u should make a yoonchae x 7th reader where reader is about the same age both are so oblivious to each other it makes 0t5 katseye wan to pull their hair out
Oblivious?
- summary : yoonch and you being so oblivious and katz is gonna crash out so they spy on u two.
- warnings : yoonchae x f!reader, 7th member r, reader is 17, fluff, cute stuff, r and yoonch being cuties, n idk.
the whole katseye dorm had one shared braincell that week and it was dedicated to exactly one thought : how are y/n and yoonchae THIS dumb.
like it was reaching emergency levels.
because yoonchae ( who is 17 ) and y/n ( also 17, equally clueless ) moved around each other like two sims with low autonomy like orbiting, staring, blushing, but never connecting the final dot.
it started small. yoonchae sitting next to y/n on the couch even when the entire rest of the sofa was empty. y/n handing yoonchae her water bottle without being asked. both of them giggling at absolutely nothing like they had their own secret language.
the rest of the girls noticed immediately.
dani looked at them, dead inside. “they’re gonna give me wrinkles.”
manon whispered, “they don’t even realize they like each other… this is worse than sophia thinking the oven was broken when she forgot to turn it on.”
sophia whacked her arm. “LET IT GO.”
but the final straw came on a quiet saturday, when y/n and yoonchae were on the floor building lego like two children, and lara passed by to witness something so painfully innocent it made her want to scream.
yoonchae picked up a lego piece, handed it to y/n, and softly said, “i thought of you when i found this one.”
it was literally just a blue brick.
y/n took it like it was a diamond ring. “oh… thanks… that’s… really nice.”
they stared at each other for a full five seconds. blushing. smiling. doing nothing. lara walked straight into sophia’s room and said, “we need an intervention.”
sophia blinked. “what happened now?”
“they flirted over a lego brick.”
sophia looked horrified. “oh my god.”
later that evening, all five members were stuffed behind the hallway wall like spies, trying to watch the two idiots in the kitchen.
y/n was trying to reach a mug on the top shelf. yoonchae stood behind her, hands tentatively hovering like she wanted to help but was too shy to actually touch her.
“i can get it for you,” yoonchae said, voice soft.
“no it’s okay,” y/n said, immediately struggling but refusing to admit defeat, “i’m tall enough.”
she was absolutely not tall enough.
yoonchae reached over her anyway and grabbed the mug in two seconds. y/n froze under her arm like it was the most intimate act known to humankind.
yoonchae handed it to her with the shyest smile ever. “here.”
and y/n whispered, “thank you…” like yoonchae had saved her life.
from the hallway, dani slapped a hand over her mouth. “i can’t do this. i can’t watch this anymore.”
megan shook her head slowly. “this is torture. i feel physically ill.”
lara muttered, “they’re gonna be eighty and still calling each other ‘special friends’.”
even sophia, who usually had the patience of a saint, whispered, “if they don’t confess soon i’m locking them in a room.”
manon nodded. “seconded.”
meanwhile, back in the kitchen, yoonchae and y/n were still standing awkwardly close.
yoonchae finally worked up the courage. “um… do you… maybe wanna go get ice cream later? like… with me?”
y/n blinked, heart stopping. “like… together?”
yoonchae nodded. “yeah… i mean… i think it’d be fun if it was just us…” y/n’s face went red in 0.01 seconds. “o-oh. yeah. i’d like that…”
soft smiling. awkward shifting… more smiling.
from the hallway, the girls collectively collapsed like they’d just run a marathon.
“FINALLY,” sophia whispered, clutching her chest.
dani fanned herself. “i aged ten years.”
megan groaned into her hands. “i hate this. i love them but i hate this.”
lara quietly wiped a tear. “my babies… they’re growing…”
yoonchae and y/n walked past them holding hands, too lost in their shy little bubble to even notice everyone smashed against the wall like idiots.
and the whole group just watched them go, exhausted but relieved. manon sighed. “do you think they know they’re basically dating now?”
sophia shook her head. “no. absolutely not.”
dani groaned. “we’re never getting a break.”
the moment y/n and yoonchae left the dorm hand-in-hand, the rest of katseye moved like a military operation. sophia grabbed her jacket. dani took her phone. manon was already tying her shoelaces like she had trained for this exact mission. megan shoved a cap on lara’s head so she looked less recognizable.
they weren’t even being subtle about it.
“i refuse,” sophia whispered as she tiptoed down the hall, “to let those two go on a first date alone. they’ll probably think they’re on a school project outing.”
dani snorted into her sleeve. “they’re gonna share ice cream and be like, ‘wow, friendship is crazy.’”
megan whispered, “no. i’m done. i’m done being their babysitter. but i’m also coming. let’s go.”
down the street, y/n and yoonchae were walking like two awkward penguins—a little too close, a little too stiff, hands brushing every few steps like neither of them knew what to do with their limbs.
yoonchae saw a dog and got excited. y/n saw yoonchae get excited and got even more excited.
none of this was romantic in their heads but somehow unbelievably romantic at the same time.
behind them, the rest of katseye shuffled into a bush like it was part of the plan.
literally a whole bush. six girls stuffed together, crouched, breathing too loud.
megan whispered, “i can see them. oh my god. yoonchae is trying so hard to flirt, she looks like she’s buffering.”
dani nearly choked on her own laughter. “LOOK. Y/N IS HOLDING THE ICE CREAM LIKE IT’S A PROPOSAL.”
sophia got emotional way too fast. “they’re so cute… but they’re so obvious… i want to squeeze them.”
y/n took a bite of her ice cream and immediately handed it to yoonchae with a quiet “try it,” like she’d just given her the keys to her heart.
yoonchae tasted it, blushed, then handed hers back like it was a sacred ritual.
inside the bush, manon slapped sophia’s arm. “THEY JUST INDIRECT KISSED.”
lara gasped. “THIS IS BIG. THIS IS HISTORY.”
megan shoved them both. “shut up they’re gonna hear us—”
the bush rustled violently.
y/n paused mid-lick. “did you… hear something?”
yoonchae looked around, wide-eyed. “maybe it’s a cat?”
in the bush, five fully grown girls froze.
dani mouthed, you’re the cat.
megan stomped on her foot.
y/n shrugged it off and kept walking. yoonchae followed, still holding hands like she didn’t realize it. the bush squad exhaled like they had survived war.
they followed the couple to a small park. the sun was setting. the lights were warm. it was legitimately the perfect romantic moment.
y/n sat on the swings, gently pushing her feet. yoonchae took the one next to her, swaying like she couldn’t sit still.
they were talking so softly that the spying crew had to lean out from behind a tree to hear anything.
“i had a really nice time,” yoonchae said, voice tiny. y/n smiled at her like she’d just been handed happiness. “i… did too. a lot.”
yoonchae kicked her feet once, nervous. “we should do this again.”
“i want to,” y/n said.
the girls behind the tree instantly turned feral.
lara actually silently punched the air. sophia covered her mouth so she wouldn’t squeal. dani looked like she was going to pass out. manon wiped a tear. megan leaned her head against the trunk like she was praying.
and then it happened.
yoonchae reached out and gently linked their fingers together again.
just simple one.
y/n immediately turned bright red but didn’t pull away—she squeezed back.
the reaction behind the tree was not simple, soft, or honest. the tree literally shook from how hard they all silently screamed at the same time.
yoonchae looked up. “did the tree just… move?”
y/n blinked. “maybe… wind?”
there was zero wind.
but somehow they didn’t question it enough to expose the entire adult team spying on their date.
the two walked home still holding hands, shoulders brushing.
the moment they disappeared around the corner, the entire group behind the tree collapsed onto the grass in dramatic silence.
megan whisper-yelled, “THAT WAS THE MOST FRUSTRATINGLY WHOLESOME DATE I’VE EVER SEEN.”
sophia sighed dramatically. “i’m so proud… but also so tired…”
lara nodded. “they’re gonna kill us with how slow they are.”
dani groaned, “it’s never gonna be easy with them, is it?”
manon lay flat on her back. “unfortunately no.”
a/n : im gonna disappear for 2 weeks ( maybe more ) bcz of exams, so here u go 😋
Hiii, I really love your works and I was hoping you could make a fic Megan x reader and like reader is really tough Infront of cameras but in the group house and with the girls she's really soft and sweet in her own way and she's got a tiny elephant plushie she carries everywhere secretly? PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE IM BEGGING YOU RAHHHHH 😭🙏🙏🙏🙏
Elephant plushie!
