Playing With Fire Masterlist

playing with fire masterlist

sugardaddy!seonghwa

when your scholarship falls through during the last semester of your college career, you were, admittedly, on edge. 

overwhelmed by the prospect of delaying your graduation to save up thousands of dollars or work a second job or, per the suggestion of your roommate, sell pictures of your feet. 

you first met park eunbi during your first year of college, when she walked through your dorm room with a smile on her face and her parents by her side - or, more notably to you, her incredibly handsome father. 

that’s all he ever was to you though - your friend’s hot dad who you only ever saw a few times a year. 

but when you find yourself around him more and more often, your attraction growing and his eyes lingering, you suddenly find yourself in a situation you know is wrong but can’t seem to pull yourself out of. 

❥ part 1

❥ part 2

❥ part 3

❥ part 4 

❥ part 5

status: complete

tag list: @mochibabycakes @atinyarmyx1 @middle-of-a-wonshua-sandwich​ @baekhvuns​ @marksflvr​ @bunbaebae​ @markleeyeosang​ @inkigayeo​ @nlost21​ @hyunjeansuniverse​ @cherryeonii​ 

social media au

summary; one drunk night out will turn your finally easy life into a trainwreck, and lead your upstairs neighbors to become far more than what you anticipated.

pairing; woosan x fem reader (she/her)

contents; cursing, bad jokes/humor, name calling, sexual jokes, mean!wooyo, cheating, poly, unnecessary drama (yk, the usual)

started: 14/01/22

[disclaimer] remember this is a work of fiction, the characters do not portray any of the people mentioned accurately.

let me know if you want to be added to the tag list!!

profiles: the three musketeers // woosan and company

01: girls night out

02: fake number

03: hate to love uh la la

04: time to be spontaneous

05: it had to be him

06: what are you hiding

07: i feel dirty

08: why do men

09: win her back

10: mingi has a crush

11: my time to shine

12: friends can make out

13: i hate jung wooyoung

14: the perfect man

15: i had to bleach my eyes

16: are you jealous

17: night walks and others

18: just yell and run

19: busy making friends

20: held hostage

21: booty call

22: a bet

22.1: i can be your chair

23: let women win

24: homemade pasta

25: two dates

25.1: knowledge is power

26: more than a friend (📝)

27: just tell him

28: track his phone

28.1

29: soon

30: soon

into the aurora -- chapter two (ot8)

chapter two: on the road

summary: you didn't expect to run into choi san outside of the venue, especially when your phone was dead and you were stranded in a random city. a kind offer for a phone charger turns into so much more, and you end up falling into a relationship with all eight members of ateez.

warnings: none for this chapter. please let me know if I missed any.

pairings: ot8 x reader

genre: fluff, angst, romance, ateez ensemble x reader, polyamory, non-idol!reader, fem!reader, eventual smut

word count: 4.6K

(previous chapter) (next chapter) | AO3 | Wattpad

chapter summary: you spend the night tour bus and overhear a conversation about you, dance practice, san gets flirty

In the little bathroom of the tour bus, you practice a breathing exercise trying to get it together. Your eyes flick away from looking at yourself in the mirror to your hands which grip the sink. You’ve just finished changing out of your outfit from the show and into some extra clothes from San. His oversized black tour t-shirt is double the size on your small frame and hangs loose off your shoulders. It almost fully covers the bike shorts that you were thankfully wearing under your pants for extra warmth. On your way back to the bathroom Seonghwa had handed you a pack of makeup wipes and makeup remover, so you finish wiping your skin clean and splash some cold water on your face. It feels oddly real now. Before in the green room it was more like a strange dream, but here in the bathroom of the tour bus you can hear the guys just outside the door laughing at something on TV, snacking, and shouting over each other. When you first shut the door to the bathroom, you also heard them whispering about you – and while you couldn’t make everything out you definitely heard your name a few times.

With a final deep breath, you fluff up your hair a bit and dry your face before sliding open the door and stepping back out to the main section. On either side of you are top and bottom bunks, eight in total, with pull across curtains. Some of the curtains are pulled closed, while others are open, and you try and guess who’s bunk is who’s based on some of the items amongst the pillows and tangled sheets.

After you pass the bunks is the main section of the bus, long built-in couches against the walls and additional seating in the very small kitchenette. You stand back for a few moments, still somewhat between the bunks, and survey the group in their relaxed, post show natural habitat.

Mingi lounges on the floor of the bus, leaning back against the couch, and stretching out his long legs on the floor. Yeosang sits behind him cross legged on the couch, with Yunho behind him, engrossed in something on his phone. Wooyoung lounges long on the opposite couch, his head in San’s lap who was facing away from you, angled towards the TV, and laughing loudly.

At the kitchenette table, Hongjoong clicks away on his MacBook, headphones on alongside Jongho who was reading a slim book you can’t make out the title of from this far away. Seonghwa is perched on the edge of the bench at the table, his leg bouncing gently as he scrolls on his phone.

You can’t help but smile, an hour ago they were still decked out in their show outfits and makeup and here they all are in hoodies and loungewear laughing at the same shows you usually watch on Thursday nights. You take another step forward and clearly catch Seonghwa’s eye as he jumps up from his spot on the bench, grabbing a cup off the table as he does. “Ah,” he says, making his way over to you, “here,”

You accept cup from him gratefully, the warmth nice against your cold hands. “Thank you,”

Seonghwa nods, “Some tea to help you sleep.”

