loeyshine

[loeyshine]

The Girl at the Crosswalk

Epoch Book

•*⁀➷pairing: chanyeol x fem reader

Theme: strangers to lovers, student and idol au, sexy love, age-gap mentions. “I just never meant to be intrigued by you”.

Description: A forbidden spark ignites between a rising artist and a K-pop idol, where music, age, and secrets collide unraveling a magnetic, tender chaos neither of them expected… nor can escape.

Playlist: beautiful soul — jesse mccartney

Chapter 1:

Chanyeol POV

It was a regular morning.

Or at least, it should have been.

I was late again thanks to my alarm being a complete traitor. My manager had already texted three times, each one with increasing levels of passive aggression. I shoved my phone into my pocket and jogged toward the streetlight, hoodie pulled up, cap low, just another guy in the crowd.

Then I saw her.

Standing on the other side of the crosswalk.

A school uniform. Short skirt, loose tie, the top button undone in that careless way most high schoolers wore it. Her hair was tossed over one shoulder, glinting under the early sunlight like it had been kissed by gold.

She looked… young. Maybe too young. But she wasn’t a kid not quite. There was something different in the way she carried herself. Confident but detached. Like she was in her own world.

I couldn’t stop staring.

She didn’t even see me. Not even a glance.

She was chewing gum, headphones in, staring blankly ahead. Like she didn’t care about anything. Not the rush of people. Not the heat. Not the guy three feet across the street who couldn’t stop looking at her like some lovesick fool.

God, was I the creep right now?

The light turned green. She walked across like she owned the pavement. Her skirt swayed slightly with each step, shoes tapping against the concrete in a rhythm I somehow remembered even after she passed me by.

I turned around. Just for a second.

She didn’t look back.

Didn’t even know I was there.

What was that?

A second of eye contact would’ve meant nothing. Just a flicker. But it didn’t happen. And somehow that made it worse. She passed through my day like a comet fast, bright, unreachable.

And maybe a little dangerous.

She must’ve been years younger than me. And yet, my heart was beating like I was the one who just got caught sneaking out of class.

I stood there too long. My phone buzzed again. My manager was going to kill me.

But I kept thinking:

Who the hell was she?

And why did it feel like I just saw something someone I wasn’t supposed to?

━━━━⊱⋆⊰━━━━

Chapter 2:

A week passed. Maybe more.

I kept telling myself it didn’t matter.

She was just a girl. A pretty stranger in a school uniform. It wasn’t like I was going to see her again. Seoul was huge. People come and go. She was probably just passing through. Some high schooler late for cram school, maybe on a school trip.

But she stayed in my head.

The flash of her hair. The nonchalant way she walked. That gum-popping attitude.

She haunted my morning thoughts. Like a song I heard once but couldn’t find again.

And then…

There she was.

Same street. Same damn crosswalk. But this time, I wasn’t rushing.

I saw her before she even noticed the light had changed.

She was standing outside a convenience store. School uniform again this time with a hoodie over it, zipped halfway up. Same white headphones. She was sipping on a strawberry milk and scrolling through her phone like the world didn’t exist.

My heart did that stupid thing again.

Thud.

I should’ve walked past. Should’ve kept going. But I slowed down, sunglasses on, pretending to check my phone as I neared her.

She glanced up.

Just for a second.

Eyes.

Locked.

Oh, shit.

They were sharp. Big. Curious. She blinked at me like I was vaguely familiar maybe someone she saw on TV once but couldn’t place. Then, just like that, she looked away.

No reaction.

I don’t know why I felt disappointed.

But I didn’t move. I stood near the rack of magazines outside the store, pretending to look at some celebrity gossip I was actually *in* last week. My ears were hot. I could feel the thump of my own pulse under my cap.

She was closer than last time. I could smell her shampoo. Something soft vanilla maybe. Something too innocent for how bold she looked.

Then, she said it.

“Are you staring at me?”

Her voice. Low. Unbothered.

I looked up, startled.

She was still looking at her phone. Not even smiling. Just chewing on her straw and watching me through her lashes.

Busted.

“N-No,” I muttered, pushing my cap lower. “Just… looking at the magazine.”

“Mm.” She nodded, unconvinced. “Creepy.”

And just like that, she turned and walked off.

Leaving me frozen, heart in my throat, looking like a complete idiot next to my own face on a tabloid cover.

Who was this girl?

And why the hell was I hoping I’d see her again?

Y/N POV

I wasn’t late today. For once.

My morning classes were hell, but I survived. Barely. I was starving, my backpack felt like a brick, and my AirPods were almost dead but it was fine. I had strawberry milk and five minutes of peace before I caught the bus.

I leaned against the wall outside the convenience store, hoodie thrown over my uniform, sipping slowly. The city buzzed around me. Cars, footsteps, people shouting into their phones. Seoul never shut up.

And then I felt it.

You know that weird prickling feeling when someone’s staring at you? Not casually. Like… really staring?

I glanced up.

Tall guy. Hoodie. Cap. Sunglasses.

He looked familiar sort of. One of those faces you swear you’ve seen before but can’t name. I looked back down at my phone, pretending not to care.

But he was still there.

Still not moving. Still pretending to look at a stack of magazines like it was his life’s purpose.

I wasn’t stupid. I’d had guys stare before. Some harmless. Some annoying. He didn’t feel dangerous… just awkward.

I pulled out my gum, popped it in my mouth, then without looking up, asked the obvious.

“Are you staring at me?”

There was a beat of silence. Then

“N-No… Just… looking at the magazine.”

Liar.

I almost smiled. Almost. But I didn’t give him the satisfaction. I sipped my milk and said flatly, “Creepy.”

Then I turned and walked away.

I didn’t even bother to check if he was still standing there. Probably was. Guys like that don’t know how to play it cool.

But for some reason… my heart was beating a little faster than usual.

Weird.

I blew a bubble with my gum and glanced over my shoulder as I crossed the street.

He was still there.

Frozen.

Still pretending to read a magazine.

And that’s when I noticed it. The cover.

His face.

Wait…

Was that really him?

Park. Freaking. Chanyeol?

I blinked, then laughed under my breath.

No way.

Too tall. Too awkward. Too normal in person.

But still…

I kind of hoped I’d see him again.

Not because he was hot.

(Okay, maybe a little.)

But because for once… someone was looking at me like I wasn’t just another girl in a uniform.

━━━━⊱⋆⊰━━━━

Chapter 3:

“So… you’re telling me a tall, hoodie-wearing creep was staring at you in broad daylight?”

“Yes.”

“No.”

“Ugh. Shut up.”

My best friend let’s call her Jade, because her mouth is sharp and her eyes see everything raised an eyebrow as we sat at the edge of the school rooftop, lunchboxes opened but barely touched.

She popped a cherry tomato into her mouth and looked at me like I’d just told her I saw a ghost.

I groaned. “It’s not that serious. He was just standing there. I caught him staring, called him out, and left. The end.”

Jade leaned in, grinning. “Called him out how?”

I mimicked sipping from a straw. “I said, ‘Are you staring at me?’ He choked. Denied it. Classic loser behavior.”

“And then?”

“I said, ‘Creepy,’ and walked away.”

She burst out laughing, nearly choking on her rice. “Y/N! You savage.”

I smirked and shrugged, trying to play it cool. But inside? My brain was still rewinding the moment. The awkward pause. His voice. His face. His stupid tall shadow. His scent kind of clean and warm, like cologne mixed with cold air.

I didn’t tell her the real part.

That I recognized him.

Park Chanyeol. EXO. My old crush, my not-so-secret obsession in middle school. His face was on every poster in my bedroom before I decided to grow up. Before I decided idols weren’t real.

But now?

Real. Too real. In front of a convenience store, staring at me like I wasn’t just another uniformed girl in a sea of white shirts and black skirts.

“So,” Jade said, poking my side with her chopsticks, “was he ugly or hot?”

I choked on my water. “What?”

“Well, if you call a guy ‘creepy’ but don’t look scared, he was probably hot. Admit it.”

“Shut up,” I muttered, turning away.

“Oh my god, he was hot. You’re blushing.”

“I’m not.”

“You totally are.”

I covered my face with both hands. “Jade. Please. He was just… some random guy. It’s not like I’ll see him again.”

“Mm-hmm,” she hummed, clearly not believing a word.

She leaned back, squinting up at the sun. “You’ve been weird all day. Who knows, maybe it was someone famous.”

I blinked. Heart stuttering.

She was close.

Too close.

But I kept my mouth shut.

Let her guess. Let her tease.

Let her think he was just a nameless, hot stranger who stared too long.

Because if I told her it was Chanyeol…

I’d never hear the end of it.

━━━━⊱⋆⊰━━━━

Chapter 4:

POV: Park Chanyeol

I was supposed to meet someone at the gallery annex.

Keyword: supposed to.

SM was hosting a small private art showcase one of those “support young talent” initiatives they like to slap our names on. I was half an hour early, killing time with an iced Americano in one hand and my phone in the other, scrolling without really seeing anything.

And then I looked up.

And time stopped.

She was there.

She was there.

But she didn’t look like her.

She wasn’t wearing a school uniform. No blazer, no skirt, no stiff-collared shirt.

She wasn’t chewing gum or staring blankly at the sky.

She was moving.

Breathing.

Focused.

In a tight black sleeveless top that hugged her waist and showed off her collarbones. Loose black shorts. Legs long and golden. Her hair tied up in a messy ponytail, strands falling around her face as she stood in front of a giant canvas, brush in hand.

Paint streaked her fingers.

Her lips were slightly parted.

And her eyes damn they were alive.

Focused on whatever she was painting. Lips moving like she was humming something under her breath.

She hadn’t seen me yet.

And I wasn’t breathing.

I leaned against the edge of the glass wall, half-hidden behind a pillar, trying to play it casual. But my pulse was going insane. My hands suddenly felt too big, too clumsy, and I couldn’t stop staring.

She looked older now.

Or maybe… she always looked like this and I just didn’t notice.

Hot.

Careless.

Dangerous in that effortless, don’t-give-a-damn kind of way.

The kind of girl who doesn’t try to be sexy she just is.

I swallowed hard.

And that’s when she turned.

Hair swinging, a paintbrush still in one hand, eyes blinking straight into mine.

My stomach dropped.

She froze. I froze.

Recognition flickered.

And then she smirked like she knew exactly who I was.

No gum this time.

No headphones.

Just that confident, head-tilted, I-saw-you-looking-again expression that made my mouth go dry.

She didn’t say anything.

Just turned back to her canvas and kept painting.

Cool. Effortless. Like I hadn’t just been wrecked for the second time.

I looked down, jaw clenched, trying to steady my breath.

Okay.

What the hell was happening to me?

I could’ve walked away.

I should’ve. My brain said: turn around, be smart, you’re too old for this and she’s clearly out of your league.

But my feet? They had other plans.

Before I even realized it, I was walking toward her.

Slowly.

Like if I got too close too fast, she’d vanish.

She was still painting bold red streaks across a half-finished canvas. I couldn’t even tell what it was. Maybe I didn’t care. My eyes weren’t really on the art.

They were on the way her black top clung to her waist when she stretched. On the way a single drop of sweat slid down the side of her neck.

She didn’t look at me. Not even when I stopped just a few feet behind her.

So I cleared my throat.

Lame.

She didn’t turn. Just said, “You again.”

Her voice was teasing. Daring.

Like she expected me to trip over myself just trying to talk to her.

And I almost did.

I laughed under my breath. “You’ve been haunting my schedule.”

She finally glanced over her shoulder lips curved, eyebrow raised.

“You call creeping around outside convenience stores and art studios a ‘schedule’?”

Ouch.

I scratched the back of my neck, flustered. “Technically, this time I was invited.”

“Technically,” she mimicked, brushing a streak of paint off her arm. “Still staring.”

“I’m just admiring the… work.”

“Mm.” Her eyes slid back to her canvas. “You mean my work, or what I’m wearing while I’m doing it?”

Busted.

Again.

I smiled slow and lazy then took a small step closer. Just enough for her to feel the shift.

“That outfit’s not helping me focus, if I’m being honest.”

That made her laugh a soft, low sound that went straight to my bloodstream.

She dipped her brush in black paint, dragged it across the canvas, then looked back at me this time full-on.

“Flirting with high school girls now?”

I froze.

Shit.

“Wait Are you still in ?”

She cut me off with a shake of her head. “Graduated last month.”

My breath came out in relief. “Oh thank God. I was about to handcuff myself.”

She smirked. “You’re not off the hook. You did follow me twice.”

“Coincidentally,” I said, holding up my hands. “Totally unplanned. Universe’s fault.”

“Sure,” she said. “So what now, universe boy?”

I stepped in again close enough to smell her vanilla shampoo and faint traces of turpentine.

“I think the universe wants your number.”

She raised a brow. “The universe or you?”

“…Me.”

Her eyes flicked down to my mouth and back up.

Then she smiled.

Not soft. Not shy.

But dangerous.

“Say please.”

I exhaled a quiet laugh, heart hammering in my chest.

“Please.”

And just like that, she reached for my phone and typed it in herself.

Saved her name as “Creepy Girl 🎨”.

I bit my lip. “That’s not fair. I’m the one who was called creepy first.”

She handed me my phone, eyes sparkling. “Exactly.”

Then she turned back to her canvas like I hadn’t just completely melted inside my hoodie.

Damn.

I was so screwed.

━━━━⊱⋆⊰━━━━

Chapter 5:

11:42 p.m.

I should’ve been asleep.

But there she was her name lighting up my phone like a fuse waiting to go off.

Creepy Girl 🎨:

Was that you on that billboard in Gangnam? Because the guy looked familiar. And hot. But mostly familiar.

I grinned at my screen, lying on my back, arm slung over my forehead. Shirtless. Too warm. Too awake.

I typed back:

Me.

Depends. Was he tall, charming, and helplessly obsessed with an art girl in black shorts?

Read.

Typing…

Creepy Girl 🎨:

No, I think he looked like he’d fall in love if she so much as tied her hair up again.

I blinked, heart stuttering.

She knew what she was doing.

I sat up, cracking my knuckles, suddenly very, very alert.

Me:

You tying it up now just to mess with me?

Creepy Girl 🎨:

Would you behave if I said yes?

I laughed low and wrecked and let my thumb hover over the keyboard for a moment before replying.

Me:

Absolutely not.

The three dots danced again. Stopped.

Started.

Creepy Girl 🎨:

I was painting again tonight. Still wearing that same black top. But no shorts this time.It’s hot.

My throat went dry.

Me:

Y/N…

She replied instantly.

Creepy Girl 🎨:

What? You’re the one who started this.

Me:

And I’ll finish it. But in person.

Pause.

No reply. For a moment, I thought I crossed a line.

Then

**Creepy Girl 🎨**:

Then come see the painting tomorrow. I’ll be wearing something hotter. Maybe nothing at all.

My jaw clenched. I stared at the screen like it might catch fire in my hand.

Me:

You’re gonna kill me.

Creepy Girl 🎨:

Then die like a man. I’ll leave the studio door unlocked.

I dropped the phone onto my chest and dragged a hand over my face, completely and utterly undone.

This girl wasn’t just messing with me.

She was devouring me.

And God help me

I liked it.

━━━━⊱⋆⊰━━━━

Chapter 6:

I told myself not to come.

I told myself this was a bad idea.

But the second she said “I’ll leave the door unlocked,” I was already figuring out what time to get there.

2:47 p.m.

Quiet. Warm. The small private studio was tucked at the far end of the building, behind frosted glass and white brick. I’d been here once before for some promotional shoot but now it felt completely different.

Now it was hers.

The door was, in fact, unlocked.

And when I pushed it open, I almost forgot how to breathe.

She was standing with her back to me.

Messy ponytail again. Paintbrush in hand.

Wearing a loose white men’s shirt thin, sheer in the sunlight, the bottom barely skimming the tops of her thighs. No pants. No shorts. Just… long legs, bare skin, and danger.

She was humming something under her breath, completely lost in whatever she was creating on the canvas in front of her.

I shut the door behind me. Soft.

But she heard it anyway.

Without turning around, she said, “You came.”

I swallowed. Hard.

“I said I would.”

“Didn’t think you’d be brave enough to walk in.”

“I’m more scared of not seeing you again.”

That made her turn.

Slow. Deliberate. Like she already knew what she was doing to me.

The front of the shirt was barely buttoned. A deep V. Hints of skin. A sliver of a black bra strap slipping off her shoulder. Bare thighs. Paint smudged across her hand. A teasing little smile.

“Still think this is just a coincidence, Chanyeol?”

“No,” I breathed, stepping closer. “This is a setup.”

“You walked into it willingly.”

I nodded, eyes locked on her mouth. “You’re dangerous.”

“You’re slow,” she whispered. “I’ve been waiting for you to touch me since that first night.”

That did it.

I moved.

One hand on the small of her back. The other gripping the edge of that damn shirt, tugging her against me. She gasped not afraid, not hesitant just breathless, like she’d been holding it in too long.

Her body melted into mine like she fit. My mouth hovered just above hers.

“Tell me to stop,” I said.

She shook her head. “I’d rather tell you where to touch.”

Fuck.

I pressed her against the wall gently, but with intent. Our lips so close they shared breath, but didn’t meet yet. I wanted her to feel it the ache, the pull, the gravity.

“You paint like this every day?” I rasped, eyes dragging down her exposed skin.

“Only when I want someone to watch.”

“You knew I’d come.”

She smiled. “You’re predictable.”

“And you’re cruel.”

She leaned up lips grazing mine. Barely. A whisper. “Then do something about it.”

My hand slid down the curve of her waist, fingers tracing the hem of the shirt, slipping just under, onto bare skin. She arched against me, soft, warm, and maddening.

And just before I kissed her

She whispered, “Close the blinds.”

I grinned.

“I plan to.”

I closed the blinds slowly. Not because I was unsure but because I wanted to draw this out.

To feel her eyes on me while I did it.

To hear the shift in her breath when the last sliver of sunlight disappeared and we were left in soft, golden shadows and silence.

She didn’t move.

Still leaning against the wall, shirt clinging to her like temptation itself, hair falling loose around her shoulders now.

Watching me like I was her next painting or maybe the mess she wanted to make.

When I turned back, she was biting her lip.

“You look nervous,” she teased.

“Not nervous.” My voice was lower now. Rough. “Just trying to make sure I remember this.”

“Why?”

“In case you don’t let me do it again.”

She smiled slow and sinful. “Oh, you’re doing it again.”

I crossed the room in two strides and kissed her like I meant it.

Because I did.

Our mouths collided, and it was fire. Not soft. Not sweet. Desperate. Raw. All that built-up tension crashing like a wave. Her hands fisted in my hoodie, pulling me closer. Mine slipped beneath the hem of her shirt, palms gliding over the warm skin of her waist, her back, her hips.

She gasped into the kiss as I lifted her slightly, pinning her gently against the wall with my body. Her legs wrapped around me without hesitation, bare skin grazing my jeans, igniting every nerve.

Her lips broke from mine just enough to breathe against my ear.

“I’m not as fragile as I look, Chanyeol.”

“I figured that out the second you said ‘Say please.’”

She laughed a low, wicked sound and tugged the hoodie over my head, her fingers dragging down my chest like she’d been waiting to touch me.

“You’re hotter in person,” she whispered.

I slid the shirt off one shoulder, then the other, until it fell open completely. My hands roamed over her back, memorizing the way her body curved, the way she arched into me when my lips traced the side of her neck.

“You sure you’re not dreaming?” I murmured against her skin.

“If I was, I wouldn’t be wearing this much.”

Challenge accepted.

The shirt slipped to the floor. She was in a black bra, barely there, delicate and completely unfair. My hands found her thighs, parted them, touched up and in and closer until her head tipped back against the wall and she moaned my name soft, breathless, unfiltered.

My name.

From her lips.

Like that.

I was wrecked.

She pulled me down onto the floor with her, bodies tangled on the studio’s paint-stained rug, kissing between gasps, touches turning rougher, slower, needier.

And when her hand reached for the button on my jeans, I caught her wrist and met her eyes.

“Tell me what you want,” I said. “Out loud.”

She didn’t even blink.

“I want you,” she whispered. “Right here. Right now. I want you to stop holding back.”

That was it.

Whatever control I had left? Gone.

The second she said, "I want you," something inside me snapped.

She lay beneath me now, warm and wild, skin flushed and eyes daring me to keep going. Her fingers pulled at my waistband while her legs locked around me, holding me there like she couldn’t stand the idea of even an inch between us.

“Y/N,” I murmured against her throat. “Say it again.”

Her voice was breathy, raw. “I want you.”

I kissed her jaw. Her neck. Down the soft skin of her collarbone. Her body arched under me like instinct, back lifting, chest rising into my mouth as I tasted along the swell of her bra slow and purposeful, letting her feel every second.

She whimpered. One hand tangled in my hair, the other sliding down my bare back, nails dragging.

“You’re killing me,” she whispered.

“Good,” I growled, my voice rougher now, shaking with restraint. “You’ve been killing me since day one.”

Clothes disappeared between gasps and fumbling hands. The shirt she wore, tossed aside. My jeans, undone and gone. Every touch was electric her skin under my hands, the way her breath hitched when I kissed lower, the way she trembled when I pressed against her with nothing left between us.

She was so soft. So warm. Every part of her inviting me closer, deeper.

Our eyes met.

No teasing now.

Just heat. Need. Honesty.

“You still sure?” I asked, fingers tracing her hip.

She nodded once, serious now. “Please.”

It was the same word from the first day but this time, it wasn’t a game. This time, it was real.

I slid into her slowly, carefully, and her gasp broke into a moan that shot straight through me. Her arms clung to my shoulders, her nails biting into my skin as her head fell back, lips parted.

“God, Chanyeol—”

I kissed her to swallow her cry, moving with her, building a rhythm, every thrust deeper, every sound louder.

The studio filled with her moans, my gritted breaths, the soft creak of the floor beneath us. Her paint-stained hands on my back, my mouth on every inch of her skin.

She whispered my name like a secret, over and over again, until it wasn’t a word just a plea.

We lost track of time.

Just skin and heat and breath.

And the way she said, “Don’t stop.”

I didn’t.

Not until she cried out beneath me, her body arching, trembling, tightening. I followed, burying my face in her neck, arms wrapped around her, completely undone.

When it was over, we stayed there tangled, sweaty, breathless.

She was still beneath me, chest rising fast, cheeks flushed.

I brushed hair off her forehead and pressed a kiss there. She didn’t speak.

Neither did I.

Because whatever that just was…

It wasn’t just physical.

It wasn’t just tension.

It was something else.

And it scared the hell out of me.

━━━━⊱⋆⊰━━━━

Chapter 7:

His breath was still warm against my neck.

His chest pressed to mine, heartbeat frantic like mine. His arm stayed wrapped around me even though the heat was starting to settle into a softer kind of warmth.

It was quiet now.

No teasing.

No tension.

Just the sound of our breathing and my fingers slowly tracing circles on his bare back.

We didn’t speak.

He didn’t move.

I could feel his hesitation not regret, not guilt but that very specific kind of stillness that comes after everything changes.

Because it had changed.

I felt it in the way he kissed me.

Not just hungry. Not just hot.

But careful. Like he didn’t want to mess it up.

He shifted slightly and rested his forehead against mine. Eyes still closed.

“You okay?” he murmured.

I nodded. “More than okay.”

He finally opened his eyes dark and soft, lips pink from kissing, hair messy from my hands.

“I should say something,” he said, voice husky.

“You don’t have to.”

“No,” he whispered. “I want to.”

He sat up a little, brushing his fingers down my arm. We were still a mess tangled limbs, clothes scattered across the paint-splattered floor, the scent of oil paint and skin clinging to the air.

“I didn’t think this would happen,” he admitted.

“Because you didn’t plan to show up?”

“Because I didn’t think you’d want me.”

That made me sit up too. The blanket we'd pulled over ourselves slipped down my shoulders, but I didn’t bother covering up. Not in front of him. Not after what we’d just done.

“I noticed you from the very first day,” I said quietly. “But you didn’t say anything.”

He gave a guilty half-smile. “I was staring. Like a creep.”

“Yeah,” I teased, leaning in closer. “You were.”

He caught my waist and pulled me into his lap again, skin to skin. My heart stuttered a little, but I let him. I liked how big his hands felt on my body. How gentle his eyes were, even after everything we’d just done.

“So what now?” I asked.

Chanyeol’s fingers brushed a loose strand of hair behind my ear.

“Now,” he said softly, “I take you on a date.”

I blinked. “You want to go backward after all this?”

He laughed, low and warm, and leaned his forehead against mine again.

“I want everything. The backwards. The forwards. The in-betweens. I want to paint you breakfast. I want to show you my demo tracks. I want to kiss you without walls around us.”

That shut me up.

My chest tightened not in fear, but something way more dangerous.

Hope.

“You sound serious,” I whispered.

“I am.”

I looked at him. Really looked.

And in that quiet moment, I realized I was already in trouble.

Because Park Chanyeol wasn’t just hot.

He wasn’t just the guy who kissed like fire.

He was the one who saw me, even when I wasn’t trying to be seen.

And he was looking at me like he wasn’t going anywhere.

━━━━⊱⋆⊰━━━━

Chapter 8:

POV: Y/N

I hadn’t been this nervous to pick out an outfit in… ever.

It wasn’t like I hadn’t just been naked with him, body-to-body on a studio floor, whispering things that made my skin heat up even now.

But this was different.

This was a date.

And that meant I had to pretend to be normal around a man who made breathing feel optional.

I settled on something simple black jeans that hugged my hips, a soft, fitted top with an open back, and sneakers that didn’t scream trying too hard.

My phone buzzed.

Chanyeol

I’m outside. Also, I’m trying to play it cool but I’ve been parked for 6 minutes just staring at my steering wheel like a loser. Help.

I smiled. My cheeks already hurt.

I grabbed my bag and headed out.

Sure enough, there he was leaning against the hood of a sleek black car, ripped jeans, white tee under an open flannel, hair styled perfectly messy. Tall, broad, and slightly fidgety. When he saw me, he straightened immediately, biting back a grin.

“You’re late,” he said.

“I was choosing between looking hot or breathable. You’re welcome.”

“I vote both.” He opened the passenger door for me like a goddamn gentleman. “Buckle up, heartbreaker.”

The drive was calm. Music low. Windows down.

He took me to a tucked-away rooftop café with twinkling string lights and a view of the Han River. Not too crowded, not too exposed. The kind of place you could forget the world existed.

We sat across from each other, knees brushing under the table.

The conversation flowed easier than I expected.

We talked about everything how he got into music, how I fell in love with painting, our weirdest habits (he sleeps with socks on sometimes, which I judged harshly), our favorite snacks (we both had a secret addiction to spicy ramen at midnight).

But it wasn’t just the talking.

It was the way he kept looking at me.

Like I was art.

Like he still couldn’t believe I was real.

And every time I caught him doing it, he didn’t look away. He just smiled, slow and smug, until I had to hide behind my iced latte to cool down.

“Why are you staring?” I asked once, halfway through dinner.

“I’m memorizing,” he said, no hesitation.

I blinked. “That’s illegal.”

He laughed. “Good. Arrest me.”

Later, we wandered down to the riverwalk. The night was breezy, calm, Seoul glittering behind us. Chanyeol reached for my hand hesitant at first but when I laced my fingers with his, he squeezed gently like he didn’t want to let go.

We stopped near a quiet railing. The water reflected the stars, and his shoulder brushed mine when he turned to look at me.

“Can I kiss you again?” he asked, low.

“You already have,” I whispered.

“This one’s different.”

And it was.

Soft. Slow. Like a promise.

My hands curled into the front of his shirt, his fingers brushed along my jaw. The kiss was gentle, but it stole every ounce of breath from my lungs.

We pulled back eventually. Just barely.

“I’m screwed, huh?” I murmured, resting my forehead against his.

He chuckled. “So am I.”

━━━━⊱⋆⊰━━━━

Chapter 9:

We sat side by side on the edge of the riverwalk, our feet dangling over the concrete, heads tilted toward the city lights. It was quiet. A few cars in the distance, the soft splash of water below.

The kind of night where everything feels slower. Softer. Honest.

Chanyeol leaned back on his hands, fingers brushing mine every now and then, like he couldn’t stop himself even if he tried.

“So,” he said, glancing over. “Tell me something I don’t know.”

I thought for a moment. “Like… fun fact or lifelong trauma?”

“Either,” he grinned. “Dealer’s choice.”

I smirked. “Okay. First kiss?”

He groaned dramatically. “We’re starting there?”

“C’mon. You first.”

He sighed, eyes squinting up at the sky like it held the memory. “Seventh grade. Behind the school gym. She had gum in her mouth. I panicked and swallowed it.”

I laughed so hard I nearly choked. “You didn’t.”

“I did. I thought I was gonna die. I walked around for an hour convinced it would block my stomach forever.”

I grinned. “You poor idiot.”

“Your turn.”

I tucked my hair behind my ear. “Mine was… quieter. First year of high school. We were both too shy to say anything, so we just sort of… leaned in. No gum. Just chapstick.”

He smiled at that. A soft, real one.

“First relationship?” I asked.

“Training years,” he said. “Hard to balance anything when your schedule belongs to someone else. I dated one girl seriously, but it faded out. We were both too busy pretending to be fine.”

I nodded. I understood that too well.

“I had a boyfriend for two years,” I said. “We started dating when I was sixteen. He was older.”

“How much older?”

I hesitated, then laughed. “Not as much older as you.”

He blinked. “Wait, how old are you?”

I gave him a wicked little smile. “Guess.”

He studied me, biting his lip.

“Twenty-two?”

“Wrong.”

“Twenty-one?”

I shook my head.

“Y/N—”

“Nineteen.”

His eyes widened. “You’re What?”

“Relax,” I said, chuckling. “I’m legal. Barely. But legal.”

He covered his face with both hands. “Oh my God. I’m going to hell.”

I bumped his shoulder. “You already kissed me. Slept with me. There’s no backing out now.”

He groaned. “I feel so much older.”

“How old are you again?”

“...Twenty-Six.”

I raised a brow. “7 years.”

“Exactly ten,” he said. “This is illegal in some K-dramas.”

I snorted. “Well, good thing this isn’t one.”

He looked at me, eyes serious now. “Does that… bother you?”

I shook my head. “Not even a little.”

Because it didn’t.

He didn’t *feel* ten years older not in any of the ways that mattered. We talked the same, laughed at the same weird stuff, shared the same obsession with music and art and late-night convenience store snacks.

“So,” he said, after a beat. “What did you study in school?”

“I’m still doing it,” I smiled. “I’m majoring in Fine Arts. I want to illustrate and paint full-time someday.”

“Obviously. You’re insanely talented.”

I gave him a little look. “You’ve only seen half a painting and me in a shirt that barely covers anything.”

“And it was the best art I’ve ever seen.”

I nudged him with my elbow.

“What about family?” he asked, more carefully now. “You close with yours?”

I nodded slowly. “Very. My mom used to be a runway model. Like, seriously stunning. She walked in Paris before I was born.”

He looked me over. “So that’s where you got it from.”

I blushed. “My dad’s the more chill one. He’s the reason I learned to drive at sixteen. He taught me how to handle the wheel before I could reach the pedals.”

Chanyeol whistled. “Impressive. What do you drive?”

“Don’t laugh,” I warned. “But I’m obsessed with cars. Like… obsessed.”

He laughed. “Wait really?”

I nodded. “I like engines. And going fast. It’s a problem.”

“You’re literally cooler than everyone I’ve ever dated.”

I grinned. “You haven’t even heard me play guitar yet.”

He froze. “You play?”

I nodded. “Acoustic mostly. Started when I was twelve. My dad had this old beat-up Takamine that became mine.”

Chanyeol looked at me like I’d just told him I had superpowers. “You. Paint. Drive fast. Play guitar. And you look like that.”

I tilted my head. “Is that a problem?”

“It’s a threat.”

We both laughed, but it faded slowly, the silence that followed more comfortable than empty. The kind of silence that came after knowing someone just a little too well, too fast.

“You forgot one thing,” he said after a while.

“What?”

“Your favorite color.”

I smiled. “Blue.”

He nodded. “Same.”

And maybe it was the night air, or the river, or the warmth of his hand that found mine again…

But in that moment, I realized I wasn’t just falling for him.

I was already halfway there.

━━━━⊱⋆⊰━━━━

Chapter 10:

The invitation came the next night, after midnight.

Chanyeol

I can’t sleep. Wanna come to the studio? It’s quiet. Just us. Bring your guitar.

I stared at the message for a moment, then grabbed my case and my hoodie, heart thudding in my chest.

SM’s private studio floor felt like a dream empty corridors, soundproofed doors, and the faint scent of coffee and music cables. He met me by the elevator, hoodie pulled over his messy hair, smile soft.

“You really came,” he said.

“You really asked.”

He reached for my guitar case without hesitation, slinging it over his shoulder with practiced ease. “This thing’s heavier than it looks. What, is it made of oak and magic?”

“Something like that,” I smiled.

He led me into a studio tucked in the corner not too big, but warm, with glowing orange light from the floor lamps and scattered sound panels lining the walls. One mic stood in the center, surrounded by guitars and keyboards and a couch with a half-eaten bag of chips on the armrest.

“This is where the good stuff happens,” he said, setting my case down gently. “Where I mess up melodies at 3 a.m. and try to pretend it’s intentional.”

I laughed, pulling my guitar out and settling on the couch.

He took a seat beside me, close but not too close. Just enough that our knees brushed.

“I’ve been writing something,” he said. “But I didn’t like it until I imagined your voice in it.”

That sentence alone made my chest tighten.

He picked up a pad, scribbled a few chords, then handed it to me.

I looked it over. Soft fingerpicking. Key of D. Lyrics about open windows, breathing someone in, and feeling understood without words.

“This is beautiful,” I whispered.

“You haven’t even heard it yet.”

“I don’t need to.”

We started slow.

I played first, fingers finding the rhythm like second nature. He joined in after a beat, harmonizing with me like we’d done this a hundred times. Our voices met in the middle his low, smooth, grounded; mine soft, rising, like light through a curtain.

By the second verse, we weren’t reading the sheet anymore.

We were looking at each other.

Smiling at the same spots.

Laughing through a missed note.

At one point, he scooted closer behind me, arms brushing mine as he helped adjust my fingers on a chord. His voice was right at my ear warm, calm.

“Try the seventh here instead. Just a little lift.”

“Like this?” I played it again, and he nodded.

“Perfect,” he said, but he wasn’t looking at my hands.

He was looking at me.

The song ended naturally no dramatic final chord, just a fading strum and a silence filled with electricity.

I let the guitar rest on my lap and turned to face him.

He was already watching me.

“You’re scary good,” he said softly.

I tilted my head. “So are you.”

“No, I mean… you’re so many things. And every time I think I’ve figured you out, you show me another version of you that I want to know more.”

My heart fluttered painfully.

“Chanyeol—”

“Sorry,” he said, shaking his head like he didn’t mean to say that out loud.

But I reached for his hand before he could retreat.

“I feel it too,” I said. “Whatever this is.”

His fingers curled into mine.

And there it was again that silence.

Not awkward. Not uncertain.

Just the space between two people who hadn’t kissed yet tonight but probably would in the next breath.

He leaned in.

I met him halfway.

And this time, the kiss was slower. Deeper. Less fire, more feeling.

When we pulled away, neither of us said anything.

The guitar lay quietly between us, strings still warm from our hands.

And the song…

The song wasn’t finished.

But something else had started.

We were still sitting on the couch close, too close the ghost of a kiss still lingering between us. My guitar rested on the floor. His fingers were tracing circles on my knee without even realizing it. Neither of us had said anything for a while.

It was… perfect. Quiet. Real.

Then

BANG.

The studio door flew open.

“Yeol, are you here? Your car’s still in the”

Baekhyun froze in the doorway.

We froze on the couch.

His eyes darted between the two of us my flushed cheeks, Chanyeol’s very casual arm half around my waist, the total lack of space between our legs.

“Oh.” He smirked. “OHHHHHH.”

Chanyeol groaned audibly, already leaning forward to bury his face in his hands. “Bro, no”

“Oh my God,” Baekhyun laughed, stepping into the room with way too much energy for the hour. “What is this? Studio jam session or secret date with a gorgeous girl?”

I blinked, still frozen.

He turned to me, grinning. “Hi. I’m Baekhyun. EXO’s favorite troublemaker. And you… wow. You’re stunning. Are you real?”

I blinked again. “Um… hi?”

He mock-staggered back. “And polite, too. Yeol, you’re winning.”

Chanyeol finally lifted his head, glaring daggers at him. “Can you not?”

“No, I can’t. I walk in on one steamy musical soulmate moment and suddenly I’m the villain?” Baekhyun dropped onto the spare chair dramatically. “Tell me everything. What’s her name? Where did you meet? Why wasn’t I invited to the wedding?”

“We’re not” Chanyeol started, but Baekhyun cut him off.

“Oh, come on. I haven’t seen you look like this in years. You’re glowing. She’s glowing. There’s a guitar on the floor like someone dropped it during a kiss”

“I dropped it gently,” I muttered.

Baekhyun laughed out loud, clapping. “She’s funny, too?! Chanyeol, you’re screwed.”

“I know,” Chanyeol groaned.

But I couldn’t help smiling.

Baekhyun might’ve barged in like a tornado, but… he wasn’t wrong.

We were glowing.

We were something.

And apparently, not even EXO’s loudest member could ignore it.

Baekhyun finally stood, stretching. “I’ll leave you two lovebirds alone before I say something that gets me kicked out. But seriously…” he turned to me one last time “…you’re gorgeous. Like, model-in-a-dream gorgeous. Be gentle with our tall boy, yeah?”

I felt heat rise to my cheeks. “I’ll try.”

Chanyeol made a strangled noise behind me.

And then Baekhyun was gone whistling obnoxiously all the way down the hall.

The door clicked shut.

Silence again.

I turned slowly to face Chanyeol.

“He’s… lively.”

“That was tame for Baekhyun,” he muttered. “I’m sorry. He’s chaos.”

“It’s fine.” I laughed. “Honestly? I kind of liked him.”

Chanyeol looked at me, his eyes still bright from embarrassment, and shook his head.

“I’m never going to hear the end of this.”

“But at least,” I teased, nudging his thigh with mine, “he thinks your mystery girl is gorgeous.”

He leaned in closer, that familiar crooked grin returning. “He’s not wrong.”

And this time, the kiss that followed was slow and sure like we didn’t care who walked in next.

[loeyshine]

The First Time I Saw You

Epoch Book

•*⁀➷pairing: chanyeol x fem reader

Theme: brother’s bandmate, lovers au, silent admiring, unsaid feelings. “We weren’t supposed to fall not like this, not here but in the quiet moments and stolen glances, we became something real.”

Description: She was the sister he wasn’t supposed to notice, and he was the man she never expected to feel safe with. But between stolen glances, hushed confessions, and a love that bloomed in silence, they found each other in the most forbidden corners of fate tender, raw, and breathtakingly real.

Playlist: when i met you — apo hiking society

Chapter 1:

POV: Chanyeol

The roar of the crowd still echoed in my ears, even as we made our way backstage. Our Seoul concert was always special home, comfort, a kind of magic I could never put into words. Sweat clung to my neck, my lungs still catching up to the adrenaline. I was tired, but the good kind.

I threw my arm around Baekhyun’s shoulder as we walked through the curtain, the staff clapping and cheering for us like we were still onstage. Jongin was already stripping off his jacket, panting like a dog, and Suho-hyung was being pulled aside by a familiar-looking woman probably a coordi-noona.

Then I saw her.

Standing just a little behind the crew, leaning slightly against the wall, holding a small bouquet of white tulips. Black jeans, oversized beige sweater, long hair cascading down her back. She looked comfortable almost like she belonged here but I knew every face in this room. Hers wasn’t one of them.

She tilted her head when Suho noticed her.

And then he smiled. That wide, rare kind of smile he only wore around people he truly loved. The kind that softened his leader lines and made him look like a kid again.

“Y/N!” he said. “You came!”

Y/N.

Wait… Y/N?

I paused mid-step.

Suho-hyung’s sister? The one studying abroad? The one who rarely ever showed up at our dorms or events?

She laughed softly and ran into his arms, the bouquet bouncing in her grip. I caught a glimpse of her face, and something inside me just paused.

I’ve never believed in clichés like time slowing down or fireworks exploding in your chest. But something about her her eyes, her laugh, the way she held onto Suho like she hadn’t seen him in years made me stop in my tracks.

She was beautiful, yes, but it wasn’t just that.

It was the warmth she brought into the room without even trying.

It was the way Suho turned soft around her, like she was the only person in the world who could bring out his older-brother side like that.

I realized then, I was staring.

“Yah, Chanyeol,” Baekhyun elbowed me. “You okay?”

I blinked, nodded slowly. “Yeah… who’s that?”

Baekhyun followed my gaze, snorted. “That’s Y/N. Suho-hyung’s younger sister. She just flew in. You’ve never met her?”

“No.” I swallowed. “But… I think I want to.”

A few minutes passed. I busied myself with a water bottle, checking my phone, pretending not to sneak glances across the room. She was chatting with Sehun now, comfortably, like she’d known him forever. She had this calm aura, like nothing phased her. People were naturally drawn to her. Me included.

Finally, Suho motioned her over. “Y/N, come here. There’s someone I want you to meet.”

My heart picked up for no good reason. I tried to look relaxed.

She turned to me.

Her eyes met mine.

And it hit me harder than I expected those eyes. Curious. Clear. Like they were already reading me.

“This is Chanyeol,” Suho said. “One of the members. You’ve probably seen him onstage.”

She smiled politely and extended a hand. “Hi, Chanyeol. Good show.”

Her voice was soft. Melodic. Like a song I hadn’t heard in a long time but somehow remembered.

I shook her hand, feeling a little ridiculous at how warm my face felt.

“Thanks,” I said, struggling to sound casual. “I didn’t know Suho-hyung had such a cool sister.”

She raised an eyebrow, smirking. “Is that a line you use on all the members’ sisters?”

I blinked. Then laughed.

Okay. She had a sharp tongue.

And I was already hooked.

━━━━⊱⋆⊰━━━━

Chapter 1:

Y/N’s POV

I hadn’t set foot in Seoul for nearly two years. University abroad had taken over my life midterms, late-night ramen, the gray drizzle of European skies. And yet, the moment I stepped backstage at the EXO concert, it felt like I had never left.

The energy was electric. Staff buzzed like bees, members stumbled in with soaked shirts and glowing smiles, and I almost didn’t notice my brother until he shouted my name.

“Y/N! You came!”

I grinned. “Of course I did, oppa. You think I’d miss a sold-out Seoul Dome concert?”

He hugged me tightly, and for a moment, it felt like we were kids again before EXO, before the training, before the world knew his name.

I caught up with a few members I recognized Sehun, Baekhyun and exchanged light jokes. But then… there was one I didn’t recognize. Or maybe I did, vaguely. Tall. Unreasonably tall. Messy dark hair, and eyes that somehow looked too intense for a man who just performed for thousands.

He was staring.

I felt it before I even looked at him directly.

So I did what I do best smiled like I wasn’t fazed. Walked like I belonged here. And pretended I didn’t just feel something weird and heavy twist in my stomach the second our eyes met.

“Y/N, come here,” my brother called. “There’s someone I want you to meet.”

I stepped closer, still holding the bouquet for him in one hand.

“This is Chanyeol. One of the members. You’ve probably seen him onstage.”

I turned toward him and wow.

He was… something else up close.

Up close, he looked less like an idol and more like a story I hadn’t heard yet.

“Hi, Chanyeol. Good show.” I offered my hand.

He hesitated just for a second before taking it. His palm was warm and a little rough, like he played guitar or something. His fingers lingered, almost like he was afraid to let go.

“I didn’t know Suho-hyung had such a cool sister,” he said with a half-smile.

I narrowed my eyes playfully. “Is that a line you use on all the members’ sisters?”

He laughed, and I swear it was the kind of laugh that cracked into your ribs and stayed there.

Maybe Seoul was going to be more interesting than I thought.

Chanyeol’s POV

She was quick. Witty. The kind of person who didn’t let you get away with smooth lines, but still smiled like she appreciated the effort.

I’d met a lot of people in this industry actors, models, fellow idols. But Y/N felt different. There was no pretense. No need to impress. She just… was.

And that made me want to know her even more.

After the introductions faded, I found myself hovering near her without even realizing it. She leaned against the wall again, scrolling through her phone, waiting for Suho. Her eyes flicked up, met mine for a second.

“You always hover like this, or am I special?” she said without looking up this time.

I laughed. “You’re special.”

She raised her brows, clearly surprised I admitted it so easily. “That was fast.”

I shrugged. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen someone walk into a backstage room full of idols and still manage to steal all the attention.”

She rolled her eyes, but her smile deepened just a little. That was a win.

“I think that’s just your perception, Chanyeol.”

I leaned against the wall beside her. “Maybe. But I’m pretty sure I’m not the only one who noticed you.”

She tilted her head. “Is that a warning or a compliment?”

I looked at her really looked. “It’s an observation. And maybe… a beginning.”

She blinked. For a second, her composure cracked. Just a little.

And in that moment, I decided something quietly to myself.

I wanted to see her again.

━━━━⊱⋆⊰━━━━

Chapter 2:

POV: Y/N

I wasn’t expecting the EXO dorm to be so… normal.

For a group of global superstars, their place felt surprisingly lived-in. Shoes piled by the door, random hoodies slung over chairs, and the comforting smell of ramyeon floating from the kitchen. The boys were gathered on the floor playing some chaotic card game, yelling like it was a war zone.

“Y/N-noona!” Sehun shouted when I walked in. “You’re finally here. Save me, I’m losing.”

“I’m not taking sides,” I laughed, stepping over Kyungsoo’s crossed legs. “But you should’ve known better than to challenge Baekhyun.”

“Damn right,” Baekhyun grinned, flashing his cards like a magician.

Chanyeol was across the room, strumming a quiet rhythm on his guitar while half-watching the game. He gave me a small smile softer than last time. Not as playful. Like something had shifted.

I smiled back, settling onto the couch.

It felt easy, natural. Like I’d known them longer than a week.

An hour passed like five minutes. The boys shouted. Kyungsoo burned someone with a deadpan comment. Suho handed me a soda and told me to “keep the boys in check,” which made me laugh because… has he met them?

At some point, Baekhyun flopped onto the couch beside me, holding his phone.

“So,” he said in a teasing whisper. “Be honest. Which one of us is your favorite?”

“You want me to choose between you and your chaos army?” I whispered back.

He nudged me. “Come on. I’ll tell you a secret if you do.”

I rolled my eyes. “Fine. It’s… you. Only because you keep feeding me snacks.”

“Yesss,” he hissed in victory. “Okay, now my turn.”

He leaned in close and lowered his voice. “So… does your boyfriend know you’re hanging around a bunch of dangerous idols?”

I snorted. “He doesn’t care. Long-distance problems.”

“Ah,” Baekhyun nodded knowingly. “The mystery man. Suho-hyung said you don’t talk much about him.”

“Because there’s nothing exciting to say,” I muttered, pulling my hair into a bun. “We’re fine. It’s just… you know how some relationships feel more like routine than romance?”

He gave me a look. “You sound like you’re talking about a job.”

“Exactly.” I chuckled softly. “Safe. Predictable. But sometimes I wonder…”

“You wonder what?” he asked curiously.

I shrugged. “If I’m really happy or just comfortable.”

Baekhyun didn’t say anything, just gave a thoughtful hum. We went quiet for a few beats. Then the game on the floor exploded again and someone yelled about someone else cheating.

That was when I noticed it.

A shadow near the hallway.

I looked over and saw Chanyeol.

He wasn’t playing guitar anymore. He wasn’t even pretending to be distracted. He was just… standing there, like he’d been walking by and accidentally caught our whole conversation.

He looked calm on the outside, unreadable even, but his eyes those eyes were darker than before. Like something had closed behind them.

I gave a small, polite smile, but he only gave me a quick nod before heading past us, disappearing down the hallway toward the shared bedrooms.

Something in my chest sank.

Later That Night

Chanyeol’s POV (Brief Interlude)

“Hyung,” I said, catching Suho in the kitchen while he washed a mug. My voice was steady, but my stomach was doing somersaults.

“Hm?”

“Y/N… She has a boyfriend?”

He looked up, surprised by the question. “Yeah. She’s been dating someone since before she left for school abroad. Why?”

I opened my mouth to say nothing, but I couldn’t bring myself to lie. Not to him.

“I just thought she was single.”

He paused, drying the mug slowly. “Did something happen?”

I shook my head. “No. Not really.”

But my heart disagreed.

━━━━⊱⋆⊰━━━━

Chapter 3

Something felt… off.

It started the next day. Or maybe it had already started that night at the dorm, when I caught a glimpse of Chanyeol disappearing down the hallway after overhearing my conversation with Baekhyun. I didn’t think much of it then, but now… I couldn’t un-feel the shift.

We’d all planned to hang out again after the concert hype died down a casual lunch near the Han River, some fresh air, a break from idol life. The boys were still loud and ridiculous, as always. Jongdae had somehow roped two old ladies into giving him food, and Baekhyun was throwing chips at Sehun for no reason.

But Chanyeol…

He barely spoke to me.

Not in a rude way. Not even cold, really. Just distant. Careful. Like he was drawing a quiet, invisible line between us that hadn’t been there before.

He smiled when I joked around. Laughed when the others laughed. But when I looked at him directly nothing. His eyes didn’t linger. His energy didn’t pull toward me the way it had backstage, when it felt like the air hummed between us.

I told myself I was imagining things.

I had no right to be bothered by it. He was my brother’s bandmate, a guy I barely knew, someone I’d exchanged maybe five minutes of real conversation with. So why did I feel like something was missing?

Why did the silence from him feel louder than all the chaos around me?

I tried to play it cool. I really did.

But I caught myself watching him when he wasn’t looking. Noticing how he laughed with Baekhyun, how he leaned back on the bench with his guitar pick spinning between his fingers. And I kept remembering how his voice had sounded when he told me I was “special.”

God. Why did that stick with me?

“Earth to Y/N,” Suho said suddenly, nudging my side with a water bottle. “You okay?”

“Huh? Oh yeah. Sorry. Zoned out.”

“You’ve been zoning out a lot today,” he said with narrowed eyes. “Jet lag?”

“Maybe.” I gave a half-smile. “Just tired.”

But I wasn’t tired.

I was confused.

Confused why I cared that a man I barely knew was acting different. Confused by the weird little sting in my chest when he spoke to everyone except me. Confused that I suddenly remembered every word he said to me like it was tattooed somewhere beneath my skin.

And most of all, confused that someone noticing me really seeing me for a second had somehow made me feel more alive than my actual boyfriend had in months.

Later That Night

Back at the apartment I was crashing in, I sat on the bed with my knees pulled up to my chest, scrolling through Instagram without seeing anything. My phone buzzed a message from my boyfriend.

┃ “Missed your call. Will call you tomorrow maybe? Crazy schedule atm. Love you.”

It wasn’t mean. It wasn’t cold. Just distant. Predictable. Routine.

I stared at the message for a while.

Then, without thinking, I typed a new one. Not to him.

To Baekhyun.

┃“Hey. Just wondering… did I do something wrong to Chanyeol?”

A pause.

Then three dots.

┃“No. You didn’t. He just… found out about something. Give him time, yeah?”

I frowned. Found out?

Found out what?

Then it hit me.

The conversation. The one Baekhyun and I had at the dorm.

He must’ve overheard it.

And suddenly, all the puzzle pieces started to fall into place and the picture they formed made my heart feel complicated.

Very, very complicated.

━━━━⊱⋆⊰━━━━

Chapter 4:

The boys had a rare free afternoon, and somehow, that turned into an impromptu hangout at a rooftop BBQ spot Baekhyun swore was “life-changing.” Suho let me tag along again, and honestly, I didn’t even hesitate.

Something about being around them their energy, their humor, their weird inside jokes felt grounding. Like I was back in Seoul for a reason I couldn’t explain yet.

But even as we laughed and passed grilled meat across the table, I still felt his presence.

Chanyeol.

He was there. Sitting across from me. Polite. Casual. Saying all the right things.

