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Hiiii! Could u maybe write for skz being in a secret relationship (like secret from the public cause reader ain’t an idol) and getting caught by paparazzi during a date? U can just make 3racha pls if u don’t feel like doing all 8 ! Feel free to refuse too ofc! I loved your Spotify wrapped hcs btw! Seungmin’s was so funny! 😆

I made them reaction bullet points! But if you guys like them then I'm totally up to making them into longer fics!!

Stray Kids | Secret Relationship → Getting Caught by Paparazzi

Bangchan

Chan is so careful usually.

Dates are always super lowkey - private cafes, quiet beaches at night, movie nights at home.

But today was your birthday, and he wanted to do something special.

He rented out a tiny rooftop restaurant just for the two of you, candles, flowers, the whole thing.

Everything was going fine...until you both laughed too hard at a joke and he leaned across the table to kiss you.

Flash.

Click click click.

Both of you froze mid-kiss like-

🧍‍♂️🧍‍♀️...

Chan immediately tensed and went into protective mode, grabbing your hand and pulling you away from the ledge.

He spends the rest of the night furious at himself, feeling like he failed to protect you.

“It’s my fault. I should’ve been more careful, baby, I’m so sorry…”

You have to literally cup his cheeks and remind him that you knew the risks from the start, and you still chose him.

Later when the photos surface, they’re actually really sweet and respectful - the caption is like: “Bang Chan spotted in sweet rooftop date - fans speculate he’s in a relationship.”

His company releases a statement saying they won’t comment on private matters, and surprisingly, most people are supportive.

In the end, the incident kinda soft-launches your relationship 💛.

Lee Know

Lee Know thinks he's a secret agent.

Always plans escape routes. Dresses down. Times everything.

“Trust no one. Speak to no one. Blend into the crowd.”

But you went out for bubble tea one afternoon, and he just couldn’t resist teasing you.

He poked your straw when you weren’t looking, got your drink all over your shirt, and then tried to "help" wipe it off.

You were laughing and swatting at him, and he kissed your forehead without thinking.

Flash.

😐😐😐

Minho freezes.

“Did you see that?”

“...Yes.”

“Abort mission. Run.”

Grabs your hand and books it through side streets like a literal action movie.

Later, when the photos go viral, they’re weirdly cute - you’re laughing, he’s looking at you with soft eyes, and fans are melting.

He doesn’t say anything publicly, but a few days later, he posts a dance video wearing a shirt that says “Not Sorry.” 😎

Changbin

Changbin is PARANOID about getting caught.

He wears hats, masks, sometimes even sunglasses at night.

He’ll make you walk separately in public and only link up when it’s super empty.

But today, he was feeling bold.

You were walking by the river, and he just couldn’t help it - he grabbed your hand.

You warned him. He didn’t listen. He was too busy smiling at you like an idiot in love.

Then:

Click click click click.

Changbin drops your hand and looks around like a scared puppy.

“Was that what I think it was-”

“Yes.”

“@$#%&.”

He immediately pulls you into a side street, calling his manager with one hand while trying to shield you with the other.

“I think we have a problem.”

Despite his panic, you kinda find it cute how protective he gets, constantly glancing over his shoulder to make sure you’re okay.

The photos blow up fast - he’s recognizable even under the hat and mask because of his build.

Surprisingly, the fans argue that he deserves to be happy and start trending “#HappyForChangbin.” 🥹

He won’t relax until you both sit down and personally go over every nasty comment and good comment together, promising to only listen to the good ones.

“They don’t know our love, jagiya. Only we know. That’s enough.” 💌

Hyunjin

You were museum-hopping for your date - very chill, very lowkey.

Hyunjin wore glasses and a mask, blending in as just another artsy boy admiring sculptures.

You thought you were in the clear.

Then you reached to point at a painting at the same time and your hands touched.

Hyunjin looked at you, smiled all dreamy, and brushed your hair behind your ear like a damn movie scene.

THAT’S when the paparazzo got you.

Flash.

Hyunjin didn’t even flinch, he just kind of...blinked and kept smiling.

“Let’s keep going. Pretend nothing happened.”

(Internally he was PANICKING.)

Later he has a minor meltdown about it, pacing and chewing on his sleeve.

“WHAT IF THEY FIND YOU? WHAT IF THEY HARASS YOU? I SHOULD’VE BEEN MORE CAREFUL!”

You calm him down with forehead kisses and pinky promises.

The photo goes viral because it’s just so beautiful - you two look like characters out of a romance drama.

Fans nicknamed you “Hyunjin’s Mona Lisa.” 🎨🖌️

Han Jisung

Jisung is...not careful. Like at all. 😭

Like, he tries - really he does - but his excitement always gives him away.

You two went on a simple late-night drive, windows down, singing along to whatever’s on the radio.

You driving of course since the chubby cheeked boy still had yet to get his license.

You pulled over to a convenience store to grab snacks,

When he came back with a pile of candy and two hot coffees, he opened the drivers door and buckled you in as if you were sitting in the passenger seat.

After making sure you were secured he shut the door, and leaned into the car window and kissed you.

Like full-on swoon-worthy type of thing.

…Right in front of a paparazzo who was tailing idols that night.

FLASH.

You both screamed. Like actually screamed.

Jisung dropped everything he was holding, candy and coffee flying into the air. ☕🍬

“RUN!” he shrieked, diving into the passenger seat as you two sped off like a maniacs while you gasped laughing in the drivers seat.

Later, he’s freaking out. But tries to cover it up with joking.

“Do you think they got my good side?” (You smack his arm.)

The photos come out with the caption "Mystery lover? Han spotted on late night date!"

The company tries to spin it as “just hanging out with a friend,” but nobody buys it because of the kiss photo LOL.

In the end, you two have to lay low for a while, but honestly, Jisung just jokes about it constantly.

“If I’m gonna get caught, at least it was a kiss that looked straight out of a K-drama, am I right?” 💋

Felix

Honestly?

Felix would straight up take you on a nature walk for your dates.

Forests, hidden parks, lakes - anywhere with sunshine and minimal people.

You were sitting by a lake one afternoon, feeding ducks, and he kissed your cheek.

A photographer hiding in the bushes (like a weirdo) got the shot.

(Felix: 🫠)

(You: 🫠)

He immediately covers your face with his hands in the CUTEST protective way.

“Stay still, baby, don’t look, it’s okay, I’ve got you.”

Back at home, he hugs you and promises it’ll be okay no matter what happens.

“If they hate me, it’s fine. If they hate you, it’s war.”

The fandom goes wild, but mostly in support because...well...it’s Felix...

Even people who don’t stan Stray Kids are like, “If Felix found love we’re all cheering for him.” 😭

Seungmin

Seungmin is sneaky with dates.

Like, coffee shop hidden inside a bookstore levels of sneaky.

But today, you convinced him to just do something normal - ice cream at a park.

You were eating together on a bench, Seungmin roasting you for dropping your scoop.

“Are you five years old?”

“You’re gonna be single if you keep talking.”

He laughed, leaned in, and kissed your sticky nose.

You heard a camera shutter.

Both of you paused.

Seungmin squinted at the photographer like 🧐.

“You dropped your scoop and got us caught. Great job, genius.”

(He’s teasing. But he’s freaking out inside.)

Later when the pictures come out, Seungmin’s fans are laughing because he looks so deadpan in every photo.

Someone even memes it:

Caption: "When you drop your ice cream... and the fact you're in a relationship, too." 🍦😅🍦😂

I.N

Jeongin is careful because he’s still the “baby” to a lot of fans.

But he really wanted to take you to the little zoo near the city.

He wore a hat so low it almost covered his eyes, mask up to his nose, hoodie two sizes too big.

Adorable.

He was so focused on making sure you were comfortable he didn’t even realize a paparazzo had been tailing you guys.

The moment that got caught?

You feeding him a french fry outside a food stall.

Jeongin holding your hand to guide the fry into his mouth.

Giggles and hearts in your eyes.

The flash that the paparrazzo had forgoten to shut off startled you two.

Jeongin dropped the fries in horror.

You were more worried about the wasting of the fries more than anything else.

Panic.exe.

Later he’s apologizing over and over, voice so soft and guilty:

“It’s okay if you wanna break up with me...I get it…” 😔

(You bonk him on the head, lovingly of course.)

Turns out the fans think it’s the cutest thing ever.

“Our maknae is growing up 😭💖.”

Jeongin turns bright pink every time someone mentions it for the next month.

You say he owes you a large fry.

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@abovenyx @wolfs-archive @oddracha @iyeeeverydee @parisanmorovati @seungmincenteric @panbish-1209 @fxiry-vtt @sseawavee @shuporanporang @amarecerasus @softkisshyunjin @whoa-jo @meanergreener @rikibun @ayyonoona @shinywombatcrusade @y4yayael @skzstan12345 @mariteez @allys-reads @jazziwritesthings @skzstannie @yongbokkiesworld @kkkeopi @neverendingstay @moony-9 @minsungsthirdwheel @everlastingspring143 @joyofbebbanburg @leezanetheofficial @tr-mha-fan @bubbly-moon @night-storm7 @missmajdastark @axel-skz @rockstarkkami @emilyywhyy

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FELIX 😭💕

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I AM IN LOVE WITH THIS. IN LOVE.

Somebody That I Used to Know | lfx

Ten years ago, they were everything to each other — laughter in tiny apartments, promises whispered against cracked windows, a love so fierce it felt invincible. But time has a way of eroding even the strongest foundations, and when Felix and Y/N cross paths at a wedding they never thought they'd attend alone, all that's left are the fragments of a life they couldn't hold onto.

One night. One dance. One final collision of past and present.

In the spaces between the music and the chatter, they must face the truth they've tried so hard to forget: Some love stories don’t end with heartbreak. They end with strangers standing in the ruins of what they once believed was forever.

Warnings: (WC: 10K+/-) , idol!au , exes2strangers , hurt/no comfort, ANGST, past breakup, fights, gaslighting, hurtful words, forced-ish proximity, yelling, kissing, hints of explicit content, happy ending?? , based off the song “somebody i used to know” by Gotye ft. Kimbra, lmk if i missed anything!

Playlist

The ballroom was beautiful in a way Felix barely registered — all chandeliers and soft, golden light, expensive flowers spilling out of crystal vases. It was the kind of night meant for fairytales. The kind of night that felt like it belonged to other people.

He adjusted the cuffs of his suit jacket, offering polite smiles, familiar nods. The music swirled — slow, dreamy — filling the empty spaces between conversations. Somewhere across the room, someone laughed too loudly. Champagne glasses clinked. Felix barely heard any of it.

Because he saw her.

A flash of movement near the edge of the crowd — not loud or showy, but bright. Like the faint glimmer of a star you almost missed if you weren't looking hard enough.

And he would have missed her. He almost wished he had.

Y/N.

The name hit him like a sucker punch to the gut, knocking the breath from his lungs. She was standing by the bar, delicate fingers wrapped around a champagne flute, head tilted slightly as she listened to someone speak. Still and radiant, in the way she always was — a kind of quiet warmth that pulled you in without trying.

But different, too.