- summary : you being the “ice” girl in katseye but turns out to be the softest bcz tiny elephant plushie is ur comfort :>
- warnings : megan skiendiel x f!reader, reader is 7th member, fluff, lowk making out, and idk.
y/n was katseye’s so-called “scary one.” cameras on and she turned into stone. sharp stare, quiet, cold, intimidating.
the fans loved to joke she didn’t even smile offstage.
if only they knew.
because inside the group house, when the cameras were gone and the girls were half-dead from practice, y/n turned soft. and the softest thing about her was the tiny elephant plushie she kept hidden like it was classified information. she took it everywhere, tucked deep inside her hoodie, her bag, her jacket. nobody ever noticed.
at least, that’s what she thought.
one morning she fell asleep on the couch after practice, completely knocked out and right there under her chin… the elephant. she was hugging it like it was the love of her life.
the first one to walk in was manon. she stopped mid-step, staring like she just uncovered forbidden footage.
she didn’t scream or laugh—she just slowly backed up and whispered for the others.
soon sophia came in with a snack in her hand, lara tiptoeing behind her, dani dragging a blanket, yoonchae bouncing excitedly, and megan walking in last, confused why everyone was gathered like it was a crime scene.
and when megan saw y/n on the couch, asleep with her elephant, her whole face melted. she looked like someone who just got handed a baby to hold for the first time. ( its not the first time she saw it )
nobody said a word. they just stared at y/n in awe.
yoonchae whispered first, “unnie sleeps with an elephant…” like it was a revelation.
sophia whispered back, “i think i’m gonna cry.”
manon covered her mouth to stop from squealing. sophia was already misty-eyed. dani took out her phone. megan whispered, “don’t you dare,” and dani put it away with a groan. lara mumbled something about posting it in the gc.
y/n woke up to the sound of six people failing to shut up. her eyes opened slowly. then she saw them. staring. smiling. holding back laughter. she looked down and saw the elephant in her arms—
and her soul left her body.
she sat up so fast the blanket flew off. “no.”
manon grinned, “yes.”
sophia nodded, “we saw everything.”
y/n wanted to evaporate. she snatched the elephant and hid it behind her like that would somehow erase the whole situation.
before she could run, megan sat beside her, looking too calm for the chaos happening around them. she touched y/n’s shoulder and whispered, “it’s okay. it’s cute.”
y/n glared at the girls like she was about to list their crimes. “none of you saw anything.”
which would’ve been convincing if the elephant didn’t peek out behind her elbow.
yoonchae practically vibrated. “does she have a name??”
“no,” y/n said instantly.
but her ears turned pink, which made everyone explode into noises. megan leaned closer, her voice soft and smug, “babe, i’ve literally watched you cuddle her every night. no point hiding it.”
the girls lost it at the word babe. y/n wanted to sink into the couch and never return.
she grabbed megan’s sleeve like she needed to be rescued from her own embarrassment. “take me upstairs. before they start naming it.”
megan stood immediately because she was absolutely enjoying this. y/n followed her out of the room while the others whispered behind them, very loudly, about crowns and outfits for the elephant.
once they were in y/n’s room, the door shut, and y/n groaned into her hands. “i’m supposed to be the cool one.” megan kissed the top of her head. “you are. you’re cool and soft. i like both.”
y/n lifted her head just enough to glare at her. “don’t use this against me.” megan smiled like she already planned to. “no promises.”
from downstairs, someone yelled, “WE’RE MAKING HER A TINY BED.”
y/n shouted back, “IF ANYONE TOUCHES MY ELEPHANT AGAIN I’M HIDING ALL YOUR SNACKS.”
the girls screamed in protest.
megan laughed into her shoulder while y/n hid her face in her plushie, pretending she wasn’t secretly happy everyone knew.
y/n refusing to come out of her shame cocoon. megan lay beside, legs crossed, looking way too amused for someone watching her girlfriend die internally.
“they’re gonna talk about this for weeks,” megan said, pretending to pout. “my girlfriend hugs a plushie and suddenly everyone thinks it’s the cutest thing ever. where’s that energy when i’m around?”
y/n squinted at her from behind the elephant. “are you… jealous? of a stuffed animal?”
megan flicked her hair back dramatically. “maybe. it gets more affection than i do.” y/n snorted. “oh my god.” megan leaned forward, resting her chin on y/n’s shoulder. “i’m just saying. i’ve never seen you hold me that tightly while you sleep.”
y/n shoved her lightly. “because you move too much. you kick.”
“i do not kick.”
“you kicked me last night.”
“that wasn’t a kick, it was a loving tap.”
y/n stared at her. “on my ribs.”
megan grinned like she wasn’t even trying to defend herself anymore. “okay fine. whatever. point is—i want equal cuddle rights.”
y/n sighed and dropped the elephant on the bed, finally showing her face. “you’re stupid.”
“but you love me though.” megan said, smug.
y/n opened her mouth to argue, but megan gently grabbed her jaw and pulled her close enough that the argument melted out of her head. megan kissed her once, soft and slow, and y/n’s shoulders finally relaxed.
then megan kissed her again, deeper this time, her hands sliding up to the back of y/n’s neck. y/n mumbled something that was supposed to be a complaint but sounded more like she forgot how to breathe. she pulled megan onto her lap, fingers gripping her waist like she needed to steady herself.
megan smiled against her mouth. “see? you do like me more than the elephant.”
y/n didn’t even answer—she just kissed her harder, hands in her hair, pulling her closer, like she was done pretending she wasn’t melting.
they were just getting into it, lips moving slow and lazy, y/n’s hoodie slipping off her shoulder as megan leaned into her—
when the door slammed open.
the girls froze in the doorway like they walked in on a murder scene.
sophia dropped her jaw. dani gasped so loud it echoed down the hall. manon just blinked like this was the most obvious thing in the world.
lara reacted the fastest—she immediately slapped her hand over yoonchae’s eyes.
“don’t look, child,” lara said, dead serious.
yoonchae yelled behind her palms, “UNNIE LET ME SEE—”
“NO.”
y/n went still, lips still touching megan’s for half a second before she tore away like she’d been electrocuted. megan just sat there, blinking slowly, like this was somehow the most normal thing ever.
y/n’s face turned bright red. “get. out.” sophia was wheezing. “we were just coming to ask if you guys wanted jolibee—”
dani pointed. “you two were eating something else, nevermind.”
“GET OUT,” y/n shouted again, voice cracking.
manon mumbled, “sorry,” but still didn’t close the door until lara physically dragged them all out.
the second the door slammed shut, yoonchae yelled down the hall, “WHY DID YOU COVER MY EYES I’M NOT FIVE—”
lara yelled back, “YOU DON’T NEED TO SEE YOUR UNNIES SWAPPING SALIVA.”
y/n pressed her hands over her face. “i’m moving out.” megan slid off her lap, leaning against her shoulder with the most satisfied grin ever. “me two.”
y/n groaned. “i hate everyone.”
“no you don’t!” megan said, interlocking their fingers. “you love me. and unfortunately for you, they now know we make out like normal people.”
y/n groaned louder.
megan kissed her cheek. “also… i wasn’t done.”
y/n nearly died. “megan—”
but then the girls yelled from the hallway again and the moment was absolutely over.
a/n : see how these type of fics was made faster? BCS I DONT HAVE TO SS EVERY FAKE CHATS AND DELETE SOME BCZ I HAVE TO PAY FOR UNLIMITED MESSAGES.
- summary : manon REALLY likes to show you off to everyone.
- warnings : manon bannerman x f!reader, manon calls u mama, protective manon, this guy doesn’t take a ‘no’ for an answer, manon kick his ass out, cussing, popular manon, moments of manon showing u off, n idk.
manon has always been the sun in every room.
she walks in and people orbit. friends from stylists, photographers, old high school classmates, even strangers who recognize her from a random viral clip.
she’s magnetic without trying.
that easy laugh, the way she remembers tiny details about everyone, the effortless way she makes people feel seen.
but dating? manon’s never really done it. not seriously.
she’d flirt, go on a few lowkey dinners, ghost after the third text. friends used to tease her about it, ‘manon doesn’t commitment’ and she’d just laugh and change the subject.
then she met you.
it started slow. late night studio sessions where she’d stay after everyone left just to ‘help’ you pack up equipment.
coffee runs that turned into three hour conversations.
her hand brushing yours when she passed you a drink, lingering a second too long.
the first time she called you ‘baby’ it was casual, teasing, but her eyes were soft.
by the time she asked you out, almost shyly, in the back of a car after a long day, you already knew you were done for.
and once you said yes, manon stopped hiding.
she doesn’t do grand gestures or loud announcements.
she just… shows you off in the proudest ways. like you’re her favorite secret that she finally gets to tell everyone.
