loveliestfelix-recs

[loveliestfelix-recs]

can we start over? - c.yj

✸ tw/content. intentional lowercase, cussing, angst(very little), fluff, use of baby (only like once or twice.), reader is slightly antisocial in the beginning, not really proofread

✸ exbsf!yj x afab!reader

✸ note. yj drabble cs i love him an unhealthy amount

✸ song rec. start over - jacquees

you stood in a corner like the awkward person that you are. away from all the chatter, laughter, yelling, and horny crowd. this is how you liked it, you indulged in your solitude.

the unbearably loud music rang in your ears, the fact that you were standing just a couple feet from the speakers didn’t help either.

you decided to drown the ringing by taking a sip of your cup, inhaling a sharp breath as the liquid cascaded down your throat.

“…who hired this dj? music’s unbearable…” you murmured as you frowned at the dj who stood a couple steps from you.

it was fairly boring for a while, the music slowly started to feel faint as the stuffy atmosphere began to push its way into your already tight space. you slightly squeeze the plastic cup in your hand, pressing your back against the wall.

you felt trapped.

deciding you’ve had enough of this, you walk away from the corner. as if you were popping a bubble; like a puppy opening its eyes for the first time, but instead of meeting with a fascinating world, you’re met with drunk shit heads who can’t dance, let alone walk in a straight line.

“where is she…” you huffed, looking for the coworker who invited you to this party, if you can even call it that. it’s more depressing than a fucking funeral.

pushing through everyone was a literal pain in the ass, the environment reeked of alcohol, and the air was incredibly thick. you were starting to regret even accepting the goddamn invitation.

go they said, it’ll be fun they said, “fun my ass.” you utter a small ‘tsk’ as a man twice your size bumps into you, not even having the common courtesy to apologize. god, this is horrible.

you somehow ended up in the kitchen. sighing in frustration, you rest yourself against the counter.

“i’m going to fucking kill-“ you started, but were rudely interrupted when someone walked into the kitchen.

your eyes slightly widened as you acknowledge the person. your ex best friend. fun.

he was whistling along to the horrendous noise these people call music, happiness basically oozing from his pores.

he turned his head to you, looking at you from head to toe in shock, shock which soon subsided and was replaced with an expression you can’t quite describe.

“oh.. hey.” yeonjun waved, mullet drenched in sweat as some loose hairs stuck to his forehead. he breathed heavily, his once joyful demeanor now engulfed in…uncomfortableness? melancholy? nostalgia? it’s been so long that you can’t tell anymore.

he slowly made his way to the fridge, giving you an awkward smile as you bite your inner cheek and look away.

it was silent for a while, you could feel his eyes burning holes into your face.

“yn?” he quietly said, arms crossed over the open fridge door. he looked at you, waiting for a response.

in all honesty, he didn’t expect one. at least not after ghosting you completely and then coming back a couple months later like nothing happened.

he scoffed and shook his head with a sad smile, sighing in disbelief. he was disappointed in himself.

yeonjun shut the fridge door and begun to lead himself out the kitchen, “yes?” you replied with urgency, you didn’t want him to leave. not again. not after losing him for months.

he chuckled, looking back at you. “you’re…not mad at me?” he asked, feet moving in your direction. he realized you aren’t so closed off anymore, you’re more…awake, as if you’ve come to terms with the gravity of things, and for that, he’s thankful. he can make things right now.

you grew nervous, a prominent lump built up in your throat, making it difficult for you to breathe. “i wouldn’t say i am - or was - mad, i guess i..“ you stopped yourself as yeonjun stumbled, falling onto you.

you tried backing up, but couldn’t. fucking counter…you thought, swallowing slowly as the smell of alcohol invaded your nostrils.

“yeonjun? yeonjun, you’re drunk.” you tried pushing him off, but he didn’t budge. instead, he laid his head on your shoulder, “not drunk, just… tipsy.” he blabbered.

it was silent for a couple seconds until you heard him sniffle. he was crying.

“wha…” he grabbed your waist, sobbing into your shoulder. “i’m so-“ he hiccuped, followed by a groan. “i’m sorry, yn, i’m sorry!” yeonjun cried, lifting his head in an attempt to look at you. you stood there, dumbfounded. heart hammering against your chest. he’s drunk. it was evident, yet he still denied it.

he peeked at you through his wet lashes, incoherent sounds slipping past his lips as he wiped his runny nose. “and you say you’re not drunk? look at you! why are you crying?!” you raised both brows in confusion, stroking his hair softly.

you’re supposed to be cussing him out for all the hurt he’s caused you, for leaving with absolutely no explanation, yet here you are, combing your cold fingers through his sweaty strands as he bawls into your shoulder. you’ve seen him like this more often than not; always manages to surprise you, though.

“i’m not drunk…. ‘m sorry” he hesitated, wiping the wetness from his eyes with the back of his hand. as you realize how close your bodies are, you nod, circling around him.

yeonjun turned, biting his lip. he wants to say something. you know he wants to say something, but he’s holding back and it’s making you anxious and impatient.

“would you maybe…want to leave?” you blink, all previous feelings of discomfort disappearing. “what’re you planning?” you question, crossing your arms as you sternly stare at him.

“maybe grab some drinks and then go to my place?” he smiled, which quickly disappeared when you displayed a doubting look. “i mean, i just want to talk to you…without all the noise…and the multitude of people.” your heart shattered, and you were sure your eyes softened, because his did too.

“fine.” yeonjun’s ears perk up, big smile on his face. “let’s go.” you nodded, grabbing his arm before he left the kitchen.

“i’m driving.”

“but-“ his eyebrows furrowed, “no buts, deny it all you want, we’re not risking it.” he sighed, defeat poking through the pout on his lips. he lowly hummed in agreement, walking out of the kitchen with you trailing close behind.

“home sweet home!” yeonjun exclaimed, arms flying in the air as the bag of soju dangled in his hand. “yeonjun, be quiet, it’s late.” you slowly grabbed his arm, taking the bag of soju away. “i shouldn’t have allowed you to drink on the way here.” you sighed, placing the bag on the counter and taking out the already opened box of soju.

he pouted, stumbling towards the little coffee table that sat in the middle of his living room. “bring some soju, please!” he slurred.

you grabbed the box, nestling it under your arm as you made your way towards drunk yeonjun.

you sat down, setting the box on the coffee table. “oh…i forgot to bring shot glasses.” you groaned, fixing to stand up when yeonjun stopped you.

“no, it’s okay. i’ll go get them.” he smiled, patting your hand.

“but-“

“it’s okay.” he shook his head, standing up and making his way to the kitchen.

in a matter of seconds, he was back, sitting in front of you with soju in hand, two shot glasses already set on the table.

yeonjun held the bottle from the bottom with one hand, and swirled it vigorously with the other. you watched him closely, how his hands wrapped around the bottle, you wonder how they’d feel on your face-

“yn?” you blinked, snapping back into reality. “yes? i’m sorry.” you gulped, noticing a full shot glass in front of you.

as you were about to reach for the glass, you stopped midway. sighing as you plopped your arm down on the table. yeonjun noticed this and raised a brow, “is everything…alright?” he asked, pouring soju into his glass.

“yes…and no.” you admitted, “i mean i just…i missed this, you know? spending time with you. i missed being here. i missed this apartment.” you paused, staring at yeonjun who was now looking down at his thighs.

“i missed you.” you leaned forward, arms now crossed on the table. yeonjun snapped his head up, quickly grabbing his glass and gulping the liquid down.

“ahhh…” he set the glass down, frowning as the liquid burned his throat. “i missed you too yn…” he smiled weakly, you realized he wasn’t in the right mind for all the sappy stuff right now, so you decided to change the subject.

“tell me, what have you been up to?” you smiled, grabbing your glass, tilting your head to the side as you swallow the drink.

“me? hm…not much….” yeonjun leaned forward, smile spread across his flushed cheeks.

✸ ✸ ✸

you lost track of time, it seemed. but you weren’t the only one. yeonjun, too, lost track of how many shots he took. not that it mattered, he was already drunk out of his mind to begin with. “baby…..” he slurred, reaching out to you as you gasped. baby?? are you serious??

“yeonjun what…” you decided to stop yourself, not even questioning anything that came out of his mouth.

after looking around for a minute, you groaned. there is so much to clean up.

an unfinished 20 pack of soju on the table; only 4 remaining, some snack wrappers thrown on the table, and a drunk yeonjun who can’t even utter a proper sentence.

“‘m s’sorry” he hiccuped, head lulling as he smiled like an idiot. his lips glistened under the dim light, most likely from all the constant licking and drinking he’s been doing.

“let me take you to your room so you can sleep.” he shook his head violently, backing up against the sofa behind him as you made your way to him.

“no!” he pouted, looking at you with tears brimming his eyes. “oh you’re such a child, come on let’s go!” yeonjun pushed your hand off his arm, whining.

you stopped and huffed, sitting down beside him in order to comfort him, “why are you crying?”

“i f…feel like shit” he cried, wiping his tears with the back of his hand. “why do you feel that way?” you knew this was just a drunk fit of his, but you had to at least hear him out.

“‘cuz i ruined my chance with the person i love” he sniffles, staring into your eyes with his teary ones. you blinked, wiping his tears with your thumbs. “and who may that be?” you question, stroking his shoulder in a comforting manner.

“you.” you inhale sharply, blinking in confusion. you shook your head, chuckling awkwardly, “you’re just drunk, come on.” yeonjun stopped protesting, defeated by his own tiredness.

you wrapped his arm over your shoulder, dragging him while leaning against the walls for support. “goddamnit, what have you been eating? you’re so heavy.” you strain, sighing in relief as your eyes find his bedroom door.

opening the door was one thing, laying him on the bed was another. you pant, his body weighing you down. as a result you slipped and fell.

on top of him.

jesus fuck.

you froze when he groaned. “i’m so sorry!” you scrambled to stand up, but he grabbed your arm and pulled you against him.

“sleep with me tonight, please.” yeonjun whispered, lazy smile spreading across his face. you shake your head, “yeonjun, you’re drunk. we can’t be doing this. you’re not in the right mind!” you faintly shake your head, “please?” he insisted.

you sighed, pressing your forehead against his chest. “fine. but i will be leaving first thing in the morning.” he chuckled, nodding. “if you want to get comfortable, my shirts are over there-“ he hiccuped. you nodded and patted his chest in understanding. “just sleep, okay?? i’ll be right back.” yeonjun hummed, closing his eyes.

you wake up groggy and disoriented, staring at the window as a ray of sunshine peeked through the curtain, making you squint and smile lazily.

you rub the sleep from your eyes and stretch, “good mor-“ you stop as you notice yeonjun isn’t in bed with you anymore. you look around the room once more, no sign of him.

a pang of worry and confusion washed over you. one would think it’s stupid considering the fact that you’re in his house, yet you can’t help but be alarmed.

what if he left you again?

‘oh that’s stupid, yn. pull yourself together.’ you shake your head and scoff, but the panic settles at the pit of your stomach nonetheless.

throwing the blanket to the side, you stand, yawning as you wobble towards the door.

“yn-“ yeonjun stops, doorknob in one hand and breakfast tray in the other. he eyed you as you stood there, eyes wide in confusion.

yeonjun blinked, “good morning?…” he lets out a breathy laugh, stepping into the room and closing the door behind him with his foot. “i made you breakfast.” you felt your heart squeeze at that. he smiled, walking over to the bed and signaling you to lay down.

and you did. you laid down, placing the warm blankets back on your body and smoothing them over in order to create a flat enough surface for the breakfast tray.

“thank you so much..” you gush as yeonjun placed the tray in front of you. he sat down, crossing his legs and smiling like a total idiot.

“you’ve been nothing but smiles since you walked in the room…did something happen?” you question, making yeonjun hang his head with an even bigger smile on his face. “you look so beautiful.” he mumbled, adjusting his position on the bed.

“what?” you looked up, cheek stuffed with food. he snorted, scooting forward and leaning towards you. “i said,” he wiped your lip with his thumb, eyes traveling to yours, holding them dearly. “you look so beautiful.” he chuckled at your expression, making his heart skip a beat.

“you’re making a mess, be careful, yeah?” you grab the tray, placing it to one side as you choke on your food. yeonjun stands with you, stroking your arms with his soft hands.

“hey, you alright?” you nodded, grabbing onto his shoulder for support. “it’s just…” you stopped, swallowing the lump in your throat. “you caught me off guard, that’s all.” yeonjun’s eyes softened, “i meant it.” he caressed your face as a warm smile tugged at his lips.

“why…why are you being so nice to me?” you stepped away from his hold, sitting back down on the soft bed. he sighed and flopped down beside you, staring at the curtains that blocked the sunlight.

“because i’m in love with you.” his eyes traveled from the window to you, “i’ve been in love with you.” you waver, eyes widening in confusion. “and i don’t want to mess up again.”

“so last night-“

“i remember.” yeonjun nodded, fidgeting with his thumbs as he bit his bottom lip. “i guess i was drunk enough to let that slip but not enough to forget.” he reasoned, gazing at you briefly before staring at his feet.

“it’s okay if you don’t want anything to do with me, i mean-“ you placed a hand on his, drawing circles on it with your thumb. “yeonjun, im in love with you too.” he stopped, shifting on the bed.

“what?…”

“im in love with you too.”

he stuttered, mouth opened for a few seconds before closing it again. you saw the glint in his his eyes before being pulled into a hug.

a long, warm, cozy hug.

a hug you’ve been craving for a while.

his hug.

you broke into tears, nuzzling your face into his shoulder. “oh god, yn, i’m deeply sorry. i’ve hurt you so much.” yeonjun ran his fingers through your hair, cooing softly.

you stained his shirt, but he didn’t care,“i missed you so much, you know? we stopped talking for so long. i thought i lost you for real…” you say between sobs, lightly punching his chest.

“i forgive you, dumbass.” he stayed quiet, you’re too nice. he didn’t deserve you, he didn’t deserve your forgiveness. yet you gave it. you gave something so precious to someone who doesn’t even deserve a single look from you.

yeonjun held your face in his hands, wiping your tears with his thumbs. he smiled, “how about this, you finish breakfast and then we can go wherever you want. i’ll explain myself. i’ll explain everything.” you nod slowly, grinning.

“there’s my yn, i missed you.” he quipped, earning himself a slap to his arm. he winced, rubbing the spot.

“is this a date then?” you question, grabbing another bite of your once forgotten food.

“hmmmmmmm” yeonjun tapped his chin, laughing as you whine. “yes dummy, it is.” he flicked your forehead lightly as you giggled.

you grab his arm, “let’s get ready then.” yeonjun didn’t budge as you tried dragging him along, “but the food…” you shook your head, “it’s gone cold, plus i know you’re somewhat hung over so let me treat you to food, hm?” you tapped his hand reassuringly.

“yn-“

“i’m not taking no for an answer.” he pursed his mouth, slowly nodding in defeat.

“perfect, where do you want to go?”

“how about…”

you both disagreed the entire way to the bathroom, laughing and giggling as jokes were thrown around between sentences.

you missed this.

you missed yeonjun.

he was willing to start over, and you were willing to let it happen.

© GARDNHEE 2023, do not copy, modify, or upload on other platforms.

💌: im sorry this is lwk ass, i hope you enjoyed regardless! please make sure to leave a like, comment, and reblog!! thank you 🫶

[loveliestfelix-recs]

YUP YUP YUPPPPPP MY BELOVED BIRD HUNT FINALLY SEEING THE LIGHT EVERYONE SAY THANK YOU DUCKIE 🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏 cant wait for the world to read this masterpiece (that I already got to read a year ago🤭🤭🤭🤭*totally not bragging rn*)

BIRD HUNT — one

nonidol!choi line x f!reader

gotham city is a gutter running rampant with the ill, corrupt, and the insane. at times, justice and vengeance must be served by one's own hand... no matter the lengths one must go to do so.