Smaller, somehow. More careful. Like she had built walls around herself that he didn't remember being there before.

Felix couldn't look away. It had been nearly a decade. Ten years of world tours, sold-out arenas, flashing cameras. Ten years of telling himself he’d moved on — that she had been part of another life, another Felix.

And yet here he was, standing frozen in the middle of a wedding reception, heart hammering like he was twenty again, like nothing had changed. Except everything had.

She caught him staring. Just for a second — a flicker of her gaze meeting his across the room. Her smile faltered, then disappeared altogether. And when she looked away, it felt like being shut out of a home he no longer had a key to.

Felix swallowed hard and turned back to his drink, the crystal glass cool and solid against his fingertips. But he could still feel it — the invisible thread stretched tight between them, fraying under the weight of all the things they would never say.

She was a stranger now. And maybe he was, too.

He shouldn’t have come. He knew it the second he stepped inside the ballroom — the second the music wrapped around him like smoke and the champagne sparkled too sharply under the chandeliers.

Weddings were supposed to be about beginnings. Fresh starts. New promises.

Not graves you thought you buried long ago.

The whiskey burned on the way down, but it wasn’t as bitter as the taste in his mouth when he saw her — when he saw the ghost wearing Y/N’s face.

She stood at the far end of the room, her silhouette blurred by the glittering crowd. Her dress — simple, elegant — caught the light every time she moved, a flicker of color against the soft gold haze. It was wrong, how beautiful she still was. How much she still looked like a home he hadn’t lived in for years.

His fingers tightened around the glass, cold against his palm. He hated how easily the memories slid into his veins, thick and suffocating.

Once, she used to smile at him like he was the only thing in the world worth looking at. Once, her laughter used to curl into his ears like a song he couldn't forget. Once, they had been reckless and bright, stumbling toward the future hand-in-hand, convinced nothing could touch them.

Now she didn’t even flinch when she caught him staring.

Their eyes met — just briefly — across the golden air. Y/N’s mouth twitched, not quite a smile, not quite anything at all. And then she looked away, her attention folding effortlessly into the conversation at her side, like Felix was just another stranger lost in the crowd.

He laughed under his breath, the sound sharp enough to cut. He set the empty glass down harder than he meant to, ignoring the startled glance from the bartender.

They weren’t supposed to be strangers. They'd promised that once, hadn't they?

"We’ll still be friends. Always."

She’d said it with tears shining in her lashes. He'd believed her — like a fool.

But when the dust settled, when the shouting was done and the doors had slammed shut between them, she had been the one who disappeared. Not him. She had vanished like smoke, leaving only a hollow ache where her promises used to live.

Maybe he deserved it. Maybe he had been too proud, too deaf to the cracks widening right under his feet. Maybe he had been so sure he was right that he never noticed how lonely she sounded when she said, "I'm fine." How tired her voice had gotten when he brushed her worries aside.

Still. She had cut him out like a tumor. No words. No explanation. Just silence.

And now here she was — laughing softly with their old friends, living a life where he didn't exist, while he stood here nursing old wounds and whiskey that wasn’t strong enough to drown them.

Felix’s hands twitched at his sides, aching with the memory of touching her — the curve of her waist, the silk of her hair, the way she used to fit against him like something inevitable.

It felt almost funny, in a way. That a person could know you better than anyone else — your dreams, your fears, the way you liked your coffee in the morning — and still choose to forget you.

He wasn't the boy she loved anymore. Maybe he never had been.

Maybe she had just fallen in love with the idea of him — and when the cracks showed, when the arguments started, when the loneliness bled through — she realized he was just another thing she could leave behind.

The band shifted into a slower song — a lazy, aching waltz — and Felix swore the ground tilted slightly under his feet. He reached for another drink without thinking, the need for something solid, something burning, clawing up his throat.

He told himself he didn’t care. Told himself he didn’t need her. Told himself she was just somebody he used to know.

But the lie tasted worse than the whiskey.

He was doing fine — or at least pretending he was — until he saw her.

Not Y/N. Not directly. No — it was the other one.

The friend.

The same girl who had come to his apartment all those years ago, polite and awkward and clutching an empty box, standing in the doorway like a grim reaper in denim. "I’m just here to grab Y/N’s stuff," she’d said. "She thought it would be easier this way."

Easier. For her, maybe.

He still remembered the way he'd stood there — hollowed out, furious — watching her pack away Y/N’s sweaters, her framed photos, the little ceramic cup she used to leave her earrings in at night. And when he tried to call — tried to demand an explanation, a conversation, anything — he got nothing but a cold, mechanical voice telling him the number was no longer in service.

Like she’d erased him with the click of a button.

And now that same friend was smiling at him across a circle of familiar faces, a glass of wine in her hand, her laughter spilling out easy and warm. As if she hadn't helped bury him.

Felix swallowed hard and forced his mouth into a polite curve, nodding as someone clapped him on the shoulder, pulling him into the group.

“Felix! Man, it’s been years,” one of the guys said — Mark, maybe? They had all blended together after a while.

“Yeah,” he rasped, voice rougher than he intended. He cleared his throat, tried again. “Long time.”

Y/N was there too, hovering just a little behind her friends. Smaller than he remembered. She wore her brightness like armor now, not a second skin — offering smiles that didn’t quite reach her eyes.

God, he hated how beautiful she still was. Hated how some dumb, traitorous part of him still wanted to reach out, just to see if she was real.

“Did you just get back from tour?” someone asked, shoving a drink into his hand.

“Couple weeks ago,” Felix said. He could hear himself speaking — casual, easy — but it felt like watching someone else operate his mouth.

“That’s wild, man. We’ve been following your stuff. Big time stars, huh?” Mark laughed, nudging him playfully.

Felix chuckled on autopilot, eyes flicking once — just once — to Y/N.

She wasn’t looking at him. She was looking down, fiddling with the charm bracelet around her wrist, her fingers trembling so slightly he thought he might be imagining it.

He almost missed the way her friend — the one who had packed up Y/N’s life and carried it away from him — caught Y/N’s eye and gave a tiny, knowing smile.

Felix’s stomach twisted.

The conversation swirled on around him, a river he wasn’t part of. He heard someone mention old memories — the apartment they used to cram into after nights out, all mismatched furniture and takeout containers. He heard Y/N laugh — soft and awkward — like the memories were heavy too.

He could’ve said something. Could’ve joked about the terrible couch they used to fight over, the cracked window that let in the winter wind.

But the words rotted in his throat.

Because all he could think about was that empty apartment — cold and stripped bare — and the click of the phone line going dead in his ear.

And maybe he didn’t need that stuff. Maybe he didn’t need her number. Maybe he didn’t need anything at all.

But standing here now, surrounded by laughter and music and a woman he used to love like breathing, Felix wasn’t sure he believed his own lies anymore.

Flashback~

The apartment was a mess — pizza boxes on the coffee table, socks thrown over the back of the couch, a half-finished laundry basket slumped near the kitchen door.

It should’ve felt chaotic. It should’ve stressed him out.

But all Felix could feel was a slow, aching kind of happiness curling into his ribs, as he leaned back against the arm of the couch and watched her.

Y/N sat cross-legged in the middle of the carpet, wrapped in one of his old hoodies — three sizes too big, the sleeves swallowed her hands. She was trying to fold laundry, and failing spectacularly, distracted by whatever sitcom was blaring from the TV. Her hair was a messy halo around her face, and every time she laughed — really laughed, head thrown back, nose scrunching the way it always did — it was like a fist closed gently around his heart.

God, he loved her. So much it scared him sometimes. So much he didn’t know where he ended and she began.

"You’re terrible at this," he teased, voice low and rough from sleep. He didn’t even remember when he sat down. It was just natural — gravitating toward her like gravity had chosen sides.

Y/N looked up at him, mock-offended, a crumpled sweatshirt dangling from her hand. "I’m multitasking," she argued, cheeks pink with laughter. "You wouldn’t understand."

Felix snorted, stretching out his legs so his toes bumped her knee. "You’re watching reruns and making the laundry worse. That’s not multitasking. That’s sabotage."

"Semantics," she said breezily, tossing the sweatshirt over his face.

He laughed — a real one, deep in his chest — and pulled it off, throwing it back at her with no real aim. The fabric missed by a mile, but Y/N still shrieked dramatically, falling back against the carpet like she’d been shot.

It was stupid. It was nothing. Just another Thursday night in a long string of nights that felt like breathing.

But something about the moment — the softness, the warmth, the way she looked at him like he was hers and always would be — anchored itself deep inside his memory.

Felix pushed up onto his elbows, watching her lying there, arms sprawled, hoodie riding up to show a sliver of skin. The light from the TV painted her in shifting blues and golds.

He didn't think. He never had to, with her.

He crawled toward her, dropping down beside her, propping his chin on her stomach. Her fingers automatically threaded through his hair, scratching lightly at his scalp.

For a while, they just stayed like that — breathing each other in, the lazy hum of the television filling the silence. And then, out of nowhere, her voice broke the hush,

"I feel so happy," Y/N murmured, almost like a secret. "I could die happily tonight."

Felix froze for a heartbeat, his breath catching in his chest.

He tilted his head up to look at her — really look — at the soft curve of her smile, the sleepy glow in her eyes. And something inside him, something ancient and terrified, clawed at his ribs.

He didn’t want her to die happy. He wanted her to live. With him. Forever.

He pushed himself up, kissing her forehead, her nose, her mouth — quick, clumsy kisses, trying to say what he didn't know how to say out loud.

"I'm never gonna lose you, yeah?" he whispered against her skin.

Y/N laughed — that sweet, breathless laugh — and tugged him down on top of her like gravity couldn't stand the distance between them.

"You couldn't if you tried," she said, sure and soft and certain.

Felix closed his eyes, pressed his ear against her heart, let the steady beat drown out the fear. If he could have bottled that moment, he would have. If he could have lived inside it forever, he would have burned every stage and stadium to the ground for the chance.

But time was a thief. And love was a liar.

And years later, standing across a crowded room, Felix would realize the brutal truth.

He had lost her after all. Without even trying.

It happened like all terrible things did — by accident.

One minute, Felix was standing near the bar, trying to forget the way her laughter curled like smoke through the crowded room. The next, he turned — and there she was.

Y/N froze mid-step, almost bumping into him, the tiny gasp escaping her lips before she could swallow it down. Up close, she smelled like something achingly familiar — vanilla and wildflowers, maybe, or just the ghost of another life he wasn’t allowed to touch anymore.

For a second, neither of them spoke. The moment stretched — awkward and brittle — until politeness snapped it in half.

"Hey," she said softly, the word so small he almost didn’t catch it over the hum of the party behind them.

Felix stared at her — at the way she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, at the nervous shift of her weight from foot to foot — and hated how every inch of her still felt like home. A home he wasn’t welcome in anymore.

"Hey," he said back, voice rougher than he intended.

Another silence. This one heavier.

Y/N’s fingers toyed with the bracelet at her wrist — the same one she'd worn the night she first said she loved him, a million years ago. Felix's stomach twisted.

"You look good," she offered, her smile too tight, too careful.

