#photo walk global

[kvetch19]

[andfinallywecansee]

Bloodsuckers draining our earth

[nikonstudio]

Promises Kept - Nikon Studio Global Photo Walk 2023 #3 - Hong Kong

With that said, I hope to catch up, shoot out and simply get lost in the economy-stricken economy I once love. Nothing fancy, just a week of meeting friends and families while hoping to set foot there once again after four long years of absence.

Let’s see how it turns out as I bring you fresh imageries of the battled city of China. It may surprise all of us!

Stay tune for fresh images as DxO Photo Lab 6 just got loaded on my laptop...finally!

[batshit-auspol]

I really enjoy this blog so much. Gimme your most favorite batshit auspolitics moment from the 2000s to 2010s. please. i am morbidly curious.

2007: The APEC conference, where all global leaders converge in one city to pretend like they're doing things, is to be held in Sydney, Australia. With the war on terror in full swing, security is at a maximum, and large swathes of the city are placed behind a giant multi-layered steel fence to keep the world leaders far away from the unwashed masses.

Attempting to ward off trouble, organisers of the conference hold a meeting with notorious political comedy prank group "The Chaser", to tell them they are, under absolutely no circumstances getting anywhere near any world leaders, and to not even bother trying.

"The whole perimeter is secure," security forces told them sternly. "The only thing getting through that fence is a motorcade."

24 hours later The Chaser were on their way towards the fence with a motorcade.

Now a few things should have tipped off security guards that this fake Canadian motorcade was not a the real deal. Number one: Canada wasn't at the conference, number two: no country has actually had security running alongside cars since the 60s, and three: most security guards don't carry video cameras with them or passes that read "this is fake".

Nevertheless the ruse was more successful than anyone had anticipated, and The Chaser team were happily waved into the most secure area on planet earth by police, who informed the incognito comedians that "the road is yours."

Reaching the outside of George Bush's hotel, the pranksters now began to worry that they were never going to be stopped by police and decided to get out of the car and walk back to the fence.

While dressed as Osama Bin Laden.

At this point all hell broke loose. Snipers were locked on. Confused police scrambled, and immediately arrested the whole group, only breathing a sigh of relief when they saw the words "Chaser" on the fake security passes.

Bizarrely the police opted to give a full escort to the guy dressed in a suit, and allowed the other man cosplaying as the world's most wanted terrorist to just casually walk out on his own before booking him at the perimeter.

The Chaser team said that while being put in a cell overnight wasn't fun, they were less stressed after police started visiting to ask for photos and signatures.

The prank group were later hauled before the courts and threatened with a massive fine, but the case was eventually dropped after they successfully argued that it's not technically breaking-in if the cops happily wave you into a high security zone.

Needless to say they have changed that law for future APECs.

Making light of the situation, the prank group also returned to the site a few days later dressed as carboard cars, to see just how flimsy a disguise could get past police.

This time at least, they were not let in.

[biteyoubiteme]

cat got your tongue?

yeonjun x fem!reader

synopsis: you and yeonjun are both models.

warnings: 🔞!!! spit kink if you squint, no protection, creampie, dom!yeonjun, manhandling, bondage (uses his tie on readers wrists), fingering, oral (f!rec),mentions of cum eating prob forgot some sorry

wc: 2.7k me when I lie and say these will all be 1-2k

an: I do not think this is my best work I think I just struggle with dom!member and I apologize lol this wasnt really requested but was taken as such ily @apeachty this was sent before the event post but on the same day so im adding it to the tag anyways lol this is not proof read forgive me sweet angels ill fall on my sword for you.

[m.list] [1kevent m.list]

You would have to spend over a month traveling together. Over a month of back and forth, car rides, flights, hotel rooms, runways, and photo shoots all while trying to deny dating rumors. The contract was easy enough, but the money earned was less impressive than the exposer. To be the face of a company for an entire season, tied to one of the biggest names in modeling history, not only the fashion house but the model himself who set trends and made people famous for one little interaction. It was a brand deal people dreamed of. 

The pen cleared the signature box faster than you ever thought you could sign your name. But then the nerves set in. It wasn't over doing your job, modeling, although hard, was now second nature. You worked well with almost every photographer you came across, following instructions without a fret, even when it came to runway you knew your walk was one companies begged to have on their sets. 

But it was him that left you questioning your abilities. He had been the only clause in the contract that made you second guess yourself. Yeonjun was well known not only in the modeling community itself but globally. His face was splashed across countless brands, ads, and billboards. You couldn't go a day without seeing him at least once on your timeline. Even at the grocery store, in line at the checkout, he looked back at you with his perfect pouty lips from the front of a magazine you could only dream of being on the cover of as often as he was. 

“You were specifically asked for,” your agent reminded you after you brought up the status difference. It wasn't as if you were not known, companies wanted you well enough that you wouldn't need the check from this single one month booking. It was the caliber at which he was held. “They want you and I wouldn't be the one to turn them away when this much press will be on you. Imagine the number of people calling to get one shoot in with you, he brings eyes,” 

It wasn't until your first photoshoot that you realized that he would be more of a pain in your ass than an inspiration. He was never mean, you would have to give him that. But it was his overwhelming kindness mixed with the teasing tone he always used on you that somehow pushed your buttons just right. It didn't help that the first time that you walked into the studio you were so shy, little smiles shared with your hands folded in front of you trying to wring out your anxiety. Yeonjun wasn't even on set yet, having shown up a few minutes later with his arms full of coffee, passing them out to each staff member, knowing them all by name. “It's nice to meet you finally. I didn't know what you would like but this is what I picked out for the little mouse,” 

“Little mouse?” it was the first thing you said to him, your head tilted just enough for him to take in the question and know the slip up of a nickname was going to stick especially when you couldn't get through the photoshoot without an apology. Shoulders stiff with his eyes on you, your nerves making you angry instead of anxious and it all had to do with the little grin set at the edge of yeonjun mouth. “I'll just step out,” and you hated how improved your film was from his absence, your heart calming down its rapt beading. 

Of course you got over it eventually, or at least the stiffness. You couldn't afford to be stiff when standing next to yeonjun who was naturally relaxed about everything. He would slink to his spot on set, lay his lazy gaze in your direction, and get all of his shots in the minimal amount of frames as if he was born to be in front of the camera. It was annoying. 

The two of you would be set up next to each other in hair and makeup, your bottom lip is finely brushed with the end of a glosses wand when he would lean on the back of your chair. His hands were always just hovering over your shoulders, never quite touching but enough to feel the heat from his palms, his head leaning next to yours looking back at you in the mirror, “You guys did such a good job, don't we just look like the perfect pair?” he would quirk an eyebrow at you, the two of you staring each other down while the staff agreed, but he was always waiting for your answer, “don't we little mouse?” 

“If you think so,” your response always made him chuckle as if you didn't see the way the media was talking about your contract together, as if you didn't feel the chemistry between the two of you. People were still talking about your first runway together, the closing of the show for one of the best collections put on display that week. 

The lead up was so chaotic, with dressing rooms stacked full of models and assistants, the floor a mess of people undressing and trying to make their quick changes as fast as they could before their names were called. Even yeonjun could feel the pressure in the room, the two of you in your designated corner stripping down back to back. 

The crowded space made everyone bump into each other. For the smallest second you were caught by the sight of him taking his shirt off, pulling it at the back of his collar showing the way his jeans hung so low on his hips that his happy trail was on display. You had turned, taking off your shirt, shoulder knocked by someone coming to do your hair, it made you stumble back into yeonjun, his hand right at the small of your back holding you upright as you fumbled with the zipper on your pants. “Careful,” he muttered, your heart in your ears as you kicked your shoes away from your space. 

The two of you were used to seeing each other in different versions of undress after all the photoshoots shared together. Comfortable enough now to be somewhat friends after all the car rides, the few interviews, and hours spent on a set together. It's what you accounted for as your key element to having such a good walk together on the runway. Every step matched, the energy vibrating off the two of you as if you had been a duo your whole life instead of just having been paired together less than a month ago. 

Even at the afterparty people swarmed you two, asking about your relationship as if they could sense the livewire of that conversation hanging around your heads. It was the first time you had ever seen him flustered enough to stutter over an answer. “I um- you never know,” 

The paparazzi loved the two of you, the crowd outside any event was packed full of them, their cameras following you around the city. The two of you always shared a car to your hotels, yeonjuns hand warm in yours leading you through the flash of every blinding light while you tried to shield your eyes. He would pull you in front of him when you finally reached the waiting car door, hand on your back gilding you in before climbing in after. 

Even shutting the door behind the two of you only muffled the sounds of their questions to a faint murmur. It isn't until the car pulls away from the venue that yeonjun speaks up. 

“You did well tonight, you looked…” 

“Good, I hope,” 

“You always look good, better than good, i was trying to come up with a different adjective,” it wasn't the first time he's complimented you, but it never stopped you from logging it away to giggle over it in private. “Sometimes I don't know what to say to you,” 

You chuckle, “I never took you as shy,” 

Strands of his hair hang in his eyes, head tilted just enough to catch what little light makes it in from the tinted windows, “no, not shy, just cautious,” 

“What, afraid you'll break me? Hurt my feelings? Or maybe my ego will get too big,” 

He lets out a soft breathy laugh, the sound taking up the space in the backseat. You loved the way his chuckles went down your spine, like a caress of his fingers on the skin you wished he touched. “You’d let me get close enough to break you?” 

“I don't think you could,” it's a light jab and yet it sets everything off kelter. The car ride charged with an energy you couldn't get back into its box. Now opened, the two of you looked back at each other as if you hadn't felt this pot simmering over. 

His eyes flickered down to your mouth, his tongue running over his bottom lip before he shrugged, “Okay,” he loved that you wanted to play this game with him, as if you hadn't always been slowly picking away at the short wall between you two. It was inevitable that you would end up pressed up against the mirrored walls in the elevator up to your hotel floor. 

He wasn't even going to do anything, he was going to let you go to your room while he mulled over your conversation, picturing exactly what he wanted to do to you. But then you leaned back against those mirrors, your body reflected around him as the doors slid closed behind him. Your eyes traced the line of him, lashes hooded just enough for you to look through, like a siren on the rocks, beckoning him closer. You didn't stop him when he cupped your jaw, thumb running over your bottom lip, nose dipping to yours. Even when he gave you enough time to pull away, lips ghosting over yours when he asked, “You'll be good for me, won't you?” 

Your answer is hummed right into his mouth when he kisses you, devouring you, pushing you into the corner giving you nowhere to go. His body is hot against yours, cageing you in as he kisses down your jaw, sloppy wet spots cooling in the air as he nips at your neck. “God, imagine them having to cover up all the marks I leave on you during tomorrow's shoot,” his hand is heavy on your hip, dragging down you cup your cunt over your jeans, “Everyone is going to know I fucking ruined this pussy for anyone but me,” 

Your whimper is eaten by the sound of the doors opening behind him, your tight grip on his shirt not loosening when he drags you out after him. He pushes you to his bed when you get past the threshold of his door. His slow walk to the nightstand to flick on the light gives you enough time to think about exactly what's happening. 

He loosens his tie, veiny hands curled around the fabric as he nods his chin in your direction, “Take your clothes off,” it was only a few hours ago when he saw you topless, and yet your fingers shake when you reach for your hem. “Don't be shy now little mouse, always all talk and no play,” 

The heat on your cheeks spreads to your ears at the nickname. Yeonjun takes to matching your state of undress by tossing his tie next to you before unbuttoning his shirt, the outline of him in his pants is mouthwatering. He watches the way you try to speak, hands twisting in the duvet not realizing he's come up so close to you before he's hooked his hand on your chin, tilting your head up before slipping his thumb into your mouth and pressing down on your tongue. He swirls the digit around, grinning at how willing you are to follow his command even without words, “one day ill fuck this pretty mouth, but for now, I need you on your hands and knees for me,” he shoves your face away, putting his slick finger in his mouth to taste you. 

Turning around and having him at your back is both chilling and exhilarating, not knowing when he's going to touch you until his hands are sliding up your back, unhooking your bra, and letting it fall off of you. He lets his hand press between your shoulder blades, pushing down hard enough for your arms to give way beneath you, the side of your face pressed into the sheets. “Every photoshoot I kept thinking about what it would be like to finally get you into my bed, I kept thinking about how I would finally fuck you, how exactly I could use your body,” 

His hands slide down your arms, tugging them behind you until you whimper, the silky material of his tie sliding along your fingers as he wraps up your wrists to keep you in place. “And every time I just came right back to thinking about putting you just like this, fucking you dumb; using you like my perfect little toy,” 

With one hand holding your tied wrists his other slips down to tease you over your soaked panties, fingers following the lines of your cunt like he was made to map you out by touch. You can't even form words and he hasn't done anything, your pathetic little whimpers pushing him further and further. “So quiet now, I wonder if it's because someone's scared I'll break her?” 

“Please,” it's so soft you don't think he's even heard you, but he's aching for every little sound. 

“Please what? What do you want me to do?” he pushes your panties aside, grinning at how wet you've gotten over so little. Your hips push back into his hand, his fingers slipping into you just enough to prep you for the stretch of taking him. 

“Fuck me, break me, anything-” he's so quick to press his cock into you that you're gasping losing all thoughts. His fingers had done little to let you grasp the sheer size of him, even all your slick couldn't help that pleasure mixed with pain as his tip kissed your cervix. 

He doesn't even hold off from moving, not once he's finally felt your warm gummy walls sucking him, so perfect he doesn't know how he will ever stop from coming back to you. He keeps one hand on your hip, fingers digging into your flesh, the other wrapped around the slack of his tie, tugging your arms and using them as leverage to keep his harsh pace as he fucks into your greedy cunt. 

You feel so full, so completely stuffed that you're a mess of incoherent moans mixing with the slapping sounds of your connecting bodies. Yeonjun is mesmerized by the way your ass ripples with each slap of his hips; mesmerized by the way his cock is disappearing in and out of you. “So fucking perfect,” he's grunting, “I'm going to fill up and then eat my little mouse out until she screams, kiss your pussy better after taking me so well, does that sound good?” 

“Yes, god yes!” Your voice is muffled by the way you are pressed into the mattress, arms slightly numb as he pummels himself into you, thrusts getting sloppier with the build up of his orgasm. He tells himself that he will pull out but then he's cumming, body shuddering as you clench around him, his rumbling moans following the steady pulse of his leaking cock. 

When he pulls out of you he watches the way the dribbling cream coats your puffy lips. Untying your hands he lets you roll onto your back, slotting himself between your legs and attaching his mouth to your swollen clit. Your fingers still gaining feeling fall to his hair, pulling on the strands and he brings your orgasm back to the surface. The obscene sounds coming from his fingers trying to match his previous pace makes him chuckle, the feeling of his laugh vibrating against your clit. It takes little work for you to tumble into your orgasm when he curls his fingers just right, your body following every command he lays down. 

His hand is covered in your combined cum when he's done with you, the stickiness capturing both of your attention before he shoves them into your waiting mouth.

taglist 🏷: @kissmekissykissme @bts-txt-ateez @apeachty @seungfl0wer @lunesdesire want to be added to the taglist? check out my rules to see how to join! want to be taken off the taglist? send an ask!

[jihyoruri]

❚ ❚ ❚ ❚ ❚ ❚ ❚ ❚ GIRL, SO CONFUSING kim chaewon x reader

❀ ͘ ⴰ previous chapters | richgirl ⭢ that girl (she’s delicious) ⭢ idon’t smoke ⭢ pretty when you cry ⭢ homesick ⭢ super rich kids

↳ warnings richgirl!yn, angst (yn is still at home), family dynamics, rich kid things, swearing, chaewon is still chaewon, arguing, guilt lots of it, backstory’s, chaewon being an instigator, not from yn’s perspective this time, mentions of ed & weight

what just happened?

the only words running through yunjin’s mind. she couldn’t keep her eyes off yn, who was trying her best to look fine, but yunjin saw right through it. had yn always looked like this?

she trailed behind the rest of the girls as they walked off the field toward the car yn had called for them.

the entire interaction between yn and her mother replayed in her mind like a broken record. she had never seen yn so tense before, yn was always so carefree, like nothing could ruin her mood. but her mother? her mother definitely did.

“lunch?” yn asked, the emotion in her voice hard to pinpoint. “you guys went to lunch without me?”

“honey, it’s not a big deal. don’t be dramatic! we were just celebrating your brother’s achievements just an intimate get together that I planned.”

“right,” yn laughed sarcastically. “i’m always so dramatic, huh?”

her mother ignored yn’s words, stepping back to scan her daughter. “this outfit is cute. it looks good on you. maybe lose a couple more pounds, and it’ll look even better.”

that’s what really got her. yn didn’t seem to notice, but yunjin had been watching her the entire time, through the whole interaction. it kind of scared her how quickly the hurt in yn’s eyes disappeared after her mom’s words. if you hadn’t been paying attention, you’d have missed it entirely.

she had this ugly feeling in her stomach, it was brewing.

“we should get food.” kazuha said as they made their way into the expensive van followed by mumbles of agreement.

"I can have the cooks make something, and you guys can eat in the pool house," yn offered, her voice flat and lacking its usual energy. yunjin frowned, noticing how all day yn seemed to be doing everything she could to keep them from actually going inside her house.

she would take yn as the girl who would love to show off her big childhood home.

“ “you guys?” you’re not hungry?” kazuha asked looking at yn with concern.

“yeah I don’t really have an appetite.”

her mother ignored yn’s words, stepping back to scan her daughter. “this outfit is cute. it looks good on you. maybe lose a couple more pounds, and it’ll look even better.”

yunjin's mind replayed yn's words and then her mothers even as the rest of the girls had moved on from the topic of food. she couldn’t shake it. now that she thought about it, yn never really ate much at the dorms...

that feeling in her stomach was getting worse.

yunjin wasn’t gonna lie and say she was yn’s biggest fan, but to be honest it wasn’t always like that, she never really had any problems with yn when they were preparing for debut it wasn’t until they actually debuted.

“YN OF LESSERAFIM BECOMES GLOBAL BRAND AMBASSADOR OF CHANEL JUST FIVE MONTHS AFTER DEBUT, IT’S REVEALED THAT THE IDOL WAS SEEN AS A MUSE.”

yunjin stared in disbelief at the headline on her phone. yn hadn’t even mentioned this to them. without a second thought, she turned to chaewon, shoving her phone in the leader’s face.

“oh yeah, i saw that earlier,” chaewon said nonchalantly after reading the screen. “that moon family money working overtime, huh?”

“huh?” yunjin blinked, confused. she knew the moon family was a big deal, but would they really pull strings for something like this? yn never talked about her family, much less anything like this.

chaewon smirked, turning her laptop toward yunjin. “i did some digging. chanel is practically a moon family staple.”

yunjin’s eyes widened as she scanned chaewon’s screen. it was filled with photos, yn’s father as a teenager in chanel, her grandfather in chanel, her mother draped in chanel, and even her brothers. But what stood out most were the photos of yn herself. the article showed pictures from her father's press conferences and paparazzi photos starting from when yn was a toddler all the way up to now. in every single one, she was dressed in chanel.

