#dino soft angst

[amyzworldds]

Part Two: Thirteen Cheers for Fourteen

Masterlist | Part 1

In a whirlwind of hate and heartbreak, Y/N, the lone female maknae of Seventeen, faces relentless backlash from fans, pushing her to leave the group and vanish abroad. After a year of silence, she returns to Korea, forging a solo path with a powerful comeback, while the thirteen boys grapple with her absence. Pairing: Seventeen x 14th member Genre: Fluff, Humor, lil bit of angst

The past few months had flown by in a whirlwind for Y/N. Her solo comeback was locked and loaded—tracks mastered, choreography polished, music video edits finalized. The announcement had dropped a week ago, a sleek press release from her company that sent shockwaves through the industry. News outlets picked it up fast, headlines flashing her name: “Y/N Returns: Solo Debut Set to Redefine Her Legacy.” Carats—those who’d loved her even through the storm—flooded social media with support. “We’re so proud of you, Y/N.” “You’ve always been enough.” “Welcome back, uri maknae.” She’d scrolled through the comments late one night, her chest tight with something she hadn’t felt in years: gratitude.

Seventeen had finished their world tour a month ago, their triumphant return splashed across every K-pop platform. She’d watched clips—Seungkwan’s goofy waves to the crowd, Mingyu’s dimpled grin, Hoshi’s wild energy. They were back in Seoul now, back in the HYBE building, but their paths never seemed to cross. She’d linger by the elevators sometimes, half-hoping to hear Dino’s laugh or catch Joshua’s quiet hum, but it was always silence. She wanted to see them—God, she was ready—but the thought of texting first made her stomach twist. What if they were mad? What if they’d moved on? She’d left them without a word; maybe she’d look like a fool reaching out now.

That afternoon, she’d been halfway out the door with her manager, headed to a meeting, when she froze. “My laptop,” she muttered, patting her bag. “I left it in the practice room.”

Her manager sighed, glancing at his watch. “Hurry. I’ll wait in the car.”

She bolted back into the HYBE building, sneakers squeaking on the polished floor as she darted for the elevator. It dinged open just in time, and she slipped inside, tapping her foot impatiently as it climbed to the fourth floor. The practice room was down the hall—she’d grab the laptop and be out in thirty seconds. No big deal.

She shoved the door open, breathless, expecting an empty room. But then she stopped dead.

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The Seventeen practice room was a mess of noise and motion, the kind of chaos only thirteen boys could create. Hoshi and DK were mid-argument over who’d eaten the last protein bar, their voices overlapping in a ridiculous crescendo. “You’re a human vacuum, Dokyeom!” Hoshi shouted, flopping dramatically onto the floor. Vernon lounged against the mirror, scrolling his phone, while Seungkwan tried to mediate, yelling, “Can you two shut up for five seconds?” Mingyu and Jun were laughing at something on Mingyu’s phone, and Woozi sat at the table, scribbling notes for Carat Land, their annual fan event just weeks away.

They’d seen Y/N’s comeback news. It had popped up on their group chat a few days ago—Joshua had sent the link with a simple, “She’s back.” The room had gone quiet then, each of them processing it in their own way. “I’m proud of her,” Seungcheol had said, his voice firm but soft. “She’s doing it on her own terms.” Jeonghan had nodded, twisting that old “Hannie” bracelet around his wrist. “Wonder why she hasn’t said anything to us, though.”

“Maybe she thinks we’re pissed,” Dino had mumbled, kicking at the floor. “We’re not, right?”

“Never,” Mingyu had replied, his eyes sad. “She’s still our maknae.”

They’d spotted her laptop earlier—a sleek silver thing left on the bench. “Someone’s gonna come for it,” Wonwoo had said, moving it to the table. They’d assumed it was a staff member’s.

Until the door flew open.

The room fell silent, a collective breath held as thirteen pairs of eyes locked onto her. Y/N stood there, frozen in the doorway, her chest heaving from the run, her hoodie slipping off one shoulder. She looked different—her hair shorter, dyed a soft ash blonde, her face sharper but brighter, like she’d shed a layer of weight. But those eyes—wide, startled, glistening—were the same ones they’d known for a decade.

She stared back, her mouth parting slightly, no sound coming out. ascended into chaos. The boys didn’t move, didn’t speak—just watched her, as stunned as she was.

“Uh…” Y/N’s voice was barely a whisper, breaking the spell. She glanced at the table, spotting her laptop. “My laptop.” She stepped forward, grabbing it with shaky hands, and offered a small, nervous smile. “Sorry, I just—forgot it.” She turned to leave, her heart pounding, her feet itching to flee.

“Y/N,” Seungcheol called, his voice rough but warm, stopping her cold.

She paused, her hand on the doorknob, and slowly turned back. He stood up, his eyes locked on hers, and the others followed—one by one, rising, closing the distance. She didn’t move, couldn’t, as they surrounded her.

“You’re back,” Jeonghan said, his voice soft, almost disbelieving. He reached out, hesitating, then pulled her into a hug. “God, you’re really back.”

That broke the dam. Mingyu was next, wrapping his long arms around her, lifting her off the ground slightly as he laughed, wet and shaky. “We saw the news. You’re killing it, huh?”

“Proud of you,” Joshua added, his hand resting on her shoulder, his smile gentle but teary. “So damn proud.”

Hoshi barreled in, nearly knocking her over with his hug. “You can’t just leave us hanging like that again, okay? We need updates!”

One by one, they piled on—Dino clinging to her arm, Seungkwan sobbing into her hair, Vernon ruffling it with a quiet, “Missed you, kid.” Woozi hung back, but his nod and small smile said everything. DK squeezed her hand, Jun draped an arm over her shoulders, and Wonwoo just stood close, his presence steady and sure.

Seungcheol stepped forward last, cupping her face in his hands. “You’re still ours, you know that? Doesn’t matter if you’re solo. We love you. Always will.”

Y/N’s breath hitched, and the tears came—not the broken, jagged ones of before, but soft, warm ones, spilling over as she looked at them. Her boys. Her family. “I missed you,” she choked out, her voice cracking. “So much. I didn’t know how to—I thought you’d hate me.”

“Hate you?” Mingyu’s voice broke, incredulous. “You’re our maknae. We’d never.”

“We’ve been waiting,” Jeonghan said, brushing a tear from her cheek. “Whenever you were ready.”

She laughed through her sobs, a shaky, real sound, and pulled them closer, the laptop forgotten on the floor. “I’m sorry I left. I just… I had to figure it out. But I’m here now.”

“Good,” Seungkwan sniffled, clinging to her. “Don’t you dare disappear again.”

They stayed like that for a long time, a tangle of arms and tears and laughter, the chaos she’d missed so fiercely. The silence was gone, replaced by their voices, their warmth. She wasn’t alone anymore.

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The day Y/N’s music video dropped, her phone wouldn’t stop buzzing. She’d barely had time to process the release—her album Unraveled hitting streaming platforms, the sleek, cinematic MV racking up views—when a group chat she hadn’t opened in over a year lit up like a Christmas tree. The culprits? Her thirteen former bandmates, now self-proclaimed presidents of her fan club.

“WHERE’S OUR MERCH, Y/N?!” Hoshi’s message screamed in all caps, followed by a string of tiger emojis. “I need that hoodie with your name on it YESTERDAY.”

“Album too,” Mingyu chimed in. “Signed. Limited edition. I’m framing it.”

“Photocards!” Dino added. “I call dibs on the sparkly one.”

Y/N laughed, typing back, “You guys are ridiculous. I’ll bring stuff over later.”

“Later?!” Seungkwan wailed, voice-note dramatic as ever. “We’re dying out here! Do you know how long we’ve waited for this?!”

She showed up at the HYBE practice room that afternoon, arms loaded with a box of merch—hoodies, albums, photocards, even a few keychains she’d thrown in for fun. The door swung open, and she was met with a chorus of shrieks that could’ve shattered glass.

“IT’S HER!” Hoshi yelled, diving for the box like a kid on Christmas morning. “Gimme, gimme, gimme!”

“Chill, dude,” Mingyu said, elbowing him aside to grab a hoodie. He held it up, grinning. “Look at this—‘Y/N: Unraveled.’ I’m wearing this everywhere.”

Seungcheol snatched an album, flipping it open. “Sign it. Right here. ‘To my favorite leader, love, Y/N.’ Go.”

She rolled her eyes but grabbed a marker, scribbling personalized notes as they crowded around her. Jeonghan slid up, smirking. “Make mine pretty. Something like, ‘To the prettiest handsome man alive.’”

“Dream on,” she shot back, writing, “To Hannie oppa, don’t lose the bracelet.”

Joshua hovered politely, holding a photocard. “Can you sign this one? It’s the one where you’re winking. I’m keeping it forever.”

“Forever?” Vernon teased, snagging his own card. “I’m putting mine on my phone case. Look—bam!” He slapped it onto the back of his phone, grinning. “Now I’ve got Y/N watching my back.”

Minghao, who’d been quietly sorting through the pile, held up a hoodie with her logo and name. “This is cool,” he said, his voice soft but his eyes bright. “Sign it for me? ‘To Hao, the chillest brother.’”

“Finally, some class,” Y/N said, winking at him as she signed it. “Why can’t you all be this calm?”

“Because we’re your hype squad!” DK bellowed, pulling on a hoodie that was a size too small. “Look at me—I’m a walking billboard!”

Woozi, ever the practical one, inspected his album. “This production’s insane. Did you write all the tracks?”

“Most of them,” she said, and he nodded, impressed. “Sign mine ‘To the music genius.’ I’m stealing your tricks.”

Jun grabbed a photocard and gasped. “This one’s holographic! Y/N, you’re too cool for us now.”

“Never,” she laughed, signing it as he danced around her.

Seungkwan clutched his chest, holding up a signed album. “I’m crying. This is my most prized possession. Sign it again!”

“You’re so extra,” Wonwoo said, but he was grinning, slipping his own photocard into his wallet. “This one’s mine. No one touch it.”

Dino pounced on her next, waving a hoodie. “Sign the sleeve! I’m wearing it to carat land so everyone knows I stan you!”

She obliged, laughing as they turned the room into a fanboy frenzy—Hoshi posing with his keychain like it was a Grammy, Mingyu snapping selfies with his hoodie, Minghao twirling her keychain with a rare, goofy grin.

--------------------------------------------------------------

That night, her phone exploded again as the boys flooded their Instagram stories. Seungcheol posted a mirror selfie with her album, captioned, “Proud leader moment. Stream Unraveled now—link in bio.” Jeonghan shared a pic of his signed bracelet note, “She’s back, and I’m crying.” Joshua’s was simple: a shot of his photocard with a heart emoji.

Mingyu went overboard—three stories in a row: him in the hoodie, him with the album, him pointing at her photocard on his phone case, “My bias forever. MV link below!” Hoshi filmed himself dancing to her title track, screaming, “Y/N, YOU’RE A LEGEND!”

DK posted a blurry selfie with her in the background, “Caught her slippin’. Support our maknae!” Seungkwan’s was a tearful video: “I’ve waited YEARS for this. Stream it or I’ll haunt you.” Vernon’s was chill—a pic of his phone case with, “She’s fire. Check it.”

Woozi shared a studio shot of him listening to her album, “Respect. Link up.” Jun posted his holographic card, “Too shiny, like her.” Wonwoo’s was a quiet flex—his wallet photocard with, “Always with me.”

Minghao, ever the aesthetic king, uploaded a minimalist shot of the keychain against a sunset, “Her vibe. Stream Unraveled.” Dino rounded it out with a hoodie selfie, “Pi Cheolin approves. Go watch the MV!”

Y/N watched it all unfold, laughing until her sides hurt, warmth spreading through her chest.

--------------------------------------------------------------

Her first Music Bank appearance was a blur of nerves and adrenaline. She stood backstage, adjusting her mic pack, when she heard it—a roar from the crowd that sounded suspiciously familiar. Peeking out, she nearly dropped her water bottle.

All thirteen Seventeen members were in the audience, squished into the front row, waving lightsticks they’d clearly stolen from carat land prep. They were loud—louder than the actual fans.

“Y/N! Y/N! Y/N!” Hoshi chanted, jumping like a maniac. Mingyu held up a handmade sign: “OUR MAKNAE SLAYS.”

“Go off, queen!” DK hollered, cupping his hands around his mouth.

Seungcheol, trying to keep some dignity, just clapped like a proud dad—until Seungkwan elbowed him, and he yelled, “That’s our girl!”

Jeonghan waved his lightstick with a smirk, shouting, “You’re prettier than me now!”

“Sing it, Y/N!” Joshua called, grinning ear to ear.

Vernon gave a cool nod but ruined it by screaming, “Woo!” mid-verse. Woozi whistled, sharp and piercing, while Jun and Wonwoo chanted her name in unison.

Minghao stood out, waving a glowstick with quiet intensity, then yelling, “You’re the best, Y/N!”—a rare burst of volume that made her laugh mid-note.

Dino was the loudest, bouncing on his toes. “That’s my twin maknae! Kill it!”

She nearly fumbled her choreo from giggling, but she powered through, her heart swelling. After her stage, they swarmed her backstage, sweaty and beaming.

“You were insane!” Mingyu said, pulling her into a bear hug.

“Sign my forehead next time,” Hoshi begged, pointing at his face.

“Voice was perfect,” Woozi said, nodding. “Remix collab when?”

Minghao smiled, soft but genuine. “You glowed out there. Proud of you.”

Seungcheol ruffled her hair. “Told you—you’re still ours.”

She grinned, surrounded by her thirteen fanboys, their chaos the sweetest sound she’d ever heard.

--------------------------------------------------------------

Y/N’s solo album Unraveled was a steamroller. It clung to the top of the charts like a stubborn barnacle, sold out its first run in weeks, and forced her label to scramble for new batches. Fans—especially carats—were feral, hyping her every move and dunking on her old haters with savage glee. “Where’s the ‘talentless’ crowd now, huh?” one tweeted, alongside a clip of her MV hitting million views. “Y/N’s out here proving you wrong, stay mad!” another crowed. She’d scroll through it all late at night, grinning at the chaos she’d unleashed.

The MAMA Awards rolled around, Seoul’s biggest night of glitter and glory, and Y/N was a bundle of nerves. She’d been assigned a solo seat in the third row—standard for a soloist—but Seventeen had other plans. The second she stepped into the venue, all thirteen of them descended like a pack of overexcited golden retrievers.

“No way you’re sitting alone,” Seungcheol declared, grabbing her arm as they swarmed her.

“You look like a lost puppy over there!” Hoshi added, throwing an arm around her shoulders.

“It’s sad vibes,” Mingyu said, pouting dramatically. “We can’t let our maknae suffer!”

The organizers tried to intervene—“She’s scheduled for—”—but Seungkwan cut them off, clutching his chest. “Do you want her to cry? On camera? Is that what you want?!”

Joshua flashed his angelic smile, disarming them. “She’s with us. It’s fine.”

“Family seating!” DK bellowed, dragging her toward their row.

Minghao, ever the voice of reason, chimed in with a sly grin. “She’s basically still Seventeen. You can’t argue with that.”

The staff threw up their hands, defeated, as thirteen dorky boys hauled her to their table near the front. Vernon plopped her between him and Wonwoo, while Jun and Dino fought over who got to hold her water bottle. “It’s mine to guard!” Dino insisted, hugging it like a teddy bear.

“Give it here,” Jun countered, yanking it back. “I’m the responsible one!”

Woozi just sighed, sipping his water. “You’re all embarrassing her on live TV.”

“No, we’re hyping her!” Jeonghan shot back, adjusting his hair in the nearest camera lens. “She’s a star tonight.”

--------------------------------------------------------------

The night rolled on, awards piling up, until the big one—Album of the Year. Y/N fidgeted in her seat, sandwiched between Vernon’s chill vibes and Seungcheol’s tense dad-energy. When the presenter opened the envelope, time slowed.