▷ genre, au, etc. bat family au, dc comics inspired, dark, vigilantes au, slow burn, ceo/billionaire au, cat woman!reader, murder mystery au, action, suspense, angst, slow burn-ish?, love square??; choi line inspired by dick grayson (csb), jason todd (cyj), and tim drake (cbg), including bruce wayne for choi minho and damian wayne for nishimura riki, inspired by 2022's The Batman

▷ chapter warnings. swearing, mentions of insomnia, bank robbery, mentions of assault/violence, mentions of weaponry, depictions of death and blood, dead body

▷ word count. 3.8k // taglist. open

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FILE_01 : a thing for strays

gotham city.

[beomgyu & yn are 15, soobin is 16, yeonjun is 17.]

The incessant, distinct cry of meowing drew 15-year-old Choi Beomgyu from his warm covers and his state of sleep. (Technically speaking, it was only partial unconsciousness, but this wasn't about his insomnia.) He had long accepted the fact that good night's rests were rare in this world and with his condition, so there was less irritation and more plain curiosity in his mind. In other words, he cared very much about how a cat could meow so loud over the city’s infinite soundtrack more than sleeping.

He dragged his palms over his eyes, scrubbing away the stinging in his irises due to sleep deprivation. The dull buzz at the back of his head kept him awake constantly anyway. As he made his way toward the window, his eyelids fluttered like the shutter of a camera lens, actively adjusting to the warm glow of a light radiating from the apartment across the alleyway from him and streaming into the darkness of his.

Beomgyu peered out of the window, hand idly scratching his chest while the other leaned on the sill. It wasn't completely uncommon to see at least one person wandering the streets late at night in Gotham City. No sane person would be out, but whoever said Gotham residents were sane in the first place?

In the alleyway below, he could make out a shadowy form crouched by a dingy cardboard box at the foot of a dumpster. You knelt there before the box; Beomgyu quietly lifted his window open to hear what you were saying. You didn't look much older than he was, and you were bundled in a straight trench coat that left much to the imagination. A pair of slippers peeked out from beneath you, however, where you braced yourself against the grainy gravel ground.

"I'm not gonna — yah! I'm trying to help you, you st—" You huffed, hands raised in the air. "Sorry, that's mean of me to say."

A small laugh fell from his lips.

Your head perked up at the sound, and he mentally praised your alertness. That was a critical skill to wield here. Your head whipped around, eyes searching the alleyway, before meeting his eyes. You narrowed your own. "Have you just been there watching me this whole time?"

"Depends; how long have you been out here?" He drawled back, his upper body leaning out of the window and his elbows bracing against the window sill.

You rolled your eyes and turned back to the cat in the box. "Creep."

"Weirdo."

That got you whirling around for him again, and this time, he stared at the way the amber streetlight posted just at the mouth of the alleyway illuminated your features and the feisty gleam in your eyes. There was a feline likeness to your eyes and tendencies—your posture and crouch stance, narrow-eyed cynicism, alertness and awareness. "The fuck d'you just call me?"

He shrugged with a smirk pulling at the corners of his lips. "You called me a creep first."

You scoffed at his teasing. This was much more fun than tossing and turning for sleep that would never come.

"Are you not afraid of catching something from the animals out here?" Beomgyu queried, now leaning his chin in the palm of his hand. He was Juliet leaning out of her window to lament her dramatic soliloquy, unaware of Romeo's presence below. His father would scoff at such a romanticized view of life, but it was all said with an undertone of cynicism anyway. "I mean, have you seen what crawls out of the gutters? Ngh," he shivered.

There was something he couldn't place in your features as you suddenly scooped the mewling cat into your arms and stood facing him. Beomgyu watched in awe as the cat began to purr and nuzzle into the warmth that your body provided. Your hand gently smoothed over its fur, even if the feline was matted with dirt and grime.

"I have a thing for strays," you said simply. On the surface, it was a quote of defiance, but beneath it all, he sensed there was something else to it.

Beomgyu's heart stuttered when you had said that and looked him right in the eyes.

As if on cue, a pair of black and white cats padded their way out of the shadows toward you. From where, he had no clue. But they circled your legs, rubbing against your sweatpants adoringly. He guessed these were yours, but he shouldn't assume simply based on their cleaner and maintained coats. (Sarcasm—that was sarcasm. He was definitely going to guess based on that.)

The apartment across the alleyway opened up at ground level and more of its warm light streamed out into the alley. A woman stood at the doorway with one hand on her cocked hip. "Yn, you know we can't…"

"Oh, but mama," you pleaded. You lifted the purring mass of fur in your arms as if it would plead your case for you. It was kind of cute, really. "Look at her."

The woman's eyes twinkled. "Ah, all right. Let me see if we have more—" Her words died upon her tongue when she caught Beomgyu's frame at his window.

He marked the spark of recognition in her eyes. He wasn't completely surprised.

"You're—You're one of the Choi kids, aren't you?" She asked. Perhaps it was less of a question than a statement, because Beomgyu had no doubt she didn't need confirmation. He and his brothers' and his father's faces had been plastered all over the society columns since birth. "Beomgyu, isn't it?"

"Yes ma'am," he said. "Pleased to make your acquaintance."

Her head tilted to the side, and he saw the curiosity in your features, as well. It seemed you hadn't recognized him though. "You're quite polite for…" She shook her head, dismissing her previous thought. "What're you doing on this side of the city?"

Ah, and that was yet another mystery, wasn't it? Besides the mystery of his entire family, it was the fact that the Choi kids, despite hardly being adult aged, did not live at Choi Manor all of the time. Eventually, Beomgyu figured they'd all amass there once more and dwell there more frequently, but for now, he liked his dingy, crumby, little apartment in this specific Gotham gutter. Folks usually didn't expect the child of a multimillionaire to pick this dump to have his own apartment in.

But that was the strategy, wasn't it? Not only to prove people's judgements wrong, but to also let himself live and breathe and learn from his own mistakes.

Oh, and learn to deal with his insomnia on his own. So far, the only solutions he'd found were copious doses of melatonin or just caffeine. But even those things were hit or miss.

"Got kicked out," he joked.

And then he regretted it immediately afterward when he realized how real that felt. It was sticky and metallic in his mouth, like blood, and it felt too real.

You and your mother were surprisingly sympathetic and neither of you made any brash comments concerning his status, his money, his family and being "kicked out." He expected something like "spoiled brat got an apartment to himself when he got kicked out of daddy's mansion," but nothing of the sort came forth.

I have a thing for strays, your words echoed in his mind.

The doorway to your apartment seemed to open just a little wider. "How about you come over for a little hot chocolate?"

Despite it being the beginning of summer, hot chocolate sounded nice. (Hot chocolate and company sounded nice.)

Beomgyu's eyes subtly flickered over to you, expecting some kind of catty objection, but even you stayed quiet, your eyes peering up at him. Waiting. I have a thing for strays.

"Okay," he swallowed. "I couldn't sleep anyway."

[3 years later.]

"You're a little young, don't you think?"

Nineteen-year old-Choi Soobin's head perked up at the question posed toward the current interviewee. Your name was Ln Yn, according to the manilla file folder of your records, application, and supplementary materials—all of which were quite good for someone of your age. When you presented yourself before the panel of interviewers for the opening of a job here at Choi Enterprises, you had done so with perfect posture and a professional vocabulary. You acted a lot older than your age, which was why Soobin thought that question was so goddamn absurd.

You didn't even fidget, all to your credit. You didn't shrink once under the stares of the interview panel, plus Soobin. He was just there to observe and learn, but he was given permission beforehand to step in if he felt any desire to. "Pardon?"

The man who had posed the question was one of Soobin's least favorite people here. Along with a balding head, he had a balding personality. Balding of what? Balding of humanity. He elaborated, "You've only just graduated from high school, you have yet to even begin a college degree. Do you not believe that you could learn and experience a little more?"

You cleared your throat. "With all due respect, sir, the hiring page said that this was an entry level job."

Yeah, Soobin thought to himself, that's what they always say. You must have been surprised by the extensive hiring process for said "entry level job." He really needed to have a talk with the people in Hiring and Recruitment; he picked up the pen tucked behind his ear to note it down in his little notebook to remind himself later.

"And yet, we also prefaced the description with a college degree requirement," added another member. Soobin begrudgingly admitted that that was true.

"I don't believe a college degree is particularly necessary for secretarial work, especially when most of the duties will be taught to me on site."

That is also true, he thought. Professional, calm… blank. You'd fit in great here.

"It would be difficult for partners and businesses to take a girl like you seriously—"

Soobin leaned forward and sent a look down toward the idiot who decided to open his mouth again. He sounded like he had a stick up his ass; Soobin wouldn't be surprised if he did. His posture said otherwise, but his attitude? Jesus fucking Christ. He cut in, "Excuse me."

As his father had told him time and time again: Sometimes you have to do things yourself.

The room shifted its attention to him. He poked the inside of his cheek with his tongue, his hand raised slightly with his pen, gesturing vaguely. "Your age is not really the main concern, Miss Ln. Not for me, at least." Your eyes had narrowed slightly on him, and he straightened in his chair. "The concern is that, while your résumé and references are good, your experience is lacking. This would be your first corporate job and we're looking for someone who could reliably carry out what we have outlined their duties to be."

That was how it should have been worded. That was how his father would have worded it.

"Then based off my references, Mr. Choi, would it not be safe to say that I am a reliable person?" It was definitely safe to say that you knew your way around words and requirements. There was a defiance about you that he couldn't deny, something rare that prodded at the back of his mind. It told him that if he didn't snatch you up now, someone else would.

When the interview ended, Soobin tucked the pen behind his ear once more. It was customary for interviewers to wait until the interviewee had left the room before they could leave, as well. They would think over their notes tonight before coming to a decision on all of the candidates tomorrow morning.

That feeling pricked at the back of Soobin's mind as he stood from his seat and hustled over to the elevator. He went down to the lobby, where he spotted you just pushing out the main glass doors.

"Miss Ln!"

Your head perked up at the sound of your name being shouted over the hustle and bustle of the Gotham City streets. Strands of your hair, windswept under the forever-overcast sky, blew across your face and you reached up to brush them out of your eyesight as you marked the young Choi heir making his way over to you. He was tall—perhaps around six foot or taller—with a crisp suit and that blue ballpoint pen behind one ear. The dark circles rimming his dark eyes were charming like his black bangs swept up by the breeze.

You didn't know what to say to him, really, but here you were—stopping and awaiting his thoughts. Soobin was grateful you did. There was something irking him about you, something he couldn't put his finger on. Anyone else would have stopped him, begged him for the position. He was younger, impressionable, a Choi.

You waited.

"I just wanted to say," he said, nodding, "good luck." He choked out the words, not because they tasted bitter on his tongue, but because he hadn't even known why he had chased you down in the first place.

Your eyes glanced at him up and down, but you were nodding back at him. You suddenly looked so uncomfortable in that formal wear. "Thank you."

Soobin heard the distant cries of his name from down the street—aw fuck. Just as he ducked back into the building, you had disappeared into the crowd. He hoped he might see you again.

[1 year later.]

"H-he has a young woman in ther—"

"Sick," twenty-one-year-old Choi Yeonjun said, patting the man on the head. The bank teller quivered like a leaf in the wind in the presence of Gotham's Red Hood. "Thanks, man."

His old man would murder him if his face was seen while he was "serving justice" or whatever.

As Yeonjun stepped over the fallen bodies of his victims—they didn't even deserve the label of "victim" when they had been the ones robbing this joint—he replaced the cartridge of his pistols. They were twins, pearl handles with just a touch of gold that he loved to twirl around in his hands. His father always rolled his old man eyes when he showboated, but Yeonjun never thought of it as showboating, rather an art. There were moments where he preferred the heft and damage of an AK-47, but his babies were always there for him, too.

He adjusted the crimson mask seated securely over his entire face; the metal was warm with his breathing, but he had gotten used to the suffocating feeling.

It was a shame that this last dude had taken a hostage though. That meant traumatized victim, a much more careful shot needed, and a whole lot of—

"Fuck you!"

He stopped clean at the threshold of the main vault at the back of the Gotham Bank (yes, the so-called "joint") as he watched the young woman in question, you, twist your captor's arm behind his back and pin him to the ground beneath the sole of your three-inch heel. He had gone red in the face, him and his bald ass head.

What a view. Yeonjun whistled lowly before he could stop himself.

Both heads looked up to watch him walk in. He caught the way your shoulders tensed at the sight of him, and he opened three of his fingers in each hand and showed his palms like his own way of raising his hands. "Hey, darlin', we're on the same side."

Your hair fell in disarray around your head and face, and your mascara had smudged around your eyes, but it didn't discount the sharp narrowing of them. "What took you so long? Aren't you supposed to be the hero or something?"

"Okay, first of all, I'm not a hero—" he blinked and sent a bullet through the robber's upper thigh. You shrieked, leaping away from him and Yeonjun, who suspected that you now thought of him as a maniac. Good. "—I'm just the dude who's trying to serve justice or something."

Yeonjun holstered his two baby pistols into the holsters on either side of his belt. "And second, that was—"

The sharp cry of sirens pierced the air, and he could hear the caws of incoming cops and their thundering footsteps heading right toward his and your location. Yeonjun swore under his breath, his instincts kicking in.

"Well, that's my cue to leave." He whirled on his heel and saluted you. "See ya!"

He ducked into the shadows of the hallway just outside the vault, and waited for the police to run past him with their blaring walkie talkies. They would find you in the carnage, no gun in sight, but with a wounded bad guy at your feet and a bullet hole in his thigh.

Yeonjun's head thumped back against the wall; he bit his lip beneath the mask. Fuck it, you were gonna be fine.

He had thought that, and yet, here he now sat, lounging in the passenger seat of your car in the alleyway by the bank, biding his time. His mask and dark brown leather jacket laid discarded at his booted feet, his aching arms given breathing room through his white muscle tee. He stretched out the kinks in his neck, hand running through his damp, black hair.

He was waiting.

Literally waited an hour and a half. Or maybe it was just half an hour. Sue him, he was hungry.

Finally, you rounded the corner to the symphony of your car unlocking. It gave a delightfully loud chirp and it knocked the drowsiness right out of his brain. Thank god there was still some light out or else you might have screamed. Instead, you stopped right outside your car, in front of the windshield with your eyes wide. (Actually, you didn't feel like the "scream in fright" type. It was more like "inhale sharply.")

Yeonjun didn't know what he was doing, to be honest. Then again, he never knew what he was doing. He smiled lazily at you and gave a small wave.

You must have had some kind of death wish, because you approached the car with him still in it, and he hadn't even introduced himself yet. Or maybe, he didn't have to introduce himself.

Your eyes narrowed again for the second time he had seen you. Was that your tell? Your thing?

Carefully, you tugged the driver's door open, but remained behind it and did not get in with him. Smart girl. "What the hell do you want and how the fuck did you get in here?"

"You kiss your mama with that mouth, darlin’?" He teased before he could stop himself. What could he say? He was a "shoot first, ask questions later" type of guy. His father hated that about him.

"Why are you in my car?"

He shook his head and let out a noise akin to feigned exasperation. "Just tryin' to make sure they didn't give you shit."

"I didn't see you in the bank, Choi Yeonjun."

Bingo. He smiled. "I like to be noticed when I wanna be noticed."

Your head cocked to the side. "I guess I believe you." You gestured to him vaguely with a lazy hand. "D'you mind?"