1.
the first party after you started dating. it’s a lowkey house gathering at one of her producer friend’s places in silver lake.
music thumping, people spilling out onto the patio, lights strung across the backyard.
manon walks in holding your hand—fingers laced tight, thumb stroking your knuckles like it’s the most natural thing in the world.
within ten minutes her friends swarm her.
“manon! you’re finally here—”
“bro where’ve you been”
“you killed that last show—”
they surround her in a loose circle, laughing, talking over each other.
you hang back a step, smiling awkwardly, not wanting to interrupt.
you’re still getting used to how big her world is.
manon notices immediately. she doesn’t let go of your hand, instead she tugs you forward gently, right into the center of the circle.
her arm slides around your waist, pulling your side flush against hers. “guys,” she says, voice calm but proud, “this is my girlfriend.”
the circle goes quiet for half a second, then erupts.
“wait WHAT—”
“no way dudee,”
“since when?!”
manon just smiles, small and smug, chin resting on your shoulder for a second while she lets them freak out.
she doesn’t say much, just keeps her arm around you, thumb rubbing slow circles on your hip, like she’s saying without words; i have a amazing girlfriend, and i’m not letting go.
2.
you’re pushing the cart through whole foods on a sunday afternoon.
manon’s in her usual off-duty fit, black outfit, blue cap pulled low.
she’s got one hand on the cart handle next to yours, the other casually resting in your back pocket while you debate between two brands of oat milk.
an old friend from her high school days spots her in the aisle. “manon? yo!” they hug, catch up quick. the friend glances at you, polite smile.
“who’s this?”
manon doesn’t hesitate.
she hooks her arm around your shoulders, pulls you in close, and says, “this is my girlfriend. my favorite person.”
she says it so casually, like it’s the most obvious fact in the world.
your face heats up.
she kisses your temple right there in the middle of the aisle, then turns back to her friend like nothing happened.
later, when you’re loading bags into the car, she catches you smiling. “what?”
“nothing.“ she shrugs, but her eyes are soft.
3.
group dinner with her closest friends. it’s a small dinner at a bbq spot.
her ride or dies and a couple friends. everyone’s loud, passing meat, pouring alcohol, roasting each other.
manon’s sitting next to you, thigh pressed to yours under the table.
someone brings up dating. “manon, you still single? or you finally locked someone down?”
the table laughs. manon just smirks, reaches over, and laces her fingers with yours on top of the table—right where everyone can see.
“nah. been locked down for a while.”
she lifts your joined hands, kisses your knuckles once, quick and soft. “this one’s mine ya’ll.”
the table loses it.
teasing, someone yelling ‘finally!’ manon just grins, thumb stroking the back of your hand, completely unbothered.
later, when everyone’s distracted, she leans in and whispers against your ear, “i’ve been waiting months to do that in front of them.”
4.
it’s 2 a.m. you’re both craving ice cream. manon throws on a hoodie over her sports bra, you grab a jacket.
the store is empty except for the tired cashier.
you’re in the freezer aisle debating flavors when a random guy, maybe early twenties walks by, does a double take at manon, and says something cheesy like ‘damn, you’re even prettier in person.’ manon doesn’t even flinch.
she just steps behind you, arms sliding around your waist, chin on your shoulder.
“thanks,” she says to the guy, voice flat, “but i’m taken.” then she kisses the side of your neck, right in front of him.
he mumbles something and leaves fast. manon doesn’t acknowledge it again, just grabs the ice cream, pays, and holds your hand the whole walk home.
at the elevator she pulls you in, kisses you properly, deep, soft, hands on your face.
“i like showing you off,” she murmurs. “makes me feel like the luckiest person alive.”
5.
he quiet moment after a long dayyou’re both on the couch after a late rehearsal.
she’s in your lap, head on your chest, your fingers playing with her hair. the tv’s on low, some random drama neither of you is watching.
she’s quiet for a while, then says, “you know i never brought anyone around before you.” you hum, keep stroking her hair.
“i didn’t want to. it always felt… temporary. like why bother introducing someone who’s not gonna stay?”
she lifts her head, looks at you. “but you? i want everyone to know. i want the whole world to know you’re mine.”
she kisses you like she’s sealing a promise. when she pulls back she’s smiling, soft and a little shy. “so yeah. get used to me showing you off. it’s not stopping anytime soon.”
and she doesn’t.
every day, in a hundred small ways, manon makes sure the people around her know; you’re hers.
and every time she does, you fall a little harder.
one day manon texts you at 3:17 p.m. on a random thursday.
babe pls come to this party tonight.
it’s at david’s place.
i know u hate crowds but i miss u and i want to show you off :(((
you stare at the message for a long minute.
you’re not big on parties. its too loud, too many people, too easy to get overwhelmed.
but manon’s been extra clingy lately, sending you good morning voice notes at 6 a.m., facetiming you during breaks just to say hi, calling you 'mama' in that soft, needy voice that makes your chest do stupid things.
you’re weak for her. you always have been.
so you reply.
fine. but only because you begged.
she sends back a string of heart-eyes emojis, a selfie of her pouting in the mirror with the caption;
thank uuuu i’ll make it worth it i promise ♡
you show up at david’s house around 9:30. it’s one of those big modern places in the hills—glass walls, infinity pool glowing blue in the backyard, music thumping low but heavy.
the crowd is a mix of music people, dancers, a few models, friends of friends. manon spots you the second you walk through the door.
she’s wearing all black, cropped tank, baggy cargo pants low on her hips, silver chain necklace. she looks effortlessly cool, like she belongs here, but the second she sees you her whole face lights up.
she pushes through a few people, grabs your hand, pulls you straight into her arms.
“you came,” she says against your ear, voice soft and happy. she smells like vanilla and the tiniest hint of smoke.
her arms wrap around your waist tight, like she’s afraid you’ll disappear.
“i said i would,” you murmur, hugging her back. your hand rests on the small of her back, feeling the warmth of her skin through the cropped top.
she pulls back just enough to look at you, eyes scanning your face like she’s memorizing it. “you look so pretty. fuck. i’m so happy you’re here.”
before you can answer, a group of her friends calls her name from across the room—loud, excited, waving her over.
“manon! come here! we need the party girl!”
manon groans softly but smiles. “give me two seconds, okay? wait right here. don’t move. i’ll be back.”
she kisses your cheek quick, squeezes your hand once, then gets pulled away by the group.
you watch her go, disappearing into the circle of laughter and raised glasses.
you lean against the wall near the kitchen, sipping the drink you grabbed something sweet and strong and try to blend into the background.
the music is loud, bodies moving, conversations overlapping.
you’re not uncomfortable exactly, just… out of your element.
you’re content to wait for manon to come back, watching her from across the room as she laughs and dances a little with her friends.
that’s when the guy approaches.
he’s tall, blond, wearing a graphic tee and too much cologne. he’s got that overconfident party smile, the one that says he’s used to getting what he wants.
“hey,” he says, leaning too close. “you look bored. need company?”
you give him a polite smile, the kind that doesn’t invite more. “i’m good, thanks. waiting for someone.”
he doesn’t take the hint. steps closer. “come on, don’t be like that. you’re too pretty to be standing here alone.”
you shift back, smile tightening. “i’m really fine. i have a girlfriend.”
his eyebrows lift, but the smile doesn’t drop. “oh, that’s cute. where is she?”
“with her friends.” you nod toward the group manon’s in. “she’ll be back any second.”
he glances over, then back at you. “well, she’s not here now.” he reaches out, fingers brushing your arm. “why don’t we—”
you step back, voice firmer. “don’t touch me.”
he laughs like it’s funny. “relax, i’m just being friendly—”
“she said don’t fucking touch her.”
the voice is low, calm, but sharp enough to cut through the music.
manon’s there suddenly, stepping between you and the guy, body angled to shield you completely.
her jaw is tight, eyes narrowed. the easy, playful energy she had with her friends is gone.
the guy blinks, surprised. “yo, chill, we were just—”
“you were just leaving,” manon says. her voice is quiet but steel. she doesn’t raise it. doesn’t need to. “now.”
he laughs again, nervous this time. “come on, manon, it’s a party—”
she turns her head slightly, eyes flicking toward david who’s already walking over, brow furrowed.