“And the MAMA Award for Album of the Year goes to… Y/N, Unraveled!”

The crowd erupted—cheers, claps, gasps—but nothing was louder than the thirteen idiots beside her. She froze, jaw dropping, as Seventeen leapt to their feet, turning the elegant event into a frat house rager.

“THAT’S OUR GIRL!” Mingyu roared, fist-pumping so hard he nearly knocked over Jeonghan.

“BODYGUARDS, ASSEMBLE!” Hoshi shouted, and they formed a circle around her, each one striking a dramatic pose—hands to their ears like Secret Service agents, faces deadly serious.

Seungcheol barked, “Protect the queen!” and shoved Dino forward to clear a path.

She burst out laughing, stumbling as they “escorted” her to the stage. DK flexed nonexistent muscles, yelling, “No one’s getting through us!” while Seungkwan wailed, “I’M TOO PROUD TO FUNCTION!”

Vernon gave a lazy salute, muttering, “VIP coming through,” as Minghao smirked and whispered, “We’re so extra right now.”

The cameras caught it all—thirteen dorks in tuxes acting like her personal hype squad, while carats in the audience screamed their lungs out. She climbed the steps, still giggling, and took the mic, the trophy gleaming in her hands.

--------------------------------------------------------------

Y/N took a deep breath, the laughter fading into something heavier. The spotlight burned, but she felt the boys’ eyes on her, steadying her.

“Wow, uh… I didn’t expect this,” she started, voice shaky. “This album—it’s everything I’ve been through, everything I’ve fought for. I didn’t think I’d make it here, you know? There were days I couldn’t get out of bed, days I thought I’d lost myself forever.”

The crowd quieted, hanging on her words. Back at the table, Seungcheol gripped his chair, eyes glistening. “She’s killing me,” he muttered.

“I’m here because of the people who never gave up on me,” she continued, her voice rising. “My fans—carats—you waited for me, believed in me when I couldn’t. And… Seventeen.” She glanced at them, and the boys erupted again.

“WOOHOO!” Hoshi hollered, waving his arms like a windmill.

“THAT’S US!” DK yelled, jumping so high he nearly fell over Mingyu.

Mingyu cupped his hands, booming, “YOU’RE THE BEST, Y/N!”

She grinned, tears pricking her eyes. “These thirteen idiots dragged me through hell and back. They’re my brothers, my chaos, my home. Seungcheol, who wouldn’t let me quit. Jeonghan, who made me laugh when I wanted to cry. Joshua, with his quiet strength. Jun, who’d prank me just to see me smile. Hoshi, the loudest cheerleader alive. Wonwoo, my silent rock. Woozi, who taught me music is power. DK, my sunshine. Mingyu, who fed me when I forgot to eat. Seungkwan, my drama twin. Vernon, who kept me grounded. Minghao, who showed me calm in the storm. And Dino, my twin.”

Each name hit like a punch, and the boys lost it:

Seungcheol stood, clapping like a proud dad, shouting, “That’s my maknae!”

Jeonghan fanned his face, yelling, “I’m blushing!”

Joshua grinned, calling, “Love you too!”

Jun pumped his fist, “Prank master approved!”

Hoshi spun in a circle, screaming, “I’M YOUR CHEERLEADER!”

Wonwoo gave a rare shout, “Always here, Y/N!”

Woozi smirked, “Music power, baby!”

DK beamed, “Sunshine reporting for duty!”

Mingyu flexed, “Food king forever!”

Seungkwan sobbed, “DRAMA TWINS UNITE!”

Vernon waved, “Grounded and proud!”

Minghao laughed, loud and bright, “Calm storm, that’s me!”

Dino bounced, “Pi Cheolin loves you!”

“I wouldn’t be here without them,” she finished, voice cracking. “Thank you—for loving me, for waiting. This is for us.”

The crowd roared, but Seventeen drowned them out, cheering like they’d won the award themselves. She stepped off stage, and they swarmed her again, a laughing, teary mess of hugs and shouts.

“You made me cry on TV!” Seungkwan accused, wiping his face.

“Speech of the century!” Hoshi declared, spinning her around.

Minghao squeezed her shoulder, grinning. “You named me. I’m honored.”

“Thirteen bodyguards at your service,” Seungcheol said, pulling her into a bear hug. “Forever.”

She laughed through her tears, surrounded by her dorky, loud, perfect family. The trophy was heavy, but their love was heavier—and she wouldn’t trade it for the world.

[scoupsakakitty]

hiii i love all of your works! 😍 can I request a svtx14thmember, where the reader gets mobbed in the airport and how the members reacted and protected her during the situation. this would mean so muchhh, thank you! And Happy Carats Day! <33

Under Their Wings / Seventeen x 14thMember / angst

Y/N had never minded the crowds at the airport. After years of being in Seventeen, she had gotten used to flashing cameras, fans screaming their names, and the occasional chaos. But today felt different.

From the moment they landed back in Korea, the energy in the air was overwhelming. There were more people than usual, their voices blending into an indistinguishable roar. Security was there, but even they seemed to be struggling with the sheer number of fans and reporters pushing their way forward.

Seventeen was used to it. They had their usual formations, naturally gravitating toward each other, their practiced steps keeping them in sync. Y/N, as the 14th and youngest member, was always tucked safely between them. But today, the moment they stepped out of the terminal, something went wrong.

The crowd surged.

Y/N barely had time to react before hands reached for her, the pressure of bodies pushing her from every side. She stumbled, feeling herself being pulled away from the group. The warmth of her members was gone in an instant, swallowed by the chaos.

"Y/N!" Joshua’s voice cut through the noise, sharp with panic.

She tried to move, to reach for him, but the weight of the crowd pressed in, making it impossible. A hand grabbed at her arm, another at her backpack, yanking her in different directions. Her heart pounded. This was different from usual. This was too much.

And then—

A strong grip wrapped around her wrist.

"I got you." It was S.Coups.

Before she could even register his presence, he pulled her toward him, shielding her with his body as he maneuvered through the chaos. His other arm was up, blocking cameras from flashing directly in her face.

"Move! Give her space!" His voice was commanding, the leader in him coming out in full force.

But the crowd wasn’t relenting. If anything, they were getting more aggressive.

And then the others were there.

Hoshi and Jun pushed through first, their arms forming a protective barrier around her. Jun was murmuring something in Mandarin, his voice calm but firm, while Hoshi’s expression was fierce, his usual playfulness replaced with worry.

"She’s shaking," Jeonghan said, slipping through the gap and immediately placing a hand on her back. His usual soft demeanor was gone, replaced with cold anger. "We need to get her out of here. Now."

"Hyung, she almost fell," Dino’s voice came, tight with frustration. He had been right behind her, trying to reach her when the crowd surged. His fists clenched as he glared at the people still pushing forward.

Mingyu and Wonwoo, the tallest of them all, moved next. Mingyu placed himself directly in front of her, an immovable shield, while Wonwoo was at her side, his usually indifferent expression dark with irritation.

"Back off!" Mingyu barked, his deep voice cutting through the noise. He wasn’t often angry, but when he was, it was terrifying. The crowd hesitated for just a moment.

DK and Seungkwan flanked her other side, their arms lightly gripping her shoulders. DK, ever the sunshine, looked anything but happy, his jaw tight as he kept his body angled toward her. Seungkwan, usually one to handle the press with a smile, was scowling.

"Y/N, are you okay?" Woozi’s voice was softer, but the tension in it was unmistakable. He wasn’t physically shielding her, but his eyes were scanning every movement around them, making sure nothing else happened.

"I—" Y/N tried to speak, but the overwhelming feeling of everything—the noise, the pushing, the hands grabbing at her—was too much. She felt her throat tighten.

Vernon, who had been silent up until now, suddenly pressed a hand against the back of her head, tucking her against his shoulder.

"Breathe," he murmured. "Just breathe. We got you."

And she did. Inhale. Exhale. The warmth of her members surrounding her made the chaos feel more distant.

The security team finally got control, pushing the crowd back. It was only then that they managed to start moving forward.

Minghao was beside her now, his arm looped through hers, his presence grounding.

"This was worse than usual," he muttered, his voice edged with frustration. "What the hell happened?"

"Someone must’ve leaked our flight details," Jeonghan answered, his voice laced with annoyance. "That crowd wasn’t just normal fans. Some of them were just—" He shook his head.

"Crazy," Seungkwan finished for him.

They finally made it to their van, and as soon as the doors shut behind them, the weight of everything hit Y/N at once. She hadn’t realized how tightly she had been gripping onto S.Coups’ sleeve until he gently pried her fingers off.

"Hey," he said softly. "You’re safe now."

She exhaled shakily. "That was—" She couldn’t even finish the sentence.

Joshua handed her a bottle of water while Woozi reached over, squeezing her hand once before letting go.

"You don’t have to talk about it now," Woozi said simply.

"But you do have to eat something when we get back," DK added. "No arguments."

"And rest," Minghao said firmly. "No scrolling online, either. I don’t want you seeing whatever videos are already going up."

Y/N nodded, but then winced slightly as she moved her wrist. She glanced down, noticing the red marks and scratches forming along her skin. A sasaeng had grabbed her hard at the beginning, their fingers digging into her wrist with enough force to leave bruises. The skin was already irritated, and she knew it would turn into a darker bruise soon.

"Y/N," S.Coups frowned, immediately noticing. "Who did that?"

"One of the guys in the crowd," she murmured. "He grabbed me pretty hard."

Jeonghan’s face darkened, his eyes flashing with anger. "If I ever see them—"

"Let’s get home first," Woozi interrupted, his voice tense. "We’ll put some ice on it."

Y/N nodded, still feeling a little overwhelmed. But as she looked around at the faces of the thirteen boys she called her family, the panic slowly faded.

They had her.

They always had her.

[prettylilyanime]

Our Blessing ♡ Prologue

♡ Pairing: Toji Zenin x reader

♡ Synopsis: in which your ex boyfriend left you with your biggest blessing in life, or- a bundle of a blessing. And he doesn’t even know it.

♡ tags/warnings: 18+, (explicit content in later chapters) angst, and drama, exes to lovers, hidden baby trope, Toji is an asshole (but we love him), Reader just wants to raise Megumi in peace, CEO Toji, possessive Toji, emotionally constipated Toji, Tension, misunderstandings, Flashbacks to past relationship, Heavy themes of abandonment, trust issues, and redemption, baby Megumi is a cutie, Megumi is a mama’s boy, reader works at a flower shop, Hidden Baby Trope

♡ Masterlist ♡ Next

⋆˚♡˖°⋆˚♡˖°⋆˚♡˖°⋆˚♡˖°⋆˚♡˖°⋆˚♡˖°⋆˚♡˖°⋆˚♡˖°⋆˚♡˖°⋆˚♡˖

"Shit!"

The curse slips out before you can stop it as you stumble against the narrow, overstuffed hallway leading to the backroom of your little shop.

The bulky cardboard box in your arms wobbles precariously, the scent of freshly delivered daffodils wafting up as you struggle to keep your balance. For a moment, you fear disaster—flowers crushed, stems snapped, your pride bruised—but you manage to steady yourself just in time.

"Mama, that’s a bad word."

The reprimand is calm, almost casual, but the unimpressed side-eye that follows is devastating.

Seated by the shop’s wide front window, Megumi barely spares you a glance, his small frame bathed in the golden morning light. The sun catches in his dark lashes, making his ever-serious little face all the more heartbreakingly adorable.

You groan, already rubbing a hand down your face. "Damn—Yes, Megumi, I’m sorry." You cut yourself off before another curse can slip out, exhaling as you set the box down with a dull thud. Any more near-disasters like that, and you might actually break a hip.

Some mornings, you wake up feeling twice your age, your body aching from years of hauling flower crates, bending over counters, and chasing after an endlessly curious toddler. The weariness settles into your bones, a quiet reminder of just how much you juggle between running a business and raising a child on your own.

But then you glance at Megumi.

He sits by the shop window, his small fingers tracing absentminded patterns against the glass, bathed in the golden morning light. The soft glow highlights the curve of his cheeks, the thoughtful furrow of his brows as he watches the world outside. Your exhaustion melts just a little. You’d do it all over again—every sleepless night, every aching muscle—without hesitation.

Outside, the city hums with life. A gentle breeze rustles through the trees lining the sidewalk, carrying the scent of fresh flowers and warm pavement.

People stroll past, their neutral expressions softening into fond smiles when they catch sight of Megumi. A few wave through the window, but true to his nature, he merely blinks at them—stoic as ever—before returning to his quiet observations.

"Say, Megumi, what do you want for lunch today, hm?"

He pauses, tilting his head slightly in thought. His emerald-green eyes flick up to meet yours, considering, before he declares with certainty: "Dino nuggets."

You blink. "Dino nuggets? Again? But we just had them yesterday."

"Yeah," he says simply, as if that should be enough to end the discussion.

"Megumi, we can’t eat chicken nuggets every day. That’s not a balanced diet."

He frowns, tiny arms crossing. "I balanced it with fries."

You press your lips together, fighting back a snort. "That’s not how it works, honey. If you eat too many, a stomach bug might get you before bedtime."

He huffs, brows knitting together in frustration. "But dino nuggets make me feel good. And stomach bugs aren’t real."

That does it—you actually snort this time, biting down a laugh. Megumi’s sharp little side-eye nearly makes you lose it again.

"Okay, okay. How about this? We get pizza next door instead." You know it’s not the healthiest swap, but hey, at least it’s better than microwaved dino nuggets… right?

Megumi doesn’t look convinced at first, his small fingers still resting on the window as if debating whether or not this betrayal is worth arguing over. Then, his gaze flickers to you, studying your expression.

"Hmm." He makes a show of thinking before relenting with a dramatic sigh. "Okay… but I want ice cream too."

You shake your head with a chuckle. 

With Megumi’s small hand tucked in yours, you push open the door to your store, the little bell above jingling softly as you step outside.

The late morning air greets you with a mix of warm sunshine and the faint scent of blooming flowers from your storefront display. The city hums around you—distant chatter, the occasional honk of a car horn, the rhythmic click of hurried footsteps on pavement.

Megumi stays close to your side as you walk the short distance next door, his tiny fingers gripping yours like second nature.

The pizzeria is a familiar comfort—Tano’s Pizza, a cozy little hole-in-the-wall with a chalkboard menu propped just outside.

The scent of fresh dough, bubbling cheese, and roasted garlic drifts through the slightly propped-open door, instantly making Megumi's stomach grumble.

You push inside, stepping onto worn wooden floors that creak softly underfoot. The walls are lined with framed newspaper clippings and faded photographs—snapshots of the restaurant through the decades.

At the front, a glass display case showcases bubbling slices fresh from the oven, the cheese still glistening under the heat lamps. Behind the counter stands a young employee, dressed in a slightly oversized apron and adjusting his cap as he notices the two of you walk in.

"Ah, it’s Megumi-kun!" the worker says, his voice light with familiarity. "Back again, huh? You’ve got good taste."

Megumi, naturally, doesn’t respond. He merely stares up at the man, then tilts his head ever so slightly.

The employee chuckles, undeterred. "Still not much of a talker, huh? No worries—let’s see if today’s pizza can win a word out of you."

You smile, ruffling Megumi’s hair. "He’s getting there. Slowly. Anyway, we’ll take two slices—one cheese, one pepperoni."

"And ice cream," Megumi adds, very seriously.

You sigh, shaking your head. "We’ll talk about that later."

The employee grins, already sliding two hot slices onto plates. You guide Megumi toward a corner booth by the window, the worn red leather seats creaking as you both settle in.

He swings his little legs beneath the table, fingers drumming idly against the surface as he watches the worker prepare the slices.

"Mama," he says after a moment, his voice quieter now, thoughtful.

