dae-chwiita

[dae-chwiita]

Haunted By His Name

Pairing : fwb!Mingi x f!Reader x exbf!Jungkook (mentioned)

Summary : Jungkook broke up with you and to try to heal the pain by sleeping with your best friend Mingi. A month later, while you’re spending the evening at his place, you miss your ex a little too much. But Mingi, being the good friend he is, helps you get him off your mind, even if he knows you’re only using him.

Warnings : SMUT, vaginal pen., handjob for both, rough sex, dirty talk, possessive, mentions of ex bf, being used for sex, feeling guilty

A/N : don’t really know what to put for warnings, just know it’s kind of sad with rough sex ig also, first time posting full smut so hope its good

——

You don’t know how you ended up here again.

It’s been exactly one month since Jungkook left you. One month of endless nights spent tossing and turning, replaying your last conversation over and over in your mind.

“We need to end this, i’m sorry.“

His words echo in your head, and no matter how much you try to push them away, they come back with the sting of the breakup. You should’ve been better about this, but... Mingi. Mingi’s always been there for you, your best friend since forever. You used to think nothing could break the bond you had, but here you are, and you know exactly what you’ve turned to him for. He’s always been the one who knows when you’re faking a smile, when you’re pretending you’re okay. His eyes catch yours, and he just knows. He knows exactly what’s going on inside your head, maybe that’s why he was the one you turned to the night Jungkook left, because you knew he would know what’s going on without having to tell him. That night, it’s a blur. You remember that you got drunk, too drunk. And it felt good to be held in his arms, for once, it felt like someone cared, someone other than the one who shattered your heart. His touch was soothing, and before you knew it, you were tangled up in his sheets, the heat of the moment drowning out the pain of your breakup. You didn’t talk about it the next morning, but you could see the way he looked at you. You knew he understood why you didn’t look at him the way he did, but you also knew this wasn’t right. You weren’t using him, at least not in the way you wanted to believe, you were just... trying to forget. You don’t know if it’s denial or self-sabotage, yet here you are, standing in his apartment once again, trying to drown out your own thoughts. It’s just supposed to be another night of distractions, another night where you and Mingi can sit on the couch, laugh, talk about life, just forget about everything else. But deep down, you know you’re lying to yourself. You’re lying about the fact that you’re not here for a reason. He’s sitting on the couch, his broad shoulders relaxed as he flips through channels, his deep voice making casual conversation with you while you stare as his exposed bare arms, flexing ever so slightly at his subtle movements. It’s always been so easy to talk to him, even when your mind’s elsewhere. But tonight, it’s different. There’s a tension hanging between you two that you can’t ignore.

“I can’t stop thinking about it, Mingi.” You admit softly, breaking the silence. You’re not sure why you say it, but it feels like it’s been building up inside you all day. “Jungkook... he really did it. He really left me.”

He doesn’t say anything for a moment, just watching you carefully, his lips tight. You know he wants to say something comforting, yet he holds back. Because Mingi knows. He knows what you want, and he’s always been the one to give you everything you want.

“Wanna get out of your head?” he asks, his voice low. “Just forget about him for a while?“

You look at him, your gazes locking for the briefest moment before you nod. Without a word, he sit to pull you toward him, his large hands steady as they wrap around your waist, pulling you onto his lap. Your heart skips a beat, but you don’t stop it. You should. You should push away and tell him this is wrong, but you don’t. You want it, you need it. The sound of his breath as he pulls you closer is louder than the TV, the noise of whatever channel you're on drowned by your ragged breathing. His lips find your neck, his hands grazing the sides of your body, sending electric shocks through you. You’ve convinced yourself it’s the only way to stop the constant ache, to stop thinking about him.

“Mingi…” you breathe, your voice shaky.

He looks down at you, his eyes dark, but there’s a tenderness there that you can’t ignore. You see the way he’s holding back, the way he’s always held back, like he’s scared to push too far. You don’t give him the chance to stop as you look intensly into his eyes, and for a moment, you see Jungkook's reflection in them. The same caring gaze, the same warm smile...As you lean in to kiss him, you feel a pang of guilt. This isn't Jungkook, and you shouldn't be using him like this, but the need is too strong, and you push those thoughts aside. Mingi's lips are soft and tentative, as if asking for permission to deepen the kiss. You give it without hesitation, parting your lips and inviting him in. He responds eagerly, his hands roaming over your body, exploring every inch of your skin as if memorizing it like it's the last time he'll be able to do it. You kiss him harder, letting him in, letting him fill the void that Jungkook left behind. Your hands find their way to his shirt, pulling it over his head, revealing the chiseled abs and muscular chest you've admired from afar for weeks now. As your hands trace the contours of his body, your mind wanders back to Jungkook, to the way his muscles felt under your fingertips, to the way his heart would race when you kissed him like that.

"You're mine tonight." He whispers in your ear, licking the skin behind it.

You nod, and he takes that as the green light to continue. He kisses down your neck, his teeth grazing the sensitive skin, making you gasp. You close your eyes, trying to focus on the feeling of Mingi's mouth on you, his hands unbuttoning your jeans and sliding them down your legs. But all you can see is Jungkook's face, the way he would look at you when he wanted you, when he needed you. Mingi's hand finds your bare thigh, and he runs his fingers up and down, leaving a trail of fire in their wake. You lean back into the couch, your body arching towards him, his touch is feather-light as he caresses you, his fingers dancing over your skin as if he's worshipping every inch of your body. His mouth is hot and demanding, his tongue tracing the shell of your ear, making you shiver. You grip the couch cushion, imagining it's Jungkook's dark hair you're holding onto.

"Jungkook…" you suddenly whimper, bitting your lower lip.

Mingi's touch falters for just a moment, but he says nothing, continuing his exploration, his love for you stronger than any hurt this single word is causing him. He kisses you deeply, his tongue dancing with yours as if trying to claim you, to remind you that he's the one here, the one touching you, the one who cares for you. But all you can taste is the memory of your ex’s kisses, the way he used to devour you while the coldness of his piercing grazed your flushed lips. Mingi's hand slides up your shirt, cupping your breast, and you moan into his mouth instantly. His thumb flicks over your hard nipple, and you can't help but think of Jungkook's rougher touch, the way he knew exactly how to make you beg for more.

"More, please." you breathe, and Mingi obliges, his hand moving to your other breast, his mouth following the path his hand has taken.

He kisses and licks and sucks, and you feel yourself getting wetter, your pities uncomfortably soak between your legs. You reach down to unbuckle his pants, your hand trembling with need. As you pull him free, he groans, his eyes never leaving yours. You wrap your hand around his hard length, stroking him gently. You look up into his half opened eyes, shinning with pleasure, and for a moment, you see those brown boba eyes filled with lust that you knew so well staring right back at you. Lowering your gaze, you look at his half open mouth as he pants heavily and you hallucinate a piercing on the side of those red wet lips, that image making you begin to pump your hand faster while you thumb pushes on the head of his cock. Mingi's breathing is ragged now, his hips thrusting slightly in your hand as he kisses along your jawline.

"You're so beautiful…" he whispers, and you almost believe him.

You guide his hand down, placing it where you ache for him, as he begins to rub slow, torturous circles around your clit. You bite your lip to keep from saying Jungkook's name again, but it's a losing battle the moment he mimics the speed of your hand on him.

"Jungkook..!" you gasp again as you feel yourself getting closer to the edge. Mingi's eyes widen, and his hand stills for a second before he starts to rub you again, faster, harder, as if trying to erase the sound of your ex's name from the air. “Oh—god!“

You're so close, so close to forgetting everything but the pleasure Mingi is giving you. And just when you think you can't take it anymore, he suddenly stop moving his hand, putting it over yours to stop it’s movement on him. You groan in frustration, opening your eyes slightly to see him in a blur as he smacks your body down on the couch, forcing you to be under him. Once your vision clears from your high, you see his angry flushed face as he tries to catch his breath while he strokes himself.

“No matter how good I make you feel, you say his name huh?“

Your gaze falters, feeling embarrassed. Before you have the time to say sorry, you gasp when you feel his tip in you, his pre-cum warm against you.

“I’m going to go so deep in you, you won’t even be able to say it anymore.“

Without a warning, he enters you, making you scream at being full of him so suddenly. It hurts because of how big and wide he is, but it’s such a good hurt that you moan loudly right after, your eyes rolling back. You cling to him, your nails digging into his back as he moves inside you harshly. You whisper Jungkook's name like a mantra, each thrust pushing you closer to the oblivion you crave. Mingi's movements become more frantic, his breathing more erratic, and the more you whisper Jungkook’s name, the more violent his thrust are to the point where no sound other than loud whimpers comes out of you, making him smirk proudly.

"You're mine." he growls, his voice thick with passion.

You want to feel like you belong to someone, to anyone other than Jungkook and he knows it. Does he do it because you want it, or because he want’s you to really be his? You’ll never know.

“I’m gonna—“ You moan loudly, cut by one of his harsh and quick thrust . “Mingi, I’m—“

“Go, ugh…“ His cock twitches violently at hearing his name. “Go ahead princess.“

You come with a cry, your body shuddering around him, and for a brief moment, you do forget. But as the pleasure subsides, the reality of what you've done crashes down on you like a tidal wave. You open your eyes to see Mingi's face, a mix of pleasure and pain. He's looking at you with so much love, so much adoration, and you can't help but feel guilty for using him like this.

"I'm sorry…" you murmur, your voice hoarse from the exertion. "I shouldn't have...I didn't mean to..."

But he shakes his head, kissing you softly on the forehead as you both try to catch your breath.

"Yeah, it's okay." he says, his voice strained. "I know you still miss him."

You nod, tears threatening to spill over. "I do."

Mingi pulls out gently, his arms wrapping around you as he lay’s on you, his head nuzzled in your neck while you rub his back gently, panting and trembling. He holds you tightly, whispering comforting nothings into your ear, trying to soothe the pain that you've unintentionally caused him.

As the night wears on, you lay in his embrace, naked, watching the TV without really seeing it, both lost in your own thoughts. The guilt gnaws at you, but the need to forget is still there, stronger. And as you drift off to sleep, you can't help but wonder if you'll ever be able to move on, if you'll ever be able to think of anyone else when you're with Mingi. If you’ll be able to only think of him. But for now, you're content to let him hold you, to let him love you in the only way you'll allow, and to hope that maybe, just maybe, one day, the memory of Jungkook won't be so sharp, so painful, that you can't even enjoy the present without it cutting through you like a knife.

[dae-chwiita]

Wrecked and found

Pairing : reader x ranchowner!Hongjoong

Summary : One morning, you pick a bag, your car keys and take the road, wanting to get far from the life you've built, needing to get away from your breakup as you can. You come back to reality the moment your car crashes on the side of an unknown road in the middle of nowhere. Thankfully, a cowboy was on a walk right where you are.

Warnings : mention of breakup, being unsatisfied with life, slow burn but also quick time wise? Pure romance and kinda long lol mb

A/N : so the cliche country trope BUT, I really wanted to do it and nobody could have stopped me. Also spent a lot of the fic describing things, really wanting to put an ambiance so if you want solely romance not the best place, especially since its a slow burn oopsi but the romance is good and sweet !NOT PROOFREAD!

---

You didn’t expect your car to break down in the middle of nowhere. Not when you’d been pushing it as hard as you had, the old rental grumbling with every mile. The car wasn’t built for this kind of journey, and truthfully, neither were you. But that didn’t stop you from throwing everything you had—what little of it there was left—into the backseat and leaving the city behind with your whole life still there. It had been an impulse decision, fueled by heartbreak and the suffocating walls of your empty apartment. The breakup wasn’t fresh, but the sting of it hadn’t dulled. You’d spent weeks pacing the same cramped space, surrounded by the detritus of a relationship you didn’t know how to pack away. You’d been desperate to escape, to outrun the memories that clung to you like smoke.

So, one morning, you did.

There was no plan. You’d tossed a duffel bag together with a few essentials—clothes, toiletries, a water bottle, and an old dusty road atlas you found buried in a drawer. You didn’t even pack food, there wasn’t time to think, not with the buzzing anxiety driving you forward. You left your phone charger behind, too, though you wouldn’t realize that until hours later when your battery died somewhere on the open road...You’d driven west, or at least you thought it was west, the sun was your only guide as you fled the city limits and plunged into the countryside. At first, it felt exhilarating—freedom in its rawest form. The highway stretched endlessly before you, flanked by rolling hills and wide, open fields. It was the kind of scenery you’d only ever seen in movies, and for a while, it was enough to distract you from the gnawing ache in your chest. But as the miles piled up, so did the doubts; you hadn’t thought this through. You had no destination, no safety net, the money in your wallet wouldn’t last long and you didn’t even know where you’d sleep tonight. You told yourself it didn’t matter, that you’d figure it out as you went, but as the hours dragged on and the car sputtered ominously beneath you, the weight of your choices pressed down hard. By the time the engine gave out, you’d been driving for what felt like an eternity. The road you were on wasn’t even marked on the atlas, a desolate stretch of cracked pavement cutting through an ocean of dry grass. The sun was a merciless glare overhead, beating down on the hood as you rolled to a stop, the noise of the car breaking almost mocking you. Smoke billowed from the engine, and you cursed under your breath, slamming the steering wheel. You popped the hood, but the sight beneath it offered no answers—just a mess of metal and wires that meant nothing to you.

Great. Just great.

You glanced around, hoping for some sign of civilization, but there was nothing. No houses, no gas stations, not even a distant power line, just the endless expanse of golden fields and the occasional tumbleweed bouncing lazily across the road. The realization hit you all at once: you were stranded. Alone, with no phone, no charger, and no idea where you were. The panic crept in slowly as you came out of your frenzy, tightening your chest and making your hands tremble as you leaned against the now useless car. What now? You didn’t have a backup plan, you didn’t even have a place to go back to ! You’d left everything behind in your frantic need to escape, and now you were paying the price. Every serial killers cases start like this; with a stranded lost young woman in the middle a desolated road. It wasn’t just the breakup that had driven you to this point, it was everything—the job you hated, the friendships that felt hollow, the sense that you were stuck in a life that wasn’t yours. Leaving had felt like the only option, a way to reclaim some control of your own life. But now, standing on the side of the road with the sun beating down on you, all you felt was foolish for leaving your comfort. You didn’t cry, though, you wanted to—you could feel the tears threatening, burning behind your eyes—but you forced them back. Crying wouldn’t help. You had to figure something out.

That’s when you saw him.

He rode up on a chestnut colored horse, the kind of sight you’d expect to see in a movie rather than real life. His dark brown cowboy hat was tilted low, shielding his eyes from yours, but you could feel his gaze on you as he approached. The fringed leather jacket and worn boots covered with dried mud were straight out of a western, yet there was something effortlessly modern about him. He reined his horse to a stop a few feet away, dust kicking up around him, and you swore the sun flared brighter just to frame him perfectly.

“You lost?” he asked, his voice low and gravelly.

You blinked, trying to process the sheer magnetism of the man in front of you. “Uh, more like broken down.” You gestured to your smoking car with a weak, tired laugh.

His eyes flicked to the vehicle, then back to you. He lifted his nose a little, finally showing you his dark eyes. They were sharp, assessing, but not unkind.

“You’re lucky I came by." He said, titling his head to the side. "Not many folks out here this time of day.”

You tried not to stare as he dismounted with a practiced ease, his boots crunching against the gravel. He was smaller in stature than you expected, given how tall the horse made him look, but he carried himself with an air of authority that made him seem larger than moutains. His hair, a deep dark brown, peeked out from beneath his hat, and his sun-kissed skin glowed in the harsh light.

“I’m Hongjoong,” he said, offering a gloved hand. “I own the ranch just a mile up the road. Let’s see what we’re dealing with here.”

You smiled, relaxing your shoulders. "Thank you, really."

---

You didn’t expect to end up at his ranch, but Hongjoong had insisted your car wouldn’t make it anywhere until morning so it came naturally to offer you to stay at his ranch until then. His property was sprawling, acres upon acres of open land dotted with grazing cattle, a barn that looked as old as time and a modest but charming farmhouse perched on a hill. The air smelled of hay and sun-warmed earth, and the sound of horses and cows nickering greeted you as he led you past the stables. He explained, in his calm and deliberate way, that he’d call the local mechanic in town first thing tomorrow. For now, you were his guest. You felt out of place among the rugged charm of the ranch, your then white city-worn sneakers kicking up dust as you trailed behind him. But Hongjoong? He moved like he belonged here, like he was part of the land itself. He guided you across every corner of his land, and you were struck by how expansive it truly was. What you thought might take an hour stretched into the better part of the afternoon, but you didn’t mind. With every turn, Hongjoong revealed something new: a crystal-clear creek winding its way through a cluster of trees, the wildflowers that painted the meadows in vibrant swathes, and the rolling hills that seemed to stretch endlessly into the horizon. You followed him without question, each new sight leaving you in quiet awe. There was a serenity here that you’d never felt before, it felt almost surreal, as if your car breaking down had been less an accident and more a deliberate push into some kind of hidden paradise. That feeling lingered even as the sun began its slow descent, casting the ranch in warm golden light. When Hongjoong finally led you back to the house, you felt a pang of reluctance, as though you weren’t quite ready to leave the perfection of the outdoors behind. Inside, he insisted you sit at the modest dining table while he prepared dinner. The smell of sizzling meat and fresh vegetables soon filled the air, making your stomach growl in anticipation. You sat at the table, chin resting on your hand as you watched him move around the kitchen. His movements were fluid and precise, like he belonged in this space as much as he did out on the ranch. The way his fingers worked deftly to chop vegetables, the soft hum of concentration in his throat, the quiet clink of utensils against the pan—it all felt oddly intimate. The golden light from the setting sun streamed through the window, catching the sharp line of his jaw and the faint sheen of sweat on his skin, his forearms, now visible since he took his jacket off and rolled up his sleeves, flexing with every movement. He looked almost unreal, like he’d stepped out of a dream, and yet here he was, cooking for you with such easy kindness as if he knew you for months. Your chest tightened at the thought; how could someone so effortlessly handsome, so gentle and kind, be real?

When he set the plate before you, the first bite was enough to make you pause. The flavors were rich and vibrant, the kind of freshness you’d only ever heard about but never tasted.

“This is amazing!” you murmured between bites, your voice thick with genuine appreciation.