“Oh y/n, come sit by us!” Wooyoung leans up for a moment, waving you over and gesturing to the thick cushion on the floor by the couch he and San rest on. You make a slight bow in thanks to Seonghwa again before heading over and easing yourself down onto the comfortable seat. Wooyoung leans back down, laying his head against San’s thigh once again and you see from this spot you are looking down at him, the feeling of San’s knee behind you as you tuck up close to them.

Wooyoung pulls a long piece of gummy candy from a plastic wrapper resting on his stomach and catches one end between his teeth, “So…. Atiny,” he wags his eyebrows at you suggestively, “which one of us was the best at the show tonight?”

Your mouth drops open and you laugh, “Oh no,” you shake your head, “that’s a trick question.”

San’s hand falls on your shoulder, “Good answer,”

Wooyoung laughs along and passes you one of the gummy candies from the pack. Before you can say anything else the next show starts up and everyone hushes your corner of the van. Everyone turns their attention back to the screen, Wooyoung excitedly clapping at the first scene. San’s hand stays resting on your shoulder, slipping down to settle on the back of your neck, his thumb occasionally stroking against your skin. It’s not clear yet what’s happening there, whether it’s fan service, or if San’s just touchy, but your heart does a little flip as you try to focus not on his hand or the men around you, but just the TV and just relax.

You stay quiet, nursing your tea and getting nudges from Wooyoung at the funniest moments of the variety show. After some time has passed, the energy in the bus quiets down, the buzzing from the show ends and yawns spread across the group. Hongjoong’s eyes are on you, you notice, quietly studying you, and trading a small smile when you catch him looking. It’s clear that what he’s watching isn’t you, but San and the way his hand never quite strays from your skin. But you’re not uncomfortable, and that must be clear because you watch his eyes flick back down to his computer screen.

The rocking of the bus, and the heat coming from the lower vents combined with the warm chamomile tea starts to sink in, and it becomes harder and harder to keep your eyes open or to keep up with anyone’s conversations around you. Leaning heavily on the heel of your hand, you start to feel yourself drift.

“y/n,” Wooyoung whispers next to you, “y/n…”

“Hmm?” your head snaps up to catch his eye, “Oh- sorry,”

“Don’t be sorry,” Wooyoung shakes his head, “but you look tired,”

“I am,” you admit, “today was a lot,”

San squeezes your shoulder gently, “Let me show you your bunk for tonight,” he stands, offering a hand to help you up off the cushion on the floor and takes the cup from your fingers so he can pass it back to Seonghwa at the table.

“Goodnight, everyone,” you give a small bow and wave, a chorus of goodnights coming back to you from the rest of the group.

Turning to follow San, he takes you back to the farthest bunk on the right whose curtain is already half open, pillows and blankets tossed to the side as if the occupant got up in a hurry. “You can stay in my bunk tonight,”

“Thank you so much,” you murmur, “but I don’t want to put you out of a place to sleep, you have a show tomorrow and I’m sure you need to get good sleep,”

San waves you off, “I’ll stay with Wooyoung,” he gestures to the bunk above yours, “it’s no problem at all.”

“If you’re sure,”

“Of course,” he reaches past you into the bunk and hastily fluffs the pillows, pulls the blanket out to cover each corner of the bunk and grabs a discarded sweatshirt that was rolled up at the edge of the bed, “I didn’t expect company,” he laughs.

He folds back the top of the blanket and pats the edge of the bed for you to get in and you follow his lead, slipping under the covers and leaning back against the back wall of the bunk. “Thank you for everything,” you say, “I’m honestly not sure how I would have gotten home if you hadn’t come outside and seen me there.”

With warmth in his eyes, San sits down on the edge of the bunk, hitching one knee up and angles towards you. The proximity is dizzying and doubles when he reaches out a hand and rests it on your knee. “It was a little bit of fate I think,” he says.

There’s a lengthy pause, and you can feel his body heat in the tight space, hear his breath. A loud outbreak of laughter from the front of the bus breaks the moment, San leans back slightly then and clears his throat, “I should leave you to get some rest,” he murmurs.

“Okay,”

He still doesn’t leave, seeming to be caught in some thought. But the moment passes, and he squeezes your knee before hopping up, “You should come to practice tomorrow and sound check,”

“I wouldn’t be in the way?”

He shakes his head emphatically, “It would be nice to have a friendly face there, and you clearly have a good ear for music,”

Your stomach flips. “I wouldn’t miss it,”

“Good,” he starts to pull the curtain closed for you, before pausing and rethinking something, “take this if you get cold,” passing you the hoodie he and cleared off the bed only a moment ago. “I’ll tell the boys to quiet down,” he murmurs before pulling the curtain closed and leaving you alone.

You listen as he heads back to the front of the bus, before slipping his hoodie over your head and cozying into its large, oversized sleeves. It only takes a few minutes for the feeling of the bus and the warm rich smell of San’s cologne lingering on his clothes to lull you right into sleep.

In the morning you find that you’re still driving, warm rays of sunlight passing through the partially open blinds of your bunk. Checking your phone, you see that only four hours have passed since you first fell asleep, so you guess that you have another two hours left of driving until you reach the next venue. You spend some time checking your socials and easing yourself awake. The bus is quiet around you so you’re fairly sure even without opening the curtain to check that everyone is still asleep, and you certainly don’t want to wake them when they have a day full for the last day of their tour.

Time passes slowly, and you open the blinds a little more to watch the road passing by. You can’t stop thinking about the moment you shared with San before falling asleep, the way he kept finding small ways to touch your skin or be close to you. It felt intimate, and personal, and you know that you are close in age, but it seems impossible that he would be interested in anything more than flirting.