“david,” she calls, still calm. “your friend here needs to go.”
david looks between them, sees the tension, sees your uncomfortable expression.
he nods once.
“yeah. come on, man. let’s get some air.”
the guy protests, but david’s already steering him toward the door. he shoots manon a look. then disappears into the crowd.
the second he’s gone, manon turns to you.
her face changes instantly. anger melting into worry, eyes scanning you head to toe like she’s checking for damage.
“you okay, mama?” she asks softly, hands coming up to cup your cheeks. her thumbs stroke gently, voice dropping to that quiet, protective tone she only uses with you. “did he touch you? are you hurt?”
you shake your head, leaning into her touch. “i’m okay. he just… got too close. i told him no.”
manon’s thumbs keep moving, soothing. “i’m so sorry. i shouldn’t have left you. i thought it’d be two seconds—”
“it’s not your fault,” you say quickly. “he’s the asshole.”
she exhales hard, forehead pressing to yours. “still. i hate that he made you uncomfortable.” her hands slide down to your shoulders, rubbing slow circles. “you wanna leave? we can go right now. my place, your place, anywhere.”
you shake your head. “no. i’m okay now. i just… want to stay with you.”
her eyes soften even more.
she pulls you into her chest, arms wrapping around you tight, chin resting on top of your head.
“then stay right here. i’m not letting you out of my sight again tonight.”
she keeps you close the rest of the party.
one arm always around your waist or shoulders, fingers laced with yours, body angled to block anyone from getting too near.
every time someone approaches, she introduces you the same way, “this is my girlfriend,” said with that same proud, quiet certainty. no hesitation. no explanation needed.
when the night winds down and people start leaving, she walks you to the car, arm around your shoulders, your hand in hers.
in the passenger seat, she leans over, kisses your temple slow.
“i’m sorry again,” she whispers. “i hate that happened.”
you turn, cup her face. “you took care of it. it's okay”
she smiles small, leans in, kisses you properly, soft and lingering.
she’s making up for every second she wasn’t there.
“i love you so much,” she says against your lips. “and i’m never letting anyone make you uncomfortable again.”
you kiss her back, heart full.
“i know. and i love you too manon.”
and in that moment, surrounded by the quiet hum of the car and the glow of the dashboard, you feel completely safe. completely hers.
a/n : i’m back from vacay, yippie. meaning i’ll write more!
Can you do fem reader taking care of high Megan fluff. Lowk just had them thoughts after seeing them pics of Megan looking high asf
Don’t leave me high!
- summary : megan is high and yaps a lot n you take care of her. idk like anon requested.
- warnings : megan skiendiel x female!reader, fluffff, cuddling, ts is so cute, megan being high, smoke mentioned ig, megan yaps, n idk.
it’s a chilly day evening in los angeles. the house is quiet for once, just the soft hum of the heater kicking on and the distant rumble of traffic from the street below.
you’ve been girlfriend for months now, ever since that late night confession after a group hangout turned into something more.
tonight, though, she’s different. you hear the door click open around 10:30 p.m., giggles spilling out before she even steps inside.
the smell hits first—faint weed smoke clinging to her hoodie, mixed with kushi express takeout ( her favorite hainan chicken rice spot ) and that vanilla body spray she swears by. her sneakers squeak on the hardwood as she kicks them off haphazardly, one landing by the couch, the other halfway under the coffee table.
“baby? you home?” her voice is slurry-sweet, higher pitched than usual, words tumbling a little too fast.
you peek out from the kitchen, where you’ve been prepping her favorite late night snack; sliced cucumbers with chili salt, mango sticky rice from the fridge, and a big glass of electrolyte water because you know her post-high munchies routine like the back of your hand.
she stumbles in, still giggling to herself, phone clutched in one hand like it’s her lifeline.
her hair’s a mess, loose and frizzy from whatever wind or dancing she did outside.
her eyes are red-rimmed, half-lidded, cheeks flushed pink not from makeup, but from whatever she smoked with her friends.
“hi, mei,” you say softly, setting the tray down on the kitchen island and walking over.
she lights up like you flipped a switch, dropping her phone on the couch and launching herself at you.
her arms wrap around your waist tight, face burying into your neck, all 169 cm of her clinging like a koala.
“yyy/nnnn,” she draws out your name in that whiny, affectionate way she does when she’s high, nuzzling closer.
“missed you so much. we were at kushiiii—kushi express, you know? with kylie and jadah and red and emily… we got the chicken rice and i ate like three bowls ‘cause it’s so good, but then i spilled sauce on my sock—look!”
she pulls back just enough to lift one foot, showing off the faint red stain on the cherry fuzz.
you laugh quietly, cupping her face in both hands.
her skin’s warm, eyes glassy but sparkling with that pure, unfiltered joy she gets from her close friends.
“i see,” you murmur, thumbs stroking her cheeks gently, wiping away a smudge of sauce she missed. “sounds like fun. you okay? eyes are super red.”
she nods vigorously, ponytail remnants bouncing. “yeah! just… a lil’ high. they had this new strain, tastes like mango? so yummy. but now my head’s all fuzzy and i keep laughing at nothing. and my tummy hurts a tiny bit from the rice, but mostly good hurts.”
she pokes her stomach dramatically, then winces for effect, bursting into giggles again. “see? ouchie!”
your heart melts a little—megan’s always been the energetic one, the ISTP who needs her quiet pre show corners but explodes with fun around friends.
tonight, after hanging with her friends, she’s floating, and you love taking care of this version of her.
“come on, let’s get you comfy,” you say, guiding her to the couch with an arm around her waist.
she leans into you heavily, humming happily as you sit her down. the place is cozy—string lights from their new year’s party vods still up ( megan’s jenga tower collapsed hilariously in one clip ), plush blankets piled high, a half watched replay of their new year.
first things first… water.
you hand her the electrolyte glass, gatorade mixed with coconut water, her fave for rehydrating after smoking.
“drink slow, baby. all of it.”
she pouts but obeys, sipping with big, exaggerated gulps, pinky out like she’s fancy.
“you’re the best girlfriend ever. like, for real. sophia says i’m lucky, and daniela’s like ‘y/n’s a keeper’ every time i tell her stories.” she pauses mid-sip, eyes widening.
“oh! i have stories! okay, so kylie was teaching us this dance—but i messed up the twerk and jadah fell over laughing. we filmed it but swore not to post ‘cause hybe would kill us. and emily brought these cookies from her mom’s recipe—chocolate chip with sea salt? heaven. but i ate five and now i’m bloated like a balloon.”
you chuckle, grabbing the cucumber slices next. “open up.” she does, munching happily, chili salt dusting her lips.
you wipe it with your thumb, and she catches your hand, kissing your fingertip sloppily. “you’re so cute when you’re high.”
“only for you,” she mumbles around a mouthful, then swallows. “you know that…” she scoots closer, head lolling onto your shoulder, legs draping over your lap.
her hand finds yours, fingers intertwining, thumb tracing your knuckles absentmindedly.
“today was fun, but… missed you. i kept thinking ‘wish y/n was here to laugh with me’.”
you pull the mango sticky rice closer, feeding her a spoonful. she hums in bliss, eyes fluttering shut. “you’re sweet. tell me more about the hangout.”
she does—rambling for twenty minutes straight, voice soft and slurry.
kylie reenacting red’s monster high lines, jadah challenging her to a split in the parking lot. they hit a lowkey spot after kushi, passed a mango blunt, laughed until their sides hurt at silly edits.
her mom’s pic with adéla pops up on her phone mid story ‘see this? i feel like i got replaced’, and she shows you fancams from tour where she nailed note changes.
as she talks, her energy dips—high crashing soft. eyelids droop, words slow.
you stroke her hair, detangling frizz with your fingers, humming along. “sounds perfect. you had so much fun doing all of it.”
“yeah…” she yawns, nuzzling your neck. “but home with you is better.” her free hand fiddles with your hoodie string, pulling you closer. you shift, laying back so she’s half on top, blanket tucked around you both.
“nap time?” you whisper, kissing her forehead. she nods, mumbling, “stay? please?”
“always.” you dim the lights, play white noise ( ocean waves, her request ).
her breathing evens, body melting into yours, legs tangled, hand over your heart.
you trace her back, feeling her heartbeat slow, cherry socks tickling your calf.
half-asleep, she murmurs, “love you… best girlfriend… don’t leave... maybe… we get married one day…”
you smile in the dark, holding her tighter. you hum a bit of ‘can’t help falling in love.’ until she’s out.
an hour later, she stirs—less fuzzy, eyes clearer. “y/n? still here?”
