#there are things I think I can do better now

[giannaln4]

I'm Sorry

lando norris x fem reader

summary: A moment of frustration made Lando react the way you never thought he would, and boy, would he regret it.  (1.6k words)

warnings: angst, swearing, argument, mean lando,  fluffy ending

a/n: ok so for this, i decided to go back to Baku and put the quali result in a totally different perspective than my last fic. i guess i kinda like it but i'm not very good at describing arguments 😭 anyway pls let me know what you think!!

ALSO i have an announcement to make and i'm really excited for it :)

check out the original request here!

↺ back to navigation — send me a request!

The qualifying this weekend was an absolute mess, to say the least. Lando was hard on himself no matter the result he got. Even if it was good, he would always find something to criticise himself, but P17? Everyone was in for a treat, you thought.

The worst part is that it wasn’t even his fault; it was a stupid mistake by the marshals, and he was not to blame for it. A yellow flag interrupted his lap, and he was immediately kicked out in Q1. 

Seeing the first qualifying session being over with his name in red was not something anyone wanted to see, especially not him, and now that every point was essential, you knew it crushed him.

He came back to the garage to see the rest of the qualifying with his team, and as soon as he got out of the car, you saw how frustrated he was. You understood him, of course, it sucked that this is how the weekend was going, but you would be there for him no matter what.

Once Lando took off his helmet, he headed straight to his driver’s room, and he didn’t even look at you when he walked past. That meant he wanted to be alone, but oh silly you, you decided to follow him.

He let out a loud sight when he heard the door open and close behind him, not really in the mood to hear what you had to say. He knew for a fact you were going to tell him he did well and it wasn’t his fault, which he greatly appreciated, but right now, he just wanted to suffer in peace.

“Baby?” You called him out, just testing the waters, but he didn’t respond. Instead, he hummed in annoyance. “I know you don’t want to hear this right now, but-”

“You are right, I don’t want to hear it,” he interrupted you, not even turning around to face you. He placed his hands on the desk and leaned into it, taking a deep breath. 

That should have been your cue to leave the small room and leave him alone, but for some reason you didn’t. “Lando, don't beat yourself up over this. It wasn’t your fault, and I’m sure things will be better tomorrow. We all know what you can do and you still have the race-“

“This is MY job, Y/N. I probably know better than you do,” he snapped, raising his voice and finally turning around. “This is what I’m fighting for, we all are. Do you know what’s at stake here? I finally have the chance to compete for a championship, and I just blew it.”

To say you were astonished was an understatement; this was the first time he ever snapped at you that way and you didn’t know how to react. “I’m sorry, I just-”

“Every point counts, and not even starting in the top 10 tomorrow- fuck, not even top 15, there is not much I can do.” Now, he looked more mad at you than frustrated at himself, and that crushed you. “I came here to be alone for a bit, I was hoping you would at least respect that." You stayed silent, knowing a single sound would make you cry, and you didn’t want to piss him off more than he already was. “I know you are trying to help, but you are not, you can’t.”

You just stared at him, tears threatening to leave your eyes; he had never raised his voice at you in a heated moment, and it hurt like hell. You definitely should have stayed outside. 

He walked towards the door and stepped out of the room without uttering another word, leaving you alone to deal with your own feelings. 

As soon as the door was closed, you started crying. It was your own fault, really; you could always read him like a book, even today, and you knew better than to disturb him when you weren’t supposed to, but today for some reason you just couldn't keep your mouth shut. Idiot.

You tried to calm yourself down; the last thing Lando needed was to see you cry on top of his result, but it was harder than you expected. This being the first time an argument got so out of hand made you feel absolutely terrible, especially because it was your fault. Deep down, you knew he didn’t mean it, you knew it was his feelings talking, but that didn’t make it any less painful.

A few minutes went by and you could still hear the cars out on track, the mumbling of the team, and people constantly working out there, so you tried to use that as a distraction. Anything to take your mind off what just happened. 

Unfortunately, it didn’t help, but at least you ran out of tears, and now you were just staring at a blank wall, thinking how you could begin to apologise for earlier, if he would even give you the chance to. 

Truth is, you weren’t sure if bringing it up again would be a good idea; you wanted to apologise for disrupting his cooldown moment, but what if hearing that made him mad again? Or worse, what if you didn’t apologise and made the situation even bigger? Your spiralling made you lose track of time, and a knock on the door pulled you out of your thoughts. 

“The car is about to leave, Y/N, they are waiting for you,” you heard someone say on the other side of the door. You were at least hoping Lando would come and get you once it was time to go back to the hotel, but he didn’t.

“Thanks, I will be there in a minute,” you replied, grabbing your things and Lando’s before sprinting outside. 

The car ride was hell. Lando didn’t look at you the entire time; he was just staring at his phone, texting who knows who, his face as neutral as ever. It felt longer than it actually was, and when you finally got there, he just stepped out of the car and didn’t look back. You let out a sigh and followed him, leaving a prudent distance between the two of you. 

Once you were in the hotel room, you both started to get ready for bed, like you usually did, except this time, you didn’t acknowledge each other. 

That was until you were already on your side of the bed and he came out of the bathroom, taking the spot next to you and burying his face on his phone again. The entire time you were building up the courage to say something, anything, now that you decided that apologising was the right thing to do.

“Lando?” You called for him, but again, he just hummed in response. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. You were right, I shouldn’t have said anything, and I should have respected that you just wanted to be alone.”

That’s when it hit him. How could he get so mad at you for trying to make him feel better? 

He dropped his phone and turned to face you, and noticing your sad expression and teary eyes broke him. His eyes softened as guilt washed over him. Why were you apologising when he was the one who reacted like that? But as soon as you looked down at your hands to avoid eye contact and tears started falling down your face again, he felt even worse. 

“Y/N… Baby, I’m so sorry.” He got closer to you, softly taking your cheeks in his hands to get you to look at him. “Please don’t cry, I’m sorry I acted like a dick and raised my voice at you,” he stared, wiping your tears away, carefully thinking about what else he could say. 

You, on the other hand, didn’t know how to react. Your plan was to apologise and hopefully move on, but now that he was apologising, you didn’t know what to say; you didn’t want him to feel guilty, even though it was his fault you were in that position right now. If only he took a different approach. 

“It wasn’t your fault, okay? You were just trying to help, and I should have appreciated that, you know that I do, I just... I don’t know, there is no excuse for what I did.” But you were still silent and trying to avoid eye contact. “Baby, say something.” 

“Lando, you yelled at me.” You finally replied, your voice a bit muffled by your tears.

“I know, I shouldn’t have done that, and I promise I’ll never do it again.”

After a minute of silence, you just nodded, which made him let out a sigh of relief. “Okay.”

“Okay? I’m sorry, my love.” He pulled you into a hug, your head on his chest as he placed a soft kiss on your head. “I know I was a dick, and I really wish I was nicer about it.”

“It’s okay, I get it; you were frustrated with your result, and I should’ve known better than to interfere with what you were feeling.”

“No, it’s not okay. I was frustrated, but I shouldn’t have taken it out on you.” Lando was rubbing your back softly, trying to bring you the comfort you tried to give him earlier. “I love you, and I can’t describe how much I appreciate everything you do for me; I know having to deal with my shit is not easy, so thank you.”

“It’s fine, I mean it.” You looked up at him, locking eyes finally in the entire day. “Just... don’t push me away, okay? And if you do need to be alone, just say it, and I promise I will listen next time.”

“Okay, sounds good.”

He gently placed a hand on your check, rubbing small circles before leaning in for a kiss, one both of you much needed. And with one final ‘I love you’, you feel asleep in his arms.

[creativepromptsforwriting]

Drabble List #11

75 prompts to write drabbles or longer stories.

"Oh no, that's heartbreaking."

"Finders keepers, losers weepers."

"I can't believe you've done this."

"You're a little to late for that."

"That's simply rock 'n' roll, baby."

"Give me ice cream. Now!"

"And this is how you do it."

"Such a sad thing to say."

"To be honest, I really don't care."

"It wasn't supposed to end like this."

"I went willingly."

"Why don't I believe you?"

"I want us to have a good relationship."

"I fear absolutely nothing."

"Want a massage?"

"It's a new law, look it up."

"Can you walk a bit faster maybe?"

"I don't know why yet."

"Don't say another word."

"That's something to celebrate!"

"Apologize and we're even."

"I hate that sound."

"This is too small."

"Get used to it."

"Oh, definitely not!"

"I am very disappointed right now."

"This is not practical at all."

"I will not take the blame for this."

"Well, tough luck, my friend."

"That's so tragic."

"No, don't say it, I want to guess!"

"I'm working on myself now."

"Can you please stop thinking so loud?"

"This is stressing me out so much."

"You can't let them get away with that."

"Are you finished, so you'll listen to me?"

"Wow, that's expensive!"

"No, not on my watch."

"That's a new low for you."

"I think, I have always been in love with you."

"You are actually scary."

"That cat hates me!"

"Please, stop looking like you want to kill me."

"Not surprised, but still disappointed."

"You're in for a big surprise."

"And I'm here to save you."

"What a failure."

"Explosive news."

"I need some assistance here."

"Aren't you happy to see me?"

"This is so embarrassing!"

"Does it start with the letter A?"

"Not the right place, not the right time."

"I'm a wonderful human being."

"That's not very nice."

"Are you thinking what I'm thinking?"

"I don't even wanna know what you're thinking."

"It's too quiet here..."

"Totally on-brand for me."

"I fail to see how that is my problem."

"Well, I will make it your problem."

"Did you hear a word I said?"

"It's very fashionable."

"What doesn't kill me still hurts."

"Fucked around, found out."

"That's illegal."

"I hope you have insurance."

"Seems like you have to sleep here tonight."

"Could be better, but could also be worse."

"Tell me one thing that's true."

"I'm sick of all the lies."

"No response, as always."

"Do you think that's funny?"

"The train already left."

"Sign your name here. Now."

Drabble Masterlist

Have fun creating and writing!

If you like my blog and want to support me, you can buy me a coffee or become a member! And check out my Instagram! 🥰

[fairyhaos]

◈ love of my life // yoon jeonghan

jeonghan x gn!reader, 2k+ words

tags: technically requested by lots of people bc everyone wants jeonghan fluff, childhood friends to lovers, fluff, crack, mutual pining, almost-confessions

warnings: light swearing

summary: in which your relationship with jeonghan isn't exactly platonic and isn't exactly romantic... but rather, it's a secret third thing.

It has to be at least two in the morning when Jeonghan's ringtone blares throughout his bedroom, and he rolls over with a groan, grappling blindly at his nightstand before finding his phone and pressing it against his cheek. 

“Who is this and what do you want?”

“Jeonghan, let's go on a date.”

He recognises your voice in an instant, even in his half-asleep state, and he huffs a laugh, flopping back against the pillows and rubbing his eyes. 

“Gee, at least ask me when it's not ass o'clock in the morning, won't you?”

“No, no, this only works if you get up right now,” you say. “Come on, Jeonghan, just go on a date with me. Right at this very moment.”

Jeonghan rubs his eyes, before taking his phone away from his cheek and peering at the screen so he can read the time. “See, you’re not presenting a very good argument,” he says, once he’s put the phone against his ear again. It’s almost three in the morning. What are you thinking? “I don’t wanna date you that much.”

You make a sad sound on the other end of the phone. “What will it take to get you out of the house?”

“Wire me an obscene amount of money right now and I’ll think about it.”

There’s a pause.

“No. Best I can offer is a pretty please.”

Jeonghan can’t help smiling at your dry tone, and he rubs his eyes once again with a yawn. “Fine. I guess I can’t expect anything better from you, anyway.” He can almost see you biting your lip in annoyance, wanting to quip something witty back at him but also wanting to keep quiet so he’ll actually come. 

“You know me so well.”

“Yes I do,” Jeonghan teases, and groggily hauls himself out of bed. “I’ll be ready in ten. Where do you want me to go?”

“Don’t worry, princess, I’ll pick you up,” you say, suddenly sounding excited. “Just wait for me and I’ll come over to take you out.”

Jeonghan raises an eyebrow. “Is that a threat?”

You laugh, bright and happy, like it’s not four in the morning and you’ve asked your best friend to go on a date with you. Jeonghan can’t help but smile again, even as he grapples blindly through his dark room to find some clothes.

“Don’t worry. It’s a promise.”

───────────── 🌘

Jeonghan is, admittedly, more than a little confused when you just take him to the nearest playground.

Sure, maybe this entire thing is weird—you calling him up during ridiculous hours of the morning to “go on a date” is definitely not something you’ve done before—but that’s just the kind of friendship he and you have. 

It’s like how, last year, he spent an entire month calling you increasingly ridiculous pet names, ranging from “beloved” to “honey butter snuggles bunny bear”, and purposefully took you out to public cafes and restaurants to test them out for everyone to see and hear, preventing you from punching him as hard as he probably deserved. 

So this is, like, nothing new. Just a funny and silly thing the two of you do, because you've known each other for the whole of your lives, and when it comes to the way your relationship works, the lines separating “platonic” and “romantic” have always been curiously nonexistent. 

It doesn’t mean anything. It’s never meant to mean anything.

But sometimes, sometimes, it feels like it should.

“I think I’m going to end up alone forever,” you say abruptly, and Jeonghan looks over at you in surprise. You’re sitting on the swings next to him, dragging yourself back and forth as you look up at the sky. There’s nothing to see up there, with the clouds obscuring any moonlight, so it's obvious that you're just looking away so he can't see your face. 

It's so quiet; Jeonghan didn't realise that the world could be this quiet at 2 in the morning, and it makes your words echo extra loud into the abyss, before they're swallowed by the darkness. 

Jeonghan shrugs. “Maybe you will.”

Instantly, you're leaning over to swat him on the arm, and he laughs. 

“Asshole,” you say, but there's no venom in your voice, even as you level him with a glare. “You're really no help. I'm trying to unload all my deepest fears for you, here, practically begging you to reassure me, and yet all you can do is be mean.”

“You said one thing,” Jeonghan points out. “I don't think that counts as unloading all your deepest fears.”

“Yeah, well, maybe it's my only deepest fear.”

“Why are you unloading your deepest fear on me?” Jeonghan asks, kicking his legs out in front of him. “We're on a date. Our first date, mind you, so this hardly seems appropriate.”

“Asshole,” you say again, but like before, the word has no bite. You glance over at him, before realising that he's looking at you, and then quickly raise your gaze to the sky. “I'm being serious about this, you know.”

Jeonghan says nothing for a long moment. Watches the way the pale light from a nearby lamppost gives you an unearthly, almost otherworldly glow. 

“I'm being serious too,” he decides to say, looking up at the cloudy sky with you. “You shouldn't be saying that stuff on a first date. Kinda makes it sound like you don't think things will work out between us, you know?”

You huff a confused laugh, looking over at him again. “Jeonghan, wha—?”

“And maybe you will end up alone,” he carries on, thoughtfully, as if he's talking to himself, forgetting that you're sitting there too. “But maybe you won't. I think you probably won't. And even if you do, it's fine, because I'll still be with you.”

It's a painfully vulnerable thing to say, made doubly so by the quietness of the night. Like a love confession, almost. Except it's not, because he's not in love with you. 

He isn't. 

“That's really sweet,” you say, almost begrudgingly, as if it pains you to admit that Jeonghan actually said something nice, and he laughs. “Though wrong. If you’re with me, then I'm not alone, am I?”

“Oh, I see. When you said alone, you meant in general. I thought you meant, like, romantically.”

“Well, maybe. But maybe I also meant overall,” you shrug. “I didn't think you'd want to spend the rest of your life with me.”

Jeonghan swallows, tilts back on the swings, head still raised to look at the sky. “I want to spend every life with you.”

You look away from the sky at his words, turning to face him in surprise. The echoes of what he’d just said were already fading away, muffled and pressed into the velvet dark of the night, but the surprisingly soft air that followed in its wake still remained.

 Now, he's the one avoiding your gaze, keeping his eyes firmly locked on the shapeless, misty blur of clouds above him so he doesn’t have to look at you. Out of the corner of his eye, he can see you tilt your head, and smile. 

“Oh, look at you, you sap,” you say, bright and teasing. “Face it, you like being with me. Oh! I bet you're in love with me, seeing as how you agreed to date me and everything! Isn't that right, Jeonghan? You love me.”

Jeonghan pulls a face, and you burst into laughter, so ridiculously loud and happy even though it's two in the morning and the whole playground is silent, the sound of your happiness ringing against the cool air of the night. He can't help but look at you then, exasperated and fond, shaking his head as you grip the swing chains and sway back and forth, still giggling to yourself. 

He sniffs, feigning annoyance as he leans to the side, making a dramatic show of pulling his swing away from you. 

“This isn't a real date. I could never date you.” He scrunches his face in faux disgust for good measure, and you laugh again, rolling your eyes. 

“Yeah, yeah, whatever. And yet you still came out when I called, didn't you?” you tease, smiling widely, and Jeonghan has to admit that you're right. He's here because you asked him to be here. He’s here for you.

Hm. This was getting weirdly soul-baringly truthful for what he’d thought would be a silly little hangout in the middle of the night.

“Next time you call me at 2am, I’m blocking you forever,” he says dryly, giving you an exaggerated look of disdain just so he can revel in the laugh that it pulls out of you.

“No you won’t,” you say cheerily. “Because you looove me.”

“Um, lies.”

“No lies. You literally love me so much.”

“I don’t.”

“You do.”

“No, I don’t.”

“You do. You do, you do, you do, you’re actually genuinely in love with me and there’s nothing you can do to deny it, because it’s so obvious that I’m literally the love of your l—”

Jeonghan makes a clicking sound with his tongue and leans over to shove your arm, causing you to swing to the side as you cackle with delight at his reaction. He glares at you, again, sighing with exasperation as you continue to laugh.

“Yes, yes, I love you, just as much as you love me. Now if we’re not actually doing anything of importance, then can I go home?”

“What?” you say indignantly. “Of course not! If I can’t sleep, then that means you’re not allowed to sleep either.”

“I knew it. You called me out here because you couldn’t fall asleep.”

“Duh. Now come and push my swing, will you?”

Jeonghan rolls his eyes and stands up from his swing, groaning and holding his knees like he’s some kind of grumpy grandpa. You laugh, mocking him for his bad joints as he walks around to stand behind you, and he snarks back something ridiculously funny and rippling with light, twisting through the cool air.

And then his hand presses against the small of your back, soft and yet sure, and suddenly all you can focus on is that gentle, feathery point of contact that connects you to him.

Your laughter subsides as he begins to gently push your swing, and you move up, and down, and up, and down, the fleeting warmth of his hand an intermittent pressure against your back. He doesn’t say a word. Everything is quiet, in your head. Like his touch alone could silence any worries that still floated around in your brain.

It’s one of the things you adore most about Jeonghan. He makes you feel safe.

“For the record, by the way,” you say, voice quiet, “I really do love you.”

There’s no noise but the metallic creak of the swing, sounding weirdly small in the yawning abyss of the dark. Jeonghan’s hand is still steady as he pushes you, again and again.

“As a friend?” he asks, eventually.

You can’t see him, and maybe that’s for the best. His voice is tinged with a colour, an emotion, that you can’t quite name, warm and cool and fleeting and present all at once.

Yet more silence greets his words. You continue swinging, and he continues helping.

It’s hard to know what he means by that. As a friend, in a hopeful way? As a friend, in a meaningful way? Or as a friend, in a way that could maybe, maybe, signal that he thinks, or wishes, that you mean... something else.

More.

These things are difficult to tell, when it comes to Jeonghan. Who wears his heart on his sleeve and yet also hides it away where no one can see.

“Yeah,” you say, after it has been far too long since he’d asked, but it’s clear that you were both waiting for your answer anyway. The word leaves you as a sigh, threadbare and thin. “As a friend.”