Above you, you can hear someone shifting in their covers, reminding you again just how close they are even now. The bus stays quiet for some time longer, and in an effort to preserve your phone’s battery life you decide to shut the curtains more tightly and get another hour or so of sleep. As you drift again, face pressed into the pillow and with the hood of San’s sweatshirt pulled up shielding any additional daylight, you listen to the sounds of the road.

You wake this time to voices and of the boys walking between the bunks, the bathroom door opening, closing, and opening again. Checking your phone, it seems you were able to squeeze almost two more hours of sleep in, and when you check out the window you can see now that the sun is higher and you’ve made it into the city. The bus hasn’t stopped yet, but you’re sure the venue must be close by.

You stretch, shaking the sleep out of your limbs and start to pick up pieces of conversation. Mostly they are talking about the order of operations to prep for the concert, any changes to the setlist or choreography, and any notes their management have passed down about this stage in particular. You freeze though when you hear someone say your name.

“I invited her to practice and sound check,” San says, his mouth clearly half full of breakfast.

“Good,” Hongjoong replies, “she can’t sit in the bus all day,”

Your stomach twists for a moment, hoping you’re not causing too much trouble by being underfoot, but then you hear Wooyoung, “Did you hear her music last night?”

“Mm,” someone says.

“It was good,” Yeosang’s voice surprises you.

“I was surprised,” someone else offers.

“I already asked Eden,” Hongjoong cuts in, “But we should hear some more of her stuff today, maybe between practice and lunch,”

There are some sounds of agreement, and you can barely breathe, what could Hongjoong have to say about you to Eden?

There’s a beat and then you hear San say, “I like her,”

“You like everyone!” Yunho says.

“No, I’m serious,” San says cutting through the laughs, “I like her, I think she’s a good fit.”

There are a few murmurs around but then Hongjoong says, “I thought the same.”

“Let’s see what happens today,” Yunho offers, “but it looks like we’re almost there so we should get our shit together.”

The conversations break off there, and more people come back towards the bunks to start gathering anything they need to take into the venue. You’ve hardly moved since you first heard your name drop from their mouths, and you can’t imagine what to make of their words. When someone gently knocks on the wall next to your bunk you gasp, quickly settling back into your cushions to seem a little sleepier than you are so they don’t know you overheard.

Your curtain slides open slowly, and you open your eyes feigning like you just woke up. Jongho appears, checking to see if you’re up and smiling, “Good morning y/n,”

“Oh, hi Jongho,” you start to sit up, running your hands through your hair.

“Coffee,” he pushes a Starbucks cup in your hand, “We just guessed what you might like,” he admits.

You nod in thanks and take a sip, grateful for the warmth and the caffeine. “I didn’t even know we stopped,”

Jongho nods, “We’re almost there, so it’s time to get up. Lots to do today,” he says.

You take another sip of coffee and smile back, kicking the covers off your legs and following him out into the space between the bunks. It’s bustling, everyone is stuffing bags full of items, trading off in the bathroom, tossing things across the cabin, and rushing around you.

“Morning!” Hongjoong waves to you, “We’ll be arriving in ten minutes, and then we have to warm up, but you can come with,”

You agree happily and start to reach for the bag that has your clothes from the concert last night. You figure that the outfit on a whole doesn’t really make sense for the full day, but you can probably wear the pants, boots, and keep San’s tour t-shirt on. Your coat is a fluffy black puffer coat and should keep you warm regardless of the layers underneath.

Seonghwa bangs on the bathroom door to your right, “Hey Wooyoung! Hurry up and let our Atiny get ready, ok?”

You hear Wooyoung’s groan of irritation and when he throws open the door you can see he’s still mid change. With an eyeroll he finishes pulling the top over his head, and throws up his hands “OK, OK,” he rushes past, giving the tip of your nose a playful flick with his finger, “Good morning!” he sing-songs.

Before you can take a step forward towards the bathroom, San appears in front of you and you’re stunned for a moment, your mouth suddenly dry. He gives you a wide, kind smile, and tugs on one of the drawstrings of his hoodie that you are still wearing, “Cute,” he comments before reaching past you into the bunk by your head and fishing out various articles of clothing.

“Morning,” you manage, acutely feeling how close he comes when he leans in to reach around you.

“When you’re ready we’ll head out,” he says, “did you sleep well?”

You nod, “Yes, surprisingly well.”

“Good,” he steps away, but before he heads back to the kitchenette he plucks the coffee out of your hands, “I’ll keep this safe for you.”

You nod and head into the bathroom, your mind ringing with the words you overheard earlier – “I like her, she’s a good fit,” For what you’re not sure, but it stays with you all day.

When you emerge from the bathroom, you catch San’s appreciative glance as he registers that you’re still wearing his shirt, just now tucked into the high waisted pants and styled to look like an intentionally oversized fit. Thankfully your hair didn’t rebel against you too badly, so with a little fluffing and the combination of dry shampoo, concealer, brown eyeliner, mascara, and lip tint, you always carry in your bag, you manage to patch yourself back into something more put together. The bus has stopped, and some of the group have already gotten off at the venue, but San has clearly hung back just to wait for you. Yunho and Yeosang are on their way off too, discussing something amongst themselves.

“Ready,” you say, making your way up to where he stands, leaning against the kitchenette table.

He hands your coffee back and looks you over, a half-smile on his lips. “Cute,” he says again before turning and walking down the steps of the bus. You follow him, everything dizzy and unreal, but you’re here and you’re about to walk with San to Ateez dance practice. Taking another sip of coffee to wake you up you exhale and get ready to face the day and whatever they have in store for you.

