#moon junhui

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Seungcheol - Seungcheol didn't mean to. When your hips bucked, causing you to drag your pretty pussy over his mouth erratically, he didn't know you were trying to run away from his sinful tongue.

Your cries are wet, sniffling, and high-pitched as you tug on his hair. But Seungcheol couldn’t bear the thought of removing his mouth from your drooling cunt. His tongue laves over your puffy folds, slurping every drop of your sweet slick seeping from your fluttering hole. His nose presses into your sensitive clit with each shake of his head, pulling you over the edge for the third time tonight.

And your body shakes as your vision whitens. Your hand tugs on his hair, trapped, sitting on his face as his arms curl around your thighs to keep you in place. Your other hand smacks into the anime poster above his wall, its of a barely clad Mitsuri Kanroji, and Seungcheol is curling his tongue inside to feel how your gummy walls throb around his wet muscle as you cum.

When he doesn’t stop, your eyes roll back, your whimpers wrecked as you try to tug on his hair, your tongue too heavy to say anything other than his name. You’re the first person to let him do this, fuck, you’re the first girl to be in his room alone. And if he wasn’t going to live out all his lewd fantasies he’s read in his hentai books under his bed, then you were going to be in for a rude awakening.

Now, his pouty lips sucks your clit into his mouth like a man starved. He wonders, do you think he could make you squirt?

Jeonghan - Jeonghan overstimulates you on purpose. 

When he promised you a night you wouldn’t forget, you were intrigued by the nerd who was supposed to be tutoring you through history.

What you don’t expect is to be tied to his bed. He’s got movie posters of Jurassic Park and Dunkirk on his wall, with stacks of books on his shelves, ranging from King Henry the 8th to the Romanov sisters and the Roman Empire. But that’s not what you can focus on.

No, the electric buzz that resonates through the air takes all of your attention to the long-haired blonde. He’s kneeling between your thighs, his fingers playing with the hot pink dildo like it was a new concept to him. And maybe that was because it was. He’s only seen toys like this from late-night searches on his laptop when he was alone with a box of tissues and lotion.

But now, he’s got you on your back, legs spread, and your pretty pussy on display just for him. He hopes the twitch of his cock in his sweats isn’t as noticeable as the warmth at the tops of his ears, but he’s just so excited.

His idea was that if you could answer each question for your upcoming test for the end of semester 1 of your World History class, he’d allow you to cum. But now, he can’t take his eyes off your pretty pussy as you slurp the pink dildo farther inside your wet heat. The nub at the base of the toy vibrates along your puffy clit deliciously, and Jeonghan’s mouth waters as you cry out for the nth time. The orgasm is pulled from you as he tilts the toy up while he presses down on your stomach.

Yeah, he throws his idea right out the window - his new plan? To make you forget everything other than his name.

Joshua - When Joshua gets you overstimulated, he's got his head between your thighs and your fingers pulling his hair like it would somehow separate his mouth from your pretty cunt.

His tongue flicks over your clit just as his lips suck the bundle of nerves like you're his new favorite candy. And maybe it's because you are.

Joshua is still dressed in his sweater and tie, his fingers clutching your hips as you squirm under his relentless tongue for mercy. But his mouth just salivates like a man starved, your syrupy sweet slick pooling on his tongue like honey. He just won't let you go. I mean, how could you have known the sweetest gentleman who always shared snacks with you during library study sessions would have a wicked mouth and a sweet tooth for you?

He's got you tucked in between the dusty shelves in the back, your skirt flipped up to your stomach, with his face pressing even deeper towards your drooling cunt like it'll have all the answers to his problems. And it takes seconds for him to get you falling apart, your fingers tugging his hair to pull him away while you shake, doing your best not to be too loud - you're still in the library afterall.

But fuck, Joshua makes it difficult when he continues to lavish your pretty pussy with broad licks of his tongue :( easily getting you overstimulated and crying his name like it's salvation.

Jun - It happens slowly. Jun didn’t have much experience being with someone; his head was stuck in piles of books or preoccupied with using his hands to fidget with putting together scraps of metal and wiring to create something new. He didn’t think he’d get you in his bed, underneath him. You were so pretty, and he couldn’t keep his eyes off of you, taking in each sweet noise he pulled out of you as your eyes rolled to the back of your head.

It doesn’t take him long to find your sweet spots. The ones that have you arching your back for him, your jaw slacking open as your thighs shake in pleasure. And he has each gasp and whimper seared into the back of his head as you cum for the first time around his long fingers, the curl of his digits leaving stars to burst behind your eyelids as he watches with fascination.

That’s when you should have known you were in trouble. Because now, after two orgasms back to back, he’s splitting you in half with his cock. His jaw clenches as his hips roll forward nice n’ slow. Your cunt throbs its own heartbeat each time he sinks balls deep, and you’re at the brink of insanity as he leans back on his knees. He watches your walls flutter around his shaft each time his thumb flicks over your clit, and the slow build-up takes you by surprise as you suddenly cum with a whine.

You gush, coating his cock with a wet sheen, and he is in awe. He fucks you through your high, helping you through each ebb and flow of your orgasm until you gasp for air. And then he keeps going, his thumb pressing firmly into the sensitive bundle of nerves as you shake your head, “s’too much- I-I can’t!”

Jun’s voice is soft but rough, his tongue licking his bottom lip wet as he pushes forward again, filling you full once more. “Yes, yes, you can.” You don’t see the way his eyes swirl a little unhinged as he spreads your legs apart more. “Let’s see how wet you can get, Pretty.”

Soonyoung - Soonyoung doesn’t mean to overstimulate you. But he also doesn’t mean to overstimulate himself either. You just feel too good, he can’t stop.

His fingers dig into the soft fat of your thighs, keeping you pinned in place as his mouth waters in awe. His eyes are zeroed in on your drooling cunt, the way the fat tip of his cock drags through your puffy, glittering folds.

His dick is soaked in your sweet slick, the thick head of his cock bumping into your sensitive clit as he grinds against your pretty pussy like a desperate man. Which he is. Oh, so desperate for you. And when you told him he could do whatever he wanted, he just couldn’t put it in? :( He thought he might die. But he’d do whatever you want; he’s just so happy to be between your thighs.

Sweat rolls down the sides of his forehead as he concentrates, his hips pushing forward and dragging back nice n’ slow, building your high up again only to force you to shatter underneath him for the nth time. He can feel your folds throb around his length, your fluttering hole winking around nothing as you cum again, and he doesn’t stop. The tip of his cock bumps over your clit again and again until you’re a mess, your head falling back as your thighs twitch under his hands.

“C’mon,” his jaw clenches as his cock throbs angrily for more. “Just the tip, please.” His cheeks are flushed, and his eyes never leave his cock sliding slipperily through your wet cunt, drool already slipping from the corner of his mouth. “Just the tip, I promise.”

Wonwoo - Wonwoo was a man of facts. He didn’t do anything without much research. He needed to know the facts, to have all the information before he decided his next move, and with you, it didn’t change.

Wonwoo’s glasses fog up as his lips part. His eyes widen as he leans closer between your plush thighs, his fingers digging into the soft flesh of your hips as he watches your glittering folds get wetter, small puffs of his breath panting over your pretty pussy in awe.

He’s on his knees, cock straining against his slacks as his cheeks burn red. He couldn’t believe you were letting him do this. I mean, after finding out he was a virgin - shocker - he didn’t think you’d bring him back to your place, let alone sit on the edge of your bed so you could show him what he was missing out on.

