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Accidentally yours

Ateez Mingi x reader (fake dating)
Summary: Mingi asks you to fake date him for a week, but the lines blur fast—and it turns out, he was never pretending.
Word count: 1,559

You weren’t expecting your phone to ring during your shift, especially not with Mingi’s name lighting up the screen. Your thumb hovered for a second before you accepted, pressing it to your ear and ducking into the storeroom.
“Hello?”
“Hey,” Mingi breathed, and there was something about his voice—strained, anxious—that made you straighten. “I need a favor. A big one.”
“…How big?”
“Can you pretend to be my girlfriend for like… a week?”
You blinked, staring blankly at the shelves of inventory. “I’m sorry—what?”
“I’ll explain later,” he rushed. “Just—please. Say yes. I’ll owe you forever.”
There was silence as your heart did a weird little twist. He sounded nervous—really nervous. Not the kind of casual, teasing Mingi you were used to. You weren’t sure if that made it better or worse.
You sighed, already knowing you were going to say yes. “Fine. But this better be a good story.”

It turned out to be about an ex. A messy, gossipy, very public ex who had just flown into Seoul and managed to get seated at a high-profile dinner next to ATEEZ’s table.
“I panicked,” Mingi muttered as you adjusted your borrowed heels and smoothed down your dress. “I said I was dating someone now. And when they asked who… I blurted your name.”
“You’re lucky I like you,” you muttered, but there was an edge to your voice you didn’t quite know how to hide.
He grinned sheepishly, lips twitching like he knew. “Really lucky.”
The moment you walked into the room with him, his hand sliding around your waist like it belonged there, the air changed. His fingers were warm against the small of your back, his palm solid and grounding. And when he leaned in to whisper something funny in your ear, the scent of his cologne wrapped around you like a trap.
You laughed—genuinely. It surprised you, how easy it was to melt into the act. But what really startled you was how he looked at you in that moment.
Like he wasn’t pretending.

Later, after you managed to survive the evening without tripping over your own tongue or giving away the fact that your heart had been racing for hours, Mingi walked you home.
“You were amazing tonight,” he said softly, standing outside your door. “I think they bought it.”
“Of course they did,” you replied, shrugging one shoulder. “I’m an excellent fake girlfriend.”
His smile faltered—just slightly. So fast you nearly missed it.
“…Right. Fake.”

You thought it would end there.
It didn’t.
The next day, he texted you: Lunch? I owe you.
Then it was, Movie night? The guys want to meet “my girl.”
Then, Walk with me? Just… I need air. And maybe your hand.
And just like that, your life twisted sideways.
He held your hand too naturally. He bought your coffee without asking for your order. He sent you memes and voice notes and photos of clouds that “looked like your hair.”
He was always near. Always warm. Always Mingi.
And you couldn’t tell where the line between fake and real blurred.

You should have clarified the rules. You should’ve set boundaries. Instead, you let him take your hand and wrap an arm around your shoulders and whisper in your ear like you were something precious. You let him pull you into his world—slowly, softly—until you didn’t know how to escape.
When he posted a photo of your matching coffee cups with a tiny heart emoji, your phone blew up.
San texted: Wait. Are you guys actually dating?
Yeosang: Tell me this isn’t a joke, I like romance arcs.
And worst of all, Wooyoung: If this is fake, one of you is gonna get hurt.
You read that one three times before locking your phone.

Three days in, you realized you were in trouble.
It was after dinner. You were sitting across from him in the dim light of your favorite noodle shop, sharing side dishes and stories. He was smiling at you like there was no one else in the world, and your laugh had come a little too quickly, your gaze had lingered a little too long.
Your chest hurt. You liked him. Really liked him.
Not the shallow kind you’d always brushed off before.
This was real. And terrifying.
Because as far as you knew, this was still an act. A performance for his pride. A temporary arrangement.
You hadn’t signed up to fall in love.

The breaking point came at the concert.
You were supposed to stay backstage—watching from the shadows. But just before soundcheck, Mingi pulled you aside, his eyes bright and mischievous.
“Come with me.”
“Mingi, what—?”
But he didn’t explain. He just took your hand and dragged you into the light.
The fans screamed. Cameras flashed.
And he turned to you, grinning like a fool, before slinging an arm around your shoulders and shouting into the mic, “This one’s mine!”
Your heart nearly stopped.
Later, when you cornered him outside the dressing room, you hissed, “You’re unbelievable.”
He blinked. “What?”
“I thought this was supposed to be lowkey.”
“Why would we keep it lowkey?” he asked, confused.
You stared at him, mouth dry. “Because it’s fake.”
That one word landed like a slap.
He didn’t respond. He just looked at you. Quiet. Wounded.
And that was the first time you saw him falter.

That night, after everyone left and the city had gone quiet, you sat on a bench near the dorms. The streetlamp overhead buzzed softly, casting golden light between you.
Mingi sat beside you, bouncing one knee. “You’ve been… weird today.”
“I’m always weird.”
He didn’t smile. “Did I do something wrong?”
You hesitated. “No. You’re perfect.”
His head tilted. “Then why are you pulling away?”
You looked down at your hands, wringing your fingers together. “Because I don’t know what this is anymore.”
He was silent for a beat. “It’s us.”
“No. It’s a lie,” you said, voice tight. “You asked me to pretend to be your girlfriend for a week. That’s what I’m doing.”
He turned to you slowly, expression unreadable.
“…You think I’m pretending?”
Your throat dried. “Aren’t you?”
He let out a soft breath. “I thought you knew.”
“Knew what?”
“I only asked you to fake date me because I didn’t know how else to be close to you without scaring you away.”
His voice was barely a whisper, but it echoed loud in your chest.
“I’ve liked you for a long time,” he said, eyes locked on yours. “I just… I didn’t know if you felt the same. So I figured, if I could just have this—have a taste—I’d be okay.”
Tears burned the back of your eyes.
“You idiot,” you whispered.
“I know,” he said, smile bitter. “I should’ve just told you.”
“I was pulling away because I thought none of it meant anything.”
“It meant everything.”
He reached out then, brushing your cheek with calloused fingers.
“If you tell me it’s still fake, I’ll walk away. I won’t pressure you. I just… I needed you to know the truth.”
You stared at him, heart pounding.
And then you kissed him.
It wasn’t gentle. It wasn’t perfect. It was desperate and messy and clumsy with the weight of everything unsaid. But when his arms closed around you and he kissed you back—like he’d been waiting years for this moment—you knew.
This wasn’t pretend anymore.

Two Weeks Later
The guys didn’t stop teasing.
“So… it was fake dating until it wasn’t?” Seonghwa grinned, sipping his tea.
“She kissed me first,” Mingi said proudly, draping himself over the couch.
“You pulled me into a concert spotlight!” you protested, flicking a cushion at him.
“Details,” he said, catching it with a wink.
Wooyoung sighed dramatically. “This is the worst fake-to-real romance I’ve ever seen. Where’s the slow burn?”
Yeosang offered, “It was a slow panic. That counts.”
But you just smiled, curled up under Mingi’s arm, your fingers laced with his.
You’d started out pretending.
Now you couldn’t imagine going back.
Because somewhere between fake smiles and real ones, between playful touches and aching ones—you’d both stopped acting.
And started falling.
#ateez x reader#mingi x reader#song mingi x reader#mingi x y/n#mingi x you#song mingi x you#song mingi x y/n#ateez x y/n#ateez x you
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I'm dehydrated from crying. Thank God for the HFN ending or I'd have to call my therapist and cry it out. I love this so much. It hurts on a cellular level but soothes the pain with a cute, nervous Yoongi who's clingy when he's drunk. 10/10 boxes of tissues.
fuck being friends
– pairing: yoongi x reader
– word count: 12k
– genre: friends to lovers / college!au
– summary: as if watching the guy you were hopelessly in love with hook up with another girl each weekend wasn’t enough, he also happened to be your best friend, making things extra complicated. and it only gets worse and worse once he finds you crying in the bathroom at a party one night.
– warnings: some angst, some fluff, a lot of alcohol, jealousy, yoongi being a bit of a fuckboy, crying, reader being in an emotional rollercoaster during the whole fic. not proof-read because i am that lazy, i’m sorry.
How the hell did you always end up in the same situation?
It was a reoccurring event by now: You on the dancefloor of some stranger’s living room, a drink in your hand and your friends by your side. That itself didn’t sound too bad, if it wasn’t for the knot you felt in your stomach.
By now it was almost a familiar feeling; the pain and uncertainty have been ruining your last few Saturday nights out.
“What’s the problem?” you almost couldn’t hear Hoseok yell over the loud music but his facial expressions gave away that he seemed worried about you.
“I’m fine,” you promised and gave him a bright smile before raising your cup for him to toast with you – both of you knew you weren’t fine at all but after being your friend for years Hoseok knew better than to harass you into telling what was occupying your mind.
You appreciated your friend very much for that, happy that he would never pressure you into saying out loud what almost everyone assumed anyways.
Though no one knew for sure what the reason for your mood swings was – it was okay for them to assume it, but you would never admit it. If any of your friends found out you knew they’d try to get involved and only would make things more awkward than they already were for you.
Keep reading
#yoongi imagine#yoongi college au#yoongi f2l#yoongi scenario#yoongi x reader#yoongi angst#bts angst#suga angst#yoongi x you#suga x reader#suga x you
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So instead of sleeping I stayed up reading this and now my nose is stuffy and my head hurts but it's worth it?? Like this is realistic, emotional, and showcases how adults handle mistakes while navigating new situations in life. Worth every tear and minute of lost sleep. 💜
── ❝ truth be told ❞ 🐰ྀི ̟!!
⟢ a pediatrician!baekhyun au req'd by this lovely anonie <3 :') ty baby!



sum: you and baekhyun were college sweethearts, bound by shared dreams of a future together. but when he was accepted to a medical residency program across the country, you kept a secret—you're pregnant. fearing that your news would derail his dream of becoming a doctor, you chose to disappear, raising your daughter alone. three years later, in a new city, you bring your little girl in for a routine check-up, only to discover her pediatrician is none other than baekhyun, her father.
જ⁀➴°⋆ content: 18+/MDNI. 24.2k+ words. omg Hahaha 🫣. baekhyun x f!reader. chanyeol x f!reader. baekhyun x f!oc. lovers to strangers to co-parents to lovers again. angst, slow burn, fluffy, then we get reaaaallll smutty ⟡ pet names, praise kink, body worship, unprotected sex, p in v, bulge kink, creampie, slight breeding kink (y'all should know me by now 🤟🏼😣) ⟡ ALSO! i made a playlist for you guys to vibe out to while you read cus i love u <3 :') its linked in the title!!!


you and baekhyun had once been the epitome of college sweethearts—late-night study sessions that bled into spontaneous adventures, laughter, and whispered dreams of a future together. you were inseparable, his drive to become a doctor and your quiet dream of building a life with him making everything feel so perfect. you could picture it all—the home, the life, the love, knowing you’d be together forever.
during those years, you moved in together. things got serious quickly. talks of marriage, kids, and a future you’d both start building when the time was right were always at the forefront. but as much as you both wanted to dive in right away, you both agreed that you’d wait until baekhyun had at least finished his schooling and residency. it made perfect sense—his dream of becoming a doctor came first, and you were happy to support him, knowing you’d have a lifetime to make it all happen.
you’d completed undergrad together, then post-grad, and now, with your master’s behind you, baekhyun was finishing med school and applying to residency programs. everything seemed to be unfolding just as it should.
but life, as it tends to do, shifted unexpectedly.
when baekhyun’s acceptance letter arrived—the one from his dream residency program across the country—your world tilted, skewed into something unrecognizable. this was his number one pick, the culmination of years of sacrifice and determination. you should’ve been ecstatic, screaming with joy for him, for his future. but instead, a foreign weight settled low in your stomach, twisting into something unnameable.
you’d only just found out, barely two days ago. pregnant. the word clung to you like a vice, heavy and suffocating. you hadn’t planned for this, hadn’t even considered it a possibility. and yet, here it was—undeniable. that stupid test, its second line blaring back at you like a neon sign, mocking the life you thought you had under control.
you stared at it, willing the line to fade, to disappear, to become a cruel trick of your imagination. but it didn’t. and the next test didn’t either. nor the one after. five little sticks, five blaring truths. undeniable. inescapable.
you didn’t want to hold him back. not when his dreams were so close. not when the future he had worked so hard for was finally within his grasp.
so you made a decision. you couldn’t tell him. you couldn’t bear to see the guilt and the pain in his eyes as he would undoubtedly sacrifice his dreams for you and the baby. you thought it was the right thing to do, that you were doing him a favor by disappearing, by cutting off all contact.
you had moved to a new city—far from the places where memories of baekhyun lingered, far from the shadow of the life you’d carefully unraveled. it wasn’t easy; untangling yourself from him had felt like pulling threads from a tapestry until it barely resembled what it once was. but over time, you found a rhythm. a life where thoughts of him became a quiet hum rather than a deafening roar, where the love that had once consumed you slipped quietly into the recesses of your heart.
and now, three years later, you stand here as someone completely transformed: a mother.
raising your daughter alone had its challenges, sure, but you couldn’t deny the sense of purpose it gave you. you were made for this. or maybe it was her—the tiny miracle who had made it all feel so natural. from the moment she came into the world, she was an angel, a light so radiant it softened even the hardest days.
sure, she had her moments. she was a toddler, after all, still learning how to navigate big feelings in a little body. but her resilience—the way she could fall apart one minute and bounce back the next—made everything easier. she was your shadow, your little mimic, always wanting to copy everything you did.
the love she gave you was pure and boundless, something you hadn’t realized could exist until she was in your arms. it was a love that filled the spaces in you that you didn’t even know were empty, a love that made the sacrifices and sleepless nights worth it.
you often found yourself wondering if she was a gift straight from the universe, a little piece of heaven sent just for you. every smile she gave, every tight hug, every soft ‘i love you, mommy’ felt like proof that you were the luckiest soul alive.
and as you watched her now, her tiny fingers curled around her favorite stuffed bunny, a swell of overwhelming gratitude washed over you. life had twisted and turned in ways you never could’ve anticipated, but somehow, in her, it had gifted you everything you’d ever need.
maybe it was the depth of love she gave, the way she radiated warmth and light, that made the thought of telling baekhyun even more terrifying. she was everything—the way her laughter could turn any bad day around, the way her eyes sparkled with innocence and curiosity. a fragile little soul, so beautiful it almost hurt. and you knew, deep down, that baekhyun would’ve adored her. loved her more than words could describe.
the thought of it—of him finding out, of him knowing you’d kept her from him, hidden this piece of him, this precious life from him—it twisted something deep inside you. it made your chest tighten, your thoughts spiral. the guilt, the shame—it felt like a constant ache, one that only grew the more you thought about it.
you and baekhyun talked about it, after all—the future you both dreamed of. lazy nights tangled together under blankets, whispering about what life would look like years down the road. marriage, a house filled with warmth and laughter, children.
he wanted a family with you. he was so sure of it, so sure of you. he used to say that he couldn’t imagine anyone else being the mother of his kids. the way he looked at you when he said it—it was as if his soul had reached out, seen yours, and said, there she is, the one we’ve been waiting for.
he was a dreamer. he’d mapped it all out in his head—two girls, two boys. his perfect little quartet. the oldest, a girl, to set the tone, to be the leader of the pack. then a boy to balance things out, another boy to roughhouse and make the middle feel less lonely, and finally, the baby of the family, a girl to soften the edges of the chaos. he laughed at the improbability of it all, at how life doesn’t work like that, but he loved dreaming about it anyway.
you still remembered the way his face lit up when you’d asked him, teasing, what he’d name his first daughter.
he didn’t even hesitate. he looked up at you, that smile you used to know better than your own, and said, minji.

your little girl, minji, was the brightest star in your universe, her laughter a melody that softened every hard edge of your world. her smile—warm and golden—was like sunlight spilling into the corners of your heart, chasing away the shadows that lingered from the life you left behind. she was growing so fast, each day a reminder of how fleeting these moments were, and how much you wanted to hold onto them.
sometimes, though, when the house was quiet and the weight of the past crept in, you allowed yourself to think about baekhyun. it was never for long—just a passing thought, a wondering what if. you didn’t dare to linger, didn’t dare to stir up the bittersweet ache of old feelings and lingering regrets. he had his life now, and you had yours.
but still, he had been the love of your life, and that kind of love doesn’t just disappear. curiosity tugged at you from time to time. late at night, when minji was fast asleep, you’d catch yourself wondering what he was doing, where he was, if he ever thought about you, too.
yet no matter how strong the urge, you never gave in. you wouldn’t let yourself open his socials, wouldn’t let yourself peer into the window of the life he was living without you. it wasn’t that you didn’t want to know—it was that you couldn’t. because knowing might hurt more than not knowing, and the delicate balance you’d created would come crashing down.
you hadn’t blocked him, not on anything. instead, you deleted every account, wiped your digital footprint clean, and changed your number. you made sure there was no way for him to reach you, no thread he could pull to unravel the wall you’d built between you.
you never allowed yourself to dwell on how hurt he might have been—how confused he must’ve felt, waiting for a call or a text that never came. the promises you’d made to him echoed in your mind, haunting you. i’ll tell him when the time is right. but the right time never came.
and then she was born. tiny fingers curling around yours, eyes so full of life. she reached milestones—her first smile, her first steps, her first word—and with each one, the weight of telling him grew heavier. how could you? how could you drop this truth on him after he’d already missed so much?
you imagined his reaction: the sharp edge of his disappointment, the rawness of his hurt, the anger that would burn in his chest. he’d ask you why—why did you wait? why did you let so much time pass? and you’d have no answer, nothing that could make it right.
as the years went by, the truth turned into a mountain too steep to climb. every day that passed felt like another brick in the wall separating you. every moment you stayed silent made it harder to imagine breaking that silence.
you told yourself it was for the best. you told yourself he deserved better than someone who had made this choice, this mess.
because deep down, you believed it: you didn’t deserve him. not anymore. not after this

the sound of tiny sneakers squeaking against the linoleum floor filled the pediatrician’s office as you followed your daughter toward the nurse’s station. she clutched her favorite stuffed animal tightly in one hand while the other reached back for yours, her eyes wide with curiosity as she took in the colorful murals on the walls.
it was a routine check-up for minji, nothing out of the ordinary. she had been a healthy, happy child since birth, and today was just another appointment to ensure that everything was progressing as it should.
you had scheduled the appointment weeks ago, not knowing who the pediatrician was going to be. when you walked into the small, sunlit office, minji tugged excitedly on your sleeve, her eyes wide with curiosity at the brightly colored walls and the small toys scattered around the waiting room.
“mommy, look!” she gasped, pointing to a painted giraffe. her excitement momentarily eased the nervous flutter in your stomach. “a giraffe!”
“yes, it is, bun! good job!” you smile down at the little girl, holding your hand tightly.
it had been over three years. three years since you’d left your old life—and him—behind. baekhyun was supposed to be a part of your daughter’s story, but you made the impossible choice of keeping him out of it. his dreams had always been so big, and you didn’t want to weigh them down with your own.
a medical assistant called your name, her warm, practiced smile cutting through the haze of your thoughts.
you scooped your daughter into your arms, her tiny hands clutching her stuffed bunny, and followed the nurse into the examination room. she wriggled slightly but settled on your lap, the bunny tucked snugly under her chin as she began the usual routine.
height. weight. temperature. the nurse kept up a cheerful, steady rhythm of chatter, her voice a soft hum in the background as your daughter giggled at the stickers offered to her.
“dr. byun will be in shortly,” the medical assistant said with a final smile before leaving the room.
your heart stopped.
'dr. byun'?
no. it couldn’t be him. it had to be a coincidence. it was a common enough name, wasn’t it? but the sound of it crashed into you, unraveling the calm façade you’d so carefully built.
you told yourself you were being ridiculous. you told yourself to breathe. but the name echoed in your head, louder with every passing second, until you could barely hear your own thoughts over the roar of panic rising in your chest.
then came the knock.
soft. polite.
the door creaked open, and time seemed to slow to an agonizing crawl as he stepped inside.
your breath caught in your throat.
it was him.
fuck.
no.
this wasn’t supposed to happen. not like this. this wasn’t how he was supposed to find out. there were plans you never made, conversations you never had.
this was a complete and utter nightmare. and there was no waking up from it.
“hi, i’m dr. byun—” his voice wavered, the words barely leaving his lips before they caught in his throat. his eyes found yours, wide with recognition, a spark of disbelief flashing like lightning in a storm.
his gaze drifted downward, landing on the little girl perched on your lap. her tiny hands clutched your sweater, her curious eyes meeting his with unfiltered wonder.
for a moment, the world seemed to stop turning.
his lips parted, and your name slipped out, soft and breathless, as if saying it might make the moment vanish. “it’s you,” he murmured, a mixture of shock and something deeper lacing his tone.
you couldn’t find your voice, couldn’t push past the lump forming in your throat. it was as though every nerve in your body had frozen, locked under the weight of his stare.
your daughter, oblivious to the tension coiling around you, tilted her head with a sunny smile. her voice rang out, bright and pure, shattering the silence like glass.
“hi, dr. byun!” she chirped, her words sweet and unassuming, a small anchor of innocence in the overwhelming tide of emotions threatening to pull you under.
baekhyun’s eyes widened instantly, flickering between you and her. you could see the cogs in his mind turning, the pieces falling into place far quicker than you were ready for.
his gaze lingered on her—studying, comparing. the resemblance was impossible to ignore. the same dark, expressive eyes that had once melted your heart, the same warm, radiant smile that mirrored his own.
“is…is she?” his voice was barely above a whisper, as though he wasn’t asking you but trying to make sense of the impossible himself. his eyes never left her, as if every second he stared brought him closer to the undeniable truth.
her delicate features were a perfect blend of you both, like a portrait painted with pieces of your souls. the curve of his nose graced her face, paired with the flush of your rosy cheeks. his silky black hair framed her tiny head, while your lips formed the gentle pout she wore even in sleep. your eyes shone through hers, but her ears—those were unmistakably his. she was everything you were, everything he was—woven together into this perfect, fragile little person, carrying pieces of a love that felt both timeless and out of reach. and now, looking at her, there was no denying it.
your mouth opened, but the words didn’t come. you tried to speak, to explain, to say something—anything—but all that escaped was a breath, shallow and lost in the silence that filled the space between you. the truth hung there, thick and fragile, like a thread that could snap at any moment, leaving you exposed.
you could only nod, slow and uncertain, as the weight of everything pressed down on you. the guilt was suffocating, heavy like a stone lodged in your chest, threatening to spill out in the form of tears you couldn’t afford to shed. but there was no escaping it anymore.
she was his.
baekhyun sank to his knees in front of her, his movements tentative, as if afraid that any sudden motion might make her disappear. he leaned in, eyes soft with a mixture of awe and something deeper, something unspoken.
“so, tell me. what’s your name, sweetheart?” his voice was gentle, tender, the words falling from his lips like a promise he wasn’t quite ready to make.
“minji,” she said proudly, her tiny hands holding up her stuffed bunny, as though it were the most important thing in the world. “this is sonny. she’s a bunny.”
the moment her name reached his ears, something shifted in baekhyun’s chest. his heart skipped, and a smile tugged at the corners of his lips, soft and amazed. for a brief second, he was lost in the memory of a quiet conversation—the one where you’d asked him what he would want to name your daughter, and how that moment, so simple, had felt like a lifetime ago.
“hi, minji,” he said softly, his voice trembling as his eyes locked onto her small, curious face. he crouched slightly, lowering himself to her level, and the words caught in his throat. “i’m…” his gaze flickered upward to yours, and in that brief second, the weight of it all was laid bare. his expression faltered, his eyes glossing with unshed tears, carrying the unspoken words and unresolved emotions that hung heavy between you.
you saw it then—the man he was before, the one you fell for, unchanged and yet altered by time and pain.
“…a good friend of your mommy’s,” he finally managed, the words shaky but kind.
minji giggled, her laughter light and carefree, like a burst of sunshine breaking through a storm. “mommy has lots of friends!” she chirped, her innocence unknowingly twisting the knife in baekhyun’s chest.
he nodded with a soft smile, his lips barely curving, as if the weight of her words was too much to bear. “she does, doesn’t she?” he murmured. his hands moved carefully as he began preparing for her exam, every motion deliberate, like he was trying to steady himself through the task.
but his eyes… his eyes stayed rooted to the ground, skirting around yours as if meeting your gaze would undo him entirely. and as you stood there, watching him avoid you, something inside you cracked. you knew why. you knew he wasn’t ready yet—not to face you, not to confront the flood of everything that had been left unsaid.
as baekhyun began the check-up, it was as if the floodgates of your heart had been ripped open. memories surged in, overwhelming you like a tidal wave—those plans you had once woven together, the future you had dreamed of, the life you thought you’d build before everything crumbled. nearly four years had passed since you disappeared without a trace, but those dreams now felt like fragile, delicate threads, tangled in the web of secrets you’d spun to protect him.
baekhyun moved with the same calm professionalism that you remembered—his hands steady and sure as he worked. but you couldn’t tear your gaze away from him, from the way he interacted with minji—his touch soft and deliberate, his voice lilting with that same soothing cadence. it was a tenderness that sliced through you, sharp and immediate, a reminder of everything you’d lost. how could you have let him slip away? how could you have convinced yourself that walking away was the right choice?
watching him, gently checking minji’s ears, his voice quieting her in the way he once did for you, something inside you twisted painfully. you couldn’t run from him anymore. not now. not ever again.
the exam ended far too quickly. minji bounced off the examination table, her bunny clutched in her small arms, and baekhyun handed you a stack of papers—educational handouts, visit summaries, the usual paperwork from a child’s wellness check. his fingers brushed yours as he passed them to you, and the brief touch left a burning trail that lingered long after.
minji’s small hand tugged at your sleeve, warm and insistent, her voice a soft melody that cut through the heavy air. “mommy, mommy! can we go play now?”
you forced a smile, but it didn’t reach your eyes. the weight of the moment pressed on your chest, and you fought to keep the tears from falling. “sure, bun. we’ll go in just a minute.”
the word bun hung in the air between you, and baekhyun flinched. his eyes flickered with something raw, a mix of pain and recognition. that name. it was something he used to call you— a relic of a past that felt both distant and achingly close.
his gaze didn’t leave you, like he was trying to unravel the walls you’d so carefully built around yourself. there was a quiet intensity in his eyes, as if he was searching for something buried deep within you. the space between you both thickened, heavy with unspoken words. it felt suffocating, like the air was being stolen from your lungs. this was it. the moment that would change everything.
after what felt like an eternity, baekhyun cleared his throat, his voice thick with restraint. “we need to talk,” he said, the words heavy and laced with something you couldn’t quite name. “please… i just… i have so many questions.”
you nodded quickly, the anxiety twisting your insides into knots. “um, sure… i can meet you after i drop her off at daycare?” your words rushed out, frantic, as your brow furrowed in uncertainty.
"there’s a coffee shop nearby," he murmured, his voice soft yet steady, the words deliberate. his hand moved to pull out a notepad, pen poised above the paper. with a few swift strokes, he jotted down the name of the place before folding the paper and handing it to you. "i have a couple more patients to see this morning. do you think you can meet me there in an hour?"
his voice was calm, but his eyes—those eyes—told a different story. they flickered with something raw, something desperate, like a storm fighting its way to the surface.
you took the slip of paper, your fingers brushing his, a small shock of warmth shooting through you at the touch. you glanced down at the paper, his handwriting still familiar, though now slightly uneven, as if his nerves had bled into the ink. beneath the coffee shop's name, his number was written—neat but hurried, a subtle tremor in the lines.
you looked back up, and his gaze met yours—quiet, intense, full of unspoken things. without a word, he nodded toward the paper, his voice steady but laced with something fragile, something that didn’t quite fit with the man you knew. "that's my number, bun. just in case you're running late or something."
you nodded, a smile tugging at the corners of your mouth, but it felt tight, strained. his nickname for you—a small, tender thing—lingered in the air like a spark. you felt it in your chest, but the words caught in your throat. too much. too many emotions swirling. your hands moved on instinct, gathering minji’s things, offering him a tight, polite smile before ushering your daughter out of the room.
but just as you turned to leave, you swore you heard him whisper—barely audible, a plea caught between his teeth, "please, don't leave me hanging this time."
it hit you like a blow to the gut, leaving you breathless. the weight of it pressed down on you, suffocating.
and in that moment, you knew with brutal clarity—you deserved that.

you sat there, the weight of your nerves pressing down on you, each breath feeling too loud in the quiet of the café. baekhyun chatted casually with the barista, ordering drinks like it was any other day, like nothing had changed between you two. his voice was light, unbothered, but it only made the tension in your chest heavier. you gripped the strap of your bag so tightly your fingers ached, heart pounding in your ears, drowning out the soft hum of conversation around you. your mind raced in circles, desperately searching for the right words—something to apologize for the years you took from him, for keeping his daughter from him, for all the lies. but no matter how hard you tried to form the apology, the truth hovered over you: what you did was unforgivable.
when baekhyun finally returned, he slid your drink in front of you, his movements slower than usual, almost tentative. you brought the cup to your lips, the warmth of it familiar, the taste exactly as you remembered—comforting, like a quiet reminder of everything you'd tried to bury.
"i remembered how you liked your coffee," baekhyun murmured, his voice softer than before, tinged with uncertainty. "i hope it's still the same."
you met his gaze, your throat tight as you forced a small smile. "it is. thank you."
baekhyun exhaled a heavy breath, running a hand through his hair, his fingers snagging in the tousled strands. his eyes drifted away from yours, unable to meet your gaze, as if the weight of this moment was pressing down on him just as much as it was on you.
"so..." you began, your voice hesitant, but before you could find the right words, he interrupted.
“i’m engaged,” he blurted, the words sharp and sudden, like a slap to the face.
it hit you in the chest, the shock stealing the air from your lungs. the room seemed to tilt, the ground beneath you crumbling, and you couldn’t find your footing. as if this day wasn’t heavy enough, this new weight crushed you under its force.
"oh," you whispered, the word tasting hollow, barely escaping as your heart constricted. "congratulations. i'm sure she's... amazing."
"mhm," he hummed softly, a brief flicker of a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth before it faded. his eyes dropped to his coffee cup, watching the steam rise like he was searching for something in the shifting mist, anything to avoid the tension between you.
you couldn’t find the strength to say more. words seemed pointless now. instead, you sat there, biting your lip, your gaze fixed on the table as jealousy and heartbreak clawed at you from the inside. you knew you had no right to feel this way, no right to be hurt after everything that had happened. but still, the ache lingered, a quiet, relentless sting.
his fingers raked through his hair again, the tension in his jaw unmistakable as he exhaled sharply, frustration thick in the air. when he finally met your gaze, his eyes were raw with hurt, every unspoken word between you now painfully exposed. "so why didn't you tell me? about minji?"
you'd rehearsed this moment a thousand times in your mind, each word crafted carefully, but now, sitting across from him, it all felt empty, hollow. "you had just gotten into your residency program," you said softly, voice shaky. "it was your dream. i…i didn’t want to hold you back."
his eyes darkened, the hurt twisting into something sharper. "so what? you thought you could decide for me? you think i wouldn't have wanted to be there?" his voice cracked with emotion, rising. "do you have any idea how much i waited for you? how many nights i sat by the phone, praying you'd call?"
the weight of it hit you, hard. you'd known, of course—he'd been dropped from the program. he'd fought tooth and nail to get into a second-choice school, one that brought him here, to this city. and now, here he was, sitting across from you, the remnants of his sacrifice hanging in the silence between you.
his gaze faltered, dropping to the steaming cup in front of him. he stared at the swirling mist as if it held the answers, as if the rising steam could ease the hurt, the questions, the ache that had settled between you.
you didn’t know what to say anymore. words felt pointless, insignificant in the face of everything that had unfolded. instead, you sat there, biting your lip, unable to meet his eyes, while jealousy and regret clawed at your chest. it wasn’t your place to feel this way—not after everything you had done. but the sting of it, sharp and biting, wouldn’t fade.
the tears you had spent so long holding back finally began to break free, each drop feeling like it had been waiting a lifetime to fall. you didn’t want to keep apologizing, but the words slipped out, hollow and fragile. "it wasn’t an easy choice, baekhyun. i thought i was doing the right thing."
“‘the right thing’?” his voice softened, but the hurt in his words still rang out like a chord being pulled too tight. "you didn’t even give me a chance. i missed everything—her first steps, her first words. you took all of that from me."
your throat tightened, each breath harder to catch. you swallowed, and your voice cracked under the weight of the truth. “i know,” you whispered, the regret clawing at you. “i regret it every day.”
baekhyun’s hands were curled into fists, white knuckles pressing into the table like they could anchor him in place. he didn’t look at you—his gaze was lost in his coffee, the silence hanging heavily between you both. and then, after what felt like an eternity of stillness, he spoke again, his voice quieter, as if the question had burned him from the inside. “does she know?”
you shook your head slowly, feeling your chest tighten. “i haven’t told her. i didn’t know how... but she’s been asking. she sees the other kids with their dads and wonders why she doesn’t have one.”
baekhyun covered his face with his hands, rubbing his eyes as if trying to erase the raw pain. "i can't believe this. i can't believe you."
"i know, baekhyun," you whispered, tears spilling down your face without control now. "you have every right to hate me... and if you want, you don’t have to see either one of us again—"
his voice sliced through your words, thick with disbelief, tremoring as if he couldn’t comprehend what you were saying. "are you... are you serious right now? you’d leave? again? how is that supposed to fix anything? did you not think i wanted her? wanted you? we’ve talked about this, bun... you knew what it meant for me to be a dad."
the sobs broke free from you then, impossible to hold back, your chest aching with each desperate breath. you wiped at your face, but your hands trembled too violently, the tears just wouldn’t stop. all you could choke out were broken apologies, fragments of regret slipping between your breaths. "i knew you’d drop everything for her. for us. but... you becoming a doctor, that was your dream... and i was just so scared."
he leaned forward, his expression softening, but there was still a fire in his eyes. “i want to be in her life,” he said, his voice firm, steady, eyes red from the silent tears streaming down his face. “she’s my daughter. and i want to know her. i want her to know me. her father.”
you looked at him, your heart heavy with guilt. “i wasn’t planning to keep you away,” you said, your voice cracking. “i just... i didn’t know how to tell you after all this time.”
baekhyun’s gaze softened, his voice quieter but resolute. “we’ll figure it out. but i’m not letting you push me away again.”
you paused, biting your lip, anxiety clawing at your chest. “but what about your fiancée? you already had a life of your own before today…i can’t help but feel like i’ve fucked everything up for you, baekhyun.”
he shook his head, a soft, bitter laugh escaping him before he quickly suppressed it. his voice faltered, the nickname slipping out before he even realized it. “don’t worry about that, bun—” he stopped mid-sentence, the word tasting strange and wrong on his tongue after your mention of his fiancée. it was as if, in that moment, he’d completely forgotten about her. he cleared his throat, trying to steady himself. “i mean… just let me handle that. but for now... please, promise me you won’t disappear again. promise me you won’t take her away from me. i’m begging you... let me in. i feel like you owe me that much.”
you nodded, the promise catching in your throat. “i promise.”

you scrolled slowly through your camera roll, fingers grazing over the images of your daughter, sharing them with baekhyun—each one, a snapshot of her life, a memory you’d held in secret for so long. each photo was like a tender piece of your soul, each moment a quiet confession of everything that had unfolded without him. there was a rawness in it, a vulnerability that felt like you were unwrapping your heart for him, and it was overwhelming. for both of you.
he sat there, eyes scanning the photos, and a storm of emotions swirled within him. there was anger, sharp and bitter, that you’d kept minji hidden from him. all those years, a secret that was both yours and hers to carry. betrayal lingered in his chest, not from you, but from the truth that he hadn’t been there, that he’d missed out on so much. and yet, despite it not being his fault, guilt settled heavy in his heart—guilt that you had to raise her alone. guilt for every moment you’d carried the weight of motherhood without him by your side.
but baekhyun, the man who had always been able to push past the shadows of the past, found something in the photos—something bright, something he could hold onto. minji’s smile, sweet and dimpled, was a beacon of hope. it was everything he needed to see, to ignite a fire within him. it wasn’t just a reminder of what was lost—it was the fuel that would drive him to make up for every single moment he’d missed.
the weight of the conversation shifted slowly, and before you even realized it, the words spilled out. you couldn’t stop yourself—you had to ask about her. his fiancée.
he told you her name was soo. they met during his residency, he said, when she helped pull him from the darkest corner of his life—the place where your absence had left him, broken and barely breathing. she was the one who stitched him back together, the one who healed the wound you’d left, a wound that, it seemed, only she could mend.
and yet, even as he spoke, despite the rawness of his confession, he wasn’t trying to make you feel guilty. he didn’t want to hurt you. but the words hung there, thick with unspoken emotions.
then, he showed you the photos. of her. oh god, she was beautiful. radiant, in a way that seemed to glow from within. they looked like they were made for each other, perfectly matched, intertwined in a way you could never hope to be. he spoke of her with awe—how brilliant and kind she was.
and as he spoke, something tugged at the edges of your thoughts. his eyes, usually so bright and full of warmth when he spoke of someone he loved, were different now. softer, distant. the sparkle that once lived there had dimmed, as if the affection he had for her wasn’t as alive as it once had been. you told yourself not to read too much into it, to not dwell on the subtle shift. it had been years. people changed, didn’t they? he wasn’t the same baekhyun you remembered. especially not after everything you had put him through.
it stirred a jealousy in you, sharp and bitter, but deeper than that, it left a dull ache settling in your chest. you longed to be the one he spoke of with such adoration, the one he admired in every way. you couldn’t stop yourself from wondering if he ever spoke about you like that—if he ever felt for you the way he now seemed to feel for her. it burned like poison in your veins, a vile and familiar ache that made you sick to your stomach. you hated it. hated how it made you feel so small, so unimportant. the weight of it made you want to vanish, to slip out of your own skin, anything to escape the suffocating reality of it all. you should be happy for him. happy that he had found someone who could make him feel whole again. but all you could feel was the hollow ache of your own failure to ever be enough.
you tried to smile, tried to hold yourself together, but each compliment, each story, each glowing word about her, hit you like a dagger to the chest. you couldn’t listen anymore. you didn’t want to.
it was too much. before you even realized it, you were standing, your throat tight as you forced the words out. “i... i need to go. um, i have to make dinner…and pick up minji from daycare. i’ll text you. we can figure out a time for you both to meet properly.”
before he could respond, you were out the door, the bells above the café door jingling as you fled.
but you didn’t make it far. a few seconds later, you heard the hurried footsteps behind you, his voice calling out. “bun—fuck, wait! slow down!”
you could feel the tears streaming down your face again, hot and uncontrollable. you wiped them hastily, hoping he didn’t see. but of course, he did. he always did.
“look,” baekhyun began, his voice softer now, tinged with something you couldn’t place. “i never thought i’d hear from you again. and now you just—pop back into my life, on a random friday, with a daughter i had no idea about. i’m sorry if you’re upset that there’s someone else in my life. but please... don’t punish me for finding myself again after you completely destroyed me.”
his words hit harder than anything you could’ve prepared for. your knees felt weak, your heart shattering with every syllable. because it was true. every part of it. you had done this. you’d pushed him away, and now you had no right to feel this way, no right to demand anything.
"baek," you whispered, your voice barely above a breath, trembling under the weight of everything you couldn’t say. "you’re right. i don’t have the right to feel this way. i just... when i saw you again, it was like everything came crashing back. all those old feelings—things i thought i’d buried—flooded back in an instant. but i swear, i won’t keep minji from you. i won’t. and... i’m honestly so glad you’ve found happiness. and soo—she... she seems amazing. i can see why you’re with her. and... i’m genuinely looking forward to co-parenting with you both. really."
you swallowed hard, the words like sandpaper against your throat. the lie at the end tasted bitter, clinging to the back of your tongue, but you forced them out anyway. you needed him to believe it. needed him to let you go so you could retreat to the quiet of your own space, where you could curl up and weep in the solitude of your own shame.
his expression softened, though there was something unreadable in his eyes. “hmm…okay.” he reached into his pocket, pulling out your phone. “you left this on the table. and, uh… you promise you’ll stay in contact?”
you nodded quickly, unlocking your phone and typing your name into the message. “you have mine now, too.”
a small relief flashed in his eyes when he saw your name on the screen. he nodded, his voice steady. “thank you. let me know when you’re both ready. we’ll make this work.”
you nodded, your throat tight as you wiped away the last of the tears. you offered him a half-smile, barely managing to hold it together, before turning away. your feet felt heavy as you walked to your car, the silence between you louder than anything.

when you finally arrived home, everything came crashing down at once, a tidal wave that hit you full-force. the weight of everything you’d been holding inside pressed into your chest, suffocating, like your lungs had forgotten how to breathe. you collapsed, body trembling, as sobs wrenched their way through you—soft, guttural cries that seemed to echo in the emptiness of your apartment. tears streamed down your face, thick and relentless, each one heavier than the last, as if they were washing away more than just your sorrow. how had you managed to mess everything up this badly?
the feeling of being lost in your own failure was dizzying, a dark spiral that threatened to swallow you whole.
chanyeol, your next-door neighbor, was more than just a friendly face. he was a single parent too, his daughter nari being the same age as minji. from the moment you’d moved in, the girls had been inseparable—like they were two halves of the same whole, constantly together, sharing everything from toys to whispered secrets. and over time, you and chanyeol had become something more than neighbors. you were lifelines to one another, navigating the chaos of single parenthood side by side. daycare pickups, late-night texts for advice, emergency contact calls—they were moments that built trust, moments that held you both up when the world felt too heavy.
but then there were the other moments. the ones that neither of you had planned, yet they happened all the same.
on nights when the girls had sleepovers, tucked under either your roof or his, the house would fall into an eerie stillness, a quiet so profound it felt almost alien. no toys scattered across the floor, no giggles or whispers. just an empty house, and the faint hum of the world outside. in those moments, the bottle of wine always made its way to the table—deep crimson liquid swirling in your glass, catching the soft light in a way that felt too intimate, too inviting. the scent of it lingered in the air, rich and heady, like a secret waiting to be shared. one glass became two, then three, until the words flowed freely, unguarded.
laughter bubbled between you both, light and carefree, mingling with the quiet sounds of the night. and somewhere, in the subtle space between casual conversation and shared history, something shifted—unspoken, but impossible to ignore. it wasn’t deliberate, not in the beginning, but it was undeniable. a quiet tension hung between you both, the kind that hummed just below the surface, like a chord waiting to be struck.
in the warm, dim light, the lines between friendship and something more began to blur. his lips brushed yours—not quite a kiss, but not exactly innocent either. the taste of wine lingered on his mouth, mingling with something darker, something deeper, something unspoken. your hands—almost of their own accord—found their way to each other, fingers tracing the outline of familiar paths, not quite daring to go any further. the touch was careful, deliberate, like a dance on the edge of something you both knew was dangerous, but too tempting to resist.
each kiss lingered just long enough to leave you wanting more, but never deepened enough to cross the line you both feared. the weight of unspoken rules hung between you, pulling back every time either of you tried to cross the line. clothes were the only barrier between you, a fragile wall that you both clung to, even as the urge to tear it down grew stronger.
but even in the silence, the weight of your unresolved feelings for baekhyun settled heavily in the room, a ghost that neither of you could escape. and chanyeol—he carried his own baggage. the loss of his wife, a wound that had never fully healed, leaving him to raise nari on his own, balancing grief and fatherhood in a way that only he understood. he wasn’t looking for more. not from you. not yet.
the timing was all wrong, the space between you wasn’t yours to claim. but in those rare moments, it felt as if maybe, just maybe, it could have been.
it was never spoken aloud, but you both knew the truth. chanyeol knew you still loved baekhyun, and that truth hung between you like a quiet weight. neither of you disturbed it. the unspoken agreement between you was that your daughters came first, no matter what. whatever might have blossomed between you, if it ever did, had to come naturally, unburdened by guilt or pretense.
but in those moments, when the air between you grew thick with something more, a quiet voice inside you would pull you back. it reminded you of the messy knots still holding your heart in place, the wounds that hadn’t yet healed. you couldn’t move forward—not yet. not while your heart was still tangled with baekhyun.
chanyeol, always the gentleman, never pushed. he was patient, always aware of your needs, always respectful of the boundaries you set. when you needed to talk, he listened; when you needed space, he gave it. but in the quiet of his own heart, he couldn’t help but feel more for you than he allowed himself to admit. how could he not? you were beautiful, strong, and a devoted mother. you embraced nari as your own, and in doing so, you made his heart ache in ways he couldn’t express. even knowing your heart was still tethered to someone else, he couldn’t stop himself from wishing—just for a moment—that maybe, just maybe, one day you’d find your way to him.
he carried that silent ache with the kind of grace only he could muster, never letting it slip, even as it quietly wore at him, just a little more each day.
so when you texted him—asking if he could pick up minji, keeping the explanation vague, not wanting him to worry—he was there. barely ten minutes later, a soft knock at your door echoed through the silence.
when you opened it, his wide eyes met the mess that was you—mascara streaks trailing down your cheeks, a crumpled tissue clenched in your trembling hand. you tried to muster a smile, but it felt paper-thin, your voice weak and brittle. “yeolie? what’s up?”
the words barely left your lips before he froze in place, his expression shifting from confusion to alarm. “a-are you okay? what’s going on? did someone—did something happen? is minji okay? are you sick? do you need me to take you to the hospital?” his voice cracked, the flood of questions spilling out in rapid succession, his panic tangible.
you stepped aside, pulling the door open wider, silently inviting him in. he didn’t hesitate, stepping through, his gaze glued to yours like he was searching for answers in your tear-stained face.
he trailed behind you to the couch, his presence steady and grounding as you collapsed onto the cushions, tears streaming freely. through shaky breaths, you unraveled the tangled mess of your day—the awkward reunion, the jumbled emotions, the weight of everything that seemed to be crumbling all at once. you didn’t dare admit the jealousy clawing at your chest, the hollow ache that filled you when baekhyun spoke about his fiancée with such love. that part you kept tucked away, too raw, too humiliating to expose.
chanyeol sat beside you, his towering frame a comforting shadow as he listened. really listened. his hand moved in soothing circles along your back, a silent reassurance that he wasn’t going anywhere.
your words poured out, no longer confined to just the events of the day but expanding into everything—the years that had passed, the guilt that had burrowed deep and refused to let go. every regret, every misstep, every weight you’d carried alone spilled out in a torrent of tears and confessions. and chanyeol just sat there, unwavering, holding space for you in the way only a true friend could.
“hey,” he began, his voice soft yet steady, as if anchoring you in the storm of your own thoughts. that signature dimpled smile appeared, warm and reassuring, carrying a kindness that made your chest tighten. “no one’s perfect,” he said, his gaze locking with yours, as though he could see the weight of your regret. “it’s okay to have moments you wish you could take back. you don’t need to have it all figured out right now—just take it one step at a time, yeah? what matters is where you go from here, and i know you’ll choose the right path.”
his hand brushed against yours, grounding you further. “no matter what, nari and i will always be here. for you and minji. you’re not in this alone.”
you swallowed hard, his words cutting through the mess of emotions tangled in your chest. the sincerity in his voice, the unwavering warmth in his eyes—it was almost too much. you nodded slowly, blinking back the tears threatening to spill.
“thank you,” you whispered, your voice barely audible, but you knew he heard it. “i don’t even know if i deserve this kind of support... but it means everything. truly.”
your fingers fidgeted with the edge of your sleeve, the weight of his reassurance settling over you like a safety net. the corner of your lips lifted into the faintest smile, a flicker of gratitude breaking through your doubt. “and…thank you, yeollie. for always being here for us.”
he pulled you into a hug, the kind only chanyeol could give—one that made you feel like you were wrapped in the coziest, softest blanket on the coldest day. his size alone made it impossible not to feel safe, like he could shield you from the entire world.
"stay put," he murmured, his voice low and soothing against your hair. "i’ll go pick up the girls. how about we pick up a pizza on the way home? maybe a bottle of wine to go with it?"
you couldn’t help the small laugh that bubbled up, the weight on your chest lifting just enough to let it out. "yeah... i’d like that. thanks, yeol."
he grinned as he stood, his steps sure and familiar as he moved to the fridge. the sound of the door opening and bottles clinking against each other filled the room. when he returned, he handed you one of the water bottles, twisting the cap off for you with ease.
"drink up," he said, flicking a finger gently under your chin to tilt your head up, a playful glint in his eyes. "don’t need you passing out on me from dehydration."
his teasing tone, coupled with the affection in his gesture, made your heart feel a little lighter. you took the bottle from him, your fingers brushing his briefly, and for the first time all day, you felt a spark of comfort.

