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at some point in your life you will be boiling fruit, water, sugar, and lemon juice in a pot to make a syrup or jam. the instructions will tell you to simmer for a certain amt of time. your timer will go off and you will look at the pot and go, "hm, this doesn't look thick enough. maybe i'll let it go for another 10 minutes." this is the devil speaking. it's only so liquid right now because it is at boiling point. it will thicken when it cools down. learn from the follies of my youth and do not let this happen to you
at some point in your life you will be making a sauce or a stew in which you need to add cornstarch to thicken it. and you will prepare a slurry of starch in cold water and think "this looks like way too little starch to thicken this amount of liquid." this is the devil speaking. cornstarch instantly polymerizes at 95°C and if you add too much it will turn into an impossibly thick goop.
at some point in your life you will be making some sort of cream based dessert that requires gelatin to thicken it. and you will soak some gelatin sheets in water and think "this is too few gelatin sheets for this amount of cream." this is the devil speaking. it will thicken in the fridge and if you add too much you will end up with milk jelly
at some point in your life you will be baking cookies. you will take the sheet out after twelve minutes as the recipe instructs and the cookies will still be glistening and soft. "these don't seem cooked enough," you will think to yourself, "i should place them back into the oven until their edges are nice and golden." this is the devil talking. this is how you get dry, overdone cookies. the cookies will continue to bake on the warm sheet for several more minutes and then harden up after sitting on a rack for a while. trust the process. trust the process.
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everyone hold hands with me i'm going to walk the path of insanity.
i just think it's funny how time and time again mingi and hongjoong are credited as writers on their tracks, because they write their own raps. so hongjoong would have to approach mingi, tell him what the concept of a song is, let him know what they were looking for. they would have to work off each other-- it all needs to flow and make sense, after all-- and in songs where one raps right after the other, it's even more important, even more vital
and so in "body", right, from what we have, hongjoong's painting this picture of something casual that no longer is-- maybe i should have held you that morning, pretending to be cool about you was so hard for me, no one can erase you from me-- and he'd have to explain that to mingi. hey, imagine a lover you got to hold but you had to pretend you didn't care. when you do. all you do is care.
and mingi would have to work off it, right. would have to find something to fall in line with that storyline, because it needs to make sense for the overall song. and so he can go with the same story-- a lover that he played too cool about, pretended he didn't care for, lost because he put pride or nonchalance above his feelings.
except the end of mingi's rap-- you disappear again.
in hongjoong's rap, we have the image of someone who wants to stay, wants to hold their partner, but has to leave. has to leave. and in mingi's, we have someone who desperately wants their partner to stay.
and i just think, you know. even if nothing has ever happened between them, right, because it likely hasn't (meaningful look at camera), what a fucking blow to the gut. because hongjoong sees himself as someone who lets go of someone he loves and mingi is someone who watches the person he loves walk away.
and what if, in this song, they just admitted to each other their fears of why they might not ever work?
genre: angst, action, drama, enemies to lovers (eventual smut! ;))
wc: 105.6k (ongoing)
|| SYNOPSIS: The Black Fever is not a gentle legend, nor a tavern song: it is a name that runs across the waves like a curse, a shadow that cuts through the mist and leaves behind the silence of those who never returned. And when you find yourself dragged away from your orderly life, from your family name, from the certainties that have always kept you fixed in the proper place, you understand that there is no longer a “before” to cling to. They are not heroes. They are not saviors. And they have no intention of making you feel safe. The problem is that when the sea chooses, it demands.
|| WARNINGS! n$fw, smut, MINORS DO NOT INTERACT eventual smut, slow burn, lots of teasing, mentions of assassination, thievery, pirate stuff, violence, alcohol, fembodied reader, polyamory, fluff, relationships, pirate of the carribbean fanfiction inspo, pirate!Hongjoong, pirate!Seonghwa, pirate!Yeosang, pirate!San, pirate!Wooyoung, pirate!Mingi, pirate!Jongho, pirate!Yunho
|| REMINDER: my works do not represent the irl members in any way, this is purely a work of FICTION.
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Summary: Between exhausting finals, late nights at the atelier, and the quiet warmth of your pack waiting at home, life settles into a fragile kind of peace. Still, the world beyond your pack isn’t always as gentle. When the wrong eyes finally notice you, the fragile balance keeping everything together begins to crack and their world seems to start spinning in the wrong direction.
Warnings: difficulty with food, stalking, swearing
A pair of magpies brisked about just at the tippy top of a bare tree.
The birds jostled and shivered in the cold, dark morning. Their glassy, beady eyes reflected the world around, all big and snowy. The wind picked up and blew through their feathers in a harsh current. The birds huddled closer, the branch shaking, making the fresh snow drop to the ground below.
The area was quiet – there was little reason for it to be loud after all.
The small garden in between the expensive houses stood as a small sanctuary, guarding a fragile peace from the chaos of city life beyond it. The smaller bird spread its wings and flew away soon after, disappearing into the dark morning.
Mingi was exhausted. And stressed.
Mainly scared, though.
Terrified actually.
The tall man was used to carrying himself with loud and unashamed confidence. He was a breath of fresh air, boisterous, clumsy, but tender when need be. But over the past few days, it was as if that brightness had shrunk, tucked somewhere between his tense shoulders.
It's been difficult for everyone, he reminded himself.
A lot has happened to him in the past, that much was certain. They have gone through a lot as a completed pack - more than most. But it was as if nothing was ever of such weight as this, as you hovering on such thin ice – and he nor any of them having any option, any real way to make it safer. He could hear it crack when he closed his eyes for long enough.
It tore him apart from within, it did.
If there was one thing he had always prided himself on, it was that he was so in tune with his instincts. He felt you near before he even met you after all. He feels his chest flutter when you look at him for help. He looks up automatically without any other reason but having just felt something only to see your big eyes on him already. He is always near when you stumble on stairs leading to your school. They were there when it was too hard for you to eat, when even getting out of bed felt impossible.
So why weren’t they there when you truly needed them?
Why wasn’t he there when you hurried home in the dark, followed by that creep?
Was there a worse way to fail you as your mate?
He tore away his gaze from where it lingered on that lone bird, sat high on a tree just before the building. It took flight moments later, but he didn’t see it happen. His throat burned and the air felt too heavy for a short moment.
Mingi braced his forearms on the ice-like countertop, letting his head hang low between his shoulders.
He despised himself at that moment.
Oh, if there were only a way to fix all this without hurting you any further. Forget him, he thought. Forget them all, his mind rambled – he needed you to feel better, or he would never heal himself.
His mind spiraled, restless and unforgiving.
After all, was there a worse punishment to behold for failing you? Anything worse than watching his mate, his baby mate he swore to protect every night before he went to sleep, fall apart right before his eyes?
Oh, but it was like torture.
What was the suffering of Cassius compared to his? Like honey and lilies, must it feel-
“Mingi-ah? You good?”
His head shot up at the sudden voice cutting the quiet. The young alpha blinked a few times, trying to clear his head from that thick fog with little to no avail.
Yunho hovered uncertainly in the pristine kitchen. The older idol looked on concerned, unsure if he should step in closer and comfort his pack member or let him be and will away at his sorrows in peace.
Being an alpha was complicated.
Like slippery slope was the space between being too fragile and open, all far too treacherous.
Mingi nodded quickly, clearing his throat before he too finally spoke.
“Yeah… I’m just waiting for the water.”
His gaze strained away once again, stilling on the warming kettle next to the large sink. Yunho frowned lightly, unzipping his jacket as he stepped closer after a minute passed.
Just before the younger, a clean cup sat, the contents of one of those simple instant coffee packets covering the bottom. It felt odd, seeing the dishware they weren’t used to having around. At home it was the cups you’ve made they mostly frequented. This place felt nothing like that. It was as if they were stuck in a hotel room, everything general and impersonal without knowing when they could-
“You sure?”
He hummed absentmindedly while the older hovered on unsure feet. He ended up leaning his hip on the counter and watched on without saying anything else as Mingi poured the boiling water into the cup, the small spoon clinking against the sides as he swirled it around.
Yunho sighed softly, air leaving his lungs almost agonizingly slow as he closed his eyes for a moment, head tilted back as he stretched his neck.
Why was it so achy all the time lately? None of you had properly rested in days.
“Make sure you lock the door after the food gets here, alright? There’s that blue… thing- but I got something more normal too, just in case.”
A small pause followed.
“Don’t forget her vitamins and-“
“I won’t.”
The elder looked to the other alpha at his sudden interruption. He didn’t say anything for a moment, letting his chest deflate.
“Right.”
In the end he settled on patting Mingi’s shoulder shortly.
“I should go before Hongjoong gets on me for taking too long.” He muttered, a faint attempt at lightness that didn’t quite land.
The rapper followed after his footsteps and watched quietly as Yunho pulled on his shoes and a face mask, holding the mug in his hand, resting it against his ribs.
Both of their eyes were tired when their gazes met again.
“I’ll see you for the live later… just… take care of her until then. And if anything happens, call us. Right away. You know the deal.”
“I will, hyung. Stay safe.”
Yunho nodded before he mumbled a soft: “You too Mingi-ah,” soon slipping past the doors and abandoning his younger bandmate. When the door closed, it was all still for a moment before the young man leaned down slightly, taking a small sip of the hot coffee.
His brows scrunched up lightly at the taste, but he took another gulp soon after.
When Yeosang shook him awake that morning, Mingi’s first thought was that something had happened. That something was wrong, that you weren’t okay.
It was as if that was their natural response lately.
It made sense.
But you were still blissfully asleep, much to his immediate relief.
You looked wrecked, tumbled between multiple blankets and the heavy duvet, cheek curled up into San’s chest with your back pressed to his front. San always offered his warmth welcomingly, his eyes still closed but his arms moved soothingly up and down your side in feather like touch. You seemed worn down in a way that made his chest tighten just by looking at you. It was warm, warmer than usual, and minutes after he kicked back the heavy duvet that used to cover him, tucking it around you instead.
The pack was more than careful when they slid off the bed, not meaning to intentionally disturb you. When Hongjoong noted the way you were still curled up between San and Mingi, he whispered and asked them to stay with you for the start of the day. The rapper leaned lower to press his lips over the back of your neck in response, more than happy to spend time with you.
The packalpha seemed to forget that they were your mates as well. It was a reward to be in your company, a treat nothing else compared to.
If anything, it felt like something they didn’t deserve.
But still, what was being discussed in the meetings was crucial. Especially now. They needed to go over the public responses again, and Mingi would have to go through the live segment preparation later, needing to be briefed on any new media training in the complicated, fragile situation they found themselves in. There were also the whole police debacle and the updates the private firm has promised to bring to the table for today.
Everything felt like it was balancing on a knife’s edge.
They would hear about everything important later, promising their leader that they will keep you safe until everyone comes back again with silent nods.
And so, the alphas got ready while you stayed close to them both, sleeping in odd peace. Whenever he allowed himself to breathe in your scent, he stopped for a small moment, noting something lingering under your natural sleepy self, but he tried to shake off any worry, not meaning to disturb you by any means. He tried to calm himself down, reminding himself of the chlorine from the pool they didn’t have you wash off properly last night.
Still, it made his brows pull together.
San soon got up himself, helping the younger man hold you close so you wouldn’t wake up from the sudden chills. He slid off the mattress after he sat still for a beat or two, just watching your chest rise and fall in content.
Mingi stayed behind with you for a bit, nosing at your neck and cheek comfortably.
It was Seonghwa who popped his head in through the open doorway later, knocking softly against the frame before leaning in.
“Mingi-ah,” he called gently, his voice so low it was nothing but a whisper.
“Come here for a minute.”
The young man hesitated. His eyes flickered back to you.
“…Just a minute, it won’t take long.” Seonghwa added, a little quieter this time.