"Hm?" You glance at him, mid-reach for a napkin.

"Pizza is better than dino nuggets."

You pause, blinking. Then, you huff a quiet laugh. "Oh? So all that fuss before was for nothing?"

Some days are exhausting. Some days, you wonder how you manage it all—balancing work, life, and motherhood like you’re walking a tightrope with no safety net.

But moments like this?

They make it all worth it.

The daytime sun streams through the wide windows, casting a soft glow over the checkered tile floor.

You take a sip of your drink, letting yourself relax, just for a moment.

Then the doorbell jingles.

It’s an unremarkable sound, the same chime that’s rung a dozen times since you sat down, but this time, when you naturally glance up, the air in your lungs turns to stone.

Two tall figures stroll in like they own the place. Crisp suits, easy smiles, and voices that haven’t changed a bit.

“God, Suguru, I’m starving,” the white-haired one groans, a hand resting lazily on his stomach as they walk toward the counter.

Satoru and Suguru.

Two ghosts from your past, standing just a few feet away, like time hadn’t torn a canyon between you.

It’s been five years. Five years since they dropped you as easily as an old habit. Five years since they picked a side that was never yours to begin with.

They were always Toji’s friends first, you knew that, but still—being discarded so effortlessly after your breakup stung in a way you’d never admit out loud.

Megumi notices the shift immediately.

“Mama? What’s wrong?” His voice is quiet, but his brows pinch, his little body instinctively leaning against yours. Then, as if sensing something deeper, he scoots closer, resting his head against your side. His small hand clutches your shirt.

You want to curse the gods for making Megumi such an incredibly perceptive child, but at the same time, you want to thank them for giving you the sweetest boy imaginable.

No, really—you could start crying at the way his tiny fingers grip your shirt, like he already knows you need the comfort more than he does.

You clear your throat, ducking your head as if looking away will make them disappear. “Nothing, honey,” you murmur, smoothing a hand over his hair. “Just thought I recognized someone.”

A white lie. A harmless one. But your pulse won’t settle, and your fingers curl against the tabletop.

Because you don’t just recognize them. You know them.

You remember the unanswered calls, the ignored texts—the way they never once gave you a way to reach Toji when you needed him most. They didn’t know you were pregnant, sure. But even now, after all these years, the resentment bubbles up like something toxic in your chest.

And worst of all? If they see Megumi, they’ll know.

It wouldn’t take a genius to put the pieces together.

The kid is practically a carbon copy of his father—God, if you hadn’t been in the delivery room, you might’ve thought Toji had just spawned him into existence himself.

Your anxiety spikes as your mind races ahead, spiraling through every worst-case scenario.

Those striking emerald eyes you love so much? They’re just a smaller, rounder version of the ones you used to get lost in years ago.

And their smiles—though rare—mirror each other’s perfectly, down to the sharp curve of their lips.Maybe, just maybe, Megumi inherited your nose.

It’s a weak thought, flimsy and desperate. Because deep down, you know that in a few years, as he grows, his resemblance to Toji will only become more undeniable.

You swallow hard and exhale through your nose, forcing yourself to stay calm.

You just have to get through this meal. Get Megumi home. And pray that today isn’t the day the past comes knocking.

⋆˚♡˖°⋆˚♡˖°⋆˚♡˖°⋆˚♡˖°⋆˚♡˖°⋆˚♡˖°⋆˚♡˖°⋆˚♡˖°⋆˚♡˖°⋆˚♡˖

To be continued, after the completion of Blooming Hearts !

[cheolieji]

Im glad to see you answer my question<3

So could you write maknae 14th member but not like to young cuz it is suggestive so maybe a few months younger than dino.

But basically could you do where all of her members jokingly slap her ass and she finds it annoying but they don’t do it to just her. However its mostly her, and they do it alot to her. One day she sees that her ass is bruised and i want to know how the members would react if she told them or if she was so angry and didn’t tell them and they saw signs like her wincing when sitting down. Could you please not do individual reactions.

Thanks for considering my request and thank you if you do it🤍

jokes (butt slaps)

this was wayy longer than I inticipated butt who cares

14th member fic (feat.svt)

angst (not rlly), fluff, slight suggestive (butt slapping)

svt and reader teases eachother

guide for requesting on my page [17] check out the (pink highlighted) texts for my yes and no's

lmk if I missed anything!

As the 14th member of Seventeen, just a few months younger than Dino, you were used to the chaos. The teasing, the loudness, the shared inside jokes. You could dish it just as well as you could take it. But there was one running joke that you really couldn’t stand anymore.

The butt slaps.

It started out as a playful thing, something everyone did from time to time. A little smack after a good rehearsal, a joking hit in the dorms, during vlives, whatever. They did it to each other too, but for some reason, you were the go-to target. Maybe because you always reacted. Maybe because you were the youngest. Either way, it got old fast.

Lately, it felt like every time you turned around, someone’s palm was flying at you. Even when you clearly weren’t in the mood, someone would still do it, laughing like it was nothing.

But this time? This time, it wasn’t funny.

You’d noticed the bruise the night before. Faint at first, but definitely there. Now, it was worse. Dark purple and sore as hell. Sitting down hurt. Stretching hurt. Even lying on your side was uncomfortable. You didn’t say anything, though. Not yet. You didn’t want to sound overly sensitive, but damn, it was pissing you off.

So you ignored everyone during breakfast. You barely spoke during practice. You winced when you sat, flinched when one of the members moved behind you, and gave a flat look when one of them raised a hand like they might smack you again. That was the moment it started to click.

They weren’t dumb. You weren’t smiling. You weren’t playing along.

And you were clearly mad.

Practice ended early. No one really said why, but the vibe was off. Quiet. Uneasy. You were the first to grab your bag and head out.

Later that night, you were curled up on the couch with your legs tucked under you, scrolling through your phone and trying to decompress. The dorm felt weirdly quiet. Then, one by one, the boys started filtering in. Not in a dramatic confrontation kind of way, but in that awkward we-know-we-messed-up way.

They didn’t really say much at first. Just sat down around you, avoiding your eyes. Someone finally mumbled, “We didn’t realize you were actually hurt.”

Another added, “We didn’t mean to take it too far.”

You stayed quiet for a second, then sighed. “It’s been too far for a while.”

That one hit. You saw it in their faces. The guilt. The regret. No one tried to defend themselves, and you appreciated that.

Then one of them gently placed a little heat pack next to you. Another handed you your favorite drink from the fridge. Someone even tossed a fuzzy blanket over your shoulders without saying a word.

You were still a little mad, but it was hard to stay mad when they were being this soft about it.

Eventually, you leaned back into the couch and muttered, “You’re all idiots.”

Someone snorted. “But we’re your idiots.”

And you couldn’t help it. You smiled.

It wasn’t just the end of the butt-slap joke. It was the start of them being more careful, more thoughtful. The teasing didn’t stop, but it changed. They learned where the line was. And they made sure, from that day on, that their jokes never came at your expense.

And honestly? That meant more than any apology ever could.

the next morning

You weren’t expecting much when you woke up. Maybe a few awkward glances, maybe someone pretending like nothing happened. But when you walked into the kitchen, still groggy and dragging your feet, you froze.

The dining table was actually set. Real plates, not takeout containers. Pancakes, eggs, fruit, and your favorite coffee already poured into your usual mug. Someone had even peeled an orange for you.

You stared. "Did someone die?"

A few of them chuckled under their breath

"Nahh" one of them said, rubbing the back of his neck. "We just thought... breakfast. Together. As a team."

"Mingyu did most of it," wonwoo confessed, not even pretending to take credit.

"Hey!! I peeled the oranges," jeonghan added, looking proud of himself.

There was a pause. dokyeom looked over to you, eyes a little softer than usual.

"We wanted to make it up to you. For pushing things too far."

You stood there for a second. Still tired. Still kind of annoyed. But your chest loosened a little. The food smelled good. The effort was real. They looked genuinely sorry.

"You were annoying," you said, sitting down.

A quiet wave of agreement passed through the room.

"But this is nice."

You picked up your fork and started eating without saying anything else. That alone made a few of them relax. hao caught your eye, just for a second, and when you gave the tiniest smile, he smiled back.

It wasn’t everything, but it was enough for now.

Getting back at them

You didn’t plan it, really. It just sort of happened.

A few days had passed since the whole bruise situation. Things had settled back into their usual rhythm. No one dared smack you again, which was great. But the energy had shifted too. The guys were noticeably gentler, more careful with their jokes. It was sweet, honestly. But that didn’t mean you were going to let them off completely.

So you started pushing back. Quietly. Pettily. Playfully.

During vocal practice, one of them hit a wrong note and winced. You leaned in with a straight face and said, “That note sounded bruised. Need ice?”

Another time, someone reached over your head to grab something and accidentally bumped into you. You clutched your side and gasped like you’d been tackled, then gave him a look so dramatic he practically begged you not to rat him out.

They got nervous real quick.

You didn’t do it all the time. Just often enough to remind them. A dramatic flinch here, an exaggerated sigh when someone got too close, an innocent “Oh, I thought we weren’t touching me anymore?” that made them instantly back up with their hands raised.

It wasn’t about payback. Not really. It was about taking your space back, with a smile.

And the best part? They took it all. No complaints. No teasing. If anything, they played along. Sometimes a member would fake cry when you “called them out.” Others would offer their snacks like peace offerings before even saying hi.

One night at the dorm, you caught them watching you more carefully than usual. You were curled up on the couch, blanket over your legs, scrolling your phone while someone rubbed circles on your back.

“You really forgave us, huh?” joshua asked, a little tentative.

You looked up and nodded.

“Yeah. But I’ll still mess with you a little longer.”

He smiled. “Fair.”

They didn’t mind. You were still their little sister. Just one they finally listened to better.

--

Practice was dragging. Everyone was tired, and your body was still recovering. During a quick break, you bent over to tie your shoe and winced without meaning to.

One of the choreographers looked over and joked, "Still sore? Or are you just milking it?"

He didn’t mean anything by it. It was a throwaway comment. But before you could even open your mouth, Hoshi stepped in.

"She’s fine," he said, not looking away. "We’re all worn out."

There wasn’t any heat in his voice. Just something quiet and clear. The choreographer nodded and let it go without pushing further.

When you sat back down, hoshi dropped onto the bench beside you. He nudged your leg with his knee, just enough to get your attention.

"You good?"

You gave a small nod. "Still a little sore, but yeah. I’m fine."

He was quiet for a moment. Then he leaned against your shoulder, barely for a second, and pulled away again like it hadn’t happened.

"You don’t have to brush stuff off anymore. Not with us."

That part stayed with you. More than any apology. More than breakfast. Just someone choosing to see you clearly and reminding you that your discomfort mattered.

[pha55ed]

Formula 2/3/Other Guys !

rules || req open || anons open

if you dont see someones name, that means i dont know them well enough to write for them - but maybe theyll be added one day :) - i know kimi and ollie are technically f1 now but i already put them here and i'm lazy to move them

f1 masterlist || f2 masterlist || more here!

Ollie Bearman | 03 <3

Song Abt Your Break-Up ♡∘°∘ singer!reader makes a song exposed why they broke up which ends up with drivers getting hate (angst)

Painfully Oblivious ♡∘°∘ despite being so clear about their crush on you, you can't seem to understand them at all (fluff)

Is it Casual Now? ♡∘°∘ awkward situation-ships where you want more but it turns out you were being led on (angst) ♡∘°∘ bad ending !

Back With Your Ex ♡∘°∘ the boys' helped you get over your toxic ex, only for you to soft launch that you're back together... which is awful because they've been waiting ages for you to be single (smau)

Kimi's Bday Celly! ♡∘°∘ kodoku :: fans attack you (comfort) ♡∘°∘ attracted to u :: different driver crushes on you (fluff) ♡∘°∘ you and i :: teammate!reader is shipped with him (fluff) ♡∘°∘ fine line :: getting to know the read him (fluff)

Just Acting ♡∘°∘ actor!reader is in a popular series and is shipped with a different actor, making the drivers kind of jealous and worried (fluff)

Diet Pepsi ♡∘°∘ certain kinks that the drivers have (smut)

Kimi Antonelli | 04

Song Abt Your Break-Up ♡∘°∘ singer!reader makes a song exposed why they broke up which ends up with drivers getting hate (angst)

Painfully Oblivious ♡∘°∘ despite being so clear about their crush on you, you can't seem to understand them at all (fluff)

Is it Casual Now? ♡∘°∘ awkward situation-ships where you want more but it turns out you were being led on (angst) ♡∘°∘ bad ending !

Back With Your Ex ♡∘°∘ the boys' helped you get over your toxic ex, only for you to soft launch that you're back together... which is awful because they've been waiting ages for you to be single (smau)

Kimi's Bday Celly! ♡∘°∘ literally in everything lol, ur well fed

Paul Aron | 17 <3

Song Abt Your Break-Up ♡∘°∘ singer!reader makes a song exposed why they broke up which ends up with drivers getting hate (angst)

Painfully Oblivious ♡∘°∘ despite being so clear about their crush on you, you can't seem to understand them at all (fluff)

Is it Casual Now? ♡∘°∘ awkward situation-ships where you want more but it turns out you were being led on (angst) ♡∘°∘ bad ending !

I'm Waiting For the Right Time ♡∘°∘ when you've finally given up on chasing paul so you try to move on, but he won't allow it for some reason? bestfriends to lovers (smau / fluff / solo fic!)

Back With Your Ex ♡∘°∘ the boys' helped you get over your toxic ex, only for you to soft launch that you're back together... which is awful because they've been waiting ages for you to be single (smau)

Kimi's Bday Celly! ♡∘°∘ love :: first kiss (fluff) ♡∘°∘ pasilyo :: beach days with him (fluff) ♡∘°∘ you and i :: teammate!reader is shipped with him (fluff) ♡∘°∘ anchor :: he comforts you after crying (fluff)

Diet Pepsi ♡∘°∘ certain kinks that the drivers have (smut)

Pepe Marti | 21

Kimi's Bday Celly! ♡∘°∘ kodoku :: fans attack you (comfort) ♡∘°∘ attracted to u :: different driver crushes on you (fluff) ♡∘°∘ love :: first kiss (fluff) ♡∘°∘ pasilyo :: beach days with him (fluff) ♡∘°∘ you and i :: teammate!reader is shipped with him (fluff) ♡∘°∘ anchor :: he comforts you after crying (fluff) ♡∘°∘ fine line :: getting to know the read him (fluff)

Diet Pepsi ♡∘°∘ certain kinks that the drivers have (smut)

Zak O'Sullivan | 02

Kimi's Bday Celly! ♡∘°∘ pasilyo :: beach days with him (fluff)

Jak Crawford | 07

Kimi's Bday Celly! ♡∘°∘ pasilyo :: beach days with him (fluff)

Zane Maloney | 05

Diet Pepsi ♡∘°∘ certain kinks that the drivers have (smut)

Dino Beganovic | 01

Painfully Oblivious ♡∘°∘ despite being so clear about their crush on you, you can't seem to understand them at all (fluff)

Arvid Lindblad | 03

none yet !

Arthur Leclerc | ??

Is it Casual Now? ♡∘°∘ awkward situation-ships where you want more but it turns out you were being led on (angst) ♡∘°∘ bad ending !

Liam Lawson | moving soon!!! <3

Back With Your Ex ♡∘°∘ the boys' helped you get over your toxic ex, only for you to soft launch that you're back together... which is awful because they've been waiting ages for you to be single (smau)

[gotta-winwin]

(🎞️) ... hit the road docu.<> on an unfamiliar road

masterlist | cyana's masterlist

word count: 2.2k TW: angst, anxiety, scoups hiatus, one swear word italics are interviews cut in between a/n: chills while writing this omg. having to rewatch coups' hit the road episode was PAINFUL but i did it for you guys ಥ‿ಥ

"Come sit next to me." Dino waved Cyana over as they sat in a diamond formation for their group photo.