“she’s been wearing it her whole life,” yunjin murmured, piecing it all together.

“yup.” chaewon smiled impressed with herself, “I mean they’ve been wearing it for decades upon decades, why wouldn’t they want the first idol ever from the family to be an ambassador of the brand they love so much.”

yunjin took in chaewon’s words, “oh my…”

“I know right,”. chaewon smirked, “and isn’t it crazy that hybe told us they want us to do things as a group first? but yn is a chanel ambassador, she probably didn’t like the sound of that and pulled daddy into the equation.”

yunjin didn’t want to believe chaewon’s theories but that fact that yn didn’t even tell them about this made it all more believable.

that was practically the beginning of everything. every achievement yn had on her own left yunjin second guessing if it was real, or if it was just the perks of moon money.

yn was, undeniably, the most popular member of the group. she was loved, practically all of south korea had watched her grow up. she had an advantage.

yunjin didn’t like to admit it, but she resented yn a lot. maybe it was chaewon’s words getting to her, but it always seemed like yn never struggled the way the rest of them did. she was praised for everything. when the whole group went through a brutal wave of hate, yn came out of it untouched. it was unfair, her life was perfect.

but after witnessing that interaction, yunjin realized maybe yn’s life wasn’t so perfect after all. she wondered how yn hid it so well. or maybe she hadn’t maybe yunjin had just been too blinded by her resentment to notice.

families in power like the moons were known for not having the best environment, her parents would always bring it, they still did.

“you know when your members grandfather was the head of the family company, they once found yn’s father that was probably about your age passed out in the middle of the road? it was a really big scandal, but everyone forgot about it, I was younger when that happened probably the same age as him but ask your grandparents they’ll tell you all about it.”

“I remember a couple years ago I think your member yn like 12 and she passed out in front of everyone at a press conference, an insider said that the hospital said she hadn’t had any food in her system, again everyone forgot about that, the moon’s perfect image cannot be broken.”

“a couple years ago, maybe four years before you debuted, there was this conference that the whole moon family went to not just your member and her father, mother and siblings like everyone was there, and it was so scary to see, I still feel some type of worry when I see the photo but the whole family looked pale and sick, like they were on their death bed but they still talked and presented perfectly fine, it was so scary and concerning to people that now if you search up the words dead and alive the video and photos will pop up, I remember some people said they think the whole family is on drugs but then an insider said that hospital receives a person from the moon family almost everyday due to them overworking themselves, people don’t know how they’re still alive,”

the last story always sticks out to yunjin she brushed it off when she first heard it but it’s always in the back of her mind when she looks at yn.

because there has been times where yn in the mornings she’d take notice of a hospital bracelet on yn’s wrist, she doesn’t know why she brushed it off but she did.

the feeling in her stomach was getting worse.

all the girls were comfortably lounging in the pool house. there was a tv, so they picked a show to watch

yunjin turned to chaewon, who was sitting beside her. “um, I have a question.”

“yeah?”

“yn’s interaction with her mom was weird, right? like, the weight comment?”

chaewon stared blankly at yunjin. “yeah, it was kind of weird, but that was probably just an off day. it’s normal for moms to mention stuff like that sometimes.”

“but you and I both know yn’s weight is perfectly fine, and it’s not just that and that comment yn said to you about her perfect life after and she seemed so tense, and some of the things her mom said were kind of—”

“okay, yunjin, what is going on? since when did you care about the moon family? they’re a perfectly fine family with all the money and power in the world. if they’re going through a rough patch, they’ll be fine and that comment was just her trying to get under my skin.”

the stories her parents brought up rushed back to her, this didn’t seem like a rough patch this seemed like a lifestyle.

yunjin took a deep breath. “I’m gonna go see where the food is. yn said she was checking on it, but she hasn’t come back.”

“try not to get lost!” chaewon joked.

yunjin couldn’t help but gasp at the sheer size of the moons’ house. this was yn’s childhood home? it was massive, she could definitely get lost here. she was about to turn back, thinking there was no way she’d actually find yn, when she heard her voice. it sounded tense, distressed.

following the sound, she crept closer, the voice leading her toward the kitchen. peering around the wall, she spotted yn, on her knees with her face in her hands, talking to jia, one of the household staff yunjin vaguely remembered.

“and then she brought up my weight again, right in front of everyone,” yn’s voice shook, barely keeping control. “she humiliated me!” she sounded desperate.

yunjin’s eyes widened as she watched yn stand abruptly, snatch a glass from a silver platter meant for the group, and hurl it to the ground, the shatter echoing through the kitchen. jia looked at her with a sad, understanding expression, as if she’d witnessed this scene far too many times.

“jia, I’m not good enough. I’ll never be good enough!” yn’s voice cracked, full of pain. “she planned this whole family lunch without me to celebrate achievements when I’m probably one of the most achieved person in this family as of right now, and now they’re all out shopping together!”

yunjin’s stomach twisted as she watched yn pace, her movements frantic.

“I’ve basically killed myself for that woman. I’ve been starving myself since I was ten ten, jia! I’ve done everything I possibly could just to make her love me, and she just… doesn’t. I’d do anything, anything for her, and it’s never enough.”

yunjin felt frozen, like she’d intruded on something far too personal, but she couldn’t look away. she’d never seen yn like this, stripped raw, unraveling at the seams.

“your mother loves you, miss yn,” jia murmured, reaching out gently. “have some tea, and I’ll bring the food out for your friends.”

“I don’t want tea!” yn shouted, her voice breaking. “and they aren’t my friends! they shouldn’t even be here!” she paused, her face twisting in pain. “she hates me, my own mother hates me, ever since that day.”

“that day wasn’t your fault, yn.”

“but it is! I was trying so hard to please her, and I did the exact opposite. I passed out in front of everyone important to her and dad . I embarrassed the family.” her words were choked, each one like she was tearing herself apart from the inside out.

yunjin’s heart sank. she knew exactly what yn was talking about, a story her own parents had once mentioned in passing.

“that was out of your control, yn. you were just a child.”

the scariest part was that yn wasn’t even crying. she was breaking down, but the tears never came. it was like she’d numbed herself.

yn never cried is something yunjin was starting to take notice of.

“no one is a child in this family jia, we both know that.”

yunjin was so transfixed that she didn’t even notice when jia’s gaze shifted, her eyes widening in alarm. yn turned around, following her gaze, only to meet yunjin’s shocked stare.

“what are you doing in here?”

yunjin flinched as she looked up to see yn walking toward her, fury blazing in her eyes. “I–”

“you shouldn’t be in here. is anyone else in here?”

“no, I was just wondering about the food.” yunjin’s heart was racing, she’d never seen yn like this before. “what’s the problem with me being in here? I don’t see the big deal,” she mumbled.

“because this is my home!” yn’s voice was sharp, rising as she shrugged off jia, who tried to calm her. “I don’t need you guys invading my safe space! do you hate me that much? that you can’t even let me have one place to escape from all of you?”

the feeling in yunjin’s stomach twisted painfully.

“wha–yn, hold on–” yunjin stammered.

“what?! am I being dramatic? I don’t care anymore!” yn’s voice cracked with rage and hurt. “did chaewon set you up to snoop on me? is that what this is? how much did you see?”

yunjin stayed silent.

“where’s all that talk you usually have? I asked how much did you see!”

“a lot…” yunjin admitted quietly.

“of course you did.” yn shook her head, her expression twisted with betrayal. “no one respects my wishes. I told you all to stay outside, to stay out of my space.”

she let out a bitter laugh, venom in every word. ��just my luck. I’d tell you to go back to new york and live on the rat infested streets where you belong, but that’d just give you another reason to make my life miserable.”

anger surged through yunjin anger at herself. she felt the crushing weight of yn’s words, the realization of just how deeply she’d hurt her. yn needed a safe space from them. from her. and now, because of yunjin’s carelessness, yn was unraveling.

guilt clawed at her, twisting her insides until she felt nauseous. that feeling in her stomach… it was overwhelming.

unable to hold it back, yunjin looked up, her gaze pleading as she met jia’s concerned eyes. “is there a washroom nearby?”

“right beside you,” jia said softly, pointing.

yunjin turned and stumbled toward the door, barely making it inside before collapsing to her knees in front of the toilet. she let everything out, her stomach churning, her chest heaving with sobs she couldn’t control. the weight of her guilt, her shame, everything she’d ignored and avoided, now pouring out in raw, painful waves.

she lifted her head from the toilet and turned to see yn and jia standing at the door with unreadable expressions.

“I’m so sorry.”

[earlysunshines]

jealousy looks great on you

hanni pham x fem!reader

synopsis: is she the asshole? hanni—female, 20 years old—pretends to act oblivious to her girlfriend being jealous because she thinks her gf looks soooo good when she’s bothered and protective

warnings: aespa member!reader ; i forgor the order of all of hannis shoots and stuff so pretend its in order ; nothing else??? ; haha kissing making out hahabhahahahjekekkeke ; not proofread, lillll rushed

a/n: am i the asshole for not knowing the order of each hanni gucci sponsor/campaign/event…

everyone and their mom knows that hanni is gorgeous. she's stunning both on the outside and inside, so it isn’t surprising that she’s the global ambassador of gucci.

unfortunately for you, her beloved girlfriend, that means a handful of others get to witness her beauty. you’ve come to terms that she’s not for your eyes only, but it still pains you regardless.

the first time it happened — hanni’s shoots coming out without you knowing beforehand — you were bothered, though not to such an extent.

as you were on the way to your girlfriend’s dorm, you had come across photos on twitter that showed you just what she had been up to. hanni posted phoning updates, and the first thought that echoed in your head was the fact that she would rather send pictures to her fans before you? hell, she never even texted you a selfie or anything.

when you had arrived at her dorm, opening the door with the spare key, you were met with minji making tea in the kitchen. you greeted her hastily, pursing your lips into a smile before crashing in your girlfriend’s room.

you were lounging on hanni’s bed, scrolling through your phone absentmindedly, when you heard the door to her dorm click open less than an hour later. your head snapped up as hanni walked in, fresh from her gucci shoot, her face lighting up when she saw you.

"hey, baby," she said softly, setting her bags down with a smile. "what are you doing here? i thought you had schedules tomorrow."

you grinned, leaning back against the pillows casually. "wanted to surprise you." you said with a playful lilt. "i snuck out of the sm dorms to see you."

hanni’s eyebrows raised, amused. "snuck out? just for me?"

you shrugged, trying to play it off coolly, but there was a certain edge to your tone when you spoke again. "yeah, well... i figured i should spend some time with my girlfriend. since she’s apparently too busy being a gucci ambassador to tell me about her shoot. you never told me you had one." the words came out more snarky than you intended, and hanni looked at you, confused.

"what?" she asked, a soft laugh escaping her. she didn’t seem to catch on to your subtle jealousy, but you kept your expression nonchalant. 

"nevermind." you waved it off, sitting up and pulling her closer by her waist as she stood next to the bed. "just thought it was funny how i found out about your shoot at the same time as everyone else."

"huh?" she blinked at you, clearly still confused but too tired to overthink it. she stepped between your legs, leaning into your touch. "oh, i didn’t even think about that... i’m sorry," she said genuinely, but you just shook your head, your fingers tightening around her waist.

"it’s whatever," it’s half of a lie. a smirk pulls at your lips as you tugged her down onto the bed beside you. "i’m here now, so i guess you’ll just have to make up for lost time."

before hanni could say anything else, you started peppering her neck and jawline with soft kisses, your lips brushing against her skin in a way that made her shiver. her breath hitched, and she tilted her head to give you more access, her confusion from earlier completely forgotten.

"you’re so clingy tonight," she whispered, her voice laced with amusement as she wrapped her arms around you. "...not that i’m complaining."

"clingy? me?" you teased, your hands sliding under the hem of her shirt as you continued kissing her, your lips lingering a little longer on her pulse. "i’m just giving you the attention you deserve. you know, more than your fans could ever give."

hanni let out a soft laugh, her eyes fluttering shut as she melted into your touch. "you’re cute when you’re like this."

"you think so?" you smirked, pulling back just enough to look at her, your fingers tracing slow circles on her waist. you leaned in close, your lips brushing against her ear as you whispered, "i’m just giving you what you want."

hanni’s cheeks flushed, her heart racing as your lips grazed her skin again. she didn’t question your behavior anymore, too caught up in the moment, and truthfully, she loved seeing you like this—playful, affectionate, and just a little bit possessive.

"you’re a tease," she mumbled, but her voice was breathless, and you could feel her hands tightening around you, holding you closer. you grinned, pressing one last kiss to her neck before pulling back with a satisfied smirk.

"maybe," you raise your brows before continuing, "but you like it, don’t you?"

hanni rolled her eyes playfully, but she couldn’t help the smile tugging at her lips. "yeah, i do."

you held her close, the jealousy still simmering in the back of your mind, but it didn’t really matter anymore. being here with her, pampering her with affection, made it all fade away. and hanni—oblivious to the little hint of jealousy—just thought you were being extra sweet, and that was enough for you.

—

it happens again a month later.

you were sitting at the kitchen island, scrolling through twitter with a frown as you mindlessly picked at your breakfast. the usual conversation between your members filled the dorm, but you were too distracted by your phone to engage. you kept staring at the pictures of hanni from her gucci shoot, looking gorgeous without even trying in every shot. the problem wasn’t that she looked amazing—the problem was that you had found out about it the same way everyone else had. again.

aeri, who noticed your unusually grumpy expression, raised an eyebrow as she sat down across from you. "what’s up with you?" she asks, taking a sip of her juice. "you look like someone just took your switch. did you lose your animal crossing card again?”

you didn’t answer, scrolling with a deeper frown, your breakfast was barely dented. aeri wasn’t having it though, and before you could stop her, she reached across the counter and snatched your phone out of your hand.

"hey!" you protested, but she had already seen the screen.

"ohhhh," she grinned, holding the phone up. "so this is why you’re all moody. your girlfriend is eating." she swiped through the photos, admiring the outfits and the way hanni posed—effortlessly and elegantly.

minjeong and jimin, hearing the commotion, walked over. "what’s going on?" minjeong asks, leaning over aeri’s shoulder to peek at your phone. when she saw the pictures, her eyes widened. “woah. your girlfriends really pretty.”

“i know. stop staring so hard.” you scold, grabbing the phone back. you look at it again and put your cheek on top of your palm. “but i just found out about the shoot. i’m finding out about all these things the same time as her fucking fans.”

jimin chuckles, sitting down next to you. "so, why didn’t she send you these pictures first? shouldn’t the lover get the exclusive preview?"

"right!" you blurted out, your frustration finally spilling over. "i’m her girlfriend, and i had to find out with the rest of twitter. you’re telling me i’m the same priority as a fucking stan account? i love hanni, like so fucking much, but i just… i don’t know, i really wanted to be the first one to see her like this. i wanted the exclusive." you crossed your arms, feeling a bit ridiculous now that you said it out loud.

aeri, minjeong, and jimin exchanged amused glances before bursting into laughter.

"you’re such a loser," minjeong teases, nudging you with her elbow. "i can’t believe you’re pouting over this."

"i’m not pouting," you grumbled through a pout.

jimin patted your back sympathetically, though she was still grinning. "look, i get it — kinda. but you’ve gotta admit, she looks really good. like, really good."

you couldn’t argue with that. your eyes drifted back to your phone. hanni looked incredible, and despite your initial grumpiness, you couldn’t help but stare at the pictures again, 

"yeah…" you muttered, a small smile tugging at your lips. "she looks amazing. so stop staring so hard at her.” you add, hiding your phone from your members dramatically.

aeri looked at you with a smirk. "it’s not so bad. you’re still her number one, even if twitter got the pictures first."

“fuck you,” you sigh, poking at your breakfast.

jimin laughs, shaking her head. "just text her later and ask for your own special ‘phoning’ update. i’m sure she’ll send you something.

you sigh, already feeling your mood lift a little as you turn on your phone, gazing at the photos again. "yeah, maybe i will."

your members tease you a little more before they let it go, but you couldn’t help but replay the thought of hanni looking so good, feeling just a little more eager to see her later. even if you didn’t get the first look, she was still yours, and that was enough — in a sense.

—

it was not enough in any sense. your schedule is too busy for you to really think about it though.

this time it was time for an important shoot on your schedule. you stand in front of the mirror, letting the stylist adjust your outfit for the prada shoot. the makeup artists had done an incredible job, and your stylist had put together a look that was nothing short of flawless. feeling confident, you snapped a few pictures of yourself in the mirror, making sure to capture every angle. after reviewing them, you immediately sent them to hanni, grinning as you opened facetime and waited for her to pick up.

when she did, hanni’s face lit up the second she saw you on the screen. "oh my god," she said, eyes wide with admiration as she took in your look. "you look so, holy— i hate you, you know?"

right,” you chuckled, feeling your heart skip a beat at the way she was looking at the screen with such amazement in her eyes. "i figured you’d like the outfit," you said, grinning as you showed her the full look by angling the phone at your attire. "they really went all out with this one."

"i love it," she says, biting her lip as she watched you through the screen. "you’re seriously killing me right now. i don’t know how i’m supposed to function after seeing this. are you insane?”

you felt your cheeks warm at her words, even though you were used to her compliments. "thanks, idiot," you murmur, unable to stop yourself from smiling like a loser. "but you know, you never sent me any pictures from your gucci shoots. i had to find out through twitter the last two times, you know?"

your tone was light, and you tried to keep it casual, but you couldn’t help the small pout that formed on your lips. hanni noticed immediately, and instead of addressing your playful complaint, she laughed softly.

"oh, we’re talking about that, huh?" she teases, her voice playful. "are you trying to guilt-trip me?"

you snickered, then shrugged, acting like it wasn’t a big deal, but you couldn’t hide the teasing smile tugging at your lips. "i’m just saying. i’d like my own special update, you know? i’m your girlfriend, after all."

hanni laughs again, but instead of responding to your comment, she flirted back without missing a beat. "well, you look too good for me to think straight right now, so maybe we’ll talk about it later," she said with a small smirk.

you roll your eyes playfully, but the warmth in your chest didn’t fade. "sure, just flirt your way out of it, as usual.”

"hmm, is it working?" she asks, tilting her head with a playful glint in her eyes.

you pout even more exaggeratedly. "maybe…"

hanni’s soft laugh made you melt, and even though she didn’t give you the exclusive photos you wanted, you couldn’t be mad when she was looking at you like that. she was still admiring you through the screen, biting her lip in a way that made your heart race.

"you’re kind of really hot." she admits absentmindedly.

"yeah?" you asked, feeling a flutter in your chest.

"yeah," she admitted. "like, seriously. the pictures you sent are soooooooo…”

you smirk, feeling a bit of pride swell up inside you. "good. you deserve to suffer after what you did to me with that gucci shoot."

hanni laughs again, shaking her head. "fine, fine. i’ll send you some pictures next time, but for now, just know that i’m maybe a little in love with you. i think i have a crush on you."

you couldn’t help but laugh at that, any lingering pout quickly disappearing. "really?” you joke.