Jeonghan huffs a soft laugh. Maybe because he believes you, or maybe because he doesn’t. You’re not too sure.

“Okay,” he murmurs, pale as moonlight. “In which case, I love you too.”

fics tags: @jeonginssa @weird-bookworm @minhui896 @slytherinshua @haowrld @belladaises @moonlitskiiies @mirxzii @zozojella @kawennote09 @a-wandering-stay @abibliolife @doublasting @wonranghaeee @icyminghao @sweet-like-caramel @your-yxnnie @odxrilove @kyeomyun @crackedpumpkin @jeonride @kellesvt @eightlightstar @onlyyjeonghan @aaniag @starshuas @raevyng @isabellah29 @hrts4hanniehae @mcu-incorrect @dokyeomkyeom @suraandsugar @haodore @tulsa24 @melodicrabbit

[teddybeartoji]

18+ mdni; gn!reader

with a hand on the back of your head and another holding your throat, nanami curses under his breath, the sight of you gagging around his cock so filthy that the usually composed man has his knees threatening to buckle from underneath him. 

sweat trickles from the side of his face and there’s a deep shade of blush spread across his nose and cheeks, hiding the freckles you love so much. even the tips of his ears burn, the pleasure blooming everywhere under his skin as he rocks his hips against your face. the first buttons of his dress shirt are undone, a few hickeys already starting to darken on his skin from you nipping at him before dropping to your knees. he’s been working so very hard, and you just want him to let off a little steam – he just needs a bit of a push sometimes. 

so with you sat on his lap, sucking on his earlobe while pleading for him to take a break, it was impossible for him to say no. how could he when he’s got an angel in his arms, playing with his hair and kissing his neck ever so sweetly – he’s a weaker man than he thinks. 

when you slithered down between his thighs and stared up at him with big, hungry eyes, he found himself loosening his tie, his mind already beginning to cloud with the nastiest thoughts. 

ghosting your fingers over the growing bulge in his slacks, you rested your head against his thigh with a mischievous smile etched onto your lips. “c’mon, ken… i want to make you feel good.”

your words come out as a purr, as a siren’s call – you always have been a little tease, always the one to make him break and crumble. 

so here he finds himself now – slacks pooling around his ankles and the hem of his shirt caught between his teeth, trying his utmost best not to fill your mouth with cum after the first ten minutes like some damn teenager. his hair is a fucking mess, dusty blonde strands falling over his forehead no matter how many times he tries to push them back. he’s given up on it now, realizing that there are better things to be doing with his hands – the one on the back of your head, protects you from knocking against the wooden cupboard while the other rests on your neck, marveling the way his cock slides up and down your throat. 

it’s mesmerizing, the feeling of the bulge under the palm of his shaky hand. he’s in there, filling you up like nothing else and it’s the hottest fucking thing in the world. 

his pace is slow and steady, every roll of his hips has your nose nuzzling into his pubes, your chin pressing against his heavy balls. drool trickles from the corners of your mouth and it’s a sight to behold – it dribbles all the way down onto your thighs and from there on onto the floor and nanami can’t help but feel the coil in his stomach tighten faster than ever. you’re the only one that makes him feel like this, who manages to mold him to your own liking all while being down on your knees. 

the tip of your tongue tickles his balls and the growl he lets out makes you clench your thighs together. his shirt falls from between his teeth and he rushes to undo the rest of the buttons, desperate to get the material off of him, so he can give you his full attention once more. it’s exciting to see him this needy. 

you try to look up at him with him still down your throat and as a reward, he moves to stroke your cheek with his thumb. “you’re– you’re doing so good for me, darling.” 

his voice is raspier than ever and the praise that tumbles from his bitten lips has you moaning around his cock. his vision goes blurry for a moment as the pleasure overwhelms his senses. you’re something else. 

you’re fucking perfect. 

the ache in your knees fades in your mind as you get to watch him unravel above you. his strokes become more languid; he pulls out only a little before pushing back in, his tip reaching deeper and deeper with every thrust he makes. he wants to stay inside you, he wants to stay there forever. 

squirming below him, you screw your eyes shut and try to focus on your breathing – but as he stays slotted deep down your throat, it’s getting harder and harder and you can’t hold back the few tears that have been brimming at your lashline.

“f–fuck, i’m sorry, sweetheart… i– “

he feels you struggling, but doesn’t pull out even an inch, only grinding his hips into your face as if he was fucking your tight little hole instead. you claw at the backs of his thighs, your nails marking up his sensitive skin as you gag around him. but nanami’s mindful not to go too far, to make sure that he wouldn’t miss the moment your scratching should turn into tapping instead. as much as he’s enjoying himself, he’d rather die than to hurt you.

he waits for your signal but when it doesn’t come, he presses himself even further down your throat, moaning loudly when you gag around him. his blonde pubes stick to your skin, your spit acting as glue between you. 

your mouth is so fucking warm and tight and, fuck– the obscene sounds that fill his ears are making him lose his mind. you feel divine and it has him wondering what ever did he do to deserve a lover like you. 

all it takes is two pats against his thighs and he’s pulling away, his eyes locked onto your face as you gasp for air. crystalline droplets brim in the corners of your eyes and run over the apples of your cheeks, leaving behind salty remainders of your hard work. your lips are swollen and covered in a mixture of his precum and your own spit. trying to catch your breath, you take a moment before looking back up at him. 

the way his lips part in a silent groan the second you make eye-contact, his chest rising and falling as he strokes his fat cock right in front of your face. there’s still a strand of spit connecting the two of you, from your lips to his tip, and nanami wants to hate how big of an effect such a small thing can have on him. it’s romantic. 

you look ruined. 

he thinks you look absolutely fucking beautiful.

leaning down, he presses a fiery kiss to your lips as a thank you, as another form of praise. he loves the way you taste and they way you feel against him. 

you breathe into his mouth. “more…” 

nanami squeezes his fist around his base, another groan falling from him as he pulls away from you. the grin on your face, the hearts in your eyes and the love pooling on your tongue are more than enough to have him taking in a sharp intake of air – you reach out to him, gentle fingers wrapping around his way bigger ones as you guide him back to your mouth. your heavenly lips. 

as embarrassing as it is, it only takes another few minutes for him to cum down your throat with a loud, deep groan. he holds your neck just as before, feeling the way his own cock twitches inside of you as he gives you his all. 

there’s so much of it that despite you swallowing around him a couple of times, it still pours out from the corners of your mouth, turning you into an even bigger mess than before. but it’s not like you mind – this is exactly what you wanted in the first place. he’s panting like a dog above you, face red as a tomato as he bucks his hips into your mouth one last time. 

the sound that leaves his lips as he finally pulls out resembles a whimper and he lets out a sheepish chuckle, a bit flustered that you managed to pull that out of him. but then again…

it is you. 

his beloved, his love – the one who knows him the best, the one who knows what he needs without ever having to ask. you read him like an open book and he couldn't be more grateful. you're more than he could've asked for. hoped for.

and he loves you.

[luvlucia]

shhh - enhypen hyung line

summary: enhypen-hyung-line x reader - when enhypen tells you to quiet down during sex || warnings: intercourse, reader gets insecure, no explicit mentions of protection || genre: smut, fluff, angst, established relationship || word count: approximately 1.5k || a/n: see the request here!

lee heeseung 이희승

You were on all fours, your face smushed against his pillow as he fucked you from behind. The members weren't home but they would be coming home any minute now.

"Shhh, you're being too loud, babe. They could come home any minute now and you don't want them to know we're doing this, do you?" He says in a soft voice as he grips your hips harder.

"Sorry..." You say as you bite your lip, holding back from whatever sounds your body wants you to make.

The next time you had sex, it was late and night and the both of you were sleepy so he didn't think much of you being awfully quiet since he figured it was just because you were tired.

When you were quieter than usual the time after that, he had to say something.

"Why are you being so quiet?" He bluntly asked as you sat on his lap, his head resting against his headboard as he moved your hips against him, not stopping.

"I don't want to be too loud..." You respond, chest heaving.

"Oh, come on. Don't be like that." Heeseung said as he lifted his hips, his tip hitting you deeply, causing you to let out a particularly loud moan. "See, that's what I like to hear." He told you, wanting to make you feel better.

You gripped his shoulder, biting your lip. Heeseung moved a hand up to your face, gently gripping your jaw, not allowing you to close your mouth as he lifted his hips again, making you let out another loud moan.

"Come on. Don't be shy, pretty." He said.

park jongseong 박종성

Jay had told you to quiet down a little one day during sex because it was late at night and the other members were sleeping. He didn't have any ill intentions with it, he simply didn't want to wake the others up. Your brain immediately had you thinking the worst about it and you couldn't seem to let it go.

The next few times the two of you fucked, you were really quiet, almost silent at times, whether you had to be or not. Jay didn't say anything at first but when the two of you were at your place, the house was completely empty as you bounced on his lap, his hands gripping onto your hips as you stabilized yourself using the couch cushion behind him, meanwhile being mostly quiet, he couldn't take it anymore.

He held you down and stopped any type of movement happening between the two of you. You whined at the loss of contact as you looked at him.

"What's wrong?" You ask.

"I should be asking you that." Jay said. "What's been up with you lately? Have I been doing something wrong? Have I not been making you feel good?" He then rambled, really concerned about this whole thing.

"What? Of course, you make me feel good." You retort, and that was the truth.

"Then why have you been so quiet?" Jay asked.

You're silent for a few moments, "I just... I know I can be a little loud sometimes and can be a little... annoying." You shrug a little.

His gaze softens as his hands come up to your waist, softly squeezing you comfortingly, "Baby, you don't have to always be quiet. I love hearing you. It's never annoying." He told you.

"It's just... you told me to quiet down one day, so I thought you didn't like it." You explain.

"Sweetheart, I love it so much. I want to hear from you always but there are some situations where we have to be a little quieter. Not just you, the both of us. That doesn't mean I don't wish I could hear you all the time." Jay says before leaning in and pecking your lips. "Now come on, don't hold back." He says as his hands go back down to your hips and he slowly starts to move you up and down on his cock.

sim jaeyun 심재윤

Jake wasn't exactly the quiet type during sex. He wasn't ashamed to be loud. The thing was, in this situation, the two of you had to be quiet. The two of you were hanging out with the members when one thing led to another and Jake and you were sneaking away to the bathroom to release whatever sexual tension that'd built up with you sitting on his lap on the couch as everyone watched a movie together.

He had you bent over the sink counter as he fucked you from behind. He bit down on his lower lip as he did his best to not make a sound. It was hard enough for him to not go so hard as to not have your bodies make too much noise.

You were doing fine with being quiet as well. That was until he started to hit a certain spot. You found yourself moaning out loudly in pleasure.

Jake immediately clasped his hand over your mouth as he continued to fuck into you.

"Shhhh. Being too loud, princess." He breathed out.

Your cheeks flush in embarrassment as you bite down harshly on your lip and make sure to barely make a sound the rest of the time.

The next time the two of you fucked, the dorm was completely empty besides the two of you so you were free to make as much noise as you wanted. You weren't though, you were barely making a peep which was unlike you.

You were lying on your back as Jake lay over you, his body weight pressing against you as he thrust into you. When he noticed you were being unusually quiet, his movement faltered, slowing down as he cupped your face with his rough hand.

"Do you not feel good, baby?" He softly asked, the room full of your breathy pants.

"I do." You reassured him.

"Then what's wrong? Why are you being so quiet?" Jake questioned further, his hips halting.

"I... I just didn't want to be too loud." You tell him.

Jake immediately knew why you were saying that and he found himself letting out a sigh. "Princess... you can be as loud as you want. I don't want you to be quiet. I just said that the other day because the members were in the dorm. You know I love your pretty noises." He softly says, wanting to make you feel better.

"You sure?" You ask as you look up at him.

"I'm positive. It's not like I'm the quietest either." Jake teased, lightening the mood.

"That's true." You giggled.

"Now, come on. Make as much noise as you want." He said before leaning down and kissing you, his hips slowly started to move against you again.

park sunghoon 박성훈

Sunghoon wasn't exactly the loud type during sex, mostly staying quiet except for when he's dirty talking and letting out occasional grunts and groans. So, you were already a little insecure about being loud but Sunghoon had never said anything before so you never thought much of it.

That was until one day, you were both in the shower together after you spent the night at the dorm. It had started off as an innocent chaste shower together. That was until you'd bent down to wash your legs and suddenly, your chest was pressed against the slippery shower wall as Sunghoon held you close and fucked into you from behind.

It felt particularly good and you were being so loud. Sunghoon knew the shower water along with the fan would block some of the noise but when he heard the sounds of the member's voices outside of the bathroom, he covered your mouth.

"Shhh, quiet down a little." Sunghoon said and suddenly, you were feeling completely self-conscious.

The next time the two of you were having sex, Sunghoon noticed your quietness right away. It didn't take him long at all. He'd grown so used to hearing your pretty sounds as he made you feel good, when you weren't being your loud self, he had a problem.

"You mad at me, doll?" He asked as he continued to fuck you, looking down at you, some of his hair sticking to his slightly sweaty forehead.

"N-no. Why?" You managed to mutter out.

"Then, why are you being so quiet?" He questioned.

"I don't want to be too loud." You explained. "The members are sleeping."

"Fine, but you don't have to be practically silent." He said firmly.

"I thought you'd want me to be that quiet." You respond, not even realizing the attitude in your tone.

Sunghoon was slightly amused, "I don't want you to be quiet. I never want you to be. Sometimes, you just have to be." Sunghoon says. "Quiet doesn't mean silent, though, doll." He adds.

Before you even had a chance to respond, he was picking up his speed as he leaned down and kissed your neck. He then finally heard the sound of your quiet moans and sighs, making him smile against your neck as he continued what he was doing.

ᥫ᭡ link to my masterlist

[littlelamy]

i luv shopaholic reader🛍️how about when she comes back him from a long day of shopping she makes rafe sit down and look at everything she got bonus if barry happens to be there😭

a/n: i am happy you love her! i was so scared to write out the ask so i feel so much better know so many people like shopaholic reader! 😝thank you for sending a request 🤍

you push open the door with a grin, arms heavy with bags from your long day out. the living room lights cast a warm glow, and you spot rafe lounging on the couch, his long legs stretched out, one arm lazily draped over the backrest. barry is there too, slouched next to him, probably running his mouth as usual.

rafe’s eyes land on you immediately, that familiar smirk playing on his lips. "well, well, look who’s back," he drawls, glancing at the mountain of bags in your hands. "how much damage did you do today?"

you step into the room, dropping your bags with a dramatic sigh. "enough," you tease, leaning down to start rummaging through your purchases. "and now you get to sit here and admire all the amazing things i got."

barry chuckles from the other side of the couch. "oh, this should be good. let’s see what you got for pretty boy over here."

rafe rolls his eyes, shifting in his seat. "barry, shut up."

you pull out the first item, a sleek black dress that you’re particularly excited about, holding it up against your body and giving a little twirl. "so… what do you think? date night material?"

rafe’s gaze darkens, his eyes raking over you slowly. "definitely. though i’d prefer if you weren’t wearing anything at all."

you toss the dress at him, heat creeping up your cheeks. "behave."

rafe catches the dress, his smirk widening as he leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees. "come here and i might."

barry snickers. "damn, she’s got you real bad, huh?"

ignoring barry, you pull out a pair of shoes next. "these? i bought just because i knew they’d drive you crazy."

rafe’s eyes flick down to the strappy heels, and you can see the flicker of approval in his gaze. "put ‘em on."

"you wish." you flash him a playful smile, slipping the heels back into the box. "maybe if you’re good."

barry throws his head back, laughing. "this is better than i thought. i’m staying."

rafe’s eyes narrow at barry, but he turns his attention back to you, a more dangerous edge to his voice. "you really gonna make me sit here and watch you play dress-up all night, or are you gonna come over here and give me a real show?"

you walk closer, your eyes locking with his, the tension crackling between you. "a real show, huh?" you lean down just enough so that your lips are inches from his. "what do i get out of it?"

rafe’s hand moves to your waist, pulling you the rest of the way until you're sitting in his lap. "you’ll get more than you can handle."

barry rolls his eyes. "okay, i’m outta here before it gets x-rated."

you laugh, but the sound fades as rafe's hand slides up your thigh, his lips brushing against your ear. "now, show me what else you bought, or i’ll lose interest real fast."

you smirk, giving him a teasing look. "oh, i don’t think you’re gonna lose interest anytime soon."

taglist (if you want to be added comment below): princessslutt averyoceanblvd iknowthatsrightbih starkeysprincess sixrosberg anamiad00msday

[tinystepsforward]

autocrattic (more matt shenanigans, not tumblr this time)

I am almost definitely not the right person for this writeup, but I'm closer than most people on here, so here goes! This is all open-source tech drama, and I take my time laying out the context, but the short version is: Matt tried to extort another company, who immediately posted receipts, and now he's refusing to log off again. The long version is... long.

If you don't need software context, scroll down/find the "ok tony that's enough. tell me what's actually happening" heading, or just go read the pink sections. Or look at this PDF.

the background

So. Matt's original Good Idea was starting WordPress with fellow developer Mike Little in 2003, which is free and open-source software (FOSS) that was originally just for blogging, but now powers lots of websites that do other things. In particular, Automattic acquired WooCommerce a long time ago, which is free online store software you can run on WordPress.

FOSS is... interesting. It's a world that ultimately is powered by people who believe deeply that information and resources should be free, but often have massive blind spots (for example, Wikipedia's consistently had issues with bias, since no amount of "anyone can edit" will overcome systemic bias in terms of who has time to edit or is not going to be driven away by the existing contributor culture). As with anything else that people spend thousands of hours doing online, there's drama. As with anything else that's technically free but can be monetized, there are:

Heaps of companies and solo developers who profit off WordPress themes, plugins, hosting, and other services;

Conflicts between volunteer contributors and for-profit contributors;

Annoying founders who get way too much credit for everything the project has become.

the WordPress ecosystem

A project as heavily used as WordPress (some double-digit percentage of the Internet uses WP. I refuse to believe it's the 43% that Matt claims it is, but it's a pretty large chunk) can't survive just on the spare hours of volunteers, especially in an increasingly monetised world where its users demand functional software, are less and less tech or FOSS literate, and its contributors have no fucking time to build things for that userbase.

Matt runs Automattic, which is a privately-traded, for-profit company. The free software is run by the WordPress Foundation, which is technically completely separate (wordpress.org). The main products Automattic offers are WordPress-related: WordPress.com, a host which was designed to be beginner-friendly; Jetpack, a suite of plugins which extend WordPress in a whole bunch of ways that may or may not make sense as one big product; WooCommerce, which I've already mentioned. There's also WordPress VIP, which is the fancy bespoke five-digit-plus option for enterprise customers. And there's Tumblr, if Matt ever succeeds in putting it on WordPress. (Every Tumblr or WordPress dev I know thinks that's fucking ridiculous and impossible. Automattic's hiring for it anyway.)

Automattic devotes a chunk of its employees toward developing Core, which is what people in the WordPress space call WordPress.org, the free software. This is part of an initiative called Five for the Future — 5% of your company's profits off WordPress should go back into making the project better. Many other companies don't do this.

There are lots of other companies in the space. GoDaddy, for example, barely gives back in any way (and also sucks). WP Engine is the company this drama is about. They don't really contribute to Core. They offer relatively expensive WordPress hosting, as well as providing a series of other WordPress-related products like LocalWP (local site development software), Advanced Custom Fields (the easiest way to set up advanced taxonomies and other fields when making new types of posts. If you don't know what this means don't worry about it), etc.

Anyway. Lots of strong personalities. Lots of for-profit companies. Lots of them getting invested in, or bought by, private equity firms.