With a small sigh, Mingi nodded. The alpha reluctantly followed his elder, all gentle and unhurried as he made sure you wouldn’t wake when he also left behind the mess of sheets, scenting you for the last time.
He stretched, huffing as his joints popped, and behind him, the bedroom door clicked shut softly.
“San-ah is gonna go get some groceries soon. Stuff we didn’t bring. Do you need anything? Can you think of something for Y/N-nnie that would make her feel any better?” Seonghwa spoke softly, his warm voice a stark contrast to Mingi’s raspy hum of thought.
“We need tissues… straws for her…” He spoke his mind out loud, thinking slow. He was so tired.
The oldest walked a step before him towards the living room, the large space open. San sat on the couch, phone in hand as he typed something quickly, Wooyoung stuck to his side, looking at the screen as well.
He saw Hongjoong through the balcony door outside, speaking on the phone, posture tight. For a second his own mind blanked, and he could only think of something having happened again.
Oh, what was it now? Couldn’t the world just leave you alone for once?
“We’ve got those down already, don’t worry. I meant more the small things. Something she’d like… We thought about that candy she likes - the American one, - oh what is it called again…”
“Reese’s, I’ll look in the store, don’t worry, hyung.”
San spoke up from across the room when Seonghwa ran a hand through his hair, mumbling about his memory getting bad. Mingi gave a small nod, though his brows still pulled together slightly.
“But will they even have those?” he asked.
“Aren’t they only in those specialty shops?”
San shook his head, sparing him a short glance. Both still wore their sleepwear, loose wide pants comfortable compared to the far more put-together looks the others sported. The rapper didn’t even have his shirt on yet.
The older alpha was already pushing himself up a little straighter on the couch. He looked just as tired but there was something firm in his voice when he spoke.
“I’ll find them,” he said simply. “If they don’t have them, I’ll go somewhere else. I don’t care. She’s getting them.”
Jongho huffed a small laugh from across the room, where he sat at the dining table, shoveling breakfast down his throat far too quickly along with still-dead-looking Yunho. Mingi exhaled softly through his nose before speaking again, voice more tired now, words slightly slurred at the edges.
“…Maybe we should get something we can do here, too.”
Mingi dropped unceremoniously next to San.
His notes app was open, and after a short look, he saw the things already sorted into the stores- it was mainly groceries, paired with things like mouthwash and dish soap. The list was longer than he expected. But it made sense, the apartment was practically bare, and they only took so much stuff.
His mind drifted, uninvited, to the meeting from yesterday - the firm, serious tone of the security team as they explained, again and again, that going back home wasn’t an option. Not now. Not anytime soon.
They haven’t broken that fact to you quite yet.
Apparently, it became the greatest new Seoul sensation – their apartment.
Even when full of security, the moment sasaengs swallowed it up, it was like a death zone. Those weren’t they fans. There was no way any of them or their staff could stop by and pick up anything. He felt another pang of guilt at the thought of their previous neighbours.
“What do you mean?” Wooyoung asked, eyes searching his for a minute. Mingi’s tongue darted past his lips to wet them, clearing his throat again.
“Just… stuff to keep her busy,” he said quietly. “If she can’t go to school now, and we have to stay pretty much inside for- well, obvious reasons…there is only so much we can do- I mean she was never into TV so much, so…” He tried to get his point across, leaning all his weight back into the plushness behind him. It felt too stiff. He didn’t like this apartment. Was it because you didn’t seem to like it much?
“No, that’s a good idea,” Yunho spoke up, setting his utensils down. His voice was soft but more awake now. “Mingi’s right.”
He glanced between them, thinking.
“Maybe a game?” he suggested. “Or a book… something she can focus on for now.”
Seonghwa nodded, expression settling into something more certain.
“You guys can stop by a store after lunch,” he added gently. “Pick something out for her properly.”
“She was telling me all about this author the other day…” Woo muttered, brows furrowing as he tried to remember. “Fuck- what was his name…”
His gaze drifted somewhere else for a moment, thinking back.
He’d been driving you to your lessons, listening as you talked so softly and excitedly about some European writer he couldn’t even begin to pronounce. Wooyoung clicked his tongue quietly and crawled through the depths of his mind. He remembered telling you to write down the name of the book for him, but he also remembered that you never ended up doing so, humming that it wasn’t a bother he should carry.
“Hyung,” Jongho spoke up suddenly, voice simple but firm. “You should get her more socks. And panties. Probably clothes in general.”
Everyone looked up briskly when the maknae spoke simply. The youngest looked over the open space in slight question, shoulders lifting slightly.
“I mean- realistically, we can’t go back for her things,” he added, a bit more awkward now under their attention. “And she can’t stay here with, like… four pairs of socks.”
His cheeks warmed as he looked back down at his food, shovelling another bite into his mouth like it would save him. The oldest sighed out.
“No that’s true, good thinking, Jongho-ah.” Seonghwa spoke soon as he pinched his nose bridge.
San was already typing again, thumbs moving quickly over his phone. Somewhere further down the hallway, a door opened, and footsteps followed – but it was just Yeosang who appeared a moment after. The man took a one over the room, blinking in slight confusion.
Seonghwa glanced over.
“We’re figuring out what to buy,” he explained. “Can you think of anything? For Y/N-nnie?”
The oldest voiced, swiftly having the younger alpha nod in understanding slowly, stepping closer. He picked up a cup he must’ve left behind earlier to finish getting his stuff ready for the day, fingers curling around it as he thought.
“A hairdryer…?” He offered softly, sitting down on a free chair, angled towards the rest.
“Yeah, definitely.”
San nodded quickly. You had a habit of going to bed with your hair still damp, and it drove them insane, especially now when it was cold. It didn’t matter that they kept you bundled and safe and that the air in the room was always warm enough, they just didn’t like it – not a single bit.
“Oh- Mingi,” San added suddenly, glancing back at his phone. “Breakfast- we ordered from that French café again, okay? It’s under a fake name, so don’t worry.” He frowned slightly. “Wait, I’ll send it to you.”
A second later, Mingi’s phone buzzed in his pocket. He pulled it out, scanning the order details before giving a quiet nod.
“Got it.”
Not much longer after that the packalpha stepped back in the room, tucking his phone away. The air he allowed in for the few seconds was uncomfortably cold, the morning crisp and dark.
“Everyone ready?”
He took one over the place, and everyone soon hummed in agreement. The pack filed out not much longer after, detouring into the bedroom to whisper their soft-hearted goodbyes to you, scenting you one by one. You slept still, breath fanning out over the pillow tucked into your arms. Wooyoung breathed out a small laugh, barely audible.
Was this a good enough replacement for their comfort?
San was one of the first to leave, pulling on his shoes as he spoke quietly.
“I’ll go now. The mall should already be open- I won’t take long.”
Mingi only hummed in response, nodding faintly. Hongjoong lingered just a second longer near him, clicking his tongue as he closed the door of the bedroom slowly.
“Be careful with her,” he said, voice low but firm. The younger rapper met his gaze.
“I will.”
The leader gave a small nod before following the others to the entrance, sliding a face mask on as well.
Mingi stood there for a moment, exhaling slowly through his nose. He felt too awake to even try sleeping again. So, he decided on working on some music through his laptop, trying to sigh away all his dreadful thoughts as he prepped a cup of coffee.
When Yunho finally left as well, he did as he planned, carefully walking into the bedroom you slept in with tiny, careful steps before he retrieved his MacBook and headphones. He barely disturbed the air with how quietly he moved.
Still, he paused for just a second longer than necessary, eyes flicking toward you - still sleeping, still soft.
“…Good,” he whispered under his breath, more instinct than thought. A minute later, he turned and left you to rest some more.
The idol ended up choosing to settle on the kitchen table to try and get something done. The screen glowed faintly in the quiet apartment as he started working, fingers moving slower than usual.
The world didn’t stop.
Even when it really, really should have.
Mingi barely got through making the initial beat, too distracted, when his phone started to vibrate against the table, only to see an unknown number. He frowned but picked up.
“Hello?”
“Hello, um-“ the voice on the other end stumbled a little, all young and nervous.
“I’m here to deliver your order, but security stopped me at the entrance, and I-uh…”
“Oh-right,” Mingi straightened instinctively, voice evening out, calm and steady as he spoke to the worried teen.
“That’s my fault, sorry about that.”
He leaned back slightly in his chair, gaze flicking briefly toward the hallway in thought.
“Would it be alright if you handed it over to one of the security guards?” He continued, tone polite but firm, as he sat all tall and broad-shouldered, even when there was no one else in the room.
“The area’s restricted right now, so it’s a bit complicated.”
There was a small pause, and the teen’s voice cracked awkwardly.
“Ah- yes, of course, that’s fine.”
“Thank you,” Mingi said, softer now. “Could you ask them to bring it up to the apartment? It’s the third floor, they will know.”
“Okay, I will.”
Mingi let out a slow breath, phone lowering back to the table. His head turned again, almost automatically, toward the bedroom. No noise greeted him, and he felt a small relief flutter deep in his belly. His focus drifted once more, only to be awoken back in time by a curt knock.
The alpha stilled, even if he knew who it was.
He stood carefully, steps silent as he approached the entrance. Still, he didn’t open it right away - just leaned closer slightly, checking through the peephole first.
He wasn’t taking any other risks.
He moved to the set of locks only after he was very sure that it was one of the security guards of the area. Still, he only cracked the door open at first, keeping his body angled in the gap, broad shoulders blocking most of the view inside, guided by instinct.
The tall man with glasses stood there, composed, holding the large paper bag with the café label. Mingi bowed his head slightly in thanks, his voice low as he showed his gratitude once more.
He took the package, grip firm but careful, eyes flicking once over the hallway before he pulled the door closed again the moment the interaction felt complete, making sure no more scents of the outside could get in. Then he locked back up.
Checked twice.
Only then did he move further into the apartment again.
Your mate sorted the food out with sluggish movements, his hands heavy as he put the cheap, plastic cutlery to the side in the bin. He opened the clear lid on the cardboard bowl with mild interest, gazing upon the bright blue smoothie bowl – the fruits stacked above the ocean of flavor in neat, pretty rows, chopped coconut flakes all over like the snow outside.
It looked appealing enough for him to approve, and so he took just the tiniest spoon from the side, letting it sit on his tongue for a moment before he gulped it down –
Good, he thought.
There was no immediate bitterness, it wasn’t chalky or had a texture you would hate right of the bat. Nothing jumped at him that made him think you would make you frown or push it away. It was sweet and tasted like blueberries and overnight oats.
It was good.
Good enough for his mate to try for herself.
Slowly, he went through the rest of the order, shaking his head with a small smile as he looked over just how much there was – entirely too much for you and him for a single meal.
There was that bowl, but also two flaky almond croissants you loved with powdered sugar dusted on the top, to the side of the bag was a still warm sandwich with some fresh avocado, tomato, figs and leafy vegetable he couldn’t remember the correct name of – he smirked as he thought of Hongjoong eating this right up. An orange juice in a tall to-go cup, some French toast (how fitting), and another box of roasted toast with some omelettes he assumed was meant for him as you never really liked eggs too much.
Did you not like protein produce on purpose just to worry them?
He thought and shook his head with a tiny smile, putting some of the food that needed it into the bare fridge. He missed the small photos of you and them they kept back home on the surface of the doors.
Mingi ate slowly after that. The food was nice - it always was from that café - but his mind drifted far past his meal as he clicked through the news on the expensive laptop before him, glasses perched on top of his nose bridge.
And right there it was.
Smacked in the middle of the very opening page. His expression hardened almost instantly.
“…Oh for fuck‘s sake,” he muttered under his breath.
Goddamn, that creep made it to the news with this entire excuse of entertainment to the world.