And when you guide him even closer, his tongue lapping a long stripe up your slicked folds, the man of facts, of order, and information loses his last thread of restraint. He surprises you when he hooks your legs over his shoulders, his glasses going askew as he buries his face deeper into your addictive cunt. His groan is deep but muffled between your thick thighs, and you’re scrambling to hold onto your bedsheets for dear life.

Your first orgasm, although sloppy, has your thighs crushing his head as the obscene squelches of your pussy resonate throughout your bedroom. But by the third orgasm, you’re begging for mercy. The heel of your foot digs into his broad shoulder,s and your hand tugs on his hair, but he’s too far gone to listen. His eyes are closed, groaning lowly as he spreads your puffy folds apart so his tongue can reach deeper.

Eventually, it’ll be too much, and he’ll let you have mercy. But then he’ll force you into a nasty mating press, asking if he can feel your cunt throb around his cock until your pretty pussy molds to his length like he knows you’re meant to.

Jihoon - All the late nights watching hentai, of tissues at his bedside table, sitting next to his lotion as he watched his laptop screen, prepared him for this.

And fuck, you don’t disappoint.

You’re so pretty with your thighs twitching, your legs spread open to have him lying between them. He can’t believe you’re in his dorm room. He can’t believe you’re arching your back on his Solo Leveling bedsheets. That he has pulled orgasm after orgasm from you with just his fingers, but here he is. One hand pushing down on your stomach as his other hand fills your pretty pussy with three fingers while his thumb swirls your clit with the expertise of a nerd who only watched this kind of stuff during his free time.

He’s watched so many pervy videos of the pretty anime girls who moaned and gasped when the guy did this to them, and Jihoon might just cum untouched with the way you cry out better than any anime girl he’s watched. He curls his fingers, searching for the one spot that’ll get you squealing, and is ultimately surprised when you yelp before cumming for the nth time when he finds it. Your hands try to shove him away, your vision whitening as you orgasm, but he’s having none of it.

Jihoon keeps the pace, applying the pressure while hooking his fingers, and your jaw slacks open in a silent scream as heat flashes through your entire body. 

Jihoon absolutely meant to overstimulate you. His satisfied smirk says it all while your pussy gushes, squirting all over his hand messily as he fucks you through it.

He’s going to need you to do that again. And again, and again. His new obsession unlocked as your eyes rolled to the back of your head in pleasure.

Minghao - It’s because Minghao is pussy drunk that he can’t stop. It’s not his fault that he’s never been inside a woman before. Heat crawls up his neck and ears, flushing on his cheeks as he overstimulates your clit with his lithe fingers. He sniffles, an apology almost crossing his lips, but then you’re gasping, your gummy walls squeezing his cock for dear life as he pulls another orgasm from you.

And he’s in awe. Stars swimming in his eyes as you cry out, your legs wrapping around his hips, conflicted to pull him closer or push him away because he’s relentless. His middle finger swirls the sensitive nub, his jaw dropping as your walls constrict around his shaft in time with the flicks of his fingers.

No, he can’t stop now.

So, he doesn’t. He doesn’t even move his hips, letting you buck your hips on your own as he taps sloppy hearts into your pretty pussy, absolutely in love.

Mingyu - Mingyu doesn't mean to overstimulate you; it's not his fault that he had to pull multiple orgasms from you just so he can prepare you to take his cock. He's a big man, and he has to have you drooling into his pillow, clutching his GumGum fruit plushy as he splits you in half with his thick cock.

He's got you on your hands and knees, your back arched beautifully as he drags you back to meet his slow thrust. He unknowingly makes you feel every inch that disappears into your wet cunt, the ridges and dips of his shaft dragging along your gummy walls until your eyes are rolling to the back of your head with a long moan.

By the time Mingyu is balls deep, you've orgasmed twice now, and that's not including when he made you cum on his tongue. Your legs tremble, your teeth sink into the pillow, and your walls throb around his cock in time with your racing heart that pounds in your ears. It's too much, you feel delirious staring at the Lord of the Rings action figures on his bookshelf as he pulls almost all the way out before knocking the breath from you when he pushes forward.

The headboard of his bed smacks into the wall while you cry out, your eyes crossing in pleasure as the tip of his cock smooches your cervix in greeting over and over again.

Seokmin - When Dokyeom, the coach of your little brother's little league baseball team, off-handedly mentions never knowing what the jokes about bases are when it came to dating... You'd like to show him, rather than tell him.

What you expect is a blushing, awkward, but cute Seokmin to not know what to do with you, and for you to take the reins the whole time.

What you don't expect is that there is a reason he's coaching little league on his summers away from college. Because he's got you in the backseat of his car, your leg draped over the passenger seat while his fingers curl deep inside your soaking cunt. The space is small back here, but Dokyeom makes full use of it. He's wearing his baseball cap backwards, the veins on his forearms on full display as he pumps his long fingers in n' out like you haven't already orgasm twice now.

Your fingers try to wrap around his wrist that's in between your thighs, but his free hand pins it above your head. He holds on to it as he watches your pretty pussy slurp his fingers greedily. His eyes swirl with a hunger that showed up after your first orgasm, your cries of his name music to his ears, and he just needs to see you fall apart one more time. Just one more time, you can do that, right?

Seungkwan - When you brought Seungkwan home to "study," you had a feeling you would end up like this. Straddling his lap, disheveling his hair with your fingers, with his cock inside you.

You had your eye on innocent Seungkwan for a while now. Loving how eager he was as your volleyball coach's assistant. He was so passionate, happily refilling water bottles, grabbing extra volleyballs, and helping you stretch after practice until his face was red as a tomato.

He was absolutely adorable, and you couldn't resist.

What you don't expect is that the stuttering nerd would fill you so deliciously, his fingers digging into your hips, controlling the pace as you rocked in his lap nice n' slowly. And like on the court, he's got endless praise fumbling from his mouth, his eyes dazed and filled with stars.

You've orgasm once and then twice back to back, leaving you sopping wet and sensitive, and Seungkwan's grip on your waist is still firm as ever. Your wet cries echo as he murmurs for you to cum again and again, driving you to the brink of insanity.

Vernon -  When your younger brother brings a new guitarist into his little "garage band," your eyes have never rolled harder. He claims they are getting really good, practically practicing every day in your garage, making what you think is just loud noise at this point. But that's just your role as older sister, to think everything your younger brother does is nerdy and lame - you're not supposed to find the guitarist attractive.

Vernon is a year older than your brother, a college senior majoring in music. He's got chipped nail polish and an oversized fur coat to go with his ripped jeans. And for their "heavy rock" persona, you've never met anyone who blushed as hard as Vernon did when you remind your brother they have 15 minutes to wrap it up because you have work tomorrow. You've been out of college for two years now, and even though you act like it's a bother for your brother to use your home as band practice, you love him and let him do what he wants.

That's why it's really bad to have Vernon bending you over the washer in your laundry room. He's your brother's friend, a nerd like the rest of them. He shouldn't be between your legs, filling you balls deep over and over again when everyone has already left. It shouldn't feel this good as your washer shakes underneath you, your cries drowned out by the laundry being washed.

Vernon shouldn't be able to get you to cum so easily, your palms smacking the machine as he fucks you through it, not stopping until your jaw slacks open with a scream.

Dino - Dino doesn’t know how he ended up in a closet with you at this frat party. He wasn’t even invited. He really was just dropping off homework to some jock who had deep pockets - Dino needed money, okay? A broke college kid gets desperate, and Dino is only good at a few things, and history is one of them! 

