📺 SAFE HAVEN ( Stray Kids )

afjdkgnxhrgvxh i will never get over how good your writing is!!! and I definitely did not expect you to do both requests!!!

i also love all of the heroes, at this point i might as well ask for a fic for the rest of them… it could even be an ot6 fic if you like (but only if you’re comfortable and have the physical and mental capacity to do that, if not no worries!!)

- 🍀

HI 🍀!! I'm so happy you enjoyed it!! Whenever I get more than one request in one message (or by the same person, for that matter), I always try to complete all of them if I can. I just don't like the feeling of doing things halfway. So, here you go!

Oh, I'd be so down to write for all of the members! For that, however, I might need a little more details on what you want for each of them. So if you can give me that, I'll be more than happy to get to work! (Just an FYI, if you request a threesome, I'd be down to write that as well if that's your cup of tea ── but I will only do it if it's just two members + reader; any more than that becomes overwhelming and difficult to write properly).

Also, a little tip! Since you're asking for OT6, I might take a little bit longer than I have so far. BUT! If you send me each member individually or send two or three per request, I might get around to writing them faster. It'll also help me with not posting six fics at the same time, or having them posted one per day since it can make my blog a little cluttered. If you can do any of these, I would really appreciate it!

Again, thank you so much for the support! Your requests genuinely make me so happy since they really allow me to indulge in writing pieces for our Heroes!!

⨳ ❛𝐓𝐈𝐋𝐋 𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐑 𝐅𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐒 𝐀𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓

❛ In which two disabled idols find comfort in each other’s arms.

𝐡𝐚𝐧 𝐣𝐢𝐬𝐮𝐧𝐠 + female reader ೯ ( 𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 ) 3.1k

꒰ 💌 ꒱ ミ I hope you guys enjoy, reblogs and feedback are much appreciated! ── ( 𝐥𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐲 )

𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: Han deals with a lot of anxiety and depression, reader has fibromyalgia, constant mentions of being in pain, love-making, cussing, lots of angst, MDNI.

( 𝐠𝐮𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐬 ) ( 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 & 𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬 ) ( 𝐢𝐧 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐠𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐬 ) ( 𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 )

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The following morning unfolded with an insistent chime of the doorbell that reverberated through the house, slicing through the tranquility of your sleep. Jolted awake, you wrestled with the disorienting shift from dreams to reality. Fragments of the previous day returned to you—the memory of your mother’s promise to fetch groceries and the knowledge that your father would be off to his shop in the morning. Reluctantly, you peeled yourself from the bed, draping a red, silky robe over your shoulders. The robe, soft and flowing, brushed against your ankles, offering a fleeting semblance of grace to your disheveled appearance. With a cursory glance at your reflection in the mirror, you did your best to present yourself with a semblance of poise before making your way down the old, creaking stairs.

Sleep had been elusive, marked by a restless night of shifting and turning as you sought comfort, each movement accompanied by sharp reminders of your physical discomfort. Now, each step down the stairs seemed to echo with the protest of your aching knees, their cries a testament to the night’s toll.

Peering through the peephole of the front door, you were met with an unexpected sight—Han Jisung, standing on your doorstep, his figure framed by the soft morning light. For a fleeting moment, you wondered if this was yet another of your mother’s elaborate schemes to meddle in your personal life. With a tentative hand, you unlatched the door.

Jisung’s face, flushed with a mix of embarrassment and nervousness, stood out against the serene morning backdrop. “I’m so sorry to intrude,” he stammered, his voice stumbling over his words in a cascade of apologies. “I didn’t mean to wake you. I—I just…”

“It’s alright,” you interjected gently, your voice carrying a trace of lingering sleep. “What brings you here?”

Jisung took a deep breath, visibly struggling to regain his composure. “I got your address from my mother. You left your cane at the café, and I wanted to return it.”

Your heart skipped a beat, a blend of mortification and unease swirling within you. The thought of Jisung possessing this personal detail about you was unsettling. Driven by a sudden impulse to manage the situation and avoid any potential awkwardness, you offered a hesitant invitation. “Would you like to come in for a moment?” you asked, your voice blending politeness with a hint of curiosity.

Jisung’s shoulders seemed to relax slightly as he stepped inside, though his nervousness was palpable. He shifted awkwardly from foot to foot, his movements reminiscent of a kitten exploring an unfamiliar room. “Thank you,” he murmured, his eyes darting around the space with evident unease.

As you guided him to the living room, you couldn’t help but notice his discomfort. “You seem a bit on edge,” you remarked with a gentle smile. “Is everything alright?”

Jisung forced a sheepish grin, his cheeks flushed with a delicate pink. “I didn’t anticipate that this morning visit would be so… nerve-wracking. I hope I didn’t disrupt anything important.”

“No, not at all,” you reassured him, striving to ease the tension. “I was just trying to catch up on some rest. You’re actually a welcome distraction.”

The two of you settled into the living room, Jisung clutching the cane with a mixture of relief and awkwardness. “I’m glad I could return this,” he said, his voice still tinged with nervousness. “I wasn’t sure if you’d be alright with me dropping by like this.”

Your gaze softened as you observed his discomfort, recognizing his sincere effort to make amends. “It’s very kind of you to come all this way,” you said warmly. “And don’t worry, I genuinely appreciate your thoughtfulness.”

In the quiet cocoon of the room, the earlier tension began to dissolve like mist in the morning sun. The weight of Jisung’s knowledge about your condition still fluttered anxiously in your chest, but the simple kindness he had extended offered a comforting balm. The unease that had colored the morning started to shift, giving way to a tentative warmth born from shared understanding.

“Would you like some tea?” you asked softly, your voice a gentle ripple in the stillness. You hoped the invitation would offer a welcome distraction, a brief escape from the lingering tension. “My mother’s garden is home to a rich variety of herbs,” you continued, your tone warm and inviting. “While I usually lean toward peppermint for its refreshing kick, today I’d recommend lavender. It’s incredibly soothing.” You met his gaze with a tender empathy, acknowledging the anxiety that seemed to cling to him without forcing the issue.

Jisung’s relief was almost palpable, his posture visibly relaxing as he gave a grateful nod. He watched as you moved with a graceful purpose into the kitchen, each step seeming fluid and deliberate.

The kitchen, bathed in the soft glow of morning light, embraced a serene quiet. Jisung’s eyes followed your every motion with a quiet reverence, taking in the delicate care you employed with each action. Despite your practiced ease, the teapot felt unusually heavy today, a subtle reminder of the burdens you carried.

Once the tea was steeped and ready, you both retreated to the dining room in contemplative silence. The soft breathing coming from the two of you were the only sounds until you broke the quiet with a hesitant question.

“So, um, you found my cane?” you asked, trying to sound casual while a trace of nervousness lingered in the air.

“Oh! Yes,” Jisung responded quickly, his voice laced with relief. “Don’t worry. I told my mother you’d left a hat. I won’t say a word about it.”

Your eyes widened in genuine surprise, a wave of gratitude washing over you. “Oh, that’s incredibly thoughtful of you. I really appreciate it.”

“Of course,” Jisung replied, his voice sincere yet tinged with lingering nervousness.

An awkward silence fell over you both, the air thick with unspoken thoughts. You cleared your throat, the words spilling out before you could fully gather your composure. “I, um, have this condition—”

Jisung’s gaze met yours with a depth of understanding, his voice gentle and reassuring. “You don’t have to explain if you don’t want to. I don’t want you to feel pressured. But if you do want to share, I’m here to listen.”

His sincerity cut through the tension, lifting a weight from your shoulders. The room, once heavy with discomfort, began to fill with a budding sense of connection. As you both patiently awaited your warm drinks, the silence transformed from awkwardness into a shared, comforting presence, bridging the gap between two souls navigating their way toward understanding.

The quiet between you was dense and contemplative. You hesitated, grappling with whether to reveal more of your story. Turning to face him, your eyes swept the room, which seemed to echo your solitude. The kettle’s gentle simmer served as a backdrop to the turmoil inside you.

“I have fibromyalgia,” you began slowly, your voice tinged with a quiet sadness. “It’s a rare condition, and many doctors are skeptical about its validity.”

Jisung’s eyes widened, curiosity and concern mingling in his gaze. “What is fibro… um…”

“Fibromyalgia,” you corrected softly, a faint chuckle escaping your lips. “It’s a chronic condition that causes widespread pain, fatigue, and tenderness in the muscles, ligaments, and tendons. It’s like a constant ache that shifts and varies.”

Jisung’s gaze was fixed on you, his round eyes absorbing each word with a mix of concern and fascination. “Is that why you use a cane?”

“Yes,” you confirmed with a nod. “I use it when the pain becomes too intense to manage. Since the pain levels fluctuate, I don’t always need it, but on those tough days, it helps me get by.”

A flicker of recognition crossed Jisung’s face. “I remember seeing you in one of your early music videos with a cane. I thought it was part of the styling.”

Your heart warmed at his recollection. “Yes, that’s right. The pain was quite severe that day, so I requested a cane for practical reasons. It ended up adding a touch of flair to the performance, though.”

Jisung’s expression grew thoughtful. “Why didn’t you ask to postpone the filming then?”

You sighed softly, a hint of frustration in your voice. “If I postponed every time I was in pain, I’d have been fired a long time ago. I’ve had to find a way to work through it, making subtle adjustments to manage the discomfort while still meeting my obligations.”

The kettle’s whistle interrupted the moment, and you moved to pour the steaming water into two mugs, infusing them with fragrant herbs. You then arrange a tray with the mugs and a box of cookies before gesturing to Jisung. “Would you be a dear and carry this? We’re going to my mother’s garden.”

Jisung sprang up with an eagerness that made you smile, carrying the tray outside as you led the way. You settled onto the swinging bench, your posture relaxed, and motioned for him to place the tray on a small table positioned in front of you both. He complied and took a seat beside you.

The garden, bathed in the gentle light of day, looked like a dreamscape. Wildflowers swayed gracefully with the breeze, their vibrant colors dancing under the sun’s tender caress. The sunlight bestowed its golden warmth, creating a serene glow that kissed Jisung’s tanned skin, enhancing his natural radiance. As he sipped his tea, a contented sigh escaped him, his entire being seeming to relax with the soothing warmth of the beverage. His curly hair was styled with effortless charm, a few strands framing his face, and his wire glasses added a touch of sophistication. Your gaze lingered on him, admiring the simple beauty of the moment, before you quickly turned away, your heart fluttering with a contented sigh.

The silence between you was soothing, a balm to your often tumultuous thoughts. Even in his moments of struggle, Jisung’s presence provided a tranquil comfort. His voice, when it emerged, was a soft murmur that didn’t disrupt the peace you shared.

“Your mother’s garden is one of the most beautiful places I’ve ever seen,” he said, his words blending seamlessly into the calm.

A genuine smile, rare and bright, curved your lips. “Thank you,” you replied warmly. “She always dreamed of having a garden where she could truly breathe. I’m glad she finally made it a reality.”

Jisung’s gaze softened, his expression unreadable for a moment. Then, he smiled at you with such sincerity that it made your heart skip a beat. “I’m happy she did too,” he said quietly.

The simplicity of his words, coupled with the tranquility of the garden, created a moment of pure connection. For a fleeting instant, the weight of your loneliness seemed to lift, replaced by the gentle warmth of shared understanding and companionship.

“What helps you breathe, Jisung?” The question emerged from your lips with a startling clarity, and you winced inwardly at your own audacity. Jisung’s reaction was immediate—his grip on the mug faltered, and a soft, surprised chuckle escaped him, his ears flushing a delicate shade of pink.

“The way this garden helps your mother breathe, you mean?” he ventured, his voice carrying a note of gentle curiosity.

“Yes,” you responded, your tone warm and inviting. “If you’re comfortable sharing.”

Jisung’s gaze drifted back to the garden, his expression thoughtful. “Would it be cliché if I said it’s writing?”

You laughed softly, shaking your head. “Not at all, but I’d love to hear more.”

He considered his words carefully, his eyes tracing the dance of sunlight on the garden's blossoms. “When I write my songs, it’s like every fleeting thought in my mind is an inhale. When I finally commit those thoughts to paper and understand them, it’s an exhale. So I breathe to write and write to breathe.”

His words wove through you like a soft, comforting breeze, filling your being with a profound sense of being understood. A gentle warmth crept across your cheeks, and you found yourself captivated by the profile of his face. You were torn between relief that he couldn’t see the impact of his words and a desire to fully decipher his expression.

“So you understand,” you murmured, your voice blending with the garden’s serene ambiance.

Jisung turned slowly toward you, his eyes wide with a blend of curiosity and empathy. “How so?”

“Many people underestimate the power of words,” you began, your voice heavy with emotion. “They torment minds like ours until they’re released into the world, our innermost thoughts inked onto paper. Words can be both a curse and a salvation, filled with wonder and horror alike, and they help me breathe as well.”

“Exactly,” Jisung agreed, his voice rich with understanding. “That’s precisely how it feels.”

A bittersweet smile touched your lips as you returned your gaze to the garden, where the flowers swayed gently in the breeze. The tranquility of the scene seemed to mirror the quiet connection forming between you.

“My mother never truly appreciated the written word,” you confessed, your tone tinged with melancholy. “She finds solace in visual beauty and scents—like this garden. She never understood why I’d retreat into my room for hours, enveloped in a world of words.”

You paused, taking a moment to gather your thoughts. “My father, on the other hand, loved music and, by extension, words. Though he never wrote or read, I grew up waking to his morning serenades, each one a unique tribute to my mother while she prepared his lunch before he went to work. He never sang the same song twice, at least not that I can remember. Yet, he always expressed his love for her with the most beautiful, spontaneous words that even I could never have imagined.”

“That’s what helps them breathe,” Jisung said softly, his gaze filled with a tender admiration that seemed to caress your skin. His understanding made you acutely aware of how deeply you had opened up. “Your parents’ love sounds truly beautiful.”

You nodded, a genuine smile gracing your lips. The love your parents shared was indeed a rare and precious thing—a once-in-a-lifetime bond that you could only dream of experiencing for yourself. Despite any imperfections in your relationship with them, it remained an enduring truth.

As you prepared to respond further, the sudden, sharp creak of the front door echoed through the stillness, shattering the fragile peace. Jisung jumped to his feet, the serene atmosphere you had cultivated now disrupted. You remained seated, a pang of disappointment settling within you as the moment you had cherished began to slip away.

“Y/N, do you not answer your phone? I’ve called you several times to help me bring in the groceries!” Your mother’s voice cut through the quiet as she struggled with several bags, their handles digging into her forearms before she dropped them with a huff by the kitchen entrance. You sighed, rising slowly from your seat and making your way into the house, Jisung trailing behind you nervously, the tray in his hands trembling slightly.

The moment your mother caught sight of him, her eyes widened in surprise, and her mouth fell open in a comical gasp. You remained stoically at the threshold, stepping aside to allow her a clearer view of Jisung. He bowed deeply, his cheeks flushed a vibrant shade of red.

“Hello, Mrs. L/N,” he began, his voice tinged with a polite nervousness. “I apologize for showing up unannounced.”

The transformation in your mother’s expression was instantaneous. Her face broke into a beaming smile, and you could feel the familiar sense of dread settle over you. You could already anticipate the endless barrage of questions and well-meaning commentary that was sure to follow once Jisung left.

“Nonsense,” she said, waving her hand dismissively as though to brush away any formalities. “You must be Jisung? Munhee’s son?”

Jisung nodded, his bow still in place. “Yes, that is my mother.”

“Oh!” Your mother’s delight was palpable. “It’s such a pleasure to meet you in person. Munhee has told me so much about you, and she wasn’t exaggerating when she said you’ve become quite the handsome young man.”

Jisung’s blush deepened to an almost comical shade of crimson, and you had to suppress a smile. Stepping forward, you interrupted before the conversation could become even more uncomfortable.

“He just came to return my cane, which I left at the coffee shop yesterday. He was about to leave now.”

Your mother’s disappointment was evident as she took in the news. “Oh, but you must stay a little longer! I’ll prepare lunch for both of you.”

“No, Mom,” you insisted gently, though with firmness. “He’s got a busy day ahead, but perhaps another time.”

You began to make your way towards the front door, reaching for chairs and walls for support. Sitting on the swing for so long had left you a bit unsteady.

“I-I can help bring in the groceries before I leave, if there’s any left,” Jisung offered unexpectedly, his face still flushed but his eyes earnest.

Your mother hesitated, starting to protest that you would be helping her with that task. Jisung, however, persisted, insisting it was the least he could do since his visit had caused you to miss her calls. Her resistance melted away, and she relented with a grateful nod.

You watched, standing by the kitchen, as Jisung moved in and out of the house with bags full of groceries. His willingness to assist touched you deeply, and you felt a genuine warmth in your chest when he finally announced that he was done.

As you reached out for the front door once more, your hand brushed against Jisung’s elbow. He looked at you with a sheepish smile, his eyes conveying a silent encouragement. You realized he was making a deliberate effort to ease your burden, both by helping your mother and by offering his support now. The gesture made your heart swell, and a soft blush crept over your cheeks once again.

The two of you walked together in a comfortable silence, each step measured and unhurried. When you reached the front door, you withdrew your hand and turned to him with a grateful smile.

“Thank you for bringing my cane and for all your help today,” you said, your voice sincere.

