v8nom

[v8nom]

quiet

mina / nayeon

“are we doing this?” nayeon whispers into the dark, and mina feels it more than hears it with the way lips brush against her own. 

she nods though, and it’s all the confirmation needed for nayeon to tip forward and close the small gap between them. nayeon’s lips are soft, and wet, and full and wanting against her own; the kiss itself is heated and insistent, and it has mina breathing unsteadily, hands gripping at nayeon’s jacket for balance. 

when she succumbs to the need to pull back for air, nayeon only follows her, persistent and overwhelming until mina is caged against the wall, by the hands framing her hips, by the mouth swallowing her shaky breaths. something hot coils low in her belly when she feels a thigh slotting neatly between her own. her lower lip is caught between teeth a moment later, and mina lets loose an involuntary shudder.

“we’ll have to be quick,” nayeon murmurs upon pulling away. mina is still registering the sting of nayeon’s mouth on her own when the sound of her zipper being unzipped reaches her ears, and the fabric of her pants is sliding down her hips.

“w-wait,” mina pants, only for her breath to hitch at the bump of nayeon’s knuckles against her clit. it’s distracting, and the darkness around them suddenly feels thick and hot as a palm cups her firmly through her underwear. mina jerks forward into the touch; she can feel nayeon’s little smirk against her jaw. “u-unnie, what about you?” 

a soft hush against her throat, the heat of it spreading deep under mina’s skin. “we can worry about me later. let’s take care of you first, huh? i can feel how needy you are right now, mina.” there’s no chance for mina to reply, because nayeon punctuates this with fingers dipping beneath the band of her underwear and sliding deftly inside, and mina feels too full too fast. her hands scrabble desperately for purchase against the older girl. nayeon’s lips press back against her then, and a whine is lost into her mouth as nayeon begins moving against her.

“all wet and wanting … you like this, minari? being marked up right before work? messy first thing in the morning,” nayeon coos. a choked groan leaves her, and mina trembles at how deeply the fingers filling her press in, at how a thumb keeps rubbing firmly against her clit. nayeon’s being unfair about this, going at a pace faster than mina’s used to, not giving her the time to adjust, or to think. “you’re soaked down here, gonna have to walk around all day after this with a mess in your panties, hmm?”

mina flushes, both in embarrassment and arousal, and it’s like nayeon knows, because she breathes out a laugh where her lips are trailing along mina’s neck. “messy baby,” she teases again.

“unnie,” mina protests, but it comes out as a shaky whine when nayeon crooks her fingers, and mina’s buckling forward, unable to say more, feeling tight and overloaded. 

nayeon hums into her skin. “so needy … and so sensitive. you’re gonna cum for me, aren’t you, baby?”

mina nods frantically, whimpering, clenched helplessly around nayeon’s fingers, as nayeon pumps in and out of her, keeping her pressed between herself and the wall. nayeon kisses her again, the way mina knows she likes to just when mina is about to cum, because she likes to hear the muffled noises mina ends up making against her—and as if her body is responding automatically, she’s trembling and moaning weakly into nayeon’s mouth a few moments later. 

she feels the way nayeon’s kiss turns soft and sweet, how nayeon strokes her hip as her fingers slow inside her. mina catches her breath against the older girl’s shoulder, basking in the gentle affection nayeon offers. 

“i don’t know why you would ever be worried about getting caught when you’re so quiet even during sex,” nayeon finally speaks up into the dark, humoring lacing her voice. 

mina chuckles, nestling her cheek against her girlfriend. “who said it was me i’m worried about?” 

there’s a pause, and then a snort. “okay. fair point, myoui.”

mina laughs quietly again, leaning up to press a kiss against where she assumes is nayeon’s cheek. “it’ll be your turn after we get home today, i promise.” she feels nayeon’s hands squeeze her hips warmly in response, and then they’re kissing again, deep and unhurried.

that is, until a small beeping noise fills the closet space between them, and mina laughs into nayeon’s mouth as she pulls away. “did you set an alarm—”

she can practically feel nayeon’s pout as she busily helps tug mina’s pants back up. “it was just to be sure we weren’t late—”

“—we were on a timer, like boiling an egg—”

“myoui mina, i didn’t work hard to give you a mindblowing orgasm just to be clowned like this—”

#rec #this occupies my mind every second im awake

[v8nom]

A sharp scream awakes her, nearly sending her toppling off the couch. There’s echoing screams and metallic scrapes that follow, and while she fumbles for anything to hold her upright, two things happen:

First, her hand finally finds purchase on her desk. Second, she realizes the commotion was from the TV.

With a roll of her eyes, she grabs for the remote on the floor and clicks it off, ignoring the way her heart had practically rumbled out of her chest.

On again. Then off. On again. Then off. Just to make sure it won’t happen again.

It’s well after midnight, she also realizes, looking at her phone’s screen. She must’ve fallen asleep while journaling and… yes, her notebook’s currently supine on the floor.

She heaves herself off the couch to retrieve her empty wine glass, and thinks about how messy the rest of the end table is. She should probably clean it… but the thought of having to interact with mess makes her brain feel septic. At least for the moment.

She’ll do one thing, though, and it’s to carefully remove the half-written page of her notebook.

It’s one of her irrational thoughts, the need to start fresh and finish an entry in one go, lest something horrible happen to her come morning.

She’s been having a bit of a spike in thoughts like that lately, not that she lets them get the best of her. That’s mostly because she knows where they come from, the root cause of her stress. Of course it’s…

Jeongyeon.

Jeongyeon reminds her of Mina.

Quiet. Very to herself, even if she doesn’t mean to be.

Well, isn’t she kind of like Mina too? In a way. It’s part of why they hit it off so well in the first place. They both have a habit of observation. Though it’s a mystery whether Jeongyeon is the same.

It’s likely. Jeongyeon wasn’t sly in hiding her wandering eyes, her intensity. She just hadn’t realized someone else was watching her too. And maybe she never would.

Another blatancy about her: she was comically bad at acting with any sort of normalcy. With a plastered smile on her face, actions bordering on robotic. She must’ve thought everything was going fine. And well… she’d tried to make the woman feel like things were going fine, in response. So it’s not completely Jeongyeon’s fault.

But what she can do, is notice this line of behavior isn’t Jeongyeon’s usual.

Jihyo always spoke about Jeongyeon like she’d created the universe itself, told her about her days with the other woman as if they were some kind of great tale. And for the most part, they were. She loved to hear about what made her happy, what got on her nerves. Even-

—

“So, Jeongyeon has this idea that if you put a song on loop during sex, you can use it as an instant switch when you want to get in the mood.”

“…”

“You do psych work so… is it true , you think?”

—

So surely there’s more to Jeongyeon than just a few one worded answers.