His jaw tightened further as he clicked the article open, fingers pressing harder than necessary against the trackpad. And as he waited for it to load up, his rushing thoughts were interrupted by the sound of the bedroom door being hurriedly opened and quick footsteps patting over the cold floors, rushing somewhere further down the hall.
Mingi froze for half a second before he was on his feet.
His eyes were wide as he hurried to push back his chair carelessly, making it nearly topple over. He abandoned his cold, unfinished coffee and the still open article, long legs taking him to the hallway.
Something was wrong.
He could smell it.
“Baby?!”
His voice came out louder than he meant, panic already threading through it as his eyes darted to the open bedroom door where they had oh so carefully tucked you in to sleep in for as long as your heart desired left open.
He didn’t spare it much longer, eyes going even wider as he heard you choke through the ajar door leading to the huge bathroom. The alpha didn’t wait more, breath held tight with that nowadays familiar worry over you.
He moved fast, heart pounding in his ears as he pushed the door open-
And his mind was already yelling in havoc at what he saw.
You were slumped against the toilet, shaking, small and fragile as your body heaved again. Each time your tummy would let up, you would whimper a sorry song, just about the softest call for help.
He was by your site in an instant, dropping to his knees without a second thought.
“Oh, baby, okay, okay- c’mon, off the floor.”
He sensed his ribs constrict as he felt you shake like a leaf against his chest from where he slid right onto the floor behind you. He helped you move into his lap carefully in between your heaving breaths as you whimpered, his big hand fast to gather your hair away from your face while the other held you with impossible care by your middle.
“Easy, easy… I’ve got you, alpha’s here,” he repeated, softer now, grounding, even as his chest tightened painfully at how hard you were shaking. You cried in pain as another wave took over, fingers trembling over the cold porcelain.
“Shh, it’s okay- go on, let it out, baby, tummy’s just trying to get all bad stuff out, that’s okay…” he coaxed, leaning forward slightly with you, his hand smoothing over the side of your head in slow, grounding strokes.
His own heart was pounding far too fast. Could you feel it?
He tucked himself closer only for his eyes to widen once more – and it wasn’t at your soft gasping breath this time. The heat seeped through your clothes, through his own, startling in a way that made him suck in a quiet breath.
His brows knit together rapidly, worry tightening sharp in his chest as he pressed his cheek briefly against your temple.
You were burning up.
The next thing his mind finally felt like registering was your scent. It hit him properly now, slipping past the sharp tang of sickness. Milky. Warmer. Smooth and oddly sweet in a way that made something deep in his instincts spike like swords and spears.
You have dropped right into that safe embrace of omega space.
So this was the limit, it seemed.
“...Oh, princess,” he breathed, his voice dropping even further, something aching slipping into it.
His grip softened somehow, impossibly more careful as his thumb brushed slow, reassuring circles into your side. He leaned in slightly, pressing his face into your hair for just a second, scenting you - grounding you, grounding himself - before pulling back just enough to check.
His eyes flicked quickly, scanning, needing to make sure there was no blood-
Thank god.
He dipped his head, brushing his nose lightly against your hair again, scenting you once more, trying to steady the way his thoughts were starting to scatter. He needed to get some medicine in you, the moment your stomach would settle. And you needed to drink something, all dehydrated now- And San, he had to call San and Hongjoong--
You slid into his chest with more heaviness, his thumb quick to swipe against your chin to get rid of the mess, humming soothingly. You breathed slowly, eyes all far away as they bore into the wall just in front of you both, tightly huddled in the cold bathroom air.
“Does your tummy hurt, ‘mega?” he asked quietly when your body seemed to give you a break. “Feels bad?”
Mingi coaxed an answer out of you, grazing his fingers tenderly through your hair and off your hot forehead.
Oh, why did they not realise earlier?
Was this why you smelt off?
Why was it so warm this morning?
“What hurts, honeycomb?” he tried again, voice barely above a whisper. “Tell alpha, hm?”
In the end you just shook your head, a small cry leaving you as you tucked your nose under his jaw. His heart melted into smooth mush, protective instinct flaring hot and overwhelming.
“Oh, my sweet princess…”
He pressed his cheek to the side of your head, holding you closer.
“I know… I know, it feels really bad right now, huh,” he murmured, voice low and steady despite the way it threatened to break.
„Alpha will make it all better ’mega. I promise.”
Carefully, he shifted you in his hold after another minute or two passed without you throwing up, guiding you so your head rested over his collarbone more securely, tucked safe beneath his chin. Right where his scent was naturally the strongest.
Right where it was the safest for you.
One arm stayed firm around your middle while the other slid under your thighs.
“C’mon… up we go, my sweetheart…”
He lifted you slowly, giving you time to adjust, letting you cling to him as he rose to his feet, worried the motion would make your stomach disagree once more.
“Legs baby, need you safe- there you go… good girl…“
Your legs tightened weakly around his waist, arms curling into him as he steadied you, one hand coming back to support your back.
He reached back briefly to flush properly, the sound making you whine, the noise barely there. It made his mind race. You sounded really weak.
“Shh, sh-sh-sh, ‘m sorry, I’m sorry…” he murmured quickly, pressing his cheek to your head again, eyes momentarily closed. “All done now, no more noise, baby.”
His nose brushed through your hair once more, scenting you instinctively, trying to ground both of you as his mind raced ahead- what you needed, what to do first, how to make it all better-
This wasn’t the first time you’d fallen sick like this.
You were fragile - an omega through and through - and sometimes your body just decided it had its fill and that was that.
They knew how to take care of you.
He knew how to take care of you, he reminded himself.
But the circumstances were never worse. He had absolutely no clue as to where any medicine was in this place, or if there even was any to begin with.
You were warm, too warm, all melted against him, skin damp and clammy where your face nuzzled into the curve of his neck. Your breaths came uneven, little whimpers slipping out, muffled against the softness of his skin.
A thermometer? He had to check your temperature to make sure you didn’t need to go to the doctor right away.
That happened once- the heat of your body was so high during an extra bad flu you caught in school that they had swept you up and off you all went to an ER omega health specialist. It was practically midnight and was probably one of the worst nights of his life – but this week took the golden place by now for sure.
His chest tightened again, a low, aching squeeze.
“Shh…I’ve got you…” Mingi’s voice was a low hum, steady and warm, vibrating gently through his chest as he looked around the room anxiously. He moved slowly, every gesture measured, careful not to jostle you. One arm tucked under you, the other resting over your tummy, gentle pressure keeping you warm and safe with him.
“It’s okay, ‘mega… alpha’s got you. Alpha will make it all better.”
A soft whimper escaped you. You clung a little tighter, but so impossibly weak still.
“I know… I know it feels yucky, hm,” he murmured, pressing his cheek briefly into your hair.
He shifted slightly, reaching toward the cabinet behind the mirror, careful to keep his hold steady as he nudged it open.
Empty.
“…Right,” he muttered under his breath.
Of course it was. He felt your scent shift again, doing such an odd swoop that it made him unbelievably uncomfortable and protective once more. He scented you again, chin-tucking you closer.
“Baby, you tell alpha if tummy starts to feel all funny again, okay? Don’t hold it in ‘mega.”
He pressed a soft kiss into your hair before moving again, quicker now, scanning the room with growing urgency, repeating the two words like a mantra in his head.
Thermometer. Medicine.
Anything.
His eyes flicked over every surface, every shelf, every drawer. But apart from their toothbrushes, some toothpaste and the bag filled with your hygiene things, the room was practically empty.
“C’mon, goddamnit, just give me something…” He muttered, frustration sharpening his tone despite himself. The words slipped out quietly, strained, before he softened again as you shifted against him.
“Sorry, baby… ‘m sorry,” he murmured, smoothing his hand over your back. “Alpha’s here…”
He sighed in frustration, noting of the last place he had yet to check. Gritting his teeth in displeasure, he toed the dry mat left by the built-in bathtub, rubbing your back calmly.
“I just need to check one more place, yeah?” he murmured softly. “I’m gonna put you down for just a second- right here, nice and soft.”
So carefully - so impossibly carefully - he crouched low with you, guiding you onto the mat, one hand never leaving you as his mind hurriedly cried out about the possibility of you slipping back and hurting yourself by falling.
You blinked up at him slowly, shoulders quivering as your own hand reached up to hold onto the hem of his shirt.
“I’m right here, ‘mega, not going anywhere,” he promised softly, his own palm covering yours as he angled himself the other way.
“Just gonna look under here real quick, okay?”
He reached for the cabinet beneath the sink, heart hammering, every instinct screaming to hurry up- but apart from pipes, dust and a seemingly forgotten hairpin, there was nothing under the sink either.
Mingi felt despair claw over his mind. There was no way they took a thermometer with them, and he doubted they even had time to take medication apart from the usual supplements they kept for you.
Oh, but what now?
He inhaled slowly, closing his eyes for a second as he willed himself to be calm among the storms. Your mate turned back towards you, hands heedful as they gathered you right back up, his hand stroking away the fine baby hairs stuck to your face uncomfortably, noting just how glossed over your eyes were. Were you this hot when he set you down, or was he imagining things?
“Honey? Does your tummy feel bad right now? D’ you think you might be sick again baby?” He hated having to make you think when you were all dazed and slipped into that honey, mushy, vulnerable state. That, of all times, that, was the time he and your other mates were meant to be there to step in and think for you. It was practically impossible for you now, of course it was.
Even just dropped, you were truly theirs to take care of, and now you were sick on top of that.
You took a minute to understand his words, but he was patient, his lips pecking your fire-like forehead. In the end, you shook your head, all small and fragile, before cuddling closer to him.
You would be his death one day. Did you even realise that? He would skin himself of all flesh and muscle until his marrow would remain should it make you feel no pain again.
He smiled gently, pressing his lips softly to your temple.
“Thank you, baby, what a good girl, always so, so good for me…” he whispered, letting you feel the warmth of his calm, even though his heart still raced.
With painstaking care, he lifted you fully, cradling you against him as though you might shatter if he let go for even a second. His fingers brushed over your back and along the curve of your shoulders, trying to soothe away the discomfort and clinging hotness of your illness, but all to no avail, it seemed.
Step by careful step, he carried you out of the dim bathroom, moving faster now that he held you, the weight of you pressing warmth into his chest, back toward the kitchen.
He rifled through cabinet after cabinet, panic flaring a little each time he came up empty. Every passing cupboard was like a spike burrowed into his chest – should he just take you to the hospital and not risk it?
But what about anyone recognising him?
What would happen if they saw him with you, their mate whose terrified face was being plastered all over the news?
He felt as if he was going to throw up himself for a second.
“Hang on, okay? Oppa’s right here…”
He fought to remain steady, murmuring gentle reassurances against your hair as he finally grabbed his phone. Fingers shaking slightly, he dialled Hongjoong, voice soft but urgent in its low hum, standing in the middle of the kitchen, holding the phone to his ear as he tried and comfort your small whimpers.
It took agonisingly long, the nearly mocking sound of the constant hum frustrating him even further. He cradled you slightly, holding you closer. The seconds felt like hours, each one stretching painfully on and on-
And then, the call connected.
Instead of Hongjoong, it was Yeosang who answered, his voice quiet and concerned.
“Hey, uh, Hongjoong left his phone. He stepped out to talk to the police for a minute, so-”
“Hyung, she’s sick.”
Mingi cut him off without meaning to, voice tight.
There was a pause.
“…What?”
“She was just throwing up, and she’s really hot, hyung, like-” His words stumbled over each other, breath a bit uneven as he glanced down at you again.
You needing to go to the hospital was something none of them wanted to have happening. Especially now. Oh, but why was everything going wrong these past few days?
A quiet whimper left you against his shoulder, your fingers curling weakly into his shirt as you heard the faint sound of your other mate’s voice. Mingi’s breath hitched.
“…awh, baby, I know, I know,” he murmured immediately, turning his head to press his cheek briefly against yours before focusing back on the call.