Hongjoong leaned back in his chair, a faint smile tugging at the corners of his lips as he watched you eat.

“Glad you like it.” he said simply, his tone carrying just a hint of pride.

You didn’t notice the way his gaze lingered on you—how he seemed amused and charmed by the soft sighs of satisfaction that escaped you as you worked through the meal. For you, everything about the moment felt perfect, from the taste and smell of the food to the warmth of his quiet company. When dinner was done, he led you to the room you’d be staying in for the night. The cozy space was simple but welcoming, with soft lamplight illuminating the carefully made bed. Your bag was already there, placed neatly by the door.

“You’ll be comfortable here.” Hongjoong said, his voice low but warm. "It's been long since someone slept in here tho, might be dusty."

"It's ok, really." You nodded, offering him a small smile. “Thank you. For everything.”

He dipped his head slightly in response, hiding his face with the front of his hat, before stepping back, his presence leaving a quiet stillness in the room. As soon as you lay on the bed, a deep, contented sigh escaped your lips. Your eyelids grew heavy almost immediately, and before you could even process the day, exhaustion took hold. You drifted off to sleep, the last thing on your mind being the image of the man who had turned what should have been a disaster into something extraordinary.

---

You woke up to the sound of birdsong and the faint, rhythmic clinking of metal tools outside the guest room window. The bed beneath you was firm but comfortable, a far cry from the lumpy motel mattress you’d imagined you’d end up on when you’d left the city. The room was simple, with whitewashed walls and wooden furniture that seemed lovingly handcrafted. The window framed a picturesque view of the ranch, with golden fields stretching as far as the eye could see. You got up as you rubbed your eyesn walking towards the window to investigate what was making such a noise. You spotted Hongjoong by the barn, his figure silhouetted against the morning sun as he hoisted a bale of hay with an ease that made you wonder just how strong he really was. You didn’t feel right about staying here and doing nothing, he’d already done more than enough, taking in a complete stranger without hesitation. The least you could do was help. You quickly took the change of clothes neatly put on the desk, getting out of yesterday's clothes before heading out of the room. When you made your way to the barn, the fresh air of nature caressing you as gently as the sun while he glanced up, his sharp eyes softening slightly when they landed on you.

“Mornin'.” he said, wiping a gloved hand across his brow. His voice was rough from sleep, but it held a warmth that made your stomach flutter.

“Morning!” you replied, fidgeting with the hem of your borrowed button up shirt—one of his, which hung loose on your frame.

Hongjoong cleared his throat softly.

“I talked to the mechanic in town,” he said, his voice steady but careful, as if gauging your reaction. “Your car will be ready in a few days.”

You nodded slowly, the words settling over you like a weight. A few days. That was all the time you had left here.

“Thank you.” you murmured, your voice quieter than you intended.

His gaze lingered on you for a moment, his eyes unreadable under the shadow of his hat. “Don’t mention it.”

You sighed, looking around before looking at him again, closing an eye to shield it from the rising sun.

“Need any help?” You asked, smiling warmly.

"Help?" Hongjoong arched a brow, clearly skeptical. "With what?"

You gestured to the bales of hay stacked neatly behind him.

“Anything. I feel bad just sitting around while you’re doing all the work.”

His lips quirked into a lopsided smile, amusement flickering in his eyes. “You don’t have to do anything. You’re a guest.”

“Then let me earn my stay.” you insisted, crossing your arms. “I’m tougher than I look, you know.”

"“Alrigh", city girl." He chuckled softly, shaking his head. "Let’s see what you’ve got."

You regretted your bravado almost immediately.

Hongjoong handed you a pitchfork and showed you how to spread fresh hay in the stalls. It seemed simple enough, but after the third stall, your arms were already aching. Sweat trickled down your back, and your sneakers—already caked in dust from yesterday—slipped on the uneven barn floor. Hongjoong didn’t say much, but you caught him watching you out of the corner of your eye, his expression unreadable.

“Am I doing this right?” you asked, pausing to wipe your forehead, anxious about his staring.

He stepped closer, his boots crunching against the hay. Without a word, he took the pitchfork from your hands, his fingers brushing yours for the briefest moment.

“Like this.” he said, demonstrating the proper technique. His movements were fluid, precise.

Then, to your surprise, he stepped behind you, guiding your hands back to the pitchfork. His chest was close enough that you could feel the faint heat radiating off him, his voice right at your ear.

“Keep your grip firm,” he murmured, his warm calloused hands adjusting yours gently.

Your breath hitched, the proximity sending your thoughts into a whirlwind. You could barely focus on his instructions, the closeness of him sparking something unfamiliar in your chest—a nervous flutter mixed with a warmth you hadn’t felt in ages.

“See?” he said, his tone soft as his hands lingered just a moment longer before stepping back. “Not so hard, right?”

You nodded, swallowing hard, your voice lost somewhere in the haze of nerves and something undeniably new. It took a few tries, and a lot of calming your heart, but you eventually found a rhythm.

“Not bad...” he said, leaning against the stall door. “For a beginner.”

You shot him a playful glare. “Thanks, I think.”

By midday, you were exhausted but strangely satisfied. Hongjoong had taken over the heavier tasks, like lifting the hay bales, but he let you help with feeding the horses and mucking out the stalls.

“You didn’t have to do all this.” he said as the two of you sat on the porch steps, sipping glasses of cold water he’d brought out.

“I wanted to!” you replied, staring out at the fields. “It feels good to actually… do something.”

He glanced at you, his expression softening. “You did good today.”

The compliment warmed you more than the sun ever could.

---

The second day began much the same as the first, but this time, you were ready.

You joined Hongjoong outside with the same button up he landed you the day before just as he was saddling up one of the horses, a sleek orange like mare he introduced as Grami. She was a beautiful creature, her coat shimmering in the early morning light.

“You’re up early.” he remarked, adjusting the saddle.

“I figured I’d save you the trouble of convincing me to help again.” you teased, earning a small chuckle from him.

“Fair enough. Think you’re ready to meet the rest of the ranch?”

You blinked. “There’s more?”

"A lot more." He nodded, leading Grami out of the stable. "The cattle are grazing out in the north pasture. Thought I’d check on them today. You’re welcome to tag along."

“On foot?” you asked, eyeing the distance he gestured toward.

"On horseback." he corrected, giving you a knowing look. "We’ll take Grami."

You blinked. “Both of us? On the same horse?”

He shrugged, a faint smirk playing on his lips. “Unless you want to walk.”

You narrowed your eyes at him, but the playful glint in his gaze made it impossible to argue.

“Fine.” you muttered, trying to ignore the way your heart thudded at the thought of being so close to him.

Hongjoong swung up into the saddle first, moving with a practiced ease that made you momentarily envious.

“Come on city girl.” he said, reaching a gloved hand down to you.

You hesitated for only a second before placing your hand in his. His grip was firm and steady, effortlessly pulling you up behind him.

“Hold on.” he said, glancing over his shoulder at you.

You swallowed hard and wrapped your arms around his suprisingly tiny waist, your fingers brushing the fabric of his shirt. You felt the warmth of his back pressed against you as you tried to focus on anything else—the soft sway of Grami’s movement beneath you, the sound of the horse’s hooves on the dirt path, the gentle rustling of the wind in the grass, the faint sound of water flowing far away. The ride to the north pasture felt like it stretched on forever, but you didn’t mind. Hongjoong’s presence was steady and grounding, even as your thoughts kept drifting to the closeness of him and his comforting warmth.

“You alright back there?” he asked, his voice breaking the silence.

“Yeah!” you said quickly, hoping he couldn’t hear the slight tremor in your voice as you got out of your daze.

Grami carried you both through a sunlit meadow, the scent of wildflowers hanging heavy in the air. The moment felt oddly intimate, and for a brief second, you let yourself relax against him, your cheek almost brushing his shoulder. When you reached the pasture, Hongjoong dismounted first and turned to help you down. His hands found your waist as he guided you to the ground, the touch brief but enough to leave your skin tingling.

“Thanks...” you murmured, avoiding his gaze as you smoothed your shirt.

The rest of the day unfolded much like the first, with Hongjoong showing you how to check the fences and tend to the cattle. He was patient as always, his quiet explanations punctuated by moments of comfortable silence.

---

By the time you returned to the farmhouse, the sun was dipping low in the sky, painting the horizon in fiery shades of orange and pink. As you sat down to dinner, you couldn’t help but steal glances at him across the table, his profile illuminated by the soft glow of the kitchen light. There was something about him—his quiet confidence, his kindness, the way he carried the weight of the ranch without complaint—that made it hard to look away. You felt a warmth in your chest that had nothing to do with the food or the cozy farmhouse and as you lay in bed that night, staring at the ceiling, you couldn’t shake the thought that maybe, just maybe, this was exactly where you were meant to be.

This place, this man… it was starting to feel like something you didn’t want to leave behind.

---

The days passed in a blur.

One day turned into two, then three, as the mechanic faced delay after delay. You couldn’t be upset, though, not when Hongjoong was… well, Hongjoong. He was kind but guarded, the kind of man who said more with his actions than his words, he’d hand you a glass of fresh juice after a particularly hot afternoon without a word, or fix the loose porch step you slipped on two times. He’d taken to showing you around the ranch in the mornings. It started small: a walk to the stables, a brief introduction to the horses but over time, he seemed to open up. He’d tell you about the ranch’s history, about how it had been in his family for generations.

“Most people don’t want this kind of life anymore.” he said one evening, leaning against the fence as the sun dipped below the horizon. “It’s not glamorous. It’s hard work, and it can get lonely.”

You watched him as he spoke, his profile illuminated by the golden light. There was a wistfulness in his voice that made your chest ache.

“I don’t think it’s lonely.” you said softly.

He turned to you, brows furrowing slightly. “No?”

"You’ve got the land, the animals…" You shrugged, suddenly self-conscious under his gaze. "It feels peaceful. I would say it's a good kind of lonely."

Hongjoong didn’t say anything, but the way he looked at you in that moment made your heart stutter.

You weren’t sure when the shift happened.

Maybe it was the way his hand brushed yours when he handed you a tool while fixing the barn door. Maybe it was the way his eyes lingered just a little too long when you laughed. Or maybe it was the fourth night when you’d joined him on the porch after dinner, the stars stretching endlessly above you as he played a soft tune on his guitar while you hummed to the unfamiliar tune as he stared at you, like he so often did. He’d asked you about your life, your dreams, your fears. And you’d told him everything, surprising even yourself with how easy it was to talk to him. From moving to the city for your ex, leaving your family and close friends behind to the breakup and you deciding to leave everything again but, this time, for yourself.

“You’ve got a brave heart.” he said quietly, his fingers stilling on the strings.

"Brave?" You laughed, the sound tinged with disbelief. "I’ve been running away from my problems for months."

He shook his head, his gaze intense. "You’re here, aren’t you? Sometimes that’s the bravest thing you can do—just show up somewhere unknown."

It was slow, this thing between you.

A stolen glance here, a fleeting touch there. The way he’d smile when he caught you watching him, or the way his voice softened when he said your name. You found yourself lingering in his orbit, drawn to him in a way that felt both exhilarating and terrifying. And Hongjoong? He seemed to feel it too but he held back more than you did, always keeping a careful distance, like he was afraid of what might happen if he let himself fall, watching you from afar seemed enough for him. The night it all came to an end, the fifth one, was one you’d never forget.

---

A storm had rolled in, sudden and fierce, forcing you and Hongjoong to rush through the downpour to secure the horses. Now, trapped in the barn, the rain hammered against the roof in relentless waves. You huddled together in the corner, both drenched to the bone, your breath mingling in the chill air. A new button-up shirt he'd lent you clung to your skin, his scent faint but unmistakable on the fabric, a cruel reminder of just how close he felt yet how far away he always seemed. He’d been nothing but kind—steadfast, patient, even protective—but there was a wall around him, one you couldn’t seem to scale no matter how much you tried. Every time you thought you might be breaking through, he’d pull away, his quiet reserve leaving you aching with questions you didn’t dare ask. You turned your head slightly, catching the profile of his face as he nervously watched the storm, his jaw was set, his brows furrowed in thought, and you couldn’t stop the longing that twisted in your chest. Why did he have to be so careful with you, so distant? The words escaped before you could stop them.

“Why do you do this?”

Your voice was barely audible over the storm, but he turned to you, his eyes meeting yours with an intensity that made it hard to breathe.

“Do what?”

“Push people away.” you said, your heart pounding as you catch your breath. “I can see it, Hongjoong. You’re afraid of letting me get close.”

His jaw tightened, and for a moment, you thought he might brush you off. But then he sighed, running a hand through his damp hair.

“It’s not that simple.” he said quietly. “This life… it’s not easy. I’ve lost people before, I don’t want to go through that again.”

"But what if you don’t have to lose them?" You reached for his hand without thinking, the warmth of it surprising you. "What if they stay?"

He looked at your joined hands, then back at you, and you saw something shift in his eyes, now so visible without his hat in the way.

"I don’t want to lose you." he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. "Since you've been here, everything feel perfect, like the missing piece, and I don't want to get used to it only to loose it."

Your breath caught, and for a moment, the storm outside was nothing but a distant hum.

“You won’t.” you said, your voice steady despite the chaos in your chest.

His lips parted, but no answer came right away. The seconds stretched, his silence only making your chest tighten more.

“I don’t want to make promises I can’t keep-” he said finally, his voice thick with something unspoken.

“You won’t.”

For a moment, the words hung in the air between you, raw and fragile. You bit your lip, steadying your breath as you searched for the courage to say what you’d been holding in for days, your head spinning with how quick everything was going.

"For the first time in a long time, I feel like my life is… right. Like it means something." You took a shaky breath, holding his hand tighter. "Maybe it’s just the change—everything so different and new—but I don’t care if it’s an illusion. I want to try, and I want it to be with you. But only if you’re willing to try too."

Hongjoong’s gaze softened, the storm outside and the noise of the horses seeming to fade. Slowly, he leaned forward, his eyes fixed on yours as his wet hair fell in front of his face.

“Can I kiss you?”

“Yes.” you breathed, the word tumbling out before he could even finish the question. “Please. Finally.”

His lips were on yours before the last syllable left your mouth. The kiss was slow at first, tentative, as though he was still convincing himself you were real. But when your hands slid up to his drenched shoulders, pulling him closer, something shifted. His fingers tangled in your damp hair, his other hand finding the curve of your waist as the kiss deepened, the warmth of him chasing away the cold that clung to your skin. The warmth of his hands seeped through the damp fabric of the shirt, anchoring you to the moment. His touch wasn’t hurried; it was deliberate, like he was savoring every second, every sensation. Your fingers curled into the material of his shirt, clinging to him as if letting go might shatter the fragile, electric connection between you. His lips moved against yours, gentle yet insistent, and you felt every ounce of his hesitation melt away. The storm outside was relentless, but it only seemed to heighten the intensity inside the barn, the roar of the rain a distant hum compared to the wild beat of your heart. When he pulled back for air, his forehead rested against yours, his breath warm and uneven on your cold skin. He looked at you, his eyes searching, his expression caught somewhere between disbelief and something far deeper.

“You have no idea what you’re doing to me...” he murmured, his voice low, almost hoarse.

You let out a breathless laugh, your hands still gripping his shirt. “Pretty sure I have an idea.”

He chuckled softly, the sound vibrating between you, and for a moment, the tension broke, replaced by something lighter, softer. But his hands didn’t leave your waist, and you didn’t step away.

“I meant what I said.” you whispered, your voice barely audible over the storm. “I want to try, Hongjoong. Whatever this is, I want it.”

He nodded slowly, his thumb brushing against your side in an almost absent-minded motion, as if he couldn’t stop touching you.

“So do I.” he admitted, the words coming out like a confession.

Your chest swelled at the vulnerability in his tone, the weight of his walls finally crumbling in front of you. You smiled, leaning in to press another kiss to the corner of his mouth, the simple act filled with a quiet certainty that this—whatever it was—was worth the risk.

“Good to hear, cowboy.” you said softly, your lips brushing his. “Because I’m not going anywhere.”

"You really aren't since your car isn't working."

You both laughed slightly, leaning against each other. And with that, he kissed you again, this time deeper, his hands pulling you closer

The kiss deepened, desperate now, as if both of you were clinging to the moment, afraid it might slip away. His hands roamed, pulling you against him, as if he couldn’t get enough of the feel of you, his touch frantic, hungry. His lips were insistent, pushing against yours with a wild urgency that made your pulse race, each movement of his mouth eager and desperate. His grip on you tightened, his fingers digging into the small of your back as he pulled you even closer, his body flush against yours. You could feel the heat of him, the way his chest rose and fell erratically as his breath mingled with yours, soft groans of need escaping him. Your hands found their way to his hair, tangling in the wet strands, pulling him closer, if that was even possible. The intensity of the kiss matched the ferocity of the storm outside, the rain hammering against the barn roof as though it too was desperate to kill the fire between you. You felt his lips move down to your neck, kissing, nibbling, sending jolts of pleasure through your body. The sensation made your back arch instinctively, a shiver running through you from feeling him so close, so urgent. But then, just as quickly as it had started, you felt him stiffen against you, his hands halting their movements, making you sigh in frustration. He pulled away abruptly, his breath ragged, his eyes wide with something that looked almost like panic while his lips where red and full, making it hard to not kiss them again.

“Hey.” Hongjoong said, his voice rough, but with a tone of concern.

“Mmmh?” You hummed, staring at his lips while biting your own.

“We should go back inside.” He pulled back slightly, his hands on your arms now, steadying you. “Before you catch your death out here.”

For a moment, you just looked at him, breathless and confused, the remnants of the kiss still lingering on your lips. He seemed to have pulled away not because of you, but because of something else—something in him that was fighting with the intensity of his emotions. You nodded slowly, feeling a mix of disappointment and warmth at his words, unsure whether it was the cold or the abrupt end to the kiss that left you feeling so undone. He gently took your hand, guiding you back toward the farmhouse as he ran, the storm still raging above, but for the first time since your breakup, the world didn’t feel so chaotic. Not with him by your side. You entered the house giggling as he quickly wrapped a blanket around your wet body while you looked at him in awe. He snickered before kissing you again, as gently as he could. The rain drummed on the roof above you, but you didn’t hear it. All that mattered was the way he tasted, the way his body pressed against yours, the way his kiss made you feel like you were exactly where you were supposed to be.