Matt being Matt, tech being tech

As was said repeatedly when Matt was flipping out about Tumblr, all of the stuff happening at Automattic is pretty normal tech company behaviour. Shit gets worse. People get less for their money. WordPress.com used to be a really good place for people starting out with a website who didn't need "real" WordPress — for $48 a year on the Personal plan, you had really limited features (no plugins or other customisable extensions), but you had a simple website with good SEO that was pretty secure, relatively easy to use, and 24-hour access to Happiness Engineers (HEs for short. Bad job title. This was my job) who could walk you through everything no matter how bad at tech you were. Then Personal plan users got moved from chat to emails only. Emails started being responded to by contractors who didn't know as much as HEs did and certainly didn't get paid half as well. Then came AI, and the mandate for HEs to try to upsell everyone things they didn't necessarily need. (This is the point at which I quit.)

But as was said then as well, most tech CEOs don't publicly get into this kind of shitfight with their users. They're horrid tyrants, but they don't do it this publicly.

ok tony that's enough. tell me what's actually happening

WordCamp US, one of the biggest WordPress industry events of the year, is the backdrop for all this. It just finished.

There are.... a lot of posts by Matt across multiple platforms because, as always, he can't log off. But here's the broad strokes.

Sep 17

Matt publishes a wanky blog post about companies that profit off open source without giving back. It targets a specific company, WP Engine.

Compare the Five For the Future pages from Automattic and WP Engine, two companies that are roughly the same size with revenue in the ballpark of half a billion. These pledges are just a proxy and aren’t perfectly accurate, but as I write this, Automattic has 3,786 hours per week (not even counting me!), and WP Engine has 47 hours. WP Engine has good people, some of whom are listed on that page, but the company is controlled by Silver Lake, a private equity firm with $102 billion in assets under management. Silver Lake doesn’t give a dang about your Open Source ideals. It just wants a return on capital. So it’s at this point that I ask everyone in the WordPress community to vote with your wallet. Who are you giving your money to? Someone who’s going to nourish the ecosystem, or someone who’s going to frack every bit of value out of it until it withers?

(It's worth noting here that Automattic is funded in part by BlackRock, who Wikipedia calls "the world's largest asset manager".)

Sep 20 (WCUS final day)

WP Engine puts out a blog post detailing their contributions to WordPress.

Matt devotes his keynote/closing speech to slamming WP Engine.

He also implies people inside WP Engine are sending him information.

For the people sending me stuff from inside companies, please do not do it on your work device. Use a personal phone, Signal with disappearing messages, etc. I have a bunch of journalists happy to connect you with as well. #wcus — Twitter I know private equity and investors can be brutal (read the book Barbarians at the Gate). Please let me know if any employee faces firing or retaliation for speaking up about their company's participation (or lack thereof) in WordPress. We'll make sure it's a big public deal and that you get support. — Tumblr

Matt also puts out an offer live at WordCamp US:

“If anyone of you gets in trouble for speaking up in favor of WordPress and/or open source, reach out to me. I’ll do my best to help you find a new job.” — source tweet, RTed by Matt

He also puts up a poll asking the community if WP Engine should be allowed back at WordCamps.

Sep 21

Matt writes a blog post on the WordPress.org blog (the official project blog!): WP Engine is not WordPress.

He opens this blog post by claiming his mom was confused and thought WP Engine was official.

The blog post goes on about how WP Engine disabled post revisions (which is a pretty normal thing to do when you need to free up some resources), therefore being not "real" WordPress. (As I said earlier, WordPress.com disables most features for Personal and Premium plans. Or whatever those plans are called, they've been renamed like 12 times in the last few years. But that's a different complaint.)

Sep 22: More bullshit on Twitter. Matt makes a Reddit post on r/Wordpress about WP Engine that promptly gets deleted. Writeups start to come out:

Search Engine Journal: WordPress Co-Founder Mullenweg Sparks Backlash

TechCrunch: Matt Mullenweg calls WP Engine a ‘cancer to WordPress’ and urges community to switch providers

Sep 23 onward

Okay, time zones mean I can't effectively sequence the rest of this.

Matt defends himself on Reddit, casually mentioning that WP Engine is now suing him.

Also here's a decent writeup from someone involved with the community that may be of interest.

WP Engine drops the full PDF of their cease and desist, which includes screenshots of Matt apparently threatening them via text.

Twitter link | Direct PDF link

This PDF includes some truly fucked texts where Matt appears to be trying to get WP Engine to pay him money unless they want him to tell his audience at WCUS that they're evil.

Matt, after saying he's been sued and can't talk about it, hosts a Twitter Space and talks about it for a couple hours.

He also continues to post on Reddit, Twitter, and on the Core contributor Slack.

Here's a comment where he says WP Engine could have avoided this by paying Automattic 8% of their revenue.

Another, 20 hours ago, where he says he's being downvoted by "trolls, probably WPE employees"

At some point, Matt updates the WordPress Foundation trademark policy. I am 90% sure this was him — it's not legalese and makes no fucking sense to single out WP Engine.

Old text: The abbreviation “WP” is not covered by the WordPress trademarks and you are free to use it in any way you see fit. New text: The abbreviation “WP” is not covered by the WordPress trademarks, but please don’t use it in a way that confuses people. For example, many people think WP Engine is “WordPress Engine” and officially associated with WordPress, which it’s not. They have never once even donated to the WordPress Foundation, despite making billions of revenue on top of WordPress.

Sep 25: Automattic puts up their own legal response.

anyway this fucking sucks

This is bigger than anything Matt's done before. I'm so worried about my friends who're still there. The internal ramifications have... been not great so far, including that Matt's naturally being extra gung-ho about "you're either for me or against me and if you're against me then don't bother working your two weeks".

Despite everything, I like WordPress. (If you dig into this, you'll see plenty of people commenting about blocks or Gutenberg or React other things they hate. Unlike many of the old FOSSheads, I actually also think Gutenberg/the block editor was a good idea, even if it was poorly implemented.)

I think that the original mission — to make it so anyone can spin up a website that's easy enough to use and blog with — is a good thing. I think, despite all the ways being part of FOSS communities since my early teens has led to all kinds of racist, homophobic and sexual harm for me and for many other people, that free and open-source software is important.

So many people were already burning out of the project. Matt has been doing this for so long that those with long memories can recite all the ways he's wrecked shit back a decade or more. Most of us are exhausted and need to make money to live. The world is worse than it ever was.

Social media sucks worse and worse, and this was a world in which people missed old webrings, old blogs, RSS readers, the world where you curated your own whimsical, unpaid corner of the Internet. I started actually actively using my own WordPress blog this year, and I've really enjoyed it.

And people don't want to deal with any of this.

The thing is, Matt's right about one thing: capital is ruining free open-source software. What he's wrong about is everything else: the idea that WordPress.com isn't enshittifying (or confusing) at a much higher rate than WP Engine, the idea that WP Engine or Silver Lake are the only big players in the field, the notion that he's part of the solution and not part of the problem.

But he's started a battle where there are no winners but the lawyers who get paid to duke it out, and all the volunteers who've survived this long in an ecosystem increasingly dominated by big money are giving up and leaving.

Anyway if you got this far, consider donating to someone on gazafunds.com. It'll take much less time than reading this did.

[heich0e]

rintarou's sheets are scratchy.

they're new, and haven't yet gone through the wash enough times to properly soften. they haven't been slept on enough times to be fully broken in. you know he bought them because you always used to tease him about his old sheets: faded with some holes in them—a mismatched fitted sheet and top sheet in two different shades of blue, unbefitting of a grown man making grown man money.

so, he got new ones.

these new sheets are green, in the exact shade you like so much—the one you always point out when the two of you are walking in the park near your office on your lunch break. he sent you a picture of the package when he got them home, fishing for praise you refused to give him for doing the bare minimum. they're nice sheets, though. expensive, organic cotton with a high thread count.

but right now, they're scratchy.

and they're irritating you as you lay tangled up in them, the top sheet wrapped around your waist like a belt and twisted around one of your bare legs. you must have been tossing and turning a lot in your sleep, because when you properly rouse from your slumber to take inventory of your surroundings, the first thing you notice is that you're practically knotted into the stiff, new cotton.

you extract yourself from the blankets, stumbling a little towards the door in a fog, and make your way from rintarou's bedroom in the direction of the kitchen.

"oh," rintarou perks up once you appear around the corner, his eyes bright when they spot you. "you're up."

you shuffle around the kitchen counter towards him, your head heavy and pounding, your mouth dry. you feel nauseated, and without thinking, you slump against him with your forehead pressing into the valley between his shoulder blades. you're confused. you're hungover. but he's warm, and smells like laundry detergent. suddenly you feel a little less queasy.

"what's going on?" you grumble into his back. you peel yourself away from him, blinking slowly, and sweep your gaze around the room to get a better sense of things.

suna holds up a frying pan and a whisk. "i'm cooking!"

you blink again. "okay?"

it's not what you meant when you asked him your first question, but rintarou simply smiles. he has an almost puppy-like personality when he gets like this—you can almost picture ears atop his head and a tail wagging happily as he stares down at you.

"how'd i get here last night?"

rintarou freezes, but only for a moment. he quickly turns his back to you again to continue on whatever misguided culinary adventure he'd been attempting before you woke up. "you were pretty drunk."

"my seniors kept egging me on," you complain, rubbing your forehead as the hazy memory surfaces from the night before. it was a company dinner you couldn't get out of, and it had quickly spiralled out of hand. "i don't even remember leaving."

rintarou laughs a little. but he still won't look at you.

"suna."

he doesn't turn, whisking something you can't identify but that you're almost certain should not be whisked in a bowl in front of him on the counter.

"suna." you repeat yourself again.

suddenly, a wave of nausea overtakes you.

no.

no.

you pat yourself down in search of your phone, but the attempt is useless. you're dressed in one of rintarou's t-shirts and boxers, neither of which come equipped with any pockets, and your phone is nowhere to be found. you whip your head around in search of it, but don't spot it anywhere in the immediate vicinity.

"hey—" rintarou finally looks at you when he senses your alarm, and his tone mirrors your own panic. "don't—!"

you swipe his cellphone off the counter in front of him, using the passcode you'd managed to weasel out of him a few months ago to unlock the device and navigate to his call log. you take off running as you tap your way through the various screens on his phone, but he's quickly in pursuit of you—leaving whatever he'd had on the stove to burn like he world's saddest funeral pyre.

"stop, stop!" rintarou is faster than you are, and has longer legs, but even by the time he catches you, you've already found what you're looking for in his call history. he snakes an arm around your waist, pulling you down onto his sofa with him in the living room, and the two of you land in a tangle of limbs against the cushions, your breathing laboured.

"i didn't make this call, did i?" you ask meekly, pointing at a brief call in the late hours of the night prior that sits at the top of his call history. it's from your number, but you're confident you hadn't been the one to dial.

rintarou pouts a little bit, avoiding your eyes. after a moment he shakes his head. you groan, rolling over on the sofa underneath him and hiding your face in your hands.

"i wasn't even there long, i promise," rintarou says, his voice impossibly close because of the way the two of you are sprawled across the sofa. his breath is warm against the column of your throat when he speaks.

you refuse to look at him.

"i didn't even say anything embarassing."

you still don't budge.

"i made sure to thank your coworkers for calling me to come get you and everything."

your hangover has been overtaken by your own mortification, a horrible heat creeping up your face to accompany the taste of bile in your throat. you've been so, so careful not to let your relationship and your career overlap thus far. so cautious about introducing rintarou into parts of your life that would make it even harder to face if or when the time came that he wasn't around anymore.

"are you embarrassed of me?"

his question makes your chest ache. the way he says it twists the knife.

you lift your face from your hands and peek at him over your shoulder. he's so close that your noses almost brush.

"no." you mean it.

the anxiety in rintarou's gaze eases. he presses closer.

"you sure?"

you narrow your eyes at him. "depends. were you wearing that awful yellow track suit?"

rintarou laughs, all breath, and then dips down to kiss you softly. you want to complain that you haven't even brushed your teeth yet, or that you kind of feel like you might be sick, or that whatever he was trying to cook is on the brink of burning down the building. but you don't. you just let him rest on top of you. you let yourself enjoy it.

when he finally pulls away, rintarou has a somewhat sly smile on his face.

"what, rin?" you ask him gently.

"just wondering if now that i've met your coworkers you're going to let me come visit you at lunch, or if you're still gonna make me hide in the park."

"i like the park," you pout.

because the park is green, the colour you like so much. like rintarou's scratchy bedsheets. and his eyes.

"okay, okay," he laughs, pressing his forehead against yours. "i like the park, too."

[earlysunshines]

we'll be alright, please try again

kim minji x fem!reader ; angst, fluff

synopsis: you and minji break it off, both emotionally and physically, each pushing the other away. but the universe has other plans, bringing you two back to square one as if you were always meant to find your way back to one another.

warnings: sixth member!reader ; arguing ; pining ; reader is canadian for the plot but it's not even that important it's just for a silly tims joke and smth more ; ugh they're so in love get away ; angsty but super fluffy + heavy pining ; a lot in one ; iffy pacing imo ; have fun with this one i rly liked writing this ; wtv else i didnt mention

a/n: guys PLEAAASSSE don’t be scared of the hook and angst tag PLSGIYS i swear it’s sweet… i swear. i was smiling throughout don’t be scared… it’s not THAT bad ANYWAYS i want timmy's so bad rn... un cafe infuse froid a la vanille si vous PLAAAIIT someone send me timbits asap

“i think we should break up.”

minji’s head snaps toward you, eyes wide, an exasperated “what?” escaping her lips.

confusion flashes across her face, and for good reason. everything has been good between you two, really good—no fighting, no tension, just the usual hustle of practice and training. you’ve both always found a way to make it work, to balance everything. so why now? why are you saying this?

you can’t bring yourself to meet her gaze, your eyes focused on some spot on the floor instead, teeth worrying your bottom lip.

“we’re both training so hard,” you murmur, your voice barely above a whisper. “i think we should focus on that for now.”

“but… everything is fine,” she says, a pleading note in her voice. “i don’t get it…”

truth is, you don’t want this—not at all. the idea of breaking up with her makes your chest tighten painfully. but things have gotten tougher lately, the rules stricter, your company’s expectations weighing heavily on you. being with minji would only make things harder down the line, for her and for you. you’d never want to hold her back—not her, not the person you love more than anything.

“i think it’s best for us,” you repeat, though your voice lacks conviction.

minji’s brows knit together, her eyes searching your face. “why do you get to decide this?” she argues, her voice rising slightly. “let’s just… talk it out. we can work through this, can’t we? we always work it out.”

you’ve only been together a few months, but they’ve been some of the best months of your life—of her life too, you know that. both of you are still figuring things out, still finding yourselves in the midst of all this chaos. hell, neither of you are legal adults yet, both being sixteen and clueless. but it’s minji who made you realize you’d never feel this way for anyone else, certainly not a man. she was the first girl who gave you butterflies just by smiling at you, the first whose hand you held with a racing heart, the first whose cheek you kissed, feeling your face flush with warmth.

and there’s that one memory, a core memory that replays in your mind like a favorite song—you can still feel her hands gently holding your face, the way her eyes sparkled with something pure, something deep, right before she leaned in and kissed you. your first kiss, your first everything. she’s your first love, and the thought of letting that go feels like tearing out a piece of yourself. 

tearing yourself away from her would be better for her anyway, that’s what your company insisted anyway.

“please,” minji whispers, and there’s a crack in her voice that breaks you all over again. “don’t do this.”

you swallow hard, your resolve wavering. your chest feels heavy, like you’re carrying a weight you can’t bear. but you press your lips together, fighting the urge to reach out and pull her into your arms, where she belongs.

“it’s… it’s better this way,” you say, even as everything inside you screams the opposite.

minji shakes her head slowly, a tear slipping down her cheek. “it’s not,” she insists, voice breaking. “it’s not better… not for me.”

and you know, deep down, it’s not better for you either.

“minji,” you begin, voice faltering. 

“don’t minji me,” she snaps, eyes fierce and determined. “we’re not breaking up.”

“we have to, don’t you get it?” your voice breaks, tears welling up as you stand in front of the entrance to her dorm, the one she always complained about, the one you’ve come to know so well. “how will we ever debut if we have these worries and burdens in the back of our minds?”

minji pauses, her features softening, but her gaze remains fixed on you. “you think i’m a burden?”

“n-no! no, minji, no.” you shake your head quickly, regretting your words the second they leave your mouth. “it’s not like that… my company’s been on my back, pushing me harder, and they might move me to another one. god, i feel like a pawn in chess or something. look, it’s just… it’s best we focus on our own paths right now.”

minji’s eyes search yours, hurt etched across her face. “we’ve always made time for each other before. what’s different this time? y/n, i love you.”

“we’re sixteen, minji,” you say, your voice barely above a whisper. “we’re young and… and stupid, and nothing in the future is promised.”

“well, i want you in mine. i would do anything to make sure you’re there in mine, anything.” she insists, her voice trembling, “even if you debut and i don’t, or the other way around—i want you there. i want you there always.” she steps closer, her hands coming up to rest on your shoulders, her touch warm and steady, even as your own resolve begins to crumble. 

her words make your neck tense, your lip quiver. you feel the tears spill over, hot against your skin. minji moves one hand to your cheek, her thumb brushing away the tears, her gaze softening as she whispers, “i love you. i love you when i’m exhausted from practice, i love you when i’m stressed over exams, i love you when we only have a few minutes together… i love you every moment of every day. i can’t… i can’t let you go.”

you shake your head, your breath coming out in short, uneven gasps as you pull away from her touch. minji’s brows knit together, her eyes filled with concern as she watches you crumble, sees you bury your face in your hands. you take a shaky breath, wiping your tears away with the back of your hand.

“i’m sorry, minji,” you choke out, your voice heavy with emotion. “i love you, but we can’t… we can’t do this. i don’t want to talk about it anymore. you don’t need me in your life. i—” your breath hitches, your heart clenching painfully in your chest. you wonder if it’s worth it, if sacrificing what you have with her is really the way to achieve your dreams. “i don’t need you in mine right now,” you finish, your voice cracking, every word cutting through you. “we should focus on our own things.”

minji stares at you, her eyes searching yours, her heart breaking, the words slowly sinking in. a tear slips down her cheek, and she doesn’t bother to wipe it away.

you take a step back, your vision blurred with tears. “i’m sorry, minji… i’m doing this for us—for you.”

you turn away, your chest tight, and as you walk away, the sound of minji’s quiet sobs echoes in your ears, each one tearing at your heart a little more. but you don’t look back. you can’t. not now, not when every step away from her feels like losing a part of yourself.

—

it’s been a year. one long, agonizing year since you last spoke to minji. a year spent fighting the urge to look through the hidden folder on your phone filled with photos of the two of you, each image a reminder of what you lost. you’ve stopped crying every night—first every week, then every month. but the guilt, the sorrow of losing her, the love of your life, still clings to you like a shadow.

you’ve thrown yourself into training, harder than ever. it stopped being about debuting a long time ago; now it’s just a distraction, a way to drown out the ache that never seems to fade. but was it worth it, listening to the company, if the will to keep going feels like it’s slipping through your fingers?

then, one day, they pull you aside. your company tells you you’re being relocated, moved to another company that’s shown interest in you, in your potential. they say you might debut sooner. it sounds like everything you should want, so you agree, packing your bags and letting them shuttle you off to the new dorms, even if a part of you feels numb, disconnected.

when you arrive at the new building, something about it feels familiar. the hallway, the scent in the air, the way the light filters through the windows—it all makes your heart thud in your chest, unease curling in your stomach. memories you tried so hard to bury start to bubble up.

you shake your head, trying to clear your thoughts, and push open the door to your new room. it’s… not much. the walls look a little worn, there’s a fine layer of dust on the shelves, and it’s small—cramped, really. not surprising. you’re still a trainee, after all. you didn’t expect luxury.

inside, two girls turn to look at you, surprised by your sudden entrance. one is shorter, with wavy hair and a bright, warm smile, the other taller and younger-looking, with a curious expression. you manage a small, polite smile in return. 