During dance practice you try to make yourself useful, balancing between staying out of the way and trying not to be a distraction and doing little things like fetching water bottles and tossing them towels between routines. It’s exactly like the choreography videos you’ve seen online, and in person the dancing is even more impressive. They are sharp, calculated, committed, and kept motivated by Hongjoong’s consistent leadership and Yunho’s attention to detail. The friendship is clearly there too, the intimacy of the group is palpable, and it feels so lucky that you’ve gotten to be here even if only for one day.

After what feels like hours of practice, the boys collapse for a break. You are on your feet fast, passing out fresh bottles of water and checking in to see who needs what. As you pass Hongjoong and Yunho who are sitting up against the far wall, they gesture for you to come over.

“The song you played for us last night,” Hongjoong starts, “Can you play it again? Over the speaker?”

“Oh,” you dig into your pocket to find your phone, “Yeah I could do that,”

He nods back enthusiastically, “Let’s hear it!”

As you head back over to the speaker and unplug Seonghwa’s phone you hear Yunho call, “Do you have any other tracks?”

“Um yeah I should,” you are focused on locating the first song, shifting through the audio files on your phone, “I have some more like this-“ the music starts playing through the speakers and you watch as half the boys start nodding their heads in time with the bass, “and I have some other tracks and vocal mixes somewhere.” You’re talking confidently for the first time since you’ve gotten in front of the group, and while you don’t realize it at first, every time you talk about your music, getting confident and animated, the boys take notice. It’s a shared love, a shared passion.

“Oooh,” Mingi is jamming, up and starting to freestyle to the music, Wooyoung not far behind. Everyone is hyping them up and hyping up your music.

As the song closes, you queue another, “I have this one too, bringing in some 90s R&B samples,”

Hongjoong is smiling broadly, bopping to the music, “You made this?”

“Yeah, I’ve been working on it for a while,”

Yunho makes his way over to you and leans against the wall you’re resting against, standing close to your left side. It’s apparent just how tall he is when you’re this close to him, especially to someone as small as you at 5’4”. He’s an oddly quiet presence with you despite being a bit of a joker and high energy with the rest of the guys but being comfortable with your friends and being comfortable with strangers are two different things. His arms cross, and he runs the back of his knuckles against your upper arm, “I’m glad we found you last night,”

“Oh?” you ask, feeling more confident now that you know they like the music you’ve played for them.

“It’s funny, I don’t think we knew what to expect having you tag along,” he admits, “but you fit in with us well,”

There was that phrase again.

“You’ve all been so kind to me,” you say, “I don’t know what I expected but it wasn’t this.”

Angling towards you again, Yunho’s eyes widen, “Did you think we might be pretentious idols?”

You gasp, “No!” you shake your head, “you’ve all just been so generous!”

“y/n, I’m kidding,” his smile is instantly flirtatious, “and it might be strange to say this, but I’m glad you got stuck last night. I’ve liked having you around.”

You can feel your cheeks heating, and the music shifts to something less bass heavy and softer. Your stomach clenches because you know your vocals feature in this track, but you try to ignore it and stay focused on Yunho. “I’ve loved being here,” you admit.

“Wait until you are up front for sound check,” he laughs.

“I can’t wait,” you say, “I don’t want the day to end,”

“It doesn’t have to.”

“Yunho!” Hongjoong calls, pulling his attention away. You look up and see Hongjoong shaking his head slightly, “Not now,”

“Ah I thought we had decided,” he holds up his hands in mock innocence.

“Decided what?” You ask.

The room is quiet for a moment with the exception of the music, and before Hongjoong can answer, your eyes meet San’s. He is watching you and Yunho, but he’s registering the music and the sound of the vocals, and his eyes hold on yours. “This is you,” he states, no question.

“Uh yeah, yes,” you nod, his expression rooting you to the spot, “it is,”

“It is?” Yunho asks next to you, but your eyes don’t leave San.

“Yes,”

San laughs, “I’ve decided,” he shakes his head, “your voice is beautiful,”

You hear Hongjoong exhale a deep sigh and your eyes finally break away, “Decided what?” you ask again.

Hongjoong shakes his head, “We’ll talk after the show y/n, if you can come backstage after the meet and greet, we’ll talk,”

“I’m confused,” you admit.

“I know,” Hongjoong says, “we have an idea for you, about your music, but I need to talk to Eden first. We’re not really able to decide anything just because we want to,”

“My music…” you say, trying to work out exactly what he’s saying.

“Trust us,” Hongjoong steps forward, taking your hands in his, “we’re very happy San brought you back. I thought at first you were a fan that we could help, but you’re talented and we like you very much,”

“Oh,” you murmur

“You said you just finished school, and you’re not working in the industry yet,” he continues, “and we might have an opportunity at KQ,”

“Oh,” it all makes sense now, “Really?”

“Yes,” he squeezes your fingers, “but there are some details to figure out,”

“Of course, I never,” you stumble over your words, “I never expected for this to be anything more than help getting me home, I hope you don’t think that I talked about my music just to-“

There’s a chorus of “nos” from the surrounding boys but Hongjoong shakes his head definitively and reaches up to gently cup your face, “No, but I wanted to wait until after the show to talk to you, until I knew more.”

“I’m sorry,” you say, “I didn’t mean to press,”

“Ah no,” he says, “but for now, we have to get ready for tonight and sound check. After the show you’ll be able to come to the back of the stage, we’ll make sure they let you through. Once we’re done meeting the other Atinys we can talk,”

“Okay,”

“Okay.” Hongjoong pulls you in for a hug, pressing a quick kiss to the top of your head, “Don’t worry,”

As the gang breaks back up, one of their management team popping in the room to announce it’s time for hair and makeup, the energy shifts and the boys are back in work mode, prepping for their last performance of the tour. Hongjoong gives your hand one last squeeze before coming back to being captain, chastising Yunho as he walks by for spilling the beans about the potential job for you.

