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biaswreckme · 8 hours

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until the break of dawn | jongsan

San's touches to Jongho's shoulder in Wonderland (Symphony No.9 "From The Wonderland") into something more after Coachella.

Fandom: Ateez

Pairing: Jongho/San

Member: Jongho, San, mentions of the other members and relationships

Word count: 1500 words

Genre/Tropes: Canon compliant, Romance, Fluff, Smut

Rating: mature, 18+

Triggers/Warnings: smut, crying, mutual masturbation, no dialogue, implied polyamorous ateez, a little bit of hurt/comfort

You can read it on: AO3

Skinship was not something Jongho was ever incredibly fond of, but over the years living and working in close quarters with the other seven members made him aware of his limits and needs. He would frequently run or push the other boys away, but sometimes he craved and even initiated physical contact.

When they first presented the new version of Wonderland, he was up on another level of the stage by himself, none of the others with him in the most nerve wracking moment of the song for him. As they continued to perform the Symphony 9 version on stages, they changed their positioning so he would walk out in front of the members to hit his high notes. It was subtle and he was confused the first time, but there was a comfort to the hand San pressed to his shoulder, almost a motivation for him to continue - it was an extra burst of strength and a signal that he was there for Jongjo.

So he started to yearn for this moment whenever the song was on their setlist, and they never talked about it, but it was a given that San would give him this encouragement. When they decided to include the song as the ending for their stage at Coachella, he knew he would be nervous, but he did not truly know the magnitude or the pressure he would feel when the moment arrived. They were all on the edge of their seats, knowing how much their performance would mean and how heavy their shoulders were.

When the time came that first weekend, he paused and took a deep breath, closing his eyes momentarily so he could gather the most of his energy and calmness to avoid making any mistakes. He felt San’s hand pressing down on his shoulder, a little bit stronger than usual, but they were all slightly more intense with the performance, feeling like they had to prove themselves to the world. But it worked; the stronger pressure ground him enough for him to confidently sing his part.

So in his week off he went back to Los Angeles while some of the members stayed to enjoy the festival and other activities. He knew his members worried about him using his time to have singing lessons, to try and better himself, so they reassured him, even sending videos and articles of people who didn’t know them commenting on Jongho’s incredible voice. He was fine, it was just an opportunity he didn’t want to miss while in the city.

And then the second week approached, faster than he would like, but there they were again in that stage, curiously enough named after the same desert they started their career in back in the day. There was something different in the air that second night. They were having more fun, sure, but in giving all of themselves to the performance, they were also more tired. The wind was strenuous, their energies feeding off each other, internal chaos trying to get through to the end. He was sure that later at the hotel they would go off with their closest pairs to recharge, to balance their emotions, and he was - and it hurt him to admit it - not really sure who would be there for him. Hongjoong and Seonghwa, Mingi and Yunho, Wooyoung and San, and maybe Yeosang would join them, for he had seen the new developments between the two old friends.

He heard more than saw Seonghwa scream, shout out, giving himself that last burst of passion. And then it was his time, going to the front. He took his deep breath in and let it out, quickly closing and opening his eyes, bracing himself for the moment. San’s hand, San’s touch was even stronger this time around, almost searing hot through the layers he was wearing, as if he could feel the shape of the other man’s fingers. He could feel the great intensity of San’s gaze on him, indeed much stronger than the previous week. And then he did it. They all did it.

On the backstage and on the way back, as Jongho had predicted, there was tension thick enough to cut through with a knife, bodies shivering and teeth clenching with the remnants of the high emotions of that last stage. But not all of his predictions were correct. Hongjoong chose Seonghwa indeed, his touch so gentle against the older’s face, gathering his tears, pulling him towards the bedroom. Yunho, still with his fingers adorned with the silver claws, grabbed Mingi by the jacket, subtly touching the similar cross that hung heavy around the other’s neck and went to another of the bedrooms they had on the floor. Then came his surprise: Wooyoung entwined his fingers with Yeosang’s, a hypnotizing gaze on the transparency that the man was wearing, muscular chest for everyone to see, but only for him to enjoy that evening. And then there were two.