“hi, they sent me to source–”

“you must be y/n?” the girl with wavy hair interrupts, tilting her head slightly, studying you with interest as you shut the door behind you. “i’m danielle, nice to meet you.” her voice is friendly, her eyes sparkling with curiosity.

“hi, nice to meet you too.” you reply, noticing the slight arch of her brows. your korean is decent, but the accent still lingers, evident enough to catch attention. 

“i’m hyein,” the younger girl chimes in, a grin spreading across her face. “are you from here?”

“n-no, i’m not,” you stammer, a little caught off guard. “you could tell from my accent, huh? i’m still working on my korean. i’m fluent in english though.”

hyein glances at danielle, then back to you. she points at danielle and adds, “danielle speaks english too.”

“you do?” you ask, turning to danielle. she nods.

“yeah,” danielle says, switching to english with an easy smile. “it’s nice to have another english speaker around. two of the other trainees speak it pretty well too.” her accent is thick, australian, and it’s like a tiny piece of familiarity amidst all the change.

a small relief floods through you, just enough to calm the nerves that have been knotting your stomach all day. “oh, that’s… that’s good to know,” you say, a faint smile tugging at your lips.

“yeah,” danielle agrees, and for the first time since you arrived, you feel like maybe, just maybe, this new start won’t be as hard as you thought.

they both help you settle in, and soon you find yourself sharing a bed with hyein. it’s cramped, barely enough space for two, but it’s better than nothing. you’re grateful for their kindness. both of them seem so genuinely sweet, and you quickly learn that danielle is only a year younger than you, while hyein is much younger. she’s practically a child, literally a child, you feel a protective instinct kick in immediately. there’s a sincerity in her wide-eyed curiosity, an innocence that makes you want to look out for her, to make sure nothing ever limits her spirit.

danielle, on the other hand, is a ball of sunshine—radiating warmth and energy that makes the room feel brighter. she’s constantly smiling, her laughter infectious, and even though there’s a hint of tiredness in the way she moves, a slight slump to her shoulders, she’s still so full of life. she talks a lot, her voice light and cheerful as she shoots question after question while getting to know you. it’s hard not to be eased by her easygoing charm. 

as the night wears on, they do their best to lift your spirits, sensing the nerves that still linger just beneath the surface. danielle makes a few silly jokes that make you smile despite yourself, and hyein tries to comfort you with small gestures—a reassuring pat on the arm, a soft-spoken “it’s okay, you’ll get used to it. they must’ve relocated you for a reason!” they can tell you’ve been thrown into this new situation without much warning, and they’re doing their best to make you feel welcome. 

you feel a strange mixture of fear and hope—this whole thing is still so new, so uncertain. it’s unsettling to be here, to have been displaced so suddenly, but at least your new roommates are wonderful. they’re different from the people at your old company, where the atmosphere had been tense, filled with a kind of hostility that always made you feel on edge. here, there’s warmth, a sense of camaraderie you haven’t felt in a long time.

you wonder if this company will be any different. you hope it doesn’t end up ripping you apart like the last one, but for now, you find comfort in the gentle smiles and kind words of danielle and hyein. they make this unfamiliar place feel a little less lonely, a little less scary, and for tonight, that’s enough.

—

danielle shakes you and hyein awake at the crack of dawn, urging you both to get ready for training. it’s a normal routine for them, but for you, it’s the start of something new. you rush through your morning routine—skincare, a light layer of makeup, and clothes you hope are suitable for dancing. you quickly follow the two out, trailing behind as they lead you down a path toward another building, one that you assume is where all the training happens.

inside, they guide you through the hallways until you reach a room. danielle opens the door, and you’re greeted by an empty dance studio. hyein lights up at the sight, a wide grin spreading across her face. “we have some time to warm up before the other three get here,” she says, already jogging inside.

danielle steps in next, and you follow, trying to push down the nerves fluttering in your stomach. you all sit on the floor, stretching your legs, trying to loosen up and prepare for what you know will be hours of hard work. you focus on improving your flexibility, feeling the slight burn in your muscles as you push yourself further. ten minutes pass, and just as you start to feel a little more at ease, there’s a knock at the door.

the three of you turn your heads in unison, watching as the door creaks open and a girl shuffles in, rubbing her eyes like she just woke up. behind her, two more girls enter—the first is a shorter girl who yawns deeply with each step she takes, but the second girl… your heart stops dead in your chest.

kim minji.

kim fucking minji.

she catches your gaze, and both of you freeze. time seems to halt, your eyes locking onto each other in shock. minji looks just as stunned as you feel, her expression mirroring the disbelief you know is written all over your face. you can’t breathe, can’t think—your mind is spinning, and your heart feels like it’s dropped to your stomach.

before you can fully process what’s happening, a voice from the other side of the room snaps you back to reality. “you’re the new girl? nice to meet you! i’m hanni,” the shorter girl says, approaching with a friendly smile.

you force yourself to tear your eyes away from minji, swallowing hard before managing a polite smile in return. “nice to meet you, i’m y/n.”

minji, on the other hand, feels like she’s caught in a dream—or maybe a nightmare. you’re standing right there, in front of her, looking just as beautiful as you did the last time she saw you, minus the tears streaming down your face. she thought she had done pretty well moving on, pushing you aside so far in her mind so that she only thinks of you when she’s not bombarded with coursework or training—so rarely. she can’t move, can’t speak, not until danielle calls her over, breaking her from her trance. she takes a shaky breath and forces herself to join the group, her mind still reeling.

the room feels charged with tension, both of you stealing glances when you think the other isn’t looking, neither daring to say a word. it’s a strange, painful coincidence, running into each other like this. it’s almost as if cupid is playing a cruel joke, aiming to tear your heart to pieces rather than make it flutter.

and the worst part is, you just have to push on with practice like there’s no history between you two. like you don’t have memories stored up in your mind of her laugh, the way her hand fit in yours, or the way she looked at you like you were the only person in the world. both of you are still so young, but you know better than to let your feelings get in the way—not when debuting is on the line.

you take a deep breath, trying to steady your nerves as you introduce yourself to everyone again, making sure to keep your eyes anywhere but on minji. your voice is calm, your smile practiced, and you do your best to pretend that she isn’t standing just a few feet away, close enough for you to hear her breath hitch, close enough that you can almost feel the weight of her stare. 

the room is filled with conversation as the girls introduce themselves back, one by one. you nod, exchange pleasantries, but every word feels heavy, like you’re walking on a tightrope above a pit of old memories and unspoken feelings. you focus on the faces in front of you, the ones you haven’t seen before, trying to absorb their names and voices — hanni, haerin, danielle, hyein, and… — anything to distract from the familiar face you know too well.

then, practice begins, and you force yourself to concentrate on learning the choreography, to commit every move to memory. the beats of the music fill the room, and you step in time, trying to mirror danielle and hanni’s movements. you stretch your arms, pivot your feet, focus on your control, and move across the floor, pretending that your ex-love-of-your-life isn’t right there, just a few steps away. 

you try not to notice minji’s presence, the way her hair falls across her face when she turns, or the way she bites her lip when she’s trying to focus. you do everything you can to ignore the quickening of your heart whenever you hear her voice, sharp and clear, giving feedback to the others. you push down the memories that threaten to surface, the images of stolen kisses and whispered secrets, forcing yourself to focus on the rhythm, the steps, and the music.

but it’s hard to pretend when every glance feels loaded, every second that passes feels like an eternity. you know you’re here for a reason, to work hard, to debut, to make something of yourself, and you can’t let old feelings get in the way of that—not now, not ever. still, as you dance, you feel a pang of something deep in your chest, a longing that no amount of practice can seem to shake. not this time.

—

another year goes by, a year of slowly building bonds with the other girls and learning how to navigate around minji’s presence. the two of you have grown, mature enough to look each other in the eye, exchange a few words when necessary, but never more than that. neither of you dare to willingly interact beyond what's required.

an unspoken agreement hangs between you both: act alright in front of the others, get along enough to avoid raising questions, and move on. it’s all you can do. three hundred and sixty-five days pass, and in that time, you begin to notice more about minji, the side of her that never wavered, the side that’s still so caring towards everyone around her. 

you see her helping hanni with her korean, keeping hyein motivated with endless praises, complimenting danielle on her improvements, and reassuring haerin when worries weigh on her. minji’s always been the caring type, that never changed. neither did her pretty, gummy smile, her soft eyes, the way her eyebrows furrow in concentration—everything about her that once made your heart skip a beat still lingers, still draws your attention.

it stings, realizing your feelings haven’t faded. they’re still there, buried beneath the surface, and you know they’ll remain, how could they not? it’s kim minji you’re dealing with. if you debut together, those feelings will continue to simmer, but you push them down, suppress them, because you’re the one who created the distance between you two. the tension is your fault, and you have to deal with your mistakes.

minji tries not to break, not when she sees you laughing and being carefree with the others, yet stiff and distant around her. she knows she should be angry, and she is, but not enough to hate you. you’re both just young, chasing your dreams, and if that means leaving her behind, minji will accept it. as long as you’re happy, she can let go, because no matter what, she’ll always care about you, always love you in her own quiet way.

her feelings haven’t faded either, and sometimes it shows—when you’re with the others, bringing laughter and light into the room, she remembers the way you once brought that same warmth into her life. but staying stuck in the past won’t help her, and minji knows that. she allows herself a few glances, lets her gaze linger on you when she thinks no one’s looking, before pulling herself back to reality.

there’s always that unspoken tension in the air, the weight of words never said, the feelings both of you try so hard to bury. but somehow, you manage to keep going. you get by, coexisting in the same space, neither of you willing to confront the past, but not quite able to forget it either.

—

two days until debut, and the excitement is electric.

all six of you are buzzing, nerves mixed with joy. after years of grinding, sleepless nights, and moments where the dream seemed too far, you're almost there—right on the cusp of what you've always wanted. the final practice for "attention" wraps up, and you gather in a circle, sharing words of encouragement. the rehearsal went better than any of you could have hoped for, and the anticipation of seeing the music video reactions and stepping on stage for the first time is almost too much to handle.

the energy in the room shifts once practice is over, everyone easing into a more relaxed state. danielle is sprawled out on the floor, leaning against hanni, who's leaning on hyein. haerin sits by the mirror, legs crossed, lost in her thoughts. minji, meanwhile, stands near the mirror on the other side of the room, hands on her hips, staring at her reflection. you're in the center of the room, watching her without even realizing it, your eyes tracing the curve of her back before you finally gather the nerve to approach her.

you tap her shoulder twice, and she turns around, surprise flickering across her face. "y/n?" she says softly.

"hey..." you respond, suddenly shy, your eyes flickering from her chin to her collarbone, avoiding direct eye contact. "can we talk?"

minji hesitates, glancing around the room before nodding. "alright."

you lead her out of the practice room, both of you offering quick excuses as you slip away. the walk down the hallway is quiet, the silence heavy between you. minji waits for you to say something, but you can't seem to find the words until you reach a small window in front of a couch and potted plant. the light streaming in casts a soft glow over the space, and you take a deep breath.

“we’re debuting soon,” you say, the words awkward as they leave your mouth.

“yeah,” she breathes, her gaze following yours out the window.

“it’s been my— our dream for so long,” you continue, voice quiet. “i know things have been... rough between us. and that’s on me. i wanted to apologize.”

you take a deep breath, forcing yourself to meet her eyes, even if just for a moment. “from here on out, i want to mend things between us.”

minji’s eyes widen, and you can see the surprise written all over her face. you can tell she’s about to say something, but you press on before she can interrupt.

“i’m not asking for us to go back to how things were, i know that’s wrong of me to ask, considering i… yeah.” you clarify, gulping and trying to supress a faint blush. “but i want us to be members, to get along. eventually, maybe even friends again. i just want to fix things—at least a little. i know our past was complicated, but if we’re going to debut together, i want there to be less tension. more of... a broken bridge than no bridge at all, you know?”

your words hang in the air, and minji is silent for a few moments, processing. she looks at you with an expression you can’t quite place, and for a moment, you wonder if you’ve said too much. then she speaks, her voice quiet, almost fragile.

“okay,” she says, the word barely escaping her throat. “i want that too.”

relief washes over you, and you let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding. a small smile tugs at your lips. “i’m glad. i hope we can talk more, catch up... maybe do something normal again.”

“something normal,” minji echoes, a hint of uncertainty in her voice, but she smiles. it’s a soft, genuine smile, one that makes your heart clench a little.

the two of you stand there, the silence between you now comfortable, not heavy like before. for the first time in what feels like forever, you’re seeing her—really seeing her. minji’s changed. she’s more mature, more thoughtful in her actions, her words. there’s a quiet authority about her now, especially as the eldest. the others look up to her, and honestly, so do you. hell, you’ve always looked up to her. she’s become even more beautiful, the soft evening light highlighting her features, giving her this glow that makes it hard to look at her for too long without feeling something stir inside you.

minji, on the other hand, is taking you in as well, a quiet smile on her lips as she does. there’s something almost poetic about this moment—you two, standing here together, about to debut in the same group. just years ago you two had met by the river, built a friendship and more, then less. regardless of what would have happened to the two of you, you’d end up together again.

to think that there was a whole time where you were both in different buildings, different spaces, hoping the other would make it. now, you’re side by side, part of the same dream, somehow together again. both of you made it.

—

after your first debut stage, adrenaline courses through your veins as the six of you rush backstage, breathless and buzzing. the girls are squealing, jumping around, and you can’t help but grin at them. then, your eyes meet minji’s across the room. her smile is genuine, proud, and it softens something inside you. you mirror her expression, holding her gaze longer than you should, until danielle tackles you with a hug so tight you feel like your ribs might cave in.

“that was amazing!” danielle beams, pulling back just enough to see your face, her eyes sparkling. “i can’t believe we just did that.”

“i know, right?” you respond in english, your body finally beginning to relax. “i’m so... overwhelmed, but in the best way.”

“so many people were cheering for you.” danielle pokes your cheek playfully, a mischievous smirk tugging at her lips. “bet it was that wink you pulled off during your ending fairy.”

your face flushes instantly, and you push her away with a groan. “stop! i was nervous! i didn’t know what else to do…”

danielle’s laughter is contagious, and soon hanni joins in, her eyes twinkling with amusement. “smooth wink, miss l/n,” she teases. “you might end up with a lot of fangirls, more than guys i bet.”

you whine, trying to push them both away, before finding refuge by haerin, who’s spaced out in her own world. she blinks at you, a bit startled as you point over to danielle, hanni, and now hyein, who’s joined in, the trio replaying your ending fairy. they giggle like kids, mocking the way you winked and bit the inside of your lip. haerin just sighs in understanding, standing beside you like a silent bodyguard.

minji watches the whole scene unfold from a distance, a small smile tugging at her lips. there’s a warmth in her chest, seeing everyone so carefree and happy after all the hard work. she’s beyond glad that you all made it, that the dream finally came true.

(even if you’re not hers anymore, you’re happy, and that’s more than enough for her. minji is grateful just to know that.)

–

the next month flies by in a blur. your ep is out, there’s promotions, interviews, a few meetings, and just so much. despite the whirlwind, every feeling from every moment sticks with you, vivid and sharp.

each track from your ep gains massive popularity, spreading across the globe with people praising the group left and right. your debut isn’t just a debut—it’s the debut of the year, and suddenly, everyone’s talking about you. you’ve become the new “it” group, with people especially stunned by hyein’s talent at such a young age. the attention is surreal, but what shocks you the most is the way people are talking about you. everywhere you look, there are comments about your visuals, your voice, and the shy praise makes your cheeks burn.

(of course, hanni and danielle never miss the chance to tease you about your ending fairies blowing up online. each one garners thousands of views, and despite the attention, you cringe at every single one.)

but while you’re in the spotlight, so is minji. social media can’t get enough of her, with countless posts gushing over her visuals. people are stunned by how effortlessly beautiful she is, how her voice carries a certain warmth and depth. all the things you’ve always admired about her are now being praised by the world. her popularity is skyrocketing, and it’s no surprise to you. minji has always been stunning, both inside and out, and now everyone else is finally seeing what you’ve known all along.

it’s bittersweet; all the gushing over minji had been your little thing before you messed it all up.

—

minji sits with the rest of the girls in the dorm complex, a new one near hybe. it’s nicer, not as cramped as the old place, and even though she still shares a bed with haerin, she loves it. 

(it’s a queen sized bed instead of a full size, she’s not complaining at all.)

she’s grateful for everything, especially the upgrade from where they used to live. they’re all gathered for dinner, a celebratory meal after their debut, but as the minutes tick by, minji notices something off: you’re not there.

the rest of the girls don’t seem fazed, but minji is. she’s the oldest, the most observant, and it feels strange that a whole member is missing. she waits a few more minutes, but you still haven’t shown up.

“have any of you seen y/n?” minji asks, her voice calm but curious. “i don’t want us to eat without her. we’re a team—it doesn’t feel right.”

hanni tilts her head, looking a bit confused. “she didn’t tell you?”

“tell me what?” minji’s brows furrow slightly.

haerin chimes in. “she went out.”

“what?” minji stands up from the table, the unease settling in her stomach. 

“i told her to stay,” haerin continues, “but she kept saying ‘it’s okay’ and that she’d be back in an hour or something. she seemed pretty eager to get out.”

danielle shrugs, adding casually, “yeah, she told all of us. she didn’t mention it to you?”

minji shakes her head, feeling a small twist in her chest. “no, she didn’t.” the thought of you being out alone, especially during a meal this important, doesn’t sit right with her. you’d left your wallet in haerin’s bag—minji remembers seeing it out of the corner of her eye, a little gray wallet you always carried. she hadn’t thought much of it, assuming you’d all eat together like usual.

“she said she’s not hungry,” hyein chimes in. “she said she snacked too much earlier. don’t worry, she’ll be back.”

minji hesitates, still standing while the others pick up their bowls and begin eating. she knows you too well—you’re the type to lie if it meant sparing someone from worrying about you. and if you were really hungry but said otherwise, it just made her feel worse.

she sits back down but can’t shake the unease gnawing at her. she’s never eaten this fast before, practically gulping down the side dishes and wrapping lettuce around the grilled meat without much thought. she finishes her meal quickly, but it feels empty, and the food doesn’t settle well in her stomach.

after a few bites, she stands again, slipping on a light sweater. “i don’t want y/n to miss out on this food. it’s really good,” she says, her voice light, but her eyes are serious. “i’m going to go look for her, i’ll be back soon.”

before anyone can respond, she’s out the door. she walks quickly, her steps filled with purpose. she knows where you’ll be, and it’s not long before she’s headed to the place she’s almost certain you’ve gone to.

it’s a five-minute walk to the nearest bus stop, a three-minute wait, and a ten-minute bus ride to the area she’s thinking of. the city blurs by as she stares out the window, her thoughts racing. another few minutes pass as she speedwalks from the bus stop, her legs carrying her to the familiar bench by the river, the one with the view of the bridge that glows softly in the evening light.

she remembers the first time she met you here, how you both talked for hours, the breeze gently blowing through the trees. it’s quiet now, the water rippling softly under the dimming sky, and there you are, sitting alone on the bench, looking out at the water.