She nodded, putting down her food to join them, taking her place next to her twin maknae.

They were nearly finished 1/4 of their world tour now.

"Where's Mingyu?" Seungcheol called from the very back, taking his place as the group's eldest and leader. "He's the only one not here. Mingyu!" His voice sounded brighter today.

Their leader confused Cyana. She could never tell if he was improving or just silently getting worse.

"I've been learning to video edit recently." Mingyu told her and Seungcheol through a mouth-full of food.

Cyana gave him a happy smile. "That sounds fun." She quietly snuck another piece of meat onto Seungcheol's plate as she spoke.

"As the team's leader," Seungcheol spoke to the camera, his hands gesturing to himself. "I have the role of being both strict and relatable."

Seungcheol nodded at Mingyu to continue. "Is it difficult?" He asked, reaching over to his plate and frowning when he picked up another piece of meat. He glanced over at Cyana, who was doing her best not to look at him.

"Sometimes I feel like their younger brother." Seungcheol let out a soft chuckle. "It gives me energy and makes me feel more comfortable."

"I've been editing so much I see it in my sleep." Mingyu told the two of them. "Do you get that?"

Seungcheol shook his head. "Well, no."

Cyana nodded. "Yeah. Like how you feel like you're still playing a shooting game in your sleep."

"Exactly."

Seungcheol frowned, turning to Cyana. "You've been playing shooting games?"

She shrugged. "Wonwoo lets me on his gaming computer sometimes if I promise not to bother him whenever I'm at his and Mingyu's place." She discreetly slid another piece of meat onto Seungcheol's plate. "He only owns shooting games."

"I've been seeing Cyana like a daughter recently." Seungcheol laughed at the thought. "Or like my younger sister. But really she's like our mother, even though she's the youngest. She takes care of all of us in her own ways."

"It was near the end of our show where I noticed Coups oppa was limping." Cyana winced at the memory. "He was hiding it very well, you couldn't see it on his face - he was still laughing and waving to the crowd during our encore."

Cyana patted DK on the back amidst the chaos of Aju Nice, motioning for the two of them to move to the center.

DK looked back at her, both surprised and bubbling with joy. Cyana usually held back during their encores, preferring to move along the sides of the stage and interact with fans that way.

"I was sad my feet were hurting during our encore." Seungcheol revealed to the interviewer. "Dancing hurt, but jumping hurt even more. And I wanted to play with the members."

The boys cheered on DK and Cyana as they held a mini dance battle in the center of the stage, Cyana pulling out all the b-boy moves Minghao had taught her for fun. She caught Seungcheol's face light up from the corner, standing next to Wonwoo.

"I jumped extra hard that day." She recalled. "I jumped twice as hard because Coups oppa couldn't, and I knew it was what he would've done if he could."

The restaurant had a slight draft as Cyana sat next to Seungcheol, quietly watching as he grilled them both a piece of meat.

"Everybody!" She looked up to see Dino and Mingyu standing in the middle of the restaurant, shot glasses lifted high into the air. "Let's do a fighting on the count of three!"

Today had been their last concert in Japan, officially closing the Japan leg of their world tour.

"Everyone! Good job on Ode To You Japan!" Dino yelled, "Fighting on the count of three!"

Cyana laughed as Mingyu did his best to translate for him, repeating the boy's words in Japanese. As she laughed, she tucked herself closer to Seungcheol, almost subconsciously.

He noticed, like he did with everything, grabbing her hand and tucking her arm underneath his own, patting it as he gripped it in a silent sign of support.

"1,2,3 Fighting!!"

She looked at Seungcheol with a goofy grin, clinking her glass clumsily against his.

"Drunk Nana is adorable." DK mused, watching the interaction from in front of them. "She gets so clingy."

"It's nice." Seungcheol admitted, smiling affectionately when Cyana only shuffled closer, unaware that they were talking about her.

"I think that was the last good day." Seungcheol bit back tears. "Eating with everyone, Nana by my side. The last real good day."

"I could tell something was wrong with Coups oppa the moment we landed in Jakarta."

Cyana tugged on Mingyu's arm to catch his attention.

He looked up from his phone, his smile morphing into a frown when he gauged her worried expression. "What's wrong?"

"Something's wrong with Coups." She mumbled, leaning against the couch where he sat. "It's like he's dreading going onstage."

Mingyu glanced over at the boy in question, who was mindlessly playing with his fingers over by the makeup chairs. "He looks fine to me."

Cyana shook her head, adamant something was wrong. "No. You really can't tell?"

Mingyu gave his hyung another look, a proper, hard one this time. "He just looks worried." He looked up at Cyana, wondering why she was so concerned. "Coups hyung is always worried though, especially during tour."

Her shoulders drooped at the mention of Seungcheol's anxiety. "He'll be okay." She muttered, half to Mingyu but mostly to comfort herself.

It got more noticeable once they were onstage.

This time, Mingyu could see it too. Seungcheol was clutching onto his red mic as if his hands would shake without it, his eyes bouncing from place to place as his turn to introduce himself grew nearer.

"Hi, I'm Seventeen's leader, S.Coups." He said into the mic, and Mingyu knew it lacked his usual energy and charisma.

"You good?" He mouthed to him, facing away from the fans to ask Seungcheol what on earth was going on. "Do you need a break?"

His hyung only brushed him off, leaving Mingyu to look at the end of the line, where Cyana stood, equally worried. Their interaction had not been missed by her keen eyes.

"I thought.." Seungcheol's voice was weak as he spoke. "I thought as the group's leader, I should at least keep going until the group greeting." He hit his hands against his leg, rhythmically, as if it would stop the tears from flowing. "But I knew Mingyu and Nana knew something was wrong."

"Jakarta was..." Cyana paused, trying to find the right wording to describe the sheer amount of feelings that had gone into that one night. "painful." She finally chose, placing her finger delicately on the word. "At that point, we were doing the concert just to finish it."

Cyana watched bitterly as Seungcheol collapsed into one of their cars. She wished it had been her instead. If there was some way to switch places with him, to transfer all of his pain into her own mind, she would do it. Regardless.

"It'll be okay."

She turned to see Jeonghan standing there, having changed out of his concert outfit, a jacket thrown over his shivering shoulders.

"It'll be okay." She repeated his words back to him, wanting to tell him it would go both ways. If they were okay, everything would be okay here too.

Dino watched helplessly as Cyana paced back and forth in the hotel hallway, lingering briefly each time she passed Seungcheol's closed door. He wanted to do something, anything. He felt utterly stupid and useless but the other members had told him there was nothing they could do for Seungcheol. Nothing that would really help, anyways.

"Everyone kept telling me to just leave him alone." Cyana confided during the interview, wringing her hands. "That he had asked for space and we needed to give him that. But I felt so...silly, just sitting on my hands and doing nothing - when he was suffering so much next door."

"Go in." Dino had enough of it all. He stood up from his spot on the lobby couch, motioning for Cyana to open Seungcheol's door. "I'll cover for you, just hurry."

Cyana paused in her pacing, staring up at him with widened eyes. "What?"

"I'm sick of being useless." He said loudly, frustration evident in his tone. "I don't care if he asked for space. Space is the last thing he needs right now. He needs us - but obviously he won't let us see him like that cause he thinks it means he's weak - he's just human, for fucks sake!" Dino threw his hands in the air, finally letting it all out. He had been silently watching Seungcheol suffocate himself for weeks.

Cyana could only nod, a bit taken aback by his outburst but grateful someone was finally agreeing with her. "Okay. I'll be quick, watch the door for me."

"I suppose both of us knew silence could be a killer. And that silence was nobody's friend when it came to anxiety." Cyana huffed. "But of course, Coups oppa was stubborn."

"I thought I told no one to come in." It was the first thing Seungcheol said to Cyana when she announced her presence with a little knock.

"It's just me." She said, praying he'd be a little more accepting if it was her and not one of the boys.

"Go away." He sounded like a petulant teenager and looked like one too. Cyana found him curled up under the covers, his face covered with his arms.

"Can I read you something?" Cyana suddenly asked, getting the sense that he did not want to talk. Throwing her original game plan aside, she took a seat on the other side of the bed next to him and pulled out her phone. "I promise we don't have to say anything. Just let me read this to you, and if you want me to leave, I'll leave."

She got a nod. She considered that a small win.

"Okay. I've- um." She paused, collecting herself. "I've never shown anything I've written to anyone." She warned him. "So...be kind."

You do not have to beg on your knees, to be loved and you do not have to will away tears that would otherwise paint streams against your weathered face and you do not have to hide the callouses on your hands that speak of centuries of experience I do not believe, god gave you strong shoulders just for them to break I do not believe there is anyone to blame as time keeps slipping and our minds spin out of control you only need to let the little child in you glow and tell them there are things on this earth out of his control that he does not need to carry the weight of the world hand me your backpack I'll spilt it into fourteen separate parts and give you back a piece of yourself

She finished reading, looking up from her screen to gauge his reaction. "I call this one Cornerstone." She whispered after a pause. "It's not very good, but it's something I wanted you to hear."

He continued to just lay there, quiet, covering his eyes with his arm.

"Good night, Coups oppa." Cyana moved off the bed as gently as she could. "I love you."

She was glad she couldn't see his face as she left. She didn't hand out I love yous easily. She couldn't remember the last time she ever said those three words, but she figured he needed to hear them. And she really did mean them.

Dino was waiting for her outside like he said he would.

"You're crying." He approached her, moving to wipe her tears with the pad of his thumb.

She sniffed, raising a hand to pat her wet face. "Am I? I didn't notice."

She didn't fight it when Dino pulled her into his chest for a hug. "We're strong." He muttered into her hair. "Don't forget that."

Seungcheol laid very still as he listened to Cyana leave the room. He was afraid that if he made any sudden motion, she might turn back around and realize he had been crying.

He had wanted to tell her that the poem she read to him was very good - so good in fact, that it had twisted his insides and left him feeling incredibly hollow. It was a strange feeling, like he was sad he was so loved.

Furiously wiping the tears off his face, he flipped onto his back, staring up at the ceiling. He'd have to ask her to print that poem out for him someday, when he could talk to her and not feel like sobbing into her arms.

"I felt terrible and angry at myself for running away." Seungcheol confessed to the camera. "But the more I rested, the more I overcame. And Cyana-" He paused.

"What?" The interviewer's voice spoke from behind the camera. "What is Cyana to you?"

"A blessing." He nodded. "That girl is a blessing."

[cottonlemonade]

Hi there! could i get a medium to large mango with boba for tsukishima! i really love your work

Just A Dream

word count: 806 || avg. reading time: 3 mins.

pairing: post-time skip husband Tsukishima x chubby!Reader

genre: this has it all - for some reason, fluff, a pinch of angst and a dash of spice

warnings: mdni, nsfw

request: fluffy-spicy, clingy husband Tsukishima

Kei woke with a start. Fumbling fingers reached for the glasses on his nightstand. It was absurd, of course you‘d lay next to him when he turned around. Right? He swallowed and looked over to the other side of the bed. Sure enough, in the dark he could just make out your soft curves under the blanket, gently rising and falling in a deep peaceful sleep. He let out a sigh. It was just a dream. You hadn‘t really fought, he hadn‘t made you cry, you hadn‘t been disappointed in him. You hadn‘t left. But nevertheless, the panic in his chest felt real. He should make sure to prevent his nightmare from ever becoming reality. What an absurd thought. Or was it?

He leaned over and, his eyes now accustomed to the night, admired your features. The cute chubby cheeks all smooshed together, making you look impossibly adorable. How he ever got you to fall in love with him he‘d never know. He felt like going down that road of thought was not exactly safe for him. Your husband brushed a strand of your hair behind your ear and with a touch light as a feather kissed your temple before getting out of bed.

First things first.

He headed to the kitchen to grab some water, emptying the cup in deep gulps, feeling his pulse settling down.

Quietly, he reached into the cupboards to set the table for breakfast the next morning and once he was satisfied with his work, grabbed his phone. He had used this service many times before but it had probably been months since the last time he even got you flowers. He bit his lips, scolding himself, as he selected a bouquet of your favorites to be sent to your office some time next week as a surprise. Then he stood in the dimly lit living room, looking around for inspiration. What else could he do? What would Tadashi or Akiteru do?

Didn‘t his friend just tell him last weekend that he always included a little love note in his wife‘s lunch box?

Now, Kei, as gifted of a man as he was, didn‘t cook that well. He was decent with ramen and could fry a mean egg but his skills were definitely not enough for a bento. Plus, technically it was Sunday tomorrow and it wouldn‘t make sense for the lunch box to sit around a whole day. But… he could do the love note. How cheesy. Would you even like it if he did? He sighed again. Only one way to find out. He rummaged around in his desk and found a little note pad you had gifted him as a joke last Valentine‘s day - two brachiosauruses forming a heart with their long necks. He cringed when he reached for a pen. But it had to be done. No stone should remain unturned in his endeavor to prove his love for you. With gritted teeth he wrote one note after another, but they all sounded too out there, too much, insincere.

So in the end after several crumpled dino post-its he wrote I love you, x K and, before he could change his mind, quickly stuck it into your day planner for you to find on Monday.

After another thorough check on the kitchen table to make sure he didn‘t forget any dishes, he made his way back to the bedroom. His feet, cold from the wooden floor, slipped underneath the blanket and he pulled you close to wipe away the very last remnants of panic clinging to his heart. You were right here in his arms, still asleep, still unbearably gorgeous. Kei buried his face in your hair and took a deep calming breath.

He supposed there was one more way he could show you his love tonight…

Kisses pressed to your shoulder and neck made you stir against him.

“Kei?“

You turned around, sleepily rubbing your eyes. He brought his hand from your hips up to your breasts and squeezed them gently, just the way you liked, ghosting his fingertips over your hardening nipples.

“Mmh… Kei… what?“

“I need you, sweetheart.“, he muttered. You couldn‘t know that he meant it in more ways than one.

You let out a tiny sleepy giggle. “Is that so? Well, no complaints here.“

He kissed you, elated when you immediately opened your mouth for him to deepen his affection.

“Can I … ah, y/n… can I be inside you?“

“As if I could ever say no to you…“

He raised your nightgown above your head, relishing in the sight before him - his beautiful naked wife smiling up at him.