“Hyung, she’s in pain-”
“Okay, okay- hold on.” Yeosang said quickly, already moving. There was the sound of a door, muffled voices in the background.
“We’re still in the meeting, I’m going to get the others. Don’t hang up.”
And so, the line didn’t disconnect, but the phone shifted, followed by rustles of movement, a few voices growing louder and the door shutting loudly.
“Mingi? What happened?”
Yunho’s voice this time breathes a little unevenly. Behind him, there was a quiet rush of low but urgent voices overlapping.
“Y/N-nnie is sick,” Mingi said again, quieter now but no less strained.
“She’s… she’s not doing too well, hyung.”
He carefully hoisted your clammy body up higher into his chest, lips pecking your flaming temple in natural movement. In the background, he heard his older packmember, his voice quick and not too loud, explaining swiftly to the rest.
There was a small shuffle, then Seonghwa’s voice came through, steadier but tight at the edges.
“Mingi-ah.”
“…hyung.”
“Does she need to see a doctor?” he asked gently, but directly.
“You need to tell me honestly- Does it look serious? You need to make sure she doesn’t need to see a doctor.”
Mingi swallowed, glancing down at you again, his hand instinctively moving back and forth over your thigh.
“I don’t know,” he admitted, his voice dropping. “I mean- she threw up a bunch, but there wasn’t any blood or nothing, I checked, it was just normal, I guess- but she’s really warm, and I can’t find a thermometer anywhere…” He breathed in consciously and slowly, trying to calm his slightly racing heart.
The oldest huffed out a strained breath, frustration slipping through.
“Fuck… Yea, I didn’t take that…” He tried to correct his language, and appear steady in the nerve wrecking situation, knowing just how worried Mingi probably was – they all were when it came down to your health.
“Alright, we’ll figure it out.”
A brief pause- then, sharper, the older alpha having turned away from the phone-
“Yunho, call San. Tell him to get a thermometer and medicine, tell him to hurry.”
Seonghwa came back on the line, voice lowering once more.
“Alright, listen to me.”
The rapper only hummed in response, cooing to you softly when your hand tightened on his collarbone. He took in your scent carefully, making sure no sharp scent of sickness would jump out at him, worried you would throw up again.
“Slow movements, okay? Don’t jostle her too much. And watch your scent, she’ll pick up on it if you panic, and that’ll only make it worse for her.”
Mingi nodded even if Seonghwa wasn’t there to see it.
He knew that. Realistically, he did know the basic steps on what to do when you got sick – keep you safe, keep you warm, keep you hydrated, get some medicine in you the moment it was possible, stay close – he knew all this.
“Did she eat anything before this? Something that might not have sat well? The pool, did she perhaps drink some of the water accidentally?”
“No, no, she woke up and went straight to the bathroom- she didn’t eat nothing yet. And definitely no pool water.”
“Alright, just making sure. Is she warmer than you?”
That was smart, he must give him that.
It made sense – omegas were naturally a bit colder than alphas and betas, a natural biological occurrence in order to maintain more of their energy when situations required it. If you had a fever, a good way to tell how serious it is was by comparing it to their body warmth. Why didn’t he think of that sooner?
Mingi shifted slightly, bringing the back of his hand to your forehead, then your cheek, then again, trying to make sure.
“…Yeah,” he murmured. “I think so.”
“By a lot, or just a little?”
He hesitated, checking again, even slower this time, shushing your whimper when he had to move you from being buried under his chin for a minute again.
“I… I think just a little, hyung. But- I’m not sure.”
“Uh-huh. Is her voice slurred at all? Even just a small bit.”
“No hyung, she dropped. I think she got overwhelmed and just was startled by the pain.”
The oldest breathed out low and slow, and he could just about picture his brows creased in anxiousness. He held you a tad more rigid at that thought.
“…Ah. Okay. Wait for a bit-“
The phone picked up some more movements before he heard the idol speak once again, a bit further, as he must have turned away from the device again: “Jongho-ah, go get Hongjoong. And Yeosang, please go talk to Director Noh.”
“Mingi-ah, it’s probably the best if you try and get her temperature to go down for now, just until San gets there. Maybe like a washcloth or even a cooler bath could help for now.”
The rapper's mind cleared at the smooth advice, thinking himself. He murmured something in soft agreement in the end, tucking you even closer for now.
He wanted to sob at this point.
By the time San finally arrived home, breathless and frazzled with anxiousness, you were being cradled within a half-full bathtub, the water just meek over tap warm, and your mate had you rest against his chest. You shook like a leaf, Mingi shushing your small whines constantly, heart broken and mind in havoc.
The minute he heard the front door locks switch out of place, he squared up, pressing you even closer to his damp chest, a tight scowl marking his expression. But the moment he heard the older singer, he let his protectiveness drop again, and he breathed in your scent to try and calm his racing heart.
Talk about trauma.
“Babygirl? Baby, honey, where are you? Mingi-ah?”
San sounded worried, no doubt having driven near the speed limit to get home as soon as possible. At the sound of your other mate, you whimpered, full of pity and sadness, glossy lips feverishly pink from how you had been nibbling on Mingi’s scent gland for the past few minutes, hoping for his scent to be more full and nice. Yet the alpha was too on edge to provide that at the moment.
He didn’t dare yell back, not wanting to disturb you since you were so sensitive to noise in omegaspace, instead cradling you closer, palms smoothing over your bare back. It didn’t take too long for San to find you both, having abandoned the many bags at the shoe rack, and hurried into the apartment further.
San’s breath caught up at the sight that opened in front of him.
You looked so small curled up against Mingi’s broad chest, trembling, making the lukewarm water form waves breaking at your skin. Your eyes were barely open, glassy and unfocused, lips parted around weak little breaths as you instinctively pressed your face against your alpha’s neck, searching for a magic balm in your pain.
“Oh, honey…” San whispered immediately, voice dropping into that careful tone all of them used whenever your omega was frightened or overwhelmed. At the sound of him near, your lashes fluttered. A faint whine left you, weak and miserable, arms twitching like you wanted to reach for him but didn’t quite know how.
“I’m here,” he soothed instantly, crouching beside the bathtub, hand finding your feverish skin. “Alpha’s right here, sweet thing. Tummy’s giving you trouble, huh?”
Mingi looked utterly exhausted already.
His damp hair stuck to his forehead, eyes slightly red-rimmed with stress as he kept one arm securely around your middle beneath the water. The moment San moved close enough, though, some of the panic melted from his face, relieved help had arrived.
“She’s burning up, hyung,” Mingi mumbled quietly. “Been shaking for like the past half an hour too…”
San’s expression softened even further somehow, hand immediately reaching to cup your cheek, crouched low on the warm tiles. The heat against his palm made his brows pinch, an uneasy sigh leaving him.
“Awh, poor baby,” he murmured. “My little omega slipped up while sick, hm?”
You made another tiny noise at that, instinctively turning your face into his hand, nosing at the scent gland lingering by his pulse point. The singer’s scent flooded a little stronger immediately in a natural response.
“It’s okay, cub,” he promised softly.
“Alphas are gonna make it all better now.”
Then he leaned down low, pressing just about the gentlest kiss to your burning forehead. Mingi sat up taller behind you, making the water move further.
“A towel, hyung…”
“Yeah, don’t worry.”
San stood quickly, immediately grabbing the fluffy peach-pink towel hanging from the drying rack - your favorite one, still carrying traces of all eight alphas’ scents from the laundry being done still back home. It was bound to disappear the moment they put it to wash in here.
“Okay, sweetheart,” he cooed as he returned, uneasy about how to approach the situation for the best outcome. “We’re gonna pick you up now, yeah? Nice and easy.”
You barely reacted beyond a weak whimper. Of course you did. There was little your mind comprehended at this time, slow as if each thought was treading through honey rivers. Even the simplest sentences proved too difficult now.
Together, the two alphas carefully shifted you upright. Water streamed down your body instantly, droplets rolling over your skin while you shivered pitifully from the temperature change, whimpering at the pain coming from all over your body. The second your balance wobbled, San tucked you securely against his chest, wary not to loose his own balance.
“There we go,” he soothed.
The towel wrapped around you immediately, cocooning your body while San lifted you fully from the tub like you weighed nothing. His cheek rested against the top of your wet hair instinctively, one large hand rubbing slow circles into your back beneath the towel.
You melted against him at once, small puffs of air brushing against his chin.
“That’s right cub,” he praised quietly. “Stay close, baby.”
Mingi climbed out after you both, drying himself off in rushed, messy motions before pulling on his sweatpants with fumbling hands.
“Hyung did you get the thermometer?” he asked quickly, still glancing over every two seconds to make sure you were still okay.
“She has a fever, no?”
“Definitely.” San adjusted his hold on you before gently undoing the top of his jacket.
“I got medicine too.”
The second the fabric parted enough to expose his scent gland, your omega reacted instinctively. A tiny needy sound left you as you buried your face closer.
Both the alphas slowed down. San nearly melted into the marble floors.
“…There’s my baby.” He hushed, closing his eyes. Your trembling eased just the slightest bit while his scent wrapped around you further. Mingi stared for a second with helplessly fond eyes before snapping himself back into motion.
“Hyung, maybe a jumper?”
“Please.”
“Okay, yeah.”
He hurried off toward the bedroom, footsteps quick against the apartment floor before returning not even a minute later with fresh clothes bundled in his arms.
“I got the hoodie Yunho-hyung wore last night,” he explained quietly. “Maybe the scent will help…”
“It will,” San nodded immediately, trying to keep them both sane.
The two of them worked together carefully after that. The younger crouched in front of you while the older alpha held you securely upright against his chest, both of them speaking softly the entire time so you wouldn’t get startled anymore.
“Baby, lift your leg for me?”
“That’s it, such a good girl…”
“So good for us, honey.”
Your brain barely processed anything beyond warmth, scent, and the familiar voices.
A tiny broken sigh escaped you as soon as Yunho’s hoodie dropped over your shoulders.
“There she is,” Mingi whispered as your face peeked out, sounding seconds away from crying. San looked down at your sleepy, pained, flushed face tucked against his chest and brushed damp hair away from your forehead gently.
“Alright,” he murmured softly after a second. “I got the stuff for her. Let’s go to the kitchen, and sort it all out.”
Mingi nodded.
The world outside served morning light by the time they carried you out, careful not to overwhelm your sensitive senses anymore. San kept you tucked against him the entire walk while Mingi hovered so close he practically walked into the older alpha twice.
Neither of them wanted to be more than an arm’s reach away from you right now.
Once in the kitchen, Mingi sat down first before San carefully settled you into his lap, only letting go when he was positive you wouldn’t somehow tumble off.
“There we go,” the rapper whispered to soothe, large palms rubbing slowly over your sides once he had you settled against his chest. One hand eventually slid beneath the hoodie to rest against your tummy, trying to warm you up when he noticed you trembling again, lips ghosting over your temple. You made a weak little sound and curled closer automatically.
“I know, princess…” he mumbled against your temple, sighing.
Meanwhile, San hurried toward the mountain of shopping bags abandoned near the doorway earlier, returning with his arms nearly full.
It looked like he had bought out half the pharmacy.
Mingi blinked, a broken teasing smile finding its way to his lips.
“…Damn, hyung.”
San ignored him completely as he started unloading items onto the counter one after another.
Two thermometers - a digital ear one and a regular one too. There was liquid fever medicine and a specific liquid nausea medicine, both for omegas only. Some cough syrup and digestive relief packets. Fizzing electrolyte tablets to put into water. Some new vitamin gummies. A heating pad with a cute pink polka dot pattern. He brought several different teas specifically for upset stomachs and fever recovery too, and more soft tissues with lotion in them because your nose got red quickly when you got sick.