Thank God your car broke down.

[dae-chwiita]

i’ll have you, you just wait was sooo good!! i really like the way you write :)

thank you sooo much, it's so nice to hear🥹 Really reassuring since it really flopped but I'm so happy if at least one persone enjoyed it🫶 You're the sweetest!! (and the other 5 people you enjoyed it too)

you can read it right HERE btw🫂

[dae-chwiita]

I’ll have you, you just wait.

A “Boy In Luv“ based fic.

Jimin vers.

Pairing : teen!Jimin x teen!Reader

Summary : Even since you’ve known Jimin, he’s always been bothering you with he’s unwavering confidence that you like him. You always knew that you were just a game to him, nothing serious. So how you could you believe him when he confessed to you?

Warnings : mentions of being used, being tricked ne some bad words Omfg. Other than that just fluff

A/N : Soooo this is the first part of a possible series which is “Boy In Luv“ based starting with ma boy Jimmini Cricket, tell me if you’d be interested by the version of the others boys 🫶 Enjoy!

———

The morning air bites at your skin as you walk across the school courtyard, your bag slung lazily over one shoulder. It’s one of those days where everything feels like it’s moving just a beat slower than usual. You’re already running on fumes after a long night of cramming for exams, and the chatter of your classmates blends into the hum of a world you’re too tired to fully engage with. Then, you hear it—the unmistakable sound of Jimin’s voice cutting through the morning haze. Especially cutting trough your patience.

“Hey, you!”

You stop mid-step, the weight of his presence practically tangible. You’ve been on the receiving end of his attention since you started high school 2 years ago but, this past week, it’s been non-stop. Every. Single. Day. It’s starting to feel like a second job just trying to avoid him. Turning slowly, as you stop walking, you see him leaning against the stone pillar near the entrance, one hand in his pocket, the other holding a can of soda he clearly doesn’t intend to drink this early. His big leather jacket hangs off his shoulders with calculated casualness, his uniform tie loose like he rolled out of bed with it, his silver bracelet, necklace and earrings reflecting the light way too brightly while his hair, who seemed to be untouched since he woke up, where put in the exact way it has been since he got this specific haircut. Meaning that he styles it every morning. The mental image of him struggling to do it right before going to school makes you laugh every time you imagine it. You force yourself to not think about it or else you’ll smile and you refuse to smile near him, he would see it as a sign that you want to marry him…

“What?” you ask flatly, not in the mood for whatever he’s about to throw your way.

“What?” he parrots, mimicking your tone with a smirk. He pushes himself off the pillar and strides toward you, his steps deliberate, almost predatory. “That’s all you have to say to me? After all the time we’ve been spending together lately?”

“We haven’t been spending time together.” You reply, squaring your shoulders. “You’ve just been following me around.”

Jimin lets out a low chuckle, the kind that always feels like it’s meant to get under your skin on purpose. He leans in closer, and you’re hit with the faint mix scent of cheap cologne and mint.

“Call it what you want…” he says, his voice dropping an octave. “But you’ll give in eventually. It’s only a matter of time.”

You roll your eyes as you turn with an exasperated sigh. “Not in this lifetime.”

As you head toward the building, already done with this conversation, you hear his footsteps fall in behind you. Of course, he’s not done.

“Come on, admit it!” he says, his tone infuriatingly smug. “You’ve thought about it.”

“Thought about what?” you ask without looking back, rolling your eyes.

“Us.”

That stops you. You whirl around to face him, and the grin on his face tells you he knows exactly what he’s doing and that he’s really happy it worked.

“There is no us.’” you snap, jabbing a finger in his chest. “And there never will be.”

Jimin doesn’t flinch. If anything, your irritation seems to fuel him. He takes a step closer, closing the gap between you until you’re forced to tilt your head up to meet his gaze.

“You’re cute when you’re mad, you know that?”

“Do you ever shut up?”

“Not when it comes to you.” He says, and the softness in his voice throws you off for a split second before he’s smirking again, all cocky bravado. “Besides, why would I?”

“You should go back to cleaning the toilets, you’ll be more useful there.“

“Only if come with me.“ He laughs, tilting his head to the side as he looks intently at you.

You’re about to retort when the warning bell rings, signaling the start of the school day. Jimin glances toward the building, then back at you, his grin widening.

“Guess I’ll see you in class.” he pouts, backing away with a lazy wave. “Don’t miss me too much!”

You groan, turning on your heels one last time and finally making your way to your locker. But as you twist the combination lock and pull the door open, you can’t shake the feeling that this isn’t over. Not by a long shot.

———

By lunchtime, you’ve managed to avoid Jimin entirely, a small victory in a day otherwise riddled with stress. You’re sitting at your usual spot in the cafeteria with your friend Minji, picking at your food and trying to focus on the notes spread out in front of you, when a shadow falls across the table.

“Studying during lunch? That’s boring, even for you.”

You don’t need to look up to know who it is. Jimin slides into the seat next to you, plopping his tray down with a thud. You’re not sure what’s more annoying—the fact that he’s here or the fact that your heart does a stupid little flip at his proximity as his shoulder bumps next to yours, some strands of dark hair falling in front of his eyes while his left leg is glued to your right one.

“And here I thought lunch would be peaceful.” Minji sighs, scribbling on the table with her knife.

“Oh, don’t mind me.” Jimin says, flashing her a disarming smile before turning his attention back to you. “I’m just here for the company.”

“Don’t you have friends?“ You ask, flipping a page in your notebook as you’re pretending to be too busy studying whatever this book is about. “Or did they finally have enough of you?“

“Ooh, kitty scratches.“ He giggles, pinching your forearm.

You yelp, pulling your arm away from him. “What do you want again?“

“What do I want?” he repeats, leaning forward until he’s practically in your personal space. “I think you know the answer to that.”

“Not interested.” you say as you look away.

“Liar.”

Your head snaps his way again at that, he’s looking at you like he’s just scored the winning point in some unspoken game the moment your eyes lock. He’s infuriatingly confident, and you hate that part of you wonders what it would feel like to wipe that smirk off his face—or maybe see what it looks like up…to wipe it off even better, of course.

Minji lets out a low whistle. “Wow, this is better than the dramas on TV!”

You glance at your friend, frowning at her for seeming entertained by what’s happening rather than coming to your rescue. Although you can’t really blame her, you would’ve done the exact same if it was her in this position.

“You’re delusional.” you say, shoving your notebook into your bag and standing up. “Find someone else to bother.”

Jimin grabs your wrist as you begin to leave, his grip firm but not agressive. The cafeteria seems to fade away, the buzz of conversations and clatter of trays nothing more than white noise as you focus on him and his warm fingers going all the way around you wrist.

“Why are you running away?” he asks, his voice softer than you’re used to. “Are you scared?”

“Of what?” You scoff. “Of you?“

“Of this.”

For once, he’s serious, and it throws you completely off balance. You quickly pull your wrist free, your heart hammering in your chest, and walk away without another word. Behind you, Minji’s laughter follows you out the door.

———

Out on the soccer field after lunch, Jimin meets up with the rest of the boys, who are lounging on the bleachers. Taehyung is flipping through one of his manga’s as Hoseok looks over his shoulder, Jungkook is tossing a ball in the air, Namjoon’s scribbling something in a notebook while Yoongi and Jin are watching something together on a phone. They all pause when Jimin approaches.

“You’re late.” Yoongi points out, not looking up from the screen.

“Had something to take care of.” Jimin replies, dropping into the ground with a smirk. “Took care of it.“

Hoseok raises an eyebrow. “Let me guess. Her?”

Jimin shrugs, but the way his grin widens is answer enough.

“She’s gonna break you, hyung.” Jungkook snorts.

“Not a chance!” Jimin retorts. “She just doesn’t know what she wants yet.”

“Or maybe she knows exactly what she wants…“ Namjoon looks up from his notebook. “and it’s not you.”

The group erupts into laughter, but Jimin just leans back, unfazed.

“We’ll see.“

———

Later that day, you’re sitting on the bleachers, having finished your last class, hoping for a moment of peace before heading home. The sky is streaked with hues of orange and pink, and the air is cool against your skin. You close your eyes, letting the quiet wash over you. No homework, no teacher yelling at you to wake up, no Minji teasing you relentlessly about Jimin….And no him, obviously. Just peace and quiet.

“Didn’t think I’d find you here.”

You roll your eyes, you don’t even have to look to know who it is. Jimin’s voice is unmistakable, as is the way it makes your pulse quicken despite your best efforts. It’s just your anger that make’s it beat like that.

“Do you ever take a hint?” you huff, keeping your eyes closed.

“Not when I know I’m right.” he replies, sitting down beside you. “And I’m definitely right about you.”

You finally open your eyes when he pokes your cheek, turning to face him and slap his hand away from your face. He’s closer than you expected, his expression weirdly serious. It’s the third time today that you’ve seen him serious, it’s starting to make you anxious.

“What do you want from me, Jimin?” you ask, your voice quieter now.

“Everything.” he says without hesitation, voice shaking a little. “I want everything. Your time, your attention. I want you to look at me the way I look at you.”

You’re speechless, caught off guard by the raw honesty in his words. For the first time, he’s not teasing, not smirking, not trying to rile you up. He’s just Park Jimin, laying it all out, his face the most serious you’ve ever seen it. Is that why he kinda looks pretty suddenly, with the orange light reflecting on his skin perfectly? No, you can’t fall for this. This must bee his new technique to try and get you, you won’t walk into that trap. The tension in the air is thick as Jimin takes a few tentative steps toward you, his usual cocky attitude replaced with something quieter, something a little more uncertain. For a moment, the stillness seems to stretch on forever, and you realize that you’re not just trying to fight him off—you’re trying to fight what you’re starting to feel. But no. Not now. Not like this. Before he can speak, you cut him off with a sharp, “I don’t have time for this.”

“Wait, just listen—” he begins, but your frustration is too much, you stand up abruptly, brushing the dirt off your skirt.

“You know what, Jimin?” you snap, not even looking at him. “You’re dumb. You really thought I was going to fall for this stupid game of yours, didn’t you?”

“It’s not—“

You straighten your shoulders, glaring at him with every ounce of defiance you can muster. “Piss off, Jimin. I’m not your prize to win.”

You hear his voice falter, like he’s trying to find the words to make it right, but you’re not interested in hearing it. You’ve made your decision, and that’s final. You start walking away, with quick angry steps, fist clenched against your side as your heart beats harshly against your rib cage. You can hear his footsteps behind you for a few seconds, yet you refuse to look back once he stops. You don’t want to know if he’s smirking smugly knowing he got a big reaction out of you, or if the seriousness in his eyes was as sincere as his words. All you want is to be as far from him as possible. How could someone who spend the entirety of high school teasing and bothering you could suddenly feel something so deep about you? Impossible.

---

The next few days are a blur of failed interactions. Jimin seems determined to win you over, but his attempts only seem to make everything worse. You quickly started to simply ignoring him, not even looking his way as he rambled on about stupid things to you and now, you even leave the moment he comes your way or is near to you. Which is what your doing right now; hiding from him as you wait for Minji to arrive at your usual spot in the courtyard, trying to block out the noise of the students around you. Until you catch a snippet of conversation from a familiar voice. Jimin’s voice is unmistakable, but this time, it’s different. He’s not smirking, you can even hear the frown. He sounds… frustrated. And since he hasn’t noticed you, you decide to eavesdrop a little.

“Dude, she won’t even talk to me anymore!” he says, kicking at the dirt under him as he talks to his friends. “I tried being serious with her. I laid it all out there. But she just walked off. Told me to ‘piss off.’”

The guys exchange glances, and you watch as Taehyung raises an eyebrow. “You seriously just said that to her? Out of nowhere?”

“Yeah, well… It’s been bothering me for awhile and, I don’t know, I needed to get it off my chest.“ Jimin huffs, looking down at his dirty shoes. “She’s not making it easy. But I’m not giving up, she’ll come around.”

Namjoon leans back, crossing his arms. “What you need to do is prove to her you’re serious. That it’s not just some game. You need to show her that you’re not just playing around.”

You smile slightly at Namjoon’s wise words. Maybe not all his friends are stupid, maybe it’s just him.

“I already told her I want everything.” Jimin mutters, frustration dripping from his words. “I can’t make it clearer than that!”

Yoongi, who’s been mostly silent, chuckles. “You know, Jimin, you might need to step it up. Girls don’t just fall for the first pretty words they hear, you’ve gotta show her you mean it.”

“She won’t listen, she avoids me!“ He puts a hand in his hair, pushing it back. “She always use her friend to run away from me...“

Your eyes widen as your heart drops to your stomach, realizing just how serious this is for him. He’s speaking with the same seriousness he did when confessing to you, but now it’s to his friends. So…maybe it wasn’t a trick? You start to feel a tingling in your lower belly at that thought and you quickly come back to reality, slapping your stomach to punish it for doing that. Then, you feel your cheek warm up so, of course, you also slap them. You hold your face for a moment then run off, not wanting to hear the rest of that conversation or else you might end up even more confused. You’ll have to find Minji elsewhere.

“You just gotta get her alone. Show her you’re different from the rest.” Jungkook shrugs.

“You’re right, but how do I do that?”

“We’ll need help. “ Namjoon looks around before focusing on something—or rather, someone—in the distance, coming closer to the spot where they are, looking around. “And what better help than her best friend.”

——

At lunch the next day, Jimin slides into the seat next to you in the cafeteria, uninvited as always. Minji raises an eyebrow before relaxing her face once she see’s who it is but doesn’t say anything, clearly amused by the whole situation.

“Hey, can I sit here?” Jimin asks, his voice tentative. He seems a little out of place, the usual playful spark missing.

“You’ve sat before asking that, so might as well stay here.“ Minji respond, chewing on her food.

You glare at him without responding while he glares at your friend, turning your attention back to your lunch the moment he starts to look at you, not wanting to engage. But Jimin doesn’t back off. He nudges your arm with his elbow, and when you don’t react, he sighs dramatically.

“You know…” he starts, trying to soften his tone by coughing, “I don’t know why you’re so mad at me. Why are you so mad?”

“Really? You’re seriously asking me that?” You look at him, eyebrows raised.

But if you’re honest, you don’t even know anymore why you were. What you do know is that you’re mad at how he makes you feel, so yes, you’re still angry at him technically. Jimin winces, realizing he’s messed up somehow again as he plays nervously with his bracelet.

“I just… I don’t know what I did wrong. I’m trying, okay?”

“You’re not trying.“ You shake your head. “You’re just making things worse. I’ve told you before—I’m not interested.”

“I wasn’t trying to annoy you!“ His face drops for a second, but he tries to recover. “I just want to get to know you, for real. I want you to see that I’m not really that stupid, I’m different than what I showed you.“

You know that. You do, now. But you refuse to give him the chance to prove it, too scared to fall into some kind of trap and end up heartbroken.

“You think being ‘different’ is going to make me suddenly care?“ You sigh heavily. “You’re wasting your time.”

He opens his mouth to protest, but you stand up abruptly, grabbing your things. “Leave me alone, Jimin.”

He turns to look at Minji who simply shrugs before standing up, following you with her empty food trail.

---

The next day, Jimin corners you near the lockers before class. He’s holding something small in his hand, a piece of paper folded neatly. “Here,” he says, thrusting it toward you. “I wrote this for you.”

You take the paper reluctantly, unfolding it. It’s a note, but special, more than just a simple letter with emotions slapped onto it. “Are those…lyrics?“

I know I’ve been a little bold,

Chasing you, a truth never told.

Maybe I’ve annoyed you, that’s true,

But I swear I’m just tryna get through to you.

Give me a chance, just one little try,

I promise I’m more than a wink and a sigh.

Not here for a game, not here for the show,

Just here for you, and I hope you know—

You close your eyes the moment you feel the butterflies chasing around in your stomach again. Why is such a stupid thing making you feel so much? You can’t let it. Not with something he probably found in a book or that one of his friends wrote for him.

“Is this supposed to make me change my mind?” you ask, rolling your eyes, trying to hide the flush to your cheeks.

“Yeah.“ He nods, a faint hopeful smile on his face. “Maybe it’ll make you see that I’m not all bad.”

You don’t even know how to respond to that as you gulp, looking at his pink lips smiling shyly like you’ve never seen them before. You want to tell him that he’s wasting his time, that this kind of thing won’t work on you. But as those harsh words fail to come out, you just crumple the paper in your hand, toss it in the nearest trash can, and walk away without a word.

---

The next day, you find yourself on the soccer field again, and Jimin is there with his friends. You can hear them laughing, teasing him but this time, you decide to not listen to them, not wanting to hear more than what you should.

“You’re still at it with her, huh?” Taehyung says with a grin.

“I’ll get her to see I’m not playing around.“ Jimin shrugs, but the look on his face is serious. “I won’t stop.”

“That’s the thing with you, you never give up.“ Namjoon looks up from his notebook. “You’re going to have to prove it to her, Jimin. Show her that you mean it by being sincere and stopping with your though guy attitude.”

“Don’t forget that you have Minji on your side too now!“ Jin yells as he drinks water, panting from running around.

“Yeah, I think it’s time I speak with her again.“

Jimin nods, determination settling over him. And so, the game continues. Jimin is stubborn, everyone knows that, but it seems you are even more when it comes to him and you made up your mind the moment he tried to flirt with you for the first time; you’re not falling for it. But as the days have went by, something about him, something about the sincerity in his eyes, starts to chip away at the walls you’ve built. You can’t ignore it forever, you’ll have to face it.

——

After glancing Jimin’s way during the hole soccer game multiples times, you find yourself seeking refuge with Minji more than ever, feeling like your about to explose from the confusion in your heart. She’s always been the one to help you navigate the chaos of school life, offering a listening ear and solid advice when you need it most. Even if she laughs thought a lot of it. As you both sit on the steps outside the school building once the game finished, watching the students go quickly for lunch, Minji looks at you with an amused smile.

“So, how’s the Jimin situation going?” She asks casually, though you can hear the underlying curiosity in her voice.

“Ugh…“ You groan, resting your head in your hands. “I don’t even want to think about it.”

“Oh, come on.“ Minji snickers, nudging your shoulder. “I saw the way he was looking at you under the bleachers the other day. And at the cafeteria the next. And in math class yesterday. And at—“

“Ok, ok you can stop now!“ you groan, furrowing your face deeper in your hands. “He’s just so… persistent. He won’t leave me alone.”