When you look up while taking your phone off the AUX and looking to see what’s next, you see San still standing where he was before, eyes on you. Feeling emboldened, you walk towards him. The room has all but cleared out, only Mingi and Wooyoung finishing packing their bags before they leave the practice room.

“You’ve decided?” You ask.

He smiles down at you, “I want you,” he says simply, “at KQ.”

“Ahh,” you narrow your eyes, “at KQ?”

“Of course,”

The room is empty now, and you think of every moment the night before San found little ways to touch you, smile at you, be in your space. The way he looked at you at the back of the venue, cigarette between his teeth. Confidence bubbling up, you playfully smirk and say, “Are you sure you don’t just like me?”

San hums pleasantly, “I said I do,”

He shifts forward and now he stands almost fully against you. At this angle he dwarfs you, and he reaches out, catching your chin between his thumb and forefinger gently. “I like you,” you murmur.

His thumb catches on your bottom lip softly, “We all like you, y/n,” he leans in to your ear.

Your brain can barely catch up, his breath warm against your cheek, his hand smoothing against the side of your face to cup the back of your neck, thumb still resting on your jaw. His other hand comes to your side, resting at your waist softly but with firm pressure and your breath catches. “Can we keep you?” he whispers.

“San,” his name slips out, and before you can answer his question let alone process it, his lips are against yours. It’s soft at first, but as you respond his fingers tighten on you, lips pressing more firmly, his tongue softly catching against yours. The gentle brush of his thumb against the side of your breast causes a gasp, breaking your lips apart. His forehead presses against yours.

“I’m sorry,” he loosens his grip, bringing his hands to cup your face as he leans away, “I didn’t mean to push you,”

Feeling breathless you shake your head, “it’s not that,”

“Then I’m not sorry,” he grins.

From outside the room, he hears Seonghwa calling, and he drops his hands, taking a step back. “We should get going,”

“Yeah,” you agree, “I don’t know what we’re doing,” you gesture at the space between you both and continue, “but I’m not sorry either,”

“I have to prepare for the show,” he says, “but we should talk tonight, I have- we have something we want to ask you.”

“Okay,” you smile.

He’s grinning, grabbing his stuff from the training room floor, and bouncing on his feet, “Come on,” he says with a jerk of his head, “let’s go get pretty.”

He turns and presses another fast kiss to your lips before grabbing your hand and pulling you through the door to join the others. In the span of 24 hours everything about your life feels upside down, and despite the head rush that being so impulsive gives you, you’re pretty sure you’re not stopping now.

tag list: @butterfliesinthenightsky

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♡

into the aurora -- chapter three (ot8)

chapter three: the beginning of the end

summary: you didn't expect to run into choi san outside of the venue, especially when your phone was dead and you were stranded in a random city. a kind offer for a phone charger turns into so much more, and you end up falling into a relationship with all eight members of ateez.

warnings: pushy guy / unwanted advances, protective!yunho, protective!mingi, protective!ot8 let's be honest, suggestive content, light violence. please let me know if I missed any.

pairings: ot8 x reader

genre: fluff, angst, romance, ateez ensemble x reader, polyamory, non-idol!reader, fem!reader, eventual smut

word count: 3.8K

(previous chapter) (next chapter) | AO3 | Wattpad

You’re one of the last people to leave the floor of the venue. You were front row like always, but it felt different now that the boys you were staring up at were people you actually knew. You sang just as hard, danced along, and fan chanted just like you always do, but this time it was even more surreal. Your body is vibrating with the music and the left over feeling of the bass, and being this close to the stage so many nights in a row has your head ringing.

You stay seated for a while after the show ends, watching the looping videos that they have running to play out the fans. You’ll have to wait at least an hour and a half post show before you can head back to the green room post VIP signing to see them, so for now, you wait. Your mind can’t stop running over the day. The dance practice, the music, the kiss. And after, the way that you stayed lingering around San, his fingertips consistently finding you. You were able to spend time with everyone during hair and makeup since they were stuck in their chairs for so long. The crew taking care of makeup were so kind and even gave you a little extra glitter on your lids and cheeks to add a little extra sparkle. Soundcheck passed in a blur, the group consistently smiling to you as you waited in the wings.

During the show it was even more intense. Of course, they were performing as they always do, connecting with as many fans as possible, but during Déjà Vu when San looked directly at you while singing his verse, you were sure your soul left your body.

Eventually the venue is almost empty, so you hop up and head out of the side door. Security had told you earlier in the night which entrance to go through to get to the green room, you just had to provide your name and you would be on the list just like one of the managers or tour crew. In the large hallways of the venue food and drink stands were still operating, though it appeared the staff were starting to wrap up. Checking your watch, it looked like you maybe had another 15 to 30 minutes before you would see the guys again, so you decide to grab a quick drink. You’ve had one already tonight, but you’re generally trying to keep it in check since San and Hongjoong both said they wanted to talk to you after the show, especially if it was about the potential job opportunity. But since the nerves were getting to you again, you head up to the bar and grab a beer.

The bartender pours you a tall one and waves you off when you try to pass him cash. “We’re closed anyways,” he says, and you thank him before starting back towards the other end of the venue where the entrance to backstage is.

When you make it that far, you’ve had about half the beer on the walk. You spot an unfamiliar security guard, but you this is the entrance you were told to use so you continue forwards.