He sat up in the passenger seat and gestured his hand back toward you and the driver's seat. Maybe if his smile had widened, your eye would have twitched. There was something so amusing about him gradually frustrating you. "No, not at all."

Your pretty eyes rolled; he laughed.

"Okay, okay. Got the message." He briefly raised his hands in mock surrender, then leaned down to collect his red mask in the fabric of his brown leather jacket. He hadn't even bothered to remove or hide his pearl-handled pistols from his side holsters as he removed himself from your car.

A smirk flickered to his lips—out of your sight, of course—when he heard you sputter, "Wait—"

"Later, darlin'!" And then he was gone, out of your sight, as if he had been only a shadow from your memory.

You wondered if this day could get even weirder or even worse than it already was.

Exhaustion coursed through your veins as you slipped into the driver's seat and pulled out onto the main street. First, it was the strange email you'd received about a problem with your bank account. Then, it was whatever that interaction was. Choi Yeonjun as the Red Hood? Or perhaps only covering for one of the city’s resident vigilantes? But then, for what reason? If not for all of the trouble, you would have been home already; your joints loosened at the thought of coming home to your mom, pets, and something warm for dinner.

Brain muddied like a Gotham gutter during the wet season, the last thing that you wanted to worry about right now was how a Choi heir was connected to a vigilante.

When you arrived on your street, you pulled into the alley beside your complex and pushed back out into the grainy, Gotham evening.

Your head cocked to the side at the sound of loud meowing. As you approached the door, you could hear scratching from the other side.

Strange. Your cats usually knew to not scratch the doors anymore, and why wasn't your mom getting them to stop?

With a reprimand on your lips, you pushed your way in. “Guys, who is…”

A scream was left caught in your throat.

You felt yourself stumble forward into your home, the floorboards patterned in bloody paw prints, multicolored fur swarming your legs and meowing at you in distress.

Out—had they been trying to get out?

“Mom?” Your voice sounded strangled. “Mama?”

Bile crawled up your throat and your palm slammed against the side wall to keep yourself upright. You couldn’t get your eyes off of your mother’s taut and ashen skin, lifeless eyes staring up at the ceiling, a bullet hole through her temple. Blood seeped into the floorboards to stain the wood beneath her limp body, and you were choking, hacking at the metal filling up your lungs.

You stumbled toward her body and blood oozed into the material of your pants as you knelt by her body to feel for her pulse.

Dead. Deaddeaddeaddead.

Your hands stained with your mother’s crimson life force stained your hands and trembled as you searched your body for your phone. You—what were—what was the number? Who did this? This couldn’t be real.

Blood rushed into your ears; you couldn’t hear the sirens, couldn’t hear the voice on the other end of the phone.

Your mind had gone blank, mouth dry, and you sat down on the ground next to your mother’s body, your tears slipping down the slopes of your cheeks to land on her own face.

Dead, how could she be dead? How was this real?

A mass of fur appeared in the corners of your vision and you followed their gaze back toward the front door. And for a chilling moment, you were stone-cold sober. There was a note staked into the doorframe: A Debt Repaid.

a/n: pls remember to comment and reblog!

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[loveliestfelix-recs]

seven minutes

( sjy )​⠀​⠀•⠀​⠀seven minutes in heaven w/ your enemy, or is he? wc 1k⠀fluff,⠀enemies to lovers​⠀jake​⠀w.​⠀mentions of kissing

if someone asked you if there was one person you hated the most, it would be jake.

although it seemed as if the universe decided to go against you, tangling your strings once again and leaving you currently locked inside a closet with him for a childish game called seven minutes in heaven.

at least seven minutes is quite short, you suppose.

“you like me too much, huh? spinning that bottle only for it to land on me.”

—or not. seven minutes feels like hours when it’s spent with jake, and if it weren't for the darkness staining your vision, perhaps you would’ve punched his face by now.

“no, and whatever it is that you’re expecting, we’re not kissing, sim.” the tone is harsh coming out of you, but it wasn't enough to not make him chuckle.

“ah, you might have to rethink your words, sweetheart.”

jake has not spoken since.

a few moments pass by with silence hanging in the space between the two of you.

this isn't something you're used to—the way jake is so quiet and the lack of teases that comes out from him. although you find yourself annoyed with him every time he runs his mouth, your heart clenches when it feels as if you couldn't feel his presence.

not being able to see him with your very eyes scares you, and a little bit of banter with jake is something you’d rather have than nothing at all.

“jake."

“yeah?”

“you’re too quiet.”

laughter spills out of his lips, “miss my voice that much already? why, don't tell me you're scared of the dark?”

the silence coming from you is enough as a reply, the laughter dying down on jake’s tongue and replaced with something else. “wait, you're actually scared?”

“don't make fun of me for it,” you raise your voice, defensive. “i just don't like how i can't see you.”

if only you could see the way his eyes softened, then perhaps you would've seen the amount of care reflected in his eyes he reserved just for you.

a sigh escapes from him breathlessly.

“don't worry. i won't make fun of you, sweetheart. not like this.”

all of a sudden, a pair of warm, gentle hands clasps onto your wrists and brings it onto his shoulders. it’s broad as you feel it on the tips of your fingers, and the action brings a sudden flush to your cheeks at the realization.

his arms wrap around your waist, pulling you close, excessively close to the point that all you could do is settle your head against his chest. with his touch on your back, his breath fanning your skin, and his heart drumming in your ears, you didn't need to see him to know he’s with you.

“is this okay?” he whispers in your ear.

“better," you reply.

“ah, aren't i so sweet? this is why we should go from friends to lovers already.”

you punch his chest, earning a faint “ow” from him. “it’s enemies to lovers, sim.”

“huh, so you do think we’ll be lovers.” you can almost feel the smug grin in his face after he says those words, and it only leaves you clutching on his shirt tighter. from irritation or the fact that he’s right, you didn't know, although your heart tells you otherwise.

“no, that’s not my point. the point is that we hate each other too much that we can't even be lovers, sim.”

he pauses for a few seconds, “you think i hate you?”

“yes, you do,” you say with full certainty. “you always follow me around wherever i go just to annoy me. you even make fun of me or always poke my arm during class. you really know how to rile me up, don't you?”

“do you think i do that with anyone else?” he asks, desperation starts to lace itself in his voice the more he speaks. “think about it. i only do those things because it’s the only way for me to get your attention. i do all those things because it’s you and because i only ever liked you, no one else.”

the confession has your mind reeling as you think back to the memories you shared with him. everything, from his gestures to his actions. and the more you think about it, the more it makes sense.

how he’d join you under your umbrella when it rains, saying he could never be bothered to buy one when he has you instead. how he’d make you wear his jacket when it was winter because it was “too heavy.” and how he’d sit down next to you whenever you were studying at the library with the excuse that he was going to study as well.

(all he did was sleep each time. but he stayed, and he was making sure to accompany you until the very end.)

it was in those moments where his feelings lingered—where his heart was open in the palms of his hands, just beating and waiting for you to take.

and it overwhelms you, more than you’d like to admit.

“i find it hard to believe.”

“i can prove it to you if you’ll let me.” his hands travel to your cheeks, his thumb tracing over your lips so he knows where to find it.

his heart is open once again. this time, you take it.

“prove it.”

and then it comes—his lips touch your own without wasting a single second. it is slow at first, hesitant, until the months of pent-up emotions rises in his throat that he needed to let it all out.

the kiss becomes rushed and messy the way two lovers dance carelessly under the rain, your arms wrapping around his neck and hands tugging on his hair.

you drown yourself in his love, longingly, passionately.

as soon as the two of you pull away, the door finally opens. the sudden light blinds your eyes for a moment, and when your vision finally clears, the first thing you see is jake with his face flushed and chest breathing heavily.

a smile then etches on his lips. but this time, it isn't another one of his smirks you’ve learned to recognize.

this time, it’s a smile of knowing.

a smile of pure happiness and joy and elation that he finally has you.

“i told you to rethink your words, love.”

© hysgf⠀ in honor of jake month and enhypen cb day heh

[loveliestfelix-recs]

I posted on my main a few days ago guysss<33

A Beautiful Memory; Beomgyu

Genre: medieval au, forbidden love, angst, fluff

Word count: 5.8K

Warnings: mentions of a house fire, blood, bruises, death, kisses

Synopsis: in which you are the future queen of the country but happen to fall in love with the stable boy of the palace.

Playlist: Present-Lloyd Vaan, Stay-Ghostly Kisses, Where Do Lovers Go?-Ghostly Kisses, Daylight-David Kushner, butterfly-Heylu, Clay-Ghostly kisses

Long time no see but the longest hiatus I’ve ever had is finally over! I have multiple wips that are almost done and I’ve also rediscovered my love for writing which means no more long hiatuses hopefully :’) I am so excited to share this fic with you guys. I’ve worked hard on it so I hope you will like it as much as I do. Don��t forget to grab some tissues <3

With slow steps, you entered the stables. The air was dry in the wooden building and it smelled like a mix of hay and livestock, but nevertheless the atmosphere was comforting. As usual.

Your hand trailed over the stalls and you kept your gaze on the horses, fighting to not let your eyes wander off to your finger. Your ring finger that felt like it weighted a ton since yesterday.

And still, your heart felt heavier. So heavy, that it took all the energy in your body to make your way to your favorite horse, Night.

"Hey, baby," you cooed, softly patting the back of the black horse. "Can you believe Beomgyu does not want me to ride today? He must think I'm some weakling," you added hoarsely. Saying his name seemed to add another unbearable weight onto your finger.

"I don't think you are a weakling, love, but I don't want your injury to worsen."

The deep, familiar voice behind you made your heartbeat instantly speed up.

Oh, his voice. His warm, comforting voice.

Without noticing, you bit your lower lip to stop a pained smile from growing on your lips.

"It's just a minor injury, Beomgyu, nothing big enough to keep me and Night apart," you forced yourself to reply.

The noise of the doors of the stable falling shut made you look up from Night, but you didn't turn around. You didn't need to because you already knew why he closed them, you already knew what was coming.

The clicking of Beomgyu's boots coming in contact with the floor neared and you closed your eyes the moment you felt his muscular arms sneak around your waist and pull you into his chest.

"Does it still hurt?" he mumbled in your ear before pressing his lips onto the skin just below your ear lobe in a soft kiss.

"No," you replied earnestly, "not anymore.”

You wondered if he knew you were not just talking about your injury from when you fell off the new horse last week. You wondered if he knew nothing hurt anymore the moment you were in his arms, the moment his lips would become one with your own.

Beomgyu replied by tightening his grip on your body, and you craned your neck to face him. His lips were only a few inches from yours and his warm breath fanning your mouth made your insides do summersaults. Your eyes flickered from his plush, rosy lips to his dark eyes and you found them already looking into yours.

"You look beautiful," he whispered as if scared someone would hear him in the empty stable. You knew he was not, but if he really was afraid, his fear wouldn't be misplaced.

Figuratively, the two of you were never alone. Your love was never alone. Threats surrounded it every moment of its existence, like the prying eyes of a lion watching an innocent deer.

Your love was simply not allowed to exist.

Beomgyu leaned in with hooded eyes and you knew when his warm lips touched yours, your love was not allowed to exist. You knew your love wasn't allowed to exist when you slowly turned in his arms and placed your hands on his abdomen before letting them make their way up to his neck and then into his hair. You knew your love wasn't allowed to exist when he pulled away slightly to repeat: "You're so beautiful."

You were so aware it wasn't allowed to exist.

And still, you leaned in again. Again and again and again, capturing his lips with your own, your cheeks red and your heartbeat rapid. Because loving Beomgyu was more than you had ever dreamed of. It was easy, exciting, and comforting. No other feeling compared to being in love with Choi Beomgyu, the stable boy of the palace.

You slowly pulled away and watched the way Beomgyu licked his lips with his eyes still shut, the eyelashes that just tickled your cheeks with every movement his lips made now hovering over the pale skin of his cheekbones.

"You say that every time you see me, Moon Boy," you smiled shyly when his eyes opened and made contact with yours.

"Because you're the prettiest thing I know," he replied as if it was the most logical response to your question.

"What about the moon?" You quipped, your cheeks starting to hurt from the way you were fighting back the smile on your face.

No one loved the moon as much as Beomgyu did, hence the nickname you gave him a while ago.

Beomgyu let out a breathy chuckle. "The moon is a close second. But honestly, she doesn't stand a chance next to you. She doesn't shine half as bright as your smile does when you look at me, love," he murmured and softly nipped at your lower lip before leaving another peck in the corner of your mouth.

With your cheeks now on fire, you felt yourself almost weaken in his hold.

The impact this man had on you.

"Gyu..." you whispered shyly and tightened your grip on his shoulders.

"What is it, love?" he replied, a facade of innocence coloring his perfectly sculpted face before a teasing smile broke through

"Beomgyu!" You repeated embarrassedly before placing your hands on your cheeks to cool them off, suddenly grateful your hands were always cold.

Beomgyu positioned his hands over yours, cupping your face and pecking the tip of your nose. "I love it when you get shy— I love it when I am the reason you get shy."

You closed your eyes and chuckled. "You really know how to fluster me, Choi."

He let out a heartfelt laugh and stepped back before flipping his hair jokingly and giving you a prideful smile. "Look at that, people, the simple stable boy of the palace made the future queen of the country flustered, isn't that just mad?" He uttered as if addressing an entire crowd before turning back to look into your sparkling eyes, and he bit his lower lip, "I think I made it."

You giggled before raising your chin and painting the familiar 'princess face' onto your features.

The face - the facade - you only put on whenever you had to be that part of you, when you had to be the princess of the palace, the future queen of the country.

"I certainly believe you won the lottery, my good sir Choi Beomgyu," you responded, the royalty of your being suddenly evident in the tone of your voice, and Beomgyu bowed for you with a large smile on his face.

"I believe so too, my queen," he replied, and your cheeks heated up.

You indeed were his queen, well, his future queen. You were the future queen of everyone in this country. But when Beomgyu said my queen, you knew the pronoun had a different weight. You knew you were his, more than you were anyone's.

You placed a hand under Beomgy's chin, raising him from his bow. His mouth was shut but his eyes, locked with yours, were saying everything.

"I love you, Beomgyu," you murmured, the words coming straight from your heart. Sometimes it felt like your entire heart was beating just for the boy in front of you.

The boy who was once just the stable boy to you.

Loving him was so familiar to you that sometimes you forgot just how forbidden it was. How shameful and revolting the idea would be to others.

And although you never wanted to let the thought sit in your head for longer than a second, the fear someone would ever find out what was happening inside the stables still clawed at your mind, at your heart. You didn't want Beomgyu to see it, but you knew he was aware of your fear.

But still, even though he did worry for your name and reputation in the palace sometimes, he never, not once, feared for his own life. He never doubted his actions. He would never stop loving you even if that would mean a safer life for him. You were his life. He made that clear to you after you tried to push him away and end what was between you multiple times in fear for his life.

You had tried so hard, were so harsh and degrading to him. All to make him stay away from you, to give him a safe, peaceful life.

But Beomgyu never had anything to lose. He didn't have any family to take care of after he lost them in a fire seven years ago.

He had never cared about anything or anyone after their death.

Until he met you. You had given him a new reason to keep on wanting to live, you were his lifeline.

Beomgyu cupped your face with one hand and stroked your cheek with his fingers, the skin slightly calloused due to his hard work in the stables.

"My princess..." he whispered, his warm breath fanning your lips.

Princess.

Like a sudden burst of thunder, the recollection of why you came to the stables appeared in your mind. A quick wave of nausea rushed through your body and you froze.

Beomgyu and his dreamy eyes had immediately distracted you the second he entered the place, but the harsh, cold reality was now hauling you out of your warm, utopian dreams with full force.