But what should have been an easy five-minute exchange turned into you grabbing him as your “seven minutes in heaven” when the bottle landed on your ex.

Dino didn’t know what to do with his hands when he was stuck in a closet with you, but he knew how to kiss. And he kissed you for the past seven minutes and all the way to the upstairs bathroom with the way your fingers curled into the front of his shirt after the initial “seven minutes” were over.

And then he kissed down your body while you sat on top of the bathroom counter. Your hands guiding him right between your thighs, where he kissed your pretty pussy until your squeals could probably be heard over the loud music playing on the other side of the door.

He had one of your legs hooked over his shoulder as his other hand held you in place. His tongue lapped at your glittering folds like it was the whole reason he had shown up to this party, to make your thighs shake around his head as you cried out for the nth time in less than 30 minutes.

Safe to say you were the newest thing he was good at doing.

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A/N: lmao this took a life of its own... I just wrote with no idea what I wanted to do, and here we are- enjoy <3

As always, comments or talking in the reblogs are amazing!

"That’s the problem, isn't it?" Minghao’s voice was like ice, slicing through the heavy atmosphere. He was still standing to the left of the chair Y/N had just vacated, his arms crossed tightly over his chest. "We don't think. We climb the charts, we sell out stadiums, we celebrate our 'perfect machine,' and we completely forget that the fourteenth gear is being stripped raw just to keep the rest of us turning."

"Hao, that’s enough," Jeonghan said quietly from the kitchen counter. But his voice lacked its usual authority. His hands were gripping the marble edge so tightly his knuckles were white. He looked toward the hallway where Y/N’s door had closed, his heart aching with the memory of her limp arms in his embrace just hours earlier. "We all failed. Every single one of us."

Jihoon stood up abruptly. He didn't look at anyone. His face was a mask of absolute, pale shock. He walked toward the front door, his hand trembling as he reached for his jacket.

"Where are you going?" Hoshi asked from the floor, his voice raw.

"The studio," Jihoon whispered, his throat tight. "I need to... I have to look at the track files. I have to look at Shadow."

"It’s four in the morning, Jihoon," Joshua said softly, reaching out to catch his sleeve.

"I don't care if it's the middle of the night!" Jihoon shouted, slamming his hand against the wall. The sudden outburst made Seokmin flinch. Tears finally spilled over Jihoon's lashes, hot and furious. "I told her her lyrics were too dark. I told her they didn't fit our image. She was telling me she was dying in the dark, and I gave her a lecture on commercial branding! I have to open the files. I have to see what I threw away."

He ripped his arm away from Joshua's grip and let himself out of the apartment, the heavy front door slamming closed with a dull, echoing boom.

Inside the bedroom, the world had shrunk to the space between two heartbeats.

Wonwoo’s chest was warm against Y/N’s back, his long arms wrapped around her waist, pulling her into him until there was no air left between them. He hadn't stopped shaking. The quiet, unbothered rapper who usually watched the world through a detached lens was holding onto her like she was the only solid thing left in a collapsing universe.

"Oppa," Y/N whispered into the dark, her voice small and rough from hours of crying. "You should go out there. They need you."

"No," Wonwoo murmured, his voice dropping into that deep, gravelly register that only came when he was completely drained. He buried his face deeper into the crook of her neck, his breath warm against her skin. "I’ve spent six years standing out there with them while you stood back here alone. Tonight, I'm staying in the corner."

"They didn't mean to do it," she said softly, staring at the faint gray light beginning to trace the edges of the window blinds. It was a strange twist of the heart even now, with her contract resignation sitting on the table, her first instinct was to protect the boys from their own guilt. "Coups-hyung... he’s just trying to keep the group alive. The company puts so much pressure on him."

"Don't defend him, Y/N-ah," Wonwoo whispered, his grip tightening around her waist just a fraction, as if he were physically fighting the legal team she had tried to call. "He’s the leader, but he’s also your brother. If he’s too busy looking at the stadiums to see that his sister is disappearing in the wings, then he’s failing at both."

He shifted slightly, turning her around in his arms until she was facing him. In the weak dawn light, his sharp eyes were wide, bloodshot, and filled with a rare, desperate vulnerability.

"Minghao was right," Wonwoo said, his thumb coming up to trace the fragile line of her jaw. "If you do this... if Team 2 processes the paperwork, the company will make it ugly. They’ll structure the articles to protect the 'Seventeen' brand. They’ll say you left because of health reasons, or personality differences, or lack of dedication. The fans... some of them will be furious. Are you ready for that?"

Y/N looked into his eyes, her heart aching with the sheer weight of his worry. "I’ve spent six years being torn apart by solo stans for just existing in the line-up, Wonwoo. I’ve read the threads saying I’m the 'ugly variable' that ruins the dance formations. Do you really think an official exit article can hurt me more than sitting in that waiting room tonight while everyone looked right through me?"

Wonwoo closed his eyes, a sharp, ragged breath escaping his throat. He leaned down, pressing his forehead against hers, his fingers curling into the fabric of her black hoodie.

"Then let me come with you," he whispered.

Y/N froze, her breath catching in her throat. "What?"

"If you leave... let me terminate mine too," Wonwoo said, the words falling out of him with a terrifying, absolute certainty. "I don't want to stand on that stage if half my heart is sitting in a legal office in Samseong-dong. I don't want to sing the bridge if I’m looking at the space where you used to stand."

"Are you crazy?" Y/N’s voice finally rose, her hands coming up to grip his shoulders, pushing him back just enough to see his face. "Wonwoo, no! You love the stage. You love the Carats. You went through the green basement you bled for this group!"

"I bled with you," he corrected fiercely, his eyes flashing with an intensity she had never seen in him before. "We built this together. If the system is so broken that it requires your erasure to function, then I don't want to be a part of the machine either."

A quiet knock on the door broke the heavy tension of the room.

Y/N and Wonwoo both turned their heads as the door pushed open a few inches. Minghao stood in the threshold. The morning light from the hallway hit his face, revealing the dark circles under his eyes. He didn't look angry anymore; he just looked incredibly old.

"Coups wants to talk to you," Minghao said quietly, his eyes lingering on Wonwoo’s defensive posture before moving to Y/N. "Not as the leader. He left his phone and his tablet on the kitchen counter. He just wants to speak to his sister."

Y/N looked at Wonwoo. He was staring at her with an unspoken plea, his hand still tight on her waist, silent text saying you don't have to go if you aren't ready.

But Y/N took a deep breath, the hollow clarity from the corridor returning to steady her nerves. "It's okay, oppa. I’ll go."

Slowly, she slid out of the bed, her joints popping in the quiet room. Wonwoo followed her closely, stepping into the hallway right behind her like a shadow that refused to leave her side.

The living room had changed. The remaining members were still there, but they had moved. Seungcheol was sitting alone on the floor in the center of the room, his back against the sofa, staring at the empty wooden chair Y/N had used earlier.

As Y/N walked in, the boys went entirely still. Seungkwan quickly wiped his face, trying to stop his sniffing, while Dino looked up from the corner with an expression of pure, childlike heartbreak.

Y/N didn't sit in the wooden chair. She walked over and sat directly on the floor, a few feet away from Seungcheol, crossing her legs. Wonwoo sat right behind her, his knees bracketing her hips, his chest an unyielding support against her spine.

Seungcheol slowly lifted his head. His eyes were completely red, the skin around them swollen from crying. He looked at her really looked at her for what felt like the first time in six months.

"I called the Vice President," Seungcheol said, his voice completely hoarse, barely carrying across the small space.