"Yeah," he said, forcing a shrug. "So do you."

It was a lie. She didn’t look good. She looked fucking radiant — and it hurt worse than if she’d looked miserable.

Y/N cleared her throat, glancing past him, as if searching for an escape route. He almost let her go. Almost.

But something ugly and raw twisted in his chest, and before he could stop himself, he said:

"Didn't think you'd show."

Her eyes snapped back to him — wide, startled. Then shuttered.

"Yeah, well," she said lightly, too lightly. "Hard to say no to people who think we’re still... friends."

Friends. The word tasted like blood in his mouth.

"Right," Felix muttered, bitterness curling sharp against his tongue. "Friends."

Like she hadn’t sent someone else to pack up her life and disappear. Like she hadn’t changed her number and left him screaming into empty space.

Y/N shifted again, hugging her arms loosely around herself. It made her look small. Breakable.

The old part of him — the part that hadn’t learned better — wanted to reach out. Wanted to tuck her hair behind her ear, to pull her into his chest, to hear her heartbeat and pretend none of it ever happened.

But he stayed frozen.

"You look happy," he said instead, the words slipping out like poison. It wasn’t a compliment. It was an accusation.

Y/N flinched — just barely — but he caught it. She opened her mouth. Closed it. When she finally spoke, her voice was too soft to cut through the pounding in his ears.

"I am," she lied.

And maybe she was.

Maybe she really could laugh at parties and fold into new arms and smile across rooms at other men. Maybe she really could move on without dragging her heart behind her like an anchor.

Felix wanted to believe her. God, he wanted to.

But somewhere deep in her eyes — somewhere behind the careful smiles and practiced laughter — he thought he saw it: The same hollow ache he carried like a second skin.

Maybe they both had gotten really good at pretending.

Y/N's gaze darted over his shoulder, catching sight of someone waving her over. She took a half-step back, her hands wringing together.

"I should—" "Yeah," he said quickly, too quickly. "Of course."

She hesitated, like she might say something else. Something real.

But in the end, she just gave him a brittle smile — all edges and goodbye — and slipped away into the crowd, swallowed up by music and strangers and a life he no longer belonged to.

Felix stood there for a long moment, staring at the empty space she left behind. The whiskey burned hotter in his throat this time.

She was just somebody that he used to know.

He kept telling himself that.

One day, maybe it would even be true.

Flashback~

The window in the living room had been cracked for months.

A spiderweb of fractures stretched across the glass, catching the light in strange, crooked patterns. In the mornings, sunlight filtered through it like broken promises. At night, the winter wind hissed through the splintered seal, cold and sharp as a blade.

Felix barely noticed it anymore. It was just part of the background — like the scuffed hardwood floors, or the dishes that never quite made it into the sink.

But Y/N noticed.

She sat curled into the corner of the couch, wrapped in one of the patchwork blankets they always fought over, her knees drawn up to her chest. The TV hummed quietly in the background — some movie neither of them were really watching.

Felix was scrolling through his phone, thumb flicking mindlessly over the screen, answering messages, half-listening.

"I hate that window," Y/N said suddenly, voice small, cutting through the low drone of the TV.

Felix glanced up, distracted. "It's not that bad," he said easily, shrugging. "Adds character."

Y/N pulled the blanket tighter around herself. Her fingers toyed with the frayed edges of the fabric, twisting it into nervous knots.

"It's freezing," she said. "I'm right here," he said back, smiling lazily. "Come closer if you're cold."

It was supposed to be playful. It was supposed to make her smile.

But Y/N didn't move. She just stared at the window, the lines of the fracture casting strange shadows across her face.

"It's not just the window," she whispered.

Felix frowned, setting his phone down. "Then what?"

She hesitated — the kind of hesitation that meant she was standing on the edge of something dangerous, something true.

"I just... I feel like sometimes I'm talking and you're not really hearing me," she said, each word careful, measured. "Like I'm cold, and you tell me to come closer instead of...fixing the damn window."

There was no accusation in her voice. No anger. Just a quiet kind of ache that made Felix's chest tighten.

He sat up straighter, suddenly defensive without knowing why. "It’s just a window, babe," he said, forcing a laugh. "You’re overthinking it."

Y/N blinked — slow, wounded — like he'd reached out and slapped her.

"I'm not," she said, so softly it was almost swallowed by the hum of the TV. "I'm telling you I'm cold. I'm telling you I need something. And you’re acting like it’s nothing."

Felix exhaled sharply, running a hand through his hair. He didn’t want to fight. Not tonight. Not when everything was finally quiet and warm and normal.

He leaned back against the couch, throwing one arm over the cushions like he was physically brushing the conversation away.

"You’re just tired," he said, with a smile that didn't reach his eyes. "You always get like this when you're tired."

It was the wrong thing to say. He knew it the second it left his mouth.

Y/N’s face shuttered closed, the softness draining out of her posture like someone had flipped a switch. She nodded once — quick and brittle — and pulled the blanket tighter around herself, like armor.

The crack in the window caught the light again, splitting the world into crooked, broken lines.

Felix didn’t say anything else. Neither did she.

They sat there in silence, the cold wind leaking in around them, filling the space between their bodies.

And somewhere deep inside, something small and vital broke. Neither of them noticed it at the time — Not really. Not until it was too late.

The music shifted — a lazy, familiar hum swelling from the speakers.

Felix barely registered it at first, still reeling from the memory clawing at the back of his mind — the cracked window, the words he hadn't listened to, the girl he thought he'd never lose.

It wasn't until the first chords of a slow song rolled through the air that he looked up.

Around him, the crowd began to stir — couples laughing softly, grabbing hands, pulling each other toward the dance floor. The lighting dimmed to a hazy, golden glow. Somewhere near the front, the bride and groom were already swaying, faces tucked into each other's shoulders, lost in a world of their own.

Felix swallowed hard, the familiar burn flaring in his chest.

He caught a glimpse of Y/N standing near one of the long tables, her fingers curled nervously around the stem of her wine glass. She was watching the dance floor — not moving, not smiling — just watching.

And for one unbearable second, her eyes found his.

It was like the whole room fell away.

Just the two of them. Just the endless, aching space between who they were and who they had become.

Felix's heart stuttered — a stupid, traitorous thing — and for a breathless, shattering moment, he almost moved. Almost crossed the floor. Almost held out his hand.

Almost asked her to dance.

They could pretend, couldn't they? For one song? Three minutes of borrowed time. Three minutes to remember how it used to be — before the cracks, before the silence, before the goodbye that gutted them both.

His fingers twitched at his side.

Y/N’s mouth opened — just a little — like she might say something. Like she might say yes.

But then her gaze dropped, and she took a step back. Blending into the safety of the crowd. Disappearing all over again.

Felix stayed frozen in place, the phantom weight of her hand heavy in his empty palm.

The slow song bloomed around him — sweet and low, a love story written for people who hadn't ruined everything.

He stood there and listened. Let it wash over him. Let it ache.

Because some things — some people — weren't meant to be danced back into your life.

Flashback ~

The rain came down in sheets that night, slamming against the cracked window like a desperate heartbeat. Outside, the city blurred into smudges of gold and red, but inside — inside the tiny apartment — it was warm. It was them.

Y/N was straddling him on the couch, her jeans damp from the sprint across the street, her sweater clinging to her arms. She was laughing — wild and breathless — her head thrown back, the sound like music only he got to hear.

"You’re soaked," Felix grinned, brushing a wet strand of hair off her forehead.

She gave him a mischievous look, leaning in just enough to drip cold rainwater onto his shirt.

"You're whining," she said, voice low and teasing. "I thought you were tough."

Felix let out a low, incredulous laugh, hands finding her hips.

"You think you can take me?" he challenged, tugging her a little closer.

Y/N smirked — that wicked, beautiful smirk that had ruined him from the start.

"In my sleep," she said, grinning wider when he tilted his head back and laughed like she’d just punched the air out of his lungs.

God, he was so fucking gone for her.

Still laughing, he dragged his hands up her sides, feeling the shiver ripple through her.

"You’re freezing," he murmured, the smile falling into something softer, something aching.

"Then warm me up, tough guy," she whispered back, threading her fingers through his damp hair.

He kissed her then — slow at first, the kind of kiss you lose yourself inside of. The kind that says you’re it. You’re the whole damn world.

The storm raged outside, but in here, there was only heat — only the press of her body against his, the taste of rain on her lips, the way her hands trembled slightly when she dragged his shirt over his head.

She pulled back just enough to look at him, eyes wide, almost reverent.

"You know," she whispered, tracing the constellation of freckles across his shoulder with the tips of her fingers, "I used to think I'd never find this. Someone like you."

Felix caught her hand, pressing a kiss to the center of her palm.

"You didn’t," he said quietly. "You found me."

Y/N smiled — soft, real — and leaned down to kiss him again, harder this time, needier.

Clothes came off in clumsy, laughing bursts — hands fumbling with buttons, mouths chasing skin, her teeth catching his bottom lip until he groaned against her mouth.

He lifted her easily, carrying her through the tiny apartment, bumping into the wall and making her squeal against his neck.

"Smooth," she teased, gasping when he tossed her onto the bed like she weighed nothing.

"I’m trying to be romantic, woman," Felix said, laughing as he crawled over her.

"You’re succeeding," she whispered, pulling him down into another kiss that stole the breath from his lungs.

He lost himself in her — the slide of skin against skin, the way she clutched at him like she was scared he'd disappear, the soft, desperate sounds she made when he touched her like he already knew every part of her by heart.

It wasn’t rushed. It wasn’t careful. It was frantic and endless and right.

It was home.

When it was over, they lay tangled together under the worn blanket, sweat cooling on their skin, the rain still drumming against the window like it was trying to find a way in.

Y/N was curled against his chest, fingers tracing lazy, endless patterns along his ribs.

"Tell me something," she murmured against his skin.

Felix smiled, running his hand up and down her spine.

"Anything," he said.

"If the world ended tonight," she said, voice slow and thick with sleep, "would you be happy?"

He tightened his arms around her, kissed her hair.

"It’s not ending," he said. "Not tonight. Not ever."

She hummed — a soft, content sound — and tilted her head up to kiss his jaw.

"I’m glad it’s you," she whispered, and he thought maybe his heart would split wide open from the weight of it.

He didn’t say anything back — just held her tighter, like maybe if he pressed hard enough, he could anchor her here forever.

Outside, the cracked window rattled against the storm. But inside, in this small, broken apartment — in this single, perfect moment — they were invincible.

And somewhere, deep in the future neither of them could see yet, the memory carved itself into his bones — waiting to haunt him on the night he needed it most.

The cold hit him like a slap the second he stepped outside.

Felix shoved his hands into the pockets of his suit jacket, shoulders curling against the chill. The stars were smeared across the sky, blurred by city lights, almost unrecognizable. The low thump of music vibrated against the glass doors behind him, muted and distant, like a life he wasn’t part of anymore.

He exhaled slowly, breath fogging in front of him. Tried to find some kind of anchor.

But all he found was her.

Not the woman inside the wedding — not the polite stranger who smiled at him like he was a guest at someone else’s funeral.