Beomgyu was just going to reconnect his parted lips with your own when he noticed the way the light in your eyes faded, the way your shoulders tensed up and your chin raised.

"Is... is everything, okay, princess?"

Princess.

A princess who would soon have to marry a prince.

A real prince. Not one who had a royal and golden heart.

No, a prince with royal blood.

"Yn?"

Beomgyu's soft voice slowly turned stern and serious as he brushed some strands of hair out of your face with his slender fingers.

"Beomgyu, we need to talk."

Your voice suddenly sounded so distant in your ears and Beomgyu swallowed, the carefree expression slowly falling off his face. As if he knew.

You took a step back, and Beomgyu's eyes flickered up and down, examining the space between you two with a furrow in his thick, dark eyebrows.

You took a deep breath and mentally and physically prepared yourself. Prepared to tell him the feared truth that had been haunting every part of your mind and heart since yesterday.

"Beomgyu, I..."

Your voice died down in your throat.

Because you saw the confused expression on Beomgyu's face fall.

Every emotion that was in his face just a few seconds ago disappeared, and slowly, his shoulders slumped.

And that was when you realized where his eyes were fixated on.

The weight on your finger.

The engagement ring.

The outer ends of Beomgyu's eyebrows drooped and he cocked his head to the side.

"Since when?" His voice was strained and suddenly so unfamiliar to you.

"Yesterday," you replied quietly and tried to control the anxiety rushing through your body.

Beomgyu swallowed and took a step back before running a hand through his hair.

"God, wow, I-" he swallowed again and your entire body ached to hold him, to let him know there would never be another man for you.

"Beomgyu, I want us to run away-"

"Congratulations."

You could almost taste the bitterness in his voice as he interrupted you and returned his stare to you.

"What?"

You took a step in his direction but he instantly stepped back. He might as well punched you in the gut—it probably would have hurt less.

Tears filled your eyes. "Beomgyu, didn't you hear what I said? We need to run away."

Beomgyu shook his head.

"Congratulations, Yn... on your engagement," he murmured, completely disregarding your words as if still in disbelief.

You saw the small shake in his hand as he brought it to his mouth, the back of it against his lips as if wiping away the touch of yours.

Your vision became blurry due to the salty tears pooling in your eyes.

"I know you think running away is a bad idea, but-"

"You should leave," he said, his voice almost monotone.

You snapped.

"Listen to me! If we were to leave tonight, we could make it to the forest by the morning. Beomgyu, we can run away."

Finally, you seemed to grasp his attention. But sadly you did not receive the response you were waiting for.

"And then where to?" He exclaimed, the emotion returning to his voice. An emotion easily to be described as hopelessness.

"Yn, we both know this is impossible. They will find us. They will kill me immediately and take you back to the palace. It will destroy your reputation, the possibility of becoming a queen-"

"I don't want to be a queen!" You cried out. "I don't want to be a queen and I don't want to marry that man. I haven't even properly talked to him ever! I can't marry anyone who is not you… I- I can't do it."

"You have to." His voice was suddenly small, fragile.

Shaking your head hastily, tears fell from your cheeks. "No, I want to stay here with you," you managed to choke out through the tears. "I want you to hold me-"

"I can't do that. Not anymore.”

Though his voice was unsteady, his words hit you with full force and your jaw almost dropped.

"What are you saying?" You breathed, your mind not able to wrap around his words.

"Yn, you-" his lower lip trembled, "you are another man's fiancé now. You... you belong to someone else."

Disbelief dripped off your features. This could not be happening.

"Beomgyu, you know I do not feel anything for him."

"Stop," Beomgyu muttered, his eyes averting from you again.

You shook your head hastily and walked up to the boy. "No! You know I do not love this man-"

"Yn, stop," he repeated, taking small steps back as if trying to hide from the horrible truth.

"The only man I love and will ever love is you!" You exclaimed, your voice now borderline hysterical as tears fell from your eyes.

"Stop it," Beomgyu barked just as you were going to touch him, and you staggered back, shock overtaking your features.

Never had Beomgyu raised his voice at you before. Never had his voice dripped such venom.

And never had he refused your touch.

The seconds you and Beomgyu stared at each other in silence felt like years. His eyes were ablaze and his chest heaved up and down with heavy, angry breaths.

Stop crying.

You straightened your back and raised your chin.

Stop crying, Yn.

You didn't bother wiping your eyes, but you did paint a void expression on your face.

Stop crying and become the princess you are. The princess you're supposed to be.

"Very well." Your voice was incredibly calm all of a sudden. "Then I will go."

"But you..." you raised your hand to point your index finger at him as you held his stare, "... you are a coward, Beomgyu. One I never knew you were."

With that, you exited the stables. And you decided you would not look over your shoulder to give him a last glance.

Sunlight pressed against your eyelids, awakening you from your short sleep.

After dismissing your servant last night, you cried for hours until the exhaustion from your heavy heart pulled you into a slumber full of nightmares.

You sat up on your bed, and the recollection of yesterday's events washed over you.

This wasn't how it could end. You couldn't allow the beautiful love you had with Beomgyu to end this way.

If it was up to you, you weren't planning on ending it at all.

But Beomgyu... Beomgyu had pushed you away. He yelled at you. He ordered you to leave.

Tears pooled in your swollen eyes once again.

You were angry with him. So incredibly angry he let go of you that easily, yelled at you like you meant nothing at all to him.

The Beomgyu you loved would never let things escalate like this, he would never want to hurt you.

Not unless he had a reason so good it was worth the pain that hurting you caused him.

A reason.

Your lips parted and your eyebrows furrowed together. Realization clicked in your mind like a match being lit.

And suddenly everything was clear as day.

You pushed yourself off your bed, your heartbeat speeding up. With quick but shaky hands you dressed yourself, not bothering to wait for your servant. There was no time to lose.

Having to act like nothing was wrong when walking through the large halls of the castle was a bigger struggle than you expected it to be.

There was no one who was able to control her emotions the way you could, on both the inside and the outside. Speaking in front of thousands and thousands of civilians? Nothing. Being scolded by your father, the king? Not a thing.

But when it came to Beomgyu... The moment something involved him, you became completely and utterly undone.

Swallowing the lump in your throat, you made your way outside and the moment the chilly air kissed your skin, you finally dared to pick up your pace.

How had you not realized this yesterday? How had you not noticed Beomgyu was trying to make things easier? Easier for you.

Losing someone you were angry with was easier than someone you loved. That was what Beomgyu had once told you many months ago when you were laying in his arms in the hay of the stables. He truly believed in that. And so he was trying to make you hate him now. Beomgyu believed it would make marrying the prince easier for you.

The thought had you almost stumbling over a patch of loose grass.

You could not bear the thought of Beomgyu thinking you hated him. Never in a million lifetimes could you hate Choi Beomgyu. And if you were to lose him, if he were to lose you, you wanted him to know you still loved him with every inch of your being.

Beomgyu wasn't allowed to think you loved him any less, or would ever love him any less.

Every thought entering your mind was scarier and more anxious than the one before and you didn't even notice you had been running until you threw open the doors of the stables.

Silence met your panting figure and your eyes flickered from left to right.

"Choi Beomgyu?"

Your anxious heart picked up its pace some more and you stepped inside.

"Beomgyu?"

Swallowing, you straightened your back. "Choi Beomgyu? I demand you to show your face!"

A rustle sounded from somewhere deeper in the stables and your eyes brightened when footsteps neared.

"Oh, Beomgyu, I need to-"

Your voice died down in your throat when sunlight hit the face of the person and you realized the man nearing was not Beomgyu. He was wearing similar clothes and was about the same height, but that was where the resemblance stopped with your lover.

The face of the boy morphed into one showcasing utter shock when he noticed whose presence he was in and he immediately dropped to one knee, lowering his face. "Oh, Your Majesty, my deepest apologies, I did not realize it was you."

His words did not get to you. A foggy wall of thoughts surrounded your entire mind.

"Who are you?" Your voice sounded far away.

"I-I am the new stable boy of the palace, Your Majesty. I started this morning," the boy rambled with his head still hung low.

A frown pulled your eyebrows down and you took a shaky step back.

It was your fingers that started trembling first, then your hands, and eventually your entire body followed with every step you took until your back hit the wall of the stables.

"I..." A ragged breath fell from your lips before you turned around and your feet seemed to start moving out of their own, back to the palace.

A feeling heavier, scarier, and darker than the worst anxiety you had ever felt penetrated your veins as you ran over the field.

Your servant, Rina, caught your panting figure when you entered the hall, and a worried expression painted her face. "Your Majesty?"

"Where is my father?” You almost barked, not being able to calm down even to your servant whom you were close with.

"What-"

"The king, where is he? Where is my father?" You repeated, now looking Rina in the eyes.

"He is in his office. Yn, what is wrong?" She whispered the last part, so no one else would hear her informal way of addressing you.

"Later," you breathed before making your way to the office of the king of the country.

You were aware you were acting unhinged, and you knew you were supposed to knock and ask for permission before entering any room your father was in, but your care for those formalities was nowhere to be found now.

The doors flew open when you burst through them, but surprisingly, it did not startle your father in the slightest bit.

As if he was expecting you.

"Why did you get the palace a new stable boy? Why replace our old one?" Your breathing was heavy.

"Yn," your father greeted you without looking up from the papers he was skimming through.

"Father, please answer my question."

"You asked two questions."

"Father!"

The six-foot-five man pushed himself off the chair and placed his hands on the desk, finally looking up at you.

"Yn, take a seat."

The stern look in his eyes held you from fighting back, and you sat down opposite of him. Folding your hands over each other, you tried to hide the shaking.

The king held eye contact with you and examined your every feature before slowly shaking his head.

"Oh, Yn, I was so convinced you were an intelligent young woman. So much knowledge about all sorts of things... and then you..." he sighed in disappointment.

“My daughter, did you really believe no one would find out?"

Freezing cold air wrapped itself around your body and squeezed until breathing became the hardest thing to do. You had to grip the edge of the table to not lose your balance.

Pretend, Yn. Pretend you don't know what he is talking about.

You couldn't. You were a canvas of emotions, out in the open, for anyone to see.

"Where is he?" you managed to whisper, your lips and mouth suddenly so dry that even talking became a struggle.

Your father stared at you with a stern expression on his face for what felt like an eternity, examining your every emotion until his eyebrows drew together. As if he found things he wasn't expecting to find in your eyes.

His own eyes softened.

"Oh, Yn... how could you have let it come this far."

"Father, answer me. Is he-"

The king nodded.

"He is in The Hold. The execution will be tomorrow morning."

No.

The words extracted all of the air left in your lungs and a hand flew to your mouth as bile rose in your throat.

No.

Shaking your head you pushed yourself up, the chair tumbling over and hitting the marble floor with a loud thud.

"A lie..." you breathed in disbelief. "You are lying."

With wide eyes you stepped back, feeling more nauseous with every second passing.

Please, no.

"Yn, you know the rules. A guard found out, and so if I do not take action, I will be breaking palace rules. I am the King-"

"I don't care that you're a king!" You squawked, startling even your father.

Your heavy breathing and shaking hands made the king frown in worry.

"You could be the ruler of the entire world and still...." You shook your head once more, "and still, father, I promise, all I will ever see in you is a monster if you proceed with this." The venom in your breaking voice made the king clench his jaw and look away.

"Yn, you know I can't change anything about this. You know it.”

You did.

You knew it.

"Take me to the hold."

Your father looked up at you and watched the tears you hadn't even noticed yourself roll over your cheeks.

"I do not want you to see him. Not... like this." His last words were almost too quiet for you to hear. Almost.

Your stomach churned and your knees turned into jelly, making you stumble on your legs.

"Take me to him. Now."

A long silence fell over the office and your father seemed to consider all his options before finally letting out a sigh.

"Guards. Take the princes to the hold."

With shaky legs, you descended the endless stairs of stone. The clicking of your heels coming in contact with the cold steps sounded like a ticking clock. And maybe that was what all of this was. A ticking time bomb, waiting to explode. Waiting for you to lose him forever.

Nothing felt real. A part of you was convinced that you were still sleeping, that this was a nightmare.

The droplets of water gliding down the stony walls and hitting the ground was the only thing you could hear the minutes you walked down the stairs. It was the only thing you could focus on to not completely lose your mind there and then.

There was no space or time for you to fall apart now. You had to see Beomgyu. You had to speak to him.

After what felt like an eternity, you reached the last step of the stairs and entered the place you had always hated the most in the palace. The Hold.

The guards were about to guide you to the prison cell Beomgyu was in when you halted your steps.

"Let me go alone."

Your voice was stern and cold, and the sentries knew not to disagree. So they nodded and took a step back.

The seconds of walking to the cell at the end of the Hold felt like walking through quicksand, and with every moment passing, fear grew inside of you.

You weren't ready to see him, not in the state he was going to be in.

But what you felt did not matter, because this was Beomgyu. The man you loved most. You needed to see him.

And so you finally took the last step.

Your body froze in place when your eyes fell on the boy, sitting in the corner of the cramped prison cell, knees pulled up to his chest and arms wrapped around them.

The blood in your veins seemed to solidify and your nostrils flared, tears immediately pooling your eyes.

Ever since the moment you were born, you never had an easy life.

At the age of seven you had to say goodbye to your grandma who had been your best friend since birth. Then, at the age of fifteen, you had lost the person dearest to you, your mother. And through all of this, you had to continue learning how to rule the country in the future, how to be the queen your people needed one day.

There was no option for you but to follow the orders you had been given your entire life, no space for you to decide what you wanted or didn’t want.

Your life was so decided for you, that you never felt any control over any action or decision you had to make—over anything that happened to you.

And so one day, at the age of eighteen, you decided you would take full power over the one thing no other human being was able to take control of: your feelings.

Thus after your mother’s death, you decided nothing and no one would ever be able to break you that bad anymore. You were determined to never let yourself love so much again—never let yourself become so vulnerable again.

You had been so convinced you would succeed in fullfilling those expectations of yourself.

But now, looking at your wounded lover in the dark vault of the palace, you realized that no experience, no determination, no nothing could’ve prepared you for the absolute agony you felt in this exact moment.

This was worse than the most horrifying nightmare you had ever seen. A million times worse.

Never had Beomgyu looked this small—this fragile and broken.

Though you couldn't see his face, his arms were visible due to the ripped long-sleeve shirt. Dark blue bruises and bloody wounds covered the pale skin, making your hands tremble.

With shaky steps, you neared the cell and it was only when you were in front of the cold bars, that Beomgyu noticed there was a new presence in the Hold.

And some selfish part of you wished he had never heard you. Because what came into your view when he looked up made your jaw drop and breathing hitch in your throat. You lost any strength left in your body and fell to your knees, not even feeling the hit on your skin as it came in contact with the hard floor.

"Yn?"

Immediate sobs fell from your mouth at the sound of his hoarse voice.

"God, Beomgyu," you croaked, not being able to believe what the guards had done to him.

Dried blood stuck to the corner of his lips and under his nose, a still open cut grazed his cheekbone and eyebrow. His left eye was almost completely closed due to the blue swelling.

"What have they done? What... What have I done?" You asked, more to yourself than to the boy in front of you.

"Yn, calm down," Beomgyu whispered as he dragged himself across the ground toward the bars where you were leaning against.

His soft voice only made your sobs grow louder, and your head started to pound so badly that you wondered if you were going to pass out here and now.

"My love, please don't cry." With steady hands, he grabbed yours through the bars and folded them over his lap. "It's alright."

Shaking your head hastily, you started repeating the word no like it was a mantra before inhaling sharply. "It's everything but alright. Nothing about this is alright. This cannot be happening, this has to be a nightmare."