When he entered you slowly a few moments later he felt beyond relieved. It had all just been a dream and yet, he still couldn‘t believe his luck.

a/n: this one got away from me - I’m so sorry for the added angst! I hope it’s still fine. Thank you so much for your request and your kind words and I love your writing, too!! 🌱

for requests see here

[fics-lovebot]

seventeen fic recs pt. 1

main masterlist - svt fic recs pt. 2

· ♡ · · tysm to the amazing creative minds of the writers for giving me sevaral moments of joy reading your creations

pls remember to reblog if you like any of my recs❤️

dating svt (hyung line) - ( @wqnwoos ) LOVE IT, joshua got me on a chokehold, and wonwoo PLEASEEEEEEEEEEE :( wherecanIgetoneofthose

dating svt (maknae line) - ( @wqnwoos ) mingyu as a back hugger is so :(((((((((, I can totally see dino writing love letters to his s/o :(((

you take your promise ring off during a fight - ( @wuahae ) performance unit, vocal unit , hip-hop unit, angsty af, made me cry a little

kitten ears - ( @hansols-yoda-boxers ) pwp, smut, hybrid!reader in heat, LEMME TELL YOU SOMETHING ABOUT THIS ONE RIGHT HERE, IT´S FILTH,,,,, and my fav one is hoshi´s LDJSLFJH read it whenever you feel like having a 2019 smut fest

kiss attack - ( @blue-jisungs ) fluff, the wonwoo one was my fav

caught in a trap - ( @cheolism ) smut, seunkwan´s sister!reader, older brother´s bff!cheol, face riding, he makes you beg for it, “you’ve got me in your little trap, baby. what are you gonna do with me?” SLDKJSHDFKSJ whY is he like tHAT??

as your boyfriend - ( @chanswifey ) bf!cheol, he gets offended if you don´t let him pay???? now THAT´S my kind of man

he angry fucks you bc he lost in a video game - ( @sluttyminghao ) bf!wonwoo, smut, explicittt, the title??? I can see the vision. listen the way this just escalated INMEDIATLY I-, he is ANGRY FR FR in the hottest way, just read it ok pls

the peephole - ( @rubyreduji ) smut, perv!wonu, roomies au, he´s obsessed, "Speak up, slut. Or have I fucked you completely stupid already" HELLOOO?????

couple things - ( @wqnwoos ) bf!wonu, slice of life, fluff, “is there… a reason you’re upside down, my love?” 

lingering looks - ( @smileycarat ) fluff, idol!wonu x idol!reader, POWER COUPLEEEEEEE, I love it, this could be us but he playin

marriage - ( @yikesmary ) married life au, dad!wonu, his daughter (a child) wants to marry uncle gyu so he goes on cardiac arrest bc there´s no mf way bUT at least it wasnt soonyoung LMAOO the hoshi slander never stops

workplace crush - ( @icyminghao ) work au, co-worker!wonu, I CAN TOTALLY SEE HIM AS "THE IT DEPARTAMENT CRUSH"!!!!! I would have had to quit, it´s too much

lucky! - ( @97-liners ) bf!wonu, fluff, reader is out of it bc of anesthesia and she cant believeee mingyu´s hot rommie is her mans, IT´S SO CUTEEE

bruised - ( @hannieehaee ) angst, fluffy ending, break up au, tough guy wonu but he´s actually a cutie pie, he´s careless about his safety, I LOVE ITTT, the angst is gewd

what you need - ( @cheolhub ) smut, shy!reader, soft dom!wonwoo, praise kink, JEON MF WONWOO I- LSFHSKDJFHLSJDFLH this made me blush yall, the ending too sdfksdfkh

birthday boy - ( @odxrilove )fluff, f2l, mingyu au. the fLIRTING!!??, i honestly blushed, my eyes got watery and everythin, i HATE IT (not) bc why is he so dreamy every TIME??, also,,, the make out sesh?? MY GODDD, i swear I felt it. he. is. inloveeeeee

beach boobs babes - ( @rubyreduji ) smut, mingyu beach au, chubby reader, big boobs, he´s suffering sfjfjdhdjdh, HE´S COCKY,, literally, shit talker, titty fuckin, he likes thicc girlsssss

pup code - ( @beefboyandbabygirl ) fluff, smut, crack, size kink kinda, mingyu has a fat crushhhh, lowkey himbo vibes, he gets so nervous lmao, jeonghan is a lil shit, somebody help mingyu omg, wonwoo is a victim!!!!!, “I’ve never done the Zoolander face in my life!” jefjrejufriuj

sleepy talk - ( @wheeboo ) fluff, hubby!gyu, married au, “Do you think I’m pretty?” “Sweetheart, we’re married.”

hybe romance - ( @hannieehaee ) idol!gyu, idol!reader, fluff, love itttttttttttt, THOSE PICS OF MINGYU ON PART 2 LORDDDD, if I was an idol hanging out with the 97 squad i´d be a hOE, no questions asked, bunch of men i want to fucc sitting together would be the end of me

thirsty - ( @cheolism ) smut, those pics of mingYU NAUURRR WOOF WOOF SDKHWEYWRAWRRAWR lemme stop bc why tf would joshua do that for????? pls I love big men, the smut and the stamina are both crazy

mingyu´s cause of death - ( @welcometomyoasis ) FLUFF, bf!gyu, this made me really want to cry myself to sleep from the beggining bc there´S NO WAAAAAAAAYYYYY :´´) so cute #simp #whipped

cuffing season - ( @number1mingyustan ) smut, richbf!mingyu, he got a black card, good money, good job, loves spoiling you AND he´s wearing the wife beater - grey sweats combo??????? CUFF HIM UP NAAAOWWW, AND AND AND he also makes sure to fuck you without ruining your hair and nails that HE PAID FOR!!!!!! BUT since he gets a lil carried away and you chipped a nail he gives 300 dollar$$$ to get it fiixed right away LIKE????? god please when is it my turn to be happy

wet sound - ( @nsfwhao ) mingyu smut, short one, THE DIRTY TALK!!!!!! I HATE HIMMMMM bc wdym he makes her shut tf up so she can listen to her own wet coochie sOUNDS????? call 911 rn

[b38rman]

THROUGH THE MOTIONS [pt. 1] ⋆.˚𖦹⋆✮⋆.˚ Ollie Bearman

series tags - ollie bearman x afab!reader, enemies to lovers, slight angst, slight sickfic moment, eventual smut, explicit sexual content

synopsis - Between you getting an international driving permit and a rental car or having to spend time carpooling with the Ferrari Driver Academy co-driver you despised the most, you just had to choose the more difficult option. (Spoiler alert: it didn’t have anything to do with getting the permit or a rental car.)

parts - 1 | 2

rating - part 1 - teen and up readers

warnings - ollie being awkward and a little mean , a really bad flu

a/n - comments and feedback are very much appreciated! 💞

The dawn October breeze in Maranello had a certain bite to it. Still, even if you couldn’t figure out if you loved it or hated it, you knew you’d never get tired of it. 

The ever-cooling air stung your nostrils as you took a breath in. Despite the unpleasant bodily sensations, you had to stand outside, dressed in firetruck red, because Ollie told you to.

“—Or else I’m not picking you up.” The snark commanded. 

Ever since you signed with the Ferrari Driver Academy, shifting gears to work with Prema in your upcoming season, you’d put off getting a rental car and a driver’s permit like any sensible person would have done. Instead, you chose to rely on overpriced modes of transportation to get you places on time. 

Rene brought up the idea first in passing during a dinner you were having, Ollie and you comically sitting as far apart as possible. The latter kept his head down, infuriatingly emotionless at the topic. 

The arrangement was cemented though when Jock had one-too-much of you being barely on time. Ollie, who initially grinned and rolled his eyes at your predicament, fell eerily silent. However, if you two were anything besides enemies, you were people pleasers. 

You watched as the familiar black Volkswagon pulled into the front of your host family’s house. A pool of anxiety flooded your stomach, but you fought it and entered the car.

It was warm inside. It smelled like him.

You didn’t dare make eye contact with him, even though you felt his gaze on you as you set your bag down and put your seatbelt on.

“You good?” Ollie asked, and you were surprised with how soft his voice sounded. You felt your guard rising as you knew he could use any interaction against you.

“Yes.” Your tone stayed flat—neutral.

The car ride was silent and a tinge awkward, just like how every early interaction you had with Ollie was. The thing is, you got along with everyone just fine; in fact, every other FDA driver felt like family already, if only Ollie didn’t stick out like a sore thumb. 

It was in the little things—like how Ollie would be telling a story to everyone else and he’d go quiet the moment you walked in the room, or how Dino or Rafa would ask if you were coming to a hangout you weren’t invited to in the first place. It was pathetic to feel like you were left out, but honestly you couldn’t help it.

That initial awkwardness turned into slight bitterness. The passive-aggressive nature of your interactions bled into everything you did. You figured that two could play this game.

No matter how hard you resisted, you felt your body begin to slip into the early morning fatigue. The warmth, the rumble of the car beneath you, and the wear and tear of the past weeks were definitely getting to you.

You hadn’t realized you’d fallen asleep until you felt hands tugging on your jacket. 

“We’re here.” Ollie stated blankly, pulling on the handbrake and turning the engine off. 

“Right, yeah.” You rushed out of the car before the embarassment could set in.

Your routine was repetitive enough to be sickening, and you’d endure car rides to and from the factory for days on end as long as it wasn’t a race week that Ollie had to be in.

Both of you barely said anything about it though, which was surprising given that things often turned into wars of who could have the final say between the two of you. To be fair, once, you fought about which Mario Kart set up was the best for Heaven’s sake. Let’s just say it didn’t end well and the other drivers had to intervene.

Today, though, you’d come off a week of late nights at the simulator to help with the team’s data. Ollie was conveniently away, leading you to be more resourceful than efficient about getting home. It involved a lot more walking, waiting, biking or a combination of the three. 

As a result, the cold had finally decided to seep into your bones and you were down with a flu so bad you were sure you were having visions. 

You could barely sit up and eat, much less check your phone. A half-eaten, day-old bowl of soup was getting cold on your bedside table, and you honestly felt more helpless than anything.

The days were lost on you, and once Monday rolled around, who could blame you for forgetting to tell Ollie about any of this.

You tossed and turned in your bed as the sun crept through your blinds. More voices were present in the hallway, which was unusual but you couldn’t bring yourself to feel anything but pure exhaustion to the point of apathy. 

Due to this, your eyes or brain didn’t have time to process Ollie opening your bedroom door and stomping right in.

“I told you I wouldn’t pick you up if you weren’t outside.” His attempt to tell you off didn’t sound all that convincing. 

You just hummed in response, but the weird feeling in your stomach began to grow as he shut the door behind him. You closed your eyes, like that would do anything to stop how your body was responding. 

You weren’t sure why or if you were imagining it, but Ollie made his way to sit on the side of your bed you weren’t curled into. It felt like a flu-induced hallucination, but you could feel his warmth and his scent emanating from near you. 

Maybe you were just really sick. Maybe he smelled like mint and citrus and you wanted nothing else but to bury yourself in the smell. You were so tired. 

You felt a warm, calloused hand reluctantly lay itself on your temple, You prayed he didn’t feel your pulse racing.

“You’ve got temperature.” He muttered under his breath. 

“I’m freezing though.” You answered back, not missing a beat but with an evident lump in your throat. You finally made yourself look at him, and he looked back at you with something that looked almost like worry. 

Ollie began shedding his coat, one you’d seen him wear a dozen times to the factory. You were honestly confused about what was happening until he pulled your comforter down and began helping you into it. Afterwards, it probably looked like you were about to head to work in pajamas and a uniform far too big for you. 

His warmth and scent enveloped you to the point that you weren’t sure if you were breathing at all. You were still really cold though. 

“I’ll make you some tea.” He said, getting up and doing just that right as he did. 

You weren’t sure where this kindness was coming from, but it definitely did feel like a white flag being waved upon the wars you were having. Even if it was just for now. 

He returned not too long after, persuading you to drink the cup of ginger tea all at once. It was the first thing you consumed in a really long time.

“You’re much less scary like this.” Ollie said sheepishly as you drank the rest of the tea. 

“Yeah? What’s that supposed to mean?” You tried to add some bite into the words. Your bodily weakness wouldn’t let that happen. 

Ollie didn’t respond. Instead, he just looked at you. You wanted to curl up and hide under his gaze, all because you couldn’t figure out if it felt better or worse than being scrutinized by him. Right now, he looked at you with a wonder you weren’t sure was genuine. 

“I’m—um—done with the tea.” You stammered out, handing him the cup as a way to get both of you out of the conversational grid lock. 

He moved to set the tea cup right beside the bowl of soup on your bedside table. 

You weren’t entirely sure what happened next. All you remember was you drifting off with Ollie on his phone still by your side. 

You woke up in a cold sweat at one point, trying to get up but a warm, comfortably weight was wrapped around you. You decided to go back to sleep.

The next time you woke up, it was dark. Ollie was nowhere to be seen.

And all you had left of him was his jacket. 

[mocchiixxx]

The Art of Letting Go Seventeen ANGST Series # | 13: When the Silence Becomes Too Loud

Genre: Angst, Secret Relationship, Loneliness, Emotional Disconnect

🦦 Lee Chan | Dino x Reader

Summary: Dino had always been the bright, energetic one, his enthusiasm contagious in every conversation. But lately, the silence between you two had grown louder. He was no longer the same boy who could make you laugh in an instant, the boy who would text you with a dozen cute messages throughout the day. Now, his messages were few, his words even fewer. You couldn't ignore the growing distance, the coldness that replaced the warmth he once gave you. The boy who once filled your life with light now made you feel more alone than ever.

Dino’s texts were the first thing you checked every morning.

They were bright, full of energy, and sweet little notes that always made you smile. But that was before everything started to change.

Now, when you woke up, the first thing you saw was an empty screen. No 'Good morning!' no 'I miss you,' just silence.

The silence felt like a constant weight on your chest, heavy and suffocating.

You sat on the couch, phone in hand, staring at it like it was some foreign object you didn’t recognize.

It had been a week since the last time he sent you a message, and the last phone call you had with him left you with a pit in your stomach.

“Sorry, I’m busy with practice. I’ll call you later, okay?”

The words were familiar, but they didn’t offer you the comfort they once did.

It wasn’t the first time he had said that. He was always busy, rehearsals, schedules, promotions, but it felt like he was drifting further away with each passing day. And you couldn’t stand it anymore.

You dialed his number, waiting as the phone rang. It felt like an eternity before he answered, his voice tired, soft, and distant.

“Hey,” he greeted, and for a moment, you could almost hear the smile in his voice, but it didn’t reach his words. “How are you?”

“I’ve been better,” you said, trying to keep your tone light. “What’s going on, Chan? I feel like you’ve been pulling away.”

There was a long pause on the other end. You could tell he wasn’t sure how to respond, that familiar hesitance that had started to grow between you two.

“I’m sorry,” he said quietly. “I’ve just been caught up with everything. You know how it is.”

“Yeah, I know,” you replied, though the words tasted bitter in your mouth. You had always known his life was demanding, but this distance, this silence, was becoming unbearable. “But it’s been so long since we really talked. It’s like you’re always too busy for me, and I can’t keep pretending it’s okay.”

Dino sighed heavily, and you could feel the exhaustion in his voice. “I didn’t mean for you to feel like this. I just... I don’t know how to balance everything.”

“You don’t have to do it alone,” you said, your voice shaking. “But I can’t keep waiting for you to make time for me. I can’t keep pretending that I’m okay when I’m the only one trying. I miss you, Chan. I miss the way things used to be.”

There was silence again, the kind that filled the space between you, too thick to cut through.

“I miss you too,” he finally said, but his voice lacked the conviction it once had. “I’m just so tired, and I don’t want to drag you down with me.”

“You’re not dragging me down,” you whispered. “But you’re drifting away from me, and I can’t chase you anymore. I can’t keep waiting for something that might never come.”

His voice faltered, a tremor of uncertainty in his words. “I don’t want to lose you.”

“You already have,” you said, the words feeling like knives in your chest. “You’ve already lost me, Lee Chan. The person I was before... I’m not her anymore. The silence between us is too loud, and I can’t ignore it any longer.”

“No, please,” he begged, but there was nothing he could say to make it better. The damage had been done, and you both knew it.

“I love you,” you said, your voice breaking, “but love isn’t enough when it feels like you’re not even there anymore.”

“I’m sorry,” Dino whispered, but the apology felt too late, too far away to make a difference now.

You hung up without saying another word, the tears falling freely now as the emptiness of the silence took over.

The boy who used to bring so much joy into your life had become a ghost, and you were left behind...

alone in the echo of his absence.