later that night, minji lay tucked beneath her soft quilt, her favorite bunny held close to her chest. the warm glow of the nightlight painted her face in soft hues, the shadows dancing gently across her room like a lullaby. you leaned over her small form, pressing a tender kiss to her forehead. "i love you," you whispered, your voice a soothing murmur. "sleep tight, bun."
as your hand hovered over the light switch, her voice stopped you in your tracks, delicate yet filled with curiosity. "hey, mommy," she called, her tone innocent and thoughtful. "why does that doctor from earlier call you that, too?"
the question struck a chord deep within you, freezing you for a moment as your heart stumbled over itself. turning back toward her, you forced a smile, smoothing the sudden tension coiling in your chest. walking slowly to her bedside, you perched at the edge, meeting her wide, trusting eyes. "well," you started softly, your voice steady despite the fluttering unease within. "like dr. byun said, he's a really good friend of mine. that’s where i got your nickname, too."
her face lit up, her small smile so pure it made your heart ache. she nodded slowly, processing your words in that way only children can, her gaze thoughtful yet brimming with trust. "he was nice," she said, her tone sweet and certain. "i really liked him."
"yeah?" you asked, crouching down so your eyes were level with hers, the warmth of her sincerity wrapping around you like a blanket. her simple joy tugged at something tender within you. "would you like to see him again?"
her smile widened, blooming like the sun breaking through clouds. excitement sparkled in her eyes, her whole face lighting up in a way that mirrored her love for ice cream on hot afternoons. she nodded vigorously, her enthusiasm bubbling over.
"uh-huh!" she chirped, her joy infectious, spreading a flicker of warmth through your own heart.
you couldn’t help but laugh, the sound soft and full of love. "okay, bunny," you said, tucking a stray strand of hair behind your ear, your voice tender. "sleep tight, 'kay?" you pressed another soft kiss to her forehead, lingering for a moment, before turning off the light. the door clicked shut softly behind you.
standing in the hallway, your back against the cool wall, you let out a long, shaky breath, the weight of the day settling heavily in your chest. the silence was broken by a ping from your phone, pulling you out of your thoughts. you stared at the screen, the light illuminating your face as a new message appeared.
baekhyun:
thank you for today. let’s talk soon about how we move forward—together.
your chest tightened, the words settling over you like a heavy blanket. this was the beginning of something you hadn’t seen coming, something that made your pulse race with equal parts fear and exhilaration.
you responded quickly, almost without thinking:
you free tomorrow to go over details?
the path ahead was a little scary and clouded with uncertainty, but one thing was for sure: baekhyun was here, and he wasn’t going anywhere.

baekhyun and minji bonded quicker than you ever imagined. their first playdate was a sunny afternoon at the park, where baekhyun seemed completely absorbed in her. every giggle, every burst of energy as she dashed between slides and swings, every scrunched-nose smile lit up his face. it was as if he was trying to memorize every little detail about her, committing her essence to memory. minji, ever the social butterfly, welcomed him without hesitation—just as she did her classmates, her teachers, and even chanyeol.
chanyeol.
his name slipped into your thoughts uninvited, a shadow that tugged at your focus. why were you thinking about him now? you blinked hard, shaking the thought away. the last thing you needed was to let another layer of complication invade your already chaotic emotions.
then came that afternoon. baekhyun had come to drop minji off at your place, the usual familiarity of the moment interrupted by the unexpected. when the door swung open, it wasn’t you standing there—it was chanyeol.
“baekhyun, right?” chanyeol greeted him warmly, his easy smile bright enough to momentarily disarm. his dimple pressed deep into his cheek, as if it was carved there just for moments like this. snapping his fingers in playful recognition, he added, “i’ve heard so much about you.” he gestured casually over his shoulder, as if to invite baekhyun in. “i’m chanyeol. and that’s nari over there.”
baekhyun froze, the weight of the moment pressing down on him like an invisible force. for a split second, his expression faltered, eyes flickering to the cheerful little girl in the background, her laughter filling the air. then, his gaze shifted back to chanyeol, studying him with a quiet intensity. there was something unspoken in the air between them, subtle yet impossible to ignore—a tension that lingered like a low hum.
his eyes darted past chanyeol, chest tightening as they landed on you. you were seated on the floor, cross-legged, a radiant smile stretching across your face as you and nari played with minji’s toys. the sound of your laughter, bright and unguarded, hit him square in the chest, stirring something raw and vulnerable deep inside him. you looked so at ease, as if the joy spilling from you was effortless, untouched by the weight of the past.
“hi, chanyeol!” minji’s voice rang out, cutting through the fog of his thoughts. her tiny arms stretched toward the tall man, her excitement spilling over in a cheerful squeal.
chanyeol didn’t hesitate, scooping her up with the ease of someone who’d done it a hundred times before. “i missed you!” minji giggled, wrapping her small arms tightly around his neck.
“i missed you too, bun,” chanyeol replied with a wide grin, holding her close.
baekhyun’s stomach twisted, the word hitting him like a slap. bun. his nickname for her. no—their nickname. a sharp possessiveness surged through him, hot and consuming. did chanyeol call you that too? the thought crept in like a poison, making his jaw tighten. it was irrational, and yet it burned, carving out a hollow ache in his chest.
you stood then, walking toward them, your smile warm and glowing like the softest light. chanyeol still had minji perched on his hip, cradling her as if she were his own. he leaned in, planting an exaggerated, playful kiss on her cheek, earning a burst of delighted giggles from her.
the sound, the sight of it all—your ease, minji’s trust, chanyeol’s familiarity—brought baekhyun to the edge. his chest tightened, his breathing shallow, and for a brief, unsteady moment, he felt like he might collapse under the weight of it. the life he wanted was right in front of him, his life, and yet, it felt just out of reach.
“i missed you, bunny,” you murmured, your fingers tenderly brushing through her soft, dark hair. minji tilted her head up to you, her eyes glittering like tiny stars. then she turned to him, her small hand waving eagerly. “bye, baekhyun!” she chirped, her voice bright and pure, her little toothy grin so heartbreakingly innocent it nearly brought him to his knees.
baekhyun’s chest tightened, the pressure unbearable. how could something so sweet hurt so much?
you stepped closer, and for a fleeting moment, baekhyun forgot how to breathe. your smile was warm, easy, and devastatingly familiar—a smile that used to be his. it softened the tension hanging in the air, but to him, it cut deeper than any blade.
“thanks for picking her up from daycare,” you said, your voice gentle, almost apologetic. the sincerity in your tone slipped past every defense he’d tried to build since that day you walked back into his life. “did you wanna come inside for a bit? we usually do taco tuesdays with chanyeol and nari. you’re more than welcome to join us.”
your words were casual, but the invitation felt anything but. “i think it’d be great, actually,” you added, your voice bright with optimism. “since chanyeol’s been in minji’s life for a little over a year now.”
the floor seemed to tilt beneath him. his body stiffened, and a violent twist gripped his heart. chanyeol. a year. the words echoed mercilessly in his mind, louder and louder until they drowned out everything else. he wanted to tell you no, to scream it, to tell you he’d rather rip his chest open and claw his heart out than walk into that house and see the life you were building without him. a life that looked so perfect. a life where he was nothing but a footnote.
instead, he forced a smile—thin, hollow, the kind of smile that only deepened the cracks in his façade. it was nothing more than a mask, a feeble attempt to conceal the storm raging beneath his skin. “i’m actually in a hurry,” he said, the words stiff and unnatural as they stumbled off his tongue. “gotta get to the clinic.”
a lie, plain and simple. it came too easily, slipping past his lips like second nature. the instant it escaped, he felt the sick churn of regret twisting in his stomach, his voice betraying him with a clipped edge he couldn’t quite hide.
your head tilted slightly, confusion flickering across your face like a shadow. “didn’t you guys already close for the day?” you asked, your brows knitting together in that subtle way that always made his chest ache. “it’s past six.”
his pulse stuttered, a silent curse tumbling through his mind as he fumbled for an answer that wouldn’t shatter the fragile distance he was desperately clinging to. but nothing came. nothing convincing enough. nothing that didn’t feel like quicksand.
his feet shifted instinctively, retreating before his resolve could crumble further. “charts and prescriptions and... you know, stuff,” he mumbled, taking an awkward step back. “i’ll see you later.”
before you could say another word, he turned, walking briskly toward his car. his steps were measured, his pride refusing to let him break into a full-on sprint, even as his heart hammered like a war drum. every step felt heavier than the last, the weight of his lie and your confusion pressing down on him like a vice.
he didn’t dare look back. if he did, he knew he wouldn’t have the strength to keep going.
from behind him, minji’s giggles rang out like music, the sound breaking through the thickness in the air. you were pressing playful kisses to her cheeks, your exaggerated smooches sending her into a fit of laughter.
it was almost too much. the scene—the two of you together, so natural, so perfect—made his knees weak. he gripped the handle of his car door and paused, his chest heaving as he fought the urge to look back. to stay.
but he didn’t. he slid into the driver’s seat and pulled away, leaving behind the ache that followed him everywhere you and minji weren’t.
as baekhyun drove away, his grip on the steering wheel tightened until his knuckles turned a stark white. the image of you standing there with chanyeol and the two girls—your girls—seared into his mind, an indelible mark he couldn’t shake. you looked like a perfect family, like something pulled straight out of a dream. but for baekhyun, it was nothing short of a nightmare.
every mile he put between himself and your door pressed harder on the ache in his chest. his thoughts roared louder than the hum of the engine, drowning out everything but one relentless truth: that should’ve been me.
he couldn’t keep doing this—living in the fragile shell of a life that barely held him together. pretending he was fine without you, without minji. pretending that every day apart wasn’t hollow, wasn’t agony. each moment away from the two of you felt like a wound he couldn’t heal, the kind that gnawed at him constantly, leaving him restless and raw.
he dragged a trembling hand through his hair as the silence around him became unbearable. pacing the length of his living room later that night, his mind was still trapped back at your doorstep. he could hear your laugh echoing in his ears, the way it always lit up every corner of his world. the memory of your voice, soft and full of meaning, saying his name. minji’s tiny hands gripping his, her trust as effortless as her love. every memory sharpened the longing, the undeniable knowledge that you were his. you always had been. and yet, here he was—stuck in a life that felt like it belonged to someone else.
it wasn’t fair. not to him. not to you. and certainly not to her. the woman waiting for him at home, wearing the ring he had slipped onto her finger when he was too weak to face the truth. she deserved more. she deserved better. she deserved a man who wasn’t haunted by another woman’s smile, another child’s laughter.
his fists clenched at his sides as the weight of his choices bore down on him. guilt dug into him like a blade, twisting with every second. and yet, beneath it all, one truth burned brighter than anything else: he needed you. he needed you and minji, your warmth, your chaos, the life you had created without him.
he could feel it unraveling, the lie he was clinging to. every passing day stretched it thinner, threatening to snap. and when it did, he wasn’t sure what would be left of him—only that it wouldn’t be enough without you.

after a few more park playdates, you invited baekhyun over for dinner. when he arrived, he held two bouquets—one vibrant and blooming for you, and a smaller, delicate arrangement for minji.
minji’s face lit up as she clutched her flowers, her excitement spilling over as she helped baekhyun carefully arrange them in vases. you watched from the kitchen, your hands busy with dinner but your heart quietly swelling at the sight of them together.
dinner came and went in a blur of laughter and easy conversation. afterward, baekhyun insisted on helping clean up, minji trailing behind him like his little shadow. yet through it all, you couldn’t ignore the way his gaze lingered on you—soft, almost yearning. and every time you caught him, he’d quickly look away, his cheeks tinged with a hint of pink.
you tried to brush it off, convincing yourself it was nothing. that the bouquet meant nothing. but your heart betrayed you, skipping a beat every time your eyes met. your cheeks warmed under his gaze, though you told yourself it was absurd. he’s engaged, you reminded yourself firmly. he’s in love with someone else. it’s not you anymore. it hasn’t been for years.
later, baekhyun offered to get minji ready for bed, his enthusiasm lighting up the room. he approached each part of her bedtime routine with such care—a playful splash during her bath, patient encouragement as she brushed her teeth, and a warm smile as he read her a bedtime story.
you stood in the hallway, listening to her giggles and his gentle voice, your chest tightening with a mix of emotions you couldn’t quite name.
you walked back to the kitchen, the soft hum of the house wrapping around you as you reached for the wine bottle. the deep red liquid swirled as you poured it into two glasses, the rich aroma curling in the air. baekhyun had worked magic tonight, easing a rowdy toddler into sleep as if it were the simplest thing in the world. the image of him tucking minji in still lingered in your mind—a quiet smile on his face, his touch gentle but sure.
you thought about all the time you and minji had been spending with baekhyun lately felt like something out of a dream. it was everything you’d ever wished for but never thought you’d have. he slipped so seamlessly into her world, as if he’d always been there. their bond was undeniable—tickle fights that left her squealing with laughter, quiet moments where she leaned into him with absolute trust. watching them together only deepened the ache in your chest, the one that whispered how foolish you’d been to keep her from him for so long.
you told him as much one late afternoon, after a long stroll through the park. minji had fallen asleep in his arms, her little body spent from an afternoon of running through the playground while he chased her, pretending to be some silly monster. her tiny cheek squished against his shoulder, her breath soft and steady as she drooled onto his jacket. the two of you had laughed quietly, careful not to wake her.
“guess she’s making up for all the times it was you she drooled on instead,” he teased with a smirk, his voice warm and low.
it was in that fragile, golden moment that the words you’d been holding back tumbled out. “baekhyun, i... i’ve been feeling so awful. i’m not saying this for pity, i just—every time i see you with her, the guilt claws at me. i can’t believe i kept her from you for so long…i’m so sorry.”
your voice cracked, and then there were tears—hot, stinging, relentless.
baekhyun stopped in his tracks, his steps crunching against the gravel path as he gently grabbed your arm. his touch was firm but steady, grounding. he turned you to face him, his gaze steady, unwavering.
“hey,” he said softly, his voice pulling you out of your spiral. “what matters is now. and the future. i trust you, and i know you won’t keep her from me again. i’ve forgiven you... but maybe it’s time you forgave yourself.”
his words settled over you like a balm, soothing and unyielding, and for the first time in what felt like forever, the weight of your guilt began to feel a little lighter.
you’re pulled from your thoughts by the soft click of her bedroom door, the quiet shuffle of baekhyun’s steps filling the silence as he makes his way toward you. you know the sound of his walk so well, even after all these years. it’s comforting, familiar—the same measured rhythm, the same ease. in so many ways, he hasn’t changed. his laugh, his warm personality, the way his eyes crinkle into crescent moons when he smiles.
“she’s out,” he announces from the hallway, his voice soft but tinged with satisfaction as he spots you at the dining table.
you hand him the glass of wine you’d poured moments before, holding it out like a peace offering. “this is for all your hard work,” you tease, a light grin tugging at your lips.
he chuckles, the sound low and warm as he takes the glass from your hand, his fingers grazing yours for a fleeting second. the touch sends a jolt of electricity through you, unexpected but unmistakable, and you quickly avert your gaze, staring down at the table like it holds all the answers.
he settles into the chair beside you, close enough that you can feel the faint warmth radiating from him. you sip your wine, trying to steady yourself, before speaking. “so... have you and soo talked about setting up a time to meet her?”
his face shifts at the mention of her name. the change is subtle but telling—a flicker of discomfort, the kind you can’t unsee once you notice it.
“yeah,” he says after a pause, his fingers fidgeting with the stem of the wine glass. he takes a sip before continuing, his tone quieter now. “i actually wanted to talk to you about her.”
your heart sinks, unease settling in your chest like a stone. “oh?” you ask, cautious. “is everything okay?”
the worst thoughts swirl in your mind, a storm of possibilities. maybe she doesn’t want baekhyun spending time with minji. maybe she’s uncomfortable with you being part of the equation.
he exhales sharply, his thumb brushing against the rim of the glass. “yeah... i mean, i guess.” there’s a pause, a weight to his words that makes you hold your breath. “the engagement’s been called off.” his voice is steady, almost too steady, as if rehearsed.
your jaw drops before you can stop it. the shock is written all over your face, and baekhyun winces at your reaction, his gaze darting away. you quickly compose yourself, snapping your mouth shut as heat rises to your cheeks. “what happened?” you blurt, the words spilling out before you can think twice. “you seemed... so happy.”
your voice falters, and for a moment, you wonder if you’ve overstepped. the weight of your question lingers between you, heavy and unspoken, and you brace yourself for whatever comes next.
“i was. or... at least, i thought i was,” he says, his voice low and almost hesitant, as if he’s afraid to admit it even to himself. his hand moves to his hair, ruffling it in that familiar way he always did when the weight of his thoughts pressed too hard on him. a reflex, a habit you never forgot.
“and then you walked back into my life.” his voice is quiet, but there’s a rawness to it, like he’s pulling the words straight from the deepest part of him. your breath hitches, the air between you growing unbearably still as his gaze locks onto yours. there’s something in his eyes—something aching, desperate, like he’s trying to hold himself together while unraveling all at once.
“with her,” he continues, his voice breaking just enough to make your chest tighten, “this little girl who’s... everything. everything i didn’t know i was missing. she’s you and me, all tangled up in the most perfect way.” he swallows hard, his jaw clenching as though he’s fighting to steady himself. “and suddenly, nothing else makes sense anymore. not without you. not without her.”
the moment those words left his lips, the air seemed to shift. everything stilled—the hum of the world faded into silence, leaving only the thunderous echo of your heartbeat in your ears. had he really said that? the words hung between you, raw and unguarded, threatening to unravel everything you thought you understood.
his eyes searched yours, hesitant but resolute, as if willing you to see the truth in his gaze. when he spoke again, his voice softened, carrying a weight that made your breath hitch. “and the more time i spent with you both... the more i realized you’re what i want. you and minji. you’re what i really want in my life.”
his confession hit you with the force of a tidal wave, knocking the air from your lungs. you felt the ground tilt beneath you, the walls you’d carefully built around your heart quaking under the pressure of his words.
“baekhyun…” you whispered, your voice barely audible, your chest tightening as you forced yourself to ask, “are you… are you serious?”
but you already knew the answer. you could see it, clear as day, in the way his gaze didn’t waver.
“we can take our time… start slow,” baekhyun exhales, his voice carrying the weight of his confession as if it had been lodged in his chest for years. the vulnerability in his tone is raw, unguarded, and it almost makes you forget to breathe. “i mean… if that’s what you want, too.”
his words trail off, and for a moment, his usual confidence falters. a quiet doubt creeps into his thoughts—what if you’ve moved on? what if you don’t want this? the possibility churns in his mind, making him feel smaller, suddenly unsure.
“sorry,” he blurts out, shaking his head, gaze dropping to the floor. “i shouldn’t have said that—”
“no,” you interrupt, your voice firm but gentle, grounding him. your hand finds his, your fingers curling around his in a touch that feels achingly familiar, as though no time has passed. the warmth of his skin against yours sends a spark racing through your veins, a reassurance you didn’t realize you both needed.
he looks up, his eyes wide with hesitation, and you hold his gaze. “i’d… actually like that,” you admit, your voice softer now, a smile tugging at your lips. “start slow and see where we go.”
his shoulders visibly relax, and the faintest glimmer of hope flickers in his eyes. he squeezes your hand, his thumb brushing over your knuckles, and for the first time in a long time, it feels like the two of you are stepping into something whole and unbroken.

two weeks later, you stood in front of your closet, the door wide open and a growing pile of discarded clothes spilling onto the floor.
you were getting ready for a date.
with baekhyun.
your first date as parents.
the thought made your stomach flip with nerves and excitement. it felt surreal, almost like stepping into a story you didn’t dare dream for yourself. but as much as the idea of this new beginning thrilled you, the reality of your wardrobe—or lack thereof—was starting to feel like a nightmare.
minji was spending the evening with chanyeol and nari, her overnight bag already packed and slung over chanyeol’s shoulder when he came to pick her up. you couldn’t miss the way his expression shifted when you told him the reason for the favor, his smile faltering for the briefest second.
“it’s just dinner,” you’d explained softly. “we’re taking things slow, seeing where it goes.”
chanyeol had nodded, his lips pressing into a tight line. he couldn’t quite mask the pain in his eyes, though he tried.
“of course,” he’d said eventually, his voice steady despite the storm you could feel brewing beneath. “you know i’m always here for you…and minji.”
because that was just who chanyeol was—a steady, selfless anchor, even when it hurt.
now, as you tore through hangers and drawers, you glanced at your phone, a spike of panic shooting through you. less than two hours. how had the time slipped away so fast?
you groaned, flopping onto your bed as you stared at the heap of options that just weren’t right. nothing screamed ‘first date with the father of your child.’ nothing said ‘i’m nervous but excited and maybe a little terrified but i also want to look stunning.’
baekhyun.
you imagined the moment baekhyun would arrive, the image of him clear in your mind as if he were already standing at your door. he’d look effortlessly polished, the way only he could manage—like he’d stepped out of a magazine without even trying. his shirt would probably hug his lean frame just right, the soft fabric teasing at the lines of his shoulders and chest. his hair, always perfectly imperfect, would fall into place with a casualness that made you suspect he’d only run his fingers through it once before heading out.
and then there were his eyes—those warm, honeyed depths that had a way of making the world feel quieter, smaller. they carried a quiet determination now, a depth that hadn’t always been there, like the years apart had reshaped him, sharpened his focus. you could almost see the subtle tilt of his lips when he caught sight of you, a smile that wasn’t overly practiced but natural, like it belonged there because you did.
he never needed much time to get ready, and yet he always looked like he did. that was the thing about baekhyun—everything about him was easy, seamless, like he existed in his own effortless rhythm. it wasn’t about the clothes he chose or the way he styled his hair; it was about the energy he carried, the quiet confidence that drew people in.
and tonight, he’d be coming to pick you up—not just as the baekhyun you’d known before, but as someone determined to start fresh, someone who wanted to show you that maybe, just maybe, this could really work out.
you exhaled deeply, steadying yourself as you slid off the bed. pull it together, you thought, brushing your curled hair out of your face. tonight wasn’t just another evening—it felt like the start of something new, something tentative and hopeful, and you wanted to look the part. not just for baekhyun, but for yourself. you wanted to feel like the best version of you—the woman you were before, and the woman you were becoming.
your eyes drifted toward the top of your closet, where an old, forgotten box rested among stacks of seasonal items and spare blankets. a spark of hope flickered. you vaguely remembered stuffing your pre-pregnancy clothes up there, unable to let them go but convinced they might never fit again. now, that box felt like a treasure chest waiting to be rediscovered.
grabbing a step ladder, you climbed carefully, brushing the thick layer of dust from the box’s lid before tugging it down. a cloud of nostalgia seemed to escape as you peeled it open. there they were—rows of fabrics, textures, and memories you hadn’t touched in years. silky blouses, form-fitting dresses, sleek skirts... all the outfits you used to wear when going out felt like a second skin.
you sifted through them, piece by piece, fingers grazing over familiar fabrics as your heart swelled with a mix of apprehension and excitement. you pulled out a sleek dress, holding it up against yourself in the mirror. to your delight—and a little disbelief—it still fit, hugging your post-pregnancy curves in ways that made you feel both proud and beautiful.
you were finishing the last touches on your hair and makeup when the doorbell rang, slicing through the air like a sudden jolt. a flutter of butterflies stirred in your stomach, their wings beating furiously as nerves surged through you all at once. instinctively, you reached for your perfume, spritzing it lightly over your neck, the familiar scent wrapping around you like a soft, comforting embrace.
you took a long, steadying breath, eyes tracing your reflection in the mirror, checking every detail—the delicate curve of your lashes, the soft glow of your skin, the way your lips curved just right. you stepped back, allowing yourself a moment to really see the woman in front of you. had it really been so long since you dressed up like this? for anyone? the question lingered in the air.
and then it hit you, clear as day. it had been since baekhyun. a quiet chuckle escaped your lips as you shook your head, bemused by the realization. there was something about tonight that felt different, something about this moment, this new chapter, that made everything feel... significant.
with a final glance at your reflection, you straightened up, a soft smile tugging at the corners of your lips. you walked toward the door, each step a little more deliberate, a little more full of purpose. this wasn’t just a date. this was something else entirely.
when the door swung open and baekhyun saw you, his breath hitched, the air suddenly too thick to pull into his lungs. his gaze swept over you, deliberate and slow, as if his mind needed time to register every curve, every detail, every shimmer of the fabric that clung to you. his heart thundered in his chest, a wild rhythm he couldn’t control, and for a moment, all he could do was stare.
you were devastating. the dress—that dress—hugged you perfectly, its soft sheen catching the dim hallway light, every subtle movement making it seem alive, as though it had been designed for this exact moment. it was the same one you’d worn before, in a memory he kept locked away for years. back then, you’d twirled in front of him, laughing, your joy so infectious it had carved itself into his soul. seeing it again now, seeing you now, was almost too much.
but this wasn’t just a walk down memory lane. this wasn’t then. everything was different now—he was different, you were different. yet, somehow, that pull between you felt as raw and undeniable as it had the first time he’d laid eyes on you.
except now, you weren’t just the girl he’d loved with everything in him, the girl he’d lost, the girl he thought he’d never have again. you were minji’s mother. his daughter’s mother. and seeing you like this—so stunning it almost hurt—sent a new kind of longing through him. it wasn’t just want, though god, he wanted you. it was need, aching and all-consuming, a yearning that went far beyond physical desire. he needed to prove himself, to prove that he could be more for you, for minji. that this time, he wouldn’t let you slip away.
his hands twitched at his sides, desperate to reach for you, to touch, to hold, to pull you close enough to feel the warmth of your body against his. the temptation was staggering, nearly unbearable. his mind flickered with flashes of all the ways he wanted you—how it would feel to bury his face in your neck, to whisper promises against your skin, to hear you say his name like you used to.
but he held himself back, swallowing hard, locking it all down. not now. he couldn’t rush this. he couldn’t risk ruining it.
when his eyes met yours, his lips curved into the softest of smiles, one that didn’t quite mask the storm of emotions swirling beneath the surface. “you…” he paused, his voice catching before he found it again. “you look incredible.” the words came out low, steady, but there was no mistaking the weight behind them.
for a brief second, his eyes dropped back to the dress, his mind betraying him with an image of it lying forgotten on the floor, of you in his arms, of everything he was fighting to keep at bay. the thought made his chest tighten, and he let out a soft chuckle, as if to diffuse the tension he felt coiled so tightly within him.
but he didn’t move. not yet. instead, he let the moment stretch, imagining the day when he wouldn’t have to hold back, when he wouldn’t have to hesitate. when he could love you the way he wanted to—completely, without fear, without doubt, without restraint.

after dinner, the two of you strolled back to your place, the night humming with the warmth of shared laughter and lingering glances. the soft glow of streetlights cast a golden sheen over everything, making the world feel dreamlike, almost suspended in time. the wine coursing through your veins made the air lighter, the edges of reality softer, as though nothing truly mattered except the man walking beside you.
when you reached the door, your fingers fumbled with the keys, the metal slipping awkwardly in your grasp. you giggled, a sound so sweet it made baekhyun’s chest tighten. he stood behind you, his presence warm and steady, his hands gently finding their way to your waist. his touch was light, but it burned in the most delicious way.
“need a hand?” he asked, his voice low, teasing, his breath grazing your ear as he leaned closer.
you turned your head just slightly, your smile playful. “please,” you murmured, trying—and failing—to mask the way his closeness made your pulse quicken.
together, you managed to coax the door open, his hand guiding yours with a deliberate slowness that made you shiver. once inside, he closed the door behind him with a quiet click, the sound reverberating through the stillness of the space.
“nightcap?” you asked, your tone casual, though the mischief in your eyes betrayed you. your cheeks were warm, not just from the wine but from the way his gaze lingered, heavy and intent.
baekhyun didn’t answer right away. his eyes stayed locked on you, tracing the curve of your cheek, the way your lips curled into that familiar, teasing grin. his gaze dipped lower, lingering on the dress that clung to you like a second skin. that dress. the one he couldn’t stop thinking about all night, the one he wanted to peel off you with his teeth.
he swallowed hard, his jaw tightening as he fought to keep himself in check. the air between you thickened, crackling with an unspoken tension. he took a slow, deliberate step closer, the movement barely noticeable, but the way his eyes darkened said everything his lips couldn’t.
“yeah,” he finally murmured, his voice low, rough around the edges. “a nightcap sounds good.”
but it wasn’t the drink he wanted. no, the only thing he wanted was standing right in front of him, flushed and radiant, looking at him with eyes that could undo him in a heartbeat. every instinct screamed at him to close the space, to kiss you breathless, to pull you into him and never let go. but he didn’t. not yet. he was holding onto a thread of control, as thin and fragile as the air between you.
for now, he could wait. but god, you were making it impossible.
he could barely hold himself together, his self-control stretched thinner with each passing second. honestly, he deserved an award—no, a damn medal—for the composure he managed to keep throughout dinner. every moment was its own quiet war, every glance from you a calculated blow, every soft laugh a fatal shot to his already fragile defenses. your presence was a sweet, maddening intoxication, pulling him under in waves he couldn’t escape.
the way you looked at him—those eyes full of something gentle, something tender, something that felt like home—was almost his undoing. his fingers curled tightly against his thighs, his knuckles blanching as he fought the urge to reach for you. your smile, radiant and unguarded, had him aching in ways he thought he’d forgotten, stirring something raw and desperate in the pit of his stomach. and your voice—god, your voice—danced through the air, warm and melodic, like the first song he’d ever loved.
and then there were those moments when you looked at him, really looked at him. it was in the softness of your gaze, the way it lingered a second too long, the way it stripped him bare without a single word. it was as if you still saw him—truly saw him—the way you used to, back when you were his. that look, full of unspoken truths, clung to him like an echo, whispering things he didn’t dare hope for. you still love me. you still love me. the thought struck like lightning, leaving him dazed and breathless, his pulse thundering in his ears.
his chest tightened with the weight of it all—the yearning, the disbelief, the sheer impossibility of the moment. it was as though everything that had gone wrong, all the time that had stretched between you, suddenly dissolved, rendered meaningless in the face of this. it was just the two of you now, the world fading into a blurry background, holding its breath as if waiting for him to do what every fiber of his being screamed for: close the distance.
the need was relentless, searing through him like fire. his fingers twitched with the urge to touch you, to cradle your face in his hands and trace the contours of your cheek, to see if your skin still felt as soft as he remembered. his lips burned with the craving to kiss you, to taste the laughter that had tormented him all night, to claim the love he had been starving for since the day you walked away.
it had been almost four agonizing years since you left him behind, taking the light of his world with you. he thought he’d buried the pain, that he’d learned to live with the emptiness you left. but now, here you were, so close he could hear the rhythm of your breaths, feel the warmth radiating from your skin. and he realized with a clarity that stole the air from his lungs: none of that pain mattered anymore. not the silence, not the heartbreak, not the years. all that mattered was you—here, now, in front of him.
his breath hitched at the thought, and he found himself imagining what it would feel like when he finally kissed you again. his lips hovering just inches from yours, the space between you crackling with tension. he could already feel the pull, that same magnetic connection that had always been there, waiting for the moment he could touch you. and when their lips finally met, he knew—he knew—it would be just like before. that same sweetness, that same softness, the curve of your lips fitting perfectly against his, like you were always meant to belong to him.
no one had ever kissed him the way you did. no one else had ever left him breathless, drowning in the intensity of it, as if your kiss had the power to remake him. and god, he wanted it again. needed it.
he wanted you, wanted you so badly, the need pooling in his chest, a hot, tight ache he couldn’t ignore. he could already taste you, feel the warmth of your lips beneath his. he remembered how your kiss had once made him feel weightless, like he was falling into something beautiful, intoxicating. it was all he’d thought about the entire night.
and the way you looked now, that dress clinging to you like it had all those years ago, just made him ache even more. he couldn’t stop the images running through his mind—ripping it off of you, feeling your body pressed against his, tasting the sweetness of your kiss once again, just like he had done so many times before. the desire to feel you underneath him, to bury himself in the softness of you, was almost unbearable. he wanted it. he wanted you.
but instead, he nodded, swallowing the lump in his throat. “yeah,” he breathed, his voice thick with barely contained longing, “yeah, a nightcap sounds good.”
his fingers twitched, wanting nothing more than to touch you, but he held himself back, feeling the heat rise between you both, a tension so thick it was almost unbearable.
"here, let me pour the drinks for us," he murmured, his voice low and steady as he took your jacket and purse, hanging them with a quiet care on the coat rack.
you raised an eyebrow, teasing, "oh?" the corners of your lips twitched, fighting back a smile as you bit your bottom lip. your lashes fluttered lightly, casting delicate shadows across your cheeks as you met his gaze. "i’m just getting spoiled tonight, aren’t i?" you teased, the memory of how he'd practically wrestled the check from your hands earlier still fresh in your mind. it made you laugh softly, a sound that seemed to melt into the air.
but before you could say anything more, he was there, his hand coming up instinctively to cup your cheek. the warmth of his touch sent a shiver down your spine, his thumb brushing lightly against the softness of your skin, tracing the curve of your cheek, your chin, and finally resting just below your lower lip. his touch was so gentle, so deliberate, and yet it stirred something deeper inside you—a quiet yearning that you were both trying to contain.
you met his eyes, searching his face, knowing the unspoken truth before he even voiced it. you could see it—the way his gaze lingered, the way his breath hitched just slightly as he studied you. he wanted to kiss you. you could feel the tension rising, thick and palpable between you, but still, he held back, the weight of restraint pressing on him.
not wanting to push him, you offered him a sweet, reassuring smile, the kind that spoke of understanding without words. the sight of it seemed to stop him in his tracks, and his heart skipped a beat, his breath catching in his throat.
baekhyun’s lips curved into a playful smirk. “spoiled?” he echoed, leaning in just slightly, enough for his voice to drop a fraction, rich and smooth. “c’mon, bun, i’m sure you remember what me spoiling you really looks like.”
his words hit like a soft nudge to a locked door, memories rushing in before you could stop them. you remembered the way he used to spoil you relentlessly back in college, how his love language seemed to be written in lavish gifts and thoughtful gestures. designer handbags you could never justify buying for yourself, delicate jewelry that always seemed to match the sparkle in his eyes when he fastened the clasps himself.
he’d surprise you with new outfits for events you didn’t even know you’d be attending until he planned them—your wardrobe practically transformed by his generosity. every time the newest iphone dropped, he’d make sure it was in your hands within days, complete with a customized case he knew you’d love. he’d slip his card to waiters or store clerks before you could even think to pay.
and then there were the practical things, like covering your car payments or arranging maintenance before you even realized you needed it, his way of taking care of you without ever making you feel small for it. he never wanted you to stress, and you’d laugh at the absurdity of it all while secretly melting at the way he seemed to know what you needed before you did.
baekhyun had money. plenty of it. his family’s wealth wasn’t something he flaunted, but it was there, shaping the way he provided for you. your family wasn’t poor, but you didn’t have the same financial ease. you worked hard for the things you had, but baekhyun never made you feel less than, never made you uncomfortable about it. his quiet humility and the way he never flaunted his wealth made it all feel normal—money was never the issue. it was always about the love you shared.
you swallowed hard, heat creeping up your neck as you met his gaze again. his eyes were on you now, softer but still teasing, as if he could tell exactly where your thoughts had gone. “besides” he murmured, brushing a loose strand of hair from your face, his touch lingering just a moment longer than necessary. “i’m just making up for lost time. can you blame me?”