One worded answers are the devil. Just the thought of them frustrates her to no end. If she makes tea, though, that’ll fix it. That way she can detox and destress as the inevitable happens.

Her inevitable thoughts about Mina.

She rises from the couch and takes her few steps towards the kitchen. It’s there she resumes her thoughts.

They’re amicable, the two of them, when the situation calls for it. Only two other people knew of their history, and there was no point in making a big fuss during group gatherings.

So they chose to let things be, not bothering to contact each other unless they absolutely needed to.

Of course, she has no real ill will towards Mina. Even at her most upset, she always wanted what was best for her. For the both of them.

Though that doesn’t make the memory torment her any less.

—

“I’m alone, waiting for just a text from you with the very little time I have off that we agreed to spend together and you’re either hanging out with your coworkers or begging to spend time with Momo. Where do I fit in?”

—

She laughs, thinking about the quiver in her voice. It might’ve been a little pathetic, in hindsight. Words said in a desperate need to get her point across.

But “you don’t get to do that analyzing stuff with me,” was what Mina had said. And she couldn’t help it-

—

“Well what else should I do when you won’t tell me what’s going on or how you feel? What am I left with if you don’t give me anything aside from ‘good morning’ and ‘goodnight’?”

“What is it you want Mina? Answer me honestly. And I promise I won’t get mad.”

—

Her voice had been soft, as she begged. Pleaded. Because maybe, just maybe, she’d hoped that Mina wouldn’t come to the obvious conclusion. The one that stared them both in the face. She hoped that maybe, for once, her perception wasn’t as spot on as it usually was.

But Mina gave her that look. That damned awful look that told her the next few words weren’t going to be ones she wanted to hear.

And that was that.

No she isn’t carrying a torch for Mina anymore, but the memory still stings, nags at her insides. She even considers journaling about it for a fifth time. But she won’t, not tonight. Instead, she clicks the burner of the stove on and off and on again. Four times until she’s satisfied.

But being around the stove like this… she feels the embarrassment of yesterday creep it’s way up her spine.

“Whyyy did I walk into the kitchen like that?,” she asks her reflection in the kettle.

One more click and it’s gone.

She knows she’s going to have to address this soon, if Jeongyeon won’t.

Their current situation isn’t working for anyone. For as much as Jeongyeon’s been walking on eggshells, she, herself, seems to be completely crushing them under her feet. Which, excuse her therapy brain, means it’s time for a new approach.

Because the thing is? Minatozaki Sana no longer gives up on a challenge. Even if she fumbles her way through it, she won’t give up on happiness so easily. There’s probably something to be said about that, but she resists the urge to analyze herself. It’s better not to make herself go mad.

Right now, she’ll take the kettle off the burner and pour herself a mug of hot tea.

The mug she chooses tonight is one of her recent favorites, simply because Jihyo had commented on how pretty it was when she was over days ago. It’s nice to have a reminder of her on nights where she thinks too deeply.

But it also reminds her of Jihyo’s story in response. How Jeongyeon had bought her a beautiful blue-glazed mug in Jeju, just so Jihyo could have one that better suited her grip.

So yes, Sana concludes, Jeongyeon must be the observant type. And thoughtful, at that. Her gaze is as intense as it is tender. She’d known that all along, really. But her brain, per usual, had to work through the evidence to find the answer.

Even when the evidence was presented to her from the start.

—

“Are you cold?”

“Hm?”

“Your legs are shaking. Here-”

“You can use my jacket if you want. I have a sweater on underneath, so it’s all good.”

—

She remembers the beginnings of protest bubbling up in her throat, when the jacket was draped on her, overcome with the need to convince the other woman things were fine. She didn’t need to sacrifice her own warmth in the chilly outdoor air.

She did so anyway.

An insignificant moment to Jeongyeon, perhaps, for several reasons.

Sana was still fairly new to everyone… except Mina and Momo (and Nayeon by proxy) really. And that particular event had gone beyond their usual group of friends, extending to a few people from campus, maybe some coworkers. Lastly? Sana was still in what she had aptly dubbed her “Mina mourning period.”

Sana had been an outwardly happy person for years, wearing her joyousness like a knight’s armor. It worked well to protect her. Harsh words, snide remarks, testy glares. All of it just bounced right off of her.

It still works well for her, as someone who wants people to adore her, to have people know her as one who was “always happy,” rather than one whose despondency made others uncomfortable.

It worked very well… until her heart was broken. When her armor had temporarily cracked.

She’d been on week 2 of stewing in her own misery. Nothing but nights of tears, scribbled journal entries and enough cups of tea to have her running to the bathroom every hour.

That night had been no different, in terms of Sana’s mood. She was quiet and reserved, nursing her second or third beer in her own little section of the circle. She’d forgone her usual flashy colors and habits in order to simply enjoy bask in the night and maybe feel like herself again.

That one simple gesture, that warmth from the fabric, was bright enough to combat the dull drab of everything else.

But then Jeongyeon left early, not even bothering to take the jacket from Sana.

“Fate’s funny that way,” she mumbles, watching the tea leaves dye her water dark. It really is funny. If Jeongyeon had never left her jacket, there would’ve been no need to approach her “best friend” later.

—

“That friend of yours… is she your roommate?”

“Roommate? You mean Jeongyeon?”

“Yes! I think so. She left this with me.”

“Uh, but also… is she seeing anyone?”

—

It’s a memory she thinks on quite fondly. Sana went in expecting the pretty woman with the sharp eyes to mend her broken heart for a just a while. Months later, she’s blessed with the love and affection of said woman’s girlfriend.

And only a fraction of a hair closer to the woman she’d been initially after.

Sana’s going to change that, though. It’s certain. She taps her tea strainer four times against the mug’s rim to insure it.

Of course she has doubts, because what would be worse: Forcing a relationship that leaves all three people broken, or leaving the remaining two behind to salvage the remains of what they have?

Neither is acceptable. So-

“I’ll just have to walk it back.”

She raises the mug to her lips, basking in its warmth while she ruminates on a potential plan.

Minutes later, when she finds herself properly settled for bed, she’s sure of what she’ll do. Now, she’s left to see how Jeongyeon responds.

#AND THE PLOT THICKENS #rec #this au is so insanely good #like it’s keeping me going i jump at every update

[v8nom]

HAPPY BIRTHDAY BESTIE @westhyo!!!! wrote a little something to celebrate :) i hope today is (or has been going lmao sorry this is a bit late in the day) very cool!

--

“Chaeyoung-ah,” calls a deceptively bratty voice from across the room. It’s deceptive because it sounds like a whine, like she’s begging for something, but Nayeon always gets what she wants, and always expects to get what she wants; it’s not a request, it’s a command. Chaeyoung doesn’t look up.