But I could tell.

He wasn’t really there.

His smile didn’t quite reach his eyes. His jokes felt rehearsed, like he was fulfilling some unspoken obligation to not make things awkward. And I wanted to ask him why.

I wanted to say: I didn’t lie to you. You just heard something you weren’t supposed to.

But I didn’t.

Because I didn’t even know what I was feeling myself.

Just as I was reaching for a lettuce wrap, my phone buzzed. A familiar name lit up the screen.

Boyfriend.

I froze for half a second. Then stood up, forcing a neutral smile. “Sorry, guys. I’ll be right back.”

“Tell your boyfriend we say hi!” Baekhyun teased, mouth full of pork belly.

I shot him a glare and ducked away toward the far end of the rooftop, near the potted plants and string lights.

“Hey,” I answered quietly.

“Hey, finally,” came his voice tired, distracted. “Sorry I’ve been so MIA. Work’s been insane.”

“It’s okay,” I said softly, sitting on a bench. “I figured.”

“I miss you, though. Feels weird not having you here.”

I smiled faintly. “I miss you too.”

We talked for a few more minutes. It was fine. Routine. Sweet, in a distant sort of way. He told me about work, about a client meeting gone wrong. I laughed when he used that sarcastic tone he always had. But still… it felt like I was watching the call from the outside.

I didn’t know someone was watching me.

Chanyeol’s POV (Brief Interlude)

I didn’t mean to overhear.

Honestly, I didn’t.

I’d just gone to refill my drink. Walked past the side area of the rooftop, half-tuned into Sehun’s dumb story about spilling cola on stage… and then I saw her.

Y/N.

Sitting on that bench with her phone pressed to her ear, her head tilted gently to the side, laughing softly at something someone said on the other end. That smile…

It wasn’t the one she wore with us.

It was gentler. Private. Real.

She looked happy.

And I hated how much that messed with me.

I clenched the drink cup a little tighter, forcing myself to look away before she saw me.

I had no right to feel like this.

But that didn’t stop me from feeling it anyway.

Y/N’s POV (Continued)

I ended the call with a quiet “talk to you soon,” and sat there for a moment afterward, letting the silence wrap around me.

I didn’t feel the way I thought I should after talking to someone I supposedly missed.

I sighed, then stood up, smoothing my shirt as I headed back toward the table.

The others were joking around like nothing had changed. But something in the air felt different to me.

Or maybe it was just me.

And as I took my seat again, I swore I felt eyes on me but when I looked up, Chanyeol was staring hard at the grill, tongs in hand, focused like he was about to perform surgery on a sausage.

Still, I could feel it.

That wall between us wasn’t just growing anymore.

It was getting taller.

━━━━⊱⋆⊰━━━━

Chapter 5:

POV: Chanyeol

She laughed again.

And it was killing me.

Not because it wasn’t a beautiful sound it was. God, it was.

But because it didn’t belong to me. It belonged to someone else.

She’d been gone maybe ten minutes, taking that call, and I’d spent every second of it trying not to look like I was unraveling.

I hated how much I noticed her now. The way she tucked her hair behind her ear when she was focused. The way her fingers danced on her drink cup while she listened. The way her voice dropped a little softer when she was talking to him.

I’d never envied a voice on the other side of a phone so much in my life.

And when she came back to the table, smiling like nothing had changed, all I could do was flip another piece of meat on the grill and pretend I wasn’t already lost in something I couldn’t have.

Later that night, after we dropped her off and the guys passed out one by one in the dorm, I sat alone in the living room.

Guitar on my lap.

TV off.

Room dark, except for the city lights bleeding in through the window.

I played a few quiet chords nothing planned. Just whatever fell from my hands. Music had always been the place I dumped everything I couldn’t say out loud. But lately, not even music felt like enough.

Suho came in at some point, rubbing his eyes. “You’re still up?”

“Couldn’t sleep.”

He sat across from me, stretching his legs. “Y/N asked about you.”

That made my fingers freeze.

“She did?”

“Yeah,” he said slowly. “She asked if she did something wrong. If you’re avoiding her.”

I looked down at the guitar. “I’m not.”

“Then what’s going on with you?”

I didn’t answer.

Because if I said it if I said her name in that way then I couldn’t take it back. And Suho was my hyung. Her brother. One of my closest friends. Saying it would break too many lines.

But it was getting harder to pretend.

“I just… didn’t expect her to get under my skin like this,” I said quietly. “She’s different. And I hate that I noticed.”

Suho didn’t say anything for a moment.

Then: “She’s not trying to get under your skin. She’s just being herself.”

“I know.”

“And she has a boyfriend.”

“I know.”

That part hurt more than it should.

“She’s not… mine,” I said, mostly to myself. “So why does it feel like she is when she’s around?”

Suho sighed. “Maybe because for a second, she could’ve been. If you’d met her before he did.”

I looked up at him.

“I’m not mad,” he added. “Just don’t drag her into something messy.”

“I wouldn’t do that.”

“I know.” He stood up, giving me a long look. “But hearts don’t care what we’d ‘never do,’ Chanyeol. They do what they want.”

━━━━⊱⋆⊰━━━━

Chapter 6:

POV: Y/N

It was quiet on the other end of the phone.

Too quiet.

The kind of silence that happens when something is ending and both people know it.

“…So that’s it?” I said, my voice barely holding together.

“I don’t want to drag this out, Y/N,” he said. “We’ve both felt it, haven’t we? We’ve been drifting for a long time.”

I closed my eyes. “You don’t even want to try anymore?”

He sighed. “I think we stopped trying a while ago.”

There it was.

The last crack before the dam broke.

I said goodbye with a choked whisper, ended the call, and just stood there in the cold night air on a street corner near the Han River, where I’d gone to “get some air” but ended up getting my heart cracked open instead.

The tears came before I could stop them.

Not loud. Not dramatic.

Just quiet and endless, like everything I’d been holding in was finally allowed to spill.

I turned away from the sidewalk, not wanting to be seen. My hands trembled as I wiped my face, trying to breathe, trying to stop but it just kept coming.

I started walking. No destination. Just… anywhere that wasn’t here.

And then

I crashed into someone.

Hard.

“Oh—sorry, I—” I froze. My breath caught in my throat.

Chanyeol.

Tall, warm, wide-eyed Chanyeol, with a bag slung over one shoulder, earbuds hanging from his hoodie. He had clearly just left the studio or something. He looked just as surprised to see me.

And worse… he saw the tears.

“Y/N?”

I quickly turned my face away. “It’s nothing.”

“Wait hey.” His voice lowered. “You’re crying.”

“I said it’s nothing,” I mumbled, stepping back. “I have to go, really—”

I didn’t get far.

Because he reached out.

And pulled me into him.

No hesitation.

No words.

Just a long, solid, grounding hug that knocked the air from my lungs.

I froze at first. My heart beating like crazy in my chest.

And then…

I broke.

My hands clutched his hoodie, my head buried against his shoulder, and I cried. Really cried. Like I hadn’t let myself in months. All of it came crashing out frustration, guilt, sadness, confusion.

He didn’t say anything.

He didn’t need to.

He just held me tighter. His arms warm and strong and sure. One hand gently cradled the back of my head, like he wanted to protect me from everything in the world especially myself.

After a while, I finally managed to whisper, “We broke up.”

Chanyeol nodded slightly, still holding me.

“I’m sorry,” he murmured. “But if it’s any comfort… you deserve so much better than someone who didn’t see you clearly.”

Those words broke something new in me.

Because I knew he meant it.

And for the first time in weeks, I didn’t feel alone.

I felt… safe.

━━━━⊱⋆⊰━━━━

Chapter 7:

It had been three days since the breakup.

Three days since I’d broken down in Chanyeol’s arms.

Three days since I cried so hard I thought I’d never be able to look him in the eye again.

And yet, somehow, every time I thought about it… I didn’t feel embarrassed. I just remembered how warm his hoodie was. How tight his grip was around me. How I didn’t feel the need to pretend.

He never told anyone what happened.

But something had shifted.

In him.

In me.

In the air between us.

I’d barely said a word to Suho about it. I didn’t want to deal with big-brother-mode or awkward overprotection. So when the EXO dorm invited me over for dinner again, I hesitated. But I went. I told myself it was just a casual thing, like always.

But of course, nothing ever stays casual for long with eight curious boys and one nosy best friend in the room.

“Where’s your boyfriend?” Sehun asked halfway through dinner, mid-bite.

I froze.

Baekhyun visibly winced. Jongdae gave Sehun a look like you idiot.

Suho glanced at me sharply.

I swallowed. “He’s not… in the picture anymore.”

The table fell quiet for a second.

“Wait, what?” Sehun blinked. “You two broke up?”

“Sehun,” Kyungsoo muttered. “Shut up.”

But it was too late.

Suho set down his chopsticks. “When did this happen?”

I sighed and kept my eyes on the plate. “A few days ago.”

“You didn’t tell me.”

“Because I didn’t want to talk about it.” My voice came out sharper than I meant.

Suho frowned. “Y/N, you’re my sister. You can’t just—”

“I’m fine, oppa. Really.”

“Are you?”

Everyone was watching now. I could feel the tension radiating from the table like heat.

Especially from one direction.

Chanyeol hadn’t said a word.

He sat stiffly beside Baekhyun, staring at his plate like it had answers. I risked a glance his way and in that brief moment, I caught it.

That look in his eyes.

Like he was holding something back.

Like he knew more than he was supposed to.

Like he remembered everything.

Suho turned his attention to Chanyeol suddenly. “Did you know?”

Chanyeol froze. “What?”

“You were out late that night,” Suho said. “You said you bumped into her. Did she say anything?”

There was a long pause.

The room was dead silent.

I held my breath.

Chanyeol finally looked up. Straight at Suho. Then at me.

And then he lied.

“…No. She didn’t say anything.”

My stomach twisted.

Not because he lied.

But because he did it to protect me.

To protect us.

Even if “us” didn’t really exist yet.

Later, after dinner, Baekhyun quietly pulled me aside as the others cleaned up.

“You okay?”

“Yeah,” I lied.

“You don’t look okay.”

I shrugged. “Just… tired.”

He glanced toward the living room where Chanyeol sat on the couch, pretending to scroll through his phone.

“I think he’s the one who’s tired, Y/N,” Baekhyun said softly. “Tired of pretending.”

That made my chest ache.

I didn’t reply.

Because I wasn’t ready to admit that maybe…

I was tired of pretending, too.

━━━━⊱⋆⊰━━━━

Chapter 8:

I hadn’t planned to stay late.

But Suho fell asleep on the couch mid-movie, Baekhyun disappeared into his room for a game night with Jongin, and slowly, the rest of EXO trickled off into the quiet comfort of the dorm’s walls.

Except one person.

Chanyeol.

He was in the kitchen when I stepped out to grab a drink. Back turned, hoodie sleeves pushed up, quietly rinsing dishes without being asked. For a guy who radiated noise and chaos on stage, he was surprisingly quiet in real life.

Too quiet.

I lingered in the doorway, unsure if I should go back. But something about the way he stood there, shoulders stiff, like he was holding more than just plates in his hands… I couldn’t walk away.

So I stepped forward.

“Want help?” I asked.

He looked up, a little startled. “Oh uh, no. I’m almost done.”

I opened the fridge anyway and grabbed a water bottle. For a second, all I could hear was the faucet running.

Then I blurted, “Thank you.”

He glanced at me. “For what?”

“For the other night.”

His eyes searched mine. Carefully. Slowly. “You don’t have to thank me for that.”

“I do,” I said quietly. “Because you saw me falling apart and you didn’t ask for anything. You just… held me. Like it was okay to break.”

He turned off the faucet.

The kitchen fell into soft silence.

“You were okay to break,” he said. “I just… I wanted you to feel safe enough to do it.”

Something about that hit too deep. Too fast.

I looked down at the bottle in my hand. “I didn’t tell Suho.”

“I know,” he said gently. “I didn’t either.”

A beat passed.

Then another.

Then he said it.

“Y/N…”

I looked up.

He hesitated. His mouth opened, then closed. Then opened again.

“Do you ever wonder if… maybe all of this happened for a reason?”

My heart stuttered. “What do you mean?”

He took a slow step closer.

And then another.

And suddenly, he was close enough that I could feel his warmth smell the faint scent of his cologne, something woodsy and clean and far too comforting.

“Your breakup,” he said quietly. “Me… seeing you that night. You showing up in our lives like you dropped out of the sky.”

My throat went dry. “Why are you saying this?”

“Because I’m tired of pretending I don’t feel something every time you walk into the room.”

My breath caught.

“Chanyeol…”

“I know it’s messy. And I know I’m the last person who should feel this way especially with Suho watching like a hawk.” He let out a bitter laugh. “But I can’t turn it off. I’ve tried.”

I didn’t move.

I couldn’t.

Because my heart was beating too loudly in my ears. Because my mind was spinning. Because deep down, I knew…

I’d felt it too.

That shift. That gravity.

The problem was I wasn’t sure if I was ready to face it.

So I whispered, “It’s only been a few days.”

Chanyeol nodded. He stepped back, just slightly. Enough to give me air. Enough to give me space to run if I needed to.

“I know,” he said softly. “I’m not asking you to figure it out right now.”

He looked down, then back up at me eyes dark, warm, and honest.

“I just needed you to know.”

And with that, he walked past me. Gently. Slowly.

And left me standing in the kitchen with my heart in my throat.

━━━━⊱⋆⊰━━━━

Chapter 9:

I didn’t sleep that night.

Not really.

Every time I closed my eyes, I saw him standing in that quiet kitchen, his voice low and unshakably sincere.

┃“I just needed you to know.”

And now I did.

The problem was, I didn’t know what to do with it.

My chest was a storm of thoughts. I kept replaying the moment in my head, over and over, like it would make things clearer. Like I’d suddenly know what to feel.

But all I knew was this:

Chanyeol wasn’t just some harmless crush anymore.

He wasn’t just my brother’s bandmate.

He wasn’t just comfort.

He was… something else now.

And the worst part? I wasn’t sure when that happened.

The next day, I needed to breathe. To process. So I called the one person who definitely saw more than he ever commented on.

“Baek?”

“Mmm?” he answered, a little groggy. “Is this the ‘come get coffee with me before I spiral’ kind of call?”

“…Yes.”

He sighed dramatically. “I’m in.”

We sat at a quiet little café tucked in a corner of Mapo. No fans. No cameras. Just me, Baekhyun, and two oversized iced Americanos.

I tried to find the right words. But Baekhyun, of course, beat me to it.

“It’s about Chanyeol, isn’t it?”

My eyes widened. “How did you—”

“I have eyes. And a brain. And ears.” He sipped. “Honestly, the way you two orbit each other is almost exhausting to watch.”

I groaned. “It wasn’t supposed to get this complicated.”

“He told you something, didn’t he?”

I nodded slowly. “Last night. After everyone went to sleep.”

Baekhyun raised an eyebrow. “Oh?”

“Not like that.” I blushed. “We were just talking. In the kitchen.”

He gave me a knowing smirk but let it go.

I exhaled. “He said he’s tired of pretending he doesn’t feel something every time I’m in the room.”

Baekhyun went quiet. For once.

“I didn’t know what to say,” I admitted. “I mean, I’m still figuring out what I feel. I just got out of something. And now… this.”

“And how do you feel?” he asked, voice softer now.

“I don’t know.” I looked down. “I know he makes me feel safe. And seen. And… like I don’t have to be anyone other than me.”

“That sounds like a pretty good start.”

“It scares me.”

Baekhyun nodded. “That’s how you know it matters.”

I glanced at him. “What if Suho finds out?”

He gave me a small smile. “You think your brother hasn’t noticed? He’s a leader, not blind.”

“…He’s gonna kill us.”

“Possibly.” Baekhyun shrugged. “But he’ll get over it if it’s real. And if Chanyeol’s the one who catches you when you fall… I think even Suho can’t argue with that.”

I looked out the window, watching the city blur past.

Part of me still felt tangled. Lost.

But another part the quietest part was starting to wonder if maybe this wasn’t so complicated after all.

Maybe it was just the beginning of something that finally made sense.

━━━━⊱⋆⊰━━━━

Chapter 10:

The air was electric the moment we piled into the van.

It was supposed to be a casual day out just some fresh air, laughter, and forgetting all the tangled feelings for a few hours. But with all of us together, under the same roof, the quiet undercurrent was impossible to ignore.

Chanyeol sat across from me, arms folded, eyes flicking sideways like he was ready to jump out if things got too intense.

I felt it too. That pull between us unsaid, unclaimed, but there.

Baekhyun plopped down next to me, grinning like he knew exactly what was going on. “Relax,” he whispered. “Today’s about fun. And maybe a little chaos.”

I smiled weakly. Easier said than done.

At the café, Sehun was already teasing me about my “ex” like he’d just uncovered a scandal.

“Seriously, Y/N, you’re free now. What’s stopping you?” he grinned.

Before I could answer, Chanyeol’s voice cut through from across the table.

“Yeah, Y/N. What’s stopping you?”

Everyone turned. I blinked. His eyes were locked on mine steady, daring.

Heat rushed up my neck.

I opened my mouth, but Baekhyun beat me to it. “Chanyeol, chill. You’re not the only one allowed to ask questions.”

Chanyeol smirked. “I’m just making conversation.”

But I caught the flicker in his eyes the smallest edge of something more.

Later, at the park, I caught Chanyeol watching me talk to my phone, probably texting my boyfriend except I wasn’t.

I was texting my best friend, spilling everything. The breakup, the confession, the fear, the hope.

He saw me smile at the screen.

And then he saw it crack.

A moment later, Baekhyun nudged him and whispered something.

Chanyeol’s jaw tightened.

As the sun dipped low, we sat on the steps outside the dorm, the city buzzing softly around us.

Chanyeol’s hand brushed mine not quite a touch, but close enough to send sparks.

I glanced at him, heart pounding.

His voice was low. “You don’t have to pretend with me.”

I swallowed. “I’m scared.”

He gave me a small, understanding smile. “Me too.”

And then, like the walls holding everything back finally crumbled, his hand found mine fully.

The world didn’t explode.

But it felt like it might.

━━━━⊱⋆⊰━━━━

Chapter 11:

The evening was winding down. The city lights flickered softly around us, and for a brief moment, everything felt peaceful like maybe the chaos had finally settled.

Chanyeol’s hand was still wrapped around mine, warm and steady.

I was starting to believe maybe this could work. Maybe we could figure it out. Maybe this complicated, tangled mess could become something real.

And then the door slammed open.

“Y/N? Chanyeol?”

Suho’s voice cut through the quiet like a thunderclap.

We jumped apart instantly me stumbling back, heart racing, cheeks burning.

Suho’s eyes narrowed as he took in the scene: our hands still inches apart, flushed faces, the silence heavy between us.

“Care to explain what’s going on here?” he asked, voice low but firm.

I opened my mouth, but no words came.

Chanyeol stepped forward, shoulders squared.

“Hyung,” he started, “I didn’t mean for you to find out like this…”

Suho cut him off, eyes sharp but not angry. “I’m not mad. I’m surprised. And honestly, a little relieved you both finally stopped hiding.”

My breath hitched. “Suho…”

He smiled gentle but serious. “Y/N, you’re my sister. I want you to be happy. And if Chanyeol’s the one who can do that, then I trust you.”

I blinked, stunned.

Chanyeol looked at Suho like he’d just won a battle he thought he’d never face.

The tension broke, replaced by something softer. Realer.

For the first time, I felt like maybe we could all navigate this together.

It was late. The rest of the members had already gone to bed, their laughter and footsteps fading down the hallway.

But Chanyeol and I stayed behind, sitting close on the couch in the quiet living room of the dorm.

My heart was pounding so loudly I was sure he could hear it.

He looked at me really looked at me like I was the only person in the world.

“I’ve wanted to say this for a while,” he began, voice soft but steady. “Since the night I first saw you backstage. I felt something… I don’t know how to explain it. But it’s real.”

I swallowed hard. “Me too.”

His hand found mine again, fingers intertwining with a gentleness that made me want to melt.

“Y/N,” he whispered, leaning in just a little. “I don’t want to pretend anymore.”

Neither did I.

So I closed the space between us.

Our lips met in a kiss that was soft at first hesitant, sweet, filled with everything we’d both been holding back.

And then it deepened, full of promise and relief.

Like finally, after all the confusion, everything had fallen into place.

When we pulled apart, his forehead rested against mine, breath mingling.

“I’m glad it’s you,” I said quietly.

“Me too,” he smiled.

And in that moment, I knew this was only the beginning.

━━━━⊱⋆⊰━━━━

Chapter 12:

The days after that night felt like waking up from a dream. Suddenly, Chanyeol was more than just my brother’s bandmate or the guy who made my heart race backstage. He was mine. And I was his.

We moved carefully at first, stealing glances across the dorm, sharing smiles that only we understood. His hand in mine became a quiet promise.

But nothing stays quiet for long with EXO.

The first to notice was Baekhyun. We were hanging out in the living room when he smirked at me, eyebrow raised.

“So,” he said casually, “you and Chanyeol… what’s going on?”

I flushed, ready to deny or dodge, but Baekhyun just grinned wider.

“Don’t worry, I’m on your side. But don’t make me work too hard to tease you.”

I laughed, relieved to have his support.

Later that week, Suho called me aside.

“Are you happy?” he asked quietly, eyes searching mine.

“More than I thought I could be,” I admitted.

He smiled, sincere and warm. “I trust you, Y/N. And I trust Chanyeol.”

That meant more to me than I could say.

Chanyeol, meanwhile, struggled a bit more.

Behind his easygoing smile, he was fiercely protective sometimes too much.

Once, when I accidentally brushed hands with another member during a group game, he shot me a look so sharp it made me nervous.

Later, he caught me alone.

“Hey,” he said softly, “I know I need to trust you. I’m trying.”

I nodded, squeezing his hand. “Me too.”

The other members started teasing us openly, but it was all in good fun. Jongin would nudge Chanyeol and whisper, “You got lucky, hyung.” Sehun gave me playful side-eyes, and even Suho joined in sometimes, laughing like only a protective older brother can.

Despite the teasing, there was an unspoken support beneath it all.

One night, as we sat on the rooftop looking over Seoul’s glittering skyline, Chanyeol wrapped his arm around me.

“I want to take this slow,” he said.

“Me too.”

His voice dropped, earnest and deep. “But no matter what happens, I’m here. With you.”

I leaned into him, feeling the steady beat of his heart.

And I knew whatever came next, we’d face it together.

━━━━⊱⋆⊰━━━━

Chapter 13: Final Chapter

Morning sunlight spilled through the curtains, casting soft golden streaks across the room. I blinked awake, a quiet warmth curled around me Chanyeol’s arm draped protectively over my waist, fingers lightly tracing lazy patterns on my skin.

I stayed still for a moment, just breathing him in, feeling the steady rhythm of his heartbeat beneath my fingertips.

“Good morning,” he murmured, eyes still closed but smiling.

“Morning,” I whispered back, reaching up to brush his hair away from his forehead.

He sighed contentedly, pulling me a little closer.

Breakfast was simple noodles and eggs but with Chanyeol, even the simplest things felt special. We joked over steaming bowls, stealing bites and laughing at our terrible chopstick skills.

When he teased me for making a mess, I retaliated by flicking a noodle at his nose, which earned a goofy grin and a mock scowl.

Later, we wandered through a quiet park near the dorm, hand in hand.

Chanyeol pulled me close beneath a canopy of cherry blossoms, petals drifting around us like soft confetti.

We talked about everything and nothing plans, dreams, silly jokes.

He stopped suddenly, turning to face me.

“Y/N, I still can’t believe how lucky I am.”

I smiled, my heart swelling. “Me too.”

Back at the dorm, as the afternoon sun dipped low, we curled up on the couch, heads resting together, the hum of the city outside like a lullaby.

No grand gestures. No big confessions.

Just two people learning how to be together in the quiet, beautiful moments that felt like home.

[loeyshine]

nobody:

absolutely no one:

not a single soul:

chanyeol fic writers: his EARS are BIG

[loeyshine]

The Way I Loved You

Epitome Book

•*⁀➷pairing: chanyeol x fem reader

Theme: teenage nostalgia, romance angst, exes to lovers again, unsaid love, perfect relationship. “You're so in love that you act insane and that's the way I loved you”

Description: his love? respectful, comforting, and safe. But yours? intoxicating, rebellious, loud. He is totally perfect, but I wish I knew that you were always the perfect one for me.

Playlist: the way i loved you — taylor swift

Chapter 1: Picture-Perfect

Everyone says I’m lucky.

Jisoo is the perfect boyfriend. He picks me up for school in his spotless car, brings me flowers “just because,” and always texts back within minutes. He listens patiently, even when I ramble about things like nail polish shades and my cat’s weird obsession with cucumbers.

And he never yells. Never slams a door. Never breaks plans. He’s steady. Safe. A dream boyfriend, according to every girl in school.

But sometimes, in the middle of a perfect date, my heart aches for something else.

For someone else.

Someone who wasn’t perfect.

But made me feel alive.

━━━━⊱⋆⊰━━━━

Chapter 2: Lightning and Thunder

His name still burns like a melody in my chest.

Chanyeol.

He was the boy your parents warned you about. The lead guitarist in the school band, late to class, quick with a joke and even quicker with a wink. He smelled like peppermint gum and rebellion. His hoodie always smelled like campfire smoke and a little bit of trouble.

We weren’t the couple people expected. I was student council vice president. He got suspended twice. I color-coded my notes. He doodled dragons in his math homework.

But when we were together... the world stopped spinning in the usual way. It tilted. It rushed. He made me feel like I was standing in the middle of a thunderstorm, heart thumping, breath stolen, soaked in something too wild to define.

We laughed until we cried. Fought like fire and gasoline.

Kissed like it was the last moment on Earth.

But fire burns.

And he left. Or maybe I did.

━━━━⊱⋆⊰━━━━

Chapter 3: Memory Lane

Tonight’s the Spring Dance.

Jisoo’s tie matches my dress. He tells me I look “elegant” the exact word he used last time. He holds my hand gently, smiles at my parents, and leads me to the dance floor.

Everything is right.

But then the gym doors open.

And in walks the storm.

Chanyeol.

Leather jacket. Messy hair. A cocky smirk that hits me like a punch to the chest.

My breath catches. My hands go cold.

And just like that, I’m seventeen again, falling hard for the boy who drove me crazy and made me feel everything.

He doesn’t see me at first. But when he does

Oh God.

That half-smile.

That haunted look like he’s seeing a ghost he used to love.

━━━━⊱⋆⊰━━━━

Chapter 4: The Way I Loved You

Later, in the hallway, I find myself alone. Just for a second.

Then a voice behind me.

“You still wear lavender,” he says. “I remember.”

I turn, heart racing.

“I thought you left,” I whisper.

He shrugs. “I tried.”

We don’t touch. But the air between us feels like a live wire.

“You look good,” he adds.

“You look... like trouble,” I shoot back.

He grins. “Some things never change.”

We laugh. Just once. But it hurts, because it’s not the same.

I have Jisoo now. He doesn’t make me cry. Or scream. Or stay up all night replaying every word.

But he doesn’t make my heart race, either.

Not like this.

Not like Chanyeol.

━━━━⊱⋆⊰━━━━

Chapter 5: Goodbye Again

When I return to the gym, Jisoo hands me a drink and smiles.

I smile back.

He’s perfect. I know that.

But as we dance, my mind drifts to a boy with calloused fingers and a laugh that used to echo in my bones.

And for just one moment, I let myself remember what it was like to love someone the way I loved Chanyeol.

Wild. Reckless. Beautiful.

A little bit broken.

But mine.

━━━━⊱⋆⊰━━━━

Flashback Scene

It was raining so hard I could barely see the road, but I didn’t care.

My phone was blowing up Chanyeol (3 missed calls), Chanyeol (7 texts) each one more furious than the last.

And I was just as angry. Just as broken. Just as reckless.

I slammed open the door of the convenience store, my hair soaked and sticking to my face. And there he was.

Chanyeol.

Standing there with his hoodie dripping, his jaw tight, and his eyes stormy like the night sky outside.

"You weren’t answering," he said, voice low but shaking. "I thought something happened—"

"You think I wanted to talk to you after the way you embarrassed me in front of everyone today?"

"You embarrassed yourself, Y/N!" he shot back. "You always do this run away, act like I’m the villain, like I didn’t—"

"You yelled at me in front of your bandmates!”

"Because you were flirting with that transfer guy like I was invisible!"

"You know I wasn't!"

"Then why the hell did it feel like it?!"

We were both screaming now.

The cashier ducked behind the counter. A couple grabbing ramen paused mid-step. But we didn’t care. It was always like this. Raw. Loud. Too much.

And then, just like always, he stepped forward.

And I didn’t back away.

His hands cupped my face. His breath was ragged.

"I hate fighting with you," he whispered. "But I hate not talking to you more."

"You drive me crazy," I hissed.

"I know." His forehead pressed against mine. “But I can’t breathe without you.”

And right there, in the middle of the store, with the rain pounding behind us and our hearts still racing from the fight,

he kissed me.

Hard. Messy. Desperate

It was stupid. It was wild.

It was us.

Present Day

Jisoo never yells.

He always lets me win the argument, even when I don’t deserve to.

We never fight in public. We talk things through calmly.

He kisses my forehead, not my lips.

It’s peaceful. It’s mature. It’s healthy.

But sometimes, at 2 a.m., when he’s asleep and I’m staring at the ceiling...

I whisper your name, Chanyeol.

And curse it.

Because God, I miss screaming.

And fighting.

And kissing in the rain.

So in love that I acted insane.

Because that...

that was the way I loved you.

━━━━⊱⋆⊰━━━━

Chapter 6: Sparks Reignite

The last person I expected to see leaning against my locker on a random Thursday afternoon was Park Chanyeol.

But there he was.

Hands shoved into his jacket pockets. That same lazy, infuriating smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. Like he knew exactly what he was doing to me just by standing there.

“What do you want?” I asked, trying to keep my voice flat, my heart steady. Failing at both.

He tilted his head. “You forgot your umbrella at the dance.”

I blinked. “You came all the way here... for an umbrella?”

He shrugged. “Couldn’t sleep. Figured I’d drop it off. And maybe ask why you looked like you saw a ghost the other night.”

“I didn’t.”

“Liar.”

I hated how he could read me. Still. Like no time had passed at all.

“Don’t do this,” I muttered. “You don’t get to waltz back into my life like nothing happened.”

“You think I haven’t thought about you every goddamn day?”

My breath hitched.

“You moved on, Chanyeol.”

He stepped closer. His voice dropped lower.

“You think Jisoo makes you feel the way I did?”

I froze.

“That’s not fair.”

“Isn’t it?” His eyes burned into mine. “You’re telling me you never think about it? About us? The nights we stayed out until sunrise? The fights? The way we’d kiss after like we couldn’t breathe without each other?”

“You made me cry, Chanyeol.”

“You made me insane, Y/N. I was in love with you. I still—”

He stopped himself. Took a breath. “But maybe I just wasn’t good enough for you.”

I stared at him, my throat dry. My heart pounding like I was seventeen again, standing in the rain with tears and laughter mixing on my face.

“I’m with someone now,” I whispered.

“I know,” he said softly. “And he’s everything I never was.”

I nodded.

“But,” he added, stepping so close I could feel his warmth, “does he make you feel everything?”

The bell rang. Students surged around us. But the world blurred. There was only him.

Only the ache.

“I have to go,” I whispered.

He nodded, stepping back. But as I walked away, I heard him say it soft, wrecked, and real:

“That was the way I loved you.”

━━━━⊱⋆⊰━━━━

Chapter 7: The Last Goodbye

The air smelled like summer and endings.

Graduation caps floated in the air. Flashbulbs burst like tiny fireworks. Students laughed and cried and hugged like they were breaking apart just to be put back together again.

Jisoo held my hand, smiling proudly. “We made it,” he whispered, his thumb brushing the back of my hand.

I smiled back. “Yeah. We did.”

He leaned in, kissed my forehead. Our families were a few feet away, snapping pictures. The picture-perfect ending to the picture-perfect high school story.

But my eyes drifted past the crowd.

And found him.

Chanyeol stood alone, cap in hand, gown wrinkled, posture loose like he didn’t care that this was the end. Like he had already said goodbye to this place a long time ago.

But he looked at me.

And for a moment, the noise faded.

The tassels, the speeches, the applause gone.

It was just him. And me.

And everything we never said.

I squeezed Jisoo’s hand. “I’ll be right back,” I murmured, already walking before he could ask why.

I found Chanyeol near the back field, where the parking lot met the tree line. The place where we used to sneak out during lunch. The place where he first kissed me under the bleachers.

He didn’t say anything as I approached. Just shoved his hands in his pockets and waited.

“This is it, huh?” I said quietly. “End of everything.”

“Nah,” he said. “Just the end of high school. The rest of it... that’s just beginning.”

I laughed softly. “You always made the future sound easy.”

“It’s not,” he replied. “Especially when you’re watching the person you love walk away.”

My heart squeezed. But I didn’t move.

“I chose him,” I said gently.

“I know.” He looked away, jaw tight. “He’s good to you.”

“He is.”

There was silence. Wind in the trees. The sound of someone popping a bottle of sparkling cider in the distance.

“I want you to be happy, Y/N,” he said finally. “Even if it’s not with me.”

“I know.”

He looked at me then. Really looked. And I saw it all of it.

The love.

The regret.

The storm we never outran.

“I’ll always miss the way we loved,” I whispered, voice breaking. “Even if it wasn’t right.”

He smiled sad and soft. “It was never supposed to be forever, was it?”

“No,” I said. “But it was real.”

We didn’t hug. Didn’t kiss.

That would’ve broken me.

So I just turned away, one last time, and walked back toward the boy waiting for me. The boy who gave me peace.

And behind me, the boy who gave me fire let me go.

━━━━⊱⋆⊰━━━━

Chapter 8: A Different Kind of Silence

Four years later.

The city was loud, fast, and constantly glowing the kind of place where people wore headphones to avoid small talk and always walked like they were late for something.

I fit right in.

Twenty-two, working a corporate job I didn’t hate, in a high-rise building where everyone drank too much coffee and pretended sleep wasn’t a necessity.

Single.

Focused.

Trying to heal from a breakup that no one but me saw coming.

Jisoo and I ended quietly. No big fights. Just long silences and short conversations until it faded into something polite.

It wasn’t tragic.

Just empty.

And sometimes, I wondered if that kind of ending hurt worse.

It was raining that day. A light, steady drizzle not stormy like the nights I remembered from high school. Just soft, quiet.

I ducked into a bookstore café during lunch, desperate to escape the wet chaos outside. I grabbed a tea, pulled out my laptop, and looked up

and froze.

Across the room, in a denim jacket and a black beanie, flipping through the spine of a book with the same lazy grip I remembered too well, was Chanyeol.

He looked older. Sharper jaw. Slight stubble. A little taller, somehow.

But his eyes...

His eyes were exactly the same.

I watched him for a second too long, and when he looked up

Our eyes locked.

And just like that, the world stopped again.

━━━━⊱⋆⊰━━━━

Chapter 9: So, We Meet Again

“Y/N?” he asked, walking over, voice half-disbelieving, half-smiling.

“Chanyeol.” My voice came out smaller than I wanted it to.

He laughed under his breath, ran a hand through his hair. “You look... like someone who definitely has a LinkedIn now.”

I laughed. “And you look like someone who still forgets to bring an umbrella.”

“Guilty,” he grinned.

We sat.

At first it was casual. Safe. Talking about jobs he worked at a sound production company, freelanced for indie musicians, still played guitar. I told him about my marketing role, the pressure, the expectations.

But eventually, we slipped.

“You still write when you’re sad?” he asked quietly.

My heart stuttered. “Sometimes. You still make playlists for people you love?”

His smile faltered. “No one stuck around long enough.”

Silence.

He stirred his coffee. I stared at my tea.

“You look happy,” he said finally.

“I’m getting there,” I replied honestly. “You?”

He looked at me like he was about to say something that would ruin me. But instead, he just said,

“I’ve missed you.”

I swallowed. “We were young.”

“But it was real,” he said.

I nodded. “Yeah. It was.”

We didn’t say I still think about you.

We didn’t need to.

It was in the way he looked at me like no time had passed.

It was in the way my heart still beat out of rhythm when he smiled.

But we were adults now. The world wasn’t the same. We weren’t the same.

And yet... maybe that was the point.

━━━━⊱⋆⊰━━━━

Chapter 10: Almost, Again

We exchanged numbers.

No dramatic confessions. No promises. Just a quiet “let’s catch up sometime,” like two people pretending not to feel something bigger simmering under the surface.

But he texted me the next day.

Chanyeol:

Still thinking about that bookstore. Want to grab dinner sometime? No pressure. Just… I missed talking to you.

I stared at the screen too long before replying.

Me:

Yeah. I’d like that.

We didn’t fall into old patterns.

We didn’t pretend we hadn’t hurt each other.

Instead, we started over.

He picked a cozy ramen place tucked away in a side alley. I wore a black coat and left my hair down the way he used to like it, though I didn’t tell him that.

We talked.

About work. About music. About what it felt like to grow up and realize that not all first loves were meant to be forever... but some never really *left* you either.

There was no screaming.

No thunder.

Just him, smiling softly over his bowl, saying, “I still remember how you hate mushrooms, by the way. I ordered around them.”

My heart cracked a little at that.

Because even after all these years,

he remembered.

After dinner, we stood outside. The rain had stopped, but the pavement was still shining.

He looked at me like he wanted to say something dangerous.

“You ever think,” he murmured, “about what would’ve happened if we hadn’t let go?”

“Sometimes,” I admitted. “But we were a mess.”

“We were fire,” he corrected.

I smiled. “We almost burned each other down.”

He stepped closer. Not touching. Just near enough to feel.

“But now?” he asked. “We’re older. Wiser. Less flammable.”

I looked up at him. The boy I once loved like a storm now stood in front of me, calm. Patient.

The same heart.

But steadier hands.

“So what are we now?” I asked.

His smile was quiet. “Whatever you’re ready for.”

And for the first time in a long, long time...

I felt ready.

━━━━⊱⋆⊰━━━━

Chapter 11: Something Like a Beginning

We didn’t rush it this time.

There were no impulsive kisses in the rain, no midnight screaming matches, no dizzy makeups that blurred into messes again.

This time, Chanyeol called me after work just to hear about my day.

He sent me voice notes when I was too tired to talk. Silly ones. Soft ones.

He made playlists again only this time, they weren’t titled things like "Heartbreak Hotel" or "Songs That Make Me Think of Her."

One day, a file showed up in my inbox titled:

“for Y/N — now, not then.”

It was warm and slow, full of acoustic strings and breathy vocals. A little older, like us. A little wiser.

I sat on my apartment floor that night, my back against the couch, just listening with my eyes closed.

And I realized

I was falling in love again.

Not with the boy he used to be.

But with the man he had become.

━━━━⊱⋆⊰━━━━

Chapter 12: The First Real Date

He didn’t try to impress me.

There were no rooftop restaurants, no candlelit dinners. Just a tiny vinyl shop in Hongdae and takeout dumplings eaten on the curb outside.

“You okay sitting on the street like this?” he asked, chewing thoughtfully.

“It’s perfect,” I said.

He smiled like that meant everything.

We talked about everything and nothing.

About how he still couldn't cook to save his life. About how I was thinking of quitting my job and going freelance. About how we both liked silence now, the kind that didn’t beg to be filled.

And then, as the sun set behind the buildings and the city lit up around us,

he reached for my hand.

Not like he was claiming me.

But like he was asking.

And this time, I said yes.

━━━━⊱⋆⊰━━━━

Chapter 13: Home

It was late when he walked me home.

Outside my door, we lingered.

“I’m not gonna ask to come in,” he said, voice low. “Not yet.”

I leaned against the doorframe, my heart soft and steady.

“I know,” I whispered. “But I want to kiss you.”

He smiled.

“Then kiss me.”

So I did.

Not like before not rushed, or desperate, or like we had something to prove.

This kiss was slow. Familiar.

A breath.

A promise.

And when I pulled back, he whispered,

“I love the way we are now.”

I smiled, forehead resting against his.

“Me too.”

━━━━⊱⋆⊰━━━━

Chapter 14: The Truth He Never Said

It was a quiet Sunday.

The kind where the city moved slower. Where you stayed in soft clothes all day and shared takeout straight from the boxes.

We were sitting on my couch me curled up with my feet under his thigh, him strumming an unplugged electric guitar absentmindedly, picking out a half-finished melody.

I reached for another dumpling and tossed him a glance.

“You ever think we’d get here again?” I asked, a little teasing. “You and me, doing nothing together… and it actually feeling good?”

He chuckled. “Honestly? No. I thought you’d forget me.”

I looked at him.

“I never forgot you, Chanyeol.”

He was quiet for a second. His fingers stilled on the strings. Then:

“I never dated anyone after you.”

My hand paused midair. “What?”

He leaned back, looking up at the ceiling like he was trying to find the right words somewhere between the plaster and the shadows.

“I mean, I tried,” he admitted. “Went on a few dates. Had a couple of almost-somethings. But… I couldn’t do it.”

I sat up a little. My heart beat harder.

“Why?” I asked, voice softer than I meant.

He turned to me then. Honest. Raw. Not hiding.

“Because they weren’t you.”

The air between us shifted.

“I didn’t want a ‘peaceful love’ or a ‘safe one,’” he said quietly. “I wanted you. Even when it hurt. Even when it was messy. And after we ended... it was like nothing else fit.”

I swallowed hard. “Chanyeol…”

He gave me a crooked smile. “It’s not a guilt trip. I just… I needed you to know. Back then, I was stupid. Immature. Angry at the world. But I never stopped loving you.”

Tears burned at the corners of my eyes not out of sadness, but from the sheer weight of what he was saying.

I reached for his hand, threading my fingers through his.

“You waited for me?”

“I didn’t mean to,” he said with a soft laugh. “It just… happened.”

And in that moment, every version of us the teenage chaos, the heartbreak, the years apart folded into the space between our joined hands.

This was still love.

But now,

it was finally ready.

━━━━⊱⋆⊰━━━━

Chapter 15: The Answer Was Always You

It happened on a normal day.

No fireworks.

No audience.

Just the two of us.

We had taken a weekend trip to the coast just for a break. The kind of quiet escape where the world didn’t need us for a little while. A little seaside town where no one recognized us, and time moved gently.

On the last evening, we walked along the shore barefoot, shoes in hand, salty breeze wrapping around us like a memory.

The sun was setting all gold and pink and slow.

Chanyeol had been quiet for most of the walk, fingers brushing mine now and then. I didn’t think anything of it. We were always like that now comfortable in the silences.

Then he stopped.

Turned to face me. Eyes soft. Nervous.

I tilted my head. “What?”

He looked like he was searching for air. Or maybe courage.

“You know I’ve loved you in every version of us, right?” he said, voice low.

I blinked. My chest tightened. “Chanyeol…”

“I loved you when we were young and stupid. I loved you when you walked away. I loved you when you walked back in. And I don’t want to spend another second wondering what comes next without you in it.”

And then slowly, reverently he dropped to one knee in the sand.

My breath caught.

He didn’t pull out some fancy ring box.

Instead, he pulled out a tiny velvet pouch the kind we saw at that antique market months ago, when I pointed to a ring and said quietly, “That one looks like it knows secrets.”

He remembered.

He always did.

“I don’t need perfect,” he said, voice shaking. “I just need you.Forever, if you’ll let me.”

Tears slipped down my cheeks before I even realized I was crying.

I dropped to my knees with him, the waves just barely brushing our toes, and whispered,

“Yes. A thousand times, yes.”

He laughed, breathless with relief, and pulled me into his arms, the ring forgotten between us for a moment as he kissed me like he never wanted to let go again.

That night, we sat under a blanket on the porch of our rented cottage, watching the stars and drinking hot cocoa from mismatched mugs.

The ring felt weightless on my finger not because it wasn’t real…

But because it had always belonged there.

He looked at me with that same wild, beautiful fire in his eyes.

“I spent years wondering if I’d ever get another chance with you,” he said. “Now I’m gonna spend the rest of my life making sure I never lose it.”

I leaned my head against his shoulder, eyes closing with a smile.

“You won’t,” I whispered.

And I meant it.

Because this time,

we were ready.

━━━━⊱⋆⊰━━━━

Chapter 16: The Way I See You

(Chanyeol’s POV)

The late afternoon light filters through the living room window, casting long, lazy shadows across the floor.

I’m sitting on the couch, guitar resting against the arm, but I’m not playing.

Instead, I’m watching you.

You’re on the floor, your hair slightly messy from chasing after our little whirlwind of a daughter.

She’s laughing that pure, bubbling laugh that always fills the room and you’re tickling her, your eyes sparkling in that way that stopped my heart years ago.

There’s no script here. No stage. No audience.

Just you.

And her.

And the quiet chaos of home.

I catch the way your smile softens when she wraps tiny fingers around yours, the way you whisper something silly that makes her squeal.

I realize how much I love you not just the girl I fell for in the rain, or the woman who said yes on that beach.

But this the you I get to come home to.

You, who make ordinary moments feel like a song I want to play on repeat.

I never thought I could love someone more deeply than I did back then.

But here I am.

Falling again.

Every day.

Because you are my home.

My forever.

And the way I love you now?

It’s quiet.

It’s steady.

It’s everything.

[loeyshine]

Through the Window │Final

Epoch Book

•*⁀➷pairing: chanyeol x fem reader

Theme: dark romance, thriller, mystery, teen au, boy next door, obsessive love. "If I can't have you, no one else will."

⚠️ Trigger warning: emotional manipulation, possessive behavior, blurred consent, psychological isolation.

Description: they say I'm weird yet you came into my life, it's a silent chaos. You're perfect from head to heels and you are mine just mine.

Playlist: her - tyler, the creator

Chapter 17:

I couldn’t stop staring.

The boy who used to lurk like a shadow was suddenly impossible to ignore.

His new look was… intoxicating.

Like he’d stepped out of a dream, the kind you don’t want to wake from.

But alongside that rush of excitement, a dull ache settled in my chest.

Because this glow-up wasn’t just skin deep.

It felt like a warning.

I caught myself wondering how much of this change was for me.

Did he want me to see him this way?

Did he want the world to notice?

The hallways buzzed with whispers about him.

Friends nudged me, eyes wide. “Did you see Chanyeol? He looks so good now.”

I smiled politely but felt a knot tighten inside.

Because I knew the storm behind those calm eyes.

The same storm that made me both crave and fear him.

When our eyes met again, he gave me that softer smile.

And for a moment, I almost forgot the darkness between us.

Almost.

But then he stepped closer, voice low, “Do you like what you see?”

I swallowed hard, heart pounding.

“Yeah,” I whispered.

He smirked, a flicker of the old intensity flashing through.

“Good.”

Because beneath the new look, he was still Chanyeol.

And I was still trapped in the pull of his storm.

━━━━⊱⋆⊰━━━━

Chapter 18:

His room felt different somehow.

Not darker.

Not colder.

More... lived-in.

Like the space between us had softened, just a little.

He sat on the edge of his bed, running his fingers through that new, perfectly tousled hair of his, looking less like the storm and more like the calm before it.

I settled onto the worn rug beside him, careful not to break the silence.

For a while, we didn’t say much.

Just the faint hum of the city outside the window, and the slow rhythm of his breathing.

Then, without warning, he reached out and brushed a loose strand of hair behind my ear.

His fingers lingered.

“Did you really like the new look?” he asked softly.

I shrugged, heart racing. “Yeah. You look… different. Good different.”

He smiled, that slow, unreadable smile.

“Good.”

I caught my breath when his hand slipped over mine.

No demands. No pressure.

Just a touch that said I’m here.

For the first time in a long while, it felt like maybe just maybe we could be something other than the chaos we’d become.

But even as I let my fingers curl around his, the old tension simmered beneath.

Like a warning whispered through the quiet

Be careful what you wish for.

━━━━⊱⋆⊰━━━━

Chapter 19:

His hand still held mine, warm and steady.

After a long silence, Chanyeol finally spoke his voice quieter than usual, almost hesitant.

“You know… I wasn’t always like this,” he said, eyes fixed on our intertwined fingers. “The intense. The quiet. The storm.”

I looked up, surprised.

“What do you mean?”

He swallowed, like digging up memories he didn’t want to face.

“When I was younger… I was lost. I didn’t know how to be normal, or even if I wanted to.”

His gaze met mine, vulnerability shining through the usual intensity.

“I think… I used to think if I controlled everything around me, if I kept people at a distance, I wouldn’t get hurt.”

He gave a small, bitter smile.

“But that only made me lonelier.”

I squeezed his hand gently.

“I’m glad you told me.”

He nodded slowly, eyes searching mine like he was looking for permission.

“Sometimes, I don’t know if I’m scared of losing you… or of letting you see who I really am.”

For the first time, I saw past the walls he built.

The boy behind the storm.

And suddenly, the dangerous pull between us didn’t feel quite so terrifying.

━━━━⊱⋆⊰━━━━

Chapter 20:

The room was thick with quiet, the kind that presses against your skin and makes every breath feel electric.

His eyes dark, smoldering locked onto mine like he was memorizing every inch of me.

No words. No hesitation.

Just the weight of him moving closer, his hands tracing the curve of my jaw, tilting my face toward his.

His lips crashed against mine hungry, demanding, but careful.

Every touch burned, every breath tangled in a heat I couldn’t deny.

His hands roamed, slipping beneath my shirt, fingers skimming my skin, setting fire to every nerve ending.

“I’ve wanted you like this for so long,” he murmured against my lips, voice rough and low.

My heart hammered as he pulled my shirt over my head, exposing skin that he claimed with every kiss, every bite, every whispered promise.

His hands were everywhere firm, possessive exploring, claiming, marking.

I gasped when he lowered me back onto the bed, his body pressing down, grounding me in the storm of sensations.

There was an urgency in him, a desperate need that made me tremble.

But beneath it was something softer a fierce protectiveness, like I was the only thing that mattered.

Our breaths mingled, bodies moving together in a rhythm older than time, fierce and tender all at once.

Every touch, every sigh, every whispered name pulled us deeper until there was nothing left but us.

When it was over, he held me close, forehead resting against mine, breaths slowing, the fire fading into something warm and steady.

“I’m yours,” he whispered.

And for once, I believed him.

The world felt softer now

the sharp edges of the night softened by the slow rhythm of his heartbeat beneath my ear.

His arms wrapped around me like a shield,

warm and steady, grounding me in a way words never could.

We lay tangled in silence,

the only sound our breathing uneven, but peaceful.

I traced lazy circles on his chest,

feeling the steady thrum of life beneath my fingertips.

“Did I scare you?” he asked quietly, voice thick with a mix of hope and uncertainty.

I shook my head,

smiling softly.

“No. Not scared. Just… overwhelmed.”

He chuckled low,

nuzzling my hair.

“Me too.”

For the first time, the fierce storm inside him softened

revealing the boy who just wanted to be seen and held.

And in that quiet moment,

I realized maybe we both needed each other’s storms to find peace.

━━━━⊱⋆⊰━━━━

Chapter 21: Final Chapter

Sunlight spilled through the curtains, painting golden streaks across his room.

I woke tangled in his arms, the warmth of his body a comforting weight against mine.

Chanyeol’s breath was slow and even, his face peaceful so different from the storm I always expected.

I traced the line of his jaw, marveling at how close we were, how real this felt.

His eyes fluttered open, meeting mine with a softness that made my heart flutter.

“Morning,” he murmured, voice husky but gentle.

“Morning,” I whispered back.

For a while, we just lay there, wrapped in a silence that wasn’t empty

It was full.

Full of possibility, of fragile trust, of something new.

“About last night…” he started, hesitating.

I shook my head, cutting him off with a small smile.

“We don’t have to have all the answers yet.”

He smiled back, relief washing over his face.

“Good. Because I don’t think I’m ready to let go.”

And neither was I.

[loeyshine]

Through the Window

Epoch Book

•*⁀➷pairing: chanyeol x fem reader

Theme: dark romance, thriller, mystery, teen au, boy next door, obsessive love. "If I can't have you, no one else will."