Minji’s smile softens, and she leans back, crossing her arms. “He’s a little much sometimes, I’ll admit. But... do you think he’s serious? I mean, it seems like he’s really trying to get through to you.”

“I don’t care what he’s trying to do. I’m not falling for it. I’ve had enough of his games.” You say quickly as you lift your han to look at her with furrowed brows. “I’m not dumb enough to fall for it.“

“I get it, really, I do…“ Minji nods thoughtfully. “But, you know, maybe—just maybe—he’s being sincere.“

You narrow your eyes at her, taken aback by the lack of smile on her face that she always as when she’s playing with you, only seeing seriousness in her eyes.

“I mean, he’s been going out of his way to get your attention in a more positive way, and that can’t be easy, right?” You give her a skeptical look, but she shrugs. “I’m just saying, you might want to think about it. You don’t have to let him in, but maybe just hear him out.”

“You don’t get it, Minji. I don’t have time for him and his drama.“ You shake your head, still unwilling to consider her point of view. “He’s just bored at school and looking for a challenge to entertain him.”

Minji doesn’t respond right away, choosing instead to let the conversation hang in the air for a few moments. Finally, she breaks the silence with a sigh.

“Well, whatever you decide, I’m here for you.“ She gently rubs your back. “You know that, right?”

You look at her, grateful for the reassurance. “Yeah. I know. Thanks.”

———

A few days later, days in which you haven’t seen Jimin, making you feel a weirdly empty, Minji corners you in the hallway after school. You’re just about to head out to your next class when she grabs your arm, pulling you into a corner by the lockers.

“Okay, listen.” she starts, her voice lowered but filled with urgency. “I’m tired of watching you avoid him. It’s obvious he’s trying, and it’s also obvious that you’re starting to soften a little. So, how about you just hear him out? For real this time. No running away, no cutting him off. Just… talk to him.”

“What?“ You stare at her in disbelief. “Are you serious right now?”

“Absolutely.” she replies, her eyes lighting up with mischievous energy. “Look, I’m not saying you should fall for him or anything, but I just think you need to have one honest conversation. Let him prove that he’s actually serious about all this.”

“Where is this coming from?“ You question, not believing what your hearing.

“Since we had that conversation, I saw just how confused you looked about te whole situation while trying your best no to betray yourself and you promised never to do.“ She takes a breath, her smile widening. “Which is believe he’s sincere and not just a dumb teenage boy with hormones going up.“

You laugh despite yourself, feeling the weight of the pressure she’s putting on you to face your feelings.

“Also because you’ve been a living corpse roaming around the school since he hasn’t come to bother you and I’m tired of it.“ She sighs, rolling her eyes.

“Minji!“ You gasp, your cheeks reddening. “I’m not—“

“SO, talking to him tomorrow and listening to what he has to say without shutting him out, how does that sound?“

“I don’t know, Minji. I’m just… I’m not ready for that.” She places both hands on your shoulders, giving you a soft shake.

“I promise you won’t regret it. Besides, you don’t have to go through with anything you’re not comfortable with. She smiles reassuringly a you. “Just give him the chance to show you that he’s not playing games.”

Before you can protest any further, Minji grabs your hand and drags you gently down the hallway.

“Wait, where are we going?” you ask, half-laughing as she pulls you along.

“To prep you for tomorrow’s talk.“ Minji doesn’t answer immediately, only giving you a sly smile. “We’re going to make sure you and Jimin have that conversation in a calm way, whether you like it or not.”

——

The next day, Minji’s plan comes to fruition in a way you never could have predicted. During lunch, she suddenly suggests you “find an excuse” to leave the cafeteria. At first, you protest, not understanding why she insists on dragging you away from your usual routine. But Minji’s relentless.

“Just trust me!” she says, her tone sweet but determined. “You’ll thank me later.”

Reluctantly, you follow her out of the cafeteria, still clueless as to what exactly she’s up to. You’re just about to ask her what the deal is when she gives you a mischievous grin.

“We’re going to the bleachers.” she announces.

“Why?” you ask, now feeling slightly uncomfortable. “Why are we going there?”

Minji shrugs, her eyes glinting with mischief. “You’ll see.”

You try to argue, but she’s already leading you across the school grounds toward the bleachers. As you approach, you see a familiar figure standing off to the side, looking like he’s been waiting for something—or someone. Jimin. Your stomach flips uncomfortably as you try to pull back, suddenly all your build courage fading away. But Minji’s grip on your wrist tightens, pulling you closer.

“Minji, seriously—” you start to protest, but she’s not listening.

She gives you a push, sending you in Jimin’s direction before turning on her heel and walking away with a wink. “Good luck!”

You watch her walk off, your jaw dropping as you realize what just happened. You’re stuck with Jimin. Alone. Under the bleachers. Jimin turns toward you as you step hesitantly toward him, his eyes lighting up when he sees you. There’s no smirk, no teasing—only the same serious expression that has been haunting you for the past week. His hair isn’t in front of his eyes, their pushed back in a slick back, making you see his full face for the first time. Did he…clean up for this?

“You didn’t have to come…” he says quietly, as if he’s unsure if you’ll even speak to him.

“I didn’t.” you mutter, your voice quieter than you intended. “Minji dragged me here. This is all her idea. I was dragged here.”

All that work yesterday about staying calm and being friendly only for you to be agressive the moment he opens his mouth, great. While you curse yourself, he takes a step closer, eyes searching yours.

“I don’t want to play games with you anymore.” he says, his voice earnest. “Haven’t for quite a moment. I know you think I’m just some guy messing around, but I’m not.“

He takes a deep breath, closing his eyes for a moment, giving you the time to gulp as your body stiffens at his every word.

“I really like you.“ He finally sighs, looking at you again. “I’ve liked you for a long time.”

You’re caught off guard by his sincerity. This isn’t the Jimin you’ve seen before—the teasing, cocky version. This is someone different. Someone who’s laying everything on the line. You see it, the sincerity. He’s not trying to trick you or mock you, he’s trying to make you see what he feels. And how do you see it, so bright and soft, piercing right trough the wall that you’ve build around your heart.

“I know I’ve messed up. I’ve probably said all the wrong things, done all the wrong things. But I want you to know that I’m serious. I’m not going to run away just because you don’t like me back. I’ll prove it. I’ll prove to you that I’m worth it.”

The words hang in the air between you two, your heart beating in your chest, your thoughts a whirlwind. For a moment, you’re unsure of how to react. You want to believe him, but can you? Can you really trust this side of Jimin?

“I don’t know what to say…” you whisper, feeling the weight of his words settle on you.

Jimin steps closer, his gaze softening. “Just… give me a chance. That’s all I’m asking for. A chance to show you who I really am. Who I can be for you.”

It’s hard to ignore the sincerity in his voice, and for the first time, you realize you’ve been wrong about him all along. To stubborn to see what was right in front of you as well as what was right inside of you, mirroring what he was feeling. You look at him, your breath catching in your throat. Could this really be the Jimin you’ve been avoiding? But one thing is clear: he’s not letting go without a fight. With a hesitating hand, he slowly takes yours, his warmth sending shivers down your body. You look at his hand engulfing yours before looking at his eyes again, full of longing. You stood there, staring at Jimin, the words swirling in your head but refusing to leave your lips. His hand was still warm in yours, the silence between you heavy with emotions you weren’t sure how to handle. It had all happened so fast, and yet, nothing had felt more real. He squeezed your hand slightly, breaking the silence as he looked at his dirty shoes.

"I don’t really know why I feel this way for you." he began, his voice quieter than usual. "I mean, at first, I just thought you were pretty. I wanted you to look at me, even if it was just for a second."

His words were like a quiet confession, one that made your chest tighten. He seemed unsure, vulnerable, in a way you’d never seen before. You met his gaze again when he looked back up, surprised by his honesty, but he wasn’t finished yet. He let out a soft breath and continued, his thumb tracing mindlessly small circles on your hand, to reassure himself.

"But then... it wasn’t just that. I started to like you, not only because of how you look, but because of who you are. The way you think, the way you smile when you’re not trying to hide it. I wanted to make you smile, even just once, for me. I needed it to be directed at me so bad."

You felt your heart race as you listened. The way he was speaking... it wasn’t the cocky, playful Jimin you were used to. This was the real him, the one that had slowly crept into your thoughts without you realizing.

"I know I’ve probably messed everything up by being a dumbass…" he said, looking down at his feet again, suddenly feeling unsure of himself. "I don’t know how to do this. I don’t know how to make you believe me, but I want to show you that I’m serious. I just want you to believe me, no matter how many times I have to say that I’m not just playing around with you."

You swallowed hard, the lump in your throat thick. You wanted to respond, but you didn’t know what to say. You’d been so sure that Jimin was just toying with you, that this was all a game to him. You refused to believe anything else. But now... all of it was falling down.

"I..." You hesitated, finally pulling your hand from his. "I don’t know if I can believe you yet, Jimin. It feels like...it’s too good to be true. That you’ll smile proudly and abandon me the moment I say that I also like you."

His eyes widened slightly, and you could see the hurt flash across his face, knowing that it’s his own fault for making you feel like that. He opened his mouth to respond but quickly shut it, taking a deep breath instead.

"I understand, I’m sorry." He said softly. "I can wait. I don’t want to rush you into anything, I just want you to know, I’m being so serious. I don’t want this to be a joke because it’s not to me, it hasn’t been for a long time."

There was a long pause. You bit your lip, your heart battling your mind. You weren’t sure if you were ready for all this, but something in you wanted to give him a chance. Just one chance.

"I need time." You finally said, your voice trembling. "I need to think about it. But... I’ll try. I’ll give you a chance. Just, don’t rush me."

Jimin’s face softened, and a small, relieved smile tugged at his lips.

"I can wait!" he repeated, smiling shyly. "I’ll give you all the time you need."

The air between you was charged, and as you both stood there in silence, the weight of the moment settled in. The world felt a little smaller, as if everything had shifted in that one conversation. You looked at his face, studying it, feeling like you saw it for the first time. Was he always that handsome…? Then, suddenly, you broke the silence with a quiet question.

"Jimin..." You looked at him, your voice barely above a whisper. "Can I... kiss you?"

Jimin didn’t answer at first. His eyes locked with yours, searching for something you weren’t sure of. Before you could even second-guess yourself, he leaned forward, his lips brushing against yours in a kiss that felt like it had been waiting to happen for far too long. It wasn’t passionate, not at first. It was soft, tentative, almost as if neither of you were sure if this was the right moment or how to even do it. But as his hand cupped your face and you leaned into the kiss, the hesitation melted away. The world around you disappeared, leaving only the two of you standing in the stillness of the moment. When he pulled back, his eyes were wide, and there was a softness in his gaze that made your heart flutter.

"That…" he whispered, his voice a little breathless, "Was worth the wait."

You smiled, your fingers lightly touching your lips as if the kiss had left a mark you couldn’t erase. As he saw you smile so shyly and sincerely, your red flushed cheeks, he couldn’t help but mirror your depression, giggling while he hid his face in one his hand.

"Maybe you were right, Jimin." you said softly, looking at him softly. "Maybe this isn’t a game after all."

And for the first time, you sincerely felt like maybe, just maybe, it wasn’t.

[dae-chwiita]

thank you sm, so glad you loved it🫶

Blood Stained Words

Pairing : Jongho x reader

Summary : Jongho hasn’t talked to you in month since you got a boyfriend, but when he see’s him getting touchy with you while you’re uncomfortable, he stops thinking and it quickly escalate, ending up on the sidewalk with you having to hold bloody tissues to his face.

Warning : insults, some arguing and fighting, really really long oops but other than that PURE FLUFF

A/N : so, this is my first long fic this might be really bad I’m so sorry y'all🙏 also my first Jongho fic?!! I’m scared this will flop because my boy seems so unpopular, i see barely any solo fic of him so i hope the three Jongho x reader enjoyer will come trough on this one😔 I’ve been spending way too much time on this so, not really proofread, sorry ‘bout that, they will be some mistake guys! hope you’ll enjoy this even if I’m scared this is BAD we’ll see ig

The club was a blur of neon lights and throbbing music, but Jongho’s mind was miles away. It wasn’t the chaos around him that consumed him—it was you. He watched as you laughed with Wooyoung and Yunho, the sound of your voice floating above the bass of the music, causing his chest to ache. There was a sadness in his heart, a quiet longing that grew stronger each time you smiled, each time you touched Mingi’s arm, each time he saw the way your attention shifted away from him.

It had been months since he had allowed his feelings for you to surface. Months of pretending, of watching from the sidelines as you moved on from him, from your friendship, as you fell for someone else and not him. And now, standing in this crowded club, he realized that pretending was no longer enough. He couldn’t stand the sight of this Beom guy pulling you closer, brushing his hand against your waist with that cocky, possessive grin. It was too much. He tried his best to focus on the conversation he was having with Wooyoung and Yunho, but his eyes didn’t seem obedient this evening.

When Beom’s hand slid down your back, the moment of contact lasting a little too long, Jongho’s blood boiled. He could see how uncomfortable you were, how you were clearly trying to shift away from him, but you didn’t have the strength to push him away. He saw your fingers twitch, your body tense as you subtly tried to remove his touch, but Beom wasn’t giving in. Jongho’s instincts flared. He couldn’t just stand here and watch this. Not when he knew how you felt—he could see it in your eyes. He didn’t know why you were avoiding your boyfriend touch -probably an argument, like you always seemed to have- by he knew that it made him lose his sanity when he saw you like that.

“Jongho?” Wooyoung’s voice snapped him out of his thoughts. He glanced over, only to see Wooyoung’s concerned expression. He followed his friend’s gaze to where you were with Beom.

“Oh no.“ Wooyoung sighed.

“Did they argue again or something?“ Yunho asked after also turning his head.

“Well…“ His voice grew serious as his eyes flickered between Jongho and you. “They kinda, broke up a few days ago and he seems drunk so…“

Jongho froze, confusion clouding his thoughts. What? Beom and you had broken up?

“Yeah, don’t get too close.“ Wooyoung whispered to Jungho firmly. “She’s still sorting everything out.“ His voice was quiet, cautious, but his eyes were filled with a mix of understanding and concern.

Jongho’s chest tightened at the news. His stomach churned with a mixture of relief and guilt. You and Beom were done, and yet here he was, stuck in his own silence, unable to make his move. The thought of you, the person he cared about more than anything, being in this position—uncomfortable, vulnerable—made him sick. He couldn’t just sit and watch you get harassed.

Without another word, he pushed past his two friends, Wooyoung calling out to him to come back while Yunho smushed him quickly. Walking toward you, his fist clenched, determined to do something about it. His heart raced in his chest as he moved through the crowd. The sight of Beom’s hand still on your waist, holding you like he had a right to, made something inside Jongho snap.

“Hey, Beom.” Jongho called out, his voice sharp and steady.

He turned, eyes narrowing at the sound of Jongho’s voice. His lips curled into a smirk when he saw who it was. “What’s up, little guy?” he asked, his tone nonchalant, but there was a slight edge to it.

“You need to let go of her.“ Jongho said, his voice quiet but firm. He stepped closer, his fists trembling at his sides. “You’re making her uncomfortable.”

Beom’s eyes flickered over to you, his expression suddenly cold. His hand dropped from your waist, but his body language didn’t change.

“What’s your problem?” he sneered, his posture challenging. “What, you think you can tell me what to do with her?”

“You don’t get to touch her like that." Jongho’s gaze hardened, his pulse quickening. "Not anymore.”

The tension between them was palpable. The music from the club blared around them, but it was as though the noise faded away. Jongho’s focus was solely on Beom, on the anger building in his chest. But Beom wasn’t backing down, he rarely did. He’s taller than Jongho and looks way more intimitading. He took a step forward, his eyes blazing.

“You think you can just waltz in here and act like you own her?” Beom spat, stepping even closer. “She’s not yours. She’s mine.”

“Beom, don’t-“ You finally said, coming out of of your shock to Jongho appearance.

Before you could finish or Jongho could respond, Beom shoved him hard in the chest, and he stumbled back, barely managing to catch himself on a nearby table full of bottles. His heart raced, but he didn’t let Beom see the effect it had on him. Some people turned their heads to the sound of the table scratching on the ground, making you look around nervously.

“You’ve always been in the way!” Beom growled, and Jongho felt his stomach twist in anger. “Always hovering around her like you’re her fucking hero. You’re the reason we broke up, you know that?!”

The words hit Jongho like a punch to the gut. His mind raced, trying to process what Beom was saying. It’s my fault? The pain in his chest deepened, and before he could gather his thoughts, Beom threw a punch that landed squarely on his nose, making you gasp in horror.

The impact was sharp. Pain exploded in Jongho’s face, and for a split second, the world spun around him. Blood poured from his nose, his vision blurring as he staggered backward.

“Jongho!” You shouted, your voice panicked, but Beom was already approaching him again. “Fuck off you dick! Before security come drag your ass out of here!“

He looked at you, surprised by your sudden anger. He scoffed, leaving Jongho standing there in shock, his nose bleeding. He stumbled, disoriented, but it was you grabbed his arm, steadying him. You quickly helped him to go outside, pushing harshly through people laughing and hollering at both of you, your hands supporting him as the adrenaline surged through his veins.

“Are you okay?” you asked, your voice laced with worry.

Your hands were gentle but firm, trying to stop the blood from continuing to flow. The way you touched him, so careful, so tender, only made his heart race faster. Jongho didn’t respond. He was too overwhelmed by the combination of pain and the realization that you were here, close to him, your trembling hands covered with blood holding his nose. For the first time in months, you were touching him again.

You hurried him outside of the club to the pavement, away from the noise and chaos, and helped him sit down on the side walk. The cold air hit his face, and his breath came in ragged gasps as he tried to compose himself. But he couldn’t stop thinking about how close you were, how your fingers had brushed his skin, how your hands had steadied him. He barely registered what you were saying as you frantically wiped his face with tissues you got from your bag, trying to stop the bleeding.

All he could do was stare at you.

His mind was a blur of emotions, of everything he had kept hidden for so long. His heart hammered in his chest as you scolded him, your voice trembling with concern.

“Jongho, what the hell were you thinking?!” you ramble, your voice thick with worry as you dab at his nose. “You shouldn’t have come talk to to him at all!”