“…you bought the entire place.” He huffed a fragile laugh, tucking you closer.
San huffed without shame while ripping open one of the thermometer boxes with a little too much force.
“…you would’ve done the same.”
Mingi didn’t oppose him. And so, the older alpha scanned the instructions briskly, brows furrowed in concentration while he set the thermometer up.
“Okay… under the tongue…” he muttered mostly to himself, a small frown among his eyebrows.
Soon he approached carefully, his expression softening again the second your bleary eyes never quite found him.
“Babygirl,” he cooed quietly, crouching beside Mingi’s chair, palms sliding up and down your bare tights for comfort. Your skin was already slick with sweat, and you were out of the water for barely any time.
“Alpha needs to check your temperature, okay?”
You looked miserable.
Your fever made your eyes glossy and unfocused, instincts leaving you clingy and dazed while your body clearly ached all over. Even sitting upright against Mingi seemed exhausting, making you slump over to one side.
“I know,” San soothed instantly at a small swallowed cry that left you. “Just for a second.”
He guided the thermometer gently toward your lips, hand resting against your jaw. The second the cold metal touched your tongue, though, you whimpered in distress, brows pinching while you tried weakly to turn your face away.
“Oh, baby,” San cooed immediately, free hand cradling your cheek.
“I know it’s cold, honey, oh, I know.”
Mingi tightened his hold around you instinctively, rubbing your tummy slower beneath the hoodie, scenting you over and over.
“You’re okay,” he whispered near your ear. “Just for a little bit, princess. Then all done and no more of that.”
Your eyes watered from sheer overwhelm more than anything else. Everything felt wrong and uncomfortable to you at that moment. San’s expression turned impossibly gentler somehow as he brushed his thumb beneath your eye.
“No tears,” he soothed softly. “Alpha’s right here.”
Carefully, patiently, he held the device, making sure to never knock your teeth.
Then, after an agonising while, a small beep sounded.
Both alphas looked down instantly, Mingi quick to lean over your shoulder to look closer.
“…37.3,” San read quietly.
Mingi’s arms tightened around you immediately. For a second neither of them spoke, sharing an uneasy glance. To anyone else it probably wouldn’t seem catastrophic, but omegas naturally ran colder than alphas and betas. Your normal body temperature hovered around thirty-five degrees.
Thirty-seven point three was already too high.
Thirty-eight meant hospital time.
“…Okay,” San exhaled slowly, forcing calm into his voice despite the concern flickering across his face, trying to sort his thoughts out. “Okay, we caught it early.”
The younger man looked at him anxiously. “But it’s bad, no?”
“It’s not hospital bad,” San answered honestly, already reaching for the second thermometer, ripping the flimsy plastic off.
“But we really need to keep checking often and get some medicine into her.”
You whined weakly the second you saw him lifting another device.
“Last one. I promise cub.” he soothed instantly, gently angling your head to access your ear better, tucking some hairs behind it. The ear thermometer upset you less, though you still squirmed and whimpered at the strange sensation while San shushed you gently the entire time.
“Nearly done now…”
Beep.
The singer checked it.
“…Okay, it’s the same.”
Mingi cursed softly beneath his breath.
Your stomach twisted unhappily at the tension in the room, omega instincts making you even more sensitive to their worry, a whine leaving you. Immediately San abandoned the device on the table.
“Hey,” he murmured, crouching back in front of you. “None of that, baby. Everyone’s calm, yeah? Alpha’s calm.”
He pressed a kiss to your forehead again before reaching for one of the liquid medicine bottles, reading over the instructions hastily.
“’gonna help with the fever and tummy,” he explained softly while measuring the dose carefully. “Need you to drink it up f’ me.”
You didn’t process his words. But when the syrup touched your tongue, your face scrunched up in quick response. A distressed noise escaped you as you tried weakly to push the little cup away.
“Shh, honey,” Mingi soothed, holding you closer. “Just a little bit more, not much left.”
Between the two of them, they somehow managed to get most of the medicine into you. Still, the second you swallowed the last mouthful, your stomach lurched violently and your entire body tensed in the alpha’s arms.
A hiccup escaped you as you started to cry in distress, feeling wrong again. Your breathing turned uneven a second later.
“Baby?”
But you couldn’t get the words out through the haze and panic fogging your hazed over brain. You only whimpered helplessly, eyes suddenly filling again with tears while your stomach cramped hard enough to make you curl inward.
Then you gagged. Mingi reacted instantly.
“Oh fuck- okay--”
He stood so quickly the chair nearly toppled backwards all over again, arms tightening around you while he rushed toward the sink just a few steps away. San was right behind him immediately, one hand rubbing your back the moment Mingi held you between himself and the countertop, hand lifting your hair away.
“It’s okay, princess, ‘s just the bad stuff again,” he tried to calm you.
But nothing came up even if your body dry heaved miserably.
Again.
And again.
Every retch made frightened little noises leave you while tears spilt helplessly down your cheeks from how badly it hurt.
“Oh, sweetheart, shh…” San whispered brokenly.
Mingi looked downright frantic by the fourth dry heave wave.
“Shh, shush,” San answered quietly, still rubbing your back. “I know.”
Eventually the gagging eased enough for your body to slump limply against Mingi’s chest again, exhausted and trembling, fingers tight on his wrist.
Both alphas exchanged worried looks.
“…Bed, a nest,” San decided softly. “Let’s just try and let her sleep it off for a bit.”
Mingi nodded again.
San finally paused long enough to shrug off his outdoor jacket and kick away his shoes before following the younger alpha toward the bedroom. Even then he stayed close enough that his fingers kept brushing over your arm reassuringly every few seconds.
The young rapper settled into bed first before carefully pulling you against his chest beneath the blankets even if he absolutely didn’t feel like sleeping. San joined you both moments later on your other side, immediately tucking you close between their warmth.
“There we go,” Mingi whispered, kissing the back of your head.
San reached over to smooth your hair away from your sweaty forehead.
“We should text the others about the temperature and stuff,” Mingi mumbled quietly, not looking up away from you for too long.
“Yeah,” San agreed immediately. “Good idea.”
He grabbed his phone from his pocket, shuffling a little awkwardly, before quickly updating the group chat while the other alpha kept you tucked impossibly close.
You fell asleep not even ten minutes later. If there was one positive in you being in omegaspace it was probably that.
But even asleep, you stayed curled inward, one hand weakly tangled in Mingi’s shirt like you still needed to make sure he would stay there.
Your mates were anxiously careful with you, San’s movements slow as he pulled another blanket higher over your shoulders. They were worried to speak much too loudly and wake you accidentally, sharing a few understanding glances instead.
Mingi still fought bravely the sleep away for nearly another half hour after that, eyes constantly opening again every time you shifted or whimpered. But eventually exhaustion caught up to him too.
So, when the other idol looked over at some point only to find the younger alpha slumped half against the pillows, one arm still wrapped tightly around your waist even in sleep, his brows furrowed with lingering worry.
He couldn’t help himself but to be angry at the world for letting this happen to him, to you, and to his entire pack.
Gosh, how could this have happened to them?
For a moment, the vocalist simply watched the two of you, trying to will his mind into being at peace, but it was too difficult, and he too was exhausted. And so, when he gave up on it himself, carefully, trying not to wake either of you, he pulled his phone back out and snapped a couple pictures for the others, wanting to at least attempt to soothe them. Yunho sounded very worried when he called him, rightfully so, though.
An omega’s health was no joke after all.
His heart squeezed painfully while sending the pictures.
After another hour passed of staying as awake as possible, he very carefully slipped from under the duvet. The second your brows twitched unhappily, though, he immediately soothed a hand over your hair, scratching behind your ear gently.
“Shh… alpha’s right here,” he whispered.
Only once you settled into Mingi’s chest did he move.
He returned a minute later carrying the heating pad tucked beneath one arm along with the ear thermometer and a cup of steaming coffee he sat down on the bedside table. The heating pad had been wrapped in a soft clean towel before he slid back into bed beside you.
“…There you go,” he murmured softly, resting it gently against your tummy beneath the blankets. You barely even twitched, but frankly, he took it as a good sign, if anything. So then, carefully, so, so carefully, he brushed your locks aside and checked your temperature again with the ear thermometer.
He looked at the screen the moment the digits appeared.
“…37.2,” he whispered quietly to himself.
It was still way too high, but a little lower.
'Small victories, small victories,' he chanted in his head to still his worried heart. They would take anything at this point.
San, awake between you both, finally reaching for the coffee after discarding the godforsaken device, opening the news article the younger mumbled to him about earlier, reading quietly while keeping one hand over the heating pad over your stomach the entire time.
Maybe like an hour passed that way, but he didn’t keep track of the time, brows furrowed in carefully stilled anger. It was long enough for Mingi’s alarm to eventually vibrate weakly against the mattress somewhere in his pocket.
The rapper groaned softly the second he woke, the alarm was briskly turned off as immediate panic sat across his face before his eyes landed on you still asleep against them.
“…Baby?”
“She’s okay,” San whispered immediately, not wanting you to wake up. “Still sleeping.”
Mingi visibly deflated in relief before rubbing tiredly at his eyes. He sighed, helping your other mate hold you instead as he slipped away, just sitting on the edge of the mattress for a minute or two, watching your chest rise and fall slowly.
Finally, the younger man leaned down carefully, pressing the softest kiss against your eerily warm forehead.
“I’ll come back soon, princess,” he whispered.
“Sleep lots for me, okay? Need ‘u to feel good when I come back.”
You didn’t stir, not even when San instinctively helped burrow you deeper into his chest.
He was scared about leaving you behind when feeling this way but had no choice but to hurry and get ready to go to the company. Your mates spoke in hushed whispers so they wouldn’t wake you, quietly discussing what was the best course of action now.
“You want me to order food or something?” Mingi asked softly while pulling on a clean hoodie, a mask already under his chin.
“’s better if you stay with her instead of cooking.”
San just shook his head, no hunger within sight.
“No, I don’t think she should eat anything big right now, especially if she can barely keep the medicine down.” He rubbed your tummy gently through the blankets. What a troublesome little thing.
“I picked up crackers and some light stuff at the mall. It’s still in one of the bags in my car, though. I’ll go grab it later.”
Mingi nodded reluctantly after another beat passed by.
“…Text me if anything changes.”
“I will.”
“And if she hits thirty-eight-”
“We go straight to the hospital. I parked close to the elevator, don’t worry.”
The rapper swallowed hard before looking at you one last time. Then finally, but very reluctantly, he left, making sure to click all the locks shut behind him again.
The apartment went quiet again after that. At some point, exhaustion dragged San under too, and he matched you soon enough.
But even then, when the front door finally unlocked hours later, his eyes snapped open right away.
Voices filtered quietly through the apartment. How much time has passed?
Fuck, was it the afternoon already?
He had just closed his eyes for a minute and--
“…’re asleep?”
“Probably.”
“Keep your voices down.”
San sat up almost immediately on instinct, one arm tightening protectively around you where you slept curled up into his warmth. He wanted to calm down, wanted to tell himself nothing was wrong, that there was no way anyone else knew all the correct lock combinations and the pin patterns and had the chip too, but it was raw and fragile, the space they’ve created around you.
A moment later Yunho, Jongho, Yeosang and Mingi slipped into the bedroom carefully, a sheepish smile marking the oldest’s lips when he made eye contact with dishevelled, visibly tight San.
All three visibly slowed down at the sight that greeted them.
“Oh…” Yunho breathed quietly.
“Fuck,” Mingi whispered, already looking devastated all over again. He was hoping by the time he would be back, you would be bouncing around, full of glee and happiness and no longer sick. You were just as sickly as before, though.
“She looks done…”
You were still just as flushed, hair all messy against San’s shirt. You were breathing slightly too warm against his neck while the heating pad rested over your stomach beneath the blankets, by now barely warm. San rubbed your back slowly.