Y/N’s heart did a small, cold flip. Already?

"I told him that if Legal Team 2 answers a single call from your number," Seungcheol continued, his lower lip trembling as he reached into his pocket and pulled out his own personal ID card the official leader pass that gave him access to every executive floor in the Pledis building, "I am stepping down as the general leader of Seventeen effective immediately. And I told him that if they try to release a single negative article about your departure, the thirteen of us will sit in the lobby and refuse to record the repackage album."

The room went entirely silent. Even Wonwoo’s grip on her shoulder went rigid.

"Cheol..." Y/N whispered, her eyes widening.

"I’m not trying to force you to stay, Y/N-ah," Seungcheol said, a fresh tear tracking down his pale cheek. He placed his leader card on the glass table, sliding it right next to her phone. "If staying here is killing you, I will personally drive you to the corporate office and help you sign the termination papers. I will protect you from the company, and I will protect you from the media. But I need you to know... I didn't see you because I was stupid. I thought because you didn't cry, you were okay. I thought because you always smiled, you were strong."

He leaned forward, his forehead coming down to touch the cool glass of the table between them, his voice breaking into a ragged, pathetic sob.

"Please don't leave thinking you didn't matter," the leader wept into the quiet room. "If you go... we will let you go because we love you. But we will never be whole again. The fourteenth seat is yours, Y/N. Even if it stays empty for the rest of our careers, nobody else is ever going to sit in it."

Y/N stared at the back of his head, her own tears finally spilling over, hot and heavy, dripping onto the fabric of her sweatpants. She looked around the circle at Minghao’s tight jaw, at Jeonghan’s closed eyes, at Wonwoo’s steady warmth behind her.

The legal papers were still waiting in the corporate office. The three-second bridge blocking was still locked for the music shows. The system hadn't magically changed in the middle of the night.

But as the morning sun finally broke through the living room windows, flooding the cramped apartment with a bright, golden warmth, Y/N realized one thing: The ghosthood was gone. They were looking at her, they were bleeding for her, and for the first time in six months... she was visible.

The golden morning light crept further across the living room floor, illuminating the raw, exhausted faces of the fourteen people who had spent their entire youth building a dream together.

Seungcheol remained with his forehead pressed against the glass table, his shoulders shaking with the quiet, devastating grief of a leader who had finally realized his own blindness. Next to his bowed head, his leader ID pass and Y/N’s locked phone sat side-by-side.

Y/N looked at the plastic card, then up at the brothers surrounding her. The initial, bitter anger that had fueled her walk down the corridor yesterday had faded, replaced by a profound, heavy sorrow. They weren't a perfect machine anymore. They were just thirteen broken boys realization-struck by the cost of their own success.

Slowly, Y/N slid forward, moving out of the protective bracket of Wonwoo’s knees. Wonwoo let his hands drop, but his eyes never left her as she closed the distance between herself and the leader.

She reached out, her small, trembling hand gently coming to rest on top of Seungcheol’s thick hair.

"Cheol," she whispered, reverting to the softer, more intimate honorific she used when they were trainees, long before he became Seungcheol or the General Leader. "Pick your head up. Please."

Seungcheol slowly lifted his face, his eyes swollen and bloodshot. He looked at her hand on his hair, then into her eyes, looking entirely lost.

"I don't want you to throw your career away for me," Y/N said softly, her voice thick with her own tears. "I don't want the thirteen of you to strike, or to sit in the lobby, or to break the circle because of me. If I leave... I want to leave because it's time for me to heal, not because I want to burn down everything you’ve all bled for."

"But we bled for it with you, Y/N-ah," Seungkwan choked out from the sofa, his voice muffled by a throw pillow. "If you leave like this, every trophy we win from now on is just going to feel like a reminder that we pushed you out to get it."

"You didn't push me out," Y/N murmured, looking back at Seungkwan, giving him a fragile, reassuring smile. "You just... you forgot to look back. And I forgot how to scream when I was drowning."

Minghao stepped forward from the edge of the kitchen, his posture finally relaxing from his rigid stance. He walked over and sat on the floor next to Y/N, pulling his legs up to his chest. His sharp eyes searched her face.

"The legal call," Minghao said quietly, his voice a calm anchor in the emotional room. "What do you want to do, Y/N-ah? Truly. No corporate pressure, no leader ultimatums. If you want to walk out that door, I will carry your bags. But if you are only leaving because you think you aren't wanted... look around this room."

Y/N looked.

She saw Hoshi, whose fierce, tiger-like intensity on stage was completely replaced by a crumpled, heartbroken expression. She saw Dokyeom gripping his knees so tightly his knuckles were white, silently praying. She felt Wonwoo’s steady, unyielding gaze from behind her, a silent promise that whatever she chose, he was still ready to walk out the door with her.

"I'm scared," Y/N confessed, the truth slipping out before she could stop it. Her fingers curled into her sweatpants. "I’m scared that if I stay, the next comeback will be exactly the same. I'm scared that I’ll be hidden behind Mingyu’s shoulders again, and I’ll have to sit on the edge of the bench, and I’ll have to listen to the directors say my voice doesn't fit the 'color' of the group."

"It won't be," a new voice spoke from the entryway.

Everyone turned. Jihoon was standing in the doorway, his jacket damp from the morning dew, his baseball cap gripped tightly in his hand. He looked completely drained, but his eyes were wide and burning with an absolute, fierce intensity. He had walked all the way back from the universe of his studio.

He walked into the center of the living room, ignoring the space between the members, and dropped a thick, printed stack of paper directly onto the coffee table.

Y/N looked down. It was the audio tracking sheets and lyric blocks for Shadow. But the margins were covered in fresh, chaotic black ink Jihoon’s unmistakable, frantic handwriting.

"I opened the files," Jihoon said, his voice trembling as he stared directly at Y/N. "I took out the verses we locked last week. I put yours back in. The whole song the intro, the first chorus, the outro it’s yours now, Y/N. It’s not 'too dark.' It’s the truth of what we’ve been putting you through, and it’s going to be the main promotional B-side for the repackage."

Y/N’s breath hitched, her hand flying to her mouth as she stared at the ink-stained papers. "Jihoon-oppa..."

"And I called the performance directors on my way back," Hoshi spoke up eagerly, crawling forward on his knees until he was right next to Seungcheol. "I told them we are scrapping the second-verse blocking for the title track. I don't care about the thirteen-member symmetry anymore. We’re moving Mingyu to the left wing during the bridge, and you’re standing dead center, Y/N. The camera isn't going to miss a single syllable."

Y/N sat in the center of their sudden, overwhelming desperation to fix what they had broken. It was everything she had wanted for the past six months every boundary she had begged them to cross, every tiny scrap of validation she had starved for.

But as she looked at Jihoon’s exhausted face and Hoshi’s frantic adjustments, she realized the most important change wasn't on the paper or in the choreography.

It was the fact that they were finally looking at her. The phantom thread hadn't snapped; they had grabbed onto it with both hands, terrifyingly aware of how close they had come to letting it slip away forever.

Slowly, Y/N reached across the glass table. She passed over the leader ID card, leaving it for Seungcheol. Instead, her fingers wrapped around her own phone. She unlocked the screen, pulled up the contact for Pledis Legal Team 2, and with a single, deliberate swipe of her thumb, she hit the delete button.

The room let out a collective, ragged breath, the tension snapping like a rubber band. Seungkwan buried his face back into the pillow, his sobs turning from grief to sheer, overwhelming relief.