“maybe.” she giggles. “i’ll let you go on and be all hot for the cameras, okay?”

“mhm, i love you.”

“i love you more.” hanni says, to which you respond with a roll of your eyes.

—

again. of course it happens again.

you were casually scrolling through your phone during a break at the dorm, not expecting much until you came across her.

hanni’s newest shoot, the one that had her trending all over social media, literally every platform. your jaw immediately dropped. she was in milan, draped in a top that left her entire back exposed, and the way she carried it—confident, stunning—it was like she owned the entire world in that moment. you froze, eyes glued to the screen, unable to tear your gaze away.

even worse, you really can’t tell at this point, was the photos of her in the car. her hair sat perfectly and made her features stand out, the way she looked at the camera made your lips part slightly, and you couldn’t be more amazed.

minjeong, sitting across from you, noticed your reaction instantly. "what’s going on with you?" she asks, raising an eyebrow. "you look like you’ve just seen a ghost."

you didn’t respond, too busy staring at the photos. your thumb mindlessly swiped through image after image, each one worse than the last because hanni just looked that good. she was a whole flight away from you, looking like that, and you were here, losing your mind over it.

jimin peers over your shoulder, curious. "is this about hanni again?"

you blink, realizing you haven’t said a word. "…maybe."

aeri snickered, leaning in to see what you were looking at. "let me guess—oh, wow." her eyes widened as she took in the photos. "okay, I get it. no wonder you’re freaking out. jesus christ.”

you felt a wave of heat creep up your neck as the rest of aespa started glancing at your phone, throwing teasing comments about how smitten you looked. but all you could focus on was hanni, her back out for the world to see, and you needed her back here — both her and her back, and her in that top, and her, just her —with you, immediately.

you genuinely couldn’t take it anymore. without a second thought, you screenshotted one of the tweets, zooming in on the picture that was making you lose your senses. you opened your messages with hanni, sent the image, and typed out, “we need to have a talk when you’re back.”

it was a simple message, but you knew hanni would understand the underlying meaning — to an extent. the second you hit send, your heart raced, imagining her reaction.

hanni was in milan, probably busy with her schedule, but you pictured her reading your text and furrowing her brows in confusion. an hour later, she replied with a simple, “what the hell??”followed by a flurry of mixes of punctuation, numbers, and signs.

you bit your lip, fighting back a grin. the rest of your members were still laughing at how flustered you were, but you didn’t care. all you knew was that the second hanni got back, you were going to have a very important conversation with her.

(maybe one that started with a kiss.)

—

hanni had gotten back to seoul a day after you sent the message. to be completely honest, she had been thinking about the message since you sent it.

she didn’t even have time to go to her room, immediately unwinding in the living room and grabbing an extra pack of pj’s in her backpack to bring to the bathroom.

she finished and changed into your t-shirt and her old plaid pants. she opened the door to her room, fresh from her shower with her damp hair falling onto her shoulders, she barely had time to react when you suddenly pulled her in, pinning her to the door with a soft but fixed grip.

she gasps, her eyes wide with surprise.

one: hanni didn’t expect to see you so soon. two: wow, you’re really close and she can’t even deny that this isn’t the slightest bit… hot.

“why didn’t you show me those pictures, huh?” your voice was low, but there was a teasing edge in it as you leaned in closer, your face just inches from hers. “why do i have to find out about your shoots at the same time as your fans? i’m your girlfriend, hanni. i should’ve seen it first.”

hanni tilted her head, smiling up at you as she tried to hold back a laugh. “so this is what it’s been all about?” she asks, her voice playful. “i knew you were just jealous.”

“i’m not jealous,” you deny immediately, but your grip on her waist tightens just a little, and you could feel the heat crawling up your neck. the way hanni was looking at you, with that smug, knowing smile, wasn’t helping your case at all.

“oh, come on,” she teases, her voice soft and alluring as she brought a hand up to brush a stray piece of hair behind your ear. “you’ve been acting all weird just because i didn’t send you pictures first?”

you huff, turning your head slightly. “i just think it’s fair that i get a sneak peek. is that so much to ask?” 

hanni grins, clearly entertained by how flustered you were. she leaned in a little closer, her voice dropping to a whisper. “you know... you look really good when you’re jealous.”

your demeanor faltered. her words, her tone, the way she was looking at you with those teasing eyes, ones that stared more intensely than in the photos—it was all too much. your lips brushed against her jawline, soft and slow, and you heard her inhale sharply. your hands, now resting on her waist, pulled her even closer, and she practically melted against you.

“you’re lucky you’re cute,” you mumble between kisses, trailing from her jaw to her neck, your lips lingering longer as you felt her shift in your arms, her breath hitching slightly.

hanni’s laughter was lighter now, softer, as she squirmed just enough to maneuver herself out of your grip and guide you over to her bed. before you knew it, she was in your lap, straddling you, her arms wrapped around your shoulders, and that teasing smile was back on her lips.

“you’re really gonna deny being jealous?” she questions, running her fingers through your hair, her touch sending little shivers down your spine. “you look like, really good when you are.”

you pout, though the effect was probably lost with how warm and flustered you felt under her gaze. “shut up.” you groan.

hanni’s grin only widened.

“see? wasn’t so hard to admit, was it?” she pokes at your nerves, leaning down to press a kiss to your temple, then to the corner of your mouth.

you groan, pulling her closer, your hands firm on her waist as she shifted in your lap. “fine. but just so you know, i’ll be expecting all the teaser images.”

“your job is getting to you.”

“shh.”

hanni laughs, her fingers tracing lightly over your collarbone. “deal. though, i kind of like you like this,” she adds, her voice softening as she looked down at you. “all pouty and clingy. might make you more jealous on purpose again cutie.”

you roll your eyes, but can’t stop the smile tugging at your lips. “you’re impossible.”

“and yet, here we are,” she whispers, her lips ghosting over yours before pressing against them in a soft, lingering kiss that made your heart race all over again.

[atinystraynstay]

Love Underneath the Moon - Christopher Bahng

Synopsis: "Coming home to you keeps me fucking sane."

Pairing: idol! Christopher Bahng x fem reader

Genre: fluff at the beginning but turns smut because all I keep thinking about is Chan's back photo from Global Citizen.. thanks Changbin, established relationship, possessive Chan - Minors DNI

Contains: nudity, dirty talk, fingering (f. receiving), ending (f. receiving), mentions of female masturbation with sex toys, unprotected sex, vaginal penetration, creampie, oral (f. receiving), Chan eats cum out of your pussy (idk what you even call that??)

Word Count: 4.3k

——————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————

Today has been fucking shit Nothing is going right, nobody is agreeing on anything I just want to be home with you..

Each time you read over the text messages, your heart broke a bit. Chan was the guy who put is 100% into everything he does. Not only because he wants a solid end product, but because he cares. You adored how motivated and dedicated Chan was, especially when it comes to music. He's worked so hard to get to this point.

However, with that high level of dedication came intense frustration when things weren't going his way. You wanted to help him out as much as you could, but Chan sometimes forbid you from coming to the studio. It wasn't that he didn't want you there. You were always the first one to listen to the newest songs or projects. When they were almost finished, that is. If he was in the midst of the hurricane of creativity, he wanted to wait until he rode out the storm.

That left you with only one solution - prepare for Chan to arrive home. You had cleaned the living room, so it was a comfortable space for Chan the moment he walked in. You had his favorite sandalwood candle burning on the coffee table. In the kitchen, you were preparing his favorite meal. God bless his mom for sending you the recipe. You were certain he hadn't eaten since he stepped into the studio.

Chan was the type of guy that took care of everyone before himself. That's why he got so frustrated whenever he was falling short of his own expectations. The songs were pivotal for himself but also the success of his members. He also found himself getting agitated because he was spending more time away from you.

You rarely got the chance to spoil your boyfriend. He often was too insistent that he had to take care of you first, both in the bedroom and on a day-to-day basis. Tonight was going to be different.

Suddenly, you heard the front door of your shared apartment open and the sound of footsteps. You stirred the stew cooking in the pot once more before putting a lid on it, letting it simmer for a few moments. Your boyfriend needed you.

"Princess, I'm home," called out that familiar voice. "Coming!"

Your feet couldn't have carried you faster. You rushed towards the front of the apartment where you spotted your boyfriend. He was slipping off his leather jacket, hanging it up on the coat rack before slipping out of his shoes. He groaned in relief when his feet hit the soft carpet beneath him.

"Welcome home, handsome," you greeted. Chan smiled at the sound of your voice being closer than before. He looked exhausted from his somewhat slumped posture to the look in his eyes. You knew he was due for a good night's sleep, but not before you were attentive to his needs.

Once you were close to him, you snaked your arms around his torso. He pulled you in closer, arms flexed around your smaller frame and holding you close as possible. His face nuzzled into your hair. He loved the scent of your shampoo - coconut with a hint of vanilla. It comforted him. You felt his body somewhat relax just by the physical contact. You placed tiny kisses across the side of his face and jawline.

You knew better than to ask him about work. You already got enough information how work went from the texts exchanged between the two of you. Now that he was home, you wanted to help him forget about the day.

"My girl miss me as much as I missed her?" Chan hummed lightly. "Of course I did," you whispered.

You pulled back gently, just enough to be able to look up into his eyes. He smiled once he got a view of your entire face. Keeping one arm wrapped around you, his other hand reached down to tuck a few strands of your hair behind your ear. His hand then slid forward so he cupped your cheek. His touch was warm and comforting, causing you to naturally lean your face into his palm. He grinned at the gesture.

"Now, I have a few options for us tonight-" you began. "Sweetie, I appreciate the gesture, but I'm exhausted," Chan frowned.

He hated letting you down. You quickly shook your head which caused him to furrow his eyebrows in confusion. Just wait until he hears what you have in store for him.

"If you let me finished, I was going to say you can pick what we do," you explained. You kept one arm wrapped around his torso. Your free hand slipped forward to rest on his chest. You allowed your fingertips to run up and down gently, feeling just how toned your boyfriend was. Lord have mercy.

"So, I do have dinner on the stove. It is ready for you now or I can easily put it in the fridge for after," you giggled. "You could also go take off your shirt and let me give you a message, you can go take a shower, or we can go relax in bed for a while until you feel ready to eat. Anything can happen that you'd like, baby boy."

His eyes widened in surprise as his heart swelled with happiness. How did he get so lucky?

"As much as I love your cooking, my body aches. I was going to take a hot shower before we eat, but a massage sounds even better," he confessed. His hands ran up and down your sides affectionately, stopping at your hips. He gave a light squeeze before pulling you in closer. Chan's face moved closer to yours. There was something in his mind transpiring. "And how could I pass up the opportunity of having your hands all over me?" He asked, eyebrow raised but a smirk on his lips. His voice had dropped an octave which only accentuated his accent. It also made you want to drop on your knees for him.

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

Candles were lit all around your bedroom, providing a warm glow to the room. Even under the dimmed lighting, Chan's skin still glowed. He had a playlist he created on Spotify for when the two of you would unwind at night. Currently, "I'm Probably Going To Rock Your World" by Logic was playing through the speakers.

You were straddling Chan's lower back. He was shirtless, muscles relaxed for the time being. His hands gently resting on the comforter beneath him. He always loved the feeling of your body on his. You were his anchor in this life. He would do everything and anything for you as you really go above and beyond for him.

"Just relax, baby," you whispered. "I've got you."

That's all that Chan needed to hear. He crossed his arms and let the left side of his face rest against them. From this position, he could still look back at you.

Your lips began to plant gentle kisses across his face. He had a wide grin on his lips, chuckling and blushing a bit. Chris was still getting used to the fact that you were willing to show him so much affection. He's never had a partner that seemed to be so prideful in being his. It made him all giggly. You smiled lightly against his skin as you pressed the tiny kisses which nearly killed him.

Sitting up slightly, your lips began to press into the back of his neck. They moved slowly to his shoulder blades. You've always been mesmerized by his shoulders, specifically their strength. In every sense, Chan was the strongest person you knew.

He was the leader of the group, he attended every meeting possible so the best decision was being made for the 7 members. He also constantly recorded every single that his mind came up with, most of the time for the others. He always put the 7 boys first before himself.

You also were attracted to his physical strength. You could watch the way his muscles flexed whenever he had to lift, pull, push, or do anything. You wanted to run your hands over every ridge formed, kiss every dimple. How did you get so lucky to have him all to yourself? Reaching beside you, you squirted a bit of lotion into your hands. Gently rubbing them together, just so the lotion spreads over your hands. Your hands got to work at easing his tense muscles. He groaned in bliss at the feeling of your hands against his skin. You felt your stomach tingle at the sound.

You focused on his back muscles first. Your fingertips pressed into his skin, rolling it gently. He hummed at the feeling, shutting his eyes. One of his hands though moved from underneath his head. It moved slowly to rest against your outer thigh.

There was no denying that you loved having Chan's attention. He was a very busy man. You were grateful to be a part of his world, but you loved the moments when nothing else mattered besides you. And to Chan, you were his everything. He was unafraid to show you that. "I'm sorry, sweet girl, that I've been away for a while. I cannot imagine how lonely the nights must've been."

With dance rehearsals, award shows, and promotions, you and Chan have rarely gotten time to just be with each other. Of course, you were incredibly proud to be able to witness firsthand all his hard work paying off. You just couldn't fight that you secretly wished he would be home more rather than seeing each other right when you wake up and right when you fall asleep. "Yet, here you are. Taking care of me?" Chan's hand ran up and down your bare thigh. His fingers ran along the skin, causing goosebumps to rise. He couldn't help but smirk knowing the effect he has on you. "Well, you're the one who had a bad day, baby," you rationalized. "Hmm, I did but you're always going above and beyond for me. I think it's time I return the favor." You didn't get the chance to argue with Chan. Before you knew it, Chan was sitting up. He placed both of his hands on your thighs to ease you onto the bed, so your back hit the comforter. He maneuvered himself so he however above you.

His hands left your thighs, so they could explore the rest of your body. He looked at you with love, with admiration, with lust. One hand rested on your side, caressing your stomach affectionately. The other hand was holding himself up as he leaned over you. "Much better, don't you think?" He winked.

The hand on your stomach slowly moved up underneath your shirt. He moved it slowly, wanting you to feel every ridge of his fingerprint on your skin. His hand slowly moved up and he cupped your left breast. He squeezed it gently, feeling the soft lace under his touch. Lace was always his kryptonite. "Why don't you take it off for me, darling? Hmm? Show me what belongs to me." You didn't have to be told twice. You first slipped off the oversized black shirt off your torso, the one you stole from his closet. The sleeves reached your elbows and came down to your thighs. You tossed the shirt onto the floor, exposing your white lace bra and panties to Chan. He nearly lost it.

"Like what you see?" You giggled.

When the two of you first together, you were a bit on the self-conscious side. You had a string of boyfriends who left more damage than love which made you cautious. Chan was quick to make work on dissolving any self-doubt you had about yourself. He loved watching your confidence grow because it meant that you were seeing yourself as he saw you. You were the whole universe in his eyes. "Baby girl, I fucking love it," he groaned under his breath. "And wearing all white? Really trying to be a good girl or the angel of death because you're going to kill me."

You couldn't help but giggle at his dramatics. One hand moved up to run through his hair, gripping it slightly. His jaw clenched as he could feel the lust storming inside of him. Yet, he wanted to keep his composure. He didn't want to go all in unless you gave him the green light. "You know I love you, right?" He murmured. He leaned down to press kisses into your jawline, moving down towards your neck. His lips worked rather quick. He made light nips into your skin, causing you to cling more to him. "But you want to ruin me?" You whispered into his ear.

You were quick to connect the dots. You could tell by the look in his eyes that there was something on his mind. And while you loved making love to your boyfriend, you both were craving each other. You had nowhere else to be but with each other. Your tone was light and seductive. It caused Chan's mind to become fuzzy as all he could think about was slamming his cock in your pussy. He craved your warm, wet, tight pussy as you screamed his name. The only name that could leave your mouth for the rest of your days. His inner thoughts revealed themselves as you could feel his boner pressing against your inner thigh.

"You read my fucking mind, darling." "Then what are you waiting for? Ruin my pussy for anyone else."

There it is. The green light.

He slowly sat up, looking down at you. You swore you'd never seen a more beautiful sight. And he was all yours. You smiled at him gently, showing him you were ready for everything that he was ready to give you.

The mood in the room shifted. Nothing prepared you for Chan gripping the lace of your panties and ripping them off your hips. You gasped in surprised, staring up at him with wide eyes. You always knew Chan was strong, but god damn. He could go through your whole underwear drawer if he wanted to because that was the hottest thing you've ever witnessed.

His ego boosted seeing as how your legs immediately opened for him. You have always been so responsive to him.

"My girl has been so patient for me, waiting every night for me to come home," he hummed. "Been craving this dick for so long, haven't you?" "I've missed your cock so much, daddy. Nothing can replace you." "You haven't been playing with yourself while I've been away then?" His eyebrow was raised. Oh fuck.

"Because don't think I didn't notice the pink vibrator you tucked underneath your pillow the other night. I know I never gave you permission because you never asked. What is one of daddy's rules?"

You wanted the bed to swallow you whole. You did your best to keep yourself occupied. Chan always appreciated his good girl. You would text him, saying how needy you were for his touch. The past few days of been silent on your end when it came to the topic. He figured you were just busy. "Well?" His tone now an octave lower. It accentuated his Australian accent, making your pussy become wetter in an instant. "Answer me." "To always ask daddy for permission before pleasing myself." "Very good. Daddy just likes to make sure his girl is being taken care of. I don't like lying." Before you could rush out apologizes to your significant other, his fingers smacked against your clit. The slap caused your legs to jolt a bit, pleasure running up your spin. "I really should punish you tonight." His words contradicted his actions. At first, his fingers gently rubbed small circles into your clit to ease the ache. Then, he moved his fingers to run up and down his slit. He smirked with satisfaction feeling already how wet you were for him. "But you went through so much trouble for me. It's as if you knew you got caught and were already trying to make up for it."

Your mind was a bit fuzzy already with the lust taking over. It's been weeks without the two of you being able to be intimate. There really wasn't anything that Ould replace how Chan makes you feel. You just needed something to hold you over, but you weren't able to risk saying that. You weren't in the mood for teasing. If being compliant got you what you desired most which was Chan stretching you out with his thick dick, you'd do whatever it took. "I'm sorry, daddy," you whimpered.

He smiled down at you gently before placing a lingering kiss on your forehead. You fluttered your eyes at the gesture but soon shot them up at the feeling of Chan's two fingers entering your pussy. He moved his forehead against yours, wanting to see your reaction.

His fingers already reached places your own could never. He made quick work to scissor his fingers. Chan always took pride in providing for you, in taking care of you. Foreplay and making sure you were properly ready, both physically but also emotionally and mentally were top priority for him. Skipping this step was a non-negotiable. "Oh, I know you are, baby girl. I know you can only be so patient for so long. I'm honestly impressed with how long you went before breaking." He didn't need to know just how many times you broke that rule. Not yet at least.