“It was no trouble at all,” Jisung replied with a gentle smile. He clumsily turned to leave, his nerves palpable yet endearing.

As he stepped away, your mother’s voice called out from the kitchen, breaking the moment. “So, how do you like him?”

You looked back at Jisung, who was now at the edge of the driveway, his back turned as he walked away. You felt a flutter of something warm and hopeful in your chest as you deliberately refused to respond to your mother’s question.

posted: 07 • 30 • 2024

꒰ 🏷️ ꒱ ミ Permanent taglist: @agi-ppangx

꒰ 🏷️ ꒱ ミ Series taglist: @jisunglyricist @mitchii @skzstan12345 (Comment down below to be added!)

🍉 FROM THE RIVER TO THE SEA, PALESTINE WILL BE FREE! DAILY CLICKS! STAYBLR FUNDRAISER!

🤭 Call me Green, and stalk away! I’m so glad you enjoyed it!

─── ⋆⋅☆ CURIOUS PLEASURES ( xdinary heroes )

❛ Seungmin, intrigued yet apprehensive, tentatively asks you to explore new sexual experiences together after hearing about his coworkers' preferences.

𝐨𝐡 𝐬𝐞𝐮𝐧𝐠𝐦𝐢𝐧 + gender neutral reader ೯ ( 𝐨𝐧𝐞-𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐭 )

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 3.9k 𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞: 15 mins

꒰ 💌 ꒱ ミ It took me a second to write this because I wasn't sure of how to start it, but I did it! This was requested by the amazing🍀 Anon! I hope you guys enjoy, reblogs and feedback are much appreciated! Requests are currently open! ── ( 𝐥𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐲 )

𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: MDNI, anal fingering (male receiving), blowjob, use of a vibrator, handjob, mentions of watching porn, established relationship, Non-Idol AU, let me know if I missed anything!

( 𝐠𝐮𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐬 ) ( 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 & 𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬 ) ( 𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 ) ( 𝐭𝐢𝐩 𝐣𝐚𝐫 )

As you leave your boyfriend’s workplace, Seungmin reaches for your hand. His touch is warm and familiar, grounding you in the present moment. The late afternoon sun dips low in the sky, casting elongated shadows along the sidewalk, and the two of you naturally fall into a comfortable rhythm, your steps matching as you head toward your usual spot—a quaint little ice cream shop a few blocks away. The conversation between you is light at first, filled with the small moments of your day, the kinds of things you always share during these evening walks. You notice that Seungmin seems a bit distant, his gaze unfocused as if he's lost in thought, but you decide not to press him, trusting that he’ll share what’s on his mind when he’s ready.  

When you reach the shop, the bell above the door chimes softly, its gentle sound blending with the soft murmur of conversations inside. You both head to the counter, Seungmin ordering his favorite flavor with a hint of his usual smile, and you choose yours. Finding a cozy booth near the window, you settle in, the sun’s golden rays filtering through the glass, casting a warm glow that dances across Seungmin’s cheeks, highlighting the soft flush that lingers there. As you sit across from him, you can't help but notice the subtle tension still lingering in his posture. He’s fidgety, his spoon stirring his ice cream more than he’s eating it. 

“What’s on your mind?” you ask after a moment, your curiosity getting the better of you. You take a slow spoonful of your ice cream, eyes focused on him. You've learned to recognize the signs—the way his lips are slightly pursed, how his eyes dart around as if searching for the right words. 

Seungmin hesitates, his gaze flicking up to meet yours for a brief moment before dropping back down to his bowl. “So, um, today at the shop, Hyeongjun and Jungsu were talking about... something,” he says, his voice quieter than usual, almost shy. 

You raise a curious eyebrow, leaning in a bit closer. “Yeah? What were they talking about?”

His cheeks flush a soft pink, and he looks down, his spoon making small, aimless circles in his bowl as if he’s debating whether to continue or let the subject drop. After a few seconds of silence, he sighs softly, a bit of resolve settling in his eyes. “They were talking about... well, how they sometimes like it when their partners take control. You know, like being the one who... takes the lead in bed.” 

You blink, a bit surprised by the sudden turn into more intimate territory, but you feel a smile tugging at your lips. There’s something incredibly endearing about how he fumbles for the right words, his shyness evident in the way his cheeks redden further. “Really? And what did you think about that?” you ask gently, your tone encouraging as you watch his expression closely, trying to gauge his thoughts.

He shifts in his seat, clearly feeling a mix of embarrassment and intrigue. “I... I don’t know. I mean, I guess I never really thought about it as an option.” His voice drops even lower as he glances around the mostly empty ice cream shop, making sure no one is close enough to overhear. Then, he leans in closer, his face so near to yours that your breaths mingle, and you feel a slight shiver run through you. “They mentioned something about, um, using a strap and, well... it sounded kind of interesting.” His words come out in a whisper, his vulnerability palpable. 

For a moment, you’re caught off guard by his confession, but a soft smile forms on your lips. There's a rush of excitement at the unexpected turn of the conversation, a thrill that sends a warm flutter through your veins. “If it’s something you’re curious about, we can definitely try it whenever you want,” you reply, your voice gentle and reassuring. “I’d be more than happy to explore that with you.” You want him to know there’s no pressure, only a safe space to share and explore whatever he’s comfortable with.

Seungmin's eyes widen slightly, and his cheeks deepen to a lovely shade of crimson. His gaze drops back to his slowly melting ice cream, and he murmurs, “Really? You’d be okay with something like that? You don’t think it’s too... weird?”

Your smile softens into something more earnest as you reach across the table, placing your hand over his. “Of course, I’d love to try it out with you, my love. You should always know that I want to make you feel good. If that means stepping out of our comfort zones, then I’m always open to at least discussing it. We can start slow, see how it feels for both of us, okay?” 

Seungmin nods, his expression a beautiful mix of relief, nerves, and budding excitement. There’s a lightness to his eyes now, a sense of comfort and trust that wasn’t there before. The rest of your ice cream date continues with a more playful energy, the earlier tension melting away like the last bit of ice cream in your bowls.

As you walk home together, hand in hand, you sense a shift in the air—a quiet, almost electric anticipation that seems to vibrate between you. The evening light fades, casting soft shadows along the pavement, and the rhythm of your footsteps is steady yet filled with a subtle tension. Your mind swirls with a whirlwind of possibilities, considering all the ways you could begin this new and intimate journey of taking control with Seungmin in the bedroom. However, you quickly realize that, despite the rush of ideas, you don’t have the faintest clue where to start or what to do. A small comfort comes from the fact that this is as new for him as it is for you. Whatever happens next will be a learning experience for both of you—a shared exploration of uncharted territory.  

When you finally reach your shared apartment, Seungmin releases a deep breath, the kind that seems to settle from somewhere deep inside, as the two of you kick off your shoes at the entrance and shrug out of your thin jackets. His expression is distant, clearly still mulling over the conversation from the ice cream shop. You decide to give him space to gather his thoughts and head to the small kitchen, opening the fridge to retrieve a cold bottle of water to soothe your dry throat. The coolness of the bottle against your skin feels grounding, a sharp contrast to the heat building within you.  

Seungmin has followed you quietly, his presence a gentle shadow behind you. When you offer him the bottle, he takes a generous swig, his Adam’s apple bobbing with each swallow. Then, he speaks, his voice barely above a whisper, yet laced with a tentative courage: "I think I'd like to try... starting small. If that's okay."  

His words send a quickening pulse through your veins, your heartbeat drumming a little faster as it dawns on you that Seungmin is eager to explore this newfound curiosity much sooner than you had anticipated. You offer him a reassuring smile, finishing the last of the water before tossing the empty bottle into the recycling bin. Gently, you take his hand, fingers intertwining with his as you lead him toward your shared bedroom. "We can definitely start with something simple," you say softly, your voice a soothing melody in the quiet of the apartment. "And we'll only go as far as you’re comfortable with."  

You turn to face him, your gaze soft but sensual, hoping to ease his nerves. Your hand comes to rest over his chest, where you can feel the rapid thump of his heart beneath your palm. You’re about to guide him back toward the bed, a gentle pressure on his chest to encourage him to sit, but his eyes suddenly widen, and a flicker of panic crosses his face. He steps back quickly, his breath shaky, and his cheeks are flushed a deep, telling crimson.  

"Uh, I'm sorry—I just remembered something that the guys told me I had to do before doing any of this... Can you wait for me while I take a quick shower?" he asks, his words tumbling out in a rush. His eyes avoid yours, and you can see the embarrassment and nerves written all over his expression.

You can't help but furrow your brows, confusion evident as you tilt your head slightly to the side. Still, you nod silently, giving him the space he needs. Seungmin’s sudden sprint toward the bathroom would have been comical if it weren’t for the knot of anxiety and mild bewilderment tightening in your stomach. The bathroom is just down the short hallway, right next to the bedroom, and you hear the door close behind him, followed by the faint sound of water rushing through the pipes.  

With a soft sigh, you sit on the edge of your shared bed, feeling the anticipation build anew. Slipping your phone from the back pocket of your work pants, you decide to make use of the unexpected time alone. You navigate the internet with a mix of anxious curiosity and burgeoning excitement, searching for any ideas or suggestions on how to approach this new dynamic between you and Seungmin.  

Your eyes skim through informative websites and, eventually, a few more porn videos, your breath growing a little heavier as you delve deeper. With each click, each new insight, a slow, simmering arousal builds within you, blending with the thrill of the unknown. You can’t help but wonder why neither of you had brought up this possibility sooner, feeling the thrill of finally stepping into this unspoken desire for the first time. A smile tugs at your lips as you imagine the possibilities, your mind already spinning with thoughts of how you’ll guide Seungmin through this first experience, both of you ready to explore and discover together.

You're lounging on the bed, phone in hand, scrolling through the endless pages of information when the gentle patter of water from the bathroom reaches your ears. It’s a soothing, rhythmic sound, one that fills the room with a sense of calm anticipation. A few moments later, the door creaks open, and Seungmin steps out, the steam curling around him like a fine mist. A towel is wrapped snugly around his waist, clinging to his hips, while his hair, still damp from the shower, clings in soft, tousled strands that curl at the ends. Droplets of water trail from his dark locks, gliding down the curve of his neck and catching the soft light, leaving a shimmering trail along his freshly washed skin. His whole body seems to glisten, a fresh sheen of water still lingering on his toned form.  

He pauses in the doorway of your shared bedroom, a mix of nerves and excitement painting his cheeks with a rosy flush. There’s a sheepish yet giddy smile tugging at the corners of his lips, and his eyes—wide, filled with an intriguing blend of trepidation and thrill—lock onto yours. His gaze is magnetic, pulling you in, and you can't help but return his smile, your heart fluttering with a mix of anticipation and newfound confidence, now bolstered by the things you'd just learned online. You notice the way he shifts his weight from one foot to the other, the towel around his waist swaying slightly with the movement. There’s a playful unease in his posture—a hesitancy tempered with the eager curiosity of diving into something new and unknown.

Setting your phone aside, you rise from your spot at the edge of the bed, your eyes never leaving his. You close the short distance between you, a silent promise written in the intensity of your gaze. When you reach him, your hands find his, and you pull him into a deep, passionately reassuring kiss. He responds immediately, his lips moving against yours with a fervor that matches your own. As you gently nip at his bottom lip, a silent plea for more, he lets out a soft whimper that sends a rush of arousal through you. His lips part willingly, and you waste no time, your tongue slipping into his mouth, tangling with his in an intimate dance that deepens with every second.  

Without breaking the heated exchange, you guide him back toward the bed. His steps are tentative at first, but he quickly catches on, and you coax him down to sit where you had been moments before, right on the edge of the bed. As he takes his seat, you lower yourself onto your knees between his legs, using his knees to steady yourself. Only then do you break the kiss, pulling back just enough to search his eyes. You look for any signs of hesitation, of discomfort, but all you find is a new glint—a desperate need that you’ve never seen in him before.  

Unable to resist the pull of his swollen lips, you lean in and press a fleeting, tender kiss there, your lips lingering just long enough to leave a warmth behind. Then, you begin a slow, deliberate trail down his jawline, your lips grazing his skin in soft, teasing pecks that send shivers rippling through him. His breath catches, and when you reach his collarbones, you pause, knowing just how sensitive he is in that spot. The response is instant and intense; his hand tangles in your hair with a grip that borders on painful but stings in a way that’s oddly thrilling, while his other hand cups the back of your head, trying to pull you even closer, as if he can’t get enough.  

It takes a moment for you to remember that tonight, the power is yours. With a sly smile, you pull back from his collarbone, leaving him breathless, his eyes half-lidded with desire. His pupils are blown wide, his chest rising and falling in quick, uneven breaths, and a delicious sense of control surges through you. Moving with deliberate slowness, you reach down and take hold of both his wrists, guiding them to rest on either side of him on the bed. Seungmin’s eyes are glazed with lust, his chest still heaving, but he obeys, keeping his hands where you’ve placed them, though his fingers twitch with the instinctive urge to reach for you.  

There’s a delicious tension in the air—a fine line between his restraint and his yearning. His struggle to maintain control only heightens the atmosphere, and your smirk deepens as you lean back in, brushing your lips close to his ear, your breath warm against his skin as you whisper, “Tonight, you’re mine.” The words seem to electrify him, a soft gasp escaping his lips, and you can feel the thrill of anticipation building between you, ready to explode into something neither of you will soon forget.

Your tongue trails a slow, languid path down his chest and along his torso, leaving a glistening trail in its wake as you maintain a steady, lustful gaze on his face. His breath comes in soft, trembling pants, his chest rising and falling with each exhale. You relish in the way his eyes, half-lidded with desire, meet yours—a silent plea hidden within their depths. As you descend lower, you notice that the towel he'd wrapped around his waist after his shower has unraveled at some point, revealing the sight of his beautifully hard cock, already leaking with desperate arousal. The sight makes your own pulse quicken, and you waste no time in indulging him further.

You start with a classic approach, your tongue tracing slow, deliberate circles around his tip, savoring the salty taste of him as you listen to the soft, needy sounds that escape his lips. His breath hitches sharply as you take him deeper, letting the heat of your mouth wrap around him. His fingers curl into the sheets, knuckles whitening with the strain, and you can feel the way his hips fight to stay still beneath you, each twitch betraying his desire. Your pace is slow and deliberate, allowing him to fully immerse himself in the overwhelming sensation of your mouth, your hands, and the rhythmic undulation of your movements. His breathing grows uneven, each inhale shaky and filled with anticipation.

When you finally pull away, you revel in the sight before you: his cheeks flushed a deep pink, his lips parted as he pants for breath, and his eyes half-closed in a haze of pleasure. "I want to try something," you murmur softly, your voice low and teasing as you reach into the nearby drawer. His gaze follows your movements, widening slightly when he sees what you've retrieved—a small, sleek vibrator, the soft hum of it filling the room as you switch it to its lowest setting. There’s a flicker of curiosity mixed with a hint of apprehension in his expression, his eyes darting between the toy and your face. "Just relax," you whisper reassuringly, your tone a soothing balm against the charged atmosphere. 

You begin by teasing the vibrator along his length, pressing it gently against his shaft while continuing your ministrations with your mouth. His reaction is immediate and electrifying—his hips jerk slightly, and a sharp intake of breath escapes him, his voice caught somewhere between a moan and a gasp. It's clear he's never felt anything like this before, evident in the way his cock continues to leak, a steady stream of arousal that makes your own excitement build. You keep your movements steady and methodical, letting the vibrator explore all the sensitive spots along his cock, each touch drawing shivers and jerks from his body. A proud grin tugs at your lips as you watch his responses, the way his brows knit together, and his lips part to release soft, breathless moans.

As his pleasure builds, you decide to take things a step further. You move lower, cradling his balls in one hand—now drenched in a mix of his arousal and your saliva—while keeping the vibrator pressed against him with the other. He lets out a slightly high-pitched moan of surprise, his brows furrowing even tighter as his face contorts in sheer pleasure. "Does this feel good?" you ask softly, your voice a soothing caress as you watch his face closely for any sign of discomfort. He nods quickly, his voice catching in his throat as he manages a strained, "Y-yeah... feels really good." 

Encouraged by his response, you continue, your fingers gradually slipping lower to tease along his entrance. His breath hitches again, but this time there's an eager undertone, a breathless anticipation evident in the way he instinctively pushes his hips forward, silently begging for more. With a soft chuckle, you decide to tease him a little further. You make a show of spitting a generous amount of saliva onto your index finger, letting it drip and glisten in the dim light before applying gentle pressure, just the tip at first. He moans softly, his body tensing, his upper lip curling up in slight discomfort before he begins to relax. He leans back onto his forearms against the bed, and you take the opportunity to wrap your lips around his cock once more.

You take your time, keeping your finger still at first, letting him adjust. His breaths come in shallow gasps, his chest rising and falling rapidly as he tries to steady himself. All the while, you maintain eye contact, wanting him to feel safe, to feel cherished in this vulnerable moment. "You're doing so well, baby," you whisper, your voice soft and encouraging. "Just relax and enjoy it." With each careful thrust of your finger, with each glide of his tip against the back of your throat, with each slow, teasing movement of the vibrator against his shaft—his body begins to respond. His breaths grow deeper and more ragged, his hips moving in time with your rhythm. 