He didn’t respond. He couldn’t. All he could do was focus on the feeling of your hands touching him. The warmth of your fingers as they carefully dabbed at his nose, the way your hands gently cupped his face as you tilted his head up to meet your eyes. His breath hitched, his heart pounding faster, and all he could do was stare at you, too afraid to speak. You continued to scold him softly, your words a blur in his ears as his eyes traced every inch of your face. The way your hair cascaded around your shoulders, the way your eyes flickered between the bloodied tissues and his face with such tenderness. He hadn’t realized how badly he’d missed this—the softness of your touch, the care in your eyes, the closeness of your presence.

I’ve missed this, Jongho thought, his pulse racing. I’ve missed you so much.

His chest tightened with every passing second, and he felt like his heart was going to burst from how much he wanted you. He didn’t know what to say, didn’t know how to explain how he felt. All he could do was watch you, trying to hold onto every moment. Your fingers brushed the back of his head, gently moving through his hair, and he swore his heart stopped. His breath hitched in his throat, and his eyes fluttered shut as he leaned into your touch, desperate for more. He couldn’t believe this was happening. After all the months of pretending, of keeping his distance, of silently suffering as you pulled away from him… You’re here. You’re touching him again.

“Jongho…” you murmured softly, your voice barely above a whisper. “Why did you do that? Why did you let Beom get to you like that?”

Jongho didn’t have the words. He couldn’t explain it. He just knew that in this moment, with your hand still gently cradling his face, he couldn’t help but feel like everything had finally come into focus.

“I didn’t want to lose you.” he confessed, his voice shaky. His heart was hammering so loudly in his chest that he wasn’t sure you could even hear him. “You seemed so uncomfortable, I didn’t even recognize you with how much your face was distorted from disgust ad anger.“

You paused, your gaze softening as you looked at him, your fingers still gently caressing the back of his neck, a quick smile appearing before you downed again. You leaned closer, your forehead almost touching his as you spoke.

“I don’t want to lose you either.” you whispered, your voice barely audible. “So stop being stupid like that.

The words hung in the air between you, heavy and meaningful, and for a long moment, neither of you spoke. All that existed was the soft sound of your breath and the feeling of your hands on his skin, grounding him in the moment. Jongho’s heart raced faster and faster, every second making him feel more desperate for you. His entire body was screaming for your touch, for your affection, for the closeness that he had missed for so long.

“I love you.” he whispered, his voice breaking, filled with emotion.

Your eyes widened, and for a moment, there was nothing but silence. But then, slowly, you smiled, your lips softening, and you kissed his forehead gently.

Jongho’s heart was racing. His confession, the words that had been trapped inside him for so long, had escaped his mouth before he could stop them. The moment the words "I love you" left his lips, he froze, wide-eyed, realizing what he had just said. His heart skipped a beat, and a heat bloomed across his chest. He cursed himself silently under his breath. His face flushed crimson as he quickly turned his head away, his heart pounding faster than ever. He reached up and wiped the blood from his nose with the back of his hand, but he was too flustered to even make sense of the situation. He hadn’t meant to say that aloud. He hadn’t even thought about how it might affect you. He didn’t want to make things more awkward than they already were. He just… he just wanted you to know how he felt.

Your hands, gentle as always, slowly dropped from his face. The tissues you had been holding, now stained with blood, fell onto the pavement as he moved away, wanting to escape the moment, escape your eyes. How desperate for you he is to blur out the L word only because your touching and talking to him after not doing it for only a few months…

"Jongho." you called out softly, concern and affection still laced in your voice. "You're still bleeding, come here."

But Jongho, in his embarrassment, couldn't bear to meet your gaze. He buried his face in his knees, hiding from you as his heart hammered in his chest. The blood continued to drip, but the only thing that mattered to him in that moment was the way you had looked at him. It was too much. He wants to disappear in the old concrete and be walked on for the rest of his life.

You sighed, clearly exasperated by his antics, but there was still a tenderness in your tone. "Jongho, you're putting blood all over your jeans."

He didn't respond. The weight of his confession and his growing panic made his mind race. What if you didn’t feel the same? What if this ruined everything between us? You were clearly ignoring what he just said. trying to ignore the subject while he was acting like a stupid teenager who just got touched by. Girl for the first time in his life. He couldn’t even bear to look up. He wanted to disappear, to erase what he had just said…Why weren’t you talking anymore? Did you leave? Or couldn’t he hear your voice anymore because of how loudly his heart was hitting in his chest? He wanted to look up, but his head was glued to his knees. The silence between you both was unbearable. It felt like time was standing still, the tension thick in the air.

The silence dragged on for what felt like an eternity, until Jongho couldn’t take it anymore. He slowly, hesitantly, lifted his head, blinking rapidly as his eyes found yours. He nearly jumped in shock when he saw you squatting in front of him, your face now right in front of his. Your eyes were focused entirely on him, intense but not unkind, and it made him freeze once again. Jongho tried to look away, his cheeks still burning as bright as the smeared blood on his face, but your hand reached out and gently grasped his chin. With a firmness that made his heart race even faster, you tilted his head back, forcing him to meet your gaze.

“Do you know why Beom said that?” you asked softly, your voice still calm but with an underlying seriousness. “Do you know why he said it was your fault that we broke up?”

Jongho's breath hitched, and he felt his heart skip a beat. He opened his mouth to respond, but his voice caught in his throat. He swallowed hard, unable to form the words. He only managed to shake his head in answer, telling you that he didn’t. You didn’t seem to be upset by his silence, instead you continued to look at him with understanding, your fingers gently tracing the line of his jaw. The way you looked at him made him feel vulnerable, like every emotion he had been hiding for so long was suddenly on display for you to see.

“You don’t know…” you said, your voice soft. “It’s because when we stopped talking, you and me… when we stopped seeing each other as much, all I did was talk about you. I talked about you all the time. About how much I missed you, about the things I wanted to say to you.”

Jongho’s heart tightened in his chest. He didn’t know what to say. He had never imagined that you would talk about him like that. His mind was swirling, trying to grasp everything you were telling him, but he couldn’t make sense of it all. He wanted to interrupt you, to tell you that he had missed you too, but your words held him captive.

“There were times when Beom got so frustrated.” you continued, your eyes darkening slightly with the memory. “He’d accuse me of being obsessed with you, of wanting to date you, and it started arguments. But I didn’t know how to stop. All I could think about was you.”

You paused for a moment, and the silence between you both deepened. Jongho’s breath caught in his throat. He could feel the weight of your confession, the rawness of the emotions you were revealing, your way of saying I love you. And even though he was still processing everything, a part of him couldn’t help but feel relieved. He wasn’t alone in his feelings. He wasn’t the only one who had been holding on to something for so long. he wasn’t the only one to be so desperate. You leaned in a little closer, your gaze steady, unwavering.

“It got to the point where I realized Beom was right.” you said, your voice a little quieter now, almost as if you were confessing something deeply personal. “I hadn’t let you go. I hadn’t stopped thinking about you, Jongho. And that’s why we broke up.”

Jongho’s eyes widened at your words, and his heart slammed against his chest for the hundredth time but sometime, with a new force. His throat was dry, and for a moment, his brain stoped working. The realization hit him like a tidal wave—You had broken up with Beom because of him- no, for him. He wasn’t sure what he had expected, but it certainly wasn’t this. Everything he had been holding back, everything he had been too scared to admit, suddenly felt too real. The ache in his heart that had been gnawing at him for so long now made sense. You had been feeling the same way. He distanced himself for you for months because o how much he needed you, how he felt too much for you, only for it to be reciprocated. How stupid and happy he feels.

“Jongho, I don’t want to pretend anymore.“ You reached out, your fingers gently brushing against his cheek as you spoke again, your voice soft but steady, bringing him back to reality. “I don’t want to hide how I feel. I don’t want to hide from you.”

He swallowed hard, his hands shaking as he lifted them to his sides. His mind raced, and the sudden realization of what was happening made everything feel surreal. You were confessing too. You were telling him what he had been dying to hear for so long, but still, he couldn’t believe it.

“I’m sorry…” he whispered, his voice low and full of emotion. “I’m so sorry for not saying anything sooner.”

You shook your head, a small smile tugging at the corner of your lips as you finally hear his voice again.

“You don’t need to apologize. We both took too long for what was right in front of us.”

For a brief moment, everything seemed to quiet down. Jongho could barely breathe, his heart pounding in his chest as he watched you, still holding his face so gently. All the doubts, the fears, the confusion—it all melted away. Finally, the truth was out there. You and Jongho, both desperate for each other, both aching for something real, something that had been buried too long. And as he looked into your eyes, he could feel the distance between you closing. It was like something in him finally clicked, and all the tension, all the pain he had carried, finally started to release.

“I love you.” Jongho whispered again, his voice trembling. “I’ve always loved you.“

Jongho’s breath hitched again, this time much more pronounced, as he struggled to form his next words. His hands were trembling, barely able to stay steady by his sides. The weight of everything he had kept inside for so long was finally pushing its way to the surface. He felt like his chest was going to collapse under the pressure of the emotions, of the longing, the desperation, the love that had been simmering beneath the surface for what felt like an eternity. He reached up, almost as if instinctually, and gripped your wrist where it rested against his cheek. His fingers were warm, shaky, desperate. His eyes were brimming with so many unsaid things, looking into yours like he was searching for some kind of reassurance. But you didn’t need to say anything. He could see it in your eyes, feel it in the way you were holding him, the way you were there, really there with him, after everything that had happened.

“I… I don’t even know where to start.“ Jongho whispered hoarsely, his voice thick with emotion. He swallowed hard, his throat dry, as if the words had been stuck in his chest for too long, refusing to come out. He whipped his nose with the back of sleeve quickly, feeling the blood drying.

“I’ve spent the past year trying to ignore this feeling… trying to hide it from you, from myself. I thought maybe it would go away, but it never did. I kept hoping, praying… that one day I’d be able to tell you everything. That I could find the courage. But the more I tried to push it down, the worse it got. And the more I saw you with Beom, the more I hated myself. I hated the way I couldn't tell you what I felt. Hated how you were slipping away from me, even though I knew it was my fault.”

His voice wavered as he spoke, and the words poured out in a broken stream, as if they had been waiting to escape for so long. His hands tightened on your wrist, his grip almost painful, but you didn’t pull away. You didn’t even flinch. You just let him say it all, let him feel everything he needed to feel.

“I’ve never stopped thinking about you. Not for a single moment. Not even when we were so far apart, when I thought you didn’t even notice me anymore.” he continued, his eyes wet with unshed tears, the rawness in his voice cutting through the quiet air between you both. “You’ve always been there in my heart, in my mind… and I didn’t know how to deal with it. I tried to act like it wasn’t affecting me, like it didn’t matter, but it does, it matters more than anything. You matter more than anything, and I can’t keep pretending like I’m okay when I’m not. When I’m broken inside because you’re not here with me. Because I was too fucking scared to admit that I need you. That I want you in a way I can't even explain."

He took a shaky breath, trying to calm himself, but it only made the ache in his chest more unbearable. The tears that had been threatening to fall were now pooling in his eyes, his heart aching with every word.

“Do you have any idea how much it hurt?” he whispered, his voice barely audible, but filled with so much longing, so much raw, unfiltered emotion. “Every time you laughed, every time you smiled… every time I heard your voice and I couldn’t be the one to make you smile like that. Every time I saw you with him, and I couldn’t hold you like he could, couldn’t tell you how much I wanted you to be happy… but I couldn’t even give you that. I couldn’t even give you the one thing that you needed from me because… just because I was too afraid. Afraid that if I told you how I felt, I’d lose you.”

His breath hitched again, a broken sound escaping his lips. “And when you started talking to me less and less as you started talking to Beom more, I thought I was losing you for good. I thought you were slipping away, and I couldn’t do anything to stop it. I just stood there, watching it happen. I just… watched you go. And I knew, deep down, it was my fault. Because I couldn’t tell you that I needed you. That I loved you. That I’ve always loved you, way longer than he did.“

The words hung heavy between you both, but Jongho wasn’t finished. He couldn’t stop. He couldn’t hold it in any longer. His body trembled with the force of his emotions, and his eyes, glassy and filled with a deep ache, locked onto yours with a desperate intensity.

“I love you." he repeated again, as if he couldn’t stop himself from saying it with how much he felt it, but this time it was more than just words. It was a confession of everything he had been too afraid to say.

"I’ve loved you for so long, and I didn’t know how to show it. But I can’t hide it anymore. I can’t pretend anymore, because it’s killing me. I don’t want to lose you. I don’t want to watch you walk away from me again. I just need you to know… that I love you, even when I didn’t have the courage to say it.”

He paused for a moment, his hands still gripping yours like a lifeline, his gaze never leaving yours. He was trembling now, his voice thick with emotion, but there was a sense of relief in his words, like he had finally let go of the weight that had been suffocating him.

"I don't know what to do without you." he continued, his voice barely above a whisper, raw and full of yearning. "I thought I could move on, I thought I could just forget you, but I couldn’t. I couldn’t ever forget you. You’re all I think about. Every damn day. I want you in my life, more than anything. I don’t care if it’s messy, I don’t care if it’s hard—I just want you, with me, in my life."

His eyes were pleading now, desperate for you to understand, to see how much he meant every single word. His entire body was tense, like a coiled spring, ready to unravel if you didn’t say something. His heart was in his throat, beating erratically, and every time you blinked, it felt like his world was crashing down.

“I know I’ve made mistakes," he said softly, his voice trembling with vulnerability. "But if you’ll let me… if you’ll just give me a chance… I swear I’ll never let you go again. I don’t care how long it takes… I’ll wait for you, I’ll fight for you, I’ll do whatever it takes to make you see that I can love you the way you deserve.”

Jongho’s voice cracked with the final words, his emotions finally spilling over. Tears welled up in his eyes, but he didn’t try to hide them. He let them fall freely, because they were the only honest thing left in him. He had been so afraid, so terrified to show his feelings, but now, in front of you, with all his walls broken down, he had nothing left to hide.

“Jongho…” you began, your eyes welling up with tears, but before you could say anything more, his grip on your wrist faltered. His eyes darted downward, and suddenly his face was crumpling into an almost comical grimace.

“Oh, no.” he groaned, leaning back slightly. “I think my nose is starting again.”

“What? Seriously?” you exclaimed, glancing down to see a fresh trickle of red beginning to drip. “Jongho, for the love of—hold still!”

“I thought it was done!” he whined, his voice nasally as he tilted his head back again.

“Yeah, well, that’s what happens when you decide to give a Shakespearean love monologue in the middle of an injury!” you shot back, grabbing more tissues from your bag.

He laughed despite himself, the sound muffled as you pressed the tissues to his nose. “This is not how I pictured this going.”

“You don’t say.” you teased, rolling your eyes. “Next time, maybe confess your feelings after you’ve stopped bleeding everywhere.”

“Noted.” he sighed, his heart calming, his eyes crinkling at the corners despite the absurdity of it all. “Still… was it really that bad?”

You paused for a moment, your expression softening as you met his gaze. “No.” you said quietly, a small smile tugging at your lips. “It was perfect. Bloody nose and all.”

And for the first time that night, you saw the tension in his shoulders ease, replaced by something softer—something hopeful.

“You really mean all that?” You asked, looking sheepishly at him.

He swallowed hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he nodded. “Every word.“ he said, his voice thick with emotion. “I know I should’ve said it sooner. But I need you to know—”

“Stop.” you interrupted gently, your thumb brushing against his cheek where the tear tracks glistened. “Just… stop beating yourself up. You’re here now. That’s what matters.”

“You’re not mad…?” Jongho asked softly, his wide, wet eyes searching yours.

“Oh, I’m mad!” you said, though there was no real heat in your tone. “I’m mad you let him hit you. I’m mad you didn’t duck.”

He let out a weak chuckle, but his smile faltered as he studied your face. “I just didn’t want him to hurt you. I’d take a hundred punches if it meant keeping you safe.”

Your breath hitched, and for a moment, you couldn’t look away. “Jongho.” you said quietly, your voice trembling as you let your hand fall from his face, the bloody tissue being discarded to the side with the rest. “I don’t need you to take punches for me. I just need you. I need you here, safe, with me.”

His lips parted in surprise, but you pressed on, your heart pounding in your chest. “I love you, Jongho, and seeing you like this—hurt because of me—only made me realize how much.”

For a moment, he just stared at you, his eyes shimmering with tears, before a smile broke across his face. “You…“

“Yes.” you said softly, a small, teary laugh escaping. “I love you. Even with the bloody nose and all.”

He laughed, the sound filled with disbelief and relief. “Good. Because I love you too.”

“Yeah, yeah, I got that with how many times you’ve said it.” you snort, pressing the tissue back to his nose with a stupid grin on your face. “Now hold still before you bleed all over me again.”

“I think I’ll bleed again when Wooyoung punches me for disappearing like that.“

You stop moving, fear shinning in your eyes. “Oh fuck.“

[dae-chwiita]

Blood Stained Words

Pairing : Jongho x reader

Summary : Jongho hasn’t talked to you in month since you got a boyfriend, but when he see’s him getting touchy with you while you’re uncomfortable, he stops thinking and it quickly escalate, ending up on the sidewalk with you having to hold bloody tissues to his face.

Warning : insults, some arguing and fighting, really really long oops but other than that PURE FLUFF

A/N : so, this is my first long fic this might be really bad I’m so sorry y'all🙏 also my first Jongho fic?!! I’m scared this will flop because my boy seems so unpopular, i see barely any solo fic of him so i hope the three Jongho x reader enjoyer will come trough on this one😔 I’ve been spending way too much time on this so, not really proofread, sorry ‘bout that, they will be some mistake guys! hope you’ll enjoy this even if I’m scared this is BAD we’ll see ig

The club was a blur of neon lights and throbbing music, but Jongho’s mind was miles away. It wasn’t the chaos around him that consumed him—it was you. He watched as you laughed with Wooyoung and Yunho, the sound of your voice floating above the bass of the music, causing his chest to ache. There was a sadness in his heart, a quiet longing that grew stronger each time you smiled, each time you touched Mingi’s arm, each time he saw the way your attention shifted away from him.