“right here.” you kiss her nose.
she’s clingy now, post high cuddles her love language.
you make hot tea—chamomile with honey, sit cross legged feeding each other mango bites. she rants about tour, roblox with yoonchae, cake decorating fails, funny stories flowing.
“you know i love you right?” she says suddenly, serious. “even after all that’s happened, you’re my everything.”
you blush, pull her into your lap. “and you’re all I ever need.” foreheads touch, breaths sync. she plays with your hair, humming softly.
midnight hits.
you run a bath—epsom salts for her muscles, bubbles, of course cherry scented.
she soaks, you wash her hair, massaging scalp till she melts. “feels like heaven,” she sighs.
out, lotion her legs, pj’s matching your cherry sets.
back in bed, fairy lights on low. she spoons you, chin on shoulder.
“today was good ‘cause of you. friends fun, but… you’re my home.”
“love taking care of you,” you whisper. she kisses your shoulder, hand laced with yours.
sleep comes easy, her soft snores, your fingers in her hair. she mumbles in sleep, “best… ever…” you smile and thought, ‘maybe we will get married one day.’
-> ❝ sophia accidentally reveals on live that she wants a baby one day, gets flustered trying to take it back, and later talks she with you about how much she’d love having a child together someday. ❞
warnings : – fluff – kissing – cutesy stuff – cuddles – sophia yaps – r just agrees with everything – leon mentioned – livestream chat
- notes : valentine day post :))
it’s saturday night, and sophia is doing a casual weverse live—nothing planned, just her sitting cross legged on the carpet with her phone propped up on a stack of books.
the chat is moving fast, hearts and emojis flooding the screen, fans asking about her day, the new comeback schedule, random 'how are you' messages.
you’re out of frame, sitting on the couch just behind her, legs stretched out, back against the cushions.
you’re not supposed to be seen.
sophia always makes sure the camera angle cuts off anything too personal but you’re close enough that she can feel your presence.
your knee brushes her shoulder every now and then when she shifts, and she leans back into it like it’s the most natural thing.
she’s laughing at a comment, reading it out loud in her soft, slightly accented english. “someone asked ‘sophia when are you getting married?’” she covers her mouth, giggles. “guys, stop, i’m still young okay?”
the chat explodes with laughing emojis, marriage proposals, hearts.
she scrolls, eyes bright, answering random questions—favorite food lately, if she misses the members when they’re apart ( yes, all the time ), what she’s doing tomorrow, etc.
then someone types;
"sophia do you want kids someday?"
she pauses and she reads it again, quietly, lips moving like she’s tasting the words.
the chat is spamming thrists emojis.
"SOPHIA MOMMYYY”
“future kids with leon?”
she laughs, but it’s breathier than usual. she glances sideways, quick and subtle toward you.
you’re watching her, head tilted, small smile on your face. she looks back at the camera fast.
“um…” she starts, tucking hair behind her ear. “yeah. i do. i want a baby someday.”
the chat goes wild—screaming emojis,
“MOTHER SOPHIA PLZ GIVE ME A CHANCE.”
“WITH WHO??”
“leon and sophia kids would be SOOO cute icl.”
she covers her face with both hands, laughing harder, cheeks pink. “guys—stop! not now, okay? soon… like, soon. later. not now.”
she peeks through her fingers, still giggling, but her eyes flick to you again, longer this time.
you’re biting your lip to keep from laughing out loud, shoulders shaking silently. she sees it, and her own smile turns softer, almost shy.
“anyway,” she says, clearing her throat, trying to sound normal. “what else? someone asked about the new song…”
she keeps talking for another ten minutes—answering questions, singing 'internet girl', thanking fans but you can tell she’s distracted.
her glances toward you get more frequent, her smile a little wobblier.
finally she yawns, “okay guys, i’m tired. thank you for spending time with me on my day off. i love you all so much. good night, stay healthy, bye byeee”
she waves, blows kisses, ends the live.
the second the screen goes black she exhales like she’s been holding her breath for an hour. she sets the phone down, turns fully to face you.
you’re already grinning. “you want a baby, huh?”
her face goes bright red. she buries it in her hands. “shut up.”
you laugh—reach over and tug her hands down. “you said ‘soon.’”
she groans, flops forward so her forehead hits your thigh. “i panicked! they kept asking about marriage and kids and i just… blurted it.”
you stroke her hair, fingers gentle. “you looked cute panicking.”
she peeks up at you, cheeks still pink. “i meant it though.”
your hand stills. “yeah?”
she nods, slow. “yeah. not… not right now. but someday. with you.”
the room goes quiet. just the hum of the fridge, the distant city noise outside. you feel your throat tighten.
“with me,” you repeat softly.
she sits up fully, crawls closer until she’s in your lap, knees on either side of your hips. her hands cup your face. “yeah. with you. only you.”
she kisses you slow like she’s sealing something. you kiss her back, arms wrapping around her waist, pulling her closer.
she sighs into your mouth, melts against you, forehead resting on yours when you break apart.
“i love you,” she whispers.
“i love you more.”
she smiles—a little shy. “okay, because you’re stuck with me.”
you laugh softly, kiss her nose. “wouldn’t have it any other way.”
she curls against your chest, head tucked under your chin, arms around your neck. you hold her close, hand rubbing slow circles on her back.
back in the bedroom, sophia is propped up against the headboard in one of your old hoodies, legs stretched out under the blanket, hair still a little damp from her shower.
you’re lying beside her on your side, head pillowed on your arm, watching her face light up as she talks.
she’s been yapping for twenty minutes straight—hands gesturing, voice rising and falling like she’s rehearsing a speech only she can hear.
you can see she’s still buzzing from the comments, the baby talk that spiraled out of control.
“i mean… okay, wait,” she says, turning to face you more fully.
“if we had a baby girl, i’d dress her in the cutest little outfits. like tiny dresses with bows, and those soft baby sneakers. i’d do her hair in little pigtails when she gets older. but then i’d also teach her how to throw a punch, you know? just in case. she’d be sweet but tough.”
she pauses to take a breath, eyes bright. “but then i think… wait, no, a boy would be so cute too. like, imagine a little boy with your eyes and my smile? he’d be running around like a gremlin but then he’d hug you and melt your heart. i’d make him help in the kitchen, teach him how to make pancakes. he’d be a mama’s boy, definitely.”
she laughs at herself, covers her mouth.
“okay but honestly? i don’t care. boy or girl. anything. i’d love them so much. i’d be obsessed. i’d probably cry every time they smiled at me. i’d take a million pictures, keep every little drawing they make, save their first tooth. i’d be that annoying mom who shows everyone their baby photos.”
she turns to you fully now, knees pulled up, chin resting on them. “i just… i want it someday you know? a little us.”
you’re quiet for a second, just looking at her—cheeks pink, eyes shining, voice soft and earnest. your heart feels too big for your chest.
you reach over, tuck a strand of hair behind her ear. “yeah,” you say simply. “anything. boy, girl, doesn’t matter. i’d love them too. i’d love watching you be their mom.”
her eyes soften even more. “you’d be the best mom,” she whispers. “so patient. so gentle. they’d be so lucky.”
you smile, lean in. “we’d be lucky.”
she closes the distance first—soft kiss, lips brushing yours like she’s asking. you kiss her back, hand sliding to her cheek. she moans into your mouth, melts against you, one hand resting on your chest like she’s feeling your heartbeat.
the kiss lingers—unhurried, full of everything you haven’t said yet.
when you pull back, foreheads pressed together, she smiles against your lips.
“soon right?” she asks quietly.
you nod. “soon. i promise.”
she kisses you again—quick, sweet then lays beside you, head on your arm. “g'night...” she mumbles, already half-asleep.
“goodnight mahal,” you whisper back, kissing the top of her head.