A/N: This is the end of the series. I hope you like it guys. Should I heal you after this or should I drop a more painful one? HAHAHA just kidding. Thank you for reading, until next time. 🫶

@vixensss @babycaratdeul @foxiesgf24

[suhnshinehaos]

growing pains : act three, part eighteen (2/2)

series synopsis : people say that you’ll experience three kinds of love in your lifetime. the first is an idealistic love, the kind that feels straight out of a fairy tale. the second is the hard love, the kind that will leave you with lessons about yourself and the love you want and need to experience. finally, the love you never see coming. this is the story of your three loves. pairing : svt 97 line x gn!reader genre/s : non-idol au, coming of age, angst, fluff, my attempts at humor act three, part eighteen (2/2) wc : 1k

act three : the unexpected love  ➤  part 18 : it's all in the timing

after years studying and working abroad, yn is finally back home to a new job and new faces. all they want now is to focus on nothing else but their career and one of their coworker’s friends, minghao, makes it all the more interesting. 

previous  ➤  act three, part eighteen (1/2) next  ➤  act three, part nineteen growing pains ➤  masterlist 

you don’t know if it’s by drink four or song fifteen that you decided you need some fresh air.

it was rather easy to slip away unnoticed. seungcheol was basically pouring alcohol straight into people’s mouths, a line had formed in front of him and he was more than happy to pour some into his own. soonyoung and dino were dancing their hearts out to whatever pop song seokmin and jihoon were singing along to. even as you exited the doors, with every step you took, you could hear the unrestrained laughter, the lively chatter, the thump thump thumping of the bass from the abnormally large speakers. 

yeah, it was easy to slip away unnoticed.

at least, you thought so until you hear distant footsteps grow louder and louder until you could feel a presence behind you.

the corner of your mouth twitched upwards, tilting your head up to the clear sky.

“what are you doing out here?” the words fall past your lips and into the still night air. “you should be drunk or on the dancefloor. or both.”

minghao chuckles, soft and serene, taking a couple of steps forward until his arm brushes against yours. “i could ask you the same thing, you know. this celebration’s partly for you.”

“i know.” you let out a breath, refusing to look at him. even though you know he’s looking right at you. his gaze has always been intense, and for a time you found it quite intimidating. it used to feel like he was examining you, scrutinizing every quirk of your brow or purse of your lips. 

but now it felt like an entirely different thing. almost comforting.

he’s studying you, feeling out how you’re feeling with every word and breath that escaped you, yet you know you have nothing to be conscious of. 

“i get it,” he stuffs his hands in the pockets of his trousers, “it’s nice out here.”

“mhmm.” you hum, and there’s a part of you that expected your heart to thump out of your chest. for you to hear the ringing of its beating in your ears, so loud that you couldn’t quite ignore it. but it’s not there. it’s quiet, tranquil, at peace.

no panic, no uncertainty, no fear. 

it’s the feeling you once felt with seokmin, before time and distance had shaken the idealism of young love.

it’s the feeling you chased after, the feeling you craved in mingyu,  in a period in your life when you would have given him the world. only if he had asked. 

“what are you thinking about?” minghao nudges your shoulder, eyes expectant and his head tilted to the side. 

you blink and a beat passes. then another. and another.

the word slips past your lips before you could even have the time to process it. “you.”

minghao’s breath hitches, and suddenly he’s all too aware of his own body. he feels his breathing, the air that’s coming in and out of his lungs. he hears his heartbeat ringing in his ears, thumping to the sound of your voice. he notices the palms of his hands, cold, needing the warmth that emanated from yours.

it’s a common feeling when he’s around you.

there’s always a rush of feelings, emotions, that courses through his veins. awe, hope, intrigue, delight, sometimes even tinges of fear and anxiety. how could a single person make him feel so much? 

he fights the smile that’s threatening to spread across his lips, “what about me?”

“sometimes,” you pause, and your mind flashes to the past few months you’ve spend with him. the times he’s helped you out professionally and personally. the late nights you’ve spent together, going over raw shots of a shoot you had previously done. the early mornings spent running through now familiar city streets, discovering little cafes and restaurants you never would have known existed. the afternoons running random errands, from grocery shopping to laundry. 

for a moment, you’re taken back to several years ago. to a park in new york city. to a stranger handing you back your camera after he had spent two days trying every possible phone number combination.

“i look at you and i think,” you exhale. no turning back now. “here you are. where have you been? i’ve been waiting for someone like you.”

heat rushes to minghao’s cheeks, and once again you’ve made him aware that his heart is beating, blood is rushing through his veins. he’s alive, and he knows he is because he feels.

there will never be a word that will fully capture just how much he feels for you, but he’ll try his best.

“i adore you.” his thumb gently moves on your cheek, his free hand grabbing the edge of your coat to pull you closer to him. “and if it’s any consolation, i’m sorry it took me so long to find you again.”

“i forgive you.” a laugh escapes your lips and you rest your forehead against his. 

you wonder what your life would have been like if you met him earlier, if he had gone to the same high school as you. or perhaps if you had met him in your college years, if you had kept contact after he had returned your camera. 

there’s really nothing to forgive. 

there’s only so much to be thankful for. 

to fresh-out-of-high school you and seokmin for taking the leap and chasing after your dreams, even if it meant potentially losing the romantic relationship you had built.

to post-college you and mingyu, for loving each other enough to let go of each other too.

to the you of today, who didn’t stand their ground on a misguided first impression, to keeping an open heart and mind to grow and learn.

“do you really?”

minghao’s voice pulls you back into reality. you nod.

“hm. maybe i should take out on a date, just to be sure.” his lips brush past your ear, breath warm on your neck, pulling back to ask, “what do you say?”

“i’d like that a lot, hao.”

from reese, with love <3

the words 'i like you' and 'i love you' don't feel enough for ynhao... they just know

anyways, it's currently 12:15 am and i was going to sleep but i got way too excited so i'm posting this now! i know this has been a long time coming for ynhao, i hope i was able to them justice.

thank you for reading, just a couple more parts to go :) all the replies/rbs/asks are always appreciated. i'm going to sleep now hehe i'll see you in the morning and i hope you're all doing well <3

also i cannot get spell out of my head, help!

[amyzworldds]

hello!! Can i request for a 14th member svt au (each member reactions if possible!) where the 14th member (u) got so much hate point she left the group and became a solo artist, she won her award and did a speech and then she saw each svt’s members reactions!

Title: Thirteen Cheers for Fourteen

Masterlist | Part 2

In a whirlwind of hate and heartbreak, Y/N, the lone female maknae of Seventeen, faces relentless backlash from fans, pushing her to leave the group and vanish abroad. After a year of silence, she returns to Korea, forging a solo path with a powerful comeback, while the thirteen boys grapple with her absence. Pairing: Seventeen x 14th member Genre: Fluff, Heavy angst

The apartment was suffocatingly silent, save for the faint drip of a leaking faucet in the kitchen. Y/N sat on the cold hardwood floor, her back pressed against the wall, knees drawn up to her chest. Her eyes were swollen, the skin around them raw from weeks—maybe months—of crying. She couldn’t tell anymore. Time had blurred into an endless haze of pain. A half-empty water bottle sat beside her, untouched for hours. She hadn’t eaten today. Or yesterday. She didn’t care.

The hate had been there since the beginning. Nine years ago, when Seventeen debuted with her as the only girl, the Korean fans had erupted. “She’s a disgrace.” “A spoiled princess who bought her way in.” “Seventeen doesn’t need her.” She’d been fourteen then, a wide-eyed maknae with dreams bigger than the world. She’d fought tooth and nail to prove herself—begged her father, PLEDIS’s founder, to judge her fairly, trained until her body gave out, poured her soul into every performance. But none of it mattered. To them, she was nothing but a stain.

Now, at twenty-three, the hate had metastasized. Flower wreaths piled up outside HYBE, their ribbons screaming, “Leave Seventeen, Y/N. You’re a curse.” Online, the threats were worse—boycotts, petitions, vile words she couldn’t unsee. They called her names that cut deeper than knives, accused her of things that made her stomach churn. The company had forced her into a hiatus, a “break” to “think things over.” But all it did was leave her alone with her thoughts—and they were merciless.

The boys had tried. God, they’d tried. Seungcheol had held her when she’d broken down after a concert, whispering, “You’re enough, Y/N. You’ve always been enough.” Vernon had sat with her in silence, his presence a quiet anchor. Dino, her fellow maknae, had sobbed into her shoulder, begging, “Don’t let them win, Y/N. Please.” But she’d pushed them away. “I’m fine,” she’d lied, her voice hollow. “I just need space.” They’d stopped coming after she’d screamed at Minghao to leave her alone, her words a jagged sob: “Stop pretending I’m worth saving!”

She wasn’t. Not anymore.

Her phone buzzed on the floor, its screen lighting up with a new message. She didn’t look. It was probably Joshua again, or maybe Wonwoo—soft words she didn’t deserve. She’d shut them all out, locked the door, turned off the lights. Her family had called too, her mother’s voice trembling through the line: “Come home, Y/N. Let us help you.” But she’d hung up, muttering, “I’m okay,” before curling into herself and crying until her throat burned.

She wasn’t okay. She was drowning.

The silence pressed in, heavy and unbearable. Her eyes drifted to a framed photo on the shelf—Seventeen’s first win, all fourteen of them beaming, her tiny figure squeezed between Jun and Hoshi. She’d been so happy then, so naive. Now, that memory felt like a lie. A sob clawed its way up her chest, and she pressed a hand to her mouth, trying to stifle it. But it broke free, loud and ragged, echoing in the empty room.

“Why me?” she whispered to no one, her voice cracking. “I gave everything… everything… and it’s still not enough.”

Her gaze fell to her phone again. Against her better judgment, she reached for it, hands trembling. The lock screen showed a flood of unread messages—“Y/N, please talk to us.” “We miss you.” “You’re our maknae, don’t forget that.” She swiped them away, her breath hitching. She didn’t want their kindness. She didn’t deserve it.

Instead, she opened Twitter. Her name was trending again, a festering wound laid bare for the world to see. She scrolled, each comment a fresh stab to her heart.

“Y/N’s the reason Seventeen’s losing fans. She’s a talentless leech.”

“Imagine training for years just to be a slut who rides her daddy’s coattails. Leave already.”

“Those wreaths aren’t enough. She should just disappear for good.”

“Seventeen was perfect without her. She’s a parasite ruining thirteen good men.”

“No one wants you, Y/N. Do us all a favor and quit.”

Her vision blurred as tears streamed down her face, hot and unrelenting. She clutched the phone tighter, her knuckles white, her sobs growing louder. “I tried,” she choked out, her voice barely audible. “I tried so hard… why do you hate me?”

Another comment loaded: “She’s probably crying right now, playing the victim. Pathetic.”

The phone slipped from her hands, clattering to the floor. She buried her face in her knees, her body shaking with the force of her cries. “I’m not pathetic,” she whimpered, but the words felt empty. Maybe they were right. Maybe she was nothing—a burden, a mistake, a girl who’d dared to dream and paid the price.

She didn’t hear the rain anymore, didn’t feel the cold seeping into her bones. All she felt was the weight of their words, crushing her until there was nothing left. She’d fought for years, but now… now she was tired. So tired.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered into the darkness, to the boys, to herself, to the dream she’d once held so tight. “I can’t do this anymore.”

The phone screen glowed beside her, still open to the endless stream of hate, each word a nail in the coffin of the girl she used to be.

--------------------------------------------------------------

The fluorescent lights of the PLEDIS office buzzed overhead, casting a sterile glow on Y/N’s pale face. She sat across from her father, the man who’d built this empire, her hands trembling as she clutched a pen. The contract termination papers lay between them, a stark white wound on the polished desk. Her manager, Minseo, stood by the window, arms crossed, her expression unreadable.

“I’m leaving,” Y/N said, her voice flat, drained of the fire it once held. “I can’t do this anymore.”

Her father’s jaw tightened, his eyes searching her face—those same eyes that had once sparkled with pride when she debuted. Now, they were clouded with something heavier: guilt, maybe, or regret. “Y/N, you don’t have to—”

“Yes, I do,” she cut him off, her tone sharp but brittle, like glass about to shatter. “I’m not just losing the boys, Dad. I’m losing me. Every day, I wake up and I don’t know who I am anymore. My name—it’s just… it’s just Seventeen’s punching bag. I can’t breathe.”

He leaned forward, hands clasped, voice low and pleading. “We can fight this. We’ll release a statement, hire more security, sue the worst of them—”

“No!” Her shout echoed in the small room, startling her father. Y/N’s chest heaved, tears brimming but refusing to fall. “It won’t stop. It’s been nine years, Dad. Nine years of wreaths, of threats, of people telling me I’m a parasite. I’m done dragging them down. I’m done doubting myself because of it.”

Her father stepped closer, her voice soft but firm. “Y/N, the boys—they’d want to know. They’d fight for you.”

Y/N shook her head, a bitter laugh escaping her lips. “That’s why you can’t tell them. They’d stop me. Seungcheol would lock me in a room until I changed my mind. Jeonghan would talk me to death. Seokmin—he’d cry until I couldn’t stand it. I know them too well.” She swallowed hard, her voice dropping to a whisper. “But I can’t hold on anymore. I’m choosing them… and I’m choosing me.”

Her father’s hands trembled as he slid the papers closer. “Where will you go?”

“Away,” she said simply, signing her name with a shaky hand. “Mom think abroad is best. I need… I need to disappear for a while. To think. To stop drowning.”

Her father’s eyes softened, but she nodded. “We’ll keep it quiet. No leaks to the members. But Y/N… are you sure?”

Y/N didn’t answer. She pushed the signed papers back, stood, and walked out without looking back. The door clicked shut behind her, a final, hollow sound.

--------------------------------------------------------------

Weeks later, Incheon International Airport was a blur of noise and motion, but Y/N moved through it like a ghost. Her hoodie was pulled low over her face, a baseball cap shielding her eyes. A single suitcase trailed behind her—everything she’d chosen to take from a life she was leaving behind. Her parents had arranged it all: a flight to somewhere far, somewhere quiet, somewhere she could vanish. They’d promised to handle the boys after the announcement, to soften the blow. But Y/N knew there’d be no softening this.

She hadn’t said goodbye. Her phone, now off and buried in her bag, had been silent for days—no replies to the boys’ texts, no answers to their calls. She’d stopped opening her door when they knocked, their voices muffled through the wood: “Y/N, please, just talk to us.” She’d sat against it once, listening to Mingyu beg, his voice cracking, until he gave up and left. It had broken her heart all over again, but she couldn’t face them. Not when she’d already decided.

The boarding call crackled over the speakers, and she handed her ticket to the agent with numb fingers. As she stepped onto the plane, the weight of it hit her—she was leaving them. Her brothers. Her family. The only people who’d ever truly seen her. A sob caught in her throat, but she swallowed it down, sinking into her seat by the window. The runway blurred outside as the plane taxied, and she pressed her forehead to the glass, whispering, “I’m sorry,” to no one but herself.

--------------------------------------------------------------

The Seventeen practice room was alive with its usual chaos—Hoshi sprawled on the floor, panting after a run-through; Vernon scrolling through his phone; Seungkwan bickering with DK over a water bottle. It was break time, a rare moment of calm amidst their grueling schedule. The mirrors reflected thirteen tired but familiar faces, a unit unbroken—until now.

Seungcheol’s phone buzzed on the bench, and he glanced at it, frowning. “What the hell…?” His voice trailed off, and the room stilled as his expression darkened.

“What’s up, hyung?” Dino asked, sitting up from where he’d been stretching.

Seungcheol didn’t answer. He held up his phone, the screen displaying a news alert from HYBE: “Official Statement: Y/N to Depart SEVENTEEN Effective Immediately.”

The air sucked out of the room. Vernon dropped his phone, the clatter deafening in the silence. “What?” he breathed, scrambling to his feet.

“No way,” Mingyu said, voice shaking as he grabbed Seungcheol’s phone. “This is fake. It’s gotta be fake.”

Jeonghan snatched it from him, his eyes scanning the words, growing wider with every line. “Due to personal reasons… mutual agreement… effective immediately…” His voice faltered, and he looked up, pale. “She’s gone.”

“Gone?” Hoshi shot up, his laugh disbelieving. “She can’t be gone. She’s on hiatus, not—she wouldn’t just leave us!”