“Chaeyoung,” Nayeon snaps it this time, and Chaeyoung almost jumps. She doesn’t. Instead, she puts a show of sighing, pressing the off button on her phone, and dragging her eyes over to Nayeon. Two can play this game.

She lets it seem like Nayeon interrupted her, like she doesn’t feel something clenching under her heavy gaze. Nayeon only interrupted her doom-scroll through Instagram reels, of all things, and that is certainly not as important as Nayeon, but she doesn’t need to know that. “Yeah?”

When Chaeyoung’s eyes reach Nayeon’s face, her features are suddenly so kind - if Chaeyoung didn’t know better, she would’ve thought it was someone else who called her name in such a harsh way. “Come here?”

Chaeyoung blinks once, twice, sitting in a long pause, doing her best to draw it out. Nayeon doesn’t seem unnerved in the slightest. Tip: never get in a staring contest with Nayeon, she frankly doesn’t give a fuck and therefore will win. 

Chaeyoung switches gears. She pouts, jutting her lower lip out and tapping her fingers on her phone. “I was busy,” she’s whining, she knows, but Nayeon is so demanding sometimes, why doesn’t she come to Chaeyoung? “You can come here.”

Nayeon’s facial features twist, morphing into a picture-perfect bratty pout, putting Chaeyoung’s to shame. Chaeyoung always finds it fascinating how the older woman can do that with her face: she can expertly craft any expression she needs at a certain time. From an outside point of view, it seems manipulative, but Chaeyoung knows it isn’t. Chaeyoung knows it’s part of her - Nayeon likes attention, Nayeon is needy, Nayeon likes to be taken care of, Nayeon is a very famous idol, and this skill helps with all of those. Chaeyoung, especially in times like these, finds it fun.

“No.” A soft sigh follows, like Nayeon is truly saddened by Chaeyoung’s rejection. “You come here.”

And by the way Chaeyoung’s legs instantly work to stand, she knows she’s fucked. 

Nayeon’s face - once again - changes, now a picture of glee. Her knees bounce, - that, Chaeyoung knows, isn’t fake, though, none of Nayeon’s expressions are faked, per se, more like she enhances the emotion she already feels, and now she feels happy - her hands pat her lap. “Sit,” she urges, “sit.”

Chaeyoung squints as she, predictably, follows the command. She knows Nayeon is up to something, though as her knees land on the cushion to the outside of Nayeon’s thighs, she can’t figure out what. It’s a tight squeeze for her legs beside the arms of the chair - it’s really only meant for one person - but Nayeon doesn’t seem to mind.

The closeness only serves to amplify the twisting in her belly. Nayeon’s eyes sparkle and her bunny smile is bright on her face and Chaeyoung falls in love all over again. “What?” There’s that scheming quirk to a muscle in Nayeon’s cheek, as if she’s trying to hide a certain, different, type of smile. Chaeyoung can barely breathe out her words, caught in Nayeon’s gaze. “Why did you want me?”

“I always want you!” It’s corny, it’s stupid, but Chaeyoung’s heart glows anyway.

“Okay, but,” Chaeyoung knows Nayeon meant it, but she’s straddling a pretty girl in the middle of her living room, and she’d like to know why. “Actually.” Not that she needs a reason.

The roguish grin can’t be hidden anymore; it stretches across Nayeon’s lips like a badge of victory, though Chaeyoung doesn’t think anything has happened yet. “You were so cute over there, biting your lips, playing with your hair.” Chaeyoung doesn’t think she had been doing all that, but she’ll take Nayeon’s word for it. “And-” Nayeon falters, gaze dropping for a split second. Nayeon being hesitant is strange, Chaeyoung’s ears prick up “-I want to try something.”

Confusion hits her first. Chaeyoung wants to ask what. They’re a pretty adventurous couple, so she’s flipping through the catalogue of possibilities, struggling to pick out something they haven’t tried, when it hits her. Well, when Nayeon’s hand finds a new home on her neck. A soft palm presses against her throat, thumb and fingers wrapping around the sides.

Chaeyoung gulps, noting how she feels her throat bob against Nayeon’s hand, and also noting how the slight heat in her core has suddenly become a raging flame. Her breaths come uneven, her voice sounds strained. “Yeah?”

“Choking,” Nayeon confirms.

Chaeyoung tries to hum in agreement, pretty clear by the hand around my neck, but a strangled whine comes out instead. Fuck. Sharp eyes flash and the corner of Nayeon’s lips quirk up.

“What do you think?” Nayeon peers at her curiously, no doubt reading Chaeyoung perfectly. Her index finger strokes lightly where it rests on soft skin, back and forth, driving Chaeyoung insane; it’s all she can feel.

Chaeyoung clears her throat, clinging to whatever shreds of dignity she has left. “I--” She’s a mess already, this is so humiliating “--yes. I want to.” If she’s being honest, the second thought she had when laying eyes on Nayeon’s hands all those years ago was about choking. (The first was damn, she has long fingers, and the third was I wonder if she can hold a basketball in one hand - she can, which is a trait Chaeyoung finds unreasonably attractive). So she’s been thinking about Nayeon’s hands for some time now, and it’s all finally come to a head.

Chaeyoung works her jaw, trying to figure out what to say. She doesn’t know how to tell Nayeon how much she needs this.

A hand on hers and a firm set to Nayeon’s eyes stop her in her tracks. Nayeon maneuvers Chaeyoung so her fingers wrap around the wrist she has at the younger woman’s neck. “Squeeze or tap three times to stop, okay?”

Chaeyoung trusts Nayeon with everything, including her life, but she appreciates the caution. “Okay.”

“Ready?” And just like that, they’re back to normal. The playful, devilish look has returned in full force to Nayeon’s eyes. Chaeyoung nods. Ready.

She’s a bit nervous, trembling in a mix of expectation and need as Nayeon eyes her neck with clear hunger. Chaeyoung takes a deep, shuddered breath, and a moment later the fingers press on the sides of her throat. Her airway isn’t completely cut off, as her exhale comes out wheezed, weak, but the bolt that shoots down her spine is superhuman.

Chaeyoung tries to inhale again, lungs going to inflate - expecting it - but Nayeon’s grip tightens, completely cutting off her airway and the blood supply to her brain. Fuck. A rise of panic, quickly tamped down by the clenching of her cunt and firey look in Nayeon’s eyes. Fuck, this is hot. She doesn’t know how long Nayeon is going to hold her out like this, preventing her from doing the very thing she needs to live. The complete lack of control is thrilling. Chaeyoung’s vision blurs but she has never felt more alive.

Nayeon relaxes her grip when her eyelids flutter, allowing air to flood her lungs and blood to continue to her brain. The first thing Chaeyoung does with that air is moan, long and low.