San extended his hand for him, a silent question in his face, an invitation, an open bedroom door. And Jongho took it. He knew once they crossed the threshold there would not be going back to the way things were before, but then again he was not sure he wanted everything to stay the same. He could feel his fingers were shaking - maybe his entire body was shaking - as San closed the door behind them. There was still silence. After all the emotions of the night, the loud music, the crowd, it was nice and comforting to not speak. San pulled him towards the bedroom, and once inside, started to slowly shed piece by piece of clothing; his own was easy and quick, but he took his time undressing Jongho, each item carefully folded on the fancy bathroom counter.

There was a sense of easiness in the air now for a second, yet with both bare and not having anywhere or how to hide, Jongho soon could feel his eyes watering at San’s intensity, becoming overwhelmed by the attention. Before San could ask, though, Jongho took a deep breath and hugged the older, not minding the sweat and nakedness that usually bothered him. It both comforted and opened up the waterworks, his words spilling out uncontrollably the same as his tears. As he opened up his heart, San gently led him into the shower, turning the water on to a warm temperature, starting to wash away Jongho’s worries and insecurities, and in soaping him up, tried to instill with his words all he felt for the younger, his pride, his admiration, his love. They lost time, water starting to run cold.

Tomorrow morning or afternoon they would have time to discuss exactly what everything meant, the intricacies of this newfound passion between them - and what it would mean to the others now that Jongho was a part of it, but mostly to the two members who were currently in the bedroom across from them, surely in the same state of undress. For tonight, they would focus on the moment. They finally turned off the cold water, goosebumps on their skins not only from the chill, a sliver of nervousness passing through both of them. It wasn’t like they were inexperienced, especially San in his - quite loud at times - relationship with Wooyoung, but it was always intense sharing a first with a lover, especially after such a powerful evening.

The fluffy and warm towels barely met their bodies before they were falling into bed, a messy top lip kiss before they delved into a deeper and more sensual battle, legs entangling, getting even closer to one another. On their sides looking into each other’s eyes, breaths mingling with moans and shivers as spit-covered palms glided along their erections, feeling, discovering the familiar yet foreign skin. They were used to taking showers together, changing in front of the other members out of necessity but this was different. This was nakedness with intent; touch with intent of pleasure, of giving and taking. Of taking until their breaths were hitching, eyes closing and hands grabbing at each other at the sensations overcoming their bodies, reaching their peaks together.

And now the air was light, soft giggles permeating the bedroom, trying to rile each other up to wash their hands and clean themselves again, rushing back to the bed. There was something about hotel rooms that made things easier, it was almost a limbo between the real world at home and this suspended romantic disbelief. They would rest under the soft lamps and white sheets until reality came knocking on their door. Jongho, however, no longer had any apprehension of becoming part of something bigger, of becoming more comfortable with the other’s constant touches, reaching for each other without even noticing. Even in his almost slumber, San was reaching for him, mumbling soft words that caressed his ears and his soul, and the ache so present in Jongho’s heart for so long was finally starting to be placated.

#cromer #ateez smut #ateez fluff #ateez hurt/comfort #ateez fanfic #ateez fanfiction #ateez imagine #ateez scenario #ateez scenarios #jongsan #jongho #san #choi jongho #choi san #jongsan smut #jongsan fluff #my works

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biaswreckme · 11 hours

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[240418] FOR. ATINY | To all "dear name"s in need of comfort

#ateez #san #jongho #jongsan

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biaswreckme · 14 hours

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Outro: Tear 190511

#rap line #namjoon #hoseok #yoongi #bts

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biaswreckme · 2 days

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willow | seongjoong

"Life was a willow and it bent right to your wind" or Pirate Captain Kim Hongjoong meets witch Park Seonghwa.