-> ❝ manon is super popular with endless friends, but she keeps throwing big open parties and really hopes you show up. you feel out of her league, scared of her attention, so you panic and run when she approaches. one day she finally catches you in her hands. ❞
warnings : – cussing – awkward reader – yearner manon – kissing – making out – french kiss – bullying – fluff – loner r! – popular manon – bullied verbally – happy ending – the great gatsby type shi
- notes: inspired by an Indonesian song ( the title )
manon got that effortless pull.
people gravitate toward her without her even trying. her phone is always buzzing with group chats, invites, inside jokes from ten different friend circles.
she’s friends with the art kids, the music producers, the athletes, the international students, the baristas at three different coffee shops who all know her order by heart.
she never excludes anyone, never makes anyone feel small. she just exists loudly and warmly, and people want to be near her.
you, on the other hand… is you!
quiet in crowds, comfortable in corners, the one who shows up to things but leaves early.
you have a few close friends, a handful of people you text memes to, but you’re not part of the orbit.
you don’t mind.
you like watching from the edges sometimes. it’s easier.
so when manon throws one of her legendary ‘everyone’s invited’ parties at her loft downtown.
no guest list, just word of mouth and a single instagram story with the address.
you almost don’t go.
parties aren’t your scene. too loud, too many bodies, too easy to feel invisible.
but something about the way she worded the story ‘come to my AWESOME party 🤑’ made you pause.
maybe it was the emoji…
maybe it was the memory of her smiling at you once in the hallway last semester, eyes lingering like she actually saw you.
you decide to try.
just for an hour.
just to see.
you show up in jeans and a soft sweater, hair down, no makeup, feeling like you already stick out.
the loft is packed—music thumping low but heavy, people spilling onto the balcony, red cups everywhere, laughter bouncing off the exposed brick walls.
you step inside, immediately overwhelmed.
you hug the wall near the kitchen, clutching a soda you grabbed just to have something in your hands, eyes scanning for a familiar face and finding none.
then you see her.
manon’s in the middle of the living room, surrounded by maybe fifteen people, laughing so hard she has to hold onto someone’s shoulder to stay upright.
she’s in a black halter top and baggy cargo pants, silver rings glinting on every finger, hair loose and messy in that intentional way.
she looks like she belongs here. like she was born for this kind of night.
her eyes sweep the room mid laugh, casual, and then they land on you.
she stops completely.
the smile freezes on her face.
the person next to her keeps talking, but manon isn’t listening anymore. her eyes widen slightly, like she’s seeing something she didn’t expect.
then her whole expression softens—mouth parting just a little, head tilting, like she’s trying to make sure it’s really you.
she says something to the group then starts walking toward you.
you panic.
you’re not ready for her to look at you like that. not here.
not with all these people. you feel exposed, awkward, like you walked into a room you weren’t invited to even though she literally said everyone was.
so you turn. ( like a pussy )
you walk away fast, toward the hallway, toward the bathroom, toward anywhere that isn’t directly in her line of sight. your heart is hammering.
you feel stupid. childish.
why did you even come?
behind you, manon stops short.
“shit,” she mutters under her breath.
she watches your back disappear around the corner, the easy smile falling off her face.
her friends call her name, wave her back over, but she’s not listening. she’s staring at the empty space where you were standing two seconds ago.
she fucked up.
she knows it.
she always knows when she pushes too hard, when her energy overwhelms someone who isn’t used to it.
and you, you’re not used to it.
you’re quiet, careful, the kind of person who watches more than participates.
she’s been trying to pull you in gently for months. small smiles, lingering glances, casual ‘hey’s in passing but she never wanted to scare you off.
and now she might have.
she exhales hard through her nose, runs a hand through her hair.
“fuck,” she says again, quieter.
you push through the crowd in the hallway, heart still pounding from manon’s stare across the room.
the music feels louder back here, bodies pressing in from every side.
you’re not looking where you’re going—just trying to breathe, to find a quiet corner or the front door or anything that isn’t her eyes on you.
then you collide.
your shoulder slams into someone’s chest. you stumble back, phone almost slipping from your hand.
strong hands catch your elbows instantly—steady, gentle, keeping you upright.
“whoa—sorry, you okay?”
you look up.
he’s tall, maybe 6’1, broad-shouldered but not intimidating. dark hair messy from the humidity, kind brown eyes, a small concerned frown between his brows.
he’s wearing a plain black t-shirt and jeans, nothing flashy, just… normal. the opposite of the people around you.
you blink, nod quickly. “yeah. sorry. i wasn’t looking.”
he lets go of your arms slowly, like he’s making sure you’re steady. “no worries. you good? you look a little… lost.”
you force a small laugh, tucking hair behind your ear. “yeah. just… needed air. or something.”
he nods, glancing around at the packed hallway. “this place is insane tonight. too many people.”
“yeah,” you agree, voice quieter than you mean it to be.
he tilts his head slightly, studying you—not in a creepy way, just gentle. “hey, do you want to get out of here? i can order a cab if you’re ready to head home. you seem like you could use a break from all this.”
you hesitate.
part of you wants to stay, wants to find manon again, wants to see if she’ll come looking, wants to figure out why her eyes on you feel like fire and safety at the same time.
but the bigger part, the tired, overwhelmed part wins.
you nod. “yeah. that… that would be nice. thank you.”
he smiles. “cool. give me two seconds.”
he pulls out his phone, opens the rideshare app, books it in under a minute. “five minutes. black toyota. it’ll meet you out front.”
you exhale, tension easing a little just from having a plan. “thanks. seriously.”
“anytime.” he pockets his phone, glances toward the living room where the party is loudest. “you know manon, right? i saw her looking for someone earlier. kept asking people if they’d seen you.”
your stomach flips. “yeah… we’re… friends.”
he nods, doesn’t pry. “she seemed worried. but if you want to head out, i got you.”
you manage a small smile. “i do. thanks.”
he walks with you to the front door, close enough to block the crowd a little.
the night air hits you as you step outside cool, salty, a relief after the stuffy house.
the cab pulls up almost immediately.
he opens the door for you, steps back.
“get home safe,” he says. “dm me if you need anything, okay? i’m jay, by the way.”
you nod, sliding into the backseat. “i’m y/n. thank you, jay.”
he smiles again, soft and genuine then closes the door.
the car pulls away.
inside the house, manon is still moving through the crowd like she’s on a mission.
“hey—have you seen y/n?” she asks a girl from her photography class.
the girl shakes her head. “not in a while. she was by the kitchen earlier.”
manon keeps going. asks three more people. gets shrugs.
“no,”
“haven’t seen her.”
her stomach starts to twist.
she checks the balcony. the bathroom line. the hallway. the front door area.
nothing.
she pulls out her phone, opens your chat. thumbs hover.
she types;
“hey where’d u go? u okay?”
sends it.
no reply.
she stares at the screen, heart sinking lower with every second that passes without the three dots.
“fuck,” she mutters to herself, running a hand through her hair. “i’m so fucking dumb.”
she fucked up.
she knows it.
she always knows when she pushes too hard, when her brightness blinds someone who’s not used to it.
and you—you’re not used to it. you’re quiet, careful, the kind of person who watches more than participates.
she’s been trying to pull you in gently for months, small smiles, lingering glances, casual ‘hey’s in passing—but tonight she overwhelmed you. she can feel it in the way you walked away.
she leans against the wall near the front door, eyes scanning the emptying crowd, hoping you’ll come back around the corner.
you don’t.
the cab is long gone.
and manon is left standing there, phone clutched too tight, heart heavy with the realization that she might have just scared away the one person she’s been quietly falling for since the day you bumped into her in the hallway and looked at her like she was worth seeing.
you’re lying on your bed at home, staring at the ceiling fan spinning slow circles.
it’s quiet except for the hum of the ac and the faint traffic noise from outside your window.
the party from the last hours keep replaying in your head like a bad loop—manon’s eyes finding you across the room, the way she stopped everything just to walk toward you, the way you panicked and bolted like a scared kid.
you roll onto your side, hug a pillow to your chest, and sigh.
why were you so scared?
it’s not like manon was mean.
she’s never been mean.
if anything, she’s the opposite—the kind of person who makes everyone feel like they belong. but that’s exactly the problem.
she belongs everywhere. she has friends in every corner of the city, people who light up when she enters a room, people who save her a spot at every table.
she’s popular without trying.
she’s out of your league without even knowing it.
lyou don’t pull people in. and manon? she pulls everyone.
so when she looked at you like that, like you were the only person in the room—your brain short-lcircuited.
because what if she gets bored?
what if she realizes you’re not interesting enough?
what if she sees how boring you are and walks away?
you bury your face in the pillow.
stupid. stupid. stupid.
one week later, manon throws another party.
this one’s bigger. word spreads fast—her loft downtown again.
she’s nervous.
she’s never nervous about parties. she loves them—the music, the people, the crazy stuff.
but tonight she’s pacing the kitchen at 8 p.m., checking her phone every thirty seconds, heart doing stupid little flips every time someone new walks through the door.
she’s waiting for you.
she told herself she wouldn’t.
told herself it’s fine if you don’t show up.
you’re shy. parties aren’t your thing.
she gets it. but she still hopes.
she still hopes so hard it hurts.
her best friend david finds her in the kitchen around 9:30, leaning against the counter, staring at the front door like it owes her money.
david raises an eyebrow, beer in hand. “dude. what are you waiting for? another chick?”
manon blinks, startled out of her trance. “what? ew, no. stop saying i’m some player, david.”
david laughs. “you’re literally standing here like a lost puppy staring at the door. who else could it be?”
manon sighs, runs a hand through her hair. “it’s… y/n.”
david’s eyebrows shoot up. “y/n? like y/n l/n? since when do you like her?”
manon’s cheeks heat up. she looks away, fiddles with her chain. “i don’t know. i just… do.”
david leans against the counter next to her, studying her face. “wait. is this the y/n you told me about when you were drunk that one time? the one from kindergarten?”
manon groans, covering her face with both hands. “i was drunk. you weren’t supposed to remember that.”