Nayeon giggles. “Yeah?”

A deep inhale, a dopey smile. Happy chemicals are in full-swing in her brain. “Yeah.”

She has also never felt more turned on. Something about coming down from that small high, head heavy and body thrumming, makes her awareness of the pulsing heat in her underwear stronger.

Chaeyoung’s hips buck into nothing and she can’t stand the ache in her core anymore. She needs to be touched. “Please,” she barely breathes, eyelids fluttering as she hangs onto Nayeon for dear life, “touch me.”

Tip: be direct and specific when asking Nayeon for things, because she’s an insufferable tease who will giggle and poke at the request until she’s forced to fill it. Chaeyoung is neither of those, but she thinks Nayeon can tell her brain is full enough, because the older woman nods, patting Chaeyoung’s thigh with her free hand. 

Not a moment later, a long finger slides between Chaeyoung’s folds, no hesitation or warning. Chaeyoung goes to cry out, sucks in a breath as her lips part to produce something downright unholy, but the tightening of Nayeon’s fingers cuts it off before it begins. She reels. The pressure on her neck is delicious, and combined with the sensations below, Chaeyoung knows she won’t last long.

The pressure loosens, Chaeyoung gasping for air past the fingers still wrapped around her neck. Both of her hands are now grasping at Nayeon’s forearm - that limb being the closest stable thing she has to hang onto. She has barely recovered, head still euphorically hazy, when a finger pushes into Chaeyoung’s heat.

This time she’s allowed to make a sound, jaw dropping as a keening moan spills from her lips, spine curving at the welcome intrusion. “Nayeon.” Nayeon’s thumb rubs a different pattern on her clit, Chaeyoung’s mind almost split apart.

“I’ve got you,” is the murmured response. Nayeon is being exceptionally kind to her this time, something that Chaeyoung is grateful for. Her whirling mind has enough to deal with, she doesn’t need any added challenges Nayeon might throw her way.

It ultimately works in her favour, because Chaeyoung doesn’t think she’s ever gotten this close this fast, and under any other circumstances, she’d have to work a lot harder for her release. 

A second finger joins the first as Nayeon’s grip once again provides pressure to the sides of her neck. It’s strange - her chest doesn’t heave with fast breaths like it normally does, but her hips rock in a frantic rhythm that matches Nayeon’s hand all the same. It’s unrelenting, firm but not harsh, which compliments the hold Nayeon has on her throat. 

Chaeyoung has never felt like this before. It’s exhilarating, it’s freeing and hot and intense. She doesn’t think she’ll be able to go through life without feeling it again.

Her eyes flicker open, unable to tell Nayeon how close she is, but wanting to convey the sentiment anyway. The sight is almost enough to push her over the edge. How Nayeon, a woman with sharp eyes and an even sharper tongue, gazes at Chaeyoung as if she’s more beautiful than any dazzling sunset the sky can paint for them Chaeyoung would moan if she could.

“Come for me.”

Chaeyoung crests the wave with a soundless cry, hips bucking wildly into Nayeon’s hand and jaw working with empty breaths. Then immediately after, Nayeon’s grip loosens, and air rushes into her lungs. The combined sensations burst fireworks behind Chaeyoung’s eyes, entire body wracking with intense pleasure. She tilts forward, slumping against Nayeon, now able to unintelligibly moan as she rides it out. She doesn’t think she’s come this hard before.

Through a spinning mind and a weakly pulsing body, Chaeyoung eventually slows to a stop, breathing into the crook of Nayeon’s neck. She’s entirely mush by the time she takes status of her limbs - what normally takes at least three orgasms has been completed in one. Impressive. She sighs, immensely content in where she is, hands slowly slipping around Nayeon’s waist to hold her properly.

Eventually Chaeyoung grunts, a simple but effective communication to the woman under her.

“Good?” Nayeon’s hand rubs slow circles on her back. Tip: one way to turn Nayeon into one of the softest, most outwardly caring people Chaeyoung has ever met is to have a mind-blowing earth-shattering orgasm on top of her.

“Yeah,” Chaeyoung sighs. Beyond good, but her mind can’t string together a coherent sentence right now. “Good.”

Nayeon hums in response. Chaeyoung’s eyes stay closed, resting, her core weakly stirring at the phantom feeling of Nayeon’s hand around her neck. They’re going to have to do this again.

#cy #ny #long #s #“im gonna do smth quick!” i said . then 2k words later #but fr this was really fun to write #i did lowkey whip it up tho so pls excuse any errors :sob: #i think this is an interesting take on ny idk i think she's fascinating #mmmf i feel like there are more artsy ways to write choking but ive never written it before #so let's call it a first attempt! #it's on ao3 now too!

[v8nom]

Chaeyoung’s sounds - high, keening, needy, whines - fill the room, and she would be embarrassed if not for her predicament.

A soft leather collar is wrapped securely around her throat, thick with a metal hoop dangling off the front. It’s attached to a thin leash pulled taught, making her neck strain forwards.

Chaeyoung can’t help but whimper, breathing heavy and heady at the hand forcing her head further upwards. “Mina,” she whines, helpless. 

Mina’s gaze is sultry and evil; it stokes the already bright flame in Chaeyoung’s belly. She’s only the first of two imposing bodies caging her in, consuming her like her essence produces the very air they breathe. “Hm?” Mina hums casually, as if she isn’t holding Chaeyoung on a knife tip, isn’t holding Chaeyoung’s pleasure in the tight grasp of the leash and the elegant fingers on her jaw. Mina smiles, a wicked, predatory thing, the glint in her eye telling Chaeyoung all she needs to know. “What do you think, Sana?”

The second body, the recipient of Mina’s question, serves as restraint. One lithe arm wraps tight around her waist, forcing Chaeyoung back and confining her to face her fate.

They’d been teasing Chaeyoung for she doesn’t know how long, running hands and lips and teeth over her scantily clothed body, all the while breathing filthy, filthy things into her ear. She’s being driven to insanity, but there’s not a single other place she’d rather be.

“I think,” Sana begins, pausing to press her teeth into Chaeyoung’s earlobe - Chaeyoung’s hips buck into empty air, again - “that she isn’t using her words.”

Mina’s smile turns into a grin, her hand tugging on Chaeyoung’s collar, the leather of the leash wrapped tightly around her knuckles. The sight alone is enough to make Chaeyoung whine.

“Good girls use their words.” The taunt is accompanied by Sana’s wandering hand caressing her abs shamelessly, the older woman humming appreciatively into her ear. 

Chaeyoung wants to speak - would speak - but Mina’s teeth latch onto the side of her neck as Sana finds her breast and she loses herself.