No. The girl who used to fight for them.

The girl he drove away.

The memory slammed into him so hard it almost knocked him off his feet.

The apartment was cold again — colder than it had any right to be. The cracked window rattled in its frame, letting the winter gnaw at the edges of the room.

Felix barely noticed. He was pacing, phone pressed to his ear, barking into it — some manager, some schedule change, some emergency he had to fix.

Y/N sat on the couch, knees drawn to her chest, a blanket draped over her lap. Waiting. Always waiting.

He hung up with a sharp sigh, tossing the phone onto the kitchen counter with a loud clatter.

“Sorry," he muttered, running a hand through his hair. "Shit’s crazy right now."

Y/N didn't say anything.

He didn’t notice. Not at first.

"I mean, it’s good, right?" he continued, pacing again. "All the meetings, the momentum — if I don’t stay on top of it, it’s all gonna slip away."

Silence.

He turned — finally — to look at her.

She was staring at him, her hands fisted tight in the blanket, her mouth a thin, trembling line.

"You weren’t at dinner," she said quietly. "Again."

Felix frowned. "I told you, I had a call—"

"It was my birthday."

The words hit like ice water down his spine.

He opened his mouth. Closed it.

Fuck.

"I texted you," he said lamely.

Y/N let out a brittle laugh — a sound he’d never heard from her before. It was a laugh made of broken glass.

"You texted me, Happy birthday, babe, while you were on a plane to God-knows-where."

She stood then — not fast, not loud — just stood, the blanket sliding off her lap to pool on the floor.

"I made dinner," she said, voice shaking. "I waited. I told everyone else I wanted a quiet night because I thought you'd show up."

"Y/N, come on—" he tried.

"No," she snapped — and there was real fire in it, real hurt, blistering and raw. "No, Felix. You don’t get to do this. You don’t get to make me feel like I'm crazy for wanting you to be here."

He stepped forward, reaching for her hand, but she pulled away like he burned her.

"You keep telling me it's just busy now. It's just temporary. But it's not, is it?" Her voice cracked. "It's always going to be like this."

Felix’s chest felt too tight, like there wasn’t enough air in the room.

"I’m doing this for us," he said, grasping at straws. "You know that. You knew what this would be—"

"I didn’t know it would feel like being alone even when you’re standing right next to me," she whispered.

The cracked window rattled again — a harsh, hollow sound.

Neither of them spoke.

The fight hung there between them, ugly and real, splintering outward like the fractures in the glass.

It wasn't the kind of fight you made up from with kisses and promises. It was the kind you carried around afterward, heavy and sharp, cutting you open from the inside.

They never really recovered from it. Not after that night.

They just kept bleeding slower.

Felix scrubbed a hand over his face, blinking up at the cold, uncaring stars.

He hadn’t listened. Not then. Not when it mattered.

And now, the cracks had become a chasm — wide and final and impossible to cross.

Inside, the music swelled into another slow song. The wedding spun on, glittering and golden.

And Felix stayed outside, swallowing memories like poison.

Some things you couldn't dance back into place. Some things you shattered too badly to ever hold again.

Felix finally dragged himself back inside after what felt like an eternity of freezing under the stars.

The warmth of the ballroom hit him hard — laughter, music, the clink of glass against glass — but none of it felt real. It buzzed in his ears, a life that didn't belong to him anymore.

He skirted the edges of the room, weaving through clusters of tipsy guests, trying to stay invisible. Trying to avoid the one person he couldn't seem to stop looking for.

Y/N.

He spotted her near one of the high tables, talking with the bride — her head tilted slightly, that soft, automatic smile stretched across her lips. It wasn't the smile he remembered. It was the kind you wore like a shield.

He should’ve turned around. Should’ve found the bar, drowned himself in whiskey, made polite excuses and slipped out before the night chewed him up any more than it already had.

But fate — cruel, thoughtless fate — had other plans.

The bride, radiant and tipsy and utterly oblivious, caught sight of him over Y/N’s shoulder and lit up like a firework.

"Felix!" she called out, waving him over, bright and insistent. "You’re still here! Come say hi!"

Y/N’s body stiffened — a barely-there flinch — but the bride didn’t notice. Or maybe she did and didn’t understand what it meant.

Felix hesitated, heart hammering against his ribs. He could pretend not to hear. He could pretend someone else needed him. He could run.

But Y/N was already turning, already plastering that brittle smile across her face, already bracing for impact.

So he walked over.

The bride clapped her hands together, delighted, completely unaware of the tension curling the air around them.

"God, it’s been forever, huh?" she gushed, looking between them with a fond, tipsy smile. "You two! You were inseparable back in the day."

Y/N laughed softly — a sound that was just slightly too sharp around the edges. "Yeah," she said, voice light. "Long time ago."

Felix forced a grin, feeling like his skin didn’t fit right. "Another lifetime," he agreed, the words sticking to his teeth.

The bride laughed, completely missing the way Y/N’s fingers tightened around the stem of her glass.

"You know," she said brightly, eyes sparkling, "I always thought you guys were gonna end up together. Seriously! You were so—" She made a vague hand gesture. "—perfect. Like, sickeningly adorable."

Felix felt the ground tilt under him.

He risked a glance at Y/N. She was looking at the bride, smiling politely, but her knuckles were white against the glass.

"I mean, obviously you’re still friends," the bride added quickly, sensing the shift, trying to backpedal with a giggle. "And that’s even better, right? Like, not many people can say that."

There was a beat of silence.

Y/N opened her mouth — then closed it.

Felix swallowed hard.

"Yeah," he said roughly. "Still friends."

The lie tasted worse than any whiskey he’d ever drowned himself in.

The bride beamed, satisfied, before spotting someone else across the room and bouncing away with a swirl of tulle and perfume.

Leaving them standing there. Alone. Again.

Y/N let out a soft, shaky breath and set her glass down with more force than necessary.

For a moment, neither of them spoke.

And then, without looking at him, she said:

"I’m sorry."

Felix blinked.

"For what?" he asked, voice quieter than he meant.

Y/N shook her head, her hair falling like a curtain between them. "For... all of it. For whatever this is now."

Her words hit harder than any screaming match could have. Because they were soft. Because they were tired.

Because she meant it.

Felix opened his mouth — a thousand things rising up — the fights, the loneliness, the crack in the window, the birthday dinner that never happened, the endless ache of losing her piece by piece.

But the music shifted again — Another slow song. Another cruel reminder.

Someone bumped into Y/N from behind, laughing drunkenly, and instinctively, Felix reached out — steadying her with a hand on her elbow.

For a moment, she leaned into it — into him — like muscle memory. And then she pulled away.

Like she remembered. Like she always remembered.

Felix let his hand fall.

Across the room, couples were already gathering, slipping into each other's arms, the world narrowing to soft lights and softer promises.

Felix and Y/N stood still in the middle of it all — the broken pieces that didn’t fit anymore.

The bride’s voice floated over the speakers, cheerful and oblivious:

"Everyone grab someone special and join the dance floor!"

Felix didn’t move.

Neither did Y/N.

Because once, she had been his someone special. And now, she was just somebody that he used to be special.

Flashback~

The cracked window was screaming again.

It rattled violently in its frame, the winter wind howling through the apartment like a warning neither of them heard.

Felix wasn’t sure who started shouting first.

Maybe it was him. Maybe it was her. Maybe it was both of them, bleeding at the seams for so long that all it took was one wrong word, one last mistake, to make it all explode.

"You don't fucking listen to me!" Y/N screamed, her voice cracking around the edges, raw and furious. "You never listen, Felix!"

"I work my ass off for us!" he shouted back, stepping toward her, hands shaking. "You think I like missing dinners? You think I choose this?"

"You do!" she sobbed, pointing at him like she could stab him with the truth. "You always choose everything else over me! Over us! And then you act like I'm the crazy one for wanting more!"

Felix felt like he was underwater, ears ringing, heart pounding so hard it made him dizzy. "I gave you everything!" he roared, the words ripping out of him. "My time, my fucking soul! I broke myself in half for you!"

"I never asked you to!" Y/N screamed, tears spilling freely now, streaking her cheeks. "I just wanted you! I just wanted you! Not your money, not your schedule, not the fucking scraps you threw me when it was convenient!"

"You knew what this was!" he snarled, voice low and shaking. "You knew it wasn't going to be easy!"

"I didn't know it was going to feel like loving a ghost," she whispered — and it was worse than the shouting. It was worse than anything.

Felix staggered back like she’d physically hit him.

"You make me feel like I'm nothing," Y/N continued, voice hollow, broken open. "Like I'm not worth showing up for. Like I'm just another thing you can put off until it’s too late."

He wanted to argue. He wanted to scream that he loved her more than anything, more than the stupid career he was chasing, more than himself.

But what came out was ugly and poisonous and cruel.

"Maybe you were never enough for me either."

The silence that followed was devastating. Complete.

Y/N blinked at him — once, twice — like she couldn’t even process the words he'd just thrown at her. Her hands dropped limply to her sides.

The cracked window shrieked again, and somewhere inside Felix’s chest, something tore in two.

Her breathing hitched — the sound low and broken — and for a moment, she just stood there, staring at him like she was memorizing a stranger.

Then she reached for her coat.

Slow. Mechanical. Like she wasn't fully inside her body anymore.

Felix stepped forward without thinking, voice raw. "Y/N— wait—"

But she shook her head — a tiny, sharp, heartbreaking movement — and opened the door.

The winter howled inside, scattering loose papers and cold air between them.

She didn’t slam it. She didn’t yell. She just stepped into the hallway and pulled it shut behind her.

Gone.

The door latched with a soft, final click that sounded louder than any slam.

And then — through the silence — he heard her.

Crying.

Sobbing in the hallway.

Her body pressed against the other side of the door, muffled and helpless and hurting.

Felix stood there, fists clenched so tight his knuckles went white, frozen in the ruins of the life they'd built together.

He should go after her. He should open the door. He should pull her back inside and fall to his knees and beg her to stay.

But he stayed still.

Because maybe some part of him — the scared, broken, proud part — knew it was already too late.

The cracked window rattled again — one last protest — before it gave up with a high, keening whine.

And shattered.

Glass rained across the floor like glittering pieces of their future.

Felix barely flinched.

He moved like a man underwater, slowly sinking, as he dropped onto the couch — the one where she used to curl against him, whispering dreams into the dark.

The cold seeped in through the broken window, the jagged emptiness of the room swallowing him whole.

Later, her best friend would come to collect her things. He wouldn’t fight it. Wouldn’t say a word. Just stood there, arms crossed over his chest, watching his world get boxed up and carried away.

And after that — nothing.

Only silence.

Only the echo of her footsteps retreating down the hallway, the sound of her sobbing burned into his memory worse than anything she ever said.

She was gone.

The ballroom lights dimmed to a soft, golden haze, like the whole world had been dipped in honey and grief.

The slow song playing wasn’t familiar — not one of their songs — but it didn’t matter. The melody wrapped around the room like a slow tide, pulling couples together, blurring faces into soft shapes and blurred smiles.