one glass turned into two, then three, each sip loosening the tension in the air, but also building something new between you, something heady and electric. laughter spilled from your lips, the sound light and careless, but underneath it, a growing warmth that neither of you could ignore. the night seemed to blur around the edges, the wine clouding your thoughts, making everything softer, more daring.
the bottles emptied one by one, their presence a witness to the hours that had melted away as you lingered in each other’s company. the glasses tipped over, forgotten, their contents pooling on the floor like spilled memories. it didn’t matter. nothing mattered except the way he looked at you—intensely, as if every part of him was drawn to you in a way that left him no choice but to pull you closer.
and then, he kissed you.
it was slow at first, almost tentative, like he was relearning the shape of your lips, the rhythm of your breath. but it didn’t stay that way for long. in an instant, the kiss deepened, the years of separation melting into a blur of heat and urgency. his hands found your waist, pulling you closer—closer, until you were climbing into his lap, your legs straddling him without hesitation.
his mouth was scorching, addictive, just like you remembered. it was the taste of him, rich like wine but unmistakably him—a flavor you thought you’d buried, but now you realized you could never forget. his kisses were messy, hungry, each one leaving you breathless as soft moans and breathless whimpers slipped between you. his hands roamed with purpose, sliding down to cup your ass, pulling you flush against him. his grip was firm, possessive, so achingly familiar that it made your head spin.
you felt the growing bulge beneath you, hard and urgent, straining against his pants. the pressure sent a sharp jolt of need straight to your core, igniting a fire you couldn’t ignore. warmth pooled between your legs, soaking you as your hips rocked instinctively against him. a deep, guttural groan escaped him, vibrating against your lips as you kissed him harder, hungrier.
“i missed you,” you breathed, the words tumbling from your lips as they traveled to the curve of his neck. you nipped at the sensitive skin below his ear, the spot you knew drove him wild. sure enough, a soft, desperate moan spilled from him, and you smiled against his skin, savoring the sound of him unraveling beneath you.
"i love you, bun," he whispered, his voice soft yet heavy with meaning, a tremor of raw emotion in every word. his gaze, unwavering and intense, locked onto yours, as if he could reach inside you with just a look. his lips brushed yours, so lightly it almost felt like a delicate promise. "i... i don’t think i ever stopped."
the words crashed into you, like a wave breaking against the shore, unexpected yet inevitable. your heart skipped, breath caught in your chest as the depth of his confession wrapped around you, pulling you under. "i love you, too, baekhyun," you breathed, your voice barely more than a whisper, but steady—anchored in the truth that had always been there, buried beneath the years of silence. "i never stopped."
and then, his lips were on yours again, and it was as if the world snapped back into place, the pieces aligning with the force of your shared confession. finally, it felt like home. like you were where you were always meant to be. your body responded instinctively, moving closer, desperate to feel the heat that had always simmered between you two. you ground against him, slow, deliberate, an aching need rising in you both. the friction between you sent jolts of electricity through your veins, a fire sparking to life as you felt him tense beneath you, his hands tightening on your hips.
for a brief moment, you thought he'd pull you in fully, lose himself in the moment as much as you were. but instead, his body went rigid, stilling beneath you as if every muscle had locked in place.
"wait—" his voice cracked, the sound thick with a dangerous mix of yearning and restraint. his hands stilled your movements, holding you in place. you could feel his chest rise and fall beneath you, shallow breaths betraying the storm inside him. "i don’t want to pressure you into anything you’re not ready for. i know we agreed to take things slow. i can wait."
his words cut through the haze of your desire, stopping you dead in your tracks. the sincerity in his eyes hit you like a tidal wave. he was holding back—for you.
for you.
the ache in your chest was sharp, but in the best possible way.
without saying a word, you reached down, sliding his hand beneath your dress, guiding him to where you were already burning. his breath caught when his fingers brushed against your bare skin. his eyes widened, shock crossing his features as he realized you weren’t wearing anything underneath.
"feel how wet you’ve made me?" you whispered, your lips grazing his ear, your voice low, sultry, teasing. the way his chest moves as his breathing becomes more deeper, heavier as if it’s taking everything in him not to put his fingers to work on that sloppy cunt of yours. you could feel his restraint fraying, and you couldn’t help but smile.
"still think i wanna take things slow?" you teased, your thumb tracing the curve of his bottom lip, urging him to act.
you could feel his body tremble under your touch, his hands shaking slightly as he adjusted, his fingers just barely grazing where you needed him most. the hunger in his eyes was almost unbearable, and you leaned in closer, brushing your lips over his jaw, waiting for him to break.
his composure shattered. his eyes fluttered shut as you brought his slick-coated fingers to your mouth, your tongue swirling around them slowly, deliberately. the taste of yourself on him was heady, and you sucked his fingers clean, the act sending a shiver down his spine.
“fuck,” he groaned, his voice thick with hunger. “ya sure about this, bun?” each syllable a desperate plea as his restraint teetered dangerously close to breaking.
you nodded, eyes wide and shimmering with a mix of innocence and promise. your lashes fluttered like the softest caress as you looked up at him, lips swollen and bruised from his fevered kisses, a delicate pout lingering on them. the sight of made his dick twitch. “always been sure when it comes to you, baek.”
the words hit him like a wave, and with a shuddering sigh, he couldn’t hold back anymore. his lips crashed against yours, possessive and hungry, claiming you as if he’d never get another chance. one arm wrapped around your head, fingers threading through your hair with a desperate need, while the other hand slid to your ass, squeezing it roughly. his grip tightened, a subtle warning, but you could feel the way his muscles strained, the raw tension in his touch. every press of his fingers into your skin felt like a brand, like he was marking you, anchoring himself to you. his touch was a blaze, a wildfire that scorched you in the best way, pulling you closer as if he couldn’t bear an inch of distance.
and then the world tilted.
with a surge of power and urgency, he lifted you without hesitation—strong, commanding, as though he was claiming you in the most primal of ways. a breathless gasp escaped your lips, the sound of surprise barely escaping before his hands cradled you, holding you as if you were made of something more fragile than glass. he held you with reverence, but there was an edge to it, a possessiveness that promised he would never let you go.
his breath is heavy against your neck, warm and uneven, betraying the restraint he’s barely holding onto. your body is pressed tightly to his chest, his heart pounding against yours, every beat echoing the unspoken promises that linger in the air. each step he takes toward your bedroom is deliberate, charged, as though the distance is unbearable, as if he can’t get you there fast enough.
"shit," he muttered, his voice rough and low as he lowered you onto the edge of your bed. the realization hit him like a tidal wave, cold and relentless, stealing his focus. his gaze flickered to yours, a storm of panic swirling in his eyes. “i didn’t bring any condoms. do you… do you have any?”
his question lingered in the air, heavy and unspoken, cutting deeper than the surface. the knot in his stomach tightened, the thought of someone else touching you during the time apart clawing at his insides. he hated the idea more than he cared to admit.
your laughter cut through the tension, soft but laced with something playful, a gentle ring that seemed to fill the space between you. "no, baek," you replied, your voice a breathless melody. "i haven’t had sex—well, any action, really—since you." the confession slipped out before you could stop it, and though a blush bloomed on your cheeks, you held his gaze. there was a flicker of vulnerability in your eyes, but it only made his heart race faster.
his breath hitched audibly, and for a moment, the world seemed to stop. his heartbeat thundered in his ears, his chest rising and falling with the weight of your words. “you’re serious?” he whispered, disbelief laced with something else—pride. his lips curved upward into a slow, cocky grin, the kind that made your stomach flip. the thought of you untouched by anyone else since him fed something primal, something possessive.
you nodded, your teeth sinking into your lip like you were weighing the impact of your words. embarrassment rushed to your neck, but it was quickly replaced by the heat of his stare. it burned through you, molten and unwavering, making your heart thrum harder with every passing second.
“fuck,” he rasped, the word almost guttural, like he couldn’t contain the surge of raw emotion. it was your turn to smile, a cocky glint lighting up your eyes. but when he spoke again, the weight of his confession hit you harder than you expected.
"i haven’t gone raw in anyone since you."
the words hung heavy in the air, suffocating with meaning. the way he said it, so casually, like it was a fact that only made sense in the world he had built around you, made your pulse spike. it was everything—the promise, the truth. your knees weakened at the depth of his gaze, molten like a fire you couldn’t escape.
"d’ya trust me, bun?" he whispered, voice low, the words slipping from his lips with a possessive kind of hunger.
you swallowed thickly, your breath coming out uneven, heart pounding in your throat. your pulse raced, and despite the weight of his question, you somehow found your voice, breathless and full of raw honesty.
“with my life.”
his lips curled into that signature, boyish grin that had always undone you, a glint of mischief dancing in his darkened eyes.
without hesitation, he closed the distance between you, his hands brushing the smooth, delicate skin of your arms before they drifted to the zipper at your back. in one seamless motion, his fingers tugged at the fabric, pulling your dress down with a fluid grace that seemed almost too effortless, as if he’d done it a thousand times before. the fabric slid off you like a memory, slipping to the floor as he guided you back onto the pillows, leaving you bare under the weight of his gaze.
his breath faltered as he drank you in, his eyes tracing every inch of your skin, the intensity of his hunger for you pressing against him like an ache that made his chest tighten. "god," he breathed out, the word barely escaping his lips as if he was speaking to himself more than to you, his hands gently exploring your exposed body like he was memorizing it, as though each touch could never be repeated.
but then it came—the surge of insecurity, creeping in from the edges of your mind like a dark cloud, unwelcome and cold. without thinking, you crossed your arms over your body, your hands instinctively covering the soft curves you’d learned to live with, but had never quite come to accept.
baekhyun saw it instantly. the shift in you, the way you tried to pull away, to hide. his expression softened, his gaze darkening with understanding as he stepped closer. his voice, low and steady, was a balm to your wounded confidence. “don’t you ever feel the need to hide from me,” he murmured, each word laced with an unspoken promise. his hands were gentle, yet firm, as he took hold of your wrists, slowly guiding them away from your body and placing them at your sides. the weight of his touch was reassuring, a silent command for you to trust him, to trust that he saw you—all of you—and that was all he wanted.
his touch was almost ethereal, like a whisper against your skin. his fingertips grazed the curve of your breasts, lingering just long enough to make your breath hitch. “bigger,” he murmured, the word thick with admiration, as if discovering something new about you—something he’d always known he wanted. his hands traveled lower, tracing the lines of your waist, feeling the soft expansion of your hips beneath his palms.
when his fingers brushed over the subtle stretch marks on your ass, a low, guttural groan escaped him, the sound vibrating through the air between you. his body tensed, his desire unmistakable, radiating off of him in waves. “god, you’re so beautiful,” he said, his gaze never leaving the soft, inviting shape of your body, as if memorizing every inch of you.
his hand drifted to your stomach, his finger moving with slow deliberation, drawing a path down the center of your abdomen, a slow, torturous line that set your nerves alight. “you’re gonna feel me,” he rasped, his voice husky, the words carrying a weight of promise. his thumb pressed gently into the sensitive skin just above your belly button, sending a shiver spiraling through your body. “right here,” he murmured, his eyes locking with yours—dark, smoldering, intense with intent.
the teasing, the way he looked at you like you were something precious, something intoxicating—it was too much. your hands clenched at the fabric of his shirt, tugging him closer, the need to feel him overwhelming. without a second thought, your lips crashed against his, urgent and desperate. the kiss was hungry, frantic, your mouths pressing against each other as you fumbled with the fabric of his clothes, your body burning for more.
his laugh rumbled against your lips, the sound low and rich as he pulled back just enough to smirk down at you. “eager, aren’t we?”
you didn’t miss a beat, your fingers working at his waistband as you bit back, “just wanna see if you still know how to fuck me properly.”
his laugh deepened, full and throaty, as he shoved his boxers down, freeing his throbbing cock. “glad to see that smart mouth of yours hasn’t changed, bun,” he said, his grin wicked. he leaned in, his lips brushing your ear as he added, “i’ma have fun puttin’ it to good use later.”
your breath hitched, your heart pounding in anticipation as he pressed closer, the weight of his words and his presence igniting every nerve in your body.
he positions himself at your entrance, and your breath catches in your throat, heart pounding so hard you can feel it echo in your ears. the heat radiating from him, the subtle brush of his skin against yours, sends a shiver rippling through your body. his tip, swollen and leaking, nudges against you, dragging slowly through your wetness, teasing with a precision that makes your toes curl.
he lingers at your entrance, just barely pressing in before retreating, spreading his precum and your slick together in a maddening rhythm. the sensation of his velvety tip gliding over your folds, grazing your clit, sends jolts of pleasure through your core. every deliberate movement feels like a silent taunt, a reminder of how much he’s savoring this moment—savoring you.
“baek, please,” you whimper, your voice trembling, desperate. your fingers clutch the sheets beneath you, nails digging in as if grounding yourself could somehow stave off the overwhelming need building inside you. tears prickle at the corners of your eyes, blurring your vision as the relentless teasing pushes you closer to the edge of begging.
his own restraint is fraying, evident in the way his breath hitches, the way his hands tremble slightly as they grip your hips. he leans down, his forehead resting against yours, his dark eyes smoldering with a mix of lust and longing. “oh— fffuuuccck, i missed you,” he groans, his voice strained, thick with emotion and need.
his words barely register before he begins to push in, his throbbing tip stretching you inch by agonizing inch. the sensation of him filling you—so warm, so familiar yet impossibly intense—forces a soft gasp from your lips. he exhales sharply, his jaw clenched, savoring every second, every sensation, as though this moment is the only thing that matters in the world.
baekhyun’s gaze flickers to your face, catching the faint wince that creases your features, gone as quickly as it came, but not quick enough to escape him. his brows knit together, his concern palpable, etched into the soft lines of his expression. he stays perfectly still, his body taut with restraint, as if afraid to move and hurt you. the stretch stings, yes, but there’s something deeper beneath it—a delicious burn that ignites every nerve, leaving you teetering on the edge of pain and pleasure.
“baby, you good?” his voice is low, soft, a husky murmur that wraps around you like the warmest comfort, his tone threading worry with tenderness, his concern a steady anchor in the haze between you. his dark eyes search yours, flickering with a mix of restraint and hunger, like he’s balancing on the precipice of losing control but refusing to let it happen until you’re ready.
you nod, though your breath catches, a sharp inhale that betrays the lingering ache as you will yourself to adjust. you shift your hips slightly, testing, feeling the stretch give way to something deeper, something raw that tugs at your core and sets your pulse hammering.
he groans, low and guttural, a sound dragged from the depths of his chest as he feels you take him in just a little more. his breath stutters, breaking like a thread pulled too tight, his hands flexing where they rest on your hips. the sharp ache dissolves into heat, into a magnetic pull you can’t resist. his reaction tells you he’s just as wrecked as you are, caught in the unbearable tension of holding back when everything about this moment demands he let go.
baekhyun’s exhale shudders, his head tipping back as his grip on your hips tightens just enough to remind you of his control. “fuck,” he rasps, the word rough and shaky, his voice carrying a mix of awe and restraint. “i missed the way you feel around me.”
his words send a ripple of heat through you, raw and unfiltered, a confession of just how much you’re undoing him. his fingers dig into your skin, grounding him, though his gaze never strays from yours. the tension coils tighter with every passing second, his dark eyes blazing with something possessive, something unrelenting, as though he’s holding back the storm brewing just beneath the surface.
your need burns hotter, desperation clawing its way to the forefront. “baekhyun—,” you beg, the words tumbling out before you can catch them. “please... just hurry up and fuck me.”
the plea comes out shaky, your voice trembling with want, and for a moment, you feel utterly exposed. but the effect on him is instant. his lips curl into a slow, wicked smile, his expression one of pure, devastating control as if that's all he needed to hear. “as you wish, sweetheart,” he grunts, his voice thick with promise and unrestrained desire.
his hands tighten their hold on your hips, strong and commanding, as he shifts his position. with a flex of his arms, he lifts you with effortless strength, your body rising until you can feel the head of his cock stretching you once more. the tension builds, unbearable and heady, before he slams you down onto him in one fluid motion.
the force of it steals the breath from your lungs, the intensity of him filling you completely, stretching you to your limit. the sound that escapes you is ragged, a cry of pleasure that seems to echo in the air between you. baekhyun’s growl rumbles low in his chest, primal and rough, as his hips meet yours, bottoming out with a precision that leaves you trembling.
his movements are deliberate yet feral, each thrust pushing you closer to the edge, his hands never leaving your body as if anchoring you to him. his need is palpable, pouring out in every motion, every flex of his muscles as he claims you with an intensity that sets every nerve ending alight.
“ya feel so fuckin’ perfect,” he groans against your skin, the words muffled but soaked in reverence as his lips press to your shoulder, your neck, anywhere he can reach. every motion, every sound, every touch pulls you deeper into him, blurring the lines between where you end and he begins.
he missed you. god, every inch of him missed you. it’s like his cock remembers every curve, every slick ridge of your walls, molding to him perfectly. and of course, he lets you know, his voice breaking into a string of desperate confessions. “f-fuck… m’sorry. ya squeezin’ me so tight. i think ‘m gonna cum soon hah– and ‘m gonna fuck it right back into this perfect—ngh—cunt.”
“hah—baek,” you whine, your voice trembling as you fully surrender to him. your body rocks helplessly in rhythm with his relentless thrusts, his cock plunging so deep it leaves you gasping. “s-so deep—hngh… can feel you here—” your hand snakes down, guiding his to press against your stomach, right where the swollen head of his cock is relentlessly hitting that devastatingly sweet spot.
his breath hitches, a low, disbelieving laugh huffing out as his fingers press into your skin. “fuck,” he groans, his eyes dark with lust, fixed on you, utterly wrecked beneath him. his hand is on top of the other as they press down over the slight bulge where he’s buried so deeply inside you. “feel that, baby? that’s me… stretching this pretty pussy out so good.”
his words send a fresh wave of heat coursing through you, and it’s too much—all of it, the weight of him, the filthy praise falling from his lips, the way his hands grip you like you’re something precious, even as he loses himself in you.
“baek—oh god!” your cry echoes through the room as your body shatters beneath him, the first orgasm of the night ripping through you with a force that leaves you trembling. his lips crash against yours, swallowing your desperate moans as his hand moves lower, fingers finding your clit in quick, precise circles. the overstimulation sends sparks shooting through your veins, the pleasure stretching, elongating, as he coaxes every last wave from you.
“that’s it—hah. cum for me angel,” he murmurs against your lips, his voice softening even as his hips keep their punishing rhythm, chasing his own release. “y'so perfect, baby. nngghh—so fuckin' perfect for me…and finally mine again.”
“been y-yours,” you hiss, dragging out the word as his crazed tip whacks itself against your sensitive spot. again, again, and again—he’s hitting against that same spot as if it were a target and he never misses. his frantic hits against your core causes your toes to curl and your back to arch even further as you’re slowly being brought closer to your orgasmic, teetering edge. “ffuuck! ‘m cumming again, baek, cumming.”
your release crashes over you like a tidal wave, sweeping you into a realm that feels like heaven itself. your body gives out beneath the intensity, collapsing back against the mattress as baekhyun hovers over you, his breath hot and heavy. his tongue trails a slick, wet path down the curve of your neck, his touch a sinful mix of reverence and hunger as you unravel completely beneath him.
baekhyun’s body is pressed flush against yours, his every movement slow yet calculated, like he’s savoring each second, each inch, as if the world might steal you away from him again. the heat of his skin seeps into yours, the sheer intensity in his dark, lidded eyes making it impossible to look away. his breath is ragged, the sound mingling with the soft gasps spilling from your lips, the two of you lost in a rhythm that feels as natural as breathing.
“please,” he rasps, his voice cracking, raw with emotion. his forehead presses to yours, the touch grounding and desperate as he sinks deeper, his hips stuttering like the closeness of you is too much, too overwhelming to contain. “please, don’t fuckin’ leave me again.”
his words linger, heavy and aching, filling the space between you with the weight of every unspoken hurt, every moment lost. his fingers tighten on your hips, digging into your skin as though the feel of you beneath him is the only thing tethering him to reality. his thrusts grow erratic, uneven, each movement betraying the fragility of his control.
“nggghh—i think...” his voice falters, a low groan spilling from his lips as he buries his face into the curve of your neck. his mouth grazes your skin, reverent, desperate, the ghost of his breath hot and trembling against you. “i think i’ll die if you do. god, i can’t—i can’t spend another fuckin’ day without you.”
your heart clenches painfully, his vulnerability cutting straight through you like a blade. his body trembles against yours, every inch of him straining to keep you close, to pour everything he feels into the spaces between you. your fingers find their way into his hair, threading through the damp strands as you tug gently, coaxing him to meet your gaze.
his eyes lift, dark and glassy, brimming with emotion so unguarded it threatens to undo you. devotion, fear, yearning—they’re all there, laid bare and unfiltered.
“baekhyun,” you whisper, your voice a delicate tremor, barely audible over the shared gasps of breath between you. your hands cradle his face, fingertips brushing over the damp strands of his hair as if trying to ground him, to ground yourself, in this fragile, fleeting moment. “’m not going anywhere. i’m here... i’m yours. we’re yours.”
his breath catches, shuddering under the weight of your words, and a sound—fragile, broken—escapes him. he surges forward, pulling you closer, deeper, until it feels like he’s trying to fuse your souls together, to erase every inch of space between you. his thrusts are slower now, deliberate, every roll of his hips steeped in something more than desire—something raw and sacred, like a plea, a promise, an apology all at once.
your body arches into his, a guttural whine ripping from your throat as his cock pulses within your walls, stretching, filling, consuming. your muscles clench around him, your body dragging him deeper into your heat, and his control shatters like glass.
“f-fuckin’ shit,” he growls through gritted teeth, his hips jerking erratically as he spills into you, heat blooming deep inside, marking you in every sense of the word. the intensity steals the breath from your lungs, and as the waves of pleasure crash over you, pulling you under, your release spirals into his, the two of you breaking apart and piecing yourselves back together in the same breath.
his lips find yours, the kiss frantic and messy, a collision of tongues and teeth as if he’s trying to reclaim the time you spent apart. every ragged moan, every whispered curse and gasp fills the room, the air thick with the symphony of your shared need. the world outside fades, leaving only the two of you—entangled, desperate, and utterly consumed by the moment.
it’s not just lust, not just longing—it’s everything. years of heartache, love, and an aching, unrelenting need poured into every kiss, every thrust, every whispered vow that promises you’ll never leave each other again.
your walls clench around him again, coaxing more from him, and he groans deeply, his arms looping around your waist to anchor you to him. his grip is firm, almost desperate, holding your trembling hips in place as his thick, creamy release paints your insides. it’s obscene, the way it trickles down your shaking thighs, a messy, lewd reminder of everything he’s giving you. but baekhyun doesn’t stop—not yet. his hips slow, but only slightly, rolling into you with a lazy, unrelenting rhythm as if determined to fuck every drop back into you.
it’s filthy, yes, but there’s something almost tender in the way his lips brush against yours again, his deep moans muffled as his movements grow languid, sweet in their intensity. he nips at your bottom lip, his voice a teasing rasp when he finally pulls back just enough to speak, his forehead pressed to yours.
"how ’bout we give minji a sibling, huh?" the words spill from him, low and teasing, yet dripping with intent, his hips punctuating the question with a deliberate thrust that has you crying out.
your brain short-circuits, the world spinning as his cock drags against your sensitive walls. your head nods before you can even process his words, a frantic, needy motion as your body betrays just how utterly drunk you are on him. thinking straight? impossible. all you can manage is a breathless, choked moan of agreement, your fingers digging into his back as he continues to work you into oblivion."yeah?" your voice trembles, still riding the waves of your last high. "well, we’ve got all night to try."

the morning sun filtered softly through the trees as you stood at your front door, your body still humming with the afterglow of the night before. baekhyun’s car had just turned the corner, leaving behind the faint scent of his cologne and the weight of his goodbye kiss still lingering on your lips. you smiled to yourself, the memory of his warm hands on your waist and the way he’d looked at you all night filling you with a quiet joy.
but then your thoughts shifted, and a familiar ache settled in your chest. you glanced to your left, to chanyeol’s house, where your daughter, minji, was probably still fast asleep. you wondered when you should go pick her up, already missing the sound of her giggles and the way she always ran to you with open arms.
your gaze lingered on his house, warm affection for your daughter mingling with a twinge of guilt. chanyeol had been nothing but kind—stepping in to watch minji overnight so you and baekhyun could have this time together. but as your eyes traced the windows, movement caught your attention.
the curtain in the living room fluttered, a shadow shifting behind it before it was quickly pulled shut. the abruptness of the action made your heart sink. someone had been watching. you didn’t need to guess who.
your stomach twisted as the realization hit you. chanyeol.
the look on his face from last night flashed through your mind—the way his mouth had tightened, his expression faltering when you’d casually mentioned your plans with baekhyun. you’d tried to soften the blow, telling him you were "taking things slow," but now those words felt hollow, like a broken promise.
slow? the sight of you outside your front door in baekhyun’s shirt, kissing him goodbye, told a different story.
the weight of the moment pressed on you, guilt pooling heavy in your chest. chanyeol didn’t deserve this. he didn’t deserve to see this, to piece together the night you’d spent with baekhyun and feel whatever it was you knew he must be feeling.
for a second, you thought about knocking on his door, about saying something—anything—that might ease the tension now crackling in the air between your homes. but instead, you swallowed hard, forcing yourself to step inside your own door. maybe it was better this way, to let the moment settle, to deal with the aftermath later when your thoughts were clearer.
but as you shut the door behind you, your phone buzzed in your pocket.
chanyeol:
hey, can we talk?
a sigh escapes your lips, the guilt in your chest an ache that refuses to fade. you were already bracing for this conversation, knowing it had to happen, knowing you owed him this clarity. more than that, you still wanted him in your life—him and nari both. they had become such an integral part of your and minji's world, their presence a steady anchor in the chaos. you had to make sure he understood that.
your thumbs hover over the screen, the words forming before you can second-guess them.
yeah, i think we should, yeol.

chanyeol sits on the couch beside you, though the space between you feels like a canyon. it’s a noticeable difference from how he used to sit, closer, as if the world wasn’t big enough to separate the two of you.
he brought minji home a few minutes ago, fast asleep against his shoulder, her cheek pressed to him in the way only a child could manage, soft and unguarded. her little mouth hung open, a whisper of snores escaping as if the world around her didn’t exist. she’d been worn out from a full morning playing with his sister’s kids and nari, her tiny form so peaceful it made your heart ache. you’d both had quietly tucked her into bed together. and now here you were, back in the living room, perched on the edge of an unspoken conversation.
his sister had stopped by his place earlier this morning, her kids in tow for a chaotic playdate with nari and minji. she’d agreed to watch nari while chanyeol brought minji back home and you and him have this talk, though he’d been vague about why he needed the time. what was he supposed to say? “i’m going next door to talk to the girl i’ve been madly crushing on for over a year about seeing her kiss her ex-boyfriend and baby daddy and now i don’t know where i stand.” no. too messy. too raw. too much.
his jaw tightens, a small movement you barely catch out of the corner of your eye. the weight of his presence feels like it’s pressing against your chest, suffocating and grounding all at once. you glance at him, then quickly look away, unsure of how to start this conversation. unsure if you even can.
the silence between you stretches, awkward and heavy. you try to fill it with small talk, your voice soft. “how was minji last night?”
he glances at you, a smile tugging at his lips, though it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. there’s something pained in his expression, something restrained. “she was great. she always is.”
you smile faintly, but it fades as guilt bubbles in your chest. “look, chanyeol,” you start, your voice tentative, “i’m sorry for what you saw this morning. it probably didn’t make me look like ‘mother of the year.’” you pause, exhaling slowly. “i know i said baekhyun and i were going to take things slow, but… one thing led to another, and—”
“stop,” he interrupts, his voice sharp but not unkind. his hand comes up, almost reflexively, as if to shield himself from your words. he winces, and you know it’s because he’s picturing it—baekhyun’s hands on you, his lips on yours. where chanyeol wishes his own could be.
his shoulders slump as he exhales, the tension in his body evident. his face is a mosaic of emotions—hurt, frustration, resignation. “i don’t think i want to hear the details… about what happened with you and baekhyun.”
the air grows heavier, his words filling the space between you. for a moment, neither of you speaks. then, he sighs again, his voice quieter this time, softer. “i just came to say that i get it.”
you blink, caught off guard. “you do?”
he nods, his gaze falling to his hands, which rest loosely in his lap. “yeah,” he says, the word heavy with a weight he’s carried for longer than you probably realize. “i always knew your heart was still with him. filled with him. i thought that maybe, over time, with me… and nari… we—i—would fill it instead.” his voice cracks slightly, and he clears his throat, forcing himself to go on. “but then he came along. and even then, i was still foolish enough to believe i had a chance.”
your heart clenches, the rawness in his voice cutting deeper than any accusation ever could.
he looks up at you, his eyes earnest despite the ache swimming in them. “but i just want you to know… don’t feel guilty. about this. about me. nari and i—we’ll still be here for you and minji. always.”
his words hit you like a wave, and you’re left staring at him, your chest tight and your throat dry. there’s no anger in his voice, no bitterness, just an overwhelming sense of loss and quiet acceptance.
and somehow, that hurts even more.
you open your mouth, but no words come out. what can you possibly say to that? to a man who has just stripped himself bare, laying his feelings and heartbreak at your feet without a hint of resentment? guilt swirls in your stomach, heavy and unrelenting, but beneath it is something softer—gratitude.
“chanyeol,” you finally manage, your voice quiet, shaky. “i… i don’t even know where to start.” you tuck a strand of hair behind your ear, a nervous habit you’ve had for as long as you can remember. “i never meant to hurt you. i swear, i didn’t.”
his smile is small, sad, and fleeting. “i know.”
“you mean so much to me,” you continue, your voice gaining strength. “and not just because you’ve been so good to minji and me, but because you’re… you’re you. you’ve been a constant in our lives when everything else felt so uncertain.”
his gaze flickers to yours, and the weight of his emotions is almost too much to bear.
“but,” you add, hesitating because the truth feels like a betrayal, “i can’t lie to you. when baekhyun came back, it stirred up so much that i thought i’d buried. i thought i’d moved on, but… seeing him again…” you trail off, unsure how to finish without twisting the knife further.
“i get it,” he says softly, sparing you the need to say more.
“i don’t deserve you,” you whisper, shaking your head. “you’ve been nothing but kind and patient, and i hate that i’ve put you in this position. but… thank you. for everything. for understanding, for being here, for—”
“don’t,” he cuts you off gently, his voice firm but kind. “don’t thank me like this is the end of something. nari and minji are still best friends, and i’m not going anywhere. you don’t get rid of me that easily.”
his attempt at humor coaxes a faint smile from you, though the tears welling in your eyes threaten to spill over. “you’re too good, you know that?”
he shrugs, the corner of his mouth twitching upward in something that’s almost a smile. “or maybe i just have bad timing.”
you both fall silent again, the unspoken understanding settling between you like a fragile truce. you want to hug him, to thank him properly, but you know it’s not what he needs right now. instead, you place a hand on his, squeezing it gently.
“i’m sorry,” you say again, your voice barely above a whisper.
he squeezes back, his touch warm despite the distance he’s trying to keep. “me too.”
and with that, the moment shifts, leaving behind a bittersweet ache that doesn’t feel quite like an ending but more like an understanding—a quiet closure to what could have been. as chanyeol stands to leave, his hand moves instinctively, gently cupping your chin. his thumb grazes the soft curve of it, a gesture so intimately familiar it almost feels like a promise.
his eyes meet yours, but this time, there’s no playful glint, no trace of hope lingering there. instead, his gaze is calm, tinged with a bittersweet acceptance that sits heavy in the space between you. his lips pull into a small, wistful smile—warm enough to remind you of the connection you once shared but tempered by the reality that things have changed.
“we’ll be okay,” he says softly, the weight of his words lingering in the air. “nari and i… we’ll always be here for you and minji. that doesn’t change.”
his voice is steady, not heavy with regret but grounded in the knowledge that some paths aren’t meant to intertwine the way he might have once hoped. and as he steps back, the warmth of his touch fades, but not in a way that feels cold or distant.
instead, it feels like understanding.
he hesitates for a moment, the faintest flicker of something unreadable crossing his face, but then he nods slightly, his smile growing just enough to feel reassuring. “see you around, yeah?”
“yeah,” you manage, your voice soft but steady.
with that, he turns and walks out the door—not leaving behind a void, but rather a quiet sense of peace. the kind of peace that comes with knowing some connections will always remain, even if they’ve shifted into something new.

baekhyun had started staying over on weekends. it had been his idea initially, a way to make up for the years he missed with minji—but somewhere along the way, it became about more than that. your relationship with him had been blossoming, as if no time had been lost.
the nights you spent together felt like a rediscovery of who you both were, a bittersweet journey through what was and what could be. after minji would fall asleep, the two of you would sit on the couch, sharing stories from the years apart. his late-night shifts at the hospital during his program, your struggles navigating motherhood alone, the little triumphs and heartbreaks in between.
what surprised you most was how much had stayed the same. you still had the same taste in music, still argued playfully over which movie to watch. even the new interests you’d each picked up fit together seamlessly—baekhyun teasing you about your new baking obsession while you mocked his newfound love for photography.
it was during one of those weekends, after a long day spent at the park with minji, that things shifted. the house was quiet, save for the soft hum of the night outside. minji had gone to bed hours ago, worn out from a day of running around, and now you lay tangled in the sheets with baekhyun, your skin still warm from the closeness you’d just shared.
his arm draped lazily over your waist, fingers tracing absentminded patterns on your skin. “i’ve been thinking,” he murmured, his voice soft but serious.
you turned to face him, your cheek brushing against his bare chest. “about what?”
“about telling her,” he said, his hand stilling on your side. “minji. that i’m her dad.”
you blinked up at him, the words settling heavily in the air between you. it wasn’t the first time the thought had crossed your mind, but hearing him say it made it feel... real.
“you think she’s ready?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.
he nodded slowly, his dark eyes meeting yours. “she’s smart, you know? she already knows there’s something different about the way i am with her. and with you.” his lips quirked into a small smile. “plus, i want her to know. i want her to know how much i love her. how much i love... this.”
your breath hitched, his words wrapping around your heart like a warm embrace. “you really think now’s the time?”
baekhyun shifted, propping himself up on one elbow so he could look down at you. “i do. but only if you’re ready, too.”
you bit your lip, the weight of the decision pressing down on you. but as you thought about how minji had been bonding with baekhyun—her laughter during their tickle fights, the way she lit up every time he walked into the room—you realized he was right. she deserved to know.
“okay,” you whispered, your fingers reaching up to brush a stray lock of hair from his face. “let’s tell her.”
he leaned down, pressing a kiss to your forehead, his voice a gentle promise. “thank you. for letting me be here. for giving me this chance.”
the following day, during lunch, you sat minji down. the late afternoon sun poured into the kitchen, casting soft golden streaks across the table where you, baekhyun, and minji sat. the aroma of grilled cheese sandwiches and tomato soup lingered in the air, a comfort meal chosen carefully for this important day.
minji swung her little legs under the chair, humming a tune in between bites, blissfully unaware of the weight of the moment looming.
you glanced at baekhyun, his fingers tapping lightly against the edge of his bowl—a nervous tell he couldn’t quite hide. catching your eye, he gave you a small nod. it was time.
“minji,” you began gently, setting your spoon down and leaning forward. her big eyes flicked up to you, still chewing, her cheeks puffed out like a little chipmunk.
“mommy and i want to talk to you about something important,” baekhyun added, his voice warm but tinged with a nervous edge.
minji blinked, tilting her head curiously. “what is it?”
you took a deep breath, reaching for her tiny hand across the table. “you know how you’ve been spending a lot of time with baekhyun lately? going to the park, playing games, having fun?”
she nodded enthusiastically, a grin spreading across her face. “yeah! he’s so fun! and he’s really good at hide-and-seek!”
baekhyun chuckled softly, his fingers brushing through his hair. “well, there’s a reason we’ve been spending so much time together, minji,” he said, his voice tender. “it’s because i’m your dad.”
the room went quiet for a moment as her little brain worked to process the words. her eyes flicked between you and baekhyun, her brow furrowing slightly. “my... dad?”
you squeezed her hand gently. “yes, sweetheart. baekhyun is your dad. he loves you very much and wants to be in your life, just like mommy is.”
minji’s lips pressed together in a thoughtful pout. then, she looked at baekhyun, her small voice filled with curiosity. “are you gonna stay forever?”
his breath hitched, and you could see the emotion pooling in his eyes. he leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table to meet her at eye level. “yes, minji. i promise i’m not going anywhere. i want to be here for you, always.”
she studied him for a moment, then turned to you. “is that okay, mommy?”
your throat tightened at the question, the innocence of her trust nearly breaking you. you nodded quickly, brushing a hand through her soft hair. “of course, bun. it’s more than okay.”
a beat passed, and then her face lit up with a smile that could rival the sun. “so... does this mean i can call you daddy?”
baekhyun laughed, his voice shaky but filled with relief. “only if you want to, bunny.”
without hesitation, she slid off her chair and ran to him, wrapping her tiny arms around his waist. “hi, daddy.”
baekhyun’s arms enveloped her instantly, holding her like she was the most precious thing in the world. his eyes met yours over her head, glistening with unshed tears and a gratitude too deep for words.
in that moment, you knew everything would be okay. your little family had found its way back together.

˗ˏˋ ꒰ a/n ꒱ ˎˊ˗ omg k first of all, i’m so, so, sooooo sorry it took me forever to finish this fic 😭😭😭 i really wanted to try something new with this one. more angsty vibes, some slow-burn, and some juicy subplots to keep it interesting hehe :') instead of my usual "plot? what plot? oh wait, you mean porn" approach (which ofc the next like 4 fics are definitely giving that lmfao) ANYWAAAYYYY, i hope you enjoyed it!! <3 as always lmk ur thoughts <3 <3 (unless you hated it or thought it was mid...then pls...keep it to urself because i am a fragile lil bnuy n will cry 😭🤚🏼) k that's all bye love you guys!!!! ૮ ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶ ა 💖


ଘ(੭ˊᵕˋ)੭* masterlist ° ᡣ𐭩 .
#baekhyun smut#baekhyun fic#baekhyun x reader#exo smut#exo x reader#baekhyun angst#exo angst#my tears are real
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Okay this ticks all the boxes: angst, fluff, and smut. BUT oh how it rides the angst train so beautifully. I cried so much off and on and istg San might be a new bias. 10/10 gonna reread and cry in the car again
we can't be friends (CS x reader).
San is your first love. He broke your heart and played with your feelings without even kissing you back when you two were in highschool. Now, many years later, you do your best to avoid crossing paths with him because there's just no way you could ever hate him, but there's also no way you two can be friends again. But his best friend is also one of your best friends, so there's only so much you can do to avoid San when he arranges a dinner you're forced to go to.
PAIRING: first love!choi san x afab reader.
GENRE: one shot (fluff, angst, smut)
WORD COUNT: 20k (yikes).
WARNINGS: SMUT ☽ (MINORS DNI) attempt !!! at comedy, unnecesary pinning, a looot of context, bad friends :(, some arguing, tension, drinking and drunk behavior, tears, making out, description of female anatomy, oral (f reciving), fingering, love making, pet names (babe, baby), flirty seonghwa, wooyoung being a little shit again but also a genius, gyuri almost commiting a crime.
NOTES: hi everyone! this is a lenghty one, i know, but trust me when I say the context is necessary to understand what reader goes through with san. also, some of this may or may not have happened to me (have fun figuring out which part) (it's quite obvious tbh). THIS IS PART OF THE SHOW AND TELL UNIVERSE BUT CAN BE READ AS A STAND ALONE, even though there's some references and characters that you can only know if you read s&t lol. this is 100% self indulgent, as all fics should be, and i think i've re-read it so many times that if you find a typo or something that just doesn't make sense, you can blame it on english not being my first language i guess lmao. i hope you enjoy it and if you do feel free to send/reblog/type in any feedback or thoughts! <3
POSTED: august 06 2024.
permanent taglist: @hotteokkay, @potatomountain, @fairylover68
masterlist.
You and Choi San go way back.
Well, it's nine years way back? You were only fourteen when you first saw him.
He moved back to your area of the city a year after you moved from an entirely different one. You thought you knew every school secret there ever was, provided by your new best friend, Gyuri, but she didn't tell you about him at all.
She claimed that it was because he didn't cause any stir the years they studied together before and after spending a whole first period in your eighth grade classroom with him at the back of the class, silently taking notes, you couldn't phantom why.
He was great at every subject, seemed to have a lot of popular friends and was, overall, a pretty nice guy. He was also very cute, skinny but you could tell he was the kind of guy who played a sport outside of school hours and he had a cute pair of dimples that showed everytime you scanned the classroom just to lay eyes on him.
Choi San was a perfect boy to crush on, even a perfect guy just to have as eye candy during recess. You felt really strongly about him, not really forming a full opinion although your gut told you right away you were right. There was something about him… but you only figured that something until later, next year, starting your ninth grade.
Gyuri and you were avid readers. Precocious girls, with minds way above your age. All your teachers praised came laced with the same compliment so you both decided that was the truth. You rejoiced in it, thinking you shared things in common with the grown ups and decided that that was the key to feeling a little superior in comparison to the rest of your classmates, who neither of you liked very much.
Until they all decided to start dating each other and you two realized you were nothing but two kids with great imaginations and a love for school, praise and fictional men that couldn't be translated to the real world without sounding delusional and weird.
So you decided to do something about it. And so, on a random Tuesday recess, you two scanned the crowd trying to find two boys (or a boy and a girl, because you always knew you liked girls too) worthy of your affections. One for her, one for you. Bonus points if the two of them were also best friends, of course.
Double dates were all the buzz at the time anyways.
Besides, only then they could understand the bond you and Gyuri had. Sisterhood like no other, nevermind Gyuri actually had an older sister and a niece at the ripe age of fifteen.
And so when your index finger scanned the crowd and eliminated at least three potential crushes before landing on Choi San, you felt like it was meant to be.
You see, his best friend, Jung Wooyoung, was perfect for Gyuri to crush on. He was almost as tall as she was at the time and his easy, outgoing personality was compatible with her book crush at the time as well.
He also flirted with her on several occasions before that.
So it was meant to be.
Choi San, on the other hand, had never even glanced in your direction before.
Just like your book crush did before he fell in love with the main character.
See? Meant. To. Be.
It was decided then that, although Choi San was not going to be your first crush ever, he was going to be the guy that motivated you to be at school for the time being, because math gets really boring after trying and failing at least ten times.
You thought nothing of it when it felt a little forced, when you couldn't blush at all at the sight of him and you gathered that it didn't need to happen like in the books you read. You simply needed to say his name when someone asked you if you had a crush on anyone and that was enough to be in symphony with the rest of your classmates.
Your longing glances were caught once or twice by him and you brushed the weird flip your stomach did everytime he looked away, blushing a little. You never really cared when it happened, really, knowing his crowd and your crowd (Gyuri and you) would never even cross paths in the first place.
You two kept to yourselves and your little book unofficial book club, sitting on the floor at lunch time and cursing everyone who dared to call you weird for it. San and Wooyoung had a crowd of people at the loudest table laughing with them over stupid teen jokes and, uh, sports? You didn't even know.
And then the unimaginable happened.
Jung Wooyoung sat down, criss cross applesauce and everything, in front of you on a random Monday afternoon while you and Gyuri discussed the english assignment due next period.
Gyuri was not too excited about that.
Turns out, the only one excited to have a crush at school was you. She was very much still in the Lonely Hearts Club phase while you skipped all the way to your The Notebook phase and she was, in her own words, too afraid to admit it when you came up with your crush plan.
You forgave her, of course, and decided to wait for her as long as needed because you were certainly not about to be an individual and have a crush on your own.
And by the time Wooyoung smiled at you both and introduced himself to you, like you weren't in the same class for a year already, you thought your pretend crush on his best friend evaporated and joined the void superficial and fleeting interests you had.
But then Choi San sat beside him, his knee brushing against yours in the process, and you knew you would have to issue a formal apology to your best and only friend for leaving her behind on this little thing.
Because, oh boy, were you crushing on Choi San.
You felt the blush rush to your cheeks and then fell silent while your friend and his friend discussed Fifty Shades of Grey for some reason you never cared enough to discover and you knew you were done for.
It was the first time seeing his dimples in full action, so close to you, so you completely stopped functioning all together. Amazing.
When you decided to have a crush, you never took into account that you were, actually, quite shy. And he really wasn't, but you noticed that he knew when to talk and what to say and with your friend being a lot more outgoing that you were it gave you the comfort that she would speak for the both of you while you admired from the sidelines as your little duo became a group of friends you still miss deeply to this day.
He was funny and you laughed at your jokes even though you pretended to be tired and completely worn out by the school day, resting your head on Gyuri’s shoulder and stealing glances at the boy while she kept arguing with his best friend.
Wooyoung was popular and liked enough to have a few people sit with you later that week, people who never even knew you existed before that. They were good friends with San as well, so you tried your best to keep up with everyone until she sat down next to you one day.
Arin was not really a bad person. She just was a bit conceited, calling herself princess type of conceited and you never really related to her even if she was nice to you to your face. She was absolutely gorgeous and, you found out with Wooyoung’s arm around your shoulder and a whisper to your ear, she had been San’s crush since they were both in elementary school.
That would explain the sudden tension at the table when she sat down next to you, said hello to everyone, offered you a sweet she just bought from the cafeteria, and stared at San for the remainder of lunch time.
You also noticed Wooyoung glaring at her a little and he later explained to you that he didn't really like her all that much. She loved attention and San gave her attention, so she would intentionally flirt with him to get her ego stroked in return.
It didn't really matter how he felt about the girl, though, he didn't have to like her just because his best friend did. And when you caught her batting her eyelashes at San, you knew you didn't even stand a chance.
You tried to hide the disappointed look on your face but both Gyuri and Wooyoung looked at you while the two of them flirted endlessly for the remainder of lunch time and you figured you were doing a pretty shitty job at it. He didn't glance at you once either way, so it didn't really matter.
Arin did but she just complimented your eyes and then started a conversation with someone across the table, her annoying sweet and fake voice making your right ear ring in disapproval.
Either way, you ended up becoming her friend. Gyuri was not very fond of her and neither were you, but you all went to the bathroom together, did your makeup together, did school projects together and then sat everyday at lunch together with the rest of the guys who were, in one way or another, trying to get her to like them.
Because, once again, she was a sight for sore eyes.
It wasn't until later, in the middle of the year, that one of them did. Not Choi San, but Choi Yeonjun.
You remember the day you found out they were together and the gut wrenching concern you felt when you found out that San was not at school that day.
It was after summer break, you remember Wooyoung telling you that San and his family took a few more days of vacation and if you couldn't believe your eyes when you saw the new couple sharing a sweet kiss at the designated lunch table, you could only imagine how San felt the next day when he saw the same image right in front of him.
Yeonjun was his friend, right? He knew about his crush and decided to get together with her anyways. Surely, San was devastated.
But he wasn't. He just cheered them on and then laughed along when Yeonjun shoved his arm playfully after the hollering.
But you saw through it.
Your crush on San made you observant. Made you believe you knew him better than everyone else and so, after lunch, you took out your phone and pulled up the notes app. Writing a simple “are you okay?” in it and passing it to him the next second, you were surprised with yourself before you saw him frown a bit. And then he understood what you meant.
Nodding, he passed you the phone back, before giving you a reassuring smile that you treasured in your heart and saw in your dreams.
You didn't believe him, though, but stayed close enough to everything related to the situation to hold Arin in your arms when Yeonjun inevitably broke her heart.
Starting your tenth year, he moved back to his city and decided to play the I thought we weren't even that serious card on her. Which was nasty, considering love it's very, very serious for a sixteen year old girl.
By this point, you were all a little family and hanging out after school and on the weekends was not unusual, so it didn't surprise you when Arin invited you, and only you, to her house after choir practice on a Thursday.
She lent you her older sister’s clothes to wear (because her's would never fit you. Her words, not yours) and took you to a walk in the park just to break your heart for the first time ever.
“You know… I thought love was something I couldn't find in highschool anymore. But San it's really making an effort, you know? He's been there for me ever since Yeonjun left and… Well, I think he's going to ask me to be his girlfriend tomorrow.”
Grasping the park bench she forced you to sit at, you only nodded and let out a shuddering breath that gave away what she was trying to figure out since earlier that day.
“I'll say yes but only if you say it's okay to do so.”
Arin was not really your friend, the same way Yeonjun was not really San’s friend.
Because there's no way you would ever be okay with it.
And yet, you tried your best to give her a smile and pretend the sound of your heart breaking didn't bring tears to your eyes “Of course it's okay. Why wouldn't it be?”
A week later, they were officially dating. The rumors spread around like a wildfire and it took out of you with everyone calling San a nasty rebound and you doing your best to prioritize the ghost of the friendship you had with him. That whole fiasco lasted a few months.
Months in which your friendship with everyone just grew stronger. Gyuri was still your best friend, Wooyoung was crushing on her hard and everyone knew, Arin and San were a steady couple, a new girl joined your class that year, named Yeri, and the principal assigned her to you because she thought you two would get along really well.
“I like girls,” was like, the third thing she ever told you while you were showing her the school “I'm just telling you now because I don't plan on hiding it and you are wearing a pride pin.”
“Oh, that's cool. I like girls too,” you smiled, looking at your pride pin “I didn't hide it either and no one gave me shit about it, so, don't worry.”
Yeri also liked the mainstream music that you liked and soon she became a new addition to your group. And with Arin spending all of her free time with San, you, Gyuri and Yeri only grew closer and closer. You didn't have Arin’s voice in your ear telling you the million reasons she found Yeri uncool, but you saw it in her face every time the table laughed at one of Yeri’s jokes.
And so, it went on for a while:
Your mom driving all of you around in her car to the beach, to dinner, to the movies and letting you have mixed sleepovers at your house (meaning you, Arin, Gyuri, Wooyoung, Yeri and San) was fun and all, but it was not enough to distract yourself entirely. Everytime you glanced at the couple, that sinking feeling in your chest would appear and sulk your whole mood for, at least, fifteen minutes.
Fifteen minutes of pretending you were okay with them before forgetting completely for an hour or so and then the cycle would repeat until you were alone staring at the ceiling and doing your best to not cry about it.
All it took was your first kiss being Yeri of all people for you to decide that it was time to retire your crush for Choi San once and for all.
And for a while, it all went according to plan. You decided to tell Gyuri that it was okay because he was your friend first and the guy that you liked second and that you were not fourteen and desperate for love anymore, that it was time to go on with your life as if nothing really happened in the first place.
You were hooking up with Yeri anyways, so it seemed like you were doing just fine.
You grew closer to San as well and even though he mostly talked to you about Arin and whatever tantrum she was throwing at the time, you really started to feel some sense of normalcy within you when it came to just speaking to him.
You no longer blushed when he made you laugh, you no longer looked at him with the longing of a past life lover and you were really happy for him because, at the end of the day, he was really happy with his relationship.
Until winter break came around and Arin decided to give San his first heartbreak ever.
She decided to call for a break in their relationship because she was, in his words, too overwhelmed with the amount of love and attention she was getting from him.
Which was completely fucking insane considering the fact she forced him to save her contact as Princess Arin and all.
So naturally, you sided with him. And she didn't take it to heart because everyone knew you liked San anyways.
She told you the news herself through Facebook after asking you to explain to her the English assignment due next day and then she decided to tell you something you'll never understand because you no longer are on speaking terms with her:
Princess Arin: u know i broke up with him because of u right? :)
Princess Arin: one day I'll tell u all abt it.
She never told you anything about it. And by then, you were starting your last year and San was your best friend who hung out with you everyday after school, calling you late at night and helping you with assignments through Skype. So you didn't really care.
And as the day passed, you started understanding the connection they talked about in books and movies. You thought you did before, Gyuri being your eternal person in this world, but it felt so different with San.
Different and good. Different and achy enough for you to want to keep it in your life.
Your dynamic was friendly, sure, but it was alright. It consisted of banter and daring stares as well as laughter and soft moments you treasured till this day.
“It's way too early to be this annoying, Choi San.”
“Oh, you think this is me being annoying?”
You both got an hour of detention for disturbing the class that day.
You loved it.
But then, after almost a month of picking up the broken pieces of his heart one by one, and your mother giving him a self-help book to make him regain the confidence he lost during the breakup process, you realized that you were in love with him and there was nothing you could do about that.
You noticed one friday afternoon, when he offered to pay for your and your mom's ice cream at the drive through, when he scrambled to get all the change he had on him to leave a tip for the person who handed you guys the sweet treat, that there was no way you didn't love him.
And it was confusing as fuck when everyone else started to tell you he had feelings for you as well.
“Think about it. You text each other good morning everyday” Yeri listed with her finger and you nodded “Then, you go to school, sit together and spend the rest of the day together” another nod “Then after school you either go get ice cream together or hang out for a bit with your mom while she drives him home. And after that, you get on Skype for the reminder of the afternoon and then he calls you on your house phone and you two spend the rest of the night talking before falling asleep on the line together,” she looked at you like you were insane for even denying the accusations made against San, but she continued anyway “And then it's rinse and repeat and it has been that way since… What? Three months ago?”
You nodded again, defeated.
“Girl, he likes you.” she sighed, annoyed and a little tired, before sitting on your lap and kissing your lips affectionately “And you're here making out with me instead of him. You really are a lost cause.”
That didn't stop you from hooking up with her until she found a girl who's heart was not reserved for someone else, though. Said girl went to a different school and was a year younger than all of you, but she looked very happy and stopped secretly kissing you in the school bathroom like a week after they met.
And when she finally told everyone, you were really happy for her, but San not so much.
It was the night you thought everything was about to change. The night you thought he was about to kiss you or you were about to kiss him, whatever happened first.
Laying in your bed, facing each other in the dim light, he thought it was the biggest form of betrayal and pouted the whole time he explained to you why.
He thought you liked her and you realized he didn't really pay attention to you after all. Not the way you did with him.
Bless his heart.
You didn't kiss him that night because he wouldn't shut up about you and Yeri.
“I mean, why couldn't it be you? She clearly liked you if you two were hooking up for over a year” and when his hand came to rest on your back, under your shirt, you breath hitched enough for him to notice it but not enough for him to just don't do anything about it except trace the curve of your silhouette with the pad of his thumb “I don't understand why anyone would pass the opportunity to be with you.”
Huh. Maybe he did have feelings for you.
No. He's just being a great best friend. Don't take that for granted.
But it was impossible for you not to take Yeri’s words seriously as time went on.
You didn't want to think he was giving you mixed signals, but yet again there was that one time when you reached behind your passenger seat in your mothers car to pinch his leg playfully after he pulled on your hair a little bit from behind, only to end up holding his hand the rest of the car trip to his house.
His fingers slowly caressing the back of your hand were just too much for you not to get everything mixed up.
Or that other time when your school held a Woman's Day event, and your class president decided that all the boys in the class were going to give roses to the girls.
When it was your turn to get a rose, you knew no one would give you one. But Yeri stood in line and collected a rose from the bin before the class president had the opportunity to say anything else.
“I'll take that, thank you very much.” She turned to you, smiling. San blocked her way to you a second after.
“And just what do you think you're doing?”
“Giving my best girl a rose, of course.” She peeked around him, giving you a wink that you could only roll your eyes to.
San turned to you, the fondness in his eyes making you question the decision of not pretending to be sick that day. It was too much for you to handle.
“To the back of the line, then. I already called dibs on her,” he turned to your friend, snatching the rose from her hand in one swift move “I'll take that, thank you very much.”
He had no idea what that meant to you back then. It was true that, at school, he behaved a little differently than when you two were alone.
He was athletic, so he had some friends that you were sure used to ask him what the fuck was he doing wasting his time with a girl like you instead of getting a new girlfriend.
He had a family that didn't approve of yours, too. You felt it the first time you met his mom and, even though she was nice to you and your mom, you could feel the judgemental stare she gave both of you when your mom told her she was a single parent.
San told you that it didn't really matter, that his mom didn't have to like you because you weren't her friend, you were his.
He played with your feelings a little too well. Wanting him, adoring him and letting yourself be consumed by the thought of him loving you back was enough to keep it going. To ignore the fluttering way your heart kept beating whenever he talked to you which was all the time.
You assumed the way he behaved with you in private was the real him. The one who didn't care about appearances or his family approval.
The one who cared about you.
It was dizzying and fantastic and you thought he just might've been the love of your life.
But then he would tell you how much it hurted when he saw Arin at school and how much he missed her, the intimacy they shared before, and reality would come crashing down and setting your delusions on fire again.
He had sex with Arin. You would never stand a chance.
Or so you thought he did. Except when you overheard Arin speaking to her friends and that was the first time you ever got mad at Choi San.
“And, you know, me and San were never intimate like that so I wouldn't know but I think boys have no idea how to please a woman if they tried to.”
What?
Oh. So he lied to you.
And you were so upset by the thought of him making up stories of their intimate time together that it didn't even cross your mind that Arin might've been lying to save face.
So when he came back from the bathroom and sat at his usual desk in front of you, you didn't even think about his feelings when you decided to treat him like shit for lying about something so important like sex to your face.
“Leave me alone, San! I don't want to fucking talk to you right now!”
The hurt expression he gave you after that is one you would never be able to forget.
But you grew to be stubborn and a little overprotective of your own feelings, so you thought him playing the part of your best friend all these months and sweet talking to you was just another one of his lies.
“You guys not being friends right now doesn't make any fucking sense, sweetheart.” Wooyoung's tone is careful and laced with affection, but you knew he was playing the devil's advocate on behalf of San. With his arm around Gyuri’s shoulder (by that point, they were a thing for over two months) you could swear you saw him smirk when the nickname brought a scowl to your face.
He might've been worried, but he was also a little shit.
“You really are going to let Arin ruin what you two have?” Your best friend was, of course, on your side. But she was your best friend for a reason and her love included pointing out when you were behaving like an infant at the age of seventeen and a half.
“You two are practically dating and you're going to let the evil ex-girlfriend get in the way? Over something you weren't even supposed to hear in the first place? Come on.”
Again, Wooyoung was a little shit. And you were so upset about everything that you shyness couldn't even help the fury behind your reply:
“Stop saying that! We are not practically dating, he's in love with Arin and I'm not sure I even like him like that anymore!” Getting tired of everyone and their mother (your mother) feeding your delusions, you came to the conclusion that putting a stop to your friendship with Choi San was for the best.
And, in doing so, you ended up breaking your own heart for the second time in your life.
But he didn't put up an easy fight at all. You remember the feeling of pure joy when he grabbed your hand on the way to the cafeteria one day, pulling you so hard you almost ended up sitting in his lap, and the way his pleading eyes begged you to listen to him one last time.
“Us not being friends doesn't feel right, Y/N…” he said and the word he used to categorize what both of you had hurted you, but you pushed the feeling away “Please, let's not fight anymore. I don't even know what happened, but I forgive you for yelling at me and I hope you forgive me for whatever it is you think I did.”
Of course, you forgave him the next second without thinking too much about it. And for a while, everything went back to normal. You Skyped as usual and occasionally you let your other friends join the call even though it didn't really feel like it used to before.
The next thing you knew, your feelings were in full bloom again and when you realized it, it was too late.
Because by then, you had already let your childhood friend, Sunhee, join a few Skype calls and by the fourth one she invited her friend, Minseo, to them as well.
Terrible, terrible mistake. Because even through the screen, you could see that Minseo looked a lot like Arin with the added bonus that she was down to earth and cool and liked the same things San liked.
You liked the same things San liked as well, but it never seemed to matter.
Because not even two months after you decided to stop talking to San over a lie you weren't supposed to find out in the first place and then became friends one more time, he gets together with Minseo and you're sick to your stomach all over again.
You hated her. Not because she was, suddenly, his girlfriend (not girlfriend girlfriend, but in a friends with benefits arrangement you never even knew why he agreed on in the first place) but because suddlenly she was so fucking obnoxious and didn't seem to like you either.
Was it not painfully obvious San didn't have feelings for you? Why was she mad at you then? You literally brought them together!
And all you got in return was her telling him she didn't feel comfortable with him having a girl best friend. That ungrateful bitch.
He stopped calling. He stopped texting, he stopped carpooling with you and your mom after school and he stopped caring whether your math assignment was done or not.
He stared pulling away more and more and it didn't matter how hard you tried to get him to talk to you, it seemed like he never really fucking cared about you in the first place.
And by may that year, you didn't speak to San anymore. Granted, the only person he did speak to was Wooyoung, but even their friendship was falling apart.
For the first time ever, San broke your heart firsthand. And it felt really, really fucking bad.
You cried to your mom about it, she reminded you that you were nothing but a great friend to him and that, if he didn't take the time to appreciate that, that was his loss not yours.
And she started hating him from that moment on. But you couldn't hate San, not even a little bit.
Why would you hate him for not liking you back? For not loving you the way you loved hi—
Your laptop closes down right in front of you and when you try to look up to find out who's responsible for interrupting your writing time, you get interrupted again.
“Ouch! What the fuck, Gyuri?” the slap to the back of your head is quick and fill with rage.
“What the fuck are you even writing. I can read from here, you know?”
“I'm just laying my feelings down and— Ouch! Stop that!” You try to hit her back but she turns away quickly when your hands almost knock her coffee mug out of hers.
“You can't possibly still have love for San, Y/N. It's been years.”
It's been four and a half, to be precise. But who's counting, right?
“And why are you writing it in third person? You don't usually do that.”
“I don't really know, Gyuri!”
“I’m telling you, this celebratory dinner bullshit it's affecting you way more than it should,” she sighs, plopping down on the couch of your shared living room, and you leave your seat at the table to join her “He might not even show up. He has that thing with Kyungmi.”
Kyungmi.
You couldn't get to that part on your open document, but San left Minseo when he met Kyungmi at one of the frat parties they love to attend. Wooyoung told you that he said that it was love at first sight and you even met her briefly when you picked Gyuri up from the apartment he and San got when they started college together.
She’s gorgeous and doesn't look like Arin or Minseo at all. It’s a different type of gorgeous. She's a year older than San and went to the same school as them and Gyuri.
You think you might even like her better than him.
You tried to be happy for San when you found out, but you two barely even speak a word to each other and you convinced yourself a while ago that you couldn't care less if he sees right through you and your fake smiles.
You gathered, after everything happened, that San knew you liked him and took advantage of that. Unintentionally, but he did anyway.
You sigh, resting your head on your best friend's shoulder. “It’s his best friend's celebratory dinner, though, he needs to be there.”
Two seconds pass and then you both say it at the same time: “He’s in love.”
And when San is in love, he has a one track mind with the name of his lover as the goal.
You nod, but you can't help but to be insistent “It's Wooyoung's celebratory dinner, he needs to show up, right?”
“I might not even show up, he's a pain in the ass.” She replies but you can tell her annoyance is not genuine and it makes you smile.
Gyuri and Wooyoung broke up towards the end of your first year of college but you all stayed close friends. A one year relationship was not enough to fuck up the friendship they had and they decided to stay civil until, eventually, they became close friends again.
To this day, you wonder why you and San couldn't rekindle your friendship when it became clear to you that you missed your friend and not the guy that you liked.
Because San was always your friend first and your first love second.
But it doesn't really matter anymore, because Gyuri is forcing you to shower and reminding you that you two need to keep Wooyoung on his best behavior tonight.
“That girl he used to like before me is going, he said. I looked her up, she's single and he needs to get together with her because I can't take him whining about it anymore.”
They keep things with each other way too civil, you think.
“I'm telling you, if we don't show up he's going to do that thing where he gets drunk and makes a fool of himself. I can't have that, I'm on a mission.”
“A mission to get your ex laid?” You ask, shampooing your hair.
“A mission to get him a girlfriend so he can stop crying to me about feeling lonely.”
“Maybe he wants you guys to—” The shower curtain opens and you see your best friend’s scowl before covering yourself up with your hands.
“Gyuri!”
“Don't you dare say what you were about to say or I'm divorcing you.”
You chuckle “Sure you are.”
You're left alone again with the water stream and she goes back to do her makeup “I told you back in ninth grade that we weren't a great fit and I was right. We can't get back together,” she sighs “It'll ruin everything.”
“I doubt it will but you guys have been friends longer than you were boyfriend and girlfriend, so I'll just have to deal with my parents being divorced and civil.”
“God, don't ever refer to us like that again— Oh! Speaking of parents,” you see her beam at her phone when you move the shower curtain to search for your towel and then she shows it to you “Mingi and Love just celebrated their one year anniversary!”
Love being Mingi’s best friend. Gyuri talks to you about her college friend group all the time. The drama fuels your dinner conversations, you even follow a few of them on social media.
“What does that have to do with parents?”
“They're the mom and dad of the group.”
San is in that friend group, you can see him in the back of the picture and you recognize his apartment layout too. He's not the main focus of it but he's all you can see until you notice the couple sitting near him on the couch.
The picture shows both of them, her in his lap and Mingi looking at her with stars in his eyes.
Good for them.
“Is that the girl he was friends with forever before they finally realized that they were in love?”
“Yeah,” she sighs in contempt, looking down at the picture again “I was there the day it happened. I mean, not physically with them, but they left Yunho's party together and I told Wooyoung that it was finally about to happen!”
Gyuri is not a romantic person at all. Her excitement shows you that she really loves them and so you soften at the news that would usually give you and your dry love life a headache “It was the day before you called me to get you out of that awful date.”
Ah, that also happened back then. You shudder at the memory.
“Tell them I say congrats, babe.”
“I'm bringing you as my plus one.”
You laugh, confused “To where?”
“Their wedding, duh.”
“They practically just got together,” you remind her, a year is not enough time to propose “And I don't really know them, Gyuri!”
“They love you,” she assures you as you step out of the shower “I have been speaking about your antisocial ass for years. They can't wait to meet you.”
“So you've been shit talking behind my back for years? Is that what I'm hearing?”
She laughs “No, babe, that's Wooyoung's job.”
Clearing your throat and looking at your friend through the mirror, you try to be as nonchalant as you can when you ask: “Has he… Did he tell you if…”
“No, Y/N, I have no clue if San is going or not and Wooyoung is actually mad at him at the moment.”
“Why?”
She looks at you, sighing “He's been lacking as a friend lately.”
“Hm.”
“I hope you're not planning on swooning if you see him. Fuck him, Y/N.”
“I know…”
“And by fuck him I mean he doesn't deserve you or your forgiveness.”
“He didn't do anything to me, Gyuri,” you remind her, shrugging “Not reciprocating my feelings is not a crime so I don't have to forgive him for anything.”
You can practically feel her starting the San hate train engine, so you step out of the bathroom but her voice follows you.
“And what about that time he ditched you for Minseo when you asked him to go with you to that medical appointment, huh?”
“Cut it out, Gyuri…”
But her head peaks around the corner, into the hall where you're rushing towards your room “Or that time when—”
“Can't hear you!” Turning to look at her, she gives you an affectionate middle finger and heads back to the bathroom.
Closing the door, you lean into the thin wood and sigh, getting San’s face out of your mind so you can focus on getting ready and actually show up for Wooyoung and Wooyoung only.
He just got a permanent position after completing his internship at a company that's your company's rival. He's going to crush you and steal clients from you but you are genuinely so happy for him.
You should've guessed he enjoyed books as much as you did back in highschool. The debates he used to have with Gyuri were not all about flirting with her but also because he has a passion for books.
And now he's going to work in the same field as you.
You're so proud of your friend.
As you get ready, you remember the excitement cruising through your body when your boss trusted you enough to give you the first manuscript of a new client so you could edit it. You're sure Wooyoung is going to do better than you, taking into account that he actually went to college for this.
You didn't.
You met your boss at the part-time job you got in senior year, when you were trying to distract yourself from all the pain and the horrors of becoming a grown up. She was chatty, got a little too drunk on soju and told you she was starting her own book publishing company.
When she returned months later after remembering that you told her you loved books and would love to work for as a publisher one day, she offered you a job in her company right after graduating highschool.
You took it because you didn't think an opportunity like this would show up ever again.
She was truly a blessing, the kind of person you never really believed in until she taught you all you needed to know about publishing and editing and encouraged you to take online classes during the nights so you could get, at least, a certification on what you do.
You're proud of yourself too. The opportunity found you in a specific moment of your life where both your heart and your self esteem were destroyed and now you're not the person you used to be.
Maybe that's why the possibility of facing San makes you so nervous. Collective memories are dangerous because the details never match the ones on the other person's head.
You know who you were back then but… Are you the same person in San’s head?
You don't even want to find out.
Scanning your outfit in the mirror for the last time, you take the shoes you're wearing tonight out of your closet and walk over to the living room.
Only to find Gyuri laying on the carpet under the coffee table, half dressed and on her phone.
“You're going to mess up your hair.”
“I don't care, I'm not going.”
Sighing, you seat down on the couch and staring at the wood of the table covering her face.
“What happened now?”
“The bitch canceled!”
“Wooyoung?”
Poking her head out, she frowns at you “No, his first love.”
“You were his first love.”
“You know what I'm talking about, Y/N!”
Laughing at her, you offer her your hand “Get dressed. Who cares if she's not going? He's not going to sulk because he's going to have you and his best friends there.”
She whines like a child when you pull her up from the floor “I had a plan!”
“Then make a new one, babe. We're going to be late.”
She starts to whine again but then stops mid-groan to give you a once over. You shift uncomfortably on your feet, suddenly self-conscious about your appearance for the first time in years.
“You look really hot…” she tells you and you fake gag at her words “Really pretty. Like a fairy and a smoke show at the same time.”
You can't possibly look like that when you have such a simple outfit on, floor length high waist black pants and a flowy sleeve top that ties in the middle. It's barely formal but now you're thinking too hard about it.
Blushing, you wave your hand to dismiss her compliment “Oh, my god. Go and change!”
She rushes to her room on the opposite end of the hall and you finally breathe, looking down at your choice of fit and wondering if it's too much.
Gyuri would've told you if that's the case, but either way it haunts your mind in the car on the way there, leg bouncing up and down under your best friend's judging gaze that only softens when you pout at her.
“They are going to love you, babe. I'm so serious, they've been waiting years to meet you.”
You nod because, yes, you're concerned that her friend group is not all as welcoming as she paints them to be.
And you wish your doubts would go away but you're really, really not good at making friends. You're cautious, extremely closed off to new people and not as good with conversation no matter how much confidence you gained over the past years.
When you walk to the loudest table at the laid back restaurant their friend Seonghwa made the reservation at, you think you won't be able to fit in with everyone else. You feel like an intruder, like Gyuri is supposed to enjoy this part of her life without you here.
That's why you rejected every invitation they ever made.
You celebrate birthdays with her, with Woo as well, but it's all very intimate and separate from their social circle, the one that includes the man you haven't fully faced in years.
But you can't exactly back out now, not when one of them turns to you and seems to light up when they see you.
“Oh? Is this her?” you recognize Hongjoong from pictures, he's the only one facing you when you approach the table, lowkey hiding behind Gyuri like a child.
“Who?”
“Huh?”
San is nowhere to be seen. Thank god.
Slowly, everyone turns around and you see their faces light up with both delight and surprise. Your heart is pounding, you feel it in your throat, in your eyes, in the heat that colors your cheeks.
But Gyuri just steps aside and presents you with a smile “This is her!”
“Oh, Y/N!” Wooyoung gets up, rushing towards you and crashing into your frame with a crushing hug “I'm so glad you're here,” he murmurs into your hair and then turns to his friends, quiet them down “Everyone, this is Y/N, one of my best friends in the entire world.”
He's such a dramatic human being.
You love him so much.
Raising your hand, you shyly wave at them “Hi.”
The entire table erupts with joy. Some of them greet you, some of them are saying that they are happy to be finally meeting you and Wooyoung grabs your arm and plops you down into the seat next to Gyuri, at the edge of the table.
Laughing, you apologize for not meeting them sooner and then you feel a pair of hands on your shoulders.
Panic raising, you quickly turn around to see who it is before releasing a shuddering, but calmer, breath.
“She's a very busy woman, guys. She works for the competition, my competition,” everyone gasps at that but Wooyoung is smiling at you “and she's very good at what she does. Which means she's busy, get off her case,” he puts a glass and a can of beer in front of you “Drink, babe.”
“Thanks, babe.” You whisper back and he leans in to peck your head before going away.
Gyuri groans “Stop stealing that from us! It's our thing, Y/N, don't indulge him.”
“It's his celebratory dinner…” you argue with a laugh that Hongjoong and Mingi follow.
“Yeah! Can you get off my case tonight, Gyuri?”
She huffs, wrapping her arms around you “I hate you all.”
“No you don't!”
The table laughs and everyone returns to their individual conversations when Woo sits down on his spot.
There's a few seats left, one besides Mingi and one right in front of you but you don't think too much about it because soon Gyuri gets up to ask Yeosang something and Seonghwa occupies her seat right beside you.
You think he can sense that you're more shy than you let on, because he doesn't include you in whatever he and Yunho were talking about and waits until he stops talking to him to turn to you.
“So, you work for a publishing company?”
The question caughts you off guard and you swallow the beer quickly before nodding “Y-yeah, I… Yeah.”
He chuckles “You're nervous.”
“I'm just not as good at meeting people as Gyuri is. She usually does the job and I tag along.”
“I feel like I know you already, though.” He says, leaning back on his chair.
“Because she talks a lot about me?” he nods “Yeah, she tends to do that.”
“Wooyoung also talks a lot about you, San too… Sometimes,” your cheeks heat up and he misinterprets what it means “All good things, I promise.”
You doubt that.
Your brain gives you a hundred and one possible things San could've said about you.
For some reason, none of them are good. But you choose to believe the gorgeous, long haired guy in front of you.
“Well that's good to hear,” you take another sip of your drink before smiling at him “I was sure Woo was trash talking about me.”
He shakes his head with a smile “He wouldn't dare, he has Gyuri on his ass all the time and I'm sure she would kill him.”
“I'm sure she would kill him even if he didn't do it.”
His smile grows wider “That's true,” he says, looking over at them who are, very coincidentally, fighting about something. You let out a sigh and he laughs again before clearing his throat “So, the publishing company. What kind of books do you like to edit the most?”
Your smile grows wider too.
For the next hour, you talk to Seonghwa about your job and how you started in it. He asks you about your classes and the challenges that you face on a daily basis and Wooyoung overhears and ends up joining the conversation as well.
You don't even hear footsteps nearing until a voice cuts everyone off.
“I'm sorry I'm late!”
“Baby!” Mingi gets up from his seat, but no one else does so he's stuck between the table and his girlfriend.
“Oh, that's Love, huh?” you ask Seonghwa, Wooyoung too entertained messing with the couple to hear you anyways.
“Yeah… Is that how Gyuri refers to her?” He frowns.
“Mhm,” you answer, leaning into him like you're about to tell him an important secret “I'm not supposed to call her that, don't tell her.”
Seonghwa leans in too, pretending to zip his mouth shut and you laugh.
The girl wiggles her way into the seat reserved for her and everyone lets out a groan when they smooch each other. You can only giggle and the sound draws her attention to you “Y/N?”
You quickly nod “Yeah, hi, nice to meet you.”
“Nice to meet you! Finally, I thought Wooyoung and Gyuri had an imaginary friend,” you laugh, shrugging at the joke “Love your outfit, by the way, are those— Oh, San, hi— Are those jellyfish?”
You want to answer. You truly do, the yes right at the tip of your tongue, but words leave you when you turn your head around and find San already looking at you with wide eyes.
He looks great, he's a bit more muscular than what the pictures show and than the last time that you saw him, his arms hugging the fabric of the dress shirt he's wearing like it was tailored for him and everything.
How dare he.
You wonder if his heart is beating as loud as yours is right now. If he's surprised, disappointed or happy to see you at all.
“Her favorite animal.” He answers for you “Hi, Y/N.”
“Hi…” you whisper back and it feels like you're in a trance. He doesn't look away but the table quieting down once again snaps you out of it and you turn to the girl with a wide smile that you hope conceals whatever the fuck you're feeling at the moment “I love jellyfishes. Had a phase as a child when I would exclusively talk about them, too,” you chuckle, nervously, reaching for your earrings instinctively “Gyuri gave them to me as a present last Christmas.”
You definitely overshared just now. From the corner of your eye you catch your best friend getting ready to step in if needed.
Love looks at you, then at San (who's just standing next to you without uttering a word) and then back at you again, smiling like she just figured something out “Well, I love them.”
“Thanks…”
Coughing unnecessarily loud, Wooyoung gets up from his seat “You're late.”
It takes a second but San tears his gaze away from you to look at his best friend and you take the opportunity to chug down the rest of your beer “Sorry, something came up.”
Seonghwa turns at that and looks at him as well “You good?”
“I am. Did you guys already eat? I'm starving.”
“Nope. We're about to order. Let me get you a drink, come here.” And just like that, he disappears from your view and you almost sigh in relief.
“Are you good?” Seonghwa asks you next and you reckon he's very observant. But then again, you're not the most gracious human being when you're in San’s presence, so, you figure everyone else noticed your change of mood as well.
“Yeah, I just… I haven't seen him in a while and I didn't think he was coming. I was surprised, that's all.”
“I can see that,” his eyes move around your face for some reason, frowning a little bit but then he seems to let it go, getting the menu closer to you “Okay, good, um… I actually made the reservation here because they have the best samgyeopsal in town.”
“Do they?”
“Mhm, so…”
He helps you pick your food and when it's time to order, he moves back to his seat. Gyuri asks you with her eyes if you're okay, you nod and grab her hand under the table with a tiny smile and then everyone is moving around to make space for San and Woo once they return.
He doesn't sit in front of you.
Relief floods you and you can finally feel your muscles relax as he is so far away, at the other end of the table and in the same row of seats, so you don't really see him unless you really try.
Which you don't, so your food goes down easy and the rest of the night as well.
Until everyone but you and Seonghwa move around their seats and he ends up right in your point of view as you do your best to ignore him and focus on his friend.
Seonghwa asks you about your hobbies, you tell him that you love to write movie essays on websites no one even cares to read and he asks you to show it to him so he can look it up when he gets home.
“And you've always done this? Since highschool?”
You nod and he beams “I read like the first three lines and it looks really good, Y/N. Is that why you love books so much? Because you're a writer?”
“I wouldn't consider myself a writer but… Sure, I love to write.”
“Did you know this?” he turns to San and your smile drops a little.
“Know what?”
“Your friend is an excellent writer.”
“Oh, I know. She, uh… Used to write stories on her notebook instead of paying attention in math class,” he sips on his drink and at the detail you didn't know he knew, you turn to him fully “I used to read over her shoulder sometimes.”
“She's really good.” Seonghwa is looking at your phone, still reading “Really smart, too.”
San’s jaw tenses a little and you can't understand why “I know.” He says again.
His friend is none the wiser, blocking your phone and returning it to you “I like it,” he says, smiling and you blush “The essay.” He clarifies after a second, prompting a laugh out of you that he joins.
San doesn't laugh, but you don't pay attention to him because Seonghwa is asking you something else.
When it's time to leave the restaurant, Wooyoung suggests going back to his apartment to milk the get-together as much as you all can.
You all throw your napkins at him in feign disgust at the choice of words but you all accept his proposal either way.
So now you're sitting on the couch, legs crossed and head on Gyuri’s shoulder while you listen to all of them talk (more like argue) about something that happened at their university last week, their voices drowning the soft music playing out of the tiny speaker resting on the counter.
San is on the floor, to your right. It's hard to keep your eyes off him when you feel him looking at you when you close your eyes and let the noise fade into the background. It's not like you're able to add something to the conversation anyway and Gyuri seems to be drinking her sorrows (not being able to hook Woo up with the girl she told you about) away.
Your best friend is slurring her words already, drink in hand and index finger pointing at Jongho accusatively because, apparently, the fight they're talking about was his fault.
“You don't—” she hiccups “You don't even know why it was your fault and it pisses me off even more, you know?”
“Okay, let me take that.” Taking the drink from her hand and before she starts complaining you stand up to make your way into the kitchen.
The sink is full and a mess, so you pour the liquid into it and leave the glass sitting right beside it. Distracted by the dilemma of helping Woo out with the dishes or not, you don't notice someone else also entering the space.
That's why you jump a little when you turn and catch Seonghwa leaning on the wall by the entrance. It startles you enough to laugh the nerves out afterwards and he shakes his head, smiling.
“Sorry, didn't mean to scare you. They're boring me to death with the fight story.”
You nod, realizing that maybe that's because he doesn't attend the university anymore. He told you he graduated last year “They're too drunk to let it go.”
“Too drunk to dance to this amazing song, too. Who's playlist is that?” he frowns and you rest your back into the sink, rolling your eyes because he's pretending he doesn't know “Oh! Right, it's mine.”
“And they just don't know how to appreciate it, huh?” he shrugs and you click your tongue “They're such bad friends, Seonghwa, I truly don't know why you keep them around.”
“You appreciate it,” it's your turn to frown and he leaves his spot at the wall to walk towards you “You were singing along to it,” he explains and you let out an ah, nodding as he extends his palm to you, clearly inviting you to dance.
“Oh, I don't… I don't really know how to—”
“I'll show you.”
His kind eyes are asking you to trust him. You really, really shouldn't.
No matter how hard you try to bury the hopeless romantic little girl who decided to have a crush on a guy back in ninth grade, she's still there, begging you to let loose and live a little.
When you grab Seonghwa’s hand, you think the smile he gives you was worth listening to her.
You can't even tell the song that's softly playing anymore, a mellow r&b melody reaches your ear but you are not listening. You're focused on him, on the way he spins you around even if it doesn't fit the bit, on the way he laughs softly against your ear when he pulls you close by your hand and then pulls away just as quickly.
Laughing as well, the spell of this beautiful stranger (because you remind yourself you don't really know him that well) is hard to break.
Until it does.
Someone clearing their throat behind you stops you and Seonghwa's feet from moving any further. When the tall, older guy turns you around, you're face to face with San and his scowl.
“Sorry to interrupt but I need to get started on the dishes. Everyone else is heading out too,” he looks behind you, at the man who's still standing close to you and grabbing your hand “In case you want to ask Mingi for a ride.”
“They finally stopped fighting!” he fakes excitement, finally letting go of your hand and walking in front of you, blocking San with his body. You chuckle, barely clapping your hands to join the pretense as he's pulling up his phone “Can I ask for your number, Y/N?”
Blinking a few times, you're not sure if your heart speeds up because he's asking or because you hear San sigh exasperated behind him “S-sure.”
When you put your information on his phone, he bids you goodbye with a pat on your head and hugs San on his way out the kitchen.
Now that you two are alone, you suddenly want to run and join Seonghwa. You were doing so, so well.
Avoiding San like the plague it's much easier when you're safe hiding behind your two best friends.
Ignoring his stare would be much easier if you weren't stuck into place.
“I—”
“You—”
You both speak over each other and you force out an uncomfortable laugh that he doesn't return. Instead, he motions you to go first while he occupies the space in front of the sink, turning the faucet on. In doing so, he has to grab your waist and move you out of the way which makes you short circuit for a second “I was going to help you with that.” You finally stammer out.
He lets out what you take as an annoyed chuckle.
“You seemed busy, I don't know how you would've done it.”
Ouch.
Why do you allow his words to cut so deep when you stopped caring about what he does a long time ago?
The band aid rips, the stitches come undone and all it took him were five seconds to melt your resolve away like it was never there in the first place.
“I'll… I go get Gyuri so we can leave Woo and you to get to it, then.”
“Bathroom.” You hear him mutter under his breath as you are taking the final step to leave.
“Huh?”
“She's in the bathroom, probably puking her breakfast out,” he looks up at you to give you a tiny smile “You left her alone with Jongho and Woo for five minutes so she got ahold of another drink.”
“God damnit.”
Rushing out, you run into everyone else at the door and Mingi has to let go of his very intoxicated girlfriend when she reaches you to give you a hug “Don't be a stranger, Y/N! It was lovely to be around you, hm?”
The sudden physical contact almost makes you gasp but you cover it up with a shy giggle “O-oh. Yeah, um, lovely to meet you too. All of you.”
“Sorry about that,” her boyfriend grabs her arms and breaks the hug “She's right, though. Don't be a stranger.”
You nod once, smiling a little more sincerely now and everyone says bye to you, including Seonghwa, who grabs your hand one last time and gives it a squeeze before closing the front door of the apartment.
You think you feel your heart skip a tiny bit under all the shit San’s words pulled up to the surface a minute ago. But there's no time to dwell in that: you hear Gyuri opening up the bathroom door before gagging and closing it again with a slam.
Jesus Christ.
You two are really getting old. You stopped drinking like an hour ago, when you were starting to feel tipsy after your second beer, and you know she didn't drink as much as she used to maybe four years ago, but the visage that welcomes you when you open the door and find her crouched down in front of the toilet certainly brings back memories of those times.
“I left you alone for like… five minutes.” Sighing, you lean in to hold her flimsy ponytail and pat her back.
“I'm good,” she gags again and then holds up her hand to stop you from saying anything else “I'm fine.”
Smiling, you help her up and she grabs the counter as she's washing away the taste of whatever she ate earlier today and alcohol “Me when I lie…”
“Y/N!” she hits your arm but the movement somehow almost makes her trip.
“You want to lay down?”
“Is she okay?” Woo’s head peaks into the bathroom and when he sees his ex, he makes a face.
“Does she look like she's okay?” you help her out of the bathroom and start heading for Wooyoung's room.
“Wow, wow— Where do you think you're taking her?”
“To your room, dumbass!”
“Why mine? San's is literally right there.” He whines, pointing at the door you pass by without a second thought. You don't want to know where his room is or what it looks like at all.
“Yeah, well, did San get her this drunk?”
“How was I supposed to know that she was at her almost black-out phase? She never drinks that much in front of me!” he complains again but you're already tugging Gyuri in, who mumbles something incoherent and then flips Wooyoung off “Na Gyuri if you puke on my bed I swear to God!”
If you didn't know Wooyoung so much, the whining and the attitude would probably make you think he didn't care for her at all. But he's brushing her hair out of her forehead, securing the blanket around her and moving to take her socks off when you reach the door.
“I'm guessing you're okay with her staying the night?”
“Of course you guys can stay the night, Y/N.” He says and he stumbles a little to get to you, so you smile and shake your head, about to let him know that you're not staying anywhere near his roommate when he continues “You can come over whenever you like. You know that, right?”
“I know, Woo.”
“I barely even see you these days, I… Oh! I forgot!” he points to the end of the hall, towards the kitchen “You guys don't really like each other so maybe don't come over when he's here because I don't want to see you sad!”
“Lower your voice,” you whisper to him, bringing a hand to his face and patting his cheek a few times to wake him up “Did the alcohol suddenly hit you or something?” you sigh for the umpteenth time “Anyways, you should lay down and I'll get going. I'll come pick her up tomorrow and—”
“That's such a great idea! Oh, I'm a genius.”
“You didn't come up with it, Wooyoung.”
“San!” he calls all of the sudden and you wish he was sober enough to read the panic on your features. He seems much, much sober when his best friend starts walking down the hall and stops right beside you “Take Y/N home, please, she's going to give you a bag that you must protect with your life.”
Said best friend looks at you, his eyebrow arched in a silent question “Gyuri’s stuff.”
“Ah.”
“Go, go. It's getting late, I'll just… I'll cuddle with my ex until you get home.”
And she has the nerve to say he doesn't want her back.
When the door to Wooyoung's room closes and you're left with San on the poorly lit hallway, you make a mental note to never step foot on this place or allow your friends to drink ever again.
You don't even look at the guy before practically running down the hallway and reaching for your bag. You make sure your phone is secured in your pocket as you slip your shoes on and soon you're grabbing the front door knob and twisting it.
Keys jingle next to you but, again, you don't spare San a glance.
“So—”
“I'll get out of your hair, you don't have to… walk me home or whatever he said.”
“Y/N, it's late.”
Turning to him, your smile is as fake as the ones you've been giving him the past couple of years “And I'm a grown up, San, I can walk myself home.”
“What about Gyuri’s stuff?”
“She can wear Wooyoung's clothes, it's not like they never shared before. Anyway… Thank you for having me, it was nice to see you. Goodnight.” Your response comes out fast and it sounds as planned out as it actually is, kinda robotic and devoid of actual emotion.
San can't see through you the way you see through him. It's okay, he won't mind it.
He probably won't mind that you close his own door on his face either.
If that door is what you hear when you're making your way down the stairs in order to make a fast escape, you choose to ignore it.
You have to stop mid-way to compose yourself. You don't know why you feel like crying or why your heart is beating so fast.
You knew going in that there was a possibility of seeing him tonight. You know how San affects you, so effortless and seemingly like no time has passed at all in between senior year and present day.
You know all of this already, it's an endless loop that will keep repeating until you either move away or decide to stop agreeing to Wooyoung's plans all together.
So why is your chest heaving with emotion? Why is nostalgia playing mind tricks with you? Why do you want to turn back and hug him and beg him to turn back time so you can do it all differently now that you know how to look like and what to say to make him love you back?
Ah, you're definitely not sleeping tonight. So you start distracting yourself while walking down the stairs again. You remind yourself to tell a much sober Wooyoung how proud you are of him. You think about Seonghwa, about his kind eyes and the way he grabbed your hand to dance with him just half an hour ago. You wonder how long it will take you to get home if you jog all the way there. You—
Why the fuck is San outside when you get there?
In a comedic way, you can see your attempt to distract your mind off of him slipping through your fingers and evaporating in the warm summer night breeze.
In a realistic way, you're fucking pissed at him for taking the opportunity of a good night sleep away from you.
You pass him and start jogging like you planned a minute ago. Footsteps follow you until his arm brushes yours and you take a step to the side to stop it from happening again.
“Go home, Choi San.”
“Stop fighting it, Y/N. I'm walking you home.”
“It's a twenty minute walk—”
“Drop it.”
You do. And for the first ten minutes, no one utters a word even if the tension feels electric and the street is so quiet so you can hear when his breath accelerates when he jogs to catch up to you whenever you try to leave him behind.
Isn't that ironic. He was the one who left you behind all those years ago.
“I didn't know that you danced.”
He breaks the uncomfortable but safe silence to say that?
“Well, you saw me dance so I clearly dance when I want to.”
“You never danced with me.”
“You never asked me to.”
He laughs “I'm pretty sure I did on several occasions, Y/N.”
“Well, you're wrong,” you're getting annoyed. How dare he think he remembers better than you? “It doesn't matter anyway, what's past is past and—”
“You also gave Hwa your number,” he interrupts, his long legs taking two strides to get in front of you, still walking, facing your direction with his hands on his pockets.
It's dangerous and stupid, even if the streets are practically empty and the sidewalk barely has any bumps.
You hope he falls on his pretty face.
“I did.*
“I don't have your number.”
“Well, I changed it and you never asked for it, so…”
“You could've called me or texted me to let me know you did it.”
He's getting on your nerves.
“San,” you start, taking in a deep breath you hope calms you down “We don't even text anymore, why would you want my number?”
“Do you like him?”
“Seonghwa?” you ask, frowning and he nods “Like… As a person?”
“As a potential love interest.” He clarifies matter-of-factly and you roll your eyes.
“I met him today, San. Why do you want my number?”
“Because we're friends?” he offers after a second, shifting so he's walking by your side again.
“Are we?” you ask, laughing bitterly at that “Because we haven't spoken a word to each other in years.”
“That's not true.”
“It is, San.”
“You… You don't speak to me anymore, so…”
“Well your girlfriend at the time told me she didn't feel comfortable with me speaking to you anymore,” you sigh “so I didn't and you didn't try to talk to me either.”
“Well, I want to talk to you now.”
“And is your new girlfriend aware of that? Is she comfortable with that? Because I don't want anyone telling me what to do anymore and—”
“Why wouldn't she be comfortable? We're friends, Y/N.”
“Are we?” you insist, petty, bitter and overall very, very hurt.
He looks offended at that “I assumed we were?”
He's getting on your fucking nerves.
“We stopped being friends the second Minseo asked me to stay away from you because she didn't like me, San.”
“She’s not in my life anymore—”
The words are coming out of your mouth without even thinking it through. His demeanor, the way he's somehow reproaching you for whatever he saw between you and his friend, the way he pretends nothing happened between you and him, thinking that you two are still friends.
“We stopped being friends when you pulled away from me, saw me do the same and did nothing to stop it from happening, San.”
He stops in his tracks at that. You don't, pushing forward and quickening your step even if your calves burn.
“Either way,” you speak up “Make sure you tell your girlfriend about wanting my number and then you can ask Seonghwa for it if you want—”
“She's not my girlfriend anymore!”
Now that stops you, just a few buildings down from yours, you turn around just to find San closer that you thought he'll be.
“O-oh. I… I didn't know that. I'm sorry.”
“You didn't do anything to be sorry for.”
“Still, it must suck so I'm sorry you're going through that.”
“We didn't want the same things and so we ended it. It is what it is.”
You nod.