⚠️Trigger warning: emotional manipulation, possessive behavior, blurred consent, psychological isolation.

Description: they say I’m weird yet you came into my life, it’s a silent chaos. You’re perfect from head to heels and you are mine just mine.

Playlist: her — tyler, the creator

Chapter 1:

Chanyeol POV

They moved in on a Tuesday. I remember because the sky was dull and overcast, and I was watching it from my window like I always do when I'm bored or... thinking too much.

That’s when the truck pulled up.

I wasn’t interested at first. New neighbors come and go. But then I saw her.

Y/N.

She stepped out of the passenger seat, her hair blowing in the wind, lips parted like she was breathing in the world. God, she was beautiful no, unreal. Like someone who didn’t belong on this street or in this world. Her body moved like every step was poetry, her skin glowed in the sunlight that had no business shining that day.

Every boy in the neighborhood noticed. I could hear it already. The whispers. The bets. The dumb laughter from across the street.

But I saw her first.

She walked past my window and didn't even glance. Not once. Just like the rest of the world never looking at me. But she would. Eventually. She’d have to.

That night, I sat in my room with the lights off. Her bedroom window faced mine. She didn’t have curtains yet. She didn’t know the danger.

She didn’t know me.

I watched as she unpacked boxes, danced around her room with music playing too low for me to hear. Her lips moved to lyrics I didn’t know yet but would learn soon enough. Her laugh? Quiet. Faint. Perfect.

I wrote it down.

Day 1: She laughed.

I started memorizing her schedule. When she left for school. When she got home. What hoodie she wore on cold mornings. What snacks she liked from the corner store. I followed her once. Just once.

Okay, three times.

It’s not wrong, I told myself. I’m not hurting anyone. I just need to know her. Understand her. Protect her. She’s not safe here, not with those boys staring at her like she’s something to eat.

They don’t see her like I do.

They don’t love her like I do.

She passed me once walking her little dog down the street. Her arm brushed mine.

She didn’t even look at me.

But I looked at her. And I didn’t stop. Not once.

Day 14: She has a mole on her collarbone. I love it.

She still hasn’t noticed me. Not really. Maybe she’s too sweet. Or maybe I’m too quiet. But she will. I know she will.

Because I’m the only one who sees the real her.

And one day…

She’ll see me too.

Even if I have to make her.

Day 27: She smiled at someone. It wasn’t me.

It was the guy from the corner house the one with the skateboard and the stupid bleached hair. She laughed at something he said and touched his arm. I clenched my fists so hard I left crescent moons in my palms.

But I didn’t say anything. Not yet. I’m patient. I watch. I wait.

She still doesn’t see me.

Day 30: Her curtains are up now.

It’s like she knows. Like she felt my eyes on her and decided to hide.

I’m not mad. I get it. She’s shy. But it’s fine I already know her routines. I still hear her laughter through the thin walls. I still see her when she walks home, head tilted, music in her ears.

But she’s been... restless lately.

Yesterday, she looked around as she stepped out of the house, like she felt someone behind her.

She paused.

She looked straight at my window.

And I froze.

Our eyes didn’t meet mine were hidden in the dark but she stared for a moment too long. The smallest chill ran through me.

She’s starting to notice.

Day 32: She left a light on last night. Bedroom. Dim. Just enough. Like an invitation.

I watched her brush her hair. She was wearing that oversized shirt she stole from her brother’s closet. She looked... safe. Soft. Untouchable.

And then she looked up.

Straight at me.

I flinched back, heart thundering. Did she see me?

No. Couldn’t have. The lights in her room would’ve blocked her view. Still, I didn’t sleep.

I kept hearing it. Her voice in my head.

Who’s there?

Who’s watching me?

Day 35: She knocked on my door.

I didn’t breathe. I didn’t move. I just stood there in the dark hallway, staring at the door as her soft voice called out.

“Hi... um, I’m Y/N. I just moved in next door?”

Silence.

She shifted on her feet.

“I was wondering if you’ve seen anyone… hanging around my window at night? I keep feeling like someone’s watching me.”

My throat tightened. My heart nearly exploded.

She knows.

She knows.

But not about me. Not yet. Not fully. She thinks it’s someone else. Or maybe she’s just scared of the dark.

I wanted to open the door. Tell her I’d protect her. That I’d never let anyone hurt her.

But she’d see it in my eyes. The truth. The obsession.

So I stayed silent. And eventually, she left.

Day 36: She pulled her blinds tighter. Put a chair against her door.

I watched the shadow move under the slit of light. I heard her lock click. Twice.

She’s afraid. Of what, she’s not sure.

But she’s finally thinking about me.

Not by name.

Not by face.

But by feeling.

A presence. A pressure.

A watcher in the dark.

And soon… she’ll know.

━━━━⊱⋆⊰━━━━

Chapter 2:

Y/N POV

Something’s wrong.

It started small. A chill. A flicker of movement in the corner of my eye. Like I was being watched. Like something was crawling up the back of my neck when I stood near my window.

But I brushed it off. New house, new neighborhood. My mind playing tricks.

Right?

But then I started noticing things.

My curtains weren’t always how I left them. Sometimes the left one was tugged a little more open. My door felt like it shifted slightly at night, like someone pressed their weight against it.

I started locking it.

Double-locking it.

Then there was the notebook.

It was lying at the edge of our trash bin outside. Old. Leather-bound. Someone must’ve thrown it out or maybe it blew in from somewhere else. I don’t know why I picked it up. Curiosity, I guess.

It had a list inside.

Day 1: She laughed.

Day 6: She wore the white tank top again. I watched her for three hours.

Day 10: She touched that guy’s arm. I hate him. I want to make him disappear.

Day 14: Her window was open. Her hair smells like vanilla.

My blood ran cold.

Every page was about me.

Someone had been watching me since the first day we moved in.

Every outfit. Every gesture. Every private moment.

I flipped to the back.

Day 37: She looked right at me. I think she’s starting to feel me. I like it. Fear looks good on her.

I dropped the notebook. My fingers were shaking.

That night, I couldn’t sleep. I pulled my blinds shut, turned my phone camera to face the window, recording all night.

The next morning, I checked the footage.

At 2:11 AM, the image glitched and then, in one frame, I saw a face.

Pale. Still. Eyes wide open. Not close, not in the room but outside the window. My second-story window.

I screamed.

I didn’t go to school that day. I couldn’t.

Instead, I sat by the door with a knife in my lap.

Waiting.

Watching.

There was only one person who could’ve done this.

The boy next door.

The one who never spoke. Who never smiled. Always standing in the shadows, like he was part of them. I had barely noticed him at first. Tall. Dark hoodie. Eyes like a wolf behind glass. I don’t even know his name.

But I feel him.

Watching me. Breathing near me.

He’s always there.

I told my mom. She laughed nervously. Said I was being dramatic. “Maybe it’s just one of those neighborhood kids with a crush.”

Crush?

This isn’t a crush.

This is something else.

Something that feels like it wants to possess me. Like it already thinks I belong to it.

And it’s getting closer.

Last night, I heard a voice. Not a whisper. Not in my head. A voice real, low, right outside my window.

“You’re so beautiful when you sleep.”

I didn’t scream. I just... lay frozen.

My window was locked.

But the notebook had said:

“Her lock is weak. One twist and I’ll be inside.”

I’m not safe here.

Not anymore.

And I don’t know what’s worse that he’s watching me…

Or that deep down, part of me is starting to watch him back.

To wonder when he’ll come for me.

To wonder why I’m waiting.

━━━━⊱⋆⊰━━━━

Chapter 3:

It started with a creak.

Barely audible. The kind of sound your brain wants to write off as the house settling.

But I knew better.

I was sitting on my bed, knees pulled to my chest, every light off except the dim lamp on my desk. My curtains were sealed. The knife I’d been keeping under my pillow for days now was in my lap.

I hadn’t slept.

Not really.

How could I?

Because the voice last night… it wasn’t in my head. And the figure in the video his face I’d recognized it.

My neighbor.

The boy with the haunted eyes. The one who never blinked when we passed each other. The one who stared a second too long.

He had been studying me like art.

And tonight, I knew he was going to come inside.

It was 2:03 AM.

The creak came again.

Then a soft click

I held my breath, staring at my doorknob. It didn’t move. But something had shifted.

Then I heard it.

The window.

Not mine.

The one in the kitchen.

I stood slowly, barefoot, heart slamming against my ribs. I inched toward my bedroom door, pressed my ear against the wood.

Nothing.

But the silence was wrong.

Like someone was holding their breath along with me.

I turned the lock on my door. Gently. As quietly as I could. And then I waited.

Waited for the sound of a step.

The floorboard in the hallway squeaked.

My blood ran cold.

He was here.

I backed up, nearly tripping over the edge of my bed.

He didn’t knock. He didn’t speak.

He just tried the doorknob.

Once. Twice.

And then a voice. Muffled. Rough. Too close.

“Y/N... I didn’t want to scare you.”

His voice was deeper than I imagined. Low and strangely steady.

“But you weren’t seeing me. And I’ve waited. So long.”

My knees gave a little, but I caught myself. Knife in hand.

“Leave,” I said, trying to sound firm, but my voice trembled. “I’ll call the police.”

He laughed.

Laughed.

“I disabled your Wi-Fi an hour ago. Your parents won’t wake up they’re on sleeping pills. I watched them take them. Every night at 10:34.”

My stomach turned. My whole body was shaking now.

He knew. Everything.

“I don’t want to hurt you,” he said gently. “I just want to be close. You don’t know how long I’ve waited to touch you. To be near you. You were made for me. You just don’t see it yet.”

The doorknob twisted hard.

Wood cracked.

I backed up fast, heart in my throat.

And then—the door flung open.

He stood there, silhouetted in the faint hallway light.

Tall. Dark hoodie. Eyes burning like cold fire.

He smiled.

Like this was a dream come true.

“Y/N,” he whispered, stepping inside.

I raised the knife.

He paused.

Not afraid.

Just... amused.

“You look even more perfect up close.”

━━━━⊱⋆⊰━━━━

Chapter 4:

I screamed.

Or I think I did.

Everything happened so fast. The knife in my hand, his shadow filling the doorway, the sound of my heartbeat louder than his footsteps.

And then darkness.

I jolted up with a gasp.

Light poured through my window.

My room was normal. Safe. Too quiet.

I blinked hard, sweat clinging to my skin, sheets twisted around my legs. My chest rose and fell like I’d run a marathon. My hand flew to my mouth.

My knife was gone.

There was no broken door. No boy in the hall.

Just my empty room.

A dream.

Just a dream.

I sat there for a full minute, staring at the doorknob, half-expecting it to twist again.

Nothing.

The house was still. Sunlight painted soft gold across my carpet. Birds chirped outside like nothing was wrong. Like I hadn’t just dreamed of being hunted.

I got up slowly and checked the window.

Locked.

Then the kitchen.

Locked.

My parents were making coffee downstairs like it was any other morning.

So why did everything still feel wrong?

I told myself it was my anxiety. The move. The isolation. My overactive imagination. Maybe all the crime podcasts had messed with my head.

But I couldn’t shake the feeling. The vividness. The voice. The smell of his hoodie. The sound of his breath. It felt more than real.

I went to the trash bin that afternoon.

The notebook wasn’t there.

Because maybe it never was.

Maybe I made it all up. A nightmare stitched from paranoia and stress.

I told myself I was okay.

I told myself I was safe.

Until that night.

When I went to close my curtains…

I looked across the yard.

His light was on.

My creepy next-door neighbor the one I never really noticed, the one I dreamed about breaking in.

And he was there.

Sitting by his window.

Staring straight at me.

Smiling.

And in his hand… was a notebook.

━━━━⊱⋆⊰━━━━

Chapter 5:

My mom was too excited.

“I can’t believe the neighbors invited us already!” she gushed, fixing her hair in the mirror. “It’s so rare these days. Such a warm gesture. The Park family, I think.”

My stomach dropped.

Park.

That was his name?

I hadn’t even known it until now.

I tried to stay calm. Maybe it wasn’t him. Maybe I’d imagined it all. The dream. The face. The notebook. But part of me already knew.

I’d seen him through the window too many times.

He was real.

And tonight, I was walking straight into his house.

Their house was bright. Cozy. Too normal. Warm lights, homey smell of food, polite laughter from the front door.

His mother was sweet, enthusiastic. “Welcome! Come in, come in! I’ve heard so much about you already, Y/N.”

Already?

She led us in, and I scanned the space instinctively.

And there he was.

Him.

Standing near the hallway, hands in his hoodie pockets, gaze locked on me the second I stepped in. He was taller than I remembered. Pale. Eyes unreadable. But that smile the same one from the window crept onto his lips.

“Y/N,” his mother said, “this is my son, Chanyeol.”

He stepped forward.

I froze.

He extended a hand. “Nice to finally meet you.”

His voice was just like in the dream. Deep. Calm. Almost... sweet.

I took his hand slowly, bracing myself for something a spark, a jolt, anything but all I felt was heat. His hand was warm. His grip soft. Gentle.

“I’ve seen you around,” he added. “Welcome to the neighborhood.”

Was it my imagination, or did his eyes flick to the scar on my wrist from where I’d clutched the knife that night?

“Thanks,” I replied, forcing a smile.

He didn’t let go immediately. He held on a second too long, like he wanted me to feel it.

Like he wanted to own the moment.

Dinner was… normal.

Too normal.

He barely spoke. Just sat across from me, quiet, polite. But I could feel his eyes. Like they were crawling under my skin. Watching the way I held my fork. Memorizing the way I drank from my glass.

And when our parents joked about us being the same age, about “hanging out” sometime, his lips twitched again.

“I’d like that,” he said.

I forced a laugh. “Yeah. Maybe.”

But my mind was racing.

If that was a dream... why did it all feel so real?

The voice. The door. The breath on my window.

And if it wasn’t a dream…

Why did he look at me like he remembered it, too?

After dinner, he walked us to the door.

His mom kissed my cheek, still talking cheerfully.

But Chanyeol leaned close as I stepped onto the porch.

His voice barely a whisper.

“You looked scared that night.”

My heart stopped.

I turned to him slowly.

He smiled, head tilted, eyes glinting under the porch light.

“But you were beautiful.”

━━━━⊱⋆⊰━━━━

Chapter 6:

It didn’t stop after dinner.

If anything, that night opened a door one I hadn’t meant to leave unlocked.

He started appearing.

First in subtle ways.

He passed me in the hallway at school the next day. Didn’t say a word. Just brushed close enough that his shoulder grazed mine.

His fingers tapped twice against his thigh as he passed.

Two knocks.

Like on my bedroom door.

He began sitting near me in the library. Not across from me never direct. But always in my periphery. A table behind. A few rows over. Close enough to feel.

Sometimes he hummed.

The same low, haunting hum I remembered from the dream.

Or was it a dream?

I didn’t know anymore.

My texts glitched one night.

My best friend messaged:

┃ “Who’s the guy who commented that thing on your post?”

I froze.

I hadn’t posted anything recently.

I opened the app.

It was a photo from last week. A group picture at school.

And beneath it, a new comment.

From a private account. No profile pic. No posts.

┃ “You looked cold in this. Should’ve let me keep you warm.”

My hands started to shake. I clicked the username.

No name. Just a black screen.

But the bio read:

┃ 27 nights. One window.

I blocked it.

My heart was pounding, throat tight.

But then I got a new message.

No account attached. No preview.

Just words:

┃ “Blocking me doesn’t make me disappear, Y/N.”

┃ “You already let me in once.”

He wasn’t hiding anymore.

And somehow, no one else noticed.

Not my friends. Not my parents. Not the teachers. Everyone saw Chanyeol as quiet, polite, well-mannered.

But I saw what was underneath.

I saw it in the way he watched me tie my hair back during gym class. In the way he stood too close behind me in the lunch line.

He never touched me.

But it always felt like he had.

Last night, I woke up with a chill.

My room was dark. My body was heavy.

I looked at the window.

And there on the glass was a handprint.

Pressed flat. Too large to be mine.

My heart slammed against my ribs.

I ran to the window and threw it open. Looked around. Nothing. No footsteps. No shadows.

Just the wind. And silence.

I was losing my mind. Or maybe I wasn’t.

Because tucked just beneath the sill…

Was a folded note.

In neat handwriting. Slanted. Calm.

┃ “Don’t be afraid of me.

┃ You’re the one who pulled me in.”

━━━━⊱⋆⊰━━━━

Chapter 7:

I should hate him.

Everything about this is wrong.

He’s invaded my space. Watched me like I’m prey. Stalked me, whispered through my walls, left messages like fingerprints on my brain.

But then why can’t I stop looking back?

Why do I wait for him?

I found myself standing at the window again last night.

No lights. Curtains parted. Waiting.

And like clockwork he was there.

Outside. Across the yard. Barely lit by the streetlamp. Just watching.

He didn’t move.

He didn’t wave.

But somehow, I felt the heat in his stare all the way through the glass.

And the worst part?

I didn’t shut the curtains.

I see him in my dreams now, too.

But he’s different there.

He’s softer.

His voice is a whisper in my ear. His fingers trail my skin. He says things I shouldn’t want to hear but I do. I wake up breathless. Shaken. Twisted in my sheets.

Did he put these dreams in my head?

Or were they always there?

I tried to ignore it. I tried to flirt with a boy from class. Someone safe. Normal.

He asked me to hang out.

But before I could say yes, a message appeared on my phone:

┃ “You don’t need him. He doesn’t see you like I do.”

No name. No number.

My stomach dropped.

He was watching.

Again.

And I didn’t stop it.

I just deleted the message and said no.

I passed Chanyeol in the hallway later that day.

He looked at me.

Not like a stranger.

Not like a boy next door.

Like someone who knew every inch of my silence.

He leaned in just slightly as we passed, voice brushing my skin like static:

“You dream about me too, don’t you?”

I didn’t answer.

I couldn’t.

Because the truth was starting to feel heavier than fear.

Because maybe...

Yes.

That night, I found another note.

Folded under my pillow.

No one had come into my room.

But it was there.

In the same slanted writing:

┃ “You can lie to yourself all you want, Y/N.

┃ But I already live in your head.

┃ And soon, I’ll live in your bed.”

━━━━⊱⋆⊰━━━━

Chapter 8:

I didn’t plan it.

Or maybe I did.

Maybe I’d been planning it ever since I opened the curtains instead of closing them.

Since I looked him in the eye that first night and didn’t scream.

It was past midnight.

The house was quiet parents asleep, dog curled at the foot of the stairs. The kind of stillness where even your heartbeat feels loud.

I sat on the edge of my bed, phone off, lamp dimmed.

Window open.

Just a crack.

The air was cold. It licked at my skin like a warning.

I didn’t move.

Didn’t breathe.

I just waited.

At 12:17, I heard it.

One knock. Soft. On the glass.

I turned my head slowly.

He was there.

Chanyeol.

Standing in the shadows, hoodie pulled over his head, but I’d know those eyes anywhere. Bright and burning and locked on mine.

He didn’t smile this time.

He just… waited.

Waited for me to decide.

I stood up.

Walked to the window.

Hands trembling but not with fear.

Not anymore.

I looked at him through the glass.

Then I unlocked it.

And slid it open.

Just wide enough for him to climb through.

He didn’t ask.

He didn’t hesitate.

He moved like he’d done it before. Like he belonged here. Like this moment was just the next step in a game I’d already agreed to.

And when he stood in my room, tall and quiet, I didn’t run.

I just whispered, “Why me?”

His eyes drank me in.

Like he’d been starving.

“I told you,” he said. “You let me in the first time you left your window open.”

I swallowed hard. “Was it ever just a dream?”

He stepped closer.

“No. But it made you curious, didn’t it?”

He brushed a strand of hair behind my ear, and I didn’t flinch. I hated how warm his fingers felt. How slow he moved, like he had all the time in the world to learn me.

“You were scared at first,” he murmured. “But not anymore.”

“Maybe I still am.”

“You wouldn’t have opened the window if you were.”

He leaned in.

Our faces inches apart.

He smelled like night cool air, faint cologne, danger wrapped in silk.

“I don’t want to hurt you, Y/N,” he whispered.

“But I will if someone else touches what’s mine.”

I shivered.

Not from cold.

From the way my heart didn’t protest.

From the way part of me whispered, Let him.

He sat on the edge of my bed like he’d always belonged there.

I stood, frozen, breath shallow.

And then he patted the space beside him.

I don’t know why I did it.

I don’t know if it was the silence. The obsession. The loneliness.

But I sat down.

Right next to him.

We sat in silence for a long time.

My room felt like a dream again still and tense, the air thick with something I didn’t want to name. His hoodie brushed against my bare arm. I should’ve pulled away.

But I didn’t.

Not yet.

Because I needed answers.

Because I let him in, and now I needed to understand why.

I turned toward him, voice low.

“Why me?”

He didn’t blink. He looked calm. Too calm.

“You know why.”

“No,” I said firmly, heart thudding. “I want you to say it. All of it. From the beginning.”

He tilted his head, considering.

Then: “The first night I saw you… you weren’t even looking. You stepped out of the car. And you smiled at your mom like nothing else existed. You didn’t know anyone was watching. You were just you.”

His voice darkened.

“And I knew I had to keep that. That version of you. The one before the world sinks its claws in.”

I stared.

“You watched me since that night.”

“Every night,” he admitted. “You left your window open the second day. You wore that navy tank top. You danced while unpacking boxes. You sang with your headphones in. You weren’t careful, Y/N.”

“You shouldn’t have been watching.”

“But you never closed the curtains,” he said, eyes sharpening. “You let me see you.”

My breath hitched.

“Is that how you justify it? That I... asked for it?”

He smirked. “No. I would’ve watched either way. But deep down, you didn’t stop me. You felt me there. Even before you saw me. And now look where we are.”

I stood up, voice shaking.

“You don’t get to pretend this is some twisted love story.”

“But it is,” he said quietly. “Isn’t it?”

He rose to his feet too. His height swallowed the space between us.

“You think I don’t know what those dreams did to you? You think I can’t see it in your eyes how part of you liked it? The fear, the attention, the pull. You’ve been mine since the first night you woke up sweating with my name in your head.”

I swallowed hard. “You’re insane.”

“Maybe,” he whispered. “But you still let me in.”

Silence.

He was right.

God help me he was right.

I had opened the window.

I had waited.

He stepped closer again, and this time, I put a hand on his chest.

To stop him.

Or maybe just to feel that he was real.

I didn’t know anymore.

“Tell me one thing,” I said, voice shaking. “Would you have stopped? If I’d never looked back?”

His gaze didn’t waver.

“No.”

━━━━⊱⋆⊰━━━━

Chapter 9:

After that night, everything changed.

Not publicly.

Not officially.

But we both knew what we were now.

Something sick.

Something secret.

Something I couldn't name.

He didn’t stop coming.

Every few nights, after the lights were out and the house was still, I’d unlock the window like clockwork.

And he’d be there.

No knocking anymore. He didn’t need permission.

He’d climb in silently and sit on the edge of my bed like he belonged there. Sometimes he didn’t speak at all. Just watched me.

His gaze always started at my face.

Then my neck.

Then lower.

Like he was memorizing everything for when I wasn't looking.

At first, I didn’t touch him back.

But I didn’t push him away either.

His fingers would trail up my arm slowly, pausing at the inside of my wrist where my pulse betrayed me.

Once, he pressed his mouth there and whispered, “You’re always racing when I touch you.”

I said nothing.

Because it was true.

He started leaving me notes again.

But they were different now.

More personal. More intimate.

┃ “You sleep with your hand curled near your mouth like you’re afraid of what you’ll say in your dreams.”

┃ “You hum in your sleep when you dream of me. You did last night.”

┃ Your skin tastes like fear and sugar.”

I should’ve told someone.

I should’ve screamed, run, confessed, confessed, confessed.

But I didn’t.

I kept the notes.

I reread them.

Sometimes I traced the ink with my finger before bed.

Once, I asked him, “What do you want from me?”

He looked at me like I was stupid.

“Everything.”

He touched me more boldly now.

Fingers skimming under my sleeve. Over my collarbone. Along the back of my neck. He’d lean in during those silent hours, mouth barely brushing my skin.

“You let me in,” he’d whisper. “You can’t take it back.”

And he was right.

I didn’t want to.

Not when he made me feel like the only girl in the world whose darkness was understood.

But it wasn’t just about me anymore.

Because now there was a secret. Us.

And it was starting to show.

At school, I’d flinch when someone brushed my arm because I was expecting it to be him.

I stopped hanging out after class. I stopped answering texts.

And when another boy laughed too loudly near me, I found a note in my locker that read:

┃ “Don’t let them near you. I don’t like sharing.”

One night, as he laid beside me eyes open in the dark, head resting near mine I asked:

“Are we even real?”

He turned to face me.

His voice was like smoke.

“We’re the only thing that is.”

━━━━⊱⋆⊰━━━━

Chapter 10:

It started with the dreams.

Only now, they weren’t soft or seductive.

They were violent.

I’d wake up gasping, drenched in sweat, unable to remember where I was my room? His room? Somewhere in between?

In my dreams, he didn’t knock anymore. He didn’t wait.

He would be already inside when I turned around.

Sometimes behind me in the mirror.

Sometimes whispering under the bed.

Sometimes pressing his mouth to my ear and saying, “I want to wear you.”

I woke with bruises on my arms I couldn’t explain.

Nail marks on my thighs.

I stopped asking how.

At school, I stopped feeling real.

People talked to me. Teachers called my name. I responded, smiled, played the part.

But it was like watching someone else live my life.

I started carrying pepper spray in my bag. I never used it.

I kept it like a relic. A tiny, plastic symbol that I could protect myself.

But I didn’t want to use it on him.

I wanted him to stop needing it.

He visited more now.

Sometimes even when my parents were home just for a minute, just to press a note into my hand and vanish through the side door.

His handwriting was changing. Sloppier. Sharper. Like his mind was fraying.

┃ “Don’t forget you’re mine.”

┃ “I saw you smile at him. Don’t do it again.”

┃ “If I can't have you soft, I’ll take you raw.”

My reflection started lying.

I'd stare in the mirror and see her blink before I did.

She looked tired. Pretty, but off.

Eyes wide like she was waiting for someone to grab her.

She looked like someone who belonged to him.

Maybe she did.

One night, I tried locking the window again.

I shut it. Latched it. Drew the curtains.

I sat in bed and waited to feel… safe.

I didn’t.

I fell asleep tense.

And woke up at 3:09 AM.

The window was open.

The curtain swayed in the breeze.

And he was sitting on the floor beside my bed, legs crossed, eyes glowing faintly in the dark.

Like he’d always been there.

I jolted up, heart slamming.

He smiled softly.

“You locked it this time,” he said. “That hurt me.”

I whispered, “I needed space.”

He leaned forward. His voice dropped like a stone:

“There’s no space without me in it.”

I should’ve screamed.

But instead, I whispered:

“…I know.”

Because I did.

Because it was already too late.

Because he was already under my skin, and now he was crawling into my dreams

━━━━⊱⋆⊰━━━━

Chapter 11:

It wasn’t all fear.

Some nights… it was almost soft.

Like pretending we were normal.

Like pretending he was my boyfriend.

He brought me a milkshake once.

Knocked twice against the window and handed it to me like it was a peace offering. Like the note he left the night before hadn’t said “If I can’t have you, no one will.”

We sat on my floor, sharing it from the same straw, knees brushing in silence.

He watched me lick whipped cream from my lip like it was sacred.

“You’re mine,” he whispered.

“You always say that,” I murmured, voice quiet. “But you never say what we are.”

He tilted his head.

Like he didn’t understand the question.

Or like it hurt him.

That night, he didn’t try to touch me.

Not right away.

We just laid there. My head on his chest, his fingers tracing light circles on my arm.

And for a moment, I closed my eyes and let myself believe it was real.

Not a nightmare.

Not a secret.

Not something that would destroy us both.

“Chanyeol,” I whispered.

“Mm?”

“What are we?”

His breath stilled for a second.

Then resumed.

“I’m yours,” he said. “And you’re mine.”

“No,” I pressed. “I mean—are we… a couple? Are we just playing pretend? Is this just in your head, or did I fall into it too?”

He was quiet for a long time.

Then: “You opened the window, Y/N.”

I stared at the ceiling.

“That’s not an answer.”

“It’s the only one that matters.”

His arms tightened around me.

Like I might vanish.

Like if he didn’t hold me hard enough, I’d slip back into reality.

“I see you,” he murmured against my hair. “Even when you’re pretending to be someone else. Even when you're smiling for the world and screaming inside.”

“I never told you that,” I whispered.

“You didn’t have to.”

He kissed me then.

Slow. Careful.

Almost like he was asking.

But I didn’t stop him.

I kissed him back.

Because I was tired of being scared.

Because I didn’t know who I was without him anymore.

Because maybe the truth was worse than the lie

That somewhere along the line...

I wanted to be his.

━━━━⊱⋆⊰━━━━

Chapter 12:

I don’t remember when it started feeling normal.

Maybe the third or fourth night he stayed until dawn.

Maybe the first time he kissed me like I was his reward.

Maybe when I stopped checking the locks because I wanted him to come in.

He brought me things now.

Little things.

My favorite lip balm that somehow vanished from my bag two weeks ago. A necklace I once complimented in a store window he left it on my pillow with a note that read: “I like it better on you.”

He noticed things no one else did.

Or maybe they noticed, but they didn’t claim me like he did.

And isn’t that what love is?

Possession?

At school, things changed.

Fast.

Boys stopped talking to me. Girls whispered when I passed.

My best friend pulled me aside one afternoon and said, “Are you okay? You’re... different lately. Tired. Pale. Weirdly quiet.”

I told her I was just busy.

She didn’t believe me.

I didn’t care.

I only cared about him.

Sometimes, Chanyeol would show up at school unannounced.

He didn’t go there. But he’d sit outside the gate.

Leaning on his bike. Hood up. Watching.

And when I left the building, he’d fall in step behind me. Not beside me.

Behind.

Silent.

Like a shadow.

Like a warning to anyone else watching.

At night, his touches became more possessive.

Kisses deeper. Hands firmer. Holding me like he was afraid I’d disappear mid-sentence.

Sometimes he’d grip my wrist and whisper, “Don’t ever do that again,” after I mentioned laughing with someone in class.

Sometimes I’d apologize.

Sometimes I didn’t know why.

One night, I asked him, “Would you still want me if I told you to stop?”

He stared at me.

Something sharp behind his eyes.

Then he leaned in, lips brushing my ear.

“You won’t.”

I didn’t respond.

Because I wasn’t sure if it was a warning…

Or a promise I’d already made.

He kissed down my neck that night and murmured things like:

┃ “You’re not allowed to leave.”

┃ “No one else can love you like I do.”

┃ “If they touch you, I’ll break their hands.”

And I let him.

Not because I agreed.

But because I was starting to forget how to say no to him.

Or how to mean it when I did.

━━━━⊱⋆⊰━━━━

Chapter 13:

It felt wrong from the beginning.

Even if his mother smiled and offered me hot chocolate. Even if their house smelled like fresh linen and candle wax.

Even if I wore clean socks and said “thank you” and pretended I wasn’t sleeping next to someone who had memorized the curve of my spine before I ever learned his name.

He invited me to stay.

Casual. Soft.

“Sleep over,” he said. “My mom likes you.”

That alone felt like a hallucination.

His mother?

The polite, elegant woman who wore pearls and made peach pie?

She smiled when she saw me.

Touched my shoulder and said, “So glad you’re spending time with Chanyeol. He’s... intense. But loyal.”

That word sat heavy in the room.

Loyal.

Like a guard dog.

Or a storm that never moves on.

His room was darker than mine.

Blackout curtains. Worn rug. Books stacked in corners. His desk covered in half-written notes and camera lenses and

I stopped.

There was a framed photo of me.

Not one I gave him. Not one we took together.

Just me. Laughing at something off-frame. Back turned slightly, a hand in my hair.

I said nothing.

He watched me look at it.

And said even less.

That night, we lay side by side in his bed.

His hands didn’t wander.

They clung.

Like I was a secret he finally owned out loud.

He spoke in that soft voice again, the one that felt like velvet dipped in gasoline.

“You look right here,” he murmured. “Like you belong in this bed. In this house. Next to me.”

I whispered, “Does your mom know?”

He chuckled. “She doesn’t need to.”

“But if she did?”

He rolled onto his side and pushed my hair behind my ear.

“She’d just be happy I found someone who finally listens.”

The sheets smelled like him.

Worn-in cologne. Skin. Nights I used to be afraid of.

Now they felt like mine, too.

Sometime after 2 AM, I woke up with his arms around my waist. His breath hot against my neck.

“You’re never going back,” he whispered into the dark.

I didn’t know if it was a question.

Or a command.

Or a promise.

But I didn’t move.

Not even when his grip tightened like a chain.

━━━━⊱⋆⊰━━━━

Chapter 14:

I stopped fighting it.

Not because I was too tired.

But because I realized I didn’t want to anymore.

There was a strange peace in surrendering.

Letting the world narrow down to just his room,

his voice,

his hands,

his rules.

It was easier than wondering who I used to be.

Easier than trying to explain why I didn’t want to leave.

At school, I didn’t talk to anyone anymore.

I didn’t need to.

My phone stayed silent most days.

Except for him.

I liked it that way.

I liked knowing that someone was always watching.

That if I ever drifted too far, he’d pull me back.

Even if it hurt.

Especially if it hurt.

Because pain meant he cared.

Right?

He started dressing me.

Nothing obvious just little things.

“Wear the red one today,” he’d say, pressing a soft sweater into my hands.

“I like this necklace. It makes you look mine.”

At first, I resisted.

Now, I wore them like charms.

Like proof that someone saw me really saw me.

And marked me.

I started spending more nights in his room.

His mother never asked questions.

She smiled when she passed by in the mornings, like this was normal. Like I was just another girl in her son’s life.

But I wasn’t.

And we both knew it.

I was the only girl.

He made sure of that.

He kissed differently now.

Slower. Possessive.

Not desperate like before this was deeper. Like he’d claimed his prize and now he was memorizing it.

His hands no longer asked for permission.

Mine didn’t stop them.

One night, I sat on his bed, curled in one of his black hoodies, and whispered:

“Do you think this is love?”

He was sitting at his desk, reading something I’d never see.

He didn’t look up.

He just said:

“I think this is forever.”

That should have scared me.

But all I felt was relief.

━━━━⊱⋆⊰━━━━

Chapter 15:

His lips were on my neck,

his fingers under my shirt,

and I didn’t stop him.

Not at first.

Because it felt inevitable

like gravity had finally pulled us to the center.

Like this was where all the nights, all the whispers, all the locked windows had been leading.

It was dark in his room.

The kind of dark that made everything feel secret.

He had me pinned gently beneath him, his hand on my hip, breath warm against my skin as his mouth found mine over and over.

The kiss turned hungry.

My fingers curled in his shirt.

He pulled back just long enough to whisper:

“Tell me to stop, and I will.”

I didn’t say anything.

He kissed down my throat, slow and reverent,

like I was some kind of shrine.

His hand slid under my waistband.

That’s when it shifted.

I froze.

Just a second.

Barely even a breath.

But he felt it.

He always did.

His touch stilled.

His eyes met mine.

“You okay?” he asked, voice low, like a tether.

I nodded too fast.

But he didn’t move.

“Y/N,” he said more firmly, “look at me.”

I did.

And just like that

the heat snapped.

Tears started to sting before I could stop them.

Not because of him.

Not because I didn’t want him.

But because I suddenly realized

I wasn’t ready to be that his.

Not yet.

Not when so much of me was still lost in him.

Not when I hadn’t figured out where he ended and I began.

He didn’t ask questions.

Didn’t pressure.

He just pulled me into his arms, kissed my hair, and whispered:

“I’ll wait.”

But even in his embrace, I could feel it

The tension just beneath his skin.

The storm he held back.

Because Chanyeol didn’t wait well.

Not really.

And I had just pulled on a leash he pretended didn’t exist.

He held me longer than usual that night.

No words. No expectations.

Just the steady beat of his heart against my back.

I felt small there, cradled in his arms the same arms that could grip too tight, that could push too far.

But now?

They were soft.

Like a shield.

“Take all the time you need,” he whispered into my hair.

And I believed him.

Because the way he said it wasn’t a promise.

It was a plea.

I turned slowly in his arms, fingertips tracing the line of his jaw.

His eyes were dark, deep pools of something I couldn’t name.

“Are you really okay?” I asked, voice barely more than a breath.

He smiled, but it didn’t reach those eyes.

“I’m learning,” he said.

“But I’m not used to waiting.”

For a moment, the silence between us was heavy like it could snap.

I wanted to ask what happened if I kept pushing him away.

But I was scared of the answer.

Instead, I kissed his palm.

Soft.

Reassuring.

Like a promise that I wasn’t running.

Not yet.

He pulled me close again, this time resting his forehead against mine.

“Y/N,” he murmured, voice rough but gentle.

“I don’t want to hurt you.

But I can’t promise the cracks won’t show.”

I nodded against his chest, heart pounding with the truth of it all.

Because even in the quiet, I could feel the storm waiting waiting for the moment to break free.

And I didn’t know if I was strong enough to hold us both.

━━━━⊱⋆⊰━━━━

Chapter 16:

The day Chanyeol walked into school, it felt like the air shifted.

Gone was the scruffy, hoodie-wearing boy who lingered in shadows.

Now, standing in the hallway, he looked… different.

His hair was neatly trimmed, styled just right soft waves brushing his forehead.

His eyes, always sharp, now held a calm confidence that made me catch my breath.

He wore a clean, tailored jacket over a simple white shirt, and even his jeans looked… expensive.

But it wasn’t just his clothes.

It was the way he carried himself like someone who finally believed he belonged.

People stopped talking.

Whispers followed him.

Girls glanced his way, surprised.

And I?

I felt my heart twist.

Because this new Chanyeol was still his intense, magnetic, dangerous but also…

something more.

He caught my gaze from across the hall and smiled.

Not the shadowy, unreadable smile from before this one was softer.

Almost… inviting.

For a moment, I forgot everything else.

The fear. The secrets. The storm beneath his skin.

I just saw him.

And it was enough.

(author note: second part is posted !)

[loeyshine]

The Sundress

Epoch Book

•*⁀➷pairing: chanyeol x fem reader

Theme: romance angst, modern au, memories, miscommunication, peace offering, until deaths. “She was like a summer breeze, the sun sparkling unto her porcelain skin”.

Description: holding this piece will be always reminding me to bring back to you. Your scent, presence, smile, and those beautiful eyes.

Playlist: those eyes — new west

erstwhile — 1995

Chapter 1: The Dress

The silence was deafening.

It had been four days since you and Chanyeol last spoke. Four long, stubborn days. The fight wasn’t even about something serious just miscommunication, hurt feelings, and a late reply that spiraled into something uglier than either of you expected.

You missed him. God, you missed him.

You missed the way he always hummed random melodies around you, the way he’d pull you into hugs so big they made your bad days melt away. But your pride kept you from texting first, and you were sure his was doing the same.

Until that evening.

You were in your dorm, lounging in a hoodie and trying to focus on your laptop when there was a knock on your door.

You opened it to find no one just a small, neatly wrapped box on the floor, tied with a dusty rose ribbon. A cream-colored note was attached.

You frowned, heart skipping.

“For the most stubborn girl I know. And the most beautiful. Sorry for being a jerk.

—Your idiot, Chanyeol.”

Inside was a gorgeous mini sundress. White, with delicate lace details and soft ruffles on the straps. It looked like summer and sweetness and you.

You swallowed hard, already blinking back tears.

Before you could even decide whether to cry or scream, you heard footsteps. Chanyeol appeared at the end of the hall, hands in his hoodie pockets, looking like he hadn’t slept properly in days.

His eyes met yours.

“I didn’t know how to say sorry,” he said softly. “So I tried to show it.”

You stared at him. “You think bribing me with pretty clothes will fix things?”

He gave a half-smile. “No. I was hoping you’d let me fix things… while you’re wearing it.”

That cracked something in you.

You stepped forward slowly. “You made me feel ignored.”

“I know,” he said immediately. “And I hate myself for it. I got overwhelmed with practice, but that’s not an excuse. I should’ve told you. Not shut you out.”

You looked down at the dress, then up at him. “You hurt me, Yeol.”

“I know.” He looked down, the way he always did when he was ashamed. “Can I make it up to you?”

You let the silence hang between you for a moment longer before whispering, “You already started.”

His eyes lifted hopeful, soft, so full of you.

You took his hand. “But I’m still keeping the dress.”

He laughed, pulling you into the kind of hug that told you things were okay again.

“I got it in your size,” he whispered into your hair. “Because I never forgot it. Even when I was mad.”

You leaned into him. “Next time, just say sorry before I start planning your funeral in my head.”

He kissed your temple. “Deal.”

━━━━⊱⋆⊰━━━━

Chaper 2: Sunset and Second Chances

It had been a week since you and Chanyeol made up. Since that night in the hallway with the dress and the apology, things between you had shifted back to soft laughter, shared playlists, and lingering eye contact that said “I missed you” without words.

But tonight felt different.

He texted you early that morning with just two words “Wear it.”

You didn’t even have to ask what he meant.

Now, you stood in front of your mirror, the white sundress hugging you like a whispered promise. It fluttered just above your knees and moved like a daydream. You paired it with strappy sandals and a simple necklace Chanyeol once gave you after a late-night convenience store run.

When you stepped outside, he was waiting by his car, leaning casually against it in a cream button-down and rolled-up sleeves. His eyes lit up the second he saw you.

“Wow,” he breathed. “You look like... a song I haven’t written yet.”

You rolled your eyes, grinning. “That’s so cheesy.”

“It’s also true,” he said, walking over and pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. “You wore the sundress. I’m honored.”

“Where are we going?” you asked as he opened the passenger door for you.

“You’ll see.”

He drove you out of the city, winding through hills until the skyline disappeared. The road ended at a quiet hilltop field with tall grass, golden under the falling sun. A picnic blanket was already spread out, complete with fairy lights in jars, a small speaker playing soft jazz, and your favorite snacks.

You blinked. “You did all this?”

Chanyeol shrugged with a shy smile. “I had to step up my game. I missed you too much to screw it up again.”

You sat down beside him, the breeze tugging gently at your dress. “You didn’t have to go this far.”

He looked at you like you were the only star he’d ever need. “I wanted to.”

After a few bites of food and playful teasing, he pulled out his guitar from the back of his car. “I wrote something. Wanna hear it?”

You nodded.

He strummed a gentle melody, eyes never leaving yours.

“You wore the dress / And I wore the guilt

But here we are, rebuilding what we built

With sunlight on your skin / And forgiveness in your eyes

This love survives, no matter the fight.”

You blinked quickly, heart full.

When he finished, you didn’t say anything at first. Just reached out, cupped his face, and kissed him like you’d waited all your life to.

And maybe, in some way, you had.

━━━━⊱⋆⊰━━━━

Chapter 3: When the Wind Turns

You didn’t notice the shift right away.

After your sunset date with Chanyeol, things felt light again. He kept sending you voice memos of silly songs he wrote for your “sundress energy,” and you met up almost every evening grabbing street food, walking aimlessly, laughing like you hadn’t argued at all.

But Jade noticed first.

“You sure everything’s cool with Mina?” she asked one afternoon at the café.

You blinked. “Why wouldn’t it be?”

Jade shrugged, stirring her iced coffee. “She gave me a weird vibe yesterday. Like… too interested in Chanyeol.”

You waved her off. “She’s just flirty with everyone.”

Jade gave you a look. “Yeah, but not everyone is dating you.”

It wasn’t long before you noticed it, too.

Mina had always been a bit... dramatic. But lately, it was like she had made it her mission to get under your skin. She’d “accidentally” touch Chanyeol’s arm too much when you were all hanging out, giggle at his every word, and subtly throw shade.

Once, while you were chatting in a group, she smiled sweetly and said, “It’s honestly cute how you let Y/N wear stuff like that around other guys. You’re so confident, Yeol.”

You blinked, stunned, before Chanyeol shut her down with a cool smile. “She can wear anything she wants. I trust her and she looks better in that dress than anyone else ever could.”

Mina laughed awkwardly. “Chill, I was just joking.”

But the damage lingered.

That night, you lay beside Chanyeol on his couch, your head on his chest while his fingers lazily traced patterns on your arm.

“You think Mina’s being weird?” you asked softly.

He stiffened slightly. “You noticed?”

You sat up a little. “Jade thinks she’s trying to get between us.”

Chanyeol let out a tired sigh. “I’ve been trying to ignore it. Didn’t wanna stress you out. But yeah. She’s crossing lines.”

You hesitated. “Should I say something? Or just let her drift away?”

He looked at you for a long second. “You don’t owe anyone your silence, Y/N. Especially someone who disrespects you like that.”

You nodded slowly.

He reached over, tucked your hair behind your ear. “I’m not stupid, you know. I see you. I love you. No one’s gonna change that especially not someone desperate for attention.”

Your heart swelled, but anger still burned low in your chest. You didn’t like being made to feel insecure especially not by someone who called herself your friend.

You leaned closer and whispered, “Let’s make her watch me wear that sundress again. With a red lipstick this time.”

Chanyeol grinned. “You’re dangerous.”

You smiled back. “Only when someone tries to steal what’s mine.”

━━━━⊱⋆⊰━━━━

Chapter 4: The Unraveling

It all came undone at the group dinner.

A casual Friday night, hosted by Baekhyun and full of laughter, food, and the chaotic energy that only your circle of friends could produce. Chanyeol had one arm draped over your shoulder the entire evening, pressing occasional kisses to your temple without thinking twice.

Mina was there, of course. She had shown up in a dress suspiciously similar to yours the sundress Chanyeol had given you. But hers was knockoff stiff, not delicate. Imitation lace instead of embroidered dreams.

You didn’t say a word.

But Jade caught it instantly. She leaned over, whispered, “She’s trying you tonight.”

You just smiled, sipped your drink, and waited.

The conversation turned to relationships, as it often did. Baekhyun was ranting about how dating apps were a scam, and Kai chimed in with a joke about terrible first dates. Then Sehun, ever the instigator, smirked and said:

“Okay, real talk who in this room would you never date and why?”

Groans and fake protests exploded. It was a chaotic dare.

“I’ll go first,” Baekhyun said dramatically. “Jade only because you’d roast me alive.”

“Facts,” she said smugly.

When it came around to Mina, she gave a faux-innocent smile. “Honestly? Y/N. You intimidate people. You’re like, too perfect. If I were a guy, I’d feel like I was dating a magazine cover. It’d just feel fake.”

The room fell quiet for a beat.

You raised a brow. “So… being confident and secure makes me fake?”

Mina blinked. “I didn’t mean it like that—”

Chanyeol cut in, voice calm but icy. “She meant you look too good for me. That’s what she’s been hinting at for weeks.”

You looked at him, surprised. He met your eyes like he’d been holding that in.

Baekhyun blinked. “Wait, what?”

Jade sat forward. “Mina’s been throwing shade at Y/N every time we hang out. You all just haven’t been listening.”

Mina opened her mouth, but Sehun beat her to it.

“I mean, you literally copied her dress tonight.”

More silence.

Mina’s cheeks flushed, but she still smiled, trying to laugh it off. “You guys are reading too much into things. I just admire Y/N’s style.”

Jade smirked. “You admire it so much you mock it when she’s not around. Forgot I was in that group chat?”

Boom.

Mina froze. Chanyeol’s arm tightened around you protectively.

You tilted your head. “Group chat?”

Jade pulled out her phone, but she didn’t need to show it. The damage was done. The energy shifted. Everyone saw it now what you’d seen for weeks.

Mina stood, her smile brittle. “I think I should go.”

No one stopped her.

Later, as the group settled again, Chanyeol turned to you, brushing your hair back gently.

“You okay?”

You nodded. “Yeah. I think I just needed to be reminded who’s real.”

He kissed you slow, certain.

“And who’s yours.”

You smirked. “That’s not in question.”

━━━━⊱⋆⊰━━━━

Flashback

Chapter 5: The First Time I Saw Her

POV: Chanyeol

It was a Thursday.

I remember because it wasn’t supposed to be anything special. Just another afternoon on campus, earbuds in, hoodie up, mind halfway through a new guitar riff I’d been obsessing over. The sun was out. The breeze was nice. My life was fine.

Then I saw her.

She was walking with two girls one loud, the other lowkey, but she was right in the middle, laughing like she had no idea she could destroy someone just by smiling.

She wore this light blue crop top, jeans that hugged her just right, and white sneakers that made her look like a dream skipping across a sidewalk. Hair loose. Eyes bright. Effortless.

And I froze.

Not literally. I kept walking like a normal person. But inside, something just stopped.

I’d never seen someone look so alive. Like the universe poured sunshine directly into her veins.

She didn’t see me.

I kept expecting her to glance up and catch me staring because I was definitely staring but she was too busy telling some story. Her hands were animated, her eyes wide, and she looked like joy in motion.

I remember thinking, This is how songs start.

And maybe how everything else does, too.

She walked right past me.

Didn’t even know I existed.

But I turned around. Just for one last look. And I whispered, “Please let me run into her again.”

The thing is—

I didn’t know it then, but she was going to turn my world inside out.

And I’d let her.

Over and over again.

━━━━⊱⋆⊰━━━━

Chapter 6: I’m Sorry, Do I Know You?"

POV: Y/N

It started with a bottle of iced coffee.

Not the metaphorical kind like he was the caffeine that woke up my soul or whatever. I mean literally. I was at the campus café, eyes barely open, waiting for my name to be called when someone suddenly slid a cold drink across the counter toward me.

Not the barista.

Just… a guy. Tall, hoodie, baseball cap. Ridiculously pretty lips.

He smiled.

“You looked tired,” he said, like it was the most normal thing to say to a stranger.

I blinked. “I’m sorry… do I know you?”

He laughed low, a little sheepish, but not embarrassed.

“Not yet.”

Okay, what?

I stepped back slightly, one eyebrow raised, every red flag detector in my brain on high alert. He wasn’t creepy, though. He had this boyish nervous energy, like he hadn’t done this before and wasn’t quite sure what he was doing now.

“You’re Y/N, right?” he asked.

That made me stiffen a little. “Okay, that’s even weirder. How do you know my name?”

He lifted both hands quickly. “I swear I’m not a stalker. I just… saw you around a few times. You’re always with Jade and Sera. You were at Baekhyun’s birthday party, right?”

Oh. That made a little more sense. Campus wasn’t that big. And Baekhyun invited literally everyone and their cousin to that party.

Still.

“I’m Y/N,” I said cautiously. “And you are?”

He smiled, softer now. “Chanyeol.”

His name sounded familiar vaguely. I think I’d heard it through mutual friends. Music major. In a band or something. Tall. Kind of dorky but weirdly charming.

I looked down at the coffee, then back at him.

“You do this for all the girls or just the ones you stalk from across campus?” I teased, half-sarcastic, half-curious.

He laughed again. “Just the ones who don’t know me yet.”

And maybe it was the tiredness, or the caffeine, or the way he looked at me like I was the only person in the room but I smiled back.

Just a little.

Maybe even enough to change everything.

━━━━⊱⋆⊰━━━━

Chapter 7: Not a Date

It wasn’t a date.

At least, that’s what I told myself when I said yes.

“It’s just coffee,” I had said. “It’s not like he asked me out.”

Even though he kind of did.

Even though his eyes twinkled like he already knew I’d say yes.

He picked the place some off-campus café with low lighting, indie music, and way too many books stacked around like props in a student film.

When I walked in, he was already there, fidgeting with the sleeves of his sweater, two iced americanos on the table like he somehow knew my order.

“You’re punctual,” I said, sitting down across from him.

He grinned. “You’re not. Fashionably five minutes late.”

“I like to keep the mystery alive,” I smirked.

He leaned forward a little. “So… do I still give stalker vibes, or have I earned actual conversation privileges now?”

I pretended to think. “Mmm… the jury’s still out.”

He chuckled, looking down shyly before sipping his drink. I watched the way his fingers tapped the side of the cup like he had a beat stuck in his head. Probably did he was always humming something under his breath.

“So,” I said, “why me?”

He looked up, surprised. “What do you mean?”

“I mean… you could’ve just walked by and kept your iced coffee to yourself. But you didn’t. Why?”