It had been months since he had allowed his feelings for you to surface. Months of pretending, of watching from the sidelines as you moved on from him, from your friendship, as you fell for someone else and not him. And now, standing in this crowded club, he realized that pretending was no longer enough. He couldn’t stand the sight of this Beom guy pulling you closer, brushing his hand against your waist with that cocky, possessive grin. It was too much. He tried his best to focus on the conversation he was having with Wooyoung and Yunho, but his eyes didn’t seem obedient this evening.

When Beom’s hand slid down your back, the moment of contact lasting a little too long, Jongho’s blood boiled. He could see how uncomfortable you were, how you were clearly trying to shift away from him, but you didn’t have the strength to push him away. He saw your fingers twitch, your body tense as you subtly tried to remove his touch, but Beom wasn’t giving in. Jongho’s instincts flared. He couldn’t just stand here and watch this. Not when he knew how you felt—he could see it in your eyes. He didn’t know why you were avoiding your boyfriend touch -probably an argument, like you always seemed to have- by he knew that it made him lose his sanity when he saw you like that.

“Jongho?” Wooyoung’s voice snapped him out of his thoughts. He glanced over, only to see Wooyoung’s concerned expression. He followed his friend’s gaze to where you were with Beom.

“Oh no.“ Wooyoung sighed.

“Did they argue again or something?“ Yunho asked after also turning his head.

“Well…“ His voice grew serious as his eyes flickered between Jongho and you. “They kinda, broke up a few days ago and he seems drunk so…“

Jongho froze, confusion clouding his thoughts. What? Beom and you had broken up?

“Yeah, don’t get too close.“ Wooyoung whispered to Jungho firmly. “She’s still sorting everything out.“ His voice was quiet, cautious, but his eyes were filled with a mix of understanding and concern.

Jongho’s chest tightened at the news. His stomach churned with a mixture of relief and guilt. You and Beom were done, and yet here he was, stuck in his own silence, unable to make his move. The thought of you, the person he cared about more than anything, being in this position—uncomfortable, vulnerable—made him sick. He couldn’t just sit and watch you get harassed.

Without another word, he pushed past his two friends, Wooyoung calling out to him to come back while Yunho smushed him quickly. Walking toward you, his fist clenched, determined to do something about it. His heart raced in his chest as he moved through the crowd. The sight of Beom’s hand still on your waist, holding you like he had a right to, made something inside Jongho snap.

“Hey, Beom.” Jongho called out, his voice sharp and steady.

He turned, eyes narrowing at the sound of Jongho’s voice. His lips curled into a smirk when he saw who it was. “What’s up, little guy?” he asked, his tone nonchalant, but there was a slight edge to it.

“You need to let go of her.“ Jongho said, his voice quiet but firm. He stepped closer, his fists trembling at his sides. “You’re making her uncomfortable.”

Beom’s eyes flickered over to you, his expression suddenly cold. His hand dropped from your waist, but his body language didn’t change.

“What’s your problem?” he sneered, his posture challenging. “What, you think you can tell me what to do with her?”

“You don’t get to touch her like that." Jongho’s gaze hardened, his pulse quickening. "Not anymore.”

The tension between them was palpable. The music from the club blared around them, but it was as though the noise faded away. Jongho’s focus was solely on Beom, on the anger building in his chest. But Beom wasn’t backing down, he rarely did. He’s taller than Jongho and looks way more intimitading. He took a step forward, his eyes blazing.

“You think you can just waltz in here and act like you own her?” Beom spat, stepping even closer. “She’s not yours. She’s mine.”

“Beom, don’t-“ You finally said, coming out of of your shock to Jongho appearance.

Before you could finish or Jongho could respond, Beom shoved him hard in the chest, and he stumbled back, barely managing to catch himself on a nearby table full of bottles. His heart raced, but he didn’t let Beom see the effect it had on him. Some people turned their heads to the sound of the table scratching on the ground, making you look around nervously.

“You’ve always been in the way!” Beom growled, and Jongho felt his stomach twist in anger. “Always hovering around her like you’re her fucking hero. You’re the reason we broke up, you know that?!”

The words hit Jongho like a punch to the gut. His mind raced, trying to process what Beom was saying. It’s my fault? The pain in his chest deepened, and before he could gather his thoughts, Beom threw a punch that landed squarely on his nose, making you gasp in horror.

The impact was sharp. Pain exploded in Jongho’s face, and for a split second, the world spun around him. Blood poured from his nose, his vision blurring as he staggered backward.

“Jongho!” You shouted, your voice panicked, but Beom was already approaching him again. “Fuck off you dick! Before security come drag your ass out of here!“

He looked at you, surprised by your sudden anger. He scoffed, leaving Jongho standing there in shock, his nose bleeding. He stumbled, disoriented, but it was you grabbed his arm, steadying him. You quickly helped him to go outside, pushing harshly through people laughing and hollering at both of you, your hands supporting him as the adrenaline surged through his veins.

“Are you okay?” you asked, your voice laced with worry.

Your hands were gentle but firm, trying to stop the blood from continuing to flow. The way you touched him, so careful, so tender, only made his heart race faster. Jongho didn’t respond. He was too overwhelmed by the combination of pain and the realization that you were here, close to him, your trembling hands covered with blood holding his nose. For the first time in months, you were touching him again.

You hurried him outside of the club to the pavement, away from the noise and chaos, and helped him sit down on the side walk. The cold air hit his face, and his breath came in ragged gasps as he tried to compose himself. But he couldn’t stop thinking about how close you were, how your fingers had brushed his skin, how your hands had steadied him. He barely registered what you were saying as you frantically wiped his face with tissues you got from your bag, trying to stop the bleeding.

All he could do was stare at you.

His mind was a blur of emotions, of everything he had kept hidden for so long. His heart hammered in his chest as you scolded him, your voice trembling with concern.

“Jongho, what the hell were you thinking?!” you ramble, your voice thick with worry as you dab at his nose. “You shouldn’t have come talk to to him at all!”

He didn’t respond. He couldn’t. All he could do was focus on the feeling of your hands touching him. The warmth of your fingers as they carefully dabbed at his nose, the way your hands gently cupped his face as you tilted his head up to meet your eyes. His breath hitched, his heart pounding faster, and all he could do was stare at you, too afraid to speak. You continued to scold him softly, your words a blur in his ears as his eyes traced every inch of your face. The way your hair cascaded around your shoulders, the way your eyes flickered between the bloodied tissues and his face with such tenderness. He hadn’t realized how badly he’d missed this—the softness of your touch, the care in your eyes, the closeness of your presence.

I’ve missed this, Jongho thought, his pulse racing. I’ve missed you so much.

His chest tightened with every passing second, and he felt like his heart was going to burst from how much he wanted you. He didn’t know what to say, didn’t know how to explain how he felt. All he could do was watch you, trying to hold onto every moment. Your fingers brushed the back of his head, gently moving through his hair, and he swore his heart stopped. His breath hitched in his throat, and his eyes fluttered shut as he leaned into your touch, desperate for more. He couldn’t believe this was happening. After all the months of pretending, of keeping his distance, of silently suffering as you pulled away from him… You’re here. You’re touching him again.

“Jongho…” you murmured softly, your voice barely above a whisper. “Why did you do that? Why did you let Beom get to you like that?”

Jongho didn’t have the words. He couldn’t explain it. He just knew that in this moment, with your hand still gently cradling his face, he couldn’t help but feel like everything had finally come into focus.

“I didn’t want to lose you.” he confessed, his voice shaky. His heart was hammering so loudly in his chest that he wasn’t sure you could even hear him. “You seemed so uncomfortable, I didn’t even recognize you with how much your face was distorted from disgust ad anger.“

You paused, your gaze softening as you looked at him, your fingers still gently caressing the back of his neck, a quick smile appearing before you downed again. You leaned closer, your forehead almost touching his as you spoke.

“I don’t want to lose you either.” you whispered, your voice barely audible. “So stop being stupid like that.

The words hung in the air between you, heavy and meaningful, and for a long moment, neither of you spoke. All that existed was the soft sound of your breath and the feeling of your hands on his skin, grounding him in the moment. Jongho’s heart raced faster and faster, every second making him feel more desperate for you. His entire body was screaming for your touch, for your affection, for the closeness that he had missed for so long.

“I love you.” he whispered, his voice breaking, filled with emotion.

Your eyes widened, and for a moment, there was nothing but silence. But then, slowly, you smiled, your lips softening, and you kissed his forehead gently.

Jongho’s heart was racing. His confession, the words that had been trapped inside him for so long, had escaped his mouth before he could stop them. The moment the words "I love you" left his lips, he froze, wide-eyed, realizing what he had just said. His heart skipped a beat, and a heat bloomed across his chest. He cursed himself silently under his breath. His face flushed crimson as he quickly turned his head away, his heart pounding faster than ever. He reached up and wiped the blood from his nose with the back of his hand, but he was too flustered to even make sense of the situation. He hadn’t meant to say that aloud. He hadn’t even thought about how it might affect you. He didn’t want to make things more awkward than they already were. He just… he just wanted you to know how he felt.

Your hands, gentle as always, slowly dropped from his face. The tissues you had been holding, now stained with blood, fell onto the pavement as he moved away, wanting to escape the moment, escape your eyes. How desperate for you he is to blur out the L word only because your touching and talking to him after not doing it for only a few months…

"Jongho." you called out softly, concern and affection still laced in your voice. "You're still bleeding, come here."

But Jongho, in his embarrassment, couldn't bear to meet your gaze. He buried his face in his knees, hiding from you as his heart hammered in his chest. The blood continued to drip, but the only thing that mattered to him in that moment was the way you had looked at him. It was too much. He wants to disappear in the old concrete and be walked on for the rest of his life.

You sighed, clearly exasperated by his antics, but there was still a tenderness in your tone. "Jongho, you're putting blood all over your jeans."

He didn't respond. The weight of his confession and his growing panic made his mind race. What if you didn’t feel the same? What if this ruined everything between us? You were clearly ignoring what he just said. trying to ignore the subject while he was acting like a stupid teenager who just got touched by. Girl for the first time in his life. He couldn’t even bear to look up. He wanted to disappear, to erase what he had just said…Why weren’t you talking anymore? Did you leave? Or couldn’t he hear your voice anymore because of how loudly his heart was hitting in his chest? He wanted to look up, but his head was glued to his knees. The silence between you both was unbearable. It felt like time was standing still, the tension thick in the air.

The silence dragged on for what felt like an eternity, until Jongho couldn’t take it anymore. He slowly, hesitantly, lifted his head, blinking rapidly as his eyes found yours. He nearly jumped in shock when he saw you squatting in front of him, your face now right in front of his. Your eyes were focused entirely on him, intense but not unkind, and it made him freeze once again. Jongho tried to look away, his cheeks still burning as bright as the smeared blood on his face, but your hand reached out and gently grasped his chin. With a firmness that made his heart race even faster, you tilted his head back, forcing him to meet your gaze.

“Do you know why Beom said that?” you asked softly, your voice still calm but with an underlying seriousness. “Do you know why he said it was your fault that we broke up?”

Jongho's breath hitched, and he felt his heart skip a beat. He opened his mouth to respond, but his voice caught in his throat. He swallowed hard, unable to form the words. He only managed to shake his head in answer, telling you that he didn’t. You didn’t seem to be upset by his silence, instead you continued to look at him with understanding, your fingers gently tracing the line of his jaw. The way you looked at him made him feel vulnerable, like every emotion he had been hiding for so long was suddenly on display for you to see.

“You don’t know…” you said, your voice soft. “It’s because when we stopped talking, you and me… when we stopped seeing each other as much, all I did was talk about you. I talked about you all the time. About how much I missed you, about the things I wanted to say to you.”

Jongho’s heart tightened in his chest. He didn’t know what to say. He had never imagined that you would talk about him like that. His mind was swirling, trying to grasp everything you were telling him, but he couldn’t make sense of it all. He wanted to interrupt you, to tell you that he had missed you too, but your words held him captive.

“There were times when Beom got so frustrated.” you continued, your eyes darkening slightly with the memory. “He’d accuse me of being obsessed with you, of wanting to date you, and it started arguments. But I didn’t know how to stop. All I could think about was you.”

You paused for a moment, and the silence between you both deepened. Jongho’s breath caught in his throat. He could feel the weight of your confession, the rawness of the emotions you were revealing, your way of saying I love you. And even though he was still processing everything, a part of him couldn’t help but feel relieved. He wasn’t alone in his feelings. He wasn’t the only one who had been holding on to something for so long. he wasn’t the only one to be so desperate. You leaned in a little closer, your gaze steady, unwavering.

“It got to the point where I realized Beom was right.” you said, your voice a little quieter now, almost as if you were confessing something deeply personal. “I hadn’t let you go. I hadn’t stopped thinking about you, Jongho. And that’s why we broke up.”

Jongho’s eyes widened at your words, and his heart slammed against his chest for the hundredth time but sometime, with a new force. His throat was dry, and for a moment, his brain stoped working. The realization hit him like a tidal wave—You had broken up with Beom because of him- no, for him. He wasn’t sure what he had expected, but it certainly wasn’t this. Everything he had been holding back, everything he had been too scared to admit, suddenly felt too real. The ache in his heart that had been gnawing at him for so long now made sense. You had been feeling the same way. He distanced himself for you for months because o how much he needed you, how he felt too much for you, only for it to be reciprocated. How stupid and happy he feels.

“Jongho, I don’t want to pretend anymore.“ You reached out, your fingers gently brushing against his cheek as you spoke again, your voice soft but steady, bringing him back to reality. “I don’t want to hide how I feel. I don’t want to hide from you.”

He swallowed hard, his hands shaking as he lifted them to his sides. His mind raced, and the sudden realization of what was happening made everything feel surreal. You were confessing too. You were telling him what he had been dying to hear for so long, but still, he couldn’t believe it.

“I’m sorry…” he whispered, his voice low and full of emotion. “I’m so sorry for not saying anything sooner.”

You shook your head, a small smile tugging at the corner of your lips as you finally hear his voice again.

“You don’t need to apologize. We both took too long for what was right in front of us.”

For a brief moment, everything seemed to quiet down. Jongho could barely breathe, his heart pounding in his chest as he watched you, still holding his face so gently. All the doubts, the fears, the confusion—it all melted away. Finally, the truth was out there. You and Jongho, both desperate for each other, both aching for something real, something that had been buried too long. And as he looked into your eyes, he could feel the distance between you closing. It was like something in him finally clicked, and all the tension, all the pain he had carried, finally started to release.

“I love you.” Jongho whispered again, his voice trembling. “I’ve always loved you.“

Jongho’s breath hitched again, this time much more pronounced, as he struggled to form his next words. His hands were trembling, barely able to stay steady by his sides. The weight of everything he had kept inside for so long was finally pushing its way to the surface. He felt like his chest was going to collapse under the pressure of the emotions, of the longing, the desperation, the love that had been simmering beneath the surface for what felt like an eternity. He reached up, almost as if instinctually, and gripped your wrist where it rested against his cheek. His fingers were warm, shaky, desperate. His eyes were brimming with so many unsaid things, looking into yours like he was searching for some kind of reassurance. But you didn’t need to say anything. He could see it in your eyes, feel it in the way you were holding him, the way you were there, really there with him, after everything that had happened.

“I… I don’t even know where to start.“ Jongho whispered hoarsely, his voice thick with emotion. He swallowed hard, his throat dry, as if the words had been stuck in his chest for too long, refusing to come out. He whipped his nose with the back of sleeve quickly, feeling the blood drying.

“I’ve spent the past year trying to ignore this feeling… trying to hide it from you, from myself. I thought maybe it would go away, but it never did. I kept hoping, praying… that one day I’d be able to tell you everything. That I could find the courage. But the more I tried to push it down, the worse it got. And the more I saw you with Beom, the more I hated myself. I hated the way I couldn't tell you what I felt. Hated how you were slipping away from me, even though I knew it was my fault.”

His voice wavered as he spoke, and the words poured out in a broken stream, as if they had been waiting to escape for so long. His hands tightened on your wrist, his grip almost painful, but you didn’t pull away. You didn’t even flinch. You just let him say it all, let him feel everything he needed to feel.

“I’ve never stopped thinking about you. Not for a single moment. Not even when we were so far apart, when I thought you didn’t even notice me anymore.” he continued, his eyes wet with unshed tears, the rawness in his voice cutting through the quiet air between you both. “You’ve always been there in my heart, in my mind… and I didn’t know how to deal with it. I tried to act like it wasn’t affecting me, like it didn’t matter, but it does, it matters more than anything. You matter more than anything, and I can’t keep pretending like I’m okay when I’m not. When I’m broken inside because you’re not here with me. Because I was too fucking scared to admit that I need you. That I want you in a way I can't even explain."

He took a shaky breath, trying to calm himself, but it only made the ache in his chest more unbearable. The tears that had been threatening to fall were now pooling in his eyes, his heart aching with every word.

“Do you have any idea how much it hurt?” he whispered, his voice barely audible, but filled with so much longing, so much raw, unfiltered emotion. “Every time you laughed, every time you smiled… every time I heard your voice and I couldn’t be the one to make you smile like that. Every time I saw you with him, and I couldn’t hold you like he could, couldn’t tell you how much I wanted you to be happy… but I couldn’t even give you that. I couldn’t even give you the one thing that you needed from me because… just because I was too afraid. Afraid that if I told you how I felt, I’d lose you.”

His breath hitched again, a broken sound escaping his lips. “And when you started talking to me less and less as you started talking to Beom more, I thought I was losing you for good. I thought you were slipping away, and I couldn’t do anything to stop it. I just stood there, watching it happen. I just… watched you go. And I knew, deep down, it was my fault. Because I couldn’t tell you that I needed you. That I loved you. That I’ve always loved you, way longer than he did.“

The words hung heavy between you both, but Jongho wasn’t finished. He couldn’t stop. He couldn’t hold it in any longer. His body trembled with the force of his emotions, and his eyes, glassy and filled with a deep ache, locked onto yours with a desperate intensity.

“I love you." he repeated again, as if he couldn’t stop himself from saying it with how much he felt it, but this time it was more than just words. It was a confession of everything he had been too afraid to say.

"I’ve loved you for so long, and I didn’t know how to show it. But I can’t hide it anymore. I can’t pretend anymore, because it’s killing me. I don’t want to lose you. I don’t want to watch you walk away from me again. I just need you to know… that I love you, even when I didn’t have the courage to say it.”