He walks the few steps separating you and you have to raise your chin a little to look him in the eye for the first time since you left his apartment “I wanted to tell you.”
“That you broke up with your girlfriend?”
“Yeah, I don't know why. It happened when I broke up with Minseo too, I just… You're the first person that I thought of calling when it happened. I texted you, too, but the messages didn't go through.”
You hum at that.
Why would he even say that?
You resume your step, not really knowing what to say until you reach the stairs that lead to your building’s entrance.
“And you didn't ask Woo for my number?”
He follows you up.
“I don't think he would've given it to me if I asked.”
That sounds like an excuse, so you don't let it slide as you enter the code to your building and let yourself inside, San holding the door so he can get in as well “Why would he do that?”
“Because he…” San sighs, pressing the elevator button “Nevermind. He just wouldn't.”
Frowning, you turn to him “No, now you have to tell me.”
“It doesn't matter, really—”
“Tell me, San.”
He stares for a second and then looks away, like a child, vulnerable and you can't help but soften at that “He didn't like the way I treated you.”
Eating your words from before, you shake your head “You didn't treat me like anything.”
The elevator dings and you get inside.
San follows you.
“Exactly,” he says, resting his shoulder on the metal “Like you said I just did nothing and—”
“Well, sometimes that's just what happens,” you want to end this. You want to pack Gyuri’s bag, give it to him and never see him again.
This conversation hurts, it reopens barely closed wounds and it creates new ones you don't really need when it comes to whatever happened between you two.
There's only so much a person can handle and it really doesn't help that you're a fool for San. He takes advantage of it, of the fact you can't really push him away at this point and the fact that he wants to have this conversation now instead of four and half years ago?
Mean.
He's mean. He's evil. He's… He's staring at you with a spark in his eyes that you recognize too well.
Hope.
When you get to your floor, you try to wipe the image away while busying yourself with your keys. Your hands tremble a little but you're able to open the door of your apartment and get in without inviting him.
He gets in anyway. You take off your shoes as he closes the front door.
He stays silent as he follows you around the apartment and you don't worry about turning the lights on. You get into Gyuri’s room and start picking out a comfy hangover outfit for your friend. Some clean underwear, sweatpants, two shirts and socks.
When you drop to the floor, in front of the closet, to look for a bag to stash all of it in, San silently clutches beside you.
“It shouldn't have happened to us. Never us.”
You can't take it anymore.
“San, what is this? What are you doing? I mean, why are we—”
“I know.”
“It's been years…”
“I miss you.”
He's so mean. But the softness in his tone resembles the one he used all the way back in highschool, when he told you that not being friends with you didn't feel right and you want to cave in right there and then.
Your heart screams at you to do it, your reason warns you that you both have been through this before and it never ends right.
You simply can't stay friends with Choi San.
Your love for him must run too deep, your resentment claws at it and tries to hurt it but it's an immovable force that won't budge even if you try to bury it under the years that have passed, the things he has done.
Tears gather in your eyes and you try to blink them away as you stare at your best friend's clothes on your lap and try to come up with something to close this path up again, reconstruct the picket fence you built around it the second he broke your heart for the first time.
“Yeah,” you whisper back, letting the walls fall a little “I miss you too but I don't think I miss whatever version of you you are right now, San.”
“W-what?”
His shaky voice makes the walls crumble and crash.
Turning to him, your hand shakes as you place it on top of his “And you don't miss the version of me I am right now. You miss what I was back then, the comfort and the shoulder to cry on I offered you when Arin and you broke up. You miss my availability and the way I didn't press my feelings on you because it didn't matter if I liked you or not, you were my friend first and the guy that I had a crush second but—” you choke up, tears falling down your cheeks even if you don't want them to “I can't do it anymore. I'm not that girl anymore and I won't be there for you now that you and Kyungmi broke up because I can't handle it. I can't, I'm sorry.”
He doesn't deny any of it.
He stares at you, tears wetting his cheeks as well and it hurts even more this way. You wish you had the strength to hold it together, to treat him like you did on the street a few minutes ago, but you can't.
There's no way you could ever hate him like you want to.
“You know…” he starts in a whisper, letting out a humorless chuckle “That's what I used to tell myself too.”
“Hm?”
“That you were my friend first and the girl that I had a crush on second.”
How dare he mutter the words you always wanted to hear, the ones you picture being said in a different setting, the ones that haunted your every waking thought that period of time you doubted your friends, your mom, yourself for even believing Choi San could ever have a crush on you.
He doesn't get to say them. You want to tell him but the words die on your throat and form a lump that you can't swallow down.
You don't get to say that. You don't get to say that.
Your hand drops from his and you look away again only to grab the first bag you find on the closet floor and shove Gyuri’s stuff in it.
If the lack of response it's what prompts the hurt in his voice the next time he speaks, you don't want to think about it.
“I wish I didn't. Now it's too late to do something about it, huh?”
This time the rage comes back with a mask on. Feing settlement for all the what if’s covers you like a blanket on a really hot summer night: unwanted, unnecessary.
But you can't sleep without it, so you do nothing to push it away.
“I guess it is.”
You get up from the floor, leaving the room and wiping your face with bitterness coating your movements as you wait by the door for him to get out.
When he does and he steps in front of you, you extend the bag and he takes it without missing a beat.
Voice robotic and words premeditated, you open the front door for him “Thanks for walking me home and taking this back.”
He leans a little into your space and you don't move away. But just as he did in highschool, he takes in your hitched breath and does nothing more.
“Thanks for letting me talk to you.”
He didn't give you much of a choice there but it's okay. This is closure, this is the end of your story with Choi San and you convince yourself you're glad that it is.
“Sure,” you whisper back and he steps outside, turning around to watch you slowly close the door “goodnight, San.”
He doesn't say it back.
When the darkness of your apartment engulfs you, that's when you let yourself breakdown. Covering your mouth with your palm, you descend until your knees are against the wood on the floor and closing your eyes you make it a point to let it all out.
You'll let it all out, drink some water, text Wooyoung and Gyuri to let them know you're safe and go to bed.
And tomorrow you'll begin your day with the freedom of finally knowing what would've happened if you or San ever took the next step.
This is fine. This is moving on. This is—
The doorbell rings.
Opening the door again, you crease your eyebrows in a silent question that San doesn't care to answer, so you look around the floor in case he forgot something you're missing. You wipe your cheeks and under your eyes as you turn to him again “Did you—”
Time slows down when he makes it past the threshold and you can't move an inch, gaping at who you once thought was the love of your life “What are you doing, San?”
“Something about it.”
“What?”
“Forgive me,” he asks, breathless and in a murmur, fueling your confusion. And then he's closing the distance, dropping Gyuri’s bag and cupping your face so gently that it hurts “but I'm doing something about it.”
You stopped dreaming about the possibility of San kissing you that one time you two were on your bed and, another time, you told yourself that, if it ever happened, you wouldn't kiss him back.
It's too late to kiss him back.
But sparks fly when he crushes you against the wall and takes in a breath before slothing his mouth against yours like he's been waiting to do this every single day for the past nine years you've known each other.
There's nothing you can do to conceal the way yearning takes over you, pours out of you, making you breathe into his open mouth and kiss him back like you always wanted to.
You already know it is a mistake by the time you grab his shirt to keep him in place but does it really matter when this is all you ever wanted?
Feeling warmth leave your face, you notice the way he desperately crowds your space as his chest bumps into yours, leg claiming its place in between yours, the palm that leaves you pressing against the wall, next to your head.
The kiss is filled with emotion, with longing and desire and it steals the air out of your lungs tragically and beautifully at the same time. Before, you used to dream about his lips making everything feel right, making you fit in in a world you didn't feel like you belonged to.
But this kiss drops you into uncharted territory, drags you into the depths of something that should be buried by now, after all this time. It brings the flame back to life and it's dangerous.
The fact that it feels this way, both marvelous and catastrophic at the same time, makes you so sad.
Sorrow descends down your face until your mouth is picking it up and your tongue is mixing it with whatever emotion is cruising through San right now.
You have to know.
He spent your entire youth and early adulthood keeping it to himself, knowing when to show his true colors and when to hide them, choosing who to do it with and you realize the San that lives in your head is nothing but a figment of what you wanted him to be.
Because him holding to your waist like it's his only lifeline doesn't fit the San you remember, him telling you he liked you back then doesn't fit the guy who was just your best friend.
You need to know.
“San,” brokenly, you speak into his mouth and he pulls away just enough to see your face. Your eyes remain closed, your chest heaving and your lips trembling “Why are you doing this?”
“Because I want you, Y/N.”
You push him away, weakly, almost like you don't really mean it because deep down you don't but he steps away like you're asking to.
Because, of course, your mind scraps the bottom of your resentment to give his words a completely new meaning.
“You can find another girl to fuck and be your rebound, San,” more tears spill down and you wipe them away in anger but more threat to fall down so you cover your face with your hands and groan, desperate “I can't do this, especially not when I know that you know how bad I wanted you. Y-you know what you do to me San so stop—”
“I want you in my life. I don't— What? I don't want you like a rebound, I… Can we sit down and turn on a light so I can look at you when I say this?”
His words should be reassuring but they're not, the way you tend to feel unlovable around him coming up to the surface, preventing you from thinking clearly.
You can also feel his lips on yours still. It's dizzying but you manage to push yourself off the wall and pad around until you hit the switch of the warm light lamp near the couch and the apartment comes to life just like that.
He takes in the space he's never seen before, walking slowly towards the living room and looking over the bookshelf that screams your name all over it. He smiles a bit as he looks over the book titles and you look away before your heart starts acting up again.
You can't stay mad at him for long if he's looking through something so personal to you and smiling that fondly at it. It feels even more intimate than the kiss you two just shared.
Wiping your cheeks once more, you are sure you look a mess but he doesn't seem to mind it once he comes into your point of view, sitting down on the couch, in front of your standing form. He grabs you by your hands until you're sitting next to him, close to him, cologne intoxicating your senses.
“I told you I liked you when we were in highschool, right?”
You nod.
“You seemed surprised but it was dark so I'm not really sure. I thought you knew, everyone knew.”
Oh, he's a comedian.
“How would I have known, San? I… Yeri told me you liked me one time, in senior year, but I denied it. Then, my mom told me you seemed to want me in a non-platonic way and I dismissed her as well,” you take in a deep, shaky breath “For me, the thought of you liking me just didn't make sense. You loved Arin and she's… She doesn't look or act like I did back then at all, so how would I have known?”
You didn't need clues and puzzles and what if’s, you needed words and actions that weren't confusing. You needed him to tell you back then, because telling you right now and kissing you senseless after he broke up with a girl he supposedly was very in love with means nothing but pain.
“I didn't realize you liked me too,” you make a face, about to tell him off, but he interrupts “I didn't! I thought you liked Yeri and I thought you saw me as the annoying guy who wouldn't leave you alone. I only just realized it a couple years ago, because Woo told me.”
You raise your eyebrows and mutter under your breath “I'm murdering him tomorrow.”
The corner of his lips twitch before he shakes his head in dismissal of what you said “I liked you. I really, really liked you and never told a soul because… Well, it's scary when you fall in love, right?”
“San, you had no problem telling Arin, Minseo or Kyungmi that you liked them.”
He looks down to the floor, lost in thought and you want to open your mouth to take what you just said into a new direction, but you don't “Maybe that's because I didn't love them the way I love you.”
Oh.
Love you? As in… He loves you right now too?
No way.
“You didn't love me, San. You don't love me right now either, you… Maybe we both were in love with the idea of love? Maybe that's what happened and—”
“Quit telling me what I'm feeling, Y/N. You always do that, you always assume you know what I'm feeling but you don't!”
Raising your voice a little more, you try to get your point across in the worst way possible: by being stubborn “You don't know me! How can you possibly—”
“I knew you back then, Y/N! And I loved you back then, too!” He looks like wants to say something more but he doesn't, instead, he takes a calming breath and then leans into your space for the third time tonight “And I might not know you now but I want to. That's what I meant when I said that I want you. I want you in my life, I want to know the person you became when we stopped talking, I want to talk to you every single day and I want to hold you and kiss you and be by your side however you want me to, I just… I can't lose you again.”
His confession renders you speechless and you notice his chest is heaving, going up and down in sync with yours.
But the way he pulled away from you senior year still hurts, it paints a picture of what's going to happen if you accept this.
You can't believe his words.
He must feel lonely and confused, like he did when Arin broke up with him. He must be looking for a shelter you can't provide.
“And when you find another girl that's more to your liking? What then, San?”
“There's no one that I love more than you, Y/N and I'm sorry I was shit at proving it back then and I'm sorry that it took so many years for me to come to my senses.”
He's tearing up and your heart pangs absurdly loud at that.
“I saw you with Seonghwa earlier today, laughing and dancing and flirting and I thought: Oh, maybe if I didn't waste that much time pretending I'm someone I'm not, that would be me.”
You stare for a second, you watch a single tear drop down his cheek and then look away.
“Is that what you were doing? Is that why you pulled away?”
“Maybe?” he offers and you turn to him again. Is not enough and maybe he can see it in your expression, because he goes on “I mean, I… I thought I wanted Arin. I thought I wanted Minseo. I had people in my life who were really happy to see me with them and I just…”
“Wanted to keep them happy,” you nod, understanding. He doesn't have to say his mothers name for you to know he's referring to her and maybe his other highschool friends outside of Wooyoung “Were you pretending with me as well?”
“No,” he answers right away “You and Woo were the only ones who saw me for who I really was back then.”
“And why do you think you love me now, San?” you ask, deflating against the couch and ignoring the way your heart soars at his quick response.
“Because I never stopped,” he stammers out and then clears his throat “Because I looked for you in Minseo and Kyungmi and I wondered for years why they couldn't make me feel the same way. And I told myself I didn't need to feel the same way and that I deserved to wonder for the rest of my days but seeing you tonight? I can't.”
Straightening your spine, the pained look you sent in his direction is not intentional but it prompts him to lean closer and closer until he's cupping your cheek again.
“I can't keep wondering.” His voice is a sweet whisper, a siren song that draws you in until your forehead is resting against his.
All these years, you were so self-focused on changing to a better version of who he used to know, learning from your mistakes and closing off to the opportunity of letting him prove himself a better man, you forgot that time passed for him too. He’s telling you he changed, too.
Imagination is a safe space. Is where you hide, where desire can take its wings and fly high without hurting you too much. Make belief has rescued you before but this? The way his nose nuzzles softly into yours and your breaths tangle? This is very real. And reality is prone to hurt you.
But the want you feel is undeniable. The way your entire being wants to cave in and give him an opportunity is suffocating, it makes you choke out a sob that he follows with one of his own.
You kiss him, softly at the beginning, but his hands on you tighten and you let yourself get lost in the way they go down your neck and your arms, caressing you softly until they reach your waist and pull you into his lap.
Pulling away, you grab his chin with two fingers and force his teary eyes to snap open, searching for an answer on yours.
“If you hurt me,” you start, breathless “If you're mocking me, if you're using me to get over Kyungmi, if you are pulling me back in to break my heart again, Choi San, I swear to God I will kill you.”
“I won't do that to you ever again, Y/N,” he returns softly “I love you, I'm sorry if I ever hurt you but I love you.”
Others would argue that it is pathetic how quickly you forgive him. But then again, you could never be mad at San.
You were only mad at yourself for how everything turned out.
“I love you too, Sannie.”
Saying something never felt so freeing before.
“Oh, Y/N…” you can see the way relief washes his worries away “Y/N…” he starts to say but then leans in to kiss you again and never finishes his words.
You don't mind it.
Pouring out all the pent up affection you pretended to bury for years, you explore his mouth and carve into your memory the way he feels. The way he sighs into it when your tongue brushes his, the way he pulls you in closer when your fingers reach the nape of his neck and pull on his hair there, hands splayed on your back so he can keep you in place as he leans down and places you against the worn out couch.
He maps you out, hands going down your waist in a familiar feeling that brings back that memory of you two laying down on your bed. Only this time, he's actually touching you with a purpose. This time, you two have made up your minds and your limbs are tangled in a way you can feel all of him pressing up against you.
It starts to get stuffy, the space on the couch not nearly enough to have him the way you want to. Soon, you're both standing up, mouths still moving against each other and hands roaming everywhere until you're undoing the buttons on his shirt.
He pulls away to fully take it off, eyes never leaving yours, dropping the shirt to the ground, next to the couch and then he's on you again, making your back crash into the wall as he works the knots keeping your blouse together.
He walks you through the hall, stopping only to take your top off and then he's walking you to a room that has a familiar scent that doesn't belong to you.
“Wrong room, wrong room,” you say into his lips and he laughs, looking to your surroundings “Mine’s over there.” you point to the other end of the hall, taking his hand and pulling him towards it.
You don't make it far before he's yanking you towards him again. He looks down, taking your body in and you do the same, his firm and defined stomach a sight you never thought you would be able to see.
“You're so beautiful,” he whispers, backing you against the wall again and kissing your cheek “So, so beautiful.”
Turning your head to chase his mouth, he lets out a heavy sigh when his lips trail a path to your neck and murmurs against the skin there “I never told you how beautiful I found you before but you're so perfect, baby.”
“I always thought I wasn't your type, San,” you let out a noise when he grabs your hips and pulls you forward, crashing his into yours “Fuck.”
“And I always thought you were too much for me, too smart,” he kisses his way back up, focusing on your jaw and chin until he's kissing your cheek again “too pretty,” he moves to your ear, pecking right under it and you hold him closer “too good for me.”
It doesn't really matter that this is all new to you, the way he's speaking, the tenor of his voice, the things he's saying… It sparks something familiar in you. You're pulling his hair back to make him look at you, a moan slipping out of his lips at that.
You want to hear it again.
He's smiling at your reaction, hand tightening on his locks.
However, that smile drops when he seems to recognize the gleam in your eyes.
You gather up courage, feeling empowered by the way his hooded eyes darken but wait patiently for you to speak your mind.
“Maybe I'm too good for you now, too,” you lean in, your lips softly tracing his “Maybe you should prove to me that you deserve me, San.”
It's a dare. One that he seems to like a lot because his eyes sparkle with the same fire they used to back in the day.
“Oh, I'll prove it to you, alright.” He whispers, panting when you let go of his hair and he leans into you to kiss your lips briefly before pulling away again.
His hand tilts your head back and you rest it against the cold wall, his fingers touch your bottom lip before going down and down and down until they rest against the seam of your pants, unbuttoning them in one swift movement.
Going back up, his nails softly dig into your skin and you preen, taking the soft sting of his ministrations like you two have done this a million times before.
His mouth is on yours again, his hands are pulling you off the wall and into your room until you two land on your mattress with a soft tud, a moan spilling out of your lips when he sloths his knee in between your legs and pulls them apart with expertise.
You don't have the mind to break down what that means.
Opening your eyes when he kisses down your neck again, you notice your room is barely lit by the street lights outside, curtains pulled open and windows closed but, this way, you can see the way San kisses between your breasts and your belly, catching his eyes when he looks up to measure your reaction.
You sigh, already feeling some sort of build up going on down there and he hasn't even touched you properly yet.
You don't even want to think about how wet you actually are.
He leans back, open palms going down your legs slowly until they reach your feet. It tickles and you can't help but let out a giggle that he joins short after, his gaze never losing the edge because of it, though.
“San…”
He guides your hips up so he can take off your pants and you sigh when his hands return, raising your leg up “I missed your laugh,” he says low, attaching his lips to your calf “I miss being the one making you laugh too.”
You feel like crying again but then he's letting your leg down and grabbing the other one to give it the same treatment, so your tears can wait.
This time, he moves upwards till his mouth nears your clothed center and your breath hitches.
Yeah, you can definitely cry later.
“You want me to prove to you how much I want you, Y/N?” he murmurs, his lips ghosting your mound now “How much I love you?”
“San, p-please…”
“Fuck, look at you.” He sounds like he's too lost in the heat of the moment and you're kind of grateful, because the moan you let out when his fingers hook on your underwear and pull them to the side to expose your pussy to his hungry eyes is loud.
When he kisses you right where you need him, you let out another moan. And when he parts your folds to lick a stripe up to your clit, you curse him under you breath until he's laughing against you softly, the vibrations accumulating heat on your belly.
He doesn't tease you much longer and you look down at him just to catch the moment his self control slips, eating you out like a man starved while his hand stays on your hip to hold you down and keep you underwear from interrupting his feast.
“This is like,” he dives in again for a few seconds and you grab the sheets beneath you “All my fantasies coming to life but better.”
He's so chatty during this and the only thing you can do is stammer a yeah? and pray for it to reach his ears.
“Mhm,” the circles your clit with the tip of his tongue and your legs shake “Taste even better than what I dreamed, too.”
The heat of his mouth leaves you, lips spreading your wetness through your stomach until he fully reaches your face, your eyes closed and lips already waiting for him.
Tongue caressing yours, your hands trail down his torso and focus on getting his pants off. You're shaking with excitement so it proves to be more difficult than you imagined at first but he helps you in unbuckling his belt.
Once the piece of clothing is one the floor (or the bed, you're not really paying attention on where it lands), you don't waste time in feeling him up through his boxers.
The hiss you get in return makes you smile.
Bringing your lips to his neck, you suckle on this pulse point and gain another pleased noise before grazing your teeth against skin and moving to his collarbone next.
In a way, you get what he means. If he truly was pining over you the way you were pining over him, the thought of exploring his tan skin and making him moan feels like a dream.
So you kiss him again in order to make it all last longer.
The minutes pass between the both of you, softly making out and figuring out what gets both of you going, discarding your underwear in the process.
You realize your moans make San’s cock twitch against your leg and he seems to notice the way your hips buck up everytime his hands handle you more roughly.
After a few minutes of just this, you feel his hand making its way down again and the pads of his fingers circle your clit until you're grasping the sheets again. He gathers your arousal and then enters one finger slowly and when it slides in and out with ease, he enters the next one.
There's really not much prepping he needs to do, already soft and compliant under him, you relax into his comfortable touch before you're aching for something else. And your mouth is preoccupied with his, so you do something else to catch his attention.
Hands caressing his back, you let them drop to his ass with a soft smack that wins you a soft huff on amusement and then a whine when you move his hips towards yours.
“Condom?”
You shake your head “I'm clean and I have an implant.”
“Oh?” he smirks, about to tease you but you squeeze his butt again and he moans “Fuck. I'm clean too.”
“Good,” you whisper against his cheek, laughing as he arranges his position.
And he might've been touching you all this time, kissing you until your mind emptied and your lips are all swollen up, but the look on his eyes when he slowly enters you is what might drive you over the edge.
Grabbing your hands, he pins them on the side of your head as he moves, dropping his head down with a groan as you take him in, nose touching yours and moth whispering sweet things you can't quite pick up.
He feels so good.
This all feels way too good to be real.
In the cloud you're at, you allow yourself to dream a little more before the reality of what your confessions mean dawns on you.
For now, you allow San to make love to you. Sweetly, slowly and with a passion you never were lucky enough to encounter before.
Maybe it's because your previous lovers didn't have your heart the way San does.
He rams his hips into yours hard, closing his eyes and resting his warm cheek against yours, kissing your face inch by inch when you accompany his movements with your own.
When his pace picks up, you hug him close and secure your legs around his hips as you moan.
“Y-yes, fuck.”
“Like that?” he repeats the movement from before, pulling out and then in with such force it rocks the entire bed.
“Just like that, baby, fuck.”
“God, you sound so good,” you smile a little, forehead resting on his shoulder before your head falls down against your pillow again “I love you,” he repeats against your lips, letting your hands go to cup your face with both of his again “I love you so much.”
Teetering over the edge, you feel happy tears stinging in your eyes. Though closed, you can feel San’s stare on you, on your face, on the way you react to his sweet words and relentless pace.
You say it back in a whisper and he repeats it again and again and again until you're both coming and tears are spilling down your cheeks.
He kisses them away.
You wipe his with trembling fingers as you come down, having trouble breathing from everything that just happened.
You don't feel suffocated anymore, you feel like you've been freed. Like this was supposed to happen at some point and you two finally got around to it.
“I love you,” he says once more before slipping out of you with a parting kiss.
Holy shit.
When San gets up from the bed and you point him to the bathroom, down the hallway, you're left with a sticky mess in between your legs and a lot to think about but you settle on four things.
San just made love to you. There's no way that was just sex.
There's also no way you're coming back from this.
Gyuri is probably going to kill you.
And that, obviously, your feelings for San never left. You feel the familiar warmth of them spreading through your post-orgasmic state. They're there, mocking you, asking you who the fuck you thought you were for pushing them away.
He returns, toilet paper in his hands before leaning in and cleaning you up, lips immediately finding home on your skin as he does.
You both giggle at that.
You probably need to shower but you've been crying and there's no way you're leaving this bed tonight. He throws the paper away on your bedroom’s trashcan and then crashes into the bed next to you, still naked, still looking at you with so much love you're wondering what stopped you from seeing it was there before.
Taking his hand, you bring it to his lip and give his knuckles a peck “That was really good.”
“It was.”
“I can't believe we actually just did that…”
He smiles and what he says next shocks you even more than his confession “I want to take you out.”
“San… You just came inside me not even ten minutes ago.”
“And?” you laugh and he shakes his head, leaning into your space again “I spent many years doing everything wrong, let me do it the right way.”
“Making love to me one time and then taking me out on a date is not the right way, sir.”
He nuzzles your cheek with his nose and you let out a pleased sigh “Who said it was just one time, huh?” Attacking your neck with his lips again, you push him away with a laugh.
“Oh, come on!”
He laughs as well “Give me ten minutes and I'll make it two!”
San makes love to you two more times. And by four in the morning, you're snuggled into his arms and sleeping soundly.
When you wake up and find the space next to you empty, you think it was all a dream. Your naked form begs to differ and you quickly put the t-shirt you usually wear to bed on and your panties underneath it to go out and face the feelings of your actions fighting with the blender in the kitchen.
“How do you two live with this stupid thing?”
“We don't,” you answer, startling him “We don't use it. What are you trying to make?”
San’s shirtless, wearing his pants and his hair messy. Looking back at the living room clock, you see it's just five past ten.
Smiling as he approaches you, you forget you must look a mess too when he pecks your lips and barely pulls away “Good morning, beautiful.”
You pretend to cringe at that, pulling away “Oh, God. Morning, dumbass.”
“You like it, you're blushing,” he points out and the pink on your cheek deepens as he's going back to the blender “Does anything work here?”
“The microwave,” you shrug “And the stove. Were you trying to make yourself a…” you look over the ingredients he has pulled out of your fridge “Green juice?”
“I was trying to make both of us a green juice,” he corrects and your heart skips at the immediate domestic attitude he has with you “But now I can tell neither of you drink anything like it, hm? I'm buying you a blender.”
“Please don't.”
“Why?”
“Why do you think that one is broken?”
He hums, huffing out a laugh seconds later and you walk over to him, unsure on how to approach him even though what you did yesterday night and earlier this morning didn't allow your shyness to step in.
Now you're feeling it.
He can tell, because he stops fighting with the steel appliances to grab your waist and pull you close “I wanted to make you breakfast.”
“We can make breakfast together and I can order your green juice,” you compromise and he nods, but he doesn't let you go “And later we can go out on that date you promised me yesterday and we can go over what we're going to tell the two idiots.”
His smile drops.
“Oh, fuck.”
Grimacing, you nod “It was the second thing I thought about after waking up.”
“What was the first?”
“Oh, I was trying to remember if you ever asked me to dance before,” he nods with a smile “Guess what? You didn't.”
He fake gasps at that “I did!”
“No, you didn't!”
“Babe, yes I did,” he insists and you laugh, which prompts him to wrap his hands around you tighter when you try to get away from him “It was when—”
“Oh. My. God. I'm going to be sick again.”
Now when the fuck did Gyuri come back.
And why is Wooyoung with her too, jaw slack as he watches both of you pull away from each other and create a safe distance that doesn't help whatever your best friends just saw.
“It worked?” he asks and you can barely hear him until he hollers like a crazy person “Oh, it worked! I am a genius!”
“Wooyoung, hold me! I'm going to kill them!” Gyuri looks like she's about to launch towards you at any second now, so you close your eyes and accept your fate. But nothing happens “Wait— What worked?”
When you open them again, San is hiding behind you and Gyuri’s back is to both of you as she looks at Wooyoung with, what you assume, murderous intentions.
“Gyuri, let's talk about this,” the black haired guy puts his hands up “You were too drunk to discuss it so I made the choice of— Gyuri, no!”
You burst into laughter when she starts chasing him around the apartment and San giggles as well, only more nervous than delighted by their little cat and mouse game.
He's probably sensing he's next on her hit list.
As if you would let anything happen to him in the first place.
“Stop, stop! I'm sorry, please leave me alone!” you hear Wooyoung’s voice echoing through your hall and in a second he's entering the kitchen, rounding you and San “I'm so happy for you guys, really, this was meant to happ— Stop!” He cries when Gyur catches onto him and yanks his hair to stop him from running.
“Y/N,” she starts, chest heaving and you take a step back, crashing into San’s chest. He holds onto you only to push you a little and protect himself from the fury of your best friend “When I told you fuck him I didn't meant this!”
“I know.”
Wooyoung whines but he can't get away from her grasp so he just accepts it and pouts like a child.
“A-and you!” She points towards the guy resting his chin on your shoulder “How dare you! If this is something casual for you then—”
“I love her.” He defends himself quickly and your heart all but stops at that.
“You do?” Wooyoung coos, amazed at his best friend’s confession.
Gyuri's anger falters at that.
“You… You do?”
“And I love him,” you let out in a shy whisper, smiling a bit “But you already knew that.”
“Of course I already knew that, bitch, I am your other half,” she makes a point to stare at San as she says it, letting Wooyoung go and he massages the part of his scalp that was targeted by his ex “Don't forget that.”
“Y-yes ma'am.”
You laugh again and Woo joins the embrace, eyeing you both expectantly and rolling his eyes when neither of you say anything to him “Well, you are so welcome guys. What are we having for breakfast?”
You and San don't get to go out on that date.
But when you do, he asks you to be his girlfriend the next day.
And when you say yes he almost breaks down in excited tears.
Eventually, even Gyuri comes around and threatens him into treating you right, which means he earned her seal of approval.
You delete the document on your laptop when you find it a month into being his girlfriend and, instead, start drafting your new beginning on it, in first person this time because the story doesn't feel like it belongs to someone else now.
The first line read as it follows:
How did I ever think San and I could be just friends?
If you read all the way down here: THANK YOU SO MUCH. Any feedback would be greatly appreciated!
© jensthwa, 2024.
#ateez imagines#ateez x reader#ateez smut#choi san x reader#choi san smut#san smut#san x reader#san imagines#san x you#san x y/n#ateez angst#ateez fluff#bff wooyoung
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Pairing: Yoo Kihyun x fem reader
Summary: “So,” he sighed, cutting you off again, “am I just a good fuck for you then?”
Warning: Mature! 18+ you have been warned
Genre: Fluffy smut
A/N: Read at your own risk and if you choose to read please feel free to give feedback and request. Also, I did not proofread any of this, I wrote a while back and was reading through my drafts and found this and decided to post it cause, why the fuck not. I miss MONSTA X. I also post with phone wallpapers I made for each storyline, feel free to use them if you like. Please, do enjoy 😊
“What the hell are you doing here?” You asked the man sitting on your couch as you clutched your chest in surprise. You’d just walked in the door, thinking you be able to think about your future.
He sighed and stood up “what do you think,” he started, “I’ve been looking for you everywhere.”
“For what, we’re not a couple, remember?” You cut him off with a scoff.
“All that changed when I found out.” He stated angrily.
“Found out what, Kihyun, we broke it off, a week ago-” You started
“But your pregnant, right.” He stated matter of factly cutting you off.
You froze and stared at him, “How’d I find out?” Kihyun asked the question you were thinking, “this,” he pulled out a positive pregnancy test and tossed it on the table, “I found it in the master bedroom at the condo. I went back to clean things up before selling it. Why didn’t you tell me? I had to search high and low to find you, is this why you wanted to stop? Is this why you broke it off.”
You sighed and dropped your head, “We’re not a couple, this was supposed to be a no strings attached thing. It was an accident, it wasn’t-”
“Accidentally or not,” he cut you off, “I had to find out this way. Why didn’t you tell me-,”
“Tell you for what,” you yelled, “so you can tell me to get rid of it!”
“You know me better than that,” he yelled back, you watched as tears formed in his eyes, “yes, we’ve been fucking for over a year,” a tears slipped from his eyes as he blinked and lowered his voice, “regardless of that, why didn’t you tell me, when you know I’d be glad to have a family.”
“We don’t love each other,” you stated, “we get our fill and go our separate ways.”
“That’s a lie,” he countered, “how many nights did we spend together talking without the sex? Did we not tell secrets?” He was laying down facts.
“It doesn’t matter now,” you replied, “it’s gone.”
“It’s gone?” Kihyun asked, hoping it wasn’t what he thought it was.
“I got rid of it.” You said, “I’m not ready for a kid.”
Kihyun dropped his head and fell silent, he was hurt, but deep down he knew he had to respect your decision because it was your body. He took a deep breath and decided it would be best to just leave. He took a step and almost tripped, you instinctively reached out a hand to catch him, but he snatched away from you and left without saying another word.
This, this thing that you both had was good and bad. You both stumbled upon each other by chance at a very small bar you had begun to frequent, he was alone and you. Both of you shared a drink or two and exchanged stories, which led to sleeping together. Hoping it was a one time thing, you let it go at that. But you ran into each other a few more times and then decided to just use each other as a way to find some relief in this world of madness.
Relief with no string attached, he bought the place and you both paid the extra expenses to keep this good thing going. It was so good it last well over a year. So good that after one night of drinking and talking you both went at each other with no protection. But really, the only thing you lacked, that couples shared was, the dates and introducing each other to your friends and family. Let’s or forget to mention the fact that you only meet up in the late evenings and night. But this was something hidden in plan sight.
You sighed and sat down on your couch and rested your hands in your hair for a brief moment and then reaching out and grabbing the pregnancy test off the table and placing a hand on your stomach. You lied to him, it was still with you, meaning you hadn’t made up your mind on rather or not to keep it or to get rid of it.
Another sigh passed your lips as you put the test down and stood up. This was just too much at one time for you, you were thinking, how’d he find out where you live? Neither of you had ever been to the others house, so how in the fuck did he find you? You abruptly threw the test against the wall in aggravation, shattering it into pieces. With that being enough for the night, you decided to just sleep, sleep would be the best stress relief. But sadly for you it didn’t come so easily.
To be honest, you couldn’t fall asleep properly for a week. And that was because by then you’d started the early symptoms of pregnancy. So that being said you kept it, it became her, your baby had grown to be a year old. But it wasn’t easy, the sleepless nights and constantly feeling like you weren’t a fit mother plagued you some days. But still you toughed it out and held your head up all while working to keep a steady flow of income.
That being said, today was one of those tough days, you had meetings back to back and you’d kept getting calls from your sitter, who kept saying she had to leave. But you had to complete this one last meeting before running off, for the day. It had gotten dark out, one more and your out. You took a deep breath before walking into the conference room, telling yourself it wouldn’t take long. There were only three people, plus you and your two team members and your boss. Easy right?
The moment you turned away from the board to introduce yourself, you froze at the sight of Kihyun sitting at the table glaring at you. Ah fuck, be cool sis. You cleared your throat and started the meeting as if he wasn’t there. It went smoothly because you didn’t look at him because you knew that if you did, you stumble over your words and that wouldn’t be good for anybody.
Once the meeting came to and everyone exited the conference room, spilling out into the hallway. They were conversing while you were trying to get away. The moment you began walking away from the crowd, you felt a light tap on your shoulder. You turned around, it was your sitter, she was frowning.
“Ms. Y/L/N,” she started handing you your little girl who smiled at you, “I’ve called your phone many times and you didn’t answer.”
“I’m sorry,” you apologized, “I’ll pay you extra,” you promised, “I’ve had meetings all day and I left my phone at my desk.” You apologized again after she complained about being late to hang out with her friends. She still agreed to come back the next day to babysit.
You sighed after she left and looked at child with a smile, “Let’s go Ki, mommy misses you.” You tossed her in the air a little making her giggle as if it’s the funny thing in the word. You kissed her cheek and started walking back to your desk to gather your things.
On your way out of the building, you froze at the sight of Kihyun sitting waiting on you. He approached you glancing between you and the child, you knew he wanted an explanation so, you spoke first.
“Let’s go somewhere and talk.” You suggested looking at your baby and then back at him, “it’s a little chilly out here, I don’t want her to get sick.”
Kihyun nodded and followed after you, to a small cafe. He didn’t say anything, he just stared at the little girl with eyes like his. He couldn’t fix his lips to say anything, he felt that he’d cry if he did.
“I’m sorry,” you apologized, “I lied. I was lost and scared. I hurt you and I didn’t even think about your feelings at all. I was being selfish.”
“Why…….why didn’t you call me,” he started slowly, “you-,” he paused and looked away as he took at deep breath to control his emotions, “she looks just like me.” He stated the obvious. His eyes held longing.
You stood up abruptly and placed her in his lap, she immediately smiled at him and started baby babbling to him. A tear escaped his eyes as he finally smiled at his child, he apologized to her for not being there but that wasn’t his fault.
“Hi, I’m your dad.” He spoke softly as a small grin finally graced his face.
She giggled and stood up in his lap, before randomly giving giving him what was meant to be a kiss but ended up being a cheek full of baby drool. Kihyun let out a small yell as shock took over his face.
“You’re feisty.” He said looking at her with wide eyes, holding her a little distance from his face, to keep from her from doing it again, “where do we go from here?” He asked you.
“We can start slow,” you answered, “come and see her whenever you want, just let me know ahead of time.”
He agreed, you both slowly caught up that night, talking mainly about your child. At some point it felt like nothing happened as you two conversed back and forth like old times. Eventually you both parted ways, but he came by every chance he got. He wanted to see her as much as he could. And you, my dear, was fine with that.
A month turned into two and with it, you might as well say you were living together. Because somehow, Kihyun had begun to spend nights and days at your place, going so far as to leave some of his things there. Well ma’am, this was going on the third month, you woke up in a hurry. Both of you did.
Scrabbling to get dressed and ready for work, the sitter would arrive at any minute. You tossed your earrings in your purse as Kihyun fought with his necktie. He swore as you made your way over and helped him quickly. He kissed your cheek and said thanks. You paused after a second to realize what had just transpired. While Kihyun was oblivious to what he’d just done.
You opened your mouth to say something but the front door opened and your sitter walked in. You spoke to her hurriedly, trying to explain to her what was where and why, when Kihyun spoke cutting you off briefly.
“Good morning,” he greeted the sitter as he kissed the top of the babies head, “I’m leaving now honey, I’ll see you later tonight,” he spoke to you, “I’m going to be late, their so much going on. Bye.”
He full on pecked you lips before leaving, you stood there in a little shocked, the sitter grinned thinking it was cute.
“Stop that,” you told her, “we’re not together,” you explained, “what the hell is wrong with him?”
“Nothings wrong with him,” your sitter smirked, “what’s wrong with you?” She pointed and picked up your kid before walking away leaving you a little shook.
The day progressed slowly and as dinner time rolled around, you realized you’d be seeing Kihyun earlier than anticipated because your companies agreed to have a dinner gathering. I mean there was a joint project going on.
But all things were good and dandy as you sat at the large table alone scrolling on your phone looking at cute clothes to order for your baby. The chair beside you slid out and you looked up into Kihyun’s face.
“Oh that adorable.” He pointed out, taking a seat, he himself pulled his phone out to show you something he’d found, “take a look at this one,” he showed you as you leaned over to get a better look, “yellow would be so cute on her right?”
“Yes,” you answered, “adding a little bow would be to die for.” He swiped away from the item and you caught a glimpse of matching family wear. You sighed before speaking, it was just the two of sitting at the table anyway, “Kihyun,” you called his name and he looked at you curiously, “why’d you kiss me this morning?”
He thought for a second, “I don’t remember kissing you.” He honestly replied with a small shake of his head.
You were about to speak but was cut off by the sudden chatter of the others coming to join. You smiled and so did he but he didn’t miss the look of pure annoyance when a guy you work with made an appearance. He wasn’t working on the project so why was he there? To make matters worse, he sat next to you and Kihyun didn’t miss you rolling your eyes and letting out a low huff.
Halfway through dinner, when everyone was talking about dating, for some fucking reason. Your coworkers brought up the fact that you and said annoying coworker were both single. It was as if they were trying to hook you up with him. But as if on cue, Kihyuns coworkers also pointed out him and another guy being single and asked you which of the men you’d pick.
“I have a whole cute little baby girl,” you smartly answered, “I don’t think any one can top that.”
The table erupted with laughter, but the question was reiterated, almost as if they were pressing for an answer. But none came, so everyone went back to chatting about whatever. It was almost over when you let out a small sigh. As you did, Kihyun put his cup down after drinking from it, he got a little food on his sleeve.
Now bitch, as if on instinct, you reached over and started cleaning his sleeve with a paper towel. He smirked as you two started exchanging whispers. You made a remark about your child being clumsy and he giggled before saying that she got it from you. After a small bit of playful back and forth, you felt a tap on your shoulder, with that, your smile dropped as you turned to see what your coworker wanted.
“What’s so funny?” He asked looking between the two of you, “do you two know each other?” He added when he saw the look on both your faces.
“None of your business.” You answered coldly.
He smirked “Don’t be like that Y/N, you know how I feel about you.” He added.
You rolled your eyes, “I’ve told you no multiple times.” You flat out rejected him.
He sighed and went to speak, but you stood up and excused yourself to the restroom. Or more like to get some air, outside you stood taking a deep breath. The sudden presence beside was only one person.
“Are you alright?” Kihyun asked taking in your tired demeanor.
“I’m fine,” You replied, “I just wanna go home to our little cutie.” You looked at him and smiled a little.
“Honey,” he called you sweetly and unknowingly as pulled you into a hug, “the day will be done in no time, it’s almost over.”
“You just did it again.” You remarked pulling away from him.
He looked at you and for a second as shock took over his face, he apologized. Just as he did, your coworker appeared, he completely ignored Kihyun as he spoke directly to you.
“Are you okay,” he asked, “I don’t want anyone bothering the things I like.”
“Funny,” you huffed, “bye.”
You walked away and went back inside, after sometime of drinking a little bit, you could finally go home. But good old Kihyun offered you a ride in his car because, I mean of course you weren’t driving in that state. Him being caring and looking good while he was doing so brought back memories and with memories came feelings….the feelings brought up a flame, that you thought was put out and away. But no, this flame had begun to burn.
So imagine Kihyun’s expression when he tried to get you into his to take you home. You stopped him and pulled him closer by his tie and took a deep breath. Damn he smelled good.
“Y/N,” he bargained, “stop, this isn’t fair.”
“Why not,” you urged as one of your legs slowly moved up and around his waist, “you want it, just as much as I do,” your hand wrapped around his neck, pulling him even closer as you whispered in his ear, “I’ve missed you, I still remember everything about you. Especially your touch, please, burn me up, like only you know how.”
By now, he’d pulled away enough to lock eyes with you. So close to his lips and wanting so bad to taste them, you kissed him gently, but quickly.
“Y/N, you always like to tease,” he stated, by his tone, you knew he had folded, but he was holding back, “now isn’t the place for this.”
You scoffed and pulled away from him, opening the door to the back seat, you pulled him inside like some kind of alluring sagacious succubus. Once the door closed, you climbed on top of him and embraced him in a kiss as you wrapped your arms around his neck.
It didn’t take but a moment for Kihyuns hands to find your bra and undo it. He took off easily as he felt you up and down leaving no parts of you untouched. His hands cup your face he kissed you gently, damn you both were in a trance.
“Why are you doing this to me?” Kihyun muttered pulling away to get some air.
But you didn’t want to breathe, so you instead kissed his neck while his hands played in your hair. You began began to grind on him, feeling how hard he was through his pants, that had long since become uncomfortably tight. You wanted it, you wanted to feel him and experience his sinfulness.
You took it upon yourself to pull his member out and push your panties to the side. You slipped down onto him and let out a soft moan and a whimper. Fuck you missed him you thought as you buried your face into his neck again as his hands found your waist. He let out low grunts as you rode him steady and slow.
Damn you hadn’t been this needy in a long ass time. You let out a shaky “fuck,” you were so tight around him as he filled up. Your legs trembled the moment you felt his grip on your waist tighten as he started fucking up into you.
You wanted to let out a loud moan but stopped yourself by covering your mouth, luckily Kihyun pulled you into a kiss and slowed down his pace just in time. Outside, a group of people were walking and stopped at a car nearby.
Kihyun’s hand found the back of neck, he pulled away as he kept bouncing you up and down on his cock slowly as to not draw attention. All the while he’d locked eyes with you. Your face was scrunched up in pure bliss as you bit your bottom lip.
“Don’t make one fucking sound.” Kihyun lowly gritted out, making you take all of him. He kissed you and slapped you cheek before gripping your chin with his free hand, “fuck me,” he demanded, kissing you again, you did but couldn’t take how hard he was, “take all it,” he ordered thrusting into hard making you let out a soft muffled whimper.
You did the best you could, taking all of his stiff cock, he let go of your neck and your head fell backwards. You were about to come, so you put your hand over your mouth to stop the sound from coming out. You couldn’t see where the group of people were standing and they couldn’t see you but by the sound of their voice, they were close.
You legs began to shake and your body began to tremble, you wanted to stop. But Kihyun had other ideas, he again gripped your waist. Holding you in place, he kept thrusting into you hard, deep and slow. Until you creamed on him and your body began to convulse. Tears streamed down your cheeks, you wanted to moan, Kihyun knew that. So he kissed hard and let you go just as the group of people outside began walking away.
As the did, his slow thrust turned into a quick rough fuck that made you moan and grip his shirt for dear life “Take it,” he stated, “look what you made me do,” he gritted fucking you harder.
Kihyun’s grip remained tight as he used one had to rub your clit. He fucked you into another orgasm as he came finally, you panted as you shivered. Kihyun shoved you off of him, out of breath himself. You both fixed yourselves quickly, regardless of how fucked out you were. You stayed in the backseat as Kihyun got into the drivers seat. By his demeanor, you knew this wasn’t over………..
When you woke the next morning, you were baffled as you recounted the events of last night. Finally you sat upright in bed and looked around, why was it so quiet? You hurriedly jumped out of bed and rushed into the living room.
You were meet with the sight of your sitter watching tv on low volume as your baby slept quietly. She looked at you puzzled and confused as to why you woke up distraught and running through your apartment like that. When you asked where Kihyun was, she informed you that he’d left very early as he was the one to call her in so early.
You checked the time, damn it was a little passed nine. Letting out a sigh, you knew you needed to talk to him. So you pulled out your phone and was met with his voicemail. You shot him a text and quickly got dressed for work. You kissed your kid on the way out and made it to work.
You were instantly asked a million questions as to where you disappeared off too and with whom. You managed to lie your way out of the conversations and went right to preparing for the meeting you had later that day.
The time rolled around and you checked your phone for what felt like the millionth time, Kihyun still hadn’t answered or text back. You huffed and cursed at him in your head as you walked into the conference room to girlish giggles and flirting.
You looked up, Kihyun, the culprit of why you had an attitude, was chatting it up with a girl from your department. The stack of files you were holding, somehow managed to slam down on the table loud enough to startle the two.
“What the hell are you doing?” You asked without thinking.
“He was just showing me a cute picture,” she answered, not realizing you were talking to Kihyun, “you want to see?” She offered.
“No thank you.” You declined and plopped down in a seat. She shrugged and went back to gushing and giggling over whatever it was on his phone. With frustration you huffed and went about flipping through files and slamming down paperwork………Bitch don’t be jealous.
“Ms. Y/L/N are you okay?” She asked you full of concern. You went to speak, but someone called her out into the hallway, leaving you and Kihyun alone.
You stared at him as he started flipped through paperwork of his own, almost ignoring your existence. You frowned and huffed and just as you went to start swearing, the annoying guy coworker came into the room. Now it was Kihyun’s turn to get jealous, his was instantly though.
“Y/N,” the guy started sitting on the edge of the table looking down at you, ignoring the fact that Kihyun was in the room, “I was worried last night after you walked away,” you looked at him and it took everything in you not to roll your eyes, “I really like you, please, just go out with me just once.”
From the corner of your eye, you saw the quick look of anger on Kihyun’s face. But you weren’t one to play games. You sighed and stood up finally and took a step back.
“No thank you,” you answered calmly , “I’ve told you, I’m not interested,” you sighed and turned to walk away.
“Y/N,” he called your name as he grabbed your arm. He pulled you closer and began speaking lowly, so Kihyun wouldn’t hear, “I don’t think you understand. Go out with me and I’ll make sure you get a promotion and a raise. Why work hard when you can do it easily.”
This prick, all while speaking had begun snaking an arm around your waist and pulling you even closer, “I mean your really pretty, even with a bastard kid.”
That part, Kihyun heard, the book he was writing in somehow flew across the room and hit the guy in the back of the head. You shoved away from him and slapped him as hard as you could. All of these actions occurred simultaneously and quickly. You wanted to claw his eyes out, but Kihyun wanted him to bleed.
Thankfully what kept him from getting his ass whooped at that very moment was the others coming in, all them being very loud and chatty. Someone asked what was going on, but the guy dismissed himself and returned shortly. You rolled your eyes and sat down, you were pissed and annoyed beyond belief.
Alas the meeting went smoothly, despite the icy look that Kihyun was giving the asshole. It was during this meeting that you learned that he’d be joining the project and that he was paired up to work with you. It was already decided by the higher ups, leaving you no room for any say in the matter.
Two week later with more of Kihyun ignoring you, the only time you saw him was at work and briefly at home. He’d stop by to see y’all’s kid when you were out and then leave, claiming he was too busy to talk.
Adding to the fact that you had to work with the asshole. Whom you kept at arms length at all times, if it wasn’t at work around people or even about work for that matter. You kept interaction with him at bare minimum.
Well bitch, again, another company dinner was planned at you had no choice but to attend. You walked into the restaurant venue and instantly spotted Kihyun sitting at a table with the same woman from the other day, giggling it up.
You walked over and sat down on the other side of him and the moment you did, she got up and left, mumbling something about your attitude being bad lately. Kihyun scrolled through his phone, again ignoring you.
You huffed and tapped his shoulder, “What’s your problem?” You asked when he finally sat his phone down and looked at you.
“Be honest with me Y/N.” He started cutting straight to the point, “what do you see me as.”
“It’s hard to place,” you answered honestly “I couldn’t place my feelings about you into any specific category before.”
“So,” he sighed, cutting you off again, “am I just a good fuck for you then?”
“No, it’s not like that-,” you tried.
“So, you have no emotional attachment to me at all.” He cut you off.
“Kihyun,” you fumed “what do you want me to say? If I don’t see you, I get mad. If you don’t say anything I get worried. I hate seeing you sad and upset! Most importantly, damn it, why are always laughing and talking to her?”
“Why are you upset about it?”
“Because you’re making me feel complicated and fucking confused.” You huffed.
He went to speak but a certain person’s presence stopped him. The prick sat on the other side of you and throughout the entire dinner, you were doing a solid job of ignoring him and not dragging Kihyun out the door to yell at him.
You thought you were completely safe until…..
“Y/N,” a coworker called your name as you sat down your cup after taking a sip of water, you hummed at her in response, “why are you two not dating yet?”
You choked on invisibility because excuse me what the fuck, “I’m fine,” you choked out, “we’ve talked about this already guys.”
Instinctively Kihyun handed you your water and patted your back. He followed up by giving you a paper towel and asking if you were okay. Your coworker pricks hand somehow, someway thought that it would a good idea to put his hand on your leg.
Kihyun had turned his full attention towards the man, while everyone else was conversing oblivious to what was happening. Before you could reach over and shove his hand off, Kihyun did it for you. When your coworker looked in your direction, he was met with a glare Yoo Kihyun.
“Let’s get out of here,” you whispered to Kihyun noting how visibly pissed he was becoming.
It take but a moment to get him outside, the moment you thought you were in the clear, Kihyun went on a full rant.
“Who,” he started passing back and forth in front of you, “who the fuck is he? Huh? What right does he have to touch those legs…..my legs,” he pointed at your legs, and made an up and down motion with his hand “I should’ve punched him in the face instead of throwing a book across the room. Ugh! Also,” he redirected his thoughts towards you, “what are you wearing that skirt anyway, I thought I hid it.”
“You’re the one that hid it,” you cut him off, pointing a finger, “this is one of my favorite skirts.”
“Mines too, that’s why I hid it, you look too damn good in it!” He huffed.
“So, that’s the purpose!” You countered
“To look good for other guys or is it for yourself?” He asked.
“It’s your favorite color, you do the math.” You folded your arms and took a step towards him.
“It’s f-for me,” he stuttered out, lowering his voice the moment you got in his face, “well when you put it that way,” he cleared his throat, “I’m sorry for hiding it.”
You went to speak but was cut off by the sound of your name being called. You took a step back from Kihyun to see who it was. Low and behold it was the prick from work. You both sighed and swore. You told Kihyun not to say a word. But, he can only hold back so much aggression.
“Is he bothering you?” He asked gesturing toward Kihyun, who’s hands were on his hip.
“It’s none of your business, take a hint and leave me alone.”
You took a step and he stopped you, “why are you being difficult?” He asked.
You went to speak, but Kihyun cut in, he looked at your coworker and scoffed “Are you deaf, she said get lost.”
“I think you’re the one who should get lost.” He demanded.
This side of Kihyun, you’d only seen once and you didn’t want to see him like that again. You noted how his ears had begun to turn red. So you grabbed his hand “Nope,” you started, “not today.”
“Baby,” Kihyun started raising his voice a little, “this man, is bothering you and me, at this point-,”
“So what,” you went back at him, “that doesn’t mean start a riot.”
“Says who,” he yelled finally pulling his hand away as he expressed himself, “you can’t stop me.”
“Ummm, Yes I can!” You frowned.
“Ha,” he laughed at you, “how, you can’t even tell Y/baby’s/N to stop throwing her food.”
“Hey,” you yelled back, “she’s stubborn because of you!”
“I’m not stubborn!” He huffed.
“Than what are you being right now?” You asked.
“Being protective over my wife!” He yelled with his whole chest.
“I’m not your wife!” You stated.
“Then marry me already!”
“We’re already married!” You replied
It fell silent as you both registered the entire conversation or argument….
“Y/N, Kihyun…” you heard your names being called and looked up. Both of groups of coworkers all stood there stunned at what they had just heard.
“This is your fault!” You yelled at Kihyun, for no reason.
“How,” he countered, “it’s his fault to sticking his nose in our business.” He pointed.
“That’s bullshit,” you countered, “you’re the one that hid my fucking skirt and gave me the silent treatment for two damn week!”
“Honey,” Kihyun started after sighing again, ignoring everything else you said, “stop swearing, pretty lips shouldn’t curse.”
“These are my lips!”
“But they’re shaped like our little angels.” He stated matter of factly
“What you going to do about it,” you tested his patience like a dumbass, “ass, bitch fuck shit motherfucker!”
He just started at you with a unreadable expression for all of two seconds before you took off running. He called after you, apologized to everyone and then chased you down the street, leaving everyone shocked, speechless and confused…….
No shit, when he finally caught you, you begged for forgiveness as he picked you up and carried you to your apartment and took you to your bedroom. Where, let’s just say, he fixed your potty mouth.
Sometime later you both were sitting in the bathtub. Kihyun was sitting behind playing with you hands, while you rested you head in his chest. It was quiet for a while, then he sighed and you looked up at him.
“This is going to be fun to explain in the morning,” He started.
“Wanna just say we kept it a secret to keep our work separated from our personal lives?” You asked.
“Yeah,” he agreed as you stood up to get out of the tub, “sounds like a good idea.” he added getting out of the tub as well.
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🥺 I need a hug now
ONE OF A KIND.