(“hi, is anyone sitting here?” minji asks, her voice lighter than it is now. 

she’s fifteen, fresh from a rare break in her training. she holds a small bag of honey chips in one hand and convenience store gimbap in the other—nowhere near as good as her mom’s, but enough to fill her up. her usual bench is taken, though, and she spots you sitting there. no big deal, she thinks, she’ll just sit on the other side.

you glance up, still chewing, and your eyes widen at the sight of her. “o-oh, no! here, sitting, um, no one. you can—uh—” you fumble for the words, trying to string them together. “alone, i am. with me, no one.”

minji smiles at you, easily picking up on your accent, the way you stumble through the grammar. a foreigner, she thinks. she gives you a thumbs up and takes a seat next to you, setting her bag of chips between the two of you.

you blink at her, caught off guard by how effortlessly she seems to glow. before you can say anything, she catches you staring, and offers you a chip. “want one?” she asks, holding the bag out.

“it’s okay, food, i have.” you respond, shaking your head, but she giggles softly.

“i have food,” minji gently corrects you, repeating the sentence with a small smile.

you mumble an embarrassed, “oh,” before adding shyly, “yeah, i have food.”

“your korean is really good,” minji compliments you, her tone warm. “it’s just your grammar and formality. but it’s not a big deal if we’re the same age. how old are you?”

you pause, taking a second to process her words, then respond, “fifteen. i’m fifteen.”

minji’s face lights up, her eyes crinkling with her bright smile, and you find yourself mirroring her expression. “me too!”

“really?” you say in english, then quickly switch back, clearing your throat. “really?”

minji nods, understanding your little slip, and switches to english herself. “you speak english?”

your eyes widen slightly in relief. “you speak english too?”

“i learned some here in korea,” she explains, her voice soothing and calm. “i also studied in canada for a while.”

“no way! i’m from canada.” 

“really?” minji’s eyes sparkle with interest.

“yeah,” you grin, glancing out at the bridge in front of you, the soft glow of the evening lights reflecting off the water. “i’d kill for some timbits right now… i wish korea had them.”

“i get that, they were my favorites when i studied there. cheap and good.” minji chuckles softly before asking, “why are you in korea? are you studying abroad?”

your smile falters for a second, and you hesitate before answering. “well, i want to be an idol. it’s… kind of stupid. i came here alone after making it through the audition and getting scouted, but i barely know the language. i just really want to be an idol—it’s my dream.”

“it’s not stupid at all.” minji leans in a little closer, her eyes locking on yours, the sincerity in her gaze catching you off guard. “i want to be one too. i’m a trainee.”

“really?” your surprise is evident in your voice. “that makes two of us.”

“i guess it does,” minji agrees, holding the bag of chips out to you again. “i’m minji, kim minji.”

“that’s a nice name,” you say, accepting the chip this time, plopping it into your mouth. “i’m y/n, l/n y/n.”

minji grins, her eyes soft as she says, “even nicer name.” the compliment catches you off guard, and you can’t help but giggle at her words.)

you notice someone sit down next to you, catching minji’s presence in your peripheral. her voice, now deeper and more grounded than that first time you met her, cuts through the silence.

“i hope this seat isn’t taken.”

your muscles relax as you scoot over to make room for her. “it’s not.” you keep your eyes on her as she settles in beside you, looking out at the familiar view. the glasses perched on her nose somehow make her even more striking, drawing out the natural allure she’s always had. you can’t help but let your gaze linger on her profile, tracing the soft lines of her face. 

before you lose yourself entirely, she breaks the silence. “you weren’t at dinner.”

“i wasn’t hungry.” you lie easily, turning back to the bridge.

minji gives you a side glance, clearly unconvinced. “right.”

“i just needed some space.” the truth slips out this time, your voice quieter. you can feel her gaze shift, now fixed on you. “how did you know i’d be here?” you ask, still staring ahead, avoiding her eyes.

“some things don’t change, y/n.” she says simply, leaning back into the bench. “i had a hunch.”

you stay quiet, the wind brushing past you both. the bench holds too much history for either of you to ignore. the same spot, years later.

(“you’re here again.” it had only been a week since your first meeting. minji had found you on the bench at nine at night, munching on fruit snacks. “thinking of timbits?”

you laughed, patting the seat next to you. “maybe.”

minji smiled as she sat down, and you handed her a piece of dried fruit without a second thought. “was it a coincidence that we ran into each other again?” she asked, sounding curious.

“maybe i’m just lucky,” you said playfully, “lucky to have run into you again.”

“lucky to run into me?” she raised an eyebrow.

“you’re the only person i can talk to like this,” you admitted. “i was hoping i’d see you again, kim minji.”

“i was kind of hoping the same, l/n y/n.”

“is that so?” you grinned, scooting closer. 

“maybe.”

the two of you spent the next hour talking, shoulders nearly touching, laughter filling the space between you. the fruit snacks were long gone, but you stayed, sharing stories about trainee life and the little struggles of the week. it felt easy, natural, like you’d known each other for years.

when your phone buzzed with a notification, your face fell, and minji’s mirrored yours.

“you have to go?” her voice held a tinge of disappointment.

“yeah,” you sighed, “but let’s meet again, okay? can i get your kakao?”

“of course!” minji had jumped at the chance, quickly giving you her contact. “can we meet again next week? i’m happy i’ve made a friend like you.”

“me too,” you had said softly, “you’re like a savior. my korean is so bad…”

“i’ll help you with that,” she’d laughed, “but our time is limited.”

you hugged her then, surprising her with the closeness. she caught the faint scent of lavender on you and hesitated for only a moment before hugging you back tightly. you mumbled a quiet “thanks,” your lips brushing against her hair near her ear, making her shiver slightly.

“for what?” she had asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

“doesn’t matter.”)

you feel minji looking at you now, and in the corner of your eye, you see her scoot a little closer, her shoulder brushing against yours. it’s subtle, but the warmth from years ago flickers to life again in your chest.

“your korean is really good now,” she says after a pause, her voice soft. “especially since the first time we met.”

“i’d hope so, after three years.” you smile to yourself, trying to lighten the moment.

minji doesn’t laugh, though. instead, she turns to face you, her expression unreadable. “i was worried, you know?” she says quietly. “why did you tell everyone but me that you were leaving?”

you turn to meet her gaze, lips parting as you exhale softly. her eyes are as warm and familiar as ever. “i knew you’d make me go back inside.”

“i wouldn’t.”

“yes, you would.”

“i’d just go outside with you, y/n.”

her words settle between you, and you feel the weight of them in your chest. she’s always been too kind, too caring, even more now than when you first met. she’s still minji, but somehow better, different in ways that make you feel like you’re stuck in place, the same selfish version of yourself.

“oh.”

there’s no warning when your eyes start to sting, a subtle burn building until you feel the tears pooling. you turn away quickly, hoping to hide it before it gets worse.

“do you hate me?” your voice comes out barely above a whisper, but shaky enough to betray you. “i wouldn’t blame you.”

minji’s brows furrow. “do i what?”

“hate me.” 

she pauses, studying you closely. her eyes trace the way your hands fidget restlessly in your lap—something she’s seen you do countless times before. you’ve always done it when you were anxious, whether it was before a monthly evaluation, or when you had something on your mind that you wouldn’t share with her. she notices how your teeth press into your lower lip, your foot bouncing slightly, a nervous habit she’s memorized over the years.

“y/n,” she says softly, scooting even closer until her side presses into yours. her arm wraps around your shoulders, gently pulling you into her. she holds you like she always has, her thumb brushing lightly over your arm in slow, comforting strokes. “i could never hate you.”

“i dumped you without a word,” you mutter bitterly, the words heavy on your tongue. “and then i got moved to your company, and you had to act like you were fine with me being there.”

minji stays quiet, letting you continue.

“you don’t have to pretend. i know i made it hard for you.”

“i’m not pretending,” she says, turning to look at you again. “you debuted, y/n, and that’s all i ever wanted for you. it’s your dream. you gave up so much to make it happen.” her voice softens even more, her gaze steady on you. “all i have is admiration for you. even if we’re… not together anymore, all i’ve ever wanted was for you to be happy.”

her words only make the tears spill faster, flowing freely down your cheeks as you tremble beside her. the warmth of her touch is familiar, and it brings back memories of when you were sixteen, when she’d comfort you in moments just like this, when everything felt overwhelming.

“minji, i’m sorry,” you manage to choke out, your voice cracking with the weight of it all.

“it’s okay,” she whispers, her hand still rubbing soothing circles into your shoulder.

you hate how vulnerable you feel, especially in front of her. you’ve held it together for so long, keeping your emotions locked down since the breakup, since the whirlwind of your debut. but now, sitting here next to her, it feels impossible to keep pretending. the tears keep coming, and you sniffle quietly, wiping at your cheeks with the back of your hand.

even though her arm is still around you, and part of you craves that comfort, you can’t help but feel like you don’t deserve it. the guilt presses down on you, and you gently take her hand, holding it for a brief moment to savor the warmth before carefully removing her arm from around your shoulders. you don’t meet her gaze as you do it, but minji seems to understand, not saying a word.

“you haven’t eaten yet, have you?” she asks after a beat, her voice still soft but with a hint of concern.

“i’m not that hungry,” you reply, forcing yourself to focus on anything but the heaviness in your chest.

“not even for gummy snacks?” she teases, tilting her head slightly as she watches you.

her playful tone pulls a small smile from your lips. “maybe for those…”

—

the next few months go quite normally, though it took you a bit to fully open up to minji.

you're timid and reserved, but there’s a new warmth in the way you interact with minji. the tension that kept you two apart starts to fade during the activities that come with your debut. livestreams, music video shoots, and photoshoots become regular parts of your routine, each one pulling you and minji closer.

during livestreams, you and minji share laughter, trading playful jabs as you engage with the fans. the cameras capture genuine smiles that hint at the friendship creeping up to the surface. music video filming offers another chance for you two to joke around, using humor to ease the nerves that come with performing in front of the crew. 

you find comfort in those moments, the way your shoulders brush together as you wait. a cozy blanket drapes over the two of you, forcing you into close proximity. in those quiet moments, laughter spills from your lips, light and infectious, often unnoticed by the cameras. the bond between you deepens as you exchange jokes, the sound of your shared amusement weaving a thread of connection that feels both familiar and new.

photoshoots also lead to accidental closeness. whether it’s posing back-to-back or sharing a prop—or something much more heart-racing like minji putting her arm around you or your head ending up on her shoulder—you two frequently end up right next to each other, considering the fact that you two are the oldest of the bunch, and a popular duo. the laughter comes easily, her smile draws you in without fail, and soon you’re both cracking a bunch more jokes to distract from the awkwardness of the camera lenses. there was a stiffness in the curtain that separated you both, and as soon as it begins to fall the lingering chemistry starts to peek through again.

as time passes, the bond you share with minji deepens as well as with the other members. the lingering feelings you both carry remain tucked away, hidden in the trenches of your hearts and overshadowed by the growing friendship. you find some type of comfort in this new ‘normal.’ to be completely true to yourself, you’re just grateful for the connection that remind you both of the comfort you once shared. 

(for the most part, it stings sometimes, mostly late at night.)

dinner and practice felt natural again too, as easy as brushing your teeth or opening the blinds in the morning. being around minji no longer held that awkward tension; instead, it was a comfort, familiar and warm. the only thing that lingered was your admiration for her, something small that colored your interactions. 

(there were more nights that stung.)

at practice you’d see her greeting everyone with your favorite smile of hers, eyes crinkly and gums showing. she’d smile at you sweetly, maybe even sweeter than how she smiles at the others (but you could be delusional) then head on over to one corner to stretch. 

even the others would notice this, catching you while you’re stretching, hand on one foot reaching for it as you stare at minji through the mirror.

minji is sweaty, lifting her shirt a bit to wipe remnants of the rigorous choreo and giving you a peek of her abdomen. when she brings her shirt back down, your eyes go back to her face. she’s stunning, even after all that exercise and tiring movement. her hair sticks to her a bit, and she just looks so—

hanni pushes you over subtly, making you fall over and let out a weird noise that only she catches. you give her a glare and get up.

“you’re so annoying.”

“someone’s daydreaming a lot these days.” hanni’s right, you’ve been doing that far too often.

“just got a lot on my mind.”

“you’re always staring at minji.” hanni snickers, looking over at the oldest member. “bunnies have even caught you in the youtube videos.”

“they have?”

hanni laughs, helping you up on your feet. “people are calling you guys ‘parentz’ online.”

“w-what?”

“it’s kind of cute,” she grins, “it’s actually hilarious. dani and i were laughing at some clips last night.”

you scoff in response, nudging her with your shoulder and snickering after. minji catches the interaction from afar, eyes narrowing just barely when hanni pushes you again with a little more force, and eyes narrowing just a bit more when you push her back again and laugh.

—

minji hasn’t felt like herself lately, it’s been more than a week. there’s something about you that keeps her attention, especially now that you look stunning for the comeback. in the photoshoots and music video recordings for “super shy” and “new jeans,” you radiated beauty, and minji often tried to look away, but your adorable hairstyle was impossible to resist. she found herself playing with your hair whenever hyein, danielle, or haerin joined in, but only when they distracted you. she wouldn’t dare being the first to do so.

as you began shooting for the full album—not even music video shooting or for the photobooks, just in the booth recording the actual songs—minji was pulled in like sand drawn back into the ocean. she caught sight of you just before her turn to record, attempting to sneak up and surprise you, but you surprised her instead. walking out of the studio, you wore no makeup, your hair was clipped up messily, and a snug t-shirt and sweatpants hugged your form perfectly. 

(her eyes stayed on the curve of your torso for a little longer than she’d like to admit.)

minji froze for a moment, taking in how unraveled you looked; she was mesmerized.

“i didn’t think you’d be here early,” you said, your smile breaking her trance. 

minji felt her stomach twist.

“wanted to surprise you,” she replied, earning a bigger smile in return. “you sound good.” she added, biting back the urge to tell you how good you looked.

“did i? ugh, i don’t know; i think i can do better. i’ll work on adjustments tomorrow.” you sighed, a familiar hint of perfectionism creeping into your voice. minji had always found it strange how you saw flaws in everything you did, despite your talents. you’ve always been like that even when you were fifteen, sixteen, and during the time you two were trainees together. “i bet you’ll do lovely, though.” you add, shaking the topic of you off.

“you think too highly of me,” minji chuckled, shaking her head. “my range is kind of iffy.”

“your voice suits anything, minji. i like how deep it is. it’s nice to the ears, really soothing.” you shrugged, glancing at the cap she wore—a dark gray with pink lettering. a small smirk tugged at your lips, almost imperceptible, but minji noticed. you pinched the brim, lifting it slightly to reveal more of her face before turning it backward and letting it sit like that on her head, a few strands of hair poking out from under to cover her eyes.

“is this new?” you ask, your surprise evident. you move the hair away from her eyes and minji swears she feels her legs wobble.

“um,” minji stammered, caught off guard and blushing slightly. “yeah.”

“it’s cute,” you mumble softly. “fits you well. i’ll see you later? what do you want for dinner? i’m cooking for us tonight.”

“uh, i, um. anything the members want—ask hyein.”

“okay.” you smiled again, walking past her but pausing to give her shoulder a gentle pat. 

minji felt a rush of warmth from the brief contact, and as she stepped into the recording booth, she struggled to shake off the memory of your interaction. her mind lingered on your words and the way you looked at her, causing her to falter. the producer raised an eyebrow at her distraction, but once she shook it off, she found her rhythm, pouring her heart into the song.

—

if seeing you just after recording made her lose her balance, then just seeing you in every concept for the new album had completely swept her off her feet. 

for “cool with you,” the stylists had dressed the members similarly, all with flowy white outfits. however, each members look was different. everyone looked amazing, but the stylist seemed to pay a lot of attention to you—at least in minji’s eyes— because they did you great.

your makeup wasn’t all that strong, just simple eyeshadow, light blush, and faint lip product. still, you looked ethereal. it seemed like you had jumped out of a fairytale movie, even the cameras for the “behind-the-scenes” recording had caught her staring.

minji laughs awkwardly after catching the camera in her peripheral, smiling to hide how flustered she is.

“y/n looks very pretty, doesn’t she?” minji says, “everyone does. i think the concept suits everyone well.”

the camera is still on her, she starts talking about how she feels about the shoot and the album. then minji feels someone creep up from behind, putting both hands on her shoulders and making her jump up. she turns her head slightly to meet some of your features, your gaze on the camera in front of you gives minji a good look at the side of your face.

“hi everyone!” you wave to the camera, then turn to your left, meeting minji. “hi minji.” you say softly, almost adoringly—minji might be a little insane for thinking there’s even a hint of adoration in your tone.

“hi y/n.” 

“i like how they styled you,” you admit, “doesn’t she look wonderful?” you run your fingers through the hair falling down her shoulders. “your hair is so soft… ah, i love the accessories in your hair.”

minji tries her best to keep her cool, especially with the camera focused on both of you. you’re reaching out, playing with her clothes or gently tugging on strands of her hair. your fingers trace the edges of her accessories, and then, almost absentmindedly, you start to toy with her hands, admiring her nails like they’re the most fascinating thing in the world and boasting about it to your fans. at one point, your gaze locks with hers, and minji feels herself freeze for a second. your eyes are intense, filled with a warmth she can’t quite describe, something familiar and it makes her heart race. embarrassed, she laughs it off, looking away as though your compliments are nothing.

minji tries to return the favor, hoping to give you even a fraction of the feeling you’ve stirred in her. her knuckles brush lightly against your jaw, sending a soft tingle up your spine as she points out your earrings to the camera. her touch is brief, but intimate enough to make you hold your breath. then, without warning, you feel her fingers gently poking into your scalp, carefully lifting a section of your hair to admire its style. you don’t expect the sudden closeness, and your lips part slightly as heat rises to your cheeks. 

she catches the change in your expression and feels a little proud, her own heart fluttering at the sight of your blush.

“i was just telling ‘bunnies’ about your look for today. i think it’s really beautiful.”

“do you?”

“mhm,” she nods, “i bet you’ll look wonderful during the choreography too. i’m excited to see the monitoring.”

“haha,” you chuckle awkwardly, “thanks.”

the staff stops recording and shoots a thumbs up to you two, which lifts a weight of your shoulders.

you two don’t share a word for a moment. you can’t really look at her for some reason, and neither can she, but thankfully hyein joins in and starts admiring the both of you.

—

day two of shooting is simply hours of posing for the photobooth. you’re set up for group shots, then some solos.

as you’re doing your solo’s, danielle pops up from behind the camera and starts throwing compliments at you. 

“pretty girl~” she teases, “ooh la la~”

your stone-faced expression is replaced with amusement after the shoot ends. you let out the laughs you’ve been holding, getting up to teasingly hold onto danielle and then push her back. 

“you’re so annoying,” you joke, walking away from her. “you’re so lucky i was close to finishing the shoot, i wouldn’t have been able to go on after.”

“sorry y/n-ie.” she apologizes, “i couldn’t help it.”

you roll your eyes, catching the camera that’s recording the interaction and giving it a dumbfounded look. you pout playfully before danielle jumps to your side and smiles as she hangs onto your arm, both of you giggling like idiots.

minji, who’s watching from afar, accidentally frowns. hanni notices this, considering minji is supposed to be taking a picture of her so she can update on ‘phoning.’

“what’s with the sad face?”

“what?” minji focuses on hanni again instead of the scene going on behind the younger member, readjusting her hand. “it’s just my resting face.”

“you’re not even taking the pictures properly.”

“i– i was thinking of something.” minji shrugs, “look here, let me snap a picture.”

but hanni doesn’t look back at the camera, instead turning around to catch you and danielle giggling about something. then she looks back at minji, who’s also looking in the same direction again, frown present.

“did something happen with either of them?”

“no, it’s nothing.” minji sighs, “you turned your head while i was taking the picture, let’s redo–”

“you weren’t paying attention when you took it.”

“hanni–”

“what’s going on?” hanni asks, brows creasing slightly. “is it y/n?”

“it’s nothing.” minji says firmly, putting the phone down now and giving up. “i think i’m going to go use the restroom.”