Beomgyu looked at you with tears in his eyes and realized none of the bruises on his body or face hurt as much as his heart seeing you in this state. You were hysterical—losing it, almost.

"My love, my sweet girl, please steady your breathing, please," Beomgyu uttered, searching for your eyes. When he noticed he could not get to you, he let go of your hands and grabbed your face, forcing you to look at him.

Your eyes widened and your sobbing halted for a second, giving Beomgyu just enough time to bring you back to earth with his familiar dark eyes.

"My beautiful princess. Breathe in and out with me, alright? Can you do that for me?" He asked with an encouraging smile, and you pressed your lips together to hold back another cry before nodding.

The black-haired boy took a deep breath and raised his eyebrows at you—a sign for you to follow him.

Mirroring Beomgyu, you inhaled and exhaled deeply.

After a minute, the feeling you were about to have a heart attack started to die down, and you regained the ability to think and talk.

In silence, you stared at your lover and another tear rolled down your cheek. Beomgyu leaned forward and took your chin in his hand before bringing you closer to the bars—close enough to be able to kiss the tear away.

You closed your eyes at the feeling of his slightly chapped lips on your skin, savoring every second of it.

"I'm so sorry," you finally managed to whisper.

"What for, my love?" Beomgyu asked, shaking his head slowly as he took your hands in his own once more.

"For..." you shrugged, staring at the bruises on his arms and fighting the urge to start bawling again. "For everything they've done to you. For causing-"

"Stop." This was the sternest Beomgyu had sounded the entire time you were in the Hold, and it made you return your stare to his eyes.

"But this is my-"

"Yn, if you finish your sentence, I will not forgive you for saying that," he stated, not breaking eye contact.

"Never in your entire life will you have to apologize for allowing me to love you, for blessing me with the chance to feel your love," he shook his head, his eyes softening at the remembrance of your love, "I got to experience - feel - it all. Do you think I believed I would get it for free?" The question left an honest smile on his lips but brought the corners of yours down.

"And if death is the price I'm paying, then I can consider myself a lucky man," he finished, rubbing circles - or hearts - on the back of your hands.

The outer ends of your eyebrows drooped. "I don't understand... what could there be worse than death?"

The smile on Beomgyu's face grew and even reached his eyes. "Having to live without you."

You shut your eyes and let your head drop, not being able to look at him anymore as your shoulders started shaking. And in that moment you believed you would never stop crying again in your entire life.

Shuffling noises behind you indicated your time was almost over, and Beomgyu's eyes flickered to the guards behind you before returning to your small frame.

"I love you, my moon. My beautiful, bright, and wonderful moon," Beomgyu uttered, and if a voice could feel like a warm hug, it would be his voice, right there and then.

He brought your hands to his lips and pressed ten, twenty kisses on your knuckles.

"Gyu," you cried softly but Beomgyu only left more kisses on your hands and then on the inside of your wrists.

"Yn, look at me, please."

Slowly, you raised your head and looked at Beomgyu with bloodshot eyes, letting him know you were listening. Your eyelashes were stuck together and your dress was soaked due to the flood of tears, but you were listening.

"Promise me one thing."

"Anything," you rasped.

Beomgyu swallowed and fought to not let his eyebrows droop.

"You will move on."

Shaking your head, you exhaled. "But Beom-"

"No, Yn, you have to promise me. You have to promise me you will not blame yourself, promise me you will remember me with a happy and calm heart, promise me you will never feel guilty." He tightened his grip on your hands. He was begging.

"Yn, promise me you will move on."

Silence engulfed the Hold as your eyes took his face in, and with all your might you tried to paint him on a canvas in your mind, leaving out all the deformations the guards had caused on him. In the past years you had never dared to paint the boy due to the fear someone would find the painting.

But now he was facing the same fate he would've had if someone were to find the painting, and so in that moment, staring at Beomgyu in his prison cell, you regretted it. You regretted never painting him. You regretted it so much that you had no other option but to give Beomgyu the answer he deserved—the answer he needed.

"I promise."

Once the words left your mouth, Beomgyu exhaled and tears started falling from his eyes. But his eyes were not sad.

No, he was crying tears of relief, of happiness.

And so you continued. "I promise I will move on. I promise I will become happy again and I promise I will never forget you. I will remember you as a beautiful part of my existence. I will not remember you by your death."

Your death.

The words seemed to belong to someone else.

It could not be you saying these words, not to Beomgyu.

And still, it was you. And the words were addressed to Choi Beomgyu.

"Thank you so much, my princess," Beomgyu smiled, bringing your hands to his mouth once more to leave a long kiss. "Thank you for everything. I love you so much.”

"Beomgyu, I-"

"Princess, our apologies, but it is time to go. The king has ordered us to come and get you."

Your heart leaped and bile rose to your throat at the voice of the guard.

"No," you quietly breathed before repeating the word, this time louder.

"Princess-"

Your head cocked to the side to give the sentries a deadly glare. "No!" You barked.

But an order was an order. And so the sentries started walking up to you, causing you to hysterically grip the bars.

"Beomgyu!" you cried, pressing your face against the steel to be as close to him as possible for the last time.

Tears rolled down Beomgyu's bruised cheeks but with a calm hand, he softly stroked your wet cheek. "I love you," he whispered again. "I love you forever."

The guards gently placed their hands under your arms and the moment they started lifting you, you started screaming.

You were completely hysteric.

Because you knew.

This was the last time you would ever see your person.

Beomgyu pushed himself off the ground and took a step back, not being able to say anything anymore.

His sad eyes were on you as you kicked and yelled, trying with all your might to yank your body away from the guards and back to Beomgyu.

From that moment on everything seemed to become a blur. A dark, quiet, and foggy blur.

You remembered screaming your lover's name. And you remembered his eyes looking into yours, his hands gripping the bars, tears wetting his lips.

And you remembered the way your head was starting to become too heavy to hold up.

But just a couple of seconds before your body gave up on you and everything turned black in front of your eyes, you realized there was one thing you couldn't remember.

You could not remember telling Beomgyu you loved him back for the last time.

[loveliestfelix-recs]

the premise : u apply lipgloss on felix because ofc he suits glossy lips except it takes an emotional turn???? because felix is perfect sorry. this is fluffyyyy and the sanest reaction to this man being ur bf (and these pics. these pics....)

“lixie, stay still,” you giggle, body nestled between felix’s legs. He's leaning against the bathroom counter, hands propped on the sleek ebony marble as you apply a shimmering lip gloss to his lips.

“but don't you wanna know what changbin said to me?”

“of course i wanna know what creative pickup line he used on you today. of course i do, baby,” you smile and he rolls his eyes at the sarcasm dripping from your tone, his tongue poking against his cheek before gliding in (fake) annoyance over his lips.

“but…” he muses, tilting his head to the side, his hands finding your waist once again (they've been away for two minutes too long).

“but when your mouth moves i can't technically apply lipgloss to it.”

“maybe you're just a bad make-up artist,” he teases, before quickly planting a kiss on your temple. “kidding baby. you're the very best at everything you do.”

“you're actually incapable of being mean,” you laugh heartily, your thumb swiping across his chiseled jaw.

“i am very much capable of being mean,” he pouts, his eyes widening slightly, golden light spilling into his pupils— it refracts into an arrow delving straight into your heart.

“you can't say this in the softest voice and expect me to agree.”

“i am very much capable of being mean,” he repeats, only this time his timber is many many octaves lower. his voice reverberates straight through your stomach, a deep melody orchestrating the untamed butterflies in your stomach.

“this is the equivalent of a kitten throwing a punch to me,” you pull his face closer, and he shakes his head, mouth shut tightly as you reapply the glitter infused gloss on his lips, going delicately over his cupid's bow. his eyes are boring onto you, yet you don't shy away from his gaze. it is a kind one— like a blanket knitted with love thrown over your body.

“done,” you whisper, hands trailing up to his hair, blonde silky locks akin to threads of sunlight. you think he must be favored by the stars— how they stored the sun inside every component of his being for him to keep safe.

“you have the prettiest lips,” your voice is suddenly hoarse, thumb grazing slightly over his lips, ones shaped like a heart— akin to the one freckle he has right underneath his eye.

it wasn't enough for him to have the kindest soul, no, love needed to be etched onto his skin too.

“felix,” you rasp out his name.

he catches your tears before you sense them falling, swiping his thumbs delicately on your cheek. “angel?”

“you're an idiot.”

“am i?” he brings you to his chest swiftly, your nose buried in the orange blossoms and sea notes of his skin— your home, the one you'd recognize in blindness, in despair, in safety, in love.

“i wanted to apply this lipgloss on you because shimmer would suit your angelic lips and then we'd make out. but you just had to be so beautiful and pure that it makes me wanna cry.”

“I'm sorry,” he says and you giggle, more tears spilling from your eyes.

“see, this is what i mean. why are you apologizing. this is so silly and you're so perfect and i can't believe you love me.”

“well i do,” he leans away, kissing your forehead tenderly. the sticky lip gloss lingers on your skin. “i love you so much, angel. i will only ever love you.”

“promise me?” you ask in a feat of vulnerability almost foreign to your being.

“i promise.”

you believe him.

“thank you. please don't put this lipgloss near anyone else or it'll make them cry too.”

“i think that's just you baby,” he grins, his thumb swiping over your thigh comfortingly, then, his nose brushing against your own. “kiss?”

you close your eyes, a sigh of relief, of longing escaping your body. “please.”

to be loved by felix— maybe you're the one favored by the stars after all.

[loveliestfelix-recs]

UGHHH THIS IS WAY TOO CUTE AHH so soft and comforting🥺🥺 loveddddd this (but then again, when do I not love anything Duckie writes?)

𝐧𝐨 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬

hwang intak x gn!reader

1k words, hurt/comfort, soft things, mentions of anxiety/being overwhelmed, mentions of discomfort around family members, head kiss, intimacy

a/n: requests now closed! *sighs* i love him 🙁 thank you to the anon who requested this! hope this brings u comfort <3

He found you perched on the curbside outside the restaurant, the sounds of merriment muffled as the front door closed behind him. You glanced up from your phone to watch him take a seat beside you, his head tucked into a black beanie and hands coming out of his jacket pockets to rest behind him.

"I saw you leave a few minutes ago, but I wasn't sure if you wanted to be alone or not," Hwang Intak murmured and tilted his head in your direction, eyes glued to the establishment across the street to watch people pass by the window. "I'm okay, here, right? I can leave if you don't want me here."

You notched your phone off and set it under your thigh. "No, it's okay," you said, drawing circles on the street. "I just… couldn't stand being around them for too long."

He looked at you now, dark, round eyes really looking at you. Your posture was off, your hair covered your face. Everything about tonight was so off, and he was hitting himself in the head for not seeing it sooner. "I didn't know you were so uncomfortable around your relatives."

You had invited Intak to come to a holiday gathering with your family this evening. They had booked out the mom and pop shop on Main Street that served a taste of home. You'd originally been nervous about inviting him, since the two of you only recently became an item, but you should have never doubted him. Your family seemed to love him anyways, but then again, they always did seem to adore everyone but you. There was always something to complain about.

"Yeah, I mean…" you swallowed. You suddenly found it hard to look him in the eyes. Maybe you were embarrassed. Didn't he say he had a good relationship with his family and relatives? "They're just a little much for me sometimes and I get a little overwhelmed. I'm sure they mean well and stuff but I can't—sometimes I can only handle being around them in small doses."

Intak was quiet for a moment as he considered this, a frown flitting over his pretty features.

You covered your knees with your palms. "I'm sorry I pretty much ditched you, by the way," you added with a grimace. "That wasn't very cool of me."

"It's okay; you needed some air, and I get that."

He had said it so simply that you were almost stunned. He was being so understanding about this, and yet, you still felt awful. Here he was, someone you envisioned to be near perfect, and here you were… You cleared your throat, eyes pinned to the ground. "Thanks for being here tonight. I know it must have been intimidating to meet my entire extended family in one night."

He gave a warm chuckle that enveloped your body in an audible hug. "No worries, honey. I was actually really excited to just, I dunno, hang out with you for a holiday that was important to you."

Your heart soared, and you turned your head to look at him.

Intak pressed his lips into a smile. "And it doesn't matter if we're in there or out here—I get the overwhelming part, I really do. We can take it at your pace."

The two of you shared a smile. The cliché was always that actions spoke louder than words, and he had just wielded both of them in emphasizing his respect and consideration for you. It was Intak who was making your jitters decrease and your worries lessen. You suddenly focused less on trying to drown out the sounds of people in the building behind you, and instead, on the boy next to you.

When you sat in a moment of silence, you saw his hand inch towards yours on the pavement out of the corner of your eye. Your lips curled upwards in a small smile as you angled your fingers to touch his.

Your eyes met again. "It's okay to hold my hand, you know. I won't break."

His smile was bashful as he laced your fingers together with his and tested your interwoven hands on the sidewalk. He scooted over to you and you met him in the middle, until you could set your hands on your knees, legs and arms pressed together. "You know that I won't judge you for your hardships, whatever they are," he said to you, setting his free palm over your hands to warm them.

"I know," you whispered. You knocked your head against his shoulder affectionately, and he patted your hands in acknowledgment. "I just never know what to do with all of this anxiety and I've never really met anyone who I could trust with them."

Intak took his bottom lip between his teeth. "I'm sorry you've ever felt that way."

"You don't need to apologize. It's not your fault."

"I hope I never make you feel this way, if I can help it," he said to you with a slight pout. "We can learn how to take on your anxieties together, maybe?"

A smile wormed itself onto your face and you leaned your head on his shoulder now. "Stop being so cool."

He laughed, the sound soft, yet brighter than the lights from the surrounding restaurants. "I just care about you." His words warmed you again, and you felt his lips press against the crown of your head.

"I know," you said quietly. "I care about you, too. Thank you."

"You don't have to thank me," he hummed. "Know any good dessert places around here? We can get ice cream and then come back in time to say goodbye?"

It was like he was a mind-reader. You made a comment about a favorite gelato place just down the block, and the two of you wasted no time in dusting your pants and setting off down the street. He never let go of your hand—only letting the pair swing between your bodies as he made you smile again and again and again.

p1h m.list

permanent taglist: @flwoie @vatterie @seomisaho @hqrana @ja4hyvn @kaaimins @shakalakaboomboo @bless-311 @leaz-kpop-life @pxppxrminty @fluorescentloves @mosviqu @haechansbbg @kflixnet @http-gyu @mvvnsseul @outrologist

[loveliestfelix-recs]

How to show emotions

Part I

How to show annoyance

slightly shaking their head

rolling their eyes

looking to the side

closing their eyes for a moment

sighing

taking a deep breath

clucking their tongue

huffing

crossing their arms in front of their chest

tapping their foot

How to show hurt

turning away

avoiding eye contact

closing eyes

lips pressed together

eyes filled with tears

breathing deeply

How to show anger

clenching their fists

pressing their lips on each other

breathing loudly through their nose

eyes getting smaller

clenching their teeth

clenching their jaw

looking away to calm themselves

speaking with clenched teeth

whole body is tense

screaming

throwing things around

stomping

moving around a lot, can’t keeping still

open body language, like they are ready to attack

frown wrinkles on their forehead

prominent veins

grabbing someone they are angry with to get them to understand why they are angry

becoming violent

non-stop talking, ranting

shaking their head

throwing their arms in the air

eyes either going from one point to another while ranting or completely fixating on the person they are angry with

How to show excitement

jumping up and down

not being able to stand still

clapping their hands

bright eyes

grinning

squealing

giggling

flushed face

bouncing

dilated pupils

tapping their foot

How to show boredom

biting nails

leg bouncing

sighing

playing with everything close by

twiddling your thumbs

spinning around

grumbling

staring into the distance

propping your head on your hand

Part II + Part III

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[loveliestfelix-recs]

u guys imagine u are so tired and as soon as u get home hyunjin scoops you up in his arms and leads you to bed and then he's hugging you so tight and pressing the softest kisses to your shoulder and the back of your head,, and he knows ur head must hurt so he's massaging your temple gently and the pressure is so featherlight coupled with his sweet voice telling you that he's so proud of you and you are doing so well, and then he's grazing your forehead with his lips and your eyelids and the corner of your mouth and just surrounding you in so much warmth and you feel at home in his arms and oh god you can finally breathe again

and when u'll go to sleep your head will be on his lap as one hand threads through your hair, and the other sketches absentmindedly on his notebook because he knows the sound of the pen again paper soothes you,,, coupled with the comforting scent of the candles he ofc lit up, after making you dinner and just being the softest most gentle human to you, because he loves you and it's the least he could do. you'll end up crawling up because nothing beats laying on his chest and hearing his heartbeat, and he smells so nice and his body is so warm and he won't stop humming gently till u fall asleep

[loveliestfelix-recs]

𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐞・l.f.