Your grip tightened on his hair as he curled his fingers in your pussy. The walls of your pussy were already clenching on his fingers, nearly making Chan roll his eyes back into his head. His fingers moved with urgency into you, his thumb moving to circle your clit. You cried out both in relief and pleasure at the feeling.

"My girl has really missed me."

All you could do was nod your head. You normally aren't the type to get this worked up over fingering, but given the circumstances and given that it was Chan - there was no surprise. You felt your clit throb from the stimulation and your legs twitch, your stomach growing warmer and tighter.

Not yet though. Chan wanted to experience that level of euphoria inside of you. Sure, he loved knowing that he could make you cum with just his fingers. He loved seeing that he was the one that made you see the stars.

Right now, with his cock throbbing inside his shorts, he needed to be inside of you. He wanted your pussy to squeeze his cock.

Just as you were about to warn close of your approaching high, he pulled his fingers out of you. He chuckled at your shocked state. You were so close. The lose of contact caused you to whimper. He almost felt bad. Almost.

He winked at you before sticking his two fingers in his mouth. He hummed loudly, loving the taste of you. It was his favorite thing in the world. He maintained eye contact with you, wanting you to know how attracted he was to you. He would do everything to make sure you never questioned his attraction to you.

Pop.

His fingers were pulled out of his mouth. The sound of their removal bouncing off the walls. "Sweet like honey."

Chan slowly sat up on his knees to pull his shorts. You both were grateful for your lack of clothing. it meant you two could get to each other sooner. He kicked them off, so they joined the shirts discarded on the floor. His cock slapped up against his stomach, the tip red with anger at being restrained for so long.

He was a work of art.

"No boxers, baby?" you giggled. "No, I knew I'd come up and fuck you the moment I left this morning."

You don't know what you did in your previous lives to be grated with being Chan's lover, but you were forever grateful.

Wasting no more time, Chan slid in between your legs. He placed one hand by your head. You tilted your head over to place a delicate kiss to Chan's wrist. You couldn't help yourself.

Even though it was rather intense in the room, that didn't mean you wouldn't let an opportunity pass by the show Chan how much he meant to you. He never crumbled at the gesture but quickly regained his composure.

With his free hand on your side, his knee pushed your thigh further apart. Just enough so he could slid in and place the head of your cock at your entrance. You moaned softly at the feeling. So close.

"Your pussy is mine, got it?"

You didn't even get to nod before Chan slammed into you. You moaned loudly at the feeling. His cock stretched you out, even after he fingered you properly. He groaned as your walls welcomed his cock, gripping already from how worked up and desperate you are. He rolled his head back. "So fucking gorgeous, babe. Fuck," he murmured before his hips began a brutal pace.

There was no time to hold back. You and Chan have gone far too long without being so intimate, all of it was being laid out. His hand gripped your side as his hips began to ram into you in a rhythm. The way he filled you up made you delirious.

His eyes never left you. He loved watching you fall apart in front of him. The grip you had on his bicep further encouraged him to give you everything he had.

The sound of wet skin slapping made him feral. He watched as your eyes rolled back, your cheeks a light pink color. Your lips were slightly parted as you moaned without any control. "That's it, darling. I know it feels good. Let everyone know how good it feels."

You moaned his name loudly. You're let one leg hook around his hip, keeping him close. In some ways, this is everything you wanted. You wanted him to just fuck you. Nothing more, nothing less. On the other hand, you craved just feeling him close to you. You craved his body heat.

This was all he wanted too. He wanted you all to himself, he wanted to be vulnerable and intimate with you. Having sex was just a bonus.

Given that Chan had teased you prior, it didn't take long for you to feel that familiar feeling return. Your back arched slightly as Chan made sure to angle his hips, wanting his cock to press against your g-spot and also make sure all of him was inside. You needed to feel every inch of him.

"C-Chan, I'm already close. I-I'm sorry, I can hold off and wait for you."

Your words were rushed. You felt guilty that tonight had become all about you, but honestly, this was Chan's perfect night. He smiled sickeningly sweet at you. Even with his cock filling you to the brim, you were the sweetest person. You were looking after him still even though he wanted nothing more than to cater to your desires.

"I know, darling. Don't apologize. Just let yourself go."

Your mind hesitated for a second. However, your body had other intentions. With one powerful thrust into your pussy, you came undone. You cried out in pleasure as your vision became white. Your toes curled slightly against the comforter. Chan admired for a moment the way your body shook.

That was all it took for Chan. He came just at the sight of you reaching your orgasm. He was satisfied seeing the sheen layer of sweat that coated your face and neck. He was over the moon the way your body trembled as you came down from your high. Your pussy walls was spasming against his cock

He groaned loudly as he came into your pussy. Hot spurts of his semen filled you deliciously. You could melt into the bed with all the love surrounding you.

Slowly, Chan pulled out of you. He felt his cock twitch slightly at the sight his cum seeping out of your pussy. You attempted to close your legs, but his hands stopped you. He wanted to take a second to admire his work.

Your chest was still rising and falling, but you were trying to come down quickly to rejoin him back in reality. Chan chuckled lightly underneath his breath before leaning down, licking a long strip to collect all the cum leaving your pussy.

You could die from the sight in between your legs. Sensing your eyes on him, Chan looked up. He winked at you before swallowing his cum. Lord have mercy.

Chan kissed your inner thigh before sitting up, allowing you to close your legs. He kissed up your stomach, in between your breasts, your neck. The kisses were cool yet set your skin ablaze. Your arms wrapped around his neck once he got closer to you.

The two of you were smiling wide, eyes disappearing and cheeks aching. Yet, neither of you could care. All the lonely nights were worth it for this one singular moment. And surely, there would be more moments like tonight to come. Your fingers played with the hair on the back of Chan's neck which made him chuckle, finding it both ticklish and enduring.

Soon, his lips moved to hover over your ear. His breath was warm as it hit the shell of your ear, causing you to shiver. Your heart raced with anticipation. What else did he have up his sleeve? "I hope you enjoyed your last orgasm from me for a little bit. Bad girls still get punished, no matter how good they try to be."

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Note: HAPPY NEW YEAR! I hope 2024 treats you well 🩷 I started writing on Tumblr as a way to bring some happiness back into my life. I've always been drawn to writing, so I'm glad that I have another way to get my thoughts, ideas, and whatever else out there for other people. I'm definitely looking to writing more in the new year

[w1w2]

Number One Girl

Sequel of Stay A Little Longer

Rosé x Fem!Reader

Word Count: ca. 10k

Synopsis: Two years after their painful breakup, Y/N and Roseanne cross paths again, reigniting unresolved emotions and a love they thought was lost.

Rosé - number one girl "Your one and only So what's it gon' take for you to want me?"

English isn’t my first language so I apologize in advance for any mistakes.

♡ Enjoy! ♡

October arrived with a crisp chill, painting Seoul in hues of amber and gold. Y/N sat on the edge of her sofa, nursing a warm cup of tea as the sun dipped below the skyline, its fading light spilling into her apartment. The room exuded quiet comfort, the kind of space carefully curated to feel like home, but even its warmth couldn’t banish the faint ache in her chest.

Two years had passed since she packed her life into boxes and walked away from the only person who had ever truly known her. Yet, the memory of Roseanne lingered like a bittersweet melody, refusing to fade completely.

Y/N traced the rim of her mug absently, her gaze fixed on the framed photograph sitting on the bookshelf across the room. It was one of the few relics she hadn’t packed away after their breakup. The image was of Hank, Rosie’s dog, sitting between them on a bright summer day. Their smiles in the picture were carefree, unguarded. It hurt to look at it, but she couldn’t bring herself to hide it away.

Her phone buzzed on the coffee table, jolting her from her thoughts. She reached for it, her brows furrowing as a flood of notifications lit up the screen.

“Rosé’s New Single Featuring Bruno Mars Takes Charts by Storm!”

“Party Anthem of the Year: Rosé Dominates with Latest Release!”

Y/N clicked on one of the headlines almost reflexively. A glossy photo of Roseanne lit up the screen, her radiant smile and confident aura commanding attention. The article praised her electrifying performance and the catchy hook of her new single, calling it a global sensation. Y/N’s lips quirked into a faint smile despite herself. She could almost hear Rosie’s voice, layered over the infectious beat, as she read the glowing reviews.

Scrolling further, she found a video clip of an interview. Against her better judgment, she pressed play. Roseanne appeared on screen, her blonde hair falling in effortless waves around her face. She looked poised but carried a familiar warmth in her demeanor as she talked about the creative process behind the song.

“It’s a little different from what I’ve done before,” Roseanne admitted with a laugh. “But I wanted something fun, something that made people want to move.”

The sight of her, so vibrant, so magnetic, sent a pang through Y/N’s chest. She set the phone down, staring at the floor as memories stirred unbidden.

The nights spent in their tiny apartment came rushing back. Roseanne perched on the couch with her guitar, the melody of an unfinished song drifting through the room, Y/N’s attempts to distract her with jokes, or bribe her with takeout when the creative process ran long. The way Rosie’s laughter would fill the space, a sound Y/N once thought she could never live without.

Her chest tightened. She shook her head, willing the memories away. What was the point of dwelling on a past she couldn’t change?

The shrill ring of her phone cut through her thoughts. She glanced at the screen. Jennie.

Y/N hesitated for a moment before answering. “Hey, Jen.”

“Hey, stranger,” Jennie’s familiar voice chimed on the other end, cheerful and warm. The sound was a welcome break in Y/N’s otherwise quiet evening, and she couldn’t help but smile faintly. “Don’t tell me you’re working late again.”

“I’m not,” Y/N replied, sinking further into the couch and tucking her legs beneath her. “Just… having a quiet evening.”

Jennie hummed knowingly, a playful lilt in her voice. “You? Quiet evening? That’s code for sulking alone with Netflix and takeout, isn’t it?”

Y/N huffed a small laugh, shaking her head. “You caught me. Minus the takeout.”

“Well, I’ve got the perfect way to change that,” Jennie declared. There was a note of triumph in her tone, as if she had been planning this all along. “I’m hosting a little gathering this weekend at my house. Just a small thing with close friends. Good food, good drinks, no pressure.”

Y/N leaned her head against the back of the couch, letting the words sink in. She could already picture Jennie in her kitchen, effortlessly juggling appetizers and cocktails while effortlessly charming everyone in the room. The image was comforting, but the idea of being around people again still gave her pause.

“I don’t know, Jennie,” she said hesitantly, her voice soft. “It’s been a while since I’ve gone to something like that.”

“That’s exactly why you should come,” Jennie pressed, her voice dropping into that persuasive tone Y/N knew too well. “You’ve been holed up for way too long. Besides, it’s not a big party or anything. Just us, close friends, no drama, no stress. You’ll have fun, I promise.”

Y/N bit her lip, toying with the edge of the blanket draped over her lap. She knew Jennie meant well, and a part of her did want to go. It had been too long since she’d seen Jennie, too long since she’d let herself just… exist in the company of others.

After the breakup, Jennie had been a lifeline. She was the one who dragged Y/N out of bed on her worst days, who sent random memes to make her laugh, who showed up with coffee and snacks when Y/N needed them most. Jennie had been one of the few constants in Y/N’s life when everything else felt like it was slipping away.

Y/N sighed, a small smile tugging at her lips despite herself. “Alright,” she said finally. “I’ll come.”

“Yes!” Jennie’s excited cheer was so loud that Y/N had to pull the phone away from her ear. “I promise you won’t regret it. And dress cute, I know you’ve been living in sweatpants, but this is a chance to remind everyone how amazing you are. Got it?”

“Got it,” Y/N replied, laughing softly at Jennie’s relentless enthusiasm.

“Great! I’ll text you the details. See you then!”

The call ended with a click, leaving Y/N staring at her phone. For the first time in what felt like ages, a flicker of anticipation broke through the lingering melancholy that had become her constant companion. She set the phone down and leaned back against the cushions, her mind already racing with thoughts about the weekend.

She trusted Jennie to keep things relaxed, to make the evening as effortless as she had promised. And though Y/N was apprehensive about stepping out of her cocoon of solitude, she also felt a small, hopeful spark at the idea of reconnecting with old friends.

What Y/N didn’t know, what Jennie hadn’t mentioned, was that Roseanne would also be there.

Jennie’s villa stood like a beacon of modern luxury in the heart of UN Village, its large windows spilling warm golden light into the cool October evening. Y/N approached the entrance with hesitant steps, adjusting the sleeves of her suit jacket. The outfit was simple yet striking, a fitted, single-button blazer in a deep charcoal gray paired with cropped trousers and a soft cream blouse left casually untucked at one side. Her choice of white sneakers added a laid-back edge, balancing the look between casual and elegant.

She paused to smooth her hair, inhaling deeply before stepping up to the door. The crisp evening air carried faint hints of autumn leaves and laughter from inside, a stark contrast to the quiet she had grown used to.

Jennie greeted her the moment she stepped inside, her sharp eyes immediately sweeping over Y/N with an approving smile. “Look who finally decided to grace us with her presence!”

Y/N rolled her eyes lightly but couldn’t help smiling. “You act like I’m impossible to get a hold of.”

“You practically are,” Jennie teased, pulling her into a warm hug. As she stepped back, her gaze lingered appreciatively. “But seriously, you look amazing. Who knew you could make a suit look that good?”

A flush crept up Y/N’s neck, and she laughed softly. “Just trying something different.”

“Well, keep doing it,” Jennie said with a grin, looping her arm through Y/N’s. “Now, come on. I have to show you off, and make sure you grab a drink before the others steal all my attention.”

The villa was alive with energy. Guests filled the spacious living room and spilled out onto the terrace, where a fire pit crackled beneath the night sky. Soft jazz played in the background, mingling with the sound of glasses clinking and cheerful chatter. Y/N recognized several familiar faces: Irene and Seulgi of Red Velvet chatting by the bar, Nayeon and Jihyo from Twice laughing over drinks, and the unmistakable presence of actress Hoyeon Jung, effortlessly stunning in a tailored suit.

Jennie guided her through the crowd, expertly navigating the lively buzz of the gathering. With each stop, she introduced Y/N to a mix of familiar faces and new ones, her effortless charm putting everyone at ease. “Help yourself to anything,” Jennie said after a brief introduction to an indie actor Y/N vaguely recognized. She gestured toward the lavish spread of food and drinks set up in the dining area. “Seriously, make yourself at home, okay? No standing awkwardly in corners allowed.”

Y/N chuckled and nodded, appreciating Jennie’s genuine warmth and the gentle nudge. But even as she made her way to the long table laden with delicate appetizers and sparkling drinks, the faint unease in her chest refused to dissipate.

The villa was alive with conversation and laughter, the atmosphere light and inviting. Yet, as Y/N reached for a glass of wine, her fingers brushed against the stem awkwardly, betraying the nervous energy she was trying to suppress. She scanned the room, the elegant furnishings and glimmering lights blending into a soft blur of activity.

She tried to shake it off, telling herself it was just the unfamiliarity of being around so many people again. But deep down, she knew it was more than that.

After browsing the appetizers, choosing a small plate more for something to do than actual hunger, Y/N slipped toward the terrace doors. The cool glass felt grounding beneath her fingertips as she stepped just shy of the threshold, a glass of wine in hand. She watched the guests gathered outside, their laughter rising against the backdrop of the flickering fire pit. The golden light danced over their faces, casting warm, moving shadows.

The open air and soft hum of conversation were comforting. She exhaled slowly, letting her shoulders relax for the first time that evening. Maybe Jennie was right. Maybe this wasn’t such a bad idea.

Her mind began to drift as she sipped her wine. Flashes of memories bubbled up, late nights spent laughing in another cozy setting, another warm space filled with music and quiet intimacy. Y/N quickly shook the thoughts away, focusing instead on the present, the firelight, the soft glow of fairy lights strung along the terrace railing.

She was just beginning to let the tension melt when it happened, a subtle shift in the energy of the room.

It was almost imperceptible at first, like the faintest ripple in still water. A hushed pause in conversations, a collective glance toward the entryway. And then Y/N felt it, the unmistakable pull of a presence she had spent two years trying to forget.

Roseanne had arrived.

The air seemed to hum with her arrival, her presence magnetic even in a room full of stars. Dressed in an effortlessly chic ensemble, a fitted black turtleneck paired with a high-waisted silk skirt that shimmered faintly in the light, she carried herself with quiet confidence. Her blonde waves framed her face perfectly, and the soft glow of the villa’s lights highlighted the delicate contours of her features.

Y/N’s breath caught in her throat as their eyes met across the room.

The world seemed to narrow in that moment, all noise fading into a distant hum. Roseanne’s polite smile faltered, just briefly, as her gaze locked with Y/N’s. Her almond-shaped eyes held a mixture of emotions Y/N couldn’t quite place, surprise, maybe even longing.

Y/N’s grip tightened around her glass, her pulse quickening. She turned her attention back to the terrace, feigning interest in the view, but her heart raced in her chest. The ease she had begun to feel moments ago evaporated, replaced by the familiar ache she had been trying to bury.

Jennie greeted Roseanne warmly, pulling her into a brief hug before steering her toward the group by the bar. Y/N could feel her presence even from a distance, the hum of tension now impossible to ignore.

She took a steadying sip of her wine, willing herself to stay calm. This was just a coincidence, she told herself. A moment she could navigate with poise, no matter what emotions it stirred within her.

But as she turned her gaze back toward the room, the weight of Roseanne’s arrival lingered, like a chord unresolved.

“Y/N,” Irene called from nearby, her warm voice cutting through the haze of Y/N’s thoughts. “Come join us!”

Y/N blinked, jolted out of her daze. She turned to see Irene standing with few others by the bar, her hand raised in a beckoning gesture. Grateful for the distraction, Y/N forced a smile and made her way over, her steps steady despite the nervous energy swirling within her.

“Thought you were going to hide by the terrace all night,” Irene teased as Y/N approached.

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Y/N replied with a soft laugh, raising her glass in mock defense.

Seulgi grinned, her relaxed demeanor immediately putting Y/N at ease. “Jennie would drag you back if you tried.”

“That sounds about right,” Y/N said, the corners of her mouth lifting slightly.

The group’s conversation flowed easily, a mix of lighthearted jokes and anecdotes. Irene shared a funny story about an ill-timed wardrobe malfunction during a recent performance, drawing laughter from everyone, including Y/N. For a brief moment, she allowed herself to relax, letting the warmth of the group’s camaraderie wash over her.

But no matter how much she tried to stay present, her focus kept straying back to Roseanne.

She was across the room now, standing near Jennie and Hoyeon. The soft rise and fall of her laughter floated over the hum of conversations, faint but unmistakable. Y/N’s eyes found her almost instinctively, tracing the graceful way Roseanne gestured with her hands as she spoke, the subtle tilt of her head when she listened.

Roseanne’s smile, polite and poised, reminded Y/N of countless moments they had shared, from quiet nights on their couch to bursts of laughter over shared inside jokes. It was a smile that had once belonged solely to Y/N, and the ache of seeing it from a distance now was almost too much to bear.