“nuh uh, no you’re not.” hanni grabs her wrist, squaring up with minji. “c’mon, what’s up?”

minji pauses, words failing her as she tries to piece together how to explain what’s been gnawing at her for weeks. how does she tell hanni that she’s jealous, jealous of the easy way you and danielle flirt without thinking twice about it? how does she admit that you’ve never really left her mind, that she still wakes up some days with her heart aching for you, despite all her efforts to push the feelings down? minji wonders how she could possibly confess that she hasn’t fallen out of love with you—not even close. in fact, she’s only fallen deeper, drawn to this new version of you that she wasn’t around to witness grow.

it hurts, more than she lets on, that she’s missed out on so much of your life. the pain of being cut off so suddenly still lingers, but at the same time, she’s proud of the sacrifices you made to debut. and it stings even more that you debuted alongside her, the constant proximity stirring up emotions she thought she had buried. she’s spent so many nights alone, thinking about you, about the two of you, wondering what went wrong and what could have been different. 

hanni watches her, waiting for an answer, and minji shrugs, trying to mask the storm of emotions with something easier to swallow.  

“i just feel like y/n and i have this… rift, i guess. as friends, i mean.”

“i don’t see anything wrong between you two,” hanni replies, clearly unconvinced.

“i don’t know… she’s just so relaxed with everyone else, like with danielle. they act like they’ve known each other forever, but with me, it’s different. it feels like something’s changed.”

“are you jealous?”

“no! no,” minji says quickly, shaking her head, though her voice betrays a hint of uncertainty. “it’s not that. i just don’t want anything rocky between us. everything’s fine with the others, but with her… it’s complicated.”

hanni gives her a knowing look. “if it helps, i think she looks up to you a lot. you’re both the oldest, and i feel like there’s a different kind of pressure on you two. maybe she’s just intimidated by how amazing you are. she talks about you all the time when we hang out, and i’ve seen her look at you from across the room more than once. i think you two need to talk or something.”

“she looks at me?”

hanni rolls her eyes. “is that seriously the only thing you took from that? you’re impossible.”

minji blushes, a quiet laugh escaping her, but hanni’s words stick with her. “no, but seriously,” hanni continues, “we’ve had some deep talks, a lot actually. she’s mentioned being scared that she’s not as good as you. she thinks you’re way out of her league, like you set this standard that’s hard to meet.”

minji’s quiet, the weight of hanni’s words sinking in. she glances over and catches your eye from across the room, both of you pausing for a split second before you smile. it’s a small, soft smile, the kind that leaves minji’s heart racing. she quickly looks away, flustered.

“i guess i’ll talk to her,” minji says, her voice softer now.

“you should. i mean, i’m not her, but that’s just my two cents—or won or whatever. you get what i mean.”

minji bites the inside of her lip, nodding slightly as she mulls over the thought of actually talking to you. it’s long overdue. too many things were left unsaid when you ended things, even the apology you gave her before debut didn’t cover it all. but the idea of confronting it all, of putting herself in that vulnerable position again, is terrifying.

maybe after the shoots, after the performances, after the album drops, she tells herself. more time to stall, more time to watch you from a distance, more time to get lost in her own confusion. 

—

promotions aren’t done yet, but you’re close. you’ve just gotten back to korea after performing at lollapalooza, a memory that’ll surely be engraved in your mind.

as fun as it was, you’re exhausted, exhausted from everything and how often you were being put near minji. 

as soon as you get back to the dorms, exhaustion pulls you straight to your bed. you barely make it onto the mattress before you collapse, landing flat on your back. your eyes are heavy from the long day of shooting for the ‘newjeans’ youtube channel, and within seconds, you drift off into sleep, your body giving in completely.

but when you wake up, you’re not in your bed anymore.

the air feels different, the scenery unfamiliar yet somehow recognizable. you blink, disoriented, as you take in the street around you. it feels like a memory—one deeply embedded in your mind. you look down and see your pinky linked with someone else’s, the warmth of their hand anchoring you. confused, you follow the connection, eyes tracing up their arm to their face. at first, the features are blurry, making you squint. and then it hits you, as clear as day.

it’s minji, but not the minji you know now. it’s sixteen-year-old minji.

your heart stutters in your chest. she looks exactly as she did back then, her bright smile lighting up her face. her eyes are wide and full of life, just like you remember from the night market where everything between you had changed. the place where you’d confessed to each other, turning a casual hangout into an unplanned first date.

“what’s wrong? you look a little pale,” minji says, tilting her head in concern, but there’s a playful lilt to her voice.

“minji?” you manage to say, your voice wavering. “what’s going on? you—this—”

“y/n, why are you acting weird?” she laughs softly, her hand sliding into yours, fingers intertwining easily. her thumb brushes lightly against your skin, a touch so familiar it makes your heart ache. “did you skip a meal again? i told you to eat before we came out here.”

her words are like a time capsule, pulling you back to when she’d always remind you to eat. even when she was drowning in her own trainee schedule, she’d send texts making sure you were taking care of yourself. back then, you were just friends. or maybe more, even if you didn’t want to admit it.

“i—i have to go,” you stammer, your chest tightening as panic floods your system.

“again?” her smile fades into a frown, brows knitting in confusion as you pull your hand away from hers. “you’re leaving again? without explaining?”

“what?” your voice cracks.

“you’re always leaving me,” she says, her tone dropping. “are you ever going to stop?”

“minji,” you whisper, shutting your eyes against the guilt that washes over you. the regret is palpable, twisting in your stomach. “i didn’t want to, but i had to.”

when you open your eyes again, you’re somewhere else. the market is gone, and you’re left disoriented once more, thrown into another unfamiliar scene.

you’re on a couch now, rubbing your eyes as you sit up. the air smells sweet, like pancakes. your favorite—sundays at home, topped with fresh maple syrup. the scent guides you into the kitchen, where a girl is standing at the stove, her back turned to you. long, dark hair, pajama pants, a loose t-shirt.

she turns, and your heart nearly stops again. it’s minji.

but this time, she’s not sixteen. she’s the age she should be. the present minji. your minji.

“you alright, love?” she asks, concern in her voice as she turns the stove down and sets the spatula aside. she walks over, fingers gently fixing your messy bedhead. “bad nap?”

her touch is soft, her presence warm. she cups your cheek with one hand, her thumb brushing against your skin. “you looked a little shaken up.”

“i’m… no, i’m okay,” you lie, leaning into her touch for just a second. your eyes drift past her, trying to ground yourself. “are you making pancakes?”

“yeah,” she says shyly, her lips curling into a soft smile. “you mentioned missing home, so i thought i’d surprise you.” she presses a light kiss to the tip of your nose. “there’s a batch ready for you.”

“thank you,” you murmur, the words barely leaving your lips as a lump forms in your throat.

“anything for you, baby.” she takes your hand, leading you toward the stove where a plate sits—two pancakes perfectly stacked with raspberries and syrup. it’s thoughtful. so minji. 

you love this, you love her. you never stopped loving her, you couldn’t ever do that. but instead of feeling warmth, you feel a pit growing in your stomach. something’s not right.

“this isn’t right,” you say, voice trembling as you put the plate down.

minji blinks, tilting her head in confusion. “what’s wrong? is it the pancakes?”

“not the pancakes,” you say, stepping back, your hands shaking. “this. none of this.”

she moves closer, concern deepening in her eyes, but you instinctively back away.

“y/n, what are you talking about?”

“this isn’t real,” you choke out, your voice breaking. “i don’t deserve this. minji, i broke up with you. this never happened.”

a tear slides down your cheek, your lip quivering uncontrollably as the weight of your words sinks in. “i’m sorry, minji. i’m so, so sorry. i keep doing this to you. i’m so sorry… i love you so much.”

minji’s expression mirrors the heartbreak from that day—the day you stood at her door, delivering the news that shattered everything between you. the pain you inflicted on her then, it’s all here now, reflected in her eyes.

before she can say anything, you turn, running toward the door, heart pounding in your chest.

…

you shoot up in bed, gasping for air. it takes a few moments before you realize where you are. blinking rapidly, you rub your eyes, trying to ground yourself in reality. you grab your phone, checking the notifications—something from your mom, and a random emoji from haerin in the group chat.

this is real. you're awake. it was just a dream.

it's one in the morning, and you're sitting on the edge of your bed, face buried in your hands. your eyes are shut tightly, trying to suppress the emotions that are threatening to surface. after a deep breath, you force yourself to stand, legs feeling unsteady but somehow keeping your balance. you make your way to the bathroom, turning on the light, squinting as the brightness stings your eyes. you splash cold water onto your face, hoping to snap yourself out of the lingering shock. you stare into the mirror and the reflection looking back is someone you barely recognize—someone you can’t stand. your breath shakes, your brows furrow, and you hastily wipe the water from your face before switching off the light and heading toward the living room.

you stop in the kitchen first. grabbing a glass from the cabinet, your fingers hesitate when you realize it's the one minji gifted you for your first birthday together in the group. the memory flashes in your mind—you remember the shock on your face being caught on live stream, eyes wide when she handed you a clear glass with your favorite cartoon character on it. you can almost hear the laughter from that moment, but now it just feels heavy in your hands. 

you fill the glass with water and take a sip, catching your distorted reflection in the stainless steel of the fridge. your hair’s a mess, faint lines under your eyes telling you that sleep hasn’t been kind. you lean your forehead against the cool surface of the fridge, closing your eyes and sighing deeply as exhaustion sets in even deeper.

"are you okay?" a voice comes from behind, making you jump and spill a bit of water onto the floor.

it’s minji—of course it’s minji.

"woah, hey, let me help you clean that—" she steps forward, concerned.

"i’m fine," you lie, shaking your head, waving her away as you kneel down to clean the small spill. "it’s just a few drops, don’t worry." you place the glass on the counter and grab the nearest paper towel, crouching down to wipe the floor quickly, feeling her eyes on you the entire time.

minji watches you closely, her expression soft yet concerned, taking in your restless, frantic movements.

"are you sure you’re alright?" she asks again, voice low, gentle.

"yeah," you breathe out quietly, still not meeting her gaze.

"why are you up this late?" she presses, stepping a little closer, her presence warm but heavy with concern.

you straighten up, tossing the paper towel in the trash. "i just had a… a strange dream."

"nightmare?" she asks softly, tilting her head.

"something like that." you try to brush it off, but you’re too tired to put much effort into sounding convincing. minji watches as you trudge over to the couch, your body language saying more than your words. you sit heavily, sipping your water before setting the glass down on the coffee table. leaning back against the cushions, you close your eyes, trying to sink into the silence, but it doesn’t bring comfort.

minji follows, sitting a few feet away, watching you, clearly wanting to understand. she can tell something’s off. "y/n," she says softly, her voice coaxing your eyes open, "is everything okay?"

you don’t respond right away, instead turning your head slightly to look at her. there’s something vulnerable in your eyes, a longing, a quiet ache. but you sigh, closing your eyes again, trying to swallow it all down.

"i’m sorry," you whisper after a beat.

"for what?" minji asks gently, scooting closer to you, her hand hovering over yours as if she’s not sure whether to reach for you or not.

"everything," you mutter, voice thick with regret. "minji, i’m sorry for everything."

she shifts even closer now, her hand softly covering yours, her thumb brushing lightly against your skin. "is this about…" she trails off, already knowing what you’re referring to.

"yeah," you say quietly, eyes still closed, voice tight. "i’m sorry. i’m so sorry." your voice breaks, and you finally open your eyes, but you can’t look at her. "you didn’t deserve what i did. i’m sorry i debuted with you, i’m sorry for all of it. god, minji, i’m so sorry."

"y/n," she breathes out softly, her hand gripping yours a little tighter now. "we were young. we didn’t know—"

"i didn’t want to break up with you," you blurt out, cutting her off. "my company… they saw my lockscreen. i’m so stupid. they made me break your heart." the words spill out, your voice raw and trembling. "you were never a burden. i never stopped loving you. seeing you now, after all this time, you’ve grown into this incredible person, and i… i can’t stop loving you. it’s killing me. i don’t deserve to love you after what i did. i tried to push it down, but i can’t. i hate myself for it." your breath catches in your throat, tears welling up as you force yourself to keep talking. "you’re so perfect. you’re everything i could never be."

"y/n, stop," minji pleads, her voice thick with emotion, but you pull your hand away, retreating from her touch.

"no, you don’t get it," you say, shaking your head. "you’re perfect, minji. i’m being compared to you every day, and i’m nothing like you. you’re the role model, you’re everything the group needs. and i’m just… i’m an asshole. i tried so hard to keep things casual, to pretend i was fine, but i’m not. i’m not fine. i’m still so in love with you that it hurts." you pause, voice faltering, barely holding it together. "i’m sorry. i’m so, so sorry."

minji’s eyes fill with tears as she listens, her heart clearly breaking for you, for everything you’ve carried alone. she tries to pull you in again, to comfort you, but you push her away one last time, unable to accept the closeness.

and she doesn’t push further. she just watches, her heart breaking alongside yours.

a tear slips from her eyes, she’s looking at your trembling body and unstoppable flow of tears. minji shakes her head, opting for holding your hands instead, her fingers brushing against your knuckles.

“y/n, do you remember what i told you before?”

“what?”

“y/n i hated you for a good amount of time. but time made me realize that we were both just trying to reach our dreams, and if that meant you sacrificing us, then… i support you. i did support you. that never stopped me from loving you either.”

you stay silent and look at her through tear lined eyes.

“i tried to push down a lot, and it hurts to see that you’re hurting from doing the same thing as me. as your member, as your friend, and… as someone who loves you beyond measure: i don’t want you to hurt anymore. it’s okay, y/n, it’s okay.”

you let her pull you in this time, her tears stain your hair and her arms wrap around you so warmly that all you can do is succumb to the tenderness. you sob into her shoulder, muttering at least three more “i’m sorry’s” into her.

“y/n, what i said before still goes. ‘i love you. i love you when i’m exhausted from practice, i love you when i’m stressed over exams, i love you when we only have a few minutes together… i love you every moment of every day.’ i never stopped loving you ever.” 

the memory echoes in your head, replaying the two times minji said it—both sincere, both heart-wrenching. you feel a little less terrible when her hands begin rubbing your back in slow, soothing circles. you can hear the slight crack in her voice, the way she tries to stay strong for you because that’s who she is—someone who always holds it together for everyone else. 

(“are you okay?” you’d asked her once, catching that brief shift in her expression, the kind she tried to hide. 

you took a better look at her that day, noticing the dark circles under her eyes, the slight lag in her movements, like she was carrying something heavy. it took her a few seconds to force a smile, nodding as if everything was fine.

“yeah, sorry,” she said casually, quickly turning her attention back to her food. “just thinking.”

“minji,” you said her name softly, reaching out to place your hand over hers. she looked up at you, a little surprised, her cheeks flushing slightly. “tell me what’s going on.”

“it’s fine, i—” she started, but you cut her off with a raised brow, your expression making her shrink a little under your gaze. the warm glow of the restaurant’s evening lights illuminated her features, the soft orange hue catching the tiredness in her eyes. she pursed her lips, letting out a small sigh before admitting, “everything’s been really difficult lately. i’m losing energy. i feel like i’m not doing well. it’s just… i wish you could be there with me more. thinking about you is what gets me through practice. knowing i’ll see you, even just once or twice a week, pushes me to keep going.”

you didn’t say anything at first, just pushed your bowl of noodles across the table towards her before standing up and sitting beside her instead of across. she looked at you, confused, but you reached for her hand again, holding it in both of yours as you gazed at her with all the love and understanding you felt.

“you’re always doing great, minji. no one’s doing it like you,” you said, voice soft but certain.

“really?” her voice was small, like she wasn’t sure if she should believe you.

“of course,” you reassured her, leaning in to press a gentle kiss to the side of her head before pulling back. “i’ve been feeling the same way. just the thought of you keeps me going. let’s be each other’s push, okay?”

minji’s face softened, her lips curving into a small smile. she nodded before leaning in and pressing a tender kiss to your lips.

“okay,” she whispered.) 

as you sit here now, her hands still rubbing comforting circles on your back, the memory feels bittersweet. she’s always been there for you, even when you couldn’t be there for her.

minji holds you close, her arms tight around you like she’s afraid you’ll slip away if she lets go. you bury your face deeper into the crook of her neck, your own arms wrapped around her, clinging like she’s your anchor.

“you’ve always been my push,” minji says softly, her voice barely above a whisper. “that’s never changed.”

she pulls back gently, lifting your head and brushing away the strands of hair that have stuck to your tear-streaked face. her own eyes are glassy, but she smiles through the tears, looking at you in a way that makes her feel exposed, vulnerable—like she’s seeing you for the first time all over again.

“can we try again?” you ask, voice trembling with hope and hesitation.

she blinks, heart racing. the weight of your question settles in the air, heavy and fragile. 

“of course,” she whispers, her voice cracking. “that’s all i’ve wanted.”

time seems to freeze, the air still around you as your eyes lock. it feels like you’re both sixteen again, standing in that alleyway after a long night at the street market, except this time it’s different. now you’re on the couch, in the dorm you both share because you made it—you both made it. you two achieved your dreams. but there’s always been something missing: each other.

minji cups your cheek, just like she did back then, but her touch is softer now, more tender, more vulnerable. her thumb strokes your skin as she leans in slowly, her eyes fluttering shut before her lips meet yours. it’s gentle, delicate, like she’s afraid you’ll crumble under the weight of her affection. your hand instinctively moves to rest atop hers, feeling the warmth of her knuckles against your cold skin. the kiss is soft, laced with the remnants of tears, but somehow it tastes sweet. everything you’ve been holding onto—all the fear, all the doubt—seems to melt away in that moment.

you pull back first, though only just. your lips hover near hers, close enough to feel her breath.

“i love you, minji,” you say, voice low but firm. “i’m never going to make you doubt that again.”

her eyes soften, and she brings her hand to the nape of your neck, pulling you in again. “i love you too, y/n,” she whispers, before pressing her lips to yours once more, this time with a little more certainty, a little more sweetness. like you’ve both finally found what you’ve been missing.

—

hyein stumbles into the living room, rubbing her eyes, not fully awake yet. she groans, dragging her feet toward the kitchen, but stops mid-step when she spots two familiar heads peeking out from the couch. her sleepy eyes narrow as she tries to make sense of what she’s seeing. the sight takes a moment to register, and when it finally does, a sleepy smile creeps onto her face.

you and minji are tangled together on the couch in what looks like an awkward but oddly comfortable position. your head is resting on her shoulder, one arm lazily draped over her, your hand clasped loosely with hers. minji’s other arm is wrapped around you protectively, her head tilted at an angle that looks uncomfortable, but somehow it balances out with the way yours is twisted. the corner of the couch has you two nestled in tight, looking cozy in your pajamas, mouths parted slightly, both of your eyes a little puffy from sleep—a little too puffy to be from sleep. hyein stares, completely baffled at how you both ended up like this.

haerin is the next to wake up, and she spots hyein standing by the couch, phone in hand, snapping a picture. haerin yawns as she saunters over, her head tilting like a curious cat when she catches sight of you two. her brows furrow, and before she can even ask, your head slips, falling from minji’s shoulder and landing in her lap. your torso twists in an awkward, almost painful-looking angle, but minji instinctively shifts, scooting over to make room and pulling you closer, making sure you’re both comfortable without even waking up.

"what’s with them?" haerin asks, her voice low and groggy, her eyes narrowing at her oldest members.

"dunno," hyein shrugs, amused. "i’ve never seen them this close."

"me neither."

before they can figure out what’s going on, hanni and danielle stroll in, spotting the younger girls gathered by the couch. curiosity piqued, they walk over to see what’s going on, and as soon as they do, their eyes widen in surprise. a grin spreads across hanni’s face, and she wastes no time whipping out her phone to capture the moment. she quickly airdrops the photo to danielle, who giggles as she looks down at her phone, eyes twinkling with mischief.