Y/N looked up, her eyes meeting Wonwoo’s in the quiet dawn light. The deep, heavy sorrow in his eyes slowly melted into something soft, a quiet, profound gratitude that made his entire face relax for the first time in twenty-four hours. He reached forward, his long fingers gently catching the hem of her black sleeve, pulling her back just an inch toward him.

"I'm not signing the papers today," Y/N said softly, looking back at Seungcheol, whose eyes were wide with a sudden, cautious hope. "But I’m not practicing today either, hyung. I’m tired. I need to sleep. And I need to write."

"Anything you want," Seungcheol whispered, his voice cracking as he reached out and covered her hand with his own large, warm palm. "Sleep for a week. We’ll push the pre-recordings back. We’ll handle the company. Just... stay in the room, Y/N-ah."

"I'm here," she whispered back, the tears finally slowing down.

As the members slowly began to move, the rigid courtroom atmosphere dissolving back into the chaotic, protective warmth of their shared home, Y/N let herself lean completely back against Wonwoo’s chest. His arms wrapped around her waist immediately, holding her securely, no longer like a shield against a cruel world, but like a solid, permanent anchor.

The machine was still complicated, the industry was still harsh, and the road to healing the last six years of silent erosion was going to be long and painful. But as Wonwoo buried his face in her hair, his breathing finally steady and calm against her neck, Y/N closed her eyes.

She wasn't a ghost anymore. She was the fourteenth member of Seventeen, and for the first time since debut, the silence didn't hurt.

The collective exhale that had filled the room suddenly caught in thirteen throats.

Y/N’s hand remained resting on her phone, the screen showing that Pledis Legal Team 2 had indeed been deleted from her recent contacts. But her thumb wasn’t shaking anymore. The hollow, terrifying clarity that had carried her through the broadcasting station hadn’t vanished just because Jihoon had rewritten a lyric sheet or because Seungcheol had threatened a strike.

She looked at Seungcheol, whose hand was still covering hers, his eyes wide with a fragile, desperate relief that she was about to systematically dismantle.

"I deleted the contact," Y/N said, her voice dropping into a quiet, unyielding register that made the room go completely still again. "But I didn’t say I’m staying."

Seungcheol’s palm went rigid over hers. Behind her, Wonwoo’s arms tightened around her waist instinctively, his chest heaving with a sharp, sudden intake of breath.

"Y/N-ah..." Seungcheol’s voice was a ragged whisper, the hope draining from his face so fast it left him looking gray under the morning sun.

"I’m not going to call the lawyers today, and I’m not going to slip out the back door while you’re all asleep," she continued, looking around the circle of her brothers. "I owe you, and I owe Wonwoo, more than a sudden disappearance. But you can’t undo six months of drowning in twenty minutes, hyung. You can't rewrite the last six years of my life with one b-side track."

Jihoon stood frozen by the coffee table, his hand still resting on the ink-stained sheets of Shadow. The fierce, frantic energy that had driven him back from the studio evaporated, leaving him looking devastatingly small. "Y/N... I can change more than just Shadow. Whatever you want to write, whatever concept you feel fits you-"

"It's not a negotiation, Jihoon-oppa," she said softly, shifting her gaze to him. Her eyes were entirely sympathetic, but they were firm. "That’s exactly what I mean. Right now, you’re all reacting out of terror. You’re reacting because you looked down and realized the floor was cracking. But what happens in three months? What happens during the next world tour, when the schedules are packed, and the company is screaming about profit margins, and the formations have to be perfect again? Are you still going to see me then, or are you going to go back to the machine because it’s easier?"

No one answered. The brutal honesty of her words hung in the air, a mirror reflecting the relentless, corporate reality of their careers. They all knew how the industry worked. When the pressure cooker of a comeback cycle hit its peak, survival mode took over and in survival mode, routines became absolute.

"I need time," Y/N said, looking back at Seungcheol. "I’m going to finish this promotion cycle. I’ll stand in the center for the bridge, and I’ll sing the verses Jihoon wrote. I’ll give Carats the fourteen-member comeback they paid to see. But every single day of these promotions, I am still going to be thinking about leaving."

A quiet, choked sob broke from Seokmin's corner. He covered his face with his hands, his broad shoulders shaking violently. Beside him, Seungkwan looked up, his eyes rimmed with raw red, his lower lip trembling.

"So... it’s a countdown?" Seungkwan asked, his voice barely a squeak. "We’re just waiting for the day you decide to drop the pen?"

"It’s an evaluation," Minghao corrected from her side, his voice a calm, grounded shield against the rising panic in the room. He didn't look surprised by her words; if anything, a faint, proud look crossed his sharp features. He looked at the rest of the group. "She’s giving us a chance to prove that we’re actually a family, not just business partners who share a kitchen. If we can’t change our habits when the lights are bright, we don't deserve to keep her."

Seungcheol slowly slid his hand off hers, pulling his fingers back tightly against his chest. He looked at his leader ID card resting on the table. The authority it carried felt completely useless now. He couldn't command her to stay. He couldn't manage her out of her pain.

"Okay," Seungcheol whispered, a single, heavy tear dropping onto his sweatpants. He lifted his head, his expression shifting from a broken boy back into the protector, but this time, the protection was entirely for her. "Okay, Y/N-ah. That’s fair. It’s more than fair. We will earn it. Every single day, we will earn the right to have you stand next to us."

He stood up, his joints popping loudly in the quiet room. He looked at the rest of the members, his eyes hard and commanding. "No one pressures her. No one makes her feel guilty for checking out mentally when she needs to. If she wants to sit in the waiting room with her headphones on, you let her breathe. If she wants to go back to the dorm early, the managers will make it happen. We don't adjust her to fit Seventeen anymore. We adjust Seventeen to protect Y/N."

The boys nodded in unison, a solemn, quiet vow rippling through the semi-circle. Hoshi wiped his eyes fiercely with the back of his hand, leaning back against the wall, his jaw set.

Slowly, the heavy weight in the room began to fracture into movement. Joshua gently guided a still-crying Seungkwan toward the kitchen to get some water, while Dino and Chan quietly picked up the discarded jackets from the floor.

Wonwoo didn't move. He remained sitting right behind her, his chin resting gently on the top of her shoulder, his long arms still locked around her waist.

"You did good," he murmured against her ear, his deep voice vibrating right into her spine. "You held your ground."

Y/N let her head fall back against his shoulder, letting out a long, shuddering breath that felt like the first real pocket of oxygen she had claimed in months. "Are you disappointed, oppa? That I didn't just say I'd stay for you?"

Wonwoo let out a soft, dry chuckle that held no humor, only an immense, profound relief. He tightened his grip on her, burying his face in the fabric of her black hoodie.

"I told you in that storage room, Y/N-ah... I don't want a statistic, and I don't want a ghost," Wonwoo whispered into the dark of her hair. "If you stayed just because I begged you, you’d still be fading away inside. I want you whole. Even if being whole means you eventually walk out that door, I’d rather watch you leave on your own two feet than watch you disappear while standing right next to me. I’m here for the evaluation. I’m not letting go."

Y/N closed her eyes, her fingers interlocking with his over her stomach. The morning sun was fully up now, casting long, bright geometric shapes across the living room floor, burning away the shadows of the night. The countdown had officially begun, and the bridge beneath her was still fragile but for the first time in six months, she wasn't walking across it alone in the dark.

The next three weeks of promotions were unlike any schedule Seventeen had ever run.