Felix stood near the bar, nursing a drink he hadn’t touched in half an hour, feeling the world move on without him. Feeling her move on without him.

He should’ve left already. But he stayed.

The crowd shifted, and suddenly — there she was.

Y/N.

Standing a few feet away. Alone. Looking at him with a small, almost shy smile that didn’t reach her eyes.

For a moment, Felix couldn’t move. Could barely breathe.

And then — quiet, almost apologetic — she stepped closer.

"One dance?" she asked, voice soft, fragile.

He nodded.

Because what else could he do? Because even now, even after everything, he couldn’t say no to her.

She stepped into his space carefully, like approaching something wounded. He held out his hand, and she took it — barely touching.

They moved onto the edge of the dance floor, orbiting the laughter and love that didn’t belong to them anymore.

Felix placed his hand lightly on her waist. She rested her other hand on his shoulder.

They started moving.

A clumsy sway at first — too much space between them, too many ghosts. But eventually, the rhythm found them.

For a long, aching moment, neither spoke.

Just the music. Just the memories pressed into every breath between them.

Then Y/N whispered, so softly he almost missed it:

"I thought we’d have more time."

Felix’s chest tightened painfully.

"Me too," he said, voice low and rough.

She smiled — broken, beautiful.

"I hated you, for a while," she admitted, still swaying with him, her cheek almost brushing his.

He closed his eyes.

"I hated me too," he whispered back.

Their hands tightened slightly where they touched — a small, involuntary ache.

"I didn’t want it to end like that," Y/N said, her voice cracking.

"I know," Felix rasped.

He pulled back enough to look at her — really look. The girl he had once memorized by heart. The girl he lost by a thousand small mistakes.

"I wasn’t enough," he said, the truth heavy and ugly between them.

Y/N shook her head slowly, tears shining in her lashes.

"It wasn’t about enough," she said. "It was about timing. About growing. About... us breaking where we thought we were strongest."

Felix swallowed hard.

"I loved you," he said, voice shattering. "I still—"

She pressed a hand gently to his chest, silencing him.

"I know," she said, a tear slipping free. "I loved you too."

They didn’t need to say it out loud: But love wasn’t enough.

Not for them. Not anymore.

The final notes of the song bloomed softly into the room.

The end was coming — in music, in time, in memory.

"I’m glad it was you," Y/N said, voice so tender it almost undid him completely. "Even if it ended. I’m still glad it was you."

Felix blinked hard against the sting behind his eyes. He wanted to say it back. Wanted to say everything.

But he just nodded, swallowing the words like broken glass.

The music faded into silence.

They stopped moving. Still holding onto each other like it was the last thing they’d ever be allowed.

And then — gently, painfully — she pulled away.

Their hands slipped apart.

Y/N gave him one last, trembling smile — so full of love and sadness it carved a hollow in his chest.

And without another word, she turned — and disappeared into the crowd.

Felix didn’t follow.

He stayed where he was, letting the world move on without him.

The ghost of her touch lingered on his skin. The ghost of what they were hung heavy in the air.

And he knew,

She wasn’t his anymore. She hadn’t been for a long time.

The cold air bit at Y/N’s cheeks as she stepped out of the venue.

The night was deep now — dark and soft and humming with distant city sounds. She wrapped her arms around herself, feeling the cool sting of the evening settle into her bones.

It should have hurt more.

Seeing him again. Touching him. Dancing with him.

But it didn’t. Not the way she feared it would.

It wasn’t sharp anymore. It wasn’t raw.

It was just... sad. Soft around the edges. A memory she could hold without bleeding.

She pulled her coat tighter around her and stepped toward the curb, heels clicking softly on the pavement.

A car pulled up almost immediately — headlights flashing once.

And when the door opened, a small voice chirped from inside,

"Mama!"

Y/N smiled — real and wide and aching in a whole new way — as her daughter scrambled out of the car, a whirlwind of tiny arms and winter jacket.

She bent down, scooping the little girl into her arms, breathing in the warm, sugary scent of her hair.

"Hey, bug," she whispered, pressing a kiss to her forehead.

Behind the wheel, her husband , Yunho climbed out, smiling at them both — that easy, steady smile that had been her safe harbor for years now. He crossed over to her, brushing a stray curl from her face, pressing a hand gently to her back.

"You okay?" he asked quietly.

Y/N nodded, throat thick.

"Yeah," she said, her voice steady. "I am."

And she meant it.

She shifted their daughter in her arms and leaned against him, letting herself be held for a moment longer than necessary.

Across the parking lot, hidden behind a cluster of cars, Felix stood watching.

He hadn’t meant to. Hadn’t meant to stay after the dance. Hadn’t meant to see the life she had built without him.

But there he was.

Watching the woman he used to love — the woman he thought he would spend forever with — hold a child who would never know his name. Smile at a man who wasn’t him. Walk away into a future that didn’t even have a ghost of him left in it.

Felix stayed hidden in the shadows, hands shoved deep into his pockets, heart aching in a slow, dull thud.

He didn’t move. Didn’t call out.

He just watched her walk away one final time — hand in hand with the family that was hers now.

And when she disappeared into the night, the sound of her laughter — soft, distant, different — floated back to him on the cold wind.

Felix closed his eyes.

She wasn’t his anymore. She hadn’t been for a long time.

Now she was just somebody that he used to know.

[fefispider]

have you heard Seungmin covering Stitches by Shawn Mendes???

[fefispider]

Hyunjin it is then!!!

heyyyy everynyan!!! I thought about this 'wedding going wrong' plot and I want y'all to choose a member pleaseee <3

[fefispider]

heyyyy everynyan!!! I thought about this 'wedding going wrong' plot and I want y'all to choose a member pleaseee <3

[fefispider]

this is beautiful

(Happy ?) Anniversary

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Pairing: Idol!Felix x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Angst, cursing, Felix says “fuck” like 7 times

Summary: Your busy boyfriend tends to forget important dates due to his schedule—but this time, it was the last straw for you.

A/N: Uhhh, very unrelated to the fic, but I want the fic requesters to know that I’m working on literally every fic you cuties requested. Please be patient—I hope you guys don’t have to wait too long. I’m doing my best hehe xx Ily all!

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She had prepared the flowers hours ago. White roses, trimmed with trembling hands, arranged carefully in the vase he once said reminded him of his mother’s home. Everything had to look perfect. She fluffed the pillows on the couch twice. Then again. The candles on the table flickered gently, casting soft golden shadows across the walls — warm and delicate, like the evening she had imagined so many times.

She adjusted the straps of her silk dress once more and she’d worn her hair the way he liked, like she hadn’t tried too hard, though she had. God, she had.

From the kitchen came the scent of the food she had made. The stew simmered low, the rice was fluffy and warm, and the side dish was plated like she had watched in that cooking video over and over again. It was all ready. She just needed him.

She picked up her phone again, screen lighting up with her own reflection, expectant and bright.

Y/N: The food is almost done. I can’t wait to see you tonight.

She smiled to herself. There was a nervous flutter in her chest. Two years. They had made it through so much.

She sat down on the edge of the sofa, her hands folded neatly on her lap. Her eyes flicked to the door every few minutes. Then to the clock. Then to her phone again.

Still no read receipt.

She bit the inside of her cheek and typed again.

Y/N: Are you on your way?

A beat.

Then another.

She waited. The stew began to cool. The candles burned lower.

She waited.

Seconds melted into minutes, minutes into nearly an hour. She checked the app again. Still no reply. Still no sign of him reading anything. She opened his location once — just for a second — then quickly closed it. She hated doing that. She hated that she had to.

She stood and began to pace, heels softly clicking against the wooden floor. Maybe he was caught up in rehearsal. Maybe there was an emergency. Maybe the manager needed him. Maybe—

But she knew. Deep down, she always knew. He wasn’t coming.

She sat back down, slower this time. The candles had nearly burnt to the bottom. The flowers had begun to wilt at the edges — or maybe it was just her vision blurring. She wasn’t sure anymore.

The dress suddenly felt tight. Like a costume for a part she hadn’t been chosen for. Her fingers hovered over the keyboard again, but this time she couldn’t think of anything to write that didn’t sound like begging.

So she stayed still. Alone in the quiet room she had tried so hard to fill with love. The room smelled like food nobody would eat. Music still played low in the background, a playlist he had once made for her.

Two years.

And still, she had never felt more invisible.

Her thumb hovered over the call button, hesitation curling in her stomach like smoke. But she tapped it anyway.

Changbin picked up on the second ring.

“Hey, Bunny,” he greeted cheerfully, completely unaware of the ache she was holding in her chest.

She forced a smile he couldn’t see. “Hi Binnie…” Her voice was soft, hesitant. “Is, um… is Felix with you?”

There was a brief pause on the other end as he pulled the phone away and called out to the others in the background. Muffled voices responded, then a rustle as he returned to the line.

“No, he’s not. I thought he was with you — didn’t we all clear out of the dorm just so you guys could celebrate tonight?”

Her cheeks flushed with shame, though there was no one in the room to see it. She glanced at the untouched food, the dying candles, the table she’d poured her heart into.

“Yeah… I thought so too,” she said quickly, trying to cover her disappointment. “Maybe he got caught in traffic or something.”

They said their goodbyes, and she hung up. The silence settled again like a heavy coat on her shoulders.

Just as she sat back down, trying to swallow the sting in her throat, the front door creaked open.

She heard a familiar sniff — the kind he always did when he came in from the cold. Then the soft sound of his boots on the wooden floor. He stepped into the apartment, cheeks flushed pink from the winter air, a black beanie pulled low over his blonde hair. His glasses slid a little down his nose as he looked up.

“Oh, hey,” he said casually, giving her a faint smile. “Smells good in here.”

Then he saw her eyes.

Swollen. Red. Quiet in a way that wasn’t like her.

His smile faltered instantly.

“Wait… are you okay, babe?” he asked, concern blooming on his face as he stepped inside and shut the door behind him. His eyes darted around. “Where are the guys?”

Of course. He still didn’t realize.

She stood slowly, her hands clenched at her sides. Her voice came out so small it barely carried across the room.

“Do you know what day it is today?”

He blinked, confused. “Yeah, I had that fitting today. For Nicolas—”

She let out a short breath, almost a scoff. “No, Felix.” Her voice cracked a little. “I mean our day.”

It hit him then.

His gaze snapped to the table — the candles now half-burned, the cold food still untouched, the carefully arranged white roses she had picked just for tonight. His face paled.

“Oh fuck,” he whispered, breath catching. He dropped his bag to the floor like it weighed a thousand pounds. “Baby, I’m so sorry. I… I completely—”

She stepped back when he moved toward her.

“Don’t, Felix.”

He stopped mid-step, heart in his throat. “Please, baby. I swear I didn’t mean to forget. Things got so hectic and—”

She shook her head, eyes shining again with unshed tears. And this time, she didn’t hide them.

She stood there, arms loosely wrapped around herself as if trying to hold something inside from spilling out. Her voice was low, almost hollow, when she said it.

“Yeah. Obviously… This isn’t the first time.”

Felix froze in front of her. His hand hovered mid-air, like he had meant to reach out and touch her, but her words stopped him cold. His face crumpled for a second — just a flicker — before he tried to pull himself together.