“Excuse me,” you say, getting the large man’s attention. He’s tall and broad, wearing a black t-shirt with “Security” written across the front and back.

“Can I help you?” he asks, and you catch him glance you over.

“My name is y/n,” you say, trying to be friendly, “I was told earlier that I should come back to this entrance and give my name so I can get back to the green room. The band is expecting me,”

“y/n?” He says, not moving.

“Um… yes,” you nod, “they told me earlier that my name would be on a list?”

“You’re not on my list,” he states, and your heart drops. You haven’t exchanged any phone numbers with any of the boys so if you’re not able to make it backstage you worry that your chance to speak with them again will disappear.

“Can you check please?” He didn’t even so much as glance at his clipboard when you first approached.

He glances down at the checklist quickly, scanning the names before shaking his head, “I don’t see you here,”

“There must be some kind of mistake,” you say, “I spoke with a woman from security earlier. She was tall and had short blonde hair, she was here around 3 o’clock?”

“Well, I don’t have you on my list,” he says, taking a step towards you, “so you’ll have to leave.”

“I’m sorry… I just…. I don’t,” you’re not sure what to do, and the security guard steps closer.

“I might be able to help you,” he says finally, taking one more step closer to you.

“How?” you ask immediately, trying to crane your neck to see over the edge of his clipboard to spot your name on the list that you’re sure the security guard from earlier had taken down.

“Well,” he says, a smirk crossing his face, “I think if you can do me a favor, I might be able to do you a favor.”

Your stomach drops.

“So,” he says, stepping closer to you, crowding you against the wall, “How badly do you want to get backstage?”

Words don’t come, the firm dark wall behind you connects sharply with your back and your fingers grip the sound proofing material. Your breath is sharp, and he pushes in against you with an arm on either side of your body, his hands planted on the wall to either side of your head.

“Not sure?” he says, angling closer.

“Please let me go,” you manage.

“Hmmmm,” he shakes his head, “I don’t think I can, you look like a security threat to me.”

Your stomach rolls as he leans closer, his knee slotting in between the space between your thighs and pressing you further into the wall. The beer you were holding slips from your fingers, splashing across the floor and against your legs. “Please stop.” You try once more, and then more firmly, “Stop!”

“I think a pretty thing like you shouldn’t be wandering around alone,” he shrugs, “so how about that favor?”

Before you can take another breath, you hear a shout from behind the security guard. You can’t quite tell who yet with this man crowding you and your vision, but the sound of a man’s shout and their rushed running forwards brings tears welling up in your eyes. Your hands are shaking, but the man against you sighs in frustration before pushing back away from you and the wall in one fluid motion.

“Get away from her!” As the man backs away, you see Yunho and Mingi rushing towards you, a couple of their tour crew hot on their heels.

“We were just having a little conversation,” he shrugs, “but we’re done now.”

“y/n!” Yunho calls, “Are you okay?”

Your voice is stuck for a minute before you nod, “Yeah, yes, I’m okay,”

Yunho and Mingi put themselves between you and the security guard, Yunho’s hand reaching back slightly to you but keeping their eyes fixed on him.

It’s Mingi that surprises you though, he’s furious. “You like to scare women, huh? Huh?”

“Look man,” the security guard starts, “she and I were just talking,”

It happens in a flash, Mingi strikes, and the man is laid out flat on the ground clutching his nose. Yunho takes two steps back towards you without turning, his hand connecting with your arm and fingers curling around your bicep. “Just talking,” Mingi spits under his breath.

Yunho turns his head to the side, glancing back at you, “Are you all right?”

Your eyes are still filled with tears, and you know your hands are still shaking, but you nod, “I’m fine, I’m okay,”

“Let’s go,” he says simply, turning now to face you, gently pulling you away from your prone position on the wall to follow him backstage. Mingi stays close, but you can feel that he’s still surveying the guard on the floor. After you make it into the hallways of backstage, Yunho smooths his hand across your shoulders, “He didn’t hurt you?” he questions.

“No,” you say, “he was just pushy,”

He nods once.

The greenroom door is just ahead, and Mingi pushes ahead of you to open it. On the other side you see the rest of the boys, a similar post show experience to the night before.

“Ah Atiny!” Wooyoung calls affectionately, seeing the group entering.

You felt like during the walk you had gotten it together a bit, but suddenly standing in the center of the room with eight pairs of eyes on you, tears well up again.

“y/n?” Seonghwa catches it first, “What is it?”

“It’s nothing,” you wave him away, shooting a glance to Mingi and Yunho, hoping they understand you’d rather not talk about it. “It’s just the last night of tour, the last show!” you say, attempting to brush off the feeling and turn it into something positive.

You feel like for a moment you might have gotten away with it, but Mingi huffs and says, “The security guard was bothering her, what a piece of-“

“What?” San cuts through, crossing the room for you, “What do you mean?”

“He had her in a corner.” Mingi says simply, and Yunho smacks his arm, gesturing towards you trying to get you to shut up, “Oh… uh… I’m sorry y/n. But I did hit him.”

San’s gaze snaps from Mingi back to you, and you hear Hongjoong shout, “Mingi!”

“I wasn’t going to let it go,” Mingi shrugs, “she was scared.”

“I’m fine,” you protest, “it’s fine,” you turn towards Yunho and Mingi, but San reaches out and holds your arms gently in his hands, “Thank you for helping though, he didn’t know how to take no for an answer.”

San’s hands slide up and down your arms in a gesture of comfort, “I’m sorry,” he says but for what you have no idea.

“I was more worried he wasn’t going to let me backstage,” you admit, “I thought I wouldn’t be able to get back in touch with you,”

San’s eyes widen, and he pulls you in close to wrap you in a hug.

