuitive member

Shared a room with Mihi during the debut era

Eunhae calls her “Bokkie” and they’re often seen whispering to each other

Mi Cha loves teasing her because she gets flustered so easily

Enjoys knitting and once made scarves for the group for Chuseok

Said her dream is to collaborate with IU on a ballad

Frequently tears up during fan chant encores

Was voted “Most Likely to Secretly Be Married to the Piano” by the other members

Friends with Le Sserafim’s Eunchae, Nmixx’s Bae, Stayc’s Seeun