“bro, you cried. you literally cried into your beer telling me about the girl from kindergarten who shared her crayons with you and then moved you away and never saw her again. i thought you were being dramatic.”
manon peeks through her fingers. “i wasn’t. she was… she was my first friend. like, real friend. before everything got complicated. and then i saw her again last semester and she’s… she’s still her. still quiet and kind and… fuck, david, she’s so pretty and she doesn’t even know it.”
david’s expression softens. “so that’s why you threw this stupid ‘sudden’ party.”
manon nods miserably. “yeah. i thought… maybe if i invited everyone, she’d come. maybe she’d see i’m not scary. maybe she’d talk to me.”
david looks at her for a long second. “you think she remembers you? from kindergarten?”
manon’s voice is small. “yeah. that’s why i want her to be my friend again.”
david sighs, claps a hand on her shoulder. “you’re hopeless. but cute or whatever. go find her if she shows up. don’t just stand here like a weirdo.”
manon nods. “yeah. okay.”
but the night drags on.
10:30…
11:00…
11:45…
people come. people go. music gets louder. drinks get refilled.
manon smiles and laughs and plays host like always, but her eyes keep darting to the door.
you never walk through it.
around midnight she gives up.
she slips into her bedroom, closes the door on the party noise, sits on the edge of her bed with her head in her hands.
“this is useless,” she mutters to herself. “i’m so fuckin’ useless.”
she pulls out her phone, opens your chat.
types;
“hey. u didn’t come tonight. hope ur okay.”
deletes it.
types again.
“hope you can come :)”
deletes it.
finally she just locks her phone, tosses it on the bed, and lies back staring at the ceiling.
she doesn’t cry.
she just feels… empty.
and you show up at manon’s party anyway.
you spent the whole day telling yourself you wouldn’t go.
but at 11:55 you’re standing outside her loft building in a simple outift, heart hammering so loud you’re sure people on the street can hear it.
you almost turn around three times. but you step inside.
the place is packed—music loud but not deafening, bodies moving, red cups everywhere, laughter bouncing off the brick walls.
you hug the edge of the room like always, eyes scanning for an exit more than for manon.
you tell yourself you’ll stay ten minutes. just to prove to yourself you can be here.
just to see if she notices.
she doesn’t notice you at first.
she’s in the middle of the living room, surrounded by her usual crowd—girls with perfect eyeliner and sharp laughs, guys with expensive sneakers and louder voices.
she’s laughing at something one of them says, head thrown back, silver chain glinting under the lights.
she looks like she belongs here. like she was made for this kind of night.
you’re about to slip out when a group of girls—three of them, all glossy hair and matching smirks spot you near the kitchen.
they’re the kind of popular that doesn’t need to try.
the kind that notices outsiders immediately.
one of them is blonde, red lipstick, crop top, tilts her head. loud enough for people nearby to hear.
“wait… is that y/n? what are you doing here?”
the others laugh. another one, the dark hair, hoop earrings, steps closer, voice dripping with fake surprise.
“wow, you came to a party? didn’t think this was your scene. looking to fuck a dick or something?”
the third girl snorts. “seriously. thought you only came out for ‘me time.’”
the words land like slaps. your face burns. your throat closes. you feel small, stupid, exposed. you open your mouth but nothing comes out.
you just stand there, frozen, while they laugh and turn away like you’re not even worth a second look.
“y/n!”
manon’s voice cuts through the noise like a knife.
she’s pushing through the crowd fast—people part for her without thinking. her eyes are wide, worried, locked on you.
she doesn’t see the girls.
doesn’t hear what they said. she just sees you standing there alone, looking like you’re about to cry.
she reaches you in seconds, grabs your wrist gently but firmly, pulls you toward her.
“i was looking for you,” she says, voice soft but urgent. “where were you? i thought you weren’t coming—”
you can’t speak. your eyes are stinging. you shake your head once.
she cups your cheeks with both hands, thumbs brushing under your eyes like she’s wiping away tears that haven’t fallen yet.
“hey, hey… what’s wrong?” her voice drops lower, just for you. “is it me? i’m sorry, i—i don’t know what i did wrong—”
you shake your head harder. “no. not you.”
she searches your face, thumbs still stroking. “then what? talk to me.”
you swallow. voice barely above a whisper. “i wanna get out of here.”
manon nods immediately. “okay. let’s go.”
she doesn’t ask why. she just laces her fingers with yours, turns, and pulls you through the crowd.
people call her name and she ignores them.
she doesn’t stop until you’re at the stairwell door that leads to the roof.
she pushes it open. cool night air rushes in. the rooftop is empty—string lights still up from the last party, city skyline glittering below.
she leads you to the edge, away from the noise drifting up from the open windows.
you’re both breathing hard from the rush out. she lets go of your hand but stays close.
“better?” she asks quietly.
you nod, hugging your arms around yourself. “yeah. thanks.”
she watches you for a long second, then leans against the railing beside you. “you don’t have to tell me what happened if you don’t want to. but… i’m here. okay?”
you look at her. she’s still in her party clothes; white halter top, silver chain, hair a little messy from dancing.
but her eyes are soft. worried.
like she’d burn the whole party down if it made you feel better.
you take a shaky breath. “why do you even care?”
she blinks. “what?”
“why do you want to see me so bad? why do you… help me? you have everything. friends. people who love you. you’re… you’re manon. you could have anyone. why me?”
she stares at you like you just asked something impossible.
“everything i want is you.”
you freeze.
she looks down at the city lights for a second, then back at you. her voice is quiet and raw.
“it’s stupid. but… you’re my first friend. like, real friend. kindergarten. you shared your crayons with me on the first day of school. i was the new kid, didn’t know anyone. you just… sat next to me and handed me the blue one without saying anything. i never forgot that.”
she chuckled at the ridiculous story.
your throat tightens. you do remember. a bit. a girl with pigtails and big eyes.
you didn’t think it mattered.
“i moved away after that year,” she continues. “then i saw you again last semester. same quiet smile. same way of looking at people like they matter. and i just… i wanted you back in my life.”
she steps closer. not touching. just close enough you feel her warmth.
“i don’t care about the parties. i don’t care about the friends. i care about you. that’s why i threw this stupid thing tonight. i hoped you’d come. i hoped you’d see i’m not scary. i hoped you’d talk to me.”
her voice cracks on the last word.
you stare at her. heart in your throat.
“i thought… i thought you were out of my league,” you whisper. “you have everything. i’m just…”
“you’re everything,” she says simply. “to me.”
then she reaches out—slow, careful—takes your hand.
“i’m not asking for anything tonight,” she says. “i just… i needed you to know. i’ve liked you since we were five. and i still do. a lot.”
manon looks… nervous. like she just handed you her entire heart and is waiting for you to drop it.
you don’t drop it.
instead, you step closer—slow, giving her time to pull away if she wants.
she doesn’t. of course.
you reach up, cup her face with both hands. her skin is soft, cheeks still a little flushed from the cold and from everything she just said.
her eyes search yours, wide and hopeful and terrified all at once.
you lean in.
your lips brush hers—soft, tentative, barely there. just a question.
manon freezes.
for half a heartbeat she doesn’t move, like her brain can’t process it.
then she melts.
a tiny, broken sound slips from her throat.
her hands fly to your waist, gripping like she’s afraid you’ll vanish.
she kisses you back, soft at first, mirroring you, careful, like she’s scared she’ll break something precious.
her lips are warm, a little chapped from the wind, tasting faintly of the strawberry soda she was drinking earlier.
you pull back just a fraction—barely an inch—ready to apologize, to say sorry if you read it wrong, if it was too much, too soon.