When you add a second finger, stretching him gently, he lets out a soft, almost whimpering moan, his entire body trembling as you find that sweet spot inside him. His reactions are raw and breathtaking—a beautiful mix of vulnerability and desire that sends an addictive rush of arousal through you. You relish the sight of him unraveling under your touch, his expression a mix of pleasure and desperation. You hope, with a deep yearning, that this won't be the last time you get to see him like this—completely at your mercy, lost in the overwhelming pleasure you're giving him.

As you continue your rhythm, his hips begin to move instinctively, chasing the pleasure you're giving him with every thrust and stroke. His body reacts to your touch like a finely tuned instrument, his soft gasps and breathy moans blending harmoniously with the low hum of your small vibrator. The room fills with a symphony of intimacy—lewd, wet sounds mingling with the ragged cadence of his breathing and the slick slide of your fingers moving in and out of his entrance. His body is alive with sensation, each jolt of pleasure pushing him closer to the edge. You can feel it in the way his cock twitches within your mouth, desperate and aching, and in the way his hands begin to reach out, searching for something—anything—to anchor himself to in this sea of pleasure.

Sensing his need for connection, you decide to turn off the vibrator, its quiet hum fading as you toss it aside. Instead, you take one of his trembling hands in yours, intertwining your fingers together. The simple touch is grounding, bringing him back to the present, and you give his hand a gentle squeeze, a silent promise that you’re right here with him. His breath stutters in his chest, and you take a moment to savor his reaction as you bob your head along his length, letting your tongue twirl and dance around him with deliberate slowness. You pull away with a soft, wet pop, your lips red and swollen, still brushing kisses along his shaft. “That’s it,” you murmur, your voice a hushed command, each word a warm breath against his sensitive skin that sends shivers coursing through him. "Let go for me, my love."

When you take him back into your mouth, your lips enveloping him in a warm, wet heat, he gasps, his body taut with anticipation. Your tongue teases the slit at his tip, savoring the salty taste of his pre-cum, while your fingers work with a newfound urgency, picking up their pace as they curl and press, grazing his sensitive spot inside with precision. The effect is immediate and electrifying—his body tenses, his hips bucking slightly as he teeters on the brink. His moans grow louder, his breath more erratic, and you can feel his restraint slipping away. It doesn’t take long before Seungmin is coming undone beneath you, his release crashing over him like a wave. 

His body trembles violently with pleasure, his muscles clenching and relaxing in a rhythmic dance of surrender. His eyes flutter shut, and his lips part as a broken, breathless moan escapes him, echoing through the room. His fingers grip yours tightly, holding on as if afraid to let go, his trust in you deepening with every exhale. You feel a profound connection in this moment—a wordless understanding, a bond that transcends the physical. His vulnerability, his trust, his surrender—they are gifts, and you cherish each one as he loses himself in the intensity of his climax, feeling the weight of the intimacy shared between you.

꒰ 🏷️ ꒱ ミ Permanent taglist: @joosbasschick @xhfics (Click on the link to join! All you have to do is answer a few questions to help me stay organized!)

🍉 FROM THE RIVER TO THE SEA, PALESTINE WILL BE FREE! DAILY CLICKS!

merin! thank you so much for your support, i love you so much! those lyrics took me an embarrassingly long time for me to write because writing poetry or anything that rhymes is very out of my comfort zone but i’m so happy with how it turned out! expect more original songs in here! also, thank you for the hug and the offer 🥹 you’re very sweet — you can also talk to me or vent at any time, i promise i’m here to listen.

ꖛ ꙳꯬ 🦇 ‘till forever falls apart 𓂅 ໋⋅

「 other works by green. 」 「 kofi 」 「 free palestine 」 「 series index 」

‧₊° pairing. han jisung x idol!fem!reader

‧₊° content warnings. han deals with a lot of anxiety and depression. reader has fibromyalgia. constant mention of being in pain. love-making. cussing. lots of angst. more to be added.

‧₊° rating. 18+

‧₊° summary. in which two disabled idols find comfort in each other’s arms.

prologue. lady of the night

Lady of the night, come out and kiss your stars

Whisper to the moon, and show us where you are

A sea of people sang to you, holding their red light in the air as they did so. Under the harsh rain that hit their skin like bullets yet they remained in place, raising their voices to be heard over the constant thunder in your ears — a mixture of the weather and your own heartbeat.

In the shadows deep, where the lost souls weep

You dance alone, in the dark so far

The microphone in your hand was taken from your hands as people from backstage rushed to your aid, yet you held your hand up to signal them to stop as you slowly raised your gaze to see the crowd. Air ceased to exist the moment your eyes met theirs. The singing continued as they watched you, perhaps waiting for you to join them, though you genuinely could not find a single thread of motivation to help you through.

Oh, Lady of the night, with your eyes so bright

Guide us through the endless night

Though your body tensed and screeched in pain, you found enough strength to sit up enough to pull your feet from under yourself in order to sit down properly, ignoring the fact that this dress was not made for such a thing. Still, you allowed the rain to attack your body while your mind and heart was soothed by the sound of your very first song being sung by hundreds of people you were afraid might leave. But they didn’t. They have remained here, with you.

With your spectral light, take us to new heights

Lady of the night, be our silent guide

The people who were previously trying to help you exit the stage immediately were now standing to the side, ready to move at the beck of your call. Though your manager stood amongst those people, face red with fury as he burnt holes into your frail body. However, not a single care seemed to reach your conscience at this moment.

Winds begin to howl, as you make your silent call

Through the ancient trees, your ghostly footsteps fall

In the midnight air, there’s a longing there

For the dreams you weave, in your silver shawl

As the song continued on, your heartbeat slowed to a rhythm that didn’t seem to want to make her veins burst, and for the first time in weeks did you know peace. Pure and simple peace. The entire world spun steadily, your thoughts stopped racing, and air returned to your lungs like cold water at the height of the summer heat. Your eyes fell close, and the corners of your lips quirked up into a soft smile.

Although you hadn’t noticed at first, you’d been mouthing the words that started the snowball that is your career and it was as though you had finally grasped the lyrics you had written yourself.

Lady of the night, won't you come out and kiss your stars

In your tender light, we’ll forget our scars

As the song came to an end, you reached out to the person closest to you and with their help, came to your feet. This action seemed to encourage the audience as their voice grew louder, and you couldn’t help the tears that you hadn’t realized you’d been holding back.

Till the morning’s hue, we’ll dream with you

Lady of the night, wherever you are

Oh, what a time to be alive.

word count: 0.5k 🦇 posted: 06 • 01 • 2024

💬 a note from green;

by popular vote, i present to you: TFFA! i’m so so happy to be back guys, y’all have no idea the amount of stress i’ve been feeling and all the shit i had to deal with. i am quite literally penniless, am back home where all the stress and crap i try to avoid throughout the semester just sits there, waiting and now i gotta do something about it. i’m just…lowkey not okay haha.

anyways, i’m happy to be writing again! i know this one in particular is probably the shortest thing i’ve ever posted BUT more will come, this is just a snippet of the shitshow that’s coming and i’m honestly so excited.

( 🏷️ ) taglist: @agi-ppangx

i’m so sorry to hear about your pain!!! hopefully it stops soon!!!!

i’m currently in the process of moving back home from a year abroad, and packing is so stressful, especially since i have absolutely no energy to do it. i just want it all to be over with.😣

but i am soooooo excited to read what you’ve come up with. i can confidently say you’re my favorite writer on here. and i’ll send my other requests separately so there’s no rush to get multiple fics out at once!

i don’t know how hot it is where you are, but try to stay hydrated!!🫶🫶

- 🍀

It’s alright! I’m used to it by now since my pain is kinda constant, but every now and then my body will decide that I’ve strained it too much (even after doing literally nothing) and just have me collapsed in bed unable to move without me wanting to murder someone (all jokes heeheehaha)

Oh I totally get your pain 😭 I’ve been studying abroad since I was fifteen so dorms is pretty much all I know now, and by the end of every school year I’d have to pack all my stuff and it was always such a pain. College is no better since my high school also has a university on the same campus so I kind of just transferred there, so I get it 😫 I’m sending you all the energy and luck, you got this!💪🙂‍↕️

Hello? That is so sweet? My eyes are sweating? Also, I read your requests and mmmmm Jungsu’s sounds like so much fun I can’t wait! And O.de’s LMFAO you’re so right about how he’d get into all that, I can just picture it 😂

I’m currently in Puerto Rico and melting at the speed of light! But don’t worry I always carry a water bottle around with me so I’m chugging that shit down like crazy 🫶

──★ 𝐌𝐀𝐃𝐄 𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐘𝐎𝐔 ( enhypen )

❛ In which you’re the idol who somehow snatched the members of Enhypen’s heart at first sight.

𝐞𝐧𝐡𝐲𝐩𝐞𝐧 + gender neutral reader ೯ ( 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬 ) 8.8k

꒰ 💌 ꒱ ミ Feedback and reblogs are always appreciated! Requests are currently open! All of the members are found below the cut! Enjoy! ── ( 𝐥𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐲 )

𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: Love at first sight trope, Idol Y/N AU, inconsistent POV, whether Y/N is a solo artist or a member of a group varies from member to member, lots of mentions of being stressed with work, Y/N in Jake’s piece has some negative opinions on the HYBE company (which doesn’t reflect my own personal opinions), Y/N and Sunghoon are drunk together but it’s all pretty mild, meet-cutes for all members except for Jake — his is more of a one-sided enemies-to-lovers trope, let me know if I missed anything!

( 𝐠𝐮𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐬 ) ( 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 & 𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬 ) ( 𝐢𝐧 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐠𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐬 ) ( 𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 )

이희승 ── LEE HEESEUNG.

An exhausted sigh brushed past Heeseung's lips as he trudged into the empty elevator of his company building. With his backpack slung lazily over one shoulder, he leaned heavily against the cold, metallic railing at the back of the enclosed space. The hum of the elevator's ascent seemed to echo his own weary thoughts, a turbulent mix of pride and anxiety swirling in his mind. Images of the countless posters featuring his face, alongside those of his members, plastered all over town flashed before his eyes. Despite the pride he felt in the fanbase Enhypen had garnered since their debut, a gnawing fear tugged at his heart — a fear that after all the sacrifices made for this new comeback, it might still fall short of expectations.

Lost in his own tumultuous sea of thoughts, Heeseung was jolted back to reality by the sudden chime of the elevator, signaling its stop. The sound snapped him from his reverie, and as the doors opened, he stumbled out onto the wrong floor, colliding gently with someone exiting the opposite way. His face flushed with embarrassment as he muttered a hasty apology, realizing he had disembarked prematurely. Flustered, he shoved his arm between the closing doors to force them open again, avoiding eye contact with the stranger who had witnessed his blunder. The mortification deepened as he heard the soft, amused chuckle from the person he’d bumped into.

In the brief moment of awkward silence that followed, your melodic voice broke through, catching Heeseung’s attention. “Aren’t you one of the members of Enhypen? Heeseung, right?”

His gaze, which had been fixed on the floor in embarrassment, hesitantly lifted to meet your bright eyes. The connection felt electric, as if a spotlight had suddenly focused on you, illuminating the exquisite details of your face. Heeseung was struck by an overwhelming sense of awe, his heart racing as he tried to gather his thoughts. Unfortunately, his voice seemed to have abandoned him completely, leaving him with no words other than a timid nod.

The smile that graced your lips was like a burst of sunshine, sending Heeseung’s heart into a whirl. Your eyes sparkled with genuine excitement, and he could almost feel the warmth of your enthusiasm radiating towards him. It was a small yet endearing display of your excitement that tugged at his heartstrings.

“I honestly can’t believe I’m meeting you,” you said, your voice bubbling with unfiltered joy. “I’ve already listened to every song on your new album, Romance: Untold, and it’s truly amazing. My favorite is definitely ‘Moonstruck’ — I’ve had it on repeat so much that it might be considered a bit of an obsession.”

Heeseung managed to curl the corners of his lips into a shy grin, chuckling softly at the sight of your unrestrained praise. Though his mind was still blank and his ability to articulate a response seemed impaired, the sight of you raving about his work was heartening. You didn’t seem to mind, as you turned your attention back to the slowly descending elevator, which gave Heeseung a clear view of your slightly flushed cheeks.

Suddenly, a realization seemed to hit you, causing your eyes to widen in a mixture of panic and embarrassment. “Oh no, I hope you don’t think I’m just a weird fan who snuck in here! I’m actually one of the members of a new group that debuted a few months ago. I’m the eldest member, actually. Um, I’m Y/N.” Your once bold and outgoing demeanor gave way to a nervous, stammering apology as you quickly rattled off your introduction. Heeseung couldn’t help but chuckle softly, the sight of your flustered state easing his own tension.

As if sensing your discomfort, the elevator doors slid open with a familiar chime, allowing you to bow hurriedly before slipping out of the confined space. Heeseung, feeling a sudden surge of determination, followed you into the lobby. His hand reached out, gently grabbing your wrist and bringing you to a stop. The startled look on your face, accompanied by your crimson cheeks, made Heeseung’s heart race. The way your eyes gleamed with curiosity and surprise left him breathless, and he felt a rush of courage to keep you from walking away.

“I – I really appreciate you enjoying our album,” he blurted out, his voice trembling slightly. His eyes darted around, searching for the right words to extend the fleeting moment. “I’ll admit that I haven’t heard your music yet, but... um, if you’re free now, maybe we could grab a coffee? I’d love to hear more about your group and listen to your stuff.”

The transformation in your expression was instantaneous. The soft gasp that escaped your lips, combined with your shy nod of agreement, filled Heeseung with an exhilarating sense of relief and excitement. If the thread of his life had been cut at that moment, he would have died the happiest man on earth. Your smile, so bright and genuine, breathed new life into his day, turning a simple encounter into something extraordinary.

박종성 ── PARK JONGSEONG.

As the award show neared its conclusion, the atmosphere of genuine enjoyment gradually gave way to a palpable restlessness. Idols, exhausted from hours of watching performances and listening to repetitive acceptance speeches, were eager to leave.

Jay, seated among the sea of idols, found himself particularly conscious of the numerous cameras stationed around the venue. Each lens seemed to capture his every movement, broadcasting it to the fans watching from the comfort of their homes. Normally, he was accustomed to this constant scrutiny, but tonight felt different. The hours seemed to stretch interminably, and he watched as a parade of performers and winners he barely recognized took the stage.

His body ached from the relentless dance and vocal rehearsals leading up to their next comeback, the dull pain in his muscles a constant reminder of his exhaustion. Despite his best efforts to maintain a stoic expression for the sake of Engenes, Jay felt the strain, his neck twinging painfully with every attempt to relieve it.

The host, a familiar figure in a sharp suit, made his way to the center of the stage for the final time. Adjusting his tie with a practiced charm, he flashed a bright grin that could be seen even from the back rows. Jay barely registered the words as the emcee began his closing speech, his mind focused on the discomfort in his neck.

“What a night, what a night,” the host began, his voice tinged with rehearsed sentiment. “I can comfortably say that this will be an unforgettable evening for many — myself included.”

He paused, glancing around the audience with a knowing smile. “I know I’m supposed to end the night with a heartfelt speech, but we have one final surprise that I’m sure you’ll all enjoy — a special performance.”

Confusion rippled through the audience as murmurs filled the room. Jay furrowed his brows, intrigued yet weary.

“As you all know, there is a nationally beloved solo artist who has been on hiatus for seven months.” The anticipation in the room grew palpable. “Yes, you know exactly who I’m talking about! Ladies and gentlemen, please welcome back our one and only — Y/N!”

The moment you stepped onto the stage, the audience erupted in applause and cheers. Your emotional grin barely concealed the tears threatening to spill from the overwhelming support. For Jay, the world seemed to collapse in on itself, leaving only the ethereal vision of you. The simple act of walking and smiling was enough to leave him breathless.

As you took your place at the center of the stage, the music began, and the cheers gradually quieted. Every discomfort Jay had felt moments ago vanished as he watched you raise the microphone to your lips, your eyes turning into crescent moons with your unwavering smile.

Your voice was enchanting, filling every corner of the stadium and striking the hearts of everyone present with its raw emotion. Jay was no exception. He was captivated by the intensity and beauty of your performance, feeling every note resonate deeply within him. As the final gentle notes faded, tears you had held back began to roll down your cheeks, ruining your makeup but enhancing your vulnerability.

The audience's applause was deafening, a testament to their love and admiration. Despite the chaos, your heart swelled with gratitude at the sight of so many people celebrating your return.

The award show faded into a distant memory as you found yourself surrounded by people offering heartfelt praise and excitement. Your cheeks ached from smiling, but the bliss of the moment was worth every second. Faces blurred together as you moved from one conversation to the next, each interaction a reminder of how much you were loved and missed.

Throughout it all, Jay watched you from a distance, his group members having long since left. He desperately wanted to approach you but felt intimidated by the constant stream of admirers. Eventually, he resigned himself to the idea that he might not get the chance to express how profoundly your performance had affected him. With a heavy heart, he signaled to his bodyguard that he was ready to leave.

Outside the stadium, the noise of the city offered a reprieve from the weight of his celebrity persona. Jay enjoyed the simple act of watching cars pass by, lost in thought. He didn’t notice you until you sighed contentedly and took the empty spot beside him.

“Pretty night,” you said softly, your voice tender and soothing. Jay turned to you, stunned into silence by your presence. The fluttering in his stomach intensified.