— five times you want to tell your best friend you love him + the time you finally do.

・𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗱𝘀: 7.7k ・𝗽𝗮𝗶𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴: idol!felix x gn!reader ・𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀: contains swearing, alcohol consumption, mentions of anxiety, you're just kind of a mess tbh but it's ok bc so is he ・𝗴𝗲𝗻𝗿𝗲(𝘀): fluff, angst, best friends to lovers, mutual pining, semi-slow burn w/a happy ending, 5+1 trope, idiots in love and also afraid of love, you do the math

・𝗮/𝗻: i borrowed the title of this beautiful day6 song for this fic; give it a listen if you can (especially while reading part four). happy late birthday, lix <3333 thank you for being you

𝟎𝟏. The door to the café opens with a soft jingle, bringing a chilly draft into the room and causing you to draw your scarf tighter around your shoulders.

Theoretically, you come here to study—but people-watching has become a simultaneous pastime. There was that couple with a pair of samoyeds, so fluffy that they looked like walking clouds; a mother and son, hunched over their croissants, arguing in a classic “don’t cause a scene in public” tone; an elderly woman in bicycle shorts asking for extra shots of espresso in the menu’s most caffeinated item.

And now, there is him.

“Hello,” the ashy-haired stranger says to the barista with a quick, polite bow. “May I have a medium caramel latte? Hot, with sweetener, please. Thank you.”

His voice reminds you of the notes of a cello, of the feeling of running your fingers through tufted velvet. When he turns away from the counter, he’s slipping a card back into his wallet, and you catch a glimpse of long lashes and a scattering of freckles. You cannot see his face, as it’s covered by a black mask, but that only propels the question further: who are you?

And perhaps it is destiny herself who hooks a gentle finger beneath the stranger’s chin and tilts his head upwards, because when he inadvertently steps into a patch of sunlight, his brown irises illuminate like molten amber, and they are fixed upon you.

You feel your lips part, your stomach turn. You don’t know if your cheeks are so warm because of your piping hot tea (your third one today) or because of the newfound eye contact with someone so ethereal.

But you are sure that the corners of the stranger’s eyes crinkle ever so slightly, as if his lips have just curved into a smile beneath his mask.

“Felix,” the barista calls, and you turn the name silently on your tongue.

Maybe you are exhausted from work and not thinking straight. Maybe you are more starved for change than you’ve ever been. Or maybe you’re just prophetic. But you think you sense forever in this man, with his freckled cheeks and pretty eyes.

That is the first time you want to tell Lee Felix you love him.

𝟎𝟐. The second Felix comes into your line of vision, you sense that something is wrong.

You hold up a hand in greeting, and the smile he returns is sincere but muted, as if it pains him to move, to breathe. He sounded weary on the phone earlier—can I see you tonight? Just for a bit—but only now that he’s in front of you do you see the extent of his fatigue, seeping into his sunken shoulders and lightless eyes.

“Hi,” he says once he’s close enough.

“Hey, you,” you answer, rising out of your seat. Instinctively, he extends his arms toward you, and you draw him into a hug that is fleeting and familiar. He smells faintly of laundry detergent and vanilla, and it makes something within you ache, like an oyster searching for its absent pearl.

When you pull away, your hands move to your best friend’s cheeks, cocooning his face so you can get a better look at him. Even under the sparse streetlights, you see that his eyes are slightly bloodshot, the shadows beneath them deep and sullen. Has he been crying? 

“Bad day?” You ask, your hands falling back to your sides.

“The worst,” he returns with a weak smile. 

“Wanna take a walk?”

“Yes, please. How long do I have you for?”

This is what you do when your schedules are too packed for you to make real plans: take strolls wherever is most convenient, for however long either of you can spare. Sometimes that’s five minutes, sometimes five hours. But you know that you need to be here for him tonight.

“As long as you need me,” you say.

You turn around to pick up your drinks (a decaf caramel latte for Felix and a black milk tea for yourself), and you don't see the way his smile comes back a little bigger the second time, the way his cheeks warm slightly under the moonlight.

There’s a small park a few blocks behind your apartment. Granted, it's not a very good park, with only a tiny, sad playground and very little foliage, but it is an excellent stargazing spot, due to it being so dark and desolate. You and Felix decide to head there now, your arms touching as you walk through the quiet residential area.

Ten minutes later, blades of grass are poking the back of your head, and directly above you is a sea of scattered stars, flickering like millions of faulty flashlights. Felix’s voice is leaden when he starts to speak, breaking the park’s fragile silence.

He tells you about his fears, about how earlier today they overwhelmed him so much that he wanted to lock himself away from the world and throw away the key. He tells you about his dreams, about how even in his relentless pursuit of them they sometimes still feel as amorphous and unattainable as fragments of mist.

The way he always does when he’s around you, Felix spills parts of himself that he never thought he could entrust to anyone. And you don’t say a word, your knee leaning against his, listening, understanding. (But you wish you could tell him a lot of things: that you care for him more than you ever believed yourself capable; that you hope for his happiness more than your own; that you don’t have the words to heal him, but you would give anything to find them.)

By the time the two of you leave the park, it’s almost midnight, and the streets have fallen silent save for the occasional whoosh of car wheels on cement and the distant lamentations of cricket choirs. You’re making small talk now, and Felix is smiling a little easier. It seems your conversation worked in cheering him up; a temporary fix, you’re sure, like a bandaid where stitches should be, but seeing his eyes crinkle and hearing his laugh again is enough to soothe your worry for the rest of the night, at the very least.

“You’re sure you’ll be okay going back yourself?” You ask once the two of you reach the entrance to your apartment building.

“Yeah, of course.” Felix touches the back of his neck apologetically. “I’m sorry I kept you out so late.”

“Nonsense, Lix. I’m always here for you.”

Felix averts his eyes to his shoes, and you’re caught off guard by his facial expression: exhausted but contemplative, and possessing a sense of tenderness. It is a look that you don’t think you’ve seen before, and you feel your heartstrings pull at its unfamiliarity, its strange softness.

You say your goodbyes, but your "let me know when you get home safe" is cut short when you feel a hand catch your wrist, just as you’re entering the building.

How Felix doesn’t notice your frantic pulse beneath his touch is beyond you, but instead he parts his lips, and his next words resound in your mind as you try and fail to fall asleep that night.

“I can’t explain why, or how—but I feel braver when I’m with you, Y/N. I meant to tell you that earlier.”

And those three words rush to your mind fleetingly, like saltwater crashing against the shores of your mind. Even when the tide has subsided, they remain on the sand, waiting to be read aloud.

“Thank you,” Felix mumbles, “for everything.”

You don’t read out those words, of course. Instead, you reach up to squish Felix’s face and call him a sentimental dork, to which he rolls his eyes affectionately and bats you away, and the moment is over. But when you turn to go, your heart is pounding so loudly that your reply may as well have been a confession.

𝟎𝟑. You sink into your mattress, careful to keep your tea within your mug’s rim, and let out a hybrid of a groan and a sigh that is strikingly reminiscent of an old man lowering himself into a worn armchair.

You can’t remember the last time you had a cold this terrible. It feels as if your lungs took a plunge in a vat of wet cement and then rolled around in gravel immediately afterward. And it’s got you in the mood to do nothing but listen to the heavy drops of rain knocking against your window, curl up with a good show and a hot drink, and bask in your own congestion.

But then your phone, which you left in the bathroom, emits four deafening notification sounds, and you haul yourself back out of bed with a groan-sigh that’s twice as anguished as the last.

When you reach the hellish device, your best friend’s name greets you, and your ire dissipates momentarily.

From: Lix 🐣 Hey hey From: Lix 🐣 We still on for dinner tonight? From: Lix 🐣 Just gonna be me, Minho, Seungmin. Jeongin has a vocal lesson From: Lix 🐣 Please don’t play the “if Jeongin doesn’t go neither do I” card again I’ve had enough of it!!! ENOUGH

You let out a throaty laugh that sounds like one of Minho’s cats battling a hairball, heading back to bed.

From: Y/N 🌙 ahhhh i meant to text you earlier, but i have the worst cold From: Y/N 🌙 no clue how or why i caught it but i feel like fucking shit. it’d be a bad idea for me to come over right now From: Y/N 🌙 sorry :( can we raincheck in a few days? From: Y/N 🌙 (that way jeongin can come too!!!)

Felix dislikes this last text, and you snort into your tea.

From: Lix 🐣 Yeah, of course. Don’t apologize From: Lix 🐣 Do you need anything? You’re eating and sleeping well, yeah? From: Y/N 🌙 sleeping, YES.  From: Y/N 🌙 eating, not really 😅 but i don’t have much of an appetite anyways From: Y/N 🌙 don’t worry about me. i’ll be raring to go in a day or two

Felix starts to type a response, but the gray dots disappear after a bit, and you set your phone face-down on your nightstand. He probably has to get back to work, and you have to get back to your episode.

Slowly, the soporific fragrance of chamomile and the lull of relentless rain start to weigh on your eyelids, and you slump unconsciously into your makeshift fortress of blankets, your show playing to nobody.

Night has fallen by the time the door of your apartment clicks open, and Felix pokes a head into your dark kitchen, cautiously calling out your name. When you don’t respond, he slips inside and moves to your kitchen counter, where he unloads the bags in his arms. A spare key to your place dangles from the opening of his hoodie pocket. 

There’s a quiet knock on your bedroom door, another call of your name—infinitely softer this time, like how one would speak to a dove. But Felix finds you out like a light, even when he closes your laptop and puts it on your desk, checks your temperature with a gentle hand to your forehead. It feels normal enough to let you sleep, but warm enough that he brings a glass of water and two pills of ibuprofen to your nightstand, placed within your reach, should you wake up in the middle of the night needing them.

Using only the slivers of light coming in from the hallway, Felix allows himself to look at your sleeping form. Your breathing is callous but steady; your face pallid but peaceful. And if only you'd seen see the tiny, helpless smile that pulls at his lips; if only you'd heard the pulse protesting against his skin, yelling at him “do something about this, you fucking idiot, and do it soon."

But you don’t see or hear anything; you just speak, instead.

“Stay with me,” you whisper, and Felix’s hand freezes on your doorknob, his eyes widening in the darkness. “Please?”

There is a lengthy period of nothing, during which neither of you makes another noise; there is only the sound of your clock ticking, raindrops rushing against the windows, and Felix’s heart in his ears.

And then he moves.

“C'mere,” Felix murmurs once he’s lying down next to you, and you nestle into his embrace as easily as if you've always belonged there, your face burrowing into the crook of his neck, your arms winding around his waist, searching for him, asking for him.

Felix has always expressed his affection for people through touch, and you’ve gotten used to his constant hand on your shoulder, his leg resting against yours. But he thinks this is the first time you’ve initiated physicality outright, and he feels a concerned pang in his chest at your unexpected vulnerability. He lifts a hand to cradle the back of your head, running his fingers through your hair.

“Gonna get you sick,” you say with a wet sniffle, your voice muffled against him. And Felix presses a kiss to the top of your head, perhaps without thinking as much as he should have; but who can blame him for forgetting to think when he’s holding you the way he is?

“Don’t care,” he answers readily. “I'm not going anywhere.”

At some point before you fall back asleep, you think your mouth actually forms the words I love you, subtly and silently and into the fabric of his hoodie. But you resume your slumber before you can think more of it. (Felix waits until your breathing is steady again, checks your temperature one more time; and only afterward does he allow his eyes to close.)

The next morning, you wake to an empty bed and a Post-It note explaining that Felix had to run to a recording session: Check your kitchen! See u soon x. Accompanied by a small, messy doodle of a baby chick popping out of its egg.

Your face melts into a smile when you see that the fridge is chock-full of fresh groceries and the pantry has been restocked with your favorite snacks, including a batch of Felix’s world-famous sea salt brownies—accompanied by another note with another doodle, this time a crescent moon wearing your sneakers. Sugar is prolly bad for you rn. Pls have in moderation!

When you pull out your phone to thank him for everything, you see his remaining texts from yesterday—and you feel momentarily empty, as if only then noticing that you've been missing a fraction of your soul your whole life.

From: Lix 🐣 I’ll drop by tonight to check on you From: Lix 🐣 Wait for me, okay?

And he is right in front of you, just out of reach.

𝟎𝟒. “This isn’t a bad idea, right?” Chan asks under his breath.

“Nah, they’ll be fine,” Minho replies, clapping a hand on the leader’s shoulder. “Y/N will take care of him.”

A loud yelp comes from up ahead, and the men whip around quickly enough to crack a joint—only to realize that the noise was the opening note of DAY6’s “Not Mine,” and you and Felix have just launched into song so terribly and so loudly that it’s probably awoken the entirety of Seoul.

“And who’s gonna take care of Y/N?”

The two men look at each other for a moment before deciding they’re not interested in talking the two of you out of a disorderly intoxication charge. 

“Let me know when you get back!” Chan hollers after you, and they reenter the karaoke bar in a hurry.

The members decided to go out for karaoke after finishing promotions earlier that week, and Felix invited you to come along. And you might've gone a little overboard with the mango sake, but your level of tipsy is nothing compared to that of the blue-haired boy draped over you.

Felix is rather prone to hangovers, you’ve discovered from past experiences, so the moment he started speaking in some kind of nonsensical Korean-English mutation that not even Chan could understand, the members tasked you with taking him home early. Now, Felix has his arm around your neck, less out of affection and more out of a genuine requirement for support, doing his best to walk in a straight line. He hasn't stopped grinning for the last hour, and it doesn’t seem like he’s going to run out of energy anytime soon, not as long as there’s more of DAY6’s discography to butcher.

In spite of your foggy mind, you're well aware that your best friend has never been prettier. He sets the bar high as it is, but then you throw in the flushed lips and cheeks, the lopsided, ditzy grin, the wine-kissed complexion, and life becomes terribly difficult for you. It doesn’t help that alcohol amplifies his proclivity for physical contact—he's been attached to your hip all night, holding your waist, pulling you into incidental hugs.

Needless to say, your current situation is a bit precarious; but you don't know that. Not yet.

The two of you finish your disrespectful rendition of “Not Mine” just as you pass the apartment’s front desk, and it is only when you see the deadly look that the receptionist gives you over the brim of his glasses that you finally feel sober again. You have the sense to incline your head in apology. Felix, however, launches into “You Were Beautiful” without a care in the world.

You dig a pointed elbow into his ribs as you hit the up button, and his singing abruptly falters with a pained huff. "Ow."

“Take an intermission, superstar,” you say. “The receptionist looks like he’s ready to throttle us.”

“Ah, he would never. We’re tight,” he returns, and before you can stop him he’s lifting his head, raising his voice. “Have a good night, Mr. Seo!”