He paused for a moment, his hands still gripping yours like a lifeline, his gaze never leaving yours. He was trembling now, his voice thick with emotion, but there was a sense of relief in his words, like he had finally let go of the weight that had been suffocating him.

"I don't know what to do without you." he continued, his voice barely above a whisper, raw and full of yearning. "I thought I could move on, I thought I could just forget you, but I couldn’t. I couldn’t ever forget you. You’re all I think about. Every damn day. I want you in my life, more than anything. I don’t care if it’s messy, I don’t care if it’s hard—I just want you, with me, in my life."

His eyes were pleading now, desperate for you to understand, to see how much he meant every single word. His entire body was tense, like a coiled spring, ready to unravel if you didn’t say something. His heart was in his throat, beating erratically, and every time you blinked, it felt like his world was crashing down.

“I know I’ve made mistakes," he said softly, his voice trembling with vulnerability. "But if you’ll let me… if you’ll just give me a chance… I swear I’ll never let you go again. I don’t care how long it takes… I’ll wait for you, I’ll fight for you, I’ll do whatever it takes to make you see that I can love you the way you deserve.”

Jongho’s voice cracked with the final words, his emotions finally spilling over. Tears welled up in his eyes, but he didn’t try to hide them. He let them fall freely, because they were the only honest thing left in him. He had been so afraid, so terrified to show his feelings, but now, in front of you, with all his walls broken down, he had nothing left to hide.

“Jongho…” you began, your eyes welling up with tears, but before you could say anything more, his grip on your wrist faltered. His eyes darted downward, and suddenly his face was crumpling into an almost comical grimace.

“Oh, no.” he groaned, leaning back slightly. “I think my nose is starting again.”

“What? Seriously?” you exclaimed, glancing down to see a fresh trickle of red beginning to drip. “Jongho, for the love of—hold still!”

“I thought it was done!” he whined, his voice nasally as he tilted his head back again.

“Yeah, well, that’s what happens when you decide to give a Shakespearean love monologue in the middle of an injury!” you shot back, grabbing more tissues from your bag.

He laughed despite himself, the sound muffled as you pressed the tissues to his nose. “This is not how I pictured this going.”

“You don’t say.” you teased, rolling your eyes. “Next time, maybe confess your feelings after you’ve stopped bleeding everywhere.”

“Noted.” he sighed, his heart calming, his eyes crinkling at the corners despite the absurdity of it all. “Still… was it really that bad?”

You paused for a moment, your expression softening as you met his gaze. “No.” you said quietly, a small smile tugging at your lips. “It was perfect. Bloody nose and all.”

And for the first time that night, you saw the tension in his shoulders ease, replaced by something softer—something hopeful.

“You really mean all that?” You asked, looking sheepishly at him.

He swallowed hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he nodded. “Every word.“ he said, his voice thick with emotion. “I know I should’ve said it sooner. But I need you to know—”

“Stop.” you interrupted gently, your thumb brushing against his cheek where the tear tracks glistened. “Just… stop beating yourself up. You’re here now. That’s what matters.”

“You’re not mad…?” Jongho asked softly, his wide, wet eyes searching yours.

“Oh, I’m mad!” you said, though there was no real heat in your tone. “I’m mad you let him hit you. I’m mad you didn’t duck.”

He let out a weak chuckle, but his smile faltered as he studied your face. “I just didn’t want him to hurt you. I’d take a hundred punches if it meant keeping you safe.”

Your breath hitched, and for a moment, you couldn’t look away. “Jongho.” you said quietly, your voice trembling as you let your hand fall from his face, the bloody tissue being discarded to the side with the rest. “I don’t need you to take punches for me. I just need you. I need you here, safe, with me.”

His lips parted in surprise, but you pressed on, your heart pounding in your chest. “I love you, Jongho, and seeing you like this—hurt because of me—only made me realize how much.”

For a moment, he just stared at you, his eyes shimmering with tears, before a smile broke across his face. “You…“

“Yes.” you said softly, a small, teary laugh escaping. “I love you. Even with the bloody nose and all.”

He laughed, the sound filled with disbelief and relief. “Good. Because I love you too.”

“Yeah, yeah, I got that with how many times you’ve said it.” you snort, pressing the tissue back to his nose with a stupid grin on your face. “Now hold still before you bleed all over me again.”

“I think I’ll bleed again when Wooyoung punches me for disappearing like that.“

You stop moving, fear shinning in your eyes. “Oh fuck.“

[dae-chwiita]

When Patience Runs Out

pairing : Hongjoong x Reader

summary : You decided to patiently wait for Hongjoong to finish his work at the studio, but your patience quickly runs thin after you see a video of him performing and decide that his work can wait.

warnings : smut but nothing graphic

The soft hum of equipment and the faint tap of Hongjoong’s fingers against his keyboard fill the studio. You sit on the couch behind him, scrolling through your phone, half-listening to the muted melodies playing in his headphones. It’s late, and you’ve been waiting patiently for him to wrap up his work so you can head home together. But the clock ticks on, and patience wears thin. Your scrolling pauses when a familiar video catches your eye—a clip of Hongjoong performing Bouncy on stage. The way his body moves, the energy he exudes, the confidence radiating from every beat—it sends a familiar heat pooling in you. You bite your lip, watching the way his smirk commands the audience. Suddenly, waiting no longer feels like an option.

Setting your phone aside, you glance at his back. He’s so focused, headphones securely in place, completely oblivious to the world behind him. You sigh, rolling your eyes. He’s always like this—passionate to a fault. But tonight, you want his attention, especially after seeing him in that cowboy outfit, making it bounce.

You walk up to him quietly, stopping just beside his chair. "Hongjoong..." you call softly, but he doesn’t flinch. His eyes are glued to the screen, his hand moving deftly across the trackpad.

"Hongjoong." you say again, louder this time. Nothing.

Frustration bubbles in your chest. Without a second thought, you step forward, pulling his chair back a little bit, straddling his lap. His body stiffens for a moment as your weight settles against him. Finally, his gaze flickers up at you in surprise. You reach out, fingers threading through his soft hair behind his head, tugging and scratching lightly. He lifts one side of his headphones, letting it rest just off his ear.

"What’s going on?" he asks, his tone distracted, one hand automatically finding its place on your hip as if it belongs there. His other hand is still on the mouse, eyes darting back to the screen.

Instead of answering, you lean in, brushing your lips against his jaw. Your hips shift slightly, teasing him with a slow, deliberate grind. He inhales sharply, his hand tightening on your waist. "Hey." he says, his voice dipping lower, more cautious. “What are you—stop that. I need to—”

You cut him off with another harsh roll of your hips, this time pressing more firmly against him. His free hand lower suddenly, gripping your thigh as if to still you, but his resolve is already cracking. "I said stop–" he murmurs, but his voice falters when you place a kiss just below his ear.

"Joong..." you whisper, your lips brushing his skin, "you’ve been working long enough."

“I just need—” He tries to refocus, his gaze flickering back to his screen, but you don’t let him concentrate back long enough. Your lips trail down to his neck, leaving a path of heat, while your hips continue their slow, torturous rhythm.

"Baby…" His tone is a warning now, but his grip on your waist betrays him. It’s not firm enough to push you away, not when his fingers are twitching to pull you closer. His head tilts back slightly without him noticing it, giving you more access to his neck, and you take full advantage, nipping softly at his skin.

"You can’t just… do this." he says weakly, his voice losing its edge as the tension in his body gives way to you. His other hand finally leaves the mouse, both now anchored on your hips, guiding your movements without even realizing it. His eyes flutter shut, his breathing growing heavier as you grind against him, the music in his headphones now completely forgotten.

"Work can wait." you whisper, tugging his hair just enough to make him groan. "Joong, please..." you moan, your voice soft yet teasing. His lips part slightly, his breathing heavier now, but you feel him gather his willpower. With a sudden surge of determination, he steadies himself and pulls back.

“Enough.” he says firmly, his hands pressing gently against your hips to push you off. You freeze, surprised by the sudden shift. He’s trying to regain control, his gaze flickering between your flushed face and the screen behind you.

But you’re not done. Leaning in closer, you press your lips against his neck, this time sucking gently, your teeth grazing his skin. His breath catches audibly, his hands faltering as his body betrays him. You hear a low groan escape him, and that’s when you feel it—the unmistakable hardness beneath you.

A victorious smirk curls on your lips as you lift yourself off him slightly. "Okay then!" you say, feigning innocence, "I’ll let you work."

You begin to pull away, but his reaction is instant. His grip tightens on your hips, and frustration flashes across his face. "No, you don’t." he growls, his tone rougher now.

With a swift motion, he pulls you back onto his lap, forcing you to sit firmly against him. His headphones are ripped off and tossed aside, clattering onto the desk. His eyes meet yours, darker than before, the intensity of his gaze sending a thrill down your spine.

"You think you can just tease me and leave?" he murmurs, his voice low and gravelly, one of his palms cupping the back of your head firmly. "Not happening."

Before you can respond, his lips crash into yours, capturing you in a kiss so heated it steals your breath. His hands are finally letting themselves do what they want—one anchoring your waist while the other tangles in your hair. The work he was so dedicated to moments ago is long forgotten, replaced entirely by the burning need you’ve ignited in him.

You pull back slightly, your breath hitching. "I thought you needed to focus?" you tease, your voice breathless as you pant.

His eyes narrow, his smirk returning. "Oh, I’m focused, baby." he says, his hands sliding lower, pulling you impossibly closer. "Just not on that anymore." he responds while nodding towards the screen before letting his fingers go down to your core, gripping at it. You cry out, already feeling your lower belly warm up.

You owe a big thank you to the person who posted that video of him performing Bouncy, or else you would still be on that couch waiting.

[dae-chwiita]

Unseen, Unspoken

Pairing : San X reader / Yunho mentioned

Summary : When you finally decide to confess your feelings to Yunho, San is the first one to hear about it. But you don't realise just how much this decision affects him...

tw : heartbroken Sannie ouch and tears, tears, tears

——————————

You burst into San's apartment unannounced, your usual grin lighting up the space like the sun had decided to shine indoors. San, sprawled lazily on the couch in sweats and a faded tee, looked up from his phone, his lips curving into a smile so genuine it made your heart warmer.

"Sannie!" you chirp, plopping down beside him. “I need to tell you something!”

His heart stuttered, like it always did when you were this close. Your scent wrapped around him, familiar and intoxicating. He sat up, tilting his head curiously, though a small knot of worry had already started forming in his chest.

"What is it?" he asks, voice soft, careful.

You take a deep breath, your eyes sparkling with excitement. "I’ve decided…I’m going to confess to Yunho."

It was like the air had been sucked out of the room. His smile faltered for just a fraction of a second—a fleeting moment he hoped you didn’t catch. His chest felt tight, like someone had reached in and twisted his heart, as if it tried to rip his it out of his chest with such violence that he almost flinched.

But San was good at this. He’d been hiding his feelings for years now, hadn’t he? A master at tucking his emotions behind teasing grins and soft, affectionate words that you never took seriously. He forced his lips back into a smile, one less warm.

"Wow," he says, his voice a little too loud, a little too bright. "That’s…that’s great! Yunho’s a lucky guy."

Your cheeks flushed and you smacked his arm playfully. "You really think so? I mean, he’s perfect, right?" You sighed dreamly but your smile quickly faltered. "But what if he doesn’t feel the same? What if I mess everything up? I'm the worst when I'm stressed..."

San felt like he was shattering into pieces, every word you said driving shards of pain deeper into him. But he couldn’t let you see that. Not when you were looking at him with so much hope in your eyes. He swallowed hard, his throat dry.

"Are you kidding?" he says, leaning in closer. "You’re amazing. Of course he’ll say yes. I mean, who wouldn’t? You’re you."

You laugh, and it’s the sweetest sound in the world, but to San, it feels like a blade sliding between his ribs. You didn’t notice the way his hand clenched into a fist on his knee or how his gaze dropped to the floor as you kept talking about Yunho, trying to not take every word about it like a punch in the face, but you kept hitting and hitting him.

——

For days after that, San avoided you. It wasn’t intentional—at least, that’s what he told himself. He just needed space, needed time to push down the feelings that were threatening to consume him. He ignored your texts, avoided your calls, even went out of his way to dodge Yunho. Seeing either of you felt like rubbing salt into an open wound.

But then, you showed up at his door again.

When he opened it and saw you standing there, your eyes red and puffy, tears streaming down your cheeks, his heart stopped. He whispered your name, stepping aside to let you in.

"What’s wrong?" He asked, tugging the long sleeves of his grey shirt over his hands, ready to use it as tissue for your tears.

You don’t answer right away. Instead, you collapse onto his couch, your shoulders shaking with sobs. San’s chest ached as he knelt in front of you, his hands hovering uncertainly. He wanted to hold you, to pull you close and protect you from whatever had hurt you, but he didn’t know if you’d let him.

"Yunho…" you finally manage to choke out, your voice trembling. "He…he rejected me."

San froze. His mind went blank, disbelief flooding through him. Yunho rejected you? How? Why? He didn’t understand—how could anyone reject you?

For a split second, relief surged through him, so overwhelming it almost made him dizzy. But then he looked at you—at the way you were falling apart right in front of him—and that relief turned into guilt. How could he feel happy when you were hurting like this?

"Hey, hey," he says softly, finally letting himself touch you. His hands rest on your shoulders, grounding you, his thumbs gently brushing against your skin. "It’s okay. I’m here."

You shake your head, fresh tears spilling down your cheeks. "No, it’s not. I was so stupid, San. I thought…I thought he might actually like me back. But he said he didn’t feel the same. He said he didn’t want to ruin our friendship."

San’s jaw clenched. He wanted to be angry at Yunho, to blame him for your pain, but he couldn’t. Because deep down, he knew Yunho wasn’t wrong. Yunho didn’t feel the same way, and he had the decency to be honest about it. San could never hate him for that.

But seeing you like this…that was unbearable.

"Princesse, hey..." he says, his voice low and steady. He moves to sit beside your laying form, pulling you up gently into his arms. You don’t resist, burying your face in his chest as he strokes your hair. "Listen to me. Yunho’s an idiot, okay? He doesn’t deserve you if he can’t see how amazing you are. But I promise you, this doesn’t mean there’s something wrong with you. You’re perfect just the way you are."

You sniffle, your hands clutching at his shirt like he’s the only thing keeping you afloat. "I just…what’s so wrong with me that he wouldn’t even give me a chance?"

San’s heart broke all over again. "Nothing," he says firmly. "Absolutely nothing. If he can’t see how incredible you are, that’s his loss. You deserve someone who sees you, who cherishes you, who would never, ever make you cry like this."

His words hang in the air, heavy with meaning. He doesn’t say it outright, but he hopes—prays—you understand. That you hear what he’s really trying to tell you. At least, how much his heart beats for you, that you can hear it over your crying.

You don’t respond right away, your sobs gradually quieting as his warmth and steady presence calm you. He holds you until your breathing evens out, until your tears have dried and your head is resting on his shoulder.

"Thank you, San," you murmur, your voice barely audible. "Thank you for being here..."

He presses his lips to the top of your head, a gesture so tender it makes his chest ache. "Always," he whispers.

And he means it.

[dae-chwiita]

Thank you so so much that's really sweet!!🙏 So glad you liked my first post, it means a lot🩷

A Little Too Late, A Little Too Drunk

Pairing : San X reader

Summary : You keep ignoring San and his drunk self can't handle it.

TW : drunk San, jealousy, kind of corny ? idk fluff fluff fluff

_________________

The room buzzed with laughter, music, and the faint clink of glasses, noises that matched your troubled emotions. The party was in full swing, yet it felt as though you were outside looking in—especially when your gaze inevitably found its way to San.

There he was, all sharp lines and soft smiles, his laughter booming over the music as he chatted with the girl you’d seen with the group before. She was beautiful, confident, and far too comfortable with him for your liking. It wasn't the first time you saw her; always hanging out with the guys recently.

You turned away quickly, heart twisting. It wasn’t as though you had any claim over him—San didn’t know about the feelings that had grown for almost a year now, feelings that had steadily grown into an ache every time he smiled at someone prettier who wasn’t you.

It was easier to ignore him, to let the sting of jealousy numb you, rather than risk exposing your vulnerability. That burning jealousy made it impossible to even look his way, you couldn't let your overflowing feelings see the light of day. If he found out, your friendship would be gone ! How could San want someone like you, when he could have someone like her ?

“Hey, come on.” Wooyoung nudged your shoulder, pulling you back to the moment. “You’ve been in your head all night. Let’s grab a drink.”

“Sure,” you murmured, looking at your empty cup, hoping the distraction would help. But even as you followed Wooyoung toward the makeshift bar, your eyes betrayed you, darting once again to San.

He was still with her, but something was off. His smile didn’t reach his eyes, and he kept glancing around, searching for… something.

---

San was restless.

He should’ve been enjoying himself—Yujin was funny, and she’d been a friend for years. But no matter how hard he tried to engage in the conversation, his mind kept drifting. Where were you?

You’d been distant all evening, barely sparing him a glance. Every attempt he made to catch your attention was met with a polite, detached smile or a quick excuse to leave.

It was driving him mad.

San’s grip tightened around his drink as Yujin’s laugh pulled him back to reality. She was saying something, her voice soft, but he didn’t register a word. All he could think about was the way you had been avoiding him.

He wanted to call out to you, but you were with Wooyoung again, laughing loudly at something he’d said. San’s chest tightened, an unfamiliar burn spreading through him.

His thoughts spiraled as Yujin leaned closer, resting a hand on his arm. “San,” she purred, her voice cutting through the haze, “you’re so distracted. Is it me, or is there something else on your mind?”

Before he could respond, you passed by, your laughter with Wooyoung ringing clear. San froze, his gaze snapping to you. Without thinking, he stepped forward.

“Hey, wait—”

Wooyoung turned, flashing him a grin. “What’s up, San?”

San barely glanced at him, his blurry eyes locked on you. “Can I talk to—”

“She’s busy,” Wooyoung cut in, his tone light but firm. He threw you a quick glance, silently asking if you wanted to stay.

You didn’t.

“I’ll catch you later,” you muttered, brushing past San without meeting his eyes.

“Wait.”

His hand shot out, wrapping around your wrist before you could escape. Your pulse leaped beneath his touch, but you still refused to look at him, quickly glancing at Yujin and her pouting, holding San's arm.