In an effort to compose himself, he looked back at the road. “You must be tired,” he said, trying to sound casual. “After so long away from the spotlight, I mean.”

You giggled, a sound that squeezed his heart. “Blissfully drained.”

Jay chuckled, stealing a quick glance at you before returning his gaze forward. The comfortable silence between you was enough, each moment charged with unspoken emotions.

“You know,” you began, “I watched your performance from the dressing room. I really enjoyed it.”

The blush that crept up Jay’s ears was immediate, followed by a shy smile. Your compliment left him feeling both flustered and elated. You turned away slightly, your own cheeks flushed.

Before Jay could respond, a black Cadillac pulled up in front of him, signaling it was time to leave. Panic set in as he realized he hadn’t said everything he wanted to. You, however, seemed unfazed, your confident smirk never wavering.

“May our paths cross once more,” you said with a warm smile, taking a step back and waving.

Jay watched you disappear into the night, your words echoing in his mind. He hoped fervently that this wouldn't be the last time he saw you.

심재윤 ── SIM JAEYUN.

Amidst the cacophony of angry voices clashing like a storm, your blood boiled at the pure entitlement of the people standing before you. You'd barely managed to set your bag down on the leather couch of the recording studio you had waited weeks to finally use when the door burst open, revealing the breathless mess of a manager responsible for some boy group you couldn't even be bothered to acknowledge. He claimed that there had been an error in the schedule for the room, that it was supposedly meant to be occupied by his group—never mind the fact that your name had been very clearly stated in the timesheet for weeks.

The sour taste on your tongue intensified as soon as you noticed a group of six boys hesitantly approaching the tense situation, led by a younger-looking boy with almost cartoonishly big doe eyes. His brows furrowed as he tried to decipher the not-so-clean words being exchanged between both teams. Letting your own manager handle the mess, you remained seated on the couch with your arms folded over your chest, hoping you'd be compensated for the reserved time you'd lost to this fiasco, though you were almost certain you wouldn't be.

Somehow maneuvering themselves around the strife, the newcomers entered the recording room, only to awkwardly stand before you as if expecting you to explain the situation. Despite your clear distaste, you let your hands fall limply onto your lap with a frustrated sigh.

"I reserved this room for today weeks ago," you said, the acidity in your tone unmistakable. None of the boys seemed too bothered by it as they continued to watch you intently. "Your manager, however, decided it would be a good idea to waste everyone's time by claiming there must have been some kind of oversight since apparently he also reserved this exact time for you guys."

"Uh, I think there might have really been a misunderstanding since we were also set to record here," Doe-Eyes responded quickly, glancing back towards his manager anxiously as if unsure of his own words. You couldn't help but scoff and roll your eyes.

Pulling your phone out of your back pocket, you didn't try to hide the incredulous shake of your head. Once you found the confirmation email you’d received upon booking the studio, you turned your screen so that all six boys could read. “Unless you also have an email similar to this— which, by the way, your manager has failed to show us instead of calling his boss—then I don’t think there’s really any room to call this a ‘misunderstanding’.”

Almost immediately, Doe-Eyes pulled his own phone out of the pocket of his hoodie, hurriedly scrolling through it while taking a seat a little further down the same couch you'd been glued to for the past twenty minutes. The rest of the members didn’t seem to have anything else to say as they either pursed their lips awkwardly or whispered amongst themselves, their furrowed brows signaling their own concerns about what it would mean for them if you were to keep the studio. And although you were confident that you and your team had done everything right, you were barely able to suppress your own fear of being left high and dry. It wasn’t uncommon for solo artists such as yourself to have no other alternative than to fight tooth and nail for fair treatment in an industry with a clear preference for boy groups like the ones present at the moment—and the company you were currently working for was really no different, as evidenced by the infuriating stories shared by the painfully sparse number of solo artists you’d met in this very building.

Then, as if suddenly remembering something, Doe-Eyes whipped his head around as though looking for someone. “Where’s Jake?”

The other members uselessly copied their friend’s action, shrugging silently. “I think he was talking with his mom on the phone when we left, but he said he wouldn’t be too long.”

Almost as if the act of voicing his name could summon him, a very disheveled seventh boy skidded to a halt behind the ongoing commotion taking place right outside the studio. His eyes widened in bewilderment as he processed the admittedly rare scene unfolding before him. His attention quickly shifted to the group of idols crowding the already confined space as one of the members waved at him to join them, a silent command that didn’t need to be repeated as he squeezed his way inside. Once he made it past the door, he hunched over breathlessly, a string of gibberish pouring out of his mouth as he tried to explain his tardiness—not a single word of it being even remotely comprehensible to you.

Ultimately, the boy’s excuses didn’t matter as everyone’s attention was drawn to the familiar authoritative figure who finally made his appearance (as requested by the boys’ manager) to solve the ridiculous dilemma, the typical severe expression etched onto his face. You tried to brush aside your rising anxiety to no avail, your leg subconsciously bouncing up and down.

While your mind raced with worst-case scenarios, Jake—the boy who’d just arrived—found himself stilled by the mere sight of you. Encircled by a heavenly bubble that seemed to drown out his surroundings, he found himself captivated by the worry tainting what he was positive would otherwise be the most heart-mangling pair of eyes he’d ever seen. Even with your entire essence emanating a mixture of irritation and anxiety, Jake was sure his eyes would never find anything or anyone that could compare to the profoundness of your beauty. He almost questioned if you were real, or if he had lost his sanity to a sweet hallucination, though he quickly pushed the idea out of his mind for fear of losing sight of you.

“Hi.” It was all that Jake could muster, hoping his heart wouldn’t suddenly stop when your weary eyes landed on him. “I don’t think I’ve seen you around here before.”

Several conflicting emotions passed through your face as you tried to make sense of the unexpected contrast between the serious situation and his dazed expression. In the end, all you could do was scoff nastily at his lack of ability to read the room, a reaction that still made Jake feel as though he could levitate since your simple acknowledgment of his existence was enough for him to obsess over for the rest of his lifetime.

The sight of the newcomer was almost ridiculous as you shifted in your seat almost uncomfortably, unable to understand what could possibly be going through his mind.

“Okay, let’s do this.” The authoritarian voice of your superior was enough to drag your attention away from the oddity of this boy. “Since Enhypen’s comeback is set at a sooner date, I suggest Y/N allow them to use the room first. I’ll be sure to postpone the reservations of the people meant to come here today or tomorrow. That is my final say on the matter.”

He raised his hand in a stern manner the moment he noticed you quickly jumping to your feet to argue, immediately shutting you up as your lips curled into a disgruntled snarl. Even though a part of you had predicted this outcome, you still couldn’t believe it as your eyes found the familiar pair belonging to your exhausted manager.

Since it was clear that you and your team had no other option but to pack up what little had been set up before this whole fiasco began, you begrudgingly snatched your bag to sling over your shoulder—though not before scowling in the boys’ direction, causing them to wince back. Except for Jake, who annoyingly remained in his spot, smiling stupidly at you.

Hours after being kicked out of your own appointment, you found yourself sitting alone under the shade of a large tree at a nearby park. Bitterness still possessed your heart despite coming here to calm yourself in the comforting alternative universe that only seemed to exist in this very spot, usually waiting for your return whenever life took a rough turn. Every other time, the gentle kisses of the wind against your skin, the delicious warmth that dwelled just under the surface of the ground, or the simple serenity that washed over your troubled mind as you listened to the natural melody of small animals and children playing would immediately comfort you. However, your little piece of paradise did not spare any mercy for you today. The chilly wind nipped at your reddened cheeks and nose, the ground beneath you was still moist from the light rain of the previous day, and all you could hear were the exhaustive sounds of distant traffic and the robotic voices of business people on their phones. Your little piece of paradise, your alternative universe hidden in plain sight, had become distressingly bleak.

You were just about to abandon your spot, the disappointment becoming overwhelming to the point of blurring your vision with unshed tears, when the sound of cautious footsteps from behind alerted you. Breath catching in your throat at the thought of what could possibly happen, you hoped whoever was approaching would just walk past and prove you to be foolishly paranoid.

“You hide well, Y/N.”

The sinister words unmistakably belonging to a man hung in the air, making you consider breaking into a run—or perhaps attempting to kick him in the knees to temporarily incapacitate him and give you more time to escape. A million thoughts stormed through your head as your heartbeat picked up.

“I’m sorry about what happened with the studio.” The specificity of the man’s apology made you pause. You noted that he had stopped moving, evidently standing just a foot or two away from you. Still, you couldn’t bring yourself to turn around. “After you and your team left, I was finally told what went down, and I felt guilty. Obviously, you have every right to be upset considering your name was the only one that appeared to be scheduled.”

Only a moment passed before the owner of the mysterious voice stood before you, sporting a shy smile while holding a brown paper bag close to his chest. It was the boy who had arrived late to the recording session, the one with the dazed look in his eyes — the same one still present as he looked down at your sitting figure. His presence reignited the smoldering anger you’d managed to suppress over the past few hours. You didn't bother holding back the immediate glare directed at him, a glare that would have made anyone else shrink back. But he seemed unfazed, his smile only growing into a full, boyish grin that vaguely reminded you of a Golden Retriever, with an infectious warmth that was hard to ignore.

He stood there, awkwardly shifting his weight from one foot to the other, the bag crinkling slightly in his grip. His tousled hair caught the last rays of the setting sun, creating a halo effect around his head that softened his features. Despite your irritation, you couldn't help but notice the genuine innocence in his eyes, as if he truly had no intention of causing any harm — deep down, you were well aware that your anger was misdirected, though your pride didn’t let you back down.

“Anyway, I'm really sorry about earlier," he repeated, his voice gentle and sincere. "I know things got messed up, and it wasn’t fair to you."

The softness of his tone momentarily disarmed you, but you quickly remembered the frustration of being pushed aside. You folded your arms across your chest, maintaining your steely gaze. "It's not your fault, but that doesn't make it any less infuriating," you replied curtly, though a part of you felt a pang of guilt for being so harsh.

He nodded, understanding. "I get that. I really do. That's why I wanted to apologize properly." He held out the bag towards you, his eyes pleading for you to accept his peace offering.

You hesitated, your curiosity piqued despite yourself. Slowly, you reached for the bag, feeling the crinkle of the paper beneath your fingers. Peeking inside, you were met with a colorful assortment of convenience store sweets and chips. The sight was so unexpected that it momentarily broke through your anger, leaving you both surprised and amused.

“Hold on, what is this?” you asked, incredulous, pulling out a pack of sour candies and a bag of your favorite potato chips.

He lifted a shoulder into a half shrug, the motion causing his tousled hair to fall slightly over his forehead. A dark blush tinted the tips of his ears, standing out starkly against his pale skin. “I wasn’t really sure what you might like, so I got everything.”

You couldn't help but let out a disbelieving chuckle. The gesture was absurdly extravagant, almost comical, but undeniably thoughtful. Your gaze shifted from the bag to his face, taking in the earnestness in his eyes. The softness of his brown eyes, filled with a mix of anxiety and hope, caught you off guard. Despite the frustration and anger still simmering within you, the sincerity of his actions tugged at your heartstrings.

The gesture was ridiculous, you decided. But as your eyes finally locked with the softness of his brown ones, you couldn’t seem to ignore the swelling in your chest. The warmth of his gaze, combined with the blush that refused to leave his ears, chipped away at your resolve. A smile forced its way onto your lips despite your desire to maintain the angry mask.

“Well, I guess it’s a start,” you conceded, the corners of your mouth curling up despite your best efforts to remain stern.

He exhaled a breath you hadn’t realized he was holding, relief washing over his features. “I’m really sorry about today. It wasn’t fair to you, and I wanted to make it right, even if just a little.”

You sighed, feeling some of the tension leave your shoulders. “It’s not your fault. It’s just... this industry, you know?”

He nodded, understanding evident in his eyes. “Yeah, I get it. It can be tough. But hey, at least you’ve got some snacks now.”

You couldn’t help but laugh at that, the sound lightening the oppressive atmosphere that had settled around you. “True. Thanks for that.”

He grinned, the boyish smile returning and making him look even more endearing as he took a seat in front of you. “Anytime.”

As the two of you continued to talk, the sun began to dip below the horizon, casting long shadows across the park. The earlier tension seemed to dissipate, replaced by a tentative camaraderie that hinted at the possibility of something more. For the first time that day, you felt a glimmer of hope that things might just turn out okay.

박성훈 ── PARK SUNGHOON.

Under the soft glow of city lights and the gentle hum of midnight traffic, Sunghoon stood apprehensively at the entrance of a seemingly lavish apartment complex. The crumpled invitation from Jake was like a heavy weight in his pocket. An internal turmoil raged within him — whether to keep his promise to his friend and attend the gathering or to retreat to the comforting solitude of his bedroom. The flurry of potential outcomes made his head spin, leaving him frozen in place. He couldn’t help but notice the curious glances from the woman behind the front desk, her occasional head tilt suggesting she was trying to figure out what he was doing there, even as she returned her focus to her laptop.

Social gatherings had stopped being Sunghoon’s forte somewhere along the transition from his teenage years to his recent adulthood. Normally, he would have turned down Jake’s invitation without a second thought. But his mother’s worried voice echoed in his mind from their recent phone call, her concern palpable. “You used to have me worried sick every single night when you would go out to all these parties, and now you have me worried sick every night you tell me you’d rather isolate yourself in your room, love.”

Taking a deep breath, Sunghoon willed himself to move forward. The memory of his mother’s concern pushed him to break free from his self-imposed isolation. He finally pressed the buzzer, his heart racing. When the door clicked open, he stepped inside, feeling the unexpected warmth of the building wrap around him in a soothing manner. He sent Jake a quick text, letting him know he would be up in a minute or two.

The elevator ride to the top floor felt interminable, each second stretching out with mounting anxiety. When the doors slid open, he was met with Jake’s bright smile and slightly unfocused eyes. “You made it!” Jake exclaimed, pulling him into a quick hug. Sunghoon managed a smile, the familiar comfort of his currently tipsy friend easing some of his nerves.

As they walked down the corridor towards your apartment, Jake’s enthusiastic chatter filled the air. He rattled on about everyone who’d made it, the music, the food, and all the games he’d missed. Sunghoon tried to absorb some of his friend’s excitement, though part of him still longed to retreat to the safety of his room. The door to your apartment was slightly ajar, and lively music and intoxicated laughter spilled out into the hallway.

Inside, the atmosphere was warm and inviting, with a soft, ambient glow from various lamps and candles. Sunghoon scanned the room, taking in the mix of vaguely familiar and unfamiliar faces. He was pleased to find only a small group present, just as Jake had promised. His eyes finally landed on you, who effortlessly commanded the room’s attention with a level of self-assurance Sunghoon could only yearn to achieve. As if sensing his eyes, you glanced in his direction, finally taking notice of their arrival before making your way over, a welcoming smile on your face that had Sunghoon’s stomach performing pirouettes.

“Jake, you’re back!” You cheered tipsily before focusing on the visibly anxious new guest, bowing as a polite greeting — an action immediately returned. “Is this the friend you told me about? Park Sunghoon?”

The way Sunghoon’s name rolled off your tongue with such sweetness had him reeling. Jake responded for him with an animated nod, slinging his arm around his friend’s shoulder despite being shorter.

“I’m very happy you were able to make it, Sunghoon!” You giggled lightly — a heavenly melody that tugged at Sunghoon’s erratic heart. “Please make yourself at home. There’s food and drinks over there,” you added, gesturing to a table laden with various treats.

As the evening progressed, Sunghoon found himself slowly relaxing, the initial tension easing away. Although he’d made the conscious decision not to consume any alcohol so that he would still be able to bring Jake and himself back home safely, he joined in the laughter, engaged in conversations with other idols, and sampled some of the food. Despite his initial reluctance, Sunghoon was beginning to enjoy himself.

During a lull in the conversations, Sunghoon found himself standing alone on the balcony, looking out over the city lights. The cool night air was a welcome respite from the warmth inside, and he took a moment to breathe deeply, savoring the tranquility. However, his head was tormented by thoughts of you as he almost obsessively replayed a mental film he’d recorded of you throughout the night, capturing candid scenes of you leaning against the wall while talking to one of your guests, sipping your drink between bursts of laughter, engaging in an impromptu dance competition with Jake, and the times he’d catch you watching him from the opposite side of the room with an unreadable expression before looking away timidly. These were memories he hoped to hold close to his heart even if the two of you never crossed paths again after this night. He was so lost in thought that he didn’t hear you approach until you stood beside him.

“Beautiful, isn’t it?” You spoke softly, eyes fixed on the glittering skyline. Sunghoon nodded, feeling an electrifying jolt rush through his veins at the unexpectedness of your company, followed by a strange sense of calm that soothed the fresh spike of his anxiety. The two of you stood in comfortable silence for a while — you simply enjoying the view, and him almost hearing the soft whirring of his mental camera as it recorded the moment for him to save.

“I’m glad you came tonight,” you eventually said, turning to face Sunghoon. There was something in your twinkling gaze that made Sunghoon’s heart skip a beat, an unspoken connection passing between you both.

“Me too,” Sunghoon replied, surprised to realize he meant it. As the two of you continued to talk, an unexpected warmth blossomed in his chest, sensing the creation of an unbreakable red thread that linked you to him. It was both thrilling and terrifying. For the first time in a long while, Sunghoon felt as though he was exactly where he was meant to be.