To the public, the transition was flawless. When the repackage album dropped, Shadow debuted at number two on the charts, chased closely by the title track. The fans went wild over Y/N’s verses. For the first time, casual listeners and long-time Carats alike were flooded with vocal layers that weren’t just harmonies buried under Seokmin or Seungkwan they were raw, distinct, and hauntingly front-and-center.

But backstage, the atmospheric shift was staggering.

At the next music show pre-recording, the waiting room was a completely rewritten script. Y/N sat in her usual corner by the garment racks, her noise-canceling headphones pulled over her ears. Six weeks ago, this would have been an invisible boundary that kept her isolated. Tonight, it was a protected zone.

Mingyu had walked over twenty minutes ago, carrying a plate of sliced fruit. He hadn’t said a word to disrupt her space; he had simply set the plate on the small table next to her, tapped her shoulder to point at it with a warm, quiet smile, and walked back to join the others.

"Is she eating?" a voice murmured near the door.

Y/N pulled one side of her headphones down, her eyes tracking the whisper. Seungcheol was standing by the entrance, speaking to one of the main managers. His tablet was open, but his attention was entirely split.

"She took a few pieces," the manager replied quietly. "The performance coordinators want to know if she needs to skip the secondary blocking run-through. The stage floors are a bit slick today."

"Tell them she’s sitting out the dry rehearsal," Seungcheol said without a second of hesitation. His voice was firm, carrying that new, unyielding barrier he had built between Y/N and the corporate demands. "If they have an issue with the camera lines, tell them to adjust the tracking manually. We aren't running her ragged on a wet floor."

Y/N stared at the back of Seungcheol’s head. He didn't turn around to check if she was watching. He wasn't doing it to perform or to earn a quick smile from her; he was executing the vow he had made in the living room. He was managing the world so she didn't have to shrink herself to fit it.

"Line up! Entering the stage in three minutes!" the floor director bellowed through the corridor.

The members stood up, the rustle of heavy stage velvet filling the room. As they moved into the hallway, Hoshi stepped to the front, but he didn't immediately call for the chant. Instead, his sharp eyes scanned the line until they landed on Y/N.

"Spacing check," Hoshi said, his voice loud enough to clear the hallway chatter. "Verse two. Mingyu, remember your mark."

"I'm shifting three feet left the moment the lights hit the platform," Mingyu nodded instantly, his broad shoulders dropping back into a defensive lane that left the center lane completely unobstructed. "I've got the wing angle covered."

"Jihoon?" Hoshi tracked.

"Audio balance is locked," Jihoon said, stepping into line behind Y/N. He didn't push past her or give her a corporate lecture. He reached out, his small hand briefly catching the hem of her sleeve, giving it a light, grounding tug. "Sing it exactly like you did in the studio, Y/N-ah. The mic split is dead. Nobody is cutting your track."

The stage lights flooded the studio a minute later.

When the intro for Equilibrium hit, Y/N’s body moved with the same sharp, automated precision she had trained years for. But when the bridge arrived, the shift was physical.

As she stepped into the center, Mingyu cleared the lane with a sweeping, dramatic transition that felt almost protective. The main broadcast camera dipped low, locking onto her face as she delivered the vocal climax. For three seconds, she wasn't an extra or a transition pivot. She was the focal point of a thirteen-man engine that was deliberately turning around her.

From the front row of the audience, the fan chant rose like a wave—and for the first time in six years, her name didn't feel like an afterthought tucked into the end of the rhythm.

The evaluation continues

By 11:45 PM, the first van was quiet on the ride back to the dorms.

Y/N leaned her forehead against the cool window glass, watching the neon signs of the Han River blur past. Her phone lay flat on her lap. The notes app was open, but the digital graveyard of resignation letters had been replaced by a completely empty page. She hadn't written a single pro-or-con list in three weeks.

She felt a large, warm palm slide over her freezing fingers.

Wonwoo was sitting next to her, his thighs pressed tightly against hers in the cramped space, his reading glasses caught in the collar of his hoodie. He didn't look down at her phone screen. He didn't ask if she had made up her mind, or if the countdown was shrinking.

"Your voice sounded clear on the monitoring playback," Wonwoo said softly, his deep baritone a grounding weight against the hum of the van's engine. "The mixing team didn't drop your lower register this time."

"Jihoon-oppa stayed in the engineering room until four in the morning to make sure they didn't," Y/N whispered, her fingers curling slightly around Wonwoo’s thumb. "He didn't tell me, but Minghao saw his car in the lot."

Wonwoo let out a soft, low breath, his chest expanding against her shoulder. "They're trying, Y/N-ah. The whole house is trying."

"I know," she said.

She looked down at the empty note on her screen. The terrifying, heavy truth was still there the system was still massive, the industry was still clinical, and the scars of the past six years weren't going to vanish because of one good promotion cycle. She could still feel the phantom pull of that legal extension, the quiet allure of a life where she didn't have to fight for three seconds of air.

But as the van pulled into the dark basement garage of their dorm, she saw the door to the second van slide open. Seungkwan stepped out, immediately looking around the concrete space until his eyes locked onto her window, his face breaking into a small, tentative smile when he saw her wave back.

"Are you still thinking about it?" Wonwoo asked quietly, his grip on her hand tightening just a fraction as the engine cut out, leaving them in the dim, quiet luxury of the car.

Y/N turned her head, looking into his steady, intense eyes. There was no desperation in his face anymore just the unyielding, patient loyalty of a brother who was willing to wait at the edge of the line for as long as it took.

"Yes," Y/N whispered, her voice entirely honest. "I'm still thinking about it every day, oppa."

Wonwoo gave a single, slow nod, his thumb tracing the fragile skin of her wrist. He slid his fingers down, interlocking them with hers securely before reaching for the car door handle.

"Then we'll keep showing you the light tomorrow," Wonwoo murmured, pulling her gently out into the concrete garage where the other twelve were already waiting by the elevator, holding the door open for the fourteenth member to step in first. "Every single day until you decide to stay."

The final broadcast of the repackage promotions ended on a rainy Sunday night. The rest of the group had gone back to the main dorm in the first two vans, but Wonwoo had quietly spoken to their primary manager before the final stage. He didn't want the dorm tonight. He didn't want the kitchen table, the lingering, anxious glances of the other twelve, or the heavy, unspoken countdown that hung over the living room.

He had taken her keys, borrowed the manager's personal car, and driven her completely out of Seoul.

By 1:30 AM, they were parked at an abandoned, gravelly overlook near the old reservoir in Gapyeong a place they used to sneak away to during their brutal trainee days when the green basement felt like it was swallowing them alive. The rain pattered against the windshield in a steady, hypnotic rhythm, the dashboard clock throwing a faint, amber glow over Wonwoo’s face. He had taken off his stage makeup, stripped out of his performance velvet, and wore an oversized gray sweater that made him look like the boy she had met when she was thirteen years old.

He cut the engine, but he didn't pull his hands off the steering wheel. For a long time, he just stared out at the dark, rain-slicked water of the reservoir.

"You haven’t opened your notes app in three days," Wonwoo said, his deep baritone cutting through the quiet hum of the rain. It wasn't an accusation. His voice was thick, heavier than usual, carrying the exhaustion of a man who had been holding his breath for a month.

Y/N leaned her head back against the passenger seat, staring at his profile. "I didn't know you were tracking my screen time, oppa."

"I track everything about you, Y/N-ah," he murmured, his fingers finally dropping from the wheel. He shifted in his seat, turning his entire body to face her, drawing one leg up onto the cushion. He reached into the backseat, pulled out a thick, fleece blanket, and gently draped it over her lap, tucking the edges around her waist with a familiar, practiced care.