Seungkwan’s hands shook as he pulled out his own phone, opening the statement. “It’s real,” he whispered, tears already welling up. “It’s on the official site. She… she left.”

The door burst open, and their manager, Joonho, stepped in, his face grim. The boys turned to him, a chorus of desperate voices erupting.

“Is it true?” Joshua demanded, his usual calm shattered. “Did she leave?”

Joonho nodded slowly, avoiding their eyes. “It’s true. She made the decision weeks ago. Signed the papers and everything.”

“Weeks?!” Wonwoo’s voice cracked, raw and furious. “And you didn’t tell us? She didn’t tell us?”

“She asked us not to,” Joonho said, his tone heavy. “She didn’t want you to know until it was done. Said you’d stop her.”

“Of course we’d stop her!” Seungcheol roared, slamming his fist against the wall. The sound reverberated, and the others flinched. “She’s our maknae! She’s family! You don’t just—how could you let her do this?”

“She was breaking, Cheol,” Joonho said quietly. “She didn’t want you to see her like that.”

DK sank to the floor, hands in his hair. “We could’ve helped her. We were helping her. Why didn’t she trust us?”

“She didn’t want to burden you,” Joonho replied, but the words only fueled their anguish.

“Burden us?” Mingyu’s voice broke into a sob. “She was never a burden! She was ours—our Y/N!”

Vernon paced, tears streaming down his face. “We should’ve known. We should’ve gone to her more, forced her to talk—”

“We tried!” Jun snapped, his voice hoarse. “She wouldn’t let us in! She kept saying she was fine, and now she’s just… gone?”

Seungkwan dialed her number, hands trembling. It didn’t ring—just dead silence. “Her phone’s off,” he choked out, dropping it. “She’s really gone.”

“Let’s go to her place,” Dino said suddenly, standing. “She’s gotta be there. She wouldn’t leave without saying anything.”

They piled into vans, a frantic, tear-streaked mess, ignoring Joonho’s protests. The drive to her apartment was suffocating, the silence broken only by muffled sobs and the occasional, “She wouldn’t do this.” But when they arrived, the door was locked, the lights off. Mingyu pounded on it anyway, shouting, “Y/N! Open the door! Please!”

No answer. A neighbor poked her head out, frowning. “She’s not there. Moved out days ago.”

“Days?” Jeonghan echoed, his voice hollow. “She’s been gone for days, and we didn’t know?”

They drove to her parents’ house next, a last desperate hope. Her mother answered, her face etched with sorrow. “She’s not here,” she said softly, tears in her eyes. “She left the country. She needed to get away.”

“Away?” Seungcheol’s voice was barely audible, broken. “She left us?”

“She didn’t want to hurt you,” her mother whispered. “She thought this was the only way. She’ll come back when she’s ready… when she’s okay.”

“When she’s okay?” Hoshi laughed, a bitter, broken sound. “She left us, and we didn’t even get to say goodbye! How are we supposed to be okay?”

Her mother flinched, but she had no answer. The boys stood there, thirteen shattered pieces of a whole that no longer existed.

“She didn’t even say goodbye,” Joshua murmured, staring at the ground as tears mixed with the rain on his face. “Nine years… and she’s just gone.”

Seungkwan sank to his knees on the wet pavement, sobbing. “We were supposed to be fourteen forever.”

But they weren’t. Y/N was gone, and the silence she left behind was louder than any hate she’d ever faced.

--------------------------------------------------------------

The air in London had been crisp and unfamiliar, a stark contrast to the humid chaos of Seoul. For nearly a year, Y/N had lived there, tucked away in a small flat with a view of the Thames. No one knew where she was except her parents—not the boys, not the company, not the fans who’d once hounded her every move. Her social media accounts sat dormant, frozen in time since that last post: a blurry photo of her hand holding a coffee cup, captioned “Taking a breath.” She hadn’t touched her phone for anything beyond calls to her family. The hate comments, the wreaths, the venom—they were a distant memory she refused to revisit.

She’d seen the boys once, though—on a grainy livestream of an award show, months after she’d left. Seventeen had won Album of the Year, and Seungcheol had taken the mic, his voice steady but thick with something unspoken. “We didn’t fall because of anyone,” he’d said, eyes glistening. “We’re still standing because of love—because of family. We miss… that chaos, you know? And we’re not mad. Never will be.” Jeonghan had added, softer, “We hope you’re smiling, wherever you are.” They hadn’t said her name, but she’d known. It was for her. Her chest had tightened, tears spilling silently down her cheeks as she’d turned off the screen. But she didn’t call. She didn’t text. She just sat there, alone, letting the silence swallow her.

Now, after eleven months abroad, she could breathe again. The weight that had crushed her in Korea had lifted, bit by bit. She could smile—not the forced grins of survival, but the real ones, the ones that crinkled her eyes like they used to. She’d called her father last week, her voice steady for the first time in years. “I’m ready to come back,” she’d said. “But not to Seventeen. To me. I want to try… solo.”

He’d paused, then sighed—a sound of relief, not disappointment. “Whatever you need, Y/N. We’ll make it happen.”

--------------------------------------------------------------

She’d been back in Korea for three months now, living in a quiet apartment on the outskirts of Seoul. The HYBE building hummed with activity, but she rarely crossed paths with anyone she knew. Seventeen was on their world tour, their schedules a whirlwind of planes and stages halfway across the globe. She’d heard their new album through the walls of a practice room once—Hoshi’s laughter in the background of a track, Mingyu’s warm vocals weaving through the melody. It had stopped her cold, her hand trembling on the doorknob. But she’d walked away.

Her days were full now. She spent hours in the recording booth, her voice finding its footing again—stronger, clearer, hers. The studio smelled of coffee and warm electronics, a sanctuary where she could be Y/N, not “the founder’s daughter” or “Seventeen’s mistake.” She practiced choreography until her legs shook, the mirrors reflecting a woman reclaiming herself. The music video shoot had been grueling—twelve hours under blinding lights, her hair streaked with silver dye, her eyes fierce in a way they hadn’t been before. The photoshoot proofs sat on her desk now: Y/N in a leather jacket, staring down the lens, unapologetic. She wasn’t just surviving anymore. She was building something new.

“I’m not here because of anyone else,” she’d told her producer, a steely edge to her voice as they reviewed tracks. “I’m here because I can do this. I will do this.”

He’d nodded, a small smile tugging at his lips. “I believe you.”

--------------------------------------------------------------

The tour bus rumbled through a foreign city—Chicago, maybe, or Toronto; the boys had lost track. The air inside was thick with exhaustion, the kind that settled into your bones after months on the road. Seventeen sprawled across the seats, a tangle of limbs and quiet murmurs. A year ago, this bus would’ve been louder—Y/N’s voice cutting through the chaos, teasing DK about his snoring or roping Vernon into a prank on Woozi. Now, it was just thirteen.

Seungcheol stared out the window, his reflection pale against the night. “It’s almost a year,” he said suddenly, his voice low, almost lost in the hum of the engine.

The others looked up, the weight of his words sinking in. Mingyu rubbed his eyes, his usual brightness dimmed. “Yeah. Anniversary’s next month. Supposed to be ten years with her.”

“Ten years,” Jeonghan echoed, leaning his head back against the seat. His fingers toyed with a bracelet Y/N had made him once—beads spelling out “Hannie” in her messy handwriting. “Feels wrong without her.”

Hoshi shifted, pulling his knees up. “I keep thinking she’ll just… show up. Like, burst through the door with that stupid grin, saying, ‘Miss me?’” He laughed, but it broke into a shaky breath. “She doesn’t even know how much we miss her.”

“She knows,” Joshua said quietly, his voice steady but his eyes distant. “She saw that speech. She’s gotta know.”

“Then why hasn’t she called?” Dino asked, his voice small, almost childlike. He’d been the closest to her age, her partner in maknae mischief. “Not once. Not a text. Nothing.”

Minghao sighed, pushing his cap down over his eyes. “Because she’s healing. We can’t force her back.”

“But we’re her family,” Seungkwan said, his voice cracking. He clutched a photo on his phone—a blurry shot of Y/N laughing at him during a concert, her hair a mess. “She’s our only sister. Our maknae. Even if she’s not here, she always will be.”

Vernon nodded, his jaw tight. “I get why she left. I do. That hate… it was eating her alive. But it still hurts, you know? Like there’s this hole now.”

DK wiped at his eyes, trying to smile. “I miss her complaining. She’d whine about my singing being too loud, then hug me five seconds later. I’d take all her pranks again if it meant she’d just… talk to us.”

Seungcheol turned from the window, his expression hard but his eyes soft with unshed tears. “We can’t change it. It’s done. She’s gone, and we’ve gotta live with that. But if she ever comes back—solo, whatever—I’ll be the first in line to support her. Always.”

They all murmured agreement, a quiet pact forged in the ache of her absence. They’d accepted it, as much as they could—understood the hell she’d endured, the choice she’d made. But acceptance didn’t fill the void. They missed her chaos, her laugh, the way she’d flop onto the couch after practice and demand they order food. They missed her. And they didn’t know if they’d ever get her back.

--------------------------------------------------------------

Y/N stood in the recording booth, headphones snug over her ears, the mic a lifeline. The track played—a slow, haunting ballad she’d written herself, every note dripping with the pain she’d carried and the strength she’d found. She closed her eyes, letting her voice spill out, raw and unbroken.

Somewhere across the world, Seventeen took the stage, thirteen voices rising together, a harmony that still felt incomplete. They didn’t know she was back. She didn’t know they still left a space for her in their hearts. And for now, the silence between them stretched on—a fragile thread, waiting to snap or mend.

--------------------------------------------------------------

an: Hi! Sorry this was late, but I hope you like it, anon, and I hope I got what you requested, hehehe🫶

[scoupsakakitty]

heyy, can you do a Chan x 14thmember where she’s a 97’ liner and he’s always been in love with her but she didn’t want anything romantic with him cause she was afraid of the small age difference.

Idk, he’s kinda jealous that DK is her best friend and when they’re arguing he calls her by her name and she gets angry he’s not using honorifics.with a lot of angst but with a happy ending

♡

Say My Name | idol!Dino x 14thMember | angst, fluff

"Yah, you should've seen your face!" Seokmin wheezed, barely able to stand from laughing so hard.

Y/N groaned, pushing his shoulder. "It wasn't that funny."

"Oh, it was," he countered, wiping at his eyes. "Come on, Chan, back me up!"

Chan sat across the room, arms crossed, jaw tight. He was watching them—always watching them. Seokmin's arm slung around Y/N's shoulder like it belonged there, the way she laughed at everything he said, the way her eyes softened whenever he pulled one of his ridiculous antics.

He hated it.

"Dino?" Seokmin called out, his voice teasing. "Are you sulking again?"

"I'm not sulking," Chan muttered, standing up abruptly. "I just don't find it funny."

Y/N frowned. "Are you okay?"

"Why do you care, Y/N?" he snapped, shocking them both.

The room tensed. Seokmin blinked between them, before muttering, "Uh, I'm just gonna… go." He slipped out, leaving only silence behind.

Y/N sighed. "What’s wrong with you lately? You’re always so tense."

"I should be asking you that," he shot back. "Why do you act like I don’t exist unless Seokmin’s not around?"

She folded her arms. "Don’t be ridiculous."

"Ridiculous? Y/N, do you even realize how long I’ve—" He stopped himself, shaking his head. "Never mind."

She frowned. "Say it."

"I’ve been in love with you for years!" he finally burst out, his voice breaking with frustration. "And you—you act like it’s impossible! Like I’m a kid to you or something. But I’m not, Y/N."

Silence. Thick. Unmovable.

Her mouth opened, then closed again, hesitation flickering across her face. Chan scoffed, stepping back. "See? There it is. You won’t even acknowledge it."

"Chan, it’s not—"

"Oh, now I’m just Chan? Not 'Dino'? Not 'maknae'?" he interrupted bitterly. "You never say my name like that unless you’re mad."

Her breath hitched, eyes widening. "You didn’t use honorifics."

"So what?" he shot back. "You’re not just my sunbae. You’re Y/N. And I’m Chan. Why do we have to act like there’s some huge gap between us when there isn’t?"

She swallowed hard, looking away. "It’s not just that."

"Then tell me what it is! Because I’ve spent years trying to figure it out, and all you do is push me away!"

"Because I’m scared!" she snapped, her voice finally breaking. "Scared that if we cross this line, everything will change! That it’ll be different and—"

"And what?" he demanded. "You’ll actually have to admit you feel the same way?"

Silence again.

Chan stepped closer, his voice quieter now, but still firm. "I know you do. Maybe it scares you, but you don’t get to pretend like I’m imagining things."

Y/N swallowed hard, eyes darting to the floor.

"I just—" she exhaled shakily. "I didn’t want to lose you."

His shoulders relaxed slightly. "You won’t."

She finally met his gaze, and for the first time, she didn’t look away.

It was terrifying. And exhilarating.

Chan smiled—just a little, just enough. "Say my name, Y/N."

A pause.

Then, soft as a whisper: "Chan."

And just like that, the wall between them crumbled.

He smirked slightly, stepping even closer, his voice low. "You’re mine now."

Y/N felt her heart skip a beat, but for once, she didn’t run. She just smiled back. "Yeah… I guess I am."

[zeroseuniverse]

Sanctuary

Word Count: 1.5K Summary: Minghao leaned back on his elbows, his usual composed expression softened by a rare smile. “You held your own,” he told Dino, his voice laced with quiet approval. Dino peeked out from under his arm, grinning. “Really?” “Don’t let it go to your head,” she interrupted, chuckling as she tossed him a towel. Pairing: Minghao X Fem Reader X Dino

Disclaimer: Please be aware that this is apart of the from the ashes series. This series will have aspects of violence, weapons, angst, blood, injuries, killing, and will heavily focus on oppression and segregation of mutants, Look after your mental state if any of these make you uncomfortable please.

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The sparring room hummed with quiet anticipation. Fluorescent lights cast a stark glow over the matted floor, illuminating every scuff and crack—a testament to countless hours of grueling training. She adjusted the wraps around her hands, flexing her fingers and feeling the stretch of the fabric tighten against her skin.

Her eyes flicked to the far corner of the room where Dino was warming up, stretching with the energy of someone who hadn’t stopped moving since the day he learned to walk. He caught her watching and grinned, his youthful charm as infectious as ever.

“Don’t look so serious,” he teased, rolling his shoulders. “You’re not backing out already, are you?”

“Backing out?” she shot back, a playful smirk tugging at her lips. “I was just wondering if I should go easy on you today. Wouldn’t want to bruise that fragile ego of yours.”

“Fragile?!” Dino scoffed, standing upright and pointing a dramatic finger her way. “You’re the one who begged for a rematch after last time.”

She chuckled, stepping onto the mat. “You mean after I wiped the floor with you? Sure, let’s call it that.”

Before Dino could retort, the door to the gym slid open with a soft hiss. Minghao stepped inside, his posture casual but his presence commanding. As always, his movements were precise, deliberate—like he was walking into a chess game where he already knew the outcome.

“Am I interrupting?” Minghao asked, his calm voice carrying just a hint of amusement.

“Not at all,” she replied, tying off her wraps with a sharp tug. “Just giving Dino a confidence boost before we start.”

Dino groaned loudly, throwing his head back. “Why do I even bother with you two?”

Minghao smirked faintly, shrugging off his jacket to reveal his lean, powerful frame. “Because you know we’ll make you better,” he said simply, stepping onto the mat.

She tilted her head, arching an eyebrow at him. “Oh, is that what this is? A charity case?”

Minghao’s lips quirked upward. “If the shoe fits.”

Dino’s loud protest was drowned out by her laughter, the sound ringing through the room like a bell.