As the night wore on, the two of you found yourselves drifting away from the main party, your conversation deepening with each passing minute. You discovered shared interests and experiences, revealing parts of yourselves neither were usually eager to share with others. Sunghoon was captivated by the stories of your early days in the industry, the struggles and triumphs that mirrored his own journey.

There was a moment when the laughter died down, and the air between you seemed to crackle with unspoken words that neither of you was brave enough to voice out loud but both seemed to understand. Sunghoon looked into your eyes and felt a magnetic pull, an undeniable connection that made his heart race. He wondered if you felt it too, this strange and exhilarating sensation that was both new and familiar.

You broke the silence, voice soft and sincere. “You know, I’ve been where you are now. The isolation, the doubt…it can be overwhelming. But sometimes reaching out, even if it’s just for a night, can make all the difference. So I’m really glad you’re here tonight.”

Sunghoon nodded, a lump forming in his throat. “I didn’t expect to feel this way tonight,” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper.

You smiled, a warm and understanding expression that made Sunghoon’s heart flutter. “Neither did I,” you replied. “But I’m glad we both took the chance.”

The city lights continued to sparkle below you both, a silent witness to the beginning of something new. As the night drew to a close, Sunghoon knew that this had been more than just an ordinary gathering. It was the start of a bond that held the promise of something deeper, something that could change both of your lives forever.

김선우 ── KIM SEONWOO.

As the limousine pulled up to the grand entrance of the high-fashion show, Sunoo took a deep breath, steeling himself for the evening ahead. Being a part of a rapidly rising KPOP group, he was accustomed to the spotlight, but attending this event alone felt different. The opulent venue buzzed with the energy of the fashion elite, cameras flashing and voices blending into a hum of anticipation. 

Stepping out onto the red carpet, Sunoo was immediately enveloped by the dazzling lights and the flurry of activity. He straightened his impeccably tailored suit, aware of every eye on him. Yet, despite the familiar pressure, there was a unique thrill in the air tonight. As he prepared himself to move forward, his eyes were immediately drawn to a striking figure across from him — another idol, unknown to him, yet governing everyone’s attention with an effortless grace.

You strolled down the velvet red carpet, pausing every few steps to allow the photographers to capture the stunning design adorning your figure, which had been made especially for you. Your movements were fluid, each step exuding confidence and natural charm. As the ambassador for a rival brand, an impeccable aura of sophistication rolled off your skin with an ease that captivated Sunoo in an instant. The way the rays of the setting sun seemed to favor you, casting a perfect golden glow on your flawless features, made it impossible to look away.

Sunoo’s trance was disrupted by the heavy hand of the security guard who had kindly opened the limousine door a moment prior, silently urging him to make haste before the next celebrity arrived. He quickly gathered himself, offering a polite nod to the guard before making his way down the carpet. By the time Sunoo returned his gaze to where your mysterious essence had stood, he was surprised to find you already inside, leaving behind an air of secrecy that lingered in Sunoo’s mind.

Entering the grand hall, Sunoo was greeted by a sea of fashion icons, designers, and celebrities from all around the world mingling under the shimmering chandeliers. The atmosphere was electric, filled with the buzz of conversations and the clinking of champagne glasses. Yet, amidst the glamorous chaos, Sunoo’s thoughts kept drifting back to the enigmatic memory of you.

He navigated through the crowd, exchanging polite greetings and smiles, but his mind was elsewhere. The brief glimpse he had caught of you had sparked a curiosity he couldn’t shake as he found himself subconsciously searching for you. Who are you? What is your story? The questions swirled in Sunoo’s mind, adding a layer of intrigue to the already dazzling event.

As Sunoo settled into his seat, the lights dimmed, signaling the start of the show. The runway came to life with models showcasing the latest collections, each piece more stunning than the last. But even as the fashion show unfolded before him, Sunoo found his eyes wandering to the rows opposite him, searching for that familiar face.

And then, there you were. You were seated just a few rows away, attention fixed on the runway. Sunoo took the opportunity to observe you more closely, noting the confident way you carried yourself, the subtle elegance in your every movement. There was something magnetic about you, a presence that drew Sunoo in and refused to let go.

The fashion show progressed, each segment more captivating than the last, but for Sunoo, the true highlight was the possibility of a single minute with you. As the final model strutted down the runway and the audience erupted into applause, Sunoo knew he had to find a way to introduce himself. This night, under the dazzling lights of the fashion elite, gave him the unmistakable sensation that it might mark the beginning of something extraordinary — such a thing being yourself.

Following the fashion show, Sunoo took a moment to collect himself. The applause gradually subsided, and the room buzzed with excited chatter as attendees began to mingle and move toward the reception area. Sunoo’s heart raced with a mix of anticipation and nerves as he scanned the crowd, seeking another glimpse of you.

The hall was now a swirl of elegant gowns, tailored suits, and sparkling jewelry, with everyone engaged in animated conversations regarding the slew of unique designs they’d just witnessed. Sunoo made his way through the throng, offering polite smiles and hasty bows while his thoughts remained fixated on you. He couldn’t shake the sense of urgency, the need to introduce himself and learn about you who had so effortlessly stolen his sanity.

As he approached the bar, Sunoo finally spotted you standing near a cluster of fashion executives and designers. You were engrossed in conversation, your laughter echoing like a melody above the hum of the crowd. Sunoo hesitated for a moment, gathering his courage before making his way toward you.

Just as he was about to reach you, a voice called out his name. He turned to see his brand’s creative director, a smile on her face as she beckoned him over. Sunoo’s heart sank slightly, but he knew that ignoring her was not an option. With a polite bow, he approached her, engaging in a brief yet lively discussion about the evening’s show and their brand’s latest collection.

As soon as the conversation reached its natural end, Sunoo didn’t waste a second to glance back to where you had been, only to find you had moved on. Panic set in, though he took a deep breath, determined not to let the opportunity slip away. He began to weave through the crowd once more, his eyes scanning the room for any sign of you.

Finally, he spotted you near the entrance to a quieter lounge area, a serene space with plush seating and soft lighting. Sunoo made his way over, his steps quickening as he neared you. He paused just a few feet away, taking yet another deep breath to steady his nerves.

“Excuse me,” Sunoo said, his voice somehow calm yet tinged with an anticipation you didn’t miss. You turned to face him, your eyes meeting his with a curious, welcoming gaze that weakened his knees. “I couldn’t help but notice you during the show. I’m Sunoo, from Enhypen. It is a true honor to meet you.”

A smile spread across your face, genuine and warm. “Hello, Sunoo. I am Y/N from SM Entertainment. It’s a pleasure to meet you as well.”

The conversation flowed easily from there, a mix of introductions, shared experiences, and mutual admiration for the evening’s fashion showcase. As the night wore on, the initial spark of intense curiosity between you grew into a deeper attachment. The surrounding chatter and movement seemed to fade away, leaving just the two of you in a bubble of conversation and laughter.

By the time the evening came to an end, Sunoo knew that the unignorable sense of tonight marking a thrilling new beginning had been correct. As you exchanged contact information and made plans to meet again, there was an unspoken understanding that this thread that linked the two of you, born under the dazzling lights of the fashion elite, held the promise of something truly special.

양정원 ── YANG JUNGWON.

It had been an excruciatingly long time since Jungwon had danced purely for the joy of it, even if he kept this yearning to himself. He was well-aware of the sacrifices demanded by his career when he first started as a trainee, and he would make that commitment again without hesitation. Yet, the craving for dance, like a dormant ember, flared up intermittently, refusing to be extinguished by the relentless demands of his life.

At the moment, Jungwon felt an urgent need to escape, a desperate desire to retreat into solitude where he could breathe without the relentless pressure of work bearing down on him. The large headphones that had pressed into his ears for the duration of the recording session now hung around his neck, heavy with the weight of his mounting frustration. As he watched the producing team, whom he had come to know through each Enhypen album, huddled in private discussion, he felt increasingly isolated. The mics were off, their muted voices blending into an unwelcoming silence that amplified his sense of failure. He had repeated the same lines over and over since he first entered, unable to capture the performance they sought. It was baffling why something that should be simple had become so exasperatingly complex.

After what felt like an eternity, the producers nodded curtly at each other, signaling their agreement. They turned to Jungwon through the subtly tinted glass, their faces betraying a hint of resignation.

“Jungwon,” one of them sighed into the microphone, the voice slightly distorted as it came through the speakers. “I think we should try again next Monday. Please take this time to rest.”

Disappointment pierced through him like a cold, sharp blade. He slumped his shoulders, his gaze dropping to the floor as he gave a solemn nod. Swiftly, he removed his headphones and gathered his belongings. The room was filled with pitiful smiles from the team, but Jungwon was too eager to escape to notice. The confined space was stifling, and he was desperate for freedom. As he trudged down the nearly vacant corridors of the company building, his frustration simmered, bubbling up like molten lava, searing through him with each step.

He searched his mind for a place where he could be alone. Going home was not an option with half his members there, their typical boisterousness far from the sanctuary he craved. Restaurants and coffee shops were possibilities, but he lacked the appetite for anything. And then, as if the universe had taken pity on him, memories of hours spent dancing alone in the company’s dance rooms flooded his mind. It was enough to redirect his aimless wanderings. He made a beeline for the elevator, his steps quickening as excitement surged through him, a welcome escape from the stifling environment. He reveled in the knowledge that no one would question his whereabouts, believing him to still be at the recording booth.

With his heart pounding a rhythm of genuine elation, everything around him blurred into insignificance as he focused solely on his destination. The seconds stretched painfully as he awaited the elevator doors to open. The tip of his tongue seemed to taste the sweet promise of freedom as he finally reached the end of the hall, where the rarely used dance room stood, its door a familiar friend in his moment of need.

Had Jungwon not been so absorbed in his whirlwind of emotions, he might have noticed the soft strains of music emanating from within. Instead, he burst into the room, breathless, only to find himself frozen by the sight before him. There, bathed in the warm, gentle light, was you—dancing with a grace that seemed to defy the ordinary.

You were lost in your world, every movement flowing effortlessly with the tender rhythm of the music. There were no goals to reach, no steps to follow—just a pure expression of emotion that dripped from your every move. You danced as if the weight of the world had melted away, a blissful freedom that Jungwon hadn’t felt in ages. Your dance was a vivid reminder of what it was meant to be before fame had ever touched his life.

To Jungwon, who stood silently by the door, watching in awe, you were completely absorbed in your own realm. The peaceful, contented look on your face made it clear that you were in a moment of serene solitude. He tried to retreat quietly, but stumbled over his own feet, causing you to stop abruptly and turn toward him with wide, startled eyes.

In that instant, the world seemed to collapse around you both, leaving only the connection between your eyes and his. The silence stretched, laden with awkwardness, and you were the first to look away. Jungwon’s heart sank, wishing he could lose himself in your eyes forever.

“I’m sorry,” you said, your voice tentative. “I was just finishing up. I’ll get my stuff and leave.”

The last thing Jungwon wanted was for you to leave in such a rush. He was overwhelmed by conflicting emotions—entranced, confused, dazed, distressed—but the most powerful feeling was the undeniable pull toward you. You, who had suddenly appeared in his world, who moved with effortless grace like a bird in flight, and who had given him the briefest of smiles that seemed to halt his heartbeat. You were an enigma he felt destined to connect with, even if only for a fleeting moment.

Before you could slip past him, Jungwon found himself instinctively reaching out, his hand landing gently on your shoulder. The contact elicited soft gasps of surprise from both of you. His eyes locked onto yours, desperately trying to savor every detail of your features. He realized there might never be enough time to fully appreciate your beauty, but all he wanted was a single minute to bask in your presence. He was acutely aware of his own vulnerability as the desire to remain near you replaced his previous yearning for solitude.

“I don’t believe I’ve ever seen someone dance the way you just did,” he said, his voice barely audible. The blush that colored your cheeks was all the confirmation he needed that you heard him.

“Oh,” you blinked, caught off guard. “Thank you.”

“If you’re not busy,” Jungwon continued, though he was unsure of where his words would lead, “please stay.”

You studied his face, searching for sincerity and intent. Perhaps it was the raw desperation in his brown eyes or the electric tingle of his touch that convinced you. Whatever it was, you decided to stay, offering him a shy but genuine smile. Your heart raced as you noticed the dimples that appeared on his cheeks, a sign of his radiant smile.

And so you stayed. What began as a moment stretched into hours, then weeks, and eventually a lifetime. In that dance room, amidst the echoing melodies and fleeting moments, something truly extraordinary was born.

西村 力 ── NISHIMURA RIKI.

In the bustling expanse of the airport lounge, the soft hum of conversations mingled with the distant announcements of flight departures provided a backdrop to the whirlwind of thoughts in Ni-ki’s mind. Seated amongst  his fellow members, sought a fleeting moment of tranquility before their flight to Tokyo, the next stop on their concert tour. From such a young age, normalcy had been a distant concept, eclipsed by the relentless rush of performances and public appearances that left little room for peaceful introspection. The early morning departure had left them all groggy, their energy sapped by the unforgiving schedule that defined their lives.

Ni-ki leaned back in his seat, his eyes closing as he sought to capture a fleeting sense of peace amidst the chaos. The lounge, a hive of activity, was populated with travelers—some dozing off in their seats, others engrossed in their devices, and a few engaged in low murmurs of conversation. The atmosphere was a curious blend of anticipation and exhaustion, a microcosm of the frenetic life Ni-ki had come to know so well.

When Ni-ki opened his eyes, his gaze drifted across the room, taking in the varied faces of fellow travelers. His eyes settled on a vaguely recognizable group of young idols seated across the lounge, their presence unmistakable even amid the sea of people. Your group, though from a different agency, radiated a camaraderie and vibrant energy that felt oddly familiar. Among them, you stood out—a figure of serene poise amidst the lively chatter of your companions.

Ni-ki’s attention was drawn to you, his curiosity piqued by the quiet aura you exuded. There was a subtle grace in your demeanor that captivated him. You sat with large headphones covering your ears, occasionally glancing around the lounge as if seeking a moment of solitude amidst the bustling environment. Your hair fell gently over your eyes as you absentmindedly adjusted your oversized hoodie, a small, seemingly insignificant action that made you appear both approachable and endearingly shy.

Minutes stretched into an hour as you and Ni-ki waited for your respective flights. While his group members were absorbed in their own activities—some napping, others lost in games or music—Ni-ki found himself increasingly drawn to you. There was something magnetic about your presence, an unspoken allure that made his heart race each time your eyes briefly met. The pull he felt was inexplicable yet undeniable.

You possessed an effortless charm, a quiet confidence that set you apart from the crowd. Ni-ki found himself imagining what your voice might sound like, wondering what thoughts occupied your mind, and what music you might be listening to—all while grappling with his own doubts and shyness that held him back from approaching you. The mystery surrounding you only deepened Ni-ki’s fascination, turning mere curiosity into a profound longing to know more.

Across the lounge, you couldn't shake the feeling of being watched. At first, you thought it was a trick of your imagination, but the sensation persisted. Your sensitivity to the energy around you made Ni-ki’s gaze feel like a gentle but persistent tug. Despite your attempts to focus on your group’s animated conversation, your thoughts kept drifting back to the boy who seemed so captivated by you. You wondered what had caught his attention—was it your appearance? Clad in an oversized hoodie and leggings, with minimal makeup, you certainly didn't stand out in the traditional sense. Or was it your demeanor? You had done little more than sit quietly, attempting to conserve your energy and maintain a reserved presence. Though outwardly calm, your mind was a whirlwind of thoughts, adding to the enigma Ni-ki seemed drawn to.

Finally, a boarding announcement for a flight to Osaka broke Ni-ki’s reverie. He watched as your group began to gather their belongings, preparing to leave. A pang of disappointment struck him, realizing that his chance to approach you and strike up a conversation was slipping away. Just as he was about to redirect his attention back to his own group in a silent acceptance of defeat, he noticed you had lingered behind, your eyes meeting his for a brief, charged moment.

In that fleeting exchange, there was an unspoken connection, a shared understanding that transcended the chaos surrounding you both. You offered a small, almost shy smile before rejoining your group, leaving Ni-ki with a lingering sense of anticipation and curiosity. The way your eyes had held his, as if conveying a silent message, made his heart flutter with a strange, exhilarating hope.

As you followed your group to the boarding gate, you couldn't shake the feeling of Ni-ki’s eyes lingering on you. It was both thrilling and unnerving, sparking a curiosity of your own. In the subtlest way possible, you stole one last glance over your shoulder, finding Ni-ki still watching with an intensity that made your heart race. You smiled to yourself, wondering if fate might bring the two of you together again in the near future.

As you and your group disappeared through the boarding gate, Ni-ki was left contemplating the possibility of your paths crossing again—perhaps amidst the vibrant streets of Tokyo or in the backstage corridors of a concert venue. The brief interaction had left an indelible mark on him, a spark that refused to be extinguished by the routine of his life. Settling back into his seat, Ni-ki’s thoughts drifted back to you, imagining potential conversations, shared laughter, and the possibility of a burgeoning friendship—or hopefully something more—that could blossom in the most unexpected of places.

꒰ 🏷️ ꒱ ミ My permanent taglist is open!