They’re unrelenting. 

Dark bruises already cover the pale skin of her neck, Chaeyoung squirming as Mina presses light kisses on top of the existing constellation of sensitive spots. Every time Chaeyoung flinches, Mina grins a little wider.

Sana touches her with the same fervor, alternating between Chaeyoung’s breasts and humming at the whines that fall from Chaeyoung’s lips when she uses her nails. She twists and tugs, the flurry of sensations making Chaeyoung’s head spin.

Finally, finally, when Mina pulls back in a brief display of mercy, she gains control of her voice. “Please,” she breathes, “fuck me.”

One of Sana’s hands makes a burning trail up to her collar, two long fingers slipping under the leather, tugging. Chaeyoung nearly falls apart. Her knees buckle as a guttural, keening sound tears itself from her throat, eyes slamming shut for a brief moment. The shameless, unequivocal act of ownership makes Chaeyoung see stars - Sana’s action is akin to testing the tightness of the collar on a pet, and that meaning is not lost on Chaeyoung. 

Mina looks over her shoulder, most likely locking eyes with Sana. Something about them jointly deciding her fate, deciding if she deserves anything, is so deliciously humiliating that heat flickers painfully in her core. It’s like she’s on her knees in front of two gods, asking if she’s worthy.

Thankfully, their judgment doesn’t last long. 

“What do you think, Chaeyoung-ah? Do you think you’ve earned it?” Sana’s low voice is purred directly into her ear, short-circuiting Chaeyoung’s brain. Her fingers slip out from under her collar, and Chaeyoung almost cries out at the loss.

“Yes,” she gasps, fighting to grasp onto the meaning of language. She desperately hopes this part isn’t another game, that she isn’t walking into another trap. “Please.”

Mina hums. A delicate hand comes up to trace her cheekbones and the curve of her jaw, Chaeyoung leaning into it. “I think she’s earned it,” she says. Her gaze is almost soft, she almost looks proud. Chaeyoung allows herself to believe she is.

“I agree.”

A flood of relief flows down Chaeyoung’s spine.

“You’ve been such a good girl.”

Immediately followed by that raging fire.

Mina slides a hand down Chaeyoung’s body, slowly but surely slipping under the waistband of Chaeyoung’s skimpy shorts and briefs. The shorts, paired with her crop top, were the reason this all started. About an hour ago she had walked into the living room, still waking up but not groggy, stretching her arms above her head with a loud yawn. When her eyes slid back open, she was cornered by a drooling Mina and Sana, their eyes harbouring the sort of hunger only animals possess.

The collar and leash were added after she let herself be dragged into Mina’s bedroom by rough hands.

Mina doesn’t bother to waste time pulling the shorts off, but decides to pause with her hand cupping Chaeyoung’s crotch.

“Please,” Chaeyoung cries out, knees buckling at the touch. She can feel her slick on Mina’s hand.

Sana’s arm tightens around her waist, and Chaeyoung distantly realizes that Sana is holding her up. “Shh,” Sana soothes, “we’ve got you.”

Chaeyoung nods, no choice but to believe her, her mind, body, and soul completely at their mercy. She’s holding the pure essence of her out on a silver platter for them, a meager offering for them to decide the fate of: they could save her or destroy her. 

They accept, and worship her as if they’re the ones kneeling at her feet.

Fingers slide through her slick heat, gathering the obscene amount of wetness already there.

As Mina finds her clit, Chaeyoung’s head falls back against Sana’s shoulder, eyes slipping closed. She’s panting, mouth perpetually open from cries, and does the only thing she can do: wholly submit to the sensations. 

Mina works her up quickly, Chaeyoung being so sensitive that even her light, teasing touches do a good enough job.

“I’m—“ close she wants to say. She’s not teetering on the edge, Mina wouldn’t allow that, but she’s close enough to ache. She wants Mina to make her come, needs Mina to make her come.

“You’re what?” Mina taunts, pulling her fingers out of her heat and a desperate whine from Chaeyoung’s lips. Her hole clenches around nothing and she hurts.

Long fingers - Sana’s - wrap around her exposed throat above her collar, firm to make their presence known, but loose enough to allow blood flow.

“Close,” Chaeyoung breathes.

“Beg,” Sana whispers, “beg for it.”

“Please, I want to come.” She has no dignity left - she’s in scattered pieces and it’s up to Mina and Sana to tear her apart further so she can become whole again. “Please, please.”

“Good.” 

Mina sinks one, then two fingers into her, curling upwards as Sana presses kisses along her neck.

Neither of them hold back, working together to bring Chaeyoung to the edge.

She hurtles towards it, hips bucking in time with Mina’s thrusts as moans tumble out of her mouth. Chaeyoung gets so close so fast, not having the capacity to beg for release again.

Thankfully, Mina can sense it. “Come for us.” Her breath hits Chaeyoung’s lips a moment before Chaeyoung comes, cresting the wave with an unintelligible cry.

Colours explode behind her eyes as pleasure shoots to every corner of her body, body tensing and snapping sandwiched between Mina and Sana.

Her brain turns to static as she rides it; she doesn’t know anything except for how good she feels.

The tension on the leash eventually goes slack, and Mina eventually slows to a stop within Chaeyoung. Sana still holds her up, Chaeyoung’s legs trembling too much to support herself, and the collar is still wrapped around her neck.

Heavy breathing - Chaeyoung’s - is the only sound filling the room, and she feels completely, utterly, sated.

#BUCKLE UP FOLKS #this is probably a bit wordy but it's for the flair! the dramatics! #cy #mn #sn #s #short #if you see a mistake sorry and erm no u dont . i stared at it till my eyes were glazed over so there probably are errors #MASSIVE SHOUT OUT TO WEST HYO M.D FOR THE BETA READ #theyre great and an amazing writer youre all legally obligated to check out their stuff

[v8nom]

Who do you take inspiration from? Your writing is so comforting I don't know how you capture that comfort aspect so well <3

myself 😭😭 it's what i want in my life lmaoooooo 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭 thank you tho!! I'm glad it comes across well :)

like truly mainly it is me and my imagination coming up w all these scenarios (i must have too much free time), but over the years of reading many hurt/comfort fics, i've learned the things I like and want to write. But specifically Seasons by JesusCheese (shout out for the third time i need to be stopped) changed me in a way that def inspired one or two of my fics.

Though if we're talking general writing style/flow/all that stuff, all the authors of the fics I recommended in this post! They're all incredibly skilled and I strive to write like them one day.