“Yeah,” he admitted quietly. He had checked your temperature twice by now and was left worried each time.
“She isn’t feeling good.”
The room filled with worried silence instantly, the mates shuffling closer as if called by nature. Then Jongho carefully approached the bedside table, moving with the same slowness all of them always used around you in omegaspace, even if you were still visibly asleep.
“Lemme check,” he whispered, finding his hyung’s eyes. San nodded with no words, sitting up a little taller without disturbing you. Very gently, the maknae brushed sweaty strands of hair away from your forehead and ear before checking your temperature with the ear thermometer.
All four alphas watched him, and when his face fell slightly, theirs did the same.
“…Still 37.2.”
The tense silence was broken by a low-spoken curse, mumbled by Yunho, who ran his hands through his hair.
When you woke up, the room was dim, and you felt like you were on fire. Slowly you blinked open, a broken whimper escaping your aching throat as you clumsily sat up a little taller. For a minute or two you were left fully confused – where were you?
It made sense.
You hadn’t had time to truly accustom yourself to the new apartment yet, and especially in omegaspace unfamiliar places were tricky. Your thoughts were sluggish and frizzed around the edges, memories slippery and difficult to grasp.
But then your nose twitched weakly.
You could smell your mates close, and it was okay then, your lazy brain tried to explain as you slowly sat up among the mess of blankets and pillows spread on the couch.
When did you move here?
You didn’t remember, slow and dizzy as you whimpered and whined slowly, hoping your mates would come by to help. Why were you feeling so badly? Oh, but your mind wasn’t helpful now, circling back to your alphas – you wanted them to be here, why were they not? You felt all hot and sticky and uncomfortable beneath the blankets, and suddenly your omega couldn’t understand why no one was there holding you anymore.
And so, one of the blankets tangled around your ankle as you tried to stand, nearly making you trip before you caught yourself weakly against the couch arm.
Another whimper escaped you, louder this time.
It felt all so hot and uncomfortable, your limbs hurting as you whimpered a little louder, trying to call for your mates without words too hard to form. You swallowed when your stomach did an unnatural flip, whining, looking around for your pack – but they were not within sight, and as your body started to feel cold again, your slow head decided your mates will fix it, because your alphas make it better, and you didn’t feel too good now, all confused and weak.
You could smell your pack stronger somewhere nearby, though, and your fevered omega latched onto that instinctively.
Alphas make it better.
Step by step you walked through the empty kitchen, blinking slowly at the simmering pot on the stove in confusion, left on low heat.
But not even that cleared the fog in your mind, and like bee guided by the smell of honey, you trudged clumsily past the living room into the hallway towards where you could smell your mates.
Why did they not sleep with you?
It was so cold. Why was it so cold all of a sudden?
As the door came closer, you braced your hand on a wall, stumbling a little as your breath hitched up. But the alphas’ voices were closer now, just behind that bedroom door, and that was Jongho oppa laughing at something Yu oppa was saying, and then-
As you finally made your way to the door, you felt as bad as ever, left dizzy and bleary-eyed in the dim hallway. Whimpering loudly to call for the alphas in your discomfort, you heard their voices grow quiet immediately, and as you reached to paw at the shut door handle clumsily, you were just about to get the door open and-
"Baby, no!”
Your head turned so quickly you had to shut your eyes for a second, and the hallway tilted around you. By the time you could focus your vision again, Yeosang’s hands were on your shoulders, guiding you briskly away from the door.
“No, no, no, fuck,” he breathed out anxiously, his voice far more panicked than you’d maybe ever heard directed at you before.
“Honey, what were you thinking?”
Your face crumpled instantly. What did he mean?
Yeosang looked genuinely horrified.
“You can’t go in there right now,” he whispered quickly, crouching to your level while trying to guide you backward toward the living room. “Baby, they’re doing a live, no-”
A confused cry escaped you. What was he even saying? Your head registered his anxiousness, his terror, and you were left helpless in understanding why. Were you in danger?
But words were too foreign for you now, impossible to form and understand fully, your body rendering you useless in that for now. As the alpha guided you back towards the couch, you could tell just how wrong something was based on his scent, burnt and clearly bad. Your eyes warmed with tears in response.
He was already worrying himself sick over your fever, all of them were. Earlier he’d been resting with you and San on the couch, but eventually the older alpha had gone downstairs to grab the remaining shopping bags from the car while Yeosang took over making dinner.
He’d only stepped away to the bathroom for a minute.
Just one minute.
And somehow in that tiny gap you’d woken up alone and gone searching for your mates.
“No, baby,” he murmured again, much softer this time while guiding you carefully toward the nest, tucking you under the mountain of blankets as if that would fix the situation. “No, no… we told you to wait here for alphas, remember?”
You didn’t.
You didn’t remember anything from this afternoon, in fact, probably having been too dazed and tired to comprehend much at all.
Yeosang visibly had to compose himself before speaking again, breathing in slowly, as he turned in the direction of the hallway before looking back up at you.
“You can’t go into the room during a live, honey,” he explained gently, kneeling in front of you.
“The cameras are on. When cameras are on, you must stay put ‘mega.”
He told himself over and over in omegaspace you weren’t fully in control rationally, but this just made a messy situation catastrophic.
There was absolutely no way the viewers didn’t hear you through the door.
But he couldn’t let his mind spiral when you looked at him with teary eyes and a wobbly lip, clearly out of it.
Why wouldn’t your alphas come hold you? They always held you.
Why was Sangie so upset with you?
The alpha’s heart cracked straight down the middle at your constant whimpers.
“Oh baby…” he whispered helplessly, arms enveloping your warm torso.
Then, further down the apartment, the bedroom door finally cracked open.
Yunho stepped out smoothly, having excused himself under the guise of needing the bathroom. The alphas tried to play it off, joking even as they shared uneasy glances.
They were lucky their scents couldn’t be transferred through the live, obviously very worried. One look at his face told the other alpha immediately that everyone inside had heard you crying through the door.
And probably heard Yeosang calling for you too.
The taller singer’s eyes widened slightly the second he saw your tear-streaked face, pearls running down your cheeks.
“Oh fuck…” He whispered, just wanting to curse the entire world out at this point.
Why could they just not be left at peace with you?
With their sweetest girl, never meaning no harm. He felt his head spin at the thought of what the clips of the live would imply. And this was meant to fix everything. And it just ruined the situation completely. There was no way they could hide you at this point. His vision blurred.
Still, he approached calmly to the best of his abilities, his voice dropping into that impossibly gentle tone he always used with you after you dropped.
“Sweetheart,” he murmured while crouching beside Yeosang.
“Why’d you get up without Yeosangie, hm?”
But you just sobbed, confused at their wrong scents. Yunho closed his eyes briefly before rubbing a careful hand over your hair, tutting softly.
Your omega couldn’t handle this – them being angry about something you did, but you not understanding why.
They were never sad about you looking for them before, so why now?
Another sob escaped you before your stomach suddenly lurched violently. Both of your mates straightened up instantly.
“Oh-”
You gagged hard, your tummy cramping. Yunho reacted first, standing up at lightning speed, his gentle hand finding your arm in support.
“Sink, sink. Now.”
Yeosang scooped you up just as fast, carrying you quickly into the kitchen while you dry-heaved miserably against his shoulder. Tiny, frightened whines left you between each gag, tears soaking into his shirt. Why did this keep on happening?
“It’s okay, let it out,” he soothed frantically, not even caring about his shirt. But there was nothing but spit that left you.
“It’s okay, sweetheart. You’re okay ‘mega.”
But again, nothing came up. Only painful empty heaves left you.
Yunho rubbed your back firmly while holding your hair away from your face, trying to keep his own panic from showing. He couldn’t just leave you now if you were this bad, but he also needed to get back to the bedroom, or this would just spiral to hell.
“Breathe in,” he encouraged gently, squeezing your hand. Were they always this shaky?
“Slow, my baby. Slow.”
Eventually the retching eased enough for you to sag limply against Yeosang’s chest again, exhausted and shaking. The man hoisted you up, scenting you thoroughly to try and rid you of the sickly scent.
“Oh honey…” he whispered brokenly. “Gosh, you feel so warm…”
You only whimpered weakly, completely worn out now. You didn’t understand what was happening, small and scared. Yunho exchanged a worried glance with Yeosang over your head before forcing another soft smile onto his face for your sake.
'If you’re calm, she is calm, if you’re calm, she is calm-'
“Okay,” he murmured gently. “No more walking around by yourself, hm? Alpha’s gonna stay right here now.” The younger one nodded immediately, already carrying you back toward the couch while keeping you tucked impossibly close, shushing your pained cries.
Just then the main entrance sounded, the mates staring towards it before they visibly deflated once more when they smelled San coming in, all big with the multitude of bags in his arms.
How did he even manage to carry all of that? No wonder he took so long.
The moment he noticed the burnt scents of, like, everyone, he dropped the stuff before rushing further in, shoes kicked off somewhere behind him. His eyes were wide as he took in Yunho and Yeosang holding you on the couch, shushing your cries.
“Shit, shit, what’s wrong? Baby? My baby?”
His palm found your knee as he rubbed it furiously up and down, eyes fleeting over his band mates. When he left a few minutes ago you were still asleep on the couch and seemed fine, did your fever get worse? Shit, did he need to take you to the hospital?
“San-ah she nearly walked into the live, it was an accident, she didn’t realise…”
At Yunho’s quiet explanation, his lips were left slightly opened as his eyes widened before he schooled his expression back to being calm.
Eventually he nodded, whispering a small ‘okay’.
“…I think you can hear her in the live.” The oldest of the three mumbled weakly in the otherwise quiet room. His hand was gentle from where it was rubbing over your back repeatedly.
“And the live is still going? Hyung you should go back, it’s gonna look even worse.”
Yunho bit his lip before he got back up wordlessly, pecking your temple and going back to the bedroom.
“Okay, baby,” San said softly after a moment, his voice carefully even despite the way tension sat heavy in his shoulders. He brushed your hair back from your damp forehead before forcing a tiny smile onto his face.
“How about you watch something for a little bit, hm? “ He willed himself to stay calm in the situation, even though he too was near breaking point by now.
You blinked up at him through watery eyes, still curled halfway into Yeosang’s chest, visibly exhausted from crying and the sick spell. The confusion in your scent was still there, milky and distressed all at once, but the panic had dulled enough that you weren’t clutching on to the alpha’s hands anymore, and your breathing had slowed significantly.
“There we go,” Yeosang whispered immediately, kissing the top of your head. “That’s our good baby. Always so good for us.”
San swallowed hard at the tiny sound you made at that, something soothed and needy all at once, before he reached for the remote sitting abandoned on the coffee table. His fingers moved quickly through the menus, bypassing loud shows and complicated k-dramas before settling on some brightly coloured cartoon with soft music and simple dialogue.
He lowered the volume until it was barely above a murmur before setting the remote aside again. You only shifted closer instead, knees pulling up slightly as Yeosang adjusted the blanket around you, tucking it tight around you.
Your eyes stayed fixed on the screen after that, following the simple animation with slow concentration while San rubbed absentminded circles into your calf, already entranced by the moving pictures.
From down the hallway they could faintly hear Mingi’s muffled voice continuing the live, steady but strained around the edges. Every now and then another member spoke up, probably trying to fill space for him.
After a while your breathing started evening out again, the awful hiccuping cries tapering into occasional sniffles. Your body gradually melted heavier into the couch cushions, eyes drooping more and more each time the cartoon changed scenes.
“There she is,” San whispered under his breath, more to himself than anyone else.
Together they helped ease you down properly, arranging the blanket over you carefully so you stayed warm. You made a tiny sound of protest when Yeosang shifted away, instantly reaching after him.
“I know, angel,” he soothed immediately, catching your hand, kissing your knuckles. "We'll be right here.”