“Earth to Y/N,” Irene’s voice cut in, her tone amused.

Y/N startled slightly, realizing Irene’s sharp gaze was fixed on her. “Sorry, what?”

Seulgi smirked knowingly, glancing in the direction Y/N had been looking. “You’ve been quiet. Not like you.”

“I’m just… tired,” Y/N lied, taking a sip of her wine to mask her unease.

“Right,” Irene said, her tone suggesting she didn’t believe a word of it. But she didn’t push, instead steering the conversation back toward lighter topics.

As the group dissolved into another round of jokes, Y/N laughed along, though the sound felt hollow in her chest. Her gaze drifted back toward Roseanne again, unbidden, and she caught a fleeting moment where their eyes met across the room. Roseanne’s expression softened, a flicker of something Y/N couldn’t quite name crossing her features before she turned back to Jennie.

Y/N tore her gaze away, her pulse quickening. She could feel the weight of her unresolved emotions settling over her like a heavy blanket. No amount of light conversation or laughter could dull it, no matter how much she tried.

Their first exchange of the evening came unexpectedly. Y/N was returning from the kitchen with a glass of water, her fingers cool against the condensation on the glass, when she turned a corner and nearly collided with someone.

“Sorry—” she began instinctively, but the words caught in her throat as she looked up.

It was Roseanne.

Y/N’s breath hitched as her eyes met Roseanne’s, a rush of familiarity crashing over her like a wave. Roseanne stood close, too close, her floral perfume filling the small space between them. It was the same scent Y/N remembered from countless quiet mornings and shared embraces, stirring memories she had worked so hard to bury.

“Hey,” Roseanne said quietly, her voice low and tentative.

The single syllable felt like a thread pulling at Y/N’s carefully stitched-together composure. “Hi,” she managed, though her pulse quickened as if her body had yet to catch up with her calm tone.

For a moment, they simply stood there, caught in a silent bubble that felt removed from the laughter and music echoing through the villa. The air between them was charged, thick with unspoken words and emotions that neither seemed ready to voice.

Roseanne’s eyes softened, something unreadable flickering across her features as she looked at Y/N. There was a tension in her expression, a hesitance that belied the confidence she carried so effortlessly in front of others.

“You look…” Roseanne began, pausing briefly as if searching for the right words. “Good.” Her tone was careful, almost fragile, as though testing the waters of an unfamiliar sea.

Y/N’s lips curved into a faint smile, though her grip on the glass in her hand tightened. “Thanks. You too,” she replied, her voice quieter than she intended.

Roseanne’s gaze lingered for a moment longer before flicking to the glass in Y/N’s hand. She shifted slightly, stepping back enough to give Y/N space to pass. The sound of laughter from the living room spilled into the hallway, breaking the fragile stillness between them.

Y/N hesitated, her feet rooted to the spot for a fraction of a second longer than necessary. She wanted to say something, anything, to fill the silence. But her mind was a jumble of racing thoughts and emotions she couldn’t untangle.

Roseanne broke the moment with a small, almost shy smile. “It’s… good to see you.”

The words hit Y/N harder than she expected, a bittersweet pang settling in her chest. She nodded, her own smile faint. “You too.”

And then it was over.

Y/N stepped past her, her footsteps steady but her heart pounding in disarray. She didn’t dare look back, but she felt Roseanne’s gaze on her as she walked away, a weight she couldn’t ignore.

As she reentered the lively atmosphere of the living room, the hum of conversation and music felt distant, muffled against the storm brewing inside her. The brief exchange played over and over in her mind, a kaleidoscope of emotions she couldn’t sort through.

The rest of the evening passed in a blur of half-hearted conversations and stolen glances. Y/N noticed Jennie watching them once or twice, her sharp eyes flicking between the two women with a knowing look. But Jennie said nothing, choosing instead to redirect attention when the tension threatened to become too obvious.

As the party began to wind down, Y/N found herself retreating to one of the smaller sitting rooms at the back of the villa. The cozy space was a stark contrast to the lively atmosphere outside, its dim lighting and soft furnishings offering a quiet reprieve from the noise and energy of the gathering.

She sank into a plush armchair by the window, her gaze drawn to the garden bathed in moonlight. The soft glow illuminated the neat rows of hedges and the faint silhouettes of flowers swaying gently in the night breeze. She tried to let the stillness calm her, but the ache in her chest refused to fade.

Her thoughts spiraled, unbidden and relentless, back to Roseanne. The way her eyes had softened when they met, the faint hesitance in her voice, the magnetic pull that made it impossible for Y/N to ignore her presence. Even now, two years later, Roseanne had a way of unraveling her carefully constructed defenses with nothing more than a glance.

The soft creak of the door opening broke her reverie. Y/N turned, her breath hitching as Roseanne stepped inside, her movements slow and hesitant, as though unsure of her welcome.

“Mind if I join you?” Roseanne asked, her voice barely above a whisper, fragile yet filled with something unmistakably raw.

Y/N hesitated, her chest tightening as a torrent of emotions surged within her. She wanted to say no, to shield herself from the vulnerability that Roseanne always seemed to bring out in her. But instead, she nodded.

Roseanne crossed the room, her steps tentative, and took the seat opposite Y/N. For a moment, neither of them spoke. The silence was thick, stretching between them like a chasm filled with all the words they had never said, all the emotions they had left unresolved.

“I wasn’t expecting to see you here,” Roseanne said finally, her hands resting nervously on her lap. Her gaze lingered on her fingers, which fidgeted with the hem of her sleeve, betraying her unease.

“Neither was I,” Y/N admitted, her voice soft but steady.

The corner of Roseanne’s mouth twitched, a faint, humorless smile. “Jennie invited me. I almost didn’t come.”

Y/N tilted her head slightly, curiosity flickering through her guarded expression. “Why?”

Roseanne looked up, her eyes shimmering with vulnerability. Her voice, when she spoke, was barely audible. “Because I wasn’t sure I could handle seeing you.”

The raw honesty of her words hit Y/N like a blow, her breath catching in her throat. She looked down at her hands, which were clasped tightly in her lap, and swallowed hard. “Rosie…” she began, but the words faltered. She didn’t know what to say.

Roseanne leaned back slightly, her gaze distant. “I thought it would get easier,” she said quietly. “You know… being apart. But it hasn’t. Not for me.”

The confession sent a fresh wave of emotion crashing over Y/N. She felt her chest tighten, her heart pounding in a chaotic rhythm as she grappled with her feelings. For two years, she had tried to convince herself that moving on was the right thing, that their love had been too fractured to fix. And yet, sitting here now, facing the woman she had never truly stopped loving, those justifications felt hollow.

“I miss you,” Roseanne said suddenly, her voice steady despite the vulnerability in her words. They hung in the air between them, sharp and piercing, cutting through the layers of silence and unresolved tension.

Y/N’s breath hitched. She had imagined this moment countless times, wondering what it would feel like to hear those words again. But now that they were here, she felt unmoored, adrift in a sea of conflicting emotions.

“I—” she began, her voice trembling. She looked away, her gaze fixed on the window. The garden beyond blurred into a hazy smear of moonlight and shadow.

“I’m not saying it to make things harder,” Roseanne continued, her voice soft but firm. “I just… needed you to know. Even if it doesn’t change anything.”

Y/N closed her eyes, her chest aching as the weight of Roseanne’s words settled over her. Memories flooded her mind, of quiet nights spent wrapped in each other’s arms, of shared laughter, of whispered promises that had once felt unbreakable. She forced herself to speak, her voice barely above a whisper.

“Rosie, I…” she trailed off, shaking her head. Her fingers gripped the arms of the chair, as if anchoring herself. “I don’t know what to say.”

Roseanne nodded slowly, her lips curving into a sad, resigned smile. “You don’t have to say anything.”

The silence that followed was deafening, filled with the unspoken weight of their shared history. Y/N’s mind raced with everything she wanted to say but couldn’t, words of longing, regret, and a love that refused to fade no matter how hard she tried to let go.

Finally, Y/N stood, her movements deliberate but heavy. “I should get back to the party,” she said quietly, the words feeling like a lie even as she said them.

Roseanne’s expression fell, her hands tightening briefly in her lap before she nodded. Her voice was small, almost broken, as she replied, “Yeah. Of course.”

Y/N hesitated, lingering for a moment longer than she should have. She wanted to reach out, to touch Roseanne’s hand, to say something that might ease the ache in both their hearts. But the weight of the past, the wounds they had inflicted on each other, kept her rooted in place.

As she turned and left the room, her chest ached with the weight of what had just transpired. The conversation played over in her mind, raw and unresolved, as she rejoined the others. Her steps felt heavier with each stride, as though she were walking away from more than just the room.

And behind her, Roseanne sat alone, her gaze fixed on the empty chair Y/N had left behind.

November brought with it the icy chill of Seoul’s late autumn, the sharp air cutting through Y/N’s layers as she returned home one evening. She had spent the day busying herself with errands and work, the usual distractions that helped her keep her thoughts at bay. But as she set her keys down on the kitchen counter, her phone buzzed on the table, breaking the silence.

Her brow furrowed as she glanced at the screen, an unfamiliar number lighting up the notification. Hesitantly, she picked up the phone and opened the message.

“Hi, Y/N. It’s Roseanne. I’ve been battling myself since the party, wondering if I should send you this. But I just released a new song, and I wrote it thinking of you. It says everything I wish I could say to you.”

A link was attached to the text. Y/N stared at the message, her heart thundering in her chest. Her mind raced, a thousand thoughts swirling as she debated what to do.

Her finger hovered over the link, the urge to ignore it battling with her insatiable curiosity. After a moment that felt like an eternity, she tapped it, the familiar interface of her music app opening.

The title stared back at her ‘Number One Girl’

Y/N pressed play, the first delicate notes filling the quiet room. The melody was hauntingly beautiful, wrapping around her like an embrace she wasn’t sure she could accept. Her chest tightened as the vulnerability in the music seeped into her.

And then Roseanne’s voice broke through, achingly familiar, raw, and heartbreakingly sincere.

“Tell me that I’m special, tell me I look pretty Tell me I’m a little angel, sweetheart of your city Say what I’m dying to hear, ‘Cause I’m dying to hear you”

The first line hit like a whisper of the past, bringing with it an ache so profound that Y/N almost couldn’t breathe. Her breath caught in her throat, her fingers trembling as she set her phone down on the table, afraid that holding it might somehow shatter her already fragile composure.

Each word unfolded like a confession, pulling at the threads of emotions she had spent two years trying to suppress. Y/N blinked rapidly, her vision blurring as her heart began to pound in her chest.

And then the chorus rose, swelling with a desperation that mirrored the turmoil inside her. “Isn’t it lonely? I’d do anything to make you want me I’d give it all up if you told me that I’d be The number one girl in your eyes”

The room seemed to tilt, the raw longing in Roseanne’s voice cutting through Y/N like a blade. She closed her eyes, gripping the edge of the table for support as waves of emotions crashed over her.

Memories surged, vivid and unrelenting.

She saw Roseanne standing in their kitchen, her hair tied back in a loose bun, laughing as she tried and failed to flip a pancake. She felt the warmth of Roseanne’s hands cupping her cheeks, the softness of her whispered reassurances on nights when Y/N doubted herself. She heard their shared laughter, the sound ringing in her ears like a melody she thought she’d forgotten.

But just as quickly, the memories turned darker, cutting deeper. She remembered the arguments, the way Roseanne’s voice would crack with frustration, and the empty space on the couch between them that seemed to grow wider with each passing day.

The next verse hit with a different intensity, each line unraveling another thread of Y/N’s carefully constructed resolve. “Tell me that you need me, tell me that I’m loved Tell me that I’m worth it, and that I’m enough”

Y/N’s fingers trembled against the table, her vision swimming with tears. Roseanne’s words felt like a mirror to everything she had longed to hear during their relationship, the words that could have bridged the growing distance between them but had always remained unspoken.

Her chest ached as she let the lyrics wash over her. The raw yearning in Roseanne’s voice wasn’t just an echo of the past. It was a reflection of Y/N’s own buried feelings, the ones she had been too scared to admit even to herself.

“I need it and I don’t know why This late at night”

A sob broke free from her chest, unbidden and raw. She pressed a hand to her mouth, as if to stifle the sound, but it was no use. Her tears fell freely now, each lyric prying open the wounds she had tried so desperately to heal.

The vulnerability in Roseanne’s voice was overwhelming. It wasn’t just a song. It was a plea, a confession, a love letter written in melodies and aching words. Y/N’s heart twisted painfully, caught between the sweetness of what they had shared and the bitterness of what they had lost.

By the time the bridge arrived, Roseanne’s voice softened into a near whisper, as if speaking directly to Y/N. “The girl in your eyes, the girl in your eyes Tell me I’m the number one girl I’m the number one girl in your eyes…”

Y/N clutched at her chest, the weight of the lyrics pressing down on her until it felt like she might break apart. The words echoed in her mind, intertwining with the memory of Roseanne’s gaze at the party, the vulnerability in her eyes, the quiet longing in her voice when she had said, “I miss you.”

As the final note faded, the silence that followed felt deafening. Y/N sat motionless, her chest heaving as she tried to steady her breath. Her phone screen dimmed, leaving the room bathed in a faint glow, but the echoes of Roseanne’s voice lingered like a ghost, haunting and inescapable.

The lyrics repeated in her mind, intertwining with the memories she thought she had buried. “I’d give it all up if you told me that I’d be the number one girl in your eyes”

It was too much. The dam of emotions she had held back for so long had finally burst, and Y/N found herself sobbing into her hands, her tears falling hot and fast. Roseanne’s words, her voice, her love, they had stripped away every wall Y/N had built, leaving her raw and exposed.

Y/N stared at her phone, her chest heaving as she tried to steady her breath. Roseanne’s message replayed in her mind “I wrote it for you. It says everything I wish I could say to you.”

A part of her wanted to ignore it, to leave the song and the emotions it stirred behind. But the truth was undeniable, she couldn’t escape the feelings she had buried, the love she had tried so hard to let go of.

She stood abruptly, pacing the length of her kitchen as her thoughts raced. Her pulse thundered in her ears, her mind replaying Roseanne’s voice over and over. She thought of the party a month ago, the way Roseanne had looked at her, the quiet vulnerability in her words.

Y/N stopped pacing, her breath uneven as she gripped her phone tightly. Her heart pounded in her chest, the echoes of Roseanne’s voice still ringing in her ears. She couldn’t avoid this anymore. She didn’t want to.

Her thumb hovered over her screen, trembling as she scrolled through her contacts. Her vision blurred with unshed tears, and for a moment, she hesitated, her finger pausing over Jennie’s name. What would she even say? The weight of everything she was feeling threatened to pull her under, but the thought of letting this moment slip away was unbearable.

She pressed the call button before she could talk herself out of it. The line rang twice, each chime a painful reminder of the enormity of what she was about to do.

Jennie’s voice came through, warm and tinged with curiosity. “Y/N? What’s going on?”

Y/N exhaled shakily, her words spilling out in a rush before she could second-guess them. “I need Roseanne’s address.”

There was a brief silence on the other end, the kind that felt heavy with unspoken questions. Jennie’s voice softened when she spoke again, now laced with concern. “Wait… What? Y/N, are you okay?”

“I don’t know,” Y/N admitted, her voice cracking as the vulnerability she’d been holding back spilled over. She ran a hand through her hair, the motion almost frantic as she struggled to keep her emotions in check. “I just… I need to see her, Jennie. Please.”

The words hung in the air, raw and desperate. Y/N’s chest ached with the weight of them, as if saying them aloud had made her emotions even more real.

Jennie sighed on the other end, her usual playfulness absent. Instead, her tone was calm, understanding. “Alright,” she said gently, her words like a lifeline. “Give me a minute, and I’ll send it to you.”

The line went dead, leaving Y/N alone in the silence of her apartment once more. She lowered the phone, her fingers trembling as she stared at it. A mix of fear and anticipation churned in her stomach. What would Roseanne say? Would she even want to see her?

A soft chime broke her thoughts, signaling Jennie’s text. The notification lit up her screen, and there it was. Roseanne’s address. Y/N stared at it for a moment, her heart pounding so loudly it drowned out everything else.

She didn’t hesitate. The moment her resolve solidified, she grabbed her coat and keys from the counter. Her movements were hurried but deliberate, each step toward the door feeling like a step closer to something she couldn’t let slip away.

As she reached for the doorknob, a million thoughts raced through her mind, what she would say, what she hoped Roseanne might say, the fear that this might all backfire. But none of it mattered. She had to see her.

It was time to face Roseanne.

The drive to Roseanne’s apartment was a blur. Y/N barely registered the passing city lights or the soft hum of the radio. Her mind was a whirlwind of emotions, the weight of what lay ahead pressing down on her chest.

When Y/N arrived, she parked her car along the curb and turned off the engine. The street was quiet, bathed in the soft glow of streetlights that reflected off the sleek facade of the building. She gripped the steering wheel tightly, her knuckles white as she stared up at the familiar structure.

The sight of it brought a wave of bittersweet memories crashing over her, each one more vivid than the last. She remembered the first time she had stepped through those doors, her heart fluttering with nervous excitement as Roseanne had shyly handed her a set of keys. She remembered lazy Sunday mornings spent on the balcony with coffee and laughter, and quiet evenings where they had shared their dreams and fears in whispers.

But she also remembered the silence. The heavy, suffocating silence that had grown between them toward the end. The fights that left her feeling like a stranger in her own home. The day she had walked out for the last time, her heart breaking as she closed the door behind her.

Why would Roseanne still live here?

The question gnawed at her, twisting her stomach into knots. She had expected Roseanne to move on, to leave this place behind along with all the memories they had created together. It would have been easier, wouldn’t it? To start fresh somewhere else, away from the ghosts of what they used to be.

And yet, she was still here. In the apartment they had once called home.

The thought both comforted and unnerved Y/N. Did it mean Roseanne hadn’t let go either? Or was this just another sign of the emotional mess they had left behind, a mess Y/N wasn’t sure she was ready to face?

Her chest tightened as the lyrics to Roseanne’s song replayed in her mind, soft and haunting. “Tell me that you need me, tell me that I’m loved…”

A lump formed in her throat, and she blinked rapidly to hold back the tears threatening to spill. She had to pull herself together. Turning back wasn’t an option, not now.

With a deep, steadying breath, she pushed open the car door and stepped out into the cool night air.

The lobby was eerily quiet, save for the faint hum of the elevator. The familiar scent of the polished floors and the soft lighting triggered another wave of nostalgia. She hesitated as she reached for the elevator button, her hand trembling slightly.

What if this was a mistake?

The doors slid open with a soft chime, and she stepped inside, pressing the button for Roseanne’s floor. The ride felt interminable, each floor passing with a low hum that seemed to echo her racing heartbeat. Her reflection stared back at her in the polished metal doors, her wide eyes betraying the nerves she was trying to suppress.

Her thoughts raced as the elevator ascended. What would Roseanne say when she saw her? Would she be angry? Hurt? Would she even want to see her at all?