“We would have come looking,” Yeosang offers from his place on the couch, “but I’m glad you’re okay.”

They all echo the sentiment, and as San holds you tightly Wooyoung comes to make the hug a group hug from behind you. You can’t help but laugh into San’s shoulder, the tears starting to dissipate.

“Let’s get you some food,” Jongho says, and you hear Seonghwa jump up and assist. They are piling a paper plate full of light snacks from the green room, and they pull a water bottle out of a nearby cooler. As Wooyoung and San break away, Jongho pushes the food into your hands and opens the water bottle for you before offering it over too.

“I,” you start to say but you shake your head, “thank you,”

This time, now that you’re more comfortable, you cross the room and take a seat on the couch next to Yeosang without needing to be asked. You start by taking a few long sips of water, the cold helping calm you immensely. The room is quiet for a few moments as you drink and start to pick at the food on your plate. Yunho crosses the room to sit on the arm of the couch, his hand reaching and resting on the back of your neck where he gently kneads his thumb against the knot of stress sitting between your shoulders.

You glance up at San, expecting to see flash of jealousy, but he smiles warmly and with comfort. Yunho’s hand is calming, and the presence of all these men brings your adrenaline down so you can breathe a little easier.

After a moment you say, “the show was amazing,”

“Yeah?” Jongho says.

“It gets better every time to be honest, and I can’t believe you did ‘Pick it Up’ during the encore, it was amazing to see live.”

There’s a chorus of thank yous, and you finish a few more bites of food before letting the plate rest on your knees. You don’t have much of an appetite, but you’re sure that this helped. San steps in, asking if you’re done and taking the plate away so you can relax.

“y/n,” Hongjoong pulls up a chair closer to your side of the room, “are you feeling better?”

You nod, “Much, thank you,”

He sighs, seeming grateful, and takes a breath before saying “I’ve spoken to Eden and some managers at KQ. There’s a place for you if you want it,”

“There is?” Your hands drop to your lap, and you’re sure your mouth has fallen open embarrassingly.

He laughs and gives you a grin, “It’s a junior position, a junior sound designer and audio editor, but you’d work with us and Eden and definitely get some experience like you wanted.”

“You’re serious?”

Yeosang laughs next to you, “We wouldn’t play a joke like that on you,”

“A place for me,” you repeat, mostly to yourself. It’s been a long time since you felt like you had one, and falling into it with Ateez feels right, feels sure.

“Mm,” Hongjoong nods again, “You don’t have to decide,” he starts to say but you cut him off, “Of course I’ll take the job.”

There’s cheers and congratulations, before you know it, you’re up on your feet and being embraced by everyone.

“Well, that’s it then,” Mingi announces, “our Atiny is joining the team! Let’s celebrate!”

Yunho and Seonghwa start passing out beers and soju, and you accept yours gratefully. “And you just finished your tour to entirely sold-out shows,” you remind them, “let’s drink to that too!”

San and Wooyoung are clapping and raising their glasses.

“Geonbae!” Mingi calls, and everyone calls the toast back, taking a cheerful swig of beer.

“What happens now?” You ask.

Hongjoong clears his throat, “Well, we talked about it this morning.”

It must have been part of the conversation you caught on the tour bus, completely forgotten after such a long day.

“We want you to stay,” San says, taking a step closer to you and clinking his glass to yours softly.

“To stay?”

Hongjoong crosses the room and waves San away with the back of his hand, “We talked about this,”

San is pouting, and you can’t help but giggle at the sight.

“You said yesterday that you had a flight in the morning back home,” You nod at Hongjoong’s question, and he continues, “We can drop you at the airport tomorrow and next week we can pick you back up after you’ve gotten your things together to start working at KQ.”

“Okay,” you start to say

“There’s something else,” Hongjoong starts, and your eyes flick to San’s, remembering what he said after you kissed earlier that afternoon.

“Anything,”

You hear a small laugh behind you and Hongjoong shakes his head, “Don’t promise just yet.”

“I really don’t understand,” you admit.

“It’s a hard question for me to ask,” Hongjoong admits, “not knowing what your answer will be.”

He takes a few steps away from you, and you shift, glancing at the rest of the boys who have seemed to sober considerably, trading glances at you and each other in equal measure. They’re nervous, you realize. What about you makes them nervous you can’t imagine, but Seonghwa moves forward into your space tightly and the penny starts to drop.

“We want to ask you,” he says, dipping his head low, “to stay with us all, to be with us,” his lips connect with yours and for a moment your mind shorts. You push him back softly with your hands against his shoulders, taking a few quick steps backwards.

“But I,” your head swivels to look at San, “I don’t know what’s happening,”

San is still giving you a warm smile, and it does nothing but further confuse you. Putting your beer down on a nearby side table, you rub your temples, “I don’t understand,”

Hongjoong’s voice cuts through, “Everybody out.”

“Ah hyung!”

“Hongjoong!”

“Why?”

“I said we couldn’t pressure her.” He’s firm, opening the door to the green room, “I want to speak with her alone, and without you all breathing down her neck.”

When the room clears, you’re alone with Hongjoong.

“Come and sit down,” he crosses to the couch and takes a seat at the far end, gesturing for you to take a seat.

You sit, but a little stiffly on the edge of the cushion, angling towards Hongjoong you say, “Please tell me what he means, that you want me to stay with you.”

He exhales low and reaches to gently take your hand. “We like you,” he starts, “It’s been a long time since all of us have felt this way about an outsider- not one of us and not one of our immediate crew. What we do can be isolating, and with the way our lives are examined we don’t often get to have normal experiences.”