Felix x reader. (s,f)
Synopsis: When you live in a small island there’s nothing more exciting than meet a new man in town, Felix. It’s getting more peculiarly nostalgic as if you feel like you’ve known him for years. (12,7k words)
Author's note: Last one of my One series and I'm sorry?
Out of all the days in the week, your favorite is Friday.
Not because you're working a 9 to 5 job and the next day after that is the weekend.
You like Friday because you like how everyone seems to be more relaxed on that particular day. It's a day you choose to do everything you wanted to do.
You wake up to the sound of the waves crashing from afar and the sound of the wind-chime you hang in your window, you look out to see the glimmering surface of the sea blinding you.
As the smell of the ocean fills your nostrils, you can tell that it is going to be a good day.
The warm shower washes your sleep away and you pick your favorite summer dress from the closet. Blue like the sky with tiny white roses dotted the fabric and it fits you perfectly.
It's always sunny on this island, it's so small that you can go anywhere with your bike and you know it like the back of your hand, but that's why you like it.
It feels like your small private island.
The first thing to do is visit your sister's bakery for breakfast.
Your choice will always be the cinnamon roll and just from the smell alone, already make you salivate. But what makes cinnamon rolls taste so good and leave you wanting more is the sweetness of the glaze which is made from cream cheese, confectioners' sugar, warm butter, and vanilla extract with a hint of salt.
It's sweet and savory, the perfect treat to start your day with.
"Coffee?" Your sister offers.
"I'll get it myself," you say, going behind the counter to prepare a cup of coffee for yourself.
"Be careful, it's hot!" Your sister warns like she already knew you're about to touch the wrong side of the coffee pot.
You chuckle at the sheer luck, "thank you!"
Carefully, you pour the hot coffee into your cup and before you can get it to the table, a customer enters the place and walks up to the counter to order.
Your sister is in the back kitchen, probably getting a fresh batch of bakery out of the oven. It's not a loss to help her even though it's your day off.
He smiles as soon as you face him, a kind smile, not a flirty one, but one that you rarely get especially in the morning when people haven't gotten caffeine in their system yet.
"Good morning!"
"Morning!" He greets back without looking at you.
"Can I help you?"
He looks at you for a few more seconds as if to wait for you to offer something else than coffee or bread.
After a moment, he finally comes up with an order, "I'd like a cup of latte."
It surprises you how his voice doesn't sound like it belongs to him. It's deep and low, in contrast to his pretty features and slim figure.
"One latte!" You repeat and add it to the till machine.
He saunters to the display counter filled with all kinds of bakery goods and a selection of cakes.
"And... one pain au chocolat," he adds.
A chuckle escapes your mouth.
"Something funny?" He asks with a confused smile.
You feel bad for the way you behaved, making it seems like you make fun of him, "I'm sorry, it's just that people usually called it a chocolate croissant," you explain with an apologetic smile.
"It's the first time someone addressed it by its French name, huh?"
"I'm sorry. I feel bad for laughing," you apologize again with your head down, can't look him in the eyes.
"That's alright," he assures you.
"Anything else?"
"That's it!" He says.
You calculate everything and inform him how much he should pay, take the money and hurriedly hand him the change.
He waits by the end of the counter for his order and you make sure that you get it right, you don't need another embarrassing moment to share with him.
You slide the tray with his order to him, "Enjoy!" You keep it short then run to the back with your coffee and cinnamon rolls.
You're planning on spending the morning drawing a thing or two before you start cycling around the island.
"May I sit here?" Someone asks.
You glance to see the man who spoke little French earlier with his coffee cup in hand.
You consider it for a little while but he doesn't seem like the type to chat a lot, you shrug and gesture for him to sit.
"Thank you," he mutters with another gentle smile and sits across from you.
With the morning sunlight shining through the window, you can see the freckles on his face, like God sprinkled the stars on his face.
He pulls out a book from his bag, you can't see the title since he puts the book down on the table, reading it quietly with his eyes and the beautiful eyelashes that rest along his eyelids.
That makes your head wander off without you intending to. You remind yourself to hurry up and take out your journal from your bag. Nothing makes you feel more excited than a new, clean page.
You look around for anything to draw and see magpies perching on the tree across the street.
In the middle of it though you wonder why your journal seems so empty despite you feeling like you have drawn a lot of things in it.
You take a bite of your cinnamon rolls and a sip of your coffee after.
"You like drawing?" He suddenly asks.
You are too busy drawing and didn't notice he has been watching you. It's too late to hide it now, you decide to let the journal open, then answer him, "yes."
"I like that one," he points to the drawing on the previous page.
You smile and look at it, "it's a drawing of the sunset on the hill."
"The hill?"
You nod, "have you been there?"
"No," he shortly answers.
You take a look at him again and get this feeling that he feels so oddly familiar but you swear you have never seen him before.
"Have we met before?" You dared yourself to ask.
He pauses for a moment and closes his book, "No, I'm new in town."
He puts his book into his bag, "why?"
You awkwardly chuckle and rub your chin nervously, "I don't know why but I feel like I have seen you before."
"Ah!" He nods, "maybe you have seen me around before."
"Maybe," you vaguely answer but that's plausible since it's a small town anyway. You decide to pick up your pencil and continue drawing.
"How long have you been living here?" He asks out of the blue.
"All my life," you answer.
"That means you know everything about this island?"
"I guess I can confidently say yes to that," you answer with a polite smile.
He sips his drink, "Actually, I haven't gone around much," he says.
He leans forward on the table, "I wonder if you can show me around?"
You snort in response.
And just like he knows you thought he was joking he quickly adds, "I'll pay for the service, of course!"
He is serious and he's willing to pay you just to be his tour guide for the day. You make a quick observation and assess it in your head, that he seems smart, polite, and warm, as warm as the morning sun feels on your skin that morning.
There's no harm in taking a sudden job offer, consider this killing two birds with one stone even though you're not that keen on killing animals for that matter.
"Why me?"
He shrugs, "because you are a true local, there's no one who knows this town better than a local," he eloquently answers with that kind smile.
You call it a kind smile because there's no hint of malice in it, just pure kindness like he was born into the world with a smile like an angel.
He's a decent man with no intentions to harm you, that kind smile assures you that.
You chuckle at his remark, "then you should hire the chief, not me."
"I've seen the chief, he's not my type," he jokes with a low laugh.
"And I am your type?" You joke back.
"A beautiful girl like you is my type," he innocently answers like he's prepared that answer beforehand.
You laugh at how straightforward he is and that is enough proof that he's not from this town.
"I can show you a few places," you say while calculating how many places can you visit in one day.
"A few places is enough," he says.
You close your journal and put your pencil back into its case, "can you ride a bicycle?"
He props a hand under his chin, "as far as I remember, yes," he answers.
After telling him that the two of you will be riding the bicycle, you're going to the back of the shop to borrow your sister's bike to lend to the new guy in town.
It comes to your realization that you haven't introduced yourself to him, you bring the bike to him, then introduced yourself.
He holds his hand out at you with that sweet smile on his face, "I'm Felix," he introduces himself.
The moment your hand touches his, you get a funny feeling that resembles something like reuniting with an old friend. You clearly mistake it and decide to laugh it off.
"Get ready!" You quickly hold the handlebars of your bike.
"So, what is our first destination?" He asks, following you and walking the bike to the front of the bakery.
You get on your bike and look over your shoulder at him "we're going to see the stars," you answer with a sly smile.
"Stars? But it's only 9 am!" He says, perplexed.
You ride your bike at a much slower pace since you're guiding someone for a trip around the town and the first destination is close enough that there's no need to rush.
"The observatory?" He asks with a raised eyebrow.
You nod and parked your bike on the available spot, then help him with his.
The head of security of this place is a regular at the bakery, you know his order by heart, half a dozen of glazed donuts and a cup of coffee with two sugars and cream.
He always reminds you to come to the observatory and you're more than happy to come here every day but let's not be inconsiderate because this man works there and you may get him in trouble.
"Don't get your hopes up, we're not going to the observatory," you tell him as he follows you to enter a building.
"But we're going to the planetarium," you add before he gets disappointed, pointing to the other building in the vicinity.
Someone stops you from entering the place with your hand already holding the handle of the door, "I'm sorry miss, but the planetarium only opens to the public on the weekends," he says.
If you haven't seen him before that means he's probably new security. You softly laugh and calmly explain, "I understand that you don't know me but can you tell Mr. Park that it's me coming to the planetarium?"
He stands between you and the door to the planetarium, "I'm sorry, miss, I can't allow you," he persists.
You glance at Felix and it's obvious that you're not the only one uncomfortable about this. It's your first destination and it's already getting embarrassing that you feel like wanting to shrink into a microscopic size.
"Can you at least try and call Mr. Park first, please?" You plead one more time.
"There's no one named Mr. Park in here," the new security says.
You scoff in disbelief, "he's the head of security here," you almost snap but remind yourself to keep calm. It was only yesterday that you packed him a half dozen of donuts and a coffee to go.
Felix has a right to be confused by this but he looks just as upset as you, he steps into the matter and says, "I think we can surely make a phone call to confirm."
He then takes the security aside and you can't hear what they're talking about because they're out of your earshot.
After a moment, they're walking back to you and the security pushes the door open.
"Not more than an hour," he warns as he lets the two of you inside.
Felix grabs your hand leading you inside. Even though the matter is solved, you can't stop feeling embarrassed because of it.
"So, what are we going to do here?" He asks.
You keep looking down at your feet, suddenly feel stupid for taking him here just because you know someone from the inside, "I don't know why I'm taking you here," you meekly say.
"Well, it must be because you find this place interesting," Felix says.
For someone who has just met you roughly an hour ago, he puts his faith so much in you. You don't know whether he's overly chivalrous or you should be suspicious of him.
"It's a bad idea to take you here," you sigh, regretting your choice for taking him here of all places you know on the island.
He gently grabs your elbow and says, "come on, we don't have much time!"
That makes you realize you've been wasting time contemplating your choice. Since you're already inside anyway, there's no use to fret.
You start walking and showing him around with both of your footsteps echoing in the empty planetarium.
You skip right to the place you wanted to show him, to the dome where there's a projection of stars on the dome. Mr. Park has shown you how to turn the projection on, you're not forgetting to turn the lights off before joining Felix in the center of the room.
"We're going to be standing here?" He awkwardly asks.
You shake your head and pull him by the hand to sit down next to you.
"Oh okay, we're sitting," he says as he gets comfortable sitting on the floor
But then you lay down on the floor and Felix follows suit, slowly laying his body next to you. In a second, the ceiling of the dome is filled with countless stars and they're the closest he has ever seen yet they're still out of his reach.
"What's your star sign?" You ask.
"Virgo."
You scan the projection to find his constellation and look between the Leo and Libra constellations.
"There!" You point to the constellation that forms a lazy Y shape.
He looks to where you point at the ceiling of the dome and gasps, "oh, that one?"
"It's the second largest constellation in the sky," you explain.
"Oh, wow!" He exclaims in awe and sounds truthfully fascinated by it.
You turn to look at him to know if he's enjoying this little amusement that is personal to you because you never show it to anyone else before.
Notices that you're looking at him, he turns his head and smiles at you.
"Beautiful!" He softly says.
And you can say the same thing about the constellations his freckles made on his cheeks.
You look away thinking you'll weird him out if you look at him for long, "yeah, it's beautiful."
With the absence of lights, the stars look more vivid and the dark that surrounded the two of you, makes it feels like the two of you floating in outer space.
Just the two of you.
-
The sun is shining so brightly but the winds are a bit cold for a summer day.
You're not complaining though because it helps you not to sweat a lot, it feels refreshing that the wind slips through your hair as you keep pedaling your bike.
Once in a while, you look over your shoulder to make sure you don't go too fast and leave Felix behind.
"You're supposed to take me to a gift shop at the end of the tour," Felix says but doesn't look like he's complaining at all.
You chuckle, "It's so that we don't have to go back and forth..."
You stop explaining as he keeps staring at you, it's the eyes that tell so much more than just a stare, the eyes making you feel embraced.
It almost feels like he sees someone that he hasn't seen in a long time.
But that's only possible if the two of you had met before.
"Are you sure we never met before?" You blurt out as you park your bike outside the gift shop.
Felix chuckles and parks his bike next to yours, skipping on answering your question.
The gift shop sells handmade products that are made by the locals, ranging from t-shirts to little figurines made of glass.
You let him look around the shop before taking him to the second floor where there's a room with dozens of wind-chime hanging around the room.
"It's where they make wind-chime," you say.
There's a big wooden table in the middle of the room, cluttering with materials from seashells to feathers and tools scattering around.
"Have you ever made one yourself?"
You nod, "I have one in my house."
"I'd like to see," he says.
You chuckle because he takes your answer as an indirect invitation to come to your house. You'll never get used to his bluntness but you don't mind it either. It surprises you how much you tolerate him even though he's a stranger you've just met hours ago.
"Yeah, sure," You joke because it's the only proper way to respond to that.
When a gust of wind blows in, the wind-chime clink together and collectively make chiming sounds that filled the room with music.
They keep swaying in the direction of where the wind blows.
"Do you want to try and make one?" You ask.
"I'm bad at DIY," he answers with a grimace.
You laugh at how honest he is, there's no pretending in everything he says or does which is very rare. When you meet someone new, they usually hide behind their facade of what kind of person they wanted to be perceived as.
Something about Felix convinces you he has no fear of showing his true self to you.
That scares you a little but at the same time, keeps you intrigued.
Felix takes a few pictures with his phone before going back to the first floor where he continues looking around the shop for something to buy.
You wait for him by the cashier while looking at the beaded bracelets on the counter when all of a sudden a little girl comes to you and hugs you.
"Hi, hello," you greet with a confused tone.
She doesn't say anything but wraps her hands around your waist and looks up at you.
"I'm done looking around," Felix comes back while clutching a few things in his chest and sees the little girl hugging you.
You shake your head at him, "I have no idea," you lowly mutter to him.
Felix puts down the things he's going to buy on the counter and squats down to be at the same eye level as the little girl.
"Can you please tell your mom that I need to pay?" He sweetly asks while fixing the little girl's hair endearingly.
The little girl still not saying anything but nods at him.
"Good girl! Now go, go, go..." he's cheering for her as she gets inside the house to get her mom.
You tip your head to the side even more confused than before, "how do you know she's the daughter of the owner?"
He shrugs, "well... that's the only thing that makes sense," he vaguely explains while uneasily looking at a cart of postcards.
A few minutes later, the owner of the gift shop comes out with the little girl trailing behind her.
"I'm sorry for making you wait," the owner says and immediately packs Felix's things while counting them.
"I don't know you have a daughter," you say because as far as you remember, the owner of the giftshop lives with her brother who made all of those wind-chime and they're both not married yet.
She awkwardly chuckles and answers, "she's my... uh, little cousin."
You nod and take a look at the girl again, how she shares an uncanny resemblance with the owner, "she has your eyes," you pointed out.
She takes Felix's credit card to process the purchase, "yeah, many people said the same thing," she sheepishly says.
Then she returns Felix's card and hands him his things, "thank you!"
Felix smiles at her while putting his card back into his wallet, he then turns at you, "shall we go?"
"Sure," you say.
You smile at the owner and wave at the little girl before exiting the gift shop.
-
After having a quick lunch at a food truck by the beach, you take Felix for a short walk to the ice cream parlor for desserts.
"They have the best ice cream on the island," you brag to him while pushing the door to get inside.
"Oh yeah?"
You turn around as Felix enters after you, "and it's my treat," you say.
The ice cream parlor is a place to go especially after spending time at the beach and you know the owner well, you have been a regular since you were little.
And on Friday, they always give an extra scoop of ice cream.
"Hi, can I take your order?" The girl says in her pink and yellow uniform that matches the interior of the ice cream parlor.
"In a minute," you say and give time for Felix to choose a flavor from the selection displayed on the counter.
"They're all looking good," he says with wrinkled brows like this is a life-or-death decision to make.
"What would you recommend?" He asks you.
You point to the display counter, "Cookies and cream or the... peanut butter?" you recommend but to be honest, you're indecisive too when it comes to ice cream.
"They're all good," you add.
He laughs because you're only making it hard for him to choose.
"What are you having?"
"Chocolate chip cookie dough," you reply.
Seeing that he still needs time to decide, you order first while taking out your wallet from your bag, "I'll have one chocolate chip cookie dough on a cone."
She takes your order and types something on the computer.
"Do I get an extra scoop?" You ask.
"I'm sorry?"
"I get an extra scoop on Friday," you point to the poster on the wall for the promotion. It's clearly written extra scoop on Friday in bold fonts.
"Yes, but it's not Friday," she calmly explains.
Felix grabs your elbow and once again, steps into the matter that you guess he's about to solve.
"And I'll have the butter pecan," he adds and pulls out his wallet from the back pocket of his jeans.
"Hey, I'm paying," you remind him and hurriedly pull out your card from your wallet.
He looks at you and smiles, "I'll just cut it from your pay later," he simply says.
Felix hands the cashier his credit card and says, "and don't forget the extra scoops."
The cashier looks at him with a baffled expression but after a moment, she takes his card from him.
In the end, you get your extra scoop but something is tugging at your chest. When you look back at all the strange things happening today, it's like you know you missed something but you can't pinpoint what it is.
"Are we going to watch the sunset at the beach?" Felix asks as he walks beside you.
You softly laugh seeing the ice cream on the corner of his mouth, you grab his arm and turn him to face you.
"Stay still for me," you order and take a napkin you brought.
You slowly dab his mouth with the napkin and can't help but notice that he's looking at your lips, you hand him the napkin after and look away.
"I have a better place to watch the sunset from," you say.
The bike ride to your next destination is going to be a tough one since the road is steep and bumpy.
But if you want to make it there for the sunset, you have to keep pedaling even though your legs are screaming in pain.
You both eventually stopped pedaling and get off your bikes, deciding to walk them for the rest of the journey up the hill.
Felix fortunately puts all of his trust in you, he doesn't complain or keep asking where you're taking him, which is normal if he does.
Surprisingly though, he's very calm about it.
You put the bikes next to a tree and you take out a bottle of water from your bag, handing it to him.
"Thanks!" He mutters to you and impatiently uncaps the bottle to drink it.
You take another one from your bag and take a big long gulp before start walking to where you're going to watch the sunset.
"What is this place?" Felix asks while taking another sip of water.
"Ruins of a castle," you answer.
There's a crease formed between his eyebrows in a curl of a question mark.
You softly laugh before explaining further, "not exactly a castle but there used to be a birdwatching tower here."
You lead him climbing up the stairs that remained from the ruins and stopping by the concrete barrier, looking out at the sea that seems to be one with the sky.
Felix stands next to you, taking in the breathtaking view in silence while you're observing him.
"You don't seem to be impressed," you say and you've never been this blunt to someone you recently acquainted with, somehow with him, it feels like okay to do that.
He smiles and takes a long deep breath, "which one do you think matters the most? The place or the people you're with?"
Instead of answering your question, he asks you with a new one that got you thinking long and hard.
Your head starts to make scenarios in your head. One is that you go to a beautiful place but you come with your least favorite person to be with and the other one is you go to a horrible place but it's with someone you love.
If you compare those two, the latter seems to be a better answer.
"The people," you answer.
Felix's head is tilted up to see the sky turning golden as the sun is going down with the day and after a moment, he finally turns his head to look at you.
"I really like this place," he says.
He stares into your eyes as if the reflection of the sunset in them is more stunning than the one happening at the end of the horizon.
Then he leans in a little closer at you, "but I like the person I'm with more," he finishes with a soft smile with his eyes filled with warmth. Even with the daylight almost gone, he's luminescent and bright, how come you've never seen such a face?
However, this feeling and this moment you're sharing right now are almost nostalgic like it has happened before.
Is this what people called as fate? Everything about him puts the pieces right in their places.
"Do you want to go see the wind-chime at my house?" You blurt out the question as if he wouldn't get that the wind-chime is just an excuse.
A smile rises on his face as the sun set for the day, "sure."
-
Before it gets too dark, you slowly ride your bikes down the hill and take a few shortcuts to your house.
You arrived just in time as the sun fully disappeared and the moon has taken its place in the sky.
You turn on all of the lights in the house before letting him in and quickly excused yourself to the bathroom, aware that he can see all the beads of sweat on your face.
You wash your face, apply lip balm, brush your hair, and spray a little perfume before getting out of the bathroom. You may still look exhausted but at least you smell nice.
"Oh, I'm sorry, I haven't offered you a drink," you say the moment you see him standing there in the living room, looking out at the back garden with the view of the sea.
"That's okay," he says.
You go to the kitchen and suddenly forgot where you put your things in there, "water? Soda? Juice?"
"Anything will do!"
You take a glass from the top cabinet, "a glass of anything then!" You joke as you open the fridge to get a carton of juice.
His laugh is deep and echoing in the house, "do you mind if I take a look around?"
"Oh please, make yourself at home," you kindly reply and watches him making his way out to the back porch.
You bring the glass of juice in your hand knowing that he must be in your little studio and find him looking at your drawings.
"Here you go!" You give him his glass of juice.
"Thank you," He doesn't waste time taking a sip and puts the glass down on the table.
He then continues looking at the drawings you put on the wall and doing it so attractively, you get to see his side profile of sharp jaws, a small nose, and lips.
"Your drawings are beautiful!"
His deep voice is enough to get you out of your reverie, you immediately mutter your gratitude, "thanks!"
"You're a great artist!" He praises once again.
It's the way he delivers the praise that got your heart palpitations, "I'm not an artist yet but I got a scholarship to attend an art school this year," you don't want to brag but this kind of opportunity doesn't come often.
"In fact, I'm leaving next month," you add with an excited laugh, still can't believe it yourself.
Felix's gaze turns a shade dimmer like he has just heard something awful, "wow, congratulations!" He says but the excitement isn't there.
"Thank you!" Yet you sincerely thanked him for it.
You remember you haven't asked him his intention on this island, "how about you?"
"Huh?"
"Are you here for a vacation or do you plan on staying?" You ask out of curiosity.
"Or do you like my sister's pain au chocolat too much?" You add a joke at the end to not make it seems like you're pressuring him to answer.
He smiles and turns to face you, "I'm staying."
"Permanently?"
"It seems like that, yeah," he answers.
It's too early to assume that he was sad to know that you'll be leaving soon when he only started living on the island but you can't help it either.
"Well, you'll love it here," you tell him, and deep inside you got inexplicably sad that you only met him now.
You both exchange a gaze that elicits the same emotions, of something tender but sorrowful. How do you even have these sorts of feelings toward someone you know barely hours ago?
It's a mystery but you like how you can comfortably look into his eyes and drown yourself in them.
Felix breaks the eye contact first and asks, "so, where's the wind-chime?"
You slightly got a bit jittery, "it's uhm... it's in the other room," you can't find yourself saying the exact location but leads him there.
You both go back inside the house and turn to the right to enter one of the rooms.
Once he stepped inside, Felix calmly walks up to the window and pushes it open to let the air in.
The wind-chime sways and makes clinking sounds, "yours is beautiful," he compliments.
"I bet you know the wind-chime is just an excuse," you shyly say.
He sheepishly smiles and nods.
You approach him and stop right next to him, looking at his face under the pale moonlight that adds a mystifying glow, and makes him appear like a mythical entity.
"Can I kiss you?" You know your curiosity can only be answered with a kiss.
"I swear to you I've never done this before," you start to blabber because that's what you do when you're nervous.
"But you feel so oddly familiar to me like we've met and known each other for years, I just wanted to—"
Before you can finish your sentence, he leans in and closes the gap between your bodies.
It's like the stars aligned the moment your lips touched, it's ethereal and just right.
Your eyes are still closed when he pulls away and you try so hard to find a name for this peculiar feeling, one that resembles a feeling of coming home.
"Is it bad?" He asks with his hands still cupping your face as you stay quiet for a good minute.
You open your eyes and slowly shake your head, "kissing a stranger," you lowly mutter.
You jerk your head back in confusion, "I've never done that before..."
Felix softly chuckles, "yeah, you told me."
You touch his face and swipe your thumb over his small lips, "can we kiss again?"
Strange that you don't see any signs of confusion on Felix's face, "of course, yeah," he answers while laughing.
You're the one leaning in this time and gently place your lips on his, feeling his warm soft lips against yours for a few seconds then let go.
"Interesting..." you sigh in a perplexed tone.
Felix drops his hands to hold you by the waist and you like how he feels around you, safe and comfortable.
You look at his face and laugh at this funny thought that crossed your head, "can we do more than just a kiss?"
Felix once again doesn't seem to be surprised by the question but cracks a laugh at you, "is that what you want?"
You laugh again while burying your face in his chest, drinking in his natural scent mixed with sunshine and sea breeze.
Then you shyly nod without looking at him.
"We can do that," Felix says with his mouth close to the top of your head.
After a while, you look up at him and do not hesitate to kiss him, "maybe after a few more of this," you say between kisses.
And he caters to your wants, returning the kisses with the same passion while holding you close.
"Should we go to bed?" You ask.
Felix doesn't answer but takes you to your bed, patting the space next to him.
However, you choose to sit on his lap and straddle him, kissing him again only to be the one who breaks it again, "I can't believe I asked you that," you say with a low laugh.
You plant a long kiss on his lips and sigh, "I swear to you I am not the type to ask someone I barely know to have sex with me, I—"
You pause to catch a breath from your constant blabbering.
Felix brushes your hair to the side and endearingly cups your jaw, "are you nervous?"
You put your hands around his neck, "a little."
"Do you want to continue?"
"Yes," you answer rather too quickly but you're way past embarrassing yourself at this point.
Felix sweetly smiles as he puts all of your hair away to the side and holds them there, "you're so beautiful."
It's the sincerity in his voice that assured you that his compliments aren't just empty words, they are genuine.
You want to adore him in the same way, one hand slips in his dark locks, and the other trails his defined jaw, you use the chance to play connect the dots with the freckles on his face.
"And you are so, so beautiful," you mutter back as earnestly as possible your voice quivering along with your heart.
The kisses he places on your lips next feel softer and longer than the previous ones but they hold intensity in them, hungry and a little possessive as if someone will take it from him.
And the next kiss is explosive as if this one unlocked the insecurities in both of you, setting them free.
Felix starts to take the dress off of you, exposing your skin to the cool night air and raising goosebumps all over your body.
"I have to warn you that I might be bad at it," you say as Felix puts your dress away.
"At what?" He asks back.
"Sex," you meekly answer.
He takes your hands and put them on his chest, "I'll be the judge of that," he calmly says.
Somehow your hands know what to do and start working the buttons of his shirt, impatiently parting it open after seeing the muscles he hides underneath that shirt.
He helps by taking it off of him and putting it aside, drawing you close to him again, kissing you hungrier than before.
You both collapse onto the bed and tangled your bodies like two slithering snakes, touching and kneading, lips endlessly attached.
More pieces of clothing are off until there are none but mere skins and limbs on the white sheet.
Felix sinks his mouth onto your neck and kisses you there, wet kisses that make you flutter on the inside. Like you aren't intoxicated enough, he slides his mouth down your chest and hovers there, taking your breast in his mouth in turns.
Your soft moans fill the space and echo in the room, your hand slips into his silky fine hair.
You tug a little harder at it as he sucks harder on your nipple that Felix lets out a yelp.
"I'm sorry," you quickly apologize.
You gently rub his scalp with your fingertips to soothe the pain, "it's just that... they're so sensitive," you meekly admit.
Felix uses his index finger to rub your nipple in circular motions with his eyes looking at you through his lashes, "are they?"
You bite your lower lip to stop yourself from moaning and nod, "If you keep doing that, I may—" your words got cut off as Felix tugs your nipple between his teeth, then takes a mouthful of your ample flesh in his mouth.
Felix lets go with a popping sound, leaving your breast swollen and wet with his saliva.
He hastily kisses your mouth then brings his mouth close to your ear, "you know what?"
You turn your head to the side to look at him and mutter, "what?"
He presses his mouth into your other ear, "I can't wait to be inside you," his hot breath tickling, sending a shiver down your spine.
You feel the knot inside you ever so slowly tightening the more he aroused you.
Felix's hand is reaching for the drawers on the bedside table and you guess he's looking for condoms.
"It's on the second drawer," you tell him while watching his hand pull it open and take a condom out of the box.
It's probably a common thing that people keep condoms close to the bed, you reckon since Felix seems to know where you put them.
He sits on the edge of the bed, tears the wrapper open, and put the condom on, crawling back onto the bed once he's done.
He's smiling so sweetly as he hovers above you, placing small fluttering kisses on the side of your face. A hand glides down your body to part your legs open.
You capture his lips for a long, lingering kiss before letting him go, spreading your legs open for you.
Felix gives his cock a few pumps, wetting it with your essence as he rubs his length down your slit repeatedly.
He then put your legs over his and aligns his cock with your entrance, he holds your thighs as he slowly pushes in.
You grip the sheet underneath you and lowly moan as he keeps pushing the remaining length deeper into you.
The hand that holds your thigh, clawing into the flesh and making crescent marks on the skin.
With the last push of his hips, his cock is fully sheathed in your tight walls and he lets a low growl of satisfaction.
Felix lowers himself on you and places a kiss on your lips, taking a moment together to adjust to being inside each other.
You wrap your legs and arms around him, absorbing the heat his slim body emitting, feeling him skin to skin.
The quietness in the room only adds to the intimacy, there's nothing but the sound of your breathing and your body against each other.
Felix slowly thrusts into you but it's the stares deeply into your eyes that make you feel vulnerable under him. A hand holds the side of your head and brushes your hair to the side with such loving.
He softly smiles before speaking, "you're so quiet," he says and your eyes flutter shut as he places a long peck on your lips.
He cups your jaw and holds your gaze, "Is that good or bad?"
You lowly chuckle, a little hesitating to give him an honest answer but he needs to know.
"Good," you shortly reply.
He raises an eyebrow at you with his head slightly tipped to the side.
"Too good to be honest," you shamelessly admit.
The sweet smile returns to his face although he's deep inside you and fucking you like no one ever did to you.
He kisses your open mouth with his tongue invading yours, tasting more of you.
The moment he lets go, you gasp for air and feel a little lightheaded.
He wipes the mess around your lips and gives you a long peck after.
Felix is back kneeling on the bed, hands gripping your waist as you arch your back for him, giving him the right angle to thrust into you deeper.
He picks up the pace and you can feel yourself slipping away, drunk in pleasure. Your hands seek his but ended up holding his forearms.
"Oh my—" you start mumbling incoherent words and moaning at the same time.
Felix seems to be enjoying the sight as he lowly grunts through his gritted teeth, he lets go of your waist to hold your hands, intertwining them with his.
"You're so beautiful, my love," he murmurs.
Did you hear it right? Did he just call you that? 'My love'? Isn't it enough just by fucking you that he needs to call you that and makes your heart flutter in a heating moment like this?
Unexpectedly, Felix only lets the moment lasts for a while, he lets go of your hands and pulls out of you.
You let out a whine at the sudden emptiness and your eyes snap open, confused at this abrupt stop when it's getting really good.
It seems like Felix isn't as annoyed as you, he flashes you a sly smile and makes space on the bed.
He puts his hands under your thighs and holds them up, parting them open to sink his head in between.
A moan escapes your mouth as his hot mouth touches your dripping cunt and Felix makes out with it, using his tongue and lips.
It's messy but inexplicably hot, he licks you up and down your slit then drags his tongue to your clit to suck so hard on it.
You almost clamp him between your legs but he lifts his head at the right time. Felix makes a trail of kisses on your inner thigh while his hands knead the flesh.
It's like he knows how to touch you the right way, there's not one that you find uncomfortable. It's only possible if you had sex a few times together, it's either that or he knows how to please someone.
Next thing you know, he's back hovering above you, kissing you, all over your face and neck. He lays next to you and turns your body to face the other way with your back against his chest, then he holds his arm out to be your pillow which you gladly rest your head on.
He's peppering your neck and shoulder with wet little kisses and one hand makes its way to your wet core, fingering you even though you're already dripping down your thigh.
When he deems you're wet enough for him to penetrate again, he enters you once again from behind.
You can clearly hear his low groans as his mouth is so close to your ear.
"You feel so good," he murmurs into your ear, lips grazing your ear shell as he speaks.
"Gosh, I can feel you tightening around me," he adds.
Well, guess he knows that you like how he softly speaks into your ear and the deep voice doesn't help but make you even more aroused.
You curve your hand around his face and bring his head closer, turning your head to meet his hungry mouth for your lips.
Felix starts moving once again, a hand pulls your leg higher and thrusts deeper into you.
The knot inside you keeps tightening as well, your hand keeps holding his hand as Felix maintains his slow yet intensely hard thrusts.
"Close, mmh?" He asks you along with a sloppy kiss on your cheek.
Unable to provide a verbal answer, you stifle a nod at him.
Felix wraps your body with his arms and holds you so tightly as he picks up the pace of his thrusts, harder and deeper.
"Let's cum together, yeah?" He tells you.
Still, you can't force your foggy brain to form a verbal answer so you nod again. You can only grab his chin to kiss him again and moan into his mouth.
You cum almost at the same time not long after with your bodies sticking together like you are two puzzle pieces that fill each other's nooks and crooks.
When you think about it, it has been a long tiring day, tiring yet fulfilling, and now you feel so tired.
Felix kisses you and holds you close, cuddling you under the cover without pulling out yet. You like how each kiss gives you the same tingling feeling that you giggle like a schoolgirl. When his mouth is back on yours again, you kiss him back wholeheartedly until your heart aches.
"That was so good," you praise him with a shy smile.
"And you said you're bad at it," he says while clicking his tongue.
Just like your body can't find another time to interrupt, your stomach grumbles and you realize you haven't had dinner yet. You close your eyes in embarrassment as if that would hide you from him.
Felix lowly chuckles and kisses your cheek, "I'll go clean up and cook dinner for us," he says.
He kisses you again to finally get up from the bed and goes to the bathroom, leaving you on the bed alone still high in pleasure.
You allow yourself to lie for a minute before getting up as well, putting on a t-shirt. Since Felix plans to cook dinner, a thought runs into your head, you doubt you have something to cook in your fridge, so you hurriedly go to the kitchen to check the fridge.
You don't remember doing grocery shopping and stocking your fridge with a lot of vegetables, you give up on trying to remember things and shrug it off.
It's a relief that there's something for Felix to cook besides the packs of ramen in the top kitchen cabinet.
It takes Felix a long time in the bathroom and you figure he must be looking for towels or something, you jog back to your bedroom to tell him.
You knock his bag off the dining table on the way there and the contents scatter out of its bag, book, pens, wallet, notes, keys, everything.
"Oh no!" You immediately squat down to pick up the things on the floor, putting them back into his bag.
The book is the last thing you pick and it's the book he was reading at the bakery shop this morning, you turn to see the cover.
It's your favorite book from a Russian writer and Felix comes out of your room.
"I accidentally dropped your bag," you quickly explain before he gets the wrong idea.
"You're reading my favorite book," you blurt out of excitement.
“I think... if it is true that there are as many minds as there are heads, then there are as many kinds of love as there are hearts.”
You proceed to recite your favorite quote from the book with a smile on your face then flip open the book.
The smile fades as you recognize the handwriting on the first page, of your initial so you wouldn't lose your copy of the book.
You glance up at Felix whose eyes turn dim like a candle in the wind, "Is this mine?"
He doesn't answer but takes a few steps closer to you.
"Stop right there!" You snap at him with your hand outstretched to stop him from coming close to you.
"H—how do you have my book?" You ask him and lift the book right at him.
Felix seems to struggle to stay where he is, he keeps wanting to get close to you but resists the urge. He takes a deep breath, then says, "I can explain everything."
He takes a careful step towards you but you take a step away from him, maintaining a big gap between you.
"Don't come any closer!" You snap again and hold the book by the spine, ready to throw it at him if he tries to get close to you.
"Give me a chance to explain everything," he pleads with his arms reaching out to you.
His plead means nothing compares to the fear you're feeling right now. Not knowing who he is yet he has been keeping your book in his bag this whole time and you have no idea how he gets ahold of it. On top of that, you feel betrayed because he has been nothing but nice to you.
"Just tell me how the fuck you have my book?" You raise your voice and aim the book at him, something slips off from between the pages of the book and onto the floor.
It looks like a pamphlet from an art exhibition and you're about to glance away from it until you see it, a picture of you on the pamphlet.
"What is this?" You ask Felix.
"Why my picture is on this?"
He looks so sad rather than panic with his hands staying on his side with his face drops, "Let's sit down and I'll explain everything to you, please?"
You refuse to reconcile with him, you put the book down on the armrest of the sofa to read what the pamphlet says since it has a picture of you.
It has your name on it then a short biography of you, you skim the part you already know about your life, then to the part where it gets strange.
"... known opulent colors and dynamic compositions, she's considered to be one of the best artists of the past decade. With just a few confident lines, she could convey gestures and emotions.
Her love for drawing started at a young age and in her early 20s, she planned to move to the capital city of art after accepting a scholarship to the prestigious art school that's also an alma mater to many talented artists.
A month prior to the plan, she got into a terrible accident that caused severe brain damage which got her diagnosed with amnesia anterograde, a type of memory loss that occurs when one can't form new memories. She permanently loses the ability to learn or retain any new information.
Ever since she wakes up living the same day over and over again, that is August 21 when the tragic accident happened.
But what remains different from her day is the drawing she made that captures the beauty of the island she lives in through her eyes.
Every drawing shown in the exhibition is taken right from her personal journal and has been carefully selected by the person who discovered her talent, a retired dancer, Felix Lee.
This drawing series proves two things: that there are no boundaries in art and just like the title of the exhibition itself, her talent is one of a kind."
It's like reading about a life that isn't yours. You refuse to believe it and throw it across the room. That is not you, someone has been pulling a prank on you.
"I would have known if I got into a tragic accident? What brain damage?" You laugh it off while pacing the room.
"You got hit by a car when you were on your bike, you were on your way to the castle on the hill," he speaks with his eyes closed as if it hurts to tell you that.
"No, that didn't happen!" You shake your head in disbelief and try to block him from messing with your head.
Felix remains where he is but looks terribly sad, "you have a scar on the right of your head to prove it," he meekly says.
"No, I don't!" You strongly deny his words.
He just stares at you with those sad and dim eyes, the ones that you hate to see on him.
"If this is some kind of joke to you, just know that it isn't funny!" You look him dead in the eyes as you warn him.
You know he's lying but you have to prove it yourself, your hand reaches for your head and slowly traces your scalp for any kind of...
There, you feel it, the indentation of a scar along the side of your head. You didn't feel it until you acknowledge it, it stings that your eyes start to water.
"What is this? I don't—" you keep denying it because you don't want it to be true.
You break down onto the floor as tears roll down your face, "I don't understand. I never got into an accident, I swear, I—"
Felix comes to hold you and you don't have any energy left in you to stop him, so you let him. You let him hold you so tight as if he wants to squeeze the sadness out of you.
"It's okay. It's not your fault," he says to you and tightens his hold around you.
"I don't believe it!" You deny still even though now you know that it's true and it hurts so much like a ton of bricks falls onto your head at once.
Felix lets you cry into his chest until you calm and your body stops shaking, he brings you a glass of water, then sits across from you.
He explains everything about how you got into the accident and what caused your memory loss, how have you been living. Everything starts to make sense, the familiar feelings, and the people, how this island stays the same but feels so strange to you.
"Are you the Felix Lee? The one who discovered me?" You ask while holding the glass of water in your hands.
"Yes."
"What are we?" You ask.
The question seems to surprise him, maybe it's too personal or too complicated for him to find a definite answer. You think of another question to ask him.
"Since when did you know me?"
"Last year." He answers.
"You've known me for a year?"
He nods.
"Did you know right away about my condition?"
He shakes his head and leans forward, clasping his hands in front of him, "I met you at your sister's bakery shop."
"Just like today?"
He nods again, "that's pretty much how we met," he confirms.
"Then?"
"You didn't recognize me the next day and we had a little argument, at one point you're about to splash me with your cup of coffee," he awkwardly chuckles.
You cringe hearing that from him but that's one of the things you'd likely do.
"Then your sister explained to me about your condition," he adds.
This is the part that intrigues you, he has the option to leave and remains a stranger to you. But why? He said it's been a year since he knew you yet he's here.
"Then why are you still here?" You ask.
"Because I fell in love with you," he shortly replies as if it's an obvious and the only right answer. As if those words won't make your heart aches from hearing it.
Tears start pooling in your eyes again, "why don't you fall in love with someone else?" Your voice breaks at the end of the sentence.
"Because they're not you," he answers.
You can't believe that he's been doing this for a year when he can have a life out there, and falls in love with someone who can make new memories with him every day.
"Why?" You croak as tears caught in your throat.
Felix's eyes are glossy and they're shining under the lights, "Because I love you and I want to be with you," he reaches for your hands and holds them.
"But I—" you pause to catch a breath, "But I won't remember you—" you can't finish your sentence as you start to sob.
Felix comes to your side and holds you again.
"I'll keep forgetting you every day," you say again and let it sink, in how tragic it is to not be able to remember him.
He holds your face in his hands, wiping the tears on your cheeks with such loving, "But you do remember me," he says.
But that only hurt you more, how you can't remember him and how it's frustrating to you. You kept saying how he feels familiar to you but can't remember who he is and that he's been by your side for the past year.
That explains the feelings you have for him, that it's there and it's real.
"And I don't want to forget you again," you sob into his chest.
It seems that it's not the first time Felix finds you like this and that's sad. Why did it happen to you? Who should you blame for this? The driver who lost control of his car? God?
All you know is blaming anyone or anything won't solve anything but make you suffer.
You're lucky you have someone who stays by your side and tries to remind you of him.
You look up at him and hold his face, "I wish we met the day before the accident," you say.
He shakes his head, "No, I wish you never had to experience all of this," he corrects you.
You kiss him with all of your heart and yes, you do remember him. This kiss, these lips, these hands that hold yours, and the warmth of his embrace.
It's him, your heart remembers him.
-
To put it simply, you have all of your memories from the earliest you remember until the day of the accident stored in your brain.
You just can't retain any new memories and your slate is wiped clean every night when you go to sleep. You wake up every day thinking that it's the day of the accident, August 21.
You can't believe that the whole town is keeping this from you but you also understand why they chose to do that, they don't want to hurt you with the harsh truth of your condition.
You believe that Felix has the same good intentions, he just wanted to protect you.
"Breakfast for dinner, huh?" You say as he serves you a plate of food in front of you. It consists of sautéed veggies, a baked potato with cheese, bacon, and toasted mini waffles.
"Is this my favorite of your cooking?"
"No," he replies.
Felix makes himself a plate of dinner too then sits next to you at the dining table, "your favorite is the grilled cheese but we had that yesterday," he adds.
When you think about it again, it's sad that you can't remember anything that you like about him. Just anything about him for that matter. You also understand that it takes a lot of patience to be with you and you're so grateful beyond words for him.
You take his hand and hold it there on your lap, "So I guess Mr. Park is no longer working at the planetarium?" You ask while taking a spoonful of food.
"He moved out of the island a few months ago," Felix answers.
"And the child at the giftshop is the daughter of the owner?"
He nods, "her name is Nana and she likes you very much."
You smile while chewing your food, "and what day is it?"
"It's Monday."
"You paid for the extra scoop?" You guess again.
He nods again.
You shove another spoonful of food into your mouth, "I think this is my new favorite cooking of you," you say.
Felix chuckles in response.
"What?"
"You said that to everything I cooked for you," he answers with a sheepish smile.
Apart from your memory loss, you know yourself well that when you compliment someone or something, you mean them.
"Well then that means I love your cooking," you conclude with a smile.
He brings your hand close to his lips to softly kiss your knuckle, "thank you," he mutters so sweetly.
After washing the dinner down with a few glasses of wine, you're snuggling with Felix as he holds you close on the bed, looking out at the night sky through the open window.
You rest your head on his chest and listen to his steady heartbeat, "Did our days always end like this?" You ask out of pure curiosity.
Felix removes the strands of hair from covering your face and gently kisses your forehead, "not always."
"No?" You ask with sad eyes.
"There are good days and bad days, days in between," he vaguely answers.
"Some days are like today, some days you didn't and sometimes, I just let you be," he explains while caressing your cheek with the back of his hand.
There's a possibility that you hurt him on one of those days too but he chooses not to let you know.
"It must be hard for you," you feel bad for him, for being stuck in the endless cycle to try and make you remember him.
He shakes his head, "as long as you're happy," he says.
You put your hand across his chest and hold him, feeling him as a whole person with a beating heart that loves you regardless of your condition.
You tilt your head up and look at him, you probably have done it more than a hundred times already but your heart flutters still.
You place a soft kiss on his lips because words can't truly fathom how thankful you are for him.
You pull away from the kiss with a smile while admiring his pretty face from up close, wiping your thumb over his lips.
He holds the side of your face affectionately, "you seem to have another question for me," he narrows his eyes at you.
You get flustered even though you haven't said anything, you lay on your stomach and prop a hand under your chin, nodding at him.
"You can ask me anything," he says with his hand on the arch of your back.
"Did the sex always this good?" You shyly ask.
Felix gets flustered as well that he closes his eyes and scrunch his nose, "I think so, yes," he answers.
You keep nodding while smiling, you hover over his body and have him pinned under you.
"That's all I need to know," you say before lowering your mouth for a kiss.
Felix puts his hands around your waist and holds you still, "are you sure you only need to know?"
He certainly knows you well.
If the sex is always that good, it would be a missed opportunity to not have another round with him. Adding to the fact that he's not a total stranger to you changes everything significantly.
You feel a lot more confident, comfortable around him, and safe.
And he's just so... oh, he's so gorgeous, you wonder how this man comes into your life. What is the possibility of a star falling onto your lap just like that? You're so lucky.
Felix intensely looks at you with his half-shut eyes, shifting between seeing his cock going in and out of you and the way you bounce on his cock.
You lean back with your hands on his legs as support and your feet are on each side of his body.
Your breasts move along with every movement you make on top of him and Felix allows himself to fondle them with his hands.
His other hand steadily holds your waist, gripping it so hard you're sure he's making a mark there.
"So good, my love, oh..." he murmurs as he pinches your nipple between his fingers.
You slow down the pace and roll your hips in circular motions, making him feel you whole.
He squeezes on your breast as a groan escapes his mouth, "the way you clench around me, baby," he sighs with eyes closed.
You fondle your breast together with his hand, giggling at how he looked so intoxicated by the pleasure you brought to him.
You continue rolling your hips, back and forth, slow and steady, feeling his length inside you, nudging the sensitive spot repeatedly.
"I don't think I'll last long this time," he says with a mix of delight and desperation in his voice.
You take both of his hands and clasped them with yours, using them as a support as you pick up the pace of your movement.
You hear him cursing under his breath plenty of times already but that only makes you want to please him more, picking up the pace because you can feel that he's so close to his release.
You're enjoying yourself by pleasing him, whining in pleasure, and touching yourself.
A moment later, you can feel his cock twitching inside you as he fills the condom with his seed. A mix of grunts and moans spilled out of his parted mouth.
"And you said you're so bad at it, huh?" He breathlessly says to you.
You chuckle then lower yourself on top of him, sloppily kissing him on the mouth.
He takes a fistful of your hair in his hand as he kisses you back so hard that your lungs burn from running out of oxygen.
The night is getting late and it has been a very long, fulfilling day. The exhaustion got to you and your eyes start to get heavy while Felix held you close with no gap left between your bodies.
"You're sleepy," he says while brushing your hair with his little fingers.
You widen your eyes to prevent them from drooping, "I'm alright," you lie.
He gently pats your head then kisses it, "it's okay, you can rest now."
You shake your head and bury your face in his chest, "If I do then I'll forget you," you sadly say, feeling a lump forming in your throat.
He places his two fingers under your chin and tilts your head up, forcing you to look at him.
"That's okay," he assures you with a tender kiss on your lips.
He holds your gaze and the warmth oozes out of his brown eyes, "I'll make you remember me."
He gives your lips a quick peck on the lips, "tomorrow and the day after tomorrow, for the rest of the week, for as long as I live..."
He takes your hand and kisses it, "I promise that I'll make you remember me," he finishes.
The tears just start to flow out of your eyes and roll down your cheeks, your heart hurts so much like someone stabbed it repeatedly.
"Why did you do this?" You speak between your low sobs.
Felix sadly smiles but his eyes remain kind and warm, "I told you, I want to be with you."
You dive into his arms and into the safety of his embrace where nothing can hurt you. You'll soon forget how his body feels against you, his gentle touch, and his intoxicating lips that always entice you to kiss.
Then a pair of hands that always knows how to wipe your sadness away and protect you from harm, hands that know how to please you and put you at ease.
For the first time you feel so sure about everything, this moment and this person, this feels right because he's right.
With steadfast conviction, you look into his eyes and say those words that are meant to be said to him, "I love you." You dare to let your heart wide open because you know he wouldn't break it, and it does feel like you have said it for the umpteenth time. You don't remember it but your heart keeps the count.
Your brain would soon dismiss him from your memory but your heart will remember him as the one who says, "I love you too."
-
Felix likes watching you sleep with your hands folded under your head, lost in your peaceful dream.
He would stay the night up, guarding you against the bad dreams that might invade your sleep and admire your beautiful face that you're so unaware of.
When the dawn breaks, no matter how much he wants to stay, he knows it's his time to go.
He allows himself to have a moment to take a long look at your face, caressing it so tenderly like you would break if he touches you the wrong way.
"We'll meet again today," he whispers into your ear then gives a long, lingering kiss on your forehead.
"I love you," he finishes with another kiss on the back of your hand.
He lingers by the doorway to see your sleeping figure under the cast of bluish light, where he questions himself if this is right to keep doing this.
He refuses to give up just because that's easier. He has faith that in that caged heart of yours, you remember him.
He knows his answer would always be to stay with you then blames himself for letting the doubt take over him for a second.
He opens your journal to rip the pages of drawings you did that day and put everything back into your bag. He gathers his things and makes sure that he left no trace of himself in the house.
On the way out, he meets your sister who's going to help him put things back into their place like it's August 21 all over again.
"How was she?" She asks while holding the copy of the same dress you wear every day in one hand.
"She remembered me," Felix answers.
She lets out a sigh of relief, "That's good," she comments.
"You'd better go home and get some rest," she adds.
Felix nods and takes your sister's bike with him, going back to his cottage not far from your house.
He compiles the drawings you did into the collection he has saved in files, email the gallery director if she's interested to display new drawings of you.
He rests for a few hours before getting up and getting ready for a new day.
You always come to your sister's bakery shop around 7.30 and Felix comes a few minutes late on purpose.
When he enters the bakery, he sees you already sitting in your favorite spot in the bakery and silently drawing on your journal.
Felix orders himself a cup of coffee and a pastry from your sister.
"She looks bright this morning," your sister says as she hands him his orders.
Apart from your swollen eyes, your sister is right.
You are as radiant as ever, your smile is scintillating and the morning shining through the window adds a glow to your heavenly presence.
He takes slow walks to your table and he tries not to startle you by clearing his throat to make his presence known.
You look up at him, wide-eyed and curious.
"Good morning!" He begins.
"Morning!" You greet back with zero enthusiasm.
No matter how many times he received this cold expression from you, he believes he'll never get used to it.
"Do you mind if I sit here?" Felix asks and careful with the way he says it. He doesn't want to come off as if he wants to intrude on your day, he just wants to be a part of your day, no matter how small it is.
He did this a handful of times already, sometimes you accepted him, sometimes you rejected him, and a few times, you didn't even let him in at all.
He's prepared for both the best and the worst of outcomes.
He feels your eyes scanning him for any signs of red flags and then looks down at your drawing.
"You may sit," you answer without looking at him.
This is categorized as a good result, it's better than you flatly rejected as you did a few days ago.
Felix doesn't want to rush things so he pulls out his book, sips his coffee, and tries not to notice how you quietly glance at him.
He bites into his pastry and that seems to evoke your curiosity.
"What are you having?" You ask but keep your eyes on your drawing.
"Oh it's a..." he pauses to think of a clever way to answer you and one that would make you laugh.
"Pain au chocolat," he answers.
You snort in response.
"What?"
"That's not a pain au chocolat," you say.
"It isn't?"
You put your pencil down and drink your coffee, "that's a chocolate croissant," you correct him.
"I thought it was the same," Felix says with utmost surprise even though he heard it before.
" They are made from the same dough but pain au chocolat is shaped in a cuboid piece rather than a croissant," you explain and take another sip of your coffee.
"Ah!" Felix exclaims.
"I've been misinformed this whole time!" He says with an irritated sigh.
"That's okay, the internet can be misleading sometimes," you sneer.
"How do I know your information is legit?" Felix dares with a sly smile.
You cross your arms in front of you, "my sister owns this bakery," you say with a smirk.
The mischief in that curl of your lips, he likes it on you.
"So that proves your pastry profiling skill?" He leans forward and raises an eyebrow at you.
You got quiet for a while then all of sudden, burst into laughter.
"Pastry profiling— What?"
Gosh, seeing you laugh makes his heart full and he wants to keep doing that: making you happy.
Felix points to your journal, "are you drawing sketches of pastries, huh? Let me see!" He jokes.
"No, I'm not," you say while still laughing.
The laugh dies down after a moment and it's the first time you look into his eyes that day, "How come I've never seen you here before?"
"I'm new in this town," he answers.
You put your journal aside and lean on the table, "and you are?"
"I'm Felix, nice to meet you!" He introduces himself and holds out his hand at you.
You seem to hesitate at first but confidently take his hand and shake it for a few seconds, "Nice to meet you!"
And that's how another day begins.
Another day of trying to make you fall in love with him all over again.
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#stray kids scenarios#skz scenarios#stray kids imagines#skz imagines#skz fics#skz fanfics#felix x reader#felix x you#felix angst#stray kids angst#skz angst#stray kids smut#skz smut#felix smut#skz felix smut#skz x reader
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The way you made me cry then ruined me should be illegal. 🤌🏾
killing me - yunho (m)
part of the frat boy series.
summary: roommate!yunho. after last year, yunho swore he would never live in a frat house ever again. that doesn’t mean he’s leaving the frat, though, so he moves into an apartment just down the street. and you? well you need somewhere cheap and walkable to campus, and yunho is leasing a room. so that’s how you end up living with the human embodiment of sunshine and puppies, but the more time you spend with yunho the more you realize he may have a darker side lurking beneath the surface.
word count: 9.6k
warnings: smut!! m masturbation (lil perv yunho moment), a little rough, reader has female body parts/female pronouns used, slight cumplay? unprotected sex, creampie, don’t be like them, kinda unedited <3
masterlist
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#ateez yunho#ateez angst#ateez smut#yunho smut#yunho fluff#yunho angst#jeong yunho smut#jeong yunho fluff#jeong yunho angst#jeong yungho x reader#yunho x reader#yunho imagine#yunho one shot#yunho fic#jeong yunho imagine#jeong yunho one shot#jeong yunho fic#yunho x you
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This hit me like an old sad love song 😭
One More Night
𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: ex-boyfriend!Dokyeom x reader
𝐆𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: angst, smut, lovers to exes au,
𝐑𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠: r (18+)
𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: drinking (at the bar), cursing, kissing, morning sex missionary, from the back, clit stimulation, squirting, unprotected sex, creampie, heartbreak, mention of break ups, reconciliation **just want to clarify for networks it’s not drunk sex**
𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬: 8.1k
𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: You thought breaking up with him was best for your heart before he left, but the universe had other plans. It’s Dokyeom’s last night in town, and he wants to spend it with you. 𝐀𝐍: Thank youuuu to @hobeemin and @wordycerty for reading this for me. It’s the first thing I’ve written in months and you guys reassured me that I wasn’t terrible lol.
It was his last night in town before he left for good. You didn’t plan on seeing your ex, let alone conversing with him. But he called, and here you are, at the local bar, drinking every word Dokyeom says.
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#kpop imagines#kpop scenarios#svt angst#svt smut#dokyeom fic#dokyeom smut#dokyeom angst#seokmin fanfic#svt scenarios#svt imagines
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bad habit. CHAN — 방찬