"what’s up with the parents?" hanni teases, barely able to hold back a laugh.

"parents?" haerin repeats, raising an eyebrow.

"just look at them."

you and minji remain tangled together, still sound asleep despite the odd position, yet somehow, you both look peaceful, like it’s the most natural thing in the world. your head rests in minji’s lap now, her hand still protectively holding yours, the two of you fitting together as if you’ve always been like this.

hyein and haerin exchange glances, amused but confused, while hanni and danielle quietly snicker like children who’ve stumbled onto something they weren’t supposed to see.

—

the next few weeks with promotions still going on postpones the time you get to explain everything to your members. but eventually you and minji sit down with them in the living room, going over the whole timeline of events and earning a variety of reactions.

your members gather around, all seated in the living room, eyes trained on you and minji. there’s a tense sort of anticipation in the air, the kind that comes with heavy conversations. you and minji exchange a glance before diving into the timeline of everything— how it started, how it fell apart, and now, how you’ve found your way back to each other. each word feels like you’re lifting a piece of the weight that’s been suffocating you both for so long.

the reactions from your members are immediate. there are lots of “ohhhh”s and “ahhhhs” as they start piecing things together, understanding slowly dawning on their faces. you see nods of realization, and even though some of the details are painful, they listen intently, faces softened with sympathy. they admit they’d sensed something was off but had never wanted to pry, giving you both the space they thought you needed. now, knowing the full story, their expressions shift to one of collective empathy, eyes filled with a kind of pity and concern.

you and minji sit close, your hands intertwined, a subtle reassurance to each other that it’s okay to finally share this. as you speak, minji’s thumb rubs gentle circles against your skin, grounding you when the memories become too much. the frowns deepen as you recount the harder parts—the breakup, the misunderstandings, and the silent pain you both carried alone. but there’s also relief. it’s evident in the way your members nod along, like everything makes sense now. they’ve always had your backs, and now it feels like they’re rooting for you even harder.

"we never wanted to push," hanni finally says, her voice soft, almost apologetic. "we figured you two just needed time."

danielle nods along, her eyes a little glossy, while haerin sits quietly, processing it all. hyein, surprisingly, offers a small smile, "i’m glad you guys worked it out."

you and minji exchange another look, this time a lighter one. something close to peace settles over you both, like a burden’s been lifted now that the truth is out there. it feels good to be understood, to no longer have to hide the past or the pain from the people closest to you.

this isn’t like before—and that’s a good thing. there’s no going back to what was, because now you’re both different, stronger, and this version of “normal” is something you’d choose over and over again. you’ll grow alongside minji, hand in hand, side by side, and she’ll be growing with you too.

you wouldn’t trade anything in the world for this.

—-

"you called?"

“texted, but close enough,” you respond with a smirk. minji rolls her eyes playfully before plopping onto your bed, looking at you curiously. 

“did you need something?” she asks, her voice soft but carrying a hint of amusement.

“i just remembered something,” you say, moving toward the bed. “i wanted to show you it—give it to you before your shoot. you said you had to leave in twenty, right? well, i found this while i was organizing things."

“what is it?” she asks, her curiosity piqued. her eyes follow your movements as you crouch down, pulling a slightly worn shoe box from under the bed.

you smile as you open the lid, revealing a collection of small mementos—photos, letters, and trinkets that instantly stir up memories for both of you. minji leans closer, her eyes widening slightly when she recognizes some of the items.

“i never threw anything out,” you explain, voice tinged with a hint of nostalgia. “i couldn’t. i remember you gave me two copies of this because you couldn’t keep one at your place while we were both trainees. i’ve always kept it… never really looked at it after everything, though… after i…”

your voice trails off, the weight of that unfinished sentence hanging in the air. minji, understanding without needing an explanation, moves from the bed and sits beside you on the floor. her shoulder presses against yours, a silent comfort.

you reach into the box, pulling out a photo strip. it’s from one of your dates, back when things were simpler, when everything felt new. you flip it over, revealing four small photos in sequence. the first has your cheeks pressed together, wide smiles on both your faces. in the second, you’re both forming a heart with your hands. the third shows minji kissing your cheek, and the last one has you kissing hers. your smile deepens as you hand it to her.

minji stares at the strip, her fingers lightly tracing the edges of the photos. her expression softens, caught between disbelief and tenderness. you two were so young back then, but the love captured in the pictures is unmistakable—just like the love that still exists between you now. she glances at you, her gaze full of warmth.

“now you can keep it,” you say, voice gentle, “without worrying about anyone taking it from you.”

“y/n…” minji whispers, her voice so quiet, so filled with awe. she hugs you tightly, and before you know it, she's covering your face with kisses, one after the other, until finally, she presses her lips to yours in a long, tender kiss that feels like everything you've been holding back for so long.

“i seriously love you so much,” she breathes out when she pulls away, her forehead resting against yours.

“i love you more,” you reply, grinning.

“more than timbits?” she teases, raising a brow.

you giggle, poking her cheek. “don’t get ahead of yourself now.”

[thegoogoomuckkk]

NOW PLAYING

BREAKFAST, LUNCH, & DINNER PT. 1

Starring: Choso Kamo, Kento Nanami, Kiyotaka Ijichi, Sukuna Ryomen, Toji Fushiguro

The JJK men tend to have a healthy appetite when it comes to you

Warnings! oral (f receiving), overstimulation, praise, face-sitting, fingering, male masturbation, ass-play, degradation

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

Choso Kamo: Determined <3

Choso maybe does a little bit too much research. He’s heard that some women don’t necessarily like getting head as much as other things. He can’t fathom this because you sucking his dick is about the most pleasurable thing he can think of besides being stuffed inside your cunt. Regardless, he wants to do his very best to make sure this is as pleasurable for you as it is for him; he’s just so concerned he’ll do a bad job. & it makes no difference how much you assure him that “you don’t have to if you don’t want to, sweetie,” & that even if he does do a bad job, you won’t be upset. No, that only encourages him that he needs to make this as good as possible. So when he finally makes up his mind, he’ll let you know as straightforward as usual, probably a text that has you choking on your coffee at 10:00am: “I want to eat you out tonight Y/N.” Straight to the point, as usual. & of course you’re excited, but a swirl of nervousness begins coiling in your stomach. Last time he had his head between your thighs, he was there for hours. 

He doesn’t like it when you talk, especially coherently, that means he’s not doing his job. “Faster? But when I go faster with my cock you cry. . .” “It feels good right, baby? Am I doing good?” “Shhh, s’okay, know you can cum for me again, pretty girl, don’t you wanna cum? I love it when you cum on my tongue, just for me.”

He tries to praise you, mimic the sweet things you say to him when you’re jerking him off or riding his cock, but he’s almost as fucked out as you are, & the praise never seems to sound as good spilling from his lips as it does from yours—at least, that’s what he thinks. But his soft spoken, sweet words cause your cunt to pulse against his tongue, so he tries for you anyways; tries anything, because if it gets you off, makes you feel even a fraction as good as you make him feel, he’s more than willing to do it!

He’s the type to eat you out until he loses track of time, cumming in his own pants once or twice, he doesn’t even need to put his cock in you. & it isn’t until you’re cross-eyed, sweaty, voice hoarse, & crying for him that he even considers stopping. “Did it feel good?” If you had any energy, you’d smack him upside the head. 

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

Kento Nanami: Generous <3

If you were to ask Nanami what his favorite thing to do in bed was, it would be–hands-down, without a doubt, easily—eating you out. Of course, he’s a service top until the day he dies, but it’s more than that; he genuinely derives pleasure from making you feel good. After a long day of work, he comes home exhausted, bags under his eyes, muscles sore, & you’re thinking what you could do to make him feel better: a nice shower, a massage, & maybe—if he’d let you—sucking his dick. You’re pretty pleased with yourself about this little plan until you’ve got him in the bedroom, heading to the bathroom to turn on the shower & he’s tugging on your arm, pulling you down on the bed & wordlessly working off your pants. 

“Kento? Don’t you wanna shower first?” 

He shakes his head, “need to taste you, sweetheart, need it.” 

He hooks his arms under your knees, pulling your legs up & over his broad shoulders, making himself comfortable, in for the long haul.

His favorite is when you’ve sat down on him, hands gripping the headboard, mindlessly grinding against his face, chasing your own pleasure, head empty.  You feel bad sometimes, sitting on his face, or grinding your cunt against him, squeezing your thighs around his head, pulling his hair, but if anything, this adds to his enjoyment of it. He could sit with his head between your legs for as long as you’ll let him, & you always let him because he’s just so damn good at it; you don’t have to tell him what you want, what you need, because he already knows. 

He sticks his tongue into your tight hole, relishing, moaning at the way it spasms around it, working a finger in alongside it, curling it up to that special spot that has you throwing your head back & whining his name. Sucking on your clit, almost meanly because he knows, he knows, how overstimulated you are, how it hurts so good. 

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

Kiyotaka Ijichi: Desperate <3

“You-you taste so good, pretty girl, s’good, please, n-no, don’t gotta run from it,” he whines as you attempt to rock your hips up off the bed, obviously grinding his hips onto the bed, hoping you won’t notice. He’s just so eager, he needs you to cum against his face just one more time. He’s whining like a poor puppy when you pull on his hair. Pathetic moans fill the air, & you’re losing it because there’s no technique, no method to the madness, just pure, sheer, utter desperation. & he’s apologizing into your soaking cunt as he ruts into the bed through his orgasm, potentially gaining more pleasure from this than you. It was always so easy to make Kiyotaka feel good, just your moans of “more, more, so good, Kiyo” had him whining into your pussy, palming his sore dick through his boxers. 

What he lacks in skill, he makes up for in eagerness; eager is the perfect word for the way Kiyotaka eats you, tongue lying flat over & over on your slit, tongue slipping in & out of your puckering hole, thumb circling your clit constantly, overwhelming your poor cunt. 

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

Sukuna Ryomen: Aloof <3

It was rare that Sukuna ate you out, not because he doesn’t like it, don’t get it twisted, but it’s so vulnerable of him, & he can’t fully control himself when he’s between your legs. He’s contrastingly gently, savoring every inch of you, alternating between sucking on your thighs, teasing you to no end, & assaulting your clit with his tongue & his fingers. He loves to have your hips in his hands, manhandling you how he wants, fingertips leaving bruises on your waist, growling when you whine out, “w-wait ‘Kuna, s’too much,” because “Isn’t this what you wanted in the first place?” 

Maybe you had wanted this, but you hadn’t expected him to go on for so long. You couldn’t remember a time when you’d seen Sukuna have any form of patience, barely even prepping you before bullying his cocks into you, but here he was, taking his time with you, not even worried about his own pleasure, too enchanted by your honeyed pussy, just begging for him. 

He’ll never tell you this, but his favorite time to eat you out is when you’re on your period; he’ll disguise it by saying that it makes your scent stronger, but really he just wants to ease your pain & make you feel better.

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

Toji Fushiguro: Rug Muncher <3

God, he’s an asshole. Don’t get it wrong, he loves eating that sweet cunt of yours, but he also loves nothing more than teasing you. He’s got you on your knees, upper body resting on the sheets, pressing the chastest of kisses on your thighs, your folds, hands slowly gripping your ass, spreading it open for him, swirling his tongue around your puckered hole just above your pussy, pushing a finger in even though he knows you’re cunt is aching for him. He’ll get there. . .eventually. 

“Nghh—n-no, Toji, n-not there,” you whine, trying to pull away from his finger, but he just pushes it in deeper. 

“Not there? Where d’ya want in then, princess?” & fuck it, he knows where you want it, but he just can’t get over how perfect you are like this: needy, desperate, unabashed. You’re not afraid to beg for what you want. But he doesn’t give you time to ask. “You sure you aren’t just pretending not to like it? ‘Cause your pussy clenches every time I put my finger in here.” He laughs meanly, but then he’s sticking his tongue in your pussy, licking fat stripes front to back, spitting on it, shaking his head all up in it. Toji likes it when you give him messy head, & so of course he likes to return the favor.

You’re reaching down to rub your clit while he’s taking his sweet time getting you off & then he’s swatting your hand away because you’re gonna take what he gives you or get nothing at all.

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

no, your honor, i don't believe in writing ooc headcanons. . .

LOOKING FOR SOME MORE? MASTERLIST <3

LOOKING FOR SOMETHING SPECIFIC? ASK <3

[gguk-n]

Hello!! I love your writing style!!

Can you pls do a max verstappen x reader but he’s still into Kelly max is sorry, reader disappeared goes to Korea gets together with jungkook plus now she’s a successful CEO n 2 yrs later she comes back as a baddie fans love her n max regrets

It’s set in 2021 comes back in 2024

P.s make her friends with Charles n Lewis

Thank you hope u take this in consideration

This ask was made in my dreams🥹🥹 thank you to the beautiful nonnie for sending this. I made this as an smau and some writing. I had so much fun making this!!!🫣🫣 hope you enjoy reading this too🥹🥹 changed the timeline a little bit for the story. Max is an ass, sorry. I love Max really but the story needed it

Drifting Into Love

Face Claim- Kim Hye yoon. (Every thing is fiction)

Max was back the next day. Y/N returned from Belgium and was waiting for Max in her apartment in Monaco. Max was one of the very few people who knew that Y/N came from wealth. Her parents had raised her humbly in hopes that the money won't get to her head and she would be a kind and compassionate human. Right now, she felt anything but kind. She felt like smashing Max to a pulp. How dare he lie to her and who does he think he is to humiliate her like this. If he loved her, he should've stayed with her, she thought.

Max stumbled into her house in a panic. "Schat, why are you here?" Max asked trying to hug her. "What do you mean?" she asked. "I mean't why aren't you home?" he asked. She chuckled. "Max, I will not be in a cheater's house, god knows who all you've brought over." she said shaking her head. "I never brought anyone home. And as for Kelly this was a prior arrangement and I couldn't get out of it" he reasoned. "Then you should've told me. I would've come along. But you lied, you knew what you were doing is wrong, that's why you lied to me." she retaliated. "I, Y/N, schat....please" he stuttered. "You have nothing to say Max, also don't call me that. I'm not your girlfriend." she said. "Don't say that" Max said. "I don't care if you love Kelly, I just wish you hadn't lied to me." she lamented. "I'm sorry, I'll do better. I promise" he tried reasoning. "Max, you don't need to. You clearly still love her. I do not plan on being a home wrecker. I hope you both are happy" Y/N said. "Won't you fight for this? our relationship" he asked now in tears. "No, we stopped being a couple the moment you went back to her" she said with a stoic expression. "I'm sorry. You deserve better" Max said hoping she would stay. "I agree. Now can you leave, I have some work to do" she said ushering Max out.

Unbeknownst to Max, she had cried. The all of yesterday, really and Charles and Lewis were ready to kill Max. She some how convinced them not to. They had spent the whole night consoling her and taking care as she tried to mend her broken heart.

y/n.y/l/n

Liked by charles_leclerc, lewishamilton and 23,976 others

y/n.y/l/n Don't forget to take out the trash🙏🙏

user17 What is going on?? Is this related to Max??😭😭 user18 She said, I ain't no one's second choice🫣🫣 user19 She's so pretty!! I wish I was her❤️❤️ charles_leclerc We can take it out for you👀 lewishamilton me and Charles are great at waste disposal. I can compost too🙂 user20 What does Lewis mean by that??They are scaring me🙃🙃 user21 I think she broke up with Max and obviously her best friends hate him, he cheated on their angel.😳😳 user22 I would also compost a man if he cheated on my bestie, I get it lewishamilton 😤😤

y/n.y/l/n

Liked by charles_leclerc, lewishamilton and 289,297 others

y/n.y/l/n Gonna miss my fav photographer🫣😘😍

user23 That photographer is doing us all a service😍😍 user24 I didn't know she could look prettier🥹❤️❤️ user25 The first photo will no one talk about it🤨😳😳 arthur_leclerc Are those hands that photographers?🤔🤔 charles_leclerc arthur_leclerc what do you know?😩😩 lewishamilton we have the cutest bestie, the photographer better not be a man😒 user26 I'm scared of having both Lewis and Charles as best friends, they are too over protective🤣🤣

y/n.y/l/n

Liked by charles_leclerc, lewishamilton and 1,297,229 others

y/n.y/l/n 보고 싶, 돌아와요오빠😭😭💜💜 miss you!! come back oppa

user27 eww!! Oppa you can't date her, you are supposed to end up with me🤮🤮 user28 I don't get what he saw in her??😒😒 user29 Fandom cleanse here I come🤣🤣 user30 She's so pretty. To bag Jungkook, I mean he has taste❤️❤️ charles_leclerc he's the mystery photographer?🤔 lewishamilton can't believe you didn't tell me😤😤 y/n.y/l/n lewishamilton in my defence, you are scary but my boyfriend could take you out ☺️😉 user31 I love the brother sister dynamic Lewis and Y/N have😂😂 user32 she hard launched the fuck out of her relationship❤️❤️🙏 user33 user32 she's staking her claim. I would too, if I was dating Jungkook💜💜😍

Y/N was walking towards the Ferrari when she bumped into Max. "Hello Max" she smiled. "Hi" he replied. "How have you been?" he asked. "Good. You?" she asked. "Good. Surprise to see you here" he said. "Yeah, my best friends said they missed me so.." she said. "Ah yes, Lewis and Charles" Max mulled. "I'll get going then" she announced. "No, wait" Max stopped her. "I'm sorry" he apologised. "For what?" she asked. "For hurting you. I really did like you." he explained. "me too." she lamented. "Can't we try again" he proposed. She let out a big and loud laugh, making Max embarrassed and heads turn. "Sorry Max, but that ship sailed long ago. Aren't you still with Kelly, though?" she asked. Max didn't say anything. "Don't flip flop, love a woman correctly and truly. Also, I'm engaged." she said pointed at her left hand which had a beautiful large diamond on the ring finger which looked like it had found it's rightful owner. "Wish you good luck and Congratulations on the championship last year" she called out while she walked away. Max could only stare at her as she disappeared from his sight.

[leovenuslatina]

𝒍𝒆𝒕'𝒔 𝒈𝒆𝒕 𝒊𝒕 𝒐𝒏 ✶⋆.˚

⋆.˚⟡ ࣪ ˖

THIS READING IS 18+ MDNI

⁺˚⋆｡°✩₊✩°｡⋆˚⁺

💓what you FS does to turn you on💓

⁺˚⋆｡°✩₊✩°｡⋆˚⁺

-trying something new here-

₊˚⊹ ᰔ౨ৎ₊this is just a reminder that tarot isn’t permanent or set in stone YOU decide how your life goes no one or nothing else now take a deep breath and choose the pile that calls to you ₊˚⊹ ᰔ౨ৎ₊˚⊹

(dont worry i’m still answering asks ill just i’m sending them privately now)

💋 tip ur reader 💋

₊✩‧₊˚౨ৎ˚₊✩‧₊ ₊✩‧₊˚౨ৎ˚₊✩‧₊ ₊✩‧₊˚౨ৎ˚₊✩‧₊

₊✩‧₊˚౨ৎ˚₊✩‧₊ ₊✩‧₊˚౨ৎ˚₊✩‧₊ ₊✩‧₊˚౨ৎ˚₊✩‧₊

Pile One - Ace of Wands, Wheel of Fortune, Knight of Wands, Six of Pentacles

⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡

- Right off the bat your FS is always horny i don’t even know what it is it could be you or it could be that they just have so much pent up energy and you’re the only one he feels comfortable letting it all out with.

- there’s so much wand energy here and i keep hearing that song “thinking with my d!6k” like literally he just cannot keep it in his pants for you.