“I didn’t mean to—”

“No, I know.” She gave a small laugh, sharp and tired. “You never mean to. That’s the thing, Lix. It’s never cruel. It’s never deliberate. But it still hurts the same.”

The air between them grew heavy, a silence so loud it pressed on both their chests.

He swallowed hard.

“I had the fitting, and then Chan called and we had to—”

“I’m not asking for excuses,” she cut him off, voice trembling. “I’m not even asking for much, Felix. Just to matter a little more than whatever the hell always comes first.”

He flinched at that.

“That’s not fair,” he muttered.

“Isn’t it?”

He looked at her then — really looked. And for a terrifying second, she saw it in his face: the anger, the frustration. Not at her, not really, but at the impossible reality of his life. The life she had once told him she understood. Did she really ?

“You knew what this was,” he finally said, voice low and raw. “You knew what it meant to be with me. The schedule. The travel. The pressure. I don’t get to forget fittings or rehearsals or appearances. If I let people down, I don’t just apologize and move on — I lose everything.”

She didn’t say anything. Just stared at him with wide, wet eyes, like he’d just broken something that had already been cracking for far too long.

“Yeah,” she whispered, “but what about me, Felix?”

He went still.

“What do I lose?” she asked. “I sit here waiting, I make the dinner, I light the candles, I put on a fucking dress I haven’t worn in a year, and you… you don’t even remember. You walk in like it’s Tuesday.”

He took a shaky breath. “Baby, please…”

She stepped back before he could reach for her. “Do you know how humiliating it is? Calling Changbin just to ask where you are? Hoping maybe you were in traffic — begging the universe for a traffic jam to cover for the fact that you just forgot me?”

Felix’s eyes were glassy now. He opened his mouth, then closed it again.

“You’re everything to me,” he said finally, quietly. “You know that, right?”

She looked at him — her voice so soft it nearly shattered him.

“Then why do I feel like nothing?”

“Don’t say shit like that,” Felix snapped, voice tight, eyes burning. “You know that’s not fair. That’s bullshit.”

Her eyes flicked up to meet his, glossed with unshed tears. But she didn’t flinch.

“Well your excuses are bullshit too,” she shot back, breath trembling. “You always have a reason, don’t you? Always something more important.”

He ran a hand through his hair, exasperated. “What the fuck is your problem?” he growled. “It’s not an excuse—I’m sorry for being late, and I’m fucking sorry for forgetting our fucking anniversary, alright?”

She took a small step back. Not out of fear—but because the volume in his voice hurt more than she’d expected.

“We’ve talked about this!” he shouted, pacing now, his emotions spiraling faster than he could stop them. “So many goddamn times. You know how busy I am. We’re planning a whole comeback right now. I’ve barely slept in days, but I still came home. And now I’m the bad guy for being human? For slipping up once?”

She didn’t say anything. Her hands were starting to shake, but she curled them into fists to keep it hidden.

He scoffed bitterly, and when he looked at her again, something cruel slipped past the desperation.

“You are so fucking clingy, you know that?” he spat. “Always fucking needing something. Always fucking complaining when I can’t give you every second of my life. You should be grateful I even made it home tonight.”

The silence that followed was deafening.

Her chest rose and fell unevenly, the sting of his words blooming into something sharp and cold in her lungs. He’d never yelled at her before. Not like this. Not with that look on his face, like she was just another burden.

She blinked fast, trying to keep her tears from falling, voice cracking as she whispered,

“…Well. I’m sorry, then.”

The front door creaked open.

The boys stepped inside, loud with laughter at first, but it died instantly when they saw her — standing still in the center of the room like she’d been hit by a truck. Her eyes were wet. Her shoulders drawn in tight, like she was trying to make herself small.

Felix grabbed his bag off the floor in one sharp movement.

Chan reached out instinctively. “Felix—”

But he shoved past him, jaw clenched, and stormed out without another word, the door slamming behind him.

Silence again.

Hyunjin stepped forward carefully. “What… happened?”

Chan looked at her with quiet alarm. “Are you okay?”

She didn’t answer.

Didn’t even look up.

Just wiped her cheek roughly with the back of her hand, and with a voice small and tired beyond her years, she said,

“Suit yourselves. The food’s cold. You can heat it up.”

Then she turned and went upstairs, footsteps slow, dragging.

And when her door closed, she finally let herself break.

────୨ৎ────

Lee Know was halfway through a bowl of cereal, hoodie hood pulled halfway over his face, when the front door creaked open.

Felix stepped in, eyes tired, the beanie from last night still on his head.

“Morning,” his deep voice mumbled, scratchy from lack of sleep—or maybe from all the shouting.

Lee Know looked up from the kitchen counter.

“Where were you all night?”

Felix shrugged, trying to keep it casual. “Slept over at Wooyoung’s.”

A pause.

Lee Know set his spoon down slowly, expression unreadable.

“Well… your girlfriend’s gone.”

That made Felix freeze.

“What do you mean ‘gone’?”

Footsteps padded on the stairs behind him as Changbin came down, stretching.

“Good morning to you too,” he muttered sarcastically.

Chan came down next, already dressed and scrolling through his phone. He didn’t look up when he spoke.

“Where’s Y/N?” Felix asked, voice tight.

“Could ask you that,” Chan said flatly, opening the fridge and pulling out the orange juice.

There was no pity in their eyes. No sympathy for the wide-eyed confusion dawning on his face.

Felix dug into his pocket for his phone, unlocking it with fumbling fingers. He typed out a quick message.

Felix: Where did you go?

Felix: Baby please say something

Felix: I’m sorry.

Delivered. But no response.

His chest squeezed.

Last night had been a blur of anger and guilt, and he’d tried to bury both by disappearing into the safety of someone else’s couch and letting silence do the talking. But now that she was actually gone—really gone—it hit him like a truck.

He leaned on the kitchen counter, staring at his phone, jaw clenched.

“She left before sunrise,” Lee Know added, softer this time. “Didn’t even take breakfast.”

“Did you seriously not check on her before walking out?” Changbin’s voice held a quiet frustration now. “Not even a note? A text? After yelling at her like that?”

Felix didn’t answer.

Chan looked up finally, folding his arms. “You can’t just throw words like that at her and expect everything to be fine the next morning, Felix. You hurt her. Really hurt her.”

“She didn’t even cry when she said goodbye,” Lee Know added. “That’s how you know it was bad.”

Felix gripped the edge of the counter so hard his knuckles turned white.

“I know I fucked up,” he muttered.

“Then fix it,” Chan snapped, frustration bubbling over. “Unless you’re okay with losing her. Is that what you want?”

“Of course not,” Felix said, almost yelling. Then quieter, like he was trying to convince himself, “Of course not.”

He opened her chat again. Still no reply.

Then he tried calling her.

Straight to voicemail.

He stared at the screen, jaw clenching tighter, guilt curling in his stomach like poison. He couldn’t even blame her. The words he’d thrown at her—he could still hear them in his own voice. Clingy. Grateful I came home. As if she hadn’t waited hours, set a table, built a moment for them to celebrate them—only to be made to feel like a burden.

And now she was gone.

Really gone.

────୨ৎ────

Felix paced the living room like a storm trapped in a bottle.

“Guys, please just tell me where she is,” he begged for the fifth time, turning to Han, who sat cross-legged on the floor tuning a guitar but hadn’t strummed a single string.

“Even if I knew, I wouldn’t tell you,” Han said without looking up. “She needs space, and you need to understand why.”

Felix ran a hand through his messy hair, breath shaky. His voice dropped into a quieter plea.

“I just want to say sorry. Really this time.”

Across the room, Lee Know was leaning against the kitchen island, arms crossed, silent and brooding. His cereal was forgotten and soggy in the bowl beside him. He didn’t speak, just stared at the floor. He hadn’t touched his phone in a while either, and his usual apathy looked more like discomfort now.

Then, slowly, he pulled out his phone and unlocked it with a sigh.

Felix watched with wide eyes, frozen in place.

Lee Know didn’t meet his gaze. He just lifted the phone to his ear and waited.

It rang once. Twice.

And then—click.

“Hi, princess,” Lee Know said softly, the corners of his mouth twitching in a rare, gentle smile. “Where are you?”

Felix swallowed hard, heart hammering.

A pause.

“Mm… I see. With Ryujin?” He glanced up, eyes flickering to Felix.

Felix exhaled, slumping down onto the couch, his head falling into his hands, relief crashing through his chest like a wave. His voice cracked slightly:

“Thank God…”

Lee Know pressed the phone closer, lowering his voice. “You know he was worried about you, right? Wouldn’t sit down. Keeps asking for you like a lost puppy.”

There was a silence as she responded on the other end. Lee Know listened with a slight nod. Then, he murmured, “Yeah… he knows. He’s been beating himself up since sunrise.”

Felix lifted his head, searching Lee Know’s face for any hint of hope.

Another pause.

And then—click.

The call ended.

Lee Know let the phone fall to his side, then turned to Felix.

“She said she was gonna come by tonight. Just to pick up some clothes.”

Felix shot up straight. “She’s coming back?”

Lee Know gave him a warning look. “She thinks you’re not gonna be here.”

Felix stood up too quickly, pacing again. “This is my only chance, right?”

“It’s not a performance, Felix,” Lee Know said coolly. “Don’t do it because you’re panicking. Do it because you actually get it now.”

Chan walked in just then, arms crossed and gaze sharp.

“Did I hear that right?” he said. “She’s coming over?”

Felix nodded, eyes hopeful. “Tonight.”

Chan raised his brows and scoffed. “After what happened, I’m honestly surprised she even wants to walk into the same apartment again.”

“Hyung—”

“No. Shut up for a second.”

Chan’s tone dropped. Firm. Controlled. Not yelling—but somehow worse than that.

“Do you even understand why she left?” he said. “Do you know what it does to someone to make a space just for you—light candles, cook, set the table—just to be treated like she’s overreacting? Like she’s clingy for wanting one fucking evening with the person she loves?”

Felix lowered his head.

“You didn’t just forget the anniversary, Felix. You made her feel like she was a burden for caring. And that’s the shit that sticks. That’s what people remember when they think about whether they feel safe with someone or not.”

The room fell quiet.

Even Lee Know didn’t chime in.

Chan stared at him a beat longer before sighing and turning away.

“If she shows up tonight, don’t just say sorry. Show her you actually mean it.”

Felix stood there, chest rising and falling, the weight of Chan’s words heavy in his bones.

He looked at the couch where she used to curl up beside him, the kitchen where she’d probably stood hours decorating a table for a night he never showed up for.

His heart thudded like a warning.

Tonight would either make or break everything.

────୨ৎ────

She hadn’t even taken off her shoes.

The hallway felt too quiet when she stepped inside, her fingers still trembling around the key she’d almost dropped twice. It was dark, except for a faint amber light flickering from the living room. She’d told herself she’d just grab her things, maybe leave a note. Maybe cry in the car after. She didn’t expect him to be here.

But when she turned the corner, she froze.

There he was.

On the couch.

Waiting.