Y/N’s breath hitched as the elevator came to a stop. The doors slid open, and she stepped into the hallway. Her footsteps echoed softly against the carpeted floor as she approached Roseanne’s apartment.

When she finally reached the door, her breath caught.

She stared at it, her hand hovering just above the wood. Her chest tightened as a flood of memories washed over her.

This was once her home too. She could still remember the countless times she had walked through this door, arms full of groceries, laughing at one of Roseanne’s jokes. She remembered sneaking in quietly after a late night out, trying not to wake Roseanne, only to find her sitting on the couch, waiting with a teasing smile.

The familiarity of it all stirred a mix of dread and hope, a potent cocktail of emotions that left her feeling both exhilarated and terrified.

Her hand lingered over the door, her fingers trembling as she fought the urge to turn back. But then she thought of Roseanne’s voice, soft and vulnerable in her message. “I wrote it thinking of you. It says everything I wish I could say to you.”

Y/N closed her eyes, inhaling deeply as she tried to steady herself.

With a shaky exhale, she finally knocked.

The seconds that followed felt like an eternity. Each heartbeat thundered in Y/N’s chest as she stood frozen, staring at the door. Then, she heard the faint shuffle of footsteps on the other side, the sound growing louder, closer. The door creaked open.

Roseanne stood there, her eyes widening in shock. She was dressed casually in an oversized sweater and leggings, her hair pulled back into a loose bun with a few stray strands framing her delicate face. She looked softer than Y/N had remembered, her usual polished elegance replaced by something quieter, more vulnerable.

For a moment, neither of them spoke. The air between them felt heavy, electric, charged with surprise and the weight of everything left unsaid.

“Y/N,” Roseanne finally said, her voice soft and trembling, laced with disbelief. Her lips parted as though she wanted to say more but couldn’t find the words.

Y/N’s breath caught. Seeing Roseanne this close again, seeing the faint shimmer in her eyes, the way her features softened with emotions she couldn’t hide, was almost too much. The lump in Y/N’s throat made it difficult to speak, her voice barely above a whisper as she managed, “I needed to see you.”

Her words hung in the air, tentative and raw.

Roseanne blinked, her lips pressing together for a moment before she stepped back, silently motioning for Y/N to come in. Y/N hesitated for a fraction of a second before stepping over the threshold, her chest tightening as the familiar space enveloped her.

As the door clicked shut behind her, Roseanne turned slowly, her movements deliberate, as if trying to gather her composure. Her expression was a mix of confusion, hesitation, and vulnerability. Her voice trembled when she spoke. “Why now?” she asked, the faintest crack in her words betraying the storm beneath her calm.

Y/N’s eyes darted around the room, taking in the remnants of a life they had once shared. She finally looked back at Roseanne, her own chest tightening as the weight of the moment pressed down on her. “Because I heard your song,” she admitted, her voice raw, barely above a whisper. She took a shaky breath, her emotions spilling over as she continued, “And it made me realize I can’t keep running from this. From us.”

Roseanne’s breath hitched audibly, her eyes softening with a mix of relief and longing. “I wasn’t sure if I should send it,” she confessed, her hands fidgeting nervously at her sides. “I didn’t even know if you’d listen.” Her voice broke slightly on the last word, and she quickly looked away, as if afraid of what Y/N might say next.

Y/N stepped closer, the storm of emotions inside her building with every second. Her voice was steadier now, though the tears threatening to fall betrayed the fragility beneath. “How could I not?” she asked, her gaze locking with Roseanne’s. “Rosie, that song…” She trailed off, shaking her head as tears began to well in her eyes. “It was everything I’ve been feeling. Everything I couldn’t say. Every word…” Her voice broke, and she lifted a hand to wipe at her cheek.

Roseanne’s composure cracked at the sight of Y/N’s tears. Her own eyes glistened as she whispered, “I never stopped loving you.” Her voice broke completely, her vulnerability laid bare. “I couldn’t let you go, Y/N. I tried, but I just couldn’t.”

The words hit Y/N like a tidal wave, each one crashing against the walls she had so carefully built around her heart. She inhaled sharply, her emotions finally spilling over. “Neither could I,” she admitted, her voice trembling as tears slid down her cheeks. “But, Rosie, we hurt each other so much. We broke each other.” Her voice cracked, and she shook her head, the memories of their arguments and silences cutting deep.

“I know,” Roseanne said, her voice barely audible. She stepped closer, her hands trembling as she reached out tentatively, as if afraid Y/N might pull away. Her fingers brushed Y/N’s lightly before she looked up, her gaze filled with raw emotion. “Do you know why I never sold this place?”

Y/N shook her head slowly, her tears falling freely now.

“Because I couldn’t,” Roseanne confessed, her voice thick with emotion. Her hands trembled at her sides, and her eyes shone with tears she no longer tried to hide. Her voice broke as she continued, “It was the last thing that reminded me of you. Every corner, every shadow, it’s all you, Y/N. I couldn’t let go completely. I didn’t want to.”

The raw honesty in Roseanne’s words sent a fresh wave of emotion crashing through Y/N. Her chest tightened painfully, the magnitude of Roseanne’s confession wrapping around her like a vice. She saw it now, not just the apartment but the weight of two years’ worth of longing and grief that Roseanne had carried within these walls.

Y/N stepped closer, her own tears spilling over as her hand reached out, trembling as her fingers brushed against Roseanne’s. The warmth of the touch was both grounding and electrifying, a reminder of all they had been and all they could still be.

Her voice was soft, breaking with both love and sorrow. “Rosie, I love you. I’ve never stopped loving you.” She paused, her breath catching. “But we’re not the same people we were two years ago. I’m not the same person who walked out that door.”

Roseanne nodded slowly, her gaze locked on Y/N’s as a tear slipped down her cheek. “I know,” she said, her voice trembling but resolute. She swallowed hard, her next words laced with both desperation and determination. “But I’ll do anything to make this work. Anything, Y/N. I’ll leave the industry if I have to. I’ll give it all up for you.” Her voice cracked on the last word, her vulnerability laid bare. She hesitated, her lips trembling before she added, “You’re the love of my life.”

Y/N’s breath hitched at the sheer sincerity in Roseanne’s voice. Her chest ached with the weight of it, her heart swelling and breaking all at once. She shook her head, her voice firm but gentle. “Don’t be stupid, Rosie. I don’t want you to give up your dreams. That’s not what this is about.”

Roseanne’s brows furrowed, confusion and frustration flickering across her face. She let out a soft, shuddering breath as her hands fidgeted at her sides. “Then what is it about?” she asked, her voice rising slightly with desperation. “Tell me what I need to do, Y/N. Please.”

Y/N took another step closer, their hands brushing again as she steadied herself. She met Roseanne’s gaze, her own eyes filled with unshed tears, and spoke with a steadiness she hadn’t known she was capable of. “It’s about us,” she said softly, the weight of the words heavy between them. “It’s about us trying again. But only if we promise to try as hard as we can. To be better. To communicate better. To really be there for each other this time.”

Roseanne stared at her, the tears on her cheeks catching the soft light of the room. She nodded quickly, her lips trembling as a sob broke free. “I’ll try,” she said, her voice filled with conviction. “I’ll do anything, Y/N. I swear. Just… just don’t walk away again.”

Y/N took a deep breath, her heart pounding as she closed the remaining distance between them. She cupped Roseanne’s face in her hands, her touch gentle yet firm, anchoring them both in the moment. “You’re the love of my life too, Rosie,” she whispered, her voice breaking with emotion. “And I want us to have a second chance. I need us to have a second chance.”

Roseanne leaned into Y/N’s touch, her tears mingling with a soft, shaky laugh that sounded like relief and joy all at once. “I won’t let you down this time,” she promised, her voice trembling but steady.

Y/N smiled through her tears, the weight of her emotions making her chest feel both heavy and impossibly light at the same time. Her heart ached, not with pain but with a bittersweet mix of hope and love that surged through her like a tide. She took a hesitant step closer, then another, until the distance between them was gone, her movements careful yet certain.

Her gaze lingered on Roseanne’s face, drinking in every detail, the glistening trail of tears on her cheeks, the way her lips trembled with unspoken emotion, the soft vulnerability in her eyes that mirrored everything Y/N felt.

Roseanne’s breath hitched as Y/N thumb swept gently across her skin, wiping away a tear that had just begun to fall. Roseanne leaned into the touch, her eyes fluttering shut for a brief moment as if savoring the warmth and familiarity.

“Rosie,” Y/N whispered, her voice trembling but filled with quiet conviction. Her other hand found its way to Roseanne’s waist, her touch light but grounding, as though she needed to anchor herself in this moment. ��I’m here. I’m really here.”

Roseanne’s eyes opened, shimmering with unshed tears, and a small, breathless laugh escaped her lips. “You are,” she murmured, her voice breaking with equal parts disbelief and relief.

Y/N smiled again, her own tears spilling over as she closed the final gap between them. Her lips met Roseanne’s in a kiss that was as soft as it was intense, a tender connection charged with the weight of everything they had been through.

The world seemed to fall away as they melted into each other, the kiss carrying all the emotions they couldn’t put into words. It was an apology, a promise, a plea for forgiveness and a vow to try again, all wrapped into a single moment.

Y/N’s hand moved from Roseanne’s cheek to the back of her neck, her fingers threading gently through the loose strands of hair as she deepened the kiss. Roseanne responded instantly, her hands coming up to rest on Y/N’s shoulders, pulling her closer as if afraid to let her go.

Their breaths mingled, warm and uneven, as the kiss lingered. It wasn’t hurried or frantic, it was deliberate, filled with the kind of love that had never truly left them, even in their time apart.

When they finally pulled apart, their foreheads rested against each other’s, their breaths coming in soft, shaky exhales. Y/N let out a quiet laugh, a sound that was equal parts relief and joy, her eyes still glistening with tears.

“You’re everything to me, Rosie,” she whispered, her voice breaking. “And this… this feels like coming home.”

Roseanne’s lips curved into a trembling smile, her eyes shining with love as she whispered back, “You are my home, Y/N. You always have been.”

“You’ll always have been and always will be my number one girl,” Y/N murmured, her voice filled with warmth and love.

Roseanne's eyes were shining with the same emotion. “And you’ll always be mine.”

They stayed like that for a moment, wrapped in each other’s presence, the air between them charged with the promise of a new beginning.

The morning sun filtered through the windows of Roseanne’s apartment, casting warm, golden light across the living room. Y/N stood in the kitchen, her hands wrapped around a steaming mug of coffee, the comforting aroma filling the air. The space felt alive again, less like a shell of old memories and more like a place where something new could grow.

Roseanne’s voice echoed faintly from the bedroom as she hummed a soft tune, her guitar resting on her lap. Y/N couldn’t help but smile as she listened, the sound stirring a warmth in her chest she hadn’t felt in a long time.

A soft scratching noise at the door interrupted her thoughts, and Y/N froze, her heart skipping a beat. It was a sound she knew all too well.

“Rosie,” she called out, setting her mug down on the counter. “Did you hear that?”

Roseanne’s humming stopped, and moments later, she appeared in the doorway, her expression already softening. “Oh,” she said, her voice tinged with surprise and a smile tugging at her lips. “That must be Hank.”

Y/N’s breath caught as Roseanne moved to the door, her movements fluid and familiar. When she opened it, Alice stood on the other side, holding Hank’s leash. The little dog was already bouncing excitedly, his tail wagging furiously.

Alice glanced at Y/N, her eyes widening briefly before a knowing grin spread across her face. “Oh,” she said, her tone teasing. “Y/N. You’re here.”

Y/N felt her cheeks flush, but Alice didn’t linger, her voice brisk as she handed over the leash. “Later, Rosie, I want details. Everything. But I’ve got to go. I’m running late!”

Roseanne laughed, rolling her eyes affectionately as Alice gave her a quick hug and a pointed look before rushing down the hall, Rosie calling her back, “Thank you for taking care of him!”

The door closed, and the apartment fell silent again. Hank, however, was anything but calm. The moment he spotted Y/N, he froze, his tail pausing mid-wag as his dark eyes locked onto her.

“Hank,” Y/N whispered, her voice trembling. She crouched down instinctively, her hands outstretched as the dog’s tail began wagging furiously.

With an excited bark, Hank bolted toward her, his little body vibrating with enthusiasm. Y/N laughed through her tears as he jumped into her arms, his paws pressing against her chest as he licked her face.

“Hey, buddy,” she said, her voice breaking as she hugged him tightly. “I missed you so much.”

Roseanne leaned against the doorframe, her arms crossed over her chest, watching the reunion with a smile that was equal parts fondness and relief. “I wasn’t sure if he’d remember you,” she said softly.

Y/N looked up at her, tears streaming down her cheeks as Hank nestled into her arms. “How could he forget?” she said, her voice thick with emotion. She scratched behind Hank’s ears, her gaze shifting back to the little dog who was now happily curled against her.

Roseanne stepped closer, crouching down beside them. She reached out to ruffle Hank’s fur, her hand brushing against Y/N’s in the process. Their eyes met briefly, and the shared emotion in the moment said more than words ever could.

“Hank’s missed you,” Roseanne said quietly, her voice warm. “He hasn’t been the same since you left.”

Y/N pressed her lips together, her heart aching at the thought. “I missed him too,” she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. “I missed everything.”

Roseanne’s hand lingered on Hank’s fur, her fingers brushing Y/N’s again. “Well,” she said, her voice steady but filled with tenderness, “you don’t have to miss it anymore. You’re here now.”

The words settled between them, a quiet promise of the new life they were building together. Hank let out a contented sigh, curling up against Y/N’s lap as if to say he wasn’t letting her go again either.

Y/N leaned her head against Roseanne’s shoulder, her tears falling freely now, but they weren’t tears of sadness. They were tears of hope, of love, and of finally finding her way back home.

The brisk chill of January had settled over Seoul, bringing with it the magic of a new year. The streets were lined with faintly glowing lights, and a dusting of snow covered the sidewalks like a soft, white blanket. The world seemed quieter, more reflective, as if everyone were holding their breath for what the future might bring.

Y/N adjusted the hem of her coat as she stepped into Jennie’s home, the warmth of the interior immediately enveloping her. She looked over at Roseanne, whose hand was intertwined with hers, and felt a familiar surge of emotion she hadn’t yet grown used to, love, steady and unwavering, filling the spaces she had once thought were irreparably broken.

Jennie greeted them with a grin as wide as the moon, her dark eyes sparkling with delight. “There they are!” she exclaimed, her voice cutting through the hum of conversation in the room. “Our favorite reunited couple!”

Y/N laughed softly, cheeks flushing as Roseanne gave her hand a reassuring squeeze.

“Hey, don’t make it weird,” Y/N teased, but Jennie was already pulling them into a warm hug, one arm around each of their shoulders.

“I’m just happy to see you both like this,” Jennie said, her voice softer now as she stepped back. She gave them a knowing look, her gaze flicking between them. “It’s about time, isn’t it?”

Roseanne smiled, her cheeks tinged pink, but she didn’t let go of Y/N’s hand. “It is,” she said simply, and the way she looked at Y/N made Jennie’s knowing expression turn into a broad, satisfied grin.

The party was intimate, filled with close friends who were eager to celebrate Jennie’s birthday. Familiar faces mingled throughout the room. The atmosphere was warm and lively, the clinking of glasses and soft bursts of laughter weaving a comforting backdrop.

Y/N noticed the glances at first, brief, curious looks from friends who hadn’t seen her and Roseanne together in years. But as the evening went on, those glances turned into warm smiles, nods of approval, and even a few heartfelt words of support.

“You two look good together,” Jihyo said at one point, her tone light but genuine.

“Thank you,” Y/N replied, her smile shy but radiant as she glanced at Roseanne, who returned her look with a fondness that made her chest flutter.

Roseanne stayed close by her side throughout the evening, her hand finding Y/N’s every so often in a small, grounding gesture. It was subtle but reassuring, a silent promise that they were in this together.

As the night wore on, they found themselves sitting together on the couch, sharing quiet laughs as they watched Jennie cut her cake. The warmth in the room felt like a reflection of their own hearts, fragile yet hopeful.

Later that night, Y/N and Roseanne returned to Roseanne’s apartment, their steps slow and unhurried as they shed their coats and boots. The quiet of the space was a welcome reprieve from the liveliness of the party, and the faint glow of the city lights outside painted the room in soft hues.

They made their way to the bedroom, the familiar coziness wrapping around them like an embrace. Y/N slipped under the covers, her body instantly relaxing against the warmth of the sheets. Roseanne joined her moments later, their movements fluid and practiced, as though they had never spent two years apart.

The quiet was companionable, filled with the unspoken understanding that had grown between them in the weeks since they had reconciled. Y/N turned onto her side, facing Roseanne, whose soft features were illuminated by the faint moonlight filtering through the window.

“I’m glad we went tonight,” Y/N said softly, her voice breaking the silence.

“Me too,” Roseanne replied, her gaze steady as she reached out to brush a stray strand of hair from Y/N’s face. Her touch lingered, her fingers tracing a gentle line along Y/N’s cheek.

Y/N caught her hand, holding it against her face as her eyes searched Roseanne’s. “Do you think this time will be different?” she asked, her voice quiet but tinged with vulnerability.

Roseanne nodded, her expression earnest. “I know it will be,” she said, her tone firm but warm. “Because we’re different now. We’ve learned what it means to really love someone, and I think we’re finally ready to do it the right way.”

Y/N felt her chest tighten, not with sadness but with the overwhelming weight of Roseanne’s sincerity. “I want that too,” she said, her voice breaking slightly. “I want us to keep growing. To be better. Together.”

Roseanne smiled, her eyes shimmering as she leaned forward to press a soft kiss to Y/N’s forehead. “We will,” she whispered, her voice filled with quiet determination. “I promise you, Y/N. We’ll keep fighting for this. For us.”

Y/N nodded, her tears spilling over as she smiled through them. She tightened her hold on Roseanne’s hand, their fingers lacing together in a silent vow.

They lay like that for a while, their hands clasped between them, their gazes steady as they talked softly about their future. They spoke of dreams, small ones, big ones, and everything in between. Y/N confessed her fears, and Roseanne countered them with reassurances. Roseanne shared her hopes, and Y/N listened with an open heart, letting each word settle deep inside her.

As the night wore on, their words grew quieter, their breaths slowing in unison. They didn’t need grand gestures or elaborate promises. This moment, their hands intertwined, their hearts aligned, was enough.

[endless-ineffabilities]

Double-Edged Seduction (a Chemical Override minishot)

Ewan Mitchell x actress!reader

a/n: as requested! Set in the current chem ov timeline.

series masterlist ▪︎ main masterlist

The reader's top secret campaign is officially launched.

Matty

"So? How's the missus?" Max, Fabien's brother, asks as Matt rejoins the table.

The brothers and Matthew decided to meet up at a bar in the Soho area of London. As with every reunion, the conversation inevitably turned to their current romantic interests.