“Just by the stove,” San added softly. “We need to finish up dinner, baby, but we’re watching you the whole time. Promise, not going nowhere.”
Your sleepy eyes searched their faces for a moment before finally relaxing again once Yeosang pressed another kiss against your forehead, scenting you. They would have to check your temperature in a while, and you were just about in time for another dose of medicine too.
“Promise,” he repeated gently.
Only once you settled back down did they finally move toward the kitchen.
And the second they were out of immediate earshot, the carefully maintained calm cracked to pieces.
San dragged both hands over his face with a stifled groan, pacing once near the counter before stopping himself. His voice dropped to a low hum.
“We have to call Joong.”
Yeosang looked miserable immediately.
“I’m so sorry,” he whispered, wringing his hands together.
“I literally just went to the bathroom for like, two minutes, San-ah. I didn’t think she’d wake up yet, I-”
“Hey.” San cut him off instantly, softer this time. Yeosang’s eyes flickered up.
“It’s okay.” San shook his head firmly, though frustration still burnt underneath his exhausted expression. “It’s not your fault, not hers either.” His jaw tightened briefly as he looked around the apartment briefly.
“This just fucking sucks in general.”
Yeosang looked close to crying anyway. They all knew very well how bad this could get.
If viewers had truly heard you clearly, and if someone had already clipped it, this entire thing has already been blown out of proportion, and this just added a cherry on top.
San exhaled sharply through his nose, glancing toward the living room again to make sure you were still resting. Your eyes were closed by now. He thanked the universe for the Omegaspacemark-trademark-sleepiness then.
“Fuck's sake,” he muttered quietly. “This was already more than enough as it was.”
Before Yeosang could answer, San’s phone suddenly began vibrating violently against the counter.
Both of them froze before the younger quickly reached for and snatched the phone off the counter almost immediately, fingers fumbling slightly around the edges of it in his rush to silence the violent buzzing before it could carry into the living room.
His eyes darted instinctively toward the couch first, putting it on speaker if the volume was at its lowest.
You were still asleep.
Curled beneath the blanket with your cheek smushed into the cushion, breathing deep and uneven in that heavy, floaty way omegas always did whenever they slipped too far into space. The colourful light from the cartoon flickered softly across your face, muted music still playing quietly enough not to disturb you.
“Hyung-”
“San-ah, for fuck’s sake, what happened?”
Hongjoong sounded breathless.
Not angry. Not even frustrated, really. Just genuinely worried.
The sound of movement echoed through the speaker behind him- there were muffled voices, doors opening and shutting somewhere nearby, and staff talking too quickly over one another. San could practically picture him pacing already, one hand tangled in his hair while managers hovered around him trying to fix the situation all at once.
“Management is freaking out right now,” the packalpha continued before San could answer. His voice was tense in a way that immediately made Yeosang straighten beside him.
“Listen, this is bad.”
The young man holding the phone pressed a hand hard against his forehead, exhaustion crashing into him all over again, a headache crawling over his temples.
“…I don’t know,” he admitted helplessly, words coming out rough and quiet. “I was bringing the bags up from the car, and Sangie just went to the bathroom when she woke up.”
Beside him, Yeosang visibly wilted further at the mention of it.
“She was alone for like two minutes, hyung,” he added quickly, trying to ease the guilt before it could swallow the younger whole.
“She probably woke up scared from the pain ‘cause nobody was there, so she went looking for us and…” His jaw tightened briefly.
“She heard them talking in the room and just –"
A heavy silence followed. Hongjoong cursed quietly under his breath.
“Goddamnit…”
The leader’s voice sounded muffled for a second, like he’d dragged a hand over his face.
“Okay,” he said eventually, though the word sounded more like he was trying to convince himself than anyone else.
“Okay, listen to me first. They’re ending the live soon, manager Noh texted Mingi to wrap it up.”
Another pause.
“Some staff were monitoring everything when it happened, and so…”
He stopped there.
San felt his stomach sink immediately.
“…It’s bad,” Hongjoong admitted finally, quieter this time.
“I don’t- I don’t know what to do San-ah.”
The kitchen suddenly felt unbearably small. The leader cleared his throat uncomfortably. Yeosang’s hands twisted together anxiously in front of him while the older alpha stared blankly at the counter, jaw tight enough to hurt.
Because if Hongjoong was panicking, then this had already spiralled way past what they could fix quietly. There was no way this could be ironed out.
Yeosang lowered his head, guilt practically dripping off him into puddles by his feet.
“I’m so sorry,” he whispered again, his voice cracking faintly around the edges. “Hyung, I swear I only left for a second. I didn’t think she’d wake up and I would have never-”
“Sang-ah.”
Hongjoong cut him off immediately. His tone softened despite the exhaustion buried inside it.
“It’s okay,” he said firmly. “I know none of you would ever do something like this on purpose. I know.”
That somehow only made Yeosang feel worse. His eyes dropped to the floor completely after that, not lifting again, shoulders curling inward while he nodded silently even if the older man wasn’t there to see it.
Hongjoong sighed quietly through the phone before speaking again, calmer now, trying to redirect himself toward the things he could actually control.
“How is she?” he asked softly. “Is her temperature any better?”
San glanced toward the medicine lined up neatly beside the stove before looking back toward the messy couch again.
“She’s been steady at 37.2 for the past few hours,” he answered.
“No higher than that. No lower either.” His voice lowered instinctively when his eyes landed on you again.
“She just fell asleep. We’re gonna give her the next dose soon.”
“And the nausea?” Hongjoong asked immediately. “Did she throw up again?”
“No,” Yeosang answered this time, still quiet.
“Not really. She starts dry-heaving sometimes, but she hasn’t actually thrown up again since earlier.”
“And the doctor?” The packalpha asked after another second passed. “Should we take her in?”
That made both of them hesitate. Neither of them knew anymore.
San rubbed tiredly at his eyes.
“I think…” He exhaled slowly. “I think we should wait a little longer first. She might get better on her own once she settles down properly, gets some more sleep, drinks more…”
Another silence stretched between them, it was long enough that the cartoon music drifting from the living room suddenly felt unbearably loud despite barely being audible at all.
When Hongjoong finally spoke again, his voice sounded thinner somehow. More uncertain.
“Okay,” he murmured. Then quieter, he continued: “Listen… tell Yunho to call me as soon as they finish.”
San frowned slightly.
“Why?”
Hongjoong inhaled sharply on the other end. And suddenly neither San nor Yeosang could breathe in fully and properly either.
“I think…” The leader faltered.
“I think we might have to address it.”
The words landed like a physical blow.
The guilt-ridden alpha’s head snapped up finally. The singer just stared ahead blankly for a second, genuine horror slowly settling across his face.
“Hyung,” he said instantly, voice dropping into a harsh whisper. “She’s in omegaspace right now. We can’t do that without telling her first. How are we even going to explain that to her after she gets better? Hyung-”
“The clip is already all over Twitter, I saw it myself,” he admitted quietly. “People shared it almost immediately, and I don’t think…” He stopped speaking for a second, audibly struggling to force the words out.
“I don’t think we can pretend it didn’t happen.”
The kitchen fell silent again. It dawned on them all then.
You never wanted to be public, definitely not yet. And now it wasn’t even something you got to choose.
You were sick.
Confused and slipped up. Half out of your mind with omegaspace and fever.
And somehow, they had still failed to protect you from the world again.
San squeezed his eyes shut briefly, his chest aching at the thought.
Before anybody could say anything else, the bedroom door suddenly clicked open down the hallway. Yeosang turned first. San’s head snapped toward the sound a second later, panic immediately replacing whatever else he’d been feeling.
“Hyung, they just finished up,” he whispered quickly into the phone. “We’ll talk later.”
The leader exhaled shakily.
“Okay,” he murmured. “Tell Yunho to call me soon, please.”
“We will.”
The call ended quietly after that, leaving the apartment swallowed by an awful kind of silence that neither of them quite knew how to break. That was solved for them within a few seconds, though, as visibly pale Mingi hurried over with the rest in tow.
“The hell happened? Is she okay? We were so worried...” The alpha was breathless, cooing when he hurried over to you, leaving the rest by the kitchen counter. Yet, the man was more than careful, hesitating before letting his hand simply rest over your covered shoulder, biting his lip.
“There’s no way people didn’t hear that, right?” Jongho asked under his breath, already sounding like he knew the answer himself.
“Like… there’s actually no way.”
No one spoke words of comfort towards the maknae, averting their eyes.
San leaned back against the counter tiredly, putting his phone away before turning to the rest once more.
“Hongjoong called.”
That got everyone’s attention, Mingi scurrying back to hear better. Yunho’s eyes found San‘s first.
“What did he say?”
The younger exchanged a quick glance with Yeosang before answering slowly, voice measured.
“He said management’s freaking out.” His jaw tightened.
“Apparently it’s really bad.”
The room fell silent again. Mingi blinked slowly, shoulder slumped against the fridge.
“What does that even mean?”
“Someone clipped it already,” Yeosang said quietly, guilt still heavy in his voice. “Apparently it’s all over Twitter by now.”
Jongho muttered a curse under his breath immediately. Even when careful, their scents turned bitter naturally at the reality they were forced to face. San just nodded weakly, taking his time to find the right words.
“…Hyung thinks we might have to address it.” He finally spoke low, bracing himself on his forearms.
“What?” Mingi whisper-hissed so loudly that Jongho instantly motioned for him to quiet down before all five of them reflexively glanced toward the couch to make sure you hadn’t woken up. By some miracle you were still curled up.
„Dude, she’s still in omegaspace,” he whispered harshly, frowning. “What the fuck you mean, address it?”
“I know,” San said immediately, sounding just as stressed, arms raising slightly. “I know that, okay? Just- management’s losing their minds, and the public aren't much better.”
“But we can’t just do that without even talking to her first,” Jongho added quietly, though his expression looked just as conflicted. “She doesn’t even know what happened properly yet.”
“She barely understands what’s going on right now,” Yunho whispered miserably. “How the fuck would we even explain this to her after she feels better? Just be like, 'Hey baby, I know you didn’t want to go public just yet, but hey, shit happens, right…!‘ Are you actually fucking with us right now?“
San and Yeosang just shook their heads miserably, with no words of defence to share. The guilt that settled over the room after Yunho’s outburst was crushing.
After a few minutes of long silence San whispered into the air, his voice nearly breaking: “Yu, hyung asked for you to call him when you can.”
The older just nodded, sighing before making his way to the balcony, nearly shutting the glass door behind him. No words were shared, the most noise was the shuffling of Mingi as he dropped tiredly onto the couch edge close to you, both hands clasped around the back of his neck.
After a minute or two he turned off the tv, and it was radio silence just like that.
Eventually, the singer stepped back inside slowly, expression somehow even more tense than before. That alone made all of their stomachs drop.
“What?” Yeosang called softly, too scared to hear any more bad news. Yunho closed the balcony door fully behind himself before looking between all of them, an uncertain expression marking his face.
“We have to head back in.”
Jongho frowned first. “Right now?”
Yunho nodded once.
“…Yeah, right now," he said quietly, hand absentmindedly rubbing over your temples.
“We’re gonna have to do a response.” He added after a strangled second, pocketing the device as if that would push all the issues away for once.
The words landed like a blow to the gut.
Mingi looked up immediately from where he’d been sitting, just bewildered at this point. “What?”
The oldest of the bunch swallowed once before continuing with the explanation.
“It’s already been decided.” He rubbed tiredly at the back of his neck. “Manager Noh agreed with the rest of the management that 'it's the best course of action,' and apparently…” He let out a humourless breath. “Apparently we don’t really have much of a say in it anymore. Hongjoong has tried, it’s- it‘s pointless.”