#ask #nonreq #sorry i overthought your question so i answered the two possible questions you could be asking

[v8nom]

I reread your hurt/comfort fics all the time. They bring me so much comfort. I wish I could tell you just how much I love them, but I’m bad with words. Thank you for writing ❤️

thank you sm!! im truly so glad they do, because i remember all the times i used to (and still do) get comfort from hurt/comfort fics, so im very happy my works provide other people with the same, that was my goal when i first started posting. and dw friend i get the vibes, tysm <33

#ask #nonreq

[v8nom]

even past-recovery I still struggle a little with food. both of works, specially the second one, were portrayed respectfully, delicately and beautifully. it was very comforting to read, thank you

thank you so much im so honoured 😭😭 thank YOU for saying this, im glad it was comforting <3

#ask #nonreq

[v8nom]

i loved all of your whumptober series! <33 the sana angst especially got me, if you have anymore 👀, but if not let me instead just say that your writing is absolutely amazing and i thank you for it!

thank you sm!! I appreciate it <33

i had every intent to respond to this with an angst drabble but it's been too long so im gonna respond now with a thank you :) and trust, one day in the future i will have a hurt/comfort or angst sana drabble for you because i do find that characterization of her very interesting (if you have any ideas or anything you'd like to see :eyes: pls send them)

thank you again <3

#ask #nonreq #but also #req #kinda . but i need to look back and see this

[v8nom]

I saw on Twitter you were taking fic requests? Could you write something about UJB + sharing each other's clothes ;u;

Yess <3

this is tiny but i may or may not be currently on a plane (on the ground) so

guys come to my twt i yap more over there lol

#jh #jy #tiny #ask #fill #kind of lol

[v8nom]

any fic recommendations in general? any genre?

yes!!

under the read more bc it gets long..

all of artistic_groove's stuff is amazing, i particularly like and if I may just take your breath away and one of your girls (tonight) (both smut). and also I want a hundred of your time is delicious (not smut)

sweetsummerday is also fantastic, go check out all their stuff as well! my favourites are: i need your focus on me and tell me baby, am i good at love? (also both smut)

amperis is incredible, their series In another life we... actually changed my life (smut and not smut idk)

westhyo !! another author we are blessed to have in the 9wice rpf world. butter without salt and but the house always wins (smut) are tentatively my top two but also go check out all their stuff.

love is a series of organized chaos is a classic (smut). it's unfinished which is devastating but it's also in like one-shot form so it doesn't really leave a storyline hanging. but really it's so fucking good

ketchup toast ! (not smut) had me lying in bed Pondering about life for hours, days after finishing it. would recommend if you want to go through a quiet and unspecified crisis. it's amazing

Hey, Isn't This Easy is such a nice, good fic. reads really well and is a lovely story

kiss her once is another fic that made me question everything. read it in one sitting listening to last waltz on repeat and i've never been the same since. save me mimo... fucking great plotline + it's so nicely-worded

Kiss Land series (smut with plot) goes so hard too. (edit: just realized it's written by artistic_groove too, but the series was put together by another acct? idk)

if you want something to really Think about, most of Kourinn's English Collection is really good, specifically the MoHyo-verse ones. (they do a deep dive into dynamics and stuff, idk how to explain it but whenever i reread a work of theirs i always discover a new, deeper level to it)

and finally! Seasons by JesusCheese (i've mentioned this author before) is probably my favourite 9wice hurt/comfort fic. (please beware of the tags before you read it)

well there's your 2024 reading list! lol no i've most definitely missed ones I can't think of rn/forgot to bookmark, but tbf that's a pretty long compilation so i'll end it here. if you read them, i hope you enjoy them as much as i did :)

#ask #nonreq

[v8nom]

EVERYONE WAKE UP A NEW WESTHYO JUST DROPPED!!!!

anyone around for a fic today🫣

#rec

[v8nom]

can i request nahyo? I just love them so much. I feel like nayeon can see how much pressure jihyo has to face as a leader, because she’s the oldest she understands how much falls onto her.

jihyo mentioned when she was younger the pressure of training became too much and she ran away for a day. could you write something like now she’s older and that depression and anxiety creeps back in but maybe it’s darker like suicidal thoughts because she’s been through so much of people being mean about her body, maybe she runs away again and thinks about killing herself but Nayeon goes to find her? Feel free to interpret things how you want to!

yes! I love the dynamic of jihyo being the leader but not the oldest, so she has someone to lean on.

truly not sure how I managed to write this at 2 AM and then finish it in the morning. its like 1.6k words too like woah where did i pull this from lol

But! I hope it fits a least a bit of what you were imagining :)

--TW-- suicidal thoughts, but nothing massively graphic or intense

--

Jihyo doesn’t feel very good.

She’s cold, it’s dark, and she’s sitting in a parking lot in view of the Han River at… 3 AM.

She feels awful.

She’s shaking and her hands still rest on the steering wheel, there’s a pit in her stomach that she can’t tell is from hunger or impending doom, and she hurts. It’s not the physical kind of hurt that a few days of rest could solve, but the deep, soul-sucking emptiness that’s tearing her apart from the inside.

It’s all finally come to a head: group schedules are in full swing as normal, but on top of that, solo promotions are coming up and the press has decided to take a nasty turn on her. She needs to be a good leader, a good soloist, and a good idol, and the pressure is too much. 

So she ran away.

Just like she did once as a trainee, she’s taking the easy way out, running away from her problems as if sitting in her cold car in a desolate parking lot would make her feel better.

Last time she didn’t even have a car to sit in. She sat on a bench, feet kicking in the air as she didn’t think about anything. Didn’t think about her uncertain future, nor her concerns about her skills, nor the comments others made about her body. She sat there, stared at the river, and wondered if disappearing forever would make it all easier.

Jihyo wonders the same now, except she shouldn’t. She’s successful, incredibly so: she has performed in many countries to many fans who love her, she’s made projects that she’s incredibly proud of, and she’s been a damn good leader through it all. But somehow all that makes this feeling worse.

Because she should feel happy, grateful, good, so why does she still feel so bad?

Her fingers weakly tap the steering wheel as she stares into the water in the distance. The moonlight glints off it in a certain way. The choppy waves are mesmerizing.

If she jumped in there now, she’d certainly disappear. It wouldn’t be nice, but it would be done, and all her problems would be solved. 

Well, not solved, they’d fish her body out eventually and they’d probably make more comments about her. God, even in death they won’t let her have peace. 

She wants to bark out a laugh, but she’s frozen to the spot. 

Her mind slides back to a loud emptiness once again.

Rap, Rap, R-

Jihyo nearly jumps out of her skin at the sound of someone knocking on the passenger side window. She squints blearily into the darkness to see a familiar bunny-toothed smile.

“Let me in,” Nayeon mouths, miming her opening the door.

Jihyo, utterly shaken, does as asked, unlocking the doors so Nayeon can slide in, blowing hot air on her hands. “It’s cold out there! Turn the car on for some heat, will you?”