He blinked. Then shrugged slowly. “Because you looked like someone I’d regret not knowing.”

Oh.

Damn.

I stared at him, unsure what to say. My heart fluttered in that annoying, traitorous way it did when someone said something unexpectedly sweet.

“You’re really smooth for a guy who couldn’t look me in the eye last week,” I teased.

He groaned. “I wasn’t expecting you to talk to me! You were literally glowing and laughing with your friends. I didn’t think you even saw me.”

I tilted my head. “So you planned this whole casual iced coffee ambush to fix that?”

His eyes sparkled. “Is it working?”

It was.

God, it really was.

But I wasn’t going to say that out loud.

Instead, I rolled my eyes playfully. “This is not a date, just so we’re clear.”

He raised his cup in a toast. “Not a date. Got it.”

We clinked cups.

And talked for two hours.

About everything and nothing. About music, bad roommates, midnight cravings, guilty-pleasure movies. He made me laugh really laugh. The kind of laugh that made my chest feel light and full at the same time.

When we finally left, the sun had dipped low, painting the streets in gold and shadow.

He walked me halfway home, hands in his pockets, eyes glancing over at me like he was memorizing the way I moved, the way I talked, the way I felt beside him.

And when we stopped at the corner, he smiled and said, “Still not a date. But I hope there’s another.”

And for the first time in a long time, I actually hoped so too.

━━━━⊱⋆⊰━━━━

Chapter 8: Just Friends

It was a classic girls’ night.

Messy buns, oversized hoodies, snacks covering every surface, and a playlist bouncing from Doja Cat to old-school EXO because Jade was in one of those moods.

You were lying on your bed, scrolling through your phone while Jade and Sera fought over the last piece of chocolate.

And then of course they brought him up.

“So…” Sera drawled, flopping beside you. “How’s Chanyeol?”

You didn’t even look up. “Fine.”

“Just fine?” Jade grinned. “That boy literally risked caffeine overdose trying to impress you.”

“Please,” you scoffed, “it was one iced coffee.”

“One iced coffee and a picnic date and a song he literally wrote about you,” Sera added, dramatic as ever. “Are you two like… secretly married now, or?”

You laughed, grabbing a pillow and whacking her. “You’re both ridiculous. There’s nothing special going on. We’re just friends.”

“JUST friends?” Jade said, eyebrows raised. “Y/N, the way he looks at you? That man is one heartbeat away from writing a wedding album.”

“He does not—”

“He does,” they both said in unison.

You groaned, burying your face into the pillow. “You guys are so annoying.”

Sera leaned in, gasping. “Wait do you like him?”

“I mean, yeah, as a person—”

“That is not what we’re asking and you know it.”

You sat up, blushing, clutching your hoodie tighter around you like it could protect you from their chaos. “Look. He’s sweet, and funny, and yeah, okay very attractive. But nothing’s happening. We’re not dating.”

Jade raised a brow. “Yet.”

You threw a chip at her.

“He’s just… Chanyeol,” you muttered. “It’s not that deep.”

The silence that followed was deafening. And then both girls let out synchronized squeals.

“Oh my god, you’re so into him!” Sera yelled.

“I am not!”

“You totally are!”

You tried to hold your ground, but your stupid smile was giving you away. And your friends knew it.

“You literally look like you’re about to write his name in your journal with hearts around it,” Jade smirked.

You rolled your eyes. “Grow up.”

“Make it official, babe,” Sera said, wagging her brows. “Because if you don’t, I might.”

You glared. “Touch him and I’ll throw your straightener in the pool.”

They laughed, and you joined in heart full, cheeks sore, and somewhere in the back of your mind… maybe starting to think this wasn’t just friends after all.

━━━━⊱⋆⊰━━━━

Chapter 9: Speak of the Devil

“Okay but picture it,” Jade said, grabbing a handful of popcorn. “Y/N in that white sundress the sundress with Chanyeol behind her, arms wrapped around her waist, some summer wind blowing in…”

Sera gasped dramatically. “Stop, that’s so cinematic I could cry.”

You groaned from where you were sprawled on your bed. “You guys are literally writing fanfiction about me at this point.”

Jade pointed at you with a chip. “Girl, don’t lie you’ve imagined it too.”

“I haven’t!” you insisted, cheeks burning. “We’re just friends. Just friends!”

“Friends don’t look at each other like that,” Sera chimed in. “Or write songs. Or buy sundresses, babe.”

Before you could throw another pillow in their faces, your door creaked open.

“Hey, Y/N, I—”

Silence.

All three of you froze.

There, in the doorway, stood Chanyeol holding a bag of takeout with his eyes slightly wide and a suspiciously smug curve to his lips.

“…Did I come at a bad time?” he asked, voice way too innocent.

Your soul left your body.

Sera let out a noise somewhere between a cough and a scream.

Jade grinned like the devil. “Nope. We were just talking about you.”

You looked at her like you were going to commit a crime. “Jade.”

Chanyeol stepped into the room, placing the bag on your desk, eyebrows raised. “What kind of talk?”

Sera leaned over. “The romantic kind.”

“Sera.”

Chanyeol looked at you now, clearly enjoying this. “Romantic, huh?”

You buried your face in your hands. “I hate all of you.”

He sat next to you on the bed, nudging your shoulder. “So… I looked good in your daydream, or just okay?”

You grabbed a pillow and smacked him in the face with it.

Hard.

He laughed, full and unbothered, his cheeks pink but his grin dangerous.

Your friends were shrieking.

“You are never living this down,” Jade wheezed.

Chanyeol leaned in slightly, voice low, teasing, just for you. “For the record… I’ve imagined it too.”

Your heart flipped. Literally flipped. You shoved his arm, but your smile betrayed you.

And right then, in the middle of the chaos and the popcorn and the yelling

You thought,

Maybe we’re not just friends anymore.

━━━━⊱⋆⊰━━━━

Chapter 10: Finally

It happened after one of those slow, golden evenings where nothing and everything happened.

You and Chanyeol had taken a walk just because. No plans, no real destination. Just the two of you drifting through quiet streets, talking about everything from dumb childhood fears to favorite sad songs.

By the time you reached your building, the sun was gone, and the sky was that soft navy shade where streetlamps looked like stars.

You stopped at your door, turning to him. “Thanks for walking me.”

He smiled down at you. “You say that every time.”

“And I mean it every time.”

There was a pause.

One of those thick, electric ones.

You could feel it in your stomach how close he was. How his gaze kept dropping to your mouth before darting back up to your eyes. He was trying to be respectful, probably overthinking it. You were, too.

But neither of you moved.

“I… should go,” he said softly.

You nodded.

But neither of you did.

Then, like something invisible snapped, he whispered, “Can I—”

You didn’t wait for him to finish.

You leaned in.

So did he.

The kiss wasn’t perfect his nose bumped yours slightly, your hand reached up too fast but none of that mattered because it was him.

And you.

And it was warm, gentle, slow. The kind of kiss that felt like a secret finally spoken aloud. His hand found the small of your back like it belonged there. You curled your fingers into the edge of his hoodie, anchoring yourself.

When you pulled apart, your foreheads stayed touching.

“Wow,” he breathed.

You laughed under your breath. “Yeah.”

His smile was crooked and wrecked. “Definitely not just friends, huh?”

You shook your head, grinning like a fool. “Not even close.”

━━━━⊱⋆⊰━━━━

Chapter 11: Something’s Different

You didn’t tell anyone.

Not at first.

There was no dramatic post. No group chat announcement. No fireworks. Just you and Chanyeol walking side by side the next morning same rhythm, same playlist in one earbud, same casual chatter.

But something had shifted.

When your fingers brushed, he didn’t pretend it was nothing.

He reached for your hand.

Laced your fingers together like he’d been waiting his whole life to do it.

Your heart did that fluttering thing again the kind where it felt like it wanted to leap right out of your chest and into his hands.

He glanced at you as you walked past the music building, soft and a little shy. “Still just friends?”

You smiled, squeezing his hand. “Shut up.”

He laughed.

No one said anything when you both showed up to class together. Or when you sat closer than usual. Or when you shared your hoodie because he forgot his again. But your friends noticed. Oh, they noticed.

It started with Jade giving you a look across the library.

Then Sera caught you smiling at your phone and mouthed, “Who is it?”

You tried to shrug it off, but they weren’t buying it.

Especially not when Chanyeol dropped you off outside your dorm later, kissed your cheek without even thinking about it, and walked off like he hadn’t just completely exposed you.

You didn’t even turn around before your phone buzzed.

Sera:

┃ WHAT WAS THAT

┃ I SAW THAT

┃EXPLAIN. NOW.

Jade:

┃ so when are we double dating or what

You sighed, face in your hands, blushing like an idiot.

And then your phone buzzed again this time from Chanyeol.

Chanyeol:

┃ I like holding your hand.

┃ Can I do it again tomorrow?

You grinned.

Typed back:

┃ Only if you let me wear your hoodie this time.

The dots appeared immediately.

Chanyeol:

┃ Deal.

┃ But fair warning… I kinda want to kiss you again, too.

You stared at the message, heart flipping like it did the night before.

And yeah

Something was definitely different.

But in the best way possible.

━━━━⊱⋆⊰━━━━

Chapter 12: Full Circle

The memory faded like the end of a song still lingering in your chest, but quiet now.

Your fingers grazed the soft fabric in the box.

The sundress.

White. Light. Beautiful.

Just like the one your friends had teased you about months ago. The one Jade had jokingly described in her fanfiction-level fantasy about you and Chanyeol. The one he remembered.

And now, after days of silence and tension and hurt... it was here.

His peace offering.

You picked it up carefully, the way you’d hold a fragile apology, and laid it across your lap. A tiny card had been tucked inside the box, written in his messy, unmistakably Chanyeol scrawl:

┃ “For the girl who once said this wasn’t a date.

For every almost-moment I didn’t want to lose.

Let’s stop pretending we’re good at being mad.”

— Chanyeol

Your chest tightened.

You thought about that first iced coffee. That not-a-date walk. The way he kissed you like he’d been waiting through lifetimes.

And then you thought about the argument.

How stupid it had been. How much pride had built walls between you both. How your jealous “friend” had stirred things just enough to fracture what felt unbreakable. And how neither of you had fixed it…

Until now.

You stood up slowly, the sundress still in your hands.

Maybe you weren’t good at being mad.

But you were really, really good at finding your way back to each other.

━━━━⊱⋆⊰━━━━

Chapter 13: Yours

The city was quieter than usual. Or maybe it just felt that way.

Because your heart was loud.

You didn’t text him. Didn’t warn him. You just slipped the sundress over your shoulders soft, white, delicate and walked to where you knew he’d be.

He always went to the same bench near the old campus fountain when he needed to think. It was where he wrote lyrics. Where he sent you voice notes. Where he once asked, “Is it okay if I like you a little more than I should?”

And now, it was where he sat hoodie pulled up, earphones dangling, foot tapping with nerves he didn’t know what to do with.

He looked up.

And froze.

You didn’t say anything at first.

Just stood there in the sundress he chose for you his apology wrapped in cotton and meaning.

His breath caught. “You wore it.”

You nodded. “You remembered.”

“I remember everything,” he said quietly. “Especially you.”

The tension broke like glass. You stepped forward, and he stood, already meeting you halfway.

“I’m sorry,” he said, all in a rush. “For the fight. For shutting down. I should’ve come sooner. Should’ve—”

You cut him off with a small, sad smile. “I missed you.”

His eyes softened. “I missed us.”

And just like that, the space between you closed.

His arms slid around your waist like they belonged there. Your fingers curled into the fabric of his hoodie like it was home. You looked up, nose brushing his, breath mixing.

And then he kissed you.

A kiss like a promise.

Like starting over.

Like everything you had been everything you still were collapsing into a single, perfect moment.

When he pulled back, foreheads pressed together, he whispered

“You’re still mine, right?”

You smiled.

“I was always yours.”

━━━━⊱⋆⊰━━━━

Chapter 14: Sundays and Sundresses

Sundays were slow now.

Soft.

Sunlight filtered through cream curtains. You were in the kitchen barefoot, wearing his hoodie and humming something you couldn’t remember the name of. Eggs sizzled quietly in the pan. Coffee brewed in the corner.

And behind you

Strong arms snuck around your waist.

“Morning,” he murmured into your neck, voice still low and sleepy.

You smiled, leaning into him. “Afternoon.”

“Whatever,” he grinned, swaying with you gently. “You didn’t wake me.”

“You looked peaceful,” you teased. “Like a giant baby.”

He gasped. “A sexy giant baby.”

You laughed, elbowing him lightly. He kissed your cheek anyway, resting his chin on your shoulder as he peeked at what you were cooking.

You felt his eyes shift lower. Down to what you were wearing.

“Wait…” he whispered. “Is that…”

You glanced down.

The white sundress.

Still folded neatly in your closet after all this time until today.

You turned to face him, eyes playful. “Thought it was time.”

Chanyeol just stared at you like it was the first time all over again.

And then he kissed you.

Deeper. Slower. Like a man who knew exactly what he had and wasn’t planning on letting go.

“You still take my breath away,” he whispered against your lips.

You smiled.

“Good,” you whispered back. “I plan to keep doing it.”

━━━━⊱⋆⊰━━━━

present — 2024

Chapter 15: What Remains

He saw her again that morning.

In the kitchen.

Barefoot. Humming something off-key. That sundress the white one he bought her, the one she wore that day she forgave him swayed softly around her knees as she danced, just a little, to nothing at all.

And for a moment, everything felt real again.

Like it used to.

“Morning,” he said softly.

She turned, smiling. That smile that used to undo him. “Afternoon.”

His heart ached.

He stepped forward, arms moving out of instinct he wanted to hold her again, just one more time

But there was no one there.

Only silence.

The smell of coffee that never brewed.

An empty apartment that hadn’t heard laughter in months.

And that sundress.

Still hanging on the back of the chair.

He walked toward it, trembling fingers brushing the soft fabric. He still remembered the way it looked on her the way the light had caught in her hair, the way she’d smiled when she wore it for him.

The way she’d worn it that day.

The day of the accident.

People had told him the mind plays tricks. That grief could make ghosts out of memories. But he didn’t care. If seeing her even in pieces was all he had left, he’d take it.

He sat at the table.

Closed his eyes.

And for a moment, she was there again.

Smiling. Laughing. Wearing that dress.

And he whispered, broken and quiet

“You never really left me, did you?”

The sundress swayed slightly in the still air.

And he let the illusion stay.

Just a little longer.

━━━━⊱⋆⊰━━━━

Chapter 16: Afterlife in Silence

He stopped answering his friends' calls.

They stopped coming by after a while.

The apartment stayed the same just like it had when she was still here. Her shoes by the door. Her mug still on the counter. The white sundress draped across the chair like it was waiting for her to wear it again.

And every morning, he saw her.

She’d walk into the room, brush her fingers over his shoulder, laugh like windchimes when he burned the toast. Sometimes she’d sing. Sometimes she’d cry.

Sometimes she just looked at him.

And he looked back.

Because he couldn’t let go.

He wouldn’t.

He knew she wasn’t real. Knew what the therapist said grief hallucinations, unresolved trauma, survivor’s guilt. But they didn’t understand. She was more real than any of them. More alive in his memory than anyone walking on the street.

He didn’t go back to the studio. Didn’t write music anymore.

Except for her.

He’d sit at the piano and play the chords of that song the one she used to hum in the shower, the one he never finished. He whispered lyrics into the empty air, hoping she could hear them.

“Stay with me.

Even if you’re only a shadow…”

He stopped visiting the grave. What was the point?

She wasn’t there.

She was here.

In the hallway. In his dreams. In that damn sundress that refused to lose her scent.

And sometimes… sometimes he’d see her standing in the doorway, eyes soft, voice calm.

“Yeol,” she’d whisper. “You have to let me go.”

But he couldn’t.

Because letting her go would mean admitting she was never coming back.

And if he admitted that

He’d have nothing left.

━━━━⊱⋆⊰━━━━

Chapter 17: Final Descent; End Part

Days blurred.

Nights became hallucinations, and mornings brought no peace.

The apartment stayed frozen trapped in the exact second she left the world. Her sundress, still soft and white, stayed untouched. The last real thing he had of her.

He stopped eating.

Stopped sleeping.

Because when he closed his eyes, she’d come to him. And in dreams, she was real. Her fingers in his hair. Her laugh echoing in the hallway. Her lips brushing his, whispering, “It’s okay, I’m here.”

He started talking out loud first quiet murmurs, then full conversations.

Sometimes he swore she responded.

She’d sit beside him at the piano, humming harmonies only he could hear. She’d curl up on the couch, watching old dramas with him, even though the screen was black.

And when he cried, she’d hold him.

At least… he believed she did.

No one visited anymore.

His friends had tried Baekhyun, Jongin, even Sehun showed up once. But every time, they left with tight jaws and watery eyes, whispering things like “He’s not okay” and “We’ve lost him too.”

But Chanyeol didn’t need saving.

He had her.

Even if she wasn’t breathing.

Even if she was just a memory.

Even if the only way to stay with her was to fade into the illusion.

And one evening, as the sky turned the same color as her eyes used to in golden hour, he sat by the window with her sundress in his lap.

He looked at it one last time. Then out the window. Then back at nothing.

“You promised you wouldn’t leave me,” he whispered.

And in the silence, he heard her say

“Then come with me.”

The sundress fluttered slightly from the open window’s breeze.

And the apartment was still.

POV: Y/N (now a spirit)

You never meant to linger.

Most souls passed peacefully drifting upward or beyond, wherever the light led them. But you… you stayed.

You didn’t feel anger. Or pain.

Just one thing

Him.

Chanyeol.

You watched him from the edge of places doorways, windows, mirrors. He couldn’t always see you, but you knew he felt you. When he whispered to the dark. When he left your favorite songs playing on loop. When he clutched your sundress like it was made of something stronger than grief.

And when he broke.

You felt it like lightning.

You tried to speak. Tried to stop him from crumbling. But the barrier between life and death is cruel, and all you could do was watch as the light in his eyes flickered lower, day by day.

Until, one golden evening… he stopped breathing.

And the stillness was… quiet.

Too quiet.

Then suddenly there he was.

Not broken. Not haunted.

Just him.

The real him.

No more shadows under his eyes. No weight in his shoulders. Just Chanyeol, standing in the place between worlds, looking around

And then he saw you.

You weren’t wearing the sundress anymore.

You were the sundress.

Light. Soft. Glowing like the last day he kissed you.

His eyes filled. “Y/N…”

You smiled. “Took you long enough.”

He ran to you like time never passed. Arms around you like life never ended. You buried your face in his chest and felt his heartbeat again real or not, you didn’t care.

“I waited,” you whispered.

“I never stopped seeing you,” he said.

The afterlife didn’t look like heaven. Or hell. It just looked like home.

And as your souls wrapped around each other, no longer bound by grief, time, or flesh

You finally felt whole again.

Forever.

[loeyshine]

Voices Through Time

Epoch Book

•*⁀➷pairing: chanyeol x fem reader

Theme: romance, time-travel mystery, fantasy, past lovers au, different timeline, 90s. “I love you since 1980”.

Description: one telephone takes time to take me to you even though we are drifted aparts for years. You left me, but are we really meant to be?

Playlist: i’ve been waiting for you — las triplets

Chapter 1: The House at the Edge of Time

The train ride was long, stretching endlessly through winding fields and sleepy hills, but you finally arrived at your grandmother’s old countryside home. The house had been untouched for years, creaking with age and filled with the scent of pine and memories. You hadn’t been here since you were a child.

Dust clung to everything as you pushed the door open. A chill brushed over your skin. The house was just as she left it, down to the lace doilies and faded floral wallpaper. You explored, trailing your fingers over antique furniture, until something odd caught your eye in the study an old rotary telephone sitting alone on a small table.

It shouldn’t have been working the phone line had been disconnected years ago. Still, it rang.

You stared at it. It rang again.

Curiosity overrode logic. You picked it up slowly.

“Hello?”

There was silence… then a warm, velvety voice responded.

“…Hello? Who’s this?”

The voice was unfamiliar, male, gentle and confused.

“I… I’m Y/N. I’m visiting my grandma’s house. Who are you?”

A pause.

“This is Park Chanyeol. I live here. You must be joking this house is mine.”

You froze. “That’s impossible.”

“No, what’s impossible is that you’re using this line. It’s connected to my home. No one else is supposed to have this number.”

You blinked. “Chanyeol… what year is it?”

“1980,” he said, cautious.

Your heart stuttered. “It’s 2025 for me.”

━━━━⊱⋆⊰━━━━

Chapter 2: A Voice That Stays

The calls continued. Every evening at the same time, the phone would ring. You and Chanyeol started waiting for each other.

You learned that he was a young musician, living in your grandmother’s house when he was in his early 20s long before she moved in. He loved the guitar, composed songs late at night, and dreamed of a future where he could make music freely. You told him about your world smartphones, EXO, AI, and how the world changed over time. He laughed, fascinated, sometimes teasing you for “making things up.”

But he believed you. Because deep down, he could feel you were real.

You looked forward to the sound of his voice. His laugh. The way he would hum his unfinished songs into the receiver. You recorded them on your phone, promising to keep his music alive.

You told him you wished you could see him.

He told you he sometimes dreamed about you.

━━━━⊱⋆⊰━━━━

Chapter 3: Time's Cruel Thread

One night, you woke up to static on the phone. It never rang, but something told you to pick it up.

“Y/N…” His voice was breaking up. “I think… this might be our last call.”

Your heart dropped. “What? No, no, don’t say that why?”

“I don’t know. Something’s wrong. It’s like the house is… changing. Maybe the phone’s connection to you is fading.”

“I don’t want this to end,” you whispered, choking back tears.

“Me neither,” he said softly. “But before we say goodbye, I want you to know… you made me believe in magic. You gave me songs I never would’ve written. I feel like I’ve known you forever.”

You cried. “I wish I could meet you for real. I wish I could change time.”

He was quiet for a moment.

“Maybe one day… in another life, Y/N.”

━━━━⊱⋆⊰━━━━

Chapter 4: The Song You Left Behind

The phone never rang again.

You stayed in the house a while longer. On your last day, while rummaging through the attic, you found something beneath the floorboards: a dusty journal… with your name on it.

Inside were pages of letters you never wrote but he had. Lyrics, too. One melody was the same as a recording you made during one of your calls. Your hands trembled as you realized…

Chanyeol had known you’d find this.

On the final page was a note:

┃If the stars align and music travels beyond time, maybe you’ll hear me again. Until then, sing my song, Y/N. That way, I’ll always be with you.

┃ Chanyeol, 1999

Back in the city, months later, you heard a busker playing a familiar melody the one Chanyeol hummed. He said it was an old tune he found online, no known artist.

You smiled.

He kept his promise.

Through time, through memory, through music he stayed.

And somehow, you knew…

He was still listening.

━━━━⊱⋆⊰━━━━

Chapter 5: If Time Has a Door

Weeks passed since you returned home, but your heart stayed in that old countryside house and with the voice that belonged to another time.

The melody Chanyeol left behind echoed in your dreams, like a memory that refused to fade. Then one night, as you played the song on your phone, something strange happened. The lights flickered. The air turned heavy. And the old rotary phone the one you took with you as a keepsake rang.

You stared.

It hadn’t made a sound in weeks. Trembling, you picked it up.

“…Y/N?”

You gasped. “Chanyeol?!”

His voice was faint. “I don’t have much time. The connection opened again for a reason. There’s something in the house. A door. It only opens once every 25 years. If you follow the song, you’ll find it.”

Your mind raced. “How? Where?”

He whispered, “Under the attic. Look beneath the journal.”

Then silence.

━━━━⊱⋆⊰━━━━

Chapter 6: The Passage Between Us

You returned to the house immediately. The moment you stepped inside, the air felt different charged. Like it knew.

In the attic, you pulled back the floorboards again. Under the spot where you found the journal, you uncovered a small latch.

It led to a narrow staircase spiraling downward a secret basement.

The walls were covered with sheet music. His handwriting. Your name.

At the center of the room stood a grand mirror. Its surface shimmered like water when you stepped near it. And the melody his melody played softly from nowhere.

You reached out.

And the mirror pulled you in.

━━━━⊱⋆⊰━━━━

Chapter 7: 1980

You landed on soft grass under a starlit sky.

The house stood before you newer, untouched by time.

And standing on the porch, guitar in hand, was him.

Chanyeol.

His eyes widened. He dropped the guitar.

“Y/N?”

You ran to him. Neither of you hesitated. He pulled you into his arms, warm and real. You buried your face in his chest, both laughing and crying.

“You’re real,” he whispered, brushing your hair back. “I hoped… I dreamed this, but—”

“I followed your song,” you breathed. “I’m here.”

He held your hand like it was the most sacred thing in the world. “Then I don’t care how. You’re here. And I’m not letting you go.”

━━━━⊱⋆⊰━━━━

Chapter 8: Borrowed Time

Days passed like magic. You and Chanyeol explored the world of 1980 together dusty record shops, secret lakes, quiet cafés. He wrote songs with you beside him. You taught him how to dance like a 2025 TikTok pro. He made you laugh so hard you forgot time even existed.

But eventually, it caught up.

You started hearing the song in the wind again. The mirror would soon reopen… to take you back.

“Stay,” he whispered one night, holding your hand tightly. “Even if time pulls you away, stay a little longer.”

“I want to,” you said. “But I don’t think I get to choose.”

He kissed you for the first time under starlight, with his music playing faintly in the distance.

“I’ll find a way back to you, no matter how long it takes.”

2025, Again

You woke up in the attic, alone but not empty.

The mirror was gone. The phone never rang again.

But on your phone, a new voice recording appeared. It was Chanyeol’s voice, singing your song. The one you wrote together.

You smiled.

And outside the house, a package waited at the door from a music label. Inside: a newly released vinyl record. The artist?

“Park Chanyeol – Echoes of Y/N”

Recorded: Unknown Origin, Possibly Archival

Maybe it was magic. Maybe it was time folding in on itself. But one thing was certain:

He found his way back.

Through music.

Through love.

Through time.

━━━━⊱⋆⊰━━━━

Chapter 9: A Name in Dust

Back in 2025, everything felt duller.

You returned to the city with Chanyeol’s songs in your ears and his memory in your heart. Even as time moved forward, a part of you was still in 1980 wrapped in his arms, watching stars blink above the countryside house.

You clung to the vinyl he left behind. It was your proof. He had existed. And more than that he had loved you.

One rainy afternoon, curiosity gnawed at you. You searched for him online. There had to be more records, maybe interviews. Something.

But there wasn’t much.

Just one thread a faded article from 2000, under a local news archive:

┃ “Young Musician Park Chanyeol Passes in Tragic Fire”

┃ April 7, 2000 Park Chanyeol, age 23, perished in a sudden fire that consumed the countryside home he was living in. The cause remains unknown. His final compositions were found intact and have since become a local legend, though his name faded with time…

Your fingers trembled.

The house. That house.

The fire happened less than a year after your last meeting.

You read the article again and again, heart breaking open with each line.

He was gone.

He had always been gone.

You fell to your knees on the floor, clutching the vinyl. The last gift he left you.

Tears blurred your vision.

He knew. He must have known. That’s why he said goodbye like it was final. That’s why he sang that last song like it would echo forever.

━━━━⊱⋆⊰━━━━

Chapter 10: The Song Lives On

You returned to the countryside one last time.

The house stood still weathered, quiet, hollow. But in the silence, you heard it: the faintest hum of his song, like the walls remembered him too.

In the garden, you buried a letter.

It read:

┃ I found you too late, but I’ll carry you forever. You weren’t just a voice through time.You were my heart’s echo.

I love you, Chanyeol.

— Y/N

The wind blew softly, brushing your cheeks like fingers.

And you smiled through the tears.

Because love real love doesn’t vanish.

It leaves melodies.

It leaves footprints between lifetimes.

And sometimes…

It lives again.

━━━━⊱⋆⊰━━━━

Chapter 11: The Final Ring

It had been months since you discovered the truth.

Chanyeol had died in a fire, his music left behind like ash and gold. And though the grief still curled tightly around your heart, you’d tried to move on piece by piece, song by song.

You stopped expecting the phone to ring.

Until one night… it did.

The same old rotary phone you kept on your desk as a relic of love that once defied time rang again just once.

You froze.

One ring.

You picked it up with shaking hands. “Hello?”

Silence.

Then:

“…Y/N?”

Your breath caught.

“Chanyeol?”

His voice was fainter than ever. Distant. Echoed.

“I don’t have much time,” he whispered. “This is the last call. The time tether is ending.”

Your eyes filled. “I thought you were gone.”

“I am,” he said gently. “But the universe… let me speak to you one more time. I needed to tell you the truth. About why we found each other.”

“What do you mean?”

“You should ask your mother… about your grandparents. About the house. I think… you’re more connected to me than either of us realized.”

Static crackled.

“Wait Chanyeol, don’t go yet—!”

“I love you, Y/N. And I always will.”

Click.

The line went dead.

━━━━⊱⋆⊰━━━━

Chapter 12: Blood in the Roots

You went straight to your mother’s house, heart pounding like thunder in your chest.

She was in the kitchen, surprised to see you so late.

“Mom… can I ask you something?”

“Of course.”

You hesitated. “Do you know someone named Park Chanyeol?”

Her expression changed. Like a ghost had passed through her. “Why are you asking?”

“Because… I met him. A long time ago, I think. At grandma’s house.”

She stared at you for a long time.

Then quietly, she pulled out a photo album from a drawer. Flipping through pages, she stopped at one a black-and-white photo. Young faces. The old house in the background.

She pointed.

“That’s him.”

Your breath caught.

Chanyeol.

You traced the image with your fingers. “Who was he?”

She hesitated. “Your grandmother’s… first love.”

“What?”

“They met when she was very young, before she married your grandfather. He lived in that house before she did. He was a musician. She said they were soulmates… but he died young. In a fire.”

You sat down, stunned. “Why didn’t anyone ever tell me?”

“I didn’t think it mattered,” your mom said softly. “I didn’t even know his name until I found her letters after she passed. She kept a photo of him hidden in her journal. I think… a part of her never stopped loving him.”

Your heart raced. “But… I talked to him, Mom. *I talked to him.*”

She stared at you, wide-eyed.

You whispered, “He knew me. Loved me. And somehow… he came back for me.”

━━━━⊱⋆⊰━━━━

Chapter 13: Full Circle

Later that night, you returned to the house. You placed the photo next to the rotary phone.

For the first time, everything made sense.

He wasn’t just a stranger from the past.

He was your grandmother’s lost love.

And somehow by fate, by blood, by something cosmic you had been the one to find him again.

To love him.

To say goodbye for her.

To close the circle.

You picked up the phone one last time, even though it didn’t ring.

You whispered into the silence:

“Thank you for finding me, even across time.

You were her great love… and mine too.”

━━━━⊱⋆⊰━━━━

Chapter 14: A Year Without Him

It had been one year since the last call.

One year since the voice you loved slipped through time and silence.

And though life continued, part of you had stayed back there with the songs, the letters, the boy in the past.

But you kept your promise to him. You lived.

You graduated college with a degree in literature, your thesis titled “Echoes Between Lifetimes: A Love That Time Forgot.” You were now a published writer, known for weaving love and mystery into stories no one believed could be real stories only you knew were true.

Still, there were quiet nights when you would sit with the old phone, your fingers brushing the dial, heart aching for the voice that once whispered, “I love you.”

You’d stopped expecting magic.

Until it found you again.

━━━━⊱⋆⊰━━━━

Chapter 15: The Boy with His Voice

You were walking out of a bookstore café near your new internship, your tote bag filled with draft manuscripts and notebooks. The spring breeze was soft, and a familiar song was playing overhead his melody.

You weren’t watching where you were going. Neither was he.

Thud.

You both stumbled, and your papers flew to the ground.

“Oh! I’m so sorry,” he said, crouching to help you gather them.

You froze.

That voice.

You slowly looked up.

And your heart… stopped.

Him.

Same eyes. Same smile. Same way he tucked his lower lip in when he was nervous.

But his hair was shorter now. He wore a denim jacket. No guitar in sight.

And yet you knew. You knew.

“You okay?” he asked, handing you the papers with an easy grin.

You nodded, too stunned to speak.

“I’m Chanmin,” he said. “New editor at the publishing house across the street. I think fate wanted me to run into you. Literally.”

You forced a laugh, your fingers trembling. “I’m… Y/N.”

“Nice to meet you, Y/N.” He hesitated. “Have we… met before?”

You stared at him, searching his eyes, heart thundering. “You remind me of someone I used to know.”

He tilted his head. “Someone important?”

You nodded. “The most important.”

He smiled faintly, like something deep inside him recognized the weight of that.

“Well, if I reminded you of someone beautiful, I’m flattered.”

You smiled, heart aching, burning, hoping.

He handed you the last page. It was one of your short stories the one about a girl who fell in love with a boy through a telephone across time.

His fingers brushed yours.

And in that tiny second, you saw it.

A flicker in his eyes. A flash of memory. Like a chord struck from a song long forgotten.

And he whispered, quietly, like a deja vu

“…Have we ever talked on the phone?”

━━━━⊱⋆⊰━━━━

Chapter 16: The Last Melody

You didn’t answer.

Instead, you looked at him this man who was once your ghost, your heartbreak, your time-trapped love now standing in front of you again.

Not as a memory.

Not as a voice.

But as a beginning.

You smiled. “Do you like music?”

He grinned. “I play guitar.”

Of course he did.

“Then maybe,” you said softly, “you’d like to get coffee and talk about our favorite songs.”

And as you walked away side by side, you knew

Love had remembered.

Time had forgiven.

And fate had rewritten your ending.

This wasn’t the past.

This was your forever.

━━━━⊱⋆⊰━━━━

Chapter 17: The Song He Never Knew

It had been months since you met again or rather, met him, all over again.

Chanmin. That was his name now.

He was your colleague, your partner in stories, your afternoon coffee, your night-long conversation. You didn’t tell him the truth not yet. You didn’t need to. Some truths find their way home without words.

And he kept surprising you in all the ways only he could.

Like the way he strummed his guitar when he thought no one was listening. Or how he always hummed the same haunting melody while editing a tune that had no name, one you’d only heard once before

His song.

One night, you found him in his apartment, sitting on the floor surrounded by sheets of music and worn-out notebooks.

“I found this old cassette,” he said, holding up a dusty box. “I don’t remember ever recording it. But it sounds like me. And the song… it hurts, in a way I can’t explain.”

He played it.

Your breath caught.

It was your song. The one he left behind in the past. The one only the two of you ever knew.

Tears filled your eyes.

Chanmin stared at the speaker, completely still. Then his hands slowly moved to the guitar.

Without a word, he played along every note perfect.

Like muscle memory from another life.

And when the last chord faded, he looked up at you.

“I don’t know why… but I feel like this song was meant for someone I lost. Someone I promised I’d find again.”

You moved closer, kneeling beside him.

“You did,” you whispered, placing your hand over his heart. “You found her.”

He stared at you, as if seeing you truly seeing you for the first time.

And for a flickering moment…

You saw him too.

Not Chanmin.

But Park Chanyeol.

His eyes softened. “Y/N…”

You smiled through the tears. “Welcome home.”

He pulled you into his arms.

No more phone lines.

No more static.

No more goodbyes.

Just two hearts that had waited across lifetimes…

And finally, found their way back.

━━━━⊱⋆⊰━━━━

Final Chapter: Love, Remembered

Seasons passed quietly. Life returned to its steady rhythm. But this time, you weren’t alone.

Chanmin was by your side. The boy who didn’t remember the lifetimes he once lived but remembered you in every way that mattered.

You never told him everything. You didn’t have to.

Some days, he would catch you staring at the old rotary phone on your shelf.

“You really love vintage things,” he’d tease.

You would smile. “It reminds me of how everything started.”

One night, you gave him a copy of your book Echoes Between Lifetimes. He stayed up all night reading it.

The next morning, his eyes were puffy, red. He didn’t say much. Just held you a little tighter. As if some hidden truth in his soul had stirred… and whispered, this was us.

You married two years later. Not in a grand hall, but in the garden behind your grandmother’s house the place where the past had first whispered to you.

Soft music played. Petals danced in the wind. The same melody from long ago drifted through the air now performed live by Chanmin, who still didn’t know where the song came from.

Only that it felt like home.

As he sang, you looked up at him and thought of the first time you heard his voice on that old phone. The boy from the past. The love lost in flame. The soul reborn into your world.

He wasn’t a ghost anymore.

He was yours fully, finally, forever.

And on your wedding night, as you watched him sleep beneath the moonlight, you leaned close and whispered:

“I found you again.

You came back to me.”

In his sleep, he smiled.

As if some part of him had always known.

But love like this?

It never truly ends.

It simply begins again… in another life.

[loeyshine]

A Dream is a Wish

Epoch Book

•*⁀➷pairing: chanyeol x fem reader

Theme: laughter-filled, and tucked away from the public eye, past stories, princess playtime, family gathering. “So this is love... so this is what makes life divine."

Description: a one musical princess melody would make me in a spotlight castle? but being with you, happens i’m safe having the old me.

Playlist: i see the light — mandy moore, zachary levi

Chapter 1:

The soft hum of chatter floated through the house, mixing with the clinking of plates and the sizzling aroma of your family’s signature barbecue. You hadn’t felt this relaxed in months. No flashing cameras, no screaming fans, no tight schedules. Just your family and Chanyeol, who blended into the chaos like he’d always belonged there.

He was on the porch with your older brothers, laughing over a beer and probably getting teased about his height again. You stood in the living room, barefoot and comfy in your oversized hoodie, helping your little niece Mia color on the floor when she suddenly turned to you with the widest eyes.

“Unnie,” she said sweetly, tugging your sleeve. “Can you sing the princess song again? The one from Cinderella? The wish one?”

You blinked, surprised. “You remember that?”

“She watches it like five times a day,” your sister-in-law called from the kitchen with a laugh. “And she swears you sing it better than the movie.”

You smiled, brushing Mia’s bangs out of her eyes. “Alright, princess. Just for you.”

Mia squealed and clapped her hands as you stood and walked over to the old upright piano in the corner of the room. Your fingers hovered above the keys nostalgia flooding in. This piano had seen your very first notes. It was where your musical theatre dreams were born, years before K-pop turned you into a global star.

You glanced outside through the open screen door. Chanyeol’s laughter quieted as he noticed you at the piano. You caught his gaze. He raised an eyebrow, curious.

And then you began.

┃ "A dream is a wish your heart makes..."

Your voice was soft, airy, controlled decades of training hidden beneath every graceful note. You played the melody like second nature, your fingers dancing across the keys as if the piano had missed you, too.

As the second verse came, you heard the subtle hush spread through the house. Your brothers had walked in, leaning against the doorway with soft smiles. Mia sat at your feet, eyes glued to you like she was truly watching a princess.

And Chanyeol?

He stood at the edge of the room, arms crossed, eyes fixed on you like he’d never seen you beforelike you were brand new.

You finished the final note gently, letting it float into silence. A second passed before the room erupted in gentle applause. Mia immediately ran up to hug your leg.

“Unnie, you’re like magic,” she whispered.

You laughed and ruffled her hair, cheeks warm with affection.

But it was Chanyeol who crossed the room to you first. He didn’t say anything at first just stared down at you, lips slightly parted, eyes shining with something deeper than pride.

“You didn’t tell me you used to sing like that,” he finally said, his voice a bit huskier than usual.

“I didn’t think it was important anymore,” you replied shyly, brushing your hair behind your ear.

“It’s important to me,” he said, gently tucking that same strand of hair back behind your ear with a fond smile. “That was... breathtaking. You looked like you were home.”

“I am home.”

His hand slid into yours, squeezing gently. “Then I’m glad I’m here with you.”

The family faded into the background for a moment, leaving just you and him in that stillness. You leaned your head against his shoulder, and he kissed the top of your head.

And somewhere below you, Mia whispered to herself in awe

“Someday I’m gonna be just like unnie.”

━━━━⊱⋆⊰━━━━

Chapter 2:

The room was still warm with the remnants of your song, your fingers still resting lightly on the piano keys. Mia had her arms wrapped around your leg, her big eyes blinking up at you with wonder.

“Unnie,” she said quietly, “are you... are you a real princess?”

You blinked, caught off guard, then laughed softly. “What makes you say that?”

“You sing like one,” she said seriously. “And you’re really pretty. And you live in a castle in Korea, right? With all your clothes and lights and people?”

Before you could respond, Chanyeol leaned down next to her, resting his arms on his knees and flashing a mischievous grin. “Of course she’s a princess,” he said. “Didn’t you know? I had to slay a dragon just to date her.”

Mia gasped.

You looked at him, biting back a laugh. “A dragon?”

He winked at you. “A really scary one. Named Sasaeng.”

Your brothers snorted with laughter from the doorway, while Mia stared between you both with complete seriousness. “Then... if unnie is a princess...” she turned slowly to Chanyeol, “does that make you her prince?”

Chanyeol looked at you for approval, and you nodded with a soft smile. He puffed out his chest proudly. “That’s right. Prince Chanyeol. At your service.”

Mia squealed in delight. “I wanna play princess! Can we play, unnie? Pleeease?”

You chuckled, giving in immediately. “Alright, Princess Mia. Let’s go find your crown.”

Fifteen Minutes Later…

You sat cross-legged in the middle of the living room, now completely transformed into a royal playroom. A pink towel was tied around Mia’s neck like a cape, and her plastic tiara was slightly crooked on her head. You wore a sparkly headband from the guest room, and Chanyeol oh god had one of your mom’s floral aprons tied around his shoulders like a royal cloak.

“I dub thee... Prince Giant,” Mia declared, tapping Chanyeol’s shoulder with a spatula.

Chanyeol knelt, pretending to bow like a knight. “Thank you, your highness. I shall guard the kingdom with my life.”

You giggled as Mia turned to you. “Princess Y/N, we need to save the unicorns from the evil goblins!”

“Lead the way, brave Princess Mia!” you said, scooping her up and spinning her in the air.

From the hallway, your brother whispered to your mom, “Are they seriously acting out a whole Disney movie right now?”

Your mom just smiled. “Let them be. She hasn’t laughed like this in weeks.”

Back in your makeshift kingdom, Chanyeol was dramatically fighting off invisible goblins with a rolled-up newspaper. Mia shouted directions. You followed her lead like it was second nature.

You weren’t an idol. You weren’t a retired theatre prodigy. You weren’t a superstar.

You were just you singing at the piano, playing on the floor, laughing with your family.

And Chanyeol, your prince, fit right into your fairytale.

Later that night, after Mia had fallen asleep in your arms, Chanyeol tucked a blanket around her tiny frame and whispered, “You were really something back there, Princess.”

You smiled at him, brushing a stray hair from your niece’s forehead. “So were you, Giant Prince.”

He leaned down and kissed you gently, softly. “Let’s have a little princess of our own one day,” he whispered.

You laughed against his chest. “Only if you promise to wear that apron again.”

━━━━⊱⋆⊰━━━━

Chapter 3:

The princess games had ended hours ago. Mia was tucked into bed, the house had quieted down, and the warm orange hue of the evening sun filtered through the curtains. You were curled up on the living room floor, sharing a blanket with Chanyeol, his arm around your shoulder as you both sipped on hot tea.

Your mom walked in with a cardboard box cradled in her arms and a suspiciously proud smile on her face.

“Uh-oh,” you murmured.

“What’s that?” Chanyeol asked, already intrigued.

“Oh, just a few things from Y/N’s old theatre days,” your mom said sweetly as she placed the box in the middle of the room.

You immediately sat up. “Mom no. No, no, no, please—”

But it was too late. She’d already opened the box and pulled out a thick scrapbook bursting with photos, playbills, and glittery stickers. Your brothers heard the commotion and immediately gathered around like sharks smelling blood.

“Is that the Anastasia folder?!” one of them cackled.

“Oppa, hush,” you groaned, burying your face in your hands.

Chanyeol looked absolutely delighted. “Wait. Anastasia? As in Anya Anastasia?”

“Oh yeah,” your mom beamed, flipping open a scrapbook page. “She was the lead. Our little star.”

You peeked through your fingers in horror as Chanyeol leaned closer to see a photo of you, maybe fifteen years old, in a breathtaking blue gown, tiara slightly askew, with a mic taped to your cheek and stars in your eyes.

He let out a soft laugh not mocking, but genuinely in awe.

“Woah. Y/N... you looked like you were born for that role.”

Your mom giggled. “She was. You should’ve seen her. She’d come home every night humming 'Once Upon a December.’ The director even cried on closing night.”

“Oh my god,” you groaned, hiding behind the blanket. “Why are we doing this.”

But Chanyeol gently pulled the blanket down from your face, his eyes warm and sincere.

“I love this,” he whispered. “You were... radiant.”

And then your mom, traitor that she was, hit play on an old DVD.

The screen lit up with grainy footage of teenage you standing center stage, snow falling behind you, soft orchestral music playing and then you began to sing.

┃ “Dancing bears, painted wings, things I almost remember...”

Chanyeol watched, captivated. You fidgeted beside him, mortified but unable to look away either. The camera zoomed in slightly your younger self’s eyes shimmering as you sang with heartfelt intensity, your voice already trained and soaring.

┃ “Far away, long ago, glowing dim as an ember...”

You hugged your knees, face burning. “I can’t believe you’re seeing this.”

Chanyeol leaned his head against yours, still watching the screen. “I’m glad I am. It’s like... watching the girl you used to be fall into the woman you’ve become.”

You went quiet at that.

Your mom gave you both a knowing smile and quietly left the room, closing the door behind her.

The song ended. Your younger self bowed. The crowd on the video erupted in applause.

Back in the present, Chanyeol finally turned to you with a grin. “You were a real princess.”

You gave him a playful shove, half-laughing, half-dying inside. “Shut up.”

He caught your hand and laced his fingers through yours. “No, really. You’ve always had this magic in you. And I’m... lucky I get to see all the sides of you. Even the sparkly, tiara-wearing theatre kid.”

You groaned dramatically and buried your face in his chest. “I should’ve just shown you my high school math scores instead.”

He chuckled and kissed the top of your head. “Nah. This is way better.”

You sighed, finally relaxing. “You’re gonna bring this up every time we pass a stage, aren’t you?”

Chanyeol grinned. “You know I am. I’m already picturing us doing a duet.”

You lifted your head to stare at him. “Oh no.”

He smirked. “Oh yes.”

━━━━⊱⋆⊰━━━━

Chapter 4:

The next evening came soft and slow, with golden light pouring in through the living room windows. After a long day of games, food, and laughter, the house had finally settled. Mia was down for a nap, your family had scattered to their rooms, and you and Chanyeol found yourselves alone again

this time in the backyard under the string lights your dad had hung for summer nights like these.

You were sitting on the back porch steps, your acoustic guitar in your lap, barefoot, the ends of your hoodie sleeves pulled over your hands. Chanyeol sat beside you, lazily strumming his own guitar and humming some random EXO melody.

You nudged him with your elbow. “Wanna do something cheesy?”

He looked up with a smirk. “Define cheesy.”

You wiggled your brows. “Disney duet cheesy.”

Chanyeol narrowed his eyes. “No.”

“Come on,” you whined, already shifting to tune your strings. “You literally told me yesterday you wanted to do a duet.”

“I meant like... a cool duet. Something with electric guitars. Not a princess movie.”

“Tangled is cool.”

He rolled his eyes. “You’re just trying to relive your theatre days.”

“And you’re afraid to sing a love song with me,” you teased, bumping your shoulder into his.

He scoffed. “Please. I’ve sung full-on ballads in stadiums.”

“Then prove it, Prince Giant,” you challenged, handing him the extra lyrics sheet you’d already printed out. “We’re doing ‘I See the Light.’ You’re Flynn. I’m Rapunzel. No arguments.”

He stared at the paper. Then at you. Then back at the paper.

“You had this ready.”

“I always come prepared.”

Chanyeol let out a long, suffering sigh. “Fine. But if I cry halfway through, it’s your fault.”

You grinned, settling into your spot beside him as you both adjusted your guitars and shared a mic clipped to the small portable stand.

You started the intro, your fingers dancing along the strings gently. A few chords in, your voice entered soft and dreamy:

┃“All those days watching from the windows…”

Chanyeol’s eyes were on you, already lost in the way your voice fit the air so naturally. When his turn came, he joined in without hesitation, his tone deep, warm, and steady

┃“All those years outside looking in…”

As the duet carried on, your voices blended like they were made to. Every chord, every harmony felt like falling into a dream you didn’t want to wake from.

And then came the chorus together

┃ “And at last I see the light…”

┃“And it’s like the fog has lifted…”

Your eyes met as you sang, the string lights above you glowing softly. It wasn’t just a duet anymore. It was a confession. A memory. A moment just for you two.

┃“All at once, everything looks different… now that I see you.”

As the final note faded, the night air felt impossibly still.

Chanyeol didn’t say anything right away. He just stared at you, the corner of his lips curled into the kind of smile that made your chest ache in the best way.

You looked down, cheeks flushed. “Okay, fine. Maybe it was a little cheesy.”

He shook his head, slowly setting his guitar aside. “No. It was perfect.”

You met his eyes again, and suddenly he leaned in, pressing a soft, lingering kiss to your lips.

When he pulled back, he whispered, “I’ve sung thousands of songs... but none of them ever felt like that.”

You smiled, brushing his hair back from his face. “That’s because this one was just for us.”

Later that night

you posted a tiny clip of the performance to your private friends-only Instagram story. You didn’t tag him. Just a caption:

🫣🎶 At last, I see the light...

Chanyeol reposted it five minutes later with:

👑💡 Found my princess.

━━━━⊱⋆⊰━━━━

Chapter 5:

The backyard was quiet now. The guitars were resting on their stands, the tea had long gone cold, and the string lights flickered softly overhead. You were curled into Chanyeol’s side on a cushioned porch bench, your head on his chest, his arms wrapped securely around you like he didn’t ever plan on letting go.

He was tracing slow circles on your arm, both of you half-lost in the kind of peaceful silence that only came when you were wrapped up in each other. The stars above blinked in quiet approval.

“I could stay like this forever,” you murmured.

Chanyeol pressed a kiss to the top of your head. “Same. I think this is the part in the story where the prince and princess live happily ever—”

The screen door creaked.

You both sat up quickly as a tiny voice broke through the night.

“Unnie?”

Mia stood barefoot in the doorway, clutching her bunny plushie, her hair adorably messy from sleep and her voice small.

“I woke up. And you weren’t in the castle,” she said sadly.

You opened your arms instantly, and she rushed into them. “Aww, sweetheart. I’m right here. I was just outside with Prince Giant.”

Chanyeol gave a royal bow from his seat. “Good evening, Princess Mia.”

Mia looked at him very seriously, then at the cozy space between you two on the bench. “Are you two in love?”

You and Chanyeol exchanged a stunned glance, then burst out laughing.

“Yes,” you said honestly, lifting her into your lap. “Very much.”

She beamed and settled herself between the two of you like she belonged there all along. “Can you tell me a royal bedtime story now? Please?”

Chanyeol grinned, eyes gleaming. “Oh, we can definitely do that.”

You wrapped your arms around Mia and leaned your head on Chanyeol’s shoulder again. “Alright, let’s see... Once upon a time, in a kingdom far, far away...”

“There lived a brave and sparkly princess!” Mia cut in.

“And a very tall, very awkward prince who couldn’t dance but had a beautiful singing voice,” Chanyeol added with a wink at you.

You nodded, continuing, “They met in a forest where the princess was playing the piano, and the prince got lost on his way to a concert.”

“And she saved him,” Mia giggled.

“And then she made him sing Disney songs against his will,” Chanyeol muttered with mock betrayal.

You both laughed as you wrapped Mia tighter in the blanket, rocking her gently as your voices softened with the rhythm of the tale.

“And they fell in love,” you whispered, “not just because of music, or the stage, or the stars... but because they saw each other for who they really were.”

Mia’s eyes were already fluttering shut as she mumbled, “That’s the best story ever.”

A few minutes later, she was fast asleep in your arms, her bunny tucked under her chin.

Chanyeol reached over, gently brushing a strand of hair from your face. “You're really something, you know?”