"I’ve been tracking you since 2015. And I think... I think I’ve been too quiet for too long. Everyone else has yelled. Coups threatened to strike, Jihoon spent eighty hours in the studio, Hao practically tore the storage room apart. But I haven’t really talked to you. Not about everything."

He let out a long, ragged breath, his shoulders dropping. His sharp eyes, usually so guarded behind his glasses, were wide, watery, and intensely vulnerable under the dim dashboard light.

"I remember the day you entered Pledis," Wonwoo started, his voice dropping into a rhythmic, melancholic cadence. He was doing more than talking; he was opening a valve that had been sealed shut for six years. "You were thirteen. You had these giant, terrified eyes, and your knees were bruised from practicing the debut evaluations until two in the morning. Do you remember what the trainers told us the first week you arrived? They sat the thirteen of us down and said, 'She’s the wildcard. If she doesn't fit the image by next evaluation, we drop her and revert to the original line-up.' From day one, they treated your existence in our lives like a temporary trial."

Y/N swallowed hard, the memory hitting her like a cold wave. "I forgot they said that."

"I didn't," Wonwoo whispered, a heavy, emotional crack breaking through his tone. "I didn't forget because I spent that entire week watching you hide behind the water purifier so you wouldn't get in anyone's way. And do you remember what happened during the Adore U promotions? When the first hate threads came out? The fans were furious that a girl had been added to a boy group. They cropped you out of the fansite photos. They blurred your face in the music video edits."

He reached out, his long, cool fingers gently capturing her right hand from beneath the fleece blanket. He didn't hold it tightly; he just cradled her palm in his, his thumb tracing the small scar near her index finger a reminder of a broken stage prop from their first year on tour.

"Back then, I promised myself I would be your safe spot," Wonwoo said, his eyes shining with unshed tears as he looked down at their hands. "I told myself, "As long as Wonwoo is standing next to her, she won't feel the cold." When we did the vocal team switches, I always made sure our mics shared the same frequency block so I could hear you breathing during the live stages. When we had those awful, crowded corporate dinners where the executives would ignore you and talk over your head to Coups, I would deliberately drop my chopsticks or complain about the food just to pull the attention away from you. I thought I was protecting you, Y/N-ah. I thought my silence was a shield."

He paused, his chest heaving as a quiet, choked sound escaped his throat. He lifted his other hand, taking off his glasses and rubbing his face fiercely, trying to stem the pressure behind his eyes. When he looked back at her, a single tear had escaped, tracking down his cheekbone into the dark fabric of his collar.

"But I was wrong," he confessed, his voice trembling violently now, fully exposed to the raw weight of his own guilt. "My silence wasn't a shield. It was just another layer of the dark. I was so comfortable having you in my corner, so selfishly happy that I had a sister who understood the quiet parts of my soul, that I didn't see the erosion. I watched Jihoon take your melodies because the company wanted a more 'aggressive masculine bass line,' and I didn't fight him. I watched Soonyoung move you to the back wing during Don't Wanna Cry because the visual symmetry looked better with Mingyu in the center, and I just stood on my mark and let it happen. I let them turn my sister into a ghost because I was too cowardly to disrupt the peace of the group."

"Woo, stop," Y/N whispered, her own tears blurring her vision, her chest aching at the sheer amount of agony in his voice. "You didn't do those things. The company did. The directors did."

"No, I let them do it!" Wonwoo’s voice finally rose, a rare, heartbreaking burst of raw volume that echoed inside the small car. He grabbed her hand with both of his now, holding it against his chest, right over the frantic, heavy thudding of his heart.

"I am a senior member of this group. I am part of the foundation. If I had opened my mouth three years ago, if I had stood up during the production meetings and said, 'If Y/N isn't singing the second verse, I’m not singing the first,' we wouldn't be sitting in a dark car in Gapyeong while you decide whether or not to destroy your own contract."

He leaned forward, his forehead dropping onto their joined hands, his shoulders shaking as the dam finally burst completely. Jeon Wonwoo, who never cried in public, who had buried his own deepest personal griefs away from the cameras, was falling apart in her lap.

"When I saw Team 2 on your phone that night," he wept, his voice muffled against her skin, "it felt like my entire life was being rewritten as a failure. I spent six years thinking I was your anchor, but I was just the weight holding you underwater. The thought of walking into that rehearsal room... of looking at the tape on the floor where your feet are supposed to be it makes me feel like I’m suffocating, Y/N-ah. I don't care about the perfect all-kills. I don't care about the stadiums. If you leave this group because we starved you of light, then everything we’ve built is just a monument to our own selfishness."

He lifted his head slowly, his face soaked with tears, his expression completely broken open. He reached up, his long, trembling fingers gently cupping both sides of her face, his thumbs wiping the tears from her cheeks with a desperate, frantic tenderness.

"I know you’re still thinking about it," Wonwoo whispered, his breath hot and ragged against her face. "I know every time you look at the schedule, you’re calculating how much strength you have left before you drop the pen. And I won't stop you if you need to go. If your soul cannot survive this machine, I will personally sign your exit papers as a witness. But please... please don't think you were an extra. Don't think you were a variable. You were the only reason the green basement didn't drive me crazy. You were the only person who saw me, not Seventeen's Wonwoo. If you leave, leave because you want a bigger world, Y/N-ah. Don't leave because you think we don't know the color of your eyes."

He fell silent then, his hands remaining on her cheeks, his forehead leaning forward until it rested gently against hers. The rain continued to smash against the glass, a chaotic wall of sound that shut out the rest of the universe, leaving the two of them entirely alone in the wreckage of six years of unspoken devotion.

YOON JEONGHAN — 윤정한

HONG JISOO — 홍지수

WEN JUNHUI — 文俊辉

KWON SOONYOUNG — 권순영

JEON WONWOO — 전원우

LEE JIHOON — 이지훈

seungcheol : man would be a little flustered when you told him he texted you while he was drunk. tons of thoughts went through his mind—what did i say? how did i say it? how did you feel when i texted you? and his embarrassment gets even worse once you show him the text.

jeonghan : i feel like he'd be embarrassed at first but once he saw the texts he's like, oh well it's not that bad. so it's chill for him🤷‍♀️ he's a little grateful he didn't say anything weird to you once you actually picked him up with joshua sitting next to him that night.

joshua : he'd first say sorry for bothering you and asking you to pick him up when it was his own fault that he got so drunk.. then he would die from embarrassment the moment you told him he texted you. no, he doesn't want to know what he said. yes, he cleared the chat right away so he'd forget about it.

junhui : "i don't know what you're talking about," he says. but his ears are as red as tomatoes. jun is aware of how he gets whenever he's drunk—that's why he always keeps his phone away from him whenever he starts to drink—because he doesn't want to accidentally text someone while drunk. now that it happened between you and him, he wishes you'd forget about it.

soonyoung : a little embarrassed but mostly doesn't care cs he gets to make out with you in the car, lol. 10/10 experience, he said, would try it again. he says that it feels great to have someone take care of him when he's drunk. "i would definitely get sooo drunk that you'd have to pick me up again." he says with a stupid grin on his face.

wonwoo : was he even drunk? well, he was a little tipsy, to say the least. wonwoo was never one to drink alcohol much anyway. he knows his limits when it comes to them—but he didn't expect you'd be the one getting drunk instead. he sighs a lot—not expecting he'd take care of eleven drunk men+his own partner that night.

jihoon : he's traumatized. jihoon doesn't drink much—nor at all, honestly. and it's because he's not great at handling them. he gets red-faced easily, and that's why he brings his own drink of choice to these kinds of gatherings. he didn't expect he'd accidentally drank from soonyoung's glass, however—which resulted in his face immediately turning red. ah, who's idea was it to even put his coke right next to soonyoung's beer?! oh, right. it was his. and now he has twelve men+his own partner laughing about it in his face (affectionately).

title: The After Taste pairing: Baseball player!Seungcheol x f!Reader summary: From the outside looking in Seungcheol has the perfect life. He’s the star player for a major league baseball team. The only thing missing in his life is girl to share his life with. He pretty sure he’s found the perfect girl. The only issue is, she’s his best friend’s ex. Turns out things might not be as perfect as you people think they are. genre: romance, smut, angst, friends with benefits general warnings: Seungcheol is pretty dumb sometimes, and Jeonghan is a menace, general adult content, smut.