“What the fuck?” Mingi whisper-hissed, trying not to raise his voice and failing anyway. “Already? They can’t just do that. I mean-”
“That’s just bullshit,” Jongho muttered under his breath, brows knitting together immediately, standing taller, ever protective. “She doesn’t even know what happened yet.”
“Yeah,” Yunho agreed quietly, swallowing the lump in his throat before he went on to the counter, gathering the most important medication into the centre.
San leaned heavily back against the kitchen counter, one hand dragging over his face while exhaustion settled deeper into his features.
“Okay, fine, let’s say we go,” he said finally, voice rough around the edges. “How are we supposed to do that while she’s like this? Does the management not understand she is sick or…” He laughed bitterly, the anger raw and pure.
Yeosang’s eyes drifted immediately toward you then, softening almost painfully. You were so vulnerable in their care, and they-
“Hongjoong said we should bring her.” Yunho’s eyes dropped briefly to the floor, tongue clicking in dissatisfaction.
“We’ll do the response and then come straight back home after, I guess-- I don’t know, I really...-”
The uncertainty in his tone made it obvious he hated this just as much as everybody else did, just leaving his words unfinished with an uncertain wave of hand.
And so, your mates were left uncertain and huffy, eventually moving to gather the essentials for you to be able to nest and some of the medicine, uncomfortable with the thought of you leaving this place for now.
Soon enough San has gathered you into his arms once more, apologising to you profusely with the softest voice imaginable. You looked impossibly sleepy still, blinking slowly against the dimmed light while San kept you tucked against his chest.
One of his hands rested protectively at the back of your head while the other rubbed slow circles over your spine beneath your shirt, trying to make this sudden change as comfortable as possible.
“There’s my baby,” he whispered softly the second your eyes fluttered open, pecking the tip of your nose.
“Hi, sweetheart.”
A tiny distressed sound left your throat immediately, moving to turn and go back to sleep, but his gentle palm moved you back. Your brows furrowed together as you looked around blearily, clearly confused why everyone was standing around dressed and tense and watching you so carefully.
Yeosang had to look away for a second, fist tight around the plush pants he brought for you to change into.
“I know, angel,” he whispered quietly while crouching beside the couch finally. “I know you’re sleepy.”
“We just gotta go somewhere really quick, 's just gonna be in and out," Yunho added gently from nearby, your medicine now gathered in a clear plastic bag.
But when your face crumpled almost instantly instead, small tears immediately gathering in your lashes as your fingers curled weakly into San’s hoodie, their carefully gathered composure shattered to pieces.
He rocked you carefully where he sat, palm sliding slowly up and down your back while you sniffled against his neck, his scent drowning you.
“You’re okay,” Mingi whispered gently while handing a fresh shirt and the pants over. “Can we put these on for me, pretty?”
You only whined quietly in response, too exhausted to fight properly. You were done, and there was nothing they wished for more than to just be able to let you sleep the sickness away.
Still, after a few more minutes of soft reassurances and exhausted cuddling, they somehow managed to get you downstairs without upsetting you too badly again – that is badly enough for you to throw up more.
By the time San moved from the elevator towards the car, you were already half asleep again, fretful and scared. The second the van door shut, sealing out the cold afternoon air, you sighed softly and burrowed deeper into his heat on instinct.
You drifted in and out the entire way there, barely conscious enough to understand you were moving. Every few minutes you’d stir weakly against San’s chest with a distressed little whine, only calming once someone’s scent imprinted onto your skin in a fresh mark.
Sometimes Yeosang would smooth your hair back from your sweaty forehead from the seat beside you, tutting at how warm you still were.
Once, when the van hit a pothole too hard and startled you awake enough to cry softly, Jongho leaned over immediately just to squeeze your shoulder reassuringly while Yunho murmured hurt apologies from the front seat.
You fell asleep after a few minutes, tiring yourself out. When the oldest went to park the van in the underground garage, the sun was setting outside already.
The fever and omegaspace had you floating somewhere way too far away, consciousness slipping in and out so easily that by the time they reached the conference room upstairs, you hardly seemed aware of where you even were. Hongjoong, Seonghwa and Wooyoung fretted over your weak form, smooth hands gentle on your firey cheeks.
They couldn’t believe this.
The second San had tried setting you down briefly near the couch lining the wall to stretch, you’d started whining in panic almost immediately, weak hands grabbing desperately for his hoodie while tears welled up all over again, sliding down your skin like waterfalls.
“No no no,” Wooyoung had immediately soothed, moving beside you without hesitation and pulling you into his side. “Okay, okay, nobody’s leaving, petal shh.”
Soon after, when everyone was seated and the meeting was about to start, you found yourself in his arms, slumped against his chest while breathing uneasily, wrapped up in one of your blankets.
The alpha pressed his cheek against the top of your head and kept rocking you slowly whenever the room got too loud after that, and you were left dazed.
You never woke fully, catching small fragments of what was happening around you- there, that was San’s scent, angry and sitting just next to you both, looking like he might actually lose his mind.
“This is insane,” he said gruffly, staring down at some paper without touching it. “She doesn’t even know this is happening.”
A cold response followed from across the table, but you didn’t lift your eyes to look at the one speaking, hearing that: “The response still needs to be made,” before you became weightless again.
Time must have passed, as when your eyes blinked open again, it was because of how wrong Seonghwa’s scent was.
You tucked yourself closer to Woo, hoping his would mask the other alphas, but it was to little avail.
“So that’s it?” Seonghwa asked then, his voice dangerously calm. “You’re just deciding all of this for her?”
The oldest alpha laughed softly then, but there wasn’t anything amused about the sound. You didn’t like it.
“No,” Seonghwa cut in sharply, anger finally breaking through.
“No, I don’t think you do.”
The room went silent, and Wooyoung tightened his hold around you slightly when you stirred further from the palpable tension.
“She’s sick,” he said, each word clipped now.
“She’s been in omegaspace all fucking day, she can barely stay awake, drink or eat, she’s terrified and confused, and you’re all sitting here talking about her like she’s a fucking scandal instead of a person.”
“Seonghwa.” Hongjoong warned quietly, his own scent burnt.
"No, Joong, because what the fuck is this?” Seonghwa snapped again. “You’re handing us scripts about her life while she’s literally asleep five feet away because she’s too sick to even comprehend what’s happening. Do you even realise what this will do to her?”
“Our priority right now is protecting the group.”
From the corner of your eye you noticed San staring at the manager.
“…Excuse me?”
“The situation is already damaging public image,” the man continued evenly after he sighed faintly, as if the conversation were becoming inconvenient.
“We’re trying to minimise the impact before things escalate further. She signed the agreement months ago,” he said flatly.
“Legally, KQ Entertainment is not obligated to prioritise her privacy in any way over the group’s reputation. It’s always been this way. You all know this, so does she.”
You heard some chairs scrape briskly, and you tucked your nose right under Woo’s chin then, the alpha responding by shielding the back of your head to hold you closer. As if that would keep you away from all of this.
“What did you just say?” Yunho hissed eerily quietly.
„Sit down,” another manager warned immediately.
“No, you don’t get to talk about her like that,” Mingi snapped, fury bleeding through his voice despite how carefully he was still trying not to wake you.
“You don’t get to act like she’s disposable, like she is a ‚situation‘, just because we’re under a contract.”
Before anything else could be said, Wooyoung picked you up, your small tears glistening in the sharp light, holding you closer as he glared at the management. “Nobody’s upset with you. You’re okay.” he whispered to your ear, voice softening on instinct, before addressing the rest that you two will in fact 'take a small breather and will be back soon.‘
He cradled you in his arms in a random dance studio after that while you cried, scared and confused why your mates were so angry.
By the time they gathered into the recording room, you had lost all sense of time entirely.
You barely even cried out in distress when Wooyoung sat you down again. Just to your right you noticed a plain white backdrop stretched behind eight neatly lined black chairs while staff hurried around adjusting cameras and microphones with rushed efficiency.
You stayed quiet then, allowing Yeosang to tuck more hoodies under your head.
“We just gotta sit here for one tiny second, okay?” The alpha had said, making your lips pop open in an unspoken question. He pecked your cheek sweetly, cooing as he looked you over again.
“No crying,” Yeosang whispered quickly, heart visibly breaking at the sight. “Baby, please don’t cry…” You didn’t even notice your eyes have welled up again.
“Alphas will be right there the whole time,” Jongho added quietly while adjusting the blanket around your shoulders over and over. “Look, honey.” He pointed gently toward the chairs only a few feet away. “See? Right there.”
You stared at them helplessly. None of this made sense.
Why were they all dressed suddenly?
Why were there cameras?
Why were Jongho and Yeosang wearing makeup?
One by one the members moved toward the chairs in front of the backdrop, every single one of them glancing back toward you constantly as they sat down. Your cheek rested against a scented fabric, lips trembling as you tried to think clearly.
The minute the camera operator finally raised a hand, the room went fully quiet.
Hongjoong inhaled slowly before bowing his head politely toward the camera, the rest of your mates following suit.
“Hello,” he began quietly. “This is ATEEZ.”
“First, we want to sincerely thank everyone who has continued supporting us over the years.” His hands tightened together slightly in his lap. “And we also want to apologise for not being fully open about certain parts of our personal lives until now. The truth is that over time, we formed a full pack relationship, and we are very grateful for the stability and love we’ve found together.”
“Part of our pack includes someone who has not been introduced publicly,” Yunho continued next after a small pause, voice slightly strained. “Someone who wished to remain private despite our careers being public.”
Their words were like buzzing in your head, left misunderstood and odd. What were they even talking about?
“Recently there was a serious breach of privacy involving our living environment. This situation has affected not only us, but also our pack, nearby residents, and staff.” Mingi spoke clearly, but it aided you in no way.
“We kindly ask everyone to refrain from sharing private information, visiting the area, or spreading unauthorised clips and discussions related to this situation.”
Seonghwa looked directly into the camera when he spoke next.
“This has been extremely difficult for all involved, and we ask for understanding and privacy moving forward.”
You completely zoned out for whatever else it was that they'd said, only registering a spark of anger in their scents again.
After a while chairs scraped back harshly. It was the leader who crossed the room the soonest before crouching beside the couch and carefully gathering you into his arms again, looking at you longingly.
He pressed a kiss into your hairline gently.
He loved you.
So much.
Did you even realise that?
That was love coursing through his veins, love for you.
It was bound to never run out, and he would never bleed out.
“All done, love, no more now,” he whispered gently.
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This time, in collaboration with MCM and FIX ON, I'm holding a photo exhibition.
Thank you so much for coming.
I took these film photos myself, integrated them with everyday objects, and expressed them through an analog technique called cyanotype. Combining the analog elements and legacy that I love, I worked with MCM to bring the gaze and sensibilities I've been quietly collecting into this single space. I think you'll be able to truly feel those sensibilities right here.
As many of my fans probably know, I put a lot of thought into showing my most authentic self through this work. You've seen a lot of the curated version of me, but I wanted to capture the moments and everyday objects I usually record, and share them with you in the most natural way.
Rather than just the finished product, I wanted to showcase the organic flow and the process itself, which is why I prepared this exciting project. Not only can you see the film photos I took and the cyanotype artworks, but more importantly, there's also a listening zone where you can listen to my recently released solo EPs. As you slowly walk through the space, relaxing and enjoying yourself, it will serve as a visual and creative element where you can feel what thoughts I have, and what kind of music and perspective I want to share.
I don't think 'FIX ON' represents a fixed, rigid identity. Change is natural, but what truly matters is holding onto ourselves - not losing who we are - as we change.
As you stroll through, I hope you take in our direction, the music, and everything else here, and just experience it in your own way. However, the core meaning that MCM and I want to convey is exactly this: "Let's not lose ourselves, and let's keep finding our way back to who we are - one step at a time."
I hope this exhibition can be of some help to you in doing that.
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