His hair was a mess, clothes wrinkled like he hadn’t changed in a day, and his eyes—God, his eyes looked ruined.

“Hi,” he whispered.

She stayed by the doorway, fingers tightening around the handle of the overnight bag she planned to fill. The room smelled like her favorite vanilla candle—he’d lit all of them. The table was set again, this time clumsy but clearly him. Two plates. A reheated attempt at the same meal she had made. A half-wilted flower placed carefully beside the napkin.

It was almost laughable.

But her chest ached too much to laugh.

“Minho said you weren’t home,” she said, quietly.

He stood up. Slowly. Like he was afraid she’d bolt if he moved too fast.

“I wasn’t supposed to be,” he said, voice hoarse. “But I… I couldn’t let you come back to silence.”

She looked away.

“Y/N,” he stepped closer, but didn’t reach out. “I’m so fucking sorry.”

Her eyes flickered to him, glossy already. She didn’t want to cry again. She really didn’t.

“You yelled at me,” she said. Her voice shook, the words barely above a whisper. “You’ve never done that before.”

He inhaled sharply like her words had sliced him.

“I know.” His voice broke. “I know, and I’ll never forgive myself for it.”

She looked at him then—really looked. His eyes were red, like he hadn’t slept. His hands trembled at his sides, and his lips were parted like he was still trying to find the right words to make everything right.

But there weren’t any.

So she said the thing that had haunted her the most.

“You made me feel small. Like I was annoying for loving you too much.”

He pressed his hands against his face, dragging them down in frustration before stepping forward again.

“No—no, baby, please. I never meant that. I never meant any of it.” His voice cracked. “You love me in the most beautiful way. You make spaces warm. You make days matter. I was stressed, and tired, and stupid—but I should’ve never, ever taken it out on you.”

Silence.

Her throat burned.

“I don’t want to be scared of you, Lix,” she said, and this time her voice broke. “I was scared when you yelled. I—I didn’t know what to do. You’ve never made me feel like that before and it…” She couldn’t finish.

He rushed to her then, falling to his knees in front of her.

“I swear to you,” he whispered, clutching the hem of her coat. “That’ll never happen again. I swear on everything—I’ll spend every day making sure you never feel that way. Please… please don’t give up on me.”

His eyes were shimmering, his fingers trembling against the fabric. She could feel the heat of his skin even through the coat.

“I miss you,” he said, choking the words out. “I miss you like my lungs miss air.”

She stood there for a long moment, heart in her throat, the space between them thick with unsaid hurt and love and regret.

Then she knelt too.

And wrapped her arms around him.

He broke.

Right there in her arms, the boy who had always held her like she was breakable shattered like glass in her embrace. He clung to her, face buried in her shoulder, breath ragged with sobs he no longer tried to hide.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry—” he kept whispering.

She stroked his hair gently, tears finally falling.

“I know,” she whispered back. “Just… don’t ever let me feel alone like that again.”

His arms tightened around her.

“Never,” he swore. “Not even for a second.”

And in that fragile moment, on the floor of their shared apartment, they started to put the pieces back together.

He held her like the world would collapse if he let go. And maybe, for him, it would have.

Still kneeling on the floor with her curled into his chest, Felix pressed his lips to her temple, voice thick but steady now. “I’ll do better. I swear.”

She didn’t answer, but he could feel the way her hand tightened at the back of his hoodie.

“I never meant to make you feel like an afterthought. And missing our anniversary—God, that’s on me. All of it is. You planned everything so beautifully, and I just… I wasn’t there. And I should’ve been.”

Her cheek pressed into his collarbone. He kissed the top of her head.

“From now on,” he whispered, “you’re part of everything. Not just the parts I have time for. I’ll make time. You shouldn’t have to beg for it.”

His words sank into her slowly, like balm on a bruise. And for once, she could tell he wasn’t just saying it—he meant it. He meant every word.

────୨ৎ────

It started small.

The next morning, he took her hand and asked if she’d come with him to the studio. Not just to drop him off. Not just for a coffee run. But to stay. With him.

She curled up on the couch. Watched the way he got lost in the music. Smiled every time he threw her a wink or made a goofy face mid-recording just to make her laugh.

The boys didn’t question it. Not once.

In fact, they loved it.

“You here for emotional support or to make sure he doesn’t forget your birthday too?” Changbin teased, and she threw a pillow at him while Felix grinned like an idiot behind his laptop.

She helped Hyunjin organize props for their SKZ Talker behind-the-scenes vlog. Chan gave her the camera once and let her film a whole segment herself. Felix kept sneaking in frames to kiss her cheek, until Lee Know pushed him out of the way with a deadpan, “Let her work, she’s better than you at this.”

Felix took her to late-night practice, where she watched them run the same choreo until their shirts clung to their backs. She clapped louder than anyone.

“I don’t care how tired I am,” he whispered during water breaks, forehead resting against hers. “As long as you’re here.”

She sat beside him at brand meetings, picked out outfits with the stylists, got a backstage pass to his world—and not once did he make her feel like she was in the way.

He asked her opinion.

He held her hand.

He told every staff member who looked surprised to see her, “She’s staying. That’s my girl.”

And every night when they got home, he’d wrap his arms around her and murmur:

“Thank you for not giving up on me.”

───୨ৎ────────୨ৎ───────୨ৎ───

@sapphirewaves @bemyaehiweloveskz @velvetmoonlght

[fefispider]

— ִ ࣪𖤐 you and felix broke up and the members send you texts.

part 2/2

- part one is here :)

જ⁀➴ contains: narration, lil bit of angst, fluff, gn reader ! it's really short but I hope you enjoy it!

୨୧ Han

୨୧ I.N

★ your POV

Minho got in touch with the other boys and some of them ended up coming to your apartment to spend the day with you. Chan and Changbin's offer to be a shoulder for you to cry on, along with Minho's insistence into talking better with you about your relationship and Han's suggestion to have some beer all came in handy when you opened that door and let them all in as the clock hit mid-day. Your Saturday wouldn't be so sorrowful anymore, or so you thought.

Of course you were all a mess as the night settled in, everyone lamenting past relationships and you, specially, sharing your recent experience about breaking up with someone you considered to be the love of your life. Minho made you drink water while Chan hugged you, your sad sobs now the only sound that could be heard since no one really knew what to say - and Han was practically dead on the rug, sleeping like a baby.

You didn't really know who opened the door for Hyunjin, but there he was, brows furrowed and eyes fixed on your figure; he hated it so much because he knew Felix was suffering too, and Felix was his favorite person. If Felix was suffering, and the person he loved was too, it meant the universe weren't being too kind.

"I got a day off." Hyunjin announced after you were calmer and listening, Han still asleep.

"What do you mean?" Chan questioned, not really following as it came out of the blue.

"For Felix. And ended up taking that day for the rest of us too."

"Oh." You muttered, remembering his texts. "That arrangement."

"So this is for you." Minho immediately understood, giving your hand a gentle squeeze.

"Didn't really want it." You hugged your legs, feeling vulnerable while everyone looked at you and pitied you.

"Hyunjin must've promised something." Changbin narrowed.

"He said he will teach me pottery." You looked at him with narrowed eyes as well.

"Tsk. I'll believe it when I see it." Minho snickered.

"Yah! I didn't teach them yet because I didn't get enough time. Clay takes patience!" He defended himself. "Anyway, meet him on Tuesday, you can use my dorm. Since I know Felix won't agree to meet up with you, I'll set him up."

"Woah." Chan laughed a bit.

"Of course he would meet up!" Changbin was confused.

"No, he's too scared of rejection." Chan added.

"Exactly." Hyunjin agreed. Minho was still comforting you as he held your hand.

"I don't know about this..." You murmured.

"You have to try. Don't you still love him?" Minho tried.

"I do but-"

"You already have your answer."

You were so damn nervous you took longer than usual to get ready, messing with your eyeliner thrice because you couldn't keep a steady hand.

Finally, there you were, pacing around Hyunjin's living room after he literally vanished into his painting studio and left you alone, waiting for your ex. You knew there was so much to say, so many unspoken feelings and miscomprehension between you and the freckled man. But your heart still swelled for him, still repeated his name when the night came in and you held your head against the pillow, unable to close your eyes.

The soft click of the door made you freeze for a second, looking behind you and locking eyes with the guy in your thoughts, his brown eyes wide and startled.

"Y/n?"

"Felix."

Silence. He stared at you for a few instants before turning on his heels and holding the doorknob to leave.

"Don't! I'm here to talk..." You hurried.

"It's okay, I didn't know you'd be here." He opened the door, the familiar aussie accent you didn't realize you already missed was there.

"We set you up! I'm here to talk to you."

"What?" He looked at you again, his bleached hair falling a bit over his eyes.

"Can you... Can we just have a conversation this time?"

"So you wanna explain now?" He tried to sound mad, but there was just that broken tone that showed off how hurt he was.

"I do." You firmly said.

It was enough to make him close the door, squeeze his eyes for a moment and slowly move to sit down on the couch. He didn't say anything, but he looked at you to show he was listening. He wouldn't speak before listening.

You couldn't sit, your mind in a restless state.

"So... I don't know how to begin." You sighed. "I want to say sorry for not really explaining things properly, it's just that you never have enough time and I was afraid to mess with your schedule-"

"I know." His deep voice cut you off. "I'm sorry too. It's my fault."

"it's not." You retorted. "Let me speak..."

"Sorry."

"It's just that... I think there are so many reasons! Gosh, it's much to just say it all at once and get the words out. But I think my insecurities got in the way? Mixed with yours? Like, I'm always so afraid of disturbing you somehow, you're always so busy! My regular job is tiring and all but it doesn't compare to having to keep appearances all the time, we weren't even public to begin with..." You tried to conceal everything, make it all make sense, and you had a feeling Felix was not only hearing you but also understanding when you started. "And you've been different too. Not just loving me and texting me when you're away, not just being you. Felix, I get it you can't always be physically with me. I get it you have to travel all the fucking time and that we will be apart longer than normal couples do... It doesn't mean you have to give me gifts every single time you come back. These expensive things you give me, they don't make up for away time."

He widened his eyes a bit, finally realizing something he never considered.

"Is that why you don't use most of them?" He whispered. "You don't like them cause they're expensive?"

"What? No! It's not that I don't like them. I don't need them. I need you. Only you." You sighed again, he wasn't getting the point. "I date you because you're you, Lix. Fuck gifts and objects, I can't even find use for all of them to be honest."

"Oh... I think I understand now."

"You do?"

"I guess?" He gives you a forced smile.

"I just don't think they're necessary if there's no special occasion. I pretty much prefer to receive good morning and good night texts from you other than getting these boxes delivered to my place with gifts all the time." You finally sat down too, next to him but not touching. "I want our relationship to feel natural again. Just normal, you know?"

"I'm sorry..." He looked away, ashamed.

"Stop saying that."

"But I am. It's the first time I got serious with someone, you know that... So I thought you'd like to get these gifts regularly because it would mean I always remember you." He looked down, you hated yourself for not being so open before.

"It's my fault too."