You smiled, heart full, gazing at the peaceful little girl curled between you. “We’re something. All three of us. It’s a fairytale I never thought I’d live in.”

He leaned forward, kissed your temple, and whispered, “Then let’s keep writing it together.”

━━━━⊱⋆⊰━━━━

Chapter 6:

The morning sun filtered through the curtains, casting a lazy glow over the living room. The scent of pancakes and brewing coffee drifted through the house, mixing with soft chatter and clinking dishes from the kitchen.

You were still in your pajama shorts and oversized tee, hair in a messy bun, sitting cross-legged on the floor with Mia braiding ribbons into your hair like a dedicated royal stylist.

Chanyeol walked in, groggy and adorable, in a hoodie and sweatpants, rubbing his eyes. “Morning, princesses.”

Mia waved a spoon at him. “Prince Giant, come sit! I’m making unnie a ceremonial royal braid.”

Chanyeol plopped down beside you and kissed your cheek. “I feel honored just being here.”

Just then, your oldest brother strolled by, holding a ukulele. “Hey, Y/N. Remember this?”

You blinked. “Oh god, that dusty thing still exists?”

He grinned. “It’s still in tune. Kind of. Wanna jam?”

You raised a brow. “Right now?”

“Why not?”

“Why not? Because it’s 10 a.m. and I’m literally being braided into a medieval braid cage.”

Chanyeol perked up. “Wait, wait. You guys jam together?”

Your second brother entered with a cajón drum from the garage. “Uh, yeah. Our entire childhood was a band rehearsal. Did you think Y/N got all that stage presence from nowhere?”

Chanyeol’s eyes widened. “This is the content I signed up for.”

So just like that, the sleepy living room transformed into an impromptu stage. Mia became the royal audience, sitting cross-legged on a blanket, clapping her hands with excitement. Your brothers tuned their makeshift instruments while you grabbed your acoustic guitar.

You sat down in the center and strummed a few chords, warming up. “Okay... what song?”

Your younger brother grinned. “What about Can’t Help Falling in Love? Classic, easy harmonies.”

You glanced at Chanyeol. “You in?”

He smirked, already grabbing his guitar. “Always.”

And then it began soft, mellow, magical. You started the melody, your voice sweet and nostalgic. Chanyeol joined in perfectly on harmony, his deep tone sending actual chills down your spine. Your brothers backed you both effortlessly, the ukulele and drum giving the whole thing a folksy, acoustic vibe that filled the room with soul.

┃ 🎶 Wise men say... only fools rush in...

┃But I can’t help... falling in love with you...

Mia swayed with her bunny, clapping after every verse.

Your mom poked her head in from the kitchen, eyes sparkling, mouthing don’t stop.

And when you and Chanyeol hit the last note eyes locked, fingers still on strings there was a second of pure silence before your family burst into cheers and whooping.

“You two sound like a whole OST!” your brother shouted.

Your dad even clapped from the hallway, coffee mug in hand. “When’s the album dropping?”

You were laughing too hard to answer. Chanyeol looked dazed in the best way.

“I think I just got adopted,” he whispered to you.

You nudged him playfully. “Only if you survive round two. Next up: ABBA medley.”

His eyes widened. “You’re joking, right?”

You grinned. “Oh, Prince Giant... do I look like I’m joking?”

━━━━⊱⋆⊰━━━━

Chapter 7:

The last morning of your vacation arrived quietly. The house was still, the suitcases by the door half-zipped, and the laughter from the past few days hung in the air like the last note of a song.

You were in the kitchen packing snacks for the drive back to Seoul, when you noticed Chanyeol was nowhere to be seen.

You stepped out into the backyard, still in your hoodie and slippers and that’s when you spotted him.

He was sitting on the patio bench with your dad, both sipping coffee under the soft morning sun.

You paused.

They weren’t talking much. Just sitting there, two quiet, thoughtful men. Then your dad finally said, “She’s always been special, you know. Since the day she was born.”

Chanyeol gave a small, warm smile. “I know.”

Your dad glanced at him. “She doesn’t let just anyone into her world. You being here? With us like this? That means something.”

Chanyeol looked down at his mug, then nodded. “It means everything to me. I never had this growing up. Not like this.”

Your dad smiled. “Well, you do now. We like having you around. Even if you do take the last pancake every time.”

Chanyeol laughed, sheepish. “I swear I didn’t know it was the last one.”

Just then, the screen door creaked open again.

It was Mia, holding something behind her back.

She tiptoed over to Chanyeol, serious and dramatic in the way only a 5-year-old princess could be.

“Prince Giant,” she said solemnly.

Chanyeol knelt down to her level. “Yes, Your Majesty?”

She revealed her gift: a handmade paper crown decorated with stickers, glitter glue, and what looked suspiciously like a sequin from your old dance costume.

“I made this for you. So you won’t forget your royal duties.”

Chanyeol’s eyes softened as he took it carefully, like it was made of gold. “This is the greatest treasure I’ve ever received.”

Mia beamed. “You have to wear it when you miss me, okay?”

He placed it on his head with exaggerated pride. “It shall never leave my royal chambers.”

She giggled and threw her arms around his neck in a tight hug. “I love you, Prince Giant.”

He held her close, voice thick with emotion. “I love you too, Princess Mia.”

You stepped forward quietly and slipped your hand into his. “Looks like you’ve officially been knighted into the family.”

He smiled at you, the paper crown still proudly in place. “Best title I’ve ever earned.”

Later, when you finally got into the car, you looked over at him as he buckled his seatbelt. He still had the crown in his lap, carefully protected.

“You’re really keeping it?” you asked.

He turned to you, completely serious. “If you think I’m ever letting this out of my sight, you don’t know how attached I am to my new kingdom.”

You laughed softly, reaching over to hold his hand.

As the car pulled away from your family home, you looked in the rearview mirror your parents and Mia waving from the porch. Your heart swelled with the warmth of belonging.

And Chanyeol?

He leaned his head back against the seat, closed his eyes, and whispered, “Let’s come back here again. Soon.”

You smiled.

“I was hoping you’d say that.”

━━━━⊱⋆⊰━━━━

Chapter 8: Final Chapter

Rain tapped gently against the apartment windows, the city outside glowing dim with misty golden streetlights. It was nearly midnight when you heard the soft click of the door unlocking.

You peeked your head out from the bedroom, wearing your comfiest sweatshirt, a sleepy playlist humming softly through the speakers. “Yeol?”

No response.

You tiptoed into the living room and there he was.

Chanyeol had collapsed on the couch, arms spread wide, one foot still wearing a shoe, his bag half-open on the floor.

Fast asleep.

And on his head slightly crooked, slightly crumpled was Mia’s glittery, handcrafted paper crown.

You stared, lips parting in surprise, then slowly broke into a smile that warmed your whole chest.

You walked over quietly, kneeling beside him.

His lashes fluttered slightly, and he murmured, eyes still closed, “Don’t take it off.”

You blinked. “You’re awake?”

“Barely,” he whispered hoarsely. “Had a rough day. I missed home. So… I put it on.”

Your heart cracked open.

“You’re such a softie,” you whispered, brushing his hair gently. “My royal dork.”

He cracked the tiniest grin. “It helps. Makes me feel like I belong somewhere… even when everything’s loud.”

You cupped his cheek, kissed his temple. “You do belong. With me. Always.”

He slowly opened his eyes, heavy-lidded but filled with all the love in the world. “Stay here with me?”

You grabbed the throw blanket from the armrest, gently covered both of you, and curled into his side.

The crown tipped sideways as he leaned his head on yours.

“I love you,” he murmured, drifting again.

“I love you more,” you whispered, fingers laced with his, your other hand carefully straightening the paper crown like it was made of gold.

Somewhere far away, in a little girl’s room, another paper crown sat waiting on a shelf.

But this one creased, worn, and glitter-stained was proof that fairytales don’t end when the credits roll.

Sometimes… they just go to sleep on your couch.

[loeyshine]

Can’t Look Away

Epoch Book

•*⁀➷pairing: chanyeol x fem reader

Theme: strangers to lovers, mature relationship, love at first sight, hungry love, “touch me as if it’s the last time”.

Description: his eyes have been spooring you all night and you’re more than primed to sever that restraint he erode like armor.

Playlist: careless whisper — george michael

Chapter 1:

The party is loud, lights flashing red and gold across the rooftop, but Chanyeol only sees you.

You're leaning on the bar, sipping from your drink like you don’t have a single care in the world except you do notice the way his eyes have been tracking you all night. And you’re more than ready to break that self-control he wears like armor.

You walk up to him slowly, hips swaying just enough to make him shift in his seat. His gaze trails down and back up like he’s trying not to look, but failing miserably.

“You're staring,” you tease, setting your drink beside his.

“Maybe I like what I see,” he replies, voice low, almost a growl.

He leans in slightly, expecting you to back off like most girls do when he gets intense. But you don’t. You step closer. Close enough that your hand brushes his chest, fingers toying with the chain around his neck.

“That so?” you whisper, tugging lightly. “Because I haven’t even started yet.”

His breath catches.

There’s a flicker of tension his body going still, his eyes darkening. You’ve got him. The confident, untouchable Chanyeol is suddenly just a man trying not to lose his mind over the way your lips curl up in a smirk.

“Careful,” he murmurs, backing up a step, his voice rough. “You keep looking at me like that, I’m not gonna be responsible for what happens next.”

“Good,” you smile, stepping forward. “That’s exactly what I want.”

━━━━⊱⋆⊰━━━━

Chapter 2:

Chanyeol’s breath is hot against your cheek now, his towering frame caging you in against the cool rooftop railing. The city lights glow behind you, but his eyes never leave yours.

“You’ve got a dangerous mouth, you know that?” he mutters, voice like velvet and smoke.

You smirk. “So do you. What are you going to do about it?”

That’s all it takes.

He closes the distance in a heartbeat one hand gripping your waist, the other sliding up your neck, fingers grazing your jaw with just enough pressure to tilt your head. His lips crash into yours like he’s been starving all night.

God, he tastes like heat and hunger.

His kiss is rough, needy the kind that says he’s been holding back way too long. His hand on your waist tightens, pulling you flush against his chest. You can feel the hard lines of his body under that fitted shirt, every muscle tensing as you press into him.

“You think you’re in control, don’t you,” he breathes into your mouth between kisses.

“I was,” you tease, nipping his bottom lip. “Until you touched me like that.”

He growls an actual growl low in his throat, then lifts you like you weigh nothing, setting you up on the edge of the railing. Your legs instinctively wrap around his waist, locking him in. His mouth drops to your neck, tracing fire along your skin.

“Tell me to stop,” he whispers, voice hoarse.

“I won’t,” you breathe. “I want more.”

His hand slides up your thigh, gripping firmly, possessively. The kiss deepens, messier now—lips parted, tongues teasing, his teeth dragging against yours like he’s trying to memorize how you taste.

You feel his heart hammering against your chest, matching your own erratic pulse.

He pulls back just an inch, pupils blown wide, lips swollen from your kiss.

“This isn’t just a game to me,” he says, voice low and honest. “You don’t get to seduce me and walk away.”

You grin, leaning in close, brushing your lips against his again.

“Who said I was walking away?”

━━━━⊱⋆⊰━━━━

Chapter 3:

The door barely clicks shut before Chanyeol’s hands are on you again.

His mouth crashes into yours with none of the restraint he had before no teasing, no hesitation. Just pure hunger. He lifts you effortlessly, your legs wrapping around his waist like muscle memory, lips still locked as he walks you backward into the suite.

You feel his body moving over yours as he lays you down on the bed, following you down like a man who’s waited way too long. He doesn’t rush no, he takes his time, dragging his lips down your jaw, your neck, his deep voice murmuring against your skin.

“You don’t get it, do you?” he says, breathless. “You started this but now it’s mine to finish.”

His fingers trail down your side, slow and possessive, slipping beneath your top. The heat of his hand against your bare waist makes you arch instinctively.

“You’re shaking,” he whispers against your collarbone.

“I’m not,” you lie, breath hitching.

“Then why,” he growls, “do you feel like fire in my hands?”

He pulls back just enough to look at you dark, disheveled, eyes full of raw want. The way he stares, it’s like he’s seeing every piece of you... and claiming it all.

Then, like a switch flipped, his lips are back on yours urgent now, deeper, hungrier. His body presses into you, fitting perfectly, every movement sparking friction and need.

His voice drops lower, rougher.

“Tell me what you want, Y/N.”

“You,” you gasp. “All of you.”

That’s all he needs.

His shirt’s off in one swift pull broad chest, toned arms, that tattoo peeking near his ribs. You can barely process how stupidly gorgeous he looks in this lighting before he’s tugging your clothes away too, with reverence and fire in every touch.

“Look at you,” he murmurs, eyes locked on yours. “You were made to ruin me.”

And ruin him you do.

Your bodies tangle under the sheets, breathless moans and deep groans filling the room as he finally lets go hands gripping, lips exploring, hips rolling with practiced, devastating rhythm. He gives everything, and demands the same in return. You’re not just touching you’re devouring each other.

Every whisper, every kiss, every press of his body is a promise:

You wanted him? You’ve got him now. Completely.

━━━━⊱⋆⊰━━━━

Chapter 4:

Sunlight slips between the blinds, casting soft gold across tangled sheets and bare skin. Your body aches in the best way possible as you slowly blink awake, the night’s memories flooding back in waves of heat.

Your limbs are wrapped in warmth, and not just the blanket.

Chanyeol is still there, arm slung across your waist, face buried in the crook of your neck, chest pressed to your back like he never left. His breath is slow, steady, and way too comfortable.

You shift slightly, trying to sit up big mistake.

His grip tightens instantly, pulling you flush against him. You feel everything.

“Where do you think you’re going?” he mumbles, voice deep and gravelly from sleep.

You laugh softly. “Bathroom. Maybe coffee.”

“Mm-mm. No you’re not.”

He pulls the blanket tighter around both of you, nosing into your neck like a giant, possessive heater.

“You’re mine right now,” he says, voice lower. “Bed time isn’t over.”

You wiggle a little in protest. Another mistake.

His hand slips lower, gripping your hip firmly, fingers pressing into the skin he already memorized last night.

“Keep doing that and we won’t leave this bed all day,” he murmurs.

You bite your lip, the heat between your thighs stirring again. You turn slightly to face him and damn. His hair is a tousled mess, lips slightly swollen, eyes half-lidded but dark and focused on you.

“You look proud of yourself,” you tease.

“I am,” he smirks. “You looked good screaming my name.”

Your breath catches. He leans in, slow and deliberate, pressing a lazy, heated kiss to your shoulder.

“Let me make you breakfast,” you whisper.

“I’d rather make you mine again first,” he replies, already trailing kisses down your collarbone.

You try again.

“Okay—but coffee after?”

“You can have your coffee… after you come one more time.”

Your gasp is swallowed by his mouth as he flips you onto your back in one smooth move, lips finding yours again with that same unrelenting hunger.

━━━━⊱⋆⊰━━━━

Chapter 5:

You barely get a chance to react before Chanyeol’s lips are back on yours slower this time, but no less intense. He’s taking his time, as if savoring every second of your taste, every inch of your body.

He shifts his weight, hovering over you now, his muscular frame blocking out the morning light as he moves down your body, lips trailing like fire.

“You’re so perfect,” he murmurs against your skin, his voice rough from sleep and desire. “I want all of you, every damn part of you.”

Your body shivers under his touch, every nerve on fire. He leaves a trail of soft kisses along your neck, down to your collarbone, his hands sliding down your sides with a maddening slowness. Every touch has you melting, your body begging for more.

“Chanyeol,” you breathe, pulling him closer.

He responds with a low growl, his lips moving to your chest, where he takes his time, tasting and teasing, making you squirm under him. Every touch, every kiss, feels like he’s claiming you again, and again, and again.

He looks up at you, eyes dark with lust, a smirk curling at the corner of his lips.

“Tell me you want this,” he demands, voice low and commanding.

“I want you,” you gasp, pulling him back to your lips, desperate to feel him closer.

“Good,” he says, his voice thick with need. “Because I’m not stopping until you’ve had all of me.”

His hands slide down your body, cupping your hips, lifting you slightly as he slides back down, settling between your legs. You feel him against you, and the anticipation makes you tremble.

“Chanyeol,” you whisper, but it's all you can get out before he presses his lips to yours again, silencing any further words.

Without another word, he moves between your legs, entering you with a smooth, controlled thrust. He groans into your mouth, his eyes locking onto yours as he starts to move, his pace slow at first, testing the waters, making you feel every inch of him.

“You feel so good,” he mutters against your lips, his voice thick with desire. “So damn good.”

You can’t help but moan, your back arching as his rhythm picks up, every thrust driving you closer to the edge. His hands grip your hips, holding you in place as he deepens his movements, his pace relentless and controlled.

“That’s it,” he breathes. “Let go, baby. Let me take you to the edge.”

You don’t need any more encouragement. With one final, hard thrust, he takes you over the edge, your body shuddering beneath him as your walls tighten around him, dragging him with you into the blissful abyss.

For a moment, neither of you move, both of you lost in the overwhelming aftershocks of pleasure. Chanyeol’s forehead rests against yours, both of you panting, catching your breath.

“Damn,” he whispers, his voice rough and hoarse. “That was perfect.”

You smile, breathless, running your fingers through his messy hair, unable to get enough of the feel of him.

“You’re never leaving this bed, are you?” you tease, eyes twinkling with mischief.

He chuckles softly, kissing your forehead gently.

“Not a chance. I’ve got you exactly where I want you.”

━━━━⊱⋆⊰━━━━

Chapter 6:

The room is quiet now, save for the soft sound of your breathing. Chanyeol’s body is still pressed against yours, his face nuzzled into the crook of your neck as you both slowly calm down from the intense aftermath.

His fingers gently trace circles on your skin soft, lazy caresses, but with a possessive edge, like he can’t bear to let go of you.

“You’re staying here with me,” he mutters, his voice rough and deep, still wrapped in the remnants of desire.

“I wasn’t planning on leaving,” you tease, running your fingers through his messy hair.

“Good.” He kisses your neck gently. “Because I don’t want you anywhere else.”

You smile at the tenderness in his words, but there's a hunger in his eyes that won't be satisfied by just physical connection. He leans up slowly, pressing his lips to yours, soft and slow, tasting you as if he’s memorizing the feeling of your kiss, making sure you know just how much he wants you, how much he needs you.

“I’m serious, you know,” he says quietly, his forehead resting against yours. “You’ve got all of me now. Every damn part of me.”

His words hang in the air, and for a moment, there’s a silence between you two. But it's comfortable no pressure, just the unspoken truth of how much he’s falling for you. He doesn’t need to say it, but you know.

“I know,” you whisper back, your hand drifting to his chest. “And you have all of me too.”

Chanyeol shifts, propping himself up on his elbow, eyes never leaving yours. His hand moves gently down your body, tracing your curves with a reverence that makes your heart flutter.

“You’re so beautiful,” he murmurs, his voice thick with emotion. “I’m not sure I’ll ever be able to let you go.”

You smile softly, leaning up to kiss him again, slow and tender this time no rush, just an overwhelming sense of connection. He pulls you closer, wrapping his arms around you like he can’t bear to let you slip away.

“You won’t have to,” you reply against his lips, your heart racing from the intensity in his touch. “I’m not going anywhere.”

For the first time since all of this began, Chanyeol’s intense, fiery persona softens. He lets out a deep breath, his lips pressing to your forehead in a soft, lingering kiss.

“I need you,” he admits, his voice low but full of honesty. “More than I thought I would. More than I even knew.”

You look up at him, the depth of his words settling between you two. The raw vulnerability in his eyes is something you didn’t expect, and it makes your chest tighten with affection.

“I need you too,” you whisper, tracing his jawline. “In every way.”

He smiles at you genuinely, deeply and the weight of the night lifts, replaced by a sense of calm that makes the air between you both feel charged with new meaning.

Chanyeol pulls you back into his chest, his body warm and protective, holding you close as if he never wants to let go.

“We’ll take this slow,” he says softly, his fingers combing through your hair. “I’m not rushing anything with you.”

“I like that idea,” you murmur, already drifting into the warmth of his embrace. “Let’s just see where this goes.”

For now, in this moment, it’s just you and him no games, no masks. Just a man who’s finally letting his guard down, and a woman who’s all in.

And neither of you want to let go.

━━━━⊱⋆⊰━━━━

Chapter 7:

You wake up again this time to the smell of coffee and the soft sound of music playing from the living room. The bed is warm, but empty. A faint grin curls on your lips as you tug the blanket tighter around your bare body.

Moments later, the bedroom door creaks open. And there he is.

Chanyeol. Shirtless. A mug in each hand, loose sweatpants hanging just low enough to distract you completely. His messy hair sticks up in every direction, and that sleepy, cocky smirk spreads across his face the second he sees you awake.

“Miss me already?” he teases, voice rough and low.

“You disappeared,” you pout, propping yourself up on one elbow.

“To make you coffee,” he grins, walking over. “Which I’m now dangerously close to spilling because you look way too good in my sheets.”

He sets the mugs down, then leans over you, bracing himself on one arm while his other hand slides behind your neck, pulling you into a kiss that starts soft but quickly deepens. The blanket slips a little. His eyes drop. So does his jaw.

“You're trying to kill me,” he murmurs against your lips.

“Maybe,” you whisper. “Maybe I want you to lose control again.”

His jaw clenches. The tease is working. You can see it.

But then, instead of jumping you again, he does something more dangerous.

He stares at you. Like really stares his gaze trailing over every inch of your face like he’s committing it to memory.

“I’ve never wanted someone the way I want you,” he says quietly, fingers brushing your cheek. “It’s not just the sex. It’s you.”

Your breath catches. He means it. Every word. And you feel it how badly he wants to know everything about you. How obsessed he already is with every little thing you do.

You break the silence with a sly smile.

“So what now, rockstar? You going to write me a love song?”

He grins back, but there’s a flicker of something darker in his gaze possession.

“I already started one,” he admits. “And it’s only going to get dirtier the more I think about last night.”

You choke on your coffee laugh. He snatches the mug from your hand and sets it aside, crawling back on top of you in one fluid motion.

“I was gonna behave,” he says, lips hovering over yours. “But then you smirked at me like that.”

“And now?”

“Now I’m gonna remind you what it feels like to be completely ruined by me.”

And just like that, the morning gets hot again his mouth finding yours, hands sliding under the blanket, your laughter turning into moans all over again.

Because Chanyeol isn’t just obsessed.

He’s yours. And he’s not letting go.

━━━━⊱⋆⊰━━━━

Chapter 8:

Later that day, you’re out with him nothing crazy, just a low-key visit to his studio. A few producers, some casual greetings, everyone minding their business. But you know what happened between you two last night. And this morning. And the second time this morning.

And so does he.

He hasn’t stopped smirking since you walked in.

You sit beside him on the studio couch, trying to focus while he plays back tracks. But his hand keeps brushing your thigh. Innocent at first. But it lingers. Fingers tapping. Then trailing up. Slow. Subtle. Maddening.

“Stop it,” you murmur, keeping your smile tight for the others in the room.

“Stop what?” he whispers back, eyes on the screen like he’s not currently driving you insane under the table.

“You know what.”

“I’m just touching my girl. Didn’t know that was a crime.”

His fingers trace the hem of your skirt now. Just a whisper away from making you gasp.

You glare at him. He bites his lip, clearly loving every second of this game.

Minutes later, someone steps out of the room to grab coffee. The door clicks shut.

Without warning, Chanyeol grabs your wrist and pulls you out of your seat, backing you into the far corner of the room behind a soundproof wall, out of view. His body is on yours instantly, hands caging you against the wall, lips brushing your ear.

“You kept looking at me like you wanted more,” he murmurs. “So don’t act surprised now.”

Your breath catches. His knee slides between your legs, pressing you gently but firmly, just enough to make you feel everything.

“You’re the one who keeps teasing,” you whisper, voice shaky.

“Because I love watching you fall apart when you can’t have me,” he growls, lips grazing your jaw. “But baby… the second we get out of here? I’m not holding back.”

His fingers trail up your thigh, ghosting along your skin. You grip his arms tightly, trying to stay upright.

“We’re not alone,” you hiss.

“Exactly,” he smirks. “That’s what makes it fun.”

Then he pulls back with maddening calm, presses a kiss to your cheek like nothing happened, and returns to his seat leaving you breathless, flushed, and ruined from absolutely nothing.

And that look he gives you from across the room?

Pure, dark promise.

Just wait until we’re alone again.

━━━━⊱⋆⊰━━━━

Chapter 9:

He thought he had the upper hand.

That smug look on his face? That cocky, deliberate teasing in the studio?

It lit a fire in you.

So when you two finally step into the elevator alone after hours of smirks, touches, and whispered threats you don’t wait. You don’t give him the chance to come at you first.

You press the emergency stop button.

The elevator jerks to a halt.

“What the—?” Chanyeol starts, turning toward you.

But before he can finish, you're on him hands fisting into his shirt, pushing him up against the wall, lips crashing into his with a heat that makes him groan against your mouth.

He barely catches his breath before your hands are roaming sliding under his shirt, nails grazing over abs he’s definitely been flaunting too much lately.

“You think you can tease me all day,” you whisper hotly against his lips, “and I won’t do something about it?”

He swallows hard. The surprise on his face shifts into hunger but not before you see the exact moment he realizes he’s no longer in control.

“You’ve been playing with fire, Yeol,” you murmur, dragging your lips across his jaw, biting gently at the corner of it. “Now burn.”

You drop to your knees.

He sucks in a breath so sharp, it echoes in the tiny space.

“Wait—baby—”

“No,” you smirk up at him. “You don’t get to speak. Not until I say so.”

His hands grip the railing behind him like he needs the support. His head drops back against the elevator wall. You take your time touching, kissing, teasing just like he did to you.

Every noise he makes becomes a win.

Every twitch of his fingers, every ragged breath.

“How’s it feel now?” you whisper, lips brushing the sensitive skin just above his waistband.

“Like hell,” he groans. “In the best damn way.”

You rise slowly, sliding your body against his, pressing him flush to the cold metal. He’s burning now completely wrecked and shaking from nothing more than your touch.

“Still want control?” you tease at his ear.

“Not anymore,” he breathes. “Not when you look at me like that.”

You press one last kiss to his jaw, then finally reach out and restart the elevator.

As the doors open, you glance over your shoulder and smirk.

“Let’s go home,” you say sweetly. “So I can finish what I started.”

He follows quiet, dazed, completely under your spell.

And oh, he’s not getting out of this one.

━━━━⊱⋆⊰━━━━

Chapter 10:

The apartment door clicks shut.

You turn to speak to maybe tease him again but you don’t get the chance.

Because Chanyeol slams you against the wall with one hand around your waist, the other braced beside your head, his eyes wild, pupils blown wide with lust and something darker. His chest is heaving, and that pretty mouth of his is no longer smirking.

It’s snarling.

“You think I’m gonna let you get away with that?” he growls, voice low and shaking with restraint.

“What if I do?” you whisper, defiant.

He doesn’t answer.

He devours your mouth, all teeth and tongue and punishment. It’s messy, consuming you feel his frustration, his hunger, his need to take back control. And you let him.

Because you want to see what happens when he snaps.

“On the couch,” he commands, pulling back just enough to speak. “Now.”

You barely make it two steps before he grabs your wrist, spins you, and pushes you onto the cushions, climbing over you with that gorgeous, towering frame. His hands are everywhere now gripping your thighs, sliding under your clothes, yanking them off piece by piece like they offended him.

“You looked so damn smug,” he mutters against your skin, kissing, biting, marking his way down. “All day. Driving me crazy. You knew exactly what you were doing.”

You arch under him, gasping, as his mouth trails between your legs no hesitation, no teasing this time. He devours you like a man starved, holding you down when you try to squirm away from the overwhelming sensation.

“Stay still,” he growls. “You started this. Now take it.”

Your moans echo through the apartment as he works you open with his mouth, fingers, tongue until your mind’s gone and your body’s begging. You clutch the couch cushions, barely able to breathe.

And when he finally moves back up your body, his lips slick, his voice wrecked?

“Now I’m going to fucking ruin you.”

And he does.

With every hard, deep thrust, with the way he whispers filth in your ear, with how he kisses you through it, whispering your name like a promise and a curse all in one. His pace is brutal, precise, and unrelenting pounding into you until your back arches off the couch and all you can do is cry out his name.

He holds you through every wave, chasing his own release only after he’s wrecked you completely. When he finally comes, it’s with a hoarse, desperate moan of your name, his hands gripping your hips like you’re the only thing grounding him to this planet.

Then he collapses against you, breathing hard, arms trembling.

“That,” he pants, “was payback.”

You smile lazily, brushing his hair off his forehead.

“That was insane.”

“You made me insane,” he smirks, nuzzling into your neck. “Do it again, and I swear I’ll tie you to this couch for a week.”

You laugh soft, spent, utterly undone.

And you know this is just the beginning.

You shuffle into the bathroom, skin flushed, muscles deliciously aching, lips still swollen from his kisses. The water’s running hot already, steam curling through the air. You sigh, stepping under the spray, letting it soothe every inch of you.

Eyes closed.

Relaxed.

You don’t hear the door open.

You do feel the cold air when the curtain shifts followed by the heat of a very naked, very revenge-driven Chanyeol stepping in behind you.

“You really thought I was done with you?” his voice is dark silk, low and echoing in the mist.

“I hoped you were tired,” you whisper, without turning around.

“I’m fucking wired,” he growls.

Then his hands are on your hips.

And his mouth God, his mouth is pressing kisses to your shoulder, slow and deliberate, lips burning hotter than the water. You brace yourself against the wall, heart hammering again, breath catching before he even really touches you.

“You look too good in my shower,” he mutters, kissing down your spine. “And after what you pulled earlier… I owe you.”

“I thought we settled that on the couch,” you say, shivering as his fingers slide between your legs from behind.

“That was round two,” he hisses at your ear. “This is me finishing the job.”

You barely have time to moan before he grabs your thigh, lifting it up against the wall, body pressing flush to your back. The water pounds around you both, but all you feel is him hot, heavy, hard, and completely overwhelming.

He moves slow this time. Dangerous slow.

Like he’s savoring every second.

“You wanted to ruin me in that elevator?” he groans, rocking into you with maddening precision. “Fine. Now I’m ruining you in every goddamn room of this apartment.”

You bite your lip to keep from crying out, but it’s useless. The way his hips roll, the way his teeth scrape your neck, the way his hand slips under your chest to hold you close as he drives into you there’s no holding anything back.

“You’re mine,” he whispers again and again. “Mine.”

You lose yourself against the tile, hips bucking into his, body shaking with pleasure that keeps building and breaking in waves. His grip tightens every time you tremble, every time you clench around him like you’re begging for more.

And when he finally breaks moaning your name into your soaked skin, biting your shoulder like he can’t take it you collapse together under the water, tangled and breathless.

The steam fogs up everything.

But nothing blurs the feeling of being completely his.

“Remind me to tease you more often,” you pant, resting your head against the tile.

“Do that,” he growls, brushing soaked hair from your face, “and you’ll never walk straight again.”

You laugh. He kisses you.

And somewhere in the middle of it all, you both know

This isn’t just sex anymore.

It’s war. And love.

And neither of you are surrendering anytime soon.

━━━━⊱⋆⊰━━━━

Chapter 11:

You’re out the next day hair in a cap, sunglasses on, hoodie zipped all the way up. Casual. Careful. Low-key. Because the world doesn’t know about you and Chanyeol yet. Not officially.

Not publicly.

But that doesn’t stop the rumors.

You’d barely stepped out of the café when the first camera snapped. Then another. Someone caught your hand with a ring on it . Someone else noticed you stepping into Chanyeol’s car. You don’t think much of it… until your phone starts blowing up.

┃ “Is this you with EXO’s Chanyeol?”

┃ “Are you two dating?”

┃ “What does SM say about this?”

You freeze.

Your heart starts racing.

Then comes the final hit: a post from a fan account a photo of you and Chanyeol in the elevator last week. Close. Intimate. Too much to deny.

You barely have time to react when your phone rings. His name lights up the screen.

“Come to the studio,” he says, voice clipped. “Now.”

When you get there, he’s pacing.

Dark hoodie. Cap pulled low. Jaw clenched. He looks pissed. But not at you.

“Who took that photo?” he growls. “That elevator was private. That should’ve been just ours.”

“I don’t know,” you whisper. “But it’s spreading.”

He walks over, grabs your face in both hands, and presses his forehead to yours.

“I don’t care what they say about me,” he murmurs. “But if they come for you if they try to hurt you I will burn it all down. Do you understand me?”

You nod, heart thudding.

But then you say the one thing you hadn’t meant to:

“What if this ruins you?”

He pulls back, eyes blazing.

“You think I give a damn about the industry if it means hiding you?” he snaps. “Let them talk. Let them hate. I’m not hiding you like some shameful secret. You’re mine.”

You blink, stunned by the fire in his voice.

“And if they want war,” he mutters, pulling you into his chest, “then war’s what they’ll get.”

Later that night, the internet explodes again.

But not with rumors.

With confirmation.

┃ [OFFICIAL POST – CHANYEOL IG]

┃ 📸: a blurry photo of your intertwined hands.

┃ Caption: “Not a secret. Just mine.”

Fans scream. Headlines spiral.

But you?

You’re in his arms as he posts it his lips pressed to your hair, his body wrapped protectively around yours like he’d fight the whole world to keep you safe.

“They know now,” you whisper.

“Good,” he breathes. “Let them watch.”

━━━━⊱⋆⊰━━━━

Chapter 12:

It’s late.

The apartment is dim, lit only by the soft orange glow from the city outside. You’re curled up on the couch, one of his oversized hoodies hanging off your shoulder, your phone forgotten somewhere between the cushions.

Chanyeol’s quiet. Too quiet.

He’s standing by the window, hands in the pockets of his sweats, shirtless hair a mess, tattoos peeking through the shadows. You watch him for a minute, something in your chest tightening.

“Yeol?” you ask softly. “You okay?”

He doesn’t turn around.

“I don’t know,” he says after a long pause. “I think… I��m scared.”

Your stomach drops.

You get up slowly, crossing the room until you’re standing just behind him.

“Talk to me.”

He exhales hard like he’s been holding something in for days. Maybe longer.

“I didn’t mean for this to happen,” he murmurs. “You walked into my life, and I was just… gone. I couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t think. I wanted you in ways I didn’t think were possible, and then suddenly it wasn’t just about wanting you. It was needing you.”

You reach out and touch his back gently.

“Yeol…”

“I used to be good at pretending,” he says, voice low and shaky. “Playing cool. Hiding my feelings. Being the idol everyone expected.”

He finally turns to face you and you nearly gasp.

His eyes are red. Not from anger. From trying not to cry.

“But then you came along,” he whispers, stepping closer. “And suddenly I want to give you everything. Not just the wild parts. Not just the passion. I want you to know the real me. The scared one. The insecure one. The one who’s terrified of losing this losing you.”

Your heart cracks wide open.

“You’re not gonna lose me,” you whisper.

He cups your face in his hands, brows furrowed like he’s begging you to believe him.

“You don’t understand,” he breathes. “This love it’s changing everything. It’s not a game anymore. I don’t care about the music, the fans, the fame not if you’re not in it with me. I’m yours. Every messy, broken, obsessed part of me is yours.”

Tears prick your eyes.

You pull him into a hug tight, grounding, real. And when he clings to you like you’re the only solid thing in his world, you know:

This isn’t lust anymore.

This is love.

Deep, unshakable, dangerous love.

“I love you,” you whisper against his skin.

“I’ve never loved anyone like this,” he breathes back. “And it scares the hell out of me.”

You both stand there for a long time, wrapped in each other, letting the silence speak for everything you don’t have the words for.

And in that moment, the world outside doesn’t matter.

━━━━⊱⋆⊰━━━━

Chapter 13:

The drive takes hours.

Up winding mountain roads, past tiny towns and sleepy forests. Chanyeol’s hand never leaves yours on the console. His thumb rubs circles into your skin like he needs to feel you to know you’re real after everything that’s happened.

“Where are we going?” you ask, eyes fluttering closed from the lull of the drive.

“Somewhere no one can find us,” he says simply.

The cabin is quiet.

Stone fireplace. Big windows. A king-sized bed buried in soft blankets. Nothing but the sound of trees and wind and Chanyeol’s soft breathing behind you as he sets your bags down.

You turn to thank him

But he’s already watching you.

And this time, his gaze isn’t hungry or teasing.

It’s in love.

“You look peaceful here,” he says softly.

“It’s the first time I’ve breathed in days.”

“Same.”

He reaches for you, pulling you into his arms as if it’s instinct. Like holding you is the only thing that makes sense anymore.

The rest of the night moves slow.

He builds a fire. You cook ramen. You sit curled up in his hoodie while he lies with his head in your lap, letting you run your fingers through his hair. No music. No phones.

Just warmth. Touch. Presence.

“I don’t want to go back,” you whisper.

“Then we won’t,” he murmurs against your thigh. “Not until we’re ready.”

Later, when you’re both in bed skin on skin under soft sheets he doesn’t initiate anything wild or rough.

He holds you.

Traces your spine. Kisses your temple. Tangles your fingers with his like he’s memorizing the shape of your soul.

“I love you,” he whispers again. “But this time, I want to show you what that really means.”

And the way he moves that night?

It’s reverent. Slow. Like worship.

Not just of your body, but of everything you are to him.

He kisses every part of you, murmuring promises into your skin. Holds you after, even when you’re half asleep, whispering things he’d never say out loud anywhere else.

“You saved me.”

“You’re my home.”

“I’d give up everything… if it meant waking up like this for the rest of my life.”

And when you finally drift off against his chest, he doesn’t sleep.

He just watches you.

Protective. Awed. Completely gone.

You wake up warm.

Not just from the blankets but from the long, hard body wrapped completely around you, his chest pressed against your back, his hand casually splayed over your bare thigh. You shift slightly, and something very not casual presses against you.

“Don’t move unless you’re trying to start something,” he murmurs, voice deep and sleepy.

You laugh softly, stretching.

“I think we’re snowed in,” you say, glancing at the window. The outside is a blanket of white, flakes still drifting past the glass.

“Good,” he yawns. “Means you’re stuck with me.”

You roll over to face him, cheeks still flushed from last night. He’s got that messy morning look: hair everywhere, deep voice, that lazy smile that already spells danger.

“What do you want to do all day?” you ask, innocent.

“You. Definitely you.”

Before you can protest, he tackles you back into the pillows, pinning you beneath him with that wide grin and too much bare skin for your brain to function.

“You’re insatiable,” you gasp, laughing.

“I’ve got 24 hours, no distractions, and the hottest person I’ve ever seen wearing my hoodie with nothing underneath. What did you expect?”

He kisses you slow at first teasing, nipping at your bottom lip. But when you tug on his hair and roll your hips just a little too deliberately?

The playfulness ignites.

He growls, flipping you under him, pinning both your wrists with one hand while the other slips under your hoodie. He licks into your mouth with a groan that vibrates through your chest.

“You gonna behave today?” he asks between kisses.

“Never.”

“Good. I like a challenge.”

You spend the next hour wrapped up in sheets, laughter, and breathless moans bare skin against cold air, his fingers tracing patterns over your body like he has all the time in the world.

And he does.

Because there’s nowhere else to be. No interviews. No staff. No fans. No rules.

Just you and him.

Getting drunk on each other.

At one point, he carries you to the window just to make love against the glass, the snowy forest beyond misting up from your heat. Then it’s back to the bed this time slow and sensual, his forehead pressed to yours, whispering praises with every movement.

“You’re everything.”

“You feel so good.”

“I could live here forever if it means I get to wake up to you.”

You fall asleep again tangled in his arms, exhausted and completely satisfied.

And when you wake up a second time to Chanyeol cooking shirtless in the kitchen, humming one of his songs and stealing glances at you from the stove?

You know the snow isn’t the only thing that’s fallen hard.

━━━━⊱⋆⊰━━━━

Chapter 14:

You’re wrapped in a blanket, sipping hot cocoa by the fire when you hear the sliding glass door open.

Chanyeol steps outside into the snow barefoot, steam billowing up around him from the bubbling hot tub just outside the cabin.

“You didn’t tell me there was a jacuzzi,” you call.

He glances over his shoulder with that devastating smirk.

“I didn’t tell you on purpose.”

Then he drops the towel.

Just like that.

Like it’s nothing.

Like he doesn’t just wreck you every time he’s wet and shirtless and grinning like he owns the goddamn world.

You scramble to the bedroom, throwing on the first bikini you packed and when you step out into the cold, he’s already settled into the hot water, arms stretched out across the rim, head tilted back, eyes closed like sin in human form.

“You coming in,” he murmurs without looking, “or just gonna stand there looking like a fantasy?”

You slip into the water and immediately gasp.

Not because of the temperature.

Because of him.

The way he watches you. The steam rising between you. The way he moves closer, lazily, like a predator that’s in no rush because he knows he’s already got you.

“I’ve never seen you look better,” he says, eyes darkening. “And I’ve seen you naked.”

You grin, sliding into his lap like it’s your throne.

“So what are you gonna do about it?”

His hands grip your waist under the water, mouth brushing your ear.

“You’re not walking straight tomorrow. That’s what.”

And then he’s kissing you again wet, slow, with tongues and teeth and a grip so tight on your hips you swear the whole tub shifts. His hands glide under your bikini, finding every spot that makes you melt, while his voice rasps at your neck.

“No cameras. No lights. No noise.”

“Just us,” you pant.

“Just this.”

Steam curls around you, cold air forgotten.

He lifts you slightly, body sliding between your thighs with such practiced need that the water sloshes and your head tilts back in a moan you couldn’t silence if you tried.

“You’re gonna wake the forest,” you whisper.

“Let it listen.”

You lose track of time.

Lose track of how many times he makes you fall apart, only to bring you back with kisses softer than snowfall.

And afterward, when he carries you inside wrapped in a towel, dries your hair with warm fingers, and tucks you into bed with a sleepy laugh?

You don’t just feel loved.

You feel claimed.

━━━━⊱⋆⊰━━━━

Chapter 15: Final Chapter

It’s been hours.

You and Chanyeol are finally settled, the fire crackling, soft music in the background. You’re curled up with him on the couch, one of his shirts on and your legs tangled together. The outside world feels like a distant memory, as if the snowstorm outside and the mountains surrounding you could swallow up all your troubles.

But then— knock. Knock. Knock.

It’s sharp. Unsettling.

You both freeze.

Chanyeol’s head whips toward the door, confusion flickering across his features.

“Who the hell could that be?” you murmur, sitting up.

“I don’t know,” Chanyeol says, running a hand through his hair. He stands up slowly, muscles tense as if he can already feel something’s wrong.

He steps toward the door, opening it a crack.

“Can I help you?” His voice is cool, controlled but you hear the tension, the edge beneath the calm.

The person standing there is not who you expected.

It’s not a fan. It’s not the staff.

It’s Jade.

Your best friend.

And she looks completely out of breath wide-eyed, disheveled, like she’s been running for miles in the snow.

“Jade?” you ask, shocked. “What are you how did you—”

“I knew you two were here,” she blurts, voice panicked. “I saw your social media posts. The ring, the comments... I didn’t think it was *real* until now.”

She glances over Chanyeol, eyes darting between him and you. He’s just standing there, arms crossed, jaw tight.

“Wait. You knew?” Chanyeol asks, a hint of annoyance in his tone. “You knew we were here and didn’t say anything?”

Jade lets out a shaky breath, her hands moving as if she’s trying to figure out how to explain herself.

“I didn’t know you were going to be this exposed,” she says, her eyes turning to you. “But the rumors, Y/N… they’re everywhere. People are asking questions. They’re starting to connect the dots about you, about Chanyeol. And I... I had to make sure you were okay.”

You can feel the tension crackling in the air. Chanyeol steps forward, voice low.

“I’ve got this under control,” he says, his eyes narrowing at the intruder.

But Jade looks at him with a flicker of something. Unease. Concern.

“I know you do. But you both need to think about this. Think about what happens when the world really finds out. Because this won’t stay quiet for long.”

The weight of her words hits hard, but it’s Chanyeol’s gaze that pulls you in sharp, protective, a mix of frustration and resolve.

“No one’s taking her from me,” he says firmly, his voice colder now. “I’ve made my choice. She’s mine.”

You step forward, hand reaching for Jade’s arm, your heart racing at the sudden shift in the atmosphere. The world you thought was calm just shifted.

“You should’ve let us have our time,” you say, quietly but firmly. “You’re not helping with this.”

Jade’s face softens, and for a moment, she seems to deflate under the weight of what’s unfolding. But the sharp edge in her voice remains.

“I’m trying to help you before it blows up. You don’t know what you’re walking into.”

And suddenly, everything shifts.

The room seems smaller.

The tension between you and Chanyeol is thick and unspoken. He’s protective, but he’s also angry not at you, but at the world that’s about to invade this small, fragile space you created. The world that’s about to crush what you’ve built.

“You don’t get it,” he says, his voice clipped. “We don’t have to hide anymore. I’m done.”

You look at him, your heart pounding.

“Then we go public?” you ask softly, uncertainty creeping in.

He looks back at you determined, possessive.

“The world can burn. As long as we’re standing together.”

[loeyshine]

Little Cupid

Epoch Book

•*⁀➷pairing: chanyeol x fem reader

Theme: chaotic energy, babysitting au, love between a child, baby love, "No, I like you very much. Just as you are."

Description: in a home of a topsy-turvy filled with noises, crayons, juiceboxes, and paper airplanes was always filled with love to share.

Playlist: put your records on — corrine bailey rae

Chapter 1:

I had just settled on my couch with a cozy blanket and a cup of hot chocolate when my phone rang. I smiled when I saw Chanyeol’s name flashing on the screen.

"Hey, babe," I answered, expecting our usual sweet banter.

"Y/N, help me!" Chanyeol's deep voice was laced with desperation. "I am not built for this. I think I'm losing my mind."

I sat up, alarmed. "Wait, what’s happening? Are you okay?"

"No, I’m not okay. I’m babysitting my nephew, and he’s a menace! He won’t listen to me, he keeps running around, and he just threw his juice box at my head. My head, Y/N!"

I burst out laughing at the mental image. "Oh no, poor you."

"This is not funny," Chanyeol groaned. "Please come over. I need backup."

I sighed dramatically, pretending to consider it. "Hmm… I don’t know. What’s in it for me?"

"My eternal love and gratitude?" he offered quickly.

I laughed again. "Fine, fine. I’ll be there in ten minutes."

When I arrived at Chanyeol’s apartment, the chaos was very real. Toys were scattered everywhere, and his six-year-old nephew, Minjun, was running in circles, pretending to be an airplane. Meanwhile, Chanyeol stood in the middle of the mess, looking completely exhausted.

"Y/N!" he gasped, rushing to me like I was his savior. "You’re here. Thank God."

Minjun suddenly stopped running and turned to look at me. His eyes widened, and his cheeks turned pink. He quickly smoothed down his tiny dinosaur-print sweater and shuffled closer.

"Hi, Y/N noona," he said shyly.

I smiled. "Hi, Minjun! You’re having fun with your uncle, huh?"

Minjun pouted and pointed at Chanyeol. "Uncle Yeol is boring. He won’t let me climb the couch."

Chanyeol groaned. "Because it’s dangerous, Minjun!"

Minjun ignored him and grabbed my hand. "But if you say I can climb it, I’ll listen."

Chanyeol’s jaw dropped. "Wait… what?"

I tried to hide my smile. "Minjun, we shouldn't climb the couch, okay? But we can build a cool pillow fort instead!"

Minjun gasped. "A fort?"

I nodded. "The best one ever."

"Okay! Let's do it!" he cheered.

As I helped Minjun stack pillows and blankets, Chanyeol stared at us in disbelief. He crossed his arms and pouted like a child.

"I told you no climbing, and you ignored me," he muttered. "But Y/N says no, and suddenly you're an angel?"

Minjun shrugged. "Y/N noona is prettier than you."

I giggled, and Chanyeol gasped, holding a hand over his heart. "Betrayal!"

Minjun grinned mischievously. "Noona, do you have a boyfriend?"

I glanced at Chanyeol, who was still fake-pouting, and nodded. "Yes, I do."

Minjun tilted his head. "Who is it?"

I pointed at Chanyeol. "Your uncle."

Minjun gasped dramatically, covering his mouth. Then he turned to Chanyeol, looking heartbroken. "Uncle Yeol… you stole my noona?"

I couldn’t stop laughing, but Chanyeol crouched down and put a hand on Minjun’s tiny shoulder. "Listen, buddy," he said solemnly. "I didn’t steal her. She chose me."

Minjun crossed his arms. "Hmph. If I was taller, I think she would’ve picked me."

Chanyeol threw his hands in the air. "Oh, come on!"

I ruffled Minjun’s hair. "You're adorable, Minjun. But Chanyeol is my favorite."

Minjun sighed dramatically. "Fine. But only because you like him."

Chanyeol smirked, pulling me into his arms. "That’s right. She likes me."

Minjun rolled his eyes. "Ew. Grown-ups are so weird."

Chanyeol chuckled, pressing a quick kiss to my temple. "You say that now, but one day, you’ll have a noona crush again."

Minjun gasped. "Never!"

I giggled and patted his head. "Alright, let's finish this fort before bedtime."

As Minjun eagerly started stacking pillows again, Chanyeol leaned in and whispered, "Remind me to always call you when I babysit. You have magical powers."

I grinned. "Not magic just charm."

Chanyeol shook his head with a smitten smile. "And that’s why I love you."

━━━━⊱⋆⊰━━━━

Chapter 2: Operation Bedtime (a.k.a. Mission Impossible)

It had been twenty minutes since Minjun decided I was the only adult worth listening to, and somehow, the pillow fort now looked like a five-star glamping resort. Fairy lights. Blankets draped like royal canopies. Plush toys standing guard like soldiers. The chaos from earlier had transformed into cozy, adorable chaos.

“Okay, Minjun,” I said, fluffing a pillow, “once we crawl inside, it’s officially bedtime. Deal?”

Minjun hesitated, looking at me with big eyes. “Can we have a bedtime story?”

Chanyeol, who had just slumped onto the couch with the expression of a man who had run a marathon, lifted his head. “I offered a bedtime story earlier, and you told me my voice was boring.”

Minjun shrugged. “Noona’s voice is better.”

I tried not to laugh, but Chanyeol gave me a flat look. “You’re literally stealing my thunder in my own house.”

“You love it,” I teased, crawling into the fort beside Minjun.

Chanyeol sighed and crawled in behind me, way too tall for the tiny space. His legs stuck out awkwardly, and he bumped his head on the blanket ceiling twice.

“Okay, okay,” he muttered, lying down beside us. “I’ll allow this. But I’m the sound effects guy.”

“Fine,” I grinned. “But only if you commit.”

I picked a book from the small pile beside us and began to read, changing my voice for each character. Chanyeol added over-the-top sound effect whoosh for flying dragons, roarrrr for the villain, and weird squeaky honks that weren’t in the story but made Minjun burst into giggles every time.

“Uncle Yeol, that’s not what a knight sounds like!” Minjun laughed, falling onto my lap.

“I’m giving creative input!” Chanyeol defended, making the “dragon” hiccup this time.

After the story, Minjun rubbed his eyes and yawned. “Can Noona stay ‘til I fall asleep?”

I smiled softly. “Of course, Minjun.”

He curled up between us, one hand in mine, the other holding his favorite plushie. His eyelids drooped slowly, and within minutes, his breathing had softened into tiny sleepy puffs.

Chanyeol looked at him, then looked at me, his expression melting into something warm and quiet. “You’re incredible with him. Seriously.”

I whispered, “He’s just a sweetheart underneath the chaos.”

Chanyeol smiled and leaned closer, kissing my cheek gently. “You’re my secret weapon.”

I turned to face him. “You owe me hot chocolate and a back massage after this.”

He grinned. “Deal. But only if you admit that I was at least a little helpful.”

I raised an eyebrow. “The dragon hiccuping? Peak performance art.”

He chuckled, and we both fell into a soft silence, watching over the sleeping boy between us.

Chanyeol reached over Minjun and took my hand. “Someday,” he whispered, “I think we’d be pretty great at this.”