General Manager: @straylightdream | Preseason Notes | Box Score

title: analyze that pairing: sports psych!jeonghan x f. trainer!reader summary: you're a little skeptical at first, when the team adds a new full time position to the staff for a mental wellness director. but, jeonghan's office quickly becomes your safe space when you're at your wit's end over dealing with the players. and you might just get a little more than you bargained for in that office. genre: fluff, smut, attempt at humor general warnings: jeonghan is a menace, mentions of baseball injuries, brief discussions of mental health, NSFW content

General Manager: @starlightkyeom | Preseason Notes | Box Score

title: hit and run pairing: joshua x f.reader summary: new job, new city, new you! in dire need of a reset, you make a career change and move to the same town where your recently wed bff lives with her triple-A baseball-playing husband. things are looking up until life throws you a curveball in the form of one of his teammates, joshua hong - the wedding night home run who ghosted you the morning after. what happens when the feelings you thought you’d left behind come running back? will joshua steal your heart again, like stealing bases in a hit and run? genre: smut, angst, fluff, strangers to lovers, baseball!au general warnings: smut, one night stand returns, misunderstandings, unresolved feelings

General Manager: @minisugakoobies Box Score

title: For the Love (of the Game) pairing: jun x fem.oc summary: you've accepted your place in the world of baseball; you know what you're good at. outside of the dugout and locker room, certain university classes are NOT what you're good at. asking for help feels weak, especially from the perpetually smiley cheerleader who you're sure is just as dumb as he is pretty. genre: uni au, coming of age, one-sided enemies to lovers general warnings: crass language (not from jun), cynicism, a terrible situationship (in the past and not w/jun), misogyny and derogatory remarks for defying accepted culture norms, misunderstandings, minors do not read/interact

General Manager: @yoongihan | Preseason Notes | Box Score

title: Warning Track pairing: Baseball player!Soonyoung x Reader summary: When you let your friends take you to your first baseball game, you didn’t expect to enjoy it. You especially didn’t expect the right field to go over the fence and into your lap. genre: Romcom, Smut general warnings: General adult content, smut, a bit pwp

General Manager: @sailorsoons | Box Score

title: Take Me Out (NOT To The Ball Game) pairing: wonwoo x f!reader summary: In which Wonwoo realises his internet happenings can sometimes have real life repercussions, manifesting at his doorstep in a SVT jersey and steam blowing out your ears. Wonwoo learns a few lessons, but most of all, how the fans seem to have the one thing the team lacks; consistency. general warnings: wonwoo is an asshole on the internet for fun, reader is emotional about her fav team, doxxing themes.

General Manager: @gyuswhore | Box Score

title: strikeout pairing: baseball coaches! woozi x reader summary: lee jihoon doesn't understand why he is not a shoo-in for the role of head baseball coach for his high school. he's a former national team player, he was on the starting lineup for the Kia tigers, and most of all, he's won the National sports festival twice. but of course, the wrench in his plans is you--also former national team player, also former league baseball player. and two-time winner of the national sports festival. only one can survive this war, which means they are now enemies who have to work together—and win the national sports festival one more time while they're at it. genres: rivals to lovers, comedy, fluff, smut general warnings: bedroom business shall be conducted, so please show yourself out. General Manager: @shinysobi | Box Score

title: home ↔ run pairing: seokmin x f. reader summary: after an off-season bidding war that sent the league into a frenzy, lee seokmin is the new starting pitcher for the los angeles dodgers. problem is, he's on a superstar trajectory nearly 10,000 kilometers away from everything he's ever known. now, he has a year to decide: return to what's familiar, or fall in love and risk everything the two of you have worked so hard for. genre: strangers to friends to lovers, coworkers, baseball au; fluff, smut, slight angst general warnings: adult content, power dynamics (reader works for the team)

General Manager: @100vern | Box Score

title: the diamond life. pairing: minghao x f. reader summary: reuniting with an rare two-night stand on the mound was not something you ever thought would happen — but it’s not like he remembered who you were, anyway…right? genre: not-so-strangers to lovers, baseball au; angst, smut, fluff. general warnings: they fuck a few times, they also cry a lot. very tumultuous relationship. mentions of alcohol, food, smoking and general relationship dynamics.

General Manager: @haologram | Box Score

title: Impossible pairing: baseball player!Mingyu x f!reader summary: Mingyu, the city's star pitcher, is everywhere. His face is on the city buses. His interviews play on the televisions in the waiting room at the doctor’s office. His stupid social media videos are constantly in your face. As a non-sport girlie, this would be annoying. As his ex, it's downright painful. You can't escape your past with Mingyu. Not in this city. It'd be nothing short of impossible. genre: exes to lovers, angst with happy ending general warnings: language, drinking, injury, legal use of prescription pain medications, hurt feelings, not miscom-miscom but poor communication or lack of it in the past, kissing

General Manager: @daechwitatamic | Box Score

title: pitch a date pairing: baseball coach!seungkwan x f!reader summary: Days are always spent the same for you: serving smoothies to sweaty teens after their practice, getting your ears used to the constant murmur, and watching the baseball coach from afar. You thought you were doing a good job at hiding your little workplace crush, until two girls that get benched for the season begin scheming to set you two up. But there's no way overly flirty Seungkwan could actually be interested. genre: coworkers to lovers, fluff, comedy, smut warnings: overwhelming environment, mention of career ending injury, mention of other injuries, explicit smut.

General Manager: @hannieoftheyear | Box Score

title: soft launch pairing: vernon x f.reader summary: An intervention from your well-meaning but frankly cruel friends leaves you without access to your credit cards, which you suppose is a blessing in disguise, but the debt is still looming over your head. It’s just as well the offer from your ex boyfriend turned Yankees pitcher comes at the perfect time. For a couple of celebrity infested parties, a little hand holding in public, and a few vague posts on instagram— something to distract eyes from his situationship with his teammates soon-to-be-ex wife— Vernon will pay off your debts in full. Hell, he’ll even throw in tickets to a game or two. genre: fluff, comedy, smut, fake dating, exes to friends to lovers warnings: not cheating but not exactly cool either, messy feelings & messy characters (intentional), debt as a plot device, adult content, shopping addiction

General Manager: @imnotshua | Preseason Notes | Box Score

title: slow motion pairing: dino x f!reader summary: when chan’s nascent baseball career takes him across an ocean and catapults him straight into the majors, he doesn’t just leave behind his hometown—he leaves you, too. but the pressure has him crumbling, and he realizes that all of his success means nothing without you. genre: exes to lovers; angst, fluff general warnings: adult content (minors DNI), breakups, verbal arguments, alcohol/drunkenness, mental health issues