The sparring match began like clockwork, each of them falling into the familiar rhythm they’d honed during their academy days. Minghao moved with surgical precision, his strikes calculated and efficient. Dino countered with raw energy and speed, his movements unpredictable but undeniably effective.

And her?—she was the storm in the middle of it all, adapting to every shift in momentum, every feint and strike, her sharp eyes never missing a beat.

“Is that all you’ve got, Hao?” she taunted, ducking under one of his blows and landing a swift kick to his side.

Minghao staggered back slightly, his dark eyes narrowing. “You’ve gotten better,” he admitted, resetting his stance.

“I’ve always been better,” she quipped, her grin mischievous.

Dino darted in from the side, trying to catch her off guard. She sidestepped easily, spinning to land an elbow near his ribs.

“You’re predictable,” she teased, stepping back before he could retaliate.

“And you’re annoying,” Dino huffed, though the grin on his face betrayed his enjoyment.

Minghao seized the moment to sweep her legs out from under her, and she landed with a thud, glaring up at him.

“Focus,” he said simply, extending a hand to help her up.

“Cheap shot,” she muttered, taking his hand and springing to her feet.

“Effective,” he countered.

Their banter continued as the match wore on, the trio pushing each other to their limits while exchanging quips and jabs.

When the timer finally buzzed, signaling the end, all three collapsed onto the mats, breathless and laughing.

“Okay,” Dino panted, throwing an arm over his face. “I’ll admit it… you two might have an edge on me today.”

“Might?” she echoed, raising an eyebrow as she grabbed a water bottle. “Pretty sure we wiped the floor with you, bud.”

Minghao leaned back on his elbows, his usual composed expression softened by a rare smile. “You held your own,” he told Dino, his voice laced with quiet approval.

Dino peeked out from under his arm, grinning. “Really?”

“Don’t let it go to your head,” she interrupted, chuckling as she tossed him a towel.

The three of them sat there for a moment, the hum of the gym’s lights filling the silence. It felt like old times—like they were back at the academy, untouchable and unstoppable.

But the world outside the gym was different now, harsher and less forgiving. This was their sanctuary, their reminder of what they fought for.

And as long as they had each other, they knew they’d be ready for whatever came next.

The sparring room faded into memory as the trio moved on to their respective shifts. Despite their shared moments of camaraderie, life outside their training sessions was anything but easy. The world they lived in demanded resilience, and even the most fleeting reprieve felt like a luxury.

She worked in intelligence, a field that demanded quick thinking and a relentless drive. Her desk was cluttered with encrypted files, half-finished reports, and a cold cup of coffee that she hadn’t touched in hours. Despite the endless stream of data, her mind occasionally wandered back to the sparring session.

A knock on the door pulled her from her thoughts. Dino leaned against the doorframe, holding a small box.

“Lunch,” he said simply, stepping inside and plopping the box onto her desk.

She raised an eyebrow. “Since when do you deliver food?”

“Since Minghao made me promise to check on you,” he admitted with a sheepish grin. “He said you’d probably forget to eat, and I—uh, agreed with him.”

She snorted, shaking her head but opening the box anyway. The aroma of something warm and savory filled the air.

“Thanks, Dino,” she said softly, giving him a small smile.

He shrugged, stuffing his hands into his pockets. “Don’t mention it. Just make sure you actually eat, yeah?”

Minghao’s role as a strategist had him stationed in the command room, pouring over maps and tactical reports. The hum of conversation surrounded him as he worked, but his mind stayed sharp, tuned to every detail.

He paused briefly, glancing at his communicator. A quick message from her lit up the screen:

“Dino’s your little errand boy now? I’m impressed.”

Minghao smirked faintly and typed back: “He volunteered. I think you’re growing on him.”

Her reply was instant: “About time someone appreciates my charm.”

Shaking his head, Minghao allowed himself a small laugh before refocusing. No matter how heavy the day became, those little exchanges reminded him they weren’t alone in this fight.

Out in the field, Dino navigated the labyrinth of the city, his enhanced senses on high alert. His patrol route took him through the heart of the resistance’s territory, where tension always lingered in the air.

He checked in with the locals, exchanging easy banter with those who knew him. Dino’s charm made him a favorite among the resistance members, and he used that to his advantage, gathering intel and lifting spirits in equal measure.

As he finished his route, his communicator buzzed. It was her again.

“When you’re done being a hero, swing by my office. I need a sparring partner who doesn’t fight dirty.”

Dino grinned, shaking his head as he replied: “You sure you want to lose twice in one day?”

By the time their shifts ended, the trio reconvened in the shared quarters they called home—a modest space that served as their sanctuary.

Minghao was the first to arrive, already laying out a makeshift dinner on the low table in the center of the room. Dino stumbled in next, dramatically flopping onto the couch and complaining about his patrol.

“Long day?” she teased as she walked in last, shedding her jacket and joining them.

“You have no idea,” Dino groaned, tossing an arm over his face.

“Let me guess,” Minghao said dryly, sitting cross-legged on the floor. “Someone caught you climbing a wall you weren’t supposed to?”

“That was one time,” Dino protested, sitting up.

She snickered, grabbing a plate of food and sitting next to Minghao. “Sure it was.”

Despite the teasing, the atmosphere was warm, their laughter easing the weight of the day.

As the night wore on, their conversation shifted from lighthearted banter to something deeper.

“I saw some new recruits today,” she said softly, her voice carrying a note of hope. “They’re young, but they’ve got potential.”

“We’ll have to train them carefully,” Minghao replied, his thoughtful tone mirroring her sentiment.

“And remind them to have each other’s backs,” Dino added, leaning forward. “That’s what kept us going back then, right?”

She glanced at both of them, a soft smile tugging at her lips. “It still does.”

In a world that often felt like it was crumbling beneath their feet, the trio found strength in one another. Their bond was unshakable, forged in the fires of hardship and tempered by their shared determination to keep fighting—for each other and for a better future.

And as they sat together, sharing stories and laughter, they knew that no matter what the next day brought, they wouldn’t face it alone.

[007reid]

yay! (honestly don’t stress about the adhd characterisation being perfect)

r cannot stay still during one of the cases and the other officers at the *insert state* station get really frustrated with r's hyperactive tendencies (pacing, humming, fidgeting etc) (possibly a small bit of angst)

and of course because of that we get an overprotective dr reid because he can see that r is trying to mask to appease the officers (he most likely knows the facts and all that jazz about how harmful masking can be)

masking is where we basically try and suppress our actions - ignoring what our brain is telling us to do and trying to act ‘normal’ (it is very exhausting and honestly just sucks - can also lead to mental health issues)

also tysm if you consider this <3

- 🦕 xx

HI DINO ANON!! i imagined glasses reid for this cus he’s the sassiest and spencer is def sassy here. i hope i did it okay, kinda nervous about this one. enjoy!

spencer reid x adhd fem!reader

cases involving children always stresses you out more than usual, and this one is no exception.

hotch is cruel in the way that he requested for you not to join the team. 'request' is actually him being nice. you stood your ground until he demanded you to, and you know he's right, knows why you can't be with the team this time. "you're too shaken up, y/n," hotch had said, firmly, eyes as soft as steel. "you won't benefit the team. just hang tight and keep an eye out, alright?”

penelope had gone back to the hotel but it's hard for you to muster up the will to. you need to hear the news right when the team comes back, need to know what happens to the two siblings held hostage, and the only way to get immediate information once the information comes is to lurk in the louisiana's sheriff department and wait for the inevitable phone call.

one of the assistants were nice enough to hand you a donut with a pink napkin for it to sit on and a coffee, but god forbid you have any caffeine or sugar so you set it deliberately to the side for spencer, who, predictably, comes by a second later and it grabs his attention immediately, pointing to it as if to ask "you want this?" silently. you shake your head. he stuffs the donut into his mouth and takes the coffee with him as he makes to go somewhere else.

you're grateful for spencer, and you wish that you can say something about it but your mouth's clamp shut and you don't remember the last time you've been so nervous on a case. you're no newbie to the bau, you know the procedure and you know the horrific scenes that goes on but it's been a while since there is children involved and it took you for a toll and you don't know how to deal with it.

spencer had insisted staying at the station with you and you know the officers aren’t too pleased about it, having two fbi officers strolling around in their post just because. they can't send you back, but they’re dying too; you can tell it on their disdained faces that they're practically looking for a reason to kick the two of you out.

feeling constrained by standing in the hard, wooden stool, you decide to get up and take a walk around the pace, and a walk turns into just pacing back and forth between these two desks and then humming a little song that’s been stuck in your head, trying to keep your mind distracted and off the possibilities of what could be happening to those innocent kids right now if the team hasn't taken care of everything yet. your eyes stay on the dark green telephone that sits menacingly and quietly in the sheriff's office desk. you don’t pick up the glances directed at you.

“hey, ma’am?” someone speaks up. you pause and whip your head around. you could read the man’s face as legibly as a news magazine. he’s annoyed and fed up, his lips turned at an ugly angle. you feel embarrassment bubble up inside of you. “can you sit down? we have work to take care of.”

first thing that comes to your mind is to talk back. the fuck you know about workload? you want to spit into the man’s face. i’m with the fucking fbi, jackass. you just sit at a fucking computer.

the fierce words don’t come out of you, however. instead, you just feel silly and childish, walking back to the stiff chair you had abandoned earlier and try to make yourself comfortable, mumbling a half-assed “sorry” under your breath.

“no worries, ma’am,” the man says, and it sounds saturated and sarcastic, and you can feel yourself burn a brighter red, ridiculed.

you hide the tremble in your hands by tucking it in the pockets of your fbi issued hoodie and resists your foot from tapping on the floor, looking around anxiously for something to watch.

“does her pacing ‘round a little bit distract you that much?”

spencer suddenly appears right next to you, enough bitterness on his face to give the man a run for his money. he looks strange like this, the innocent, permanently confused frown on his face replaced with a glare, harsh and intense under the gleaming of his glasses.

“yeah, it does, you android,” the man sneers, stopping his typing on the computer. he leans back on his chair. you feel the defensiveness in you rising up at the man’s words. “this place’s for business, not you kids’ playground, kay?”

“kids?” spencer says incredulously, laughing. “kids and we have a say above you as federal workers and you as state. you work under your boss who work under another boss who work under my boss. that’s three tiers, if you got lost along the way. we’re kids and we got more going for us than you ever do,” and spencer says all this so casually, as if he’s informing the man of the littleness of his worth as a fact instead of an insult. it stabs twice as deep and it shows on the man’s face.

“whatever, fucking android,” the man grumbles, continuing to type.

spencer, bless him, can’t seem to keep his mouth shut for to long and spinning around to face you, water in his hand. “here,” he press the bottle to your trembling hand, making you accept it. “don’t do that again, okay?” he says, sternly.

“do what?”

“suppressing it.” he doesn’t need to define what ‘it’ is. you get the memo immediately and look down in shame, biting at your lip. “it makes things worse, okay? you know it does.” he frowns, except his lips jut out in a pout. it’s cute. you guess spencer reid’s a little bit cute. spencer is oblivious to your little revelation as he continues his tangent, without a thought in the world. “masking can lead to anxiety or depression if you feel like you're constantly under too much stress. this isn’t a stress free job, y/n. you can’t keep piling more on top of what you already got,” he says, softly.

“i know,”

“i know you do,”

right then, the phone rings and you nearly trip over spencer’s beat up converses trying to get to the sheriff’s office fast enough. spencer catches you by the hand as you come sending towards the floor and the both of you rush, your hand in his as sheriff brody picks up the phone and press it to his ear.

a beat.

“they’re safe.”

[httqvi]

SYLUS. ꒰ masterlist. ꒱

CATEGORIES: sfw & nsfw oneshots, drabbles, imagines, headcannons, smaus

LABELLING: ‹3 a favorite, 𖥻 shed tears

[ SFW — ONESHOTS ]

jealousy incarnate by chuluoyi

— 3.8k words. 18+ suggestive content, minors do not interact, jealousy, crack, fluff, smut, a dash of comfort, assassin!reader (not l&ds mc).

pretty bird by snowballseal

— 2.1k words. sylus is jealous of you giving mephisto attention. that's it. you tease him when you find out.

little dino ‹3 by starmocha

— 2.5k words. sylus + daughter. sylus has a little dinosaur problem.

[ NSFW — ONESHOTS ]

highest bidder by ramonathinks

— 5.3k words. 18+ virginity loss, soft sex, small plot but not really, pet names, slight? knife play, oral, she/her pronouns, choking, finger sucking, praise, dumbification, degradation, slight fingering, corruption kink( if you squint), female guided masturbation (? kinda? idk!), squirting, attempt at aftercare, the twins have a cameo.

the sin and the sinner. (part 1) ‹3 by saintobio

— 8.2k words. sylus x villain!reader, angst, smut, boss/assistant, 18+, reader works for onychinus, reader is not l&ds!mc, set in the N109 zone, unrequited love, profanity, petnames (kitten, baby doll, darling, sweetie), unprotected sex, throatfucking (m!receiving), cunnilingus (f!receiving), cum-eating, slight dom/sub play, spitting, hair-pulling, spanking, biting, choking, overstimulation, bondage, blindfolding, lots of jealousy, possessiveness, yandere themes, stalking, blood, violence, usage of guns, allusions to prostitution, killings, death, *coughs* that one harley+joker scene.

𖥻 the conquered and the conquerer. (part 2) ‹3 by saintobio

— 10.4k words. sylus x villain!reader, angst, smut, boss/assistant, 18+, villain!reader, reader previously works for onychinus, reader is not l&ds!mc, sylus is a little ooc, main story spoilers, melodic weave spoilers, lots of timeskip, fast-paced, lore heavy, unrequited love, profanity, petnames (kitten, sweetie), explicit smut, cunnilingus (f!receiving), unprotected sex, creampie, espionage, reader smoking, reckless driving, violence, spitting, choking, jealousy, usage of guns, suicide (or attempts thereof), death, and a twist in the end i can’t reveal.

𖥻 the loved and the lost. (part 3) ‹3 by saintobio

— 9.5k words. sylus x villain!reader, angst, smut, boss/assistant, 18+, sylus's pov, reader is not l&ds!mc, sylus might be ooc, main story spoilers, razor's dance spoilers, nightplumes spoilers, lots of timeskip, fast-paced, unrequited love, profanity, petnames (kitten, sweetie), espionage, jealousy, brief smut, mentions of pregnancy/impregnation kink, mentions of accidents, suicide attempt, injuries, blood, usage of guns, usage of knife, killings, death, my own theories incorporated into the lore, sylus groveling bcos yall want him to.

a practical demonstration by janumun

— 9.8k words. sylus x f!reader, size difference, oral and vaginal sex, vaginal fingering, rough sex, mild mentions of stalking (not sylus or mephisto for once lol), inexperienced (not virgin) reader, edging, drinking, [im]proper use of evol, explicit sexual content.

red tape by sugartheplum

— 8.8k words. mma fighter!sylus x manager!reader, nsfw (18+) - mdni!!, modern au, smut, vaginal fingering, kissing, dirty talk, oral sex - m! and f!receiving, praise kink, p in v, masturbation, size difference, size kink, mild choking.

[ IMAGINES & DRABBLES ]

— 08/02/24; 11:33pm by jinwoosungs (nsfw)

— cockwarming you by takeaslicex (nsfw)

— fluffy pjs by mrs-kurooo (sfw, fluff)

— sleepy affection by snowballseal (sfw, fluff)

— bane of existence by chuluoyi (sfw, suggestive)

— more than luxury by connorsui (sfw, fluff)

— stargazing in your eyes by connorsui (sfw, fluff)

— emotional support by sushiyuzu (sfw, fluff)

[ HEADCANNONS ]

— how clingy sylus copes with your absence by matsunolvr (sfw, fluff)

— ex-husband!sylus ‹3 by plutotheplum (nsfw)

[ SMAUS ]

© httqvi, 2024.