I looked at him, heart skipping, and smiled. “Someday.”

His thumb brushed mine. “But for now… let’s just survive babysitting.”

“Agreed,” I laughed quietly. “One victory at a time.”

And as we lay there, in a fort built from pillows and patience, with a tiny matchmaker asleep between us, I couldn’t help but think that maybe Minjun wasn’t the chaos. Maybe he was the little spark who reminded us that love even the messy, juice-box-throwing kind was kind of magic after all.

━━━━⊱⋆⊰━━━━

Chapter 3: Operation Playdate (aka: Minjun’s Master Plan)

A week later, Chanyeol and I were curled up on his couch again, this time blissfully alone, watching a movie and sharing popcorn. The apartment was clean, peaceful, and most importantly Minjun-free.

“I’m just saying,” Chanyeol murmured, popping popcorn into his mouth, “I haven’t had a juice box thrown at me all week. It’s been nice.”

I giggled. “You miss him, don’t you?”

Chanyeol gave me a look. “…Maybe a little.”

As if summoned by name, his phone buzzed on the coffee table. He reached for it lazily and raised an eyebrow.

“It’s from my sister,” he said, unlocking his screen. “She says Minjun’s been—wait… what?”

I leaned over to peek. Chanyeol turned the phone so I could read the message:

[MINJUN]

┃ Mommy, can I go to Uncle Yeol’s house again?

┃ I want to see Y/N noona!! I can bring snacks and behave!!

┃ I PROMISE no juice throwing 😇

Underneath was a second message from his sister:

┃ He’s been sulking all week. He made a whole plan and even drew it. I’m sending you the photo now.

Sure enough, a second later, Chanyeol received a picture of Minjun’s handwritten master plan, complete with crayon drawings. In the middle was a stick figure of me with hearts around it, a stick-figure Minjun with a flower, and a very large Chanyeol-looking figure labeled “BLOCKER” with a red X on his face.

I gasped, laughing so hard I nearly dropped the popcorn. “He’s plotting against you!”

Chanyeol looked personally offended. “I’ve been demoted to ‘blocker’?! I fed him chicken nuggets, Y/N.”

We both stared at the plan again. There was even a scheduled timeline:

• 3:00 PM – Arrive at Uncle Yeol’s

• 3:02 PM – Hug Y/N noona

• 3:05 PM – Give her flower

• 3:07 PM – Sit beside her, NOT UNCLE YEOL

• 3:10 PM – Ask her to marry me (but only if Uncle Yeol is in the bathroom)

Chanyeol dropped the phone into his lap and covered his face with both hands. “I’m being usurped by a six-year-old.”

I was wheezing. “To be fair… it’s a solid plan.”

Chanyeol narrowed his eyes. “You’re enjoying this too much.”

“I mean, a flower? That’s romantic,” I teased. “You could learn a thing or two.”

He dramatically sank into the couch. “Betrayed again.”

Just then, another text came in from his sister:

┃ Minjun says if you say no to the playdate, it’s because you’re jealous. 😈

Chanyeol gave me the most offended look in human history. “HE’S GASSLIGHTING ME.”

I wiped tears from laughing so hard. “I think we have to say yes now.”

Chanyeol groaned, but the smile tugging at his lips said otherwise. “Fine. But next time, I’m bringing backup. Like a referee. Or a fire extinguisher.”

I leaned over, kissed his cheek, and whispered, “You love that little goof.”

He sighed, resting his head on my shoulder. “Yeah… I really do. Even if he’s trying to steal my girlfriend.”

I grinned, tugging him closer. “He’s not stealing me. But he can borrow me for an hour.”

Chanyeol closed his eyes with a smile. “Deal. But only if I get you back after.”

“You always do.”

And somewhere across town, Minjun was likely circling tomorrow’s date on his crayon-drawn calendar, plotting the next chapter of his mission.

Little did he know, love already won just not in the way he expected.

━━━━⊱⋆⊰━━━━

Chapter 4: The Sleepover Surprise

It was a Friday night when the “official” sleepover happened. Minjun arrived at Chanyeol’s apartment with a tiny Avengers backpack, a bag of marshmallows, and what looked like a mission folder labeled “Operation: Impress Noona (2.0)”complete with glittery stickers and badly drawn hearts.

Chanyeol and I exchanged a look. “Do I want to know what’s inside that folder?” he whispered.

“I’m scared to ask,” I whispered back.

Minjun, ever the confident tiny king, marched in and set his bag down like he owned the place. “Uncle Yeol, I packed my own snacks this time. No more juice boxes.”

Chanyeol saluted. “Noted, Captain.”

Then Minjun turned to me with his best “prince-in-a-storybook” smile. “Noona, I saved you a marshmallow. The biggest one.”

I gasped dramatically. “For me? That’s so sweet!”

Chanyeol fake-coughed. “I see how it is. No marshmallow for your favorite uncle?”

Minjun looked at him dead serious. “You already have Y/N noona. Let me at least give her the marshmallow.”

I choked on my laughter. Chanyeol looked personally offended again.

Later that night, after movies, popcorn, and building a new and improved blanket fort with “guard duty schedules” drawn by Minjun, it was time for bed. Minjun yawned and curled up between us again like it was the most natural thing in the world.

I gently smoothed back his hair. “Did you have fun today?”

He nodded sleepily. “Best night ever…”

“Glad to hear it,” Chanyeol whispered from the other side.

There was a soft silence… until Minjun murmured, half-asleep, “Night, mommy…”

My hand froze.

Chanyeol’s head snapped toward me in the dark.

“…What did he just say?” he whispered.

I bit back a stunned laugh, my heart suddenly full and a little melty. “I think he called me mommy.”

Minjun didn’t even blink. He just snuggled closer and sighed happily. “My pretty noona is my mommy now…”

Chanyeol’s voice was barely holding back a grin. “Okay. Wow. He promoted you.”

“Without an interview or anything,” I whispered.

We both stared at the peaceful, snoring Minjun between us completely unaware of the emotional explosion he just set off.

Chanyeol reached for my hand under the blanket and laced our fingers quietly. “Just so you know,” he whispered, “if you were his mom… you’d be amazing.”

I turned my head toward him. “You think so?”

He smiled in the dark. “I know so.”

My heart fluttered quietly in the quiet warmth of the moment. No glitter, no juice boxes just us, Minjun, and the sound of soft breathing in a blanket fort made with too much love.

Maybe we weren’t ready for all of that yet.

But… someday?

Someday sounded pretty perfect.

━━━━⊱⋆⊰━━━━

Chapter 5: Permission Granted , Final Chapter

It had been five years since the first sleepover, and Minjun was no longer a wild six-year-old with a crush and crayons. Now eleven, he was taller, calmer, and very into basketball and thankfully, no longer throwing juice boxes at Chanyeol’s head.

We were all sitting at a picnic table at Hangang Park on a breezy spring afternoon. Chanyeol and I were sharing a coffee, and Minjun was demolishing a hot dog like he hadn’t eaten in days.

Chanyeol leaned over and whispered, “Still can’t believe he used to call you mommy after one marshmallow.”

I grinned. “He had taste. You should’ve taken notes.”

Just then, Minjun wiped his mouth and looked at Chanyeol with surprising seriousness. “Uncle Yeol, can I talk to you alone for a second?”

Chanyeol blinked. “Uh… sure?”

The two of them stood up and walked a few feet away, whispering. I could see Minjun’s animated hand gestures and Chanyeol’s increasingly confused face. I squinted suspiciously, trying to lip-read. Something about “timing” and “don’t mess it up.”

When they returned, Chanyeol looked like he’d just been handed top-secret government intel.

I raised an eyebrow. “What was that about?”

Chanyeol cleared his throat dramatically and sat beside me. “Well, my lovely girlfriend, I have just been given official permission by a very important person to ask you something big.”

I blinked. “Wait—Minjun?”

Chanyeol nodded solemnly. “He says, and I quote, ‘You can propose to her now. I’ll allow it. Just make sure it’s cool.’”

Minjun puffed up proudly. “I used to have a crush on you, remember? But now that I’m older and mature, I think you two make a good couple. Plus, I’ve decided I’ll marry someone cooler. Like a K-drama actress or something.”

I laughed so hard I nearly spilled my coffee. “Wow, big plans!”

Minjun shrugged like a true heartbreaker. “It’s called standards, noona.”

Chanyeol leaned in, his voice softer now. “He actually gave me a little speech. Said you’ve been like family since the day you read him that bedtime story in the fort.”

My heart squeezed.

Chanyeol reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a small velvet box. “I was going to wait. But since our little Cupid just fast-tracked everything…”

He opened it, revealing a delicate ring with a sparkle that took my breath away.

Minjun watched, arms crossed like a proud CEO. “Told you she’d cry.”

Chanyeol took my hand gently. “Y/N… I’ve loved you since the moment you made a kid believe in bedtime magic and fell asleep with his dinosaur plush in your arms. Will you marry me?”

I covered my mouth, eyes already misty, and nodded with a teary smile. “Yes. Of course, yes.”

Chanyeol grinned wide and slid the ring onto my finger as Minjun gave a very dramatic clap, complete with whooping cheers.

Then he added, “Okay, but I still get to give a speech at the wedding.”

Chanyeol and I exchanged a look, then burst into laughter.

“Deal,” I said, hugging him tightly. “You’ll always be our little Cupid.”

And with the park bathed in golden sunlight and the scent of spring all around us, I knew we weren’t just starting a new chapter we were writing the happiest sequel possible.

[loeyshine]

Coastwave

one-shot

•*⁀➷pairing: chanyeol x fem reader

Theme: beach day, sunny weather, couple in beach, love under the heat, spicy au, “i loved her. I loved her like an ocean loves water”.

Description: summer love and scintillas with waves. How would a one hols can change everything.

Playlist: the one you love — glenn frey

The golden sun dipped low in the sky, casting a dreamy orange glow over the private beach. Waves crashed lazily against the shore, and the salty breeze tugged gently at the sheer white curtains of the beachside cabana.

You stepped out of the bungalow with a slight flutter in your chest. The two-piece bikini you wore hugged your curves like a second skin simple, elegant, but undeniably bold. You'd worn it for the first time today, not just for the sun… but for him.

Chanyeol was out on the deck, sprawled on a lounge chair shirtless, his toned chest glistening faintly with sunscreen, sunglasses on, a drink in hand. He hadn’t noticed you yet.

You cleared your throat, a teasing smirk tugging at your lips.

“Oppa… wanna go for a swim?”

His head turned slowly.

The sunglasses slid down the bridge of his nose.

His jaw? Gone. On the sand somewhere.

“…What did you just say?” His voice was low, almost hoarse.

You tilted your head, walking toward him with a sway of your hips that was completely innocent and also very much not. “Swim. Ocean. You know, water?”

He sat up abruptly, his sunglasses forgotten on the chair now. His eyes drank in every inch of you the way your skin glowed, the bikini clinging perfectly, the confident grin playing on your lips.

“Y/N…” he said, voice suddenly deeper, darker. “You’ve been hiding this from me?”

You stopped right in front of him, looking down with mock innocence. “I was waiting for the right time.”

His hand reached out, brushing over your hip, fingers lingering at the edge of your bikini bottom. “And this is it? Out here where someone could see?”

“It’s a private beach,” you reminded him with a wicked smile.

He leaned forward, his lips brushing against your belly just above the waistband. “That doesn’t stop me from losing my mind.”

You shivered.

“Come swim with me,” you whispered, tugging gently at his hand.

He groaned, standing up and towering over you now. “Swim. Sure. If we make it that far.”

You squealed as he suddenly scooped you into his arms, bridal style, and carried you toward the water. The waves kissed your ankles when he finally set you down, but instead of letting go, he wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you close, your wet bodies pressed together.

His lips found your ear.

“You’re never wearing anything else on vacation again.”

And when his mouth found yours hungry, claiming, utterly Chanyeol you melted into him, sun-warmed and heart-racing, knowing this was only the beginning of a very hot getaway.

━━━━⊱⋆⊰━━━━

Later that evening, the beach was quiet, the sky ink-black and littered with stars. A warm breeze carried the sound of waves crashing softly in the distance. Inside your cabana, the lights were dim, golden and low casting flickering shadows on the walls as candles danced around the room.

But you weren’t in bed.

You were in the outdoor jacuzzi, steam rising around your shoulders, glass of wine in your hand, hair damp, cheeks flushed from the heat and maybe a bit from anticipation. The water bubbled gently around you, your legs stretched lazily, still wearing that same two-piece bikini. You didn’t want to change out of it.

Because you were waiting for him.

The sliding glass door opened behind you.

Chanyeol stepped out, towel slung low on his hips, drops of water sliding down his chest. His eyes locked onto yours dark, smoldering, predatory.

You tilted your head. “Took your time.”

“I had to cool down before coming near you again,” he said with a teasing growl. “Didn’t work.”

He stepped into the jacuzzi, the water rippling as he lowered himself beside you, arm draping behind your shoulders.

The silence between you was thick with tension.

“You keep looking at me like that,” you murmured, “and I’m going to think you have something on your mind.”

His hand slid beneath the water, fingers tracing along your thigh under the bubbles. “I do. A lot of things.”

“Yeah?” You took a slow sip of wine, your voice low and daring. “Like what?”

He didn’t answer with words.

His hand traveled higher, grazing the edge of your bikini bottom under the water, sending a wave of heat rushing through your body. His lips brushed your shoulder soft, then firmer, his mouth moving slowly to your neck.

“I’ve never seen you like this,” he whispered into your skin. “And now that I have… I don’t think I’ll ever get enough.”

You turned toward him, cupping his face, lips crashing into his hot, needy, tasting of wine and want. He kissed you like he was starved for it. Like he'd waited forever to feel you like this, wild and beautiful and completely his.

Water splashed as you climbed onto his lap, straddling him, your bodies pressed skin to skin. His hands gripped your hips tightly, like he needed to anchor himself before he lost all control.

“Y/N…” he breathed, looking up at you like you were both a dream and a sin.

“Shh,” you whispered, kissing him again. “We’re on vacation. We can do whatever we want.”

And under the stars, with steam rising around you, skin glistening, lips locked and hearts racing, you and Chanyeol forgot the rest of the world caught in your own private heatwave.

━━━━⊱⋆⊰━━━━

Later, wrapped in nothing but towels and flushed skin, the two of you stumbled back inside the cabana. The sliding door clicked shut behind you, cutting off the ocean breeze but the air inside was already thick with warmth and tension.

Chanyeol dropped his towel first.

He wasn’t shy anymore. Not with you. His eyes drank you in like you were art beautiful, radiant, wild and soft all at once. When your towel fell to the floor, he let out a breath that sounded more like a prayer.

You reached for him slowly, your fingers tracing the curve of his jaw before guiding him toward the bed.

The sheets were cool against your backs, contrasting with the heat of your skin. He hovered over you, bracing himself on his forearms, his dark eyes fixed on yours.

“Say it,” you whispered, breath shaky.

He leaned in, lips brushing your collarbone. “You’re everything.”

Your heart clenched.

Then his mouth moved lower, and lower… kissing every inch of you like he meant it. Like he wanted to remember you exactly like this. Like he wanted to worship.

His hands were slow, gentle at first exploring, memorizing but his body told a different story. You could feel how much he needed you, how long he’d waited for this, how hard it was to take his time.

“You’re driving me crazy, Y/N,” he groaned into your neck as you arched against him.

“You already are,” you whispered, nails scraping lightly down his back.

What followed wasn’t rushed. It wasn’t just about the fire anymore. It was about the way his hands held you like something precious, how his voice trembled when he whispered your name against your skin, how your bodies moved together like you’d done this a thousand times and yet it still felt brand new.

Afterward, you lay tangled in each other, bodies bare beneath the sheets, hearts still racing.

Chanyeol traced lazy circles on your hip, his voice barely audible. “You don’t know what you do to me.”

You smiled, resting your cheek on his chest, listening to his heartbeat. “I have a pretty good idea now.”

He chuckled softly, pressing a kiss to the top of your head.

Outside, the waves kept rolling. The stars kept burning.

And inside, wrapped in each other’s warmth, you both knew: this night, this feeling it was unforgettable.

━━━━⊱⋆⊰━━━━

Morning crept in gently warm sunlight filtered through the gauzy curtains, brushing over tangled sheets and bare skin. You blinked awake slowly, your body sore in the sweetest way, limbs draped over someone warm and familiar.

Chanyeol.

His chest rose and fell beneath your cheek, his arm slung around your waist like he was afraid to let you go even in his sleep.

You smiled, stretching lazily as the memories of last night sent a flutter through your stomach. The jacuzzi. The bed. His hands. His voice in your ear.

You glanced up to find his eyes already open, watching you.

“Good morning,” he said, voice deep and deliciously rough with sleep.

“Mmm,” you murmured, resting your chin on his chest. “Were you watching me sleep?”

“Guilty,” he said, brushing your hair out of your face. “You were glowing. I didn’t want to miss it.”

You rolled your eyes playfully but couldn’t help the blush rising to your cheeks.

He smirked. “So… how’s the bikini holding up after last night’s ‘test run’?”

You swatted his chest, laughing. “I think you owe it a sincere apology.”

“I’d rather apologize to your hips,” he murmured, fingers sliding down your side, teasing.

“Park Chanyeol.” You gave him a warning glare that was anything but serious.

He grinned, then sat up suddenly. “Wait here.”

You blinked. “What are you—”

He disappeared into the kitchen area of the cabana. A few minutes later, he returned with a tray two mugs of coffee, cut tropical fruit, and pancakes drizzled with coconut syrup.

“You made breakfast?” you asked, surprised and touched.

“Well… the resort did,” he said with a sheepish grin, setting it down. “But I arranged it. That counts.”

You sat up, pulling the sheets around you, and he leaned in to kiss your shoulder, the gesture soft and lingering.

The two of you ate lazily, trading bites, stealing kisses between sips of coffee. The air smelled like sunscreen and saltwater and something new — something sacred.

At one point, Chanyeol picked up a slice of mango and pressed it to your lips. “I could get used to this.”

“To feeding me mangoes in bed?” you teased.

“To waking up next to you.”

You looked at him, heart full, fingers brushing against his.

The heat of last night was unforgettable but this? This quiet morning, this softness?

This was the part that made you fall even harder.

━━━━⊱⋆⊰━━━━

The sun was high, casting diamonds across the water. The beach was practically empty secluded, private, just for you two. You walked barefoot through the warm sand, wearing a sheer cover-up over your bikini, sunglasses on, the ocean calling to you with every breeze.

Chanyeol walked beside you, shirtless, towel slung over his shoulder and mischief in his smile.

“Bet you didn’t think you’d turn me into a beach guy,” he said, watching the way the wind teased your hair. “But I think I’m obsessed with this whole ‘vacation with Y/N’ thing.”

“Because of the beach?” you smirked.

“Because of you in that bikini again,” he said without hesitation.

You rolled your eyes, laughing. “You’re ridiculous.”

“And you’re dangerous.”

Before you could sass him back, he scooped you up by the waist and ran toward the water. You shrieked as waves splashed around you both, your legs instinctively wrapping around him.

“Chanyeol!” you gasped, clinging to him, soaked and breathless.

He grinned, dipping you lower so the water brushed your thighs, holding you like you weighed nothing. “Should I let go?”

“Don’t you dare.”

He smirked. “Then you’d better kiss me.”

You leaned in lips salty, sun-warmed, grinning against his mouth. When you finally pulled back, he looked at you like he was seeing the entire galaxy in your eyes.

But he had something more up his sleeve.

“Come on,” he said, taking your hand. “I want to show you something.”

You followed him around a rocky bend of the shoreline, feet slipping over smooth stones until the cove came into view hidden from the rest of the beach, quiet and magical. A blanket was already laid out, a little speaker playing soft music, a cooler beside it.

You blinked. “You planned this?”

He shrugged, suddenly a little shy. “Thought maybe we’d want a spot that’s just ours. No interruptions.”

Your heart squeezed.

The two of you collapsed onto the blanket, limbs tangled, sun baking your skin as the music drifted in the breeze. He fed you cold strawberries and traced patterns on your thigh with his fingers, eyes dark and lazy.

“You know,” he murmured, lips brushing your shoulder, “I don’t think I’ve ever wanted someone this much and still wanted to just lay there with them, doing nothing.”

“Same,” you whispered. “Although… you’re not exactly doing nothing with that hand.”

He grinned, devilish. “Want me to stop?”

You rolled onto him, straddling his hips and pulling off your cover-up slowly, sunglasses sliding down your nose.

“Do I look like I want you to stop?”

He looked up at you sun haloing your figure, body glowing, eyes lit with fire and groaned like it physically hurt him.

“You’re going to be the death of me, Y/N.”

But oh, what a way to go.

━━━━⊱⋆⊰━━━━

After a long, lazy day filled with laughter, sunburned kisses, and secret touches, Chanyeol disappeared for a moment, telling you only, “Dress up tonight. Something that makes you feel dangerous.”

And now, as the last light of day faded into a velvet night sky, you walked barefoot down a path lit with lanterns, your dress swaying with the breeze. The scent of jasmine mixed with ocean salt. You followed the glow until

You saw it.

A private dinner table under a canopy of fairy lights. Candles flickering. A soft playlist humming low in the background your favorite kind of music. Petals scattered across the sand.

And him.

Chanyeol stood there, hands in his pockets, dark shirt unbuttoned just enough to be unfair, hair perfectly messy, smile completely wrecked the moment he saw you.

“Holy…” he muttered. “You look unreal.”

You smirked, walking toward him. “You clean up pretty well too, Park.”

He pulled your chair out for you, kissed your temple, then sat across from you with a soft grin. Dinner came in courses slow, delicious, but neither of you cared much for the food. The real meal was in the way his eyes stayed locked on you, how his hand kept brushing yours across the table, how he looked like he was holding back something important.

When dessert came, you licked whipped cream off your spoon with a deliberately slow motion.

He nearly choked.

“You keep doing that,” he said huskily, “and I’m going to end this date real fast.”

You giggled, then tilted your head. “You’ve been quiet. What’s on your mind?”

He stood slowly, walking around to your side of the table. He knelt in the sand, resting his hand gently on your knee.

“Y/N,” he said, suddenly serious. “This trip started out as just an escape… a break. But somewhere between the first kiss in that damn bikini and waking up next to you this morning, I realized something.”

Your breath caught.

“I don’t just want this week with you. I want every week with you. I want the late-night swims and the tangled mornings. The quiet moments. The teasing. The chaos. I want it all if it’s with you.”

You stared at him, completely still, heart thundering.

He smiled, eyes soft. “I’m asking for forever right now. But I am asking if you’ll let me be with you endlessly. If you’ll let me love you the way you deserve.”

Your eyes stung not from the ocean breeze.

You cupped his face, fingers trembling just a little. “You idiot,” you whispered. “You already do.”

Then the sudden movement of his turns to fiddle with his pockets with one small velvet box infront of you unclosed with a diamond ring inside luminesing together with the waves crashing. Then he asked you, “will you marry me?” you didn’t find any words because you already knew what you wanted and to also be with him through light and dark so you said….. “yes, I’ll marry you”

He surged forward and kissed you not rushed, not wild just deep and full and real. A kiss that promised more than just passion. A kiss that said you’re home.

And as the waves rolled in and the candles flickered low, you knew this wasn’t just a vacation anymore.

This was the beginning of something that would burn… forever.

[loeyshine]

Golden Secret

Epoch Book

•*⁀➷pairing: chanyeol x fem reader

Theme: golden retriever au, dog lover, human spirit, magical au, “He was once a golden soul on four legs loyal, quiet, watching. But in her love, he found his voice, his form, and his forever."

Description: to be loved is to be known. Never thought a simple wish would make him be with my side forever. He was a human after all.

Playlist: love will keep us alive — eagles

Chapter 1: Yeol and Me

You had always wanted a dog. Not just any dog, but one with a big heart, a sunny personality, and warm eyes that understood you better than most people ever did. So when you stepped into the animal shelter on a rainy Thursday, you weren’t expecting to find him tail wagging, eyes sparkling, tongue lolling out like he already knew he was going home with you.

You named him “Yeol.”

He was the most beautiful golden retriever you had ever seen lanky, slightly clumsy, but endearing beyond reason. He followed you everywhere, slept by your feet, howled when you were sad, and somehow… seemed too human.

You joked often, “If you were a guy, I’d probably fall in love with you.”

One night, after cuddling beside Yeol on the couch while watching an EXO music video (your little guilty pleasure), you whispered, “Sometimes I wish you were a person… someone I could talk to, laugh with. I’d never feel lonely again.”

The next morning, you woke up not to the sound of excited barking, but to a loud crash in the kitchen.

Panicked, you ran in and screamed.

Standing there, shirtless, wrapped clumsily in one of your blankets, was a tall man with wide brown eyes and messy auburn hair.

“Y/N,” he said slowly, voice deep and rich. “It’s me… Yeol.”

You screamed again. Then passed out.

When you came to, he was still there. Sitting awkwardly on your living room floor, trying not to make eye contact, clearly struggling with the concept of pants.

After a million questions (and a lot of hyperventilating), he explained everything: he had been a golden retriever born under a strange celestial blessing. If someone truly wished from their heart for him to be human he would be.

“I didn’t think it’d actually happen,” he said sheepishly. “But I always wanted to talk to you properly.”

He fidgeted with your throw pillow. “I always… liked you.”

You blinked. “You were my dog.”

“I was always more than just your dog.”

Life got chaotic after that. You taught him how to use chopsticks, what deodorant was, and how not to get distracted by squirrels during walks (he was still working on that). And he? He brought joy back into your every day.

Chanyeol he chose that as his human name was warm and kind, a little dorky, musically gifted, and still had that golden retriever heart that made you fall for him twice as fast.

And somewhere between late-night ramen, shared playlists, and his soft humming while folding laundry, you realized…

Maybe you didn’t need to choose between loving a dog and a man.

Because you had both in one slightly chaotic, endlessly sweet, golden soul.

━━━━⊱⋆⊰━━━━

Chapter 2: Dog Days in Disguise

It had been two weeks since Chanyeol transformed from your golden retriever into a very tall, very attractive human man. Two weeks of trying to teach him how not to bark when surprised, not to chase after delivery scooters, and not to sniff everyone he met.

And now, you had the impossible task of introducing him to your friends. As your “friend from the countryside.”

"Are you sure I can’t just tell them I used to be your dog?" he asked innocently, chewing on a piece of toast… with peanut butter smeared on his nose.

You swatted his hand gently. “No! They’d think I’ve completely lost it. Just act… normal.”

He tilted his head. “Define normal?”

“Don’t sit on the floor. Don’t ask anyone to scratch behind your ears. And for the love of everything, don’t lick anyone.”

He looked vaguely disappointed.

The first test came when your best friend, Minji, came over for movie night. You had prepped Chanyeol like a soldier going into battle.

Minji narrowed her eyes the second she walked in. “Who's this?”

You clapped your hands together. “This is Yeol. My… friend. From Jeju.”

Chanyeol stood and bowed. “Annyeong! I… like bones.”

Silence.

You shot him a death glare. “He means ribs. Like galbi ribs. Right, Yeol?”

“Right! Love those ribs,” he said, nodding rapidly. “Also… chasing no. I mean… chess. I chase chess. Because… strategy.”

Minji stared. “Is he okay?”

“He was homeschooled,” you blurted.

She bought it.

Things spiraled when you brought Yeol along to your friend group’s weekend hangout at the dog café. (You didn't have time to find a sitter, and Yeol begged with those big eyes. The same eyes you had once seen on four legs.)

He lost it.

He practically leapt over the counter when he saw a samoyed. You had to drag him back to your seat by his hoodie.

“What is wrong with you?” you hissed.

“They’re so fluffy,” he whimpered, practically vibrating. “I just wanna sniff.”

“Absolutely not.”

Minji, watching this unfold, leaned in. “So… how long have you two been dating?”

You choked on your latte. “What?! We’re not—”

But Chanyeol smiled that golden grin and said, “She adopted me.”

You kicked his shin under the table.

Later that night, walking home together, you sighed.

“That was a disaster.”

“I thought I did okay.”

“You licked a stranger’s ice cream.”

“They offered! And it was vanilla.”

Despite everything, you laughed. You always laughed around him. He was still your Yeol loyal, loving, a little chaotic, but yours.

“You know,” you said quietly, slipping your hand into his, “you’re worth all the trouble.”

He looked at you with that boyish, wonderstruck smile.

“I’d give up my paws a thousand times for this.”

━━━━⊱⋆⊰━━━━

Chapter 3: Tail of Jealousy

It was supposed to be a simple errand day. You and Yeol were at the local outdoor market, picking out tangerines (he loved to juggle them, terribly), when you heard a voice behind you smooth, deep, and painfully familiar.

“Y/N?”

You turned. And there he was.

Your ex. Tall, effortlessly handsome, crisp shirt tucked into tailored slacks. The kind of man who never had bedhead, never tripped over flat surfaces, never got excited over a new squeaky toy.

“Jihoon,” you said, blinking in surprise. “Hey.”

Yeol, who had just tried balancing a tangerine on his nose (it fell), looked up from the fruit stall. His smile dropped. Instantly.

“Who’s this?” Jihoon asked, eyes glancing at Yeol’s oversized hoodie and banana-patterned socks. “Your… friend?”

You opened your mouth, but Yeol stepped forward, suddenly radiating something much less golden retriever and much more wolf.

“I’m Yeol,” he said coolly, looping an arm around your waist. “Her boyfriend.”

Your eyes widened. It wasn’t technically true… but you didn’t correct him.

Jihoon raised an eyebrow. “Really?”

Yeol stared him down like he was a rival at the dog park. “Really. We live together. I make her breakfast. I sing to her. I know where she keeps the emergency snacks.”

You whispered, “Yeol, not the snack thing—”

Jihoon looked confused. “You sing?”

“Every morning,” Yeol said smoothly, leaning into you. “Also, she likes it when I scratch her back after long rehearsals. Just a fun fact.”

You choked.

“I see,” Jihoon muttered. “Well… it was nice seeing you, Y/N.”

“Yeah,” you said quickly, dragging Yeol toward the other side of the market before he could reveal your midnight instant noodle habits too.

Later, you sat together on a park bench, tangerine juice sticky on your hands.

“You were jealous,” you said, nudging him.

Yeol crossed his arms. “He looked like he’d never fetched a ball in his life. I don’t trust him.”

You burst out laughing. “He was my ex. Emphasis on the ex.”

He looked at you with soft, serious eyes. “You deserve someone who gets excited when you walk in the room. Who loves your weird snack combos and waits outside the bathroom door just to be close to you.”

You blinked. “That’s… weirdly specific.”

“I used to be your dog. It’s in my DNA.”

You laughed, and then maybe it was the citrus-scented breeze, maybe it was the way he looked at you like you were his whole sky you leaned in and kissed him.

It was soft, a little clumsy… like your first time throwing a stick and him catching it midair.

Perfect.

He pulled back and grinned, cheeks flushed. “So… does this mean I’m your official human now?”

You smiled. “Yeah. You’re mine, Yeol.”

And this time, you didn’t just mean the dog.

━━━━⊱⋆⊰━━━━

Chapter 4: Steamy Confusion

You had just stepped into the shower, letting the warm water rush over your shoulders after a long day. Living with Yeol had been a rollercoaster of learning curves from him mistaking the vacuum for a demon to him howling in his sleep. But things had settled lately. He was adjusting surprisingly well to being human.

You were mid-hair rinse, humming softly to yourself, when you heard the bathroom door creak open.

“Yeol?” you called over the sound of the water. “I’m showering!”

Too late.

“Hey, Y/N, have you seen—OH SWEET BISCUITS!”

You shrieked. “PARK CHANYEOL!”

A loud thunk followed as he slammed the door shut in panic, knocking over the laundry basket on his way out.

From the other side of the door, his voice came muffled, panicked, and full of regret. “I’M SORRY! I DIDN’T SMELL YOU I mean, I didn’t hear the water I mean I’m sorry!”

You leaned your forehead against the tiled wall, cheeks flaming. “Didn’t smell me? Seriously?!”

“I meant I’m used to knowing where you are by scent! But you use that coconut shampoo now, and it smells like cupcakes, and I got distracted!”

You snorted despite yourself.

“I swear I didn’t see anything except maybe a blur of shoulder!” he added frantically. “A beautiful shoulder! But I wasn’t trying to see it! I was looking for the lint roller, and OH MY TAIL, IF I STILL HAD ONE, IT’D BE BETWEEN MY LEGS.”

“Yeol,” you called through a laugh, “go sit in the corner and think about what you’ve done.”

“Yes, ma’am!”

You finished your shower quickly, still giggling under your breath. When you walked out wrapped in a towel, Yeol was sitting cross-legged in the hallway, holding a handwritten sign that read:

🚫 BAD BOY 🚫

“I made you tea,” he said sheepishly, holding out a mug.

You raised an eyebrow. “Guilt tea?”

“And apology cookies. I didn’t bake them, but I arranged them nicely.”

You softened. “It’s okay, Yeol. Accidents happen. But maybe knock next time?”

He nodded so fast it made his ears er, hair bounce. “I will. Always. Forever. Loud knocking. Like thunder. Like an apologetic elephant.”

You bit your lip, trying not to smile. “You’re such a disaster.”

“But I’m your disaster,” he said, eyes wide and earnest.

And even wrapped in a towel, tea in hand, with a lint roller still mysteriously missing you realized you wouldn’t trade this life for anything.

━━━━⊱⋆⊰━━━━

Chapter 5: Hotel Hearts & Jealousy

You weren’t sure why you agreed to it.

Maybe it was the way Yeol lit up when he found a “Weekend Staycation” deal online, or how he dramatically declared, “I want to experience what it’s like to be a proper human boyfriend in a hotel, with fluffy pillows and overpriced mini-fridges!”

So here you were, dragging a suitcase into a sleek, modern hotel lobby while Yeol wheeled his own bag with childlike excitement.

“This place smells like citrus and class,” he whispered.

You whispered back, “Please don’t try to sniff anything here.”

“I make no promises.”

As you checked in, a tall, charming bellboy came over to help you with your bags. He smiled at you just a bit too long.

“Let me get that for you, miss,” he said smoothly. “Room 804, correct?”

Yeol’s ears (figuratively) perked up.

“That’s okay,” you said politely. “I’ve got it—”

But the bellboy was already lifting your suitcase with practiced ease. Yeol narrowed his eyes.

“I can carry her bags,” he blurted, stepping forward. “I have very strong arms. I once pulled a sled. In snow.”

The bellboy blinked. “That’s… cool?”

“He’s exaggerating,” you said quickly, grabbing Yeol’s hoodie sleeve. “Thank you, we’ll take it from here.”

In the elevator, Yeol crossed his arms, pouting.

“You’re growling,” you murmured.

“I am not.”

“You’re literally vibrating.”

“He winked at you. He had no business winking at you.”

You nudged him. “Jealous?”

He looked away. “I’m just territorial.”

“That’s not better.”

The hotel room was beautiful plush bed, giant windows, and a ridiculously large bathtub that Yeol dove into fully clothed before you could stop him.

“This is amazing!” he yelled. “It’s like a tiny swimming pool for rich people!”

You laughed and threw a towel at his face. “Clothes off, then bath. Human rules.”

Later, you lounged together in the tub, bubbles everywhere. His hair was damp, cheeks flushed, and his smile a little softer than usual.

“I’ve never felt anything like this,” he whispered. “Warm water. You. This quiet.”

You tilted your head. “What do you mean?”

“I spent so much time waiting. For someone to choose me. And now... you’re here. In all my lives, I think this one’s my favorite.”

You leaned forward and kissed his wet forehead. “Mine too, Yeol.”

A knock on the door interrupted the moment. “Room service!”

Yeol tensed. “If that’s the bellboy, I swear I will bare my teeth.”

You sighed. “It’s food, Yeol. Focus on the fries.”

Later that night, you cuddled under the fluffy hotel blankets, his arm around your waist, his legs tangling with yours like they couldn’t get close enough. And you realized… no matter how chaotic or weird or utterly un-human Yeol still was sometimes

He was exactly what your heart had always needed.

━━━━⊱⋆⊰━━━━

Chapter 6: Runaway Heart

You didn’t mean for it to turn into a fight.

It started with something small a casual conversation over takeout about your old life before him. You’d mentioned your ex again. Just once. Something innocent, like how he used to cook on Sundays.

Yeol had gone silent. His chopsticks paused midair, halfway to his mouth.

You frowned. “Yeol?”

He put the food down carefully. “Do you ever miss him?”

You blinked. “What? No. I was just saying—”

“He knew how to be human,” Yeol said suddenly. “He didn’t chase his own reflection. He didn’t mistake hand lotion for whipped cream. He didn’t embarrass you.”

You dropped your food. “Is that what you think? That you embarrass me?”

He stood. “Sometimes I wonder if you wish I never changed. If I had just stayed your dog simple, safe, quiet. Easy.”

You stood too, voice cracking. “Yeol, you’re not easy. You’re a storm I willingly walked into. But I never wanted anyone else.”

But he wasn’t listening. His face was already crumbling, like a storm cloud collapsing on itself.

“I’m going for a walk.”

“Yeol—”

The door slammed shut before you could reach him.

It started raining thirty minutes later. Not a drizzle a downpour. You grabbed your jacket and bolted out the door.

You found him in the park, under the gazebo where you used to walk him during colder months. He was soaked, hoodie clinging to him, hair dripping.

He didn’t even look up when you approached. Just stared out into the storm.

“I’m sorry,” he murmured. “I didn’t mean to leave like that.”

You knelt beside him, heart racing. “Why did you?”

He finally turned. His eyes were rimmed with red. “Because I love you. And sometimes, I still feel like I’m just a dog who got lucky. Like I’ll never be enough.”

You reached out, cupping his cheek, the rain making everything cold except him.

“Yeol,” you whispered, “you are the only one who’s ever made me feel like home.”

His breath hitched.

You leaned in, pressing your forehead to his. “I don’t want perfect. I want you. Loud, awkward, emotional, tail-wagging-you.”

He chuckled, the sound broken but real. “I don’t even have a tail anymore.”

“I know. But I can still see it in your eyes.”

He kissed you like you were the only thing grounding him in the storm. And maybe, you were.

Later, wrapped in one towel, sitting on the floor of your tiny kitchen and drinking hot cocoa, Yeol rested his head on your shoulder.

“Next time I get jealous or weird, just… tell me.”

“I will.”

“And if I ever run again, chase me?”

“Always,” you promised.

Even if it was through storms. Even if he barked at street lamps. Even if you had to keep reminding him that he wasn’t just a boy who used to be a dog.

He was Chanyeol.

And he was yours.

━━━━⊱⋆⊰━━━━

Chapter 7: Parents, Panic, and Puppy Instincts

“You invited your parents over?” Yeol choked, nearly dropping his cereal bowl. “To this apartment? Today?!”

“Relax,” you said, brushing crumbs off the couch. “They just want to meet the mystery boyfriend who’s made me ‘suspiciously happy.’ They’ll love you.”

Yeol blinked. “I still wag when I’m excited, Y/N.”

“You don’t have a tail anymore.”

“I wag emotionally. It’s worse.”

You laughed. “Just be yourself. Maybe… don’t sniff anyone.”

“No promises.”

When your parents knocked at the door, Yeol was a bundle of nerves in the hallway, practicing his “polite bow” in front of a mirror and muttering, “Humans don’t lick hands. Be normal. Be cool.”

You opened the door with a bright smile.

“Hi Mom, Dad! Come in!”

They stepped in with warm smiles until they saw the tall, wide-eyed man in a button-up shirt tucked in slightly too awkwardly, holding a bouquet of flowers upside down.

Yeol bowed deeply. “It is an honor to sniff MEET you!”

You blinked. “Yeol.”

He panicked. “I brought you… um… leaf sticks?” He turned the flowers right-side up. “Sorry. Nervous.”

Your mom smiled politely. Your dad squinted like he was trying to figure out if Yeol had walked off a reality show.

“So,” your dad said as you sat around the table, “what do you do, Yeol?”

Yeol blinked. “I… play guitar? And I’m very loyal.”

Your mom tilted her head. “That’s… lovely.”

He nodded enthusiastically. “I also know how to sit, stay, and heel figuratively! I mean, I’m respectful. I never dig holes. Anymore.”

You choked on your water. Yeol looked like he wanted to melt into the floor.

But then your dad laughed.

Laughed.

And your mom giggled. “Well, he’s definitely different from Jihoon.”

Yeol’s ears (well, his metaphorical ones) perked up. “You didn’t like him either?”

Your dad shrugged. “Too perfect. No soul. This one…” He gestured at Yeol, who was now nervously rubbing the back of his neck. “This one’s got heart.”

After they left (with your mom telling you she’d never seen you smile so much), Yeol collapsed on the floor.

“I nearly greeted your dad by bumping my head against his knee.”

“You didn’t.”

“I almost did.”

You knelt beside him, brushing a lock of hair from his forehead. “You were perfect.”

He smiled softly. “You really think so?”

You leaned in. “I don’t care if you’re awkward or weird or emotionally tail-waggy. You’re the best thing that ever happened to me.”

Yeol beamed, chest puffing like a proud pup. “So… next time they visit, can I show them my trick where I balance a spoon on my nose?”

You laughed. “Only if you also play them that new song you wrote.”

His eyes sparkled. “Deal.”

In a world where love can be messy, magical, and full of old habits that die hard you and Yeol were figuring it out one paw print, one awkward greeting, one song at a time.

And honestly?

You wouldn’t have it any other way.

━━━━⊱⋆⊰━━━━

Chapter 8: When a Dog Fell in Love

It was raining the first time he saw you cry.

You didn’t notice him watching curled up in your blanket on the floor, phone clutched in your hand, tears slipping quietly down your cheeks like you were trying to hide the fact that your heart was breaking.

He padded into the room, paws silent against the wooden floor. A golden retriever. Loyal. Curious. Maybe just a little too human behind the eyes.

You whispered something between sobs. A name. Jihoon.

Your voice was cracked and raw, like you’d been holding it in for hours.

He didn’t know what heartbreak was. Not really. Not then. But something about the way you curled into yourself, the way your fingers trembled and you buried your face in the same hands that used to feed him, pet him, brush his fur… It made something ache deep inside him. Not instinct. Something more.

So he did the only thing he knew how to do.

He walked over and sat beside you, nudging his nose gently into the crook of your arm. He didn’t bark. He didn’t whine. He just pressed his weight close to yours until you lifted your head and looked at him eyes red, mascara smudged, cheeks wet.

“Oh…” you whispered, voice breaking again. “Hi, Yeol.”

He leaned forward and licked a tear off your cheek.

You laughed, just a little. It sounded broken but real. “That’s gross,” you said, petting his head, “but thank you.”

He stayed with you that whole night. Head on your lap. Eyes watching. Ears flicking at every thunderclap. And while you finally drifted into a fragile sleep, curled against his warmth, something changed inside him.

Somewhere in the wild, ancient code of his soul the part that remembered cold shelters and warm touches he made a decision.

I will protect her. I will never let her feel this alone again. Even if all I can do is stay by her side.

He didn’t know that months later, his wish would come true in the most impossible way that he would wake up one day with fingers instead of paws, a heart racing with human panic, and a voice that could finally say what his bark never could.

But that night that one rainy night was the moment he first fell in love with you.

And even as a dog, he knew.

You were his person.

Cut to the present.

Yeol laid with his head in your lap on the couch, human now, but still wearing that same soulful look in his eyes.

“You remember that night?” you asked softly, brushing your fingers through his hair.

He nodded. “You were crying. I remember wanting to hold you even though I couldn’t.”

You smiled. “You did. In your own way.”

He looked up at you, voice quiet. “I think I loved you even then.”

You bent down and kissed his forehead, whispering, “I know.”

━━━━⊱⋆⊰━━━━

Chapter 9: A Very Human Birthday

You woke up to the smell of something… burning?

You blinked sleepily, the room still dim, and heard a series of soft thuds and Yeol cursing under his breath from the kitchen.

“Yeol?” you called, voice raspy.

There was a pause. Then: “Nothing! All good! Happy Birthday! DON’T COME IN HERE!”

You blinked harder.

A few minutes later, he emerged dramatically from the kitchen, a smudge of frosting on his cheek and wearing an apron that said “Kiss the Cook (Only If You're My Girlfriend)”. He was holding what might once have been a cake.

“Behold,” he said proudly, “your birthday masterpiece.”

You tilted your head. “Is it… supposed to lean like that?”

He glanced at the tilted tower of sugary chaos. “It’s... modern art. Flavor-forward.”

You giggled, walking over and kissing the frosting off his cheek. “It’s perfect.”

He beamed.

But that was only the beginning.

You had expected maybe a quiet day, a dinner at home but Yeol had other plans.

There was a picnic in the park (where he got overly excited and tried to chase a squirrel, knocking over your lemonade).

There was a visit to the local dog shelter (“I wanted to say hi to the old crew,” he said innocently. You were pretty sure he got into a growling match with a husky).

Then there was the big surprise: a private rooftop setup under string lights. Blankets, a speaker, and his guitar.

He made you sit on a little makeshift “throne” of couch cushions.

Then he took a breath, looked you straight in the eyes, and began to play.

The song was clumsy in the most adorable way off-key in one or two spots, the lyrics clearly written by someone who used to think “heel” was a command. But it was so sincere, so tender, you teared up halfway through.

“You fed me before I could speak,

You held me when I barked in my sleep,

I used to sit, stay, roll over

Now I just fall for you over and over...

No leash can hold me back from this,

You’re the human I’d never miss.

And I still wag my heart when you smile,

So if you’ll have me

Stay a while.”

He finished, flushed, and looked nervous. “Too much?”

You tackled him with a hug, nearly knocking him and the guitar over.

“Best. Song. Ever.”

“Even better than ‘Who Let the Dogs Out’?”

You mock-gasped. “How dare you compare your heartfelt love song to that?”

He grinned. “Sorry. I’m still learning this whole ‘romantic human’ thing.”

You whispered against his shoulder, “You’re doing amazing, Yeol.”

Later, curled up under a blanket watching the stars, he rested his head on yours.

“I don’t know what I ever did to deserve this,” he murmured.

“You made a wish,” you whispered back. “To protect me. To stay with me.”

“And somehow,” he said softly, “I got so much more.”

━━━━⊱⋆⊰━━━━

Chapter 10: Fractures

It started small.

You didn’t notice at first the way Yeol flinched when you turned on the vacuum cleaner, or how he growled (yes, actually growled) at a motorcycle speeding past the apartment.

You teased him for it. “Still got a little dog in you, huh?”

He laughed it off. “Old habits. That sound was just… loud.”

But it wasn’t just that.

One morning, you woke up to find him standing on the bed, wagging an invisible tail and barking softly at birds outside the window.

“Yeol?” you asked cautiously.

He blinked, like waking up from a trance. “I… I don’t know why I did that.”

You shrugged it off with a laugh. Maybe he was just being weird.

But then came the moment you couldn’t ignore.

You were walking home late from the convenience store when a dog barked across the street. It was loud, aggressive. You flinched.

Yeol, walking beside you, stopped.

He turned slowly. His eyes flickered golden for just a second.

Not brown.

Golden.

“Yeol?” you said again, more sharply.

His chest rose and fell in shallow breaths. Hands trembling.

And then just for a blink his ears shifted. Not metaphorically. They actually started to elongate, the faintest shimmer of fur teasing the sides of his face.

“No,” he whispered, staggering back. “No, no, no—”

You grabbed his arm. “Yeol, it’s okay—”

“It’s not!” he snapped, stepping away, voice breaking. “I don’t know what’s happening. I thought I was… I thought it was permanent.”

He looked at you like he was scared of himself.

“Maybe I’m not supposed to stay human.”

The wind picked up, ruffling his hair. You reached out slowly, taking his hand in yours. It was still warm, still real. Still Yeol.

“I don’t care what form you’re in,” you said quietly. “Dog, human, something in between I choose you.”

He looked up at you, eyes softening with tears.

“I don’t want to go back,” he whispered. “Not now. Not when I have you.”

“Then we’ll figure this out,” you said fiercely. “Together. I promise.”

Later that night, you sat on the couch with him wrapped in a blanket, sipping tea. He leaned against you like he used to, when he was all fur and tail.

“You still smell the same, you know,” he said sleepily.

You raised an eyebrow. “Like what?”

“Home.”

And even though something was unraveling beneath the surface, even though the magic was flickering… right then, in that moment, everything felt safe again.

━━━━⊱⋆⊰━━━━

Chapter 11: The Day of the Tail

It started like any other morning.

You yawned, stretched, and rolled over in bed to greet your very human boyfriend, only to be met with… fur.

“Yeol?” you croaked, eyes adjusting.

A golden retriever lay sprawled on the bed beside you, tongue lolling out in confusion, blinking up at you.

“No no no no no—” you sat up fast. “Not today.”

The dog Yeol tilted his head and whined softly, lifting one paw and placing it gently on your arm like an apology.

“Oh my god, it actually happened,” you breathed. “You turned back.”

You jumped out of bed and checked the mirror in panic. “Okay. It’s fine. It’s just one day. We’ll—wait…”

You checked your phone.

Four unread messages.

Group chat: Theater Club Incoming 🥳

┃ Baekhyun: “On our way up! Hope you’re awake!!”

You froze. “They’re coming here? Today?!”

Yeol barked once. Loudly. Definitely panicked.

You spun on him. “You can’t bark right now! You’re a dog!”

He whined louder.

Chaos erupted in under a minute.

You grabbed the biggest hoodie you owned, threw it on over your pajamas, and shoved Yeol into your bedroom closet.

“I’m sorry, babe, I love you, but please don’t make a sound.”

He thumped his tail once, pitifully, but sat down obediently.

The doorbell rang.

You slapped a smile on your face and opened the door to see Baekhyun, Jihye, and Seul standing there with bubble tea, cake, and suspicious grins.

“Surprise day-off hangout!” Baekhyun declared. “Also we brought cake because Seul said you needed serotonin.”

You nodded slowly, trying not to scream. “So thoughtful.”

They plopped onto your couch like they owned the place. You hovered, tense, as Baekhyun looked around.

“Where’s Yeol?” he asked casually. “Doesn’t he live here now?”

“He’s uh sleeping. Super jetlagged. Out cold.”

Jihye blinked. “Jetlagged? He didn’t fly anywhere.”

You grinned. “Emotionally jetlagged.”

The closet door creaked.

Your blood ran cold.

Baekhyun raised an eyebrow. “Did your closet just… bark?”

“No!” you said immediately. “That was… my ringtone.”

Seul: “Your ringtone barks?”

“Yeah. It’s like, vintage. Retro barking. It’s a niche thing.”

Baekhyun stood up. “I’m gonna check on him.”

“NO—” You practically dove across the room to block the hallway. “He’s...naked!”

Three sets of blinking eyes.

“Like, super naked. Sweaty. It was a night.”

They all simultaneously recoiled.

Baekhyun made a face. “Okay, ew, got it.”

By some miracle, you survived the visit. Baekhyun left a bag of snacks “for your boyfriend’s recovery,” Jihye gave you a suspicious hug, and Seul whispered, “Tell Yeol to hydrate.”

You collapsed against the door after they left, exhaling hard.

The closet door creaked again, and Yeol padded out cautiously, still golden, still fluffy.

You looked down at him. “You are the most high-maintenance boyfriend I’ve ever had.”

He barked once and wagged his tail.

You rolled your eyes. “I love you too.”

━━━━⊱⋆⊰━━━━

Chapter 12: A Cost Too Great

The rain fell in thin sheets that morning, blurring the city skyline through your apartment window. You sat cross-legged on the floor, a towel draped over your lap, drying Yeol’s soaked golden fur.

“You really had to chase the garbage truck in this weather?” you muttered, gently rubbing behind his ears.

He huffed sheepish but unapologetic.

And then, right there in your hands, he shuddered.

You froze.

His fur shimmered, like light dancing on water. And then it began.

His form stretched. Bones realigned. His front paws lengthened into fingers, his golden coat receded, and in less than a breath, Chanyeol sat in front of you, dripping wet, shivering, and barely conscious.

“Yeol!” You reached for him instinctively. His skin was clammy, his breathing shallow.