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the fox and the hound

pairing: kim seungmin x afab!reader x yang jeongin

warnings: background poly!ot8 x reader, reader is implied to be younger than jeongin but speaks informally to everyone bc they like it and bc i said so, exhibitionism, voyeurism, cunnilingus, spit kink, biting, mfm threesome, threeway kissing, unprotected sex, pegging, d/s dynamics not specified, seungmin does get plowed by reader though, seungmin and jeongin Nice™️ agenda, spanking, some mxm moments. don’t like don’t read!

a/n: every time i get a commission im like…. no fucking way i got a commission… as always, thank u to the darling who commed this for thinking of me to fulfill your wishes!!!! 🩷 2 more commissioned fics coming soon n then will reopen them for anyone interested :) LOVE U STINKS!

you’d come over earlier under the pretense of a movie night, a marvel movie you’ve all seen too many times to keep track of. it started off innocently enough. jeongin launched himself face first into your lap, and seungmin shouldered himself past minho, laughing all the while, so that he could sit on the side of you that isn’t occupied by jeongin’s long legs. 

seungmin’s head rests contently on your shoulder, fingers plucking at the threading ends of the blanket that covers both of your laps.  

it’s getting too warm. you’d do anything to shuck the blanket off, but the two immovable forces that press you into the couch don’t give you the option. you lightly kick your legs so that air can circulate under the blanket, and jeongin grumbles when the blanket blocks his view of the television. 

jeongin’s never this touchy, which is why all you do is settle your arm over the strawberry blond strands of his hair while he turns around in your lap so that he can wrap his own arm around your waist and bury his face against your stomach. 

hyunjin coos when he notices jeongin snuggling into you. a squawk. ack, so sweet, ayen-ah! he’s sitting beside minho on the opposite couch, always inviting himself into the cuties’ dorm to spend time with the babies and his hyung when he can. of course, you being there is an extra incentive as well. 

your fingers comb gently through jeongin’s hair, and he nuzzles more intently against your stomach. he tugs at the corner of the blanket so it bunches up under his head like a pillow. you hardly pay it any mind, focusing all of your attention again on the movie and scritching at jeongin’s scalp, until he burrows his nose straight into the crotch of your sweatpants. your stomach swoops at the contact, butterflies fluttering, and your fingers tighten in his hair unconsciously. 

he doesn’t stop when you tug on his hair, just breathes in deeply against your clothed core and presses a kiss to the seam of your pants. the gasp you let out is involuntary, and you feel seungmin’s satisfied grin pressing against your shoulder as he looks down at the scene unfolding beside him.

“he must really want a taste,” he breathes into your shoulder, easily covered up by the volume of the movie.

as if spurred on by his hyung’s words, jeongin starts to tug at the band of your sweatpants. you spare a halfhearted glance to hyunjin and minho on the other couch, not wanting to disturb them if they’re really watching the movie like the three of you should be, but you ultimately tilt your hips so jeongin can pull your sweatpants down enough to smush his nose against the crease of your thigh. 

you spread your legs as best you can with the band obstructing your movement, and you have to fight to keep quiet when jeongin’s tongue wriggles against the gusset of your panties. you can barely feel it because of the angle, the pressure just there enough to have you craving his tongue on you bare. he puckers his lips and sucks, pulling the faint taste of your wetness into his mouth from the fabric of your panties.

seungmin reaches down to run his fingers through jeongin’s wavy hair. he scratches at jeongin’s scalp, and you move your arm to rest over his head at the same time, trying your best to hide what’s going on from the rest of the room. you can only do so much when jeongin starts to tug at your panties, finally growing tired of the barrier between the two of you. you lift your hips again, and seungmin helps him pull your underwear and sweatpants to your knees. if minho and hyunjin were to look over, they’d be met with a show. try all you want to hide what’s going on, but you’d have no excuse for your legs being spread wide and jeongin’s head between your thighs.

the angle’s still odd, but jeongin does his best. he uses his fingers to pull up on the mound of your cunt so that he can reach your slit better, and stars burst behind your closed eyelids when his tongue finally touches your delicate little clit. his breath is warm where it hits you, frantic and short puffs of air against your most sensitive parts. he’s excited. excited to taste you, excited to be doing something so naughty right in the living room of his dorm. 

jeongin is enthusiastic in everything he does, and this is no exception. seungmin’s fingers comb through his hair; you can’t tell if the dazed look in jeongin’s eyes is because of your taste or seungmin’s soothing hands. his mouth is deft. he points his tongue in a way that has your back bowing, pressing the point of it against your clit and then pulling away to see the string of spit that connects him to you. over and over and over. 

it’s not long before the combined slick noises of jeongin’s mouth and your soaked pussy rouse the attention of someone a few feet away. 

“hyung, the babies are playing,” hyunjin laughs, bent knee nudging obnoxiously at minho’s thighs to get his attention. jeongin wheezes when he’s finally caught, lips puckering in a kiss against your cunt, and you press him closer to you. safe and sound. his arms wrap around your back. 

“jagi’s pussy is better than thor-hyung, yang jeongin?” minho asks. he cocks his head with a grin. what a bold question from him considering he came buckets in said pussy two nights ago. 

you have a retort on your tongue, but it dies in your mouth when seungmin pushes jeongin further into you by the hair. the only thing leaving your mouth is a squeal as he licks between your folds with a determination only your youngest boyfriend can possess. you reach down to spread yourself for him. 

“good, aegi,” seungmin whispers, and he presses a kiss to the dewy skin of your neck. 

as if summoned by the heightening smells and sounds of sex echoing throughout the dorm, the click of a bedroom door opening draws your attention. felix opens his door and peeks his head out before slyly grinning and making his way to the living area. he’s carrying his phone. 

what a sight the three of you must make. you with your sweatpants and underwear slipping down your shins, jeongin buried in your cunt, and seungmin licking sloppily at your neck. 

“hi, bubby!” felix crows, gremlin voice in full effect as he makes his way to you, socks swishing quickly against the wooden floor. he slips behind the couch and caresses you underneath the chin, guiding your head back so he can lean over and kiss you slowly on the lips. “is jeonginnie doing well?” 

“he eats me so well,” you breathe against felix’s plump, pink lips, and jeongin’s hands tense against your back. 

felix keeps his hand underneath your chin as seungmin peels your pants fully down your legs. now that your lower half is completely bare, he tosses your sweats and underwear at hyunjin and minho on the other couch. 

“that’s not very nice,” you vaguely hear hyunjin say, but when your eyes slide over to him, he’s nosing contentedly at your wet panties. 

with your legs no longer obstructed, you can spread them as wide as you please. jeongin certainly benefits from the added space, and his palms move from your back to the spread of your thighs. he lifts one of them and throws your leg over his shoulder so that it rests over his back. jeongin suckles on your clit, batting that tiny little button with a swift tongue.

“you taste like heaven,” he mumbles into you, a statement you weren’t expecting, but it has your legs twitching regardless. he doesn’t bother to pull his face away from your cunt as he speaks. 

the room erupts into impressed wahhhs and throaty noises of approval, floored over how suave their youngest is. one voice sticks out in particular, however tinny and far away it seems.

“yahhh, iyen-ah! hyung is proud!” seo changbin. felix cackles and turns the volume up on his phone. your 3racha boys must be at the studio working. “that was really smooth. ‘you taste like heaven…’” a joyous giggle and a clap. 

“i’m stealing that,” jisung says right back, serious as a heart attack. 

jeongin pays his hyungs no mind, even the one who still has a hand in his hair. he eats you like he’s starving, sucking noisy kisses up and down the slit of your cunt. you can feel the combination of his spit and your wetness slipping down between your asscheeks. jeongin licks it up dutifully, smiling big and bright against you when it shocks a high pitched whine from your throat. 

“jeongin, o-oh, innie, fuck!” you whimper, and felix soothes under your chin. 

you can’t hold yourself back anymore, not with the attention of your boyfriends on you, even through the speaker of felix’s phone. both of your hands sink into jeongin’s strawberry blonde hair; seungmin moves his out of the way and adjusts himself on the couch, leaning back on the arm of it. at the first harsh roll of your hips, jeongin wheezes. his lips are too sweet, his tongue is too soft. he’s been licking you for so long that you’re bound to cum soon, the bubbling heat in your stomach only strengthened by the frantic rutting of your hips. 

“stick your tongue out, stick your tongue out, lemme…” you beg. jeongin does just that, holding his head still while you hump against his slick tongue. his dazed eyes are half-open, beautiful, deep espresso focused solely on your pleasure-stricken face. 

“you must be doing so well, jeongin-ah,” chan coos over the phone, and jeongin hums in response. the first time he’s spoken up during your tryst and it’s to give praise and reassurance. typical leader, typical chan. 

“of course he’s doing well. you should see our other baby’s fucked out little face,” minho coos. you can only imagine how fucked out you look, eyes wild and tongue half lolling out of your mouth. everything is nearly too much, the attention, jeongin’s delectable mouth. it’s past enough to get you there and further. your legs trap jeongin in place when you cum hard, body locking as your orgasm zings through you like a rocket. your chest bows to the ceiling when your back arches, and felix immediately reaches out a small hand to soothe across your hardened nipples over your t-shirt. 

you shiver when you come down, shakily peeling your wonky legs apart to let jeongin up, but he doesn’t move an inch. he’s content to lay right there, head padded on one of your thighs while he breathes heavily. his cock tents his shorts. 

he cracks a smile though when your fingers smooth through his ruffled and sweaty hair, eyes fluttering open just to crinkle closed again with the force of his sleepy smile.

“you’re so beautiful,” he breathes, and everyone in the room starts to holler once again. 

it’s no surprise that you end up in jeongin’s bed that night. you both get a good night’s rest, of course, only after you sucked him into your mouth, swallowed his cum, and pulled up netflix so you could rewatch jeongin’s favorite marvel scene that you both missed earlier.

it’s no surprise either that seungmin shows up sooner or later, conveniently enough when jeongin slips out of his room to head to the bathroom. 

seungmin crawls onto jeongin’s bed and right into your lap, long legs straddling your waist. 

“hello to you too, seungminnie,” you say, and he bends down to nip at your neck in response. quick little nibbles, soft, insistent, peckish bites that make you scrunch your shoulder to your neck and giggle goofily. “are you corn cobbing me?” 

“meong,” seungmin smiles. just as goofily. you pat him on the back, and he lifts up onto his palms to get a good look at you. 

when jeongin walks back in, your tongue is down seungmin’s throat and your fingers are down the back of his pajama pants. it’s nothing new, not nearly a peculiar sight, but he can hear the slick noises of your kisses from where he’s standing. for how dandy seungmin is to the public eye, he sure does kiss like a dog when he’s horny, messy and wet, tongue out of his mouth while he licks sloppily at yours. jeongin’s cock is chubbing up already.

“really? sneaking into my bed when i’m gone, hyung? that’s dirty.”

seungmin snakes his tongue back into his mouth with a messy slurp. he wipes his chin. “i’m just taking my turn since i didn’t get to last night.”

it’s true; he didn’t. no one did. the second the other members started pulling their pants down to play, jeongin grabbed you and booked it to his room, laughing maniacally and locking the door before anyone could chase you down. 

maknae privileges. 

or maybe they’re just whipped for the two of you.  

it’s getting hot underneath your sweatshirt. you didn’t even remember leaving it here, but jeongin pulled it out of his dresser last night to warm you up when your nipples stayed hard in the chill of his room. it’s a blessing in disguise when seungmin rucks the sweatshirt up to slip his bony hands underneath it. his nails rake gently along the tender skin of your abdomen, and he grins toothily when you shiver. 

“i helped him make you cum last night, you know,” seungmin says, and jeongin guffaws. 

“hyung, that’s a reach. i did that on my own!” 

“yah, i did help,” seungmin challenges back. you distinctly remember seungmin’s hand in jeongin’s hair, keeping him in place and pushing him against you time and time again. kissing and talking lowly into the skin of your sensitive neck. you guess in his own special kim seungmin way, he did help. 

“ah, seungminnie. did we leave you out? my love. daengdaengie, i’m sorry. aren’t we, jeonginnie?” 

jeongin rolls his eyes for so long you swear you’ll never see his pupils again. he presses his lips together and his cheeks crease. he’s trying to hold back a smile, and it finally cracks when he crawls into his bed and expertly dodges seungmin’s kicking foot. 

“yeah, okay. sorry, hyung,” it sounds genuine enough that seungmin doesn’t have a retort. all he does is lean down to kiss you again, tugging your sweatshirt up to your armpits so that your chest is on full display. jeongin props up on his elbow to watch, laying on his side right next to you, eyes honing in on the way seungmin messily licks into your mouth. 

seungmin’s hand smacks against the side of your chest in his haste to grab a handful, pinching your nipple between his long fingers. you throw your head back with a sigh, catching jeongin’s gaze out of the corner of your eye. seungmin’s neat haircut is soft in your hands when you curl your fingers in it. 

“seungminnie,” you sigh, kissing his forehead when he ducks his head to lick at your opposite nipple. 

a choked gasp is shocked from your throat when jeongin’s tongue quickly joins seungmin’s fingers on your other nipple. it’s an overwhelming feeling, two mouths on your chest at once. you wrap your arms around both of their necks to ground yourself. 

“bite- bite them, just a bit. a little bit, please?” you beg. 

you’re lucky the two of them seem to be in a giving mood because they give you what you want without teasing you for wanting it. jeongin’s teeth catch on your nipple before seungmin’s do, and he huffs a laugh through his nose when you whimper. seungmin joins in quickly, playfully growling and scrunching his nose as he bites at your sensitive skin. the pressure is so good, the sting of their front teeth is almost enough to have you pushing their heads away and rubbing your own fingers gently at your tender nipples, but you hold out. 

“you taste like heaven,” seungmin says around your nipple, winking greasily up at you and barely managing to contain his smile while he does it. 

jeongin pulls his mouth from your nipple with a wet pop. “ooh, yah. i wonder where we’ve heard that before.” he swats seungmin on the back of the head, and seungmin does it right back. 

in order to distract them from their impending slap fight, you abruptly sit up and take your sweatshirt all the way off, and your underwear follows next. a new pair, from jeongin’s spare drawer. you can only imagine what hyunjin did with the pair you wore last night. they level each other with one last squinted glance before looking right back at you. 

before you know it, seungmin’s on you again. the only difference this time is that he’s naked. jeongin is too, and he lays beside you again and strokes himself while seungmin kisses you breathless. you’d guessed earlier that this is what seungmin wanted. when your hands slipped down the back of his pajama pants to cop a feel of his ass, his crack was slippery-wet. 

he takes your fingers beautifully, always does. his own fingers are longer than yours, jeongin’s certainly are as well, but seungmin doesn’t complain when you stuff him with three. he can’t complain when his tongue is too busy licking behind your teeth anyway. 

“ahh, yeah. yeah, ‘m ready. come on. get in me, jagi,” seungmin breathes. he sits up on his palms again, and his breath stutters when you lick a stripe up the center of his chest. 

jeongin watches through hooded eyes, but his hand slows down on his cock as seungmin sits up. 

“wait! oh no, wait- i don’t have-?” your strap, how could you miss that? the one thing you really need right now. disappointment unfurls in your chest with the realization you can’t give seungmin what he wants. at least you can watch jeongin fuck him instead, but he squishes your cheeks with his thumb and four fingers and laughs before you really start to spiral. 

“i brought my bag, dummy. you didn’t see?” 

seungmin leans over the edge of the bed and reaches for his bag. you watch jeongin’s eyes follow the arch of his hyung’s back, the curve of his ass, and you know when his eyes stop moving that they’re locked on the slight gape of seungmin’s stretched hole. 

you cock your head at him and raise your eyebrows, pointing your index finger at him like you’re scolding him. jeongin grins and brings his finger to his lips. shhh. 

seungmin procures your handy-dandy harness and his personal favorite light blue dildo from his bag, sitting up straight with it and jiggling it in the air like a lunatic so that it flops all over the place. 

“don’t wiggle my dick like that, you freak,” you say, making grabby hands at your strap. 

with both of their help, you’re strapped up in no time. light blue cock protruding proudly from your groin like it’s meant to be there. you jerk it in your hands, bending your knee and propping your foot up on the bed so you can thrust against the tight, lubed up circle of your fist. you put on a show for them. a bite to your bottom lip, a breathy moan. your nipples tighten as if you’re subconsciously really feeling the grip you have on your strap. 

you’re up on your knees and pressed to jeongin’s chest before you even register that you’re being pulled up. he kisses you hard, tongue slipping into your mouth and tangling with yours. an elegant hand reaches down to continue spreading the lube around your silicone cock. seungmin’s hand rubs at the dip of your back before he joins the kiss himself. it’s messy, always is like this with any of your boys. your lips barely press together, a quick slide, tongues meeting sloppily outside of your mouths before jeongin pulls away to kiss down your neck. 

jeongin’s bed is so soft that it’s almost hard to move. the three of you clumsily position yourselves how you want. seungmin flat on his stomach, you straddling the backs of his thighs, and jeongin kneeling behind you. 

you watch yourself slide into seungmin’s body, his hole soft and pliant, slick with lube. you pause when the head pops in, and you pull it right back out. pushing in again, pulling out. 

“fuck me already, please, just- aiiish. don’t do this to me,” seungmin complains, reaching his arms behind his back to try and pull you in by the hips. 