Your nose scrunches into an apprehensive wince—but instead, you think you hear a hint of a smile in the man's cool reply.

“You too, Mr. Lee. Keep your voices down, please.”

“Yes, sir!” You and Felix reply in unison. Felix gives you a smile that says I told you so before he nestles his cheek against your shoulder, and you shake your head. Nobody is immune to the boy’s brightness.

Entering the building seemed to be effective in calming Felix down. The elevator ride up is silent save for a bit of quiet humming, and you finally see a bit of sleep on his face when you open the door of his dorm and turn on the living room lights. He lets you escort him to his bathroom without a word.

“I’ll be here if you need me,” you say, reaching to pat his cheeks a couple times. “Be careful in there.”

“M’kay. Thank you," he says with a drowsy smile, and closes the door.

You pull out your phone and open up your messages with Chan, remembering his parting request.

To: Chan 🐺 we got back safe!! To: Chan 🐺 lix is gonna be okay. i'll take care of him

A few minutes later, a notification appears at the top of your screen; Chan left hearts on both of your messages and sent two in response.

From: Chan 🐺 Thanks, good to hear :) you get some rest too, okay? From: Chan 🐺 Bro tore that sake UP

You begin to type back a retort—give me a break it was basically JUICE—when you hear Felix call your name, his voice muffled through the bathroom door.

“What's up?” You answer.

“I think I’m...stuck.”

Now what the hell does that mean?

“Can I come in?”

“Mhm.”

You open the door, and your attempt to suppress your laughter fails with flying colors. Felix is well and truly stuck in his crewneck, the gray material swathed around his head, his arms positioned in some kind of advanced pretzel formation.

“You are a hot mess, Lee Yongbok," you sing, moving toward him, and he whines from inside his cotton prison.

“Please don’t kick me while I’m down.”

Grinning, you bring your fingers to the hem of his top and attempt to lift it over his head. He’s managed to tangle himself quite impressively, and the next few minutes are spent with you trying to extract him, like he’s that one nose hair that your tweezers have never been able to reach, all while he's moaning and groaning about the fabric catching on his earrings, about his joints not being able to handle this kind of pressure anymore.

He emerges from the crewneck a while later looking positively disgruntled. You toss the gray mass onto the counter, proud of your handiwork.

“So maybe I‘m a hot mess,” he concedes. “A little bit.”

“That's alright. We all have our moments,” you giggle. “Come on, let me help you with your jewelry.”

For a second, he looks like he’s about to protest—but the look you give him reminds him that his motor functions are currently on strike.

“Okay,” he mumbles adorably.

You position yourself a little closer to Felix and lift your hands to the nape of his neck, where the clasp of his chain lies. It takes you a few tries to undo it, and you end up having to use the mirror above the sink for guidance. Soon, there is a soft click. You set the chain down next to the crewneck before your hands return to the sides of his face, this time to tuck long, light blue strands behind the cuffs of his ears. Your fingers run over the curves of his silver earrings.

“Are these bothering you at all?” You ask nonchalantly. “I forgot you had so many piercings.”

In your peripheral vision, you see Felix’s lips move, but no sound comes out. Puzzled, you move your eyes to meet his, and it takes you one blink’s worth of time to understand the source of his speechlessness.

Somewhere between your reaching up to touch his necklace and the present moment, you’ve come incredibly, dangerously close to him. Close enough that you can count the freckles that speckle his skin like fallen stars, that you can feel the heat of his body against your own, that Felix’s eyes are nearly crossed trying to maintain eye contact with you.

Your heartbeat lodges itself firmly in your throat, and your thoughts evaporate into complete and utter disarray. There are three differently-worded apologies on the tip of your tongue within seconds. You immediately start to pray that he won’t remember this tomorrow morning. And your strongest impulse is to move; to get as far away from him as possible, before either of you does anything you'll regret.

But there is something that overwhelms your every instinct, and stops you from budging an inch. And that is the way Felix is looking at you, unblinking brown eyes filled with something that doesn’t have a name. It is the same tender expression that’d surprised you the first time you saw it, and it is with a spiraling stomach that you finally realize what that expression is.

You reach your conclusion a second after he does.

Felix’s hand lifts to cradle your jaw, his face moving closer to yours. Your foreheads touch, wisps of his hair falling over the bridge of your nose, your senses engulfed by the vanilla of his cologne and the touch of sweet wine on his breath. The scene is as delicate as a dragonfly’s tail dipping into a pond’s surface; even a minuscule disturbance would shatter this limbo instantaneously.

A part of you wishes that it would, but nothing does. There is only his pulse, perceptible through the thin cloth of his tank top, vehement beneath your fingertips—and your heart, naked and frail, sitting upon the palm of his hand.

Felix doesn’t push you away; he doesn’t kiss you. He does something far worse.

“I love you,” he whispers.

A few seconds. That is how long you stand there for, with every word of every language you know inaccessible, every qualm and doubt and source of anxiety that plagued your mind moments before now distant memories, every ounce of your energy channeled into keeping yourself upright.

But the few seconds feel like forever. The same way he has always felt like forever to you. The same way you imagined you would spend forever loving him, close enough for him to love you back, but far enough that he’ll never know the true nature of your affection: greater and truer than anything anyone would ever call friendship.

An urgent question suddenly surfaces in your mind: is he still drunk? He was falling up, down, and sideways minutes ago. Surely this was an intoxicated slip of the tongue. But you discern the slight tremble to Felix’s breathing and the intensity in his heavy-lidded gaze, all far too intentional, far too conscious to be wine-induced—leaving behind one impossible possibility.

You should be having your happy tears kissed from your face right now. You should be over the moon, relishing in the sensation of two stars aligning at long fucking last, the way you’ve dreamed of since the very first time you laid eyes on Felix.

But instead, you just feel inexplicably and profusely afraid.

You won’t remember the specifics of the next few minutes. You think you stumble away from him and whisper I’m sorry through watering eyes, though you don’t really know what for. He sputters something in return, his tone so desperate and confused that you feel your heart break to pieces on the spot. You apologize again, leave the bathroom, and move towards the apartment door as if your life depends on it. In your peripheral vision, you notice the crease of concern on Mr. Seo’s face when you stalk past him, tears now flying freely down your cheeks. You run into Minho and Jeongin when you step out of the building, and you see the worry that creases their faces, hear their voices calling your name. Jeongin's hand closes around your wrist—are you okay?! What the fuck happened?—but you do not, can not say anything, not right now.

And then you are alone again, and you briskly walk the two miles back to your apartment. Your mind and heart are every bit as foggy as the somber night sky that hangs over your head.

𝟎𝟓. When the two of you step out of the restaurant and into the evening, Felix turns around to face you, launching into his best tour guide walk.

“And, with that,” he says with a glowing smile, “we are nearing the end of our tour of Sydney.”

“Noooo,” you lament, reaching your arm out. Felix falls back into step beside you and links it with his, the movement like clockwork. Your jackets scrunch up together where your elbows bend. “Already?”

“Okay, the tour’s been going on for two days and you haven’t paid a cent for my toil. Don’t push your luck.”

Your laughter spills into the otherwise quiet avenue, the setting sun throwing shadows across the cement, but it always feels like midday when you the brightest man in the world is by your side.

When the two of you discovered you had a free weekend on the same days, Felix conjured up the idea of going home—and suggested that you go with him. You’d freaked out for a bit, but then Felix reminded you that his mom texts you on your birthday and that you’re on multiple different subscription plans with his sisters, and you collected yourself quite quickly. There was a lot of cheering over the phone when Felix informed his family that they’d finally get to meet you in person.

But such a fast trip to the other side of the world proved to be no easy feat. Felix took on the task of piecing together a travel plan that would cover most of his favorite spots in forty-eight hours. The last two weeks were filled with him fretting over the details and you fretting over him, asking time and time again if you could help with anything, only for him to shoo you away with a single hand and a pointed “you are my guest. Now leave me.”

With assistance from every other resource at his disposal, though, he pulled it off, and the weekend has been wonderful thus far.

“I think that was some of the best food I’ve ever had, seriously,” you hum. “I’ll be dreaming about those appetizers for the rest of my life.”

“I'm glad. It took a Socratic seminar to choose the place, after all."

(The Socratic seminar in question: a two-hour FaceTime call and an intense match of rock-paper-scissors between him and his siblings, aimed to decide on where Felix would take you for dinner the second night. Only for his mom to ignore all of their efforts and insist upon her own choice of restaurant instead—no ifs, ands, or buts.)

“We have to try your sisters’ recommendations the next time I visit, don’t we?”

“Yes," he returns, shuddering. "I think my family is done for if we don’t."

He has one place left to take you, and the two of you head there now, shoulder to shoulder, arm in arm.

A month has passed since that night.

You’ve tried with every fiber of your being to put the whole thing from your mind, of course to no avail. You see Felix’s flushed lips and gentle gaze every time you blink; you hear his “I love you” every time you’re alone, the words whispered in the wind and dragged over the earth, in tandem with your footsteps.

You wanted to fucking die of awkwardness in the few days following, but it was never an option for you to avoid Felix for long. The two of you still went on convenience store runs together; still met up for coffee before work; still continued your business as usual, against all odds. And you owed it all to Felix and how he knows you better than you know yourself. He didn’t try to talk to you when he sensed that you had nothing to say; nor did he try to bring you back when you felt miles away. He would just silently slip a pack of your favorite cookies into your grocery basket or order your drink on your behalf.

Felix had questions and wanted answers; there was no doubt about that. But he held his tongue, granted you as much space as you needed to come back to him. And you did, in your gradual, meticulous way.

You’re finally going to bring it up tonight. You’ve planned to since the day you confirmed the trip, and you hope that the final stop of the tour will be the perfect place to bite the bullet.

“We’re here,” Felix says.

The two of you have arrived at the bank of a wide river, and you’re at a temporary loss for words. To your right is a bridge that spans the distance of the water, and to your left is a stunning, panoramic view of the city of Sydney. Twilight has turned the buildings into dark silhouettes against the autumn sunset, and the water reminds you of a palette of oil paints with how it reflects the pinks and oranges in the sky.

Felix feels you tighten your hold around his arm, and he smiles when he sees the wonder in your eyes. He wishes he could see this place for the first time again.

“Not bad, huh?”

“No,” you murmur. “Not at all.”

“C’mon.”

Felix leads you to the center of the bridge, where he props his elbows atop the metal railing and looks over the water. You join him and pull out your phone, but no settings or adjustments render your camera capable of capturing the landscape's beauty.

(Until Felix throws up a peace sign and pokes his head into the corner of your frame. Then it stands a fighting chance.)

“What is this place?” You ask, your shoulder touching his when you also lean over the railing. “Why are we the only ones here?”

“Crazy, right?” Felix says proudly. “I dunno. I think it might be private property, or something. But it’s only a few blocks away from my house and on the way I used to take to school, so I used to come here all the time, always around this time of day.”

Felix’s gaze moves over the sky, oblivious to the fact that his eyes hold whole rainbows of their own.

“There was never anyone around, but I could still hear the birds chirping and the wind in the leaves. It felt like a corner of the world had been sealed off just for me. I’m glad to see that nothing’s changed.”

Some time passes, and Felix tells you more stories about this peculiar bridge: how he asked someone to formal and got rejected and came here to reflect on his actions; how he had to take two different buses every day because his school was so far away from his house, but he always stopped here to feed the families of mallards that came out to swim in the mornings, even if it meant he’d be late; how this was the last place he went to before moving to South Korea, because he knew he’d miss this nook of Sydney most.

Of all the places you've visited, you think this one will remain with you longest. As time elapses, the colors of the sunset augment and deepen, dyeing the world in ways that remind you of the aurora. And then there is the man, wearing a gentle smile to match his softened features, his voice to your ears what honey is to a sore throat, telling you about his past, letting you into yet another chamber of his soul.

You are in no way prepared to butcher the sanctity of this moment, but you know that you can only run for so long and so far. You owe it to him. You owe it to yourself.

When the sun’s final rays are clinging the faraway mountaintops, Felix lifts himself off the railing and stands up straight. “Ready to go home?"

And your hand finds his, the pads of your fingers cold against his skin. Felix is surprised at first, but then he sees the hint of sadness in your eyes and the tension in your shoulders, and he understands what’s coming.

“I want to talk to you about that night,” you say.

Felix doesn’t respond for a few seconds. But when he does, his voice is so soft and so infuriatingly kind that hearing it makes you want to sob.

“...you don’t have to, Y/N.”

“No. I do,” you return, startling even yourself with the firmness in your voice, "I don’t want to keep dancing around the topic, not when you’ve been waiting for as long as you have.”

You feel Felix’s gaze on your face, as if he’s trying to read between your lines, and then he yields with a slight incline of his head.

“Okay.” And the stage is yours.

You don't start talking right away, your mind reeling with the effort to organize everything you feel and verbalize everything you want to tell him. It isn’t until Felix gives your hand a gentle squeeze—you’ve forgotten that you’re still holding his—that you feel rooted in the moment again.

It’s Felix you’re talking to; your soulmate, your sunlight. Nothing you are about to say will ever change that. This, you believe with every fiber of your being. 

So you take a deep breath.

“When you said those words,” you begin, and the words sound alien in your voice, despite how many times you’ve rehearsed this conversation in your head, “I couldn’t process a thing. I was so happy, but I was so, so scared. I’ve spent the last month trying to figure out why I was so scared, and I can’t say that I know for sure yet, but I have a much better idea now, and—it’s a lot of things.

“For as long as I can remember, I have only ever been able to love profoundly and deeply, with everything in me. And over time, I led myself to believe that nobody would ever be able to understand or reciprocate my love, not in the manner I want most.”

You feel yourself starting to waver, but you find strength in his touch.

“But you changed that, Felix. You walked into that café that afternoon with your voice and your smile, and suddenly I’d found you—someone who experiences life the way I do, who loves the way I love. And every day since, I’ve been surrounded by you and your effortless warmth and your beautiful soul. It was only a matter of time before I started hoping, constantly and stupidly, that you would one day love me, the same way that I—”

Your voice catches in your throat like a heel slamming into car brakes, “love you” hanging so dangerously from the tip of your tongue that you’re stunned it doesn’t fall out right away.

“But that’s why I’m fucking terrified,” you go on. “When you told me you loved me, I felt like I could fly. But I also felt like I was falling—and maybe this is because I was still tipsy, I'm not really sure—but in that moment I saw a world where we weren't there to catch each other, where something had gone horribly wrong and I'd wake up one morning and you’d—you’d just be a distant memory.

“And that was the thought that shook me so badly: losing you. Leaving you.” You’re crying now, tears paving golden trails against your cheeks. “For whatever reason, that was the first thing that came to mind, and it broke me.”

You need to wrap it up, and fast, if your faltering voice and racing heart are any indication.

“I meant it when I apologized to you that night. I’m sorry, Lix. I’m sorry I made everything so fucking complicated. I’m sorry that I ran away. I’m sorry that I hurt you, or worried you. But I want you to know that I feel more for you than you will ever understand; I just need a little more time to put it into words. So, wait for me—”

Your eyes squeeze shut, and you finally cave, your last word coming out in a shattered rasp.

“—please.”

And the syllable has barely left your mouth when Felix lets go of your hand, only to bring his arms around you and pull you to his chest with such urgency that the breath momentarily leaves your lungs.

When you fall against him, you fall entirely apart. You have no idea where all the feelings are coming from, only that they’re suddenly overwhelming your every sense. And you start to cry, really cry, your fingers seeking refuge in his jacket, in his hair. 