You wrapped the towel around him, guiding him gently to the couch.

His eyes fluttered open.

“Hey,” he murmured weakly. “Missed you.”

You laughed softly, but it caught in your throat. “You’re burning up.”

He swallowed hard. “It’s getting harder. Staying human… I can feel it pulling at me.”

“Pulling?”

“Like I’m holding back a tide,” he whispered. “Every minute I stay like this… it’s like my body forgets what it’s supposed to be.”

Your fingers tightened around his. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I didn’t want you to worry. You’ve already done so much for me.” His voice cracked. “I didn’t want to go back.”

“But at what cost, Yeol? You’re hurting.”

He looked away, ashamed. “I just… I’m scared. What if one day I can’t come back? What if I disappear?”

A tear slipped down your cheek. You wiped it away quickly.

“You won’t,” you said fiercely. “We’ll find a way. There has to be one.”

He gave you a weak smile. “Even if I’m part-dog forever?”

You kissed his forehead. “Especially then.”

That night, you sat beside him as he slept, his hand curled in yours. Every now and then his skin would flicker a patch of gold shimmer, the hint of a paw, a twitch of phantom ears.

But he stayed.

With you.

For now.

━━━━⊱⋆⊰━━━━

Chapter 13: A Memory to Hold

Yeol stood in front of the mirror, fiddling awkwardly with a dress shirt.

You peeked around the doorway, eyes widening. “Whoa. Fancy.”

He turned with a sheepish grin, cheeks pink. “Too much?”

“No,” you said, smiling softly. “You look like someone about to propose. Or rob a fancy restaurant.”

He laughed the real, deep kind that rumbled from his chest and made you feel like everything was still okay.

“I just… I wanted to take you out. Like a real boyfriend does. Like a real human.”

You walked up to him, your hands brushing over his arms as you smoothed the fabric. “Yeol, you are real.”

He cupped your cheek. “Maybe. But for how long? That, I don’t know. So I want tonight to be one thing I never forget.”

He took you to the night market.

Not some flashy, polished place a hidden one, tucked into a street you never noticed. Lanterns glowed low and warm, casting soft gold light across stalls selling tteokbokki, hand-painted earrings, old jazz vinyls, and claw machines that Yeol was determined to defeat.

He pulled you along with childlike excitement, smiling at every dog that passed, buying you a caramel candy shaped like a rabbit, and taking polaroid photos with the tiny camera he found in a bargain box.

And then, in the middle of it all he stopped.

Right under a string of fairy lights. His gaze lingered on you like he was memorizing your face.

“Dance with me?” he asked.

“In the middle of the market?”

He nodded. “No one’s watching. Or if they are — who cares? I’m with the most beautiful girl in the world.”

You laughed and he spun you gently, pulling you close. There was no music, but you swayed anyway, feet shuffling against uneven pavement.

His heartbeat was steady under your hand. His warmth, real.

His human form, still holding.

But his eyes… they flickered, just once, that same golden hue beneath the brown. You felt it. The ticking clock behind every soft smile.

“I’ll remember this,” he whispered against your temple. “No matter what happens.”

You kissed him like he was slipping through your fingers.

He kissed you back like he was anchoring himself to the world.

Later, on the walk home, he whispered, “I’m scared to sleep.”

“Why?”

“Because I don’t know what I’ll wake up as.”

You squeezed his hand. “Whatever you wake up as I’ll be here.”

He didn’t say anything for a moment. Then he whispered, “Thank you… for choosing a stray like me.”

You shook your head, smiling through tears. “I didn’t choose a stray, Yeol. I chose you.”

━━━━⊱⋆⊰━━━━

Chapter 14: Pawprints in the Past

It started with a dream.

You were back at the shelter. The lights flickered overhead, the cages were empty. Only one remained closed the one where Yeol had once sat, tongue lolling, tail wagging, a golden retriever that didn’t know he’d change your life.

But in the dream, he wasn’t a dog. He stood behind the bars, human and silent, eyes glowing gold.

“Find me,” he whispered. “Before it’s too late.”

You woke up with your heart pounding.

By sunrise, you were out the door.

The shelter was quiet when you arrived, only the morning staff shuffling around with coffee cups and clipboards. A familiar volunteer named Minji recognized you instantly.

“Y/N? Haven’t seen you since you adopted Sunny,” she smiled. “How is he?”

“Still bright,” you said vaguely. “I… I was wondering if you had any older records? Of animals that stayed here longer than normal?”

Minji tilted her head. “You mean like long-term residents? There were a few. One of them, weirdly enough, was Sunny. He’d been here longer than any dog we’d had.”

She led you through the back office, the smell of old paper and antiseptic curling in the air. You sifted through dusty cardboard boxes labeled "Archives.”

And then you found it.

A thin leather-bound notebook, slipped between two outdated adoption forms.

The cover was cracked, but one word was scratched into the front in looping, faded ink:

"Yeollim."

You stared at it.

Yeol.

Inside were messy journal entries, dated over ten years ago.

April 7th: The dog is too smart. Watches me like he understands every word. Follows commands I never taught him. He doesn’t bark unless someone lies.

April 22nd: Tried to adopt him out again. Came back three days later returned by the family. Said he "made things break." They didn’t mean furniture.

May 3rd: Heard humming. No music playing. Dog was staring out the window. I swear… it sounded like he was singing.

You swallowed.

July 10th: I asked him, “Who are you?” He looked straight at me.

And the lights blew out.

Last entry:

August 31st: He’s not aging. Not really. Every time I check, his eyes look older. I think… someone cursed him. Or protected him. Either way… he's not just a dog.

The journal ended there.

You sat on the floor of the office, the journal trembling in your hands.

Yeol hadn’t just stumbled into your life.

He’d been waiting.

For years.

Alone.

And now, the clock was ticking faster than ever.

━━━━⊱⋆⊰━━━━

Chapter 15: The Name of the Forgotten

You barely remembered the walk home.

The journal was tucked under your arm like a living thing, your fingers pressing hard into its worn spine as if it might vanish. You didn’t stop until you reached the apartment and pushed through the door.

Yeol was on the couch, half-asleep with a blanket around his shoulders and one ear yes, slightly furred peeking through his tousled hair.

He looked up. Blinked.

“You found something,” he said before you could speak.

You walked over and placed the journal in his lap.

“It’s yours,” you said. “Or… it was.”

He opened it slowly, eyes scanning the pages like old ghosts were crawling out of the ink. He didn’t speak for a long time. You waited.

Finally, he said, “Yeollim.”

You sat beside him. “You know the name.”

“I don’t know how,” he murmured, eyes distant. “But it’s mine. It always has been.”

You leaned in closer. “Do you think it’s your real name?”

He shook his head. “It’s older than a name. It feels… like a title.”

He flipped to the final page again. His fingers trembled slightly as he traced the last line:

He’s not just a dog.

“I think,” he whispered, “I wasn’t born in a normal way. Not like you. Not like most.”

You waited.

He looked at you, something ancient flickering behind his eyes.

“There’s a legend,” he said, voice quiet, like recalling a dream. “About guardians. Animal spirits born from wishes. They protect lonely people. The forgotten. The broken.”

You froze. “Like familiars?”

“More like... anchors,” he said. “We’re given shape usually as animals and we stay near the ones who need us. But sometimes… if the bond becomes strong enough, we take human form.”

Your breath caught.

“And that’s what happened with us.”

Yeol nodded. “You chose me. Not just as a dog. You loved me even before I knew I could change. That’s what pulled me through.”

“But why is it getting harder?” you asked, barely above a whisper. “Why are you slipping?”

He looked down. “Because the magic was never meant to last forever. Guardians disappear when their purpose is fulfilled.”

“No,” you said immediately. “That’s not fair. You didn’t just protect me you became my partner. My family.”

He smiled, soft and sad. “Maybe that was the point.”

You reached out and cupped his cheek, your thumb brushing the corner of his eye. “We’re not done yet, Yeollim. If there’s a way to keep you here, I’ll find it.”

A golden shimmer danced beneath his skin, brief but warm. He leaned into your touch.

“I’ll stay,” he murmured. “As long as I can.”

━━━━⊱⋆⊰━━━━

Chapter 16: You Always Saw Me

The apartment was quiet that night. Yeol sat on the floor, the leather journal open beside him, long fingers absentmindedly tracing the creases in the page. You were curled on the couch, watching him.

He hadn't spoken much since you'd discovered the name "Yeollim."

But now, something had changed.

“I remember the park,” he said suddenly, voice soft, as though speaking too loudly might shatter the fragile memory. “You were six. You scraped your knee trying to catch a butterfly.”

You blinked. “What?”

He looked up. “You cried, but not for long. You talked to a golden retriever sitting nearby. You told him, ‘Don’t worry. I’m okay now. I’m brave like you.’”

Your heart skipped. “That was… you?”

He nodded. “I was still only part-conscious. Just a spirit lingering in a dog’s skin. But your voice reached me. I remembered it. Always.”

You felt your chest tighten.

Yeol kept going, eyes distant.

“You used to sneak extra treats from the bakery and hide them under a bench at the shelter. For me. You thought no one saw.” He smiled. “You whispered secrets into my fur before anyone else ever saw me.”

“I didn’t realize…”

“No one did,” he said. “Not even me. But every time you came close I remembered more. I felt… solid. Present. Alive.”

You crossed the room and knelt in front of him. “You were there. All this time. Even before I brought you home.”

“You saved me more than once,” he whispered, a small gold glint flickering in his pupils. “When you were twelve and alone at that bus stop after dark… I was there. When you cried in your room after your parents fought… I was there, curled up under the window.”

He closed his eyes. “I didn’t know I had a name until you gave me one.”

“Yeol,” you whispered, reaching for his hands.

“They called me Yeollim in the shelter,” he said. “But you named me Yeol. Warmth. Firelight. You gave me a place to exist.”

Tears slid down your cheeks. “And you gave me a reason to feel safe.”

He opened his eyes, and the gold in them glowed brighter for just a moment.

“I think I’ve always belonged to you.”

You leaned in and kissed him gently not out of desperation or fear, but from something deeper. A bond etched across lifetimes. Across worlds.

And he kissed you back like it was a vow.

━━━━⊱⋆⊰━━━━

Chapter 17: Once, In Another Life

It began with a soft humming.

In your sleep, it drifted like a lullaby on wind familiar, bittersweet. You opened your eyes not to your apartment, but to a vast meadow under a lavender sky, touched by dusk. Lanterns swayed from willow trees. Fireflies pulsed in the air like scattered stars.

You were barefoot, in soft robes. Your hair was longer. Your face younger? Older? Timeless.

A village rested beyond the hill, thatched roofs and stone paths winding down into warmth.

And on the edge of the meadow stood him.

Not Yeol exactly. But him. Tall, strong, and glowing in the twilight.

His clothes were ceremonial like that of an old-world guardian. Embroidered with golden threads shaped like pawprints and falling leaves. His hair was longer, tied back. His eyes glowed softly, like a creature made of stardust and memory.

You stepped toward him.

He turned, and the moment your eyes met, your breath caught.

“Yeol?” you asked.

He smiled gently. “I was called other names, once. But you always knew me.”

“I… I don’t understand.”

“You don’t need to,” he said, voice like wind over water. “Only remember.”

He offered his hand. And when you took it, the world shifted.

Now: a different life.

You were in a garden filled with chrysanthemums. Wearing a pale pink hanbok, your hands covered in ink from writing scrolls. He stood nearby, human and radiant, watching you with the same quiet awe.

“You always asked about the stars,” he said.

“And you always answered like they were old friends.”

He laughed. “Maybe they were.”

“You said you weren’t from here. That you were a guardian, just… in between duties.”

“I was,” he murmured, tracing a falling leaf as it passed. “Until I met you.”

“And then?”

“Then I stayed.”

The memory blurred again the wind carrying you through time like pages turning.

A marketplace. A battlefield. A quiet cottage with a single teacup set out for someone who never returned.

Each time, you were different yet always the same. And he was always there. Sometimes a stranger. Sometimes a friend. Sometimes a shadow beside a firelight.

And each time, he chose you.

Until one life, he didn’t make it through.

The dream ended in the same meadow where it began.

Yeol knelt in the grass, gold dust on his shoulders. Fading.

You reached for him, eyes wide. “Wait no please—”

“I’ll find you again,” he said, voice thin but warm. “Even if I’m only a stray with no name. Even if it takes a hundred more lives. I’ll always find you.”

He placed a soft kiss on your forehead.

And the dream shattered into gold.

You woke up gasping, heart pounding, eyes wet with tears.

Beside you, Yeol stirred. He looked at you and, for a long moment, neither of you spoke.

But he reached out and cupped your cheek.

“You remember now,” he whispered.

You nodded.

And for the first time, it truly felt like you’d come home.

━━━━⊱⋆⊰━━━━

Chapter 18: Love, the Final Spell

The journal pages were spread across the floor, ink glowing faintly under the flicker of candlelight. Moonlight streamed through the window like a promise. You and Yeol sat close, knees touching, hearts beating like twin drums.

The answer had always been there tucked into the last faded passage, written in a trembling hand:

“Only the purest bond may bind the spirit to form. Not magic. Not blood. But love. Love that is chosen. Love that is returned.”

Yeol read it aloud, then let the book fall gently shut.

He turned to you slowly, eyes shining. “That’s it?”

You nodded, unable to stop the smile. “That’s it.”

“It’s not some rare gem? Not a secret ritual in the mountains? Just… love?”

Your hand found his. “Not just love. True love. Real. Undeniable. Constant. The kind that brought you to me across lifetimes.”

He let out a shaky breath part disbelief, part awe. “So I can stay? If we…”

You leaned forward and pressed your forehead to his. “You already did. You stayed when you were a dog. You stayed when it hurt to be human. You stayed when you were afraid.”

“And you loved me anyway,” he whispered.

You smiled. “I still do.”

His lips met yours not desperate or rushed this time, but with reverence. As if sealing a vow that had been made across centuries. The moment your mouths met, something shifted.

The gold shimmer that had haunted Yeol’s skin for weeks began to spread, not like a warning but like a sunrise.

It bathed him in light.

The fur at his ears vanished. The flicker in his irises settled into warm brown. His heartbeat steadied. His skin felt wholly human beneath your hands solid, sure, and glowing with life.

“I feel…” he murmured, pulling back. “Whole.”

You exhaled a laugh, giddy and teary. “You’re not going anywhere, are you?”

He looked around, flexing his fingers like he’d just been born. “No. I’m staying. For good.”

He pulled you into his arms, and you wrapped yours around his neck, burying your face in the curve of his shoulder.

“For the first time,” he said softly, “I’m not scared of tomorrow.”

You clung tighter. “Good. Because I want a thousand tomorrows with you.”

And above you, the last candle flickered and went out not in loss, but in peace.

Yeollim, the spirit, was no more.

But Yeol, the man you loved, was finally real.

━━━━⊱⋆⊰━━━━

Chapter 19: Forever Now

The morning light poured in through the kitchen window, casting a soft glow over the two of you as you bustled around. Yeol, fully human now, was at the counter, a flour-covered apron tied around his waist his hair still a little messy from sleep, but that only made him more endearing. He was humming softly to himself, tapping his fingers along the counter in a rhythm you recognized all too well.

“I told you,” you teased, pulling a cup of coffee from the pot, “you don’t have to bake every morning.”

“Just wanted to make sure you never forget,” he said with a grin, glancing over his shoulder at you. “I’m the best at breakfast now, huh?”

You sipped your coffee and smiled at him. “I’ll believe it when I taste those pancakes.”

His expression became mock-serious. “You’re in for a treat, my love.”

You set your mug down and walked over to the counter, leaning on it and watching him work with a mixture of amusement and fondness. There was something deeply comforting about seeing him so at ease now. No more flickers of gold in his eyes, no more magic that threatened to pull him away. Just him, human and real, with you.

The sound of pancakes sizzling filled the room as Yeol slid the spatula under the golden-brown circles, flipping them with the practiced ease of someone who’d spent years perfecting it. You could practically taste the warmth of the moment, the way everything felt right as if the universe had always meant for you two to end up here.

“You’re quiet today,” he said, glancing at you as he reached for the syrup bottle. “Got something on your mind?”

You shrugged, smiling softly. “Just thinking. About how… normal this feels now. How good it feels.”

He put the spatula down and walked over to you, brushing a stray strand of hair from your face. “It’s real, Y/N. We’re real. And it’s more than I ever hoped for.”

You leaned in, resting your forehead against his. “Yeah. I guess you’re stuck with me forever now.”

“I wouldn’t have it any other way,” he said, his voice low and full of warmth.

As you kissed him, the sound of pancakes forgotten for a moment, you could feel it the certainty of the life ahead of you. No magic. No curses. Just two people who had fought for each other, who had chosen each other across time and space, and who would continue to choose each other every day.

The world outside was waking up, and so were you fully human, fully alive, and fully in love.

You pulled away from him, giving him a mischievous grin. “Now, about those pancakes…”

Yeol raised an eyebrow, his playful side emerging. “You’re lucky I love you,” he teased, grabbing the plate of pancakes and setting it in front of you. “But just so you know, I’m never letting you out of the kitchen again. Breakfast is my domain.”

You laughed, digging into the pancakes. “We’ll see about that.”

And in the warmth of the kitchen, surrounded by laughter and the simple pleasures of life, you both knew one thing for sure love had brought you here, and love would keep you together for all the years to come.

No magic. No curses. Just forever.

━━━━⊱⋆⊰━━━━

Chapter 20: The Shower and the Questions

The steam curled around the bathroom, fogging up the mirrors as the warm water cascaded over the two of you. Yeol, still adjusting to his human form, stood beside you, his eyes wide in wonder as he gazed at the showerhead above.

"I never realized how nice it is to have… warm water fall on you," he said, a chuckle escaping him as he ran his fingers through his hair. You couldn't help but smile at his childlike wonder — even though he was fully grown, there was something endearing about his innocence in this new human experience.

You turned to grab the body wash, but when you did, you noticed Yeol wasn’t quite focused on the water anymore. He was looking at you. His gaze lingered for a moment, then quickly darted away.

"Yeol?" you asked, raising an eyebrow.

He froze, his eyes a little wide. "I—uh—sorry! I didn't mean to stare! It’s just… uh… you look so different now! I mean—" He stammered, clearly trying to backpedal as his face turned a shade of pink you hadn’t seen on him before. "You know, in a good way! But um—"

You laughed, unable to hold it in. "Yeol, it’s okay. You’re not used to this human thing, right?"

"Right!" he blurted, nodding quickly. "It's just that, uh, I’ve never really seen... a human body before." His gaze flickered back to you, then away again. "I mean, I’ve seen your face, and I’ve seen you in… other ways, but this is… different." His words trailed off, and you could tell he was trying to be respectful but was caught in a wave of curiosity.

You chuckled again, a warmth spreading through your chest. "It’s okay to be curious. But we don’t have to make it awkward."

Yeol's eyes met yours again, this time with an almost childlike innocence. "But… why are some parts… different from others?" He gestured vaguely in the direction of your body but didn’t quite know how to explain himself. "Like, why is your chest... like that?" He looked utterly puzzled.

You blinked, trying to hold back a laugh. “Uh, that’s… um, part of being human. Different bodies have different shapes and things. It’s natural.”

Yeol nodded solemnly, clearly taking mental notes, his face still flushed. "Okay, so… does that mean that, uh, everyone’s different?"

"Yes," you said gently, trying to help him understand without embarrassing him. "Bodies are all different, Yeol. That’s part of being human. It’s… kind of a beautiful thing, really."

He nodded thoughtfully, then a mischievous glint appeared in his eyes. "So… does that mean I’m allowed to ask questions about it?"

You raised an eyebrow, unsure whether he was being playful or just genuinely curious. "I suppose you can, but some things are better left to a later time, don’t you think?"

He grinned. "I guess I’ll save them for later, then." He reached out to grab the shampoo bottle, and you could see the wheels turning in his head.

And suddenly, before you knew it, he was standing close to you, his face serious. "But… I still don’t get why your hair looks so soft and shiny, while mine just turns all fluffy and… well, like a dog’s."

You snorted at his completely non-sequitur question. "That’s a different mystery. We’ll need a whole research paper for that one."

He stared at you, unbothered, eyes gleaming with affection. "I don’t need a research paper. I have you. And I have all the time in the world to figure things out."

You felt your heart melt at his simple sincerity. You leaned forward and placed a gentle kiss on his cheek. "You’re right. We have all the time in the world."

As the water continued to pour over you both, it wasn’t the physical closeness that mattered most in that moment. It was the trust, the innocence, and the intimacy of learning each other. Of sharing these small, sometimes awkward, but completely real moments.

━━━━⊱⋆⊰━━━━

Chapter 21: Final Chapter, A Moment of True Love

The room was quiet, bathed in the soft glow of moonlight filtering through the curtains. The air was warm, and the only sound was the steady rhythm of their breathing, slow and synchronized.

Yeol and Y/N were tangled in the sheets, but it wasn’t the physical closeness that made the moment feel so significant. It was the way their hearts beat in harmony, the way their eyes met and held, as if trying to convey all the things that words couldn’t express.

Yeol’s hand gently brushed your cheek, his touch light as a feather, as if afraid to break the fragile magic of the moment. His eyes were soft, filled with a quiet affection that spoke volumes. The love between you both had grown in so many ways, but this this was the culmination of everything. It was more than just a physical connection it was a promise, a bond that transcended time and space.

“I never thought this would be real,” Yeol whispered, his voice thick with emotion. “That I would get to have this you with me.”

You smiled, a warmth spreading through your chest. You had both come so far, through trials and magic and fears. But in this moment, none of that mattered. What mattered was that you were here together, completely, without barriers. “You’re real, Yeol. This is real. And I’m so glad you’re here.”

His thumb gently traced your lips, and you leaned into his touch, your eyes fluttering shut for a moment. The softness of his hand against your skin sent a shiver down your spine, and when you opened your eyes again, you saw him watching you with such tenderness, such reverence, that it made your heart ache.

“You make me feel like I belong,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. “Like I’ve always belonged here, with you.”

You cupped his face in your hands, pulling him closer until his forehead rested gently against yours. “You’ve always belonged here, Yeol. Always.”

And then, in that stillness, it was as though the world outside didn’t exist anymore. All that mattered was this moment, the warmth of his body pressed against yours, the soft rhythm of your breaths, the quiet trust between you. The way his hands moved with such care, as though every touch was a question, a promise.

When your lips met, it wasn’t frantic or rushed. It was slow, gentle, like you were savoring every second, every feeling. His kiss tasted of love of everything you had been through, everything you had overcome. It was a kiss that told stories of past lives and future dreams, of trust and loyalty, of promises made and kept.

As the night stretched on, you held each other close, wrapped in warmth and love. And when the first light of dawn began to creep through the window, painting the room in soft hues of gold, you knew that no matter what came next, you had found something that would last forever.

Yeol was no longer just a spirit in disguise. He was real. And you were his, as he was yours. Not because of magic, not because of fate, but because of love. The love you shared, and the love that had always been waiting for you both.

And that was enough.

[loeyshine]

Maudlin

one-shot

•*⁀➷pairing: chanyeol x fem reader

Theme: drunk, chaos night, patient lover, chanyeol taking care of you, “I'm not drunk, I'm just grape at puns."

Description: coming home quondam at night would be kinda uncanny if he wasn’t there for me.

Playlist: heaven knows i’m miserable now — the smiths

The door to the apartment flew open with the kind of dramatic flair only a drunken queen like me could provide. Well, technically, it opened because my two best friends shoved it open while holding me upright like a drunk ragdoll. Their arms were draped over each other’s shoulders, forming a solid Y/N support system.

“I LIVE HERE!” I announced to no one in particular, then looked around in confusion. “Wait... do I live here?”

“You do,” my best friend said through a giggle, adjusting my weight before I dragged us all down with me. “For the tenth time, Y/N.”

“HOME SWEET APARTMENT!” I cheered, raising one arm triumphantly while the other tried to unzip my purse. “I have... I brought... a thing... for Chanyeol.”

“You can give him your gift after you stop trying to unzip your purse upside down,” the other added dryly.

And then like magic the hallway glowed.

Okay, not really. But there he was.

Chanyeol.

My boyfriend. My man. My tall, beautiful, currently-very-worried man.

He stepped into the hallway the moment he heard the door. His hair was messy from his fingers running through it one too many times. His eyes scanned me from head to toe.

I grinned like a child on a sugar high.

“CHAN-YEEEEE!” I screamed, suddenly finding a burst of energy. I attempted to run toward him but instead stumbled forward, tripped over my own heel (which, by the way, I was only wearing one of), and face-planted directly into his chest.

Strong arms wrapped around me instantly.

“I got you,” he murmured, his voice low and warm, even though I could feel the relief buzzing in his chest. “You okay?”

I looked up at him, blinking. “Why are there two of you? Wait. Wait... do you have a twin? That’s not fair.”

Chanyeol sighed softly, clearly trying not to laugh.

My friends backed away carefully, waving. “She’s all yours now, good luck.”

And then it was just me and him.

“I was worried,” he said quietly as he brushed a strand of hair from my face. “You said you’d be home hours ago.”

I felt a tiny flicker of guilt, but it drowned immediately under tequila and poor decisions. “I got distracted,” I whispered. “There was karaoke... and someone brought cake. Did you know I can rap?”

“You can’t rap.”

“I CAN if you give me a beat!”

He raised an eyebrow. “Please don’t.”

Instead of proving him wrong with my undeniable rap skills, I fumbled through my purse and pulled out a crumpled napkin. “I brought you this,” I said, holding it up proudly. “Souvenir from the bar.”

He stared at it, then back at me.

“You’re unbelievable.”

I grinned, poking his cheek. “But I’m cute, right?”

He didn’t answer just tugged me gently toward the couch. I collapsed onto it, arms flailing like I was falling into the sea. I popped back up a second later, grabbed a cushion, and launched into what I swore was an elegant interpretive dance.

“This is the story of us,” I told him with full sincerity. “Told through the language of throw pillows.”

Chanyeol leaned against the wall, arms crossed, watching with a smile that could melt every star in the sky.

“Y/N…”

“Shhh,” I said, raising one finger in the air like I was conducting an orchestra. “Don’t ruin the moment.”

Eventually, I ran out of steam. Or gravity took over. Or the floor started tilting. Either way, I ended up sprawled on the couch with my head in Chanyeol’s lap, eyes fluttering closed.

“Hey,” I whispered sleepily. “Still mad at me?”

He didn’t say anything for a second. Then he leaned down and kissed the top of my head.

“No,” he murmured. “Just… promise you’ll text next time.”

I nodded against him. “Promise. Also… I’m really hungry.”

He laughed quietly. “I’ll make you ramyeon.”

“Marry me,” I mumbled, already dozing off.

“I already plan to.”

The sun was too bright. The air was too still. My mouth felt like I’d swallowed a desert, and my head was pounding a rhythm louder than any nightclub bass.

I groaned, face buried deep into the soft pillow beneath me. A warm blanket was draped over my body suspicious, considering I don’t remember putting it there.

Also suspicious? The familiar deep voice humming softly from the kitchen.

Wait.

Wait.

My eyes flew open. Oh god. Last night.

I sat up in a panic. Or tried to. The moment I lifted my head, the pain punched me right between the eyes and I collapsed again with a dramatic whimper.

From the kitchen, I heard it Chanyeol’s unmistakable laugh.

“I was wondering when you’d rise, Queen of Chaos.”

“Don’t,” I mumbled into the pillow. “Please don’t talk to me. I might cry.”

He appeared a moment later at the edge of the couch, holding a glass of water and painkillers in one hand, a bowl of steaming ramyeon in the other.

“Too bad. You talked a lot last night. It’s my turn.”

I peeked up at him cautiously. He looked far too good for this early in the day soft hair, hoodie, amused smirk on his face.

I reached for the water and took a sip, then croaked, “How bad was I?”

He raised an eyebrow. “Define ‘bad.’”

“Oh no.”

“You brought me a used napkin as a gift.”

I blinked. “That’s not... okay, yeah, that sounds like me.”

“You also tried to enter Show Me The Money with a freestyle rap about your shoes.”

“Oh god—”

“And you performed what you called ‘the story of our love’ using a throw pillow and questionable dance moves.”

“Chanyeol, please.”

“You told your cushion, and I quote: ‘You’re the only one who understands me.’”

I grabbed a pillow and shoved my face into it, groaning. “Can I die now?”

“Nope,” he said, sitting beside me and placing the bowl of ramyeon in my lap. “Not until you eat.”

I looked up at him, heart still half-embarrassed, half-melting. “You really stayed with me all night?”

“You’re mine,” he said simply. “Where else would I be?”

The heat in my face wasn’t from the hangover anymore.

Chanyeol tucked a strand of hair behind my ear and leaned in close. “You’re lucky you’re cute, Y/N.”

I smirked weakly. “You said that last night.”

“I meant it both times.”

I scooped a spoonful of ramyeon, smiling despite the throbbing in my head. “Thank you. For taking care of me. Even when I’m a disaster.”

He bumped his shoulder gently against mine. “You're my disaster.”

The bowl of ramyeon was halfway finished and I was finally sitting upright, the blanket still wrapped around my shoulders like a cape. Chanyeol had moved to the floor, back against the couch, long legs stretched out as he scrolled through his phone but not without sneaking glances at me every few seconds like I might suddenly fall over again.

“Stop looking at me like I’m a baby deer learning to walk,” I muttered.

“I’m just making sure you don’t try to slow dance with a throw pillow again,” he said with a teasing smirk.

I groaned. “I want to un-live that entire night.”

“Too late,” he said cheerfully. “It lives rent-free in my brain now. Forever.”

I nudged his shoulder with my foot. He caught it and held it in place like he was arresting me. “No violence. You’re still under medical observation.”

“Medical observation?” I laughed. “You're so dramatic.”

“Says the girl who did finger hearts at the hallway plant and called it her ‘leafy soulmate.’”

I wheezed. “Stop! You’re making my hangover worse!”

He smiled, then pulled my leg over his lap, casually anchoring me there like I wasn’t going anywhere. His fingers started drawing lazy circles on my shin through the blanket. My laughter quieted. The room felt peaceful warm, sleepy sunlight pouring through the window, his soft breathing matching the slow ticking of the wall clock.

After a beat, he said it gently.

“Babe... maybe no more drinking like that?”

I blinked down at him. “Yeah?”

“You don’t have to stop having fun,” he added quickly, “but… I don’t like not hearing from you. I was really worried last night. My mind went to the worst places.”

The guilt crept up my chest, squeezing behind my ribs. I leaned forward, resting my forehead against the back of his head.

“I’m sorry, Channie. I didn’t mean to scare you. I just... got carried away.”

“I know,” he said, turning so we were face to face. “I’m not mad. Just... next time? Text me. And maybe drink half as much.”

I nodded, arms slipping around his shoulders. “Okay. I promise. For you… and my liver.”

He laughed and hugged me tightly, tucking me against his chest. We sat like that for a while — no music, no noise, just the two of us in the quiet.

Eventually, he stood up with me still clinging to him like a sleepy koala.

“What are you doing?” I asked.

“Bed,” he said simply. “We’re not leaving it for the next five hours.”

“Netflix and naps?”

“And forehead kisses every twenty minutes.”

I smiled, burying my face in his hoodie.

“Best hangover cure ever.”

[loeyshine]

being a writer is constantly google the definitions of words you already know the meanings of because your brain's always paranoid and telling you maybe you've been using them wrong your entire life

I can excuse misusing words in my daily life but my mlm slow-burn enemies to lovers smut has to be perfect

[loeyshine]

Sixteen Strings Ago

Epoch Book

•*⁀➷pairing: chanyeol x fem reader

Theme: healthy dose of fluff, angst, nostalgic relationship, teenage (reader), unseen mixtape, married couple

Description: she was 16, love for music and passion. It was just an old music mixtape, but would it suddenly change everything between his love for her?

Playlist: unchained melody — the righteous brothers

Chapter 1: The Mixtape

The spring sunlight filtered softly through the gauzy curtains of your shared apartment, casting a golden hue on the hardwood floor. You were cleaning out the closet in the study something you and Chanyeol had been procrastinating for months.

Your fingers brushed against an old shoebox, tucked way at the back behind stacks of books and a dusty photo frame. You sat cross-legged, pulling it out with curiosity, your heart pausing for a beat when you saw your own handwriting on the lid.

Y/N – memories (cringe warning lol)

You opened it slowly. Inside were old polaroids, pressed flowers, a couple of ticket stubs… and a small USB drive taped to a folded piece of notebook paper. You stared at it, your fingers trembling slightly.

Just then, Chanyeol walked in, a mug of coffee in each hand. He raised an eyebrow when he saw you frozen in place.

"What’s that?" he asked, handing you your mug before sitting beside you.

You chuckled nervously. "A relic from my teenage drama era."

His curiosity doubled. "Oho? Now this I need to see."

You hesitated. “It’s a video… of a song I wrote when I was 16. I recorded it for… my ex. After we broke up.”

Chanyeol’s expression faltered for the briefest second before he gave you a gentle smile. “I still want to see it. That was your past. And hey your music always fascinates me.”

With a sigh, you plugged the USB into your laptop. The screen lit up, and there you were 16, sitting on your bed, cradling your acoustic guitar, eyes red from crying but determined. The room behind you looked like a time capsule band posters, fairy lights, the whole moody teen aesthetic.

“Hey…” younger-you said shyly to the camera. “I wrote this after everything… I don’t know if you’ll ever listen, but I just had to get it out of me.”

The chords started softly, your fingers tentative but precise. The song was raw something about goodbye, about still hoping he finds happiness even if it’s not with you. Your voice cracked a bit near the end, but it was beautiful in a way only honesty can be.

Chanyeol didn’t say anything the whole time. When the video ended, the room was quiet.

You turned to him. “You okay?”

He blinked a few times. “Yeah… I just… I can’t believe that was you.”

“In a good way or a bad way?” you teased, trying to mask the vulnerability crawling up your spine.

“In the kind of way where I’m proud. Of the girl you were, and the woman you’ve become.” He reached for your hand. “You’ve always had music in your soul, Y/N. Even then. Even when it hurt.”

You looked down, heart swelling. “I was scared you'd feel weird. That it was too personal.”

“I want to know every version of you,” he said softly, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. “Even the 16-year-old who cried over a guy that wasn’t me. Because I get to love you now.”

You leaned into him, letting his arms wrap around you.

“Still… kinda weird though,” he added, grinning. “I’m totally gonna write a diss track to that guy.”

You laughed against his chest. “You’re ridiculous.”

“Ridiculously in love with you,” he replied without missing a beat.

And in that quiet, golden-lit afternoon, surrounded by dust and memories, you realized that some pasts aren’t meant to haunt they’re just stepping stones to the present. And in this present, you were exactly where you were meant to be.

━━━━⊱⋆⊰━━━━

Chapter 2: Duet of Us

It had been three days since you and Chanyeol watched the old mixtape the song you wrote at 16, raw and honest, poured out for a boy who no longer mattered. But the emotions in the lyrics still clung to you like gentle ghosts.

Chanyeol had been quiet about it since then, unusually contemplative, always humming something under his breath when you passed by the living room or caught him fiddling with his guitar.

So when he texted you from two rooms away “Come to the studio. Bring tea. No questions.”you knew something was up.

You padded in with a mug of chamomile, and paused at the door. The little home studio you both had built was lit with warm ambient lights. Chanyeol sat at the keyboard, guitar slung across his shoulder, headphones tilted back on his head.

“You look suspicious,” you said.

He turned, his eyes lit up like a kid about to show off his science project. “Okay. So… I may have done a thing.”

You raised an eyebrow. “A thing?”

He stood, grabbed your hand, and led you to the second mic. “I listened to that song again alone. And I couldn’t stop thinking about it. Not just the heartbreak, but how deeply it came from you. And I kept wondering…”

“…Wondering?” you echoed, heart racing a little.

“What would it sound like now if we told the rest of that story together?”

Your eyes widened as he handed you a lyric sheet. Your words were there but woven into them were new ones. His. Like a response written in harmony, not just melody.

You scanned the lines:

Yours (then):

"I loved you in silence, even when you walked away / I wrote your name in the chords I couldn't play."

His (now):

"But I heard that silence, even from far away / And I’ve been writing back with every note I play."

Your throat caught. “Chanyeol…”

“I know it was a song for someone else,” he said gently. “But it’s also part of who you are. And now… maybe we can make it ours. Just one take. What do you say?”

You nodded, stepping to the mic. “Let’s finish the story.”

The track began same guitar intro, just like 16-year-old you played it. But this time, your voice was steadier, stronger, wrapped in warmth. And then Chanyeol’s voice came in rich, deep, like honey and rain. A perfect contrast. A perfect harmony.

You sang your verses, he sang his. And then unexpectedly he layered in new chords for a bridge

"You were meant to break to become whole / And I was waiting at the end of that road / Now here we are, no more shadows / Just light from the past that helped us grow."

The final chorus hit different now. Not about heartbreak but healing. The song was no longer a goodbye. It was a conversation across time. Between who you were and who you are. Between your past and your forever.

When you finished, there was a silence in the room that felt sacred.

You turned to him, and without a word, he cupped your face and kissed you soft, slow, like a promise.

“I love you,” you whispered.

“I love every version of you,” he murmured. “Even the one that wrote sad songs for other people. Because in the end, every note led you here. To me.”

━━━━⊱⋆⊰━━━━

Chapter 3: The Face from the Song

It had started as a chill afternoon.

You and Chanyeol had just finished a cozy live acoustic set at a local indie café something you both did once in a while to stay grounded, to stay in love with music. You hadn’t even planned to sing the duet you’d written together from your old 16-year-old mixtape… but the moment felt right.

The café had been warm with soft lights and smiling faces, and when you sang that final line "Every note I wrote was leading me home..."the small crowd erupted into heartfelt applause.

You felt weightless.

Until you walked outside.

And saw him.

He was standing near the edge of the sidewalk, half-hidden beneath the awning of the neighboring bookstore, hands in his pockets. His hair was shorter now, face more mature, but those eyes they were exactly the same. And they were staring straight at you.

You froze.

Chanyeol was beside you, slipping his hand into yours as he followed your gaze.

The stranger stepped forward. “Y/N?”

You swallowed. “...Hey.”

“Wow,” he said with a stunned smile, “I thought I was hearing things in there. But then you started singing that song, and—” He shook his head like he was still catching up to reality. “You really kept it.”

Chanyeol shifted subtly closer, protective but not hostile. You gave his hand a squeeze.

Your ex looked between the two of you. “That song… it was the one you sent me, wasn’t it? When we… ended.”

You nodded slowly. “Yeah. It was.”

“I never deleted it,” he said, softer now. “I used to listen to it whenever I missed you. I didn’t think I’d ever hear it again let alone live.”

Chanyeol finally spoke, voice calm but laced with quiet pride. “She didn’t just sing it again. We re-wrote it. Together.”

Your ex blinked, eyes darting between you and Chanyeol. “You two are…”

“Married,” you confirmed with a small smile.

He looked like he wasn’t sure whether to smile or look wistful. “You were always going to end up with someone musical. I guess I was just your... prelude.”

That got a quiet laugh out of you. “Maybe. But I don’t regret writing it. Or where it led me.”

Chanyeol squeezed your hand. “Neither do I.”

There was a long pause.

“I’m happy for you,” your ex finally said. “That song... it helped me grow up too. Even if it hurt.”

“Thank you,” you said genuinely. “For being part of my story.”

He nodded, then stepped back. “Well… take care, Y/N. And you too, man. Take care of her.”

“I will,” Chanyeol said without hesitation.

As your ex turned and disappeared down the street, you let out a breath you didn’t know you’d been holding. Chanyeol looked down at you, his eyes soft.

“You okay?”

You nodded. “Yeah. That was… closure. Unexpected, but kind.”

He kissed your forehead gently. “He was part of the song. But I’m the one you get to write the ending with.”

You leaned into him. “Damn right.”

━━━━⊱⋆⊰━━━━

Chapter 4: The End of That Chapter

The night after running into your ex had been quiet. Too quiet.

Chanyeol could feel the weight you were carrying. You’d seemed fine, even happy in a way. But as you both lay in bed, the usual hum of contentment between you two had faded into a stillness that wasn’t quite like the peaceful silence you shared on most nights.

Chanyeol rolled over, propping himself up on one elbow to study your face in the dim light. You were staring at the ceiling, your fingers lightly tracing patterns in the sheets.

“Y/N,” he began softly, “do you want to talk about it?”

You blinked, a small smile playing on your lips, but it was a tired smile. “Talk about what?”

“The… past. With him. You don’t have to, of course,” he quickly added. “But I know you well enough to tell when something’s still lingering in your heart. And after seeing him tonight…” He hesitated for a moment, then gently added, “I guess I just want to understand it better. The way it ended. So I can understand you better.”

You sighed deeply, taking a moment before turning to meet his eyes, searching for the right words. “I guess I never really talked about it much. Not like this. I just kind of… moved on.”

He reached out and gently pulled you closer, resting his chin on your head. “You don’t have to explain everything, but I want to hear your version. How did you two end?”

You swallowed, thinking back to the days when everything felt like it was falling apart. “It was right before I left for college. We were together for almost three years. Everyone thought we were perfect me included. But after we both got busy, it felt like we were living separate lives. He became someone I didn’t recognize anymore. And I wasn’t who I used to be either.”

You paused, feeling the sting of old memories. “I wrote that song because I didn’t know how to say goodbye. I kept waiting for us to fix it, for him to change, for us to be what we once were. But he didn’t. And neither did I. We grew apart, and… it just ended.”

Chanyeol held you a little tighter, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. “I can’t imagine how hard that was. But you were so strong, Y/N. You let go, even when you still cared.”

“I had to,” you murmured. “I think deep down, I knew we were never meant to last. We were just two kids holding on to something we couldn’t quite let go of. He was a good person, but... we were never right for each other.”

“And now?” Chanyeol asked quietly, his thumb brushing over the back of your hand.

“Now…” You smiled softly, looking up at him. “Now, I’m exactly where I’m supposed to be. With you.”

He smiled back, his eyes softening. “I’m glad you found me.”

“I’m glad you found me, too,” you replied, tracing the outline of his jawline gently.

There was a long pause as Chanyeol lay back, staring up at the ceiling. You could tell he was still processing the conversation, still piecing together parts of your past to understand the depth of who you were. But he never once let go of your hand, never once made you feel anything less than loved.

And that, in itself, was all you ever needed.

“I guess in the end,” he said after a while, “the song became a part of your story. But I’m the one who gets to write the next chapters. We both are.”

You chuckled softly, turning to face him fully. “That sounds like the start of something.”

He winked at you, his hand brushing a stray lock of hair behind your ear. “The best part, actually.”

You grinned, kissing him on the lips. “The best part, indeed.”

━━━━⊱⋆⊰━━━━

Chapter 5: The Music of Us

The night stretched on in soft, quiet comfort. The gentle hum of the city outside your window felt distant compared to the peace inside your home. The two of you were still in the studio, lingering after a long day. Chanyeol was sitting on the edge of the couch, tuning his guitar absentmindedly, while you worked on putting away some equipment.

But there was something about the stillness of the moment that made it feel more intimate than anything that had happened all evening. Maybe it was the way Chanyeol kept glancing at you when he thought you weren’t looking, or the way your fingers trembled slightly when you caught him watching you. There was an unspoken energy between you, one that hadn’t been there before. It was something new, something warm and full of possibility.

You finished tidying up, moving closer to him. “You’ve been playing that guitar for hours. You never get tired of it, do you?”

He smirked. “What can I say? Music’s in my blood.” He looked at you, his eyes softening. “But it’s not just the music. It’s you, too. Being with you… in this space, making something together. It’s everything.”

You paused, heart fluttering at his words. You couldn’t help but smile, walking over and sitting beside him. “It’s everything,” you repeated softly, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear. “Even when we’re not singing, or making something… I feel like we’re always creating.”

Chanyeol’s eyes searched yours, his gaze intense yet full of warmth. “It’s because we’re always together, Y/N. That’s the real song. It’s not about the music we make it’s about us making it. You and me. Every day.”

Your breath caught in your throat as he slowly set his guitar aside, turning his full attention to you. The air between you two seemed to thicken, each word he spoke drawing you closer, each glance making your heart race faster.

“I want you, Y/N,” Chanyeol said, his voice low, almost a whisper, like the words were a secret shared only between the two of you.

You felt your pulse quicken, the vulnerability of the moment mixing with the intense affection you had for him. Your body was already moving toward him, your lips brushing against his in a soft kiss, slow but filled with everything unsaid.

He pulled you closer, his hands gentle but sure as they cupped your face, deepening the kiss. His lips moved with purpose, like he was trying to tell you something with each kiss, each touch.

“I love you,” he whispered between kisses, “more than I ever thought I could.”

“I love you, too,” you breathed, your hands finding their way into his hair, tugging him even closer. You could feel the heat of his body against yours, the rhythm of his heartbeat syncing with yours.

The world outside the studio faded into nothing. There was only the two of you, the music, and the weight of everything that had led you to this moment. You could feel the years of struggle, of growth, of past pains melting away with every touch, every kiss. It was as if the music had finally woven the two of you into one, creating something so deeply intertwined that nothing could ever tear it apart.

“Chanyeol…” Your voice was barely a whisper as you looked up at him, your chest rising and falling with the intensity of the moment. “I need you.”

His gaze softened, his lips curving into a gentle smile. “I’m here. Always.”

Slowly, he stood, pulling you up with him. His hands didn’t leave your body as he moved you toward the couch, and you followed willingly, your body yearning for the closeness, for the connection only he could offer.

The kiss didn’t break as he laid you back against the cushions, his lips trailing down your neck, each touch sending shivers down your spine. His hands were soft but sure as they explored the curve of your waist, the familiar warmth of his touch making your heart flutter with something that felt like home.

“You’re everything I’ve ever wanted, Y/N,” he murmured against your skin, his voice thick with desire. “I can’t get enough of you.”

You could barely breathe as he hovered above you, his lips finding yours once again, and you couldn’t help but give yourself completely to him, to the love you had built together. The music of your connection played louder now than any song you’d ever written.

It wasn’t just about the music, or the song you once wrote for someone else it was about the harmony between you, Chanyeol, and the life you were building together. The past had its place, but the future? That was where you and he truly belonged.

And as you lost yourself in his touch, in the warmth of his embrace, you knew that this was just the beginning of a beautiful, endless song.

━━━━⊱⋆⊰━━━━

Chapter 6: The Sound of Forever"

The first rays of sunlight peeked through the curtains, casting a soft glow across the room. You stirred, the warmth of Chanyeol’s body pressed against yours comforting you in ways you never expected. His arm was draped over you, his fingers lightly tracing the skin of your back as he slept, his breathing slow and steady.

You smiled to yourself, savoring the moment of quiet peace. Everything felt perfectly right, like the world outside could keep spinning, but here, in this little bubble of warmth, nothing else mattered. The echoes of last night of every kiss, every whispered word still lingered in the air between you.

You shifted slightly, your fingers brushing against the edge of his hand. He stirred, groaning softly, and then blinked up at you with sleepy eyes.

“Morning,” he murmured, his voice rough with sleep, but warm and familiar.

“Morning,” you replied, resting your head on his chest. You could feel the steady thrum of his heartbeat beneath your ear, the rhythm grounding you.

He smiled lazily, his hand slipping into your hair, fingers gently tugging you closer. “I think last night might have been the best night of my life.”

You laughed softly, looking up at him. “Because of…?”

Chanyeol raised an eyebrow playfully. “You, me, the music, the way we finally got our song right. It was perfect.” He kissed the top of your head before his voice lowered. “But mostly… because I got to love you in every way possible.”

Your heart skipped a beat, his words making you feel more cherished than you ever thought possible. “I’m glad you’re in my life,” you whispered, your fingers brushing against his chest, tracing the outline of his tattoos. “You make everything feel better. Like I’m exactly where I’m supposed to be.”

He kissed you then, soft and lingering, a kiss that told you everything you needed to know about how he felt. His lips were warm and reassuring, as if telling you that he would always be there through everything.

As the kiss broke, you both lay there in a peaceful silence, your fingers intertwined. Chanyeol’s thumb traced over the back of your hand, the soft caress a simple but meaningful gesture.

You looked at him again, your voice quieter this time. “Chanyeol, do you ever wonder… what would have happened if we never met?”

He didn’t hesitate. “No. I don’t need to wonder. Because we did meet. And I can’t imagine any other version of my life that would have been better than this one. With you.”

Your heart swelled, the words echoing through you, making every part of you ache with love for him. He was your present, your future your forever.

“I’m glad we met,” you said softly. “Even if it took me a while to find my way to you.”

“I would’ve waited forever for you,” Chanyeol replied, his voice filled with the depth of his love. “And I’m glad we’ve made something beautiful together. All the music, all the moments everything. You’re my melody, Y/N. My song.”

You smiled, a tear slipping down your cheek, though it was a tear of joy. “And you’re my harmony.”

Chanyeol kissed you again, this time a little more deeply, as if sealing that promise of music, love, and everything in between.

A few hours later, you both made your way into the kitchen, wrapped in the comfort of your shared space. As you moved through the motions of making breakfast together, you couldn’t shake the feeling that everything had shifted in the best possible way.

Chanyeol was humming the song you two had written together, the one that started as a relic from your past and ended as a testament to your present and future. It had become more than just a song it had become your song.

As you slid a cup of coffee over to him, you smiled softly. “You know, I think we should take this song to the next level.”

Chanyeol raised an eyebrow, his lips curling into a smile. “Oh? What do you mean?”

“Let’s record it. Professionally. And put it out there. For everyone to hear.” You looked at him, your gaze steady. “I want to share this with the world. Share us. I think… I think our love is meant to be heard.”

His eyes softened. “You sure?”

You nodded. “More than ever.”

A Few Weeks Later

The song, “The Sound of Forever”, was officially released an anthem not just of love but of growth, of rediscovery. It wasn’t just a song; it was your song, the one that had evolved from a painful goodbye into a beautiful love letter.

The response was overwhelming. People resonated with the raw emotion in the lyrics and the way the melody seemed to blend your voices perfectly. The duet had gone viral, with fans praising how your voices complemented each other so seamlessly. But for you, it wasn’t about the recognition it was about the love it represented.

Chanyeol stood next to you as you read through the comments, his arm wrapped around your shoulders.

“This… is bigger than I expected,” he said, glancing at you with a playful grin. “Do you think we should start a band?”

You laughed, leaning into him. “Maybe one day. But for now, I’m happy just being us.”

He pressed a kiss to your temple. “Yeah. Me too. Because nothing beats this.”

As the song continued to play in the background, you knew one thing for certain: the music you had created together was only the beginning. And every day after this would be just another verse in the song of forever that you and Chanyeol were destined to write.

━━━━⊱⋆⊰━━━━

Chapter 7: The First Song

The night had fallen softly around you both, the house bathed in the warm, golden light of a lamp in the corner. Chanyeol was curled up next to you on the couch, his head resting on your shoulder, while you flicked through an old photo album. The evening was simple, a calm moment to unwind from everything the music, the fans, the constant busyness of life.

You came across a picture of yourself and your best friend from years ago, and for some reason, it made you smile. You held the photo out to Chanyeol, who leaned over to see it.

“Who’s this?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.

You laughed softly. “My best friend from high school. We were inseparable. I think we both secretly wanted to be in a band but were too shy to do it on our own.”

Chanyeol grinned. “So this was before the world knew you could sing?”

“Definitely,” you replied, chuckling. “I was terrible back then. I would hide my guitar in my room whenever anyone came over, especially guys.”

“Oh? Hiding your talents, huh?” he teased, his finger brushing over the album’s edge. “So… what did happen to make you finally pick up the guitar and sing for real?”

You sighed, settling deeper into the couch, your mind drifting back to a time that felt so far away. “It was the summer before I left for college,” you said softly. “I’d been dating someone at the time my ex. He was sweet, but we were too different. And I guess... I realized I wasn’t who I wanted to be with him anymore. I wrote that song for him because I couldn’t find the words to say it out loud. The breakup... it was messy. But that song? It was my way of letting go. I just never thought I'd sing it for anyone else.”