“sorry, seungminnie. your hole’s just too cute.” and it is! cute and a little hairy, hungry and clenching for your cock. 

sliding all the way inside is easy this time, and seungmin buries his face in the pillow to muffle his cry. you shift your hips minutely so that your position on his thighs is more comfortable. it’s sweet, the way seungmin finally melts into the mattress when you press your palms flat against his back. 

with your ass sticking out the way it is, jeongin slips inside of you just as easily. he always makes the cutest noises when he sheaths himself inside your cunt, a gasped inhale, a shuddery wheeze. 

“oh, god, you’re warm,” he whispers. “it’s- ah, you feel too good. d’you know how soft you are here?” 

you wiggle your ass, and both of your boys moan. you do have a soft pussy, pretty and soft and perfect. you can say that with confidence because each of your eight make you wholeheartedly believe it.

from your spot in the middle, you’re able to rut yourself back and forth, fucking seungmin on your cock and fucking yourself on jeongin’s. a hesitant swat to one of your asscheeks has you speeding up. 

“oh! innie, innie, again. you can do it again,” you cry. you beg, and jeongin smacks your ass once more. it’s not nearly as harsh as a spank from minho, not even as harsh as a spank from chan when you goad him into it, but it’s good because it’s jeongin. he thrusts against you, nearly bouncing you back and forth between him and seungmin. the momentum from your combined thrusts has seungmin moving just as much, leaky cock rutting against the rumpled sheets underneath him as his drool smears on jeongin’s pillow. 

“it’s so good, it feels so good,” seungmin slurs. you yank his head back by his hair. “oh my god, yeah. ohmygod, it’s so good.” 

“it’s so good, meongmeongie?”

you don’t know how you even have the wherewithal to speak. jeongin’s cock feels perfect, he fucks you so well, and in turn, it helps you fuck seungmin well too. the bed creaks with your combined weight and the frantic movement from all three of you. if anyone else is in the dorm, there’s no doubt what’s going on in jeongin’s room. 

seungmin cums first, you’re not surprised. you duck your head to watch the way his tight hole milks your cock, and you lick your thumb, bringing it to his rim to touch it while it clenches. it never takes him long to cum when he has his prostate stimulated, and with his cock rutting against the mattress, he’s a goner. 

you slow to a stop to not overstimulate him, pressing all the way inside until he’s batting at your hips. 

jeongin pulls you back by your shoulders. your strap slips from seungmin’s hole with a slick little noise, and jeongin pulls you until your back is against his chest. 

“i want you to cum,” jeongin grunts. his bony hips slap relentlessly against your ass. “i want you to cum so badly, aegi.” 

seungmin dazedly reaches behind himself and searches for you, patting with his hand until he finds your slick, lube covered, light blue cock. he hasn’t even turned over onto his back, his cheek is smushed against the pillow, yet he wraps his long fingers around your strap regardless. it’s such a sight, he struggles with the motion because of the angle, but even that is oddly sexy. 

“god, i can’t- yeah, ‘m gonna cum, just-” while seungmin jerks your strap, you frantically slip your fingers between your thighs to rub at your swollen clit as jeongin fucks you. you’re sticky wet, nearly dripping down your thighs at this point. 

jeongin keeps his rhythm as steady as he can. the feeling of his cock spearing you open paired with the visual of seungmin sleepily stroking your strap is enough to push you right over the edge. 

“i’m-! cumming, cumming, in-innie, seungminnie, you’re making me cum,” you wail, and jeongin kisses down your spine. 

the clenching of your cunt drags jeongin down with you, and the grunt he gives you is half muted by his bitten lip. he always stops breathing when he cums, going stock-still behind you before he heaves in a deep breath. 

jeongin’s bed isn’t big enough for three people, but that’s never stopped you before, and it won’t stop you now. 

you’re in the middle of them, right where you belong. you’ll all get up in a minute, jeongin will need to strip his bed, someone will need to clean you up and out - you’ll be damned before you do it yourself, and you’ll all need to shower. but it can wait. 

“your O face is stupid,” seungmin grumbles, fingers reaching to entwine with jeongin’s where they rest over your stomach. you snort but rub at their arms regardless. they’re always like this. 

“sure, hyung. and my pillow’s soaked with your drool.”

hi just discovered your blog! would you feel comfortable writing junhan from xdh getting pegged by a soft dom!f!reader for the first time? and the reader could be constantly praising him and tell him how well he’s doing? just a little fluffy if you wouldn’t mind

thank you!!

Hey! Thank you for being my very first Xdinary Heroes request! This was honestly so much fun to write, especially since pegging is one of my favorite kinks. I hope you enjoy it and please feel free to request more if you’d like!

ᥫ᭡ 𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐅𝐄𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍.

Thank you so much 🥺🫶

☔️ BLUE LEMONADE ( newjeans )

❛ A chance meeting over a blue lemonade at a coffee shop sparks an awkward crush, culminating in a rainy-day confession that transforms your timid connection into the start of something new as you walk to school together.

𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐢 𝐩𝐡𝐚𝐦 + gender neutral reader ೯ ( 𝐨𝐧𝐞-𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐭 )

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 5.5k 𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞: 22 mins

꒰ 💌 ꒱ ミ Say hello to my very first girl group request (made by the lovely @dgybbvrcsacgswtcbkyv)! And honestly my first published girl group piece in general! Hopefully more will be posted soon! I hope you guys enjoy, reblogs and feedback are much appreciated! Requests are currently open! ── ( 𝐥𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐲 )

𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: High School AU, Strangers-to-Crushes, Y/N works at a coffee shop in the mornings before school, Hanni is the school's popular girl, they're both painfully awkward and a little dorky, Y/N gets ghosted for two days, Y/N is implied to be a bit taller than Hanni, let me know if I missed anything!

( 𝐠𝐮𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐬 ) ( 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 & 𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬 ) ( 𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 ) ( 𝐭𝐢𝐩 𝐣𝐚𝐫 )

The first light of dawn had only just begun to stretch across the city when you found yourself tucked behind the counter of a quaint coffee shop, the scent of freshly ground beans swirling around you. The world outside was still waking, the streets bathed in the soft glow of early morning, with only a few souls braving the chill air. It was a quiet hour, the kind that allowed your thoughts to drift as you worked, hands moving almost on their own as you prepared each steaming cup.

It was in this serene moment that the melodic voice of Hanni Pham cut through the stillness, sending an involuntary shiver down your spine. "Aren’t you from my school?" she asked, her tone curious yet soft, as if the question itself carried the weight of familiarity. 

Startled, you looked up, your heart skipping a beat as you met her gaze. There she stood, the popular girl everyone knew, her presence commanding the small space. Her dark hair fell in soft waves around her face, and her eyes, bright and inquisitive, were fixed on you. 

You had always admired Hanni from afar, her warmth and kindness setting her apart from the rest, but in this unexpected encounter, you couldn’t help but brace yourself for the worst. The echoes of cruel laughter from your peers lingered in your mind, and despite knowing that Hanni wasn’t like the others, a part of you feared that she might still find a way to mock you, just as so many others had done before.

Yet, as you stood there, words caught in your throat, you realized that the girl before you seemed genuinely interested, her expression free of malice. There was no hint of the cruelty you had grown accustomed to; only the simple, honest curiosity of someone who recognized you and wished to connect.

You watch her through the veil of your lashes, barely daring to breathe as you hum in response to her question. The gentle sound of your confirmation seems to light up Hanni’s face, and you find yourself captivated by the way her smile widens, a warmth blooming in her eyes that seems to chase away the lingering shadows of the early morning.

“That’s so cool,” she murmurs, her voice soft and almost reverent as she takes in the cozy atmosphere of the café. The sincerity in her words takes you by surprise, and before you can stop it, a faint blush rises to your cheeks, your heart fluttering in a way that’s both unfamiliar and strangely comforting.

Gathering the courage to speak, you mumble, “What can I get you?” The words are barely above a whisper, your anxiety weaving them into a quiet melody that seems to float between you. Yet, despite your hushed tone, Hanni hears you, her gaze shifting to the menu hanging above you as she ponders her choice.

Her cheeks puff out slightly as she thinks, a gesture so endearing that it momentarily distracts you from your own nerves. You can’t help but notice the way her fingers fidget with the straps of her backpack, a subtle sign of her own anxiety. Somehow, seeing this small vulnerability in her makes you feel a little more at ease, as if you’re not the only one grappling with uncertainty in this unexpected moment.

“I’d like a lemon poppy seed muffin,” Hanni finally decides, her voice breaking the quiet. You quickly enter her order into the register, your fingers moving almost automatically as you try to steady your racing thoughts. Just as you’re about to hand her the receipt, she speaks again, her next question catching you off guard.

“What cold drink would be good with the muffin? There are so many options here that I wouldn’t know where to even start,” she admits with a light laugh, her eyes meeting yours once more.

The question hangs in the air, and for a moment, you’re at a loss for words. But then, you realize she’s genuinely seeking your opinion, and the thought fills you with a quiet sense of responsibility, as though this small decision is more important than it seems.

You take a moment to consider her question, the weight of her expectant gaze making your heart flutter. After a brief pause, you finally gather the courage to speak, your voice soft but sincere. “Well, I personally am a fan of the blue lemonades we have here. It’d pair well with the muffin.”

The morning light seems to dance in Hanni’s gentle eyes as she listens, her smile widening with a warmth that feels like the sun’s first embrace. She nods, her decision made with an easy grace that makes your chest tighten in the best possible way. “Well, then please add a blue lemonade to my order,” she says, her tone filled with a sweetness that lingers in the air like the scent of freshly baked pastries.

You nod, feeling a sense of quiet satisfaction as you prepare her drink, the task becoming almost meditative under the soft glow of her attention. The way she watches you, so trusting and kind, makes you want to do everything just right, to ensure that her experience is as lovely as she is.

When you finally hand her the cool, vibrant blue lemonade, the smile that spreads across her face as she takes the first sip is nothing short of enchanting. There’s a delightful hum that escapes her lips, a sound of pure contentment that resonates in the small space between you, and it’s all you can do to keep your composure.

Even as you clock out and begin your walk toward school, the memory of that moment clings to you like a cherished melody. You can still see her, bathed in the soft morning light, savoring the drink you had carefully prepared. The image of her satisfied smile and the gentle hum of approval replay over and over in your mind, a loop of warmth and wonder.

As you walk, you can’t help but marvel at how someone could possess such an infectious gentleness, a quality that seemed to radiate from her in waves, touching everything around her with its light. It leaves you pondering the possibilities of what it would be like to know her better, to be in the presence of someone who carries such precious warmth within them.

Throughout the day, you caught fleeting glimpses of Hanni as she navigated the bustling corridors of the school, her presence commanding attention without effort. She moved with a graceful ease, surrounded by the usual throngs of admirers and friends, her laughter a melodic thread that wove through the cacophony of voices. It was nothing out of the ordinary—just Hanni being the bright, beloved figure she always was.

But then there was that moment. A moment that took you by surprise, slipping into your day like a whispered secret. Seeking refuge from the noise and chaos of school life, you had retreated to your usual hiding spot behind the school building. It was a place technically off-limits, a secluded nook that offered a rare pocket of silence, where you could steal a few precious moments to yourself. Despite the risk to your perfect record, the solace it provided was worth it, and so you continued to visit, cloaked in the comfort of your solitary sanctuary.

Unbeknownst to you, Hanni had spotted you slipping away and, driven by a quiet curiosity, decided to follow. You were completely unaware of her presence until you looked up to find her standing there, her figure framed by the soft light filtering through the trees. She smiled down at you with that same kind, gentle glint in her eyes, the warmth of her expression melting away the edges of your solitude.

Caught off guard, you felt your heart race as you struggled to find something—anything—to say. Your hiding spot, once a bubble of safety and comfort, suddenly felt exposed under her gaze. Yet, there was no judgment in her eyes, only a serene interest that made you feel oddly understood, as if she, too, sought moments of quiet in a world that never seemed to slow down.

As she approached, your thoughts wavered, torn between wanting her to stay and wishing to retreat back into the silence that had been your companion. But before you could resolve the conflict in your heart, the moment was interrupted. Hanni’s name rang out from across the courtyard, one of her friends calling her back to the lively world she inhabited.

For a brief second, Hanni hesitated, her gaze lingering on you. Then, with a timid wave and another one of those radiant smiles that seemed to light up the air around her, she turned and rejoined her friends, leaving you alone once more. But even as she walked away, the flutter in your chest remained, a gentle echo of the unexpected encounter that left you wondering what might have been had she stayed just a little longer.

You had initially assumed that Hanni’s sudden interest in you, sparked by that brief encounter at the coffee shop, would fade into a distant memory by the next day. It seemed impossible that someone like her would remember you, let alone seek you out again. So when the gentle chime of the bell above the door signaled the arrival of a new customer, you had no reason to expect anything out of the ordinary.

But as you turned your attention from the old, well-worn coffee machine to the door, your breath caught in your throat. There she was, Hanni Pham, her presence as radiant as the morning light spilling through the windows. Her bright eyes locked onto yours, and her smile—so warm, so familiar—seemed to light up the entire room. In that instant, you froze, your mind struggling to process the reality of her standing there, just as it had the day before.

For a moment, you could only stare, wide-eyed and motionless, as she patiently waited for you to finish preparing the coffee for the customer before her. Her unwavering gaze held a kindness that made your heart skip a beat, and by the time you moved back behind the cash register, your hands were trembling, betraying the nervous excitement bubbling within you.

“Hi again,” she greeted you with a polite bow, her voice carrying a surprising cheerfulness that contrasted sharply with your own weary state. There was no trace of the exhaustion you felt from the early morning hours, only an infectious energy that made it impossible not to smile in return.

Despite your nerves, a timid smile found its way to your lips as you mirrored her bow, your heart fluttering at the sight of the school’s most popular girl standing before you once more. Hanni’s presence seemed to fill the space around her with a brightness that made everything else fade into the background, and as you met her gaze again, the familiar sensation of your pulse quickening reminded you just how deeply her unexpected attention affected you. 

“Hello,” you managed to reply, though your voice was softer than you intended, a reflection of the sudden shyness that had taken hold of you. There was a slight tremor in your words, a delicate vulnerability that felt impossible to hide. “Welcome back. What can I get for you today?”

Hanni’s smile remained unwavering, a warm, gentle curve that seemed to carry the morning’s light within it. You couldn’t help but notice how the early sunrays, filtering through the shop’s windows, wrapped around her figure like an ethereal halo, casting her in a soft, almost angelic glow. It was as if the world conspired to make her appear even more enchanting, and you found yourself momentarily lost in the quiet radiance she brought with her.

“Yesterday’s muffin was delicious,” she began, her voice as sweet as the treats you served. “But my favorite was the blue lemonade you suggested. So I came back to order it again.” Her words were simple, yet the sincerity in her tone made your heart flutter. As she stepped closer to the counter, resting her elbows on the surface and cupping her cheeks with a childlike charm, you felt a warmth spread through your chest.

The proximity between you suddenly felt too close and yet not close enough, creating a dry lump in your throat that you struggled to swallow. Her presence was almost overwhelming, an intoxicating mix of kindness and curiosity that left you feeling exposed. You nodded timidly, your fingers moving to enter her order into the cash register, though your mind was a flurry of emotions that threatened to unravel your calm facade.

The price of her order tumbled out of your mouth in a hurried, tangled mess, your voice betraying the nervousness that had taken root within you. Desperate to escape the intensity of her gaze, you quickly turned your back to her, focusing all your attention on preparing her drink. The simple task became a lifeline, something to anchor you as you navigated the storm of feelings that her presence had stirred up.

Even as you busied yourself with the routine motions of mixing the drink, you couldn’t shake the awareness of Hanni standing just a few feet away. Her energy filled the space between you, a subtle yet undeniable force that pulled at the edges of your composure. You wondered if she could sense the effect she had on you, if she noticed the way your hands trembled slightly as you worked. And as you prepared her blue lemonade, you couldn’t help but feel that this small, shared moment was something more—something significant that neither of you fully understood yet.

Eventually, you mustered the courage to turn and face her, offering a shy smile as you gently placed her order onto the counter. Hanni hadn’t moved from her spot, still resting her elbows on the counter, her face delicately cradled in her hands. There was a peculiar sense of intrigue in her gaze, a quiet curiosity that sent your heart into a sudden, uneven rhythm. The way she watched you, as if you were the most fascinating thing in the room, made it nearly impossible to meet her eyes.

With a polite bow, you expressed your gratitude for her purchase, though your voice felt small under the weight of her attention. But Hanni didn’t move, her fingers tightening slightly around the paper bag that held her breakfast, a subtle sign of nervousness that mirrored your own. You tried to focus on anything else, but the magnetic pull of her presence was inescapable.

As the silence stretched between you, curiosity finally got the better of you, and you hesitantly looked up, wondering if there was something more she wanted. But the sight that greeted you left you breathless—a soft gasp escaping your lips as your eyes fell on the small daisy held delicately in her free hand. The sight of it was unexpected, and yet it felt like a small, precious gift, laden with unspoken meaning.

Hanni’s cheeks were tinged with a delightful shade of crimson, her flustered expression revealing a vulnerability that only endeared her to you more. There was something so sincere, so utterly charming about the way she stood there, clearly uncertain but still daring enough to offer this simple token.