Jihyo stares at her for a second, gaping. what is she doing h- how did she get here? There are no other cars here.

“Jihyo-yah, the heat.”

Right. Jihyo turns the car on without another blink, automatically adjusting the heat for Nayeon.

“Thank you,” Nayeon says, clicking on both their seat heaters with a wink.

Jihyo finally manages to string some words together. “How did you…?”

“Get here? Taxi. Figured you could give me a ride.”

She shakes her head, that’s not what I was asking.

“Oh. Find you?” Nayeon shifts, staring out into the darkness for a long moment. “I figured you’d be here. You were here last time, remember?”

Jihyo nods. Last time, back when they were both trainees and Jihyo was having the same thoughts. The only reason Jihyo returned to her dorm was because Nayeon found her that night. 

Nayeon sat next to her on that bench for hours, a couple of them spent in complete silence and a couple spent full of Nayeon’s voice, but never of Jihyo’s. Nayeon had eventually convinced her to come back because Jeongyeon would “become tyrannical” if Jihyo wasn’t there, and a couple of new trainees had promised to cook some Japanese food for them, “it’ll be fun,” Nayeon said, “We’ll stick together, I promise.” And she’s never broken that promise.

Not even now. 

“You wanna talk about it?”

Jihyo shakes her head slowly. Her throat feels tight, too tight to get much air in let alone words out. Even if she could, she doesn’t know what she’d say. 

Nayeon nods, accepting it as her hands run along the silver accents of the car door. 

Jihyo feels her heart rate pick up the longer Nayeon sits there. It’s not because of Nayeon, it’s because of everything else. It’s about what happens after this time with Nayeon, how she’ll have to push forward and be that good leader, that good soloist, that good idol. 

She’s so tired of pushing through it.

Jihyo’s knuckles are white from gripping the steering wheel so hard.

She finally wheezes, throat too tight to hide her panic from Nayeon anymore, but she can barely hear what the older woman says past her heart pounding in her ears.

Long fingers gently peel away at her sweaty ones wrapped around the faux leather, and Nayeon uses her hold on them to guide Jihyo to face her.

“Hey,” her eyes are searching, her face is kind, “I’m here, it’s okay.”

Jihyo’s thoughts whirl too fast for her to muster up a response. Thankfully, Nayeon doesn’t seem to expect one.

Hot tears stream down Jihyo’s face as her hands tremble in Nayeon’s steady hold. She’s panting heavily and her eyes can’t pick a spot to settle, but she manages to completely avoid Nayeon’s gaze. She doesn’t want to know what she’ll see in it.

“Let’s slow it down, Jihyo-yah, breathe in when I squeeze, okay?”

She nods, closing her eyes as she tries to settle into Nayeon’s warm touch.

Jihyo doesn’t get panic attacks often, but in the rare case when she has gotten them and hasn’t been alone, Nayeon has always been there with her, so she knows the drill. 

It’s embarrassing every time, and part of her still wants to sink into the seat beneath her or run far, far away, but she’s been working on accepting help from others. It clearly hasn’t been going very well, seeing as she’s here, but at least she didn’t run when she was found. Baby steps.

Having the position as leader for many years now has forced her into creating such strong, thick walls around herself that she has a very hard time letting down. A good leader is a strong one, one that doesn’t waver in the face of challenges.

And here she is, having a breakdown in the face of a challenge. How pathet-

“Jihyo.”

Nayeon’s voice cuts through her thoughts, the older woman ducking down so she can catch Jihyo’s gaze when her eyes snap open.

“Stay here with me.”

Fuck. Nayeon can be attentive when she wants to.

Jihyo nods, taking a shaky breath in time with Nayeon. 

Neither of them speak as Jihyo fights through her panic, so the only noise that fills the interior of the car is her harsh breathing, her slow progress being acknowledged by affirming nods. 

Eventually, her watery eyes meet Nayeon’s when she feels like she can breathe properly again - mistake. The acknowledgment of her situation sends a fresh wave of tears through her.

“Oh Jihyo-yah,” Nayeon says, holding her arms open.

Jihyo collapses into her, sobbing in her hug. It’s a bit awkward over the centre console, but she doesn’t care. Nayeon is warm and soft and she wants to be held by her forever.

“I— I can’t do this,” she warbles into Nayeon’s shirt. “It’s too hard.” 

Nayeon hums, hand coming up to caress the back of her head. “It will be hard,” she agrees. “But you’re the Park Jihyo, fierce leader of Twice, upcoming hit soloist, you can do it.”

Jihyo shakes her head. “Not this time, unnie, I don’t think I can.”

Silence falls over them again, the car once again filled with the sounds of Jihyo’s sadness and despair. 

“Really, unnie,” she says after running out of tears, sniffling. “I don’t know if I can.”

Fingers card slowly through her hair, she feels Nayeon’s chest rise and fall. “You’ve been through harder.”

“Not debuting as a soloist,” she mutters.

“True. But we’ve had more stressful schedules as a team.”

Nayeon isn’t wrong, but Jihyo isn’t exactly happy with her words. “It’s different,” she insists.

A grunt. “Yeah,” Nayeon sighs. “But I have an idea.”

Jihyo waits, nodding when it seems like Nayeon wants permission to continue.

“How about we have a good sleep tonight, and tomorrow we’ll make a plan. We’ll take it day-by-day and try to sort everything out, so at least you know exactly what you’re doing.”

Jihyo hums, mulling it over. Given that there is no real solution to this, and that her situation is inevitable, this is probably the best she’s going to get. She feels a spark of hope - it’s a good idea.

“And,” Nayeon clears her throat, voice suddenly rough, “we’ll stick together, I promise.”

The callback to many years ago brings a fresh bout of tears to her eyes that Jihyo blinks away into Nayeon’s sweater. “Yeah,” her voice wavers, “sounds good.”

A kiss is planted on the top of her head.

They stay in true silence for a long while, both lost in their thoughts. Jihyo listens to Nayeon’s breathing, smooth and steady.

Eventually, Jihyo breaks it. Her body starts to ache from the position, and she realizes how exhausted she is. “I can drop you off at yours?” She offers as she pulls back, shaking the heaviness out of her arms.

Nayeon shakes her head. The older woman snags the car keys from the cup holder between them. “I’ll drive us to yours.”