“What’s going on?” San asked, his voice a mixture of frustration and desperation. “Why are you avoiding me?”

The question hung heavy in the air, but before you could answer, Yujin’s voice rang out. “San! You aren't even listening to me...”

You stiffened, the sound slicing through whatever resolve you’d had left.

“Let go,” you said, your voice cold as you tugged your arm free. “Go back to her.”

You didn’t look back as you walked away, but Wooyoung did. He hesitated, torn between following you and staying behind to let San step in.

“Wooyoung, don’t—”

San’s voice cracked, and when Wooyoung turned back, he saw something raw in his friend’s expression.

“Let me go after her, please.”

---

You were outside before you realized it, the cool night air biting at your skin. Wrapping your arms around yourself, you tried to push down the wave of anger and hurt that threatened to overwhelm you. She was touching his arm again, holding it like it was her's. Like he was her's.

Why did it have to hurt this much?

“Wait!”

San’s voice shattered your thoughts, and you turned just in time to see him stumble toward you, his steps unsteady.

“Go back inside, San,” you said sharply.

“No.” His voice was firm despite the slur in his words. “Not until you tell me what’s going on.”

You scoffed, turning away. “You’re drunk. This isn’t the time.”

“I don’t care.”

Suddenly, he was in front of you, his hands gripping your shoulders as he forced you to face him. His eyes, glassy with alcohol, bore into yours.

“Why are you ignoring me?” he demanded. “What did I do?”

“You didn’t do anything!” you snapped, the words spilling out before you could stop them. “That’s the problem, San. You didn’t do anything, and you don’t even see...”

“See what?”

You hesitated, the weight of your feelings pressing down on you, looking down.

“It doesn’t matter,” you said finally, trying to pull away. “Just let it go.”

“No.” His grip tightened, his voice breaking. “It matters to me. You matter to me.” He took a deep breathing, tilting his head. “Can you at least look at me...please.”

Your heart lurched as you looked up, but you forced yourself to stay firm. “You don’t get it, San. You’re always with her, laughing and smiling like she’s the only person in the world. And I—”

Your voice cracked, and you looked away.

“And you what?” he whispered, his tone softening.

“And I can’t stand it,” you admitted, the words barely audible.

For a moment, there was only silence. Then San let out a shaky laugh, his hands sliding down to your wrists.

“You’re jealous,” he said, his voice tinged with disbelief. “You think I care about Yujin like that?”

“Don’t you?”

“No!” The force of his answer startled you, and you looked up to find him staring at you with an intensity that stole your breath.

“It’s you,” he said hoarsely, his hands shaking while holding your wrists. “It’s always been you.”

Your mind reeled, the confession sinking in.

“But—”

“No buts,” he cut in, his voice trembling. “I’ve been losing my mind all night because you wouldn’t even look at me. You have no idea how much I—”

He broke off, his gaze flickering to your lips before meeting your eyes again. “I’m in love with you.”

The words hung between you, heavy and unshakable.

“‘You… what?’” you repeated, staring at him like he’d just sprouted a second head.

“I said,” San slurred, his voice louder now, “I’m in love with you. And I’ve been losing my mind all night because you’ve been ignoring me! It’s driving me CRAZY!”

You blinked at him, taken aback by the outburst. “San, you’re drunk—”

“Drunk, yes,” he interrupted, holding up a finger. “But I’m also telling the truth! Do you have any idea how many times I tried to talk to you tonight?!”

��San—”

“Seven!” he exclaimed, as he held up what looked like five fingers, his other hand still busy holding you. “Seven times! And every single time, you just… just walked away like I didn’t exist!”

Despite yourself, you snorted. “I didn’t walk away seven times.”

“Yes, you did!” He leaned closer, his expression equal parts pitiful and desperate. “And it hurt. It hurt.”

“Oh, come on—”

“No, I’m serious!” He pointed at his chest, his finger poking himself a little harder than intended. “Right here. It hurt right here. Every time you ignored me, I thought, ‘Wow. I must’ve done something terrible. Maybe I insulted her by accident?’ But no, you just hate me now for no reason!”

“I don’t hate you,” you muttered, fidgeting with your fingers.

“You sure?” His tone was suspicious, but there was an undeniable softness in his eyes as he stared at you. “Because it really felt like you hated me. Especially when you were laughing with Wooyoung. Do you like him more than me now? Is that what this is about? Is he funnier than me? More handsome? Does he have better hair?”

“San!” you interrupted, laughing despite yourself. “What are you even talking about?”

“I don’t know!” he admitted dramatically, throwing his hands in the air, finally letting go of your arm. “I’ve been spiraling all night, okay? I mean, you’re over there, looking gorgeous, and I’m stuck with Yujin... again.” He sighs dramatically. “Do you know how many times she’s tried to touch my arm tonight? Ten!”

“Ten times?” you asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Yes!” he exclaimed, his tone heavy with indignation. “It’s like she thinks I’m some kind of… of armrest or something. And the whole time, all I wanted to do was talk to you. But nooooo, you’re busy ignoring me, laughing with Wooyoung, and looking way too good for my sanity!”

You bit back a smile, your irritation melting as you watched him rant. His cheeks were flushed, his words a little too loud, but there was a raw honesty in his drunken rambling that made your heart ache.

“San,” you said softly, cutting him off before he could spiral further.

“What?” he asked, his wide, pleading eyes meeting yours.

“I wasn’t ignoring you because I hate you. Or because of Wooyoung.”

“Then why?” His voice cracked slightly, and you could see the desperation in every inch of him.

You hesitated, but the way he was looking at you—with so much vulnerability—made it impossible to hold back.

“Because I was jealous, okay?” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. “Seeing you with her all night… it made me feel like I didn’t matter to you. Like I couldn’t compare.”

San stared at you for a moment, his mouth opening and closing as if he couldn’t quite process your words.

Then, with absolutely zero grace, he blurted out, “That’s the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard.”

“Excuse me?” you said, your eyes narrowing.

“You’re jealous of Yujin?!” he exclaimed, looking genuinely baffled. “She’s not even my type!”

“Oh, really? And what is your type?” you asked, crossing your arms.

He blinked at you, as if the answer was the most obvious thing in the world. “You!”

Your mouth fell open, but before you could respond, he kept going, his words tumbling out in a drunken rush.

“You’re my type, okay? You’re the type. The only type. Like, if someone said, ‘Hey, San, describe your dream person!’ I’d just say your name and that would be it! So the fact that you think I care about Yujin when you’re literally right here is just… just—ugh! It’s stupid!”

You stared at him, stunned into silence.

“See?!” he said, throwing his hands up again. “Now you’re ignoring me again! I've even told you the L word and you keep ignoring me!”

“I’m not ignoring you!” you said, trying not to laugh, feeling your cheeks about to burst in flammes.

“You kind of are...” he muttered, pouting slightly.

“San.”

“What?”

“Shut up.”

Before he could say another word, you grabbed his face and kissed him, cutting off whatever nonsense he was about to say next.

For a moment, he froze, his brain clearly struggling to catch up. Then he melted into the kiss, his shaking hands finding their way to your waist as he pulled you closer.

When you finally pulled away, his eyes were wide, and his lips were parted in surprise.

“Does that clear things up?” you asked, raising an eyebrow.

He nodded slowly, a goofy grin spreading across his face. “Yeah. Yeah, I think it does.”

“Good.” You started to turn away, embarrassed by what you've just done, but he grabbed your hand, stopping you.

“Wait. Just to be clear, are you my girlfriend now? Or do I have to ask officially tomorrow when I’m sober?”

You rolled your eyes, but you couldn’t hide your smile. “We’ll see how you handle your hangover first.”

“Deal,” he said, grinning like he’d just won the lottery.

[dae-chwiita]

A Little Too Late, A Little Too Drunk

Pairing : San X reader

Summary : You keep ignoring San and his drunk self can't handle it.

TW : drunk San, jealousy, kind of corny ? idk fluff fluff fluff

_________________

The room buzzed with laughter, music, and the faint clink of glasses, noises that matched your troubled emotions. The party was in full swing, yet it felt as though you were outside looking in—especially when your gaze inevitably found its way to San.

There he was, all sharp lines and soft smiles, his laughter booming over the music as he chatted with the girl you’d seen with the group before. She was beautiful, confident, and far too comfortable with him for your liking. It wasn't the first time you saw her; always hanging out with the guys recently.

You turned away quickly, heart twisting. It wasn’t as though you had any claim over him—San didn’t know about the feelings that had grown for almost a year now, feelings that had steadily grown into an ache every time he smiled at someone prettier who wasn’t you.

It was easier to ignore him, to let the sting of jealousy numb you, rather than risk exposing your vulnerability. That burning jealousy made it impossible to even look his way, you couldn't let your overflowing feelings see the light of day. If he found out, your friendship would be gone ! How could San want someone like you, when he could have someone like her ?

“Hey, come on.” Wooyoung nudged your shoulder, pulling you back to the moment. “You’ve been in your head all night. Let’s grab a drink.”

“Sure,” you murmured, looking at your empty cup, hoping the distraction would help. But even as you followed Wooyoung toward the makeshift bar, your eyes betrayed you, darting once again to San.

He was still with her, but something was off. His smile didn’t reach his eyes, and he kept glancing around, searching for… something.

---

San was restless.

He should’ve been enjoying himself—Yujin was funny, and she’d been a friend for years. But no matter how hard he tried to engage in the conversation, his mind kept drifting. Where were you?

You’d been distant all evening, barely sparing him a glance. Every attempt he made to catch your attention was met with a polite, detached smile or a quick excuse to leave.

It was driving him mad.

San’s grip tightened around his drink as Yujin’s laugh pulled him back to reality. She was saying something, her voice soft, but he didn’t register a word. All he could think about was the way you had been avoiding him.

He wanted to call out to you, but you were with Wooyoung again, laughing loudly at something he’d said. San’s chest tightened, an unfamiliar burn spreading through him.

His thoughts spiraled as Yujin leaned closer, resting a hand on his arm. “San,” she purred, her voice cutting through the haze, “you’re so distracted. Is it me, or is there something else on your mind?”

Before he could respond, you passed by, your laughter with Wooyoung ringing clear. San froze, his gaze snapping to you. Without thinking, he stepped forward.

“Hey, wait—”

Wooyoung turned, flashing him a grin. “What’s up, San?”

San barely glanced at him, his blurry eyes locked on you. “Can I talk to—”

“She’s busy,” Wooyoung cut in, his tone light but firm. He threw you a quick glance, silently asking if you wanted to stay.

You didn’t.

“I’ll catch you later,” you muttered, brushing past San without meeting his eyes.

“Wait.”

His hand shot out, wrapping around your wrist before you could escape. Your pulse leaped beneath his touch, but you still refused to look at him, quickly glancing at Yujin and her pouting, holding San's arm.

“What’s going on?” San asked, his voice a mixture of frustration and desperation. “Why are you avoiding me?”

The question hung heavy in the air, but before you could answer, Yujin’s voice rang out. “San! You aren't even listening to me...”

You stiffened, the sound slicing through whatever resolve you’d had left.

“Let go,” you said, your voice cold as you tugged your arm free. “Go back to her.”

You didn’t look back as you walked away, but Wooyoung did. He hesitated, torn between following you and staying behind to let San step in.

“Wooyoung, don’t—”

San’s voice cracked, and when Wooyoung turned back, he saw something raw in his friend’s expression.

“Let me go after her, please.”

---

You were outside before you realized it, the cool night air biting at your skin. Wrapping your arms around yourself, you tried to push down the wave of anger and hurt that threatened to overwhelm you. She was touching his arm again, holding it like it was her's. Like he was her's.

Why did it have to hurt this much?

“Wait!”

San’s voice shattered your thoughts, and you turned just in time to see him stumble toward you, his steps unsteady.

“Go back inside, San,” you said sharply.

“No.” His voice was firm despite the slur in his words. “Not until you tell me what’s going on.”

You scoffed, turning away. “You’re drunk. This isn’t the time.”

“I don’t care.”

Suddenly, he was in front of you, his hands gripping your shoulders as he forced you to face him. His eyes, glassy with alcohol, bore into yours.

“Why are you ignoring me?” he demanded. “What did I do?”

“You didn’t do anything!” you snapped, the words spilling out before you could stop them. “That’s the problem, San. You didn’t do anything, and you don’t even see...”

“See what?”

You hesitated, the weight of your feelings pressing down on you, looking down.

“It doesn’t matter,” you said finally, trying to pull away. “Just let it go.”

“No.” His grip tightened, his voice breaking. “It matters to me. You matter to me.” He took a deep breathing, tilting his head. “Can you at least look at me...please.”

Your heart lurched as you looked up, but you forced yourself to stay firm. “You don’t get it, San. You’re always with her, laughing and smiling like she’s the only person in the world. And I—”

Your voice cracked, and you looked away.

“And you what?” he whispered, his tone softening.

“And I can’t stand it,” you admitted, the words barely audible.

For a moment, there was only silence. Then San let out a shaky laugh, his hands sliding down to your wrists.

“You’re jealous,” he said, his voice tinged with disbelief. “You think I care about Yujin like that?”

“Don’t you?”

“No!” The force of his answer startled you, and you looked up to find him staring at you with an intensity that stole your breath.

“It’s you,” he said hoarsely, his hands shaking while holding your wrists. “It’s always been you.”

Your mind reeled, the confession sinking in.

“But—”

“No buts,” he cut in, his voice trembling. “I’ve been losing my mind all night because you wouldn’t even look at me. You have no idea how much I—”

He broke off, his gaze flickering to your lips before meeting your eyes again. “I’m in love with you.”

The words hung between you, heavy and unshakable.

“‘You… what?’” you repeated, staring at him like he’d just sprouted a second head.

“I said,” San slurred, his voice louder now, “I’m in love with you. And I’ve been losing my mind all night because you’ve been ignoring me! It’s driving me CRAZY!”

You blinked at him, taken aback by the outburst. “San, you’re drunk—”

“Drunk, yes,” he interrupted, holding up a finger. “But I’m also telling the truth! Do you have any idea how many times I tried to talk to you tonight?!”

“San—”

“Seven!” he exclaimed, as he held up what looked like five fingers, his other hand still busy holding you. “Seven times! And every single time, you just… just walked away like I didn’t exist!”

Despite yourself, you snorted. “I didn’t walk away seven times.”

“Yes, you did!” He leaned closer, his expression equal parts pitiful and desperate. “And it hurt. It hurt.”

“Oh, come on—”

“No, I’m serious!” He pointed at his chest, his finger poking himself a little harder than intended. “Right here. It hurt right here. Every time you ignored me, I thought, ‘Wow. I must’ve done something terrible. Maybe I insulted her by accident?’ But no, you just hate me now for no reason!”

“I don’t hate you,” you muttered, fidgeting with your fingers.

“You sure?” His tone was suspicious, but there was an undeniable softness in his eyes as he stared at you. “Because it really felt like you hated me. Especially when you were laughing with Wooyoung. Do you like him more than me now? Is that what this is about? Is he funnier than me? More handsome? Does he have better hair?”

“San!” you interrupted, laughing despite yourself. “What are you even talking about?”

“I don’t know!” he admitted dramatically, throwing his hands in the air, finally letting go of your arm. “I’ve been spiraling all night, okay? I mean, you’re over there, looking gorgeous, and I’m stuck with Yujin... again.” He sighs dramatically. “Do you know how many times she’s tried to touch my arm tonight? Ten!”

“Ten times?” you asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Yes!” he exclaimed, his tone heavy with indignation. “It’s like she thinks I’m some kind of… of armrest or something. And the whole time, all I wanted to do was talk to you. But nooooo, you’re busy ignoring me, laughing with Wooyoung, and looking way too good for my sanity!”

You bit back a smile, your irritation melting as you watched him rant. His cheeks were flushed, his words a little too loud, but there was a raw honesty in his drunken rambling that made your heart ache.

“San,” you said softly, cutting him off before he could spiral further.

“What?” he asked, his wide, pleading eyes meeting yours.

“I wasn’t ignoring you because I hate you. Or because of Wooyoung.”

“Then why?” His voice cracked slightly, and you could see the desperation in every inch of him.

You hesitated, but the way he was looking at you—with so much vulnerability—made it impossible to hold back.

“Because I was jealous, okay?” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. “Seeing you with her all night… it made me feel like I didn’t matter to you. Like I couldn’t compare.”

San stared at you for a moment, his mouth opening and closing as if he couldn’t quite process your words.

Then, with absolutely zero grace, he blurted out, “That’s the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard.”

“Excuse me?” you said, your eyes narrowing.

“You’re jealous of Yujin?!” he exclaimed, looking genuinely baffled. “She’s not even my type!”

“Oh, really? And what is your type?” you asked, crossing your arms.

He blinked at you, as if the answer was the most obvious thing in the world. “You!”

Your mouth fell open, but before you could respond, he kept going, his words tumbling out in a drunken rush.

“You’re my type, okay? You’re the type. The only type. Like, if someone said, ‘Hey, San, describe your dream person!’ I’d just say your name and that would be it! So the fact that you think I care about Yujin when you’re literally right here is just… just—ugh! It’s stupid!”

You stared at him, stunned into silence.

“See?!” he said, throwing his hands up again. “Now you’re ignoring me again! I've even told you the L word and you keep ignoring me!”

“I’m not ignoring you!” you said, trying not to laugh, feeling your cheeks about to burst in flammes.

“You kind of are...” he muttered, pouting slightly.

“San.”

“What?”

“Shut up.”

Before he could say another word, you grabbed his face and kissed him, cutting off whatever nonsense he was about to say next.

For a moment, he froze, his brain clearly struggling to catch up. Then he melted into the kiss, his shaking hands finding their way to your waist as he pulled you closer.

When you finally pulled away, his eyes were wide, and his lips were parted in surprise.

“Does that clear things up?” you asked, raising an eyebrow.

He nodded slowly, a goofy grin spreading across his face. “Yeah. Yeah, I think it does.”

“Good.” You started to turn away, embarrassed by what you've just done, but he grabbed your hand, stopping you.

“Wait. Just to be clear, are you my girlfriend now? Or do I have to ask officially tomorrow when I’m sober?”

You rolled your eyes, but you couldn’t hide your smile. “We’ll see how you handle your hangover first.”

“Deal,” he said, grinning like he’d just won the lottery.