"it's not. I could've asked and-"

"No! If I just said I didn't like to get all that stuff it could've avoided a break up."

"Or we would've fought because I wouldn't be able to have a proper conversation with you due to my short free time." He lifted an eyebrow. He was right.

"Yeah, that could happen too..." You nodded. "Thing is, I appreciate your texts so much more. I feel you remember me when you send me random voice memos or texts whenever you have time, even if briefly. I know how hectic your days are, specially lately on tour."

He looked at you with pitiful eyes, he was in a mix of sadness and unbelief.

"You're telling me we broke up over this?" He was so mad at himself. "If I made time for you earlier..."

"Felix! Please, don't blame yourself for everything. We needed this."

"We did?" He sighed.

You looked at him with a little smile, your heart so heavy with emotions you realized you had for him in the last days.

"It made me notice just how much you're special to me. Not just because you're my boyfriend. I was worried sick about you, knowing you weren't well and that I was the cause. Knowing I could've used the few days of rest you had after returning to cuddle with you and be with you... But no. I was so convinced I wanted to break up I only noticed it was the worse I could do after I had done it. So it made me realize I was wrong, you see?"

"I see. It was necessary for us to sit down and finally talk too, right?" He showed a soft smile, enough to melt you. "I was feeling like shit, I swear. Like someone physically grabbed my heart and tore it apart. I thought you would never come back to me because you sounded so convicted when you asked for the break up."

He was so sensitive, so honest. You instinctively reached for his face, hand gently cupping his cheek and your thumb running over his freckles.

"I'm sorry for breaking up. I want to keep being yours."

"Mine?" He whispered so breathlessly. "You never said that before."

"Fuck." You giggled a bit, looking away for a second. "Guess I didn't realize how much you're actually who I want to be with forever."

"Oh my God, why are you being so-" He didn't know how to finish, so he just closed the gap between you and pampered your whole face with kisses, cupping your cheeks all the while. "You're mine? You're mine again?"

"Completely yours! But are you mine too?" You narrowed playfully.

"I didn't stop being yours for a second."

And it was enough for you to kiss him bravely, savoring the taste of his mint tongue like you didn't have it for months, slow and tender while you caressed his cheekbones and guided his head to turn however you liked. It felt like the first kiss you gave a few years back, a kiss with affection, care and rediscovered feelings.

How silly of you to have broken up with the one you could never stop loving.

[fefispider]

part 2 will be posted soon ♡

— ִ ࣪𖤐 you and felix broke up and the members send you texts.

part 1/2

୨୧ Bang Chan

୨୧ Changbin

୨୧ Lee Know

୨୧ Hyunjin

୨୧ Seungmin

[fefispider]

Seungmin // cinema mv video behind the scenes.

[fefispider]

I LOVE THIS ONE LMAOO

setting him up — stray kids maknae line

— the one where you try to set them up with a friend but they have a very good reason why they don’t want to go for it.

hyung line ver

☼☽⋆｡°✧ ✧⋆°｡☾☼

[fefispider]

y'all don't get it like I do

[fefispider]

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han jisung + overstimulation/oral fixation

a/n - very pussy drunk jisung!! (also, the taglist is growing 🥹 thank you so much everyone!!)

“Ji—Jisung, I can’t,” you whimper, voice cracking, barely hanging on. Your throat is hoarse from crying out his name, your thighs shaking uncontrollably on either side of his head. Your body’s wrecked—nerves fried, chest heaving, pussy aching from overstimulation—but he doesn’t care.

Or maybe he does. Just not in the way that means stopping.

He’s buried between your legs like he’s never coming up for air, tongue frantic, sloppy, relentless. It’s not about finesse anymore. He’s desperate, driven by something primal, mouth dragging over every inch of you with no intention of mercy. He groans when your hips buck, tongue flattening against your clit as if the sound of your pleasure is feeding him.

You’ve lost count of your orgasms. Two? Three? Doesn’t matter. You can feel another building already, pressure coiling again in your gut, raw and sharp. And he’s still going. Still acting like this is the first taste. Like he’s starving.

“Fuck, you taste so good,” he grits out between licks, voice low and ruined. He’s panting like he’s the one being touched, rutting into the bed with the kind of urgency that says he’s getting off just from this—just from the sounds you make, the way your legs clamp around his ears every time he hits the right spot.

“Can’t stop—can’t—fuck—just let me keep going, please—”

He’s not asking. Not really. Not with the way his fingers dig into your hips to hold you in place when you try to squirm away, nails biting into your skin hard enough to leave marks. He’s in control, completely, and he knows it.

“You’re not done,” he growls, finally pulling back enough to speak. His voice is feral. His lips are slick and swollen, chin glistening, eyes glazed over with something that looks a lot like obsession. He’s grinning—crazed, almost cocky. “You said I could do whatever I wanted tonight. Remember that, baby?”

Before you can even answer—before the thought can form—he’s back on you, hungrier than before. His mouth is messier, wetter, like he’s trying to drown in you. You feel every flick, every moan, every filthy drag of his tongue like a live wire under your skin.

You scream his name, back arching off the bed, hands flying to his hair, fingers twisting hard. Desperate.

But it only turns him on more.

He groans—loud and guttural—and fucks himself harder against the mattress. He’s chasing his own high from between your legs, like this is the only thing that gets him off.

“Shit,” he breathes, voice shaking. “You’re so wet—so fucking sweet—could eat this pussy every night. Morning too. Fuck breakfast—this is what I wanna wake up to.”

He seals his mouth over your clit and sucks, hard. Your whole body jolts like he flipped a switch, vision going white around the edges. You gasp, curse, cry—words spilling out broken and useless.

And then, without warning, his fingers slide into you—deep and slick and curling just right.

Your back bows. Your breath catches. And he’s still not done. Not even close.

Judging by the way he’s moaning into you—like he needs this, like he lives for it—he’s not stopping until you can’t speak. Until you forget your own name. Until he’s made you come again and again and again.

And maybe, if he gets his way, you'll beg him to never stop.

©sunshineangel0 𖹭 if you liked this work, please consider reblogging, commenting or liking! xoxo franzi 💋

skz general: @velvetmoonlght @scarlet789 @estella-novella @nightmarenyxx @channiesluvrclub @slut4junho @bobaluvzz @channiesbaby1433 @wonniesjungdimple @mythicmochi

(if you wanna be added to the taglist comment below!)

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you'd never let me fall ・b.c

—Bangchan who carries you home while your a little drunk and your feet a lot a bit hurt

paring・bangchan x gn!reader // geners・fluff, established relationships // words・900 // warnings・drunkenness, if you don't like rambles or tooth-rotting fluff than you won't like this

a/n・i needed something soft and fluffy after a pretty big fight with my dad and i found this also @sunnysdiary istg i dont know what i would do without you ilysm. p.s. lowkey proud of myself for finally just writing (i only edited once for like an hour :))

You were exactly two blocks away from your apartment when the handful of shots you had thrown back earlier really started to hit you. The sun had died hours ago, the sky now sparkling with stars that seemed to dance and tangle with the streetlights in your vision.

Wow.

You were really fucked up.

You sigh, leaning deeper into the crook of Chan's neck, his hand pressed protectively against your back as he holds you up. His breathing is soft and calming when the world begins to shift again, sharp pain shooting up your legs thanks to the stupidest decision you made all night—wearing high-heels.

The only thing that could be heard over the harsh click of your foot-shaped-death-traps is your pained groan as you loll your head against Chan's shoulder and stumble over the sidewalk mindlessly.

"I'm tired, carry me home," you slur, a slight whine in your voice. He simply smiles, looking down at your dizzy gaze with tender eyes before effortlessly scooping you up bridal style.

The moon grins with you.

Your heartbeats intertwine as you squeal, lovesick giggles pouring from your lips as you hide your face in his sweat-coated neck.

There was no way he was real.

You pull away, blinking up at his sharp jaw and shiny lips, and you swore if you looked just long enough you could find the stars hung on his lashes. There was something about him, something that spread warmth underneath your ribs. You could never quite place it—the feeling bursting within you before settling down like sweet rose perfume fading off your shirt as your nose acclimates to the scent.

Perhaps it was the alcohol that made you so sentimental, or how in a rush of emotion you remember days when you used to assess others by their expressions, the tone of their voice, and the heaviness of their footsteps. You had gotten so used to living on the edge of disaster the thought of certainty deemed to be an impossible feat—that was until you met Chan. He was something special, he loved you softly, with gentle fingers and adoring gazes. He wasn't loud, not with his words or his actions, and sometimes from the outside, society might have deemed he didn't love you at all, but you knew better than that.

Just because it was subtle didn't mean it wasn't there—it just meant it was safe.

The notion alone is enough to bring tears to your eyes, drunkenly choking out: "Thank you for always carrying me."

His gaze softens before he faintly tilts his lips, muttering, "Thank you for letting me carry you."

You were almost to the house when, mindlessly, half-asleep, you mumble, "You'd never let me fall," before going limp in the comfort of Chan's strong arms.

If you weren't so drunk, you might have noticed the shift in his stride, how a shy blush falls over his cheeks and he fights the urge to spread a smile so bright across his face it would put the sun to shame.

But you were far too gone to notice. And he was so focused on keeping you safe that he didn't sense how deeply in love with him you were right then.

You were correct; down to his very last days, he would never let you fall.

You hadn't realized how close you were to the apartment before he steps through the unlocked door, your vision blurring into the darkness of your shared home. It was the silky sheets you felt first, the warmth of his hand leaving you only before he gently pulled the covers over your body and right underneath your chin.

He kisses your forehead, lips lingering there before, hesitantly, he whispers, "I don't know what I'd do if I didn't get to carry you."

He brushes a stray lock of hair from your eyes as you crack them open only to smile, lopsided and silly. "I guess we'll never know."

Bangchan stares at you for hours after that, admiring you in all your tranquility. He knows he should stop, but he also knows he can’t. It had bottled inside him for so long, and it felt as though the rug had been ripped out from under him, and suddenly his feelings flooded out of him all at once. This wasn't what average love felt like—it was pure, gentle, and, best of all, entirely absolute.

In the novels, love is described as something maddening, profound, and disorienting. And while there are moments where it felt as though the galaxy had been sewn into your fingertips, it was more than that. Chan quickly came to find that love lived in silence—the intimate moments where words didn't matter. There was no pressure or unrealistic expectations when he was with you, no anxiety about being perfect all the time. Being with you made the world feel... lighter.

He breathes, brushing a lock of hair out of your face. You shift, instinctively leaning into his touch. A small smile tugs at his lips when the moonlight catches your face just right; you were peaceful, angelic like spring flowers fluttering in the breeze.

There are very few things in this world that are truly poetic. Some may say the stars, the sea, humanity, and the very depth of our emotions. And while Chan could agree with all of those, his love for you outweighed them all.

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— ִ ࣪𖤐 you and felix broke up and the members send you texts.

part 1/2

୨୧ Bang Chan

୨୧ Changbin

୨୧ Lee Know

୨୧ Hyunjin

୨୧ Seungmin

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brb— omw to throw myself off of the tallest building i can find.

what a tease. oh how i love him♡