pair. bad boy! chris x f. reader. | warnings. mentions of violence, language, mentions of scars, mentions of abuse/neglect, smut, unprotected sex, filthy talk, slight breeding kink. | word count. 4.8k
synopsis. chris has never asked or needed anyone’s help—except yours.
tags. @ughbehavior, @cb97percent, @hyuneater 🤍
“Don’t call 911.”
You stare at the man on your front steps. The scar running across half of his face is paler than usual tonight, contrasting against the bright red painted on his lips.
Blood. Still, that doesn’t surprise you. What does—
The deep burgundy on his white shirt, the way his veiny hands are clutching his left side, his body leaning towards it, curling weakly around the wound, legs clad in black sprawled over the stairs.
This has been a reoccurring image; it’s practically stitched behind your eyelids, his hundreds of injuries, the way he remains bleeding out in front of your house. The familiarity of it doesn’t make it any less distressing to witness.
And yet, the why—it’s never answered. It lingers over the both of you; hangs like a cloud every time you find him there, that designated place of his in your life, with the stench of iron, and sweat.
He can’t stand the way you’re looking at him.
“Stab wound?” you asked, tilting your head at him. Despite your mild annoyance, you couldn’t help but worry.
He seemed to be in more pain than usual.
“Almost,” he replied, and it was a breathy thing. “He couldn’t get close enough,” he choked on that last word, groaning.
You sighed, and helped him to stand, propping his arm around your shoulder, carrying the weight of him up the steps and into your home. As soon as you opened the door, he dropped to the floor, panting.
He was scaring you. “Chris, I think you need to go to the hospital.”
“No,” he exhaled sharp, squeezing his eyes shut, “no hospital.”
That didn’t sound very convincing.
“Please.” At that, you turned to look at him. Chris never said please, never begged for anything. Barely asked for help, his pride too big, his need to appear independent, and self sufficient most important—except when it came to you.
Hell, you consider yourself an overnight private nurse at this point. You had only but a basic knowledge of first aid, but always kept a well supplied kit under your bed, exactly for this reason.
When Chris first showed up on your doorstep, busted face, bruised ribs, you almost turned him away. You’d briefly dated, months back, until you realized the fights would never stop. The thrill of a punch was more important than you. So you ended it, and genuinely thought you would have nothing to do with him, ever again.
Cut to two months later, past midnight. All black shirt drenched, hair sticking to his forehead, pale face—you took him in because it was late. Then because he had nowhere else to go. The excuses blurred together, after a while. Every time was the last time.
A year later, you’re here. You grab the red box, dropping your stuff on the mattress, and rush to him.
You don’t focus too much on what you’re doing, only trying to be quick and precise, assessing the injury, picking out what you need to disinfect, tend, cover. Your fingers work the buttons on his shirt, exposing tan skin, and muscle.
Ignoring, you blinked at the side of his stomach. It didn’t look deep, which was good, but it was still nasty. He’d just barely recovered from a kick to the abdomen, or what he said was a kick.
It looked more like someone had smashed a chair on him. It wouldn’t be entirely impossible.
“I’m gonna need you to take your shirt off,” you mumble, cleaning around the big gash, wiping the blood away.
Chris was intently staring at your face, the pain turning into static; an uncomfortable buzzing that would eventually numb to nothing. The pain was always temporary, and then the itch would come back, hard to tune out. Chris succumbed to it every fucking time.
There was no reason to it, no clear explanation. His brain was just wired that way, and he’d decided to live with it. The life he led was going nowhere, and the most terrifying part of it all—he couldn’t care less.
He didn’t give a single fuck.
“You only have to ask, baby girl,” he flirted, wincing at the motions it took to remove the shirt. His shoulders were sore—of course, that was the least of the damage.
“Don’t be absurd,” you glared at him through your eyelashes. “Keep this on the cut, will you?” Your fingers guided his hand on top of the cut, applying pressure with the cloth you used to clean around it.
“I missed you,” he mused, doing as told.
“You saw me two weeks ago.”
He chuckled at that, and immediately regretted it, almost doubling over with cough. You scolded him, told him to keep quiet. He complied, silently, but didn’t stop smiling.
After that, you ran to your small bathroom, wetting a towel with warm water, and washing your hands. When you were sure the blood had stopped flowing, you cleaned the wound one more time, gently fingering some antibiotic cream on the angry looking thing.
“Lift your arms,” you instructed, wrapping sterile bandage around his torso. You secured it with a pin, and leaned back to admire your work.
“All done.” You paused as you said that, peaking at his face. “You know how to take care of that, don’t you?” You pointed at his lip.
Chris nodded, already ahead of you on that. You took a deep breath, and nodded back, starting to get up. His hand shot out, stopping you.
“Thank you.” His eyes, peering over at yours—they looked almost angelic. Perhaps it was an illusion of the moon, illuminating on his face from the window next to him.
Or perhaps your mind was playing tricks on you.
“Yeah. Of course.” You bunched up his bloody shirt in your hand, and went to throw it in the washing machine, along with the rest of your laundry.
It had become a habit of sorts, doing washes with his clothes. It sort of gave you a reason to complete that dreaded chore. Walking over to your closet, you grabbed one of his many spare shirts that stayed in your house after visits like this, and threw it at him.
Chris had already tended to his lip, and eyebrow. Grasping the corner of the wall, he slowly slid up, hissing at the strain and effort it took to stand.
“You’re staying here,” you said, on stand by to help him move to your bed. He nodded, his face scrunched up in pain. You let him use you as a crutch, sitting him down on the soft surface.
After a few seconds of deep breaths, he turned his head to look at you. His broad shoulders, and defined chest distracted you way more than you cared to admit. You prompted him to wear the shirt, taking off your own.
The two of you had never been shy to each other’s bodies. He’s seen you naked more times than he’s seen you clothed, he knows every crevice of you, every freckle. And you do, too. You remember everything. Sometimes you wish you didn’t.
“What started it this time?” You asked, conversationally, reaching for your oversized T-shirt by the edge of your headboard.
Chris whirled his frame, his back to you, as he struggled to fit the shirt over his head without irritating the wound too much.
And there they were. Dozens of scars, all faded with time, but bumpy, evident even in a dark room. They looked like slashes, knife or whip marks, you’d never got a clear answer for that. Or for anything, really.
He had all these scars, on every part of him, and he still longed for more—got himself in trouble just to feel them forming again, and again. Once, you accused him of living in the past, of thriving off of getting hurt. It was a mean thing to say, but you’d said it anyway.
It was true. You’d seen it in his eyes, back then. He knew nothing else—no other way. Getting physical was second nature to him. But it wasn’t to you, and you had grown sick with obsessing over your phone, waiting to get that one dreadful call.
The call that would break you, ruin everything. You broke up with him hoping that would bring him to his senses. If anything, it only made it worse.
Your fingers reached to trace them, the ghosts of his childhood. His body stilled, froze under your touch. You think he’d stopped breathing, until he exhaled shakily.
“The motherfucker had it coming,” he said through his teeth. “He messed with Felix.” As if that would explain everything.
It did, to no one’s surprise. Chris would die for that Lee Felix—he’d been his longest friend, dating from their childhood back in Australia.
He had a tattoo, located at the top of his spine, right under the nape of his neck. It was a traditional looking cross, but there was a snake wrapping around it, engulfing it in its leathery embrace. He’s had that since you met him. He got that for his friend, he’d said. Snakes symbolize rebirth.
His friend had died in a car accident, the winter before you saw him at the bar you worked at. Still work at. His name was Changbin, and ‘he loved dark shit like that.’
Chris got that in his memory. That’s the only ink he has.
But the scars. The scars had no answer. The scars ran deeper than anything else. He’d always been self conscious of the one extending from the bottom of his brow, over his nose, to the apple of his cheek. It had made such a strong impression on you, when you saw it. You thought it looked badass. You said so.
He’d smirked at you, twirling his drink with one hand, a thick chain adorning his wrist.
“Isn’t that a red flag, sweetheart? Liking men with scars?”
You’d smiled softly, pouring a cocktail you’d just made to a glass with a lime wedge on it.
“Not if the scar isn’t their fault.”
His eyes darkened at that, face somber. “And how would you know?”
It was clear you’d pushed a button, somewhere, but it was way too late to backtrack then. So you replied, “You don’t look the type to slice their own face open.”
He’d asked for your name then. That same night, you found him waiting outside, leaning against his motorcycle. It was something like three in the morning. He looked wide awake.
He took you home, and fucked you against the doorframe. You couldn’t even make it past the hall. Ever since then, you clung to each other.
And then you didn’t. He never stopped.
“Can I ask about them, now?” You kept your voice small, barely above a whisper.
Chris shuddered, but said nothing for a long time. Then he wore the shirt at once, still facing away from you. You wore yours too, almost giving up on his replying.
Then he spoke.
“My step dad was a drunk,” he started, his tone rough. “He beat my mom, and constantly fucking threatened me. Many times—he’d kick me out, throw all my shit to the streets. My mom tried to reason with him,” he chuckled, dryly, “there was no reasoning with him. He had a pocketknife. It was always out whenever I was around.”
He stopped, letting the words register in your ears. Tears brimmed at the edges of your eyes, and you let the spill freely. You knew it’d be fucked up, but never this. This was child abuse—it was horror.
He buried his face in his hand, rubbing his face raw. Then he turned to look at you. His brows rose at your tears, surprised to see you cry like this, for him. He reached out and wiped them away, one by one.
“One night, my mom was asleep. I’d come home late. He made sure I knew—that was his house. I lived under his roof.”
You got a hold of yourself, taking in his words as he caressed your face. He was so close you could feel his breath on your lips. He seemed to know that—he made no move. Lines. You’d established lines, and despite his rebellious personality, he would never cross them.
Because he cared about you way too fucking much. Because if this was the only way he could have you, he sure as hell would not jeopardize it—for nothing.
Even if his body missed yours like crazy. Even if he dreams of you naked underneath him, giving in to him, letting him take care of you the way he knows. The way he’s learned, the way you’ve taught him.
“Thank you telling me this,” you laid a hand on his thigh, a sad smile stretching your mouth. “I wish I’d known sooner.”
He stared at your hand on him. “It changes nothing.”
You had to put some space between you. Getting up, you walked to the bathroom to wash your face. He watched you walk away from him—you seem to do that so well.
Him, on the other hand. Anchored down, setting camp outside you, waiting. Until you change your mind—until you accept this, this thing between you, until you invite him in again.
You must still know—how he loves you. The fire had been lit long ago, perhaps when he first laid eyes on you, perhaps longer still, even before. It’s still burning, but it’s a desperate attempt—there’s little wood left, and no kindling.
Still, he waits. Still, he loves you. Chris has never known how to give up.
“Who was with you?” You ask, trying to break the impenetrable wall that’s started to build between you again.
“Felix, Hyunjin, and Jisung,” he replied, feeling your intent. “We were just drinking. You can ask them—they’ll vouch for me. I didn’t start it.”
You snorted at that, dabbing your face with a towel, and turning off the light. “Of course they’ll take your side. You’re leading a cult, Bang Chan. Have you not noticed how blindly people follow you?”
His eyes followed you as you comfortably went around your safe space, putting on your skincare, brushing your hair. He felt like an invader, interrupting your life like this, a beggar scrapping for crumbs—and yet you acted like he didn’t, like he was part of your daily routine.
Like he belonged in your room at one in the morning, wrapped in gauze, half drunk. Like before.
“How long will you make me wait?” It fell out of his mouth, before he could even second guess it.
Your hands stopped mid air, the question too honest, too raw. A dare, almost.
“Chris…” You wouldn’t look at him, instead resuming what you were doing, shaken.
He sat where you left him, arms crossed over his naked chest, all muscle, eyes piercing you through the mirror in front of you. You let your gaze graze over his frame in the dark. The remnants of his touch, the way his breath would fall over your breasts, dropping kisses on your skin—and then, finally, the entering, the gasp, the intoxicating spreading and stinging of his cock buried deep in you—
You missed him more than words could describe. But the fear—it had its vines wrapped tight around you. He’s still fighting, disregarding his life, thinking so very little of himself…
You couldn’t mean so much to someone. You couldn’t be the only thing that made them happy—the only thing that filled their empty spaces.
Chris was a strong man. A mountain, something you couldn’t easily shake, something that seemed to withstand the passage of time, and nature, and the wrath of other men. But a mountain chips away, too. Little by little, the change so small, not visible to the naked eye.
One day, it would grumble and crumble. Fall apart entirely. Something that once stood so big and unbeatable, suddenly reduced to rock and debris.
“You’ve any idea how much I love you?” His voice filled with emotion, growing deep with yearning. “How much it takes for me to not reach out and touch you how I know you love being touched?”
“We were doing so well,” you mutter, tears welling up. “Why’d you have to ruin it?”
“‘Cause it’s bullshit, isn’t it?” There’s resentment in his tone, now. He’s shaking with purpose. “You feel it as much as I do, (Y/N). I know you fucking do. Stop trying to hide from me. From me—any other motherfucker you can fool, but not me.”
“I know you like the back of my hand.”
Your body shot up from the chair, before your mind could begin to process what you were doing—you opened the front door, your face collapsing with grief.
“Leave.” A weak attempt.
He made no move to do so. Instead, he rose to his feet, hand clutching the headboard, evidently in pain. You felt like a hypocrite, helping him with his wound, but throwing him out of your house the moment he speaks the truth.
You try not to waver.
“Close the door, angel,” he spoke softly, like how one would talk to a child.
You blink, tears blurring his broad figure. You think you should, like maybe you’re overreacting, but it’s him, it’s Chris, and you’re sure he’d never tell you to do anything he wasn’t sure you wouldn’t regret.
He walks towards you, slowly, grunting along the way. He leans against the hall’s wall, head falling on the cool of it, and he looks at you. He looks at you with the weight of him, the history of you, his love that still remains.
He looks at you because he sees it back. It’s staring him straight in the face. Why would you be crying, otherwise?
“You have to stop, Chris,” you say and it chokes you. The wave of it. It drowns you both.
“He’s not here anymore. He’s gone.”
And you mean his stepfather. You mean Changbin. You mean the little kid that had to fight just to survive—just to have a roof over his head, just to protect his mom when his mom wouldn’t protect him. You cry for all of them, because they shaped who is standing in front of you.
Chris had to glue every single piece of what made him. But you cannot glue a person back together. It’s going to be all wrong—you saw that, too. You tried to understand it.
His dark eyes were glistening. He swallowed thickly, his Adam’s apple moving. He tried to pretend; tried to ignore how his throat closed up, how his chest hurt.
“Stop what?” But he knew. He knew.
“Fighting back. You won. You’re okay,” you exhale sharply, smiling at him, but it’s a sad thing.
And then, at last, you sob. Everything you’ve been boxing up, everything you’ve wanted to say—it surges out of you. A tsunami high enough to bury the entire city of him underwater.
Bang Chan withstands, as he always does.
His arm reaches out, and crushes you into him, slamming the door shut with his foot. You go, because you’re tired of fighting as well. You’d like to rest now. Tell yourself it’s going to be alright at the end.
You belong with this man, after all. The tide keeps bringing him back to you.
“Let me in,” he repeats feverishly on your neck. His hot breath is scorching. “Let me in, let me in…it’s me, angel.”
It was. You nod against him, your tears still sweeping, flowing, bursting. If you’re hurting him, he doesn’t show it, instead tightening his arm around you, allowing you to accept him. And you do—you open up like a flower after heavy rain. You show him everything.
Chris leaves a kiss on the top of your head. “For you, anything. For you, the world,” he whispers in your hair, and you believe it.
He’d rather die before he loses you again. You know this, too.
And so it starts—the pushing, and pulling. Your shirt over your head, his arms grabbing, throwing, your naked skin under his warm hands, the way it comforts his rushing thoughts. You’re being careful with his cuts, the sharpness of him, but the softness—the shades, and curves, the roughness of his past sketched on him, the pencil dug, the lines going inwards, hard and clearly outlined to last.
He pushes you back against the door, and it feels like that first time, so long ago now, when you couldn’t wait to get your hands on him—when he was driven to the brink of insanity with the thought of you, how you would feel, so much so that he’d risk everything, he’d take you right there, outside your workplace if possible, but you showed him something better, something personal and intimate—your home. And he became a part of it, like a piece of furniture, and even after, he’s still there, on all you owned, his scent never quite gone because he comes again.
And again. Again, again, again. He’s never gone longer than the time it takes for his cologne to dissolve from your sheets.
Your fingers are shaking, and his are too, but they’re also fervent, they’re trying to reach everywhere, all at once, and the impatience of him is so truly like him that it brings new tears, and those tears smear on his shoulder when your head drops, when his fingers push your underwear to the side and sink into you—oh, the feeling of him. The longness of his digits, the way they curl inside your cunt, all the ways he knows where to go, like a map he wrote himself, with red pins all over it, marking the salient spots, the foremost parts of you. Your mouth hangs open, as he takes you like that, and he reaches for it—smashes your lips together, his tongue exploring familiar territories, but also whatever has changed in the time you kept yourself from him. He’d learn it again, he’d spend his whole life reintroducing himself to you.
“Let go for me, baby. Whenever you’re ready… I’m right here.”
You’re screaming, you think, it feels too good, and his middle finger is hitting that spongy spot inside of you, the wetness of your cunt sounding impossibly sinful to your ears, but he keeps going, he loves it, it’s making him rock hard against your thigh, and oh my God, you can feel the length of him, you remember how fucking delirious it used to make you to cup him over his jeans, feel him fill your entire palm and more, his mouth over your ear whispering dirty things, awful awful words, that stole your breath, that had you fully alert of all the ways a man could use you, could pleasure you—my beautiful girl, I can’t wait to have my dick buried deep inside of your sweet cunt, I bet you feel like pure fucking morphine—Chris’ mouth could run for days. But he absolutely fucking lived for the way you’d collapse on him, for the effect his filthy words had on you, and especially on your pussy, the way you’d drench him the more he whispered to you.
Your orgasm rippled through you in one tidal wave. You grind down on his hand, riding through it, and he encourages you, he’s everywhere, there’s no line where you start and he ends, he’s all over you, you’re all over him. Your moans turn him into a goddamn animal, send him straight to Hell, and he gladly goes, he gladly falls, anything, anything for you, absolutely, and always, you must know, surely you must fucking know.
“Get inside me. Now, Chris, now, fuck…” you pant, you fall apart—he catches you. Every time.
He obliges. Your touch on his cock is heavenly, all he’s been waiting for, for you to want him like this again, to be this close, to be as close as it humanly gets, and if he could become second skin on you he would, but he fucking can’t, so he settles for this—you position him against your entrance, and despite his battered body he pushes in, he would never miss this, would never refuse, goddamn the wounds, and the scars, and the fucked up part that still exists in him, will always exist.
He pushes, and he slips in, slips past, his arm is wrapped around you, his hand is squeezing your neck, he’s folded around you like the snake on his neck—a rebirth, and it is, it fucking is—you cannot breathe then, the stretch incredible, the feeling of him, of his cock—you’d missed him so fucking much, you can’t believe you deprived yourself for this long.
But he’s here now. He fucks into you slow, sensual—you think he can’t possibly move any faster, the pain too much, but one, two, three, four thrusts later and he picks up his pace, cradles you into his chest and drills up in your cunt, almost lifting you off the ground. You gasp, his name whispered like a prayer, yes, yes, please don’t fucking stop, yes, harder, please Chris, please—he shushes you, his fingers getting lost in your hair, pushing strands away from your face so he could look into your eyes, so he could watch as you come apart, as your eyes fall shut, as you go into overdrive.
You’re so wet for me, baby girl, I can’t fucking believe I’m inside you—will you let me come in my pussy, mine, it’s mine, you’re mine, angel, fuck—he’s aggressive now, almost there, crazy with need, and your smell, your sweet smell mixed with the musky scent of your sex, he can’t get enough, he’s going to have to be buried in you for the rest of his life, he thinks, its impossible to part with you now, he’s scared, fucking terrified, there’s nothing better than this, than you, he loves you so fucking much, he’d trade his entire existence for one taste of you, of your lips, of your cursed cunt—he’s in flames, you’ve become a forest fire, torching everything in your wake, and he’ll burn with you, he’ll gladly burn to the ground if that’s what you want.
Your lips suck on the sensitive part of his neck, and it sends him spiraling—he’s bruising your thigh that’s against his hip, his fingers dig into your jaw, you’re blind with the entirety of him—you come, and you’re begging.
“Come with me—come inside me. Please, please—”
He needn’t be told twice; he chases after you, his own high overwhelming, but he stays moving inside you, painting your walls with his cum, breeding you, marking you. He faintly thinks if you get pregnant with his child, he’d marry you on the spot, would take care of the both of you, you’d never have to worry. He stills inside of you, both hands on your ass now, as he realizes the wavelength of his feelings, his own obsession—a family with you.
Chris doesn’t ponder over it for too long, knowing you’d freak out on him and he’d have to lose you all over again, but he thinks he can see it; a little girl in his arms, your warm voice filling his mind. He shakes his head, as his cock slips out of you, his hand reaching to tuck it back into his jeans.
Later—there’ll be time for that. But not now. He doesn’t think he can handle that right now, not when the monsters of his past are still threatening to knock down the very foundation of him.
“Are you okay?” You ask him, looking down, examining his wound. There’s blood peaking through the white of the bandage, and you sigh. “I have to change this.”
Chris smiles at you, without meaning to. His girl. His. He’d never take it—this—for granted. You worrying about him, your eyes staring at him softly. Never.
He’d never fuck this up. Never again.
“Tell me you love me,” he demands, but he’s still smiling, his face feels like the sun.
“I love you,” you say shyly, quietly.
“Again.”
“I love you.”
His forehead falls against yours, his hands on your arms, holding you in place.
“Again,” he whispers, eyes closed.
You brush your thumb on his cheek. “I love you, Chris,” you say earnestly. Proudly.
When he cups your face, you think you will never love anyone as much as you love him. There’s no one like him—no one you’d rather have. And when he drops a kiss on your forehead—home.
Nothing like it.
#i had to put down my pizza and cry#chan scenarios#bang chan scenarios#stray kids scenarios#bang chan smut#chan smut#stray kids smut#skz smut#bang chan fanfic#chan x reader#skz fanfic#stray kids fanfic#stray kids imagines#bang chan angst#chan angst#bang chan x reader#bang chan x you#beautifully written#packed with emotions#never cried and wanted someone's babies before
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i mean, he’s the representative of this blog for a reason
Cherry Lip Gloss [Re-Write] (Im Changkyun)
Changkyun couldn’t help himself. He was drowning in the heartbreak and the only thing he could taste was her damn Cherry Lip Gloss.
Warnings: angst, heartbreak, smut (unprotected sex)
Word Count: 3.7k
Masterlist | Old version
The electric that easily flowed throughout the club was enough to keep the people in it alive and moving. The music that played loudly could almost be deafening if the people that danced their life away weren't focused on the buzzing feeling of getting drunk and enjoying the feeling of another's body against their own.
The club was buzzing with life, each second welcomed a new face ready to drink their night away and be filled with a familiar feeling of ecstasy as the night grew older and older ready to meet the greeting sun. A long day brought them here, and they were ready to face the consequences of a hangover when the time came. But for now, letting themselves go would be their main objective.
But the loud music mixed with the smell of arousal from the club-goers didn't seem to bother Changkyun once as he pushed his way through the crowd. The bar would be his favorite destination for the night.
Sharp brown eyes found a seat away from the rowdy crowd of men and women. A look of acknowledgment was shot between him and the female bartender who looked rather done with her shift. He knew what he needed and what he needed was something strong. So he voiced that to the girl as she lazily nodded her head.
Once the drink was in his hands, he turned his attention towards the crowd. It was easy to tell how many people stood on the dance floor. He ignored the flirtatious looks as his eyes kept scanning. Rather he ignored them all and kept his eyes on one single person as they did the same with him. Changkyun watched her movements carefully. Her movements matched the beat of the music almost perfectly, almost as if the girl dancing had practiced for this moment in particular.
Another sip of alcohol burned down his throat, but he gave no signs it did too much to bother him. Relaxing back against the bar, Changkyun could only note how inviting the girl looked dancing alone. It was almost an itch he wanted to scratch ever so desperately, but instead, he stayed by the bar playing with the rim of his shot glass as his brown eyes stared down the girl with mixed emotions.
He knew he shouldn’t do it. But he couldn’t help it. He knew it certainly wasn’t the alcohol talking. He drank merely a sip of it. He was already intoxicated by the mere thought of being in the same room as her.
Changkyun noted her skintight dress. The dress that fit her almost too perfectly. It seemed so new. It had Changkyun shift where he stood against the bar. Everyone around him was a seamless void. Only the girl on the dance floor was in his line of sight, her movement ever so flawless it had Changkyun itching for more, to feel more.
His skin tingled with unknown sensations. He craved for things he knew he shouldn’t have. But he wanted it. To reach for something that maybe could be dangerous, but to live for danger is what he would do if it meant achieving a toxic high. Something so toxic he knew it would be killer.
Changkyun couldn't recall when he downed the rest of his drink or when he moved to push himself through the bodies that grinded against each other to achieve one of the highs they were looking for. It felt like a hike to get to the single her, but once he was within reach the males hands wrapped around her waist pulling her back flush against his front.
The dress she wore was almost next to perfect in Changkyun’s eyes. The same color
purple he had loved so much. His purple. It was almost too much for him to handle. Especially with the way his hands moved around her body, around her dress. It was smooth, the skin showing just the right amount of skin to make anyone go wild. Perhaps too much skin he started feeling a bit territorial.
Her presence alone was enough to fill his body with warmth. It wasn’t like the packed bodies did much. They were merely a void he’d have his mind push to the side so he could focus on her alone.
The feeling of her hands running through Changkyun’s hair was enough to let him hum out in content, but it was the feeling of her grinding against his body that drove him wild. Fingers against the silk of her dress had Changkyun’s mind on a fritz. He was barely holding himself together at the feeling of her body against his own.
Moving his hand up Changkyun caught her face turning it towards the left so he could catch her lips with his own. The taste of her cherry chapstick was enough to send Changkyun’s mind into a mess of foggy unknowns. He knew he’d be in that land for a long time.
The other hand continued to explore her body. Changkyun wanted to feel more. He needed to feel more. He wanted to know what her skin felt like against his own. He wasn't oblivious to the small whines that came from her. The music was loud, but not loud enough to hide those from the rapper.
When she turned her body around Changkyun’s hands were quick to pull her close lips connecting with hers. Now it was Changkyun’s turn to run his fingers through her h/c. Her hair was soft, surely driving the male into another state of a wild frenzy deep inside.
The moment Changkyun pulled away for some air he could only read one thing from the girl that stood right in front of him.
More.
Whether it was on purpose or accident, the soft cry that came from her when she fell onto the bed had Changkyun go crazy. Brown eyes watched as she propped herself up with a slight smirk on her face. Almost as if she knew what she did to him. Perhaps she did.
He knew she did.
Lips quickly met each other once more. This time there was no worry about where Changkyun could move his hands to. No worries that he'd expose something she didn't want to. Lips continued to fight against each other, the tongues fighting for an unnamed dominance. It was a perfect bliss that had both of them melting into a mess of ecstasy.
When their lungs cried for air Changkyun moved his lips from her own to her neck treating such like it was a canvas, and his lips were the paintbrush. The soft mewls and whimpers that came from the female below him had Changkyun wanting to rush. He knew there was more than just small cries. But Changkyun took his time marking up her neck as if it was the last thing the male could ever do.
Once satisfied with his work he pulled away immediately making eye contact with the panting girl. Her eyes were already half glossed over, lips were swollen from their little make-out session. But what Changkyun wanted to see was more. What she had hidden under the purple silk dress had been hidden from the male for far too long. He wanted to see more. To taste more.
Eyes flicked up for a moment to lock with hers to try and read what she wanted. It was almost a relief when he had read it so easily.
Make me yours.
Changkyun couldn't remember when he had taken (tore) the dress off the girl that laid in his bed. But seeing her fully exposed for him only had Changkyun’s breath hitch. It was surely a sight that Changkyun wanted to imprint in his mind forever.
Lips connected to her left breast quickly causing the girl above him to cry out in shock, the mewls and whines now something much more. Music to the males ears is more like. Alternating between the left and right breast with his lips, his hand would play with the breast that wasn't occupied with his lips.
Slowly Changkyun made his way down to the place where he wanted to be the whole night. Soft kisses peppered the girl's stomach often leaving small little bruises that'll have the girl remember this night for as long as they remained.
The smell of her arousal was enough for Changkyun’s mind to grow foggy within seconds. Such a sweet scent that he had hoped he wouldn't forget about.
Her legs were now spread open allowing him to do whatever he wanted to do to her. Teasingly he kissed the corners of her legs while brown eyes met hazy e/c. One lick parted her folds causing her to jerk in surprise and pleasure.
Changkyun was slowly getting off at the moans that emitted from her. The taste that came from her was too sweet, almost perfect. And he wanted more. To have his taste buds remember every sweet drop that her body gave him. His tongue continued to give love to her clit as he inserted a finger slowly gathering a rhythm.
Slowly, her moans turned into whines and praises. Her hands no longer grabbed at the sheets, rather they were now tangled within his hair grabbing and pulling. It didn't bother Changkyun for a moment. Instead, he enjoyed the feeling of it, and the moment it ended he knew he'd be lost.
Another finger was slid in causing the girl to cry out in pleasure. His tongue continued to include her clit while his fingers worked whatever magic they could. Changkyun knew she was close when her walls continued to clamp around his fingers. The whine that left the girl was quickly replaced with a cry of pleasure when his tongue entered inside her.
It didn't take long for her to cry out finding her release. The taste of her on Changkyun’s tongue drove the male wild. It was all he wanted to taste that whole night. Lapping up whatever was left, his lips began to leave more kisses wherever they could.
She allowed him to.
Her body glistened with sweat as his lips met her own once more, the soft moan bubbling from deep within her telling him that she enjoyed the taste left on his lips.
His hands were everywhere once more. His brain needed to remember every single little detail about her. The blocked whine told him that there was more she wanted, and who was he to throw away her want?
Pop.
The sound of their lips disconnecting from one another echoed throughout the room as he made a move to have their bodies fully meet. The unison of cries and please joined the forgotten sound. And soon the sound of the bed rocking and skin meeting was what filled the room.
Her moans were like music to his ears once more. A song so beautiful it would put his own music to shame if it were to ever meet the light of day. But he couldn’t allow it to happen for he knew he was too possessive to allow such to happen.
Fingers clasped together as her legs wrapped around his waist urging him with unspoken words to go deeper. So, he did. Deeper. Faster. He gave her his all.
Just for her.
He knew she was close. She squeezed around him tightly. And for the first time he hated it, but he couldn’t stop himself from chanting “cum around my cock baby girl” over and over like a soft cry hoping that she’d fulfill his dream.
She did.
Her cries were much louder than her moans thanks to the added pressure when his hands snuck down to give her abounded clit some love. He knew he was close. He was sloppy, and her own mixed words of “cum in me. Make me yours” filled the air over his own cries and pleas.
He couldn’t help it. He couldn’t control himself. It was too much. He listened to her. His own cum filling her up as his thrusts never seemed to let up. Not even for a second as he chanted out “mine mine mine” like a prayer.
He knew it wasn’t true. Not even when he fell beside her holding her close. And certainly not when he woke up to an empty bed and the birds chirping. He knew he shouldn’t have been disappointed. But the choked-up sob that left his lips told his heart that he once again wanted to get drunk and forget what happened.
A mistake that he had hoped would fix something. She wouldn’t stay. Not even if he got down on his knees and begged her to. He hated how easily he fell for her charms. Just like the day he fell in love with her. He knew the games she was playing.
She was toying with his emotions. Just like the day she walked out the door after their ugly argument. Just like the day she posted a picture with another man. Just like last night wearing that damned purple dress.
The tears were fresh reminders that the hanging bandages around his heart were torn open. It hurt. Hurt hurt hurt hurt. And all he could do was cry. Soft silent sobs wracking and shaking his body so much that it hurt. And not even curling up into a pitied ball would help ease the pain.
He needed her. The person that held the supply of air. And she took it and left without even looking back. That same four lettered word rang in his mind. But how could he forget it was his fault she left.
He was busy. He forgot. He became careless.
“I wouldn’t care if you left! I could have anyone!”
It made him sick knowing he didn’t feel the tasteful alcohol. Rather it was his own angered sober thoughts that voiced it. The only time he regretted his words was when she slammed the door behind her and blocked his number.
He lied to her. He couldn’t have anyone. The fame was too much. He needed her. He needed her to feel normal. To not be I.M of Monsta X. No. To be Changkyun that had his heart loved.
But it was too damaged it hurt. Everything fucking hurt.
***
He knew he should care.
His phone went off like a madman and he couldn’t find himself caring one bit. He was unmoving from where he sat. He couldn’t remember when he carried his body to his dorm room, nor could he remember anything other than what happened the night prior. Her body was all he could remember.
He was stuck. Motionless. Spiraling into the depths of emptiness and he knew he wouldn’t find his way out for a long time. So why should he care? Why should he give a damn about the world when it seemed to not want to care about him? Why was it so easy to hold onto something that didn’t want him back?
He wanted to scream, but when he opened his mouth, nothing came out. Nothing more but another pitiful cry. How had he not noticed the prickling tears that welled in his eyes like a dam ready to break? Then it broke. The ugly tears that crashed down his face ready to find a home on the ground below.
His body was shaking. When did that start? When did the hysterics start? Why did she do this to him? Why couldn’t he move on? Why couldn’t he breathe? Why why why?
He screamed.
A cry of agony that was held for no one but the pain he caused himself. He did this to himself. The scars forever there and unfading. It was unfair. Life was unfair. But he did this to himself. He could only blame himself.
Why did he let himself slip? Why couldn’t he stay home? Why couldn’t he just ask Minhyuk or maybe his closest friend Jooheon for some cheering up? And why the hell was someone blowing up his phone?
The same amount of why’s that drove a headache into his head and a heavy heart that cracked more.
He sat on his floor bawled and bare. His heart was out there that was soaked in the tears of his heartbreak. And all he could remember was the damn cherry lip gloss that stole his heart.
Who was touching him? Why was he having a panic attack? And why was he hearing the voice of the woman that left while he was asleep?
He was hyperventilating. Freaking out while clawing at his chest gasping for air that tried to fill blocked lungs. Everything hurt. His mind played too many games with him, and he certainly felt dizzy.
“Changkyun.” A voice so soft broke his heavy and intoxicating thoughts.
No.
This wasn’t real. It couldn’t. Why couldn’t he tear his eyes away from the floor. Because he knew his mind was playing games on him. Taking advantage of his broken heart. So it was to no surprise that when he did look up the only thing that stared back at him was the emptiness of his room.
There at the door stood someone he didn’t want. He wasn’t her. So why was Kihyun’s pitiful look eating away at him? Why did it hurt so much? His mouth was moving. Kihyun was talking. Blabbing away at god knows what.
“Why were you late? Why didn’t you answer? Where were you last night? Why were you slamming the doors when you came in last night? Didn’t you see that Jooheon was calling you? Hello, do you know I’m talking to you? Why are you ignoring me—?”
His questions seemed attacking, unbarring and annoying. His head was pounding. The tears were undying and painful. Why wouldn’t they stop?
“— Changkyun?” Kihyun’s voice broke through the tough wall that desperately blocked the world out. Reddened eyes filled with pain and sorrow snapped up in hopes for an escape. But nothing came. “We’re worried about you. Did you see her again?”
Kihyun knew. Kihyun knew of his fall. The fall that led him into hoping there would be a change at the end of the night. His heart that sat hopeful and half patched was shoved to break the moment of her silent departure.
And god did it hurt.
How disgustingly hopeful he was never changed the fact that she was glad and happy to leave. And it hurt. Hurt hurt hurt.
He couldn’t answer. He couldn’t even open his mouth for another choked up sob fell just like his body did into the arms of the older member. Kihyun wasn’t her. His hold was comforting like hers. But he couldn’t handle the sad and worried stares that came from Kihyun.
He was laid open and bare for his friend. So exposed as if his skin was nothing. He could barely hear the muffled whispers of the others. When did they get here? Would they be a bother? Why do they care?
At the end of the day, it was all his fucking fault.
***
“Changkyun, please eat.” Once again Kihyun’s voice broke the harsh thoughts that plagued Changkyun’s mind. So cruel and ugly tearing apart his mind.
His eyes flick up glancing between the male that had just spoken and the two beside him, Minhyuk and Hyungwon. Their gazes sat worried, questioning. It made him sick. How could they care for him when he was in the middle of losing himself? He was losing his mind.
“I’m not hungry.” His words only seemed to bother the older male. But he didn’t care. He was busy trying not to suffocate. It was hard, bothersome, and tiring. If she wasn’t by his side, then he’d rather face death. That would be more beautiful than walking around with a forced fake happiness and smile.
Ding.
When did reality seem to kick in? To break him away from the shadow that ate him whole. He blinked, looking around at the other people. They were happy, laughing and smiling. He longed for that. Longed for the simple touch of being happy.
Then he saw it. Saw her. Her smile was genuine. The same damn smile she once held for him and only him. Who was she with? Why was she here? Has she noticed him? Why didn’t she see him? Who was making her smile like that?
The world seemed to drown itself out. Just like the night before when he locked eyes on her at the club. But this time she refused to meet his gaze. It was bothersome, annoying, and irritating. Why was she acting irrational? Why couldn’t she love him?
It was easy to ignore the cries of his members. The cries telling him to stop, to think this through before something bad happens. But he didn’t care. He couldn’t care.
“Why aren’t you coming back to me? I called. You blocked my number? Why did you lead me on last night? W-Why are you with another guy? Why did you let me fuck you like we were together Y/N-“
The questions came out fast and unstopping. He was drunk on the heartbreak and the only person who held answers was the person who sat just inches away, her brows furrowed with brewing anger as the male that sat across from her held a red and flushed face.
“Changkyun—“
“No.” He hiccupped stopping her in her tracks. His hand slammed down on the table telling the other that he wasn’t backing down. “Tell me right now that you love me. That we can fix this mess. I can’t breathe without you-“
“Changkyun, stop it.” She hissed, done with his bullshit and done with the attention he was drawing in. “There is no fixing this mess. Last night was a mistake. A drunken one at that. You broke me first! You can deal with the damage that comes after. I don’t want you near me again and I sure as hell don’t want you in my life.”
No no no.
He couldn’t watch her leave. But yet he stood unmoving watching as she stood up and walked away. Out of his life. All because he was stupid. All because he fell in love and was scared. He fell for her and was still falling despite her not caring anymore.
All because he loved the taste of her damn cherry lip gloss. And he simply couldn’t let her go. Not today, not tomorrow, not ever.
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This gave me the big sad. I've been crying since I started five hours ago. Yes. FIVE HOURS. I had to take frequent breaks to let my nose clear and eyes dry, watching dance practice videos to mentally reset. Why am I always being destroyed with Tae angst?! I have a migraine now, dehydrated, hungry, lost a few points on my credit score and possibly lost my family cow. Just, ugh. The feels! I wasn't ready. I don't recommend this to the easily weepy folk like me but I don't regret this emotional trauma conga? I wanted to kick my own ass several times. Like damn, just kidnap him. This is one of those stories that'll stick with you for a good season or two like I'm legitimately cried out. I cannot make spit. I'm exhausted physically, mentally, and emotionally. Spirituality. 😭
All that aside, extremely well written. The stuff you'd expect to study in Lit or Creative Writing. I particularly love how the theme/message is a hard to swallow life lesson most people fail to grasp. Me included. Every character is flawed with our pairing being dynamic. I honestly didn't know this was so angst-y but once I started I couldn't stop. I got pulled in with a familiar situation and before I knew it was living each word. It's an unforgettable experience that captures human nature and its short comings better than most books you'd buy from published authors. Nora Roberts, eat your fucking heart out.
Now I gotta go play Minecraft. 🪓
tales of broken hearts | kth (m)
absolutely amazing banner by the one & only @kimtaehyunq <3
Summary: “Love has become a noun again.”
When a work trip brings you back home, you don’t expect for anyone to await your return or remember you. But despite the time apart, Taehyung still does – still looks at you the same way he used to five winters ago.
⋙ pairing: Taehyung x reader ⋙ rating: 18+ ⋙ genre: exes to lovers, childhood sweethearts; fluff, angst, smut ⋙ warnings: toxic parents, mentions of bullying, mentions of an accident & a few injuries, crying; my voice kink again, tae is the sweetest freaking person EVER; explicit sexual content: multiple (2) smut scenes (one is shorter), oral (f. & m. receiving), tiddie sucking, dirty talk, teasing, imagine tae’s super deep moans :), fingering, big dick tae implied, squirting, unprotected sex (be careful <3), cockwarming kinda, begging, multiple orgasms; maybe more lmk if i forgot something! ⋙ word count: 24.8k ⋙ a/n: oh god, i wrote this based on a dream … what, may last year? :’) and it’s finally here now !! sorry for making you guys wait, i hope you like it !! <3 ⋙ betas: ahhh so many people who helped me over the course of several months !! @missgeniality for beta’ing this TWICE and for letting me rant and talk her ears off, i’m nothing without you 🥺 @voiceswithoutlips @justasparkwritings @opaljm for beta’ing the first draft so beautifully and @chemicalpink & @chateautae for reading and giving me so many suggestions !! thank you so much - ALL OF YOU HAVE MY HEART <33 !!
➳ listen to the TOBH playlist for the full experience 🤎
MASTERLIST | WIPs
Love doesn’t bloom during frigid winters.
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#bts angst#taehyung angst#my therapist is gonna hear about this#taehyung smut#taehyung fluff#bts smut#bts fluff#taehyung x reader#taehyung x you#bts fic#bts fanfic#taehyung scenario#taehyung imagines
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Figure It Out
Fighting is tough, fighting illegally isn’t any better but Mingi soon realizes that he’s one bad fight away from losing the most important thing: you.
streetfighter!Mingi x reader
Genre: F2L, for the life of me can’t get boxer Mingi out of my head
w/c: 2.2k
c/w: mentions of blood, injuries, violence. There’s nothing graphic but it’s still in there
There’s not a lot of people that would knock on your door at two A.M, but there are a few. Mrs. Shin, who likes to beg you to do something about the street cats that fight just below her window. Kim Hongjoong, when he’s too exhausted to make it all the way home from his shift at the hospital. You let out a slew of curses as you fumble through the dark, sleep still heavy in your eyes.
Sometimes it’s the man that lives two doors down from you. He always claims that he mixes up three and five. You know he’s just drunk and his wife locked him out again.
“It’s two in the morning!” You rip the door open and squint at the sudden change in light.
And sometimes it’s him.
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#ateez mingi#mingi x reader#ateez imagines#ateez oneshot#mingi oneshot#mingi angst#ateez angst#kpop imagines#mingi x you#ateez fighter au#my tears are real
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😭😭💜
His Heart at Stake