- to turn you on he gets all up in your space he’ll come up behind you and grind himself on you make sure you feel just how excited or horny he is for you

- your FS will whisper all the things he wants to do to you and what he wants you to do to him he’s very good at telling you what to do. very dominant

- your FS will give you gentle touches all over your body he’ll tell you how pretty or gorgeous you are and how much he’s so in love with you

- he’s very obsessed with being touchy-feely with you to turn you on

- he may even give you long massages to turn you on. he’ll probably want to relax FA you and make you guys feel close he wants you to know that it’s not just about sex when the two of you are being intimate he genuinely just loves being close to you 🥹💓

- to turn you on he’ll hold you very close he’ll definitely loveeeeeee love love having you in his lap. i just keep seeing his hands all over you. squeezing and touching and grabbing at whatever they can.

- i’m also getting your FS is such a freaking tease ! to turn you on your FS will literally touch you all over EXCEPT for exactly where you need him most.

⋅───⊱༺ ♰ ༻⊰───⋅

Pile Two - Page of Wands,Queen of Wands, The Fool, Judgment

ᡣ𐭩₊˚.⋆⁺₊

- Your Fs is very golden retriever vibes when they wanna turn you on there’s sloppy kisses all over your face and neck they’ll tell you how much they love and miss you and how they want to be near you and in you.

- their hands will be all over you trying their hardest to get your close off when he’s wants you to want him they’ll be so rushed to get you under them

- the two of you will have a very exciting and active sexual relationship and you’ll always be all over each other people around you think it’s gross but you guys are just so physically attractive to each other.

- to turn you on your future spouse will use your kinks and fantasies to his advantage he knows them very well because he knows you very well and use them to get you in the mood

- they’ll use your fantasies and kinks to get in your head and make you melt under him

- Pile 2 your FS will take turning you on as a game (not in a bad way) they’ll think it’s so easy to get you all excited and needy for him.

- they take a really relaxed approach to turning you on he likes to take his time he likes to make you feel as needy for him as he can as much as possible

- i think your FS knows you so so well that they’ll know all the little things that turn you on

- for example if you like his arms he’ll like roll his sleeves up slowly or if you like his voice he’ll whisper random things in your ear you know just to get you going

⋅───⊱༺ ♰ ༻⊰───⋅

Pile Three - Justice, King of Cup, Page of Cups

⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅

- Your FS IS FINE ASF 😤😤 like literally straight outta romance novels like riding on a white horse shirtless kind hot 🥵

- they’re very equal when it comes to freakin anything you do to them they’ll wanna do to you but 10000x better

- i think you’ll always be pretty turned on when you’re with or around your partner just because of how beautiful they but to get you going anymore they’ll pretty much follow your lead

- your Fs is the type of person to mirror you exactly they won’t do anything they think you don’t like or aren’t 100% into

- Your FS may or may not be your first sexual encounter or partner if so they teach you and show you what kinda things you like and they’ll help you explore your sexuality in all ways

- if your FS isn’t your first time they will definitely be your best and will show you just how good sex can be

- To turn you on your FS they will massage you calm you down relax you.

- you maybe the kind of person that has a specific set of needs before hopping right into bed and your FS will be very understanding about that

- Your FS Will always make sure you’re comfortable and happy and consenting before getting anything started

- Your FS is very understanding about any sort of situation you come from they won’t judge you or make you feel bad for your past or anything you make like or want him to do for you or with you.

⋅───⊱༺ ♰ ༻⊰───⋅

[luveline]

do you think you could do something with zombie au where reader is on her period? thank you!!

thank you for your request! fem, 1k

You’ve gotten your period three times since the apocalypse began. The first time, you and Steve were just beginning to get along, and he’d proved why you trust him as you do, treating the whole thing with kindness. More recently, he’s your unofficial boyfriend. Like, kissing you and holding you, but foregoing the conversation that would make you an official couple. 

Either he doesn’t want to be official (which is fine, it’s not like he’s going anywhere), or you’re official without words. You’ve assumed the latter because the former makes you nauseous. 

Not that you need much help in that department. Your stomach churns like a tide, bouts of sickness and pain that hit you rampantly as you follow Steve downstairs. 

“Can I take my shoes off?” you ask. 

“Why are you asking me? It’s not my house.” Steve descends the last step and holds his hand behind him for you. Seemingly to help you down a step you don’t need help with. 

You’re asking because taking your shoes off means getting comfy for the night, and he doesn’t want to do that at every house you break into.

You don’t explain yourself. You follow Steve into the living room, hoping he’s going to take your hand again. He nudges you with his hip into a mildly dusty couch. 

You sit. “What, are we gonna watch TV?” you joke. 

“You look sickly.” 

That’s not nice. “I do?” you ask, all teasing gone from your tone. You often wish you were much prettier, and occasionally beg fate to drop a bottle of medical grade body wash into your lap, if just to make Steve see you that way. But Steve’s kissed you with a greasy nose and blood on your chin. You were hoping appearances didn’t matter. 

“You look awful,” he says, his eyebrows stitching together as he heads into the kitchen. “Stay sat down!” 

“Awful?” you ask. 

He doubles back, face peeking around the doorway. “Not like that,” he says hurriedly. “Just, sick. I’m gonna cook you something.” 

“I don’t need to be sat down, I’m fine.” 

He disappears again. “That why you’re glaring at me?” he calls, his voice echoing against tile. 

You don’t have the energy for whatever it is that’s happening. You kick your legs out on the couch and begin kneading the swollen mess that is your stomach, debating on telling him why you’re grumpy. It’s not like he cares. He never finds it gross, but you don’t want him to pity you either. It’s just a period. 

(It really sucks.) 

“Alright, the hot plate is on,” he calls. “What do you want, huh? We got the split pea soup, or the chicken casserole?” He laughs. “The casserole, duh. Ten minutes and it’s yours.” 

Your breath rushes out through your nose. Stomach hurts, head hurts, he’s making you dinner and laughing where you can’t see him. You force yourself to get up, shuffling to the kitchen with a pout already in place. 

“Ten minutes is not right,” you say, announcing your movement so he doesn’t stab you. 

“Is too right. How come you never listen?” 

“Steve, please don’t be mean to me, I’m on my period.” You wince as a pang climbs your back. 

“Oh, you are?” 

“Unfortunately.” 

“Well… I’m glad, sort of. Better that then the flu, right?” 

“Yeah, I guess.” 

A couple of weeks ago, he would’ve told you to go back to the couch, and he would’ve brought your food in to you, wrapping a blanket over your legs and leaving you to it. But this is now. Your unwilling protector has gone remarkably soft on you. 

“Is it like last time?” he asks, holding out his arm. 

You drift toward him, pretending it isn’t to be hugged. “It hurts, if that’s what you mean.” 

“It hurts,” he repeats in a murmur as his arm finally curls around your waist. He pulls you into his side.

“You’re pitying me.” 

“You like it,” he jokes, his tone still held in that soft murmuring. 

You close your eyes, driving your nose into his chest. The hot plate gurgles weakly on the stove, using the last of a canister of camping gas, a few days from the end of its life. Your eyelids feel heavy closed, achy not with tears but fatigue, and your head aches with a migraine you know from experience won’t be defeated using tylenol. But Steve hugs you with one arm and leans against you as you press into him. Stuck together. He doesn’t move for ages. 

“I’m glad I don’t get my period,” he says. 

“You act like you do.” 

“Were you not gonna tell me? I guess you don’t have to, but if you’re in pain, I’d like to know.” 

“Don’t need you to feel any more sorry for me.” 

“I don’t. Just like rubbing your back.” 

Your heart skips a beat. That’s as close to a confession of feelings you’ve ever gotten from him. Well, verbally. His sporadic kissing says a lot. 

“Thanks for telling me,” he says. You have to strain your ears to hear him. “I don’t think there’s much iron in chicken casserole. I wish we… How much iron is there in squirrel?” 

“I don’t wanna eat squirrel.” Again. 

“It’s good for you.” 

Doubtful. You turn completely into his touch and hug him. “Please don’t make me eat squirrel.” 

You sound a teeny tiny bit pitiful, and you earn yourself an even better hug than the first. “I won’t, I won’t, I was just kidding,” he promises, “I just figure you need it. Maybe if we look through the medicine cabinet they’ll have some multivitamins or something.” His hand grabs at your side. It’s not a careful touch, though he’s far from spiteful. “You need painkillers, right? I could crush a Vicodin into your casserole.” 

“Yes, please.” 

Steve’s nose presses into the side of your face. You feel close to him in a way that chokes you up, but you don’t need to talk any more. 

“Half a Vicodin,” he deliberates, “and I’ll rub your back.”

[homunculus-argument]

Okay, so I promised a tutorial on the leather cuff things so here it goes: under the cut because this is going to be a long one

Anyway, first you're going to need a strip of leather (I used a cut of my old belt, the cut-ups in it are not necessary, they're just there because it used to be a studded belt before I pried the studs out and put them on my new belt)

a slightly larger piece of any soft fabric (I used a strip ripped off an old tattduvet cover)

Needle, thread, some proper fabric scissors, sewing tools in general

A lot more soda can tabs than you'd think, and some broken jewellery chain if you like

two pairs of snap buttons

a box cutter (not pictured because I forgor)

And first, take the leather strip and cut the fabric strip to be slightly larger - you can trim it later. Sew them together. If you aren't 100% sure how to do that right, please go ask someone who knows, I have no idea what I'm doing and it probably shows.

Then sew the stick-out half of the snap buttons on one end. It should look better than this, but if it looks like this, don't cry. Nobody but you is going to see this side. Then curve it over to the position it will be when it's done, and mark the parts where the snaps touch the places where you'll cut the holes.

Yeah you heard me right, you're gonna have to cut holes in that motherfucker to get the other end of the snap buttons there. Somebody smarter would probably have done this beforehand or something, but I am not a smart man.

And now that they are there (don't cry if it's ugly, it's ok to be messy and kind of fucked up on the inside for as long as the outside functions), we'll be getting to the decoration part. Next up: tab chain making!

[anniebeemine]

okay, big brown eyes, whatever you say- s.r. x reader

“Why don’t you ever argue with me?”

The question catches you off guard. You glance at Spencer, who’s standing there, awaiting your answer, his brow slightly furrowed as if he’s been pondering this for a while. You blink a few times, shrugging casually as you settle back against the couch.

“There’s nothing to argue about,” you say, the words coming out simple, matter-of-fact.

But Spencer doesn’t like your response. You can see it in the way his shoulders tense and the way his lips press into a thin line. He crosses his arms, his eyes shifting away from you and toward the floor as he runs a hand through his hair.

“I know you hate it when I leave my socks everywhere,” he says, his voice quieter but insistent. “And when I leave the dishes next to the sink instead of in it. I see you tense up when I do it, but you never say anything. Why don’t you just tell me?”

You’re trying to stay engaged in the conversation, but your focus begins to drift. The way the sunlight streams through the window, casting a warm glow on Spencer, draws your attention. His face is lit up in such a way that it highlights the specks of hazel in his eyes, the soft planes of his cheekbones, and the curve of his lips as he speaks.

He looks so beautiful when he talks, even when he's frustrated. There’s something about the way he’s so earnest, so concerned about something as mundane as socks and dishes that makes you smile. You love how much he cares, even when it’s over the little things.

Before you know it, you're smiling at him without even realizing it.

“Why are you smiling at me like that?” Spencer’s voice breaks through your thoughts, snapping you back to the conversation.

Your gaze shifts back to his face, and you realize you’ve completely drifted off into your own world.

“I, uh,” you stammer, feeling your cheeks flush slightly, “I wasn’t... I mean, I was listening, but...”

“But you’re smiling,” he says, confused but amused, his frustration beginning to soften. He raises an eyebrow, leaning in a bit closer. “What’s going on in that head of yours?”

You bite your lip, trying to gather your thoughts. “I was just... I don’t know, I was thinking about how much I love you. You’re standing there all serious, trying to figure out why I don’t argue with you about socks and dishes, and I just... I love that you care about that. And I got distracted by how good you look in the sunlight.”

Spencer’s expression softens even more, a small, lopsided smile tugging at the corners of his lips. He shakes his head slightly, but there’s a warmth in his eyes now. “You’re impossible, you know that?”

“I know,” you reply with a grin, feeling the tension from the conversation melt away.

“But seriously,” he says, his tone gentler now as he sits down beside you. “You can tell me when something bothers you. I don’t want you to feel like you have to hold it all in just because you don’t want to argue.”

You lean into him, resting your head against his shoulder. “I know. And I promise I’ll try to be better about that. But sometimes... it’s not worth arguing over. I just enjoy being with you, and the little things don’t matter as much when I think about how much you mean to me.”

Spencer wraps an arm around you, pulling you closer. “Well, if that’s the reason, I guess I can live with a few unspoken complaints about my socks.”

You chuckle softly. “Just a few.”

[reidmania]

soon, you’ll get better | s. reid

summary; when spencer decides to get help for his addiction, you are right by his side the entire time, even when you are both more scared than you’ll admit.

warnings; fem!reader, early seasons spencer (s2) mentions of addiction, withdrawals, getting help, hurt x comfort, its kinda really fluffy though, mentions of tobias hankel, references possible overdosing, (nobody overdoses, reader is just afraid of it happening) this is comfort, pure spencer comfort tbh.

an; heart BROKEN guys. this one hurt. remember you are not alone.

‘I'll paint the kitchen neon, I'll brighten up the sky, I know I'll never get it, there's not a day that I won't try. And I'll say to you, soon you'll get better, soon you'll get better, you'll get better soon, 'cause you have to. And I hate to make this all about me but who am i supposed to talk to? What am i supposed to do, if theres no you?’

You sit beside him, your hand resting gently on his, feeling the tension pulsing through his skin. Spencer's fingers twitch, as though his body is having a silent argument with itself—one part of him wants to hold on to you, to feel your comfort, and the other part is restless, needing something more than your touch can provide. You know what that something is. It’s been between the two of you for weeks now, an unspoken weight that has grown heavier with each passing day.

The hospital waiting room is quiet, but inside your head, it feels deafening. Your eyes flicker to the clock on the wall. The seconds drag on, and you know he feels every single one of them. You squeeze his hand lightly, drawing his attention back to you. His eyes meet yours, wide and anxious, a storm of emotions swirling in their depths. You see it all—the fear, the shame, the self-loathing. But beyond that, buried underneath, you still see the man you love.

"You're doing the right thing," you whisper, your voice soft, barely louder than the ticking clock.

He swallows hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing. His lips part, but no words come out. You don’t push him. You’ve learned that sometimes, silence is safer for him. His mind is always moving, always analyzing, always thinking ten steps ahead, but right now, he’s fragile. His brilliance can’t help him here. And that’s what scares him the most.

You lean in, pressing your forehead against his, grounding him in the moment. “I’m so proud of you,” you say, and you feel him exhale, just slightly. The warmth of his breath touches your lips, and for a brief second, you feel that connection again—the one that always makes you believe everything will be okay, as long as you're together.

It was difficult, sitting here and pretending like you weren’t scared. You were, you wondered if you had a right to be scared. Spencer was the love of your life, you had never once questioned that — and seeing him like this, well it wasn’t easy. Being here, wasn’t easy.

Spencer closes his eyes, a shudder running through his body. He grips your hand tighter, the pressure almost painful, but you don’t pull away. You want him to know you’re here, that you’re not going anywhere. Not now. Not ever.

A nurse walks by, and Spencer's eyes snap open, his body stiffening. You can feel his heart rate spike, the anxiety flaring up again.

“I can’t,” he mutters, shaking his head. His voice is tight, strangled, like he’s holding back something that threatens to choke him.

“Yes, you can,” you reply gently, running your thumb over his knuckles in slow, soothing circles. “Please.”

It was a plea, a genuine plea. You tried to be strong for his sake, he needed someone. You were his person, you would always be. But he was also your person — and the idea that if he didn’t get help you could lose him one way or another terrified you. It caused a genuine ache in your chest at just the thought of him not being him, or not being around at all. You couldn’t lose him, not at the hands of tobias hankel.

He stares at you, searching your face for something—maybe reassurance, maybe strength. You aren’t sure if he finds it, but he nods, his breath coming out in shaky bursts.

The doctor calls his name. The sound makes him flinch, and for a moment, you think he might bolt. You can see it in his posture, the way his muscles tense, his body preparing to flee. But then your hand tightens around his, and he looks at you again. And you know he’s staying because of you.

Together, you stand, and you walk beside him as he follows the doctor into the office. His steps are slow, reluctant, but each one is a small victory. When you sit down in the small room, the doctor’s eyes flicker between the two of you—taking in Spencer’s pale, trembling form and the way you hold onto him as if he might disappear.

The doctor speaks softly, his voice calm and measured. You hear him explain the treatment plan, the options for managing withdrawal, the therapy that Spencer will need. It all sounds clinical, distant, like the words are coming from a place Spencer can’t quite reach.

You glance at him, watching the way his jaw clenches and unclenches, the way his eyes dart around the room, not settling on anything for too long. His mind is miles away, you can tell. But you’re here, anchored in this moment for both of you.

“Spence,” you say softly, turning to face him. He doesn’t respond at first, lost in the cacophony of his own thoughts. So, you reach out, brushing your fingers against his cheek. His eyes snap back to you, and you see the vulnerability in them, the sheer weight of everything he’s been carrying.

“We’ll take it one step at a time,” you remind him. “We’ll get through this. Together.”

His lower lip trembles, and for a second, you think he might cry. But he doesn’t. Spencer’s never been one to break easily, even when he should. You wish he would sometimes, just so he wouldn’t have to hold it all inside.

The doctor gives you both a moment, stepping out of the room to let the words sink in. Spencer drops his head into his hands, his shoulders slumping as though the world is pressing down on him with all its weight.

“I don’t deserve you,” he whispers, his voice barely audible.

You scoot closer, pulling him into your arms, cradling his head against your chest. His body relaxes, just a little, as if the touch of your skin can quiet the chaos in his mind.

“You deserve everything good in this world,” you tell him, stroking his hair gently. “And I’m not going anywhere.”

“I’m broken,” he breathes, the words thick with self-reproach.

You shake your head, holding him tighter. “You’re not broken, Spence. You’re just…hurting. And that’s okay. You’ll get better. You have to.”

Maybe it was a plea, maybe reassurance, you weren’t even sure. Spencer was single handedly the strongest person you knew, he didn’t deserve what had happened to him — nobody did. The signs had been there for a while, you noticed the change instantly and you tried to brush it off as him coping, but when it got to the point where you knew there was more, without a doubt — you had the conversation.

It took some convincing, and a few weeks before he even approached the idea — he denied for a while. You let him. You could only help him as much as he allowed you to, but then when he nudged you gently in bed one night and broke down — he wanted help, and you were happy to provide him with as much as you could, which also meant getting more help.

His arms wrap around your waist, clinging to you as though you’re his lifeline. And in a way, you are. But you know he’s yours too. You’ve never loved anyone the way you love Spencer—so deeply, so completely. He’s flawed, yes. But so are you.

When the doctor returns, you help Spencer sit up, though he keeps one hand resting on your knee, as if needing to stay tethered to you. You listen carefully as the doctor outlines the next steps, and this time, Spencer listens too. He’s scared, you can tell, but he’s fighting. For himself. For you. For what you both have.

And when you leave the office, walking back through the waiting room, you feel a shift. It’s subtle, almost imperceptible, but it’s there. Spencer’s steps are still hesitant, still burdened, but there’s a determination now. He’s facing it. He’s facing himself. And you’re right there beside him, as you always will be.

As you step out into the crisp evening air, Spencer pauses. He turns to you, his eyes soft, vulnerable, but this time, there’s a flicker of hope.

“I love you,” he says quietly, the words shaky but sincere.

You smile, your heart swelling. “I love you too.”

And in that moment, with the world quiet around you, “You will get better Spence.”