“Oh,”

“We love what we do, and we love our Atinys,” he swallows, “but it can be lonely.”

“I’m sorry,” you manage.

He shakes his head, “When I say we all like you, I mean it. Hearing your music, spending time with you, the way you participated at practice…. It is rare that we all connect equally with someone.”

Warmth blooms in your chest, “I feel the same, that I’ve connected with all of you,”

“We wanted to put you up for the job at KQ because we were genuinely surprised by your music, so please understand that this offer is genuine.” You wait for him to continue. “What we also were hoping for, was that you would come to stay with us full time.”

Your eyes widen.

Hongjoong squeezes your fingers, “I know San has already expressed his interest, his feelings. I’m sure you’ve noticed the way Yunho has been with you, Mingi too. Seonghwa’s attentions just now should be clear enough.”

“Clear?” It slips out before you can stop yourself

“Mm,” he nods, “We all feel the same.”

It dawns then – “When you say stay with you….?”

“At our dorms, our home.”

“And Seonghwa said,”

“Be with us.” He confirms.

“You mean that literally,” you ask, already knowing the answer from the expression on his face.

“Our life can be lonely, and finding someone like you that we all truly like and appreciate? We agreed, we want you to come home with us. We can keep each other company, but it’s not the same as finding that someone.”

“You all….talked about it and you want me to what? Live with you so you can…. share me?”

Hongjoong’s mouth drops, “Well,”

You pull your hand back a moment, “I see why you’d be worried that I’d think the job offer was fake.”

“y/n,” Hongjoong reaches back out to you, gently pleading, “not at all. You can take the job and reject this offer and we’ll never discuss it again.”

A few beats pass. “You’ve done this before,” you realize.

Your eyes meet, and he doesn’t deceive you. “Yes,” he says, “once before.”

“So, a woman lived with you, had…. she had sex with all of you?”

He cringes momentarily, “Yes, for a very brief period. It was more like some of us dated her, with others she was more like a roommate. She accompanied us on an American tour, but when we got back to Seoul she wanted to go back to her real life.”

“And you were what? Looking to find the right fan?”

He’s appalled, and by his expression you know you’ve said something horrible. He releases you, “I can see why you would think this way, but it was never really an option we considered again until meeting you yesterday. And if you’re uncomfortable, we’ll let it go.”

“I’m…” you almost answer, but in truth you really don’t know. The emotions from being with San this morning, to kissed by Seonghwa, to being asked for something like this? It’s next to impossible and logic isn’t responding.

“If you want time,”

You nod. You’re staring at your folded hands, and after what feels like ages, you nod again, “I need to think. Being here has been incredible, and I want the job… but what you’re asking is… I can’t just decide something like that in a minute.”

He squeezes your hand, “Okay,”

“Okay.”

“Do you want to see the rest of the members, or would you prefer I have a car take you to your hotel?” he asks.

“Hotel, please,” you sigh, rubbing your hands across your tired eyes, “I think I need to go home first.”

“Ah,” Hongjoong bites his lip before saying, “Take your flight home, and in a week, I’ll have a car service pick you up. Just give the driver tonight your address and he’ll organize things.” He pulls out his phone, “Give me your number too, so we have a way of communicating.”

You plug your number in, and Hongjoon presses the call button. Your phone vibrates in your pocket, and he nods, “when you come back for the job, give us your answer.”

“And if I say no that will be that?” you ask, “I can still work at KQ and with you with no issues?”

“You have my word,” he says, “It’s completely up to you. You can take all of it, none of it, or some of it.”

“Okay,” you stand, and he follows suit, “then in a week I’ll give you my answer.”

Hongjoong pulls you into a soft hug, “Travel safe,”

“You too,”

He smooths his hands down your arms once, drops your hands, and opens the side door that leads outside. Within a few minutes you’re in a car heading to your originally booked hotel, and you can’t help but wonder if that was the last moment you’ll ever spend with them.

As you drive, check into the hotel, and collapse into the waiting sheets, you pour over the last two days events. Worrying your lip with your teeth, you think of every passing comment or brush of a hand against yours. It’s clear now that they were flirting, but you just thought they were flirtatious by nature, especially to a fan. You slip into sleep, San’s kiss playing over and over in your head.

Can we keep you? He had whispered in your ear. Even then he was telling you.

In the morning, you follow the plan. You get on your flight and go home. You look around your tiny apartment, at your tiny quiet life, and you make a choice.

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B*tches and Bunnies

Pairing: ace! dog hybrid! alpha! reader x ace! bunny hybrid! omega! jungkook Details: college au, best friends taehyung and jimin Summary: There are certain stereotypes about dogs and rabbits which neither you nor Jungkook appreciate.

Warnings: The recognizable names and personalities do not reflect their real life counterparts. (oversexualization, discrimination, harassment, power dynamics alcohol/drunkenness)

You walked into your apartment, tossing your backpack off to the side and letting out a small growl.

“Oh, honey, what’s wrong?” Jimin said from the couch. He grabbed the remote, muting the TV. Taehyung blinked blearily up at you from Jimin’s lap. You shrugged, glancing at the screen.

“Are you guys really rewatching One Piece again?”

Jimin removed his hand from Taehyung’s hair, clicking his tongue. Taehyung whined slightly.

“Don’t rag on our favorite show just cause you’re in a bad mood,” Jimin said sternly.

“I’m sorry.” Your shoulders slumped.

“Come here.” Jimin motioned at you. You sighed and walked over, perching on the armrest. Jimin pulled you into his arms, tickling you until you laughed.

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