“sorry, i—”
manon cuts you off.
she surges forward, capturing your mouth again—deeper this time, more desperate. her hands slide to your waist, gripping hard like she’s afraid you’ll vanish.
she kisses you like she’s pouring everything into it—every moment of missing you, every time she almost said it, every moment she watched you from across a room and pretended it didn’t kill her.
you stumble back under the force of it. your calves hit the low ledge of the rooftop garden bed.
manon doesn’t stop, just follows, pressing you down until you’re lying back on the soft outdoor cushions, her body covering yours, one knee sliding between your thighs.
she’s hungry.
not aggressive, but… starving. like she’s been holding back for too damn long.
her lips move from your mouth to your jaw, your throat, back to your lips, kissing open-mouthed and needy.
she’s breathing hard against your lips, little sounds slipping out soft whimpers, shaky exhales.
her hands roam sliding under your clothes, palms warm on your bare waist, fingers splaying wide like she wants to touch every inch at once.
you’re dizzy and overwhelmed. your hands clutch her shoulder, pulling her closer even as your mind spins.
she realizes suddenly—feels the way you’re trembling, the way your breathing hitches.
she pulls back fast, eyes wide, panicked.
“shit—sorry—i’m sorry—” she scrambles off you, sitting back on her heels, hands hovering like she’s afraid to touch you again. “i didn’t mean to—fuck, i got carried away. are you okay? did i—did i scare you?”
you’re breathing hard, lips tingling, chest rising and falling fast.
and then, you laugh.
manon stares, confused. “what…?”
you cover your face with both hands, laughing into your palms. “it’s okay,” you manage, voice muffled. “it’s okay. i just… i didn’t expect that.”
she blinks. “you’re… laughing?”
you peek through your fingers, eyes bright. “yeah. because its kinda adorable when you panic.”
her cheeks flush deep red. she groans, drops her forehead to your stomach, mumbling into your sweater. “you’re killing me.”
you reach down, thread your fingers through her hair, stroke gently. “hey.”
she lifts her head, eyes soft, vulnerable.
“it’s okay. really. i… i liked it.”
she exhales, shaky. “yeah?”
you nod. “yeah.”
she crawls back up slowly, careful now, settling beside you instead of on top. she pulls you into her arms, tucking your head under her chin, one hand rubbing slow circles on your back.
“i’m sorry i scared you,” she whispers into your hair. “i just… i’ve wanted to do that for so long.”
you curl closer, hand resting over her heart. “me too.”
she kisses the top of your head. “we don’t have to rush. we can go slow. whatever you want.”
you nod against her chest. “slow sounds good.”
she holds you tighter. “slow it is.”
you stay like that. wrapped up in each other on the rooftop, city lights glittering below, wind cool on your skin.
just you and manon.
after all… her heart is for you. ( hatiku untukmu. )
helloo!! can you do yoonchae x masc loser!rockband!reader 🙏 reader is around the same age as yoonchae (obviously) and part of a pretty famous rock band where she plays either the drums or guitar (you can pick either or) the kats are asked about who they are exited to see at the grammys and yoonchae says their band nameee (readers band is asked the same and they all answered katseye 👀), a few days later yoonchae accidentally repost and edit of reader and fans notice immediately and start making edits of the two 🫶🫶 (& if you were wondering i got the inspo from deftones LMAOOO)
Sing me something new!
- summary : when yoonchae accidentally repost an edit of you.
- warnings : yoonchae x masc loser!reader, f!r, r is in a band, r is 17, guitarist reader, r lowk awkward, cussing ( maybe ), n idk.
ASHEN hit the grammys red carpet like they weren’t supposed to be there.
y/n in a oversized black leather jacket, chipped nail polish gripping her guitar pick in her pocket like a nervous habit. 17, already in a famous rock band, but still looking like she’d rather melt into the floor.
cameras flashed everywhere. every pop star looked unreel, y/n just looked… lost. but attractive somehow.
ASHEN had barely taken two steps before a reporter flagged them down. the usual questions same old “how does it feels like”, then the interview shifted. “so who are you most excited to see tonight?”
the drummer answered first, grinning. “katseye.”then the bassist laughed. “yeah, katseye. no competition.” the vocalist, ash shrugged. “they’re insane performers.”
the reporter turned to y/n, the guitarist who barely talked, the one whose fans worshipped her stage presence but knew nothing about y/n actual personality.
“and you, y/n? what about you?” y/n’s throat tightened a little. cameras were everywhere. this was live.
“…katseye,” y/n muttered. the interviewer laughed, surprised. “wow, all in agreement.”
y/n ears burned the second it left her mouth.
meanwhile, across the carpet, katseye was doing their own interview. yoonchae looked breathtaking, amazing dress, soft makeup, the kind of glow only eighteen hours of excitement could make. different reporter asked the same question. “and who are you excited to see tonight?” the girls gave their answers, the classic stuff, legends, icons, etc.
yoonchae didn’t even blink. “ashen,” she said with a bright smile. “they’re so cool.”
megan let out the loudest “ohhh?!” sophia jaw dropped, lara buried her face into manon’s shoulder trying not to laugh and manon, of course hold it too. daniela literally pointed at her like she said something forbidden.
yoonchae blinked at all of them, confused innocence on max. “what?? they’re cool!”
yoonchae kept smiling, totally oblivious to the damage she caused.
[ few days later ]
yoonchae was on her phone in the kats house living room, half-laying on the couch while the other members were doing their own thing. Lara was eating buldak, manon was scrolling tiktok, sophia and daniela were arguing about some stuff, and megan… she just looking like haven’t slept for 1 week.
yoonchae was just quietly liking posts… until she saw a fan edit of y/n on her fyp.
it was the type of edit that had no business being that good. clips of y/n shredding guitar onstage. a slow zoom on her rings. one clip of her laughing with her band in an interview.
and the caption was: “she so fine omfg 😭”
yoonchae’s ear tips went pink immediately.
she meant to share it with megan,
but her thumb… slipped.
and instead she accidentally reposted it for her million followers. she stared at her screen in horror. “…oh my god,” she whispered.
lara looked up. “what? you okay?” yoonchae didn’t speak. she just slowly turned her phone so lara could see what was now publicly (actually private acc) on her reposts. lara choked on her buldak “OH. NAURRRRR. manon literally screamed “YOOONCHAE…”
sophia had already opened her phone. “TOO LATE. eyekons already commenting in one minute.” daniela fell to the floor laughing. “ow my stomach hurts—” megan has no words and just cover her face in second hand embarrassment.
yoonchae hid her face in a pillow, mumbling, “i didn’t mean to repost— i wanted to share it!” but it was already everywhere.
[ meanwhile, on twitter / x ]
“YOONCHAE JUST REPOSTED A Y/N EDIT???”
“HELLOOOOOO IS THIS REAL???”
“nah she’s so real for this”
“y/n is literally the hottest guitarist of our era i get it yoonchip”
“ROCK GIRL X IDOL GIRL TYPE SHI”
[ tiktok edits within 30 minutes ]
clips of the grammys interview where yoonchae said she was excited to see y/n’s band. now edited side-by-side with y/n saying katseye, yoonchae and y/n’s aesthetic got together, stuff like that.
songs like “la mentira”, “bags”, “love me not”, etc got used as their edit making fans more thrilled.
“MY KATSEYE X ASHEN AGENDA IS THRIVING
“this wasnt an accident she wanted y/n to see that.”
“THE WAY THEY BOTH SAID EACH OTHER AT THE GRAMMYS AND NOW THIS OMGGG”
“the fact she didn’t delete it for like 6 minutes tells me everything.”
“hear me out…”
[ Instagram comments under y/n’s latest post ]
“yoonchae saw this and folded”
“she reposted you girl WAKE UP”
“WE SHIP THIS WAY TOO MUCH NOW”
“is this yoonchae’s gf?”
“I GET IT YOONCHAE”
“wait… she has a taste”
[ ASHEN group chat ]
ash:
bro did u see
owen:
YOONCHAE REPOSTED AN EDIT OF U??
vira:
ts is better than any promotion our label ever did
y/n
burger king collab is a good promotion…
owen:
*screenshot*
ash:
she def likes you
y/n
omg…???!!!!!!
vira
yep and y/n likes her too
y/n
pls tell me this is a dream…
she probably miss clicked it
owen
sure buddy
a/n : as u can see im trying something new here…
i rlly like this idea its so fucking good, love u anon.
alsoooo, i finished my exams and i will now obsess over stranger things 5 so, goodbye.