Before you could find the words to respond, Hanni quickly placed the daisy on the counter, her movements rushed and clumsy, as if she were caught in a whirlwind of emotions. And just as swiftly as she’d offered the flower, she turned and hurried out of the store, her departure leaving you standing there in a daze, the tiny daisy resting between you as the only evidence of the moment you’d just shared.

As you stared at the delicate flower, a smile slowly spread across your face, the warmth of the encounter lingering long after Hanni had gone. There was a quiet magic in that brief exchange, something that left your heart fluttering with possibilities you hadn’t dared to imagine before.

The delicate petals of the daisy, left thoughtfully on the counter, held your gaze as you turned it over in your fingers. It seemed to have been plucked from someone's garden, its simplicity making the gesture all the more touching. A warmth spread through your chest, swelling your heart with a mix of surprise and quiet joy. You couldn't help but giggle softly, the sound escaping as you replayed the moment in your mind—the timid way Hanni had offered the flower, her usual composure replaced by an endearing awkwardness.

It felt almost surreal to think of Hanni Pham, the girl admired by so many, standing before you in such a flustered state. At school, she was always the picture of confidence, effortlessly navigating the throngs of students who adored her. Yet here she was, reduced to nervousness by something as simple as a daisy. The contrast was striking, and it made the encounter feel all the more intimate, like you had glimpsed a side of her that few others ever saw.

As your shift came to an end, you reluctantly changed into your school uniform, your thoughts still lingering on the unexpected exchange. Carefully, you slipped the daisy into the front pocket of your shirt, feeling its gentle weight against your heart. The thought of seeing Hanni again at school filled you with a mix of anticipation and hope. Perhaps she would notice the flower in your pocket, and understand just how much you appreciated her sweet, unspoken message.

But as the day wore on and you wandered the familiar hallways, your eyes scanning the crowds, a sense of disappointment began to creep in. No matter where you looked, Hanni was nowhere to be found. The absence of her bright smile and warm presence left you feeling strangely empty, as if a small but significant part of your day was missing. And as the hours passed, you couldn't help but wonder if the moment you'd shared had meant as much to her as it had to you, or if it had simply been a fleeting gesture, lost in the flow of time.

Two days had slipped by since Hanni Pham last stepped into the cozy coffee shop where you worked, and though she had only visited twice before, her absence was keenly felt. A quiet sense of disappointment settled over you, mingled with confusion at the sudden shift between you. What had changed? Had you somehow messed up her lemonade in your nervousness the last time she was there? The thought nagged at you, as did the unsettling possibility that her visits had been part of some cruel joke—a way for her and her friends to laugh at your awkwardness.

Yet, despite these doubts, the daisy she left behind held your skepticism at bay. It was a simple, delicate thing, but it had spoken volumes—a gesture that seemed too genuine to be part of any prank. The memory of that moment, her flustered expression and the way she had hurried out of the shop, kept replaying in your mind, offering a glimmer of hope amidst your uncertainty. Maybe, just maybe, there was more to her visits than met the eye.

Since then, you had crossed paths with Hanni a few times, though each encounter was more awkward than the last. Every time your eyes met across the school grounds, a flush would creep up her cheeks, and she would quickly avert her gaze before hurrying off, leaving you standing there with a mix of bewilderment and curiosity. It was as if the daisy had created an invisible thread between you, a connection that neither of you fully understood yet couldn’t ignore. And as the days passed, you couldn’t help but wonder what had really changed, and whether that fragile thread would ever be strengthened—or if it would simply unravel, leaving you with nothing but the memory of a fleeting smile and a flower wilting in your pocket.

You found yourself staring through the large windows of the coffee shop, eyes narrowed at the relentless downpour outside. The rain fell in heavy sheets, turning the world beyond the glass into a blur of gray and silver. The day had begun with a slight humidity hanging in the air, a remnant of the previous night's showers. You'd assumed that as the hours passed, the weather would warm, and the clouds would part. Yet here you were, watching as the rain refused to let up, silently cursing yourself for not bringing an umbrella—just in case.

Frustration simmered within you as you glanced toward your sleepy boss, who was slowly shuffling through receipts at the counter. Hope flickered briefly as you approached him, thinking perhaps he might have a spare umbrella stashed away somewhere—something to shield you from the impending drenching on your walk to school. But when he looked up at you with a pitiful expression, his lips forming a small, regretful frown, your heart sank. The unspoken words hung between you: there was no umbrella, no shelter from the storm.

The realization settled over you like a damp fog, and your shoulders slumped in resignation. You would be forced to face the harsh rain, its cold fingers reaching for you the moment you stepped outside. The thought of trudging through the downpour, schoolbag clutched protectively to your chest, sent a wave of irritation coursing through you. Yet, beneath that frustration, a quiet resolve began to form. You could handle a little rain, even if it meant arriving at school soaked to the bone. The day, after all, had to go on, and so would you—even if it meant battling the elements on your own.

Taking a deep breath, you steeled yourself for the discomfort awaiting you—a day where your clothes would cling to you like a second skin, soaked through with rainwater. The thought of spending hours in a wet uniform, cold and miserable, while enduring the stares of your classmates made your stomach twist with dread. There was no escaping it now, though, and no one to blame but yourself for not being wise enough to carry an umbrella, despite the unpredictable weather.

As you stepped out onto the slick sidewalk, the rain assaulted you immediately, each droplet stinging like a million tiny needles against your skin. You broke into a brisk jog, your feet splashing through puddles as you hurried toward the school. The dark clouds above loomed ominously, their wrath evident in the relentless downpour that showed no signs of relenting.

Clutching your backpack tightly to your chest, you bowed your head low in a futile attempt to shield your belongings from the soaking rain. The chill of the wet fabric seeped through your uniform, clinging to your body uncomfortably, making every movement a reminder of your unfortunate situation. With each step, the wetness seeped deeper, the cold tightening its grip on you as you pushed forward, determined to reach the relative shelter of the school as quickly as possible.

A torrent of curses swirled in your mind as you hurried through the relentless downpour, your drenched hair constantly slipping into your eyes, obstructing your vision. Each time you swiped it away, the rain would only force it back, a ceaseless battle that left you increasingly frustrated. Your breath came in ragged, exhausted pants, and with each step, a wave of pure misery washed over you as you realized just how much further you still had to go before reaching the safety of your school. The thought alone was enough to make your heart sink even deeper into despair.

Then, as if the universe had decided to offer you a sliver of mercy, you heard a voice—a familiar one—shout your name from behind. Startled, you nearly stumbled, your momentum causing you to skid to a halt as you spun around, searching for the source of the call. You didn't know who it could be, but you certainly hadn't expected to see Hanni Pham, completely dry under the shelter of a bright blue umbrella, sprinting toward you with surprising speed.

Her cheeks were flushed, though you quickly rationalized that it must have been from her running. You stood there, drenched and slightly bewildered, as she closed the distance between you, your heart racing—not just from the physical exertion but from the unexpected sight of her. Hesitantly, you waited, unsure of what to expect, as she caught up to you, her presence like a beacon of unexpected warmth in the cold, miserable rain.

Hanni reached out clumsily, her hand gripping your shoulder as she stumbled, nearly colliding with you in her haste to stop. She barely managed to avoid knocking you over, her breath coming in short, labored gasps as she tried to regain her balance. The umbrella she held hovered above the two of you, offering a small but much-needed refuge from the relentless rain. You couldn’t help but release a relieved sigh, though you had to hunch down slightly to fit under the cover, given her shorter stature. Despite the awkwardness of the situation, you tried your best to ignore the maddening flutter of your heart caused by her unexpected kindness.

While you were grateful for her sudden appearance, a mild irritation simmered beneath the surface. It had been two days since Hanni had seemingly vanished from your life after being so unexpectedly kind toward you. And now, here she was, as if nothing had happened. To you, it didn’t matter that, according to the unspoken rules of your high school’s social hierarchy, someone as beloved and popular as Hanni Pham wasn’t supposed to be seen interacting with someone like you, someone considered so low on that very same ladder. You were well aware of the invisible barriers meant to keep your worlds apart, but in that moment, none of it mattered.

What did matter was the fact that Hanni had, of her own volition, turned your plain and awkward interactions into something else when she plucked a daisy and left it for you at the coffee shop, her cheeks ablaze with an emotion you couldn’t quite decipher. It wasn’t fair for her to initiate such a change and then leave you hanging, avoiding you as if nothing had happened. As Hanni finally straightened her posture, catching her breath and seemingly ready to speak, she was met with your carefully guarded but unmistakably annoyed expression. You regarded her with a mix of curiosity and frustration, waiting for the explanation you felt you deserved.

Despite the chilly edge in your gaze, Hanni made an effort to appear nonchalant. Her laughter, though light, betrayed a tremor of nervousness as she twirled the ends of her slightly damp hair around her finger. Even in your state of irritation, you found yourself inexplicably charmed by the sight of her. Her eyes, despite the oppressive gray clouds and relentless rain, sparkled with a warmth reminiscent of the gentle morning sun that would occasionally filter through the coffee shop's windows, casting a soft, inviting glow.

You maintain your composure, raising a single eyebrow at her as she fumbles to address the situation. “Uh, it’s a good thing I spotted you and had my umbrella,” she murmured, her voice nearly swallowed by the cacophony of rain. The casualness in her tone only served to heighten your irritation. It was clear she wanted to gloss over the fact that she had vanished for two days without a word, and you were determined not to let her do so. 

With a hint of measured annoyance, you replied, “It’s good to see you again, Hanni.”

Her reaction was immediate—an almost imperceptible wince at the subtle bite in your voice. For the first time since her transfer to your school, you saw her frown, and the sight of it struck you with a pang of guilt. The weight of knowing you were the cause of that rare expression was almost suffocating. Yet, despite the tug of empathy in your chest, you knew you had to stand firm. You weren’t someone to be manipulated or dismissed, and you refused to be treated as a mere pawn in whatever game she might have been playing.

"I noticed you kept the flower I gave you in your front pocket all day," she began softly, her gaze fixed on the wet pavement as if seeking comfort in its familiarity. "It looked really nice." Her words were barely above a whisper, and you responded with a half-hearted hum, trying to ignore the rapid fluttering of your heart. Hanni let out a quiet, defeated sigh as she finally summoned the courage to meet your unyielding gaze. "Look, I panicked, okay?"

Her sudden confession caught you off guard, your eyes widening in surprise as your lips parted slightly. A deep crimson blush crept up her cheeks, but despite the embarrassment, she held her gaze steady, even as her hands trembled while keeping the umbrella positioned over both of you, shielding you from the relentless downpour. "You’ll probably think I’m some crazy stalker, but here goes: I’ve had this silly little crush on you for the past year, and it all started one Saturday while you were working. I just stood there, watching you do your thing. You have this kind and soft smile that really caught my attention. And I promise, I wasn’t following you or anything, but after that, I just kept seeing you everywhere. You’re so quiet, and I really wanted to get closer to you. 

"One day, I decided I’d try sitting with you at lunch, but you kept disappearing somewhere, and I could never find you. So, I kind of gave up for a while. Then, the other day, I forgot to eat breakfast and ended up stopping by your shop, not even knowing you worked there in the mornings. And, well, the next day, I stupidly gave you that flower out of nowhere, and then I just got really embarrassed. I couldn’t look at you after that because I was so sure you thought I was some weirdo or something. And maybe I was because I kept watching you from afar, hiding, and I noticed you were looking for me in all the places I usually hung out. But I still couldn’t bring myself to come out. Until today."

Hanni inhaled deeply as she concluded her startling confession, her chest rising and falling with the weight of words she had kept bottled up for so long. It dawned on you that she hadn’t taken a single breath as she rambled on, pouring out her heart without pause. You stood there, stunned, as her words echoed in your mind, causing a whirlwind of emotions and thoughts to spiral within you. 

You struggled to make sense of it all, your mind racing back through the year’s memories, searching for any sign that might have hinted at her feelings. But try as you might, you couldn’t recall a single instance where Hanni had paid you any mind. All this time, you had believed you were invisible to her, just another face in the crowd, irrelevant in the bright, popular world she inhabited. The realization that you had been wrong, that she had noticed you all along, was a revelation you never expected—certainly not now, and certainly not like this.

Of course, you had always found Hanni intriguing. There was something about her that drew your gaze whenever she was near, a quiet magnetism that you could never fully explain. But you had kept your distance, never daring to imagine that your paths would ever truly cross. It was safer that way, you thought—to admire her from afar, to keep her at the edges of your thoughts, a fleeting presence that you could easily dismiss. That was, until she walked into the coffee shop where you worked for the first time, shattering the careful distance you had maintained.

You couldn't help but feel a wave of fondness wash over you as you observed Hanni, her wide eyes filled with anticipation, brows furrowed in a mix of worry and hope. The frown that lingered on her lips tugged at your heartstrings, and despite the frustration you’d felt moments ago, your resolve began to crumble. Slowly, a warm smile spread across your face, softening the tension that had hung between you.

“You’re so silly, you know that?” you teased, letting out a light giggle as you playfully poked her cheek. The irritation you’d held onto melted away, replaced by the warmth of the moment.

Hanni let out a sigh of relief, her own giggle bubbling up to join yours. The sound was contagious, and you found yourself laughing along with her, the earlier awkwardness dissolving into the gentle rhythm of your shared laughter.

“Let’s walk to school together, yeah?” you asked, your voice tender and inviting. You could hardly contain the surge of affection that welled up inside you when Hanni’s entire face lit up in response. Her eyes sparkled with a happiness that was impossible to miss, and she nodded vigorously, her excitement palpable.

Without another word, the two of you turned to walk side by side, the rain now a mere backdrop to the warmth that blossomed between you. For the first time, you found yourselves heading to school together, a quiet sense of joy settling into the space you shared.

꒰ 🏷️ ꒱ ミ My permanent taglist is open! (Click on the link to join! All you have to do is answer a few questions to help me stay organized!)

🍉 FROM THE RIVER TO THE SEA, PALESTINE WILL BE FREE! DAILY CLICKS!

hi it’s green again 😙

i’ve been thinking a lot about han and his line on the volcano song: “yeah you can hurt me, i don’t care / yeah you can burn me / yeah you can hurt me, i don’t care / yeah you can burn me / unlike those who run away from you, i’ll embrace you”

i just think it’s so raw and so so beautiful, but i have no idea what to write with it. try as i might, i can’t come up with a solid idea right now. so i was hoping you could? i loved what you wrote for my last request, so i thought of you ❤️

Bittersweet

Pairing: Bestfriend!Han Jisung x gn!reader

Genre: Angst

Warnings: Mentions of getting burned and stabbed (figuratively)

Words: 601

Summary: Jisung could never shake his crush on you, even when you were younger. His feelings grew with each passing second. But, as they say, love is painful.

A/n: This ignited something within me, because I immediately knew I wanted to do a forbidden love type of thing, and I wrote this all in one sitting. Uhh, hope you like it! Thank you for being so amazing, green!

Volcanos are one of life's most dangerous beauties. They erupt glowing orange lava that you could stare out for hours, but get too close and you'll get burned. The best you can do is watch from a safe distance. It's a bittersweet experience, really. You get to witness something so beautiful, and while that may he enough for some people, it's not enough for others.

That was the one word that always popped into Jisung's head when he was with you: volcano. You are the most beautiful person he's ever known, and he always feels warm around you... but he knows he can't get too close. You're his best friend, you have been for years, but he can't get too close. Not when he knows what would happen.

You're not his- this is something he had to come to terms with years ago when you got together with your current boyfriend. No matter how much he wishes he could have you for himself, finally be able to bask in your warmth without worrying about the consequences... he can't.

So he has to force himself to be content with just being your best friend. Someone you have and love, but not in the way he wants. He can't touch you or hold you in ways that he dreams of, and while that crushes his heart, he knows it's for the best.

Seeing you smile when you talk about your boyfriend is such a bittersweet experience. He gets to witness your beautiful smile, but he knows he's not the cause of it. He knows that someone else, someone who gets to kiss you and hold you the way he's only ever dreamed, loves you and has you forever.

The worst part is, you're right there. You're so close yet so far, and it breaks him into pieces. He gets to be near you, and talk with you until the sun goes up, but he doesn't get to truly show you how much you mean to him. How much he thinks about you every day and every night of his life... because you're not his.

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"Hannie, look what my boyfriend got for me! He remembered that I was looking at this sketchbook when we went to the mall, so he got it for me. Isn't that so sweet? He also got me a new pack of markers to go along with it," you spoke with a wide grin on your face, which made Jisung smile in return, even though he had to bite his tongue.

Every time you spoke about him, gushed about him, he felt like he was being stabbed in the heart. Each new gift he got you was like a twist of the knife, and he felt himself bleed out. You gave him life, with your warm smile and beautiful eyes, but you also killed him, slowly.

"That's thoughtful of him," he spoke softly, his eyes scanning over your features like he has thousands of times. Despite the fact that he has every little detail of you memorized, he still takes his time to make sure your face was tattooed into his brain. As if he was nervous you would slip away from him at any moment.

So yeah, you hurt him every time you talked about your boyfriend, but you also cured him like no other medicine could when you smiled or laughed. He knew he couldn't have you in the way he wishes he did, but he was okay with that. Because like a volcano erupting beautiful lava, he had to watch from afar.

Or he would be burned.