Genre: Vampire AU
Pairing: Minseok x Reader
Warning: mentions of blood
Summary: Kim Minseok was cursed. Time was frozen for him, and yet, he was running out of it. Like the fairytale, he needed someone to thaw his cold, dead heart or else all that would remain of him would be a pile of ash. Just as his end was nearing, he found you. But could you learn to love the inhuman beast?
Netflix Teaser
Tao I Kris I Yixing I Luhan I Minseok
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#exo vampire au#minseok angst#xiumin angst#exo minseok#exo xiumin#xiumin x reader#minseok x reader#vampire!xiumin#vampire!minseok
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I cried so hard I got nauseous. 😭😭😭 still crying.
High
Addiction. In more ways than one.
He was going to start this year off right. Truly, he was. That was his plan, that’s what he told himself as he took three Benadryl to force his unwilling body to go to sleep at three am. He’d woken up sick (he always does after taking Benadryl, he might be intolerant of it. He doesn’t really care) and barely able to get out of bed, barely able to drag himself out of the dirty bedsheets.
When he did, his vacant expression staring blankly back at him from the cracked mirror in the bathroom, he decided that he already failed. His reflection made him want to throw up, so he slunk back into his room and rummaged around until he found a small packet of weed tossed haphazardly under a pile of soiled laundry.
He rolled a blunt, smoked it down to the nub, forced himself into the shower where he fought an intense war against invisible, giant rubber ducks which caused him to miss the entirety of his first class.
Unbothered, Kim Taehyung plopped down on the first chair he saw, deep in the back of the classroom. He barely raised his hand when his name was called, didn’t even look at the syllabus that was passed back to him. The man was thoroughly zoned out, staring unblinkingly at the back of some poor kid’s head. He was on the brink of falling asleep when someone tapped his shoulder. He ignored it the first time, and the second, but by the third, his nonchalance was turning into annoyance.
He rolled his neck over to his left side, head propped up on one hand.
The person in question was a girl who looked like she put much too much effort into her appearance today, some remnant of the juvenile desire to give a good impression on the first day remaining in her system.
“Excuse me,” she said.
He just looked at her, disinterested.
“You’re supposed to pass the papers this way. I need mine,”
Taehyung simply leaned against the back of his chair, gesturing for the girl to take the small stack.
She didn’t sit next to him again and he didn’t care, some days not even showing up. Those days are the bad ones, where his self-loathing was so suffocating he could barely breathe, thoughts so loud he couldn’t hear his own heartbeat.
Taehyung wasn’t sure he’d even be able to tell if the shriveled organ stopped beating altogether.
He was pulled aside one day when he gathered enough willpower to leave his house. The teacher gave a long speech that boiled down to ‘You’re going to flunk out if you don’t pass this class’. He pretended to care (poorly) and the teacher gave him a slip of yellow paper. He was supposed to report to the school library for tutoring every Tuesday and Thursday.
He ignored it, tutoring not on his list of things he wanted to put effort into. Instead, he crashed on the friend of a friend’s couch, snorting lines of cocaine off of empty pizza boxes and drinking beer that tasted like piss.
Tae was taken by surprise when he’d been violently dragged into an empty room by some girl one Friday afternoon.
“Look, doll, if you’re looking for a hookup, you’re not my type, sorry,” he said, giving the girl a once over.
That was a lie. The girl in question was very pretty indeed, and he certainly wouldn’t mind wasting away with her for a few hours. But the urge to go smoke something was stronger than any boner he could pop at the moment.
The girl simply gave him a disgusted look.
“I’m YN,”
It’s obvious that Taehyung had no idea who she was.
“Your tutor. You’re supposed to meet me twice a week. You’ve been bailing for the last three weeks,”
Taehyung sighed then gave a half-hearted shrug.
“Couldn’t be bothered,”
“Truthfully, I don’t care. What I do care about is the fact that these are supposed to be my volunteer hours for the semester. So I need you to stay here and at least pretend to care about your future,”
Taehyung’s face scrunched up.
“You think you’re better than me, huh?”
“Than you? The boy who comes to class half the time and when he does, he always smells like pot? The guy whose average is .2 points away from flunking? Oh, no. Of course not,”
The man rolled his eyes and turned to leave.
“Just stay at least this once, huh. So I can at least say I tried,”
“That sounds like you’re asking me for a favor,”
“I’ll buy you a cheeseburger,”
“Deal,” Taehyung agreed, always in the mood for food, “But we’re doing this outside. I need a smoke and I don’t feel like setting off the alarms again,”
Outside, the girl stood at least twenty feet away from him, reading something from the textbook.
“You’re too far away from me for this to be even slightly helpful,” He said, inhaling his second cigarette.
“I’m trying not to throw up being this close. I’m not moving even an inch,”
Groaning, he stomped out the light and moved over to her, sitting down on the uncomfortable bench she lurked next to.
“You still smell disgusting,”
“I can leave at any time,”
“Fine,”
And so the tradition began. At first, Taehyung only went to the sessions because YN always bought them food afterward, but slowly, as the weeks passed by, he showed because the sound of her voice made the noise in his head quiet down.
He found himself with half completed assignments on his lap as his thoughts flicked over to the tangent she went off on about a certain teacher who always cheated everyone out of at least five points on every test, the way her face screwed up in that cute way that was nearly as addictive as the shit in his veins.
It was November when he confessed, only to have his heart broken as she smiled apologetically at him, explaining that his infinity for chasing various highs was a no go for her, but they could remain friends.
Friends.
He nearly overdosed on some unmarked pills he’d been given by a friend of a friend and YN was the only one who came to visit him. It was her crying that woke him up only to be scolded from there to high heaven.
He’d felt guilty, more emotion flooding through him than he could remember in a long time. He hated himself, yes, but she didn’t. Maybe that was enough.
It was for a while. The outings the two of them said were between friends but weren’t. The feel of her skin against his after a particularly long day, silence more comforting than any sound he’d ever heard.
She let him kiss her once, after a day where he’d been particularly optimistic, talking about futures and houses and adventures the two of them would go on.
There were bad days as well. When she took him to meet her parents (”Mom, Dad, this is my friend Taehyung,”) and he could practically feel the disapproval coming off of the couple in disappointed, judgemental waves.
It was that day the two of them fought for the first time, Taehyung upset for the way YN let him be pushed around and picked at, only for her to retaliate and say he shouldn’t have given them something to pick at.
She was a hair’s breadth away from calling him useless and they both knew it.
He took his first hit of heroin that night, alone in the apartment he hated, his bathroom mirror completely shattered in a fit of self-loathing fueled fury.
She apologized a week later when Taehyung could be mistaken for a ghost, a shell of a human being with eyes sunken in and skin without color. She let him hold her hand that day. He gripped it tighter every time he heard whispers of her deserving better, the words settling into his heart.
Another fight, this time after he promised he’d quit cocaine. He did quit it, as long as she was with him. But nights were lonely and he couldn’t overcome the desire for some sort of comfort. What other choice did he have, when she wasn’t around?
She was so disappointed when she found out and that hurt more than anything. He would have preferred if she shouted at him, called him pathetic or a waste of life. But instead, she sighed like the whole world rested on her shoulders and left, refusing to pick up his calls.
It was meth the next time. He vaguely wondered what would kill him first, the drugs or the heartbreak.
She pretended she didn’t know him when he’d rung her doorbell at one in the morning, pounding the door and screaming apologies, begging, pleading for her to let him in. He was empty on the inside where the warmth of a spirit was supposed to exist. He guessed his was dead. All he wanted was for her to hold him. He slept on her porch in the middle of winter.
She’d had a long week, Finals and stress and God, she missed Taehyung. It was so easy to nearly cave every time she caught him staring at her, eyes holding more sadness than any one person should ever have to have. She pretended not to notice the way he followed her from a distance, making sure she got home safely when her classes ran late into the night.
She couldn’t help but wonder why she was doing it. Why not just throw caution to the wind and jump into his frail arms like they’re made of steel? It was a feeble attempt to keep her heart from the inevitable shattering she knew he’d cause her.
It didn’t matter. She walked into the cloud he always hid behind and took him into her arms, silent tears cascading down her cheeks.
Her heart was already broken.
There were better days. When the two of them could pretend everything was alright, where they strolled through parks and took photos and smiled like everyone else.
But then there were worse days. When fights about rehab would turn into screaming matches. She threw a vase at him once and the glass shattered beneath his bare feet. He didn’t feel the pain when he stepped through it.
And then …
Then came the day where a friend of a friend was over, where the smoke in the kitchen was too thick to see through, when the laughter was closer to hysteria.
YN was there. She wanted to leave as soon as she saw who was at Taehyung’s door.
He persuaded her not to. To stay. He assured her that he’d be gone after just a few rounds of whatever he brought.
She tried to persuade him not to get in the car with poison in his veins after Taehyung had discovered he’d run out of beer. He wouldn’t listen to her, the high giving him inflated confidence in his abilities. Who cared if he could barely stand up straight? She begged him not to go out and felt embarrassment flood him when the friend of a friend laughed, teased him about being whipped.
He was, entirely, but his delirious ego couldn’t stand the insult. (Was it an insult?)
Taehyung slapped her when she tried to take the keys, shoved her out of the way when she offered to drive instead. He said nothing when she climbed into the passenger seat, gently cradling her stinging cheek.
He found out later, once he woke up from the two-month-long coma the accident put him in, that she hadn’t died instantly when Taehyung drove ninety miles an hour headfirst off of a cliff. He found out that she’d suffocated slowly, painfully over the course of however many hours as she struggled against broken ribs, her lungs barely inflating. She was grey when they found her, he was told. Her legs had been caught up in the remnants of the car door, mangled beyond belief, but she wouldn’t have felt that.
Your body shuts down after a certain amount of pain.
And the baby. Oh, the baby. It was six months along, already so small and weak from all the poison her mother had been ingesting second hand that she died just seconds after her mother had.
It broke him when he discovered the small box YN had stashed away, a small onesie and an old pregnancy test resting inside. The letter was short and sweet, relaying the love of his life’s struggle to tell him, afraid of his reaction. YN barely showed, hiding any excess roundness with baggy clothing.
Taehyung hadn’t noticed.
He considered ending it all. Jumping off that same cliff to join the only people he ever loved, but he couldn’t. The image of the disappointed eyes YN gave him haunted him, keeping him from the edge.
How selfish could he possibly be? Kill the reason he believed he was still human, that maybe some goodness did exist, then throw himself away as well. He couldn’t do that to her. No, when he dies, he wants to be able to tell her about all the great things he’d done in his life, all the people he helped, all the lives he turned around.
“I’ll make you proud,” he whispers into the night air, eyes searching the starry sky desperately for some sign that she’s listening, “I promise,”
Somewhere, an angel watches over him, fondness in her soul.
“I love you, Kim Taehyung,” she whispers out, knowing he can feel it in his heart, “You’ll be amazing,”
#bts taehyung#bts v#taehyung angst#v angst#stiiiiiiill crying#ultimate bias wrecker#damn#😭😭😭#i'm so 😭😭😭😭#me: 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭#my heart 😭😭😭😭#omg 😭😭😭😭#why am i like this
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😭 The dread I felt turned to nausea as my tears continued to flow. This was poetic.
Cut
Namjoon always hated soulmates
Namjoon had always believed soulmates were the dumbest thing this world ever came up with. He remembers when he first learned the concept in fifth grade - his teacher was gushing about how perfect soulmates were for each other, how no one could understand someone like their fated mate, how utterly amazing the gift of soulmates were.
As a ten-year-old, Namjoon sat at his desk nearly gagging over his teacher’s words.
How could being forced to love someone be a gift? How is having your freedom stripped away from you a blessing?
He didn’t understand it then and as he grew older, Namjoon only became more convinced soulmates were a nightmare disguised as a daydream. It all seemed so fake, so artificial that he couldn’t help but speak out about it every chance he got.
While a majority of people looked at him like he was crazy, there were a handful who agreed with his positions, causing the young adult to form a close-knit bond with them. The small group often went to Chosen parties - secret meetings of other nonbelievers - and discussed their beliefs, frequently hooking up with people they found attractive.
The sex was a thrill in itself, but the taboo nature of it was what really drove Namjoon wild. There was something so free about being entangled within the throes of passion with someone he’ll never see again. It was a fresh start every time - a new beginning.
He couldn’t comprehend how someone could be satisfied with one person for the entirety of their life. It would get so repetitive, so bland.
No, his way was certainly the way to go.
It was because of one of these hookups he stumbled into class late one day, hair in a bird’s nest and clothes wrinkled beyond reason. Snickers had broken out as soon as he stepped foot into the lecture room, but he hadn’t paid it any attention, more worried about his professor’s reaction to his tardiness.
This particular professor was pretty laid back, so she simply raised an eyebrow before telling him to take his seat.
His usual spot had been taken so he lumbered to a chair in the back of the large room, plopping his bag down by a girl he’d never seen before.
She laughed slightly at his appearance to which Namjoon glared slightly.
“Looks like someone’s soulmate is a bit wild,” she said lowly, smiling at him kindly.
At this, Namjoon rolled his eyes.
“I wouldn’t know. Never met her,” he replied coolly, watching as realization dawned on the girl’s face.
“Oh,” she replied, looking a bit like she didn’t know what to say to that.
“Got a problem?” Namjoon snaps.
He was much too worn out to be judged.
The girl shook her head.
“No. I was just a bit caught off guard is all. But anyway, you didn’t miss much. If you read the first few pages of chapter twelve, you’ll be all caught up,” she said, smiling politely before turning her attention back on the teacher.
And thus began an interesting friendship. The girl, YN her name was, turned out to be a devout believer in the supposed magic that was soulmates. But instead of Namjoon’s intense hatred of the concept making her uncomfortable, she allowed him to rant as often as he wanted to.
YN was always open and happy, balancing out Namjoon’s more somber personality. They could read each other well, always being able to tell when something was wrong with the other.
Weeks turned into months and friendship turned into a crush, Namjoon growing to like YN more and more each day.
It terrified him. He’d never held any other emotion but lust for a girl. The man never slid into fantasies about holding hands or going on cute dates, about snuggling up for a movie or coming home to her smiling face after a long day.
His fear only deepened knotting day approached. The day occurred once a year and marked the arrival of the soulmate strings. Every pair of soulmates who had met in the last year would find themselves tied to their partner with a thin red string.
Namjoon was worried that YN had met her match, that she’d be mated and his silly dreams would shatter around him as she waltzed off with whatever lucky bastard she’d been destined for.
It made him angry, so angry he forced himself to go to another Chosen party on Knotting Eve, ignoring YN’s request to wait for the clock to hit midnight together.
At midnight, Namjoon was lost in the haze of some leggy redhead he’d barely met.
At midnight, Namjoon failed to notice the pesky little string tying itself around his pinky.
Half past midnight, YN’s excitement over meeting her soulmate turned to bitter dread as her string led her to the familiar door of Namjoon’s small apartment. Her heart cracked in half when soft moaning could be heard wafting through the thin walls as Namjoon groaned out the name of some girl who certainly wasn’t her.
It was like she couldn’t breathe. YN’s head swam as the night blurred together, the girl staggering and nearly falling to the ground.
She barely made it to her house as tears blinded her, her lungs unable to take in enough air to breathe.
Out of all the people in the world, it had to be Namjoon. Namjoon, who hated his soulmate for existing. Namjoon, who always teased her for her rose-colored view of the world. Namjoon, who had more lovers than she could count on both hands.
Two hours of crying and she knew what she had to do.
The only way he’d ever be happy was if she was gone. Completely out of the picture.
With strong resolve, YN makes her decision.
The next morning, Namjoon wakes up to an empty bed and a text from YN.
Dear Joonie,
I am so sorry. A million years could go by and I’d never be able to tell you how sorry I am. These last few months of getting to know you have truly been a blessing, my own little slice of paradise. Even though we were fire and ice, I’ve always been so glad I met you. I’m sorry you’re stuck in a system you hate so much, but the good thing is you won’t have to worry about it anymore. Consider it a gift.
I know this is all you’ve ever wanted. I’m glad I can give it to you!
Happy Knotting Day, Namjoon! Mark it as the day you truly received your freedom!
With love,
Your soulmate,
YN
It’s only then the man notices the limp grey string dangling haplessly from his finger, the end curled and frayed.
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I cried so much and so hard. I hope my own writing becomes this great one day. 💔
Marvel (prol.)
Synopsis: Park Jimin was much too familiar with how one night stands work. Not because he engaged in them often. As a matter of fact, he had only hit the sack with a stranger once. But that feeling of hurt - of disappointment - plagued him. Because a lot can happen in a single night. From falling in love with a foreign girl in a matter of hours inside of a shitty 7/11 to the small girl staring up at him with galaxies in her doe eyes.
Prologue
Jimin remembered that day vividly, despite the heavy amount of alcohol he had consumed.
Too often thoughts of that day plagued his mind, seeping into the forefront of his brain when he zoned out or saw something that reminded him or her.
Her.
Her name was - is - Gaia.
A girl he had met unwillingly four years ago after a fight with the members. He couldn’t remember what they had fought about. It wasn’t important.
What was important was the young, foreign girl sitting behind the window of a 7/11, nursing a bottle of Coca-Cola with a far-off look in her eyes. Drunk as he was, being kicked out of the bar just minutes ago, he wondered what on Earth she was doing there. It had to have been at least two in the morning. It was late when he had stormed out of the dorms, around eleven or so, and he had been downing whiskey for quite a while.
He stared there from the shadows for a moment more, debating whether he should go in or not. The rational part told him no.
What if she recognized him?
What if the cashier did?
And even if neither of them knew who he was, what would he even say? He had no idea if she spoke Korean and his English wasn’t good enough to have a conversation worth anything.
But his stomach decided to growl loudly at that moment, making his decision easier. He was starving. He hadn’t eaten a thing while he was drinking and knew he would regret it later. So, excuse firmly in a jumbled mind, Park Jimin walked into the convenience store.
The girl didn’t look up as he entered and the idol couldn’t help but feel disappointed. He wasn’t sure exactly what he had been expecting, but nothing definitely wasn’t it. Taking this as a sign, he grabbed a random cup of Ramen before circling back and grabbing two more, heading to the register and dumping them unceremoniously on the counter. The cashier was half asleep and rung up his items without so much as looking at him. Regardless, Jimin was glad he had enough sense to wear his mask and a floppy hat out.
Nodding in thanks, Jimin walked to the exit only to stop beside the girl and plop down on the seat next to her, opening one of the cups of noodles. This action jerked her out of whatever la la land she had immersed in.
Up close, Jimin realized that she was beautiful. Stunning in that doe-eyed, angelic way few possessed. She wore her hair - wild and curly - stacked up on top of her head messily, as if she did it whilst running out of the house, late to some event. Her nose was small and her cheeks slightly rounded, like she hadn’t quite shed her childhood. Despite this, her figure was fully developed, curves running up and down her body. Big brown eyes looked at him curiously, framed by long, dark lashes. They widened when the two locked gazes.
He realized he was staring when she cleared her throat slightly. He quickly looked away, muttering an apology under his breath and resuming preparing the meal.
He could have sworn she was blushing. It was a bit hard to tell under the fluorescent lights and the caramel of her skin.
He didn’t look at her while he ate the first cup. She didn’t move, only occasionally lifting the plastic bottle to her lips to take a tiny sip of her soda.
Halfway through the second cup, Jimin decided he couldn’t stand the silence. His curiosity was killing him.
The cashier was snoring.
“Hi,” He said quietly.
“Hello,” She said back just as softly.
From there he was stuck. Any other English he knew slipped his mind as he found himself staring at her.
“Can I help you?” She says, sounding unsure.
The phrase is in Korean, a few syllables sounding off.
He was a bit surprised she spoke any of his language, but Jimin decided to continue.
“Why … are you here? It’s late,” He said, trying to make the phrase easy to understand.
She pulls her brows together in thought before frowning.
For a moment, Jimin thought she couldn’t understand, but she shook her head.
“Couldn’t sleep,” she says, pulling on the top long sleeves of her top.
Looking at her now, he noticed the sleep shirt peeking out from under the hoodie she had on. Beneath it she sad a small pair of shorts on. Her legs were long, feet uncovered and a pair of green flip flops on the floor.
“Me either,” He says, eyes slowly raking up to land on her face.
She was definitely blushing now.
“I’m Gaia,”
“Jimin,” He replies, pulling the stupid hat off of his head and running his hands through his hair.
“I know who you are,” She says, so quietly he almost missed it.
Panic flashed through him for a moment before she shakes her head.
“Don’t worry. I won’t tell anyone I saw you,”
Relief flows through Jimin, even though he had no way of knowing if she’s lying or not.
He should leave now. He knows it, so he finished his second cup rapidly, standing up quickly only to stumble slightly. The girl - Gaia - stood up, wrapping small, warm fingers around his arm to stabilize the idol.
“Maybe you should take a cab,” She says, sounding worried.
He nods. That’s probably the best thing. It’d be unfortunate for Jimin to end up in a ditch somewhere.
It took him two seconds to realize he’d left his phone at the bar. He cursed loudly, running his hands through his hair again.
Gaia noticed his distress.
“Need me to walk you home?”
He shook his head, the movement making him want to vomit.
“No - the members can’t seemelike,” he gagged, “this,”
Twenty minutes of deliberation later, Jimin followed the stranger to her hotel room where she offered him to stay until he was sober.
He had only been in the small hotel room for about an hour and he already felt a million times better, the several glasses of water Gaia’s made him drink and the pain pills he had taken straightening him up nicely.
But he faked still being under the influence. Faked it because it was nice, simply sitting on a couch and watching some B roll film on the outdated television set. Faked it because it’d been much too long since he ever did something like this - watching a movie with a girl as Park Jimin. He wasn’t Park Jimin of BTS at this moment. He hadn’t been him since he walked into the 7/11.
No, he was just a no longer intoxicated man who met a girl at a convenience store and had taken an instant liking to her. A liking that had increased over the hours until he found his heart beating faster when she made a noise as one of the characters did something on screen. A liking that had him leaning his head on her shoulder as one film ended and another started.
The next thing he knew, he was kissing her. And she felt so soft and warm that all logic flew from his head. So comfortable, so familiar, that he kissed her like he loved her.
And maybe he did. Maybe all it took was a handful of hours and shitty movies to make him fall in love. Or maybe it was just her.
He slept with her that night. The desire, the feeling of desperation overwhelming him to the point that he thought he would go insane if he didn’t because he knew.
He knew after that day he wouldn’t see her again. That the paradise that a few private hours of ramen and flip-flops and bad movies and her would end and he’d have to go back to the world he loved, the beautifully suffocating world of stardom.
Jimin was sure he loved her when her fingers tangled in his hair, when his name fell from her swollen lips like a prayer, and when she buried her face in his neck, the feeling of her wrapped around him euphoric and warm.
He wanted to carve that night four years ago into his brain.
But he had accepted that paradise was only a night long as he snuck away from her sleeping form and headed back home.
So why, years later, is he seeing the face he could never forget strolling through a park in Seoul with a small child on her hip, grinning at the little girl that looked much too familiar.
“Stop the car,”
Chapter One
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💔
Her dress is Karma, Perfume Regret... {Namjoon Oneshot}
Namjoon legitimately dropped his glass of wine when his ex-girlfriend, Y/n walks into the ball room, sending shards of glass all over the floor next to his dates foot, making her let out a squawk and whine. Everyone turns to look at her, either jealous or turned on. She’s clad in a little red dress, tight around her waist. It has an open back that goes low, stopping at her tail bone. Her cleavage is on display, showing off her perky breasts. Namjoon feels his pants tighten slightly and he doesn’t see the glare that his date is throwing him.
Y/n smirks at everyone as she struts her way through the dance floor and over to Jimin whos smiling in awe at her. All eyes follow her. She ignores Namjoon who she walks by, making him frown as she walks over to Jimin. Jimin welcomes her with open arms, laughing in glee.
“Holy shit y/n. You look flawless.” He praises, and you give him a little spin, grinning happily.
“Thanks babe.” You reply with a sweet smile.
Namjoon hears this and tenses slightly. His date fawns over him, basically BEGGING for attention, so he turns back to her, deciding to ignore the fact that his best friend and ex girlfriend and virtually flirting up a storm.
Y/n and Jimin spend over an hour just walking around and greeting people, having the time of their lives. Namjoon feels a spark of irritation every time some guy walks up to her flirting. He relaxes slightly when she turned everyone of them down, but it irritated him that she continued to treat Jimin as her date. At this point, his date had walked off with a couple of her friends she had brought, pissed about the lack of attention she was getting.
Namjoon stood watching Y/n laugh at one of Jimin’s jokes, his heart hurting slightly. He knew this was his fault. He hadn’t appreciated you enough. He cheated on you constantly. He was an asshole. He hurt you and he never expected you to break up with him. The day you did, he was surprised. But he didn’t really care. He let you pack up your stuff while drinking a beer on the couch. He wasn’t bothered in the slightest by your silent tears. He wasn’t bothered when you left and never came back. But that was four months ago. Within a couple of weeks after your break up, he started missing her like crazy.
Y/n decided to be a tease. She spun around and glances at Namjoon who was staring intensely at her. She smirked at him to which his heart skipped a beat and he smirked slyly back. She excused herself from Jimin and walked towards an eager Namjoon.
“Hello Namjoon.” She purred, cocking her head to the side with a sexy smirk.
Namjoon smirked back confidently and answered. “Hello Y/n”. He replied coolly.
She smirked and spun back around and walked out of the ball room and to the hall, leaving a smirking Namjoon behind. He waited 2 minutes before following her out. He walked down the silent hall, searching for her when he was suddenly pulled into an empty dark ballroom and is pushed against the door. He sees it’s just Y/n and smirks, then tries to walk towards her. She simply holds her hand up and raises an eyebrow.
“You woulda thought. No touching me. Only I get to touch today.” She says with a no nonsense voice.
Namjoon shrugs and back up against the door. Y/n smirks and walks up to him. He bristles in excitement as she trails a hand down his chest, going lower and lower. She stops and doesn’t touch him where he needs it most, making him frown in frustration. She looks at him for a second, then she slams her lips against his in a hard, demanding kiss. Namjoon kisses her back, struggling to keep his hands to himself, lest she just leave him here The scent of her perfume drives him mad with lust, clouding his senses as she dominates him with a kiss. Y/n grins into the kiss at his self control.
She unlatches her lips from his and moves to his neck, where she leaves painfully obvious hickeys and bruises. She grinds her free hand against his hardening cock, making him hiss. She pulls back and uses both hands to rip his dress shirt open, sending buttons flying. He stares down at her in shock. She’d never shown any desire to be dominant before, but it was clear that she had a knack for it. He let out a gasp and whimpered as she shoved her hand down his pants and began to stroke his length teasingly while peppering kisses on his chest. He whined as she stroked him faster, swirling her thumb around the head of his dripping cock.
“Fuck! Y/n, please more!” He cried out.
Y/n decided to tease him and began stroking him slower, only increasing pressure at the tip. She smirked as his hair stuck to the sweat on his forehead, fingers clenching and unclenching in an effort not to touch her. His legs shook and he threw his head back, letting out a broken moan as she bit into one of his nipples, hard. She continued her actions, continuously speeding up the movement of her hand till he was on the brink of cumming, then slowing down, leaving him whining and whimpering for more while she covered his skin with hickeys and bruises. She started to stroke him again, making him whine in sensitivity. She watched his expressions; how his hair fell into his eyes, how his plump pink lips fell open letting out sweet little whines and moans, how he bit his lip trying to hold them back, how his cheeks were flushed red. It was disgusting. He seemed so innocent at this moment, when in reality, he was a conniving, cheating snake. She had come here intent on revenge when she heard he was bringing a girl he’d been fucking for a while as his date.
She smirked as his whines became high in pitch again, as his hips thrust into her hand, chasing his orgasm. His chest rose and fell rapidly, as he felt himself finally reach his peak when everything stopped. Y/n ripped her hand out of his pants and took three steps away from him. He huffed and panted, staring at her in a mixture of shock, anger, and sexual frustration. Y/n simply stared at him with a blank look.
“What the hell Y/n?!” Namjoon yelled, voice shaking with the need to cum. Y/n smirked and shook her head at him. Then she started to laugh.
Namjoon stared at her in confusion, that slowly faded to realization as the beautiful girl in front of him guffawed loudly at his expense.
“Y-you actually thought for a fucking second, that I wanted you back? That I was gonna let you cum? Are you fucking nuts?” She asked through her giggling.
She finally calmed herself down enough and looked up, smirking at the sight before her. Namjoon’s eyes were filled with unshed tears as he stared at the floor. He knew he deserved this. Even worse. He deserved for her to hit him, deny him more. He deserved to die for what he did to her, and he couldn’t muster up enough courage to apologize.
“Y-y/n…” He started, voice breaking.
“Shut the fuck up.” She barked, fists clenching in rage.
“Do you know how I felt? What you did to me? You asshole. I fucking loved you! I quit my job so I could go on tour with you, only to find out that you cheated on me in every. fucking. city!” She yelled, voice shaking at the end of her sentence. She paused and took a deep breath, holding back tears.
Namjoon stepped towards her to comfort her, but was strongly rebuked as she stepped back with a palm out.
“Don’t you fucking. touch me.” She growled, voice shaking in anger. Namjoon stopped and stepped back, looking at the floor again.
Y/n shut her eyes and took a deep breath, willing herself to not get emotional. She opened her eyes and looked at the disappointment she used to call her boyfriend.
“Not a single call. Not a single text. I always had a feeling you never loved me, but that really surprised me.” She said, voice steady as she looked at me. He quickly looked up at her, tears running down his face.
“That’s not true y/n! I love you! I always have! I-I was just being stupi-” He tried to explain, but she cuts him off.
“I’m not here for excuses. I’m here to put my soul at peace. Also, to assure myself that there’s no need to feel guilty when I fuck Jimin tonight.” She said, adding the last part to hurt him.
Namjoon felt his heart crack in half at the statement and tears began to run down his face freely. His boner was long gone. He ran a hand through his hair as he tried his hardest to stop the tears that wouldn’t stop coming.
“You’re gonna remember this day for the rest of your life. That is of course, if you have a heart in that chest of yours. If not, whatever.” She says, picking at her nails absentmindedly as she tore down Namjoon with her harsh words.
“I’m done here. I just wanted your full and undivided attention. It worked. Thank you for this. I feel better already.” She giggled, giddy as can be, making Namjoon feel worse.
“Alright then. Have a good life Kim Namjoon. Hope I never see you again.” She said, a sense of finality in her voice, and then she turned around and walked away, out the hall and into the ball room to Jimin, not looking back even once.
She and Jimin stayed for a couple more hours till the party ended while Namjoon sobbed silently in the empty ball room. He cried for her. He cried for himself. He cried for his sins. He cried for her anger. He cried for their dead future. As Y/n finally left the ballroom with her arm linked with Jimin’s, they walked past the empty ballroom where she had left Namjoon. She felt a twinge in her chest. It was her heart breaking again. She stared for a moment then turned away, smiling happily at Jimin.
As they walked out of the building, arm in arm to a hopefully better future, a final thought about Namjoon thumped against her soul. He didn’t even say-
****
“I’m sorry.” Namjoon whispered into the dark, finally, as he felt a part of him leave with her, never again to return.
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