#jh #ny #h/c #ask #fill #miiight post this on ao3? we will see idk how to separate what i post where anymore #long #over 1k words is long to me but maybe i need to change that categorization hmmm #sn angst anon i have not forgotten about you!! i just also want to write smth for that so im leaving ur ask there till i figure it out

[v8nom]

OMGOMGOMGOMG thank you so much venom!!!! your notice fic was everything!!!! i loved it so so much. Thank you again!!!! - 🧡 anon

ofc!! thank you so much, i'm glad you liked it :)

#ask #nonreq #🧡 anon

[v8nom]

WE GOT THE NOTICE PT 2 OUT!! Go check it out here! this one is dedicated to u orange heart anon <33

i think it ended up being misamo working through their own issues too along with dahyun,, so maybe too misamo-centric in that way but hey it’s introspective, it’s deep, i think it's cool! but ofc lemme know if you want to see more of Dahyun or anything :)

#long #dh #mm #mn #sn #h/c #gonna be honest i didnt do any research on food whatsoever and i do think that it's obvious idk shit abt food like period #im what you'd call a decidedly Not adventurous eater so i cant even pretend im so sorry #so if that bothers u let me know what to fix and im happy to change things! #but otherwise it's a fic like lets not be too serious

[v8nom]

hi!! do you have any recs of authors who write hurt/comfort, like your works?

yeah! (all of them are on ao3, i'm not very good at searching through tumblr fics so i haven't been able to find much here)

I really like JesusCheese and their stuff, once_moomoo21 has good fics too (hurt/comfort especially in their minayeon series), and zyoszone has a couple!

Then when i say, duck and A Knock Away are two fics that I like as well, though idk how much hurt/comfort the authors write.

Unfortunately there's not a /ton/ of hurt/comfort fics of this type, which is why i decided to start posting. But if anyone else knows of any more, let me know!

#ask #nonreq #went through my ao3 history for this and let me tell you that was harrowing lol

[v8nom]

gonna put "notice" misamo + dahyun hurt/comfort fic into a series when i post the part two .. lemme know if y'all have any cool ideas for what to name it

#thoughts #my secret skill tho is coming up for titles for things #i stg they like appear in my brain and im like ah yes that is perfect #so i just need to keep it in mind for a few days! #but still #EDIT: got it!!

[v8nom]

Mina doesn’t think Nayeon knows that she knows. 

Mouthful of a sentence, but the meaning is there. Mina is very perceptive, but she’s quiet about it, so people don’t know quite how perceptive she is.

And one of the things she has noticed lately is how Nayeon hovers around her when things are tense.

Well, it’s not exactly when things are tense in general, more so when things are tense for Nayeon, when she’s feeling anxious or stressed.

Mina hasn’t mentioned it - she doesn’t even know if Nayeon knows what she’s doing - and she doesn’t plan to. Nayeon, with all her talkative antics and unapologetic needy-ness, keeps surprisingly silent about the things that run deep. The surface-level stuff, sure, she won’t shut up. Which gives the false assumption that she is open and willing to speak and reach out. 

But she isn’t. The things that deeply affect her are locked tight, only bubbling up once in a blue moon.

So given this rare chance to support Nayeon in a new way, Mina has no plans to mess it up

*

It starts slow.

The only thing she notices off about Nayeon is her pinched eyebrows and hands stuffed in her pockets when she wanders over.

“Hey,” Mina murmurs, preoccupied with fixing the laces of her boots.

Nayeon says nothing in reply, just hovering close to Mina - very close but not touching - with her eyes downcast. 

Mina takes it in stride.

Then it happens again.

“Mina,” Nayeon says, tone whiny as she sidles up beside the dancer.

Mina hums in acknowledgment, sparing a tiny glance away from her switch.

Neither of them say anything more as they sit on the couch together, Nayeon pressed up against Mina’s body with her head on her shoulder, breath slowing to match Mina’s.

Slowly, she begins to talk more.

They’re on a bus, travelling to another stop on tour, when Nayeon plops down in the seat next to Mina. Mina is listening to music, staring blankly out the window as she tries to manage her nerves. 

“Mina,” comes a whisper a minute later. 

Mina hums. 

“Are you nervous about the next show? We’ve never performed in Paris before.” 

What strikes Mina is the worried note in Nayeon’s voice. She’s not asking because she’s concerned about Mina, she’s asking because she herself is nervous.

Mina shrugs. “We’ve done this performance a lot, we know what we’re doing.” She’s avoiding the question, she knows, but she’s not sure how to answer Nayeon.

“But are you anxious?”

“A bit,” she admits, reminding herself yet again to take slow breaths. “But it’s nothing I haven’t dealt with before.” 

Nayeon nods, head landing on Mina’s shoulder. Her fingers fidget with the cuffs of her sleeve, and Mina can tell there’s still something bothering her. 

But she doesn’t press.

Instead, she reaches out slowly with one hand, gently slipping her fingers between Nayeon’s. Nayeon latches onto it with both hands, breath coming out in one slow exhale.

Mina turns her eyes back out the window, breathing nice and slow.

She eventually starts reaching out in her own way.

“Mina,” a hushed whisper cuts through the darkness of Mina’s bedroom.

Mina blinks, eyes landing on a figure in her doorway. It’s Nayeon.

“Yeah?” She whispers back.

“Can I sleep with you?”

Mina blinks again, brain struggling to catch up. She hadn’t been asleep, but after ages of slowing her body down, she managed to get close. “Yeah.”

Nayeon crawls under the duvet, snuggling up to Mina.

Neither of them speak as Nayeon shuffles up to practically spoon her - they’ve been a group for years now, so no amount of physical closeness is strange anymore.

Mina lets her eyes drift shut, body strangely at ease, though it shouldn’t come as a surprise: she has always liked physical touch. 

Silence falls upon them for long minutes, only broken by a quiet voice. “Mina?” Nayeon asks.

“Yeah?” She answers again, eyes still shut. Mina can feel Nayeon’s stuttered breath against her neck, and she’s doing her best to keep her own breathing steady, hoping that Nayeon’s will eventually slow to match hers.

“I’m nervous for tomorrow.”

That makes sense, they’ve got an award show performance tomorrow, so the entire dorm has been filled with anxious energy this evening. But normally, it tends to not affect Nayeon this badly - she used to be one of the members who could put up a fairly believable brave face.

“Me too,” Mina quietly agrees, turning over and pulling Nayeon close. She presses a kiss to the older woman’s forehead and squeezes her hands with one of her own. “But we’ll be okay.” 

Nayeon nods into her, eyes tightly shut and lips pressed into a thin line. It looks like she’s trying to force herself to believe it, and to will herself to sleep.

Mina knows from experience that it doesn’t work like that.

She doesn’t want to say anything that’ll scare Nayeon away, but Nayeon doesn’t look too good, and she really wants to help. “Try to copy my breathing, and relax your body if you can,” Mina murmurs, voice barely disturbing the thick silence. “I’m here with you.”

And to Mina’s relief, Nayeon seems to listen.

*

#short #mn #ny #h/c #not sure about the ending on this one