Chanyeol’s gaze softened, his hand coming to rest on yours. “What was he like? Your ex?”

You paused, reflecting on the past with a bittersweet smile. “He was great. Smart, driven, kind. But... we just weren’t in sync anymore. He was so focused on his future, and I was just... lost in my own head, trying to figure out who I was. We tried to make it work, but sometimes love isn’t enough when the connection fades.”

Chanyeol nodded quietly, his thumb gently tracing circles on the back of your hand. “I get it. I really do. It’s hard to be with someone when you’re not even sure who you are yet.”

You looked down at your fingers, thinking about those years. “That’s the thing, Chanyeol. I didn’t even know who I was until I picked up that guitar and started writing my own songs. It felt like the music was the only thing that understood me, that could express everything I couldn’t say. And then... well, I met you.”

He smiled, his hand gently squeezing yours. “And I’m glad you did.”

You looked at him, your heart swelling. “I still remember the first time we met, actually.”

“Oh, this is a good one,” Chanyeol said, leaning back a little. “You were the one who walked right into my practice room and looked at me like I was a bug. I’m pretty sure you didn’t even notice my band at first.”

You laughed, rolling your eyes. “Okay, to be fair, you guys were in the middle of playing an awful cover of ‘Sweet Child O’ Mine.’ You couldn’t even hit the high notes. I had to leave.”

Chanyeol grinned, his eyes twinkling with mischief. “Hey, that’s a classic! I’ll have you know, I totally hit those notes... once.”

You chuckled. “Well, if you say so. But then, when I came back the next week to listen to you all again, you were so much better. And you...” You paused, remembering that day. “You were sitting there, by the piano, with that goofy grin on your face when I walked in. I didn’t even realize it was you until you started talking.”

He looked at you, amused. “I remember thinking, ‘Wow, she’s not even looking at me, she’s so focused on my bandmates.’ But when you smiled at me? I swear I thought my heart stopped for a second.”

You shook your head with a soft smile. “I don’t even know why I came back after that first disaster. But something about you... there was this energy, this pull. You were different.”

Chanyeol’s expression softened, his fingers gently lifting your chin so you were looking directly at him. “I think I knew the moment I saw you. You were this beautiful, creative, determined person who had a spark in her eyes. And all I wanted was to know more. I knew we’d make music together.”

You blinked back a wave of emotion, your chest tight with the memories. “And we did. We’ve made so much music together. But, Chanyeol… what if we hadn’t met? What if I had never walked into that practice room?”

He smiled, the corners of his mouth curving upward. “It wouldn’t have mattered. Because it was always going to be us. Our paths were meant to cross. The universe just needed a little nudge to bring us together.”

You grinned, leaning into him, and his arms instinctively wrapped around you, pulling you close. “I guess so,” you whispered, breathing in the scent of him. “And now, here we are. Together.”

He kissed the top of your head softly, his voice barely above a whisper. “Together. Always.”

And for the first time in a long time, you felt complete. The past, with all its brokenness, had led you to this place. To him. And you wouldn’t change a thing.

━━━━⊱⋆⊰━━━━

Chapter 8: Final Chapter, Echoes of the Past

The glow of the moonlight filtered through the curtains, casting long shadows across the room as you and Chanyeol lingered on the couch. The air was warm, comfortable, wrapped in the kind of quiet that comes with being completely at ease with one another.

Chanyeol shifted slightly, adjusting his position so that he was leaning against the armrest, his fingers still tangled with yours. His voice broke the silence as he spoke in a soft, thoughtful tone.

"Do you ever wonder about the what ifs?" he asked, his eyes locking onto yours. "Like, if things had gone differently, if we’d never met… would we have turned out the same? Would we be who we are now?"

You looked at him, tracing the outline of his hand with your fingers as you thought back. "I used to wonder about that all the time. Before we were together, I couldn’t stop thinking about the 'what ifs' in my life. The what ifs of the past, the choices I’d made, the paths I didn’t take. But now… now I don’t think about it much."

Chanyeol tilted his head, his curiosity piqued. "Why?"

You smiled softly, the memories beginning to surface like a quiet stream. "Because the what ifs don’t matter anymore. It’s the here and now that counts. And if I’m being honest... if I didn’t go through all of that, I wouldn’t be the person I am today. I wouldn’t have met you."

Chanyeol's expression softened, his gaze growing tender. "You’ve always been strong, Y/N. Even when you didn’t realize it. It’s one of the first things I noticed about you."

You chuckled lightly, remembering the way you first saw Chanyeol. “I remember the first time I noticed you too. You were so… you. I didn’t know how to take you at first. You were so different from everyone I’d met.”

He laughed, leaning forward slightly, his eyes mischievous. “Different how?”

“Well,” you said, narrowing your eyes playfully, “you looked like you didn’t take anything seriously. You had that careless energy, like you were always half in the clouds and half present at the same time. I couldn’t tell if you were a genius or completely out of touch.”

Chanyeol grinned, clearly pleased with the description. “And now?”

“Now?” You paused for a moment, your lips curling into a smile. “Now I think you’re a genius who’s also a little out of touch. But in the best way possible.”

He chuckled and leaned back again, his fingers absently brushing through your hair as he grew reflective. “I was so nervous around you when we first met. You probably didn’t know, but I was.” His voice was soft as he continued, almost like he was unraveling a part of himself he’d kept hidden. “I was afraid you’d think I was just some dumb guy in a band who couldn’t even talk to a girl properly.”

You turned to him, your heart softening at his words. "You? Nervous?"

He nodded, a faint blush creeping over his cheeks. “Yeah. I didn’t know how to approach you. You were so different from anyone I had ever met. You weren’t fawning over us, the way most girls did. You didn’t even look at me the way they did. I didn’t know if I should be worried or if you just didn’t care."

You laughed softly, recalling the memory. “I didn’t care. Not at first, anyway. I was just... lost in my own world. I had no interest in being distracted by some guy in a band. I had enough going on with my own life.”

Chanyeol’s smile deepened as he gazed at you. “That’s what I liked about you, though. You didn’t look at me the way others did. You looked at me like I was just another person. You weren’t impressed by what I did or who I was. And that made me want to impress you.”

You paused, a wave of warmth flowing through you at his words. "But... did you ever think we’d end up here? Together?"

He shook his head, the smile never leaving his lips. “Honestly? No. I didn’t think I was even your type. But I knew I wanted to get to know you. I had to.”

You leaned back into the couch, looking up at the ceiling as memories flooded your mind. It wasn’t just the little moments with Chanyeol that made you realize your connection it was the unexpected ones, the memories that shaped who you became as a person before him. Those were the moments that now felt like a puzzle piece that fit perfectly with your life together.

“Do you remember that one night, when we went to that tiny music bar?” you asked, your voice soft as you recalled the memory. “The night we played our first song together. You were so nervous. It’s hard to imagine now, isn’t it?”

Chanyeol laughed quietly, leaning his head back as he recalled it. “Yeah, I was terrified. I kept worrying about whether we’d sound good. I wasn’t sure if we were ready. But you just told me to trust the music.”

You smiled at the memory of that night the way you had taken the lead, even when you were both nervous. You had never felt more in sync with someone before. “And you were amazing,” you said, your voice full of admiration. “You played so effortlessly, like you’d been waiting for that moment. It felt like the whole world stopped when we sang.”

Chanyeol's gaze softened, and for a moment, the world outside your cozy little living room seemed to vanish. “I don’t think I ever told you this, but when we were singing that night, I felt something. Like… like everything finally made sense. Like I was home with you.”

Your heart fluttered at his words, and the emotion in his voice made the room feel smaller, warmer, like it was just the two of you. “I felt the same way. Like I had finally found something that made me feel alive.”

His hand found yours again, and he squeezed it gently. “You and me, Y/N, we’ve always been meant to create something special. I just didn’t know how deep that connection would go.”

You glanced at him, his eyes full of sincerity, and something clicked in that moment a realization of how far you had come from that first song, from that first shy interaction.

“I think we’ve always known,” you whispered. “Maybe we didn’t say it then, but we knew. It was just a matter of time.”

The night stretched on, but now the silence felt peaceful, filled with understanding. You leaned into him, feeling the warmth of his presence, knowing that every moment, every memory, led you to where you were meant to be together.

[loeyshine]

Ignition │Final

Epoch Book

•*⁀➷pairing: chanyeol x fem reader

Theme: transformers au, car lovers, teenage romance, high school drama, autobot world, "a driver don't pick the cars. Cars pick the driver"

Description: how can girls love cars? Well being by your side pranced us to view cybertron with our formed fondness.

Playlist: i don't think i love you - hoobastank

Chapter 23:

It was way past midnight.

The world outside was sleeping, but my mind was spinning. The memory flash. Solara. The battlefield. The whispers that had started echoing in the back of my head… all of it felt like a ticking clock I couldn’t ignore anymore.

I stared at my phone on the nightstand. No new messages.

Chanyeol would freak if I told him what I was about to do.

But that’s exactly why I didn’t.

“Bee?” I whispered into the shadows as I slipped out my window, landing in the soft grass outside my house.

The yellow Camaro's headlights flashed once.

“Let’s go.”

His door opened automatically, and I slid in. As we pulled into the street, the hum of his engine was soft and steady like he was holding his breath too.

“Where are we headed?” I asked, tying my hoodie tighter around me.

Bee flickered the dashboard screen and brought up a map of the city outskirts one of the old industrial zones long since abandoned.

Then, he beeped softly and played a soundbite from an old sci-fi movie:

┃ “There’s something down there… waiting.”

We hit the freeway, cutting through the night like a yellow blur. There was something peaceful about driving like this with Bee. Just us, no distractions, no expectations.

Just this mission.

Just this pull in my chest guiding us.

“You felt it too, right?” I asked, resting my hand gently on the steering wheel, even though Bee didn’t need help. “That… thing. Like someone calling.”

Bee beeped in agreement, then played a low, mysterious tone through the speakers. It made the hair on my arms stand.

“Something’s waking up,” I murmured. “Something connected to her.”

We reached the old factories around 2:13AM. The buildings stood like silent giants, forgotten and rusted out. Bee’s headlights cut through the fog as we rolled into the warehouse district, searching…

Then suddenly he slammed on the brakes.

“What is it?” I whispered, heart racing.

Bee revved once, scanning the area with his internal sensors. The ground beneath us vibrated subtly… like something alive was below the concrete.

He projected a scan.

There.

A Cybertronian life signal. Dormant. Buried.

I jumped out and knelt down, brushing dust and dirt off a long-forgotten maintenance hatch.

Bee beeped twice, warning me.

“I know,” I said quietly, “but we have to look. Before they do.”

I reached out about to unlock it when Bee suddenly pushed me back with the car door, protective and urgent.

┃ “Don’t.” he said, through an old war film line.

┃ “We’re not alone.”

Footsteps.

Faint but fast.

Someone else was there.

Bee dimmed his lights and backed into the shadows, keeping me low, hidden. My heart thundered in my chest as I peeked through the slits in the metal.

Two silhouettes. Human. Armed.

I grabbed Bee’s side mirror and whispered, “We have to go. Now.”

We slipped away, engines low, tires silent.

As we drove back toward the edge of the city, I finally exhaled.

Bee beeped at me worried, annoyed.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell Chanyeol,” I whispered. “But I needed to protect him.”

Bee didn’t answer.

But the soft classic love song that played after… said enough.

┃ “You’ll never walk alone…” 🎵

Back at my window, just before climbing in, I looked at Bee.

"Thank you," I whispered. "For trusting me."

He blinked his headlights once and revved softly.

And as I slipped back into bed, heart racing and head spinning…

I knew everything was changing.

Fast.

━━━━⊱⋆⊰━━━━

Chapter 24:

I hadn’t even made it halfway across the school parking lot when I heard my name.

“Y/N.”

The tone made me stop dead in my tracks.

I turned slowly, and there he was Chanyeol shoulder slouched under his hoodie, backpack hanging off one side, and that look on his face. The look that always meant: we need to talk.

Oh no.

He walked toward me, slow and purposeful, lips pressed into a thin line.

“You good?” I asked, already knowing I was so not good.

“I’m great,” he said dryly. “Especially after hearing from Bee that you snuck out last night to go investigate a buried Cybertronian signal without me.”

I winced.

“Okay, first of all… he told on me?”

“He didn’t mean to!” Chanyeol huffed, eyes narrowing. “He glitched and projected your last destination while we were checking his tire pressure. And then he froze mid-sentence and played a clip from Mission Impossible. So yeah I figured it out.”

I rubbed my temple. “It wasn’t supposed to be a big deal—”

“A buried Cybertronian is not a big deal?” he cut in, stepping closer. “Y/N, you could’ve been ambushed. What if Bee got hurt? What if you got hurt? And I wasn’t even there to—”

“I didn’t want you to get dragged into it,” I said, voice soft but steady. “You’ve already risked enough because of me.”

His jaw tensed, and for a moment, the fire behind his eyes flickered into something sadder.

“You don’t get it, do you?” he muttered. “I want to be dragged in. If it’s with you.”

I looked away, heart twisting, but he stepped into my line of vision again.

“I didn’t sign up to be your side character, Y/N. We’re partners. Or at least I thought we were.”

His voice cracked on that last word, and my stomach sank.

“I’m sorry,” I whispered, guilt crawling up my spine.

He let out a breath, running a hand through his messy brown hair. “I know you were trying to protect me. But don’t shut me out. Not again.”

“I won’t,” I promised. “Next time, you’ll be the first person I tell.”

His expression softened, but the edge in his voice lingered. “Damn right. And I’m driving.”

I laughed weakly. “You just want to show off Optimus.”

“And you just wanted a dramatic midnight Camaro ride,” he teased back, a little smile finally cracking his frown. “Guess we’re both reckless.”

He held out his pinky.

“Partners?”

I linked mine with his. “Always.”

Later that day…

Bee beeped innocently as we walked to his car mode.

Chanyeol gave him a look. “You’re lucky you’re cute.”

Bee played a clip of a puppy barking.

“Don’t push it,” Chanyeol muttered, trying not to smile.

━━━━⊱⋆⊰━━━━

Chapter 25:

It was supposed to be a chill Saturday.

Key word: supposed.

Chanyeol had convinced his parents he was “studying with a few friends,” which apparently included a 28-foot-tall alien robot leader who could transform into a massive semi-truck. Totally normal.

We were all holed up in an abandoned train yard Optimus had claimed as “temporary strategic cover.” Which, in human terms, meant: Autobots playing hide and seek while Chanyeol tried to figure out how to drive his new upgrade.

“Alright, alright,” Chanyeol muttered, climbing into Optimus’s driver seat with the most dramatic squint you’ve ever seen. “Let’s do this, big guy.”

Optimus rumbled in response, voice deep and regal:

┃ “Only if you are worthy, young warrior.”

“Worthy?! Bro, I’ve passed calculus, I’ve fought Decepticons, and I’ve seen Y/N parallel park. That’s peak trauma.”

“HEY!” you shouted through your laughter.

Bee beeped in your direction, playing a sassy movie quote:

┃ “She drives like she’s dodging missiles.”

You threw a rock at him. It bounced harmlessly off his door.

Meanwhile, Optimus was absolutely not ready for the chaos that was Chanyeol behind the wheel.

“Do not touch that—”

┃ *HONKKK!*

“—button.”

“Oh my god, was that the intergalactic horn?” Chanyeol cackled. “That sounded like Zeus sneezing.”

Bee played a fart noise.

“You did not.” You doubled over laughing as Bee started looping a remix of the horn-fart combo, causing Ironhide to grumble something about “kids these days” and Ratchet to mutter in binary like he was having a breakdown.

Optimus sighed so loudly it echoed.

“I am a Prime,” he said with deadpan dignity. “A warrior forged in the fires of Cybertron. I did not cross galaxies to be… a clown car.”

“Aw, come on,” Chanyeol said, patting the steering wheel. “You’re the coolest clown car ever. Like, I’d totally join a circus if you were the tent.”

Bee beeped a circus jingle.

Optimus audibly growled.

You were crying from laughter at this point, sitting on Bee’s hood while he wiggled his side mirrors like they were eyebrows. Chanyeol was now trying to high-five Optimus through the windshield (“Is this, like, an air-five situation or do I—”) while Mirage zipped by doing donuts for no reason except vibes.

“Is this what world-saving looks like?” you gasped between giggles.

Bee beeped and played a soundbite of someone yelling “chaos reigns!”

“Yep,” Chanyeol said, hanging halfway out the window. “And I wouldn’t trade it for anything.”

That moment. That one ridiculous, beautiful, bond-filled moment—

between bots and humans, pranks and power, laughter and loyalty

It was perfect.

Even if Optimus was now questioning every life choice he’d ever made.

━━━━⊱⋆⊰━━━━

Chapter 26:

It was late.

The kind of quiet night that made the sky feel endless stars scattered like confetti above the abandoned train yard, with only the soft hum of metal cooling and Bee’s radio playing a lo-fi track in the background.

Everyone had settled down. Mirage was asleep halfway transformed (somehow still snoring), Ironhide had taken up guard duty, and even Optimus had driven off to scout.

You were sitting on a toolbox, sipping soda, when Chanyeol tapped your shoulder.

“C’mere,” he said, eyes glittering even in the dim light.

“What? You finally mastered driving Optimus without almost launching into orbit?”

He rolled his eyes. “No, not that. Something else. Something I’ve been working on.”

You blinked. “Wait… what have you been—?”

He just smiled and grabbed your hand.

He led you to one of the garage bays tucked into the corner of the yard. There was a tarp draped over something large and blocky, the corners weighed down with old tires and tools. He paused, his fingers wrapped around the edge of the tarp, looking… nervous?

Chanyeol. Nervous. Around you?

“Okay,” he exhaled. “Don’t laugh.”

“Why would I laugh?”

He gave you a pointed look. “You laughed when I called a wrench ‘the twisty-turny metal thing.’”

You grinned. “It was adorable. Carry on.”

With a dramatic flourish, he yanked off the tarp.

Underneath it was… a car.

Well, your car. Or… kind of.

It was a sleek, customized race-style build that looked like it had your aesthetic stamped all over it shimmering black with pearlescent blue undertones, low to the ground, futuristic design, and somehow... elegant and fast all at once. The hood even had a little emblem engraved on it: your initials, intertwined with a stylized flame.

“I call it the ‘Midnight Ghost,’” he said sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck. “I’ve been building it with Torque and Bumblebee, kind of like… a tribute to you. Your style. Your speed. Your energy. Everything.”

You stared at it.

Then at him.

Then back at the car.

“Chanyeol…” you whispered, heart thudding. “You built this… for me?”

He nodded, biting his lip. “I know it’s not perfect, and I still gotta fix the steering calibration and maybe not let Mirage touch the paint again but yeah. I did. Because you’ve inspired me more than anything else ever has. And I just… I wanted to create something that made you feel seen.”

You were speechless.

And maybe a little teary.

You stepped forward, running your fingers along the hood. It purred under your touch definitely some Bee tech in there.

“You absolute dork,” you said softly.

“Hey—!”

You turned and wrapped your arms around him before he could finish. He froze for a second, then held you like you were the only thing keeping him grounded.

“I love it,” you whispered into his chest. “And I love you.”

You felt his heart do a triple backflip in his chest.

“…Y/N?”

“Yeah?”

“Can we take it for a ride? Just us?”

You grinned, already reaching for the keys he hadn’t realized you’d swiped from his pocket.

“I thought you’d never ask.”

━━━━⊱⋆⊰━━━━

Chapter 27:

The engine hummed to life, smoother than you expected, a deep growl that vibrated through your fingertips as you gripped the wheel. The “Midnight Ghost” was everything you could’ve imagined sleek, powerful, and built for the road. Chanyeol was already in the passenger seat, his grin a little too wide for someone who had just given you the car of your dreams.

“You ready?” he asked, voice a little breathless.

You shot him a look as you backed the car out, the city lights reflecting off the shiny surface. “Are you kidding? I’ve been ready.”

The drive was smooth, the engine purring with every push of the pedal, the world outside the car blurring in a mix of neon lights and dark streets. Chanyeol let out a soft sigh beside you.

“I think you just created the perfect car. Seriously, it’s like… it was made for you.”

You grinned, shifting into a faster gear. “It feels like it, doesn’t it?”

It was then, as you turned onto a secluded street near the outskirts of town, that the atmosphere shifted.

At first, it was just a flicker in the rearview mirror. A shadow. Then, headlights. A pair of them, bright, closing the distance with alarming speed.

Chanyeol frowned, his eyes narrowing as he glanced back. “Y/N, do you—?”

Before he could finish, the car behind you accelerated, pulling up alongside you in a flash. The engine roar was loud, aggressive a challenge.

You could feel the tension in the air, the hairs on the back of your neck standing up as you stared straight ahead, focusing on the road. The car beside you was black, sleek, but its aggressive modifications screamed danger. The driver was hidden behind tinted windows, but you could see the silhouette of someone grinning someone familiar.

“What the hell?!” Chanyeol leaned forward, his voice growing sharp. “Who the hell is this?”

“They want a race,” you said, your fingers tightening on the steering wheel. You weren’t new to this game. You’d raced before. But there was something different about this time, about the way the car seemed to sneak up on you, almost as if it had been waiting for this exact moment.

Chanyeol shot you a glance. “You know them?”

“I think I do.” You clicked your tongue, smirking. “But let’s find out.”

The car beside you revved its engine once more, and you shot Chanyeol a look.

“Ready for this?”

He grinned, his eyes alight with the same fire you saw in him during their last race. “Ready as I’ll ever be.”

You slammed your foot down on the pedal.

The “Midnight Ghost” rocketed forward, its turbocharged engine pushing you to speeds you could barely comprehend. The sound of the road was a rush, the wind cutting past you as the black car beside you shot ahead, gaining on you with surprising ease. But you weren’t just going to let it pass. You floored it, weaving between the turns, cutting corners with expertise.

The black car tried to outmaneuver you, but you had the upper hand until it took a hard left, taking you down an unfamiliar path. You didn’t hesitate. You followed, pushing the “Midnight Ghost” to its limits, your heart pounding with adrenaline. But just as you reached the final corner, the black car swerved out of sight.

You cursed under your breath, slowing the car down as you rounded the corner. “Where the hell did they go?”

Chanyeol looked just as confused, glancing around. “This feels… too easy. Why’d they bail so quick?”

That’s when you saw it.

Out of the shadows ahead, another set of headlights appeared. But this time, it wasn’t just one car it was two, pulling in from the other direction. The first car was the black one, and right behind it was a silver muscle car, sleek and powerful. The engines roared, but not in a playful way. They were here for something.

“Y/N, I think we’re being set up.” Chanyeol’s voice was low, a tinge of concern in it. “We need to get out of here.”

But it was too late.

The cars had surrounded you now like wolves closing in on their prey.

━━━━⊱⋆⊰━━━━

Chapter 28:

The two cars that surrounded you in the darkness weren’t just drivers with a thirst for speed.

They had purpose. Their engines growled, but there was an intensity behind it a warning, as if they knew something you didn’t. The silver muscle car revved, and the black one your earlier challenger slowed, positioning itself between you and the exit.

You could feel the hairs on the back of your neck prickle. This wasn’t just a random street race. Something about this felt planned.

You glanced over at Chanyeol, his brow furrowed with a mix of confusion and concern. “This is bad,” he muttered. “I don’t like this, Y/N. Not one bit.”

“Tell me about it,” you whispered back. You couldn’t shake the feeling that you were being watched like there were eyes in the shadows, waiting for the moment to strike.

Before you could react, the driver of the black car finally spoke through the loudspeakers, his voice distorted, cold, and calculative.

“Y/N. Chanyeol. I hope you’re ready for what’s coming.”

Your blood ran cold.

You recognized that voice. It wasn’t someone you knew personally, but it was unmistakably familiar.

“Who is that?” Chanyeol asked, his tone sharp with suspicion. “That voice… I’ve heard it before.”

But you weren’t listening. Your heart was racing as the recognition hit you like a sledgehammer.

“Chanyeol…” You turned to him, eyes wide. “It’s not a random racer. This is them.”

“Who?” he asked, trying to make sense of your panicked tone.

“The people who’ve been after the Autobots. The ones who’ve been tracking Bumblebee and the others.” Your hand gripped the wheel tightly as you glanced out the rearview mirror, watching the black car inch closer. “I think they’ve found us.”

Chanyeol’s face hardened, his protective instincts kicking in. “They’ve been tracking us for this long? How?”

Before you could explain further, the silver car ahead revved loudly, and the black car behind you suddenly lunged forward. A flash of bright headlights blinded you for a moment, and you swerved to the side, narrowly avoiding a collision.

A voice crackled over the loudspeakers again, this time with more menace. “This is your final warning. Give up the Autobots… or things will get much worse.”

You weren’t sure who was behind all of this, but you could feel the weight of their words. There was no mistake now. These weren’t just street racers looking for a thrill. These were people on a mission. A dangerous one.

The black car, still tailing you, swerved suddenly and came up alongside you. The windows of the vehicle rolled down, and for the first time, you caught a glimpse of the driver’s face.

It was a woman.

Her short, platinum blonde hair framed a sharp, calculating face. Her eyes were hidden behind dark sunglasses, but you could feel the coldness radiating from her. She grinned, but it wasn’t a friendly grin. It was one of someone who knew they had the upper hand.

“Ready to play, Y/N?” she called out through the open window, her voice tinged with amusement. “I’ve been waiting for you.”

Chanyeol’s eyes locked onto her, then narrowed. “Who are you?”

She didn’t answer right away. Instead, she leaned forward, watching you both with a mix of amusement and disdain. “Let’s just say… I’ve got some unfinished business with you two. And your friends.”

You felt a chill run through you. Unfinished business.That phrase was all too familiar, echoing in your mind.

“Who sent you?” you demanded, trying to steady your breathing.

Her grin widened. “That’s not important. What matters is what comes next.”

In the blink of an eye, she hit a button on the dashboard, and the silver car in front of you suddenly accelerated, cutting you off and forcing you to swerve hard to the right. You barely avoided crashing into the guardrails, the tires screaming in protest as you regained control.

The woman’s laugh rang through the air as she sped ahead.

“You can run, but you can’t hide, Y/N. You can’t hide from us.”

The silver car now in front of you swerved again, blocking the path, while the black car continued to chase from behind. It was clear now: this wasn’t just a game.

They were after you. And they were after Bumblebee.

And they had no intention of letting you go.

━━━━⊱⋆⊰━━━━

Chapter 29:

The roar of engines filled the air, a deafening growl that shook the ground beneath your feet. The woman in the black car continued to grin at you, her eyes reflecting an almost predatory satisfaction. You didn’t have much time to react. They were closing in. There was nowhere to run, nowhere to hide.

"Chanyeol, get ready!" you shouted, gripping the wheel with white-knuckled force. Your heart was pounding, adrenaline pumping through your veins. You glanced in the rearview mirror, eyes searching for any sign of hope.

And then, just as you were about to make another evasive maneuver, a familiar sound cut through the tension.

The unmistakable roar of an engine Bumblebee.

"Bumblebee!" You breathed a sigh of relief as the yellow Autobot sped around the corner, barreling down the street with a speed and agility only he could muster. He swerved between you and the pursuing black car, his form flashing like a blur of yellow and chrome.

But it wasn’t just Bumblebee. More headlights appeared, followed by the sound of heavy metal.

Optimus Prime.

Torque.

Mirage.

Tinker.

The Autobots had arrived in full force.

“Chanyeol, hold on!” you yelled, swerving to avoid a sudden strike from the black car. Bumblebee was in position now, blocking the road and shielding you with his frame, his engine roaring like a beast ready for a fight.

But the moment the Autobots arrived, you realized something that made your heart sink this wasn’t going to be as easy as it seemed.

The black car screeched to a halt in front of Bumblebee, and out of the car, the woman emerged. She pulled off her sunglasses, revealing her icy blue eyes. Her grin was still there, though now it was a little more dangerous.

“You brought them, huh?” she said, nodding at Bumblebee. “I didn’t think they’d actually come.”

“You don’t know anything about the Autobots, do you?” you shot back, your voice trembling with anger and fear. “You don’t know what you’re messing with.”

She chuckled. “I know exactly what I’m messing with. And now, so do you.”

The black car behind you revved its engine again, signaling that they were ready to make their move. But just as they lunged forward, Optimus Prime’s enormous figure stepped into the fray, blocking their path. His voice boomed with authority.

“Enough. This ends now.”

The street was filled with the deafening sound of engines, metal clashing, and the crackling of energy in the air. Bumblebee and the other Autobots formed a defensive perimeter, positioning themselves between you and the mysterious drivers.

But something was wrong. You could feel it.

This wasn’t just about racing.

This wasn’t some high-speed chase or even some random rivalry between drivers. This was a coordinated attack. And worse these people knew too much about the Autobots.

Chanyeol grabbed your arm, his face pale. “Y/N, we need to move. This is getting dangerous.”

Before you could respond, the woman in the black car smirked and hit a button on her dashboard. You could feel the ground rumble as a hidden compartment opened in the trunk of the black car. Emerging from it was something you hadn’t expected.

A new enemy.

A massive, dark figure an Autobot, but not one you recognized. Its body was a twisted version of what you’d seen in the Autobots. It stood tall, menacing, with black armor and red glowing eyes. It was a Decepticon a warrior, and it was ready to fight.

“No,” Optimus said, his voice heavy with regret. “Not him…”

The new enemy stepped forward, towering over the Autobots, its weapons charging. The woman in the black car called out to him, a cruel smile curling on her lips.

“I’d like you to meet Megatron. He’s an old friend of mine, and I think you’re going to enjoy the reunion.”

Your blood ran cold. Megatron.

You’d heard the name before, but never in a good context. He was a rogue Decepticon, one who had vanished from the battlefield years ago. No one knew where he’d gone, or why he’d disappeared. But now, he was back and he was here to finish what had been started.

“You brought him to our city,” Optimus growled, his voice dripping with anger. “You dare challenge us again?”

“I’m not just here to challenge you,” the woman said, stepping closer to Megatron, her voice full of venom. “I’m here to end you.”

Without warning, Megatron raised his arm, and a laser cannon materialized from his shoulder. The Autobots immediately reacted, jumping into position, but it was clear that this wasn’t going to be a simple fight. The tension was palpable, and you could feel the weight of the situation settling in.

This wasn’t just a race anymore. It was a battle for survival.

━━━━⊱⋆⊰━━━━

Chapter 30:

The air crackled with tension as Megatron, the rogue Decepticon, stood towering before the Autobots. His eyes glowed a menacing red, a stark contrast to the cool blue of Bumblebee’s optics. The street beneath you seemed to tremble as Megatron’s massive frame shifted, ready to strike.

You could feel it in your bones this wasn’t just a typical fight. This was personal.

The woman in the black car grinned. “It’s over, Autobots. Time to say goodbye.”

With a snap of her fingers, Megatron’s cannons whirred to life, the barrels charging with a deafening hum. Before anyone could react, the first blast fired, cutting through the air with a high-pitched shriek.

“Y/N, get down!” Chanyeol shouted, pulling you back as debris flew past you, smashing into the ground where you’d been standing just seconds before.

Bumblebee didn’t hesitate. He leapt into action, his engine roaring as he charged forward, weaving between blasts and smoke. Optimus Prime was right behind him, his massive frame taking on the brunt of Megatron’s attacks as he tried to protect you and Chanyeol.

“Stay close to me,” Optimus said, his voice firm. “We’ll hold them off. You need to get to safety.”

But it wasn’t that simple. The streets were becoming a battlefield. The black car that the woman had been driving her weapon sped around, releasing more Decepticon forces, each one more dangerous than the last. They transformed into sleek, deadly vehicles, joining the fray with all the grace and power of their creators.

And then, the worst possible thing happened.

Megatron slammed his fist down, creating a shockwave that sent Bumblebee stumbling backward. He struggled to regain his footing, but Megatron was relentless. He raised his weapon again, aiming directly at the yellow Autobot.

“No!” you screamed, your heart in your throat. You rushed forward without thinking, desperate to stop what was happening.

But before you could reach Bumblebee, Megatron fired.

Everything seemed to slow down in that moment. You could see the blast of energy rippling through the air, heading straight for Bumblebee. His frame shuddered under the impact, and the sound of metal cracking echoed through the night.

“Bumblebee!” you cried out.

The blast hit, sending Bumblebee crashing to the ground in a cloud of smoke and sparks. For a brief moment, there was silence. And then, the sound of his engine sputtering and struggling to restart filled the air.

Chanyeol was beside you in an instant, grabbing your arm. “We need to help him, Y/N!”

But you knew there was no time. The Decepticons were closing in, and they wouldn’t stop until they’d taken down every last one of the Autobots. Optimus Prime, Torque, Mirage and Tinker were still fighting fiercely, but it was clear that they were outnumbered.

“Bumblebee!” you yelled, running toward him. You could see the damage done to him, his frame bent and dented from the blast. He was struggling to stand, but he was still alive. Still fighting.

And that was enough.

You placed your hand gently on his side, your voice trembling with both fear and determination. “Come on, Bumblebee. We need you.”

There was a soft whir as his systems came online, and Bumblebee’s engine hummed weakly. His optics flickered, and then, slowly, he lifted his head.

“Y/N…” his voice crackled, his words rough but still there. “I’ll be fine. Just get to safety.”

“No, we’re not leaving you.” Your voice was firm. “We’re a team. You don’t leave anyone behind.”

Bumblebee’s optics softened, and he nodded, his engine revving slightly as he pushed himself back onto his feet. The sound of battle raged around you, but for that brief moment, it felt like time had stopped. You and Bumblebee were still standing.

“Chanyeol,” you said, turning to him. “We need to get out of here. The Autobots can’t hold them off much longer.”

But as you spoke, the black car sped forward again, aiming to strike. It was the woman, and this time, she wasn’t holding back. A blast of purple energy shot out, targeting the Autobots.

“Move!” Optimus roared, pushing you and Chanyeol to the side as he stepped forward, taking the full brunt of the attack. The force of the explosion rocked the ground beneath you.

You and Chanyeol stumbled, barely keeping your balance. The fight was becoming too intense, and you couldn’t keep up.

“Optimus!” you screamed, watching in horror as the leader of the Autobots was pushed back by the explosion. His frame was cracked, his systems malfunctioning, but he was still standing. Still fighting.

“We’re not going down like this,” Chanyeol muttered, his jaw clenched in determination.

“You’re right,” you said, wiping the sweat off your brow. “We’re not. We need to get to the garage. The Autobots need backup.”

Chanyeol nodded. He grabbed your hand, his eyes fierce with resolve. “Let’s go.”

As you both turned to run, the battle continued to rage behind you. The Autobots were giving everything they had, but it wasn’t enough. Onyx and the Decepticons were too strong, and the streets were becoming a war zone.

But you refused to give up. You wouldn’t let your friends your family lose.

Not like this.

“Bumblebee, stay with me!” you shouted, hoping your voice would reach him. “We’ll make it out of here. Together.”

And with that, you ran. You and Chanyeol, side by side, knowing that the battle wasn’t over. This was only the beginning.

━━━━⊱⋆⊰━━━━

Chapter 31:

The night had been long, and the battle was far from over. After narrowly escaping the chaos in the streets, you and Chanyeol found yourselves back at the Autobot hideout, all the Autobots gathered around, trying to catch their breath.

Optimus was still recovering from the attack, his systems slowly stabilizing but not enough to join the next fight. Bumblebee was also injured, but he was already back on his wheels, albeit with some noticeable dents and scrapes.

“Bumblebee, Optimus,” you said, your voice heavy with concern, “how long until you two are back to full strength?”

Optimus’s deep voice filled the room. “We will recover soon, Y/N. But it won’t be fast enough to stop what’s coming. We need a plan.”

“I’ve been trying to think of one,” Chanyeol added, pacing in front of the group. “But the Decepticons seem prepared for everything. Whoever’s behind them… they’re too powerful.”

Suddenly, the door to the hideout opened with a loud creak, and the last thing you expected to hear came through the air an engine roar. It was Bumblebee, but something was different about him.

He wasn’t the same confident Autobot from earlier. This time, he had a different aura, as if something had awakened inside of him.

“Y/N, Chanyeol…” Bumblebee’s voice was low and strained. “There’s something I need to tell you.”

You and Chanyeol exchanged a glance, stepping closer.

“What is it, Bee?” you asked, your voice full of worry.

“I… I remember something,” Bumblebee said slowly, his tone unusually serious. “Something that could change everything.”

Chanyeol and you both leaned in, curiosity piqued.

“I remember that woman the one leading the Decepticons. She’s not just some random enemy.” Bumblebee paused, his optics dimming for a moment, as if processing the weight of his own words. “She’s… connected to Cybertron. To the very origin of the Autobots.”

“What do you mean?” you asked, confused.

Bumblebee took a deep breath. “Her name... is Elysia. But she’s not like any Decepticon you’ve ever met. She’s not just a soldier she’s something much more dangerous. She was once a high-ranking scientist on Cybertron. A brilliant mind with a thirst for power, knowledge, and control.”

You and Chanyeol both blinked, the realization sinking in. A scientist? This wasn’t just an enemy who wanted to conquer. She had a history, a purpose that stretched far beyond the surface.

“What happened to her?” Chanyeol asked, his voice trembling with a mix of curiosity and dread.

Bumblebee’s tone grew darker. “Something went wrong during her experiments. She tried to unlock powers that were too dangerous powers that even Cybertron itself couldn’t control. She made a deal with the Decepticons, exchanging her knowledge for their resources. But there’s more… she was the one who helped create the Decepticon technology that’s been used to corrupt and control Autobots.”

Your heart sank as the weight of Bumblebee’s words hit. The woman who had been leading the Decepticons, the one who’d seemed like just another villain in the story, was far more complicated and far more dangerous than you’d ever imagined.

Elysia wasn’t just a threat. She was connected to the very heart of the war that had torn Cybertron apart.

“She’s been hunting down remnants of lost Cybertronian technology,” Bumblebee continued. “And she’s after something very specific. A powerful artifact that could alter the balance of the war forever. If she gets her hands on it…”

He didn’t need to finish the sentence. You could feel the weight of the danger looming over you all.

“Where is she now?” Chanyeol asked, his voice hardening with determination.

“She’s after the same artifact that’s hidden here on Earth. And it’s not just any artifact. It’s the key to unlocking the full potential of Cybertron’s lost technology,” Bumblebee explained. “She’s already found some pieces, but the final part is hidden in a place even she doesn’t know about.”

You felt a chill run down your spine. “Where is it? How can we stop her?”

Bumblebee turned to you, his optics glowing brighter with resolve. “We need to stop her before she unlocks it. And the only way to do that is to get ahead of her. We need to find the artifact before she does.”

“Where is it?” you asked again, your pulse quickening.

Bumblebee’s voice grew somber. “There’s a hidden base, a forgotten place deep underground where the artifact is kept. It’s a part of an old Cybertronian network that was abandoned long ago. The Autobots who came to Earth to protect it had hidden it away in the most unlikely place.”

You exchanged a glance with Chanyeol, both of you understanding the gravity of the situation.

“This is bigger than just us,” you said, your voice tight with urgency. “We need to get there first.”

Chanyeol stepped forward, his expression set with resolve. “Then let’s go. We can’t waste any more time.”

Bumblebee nodded. “We’ll need the others. It’s not just about racing there first. Elysia has already sent scouts and spies. The Decepticons will be waiting for us.”

And just like that, everything had shifted. The woman leading the Decepticons was no longer just an enemy. She was the key to everything. She held the fate of both Earth and Cybertron in her hands.

━━━━⊱⋆⊰━━━━

Chapter 32:

The hidden underground base was a labyrinth of rusted corridors and flickering lights, but nothing could slow down the Autobots, Chanyeol, and you. As Bumblebee, Optimus, and the others prepared for what could be the final confrontation with the Decepticons, you found yourself standing next to Chanyeol in the depths of the base, your heart pounding.

"Are you sure you're ready for this?" Chanyeol asked, his voice soft but filled with concern as he adjusted his gloves.

You nodded firmly, trying to mask the anxiety that gnawed at you. "We don’t have a choice. We have to stop her, Chanyeol. If we don’t, everything we know could be destroyed."

Chanyeol’s hand found yours, squeezing it gently. "We’re in this together. No matter what happens."

Bumblebee revved his engine behind you, his voice steady but urgent. "The Decepticons are close. Elysia is already here."

"Let’s do this," you said, pushing away the fluttering nerves in your stomach. You turned to Optimus, who had been silent for a while, and nodded. "We have one shot at this. We can’t fail."

Optimus gave you a solemn nod, and for the first time, his voice wasn’t just a commandmit was a reassurance. "We will not fail, Y/N. This is the moment where we put an end to this war. Together."

With that, the Autobots, Chanyeol, and you began moving toward the core of the base, where the artifact was said to be hidden. The atmosphere was thick with tension, every step forward feeling heavier than the last. And then, just as you rounded a corner, you saw her.

Elysia.

She stood at the center of a large, darkened chamber, the artifact glowing ominously behind her. Her Decepticon army surrounded her, but it was her presence that held your attention. She was more than just a leader. She was a force, a master of the very technology that had torn Cybertron apart.

"Ah, Y/N," she said, her voice smooth and mocking, "I knew you’d come for this. You were always too curious for your own good."

You stepped forward, your gaze locked on her, hands clenched into fists. "I won’t let you have it. Not after everything you’ve done."

Elysia’s lips curled into a cruel smile. "You think you can stop me? You're just a human, Y/N. You don't understand the power you're facing."

Before you could respond, a sharp, metallic screech filled the air as a group of Decepticons charged forward, ready to engage. Optimus and the others immediately moved into defensive positions, but you couldn’t take your eyes off Elysia.

She stepped closer, the air between you thick with the tension of a thousand unsaid words.

"You’ve always been so naïve," Elysia said. "You think you’re strong because of the Autobots, but you’re nothing without them."

With a sudden movement, she lunged at you, her hands glowing with an energy you couldn’t quite place. You barely had time to react before she sent you flying back with a powerful blast. You crashed into the wall, pain exploding through your body, but you gritted your teeth and stood back up.

"You can’t stop me, Y/N," Elysia taunted, her voice cutting through the chaos of the battle around you. "You’re weak. You’re just a pawn in their game."

You shook off the pain, your eyes flashing with determination. "I’m not a pawn. And I’m not weak."

With a burst of adrenaline, you charged forward, locking eyes with her once more. She barely flinched as you threw a punch, her hand catching your fist mid-air. But she underestimated your strength. You twisted out of her grip and kicked her back, causing her to stumble.

"Is that all you’ve got?" she sneered, rubbing her bruised side, her eyes flashing with anger. "Pathetic."

But you didn’t back down. You could feel the energy coursing through your veins as you called upon everything you had learned from the Autobots everything they had taught you. Your connection to Bumblebee, to Optimus, to all of them this was your strength. Not the technology. Not the Decepticons. Just your will to protect the people you loved.

"You won’t win," you said, stepping closer, your fists raised in a battle stance. "I’m stronger than you think."

Elysia snarled. "You’re still too weak to defeat me, Y/N."

She launched herself at you again, but this time, you were ready. You dodged, narrowly avoiding her energy blast, and closed the distance between you. The fight was intense every move was a life-or-death struggle but in that moment, you felt something shift. Something inside you clicked into place.

You took a deep breath, focused, and when she lunged at you again, you grabbed her wrist, twisting it in a way that made her cry out in pain. With a swift motion, you slammed her into the ground.

"You’re done," you said, your voice fierce.

Elysia’s eyes widened, shock and disbelief flooding her face. "Impossible... how...?"

But before she could retaliate, Optimus’s voice rang out, commanding and filled with authority.

"Enough, Elysia," Optimus said, his presence towering over both of you. "This war ends here."

The rest of the Autobots rushed in, securing the area as the Decepticons began retreating. Bumblebee revved his engine, while even Chanyeol stepped forward, his face flushed with relief and pride as he looked at you.

"Y/N," Chanyeol breathed, walking up to you, his hand resting gently on your shoulder. "You did it."

You exhaled, still catching your breath, the adrenaline finally wearing off. You glanced down at Elysia, who now lay defeated on the floor, her eyes full of rage but no longer with the power to stop you.

"It's over," you said, your voice low but full of conviction. "This is where the Decepticons fall."

━━━━⊱⋆⊰━━━━

Chapter 33:

The sky had never looked so calm.

For the first time in weeks, no engines screamed overhead, no threats lurked in the shadows, and the air didn’t hum with the tension of incoming war. Just a breeze. A soft wind brushing past the hill where you stood alone for a moment, gazing out over the city lights.

Behind you, the Autobot base was slowly coming back to life repair crews, human engineers, and bots working side by side. The war with Elysia was over. You had won. But it didn’t feel like victory yet.

“Thought I’d find you here,” came a familiar voice.

You turned slightly as Chanyeol approached, his hoodie pulled over his head, face tired but smiling. He joined you without a word, hands stuffed in his pockets, shoulder brushing yours.

For a while, neither of you spoke. The quiet between you wasn’t awkward anymore. It was just… healing.

“How’s Bumblebee?” you finally asked.

Chanyeol smiled softly. “He’s good. Still grumbling about being left out of the final takedown, though.”

You snorted. “He was literally throwing Decepticons like frisbees.”

“Yeah. And then claimed he pulled a muscle. I don’t even think he has muscles.”

That made you laugh. You needed that laugh. So did Chanyeol.

He glanced sideways at you, then down at your bandaged arm. “You okay? Like, really?”

You hesitated. “Physically? Getting there. Mentally? I… don’t know yet.”

He nodded like he understood. Because he did.

You turned toward him more fully. “You were so brave. You kept going, even when we were losing everything.”

Chanyeol looked away, his throat bobbing. “I was scared the whole time. Scared of losing you. Scared of losing myself in all this.”

“But you didn’t,” you said quietly. “You found strength. You protected people. You even built that insane upgrade with Torque that saved half of us.”

Chanyeol rubbed the back of his neck, bashful. “It almost fried me, though. You were so mad.”

“I was mad. But also… proud. You always protect what you love.”

His eyes softened, locking on yours. “That includes you. Always will.”

And just like that, the weight of everything the war, the fear, the pain lightened just a little.

You leaned into him, your head resting against his chest as he wrapped an arm around your shoulders. The wind ruffled your hair. The stars were coming out.

Behind you, Bumblebee pulled up quietly, headlights off, music volume just low enough not to disturb the moment. From nearby, Optimus and the rest of the Autobots stood in a loose circle, speaking in soft tones. Even they seemed more… human now. Tired. Changed.

Everyone had been scarred. Everyone had lost something. But they were still here.

“You think it’s really over?” you whispered.

Chanyeol’s voice was low. “I think… it’s the end of that battle. But not our story.”

You tilted your head. “Then what is this?”

He smiled. “This is the beginning of something new.”

And just like that, you knew he was right.

Because sometimes, after the fire, comes the rebuild.

And maybe just maybe that’s where the real story begins.

━━━━⊱⋆⊰━━━━

Chapter 34; Final Part

Returning to school felt… surreal.

After everything we’d been through the races, the secret missions, the world-saving war it was strange stepping back into squeaky hallways and homeroom chatter. But what hit everyone like a slap to the face was one very unexpected thing:

Park. Freaking. Chanyeol.

He walked through the school gates like some kind of K-drama lead. Jawline sharper. Hair styled with effortless perfection. That smirk? Weaponized. And his height?? Somehow he got taller again. How was that fair?

Girls stopped mid-sentence. Guys blinked in confusion. Teachers did double takes.

Someone dropped their coffee.

“Is that… Park Chanyeol?!” one girl gasped from behind me.

“I thought he was just the dorky guitar club guy!” another whispered.

“He looks like he walked off the cover of a racing manga,” a dude muttered.

I was leaning on my locker watching the chaos like a proud mom and a chaotic girlfriend combined.

He strolled toward me casually, slinging an arm around my shoulder like it was nothing. “Hey, babe.”

“You know you just gave half the school a collective identity crisis, right?” I said, grinning up at him.

He smirked, winking. “Good. I worked hard on it.”

Honestly, it showed. He looked like confidence on wheels. Literally. Because his ride to school?

Optimus Prime. In truck mode.Parked. In the teacher’s lot.

Bee, in his freshly repainted Camaro body, was already annoying the other cars by blasting Elton John remixes.

I swear Principal Kim nearly fainted.

That afternoon, we regrouped at Chanyeol’s house like old times.

“Remember,” he said, arms out as we stepped in, “no transforming in the house! Last time, Bee left a dent in the kitchen table.”

“Wasn’t me!” Bumblebee chirped innocently through the speaker, even as he absolutely bumped the wall with his fender.

Ironhide grumbled something about “soft human architecture,” and Torque got stuck in the hallway again. Mirage and Tinker were already in the backyard, sunbathing like they weren’t giant alien machines.

“Your house is gonna explode one day,” I warned him, laughing.

“My parents are miraculously not home today. Again,” Chanyeol said. “I think they’re just scared of what they might walk into.”

We all ended up piled into his garage which had become less of a garage and more of a hangout lab/Autobot café. Bee had fairy lights draped across the ceiling. Optimus tried to meditate in the corner. Torque and Chanyeol debated spark-shield tech while you sat on the workbench, spinning a wrench like a drumstick.

“So,” Chanyeol said, sliding next to you, “school’s boring already. Wanna ditch next week and go on that mountain drive you promised?”

“With Bee blasting ‘Tiny Dancer’ at full volume while Torque complains the whole time?” you smirked. “Absolutely.”

He leaned in, brushing his nose against yours with that stupid adorable grin. “Good. Because peace or not, I still need a little chaos.”

Bumblebee let out a perfectly-timed wolf whistle from the corner, and someone (probably Ironhide) groaned.

You laughed so hard your stomach hurt.

War may be over, but with Chanyeol, the Autobots, and the endless noise of engines and laughter around you…

This?

This was the wild, beautiful, chaotic peace you’d always dreamed of.

━━━━⊱⋆⊰━━━━

Bonus Epilogue ; After the garage hangout

It was late.

The rest of the Autobots had powered down or rolled out for the night except for Bee, who was lowkey spying from the shadows like a nosy older brother. The garage was quiet now, moonlight sneaking through the skylight, casting silver over the mess of tools and half-built gadgets.

Chanyeol stood in front of me, arms crossed, leaning against the Midnight Ghost his prized creation. Hair slightly tousled, white tee a little smudged with oil, that annoyingly handsome glow-up face just casually existing like it wasn’t breaking physics.

“You sure you’re not secretly half-Cybertronian?” I teased, stepping closer, nudging his boot with mine.

He smiled that soft, boyish smile the one only I got to see. “Nah. I’m just powered by you.”

I groaned. “That was so lame.”

“You love it.”

“…Maybe.”

There was a pause. Just the hum of a quiet engine somewhere in the distance. The way his eyes looked into mine? Like I was more than just the school hottie or the girl who fixed cars. Like I was everything.

“You still haven’t cashed in on that one promise,” I said, voice lower now.

“What promise?”

“That you’d kiss me after your first big race win. Which, by the way, was weeks ago.”

Chanyeol’s smile turned slow, like molasses and trouble. He stepped in, hands sliding to my waist. “I didn’t forget. I was just waiting for the perfect moment.”

“And now?”

“Now…” He dipped his head just enough for his forehead to rest against mine, his breath mingling with mine. “Now’s perfect.”

And then he kissed me.

Not just a peck or a rushed thing. No, this was one of those soft, intense, slow burn, finally-it’s-happening kisses. The kind that stole all the words from your brain and replaced them with fireworks and the sound of revving engines in your chest.

His fingers tightened slightly at my waist. Mine slid up into his hair, tugging gently. We were both smiling into it messy, dizzy, and stupidly in love.

In the distance, Bee let out a faint romantic pop song from his radio.

We broke apart just enough to laugh.

“I swear,” I whispered, breathless, “if he plays ‘My Heart Will Go On,’ I’m breaking his antenna.”

Chanyeol grinned, pressing one last quick kiss to the corner of my mouth.

“Too late. He already queued up the playlist.”

And right on cue—

🎵 “Don’t Go Breaking My Heart” started playing.

You both doubled over laughing.

But even with all the chaos, that kiss?

It was worth the wait.