Matt had excused himself and walked out back when you called, unable to suppress the grin spreading across his face. That same smile still lingers as he takes his seat. Max and Fabien exchange knowing glances, clearly noticing the impact you have on him.

"Look at the lad's face. He's smitten to bits, isn't he?" Max teases, nudging Fabien to join him. Fabien merely shakes his head with a smirk, taking a long drag of his beer - he knows it's not all cut and dry, not when Ewan's in the picture.

Oblivious to the underlying tension, Max continues, "I've met her at your party, right? She's the new actress in your show?"

Matt leans forward, eager to chime in, "Yeah, she's new, but there's no shortage of talent there. She's already outshining me in our scenes!"

"Oh, I'll bet. Let's see now, hold on." Max pulls out his phone. "I'm not too familiar with her other stuff. Let me look at her IMDB or something." Then he gets to clicking, typing in your name on the search engine.

"Are you seriously Googling her?" Fabien laughs dryly. "You've met her a couple of times!"

"Yeah, yeah," Max waves him off, "just making sure that our boy Matty here is all set."

Matty? Or Ewan? Fabien thinks, but he keeps it to himself. No need to drag his brother into the drama. As it stands, the nosy guy's gonna find out eventually.

Max hums and ahs as he scrolls through your relatively brief filmography. But when he returns to the search results, he notices a series of headlines. They all seem to cover the same news: your latest Agent Provocateur campaign has just been released.

“Oh? Oh... Oh!” Max exclaims, his cheeks flushing red as he lowers his phone. “I don’t think I’m supposed to be seeing this,” he jokes with a sheepish grin.

"What the hell is going on with you?" Fabien laughs, but it quickly fades when Max shows him the news headline.

"Hey, now," Matt says, "if this is about my girl then I should be the one to see this."

And he does. Heat runs through Matt's body, and it isn't due to the alcohol. No, you are something far more intoxicating. He clicks on one sultry photo after another, unable to tear his eyes away from the screen. "Oh, fuck me," he mumbles weakly.

"Oh, god, his face!" Fabien exclaims. "Mate, you are so gone."

"Well, shit." Matt hands the phone back, then says in a lighthearted tone, "Don't look at that anymore. Those aren't for you."

Max raises both hands in surrender, amused.

A hush falls over the lads, which breaks when Fabien lowers his head in a fit of suppressed giggles. "Your face, Matthew!"

Matt chuckles heartily, mirroring Fabien. "Fuck, can you blame me?"

Ewan

"Hello to all, I am Josh Horowitz, here interviewing two upcoming stars of the next big franchise... well, it will be a global sensation, I'm saying it now. Jenna Ortega and Ewan Mitchell!"

Jenna and Ewan both turn to the camera, displaying grateful smiles.

"We're so happy to be here, Josh," Jenna says.

"Well, thank you for being here," Josh replies. "Ewan, how was the flight from across the pond? Do you miss it already or does LA have your heart now?"

"Flight was all good." Ewan nods, smiling. "Yeah, and I mean, LA is great, it's lovely out here for sure. But my heart remains back home, I have to say."

Donna, his publicist, stands tense behind the camera, hoping that he doesn't making any revelations regarding his lovelife. They don't need another talking-to about the conditions of his contract, especially after that whole Instagram fiasco.

Josh asks several routine questions about the upcoming film - the production process, the locations for filming, the costumes. Ewan does well, his answers full of depth, evidencing the dedicated actor that he is.

But Donna wishes he would just smile more in Jenna's direction. This is meant to be a taster of their budding relationship - what fans will look back on and deem the initial flirty stages.

Ewan is, without a shadow of a doubt, a great actor. Fantastic. A star all-around. Donna knows this well - it's the reason why she chose to represent him in the first place. But man does he suck at PR.

Josh then asks a series of rapid fire questions to test their friendship.

Where did they first meet? The director's office in LA.

When is the other's birthday? Neither gets it right, but not for lack of trying.

"Well, I'm a Libra," Jenna says, "and you're a... "

"Pisces?" Ewan answers, unsure of himself. "At least I think so. I've been told that I do act like a true Pisces."

"Oh?" Josh responds. "And Pisces and Libra... are those compatible signs?"

"I think so," Jenna glances at Ewan with a smile. "I hope so!"

"You tell me," Ewan shrugs good-naturedly. "I'm not a big astrology guy, but you know, it seems interesting."

"Okay," Josh moves on. "Last text you sent each other?"

"Oh, wow," Jenna exhales.

"I don't know, let me check," Ewan says, quickly pulling out his phone, and Jenna follows suit. "Maybe something about this interview..." he trails off, distracted by a new notification - a message from Phia that starts with SOS.

What the hell? His mind races. He glances around the room, making sure no one noticed the flicker of concern on his face, before tapping the notification to open the message.

SOS! Our girl is so damn delish!! I don't know how you can ever handle it 😫

Ewan scrolls down, and his entire body stiffens. He is overwhelmed by a mix of surprise and disbelief, yet his face remains a stony mask as he processes what he's seeing. There's a lot to take in - your figure tastefully showcased in delicate lingerie, every curve accentuated with an air of elegance and seduction. His eyes hungrily flick over the images, as he tries so hard to remain composed.

So what if this franchise basically sets up his entire career? So what if he's already signed every contract that ties him to it? And who cares if a Hollywood mogul destroys his image?

Ewan needs you.

He is also, almost certifiably, going mad.

Get it together. He tells himself.

"Ewan? Ewan?" Josh's voice cuts through, snapping him out of blissful momentary delirium. "Care to share with the class?"

"Oh, he's so out of it," Jenna laughs. "What did you find? I looked through and our last message was about this interview."

"Oh, was it now?" Josh chides. "Or did Jenna send anything particularly interesting?

"What, me? I'm the worst texter ever," Jenna replies, shaking her head. "My messages are so plain and boring."

"Oh, sorry, that was nothing." Ewan says, managing an unaffected laugh. "I just got distracted by an Oasis headine. Are you guys going to see their show this year?" He masterfully switches the subject, but his mind lingers on images of your bare skin in lace and silk and...

He crosses his legs, stretches his neck, smiles and nods at whatever the others are saying. Anything to quell that familiar grawing tension in his trousers.

Not now. He prays. Not here.

If that happens... he is well and truly fucked.

Some notes in the margins...

If anyone's got any ideas on a name for the Ewan/Jenna film, I'm all ears. Also - on Ewan's elf character name? I call him Elfmond but I think that might be too telling... hehe.

Cold showers for Mitchell in LA. A lot of cold showers.

And for Matty? 😏🤷🏻‍♀️

[cofigelly]

ೀ SIX EYES

——————————————————————————pairing; college au!gojo satoru x reader

synopsis; you couldn’t help but notice a pair of wandering eyes during your 10am lecture

word count; ~2k words

contents; sfw, f!reader, no curses au, rich college student gojo, cocky/playful gojo, six eye/infinity references

notes; THIS WAS SUPPOSED TO BE A QUICK LIL DRABBLE IDK WHAT HAPPENED? i <3 run ons and sentence fragments apparently

——————————————————————————

the first thing you noticed about him were his eyes.

well, technically, his eyes noticed you first.

in the midst of your monday 10am lecture (known for its lengthy, soul-wrenching talks about finance), you felt his sharp gaze pierce straight into your soul. it was a brief, quick glance — but it was an intentional glance, nonetheless.

you simply brushed it off. it must’ve been him zoning out, or maybe your mind was playing tricks on you. that was until you caught him repeating the same habit again. and again. over the course of the next three weeks.

that same, hungry gaze, taking in every intricacy of your features. a look that felt like it set your entire body on fire, despite the icy blue hue his pupils reflected each time you returned a glance. his stare would only last a few seconds at most, but something about it felt so intense, so overbearing— it made hold your breath each time.

in all honesty, you didn't mind the attention. in fact, you kind of reveled in it — a handsome, 6'3 guy always ogling at you every lecture. it even had you thinking that maybe he was into you?

but that was at first. as more weeks passed, the more your ego shrank. 'is there something on my face,' you wondered, patting at your cheeks to search for some sort of makeup residue or food crumb, 'do i look stupid?' the large, echoey lecture hall felt evermore revealing as you struggled to find a way to shrink into your plastic-clad seat. but you couldn't hide, not from a stare like that.

paranoia getting the best of you, you slide your phone out of your pocket as you send a hasty text to your best friend, “bro who is this guy? he keeps staring at me EVERY lecture,” you send a 0.5x photo, clearly taken from afar.

just as quickly, your friend responds, “NO FUCKIN WAY is that gojo???” “who the fuck is gojo?”

you could almost feel her attitude burst through the text bubbles, “bro… GOJO. his family is literally loaded?? did you not see his dad surpass bill gates on the global ranking of billionaires?” that text takes you a little by surprise, alternating your eyes between him and the message upon your screen. “okay maybe it’s starting to sound familiar, but still. what’s he doing cosplaying as a broke college kid in my finance class?” you sigh as you continue to tap on your screen, “idgaf that he’s loaded it’s pissing me off that he’s staring at me like 🧿🫦🧿 every lecture.”

your friend reacts with a quick “haha” to your text before responding, “idk man maybe you just caught the attention of the richest guy on campus ;)”

you decided you’ve had enough after reading that text. you’re not about to feed your delusions this early on a monday morning. you’ll admit, he’s a good —no, stunning— looking guy, but you have no time to babysit a boy who was never taught that staring was rude. not to mention, this boy isn't even in the same tax bracket as you. 

brushing it off yet another time, you let out a deep sigh as you flip the page, copying your professor’s notes on the board.

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪ ⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪ ⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪ ⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪

a whole month has passed and this gojo guy is growing more and more cocky with his stolen glances. he's not even trying to hide it anymore.

this fateful wednesday, as you walk into class, he immediately locks onto you. his bright blue orbs follow you from the door to your row, not releasing his gaze in the slightest after you settle into your seat. your grit your teeth in annoyance as you flip through your notebook pages. who does this guy think he is? it’s been a month and he hasn’t even procured the balls to say a single word to you. yet, he’s feasting on you like you’re his final meal on death row. 

the second the class is excused, you immediately beeline towards his seat — stopping in front of his leaning frame while he packs his bag. “dude, what the hell is your problem,” scowling at him as you approach, “i’ve seen you stare at me for weeks now and it’s getting straight creepy."

his ears perk at the sound of your voice, haphazardly zipping up the final pocket of his backpack. when he looks up, his eyes glint with a hint of mischief as he scrunches his nose in a grin — a grin that’s somehow even cockier than his stare.

“i’m just taking in the view, princess,” he jeers, delight in his tone. 

you stare at him incredulously as you take his confession in. so he really has been staring at you? “for one, i’m not your princess," you scoff at his clear disregard of your concern, "second, you might want to think again before you decide to stare at me one more damn time.”

he hums amusingly, shaking his foot in a steady rhythm, “you’re right. i might think about it again.” his grin is even wider now, “why, what are you going to do about it?”

“—look, i don’t know what you’re getting at,” your eyebrows furrow deeper, “but if you keep this shit up, this won’t be the last time you hear from me.”

briskly, you swing around, completely ignoring his bickers as you head straight out the hallway door. 

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪ ⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪ ⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪ ⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪

to gojo, everything you said on wednesday was music to his ears.

he strolled into the next lecture, on monday, with the same shit-eating grin on his face. ‘this wont be the last time he hears from you?' god, he hopes that was true. it made him wonder why he didn’t just stare at you harder in the first place.

everything about you captivated gojo satoru.

from the first day of lecture, he was already mesmerized — by the wafting scent of your cologne as you walked past his row, the way your head cocked to the side whenever you thought through a problem set, the distant clicks as you tapped the end of your pencil against your arm nervously.

he simply couldn’t help but steal that initial glance. he also couldn’t help but steal another one the lecture after.

and another. and another.

he knew he was getting ahead of himself, being so selfish with his dangerous stares, but you just had that effect on him. an effect that he's never experienced with anyone else. he bit back his pride when he couldn’t even approach you first, as he normally did with his prior interests.

there was just something so serene, so heavenly about you. he almost wanted to leave you undisturbed, opting to observe you from afar — not wanting to disrupt his delicate masterpiece from behind the red rope at the museum.

but the day you approached him changed everything. ‘how can someone so innocent have such a mouth on her,’ he chuckles to himself, taking his ipad and apple pencil out of his backpack before laying them flat on the table.

you were completely unlike his initial impression of you, much to his amusement. he prefers it this way —actually— he likes a girl who has a bit of a bite. besides, he finally has an excuse to talk to you and do what he knows best: get under your skin. metaphorically (and literally).

he glances at the door as he hears the familiar clanking of your keychain against your water bottle, more excited for the lecture than he's ever been before.

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪ ⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪ ⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪ ⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪

there is no fucking way.

gojo satoru is now sitting in the seat directly next to your unassigned assigned seat in this 300-person lecture hall. the entire classroom is almost packed too. how early did he have to be to even get that seat? why is he in that seat? your thoughts are cut off as he waves his hand at you, muttering a short "yoohoo~," ushering you to sit next to him.

hell no. you still have no idea what he's playing at. is he stalking you? does he have some sort of ulterior motive? what if his scary billionaire family kills you, a dirty plebeian, for sitting so close to their perfect, trust fund baby?

you immediately switch gears, practically running away to find a new seat, catching a glimpse of his pout in the corner of your eye. you ignore him and situate yourself in the very front row, directly in front of the professor's podium. you let out a deep exhale as you unpack your notebook when you hear a loud shuffle next to you.

this guy has no shame.

gojo, in all his glory, happily claims the empty seat next to you —unloading the entire apple store (or so it feels like) onto the desk. "good choice, doll. more leg room up here," he stretches his long, lanky legs before crossing them — making sure his knee briefly makes contact with yours.

"are you serious right now— bro your entire apple ecosystem is getting onto my side of the desk," you scowl at him once again as you shove his macbook closer to him. "serious about what?" he mocks, that signature smile gleaming down on you.

"whatever this is? are you obsessed with me or something," you mutter the last part under your breath, but he takes note of you rolling your eyes at him. "hmmm," he taps his chin all philosophically, "if anything you're the one obsessed with me."

wow, this guy really is insane. you felt your eyebrow twitch in anger as you jerked your head up, "me obsessed with you? how does that even make any sense—" "you said you noticed me staring for weeks," he muses, still looking straight at you, "but you don't think i noticed you staring back?"

you scoff, "i was simply just returning your gaze; not everything is about you!” “untrue.”

after refusing to make eye contact, you finally meet his eyes. "i'm not gonna play this damn game with you, look—"

you've never seen him this close before. you've never seen anyone this close before, really. in this cramped lecture hall, with its seats compressed like sardines, it felt like he was only mere millimeters away from you. your breath hitched as the air seemed palpable, heavy. he was so close, but it felt like he was untouchable — almost as if an infinite void was cast between you two.

for the first time, he dropped that condescending smirk. he dropped the facade altogether. beyond the icy blue hues, his eyes glistened a shade that he only shows to you, a shade you've never noticed in all those times you two locked eyes. they were powdery blue — the same softness as the edges of the clouds in the sky or the frothy, tidal waves lightly crashing against the beach sand.

it made you wonder if it was physically possible for one person to hold so much power in just their eyes. a power that felt like three whole people, six eyes-worth, were constantly peering into every fiber of your being. except this time, it was intense in a whole different way, completely unlike before. the closest feeling you could think of was a warm oven, fresh after a batch of cookies — an inexplicable warmth in contrast to his icy appearance.

lost in each others' eyes, he parts his lips as if to finally say something—

"i would really appreciate if you two kept your eyes on the board instead of on each other," a voice boomed from the podium in front of you.

you both tense up, quickly spinning your bodies around to face the front as the snickers began to fill the classroom. you completely forgot about how close you were sitting to the professor.

you felt a tinge of heat start on your cheeks, creeping its way up onto the cartilage of your ears. the embarrassment was more than enough to shut you both up for the rest of the period, but you knew.

you knew you wanted to feel this way again.

——————————————————————————

final notes; i wrote this in my actual lecture hall instead of taking notes guys😎😎 (i am severely ill)

[transfloridaresources]

[Photo ID: A person standing in daylight amidst dark smoke holding a large, Palestinian flag that obscures their face. Black, white, green, and red text reads: 'Global Strike. Jan 21-28, 2024.' Then more text reads: 'The strongest governments and weapons manufacturers are supporting this genocide against my people, and you are our only hope! STRIKE globally and call for a ceasefire! Strike, protest, stop the economic movements and make pressure on your countries to stand against this and stop it, if ISRAhell don’t find the financial and weapons support, or governments to hide their crimes they will be forced to stop the genocide! Go to the streets, protest and Globally strike for a week, (21-28) January! YALLA Brave and free people of the world, CEASEFIRE NOW! - Bisan Owda (wizard_bisan1). January 21, 2024.' /End ID]

[Photo ID: A photo Bisan took of herself in the smudged mirror of an elevator. She's holding her phone up to face level while looking at the screen. She's wearing a bright blue PRESS helmet and a bright blue PRESS vest. Text over the photo reads: 'Now, we are without any connection, neither the internet nor the cellular, we can’t reach each other’s inside Gaza, we don’t know if our families and friends are alive or not, wounded or not.. still in their places or not! We take hours of walking and searching to reach someone, while moving became very risky! We can’t reach to you as well! The footage, information and news from Gaza are not reaching you as before because the Israeli army intentionally destroyers the signal towers and the servers, even using the E-SIM requires being in a high place which is very risky!. I borrowed this vest to upload this post! - Bisan Owda (wizard_bisan1). January 21, 2024.' /End ID]

TFR is participating in the Global Strike called upon by @wizard_bisan1 for this week. No money will be spent & Palestinian voices will continue to be boosted, alongside other resources for how to best use this week in support of pressuring for a ceasefire.

Bisan's full message from January 21, 2024:

Hi everyone, it’s Bisan from Gaza, I am still alive Alhamdullah.. it’s been 107 days of genocide, 15 weeks, 2568 hours of killing us, taking over our homes and lands in Gaza Strip, and forcing us to choose between leaving or death.. and sometimes we can’t even choose.. the Israeli air strikes simply kill us without any warnings. Now, we are without any connection, neither the internet nor the cellular, we can’t reach each other’s inside Gaza, we don’t know if our families and friends are alive or not, wounded or not.. still in their places or not! We take hours of walking and searching to reach someone, while moving became very risky! We can’t reach to you as well! The footage, information and news from Gaza are not reaching you as before because the Israeli army intentionally destroyers the signal towers and the servers, even using the E-SIM requires being in a high place which is very risky!. I borrowed this vest to upload this post! I am not scared of death, but of being displaced, scared of losing my family or friends, scared of being wounded and can’t have my treatment because the health system is collapsed in Gaza, and to die in pain! I am not scared of the destruction.. I lost my work place.. my home and my family work place and source of income, I am terrified of being killed by an occupier, and to be forgotten, one oppressed Bisan of a whole occupied people. The strongest governments and weapons manufacturers are supporting this genocide against my people, and you are our only hope! STRIKE globally and call for a ceasefire! Strike, protest, stop the economic movements and make pressure on your countries to stand against this and stop it, if ISRAhell don’t find the financial and weapons support, or governments to hide their crimes they will be forced to stop the genocide! Go to the streets, protest and Globally strike for a week, (21-28) January! YALLA Brave and free people of the world, CEASEFIRE NOW!