Fandom: Ateez

Pairing: Hongjoong/Seonghwa

Member: Hongjoong, Seonghwa

Word count: 722 words

Genre/Tropes: Alternate Universe (Fantasy), Romance, Fluff

Rating: nc-17

Triggers/Warnings: implied sexual content (very light, tagging and rating it nc-17 just to be safe), mention of people bullying Seonghwa

You can read it on: AO3

Seonghwa could still vividly remember to this day the first time that the pirate Captain had stopped by the small village. He had been in the nearby woods, gathering some herbs, when the strange ship descended from the sky and caused a ripple in the water below the decks. He had only observed from afar as a peculiar and colorful crew descended onto land, his eyes almost straining to follow who he would later learn was Captain’s confident movements. He didn’t investigate why or for how long they would be staying in the village, but he was glad that for once the attention would not be on him for a while. He could finally just be for a few days, not having to worry if that would be the day they decided to burn him at a stake.

He had certainly not been expecting a knock on his door a couple of days later, for the people usually avoided him at all costs, sometimes preferring to perish instead of seeking his aid. Seonghwa opened his front door just enough for him to see who was on the other side yet at the same time having enough leverage in case he needed to protect himself.

“So I hear you’re a witch, is that true?” the man who had knocked asked without any hesitation.

Seonghwa just blinked in response, fingers clenching on the wood, and the man smiled at him, blonde hair ruffling with the late afternoon breeze.

“Good, nice to meet you, I’m Captain Kim Hongjoong.”

It turns out that the Captain was in need of some medicinal herbs to keep on the ship for emergencies, but, to Seonghwa’s ignorance, all the other reasons he gave for the visits were made up. Hongjoong prided himself in being a good and focused leader, but there was something about this tall handsome man with dark long hair and sad eyes that almost seemed to scream loneliness that captivated his attention. And so it took no time at all until Seonhwa learned all about the crew of the Illusion, the strange ship that sailed the seas and the skies, the Captain’s presence in his home a curious constant in the week they spent on land.

Seven days and they were gone, and Seonghwa was back to being alone, heart aching so painfully at knowing company and having lost it.

Until the ship rolled in again, that is.

The Illusion never stayed long in the village, and it was always uncertain when they would dock, but Seonghwa learned to be hopeful instead of just hollow, anticipating the Captain’s companionship - and occasionally one or two of the crew who accompanied him. The crew always stayed at the small inn by the docks, and their repeated visits to the village - and their spending - had people stop bothering Seonghwa. He could get used to not having rocks thrown at him whenever he strayed too far from his small cottage or dirty looks and whispers thrown in his direction (he knew people still talked and despised him, but at least they were hiding it better).

With constancy came intimacy and feelings foreign to both of them. Their lips were tentative the first time they touched, Hongjoong holding dearly onto Seonghwa’s shivering frame as their mouths pressed against each other, shaky breaths mingling with smiles and tears of happiness. And soon Hongjoong would start sneaking out of the inn and into the cottage, huddling into Seonghwa’s warmth under the covers. The Captain found it fascinating how the other man would shiver whenever bare skin met bare skin. Fingers traced old and new scars, learning each other’s bodies like their own, and stories were shared under the blessing of the moonlight. And more than once Hongjoong was caught by one of his crew going back late in the morning, the minutes and hours passing by without care whenever they were together.

But this time, it was different. There was a sense of urgency to everything, for the crew of the Illusion would set sail to a place too far to be sure they would be able to come back any time that could be considered soon. The situation was explained, and each breath and touch shared had the taste of farewell. To Seonghwa, every second was filled with desperation, and he could feel the distant and now unfamiliar loneliness wanting to seep into his veins, until he decided to wreck his own plans - or lack thereof. He had never imagined leaving his cottage, but home was now Hongjoong.

There would be no looking back.

“Take my hand, Seonghwa.”

“Wherever you stray, I’ll follow.”