[nikonstudio]

Nikon Studio Global Photo Walk 2025 #4 - Argentina/Uruguay/Falkland Islands/Chile (Dec)

Just off the oven! 2025 is shaping to be quite exciting for all you NS fans! Thanks for allowing me to be part of your journey as your specialized travel companion for the last decade!

Booking is open for months I have not yet announced for 2025! 6 more slots (I rest for 2 months each year).

[liverbird87]

In exactly THAT order. The Lando photo does my head in. And again, I feel like an voyeur, entering a very private and intimate moment they accidentally shared globally because they can’t keep their hands of each other. Carlos was totally fine walking the stairs before the ceremony. He didn’t need Lando to get on the top step. What he needed was contact. And Lando, knowing Carlos so well like Carlos himself said, knew he needed the hand. To feel. Maybe grounded or whatever. They’re synced with each other. They don’t need a language. They fully needed a touch, a squeeze, intimacy and decided THAT right HERE is the perfect moment for it.

[cinnamanz]

# DARLING, I — chapter four!

when new york city’s widely-known spider-woman's life becomes unknowingly entwined with a member of the rising global girl group katseye, she learns that juggling superhero duties, university, and a sudden crush may or may not just be the downfall of her. but hey, at least she's helping people, right?

SWEET MOTHER OF CHRIST

it wasn't often that y/n went to parties, her plate was always crowded with an inordinate amount of responsibilities. if she wasn’t in the dark room or choosing photos for the yearbook and the twitter account to promote the school, she’d be out taking the subway and skateboarding down nyc to snap a photo.

then, if she wasn’t seen doing either of those things, she’d be cooped up in her room fiddling with the mixer and her ears drowning in headphones. and if she wasn’t seen doing any of those, you could most possibly-probably-definitely see her swinging around in a spandex and masking herself with her alter ego, spider-woman.

however, in the (somewhat) silence that blanketed nyc at christmas eve, she pulls herself out of bed and down the stairs. on a bright yellow sticky note stuck on the fridge door was aunt may’s handwriting. “went to feast. come drop by in the morning if you can.”

now as she pedalled along the dimly-lit streets of nyc to pick up yunjin, she couldn't help but admire how quiet the streets were, and how calmer it was at night compared to when the sun has risen and— oh, this must be it. the jolliest townhouse in the block. great.

the last time she'd gone to a part was... what, five years ago? when yunjin threw herself a graduation party which ended up with her face planting onto the floor after attempting to trust fall onto a crowd of illegally inebriated graduates.

normal yunjin party, normal yunjin shenanigans, so naturally y/n had ended up taking care of her rather than jumping the bandwagon on getting shitfaced wasted. not that she liked drinking anyway. uncle ben always shielded her from that. taught her not to turn to substances. either way, even then, she'd always been the one yunjin runs to whenever she needed looking after.

y/n locked her bike around the nearest pole, tugging at the plastic cable a few times and making sure it was fastened tightly before walking up the stairs of hyunjin's townhouse, fishing her phone out of her pocket.

as she opened the door, a strong gust of booze and weed washed over her face like a wave, nose scrunching on cue as the tight hallway of the townhouse squeezed swaying bodies together like sardines, bright flashing lights and puking people made the sight more unseemly.

"you've gotta be kidding me."

her feet found hyunjin sprawled on the couch like a starfish, eyes staring up at the ceiling absentmindedly. "hyunjin."

his eyes met y/n's for a split second, though slightly inebriated, he knew what she was here for. nodding at her before staring back at the ceiling, he responds. "upstairs. guest bathroom, i think."

as she made her way up the stairs (successfully dodging stained floorboards with puke and grinding bodies), she noticed a panicked looking brunette filing in and out of the guest bedroom.

like a moth to a flame, she couldn't help but be pulled in by the sight, a scene that stood out within the ocean of grinding skin, feet moving before she could realise, dragging her into the room and being given a full show of yunjin hunched over the toilet bowl with another woman bunching her hair up into a makeshift ponytail.

"yunjin." she'd mumbled before entering the room and moving past the brunette, leaning on the doorframe of the bathroom with a grimace. "christ."

the woman holding yunjin's hair looked up at y/n, eyes widening in unsure familiarity, and despite the loud retching and gagging by yunjin, a smile crosses her face. "hi, are you y/n?"

"uh, yeah. how long has she been throwing up?"

"like, five minutes ago? she's been mumbling your name right before she got sick."

"god. sorry, what's your name?"

"sophia. and uh, that over there is manon."

y/n whips her neck around at the mention of the brunette girl, and sweet mother of christ, she was gorgeous. a beauty carved by the greek gods themselves. yunjin's retching ricochets off the walls and y/n was forced to tear her eyes from the beauty standing behind her, kneeling down next to her childhood best friend.

"i appreciate it, sophia. thank you for looking after yunjin. i'll take over from here."

who thought getting shitfaced drunk on christmas eve was a good idea? yunjin, clearly.

ADVANCED MERRY CHRISTMAS EVERYONE!! (its already christmas for me) HAPPY HOLIDAYS GUYS

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taglist : @d1spact @yeetaberry127 @urmom2314 @lararajjj @artrizzler19 @ninguitar @ohmyhaely @firstclassjaylee @meganskiendielsbtc TAGLIST OPEN!

[cool-fancier]

Fractured Promises

Synopsis: As you wait for Lisa to come home, the weight of her absence and rising fame threatens to shatter your relationship, forcing a heart-wrenching confrontation that will change everything forever

Word Count:3k

There's a heaviness in the air as you sit on the couch, staring at the door. It's become an all-too-familiar routine—the waiting. The long hours of wondering whether tonight would be the night Lisa finally walked through that door, or if you'd fall asleep alone again, surrounded by the silence of a life once shared.

You glance at your phone—still no message. She'd said she'd be home tonight, that she missed you. That small message had tugged at your heart in ways you weren't proud of. You wanted to believe her—needed to believe her. Because that's what you had always done, even as her promises began to feel as hollow as this apartment.

Lisa wasn't the same girl she was when you first met her, and in your heart, you knew you weren't the same either. She was soaring, her name shining brighter than ever. BLACKPINK was at the pinnacle of global fame, and her solo work was rocketing her even higher. But for every inch of success she gained, it felt like you lost her a little more.

You used to laugh at the thought. The idea of losing Lisa seemed impossible. You were the person she came home to, the one who grounded her when the spotlight felt too bright. But lately, that light had drawn her so far away, you weren't even sure if she remembered what life was like outside of it.

Your thumb scrolls absentmindedly through the old photos on your phone, memories of happier times. The two of you at some tiny café in Seoul, laughing over iced coffee. Her hair was brown then, a soft shade that framed her face perfectly, making her look effortlessly stunning. Back then, her life felt more balanced. The group was busy, sure, but there was still time for you—time for both of you.

Now? Now, it was all about schedules, meetings, promotions, and collaborations. And each time you tried to talk about it, about how distant everything felt, she'd brush it off. She'd smile that familiar smile, tell you that she just needed to get through this next wave of projects and then things would be better.

But it never got better.

The sound of a key turning in the lock pulls you out of your thoughts. Your heart jumps slightly—hope, it seems, is a stubborn thing. The door opens slowly, and there she is. Lisa steps in, her brown hair loosely tied back, dressed in a casual hoodie and jeans. Her tired eyes meet yours for a brief second before she quickly looks away, closing the door behind her. The excitement you once felt when she came home has long faded into a dull ache.

You want to smile, to tell her how much you've missed her, but the words are stuck somewhere between frustration and sadness.

"Hey," she says quietly, kicking off her shoes and setting her bag down near the door.

"Hey," you reply, trying to keep your voice steady.

She hesitates for a second, glancing at you, but you can see the exhaustion in her posture, the way her shoulders slump as if the weight of the world is too much to bear. You used to be the one who helped lift that weight, but now you weren't sure she even remembered you were here.

"Long day?" you ask, though you already know the answer.

She nods, moving towards the couch but stopping short of sitting next to you. "Yeah... Jisoo, Jennie, and Rosé—they're all gearing up for a couple of new projects. We've been rehearsing nonstop."

Of course. The group. The other girls were like sisters to her, and you had always respected that. But it felt like they had become her world, leaving little room for you. And it wasn't their fault, not really. Jennie, Rosé, and Jisoo—they were her family, and in some twisted way, you envied them. They got her time, her attention, her laughter, while you were left with the fragments of whatever she had left after the world had taken its share.

You glance at her as she finally sits down at the far end of the couch, as if the space between you is safer that way.

"How was your day?" she asks, but her voice sounds distant, like she's already checked out of the conversation before it even begins.

You shrug, not wanting to get into it. Not wanting to unload the weight of your own loneliness on her shoulders when she already looks like she's carrying so much. But at the same time, the resentment builds, bubbling just beneath the surface.

"Fine, I guess," you reply, the bitterness creeping into your voice despite your efforts to keep it neutral.

She doesn't notice. Or if she does, she's too tired to care. She leans back against the couch, rubbing her temples. You watch her, wondering if you should say something—if tonight's the night you'll finally tell her how you've been feeling. How the distance between you both is growing so wide, you're not sure if you can ever close it again.

But you don't. Because you've had this conversation a hundred times in your head, and it never ends well.

Instead, you sigh quietly and stand up, heading towards the kitchen. Maybe a distraction will help. You pour a glass of water, staring at it as if the answer to all your problems might magically appear at the bottom of the glass.

Behind you, Lisa shifts on the couch, her voice soft and almost apologetic. "I'm sorry I've been gone so much lately."

The words are familiar, rehearsed. You've heard them before. They've lost their meaning.

You set the glass down, turning to face her. "Lisa, we need to talk."

She looks up at you, her eyes wide and slightly panicked, as if she knows exactly where this conversation is going.

"I know," she says quickly, her hands clasping nervously in her lap. "I know I've been... distant. But things are just so crazy right now. The solo stuff, BLACKPINK's comeback, all the projects... It's hard to balance everything."

"And where does that leave us?" The question comes out harsher than you intended, but it's the truth. It's the question that's been gnawing at you for months now.

She flinches slightly, her brows furrowing as she looks down at her hands. "I'm doing this for us. I'm trying to make something—something bigger than just..."

You shake your head, cutting her off. "But what about us? When was the last time we just sat down and talked? When was the last time we spent a night together that didn't feel like I was competing with the rest of the world for a piece of you?"

Her eyes fill with tears, and for a second, the sight of her vulnerability breaks your resolve. But then you remember all the nights you spent waiting for her to come home. All the nights you fell asleep alone in that bed you were supposed to share.

"I'm trying," she whispers, her voice trembling. "I'm really trying."

"But it's not enough, Lisa." The words hang heavy between you, and you can see the way they cut through her. You've never said it out loud before—not like this.

She stands up, wrapping her arms around herself as if trying to shield herself from the impact. "What do you want me to do?" she asks, her voice breaking. "Quit everything? Stop being me?"

You sigh, running a hand through your hair in frustration. "No, I don't want that. I just want *you*. I want the person I fell in love with. The person who used to come home to me, who made time for me. Not this... version of you that's always somewhere else."

Tears slip down her cheeks, and she wipes them away angrily, as if frustrated with herself for being so emotional.

"I'm still that person," she says softly, but even she doesn't sound convinced.

"No, Lisa. You're not. And maybe that's the problem."

The words hit her like a slap, and she recoils, her eyes wide with hurt. For a moment, you think she might yell, fight back, tell you that you're wrong. But she doesn't. Instead, she just stands there, looking at you with a kind of sadness that breaks your heart all over again.

"What do you want from me?" she asks, her voice small, broken.

"I want you to want this. I want you to want us," you reply, your own voice wavering with emotion. "But I don't know if you do anymore."

"I do," she insists, taking a step towards you. "I do want us. I just... I don't know how to make it work. I don't know how to be everything at once."

You close your eyes, the weight of her words crashing over you. You know she's telling the truth. She's trying. But sometimes, trying isn't enough.

"I don't know if I can keep doing this," you admit, your voice barely above a whisper.

Lisa's breath hitches, her eyes widening in panic. "What are you saying?"

"I'm saying that I don't know how to be with someone who's never really here."

She stares at you, her tears flowing freely now, but she doesn't move. Doesn't try to close the distance between you.

"I don't want to lose you," she whispers, her voice so fragile it feels like it could shatter at any moment.

But you don't know what to say anymore. Because part of you feels like you've already lost her.

— — — — —

Lisa's tears fall silently now, her hands trembling as she wraps them around her arms. She looks so small, standing there in the dim light of the apartment, and for a moment, you remember the woman she used to be—confident, radiant, always with that playful grin. That version of her feels like a distant memory. The Lisa standing before you is someone else entirely, worn down by the weight of the world she's been chasing.

But it's not enough. Not anymore.

You close your eyes, trying to pull back the anger and hurt, but it bubbles up anyway. "You keep saying you don't want to lose me, Lisa, but that's all it feels like. It feels like I've already lost you."

Her breath catches, and she steps forward, her voice strained. "No, don't say that. I'm here now, aren't I? I came back—"

"Yeah, after how long?" You cut her off, your voice cracking. "After weeks of being gone, of empty promises and silence. I don't know how to do this anymore. I don't know if I even can."

Her face crumples at your words, and it almost breaks you to see her like this, but the hurt inside you is too overwhelming to let her off that easily. You've been patient—too patient, perhaps. You've given everything you could, and yet, here you are, standing on the edge of something that might be too far gone to save.

"Please, let's just talk," she pleads, stepping closer, her brown hair falling in soft waves around her tear-streaked face. "I know I've been absent, I know I haven't been... the partner you deserve. But I'm trying."

"Are you?" The words come out sharper than you intended, but there's no taking them back. "Because all it feels like is that you're trying to be everything for everyone else. For the fans, for the world. But not for me."

She winces at that, her shoulders slumping further as if each word hits her like a blow. "It's not like that. You don't understand—"

"Then help me understand," you say, voice breaking. "Help me understand why I'm always the one waiting for you. Why I'm the one who's always left behind, wondering if this relationship even matters to you anymore."

There's a long, painful silence. Her eyes are glassy, her lips trembling as she tries to form a response. And then, softly, she speaks. "I never wanted it to get like this. I just... I don't know how to balance everything. BLACKPINK, the solo work, my career... I thought I could do it all, but I didn't realize how much I was losing you in the process."

Her words sting because they're true, but they don't fix the damage. They don't change the fact that the loneliness you've felt has consumed you, has eroded the foundation of what used to be such a loving relationship.

"I've been telling myself that it's just temporary," you murmur, your voice barely above a whisper. "That one day, you'd slow down, and we'd find our way back to each other. But Lisa, I don't even know if I want to wait anymore. I don't know if I can."

She freezes at that, and for a moment, the shock on her face is palpable. She opens her mouth to say something, but nothing comes out. It's like she's only just realizing how close she is to losing you. How far apart you've drifted.

"I don't want to lose you," she says again, almost like a mantra, as if repeating it enough times will make it true.

"I don't want to lose you either," you admit, the weight of the words pressing down on you. "But I don't even know if you're really here with me anymore."

She takes a step closer, her eyes wide, desperate. "I'm right here. I'm here now. Please, can't we—"

The door suddenly creaks open, and both of you turn to see Jisoo standing in the entryway, her face shadowed with concern. Behind her, Jennie and Rosé linger, clearly hesitant but unwilling to leave Lisa alone in such a vulnerable moment.

"I'm sorry," Jisoo says softly, eyes flicking between the two of you. "We didn't mean to interrupt, but we've been worried."

Lisa wipes at her tears quickly, trying to regain some semblance of composure, but she's still shaking. "It's okay," she whispers, her voice cracking.

You stand there, unsure of what to say or how to react. You know the girls mean well—they've always had Lisa's back—but their presence now feels like a painful reminder of the life she's built outside of you. The life she's chosen over you, time and time again.

Jennie steps forward, her gaze soft but serious. "She's been under so much pressure lately. The expectations are insane, and I know it's not fair to you. But Lisa's been trying. She really has."

You clench your jaw, frustration bubbling up. "It doesn't feel like it. It just feels like she's giving everything to the rest of the world and leaving nothing for me."

Rosé, who's usually the quiet one, speaks up, her voice gentle but firm. "We've all seen it, how much she's struggling. We've been there with her through it all, but... she's not the same without you."

Those words hit hard, but not in the way you expected. They make you realize something painfully obvious—she isn't the same without *you*. And maybe, just maybe, you aren't the same without her, either.

But even if that's true, is it enough?

"I can't keep being the last person on her list," you say quietly, turning to Lisa. "I can't keep feeling like I'm competing with the world for your time. I love you, but this... this isn't working."

Lisa looks like she's about to break, her tears falling freely now. "Please, don't do this," she begs, her voice thick with emotion. "I'm trying, I'll make more time, I'll—"

"You've said that before," you cut her off, the sadness in your voice making it hard to breathe. "And I believed you. But I don't know if I can believe it anymore."

Jisoo and Jennie exchange a glance, as if they're not sure whether to step in or let the two of you work this out. Rosé stays by the door, her eyes filled with sympathy but helplessness.

Lisa's hands reach out, trembling as she grabs your arm. "I'll do whatever it takes. Please, just don't leave."

Her words hang in the air, thick with desperation, but you know the truth. You've known it for a while now, even if it hurts to admit it.

"I'm not leaving," you say, your voice soft. "But maybe... maybe we need to take a step back. I don't want to lose you, but I can't keep waiting for something that might never come."

The devastation on Lisa's face is almost too much to bear. Her lips tremble as she tries to speak, but no words come out. She's always been strong, always put together, but right now, she looks shattered.

"I don't want this to be the end," she whispers, barely audible.

"Neither do I," you say, stepping back, creating a space between you both that feels impossibly wide. "But I can't keep holding on to something that's slipping away."

You turn towards the door, and as you step past Jisoo, Jennie, and Rosé, you hear Lisa's soft sobs behind you, the sound breaking your heart all over again. You've never walked away from her before. You've always stayed, always waited.

But this time, you're not sure what's left to wait for.

— — — — —

You find yourself outside, the cold air biting at your skin, and for the first time in a long time, you feel the weight of the decision settling in your chest. You love her—you always will. But love isn't always enough, and that's the hardest truth to swallow.

Behind you, you hear the door creak open. Lisa stands there, silhouetted by the light from inside, her face pale and tear-streaked. Jisoo is by her side, whispering something you can't hear, and the sight of it—the way her members surround her, protect her—reminds you of the bond she'll always have with them. The life she's chosen.

Maybe it's time for you to start choosing yourself.

As you walk away into the night, the pain gnaws at you, but somewhere deep inside, there's a small flicker of relief. Not because you wanted this, but because you've finally acknowledged the truth.

Lisa was never yours to keep.

And maybe, in letting go, you're finally freeing both of you.