The sun departs at last, and night starts to fall. You lose track of how long you remain in this position, shaking with hushed sobs, fighting to regain control of your emotions. But Felix stays with you through it all, muted tears of his own intermingling with yours in the material of his scarf. He holds you carefully yet fiercely, like you really will crumble if he lets go.

And he waits, because of course he does. He would wait lifetimes for you.

𝟎𝟏. The way you thaw is like melting snow.

It happens under your nose for the most part, but it is slow, sure, and irreversible, and you open your eyes one morning only to realize that the world outside has changed—and so have you.

You roll over and pick up your phone. There are unread messages from Felix sitting in your notifications, probably confirming the plans you made to get coffee before work today, but you put them on hold for now. Instead, you open up your camera roll and find an album, labeled with a sun emoji and yellow heart.

You made this a few months after you met Felix, and you’ve doted on it since, in the sense that you update it almost every day. Funnily enough, though, you’ve never looked through the album just to look through it. Maybe because you’ve never had the time or felt the impulse, but more likely because you know that the album is a visual time capsule of your relationship with the most important person in your life—which has never been purely platonic for you, despite how hard you’ve tried to change your heart.

Looking through it would mean acknowledging your true emotions, something you’ve never felt ready for.

Now, you open the album without a second thought, a preemptive smile on your lips. And you find yourself swept out of your bed and thrown back inside each of the pictures you see, reliving the moments as vividly as if you’re watching them on film.

This is one of your favorites, taken during a late-night tteokbokki run to a small restaurant behind Felix's company building. Felix was laughing so hard at one of your stories that he could only take bites of his meal every five minutes. His face had broken into a dazzling grin, his figure blurring as he lurched forward in his seat, trying to pull his hood over his face in secondhand embarrassment. Snap. He is always handsome, extraordinarily so, but you think you love the way he looks here most of all: every guard of his lowered, carefree, happy.

Another is from the first time you met Chan. Nowadays, your interactions with the boys consist mostly of running into them at Felix's dorm and making friendly small talk. But it's always been different with the oldest member. The first time Felix introduced the two of you, you clicked straightaway, and you had to have spent four hours after dinner just talking, scouring the city for something cold to eat. By the end of the sweltering summer night, the three of you were perched atop a short stone barrier in a secluded corner of Seoul, right outside the best bingsu place in all of South Korea. Felix had leaned over to steal the last cube of mango from Chan’s bowl, to Chan's dramatic protest. Snap. And Chan is like a brother to you now; you will never be able to fathom how much light Felix has brought to your life, be it through him or the people he loves.

A computer screen displaying a League of Legends scoreboard, in which Felix has died more times than there were minutes of the game. Snap. You (not sober) in the center of Felix's living room, your body poised in what is supposed to be the chorus of “Queencard," Felix and Bin completely losing their shit on the couch. Snap. His head bowed in anguish over a bowl of brownie batter after he mistakes salt for sugar. Snap. A low-quality, tiny Felix on stage, the brightest grin on his face when he finally manages to spot you in the nosebleeds. Snap. Your dining table creaking under the weight of all the gifts he got you for your last birthday. Snap. Him and one of your best friends from home, arms around each other, peace signs thrown up, beaming. Snap.

There are countless more, and they are all so incredibly near and dear to you, all thanks to the freckled boy in each. 

You respond to Felix's messages (“be there soon!”), and then move to get dressed. There is a new sense of certainty in your gait when you emerge from your building and into the quiet morning.

The weather is lovely, the fresh sunlight cream-colored against a cloudless sky, the light breeze shuffling the new leaves about. A hound’s ears twitch when you hurry past its home; it is too drowsy to investigate your presence further. The only sounds in the air are the chattering of sparrows in the branches above you and the soles of your shoes, moving quickly across the sidewalk. The wonder in the world is more palpable to you today than it’s ever been.

Soon, the chalk-written menu and hand-carved wooden sign of your favorite café come into view, and you open the door. There are only a few customers inside, and you spot your person right away: his long, dark hair partially pinned back, his figure flattered by a black long sleeve and jeans. He has a duffel bag slung over his shoulder, as well as two drinks on the table before him: one caramel latte and one black milk tea.

When he hears the door jingle, he looks up, and the smile that melts across his face is so fond that you can’t believe there was ever a time when you doubted his feelings for you.

The way his loving smile mirrors onto your face is as inevitable and involuntary as destiny herself.

“Hi,” Felix says, rising from his seat.

“Hey, you,” you answer. “Wanna take a walk?”

And so you do.

You link arms, as always; you try each other’s drinks, as always; you manage to talk about everything and nothing all at once, as always. But when his company building comes into view, your footsteps come to a halt, and your hand fastens around the cuff of his sleeve.

“Hey, Lix—"

When his eyes meet yours, the sun hits them just right, and you have not known anything as clearly and certainly as you do right then.

“—I love you.”

Felix can only stare, his eyes so wide that you can see the whites of them all around, his straw falling from his parted lips.

Then, a smile starts to creep across his face like spilt syrup.

“Say it again.”

“I love you, Lee Yongbok.”

He sets his bag and drink down on the pavement. “Again, please.”

“I love you,” you repeat, starting to laugh. “I love you, I love you, god, I love you, Felix, so fucking much—”

Felix brings his hands to either side of your face, leaning his forehead against your own. And this time, there is no hesitation, no fear—only starlight when he tilts your chin up and finally, finally presses his lips to yours.

Butterflies erupt in your stomach, hordes of them flapping so fervently you feel as though you might take off into the air, but you seek out his elbows, then his shoulders, and then the back of his neck, anchoring yourself to the earth, to him. Felix kisses you like he will never be able to again, and it is all you can do to savor how the curve of his smile feels against your own; how he murmurs the words “I love you, too” in between breaths. He tastes like sugar and smells like shampoo. He feels like forever.

© 𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐱 · 𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘬𝘴 𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘱𝘪𝘦𝘤𝘦𝘴 𝘰𝘧 𝘰𝘳𝘪𝘨𝘪𝘯𝘢𝘭 𝘸𝘳𝘪𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘳𝘢𝘤𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘴 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘳𝘦𝘭𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘴𝘩𝘪𝘱𝘴 𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘱𝘶𝘳𝘦𝘭𝘺 𝘧𝘪𝘤𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘢𝘭. 𝘱𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘦 𝘥𝘰 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘳𝘦𝘱𝘰𝘴𝘵 𝘰𝘳 𝘳𝘦𝘶𝘴𝘦 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘢𝘯𝘺 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘰𝘯.

[loveliestfelix-recs]

things people do after having a nightmare that isn’t crying

struggle to catch their breath

grab onto whatever’s close enough to ground themselves in reality

become nauseous / vomit

shake uncontrollably

sweat buckets

get a headache

things people do to combat having nightmares if they occur commonly

sleep near other people so they can hear the idle sounds of them completing tasks

move to a different sleeping spot than where they had the nightmare

leave tvs / radios / phones on with noise

just not sleep (if you want to go the insomnia route)

sleep during the day in bright rooms

things people with insomnia do

first, obviously, their ability to remember things and their coordination will go out the window

its likely they’ll become irritable or overly emotional

their body will start to ache, shake, and weaken

hallucinate if it’s been long enough

it becomes incredibly easy for them to get sick (and they probably will)

add your own in reblogs/comments!

[loveliestfelix-recs]

Oh my…….. I can’t do this today besties goodbye I am going to cry myself to sleep rn even though it’s 4pm. THIS IS SO SO SO GOOD I AM SO SAD I love this trope so bad 😭😭😭😭❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️ sweet sweet sweet loser beomgyu and popular but kind Yn THEYRE SO PERFECR TOGETHER UGSHSJSJS

synopsis ⨾ Everyone and their mama knows about Beomgyu’s massive crush on you. Even you do, but you’ve never given the poor boy a chance. He’s not complaining though, he loves the chase and you love the attention.

includes ⨾ loser!beomgyu x popular!reader, fluff, crack, small angst, mention of some txt members, mutual pining, teasing, making out, cussing, slow burn

wc ⨾ 3K

Choi Beomgyu has been hopelessly in love with you ever since high school. Not like, but love. Some called it puppy love but even now seeing that you were both in college you realized that wasn’t the cause.

He was dedicated to you and no one, not even you, knew just why he was head over heels for you. Of course, he knew, he only ever told his friends. There were many speculations as to why he liked you so much.

You were well known around school, popular even, yet you never liked that word. You were smart, effortlessly pretty, and got along with everyone. So in reality who wouldn’t like you?

While Beomgyu on the other hand was sorta irrelevant. People knew about him because he was friends with Choi Yeonjun, the most popular boy in school. The number of times you both had won Prom King and Queen was outrageous. Beomgyu would always pout at the fact that you and Yeonjun were always grouped together. However, it really didn’t matter because Yeonjun knew about Beomgyu’s feelings for you so he never intervened.

Something that Beomgyu never knew was that you’ve paid attention to him ever since your guy's freshman year, the same day you found out he had feelings for you.

It was near the end of lunch and Beomgyu usually hung out and ate his food in the classroom he had after lunch. Yet that day he didn’t eat lunch at all, he was too busy writing a love letter, a love letter for you.

He was growing anxious by the second, his heart beating at the fact that he was actually doing this. You guys shared this class together so it was perfect in his eyes. His handwriting was a little sloppy due to his shakiness but he managed.

He didn’t realize that some boys had already entered the room so when he set the envelope on your desk they began snickering. Beomgyu turned around at the sound, the envelope was in their hands as they laughed at him.

“Is this a love letter?” The boy holding it said in amusement as his friends laughed along with him. Beomgyu stood up from his chair,

“Put it back!” He yelled, his fist clenched at his sides. They ignored him, starting to rip it open. “N-No!” He yelled again, rushing to try and snatch it from his hands.

However one of the boys pushed him, causing him to fall on the floor. “Dear Y/n. No way he wrote this for her.” Beomgyu gulps, he can feel tears brim his eyes yet he blinks them away.

At this time most students were already taking their seats or entering class. However, some stop to watch the scene unfolding, including you.

The boy begins to read the letter, some kids gasp while the others gush. You and Beomgyu on the other hand were blushing. He moves to attempt to grab it again but before the boy can shove him again, you’re the one to snatch it out of his hands.

“Y-Y/n!” The boy exclaims, his eyes wide. You frown at him, and you turn around to look at Beomgyu. You reach out a hand and he feels himself go on autopilot. His mind is blank yet his hand moves to clasp with yours.

Once he’s on his feet you’re tugging him out of class and down the hall so no one could see you guys. It’s quiet for a bit, Beomgyu still in shock that you held his hand.

“You wrote this?” You asked, finally turning to him. He felt his breath get caught in his throat, gulping, “Um, yea.” He mumbles and your eyes soften however your brows are pulled together.

“You’re sweet, but I don’t want a boyfriend right now.” You blush, averting your eyes from him, you hand the letter back to him. His heart stings but your voice calling him sweet is all that runs through his mind. He doesn’t say anything and he lets you walk away. After that day a secret game of cat and mouse went into play.

“You have absolutely no shame.” Yeonjun mumbles, closing Beomgyu’s mouth. He blinked away looking at his food, he was staring at you for the umpteenth time today.

“What you gotta a thing for her?” Taehyun says as he takes a seat at their table.

Yeonjun snickers, “I mean who wouldn’t to be honest.” Taehyun shrugs in agreement, mumbling you’re right.

“You going to that party?” Taehyun mumbles.

Yeonjun sighs, “Yea, heard there's gonna be some good alcohol.” He grins, Taehyun and Beomgyu roll their eyes. “Beomgyu you’re coming.” Yeonjun yawns, he immediately pouts, snapping his toward Yeonjun.

“No, I’m not!” Yeonjun slaps a hand on his back, making Beomgyu wince.

“You never come. So you’re going.” He groans, dropping his head against the table.

Beomgyu groans as he walks up to the largely spaced house with Taehyun and Yeonjun at his side. He runs a hand through his hair.

“Why did I even come.” He sighs, mentally preparing to go inside the crowded house.

“You look good, now go find a girl to make out with or something.” Yeonjun mumbles, ready to hit the drinks. Taehyun waves at Beomgyu going to follow Yeonjun.

Right when they’re out of sight he goes back outside. With a big sigh, he sits on the grass. There are people smoking and drinking. He tunes them out yet he hears arguing making him turn his head.

“So you have nothing to say.” Right away he knows it’s your voice and it makes him perk up. “I mean are you even sorry?”

No response.

“Get the fuck out of here.” You say, shaking your head.

“She means nothing to me, I’m sorry.” The boy reaches out to you and you push him.

“I said go!” You cry, facing the ground.

Beomgyu’s heart breaks at the sound of the pain in your voice. He had an idea of what happened and all he could think was you didn’t deserve it. You deserved someone who loved you and only you. Maybe it was selfish but he told himself he’d be perfect for you.

When the boy turned the corner, Beomgyu didn’t realize he was staring.

“The fuck are you looking at.” He grunts and Beomgyu looks away, waiting for him to leave. Once he does he gets up, walking around to where you were. You’re still crying but he puts on an act.

“Shit, sorry I didn’t think anyone was here.” He moves to turn around, yet your voice stops him.

“No, it’s fine, you can stay.” You sniff, wiping your face. Beomgyu smiles softly, internally fist-bumping that his stupid plan worked. He slides down the wall, not too far from you.

“This is your first time coming to a party isn’t it?” You ask, trying to break whatever tension there was.

However, for Beomgyu he was on cloud nine. You guys hadn’t talked since what happened five years ago, so he was more than happy.

“Yea, it is.” He mumbles.

“Why aren’t you inside then?”

“It’s too stuffy, these things aren’t my kind of thing. How about you, why aren’t you inside?” He wanted to slap himself, he already knew why yet he still asked.

“I caught my boyfriend cheating on me.” You say blankly, his brows pull together.

“I’m sorry to hear that.” He really is because that should’ve never happened to you.

“Wasn’t your fault. He was a douche anyways.” You mumble. It’s silent again, the music flowing outside, and Beomgyu speaks without thinking.

“Wanna dance.” You turn to him confused and his lips are pursed. His bangs cover his eyes as he waits for your answer.

“We can slow dance.” You blink at him and he finally locks eyes with you, yet you’re even more confused.

“To this?” He shrugs, standing up, offering you a hand. You’re hit with major deja vu, but you don’t dwell on it too much, taking his hand.

When you’re both standing up, your arms move to wrap around his neck and he freezes finally registering that he doesn’t know how to dance. You notice his hesitation and roll your eyes, grabbing his hands you place them on your hip. He immediately flushes, looking down. You snort at the switch-up, finding it amusing. He’s a little stumbly but he learns fast, following your feet and moving freely with you.

You shake your head, “This is so stupid.” You laugh, staring up at him.

He was taller than you now, and he wasn’t wearing his glasses anymore. He was pretty up close, his features just looked so effortlessly soft. Especially his lips.

“Yea, that’s kinda how I roll.” He chuckles lightly, averting his eyes to the side again.

“I wouldn’t say you’re stupid, but definitely a loser.” You grin and he deadpans.

“Thanks.” He says his mouth forming into a straight line. You laugh, playing with the hair on the nape of his neck, making his breath hitch.

“No, it’s a good thing.” He looks at you skeptically, “I promise!” You both laugh softly. He had a nice smile and a nice laugh. He was endearing overall and it really made you wonder how no girls took a liking to him. At least not that you knew of.

Beomgyu averts his gaze to you, trying to engrave this in his head. He’s never had you so close to him before and he never wanted it to end. He so badly wanted to hold your face, trace your features, and leave small pecks all over it.

Neither of you realized how close you two were getting, and even if one of you did, you didn’t mind it. Your lips meet in the middle, a sweet and soft kiss insinuating. He sighed in the kiss, he quite literally felt as if his soul left his body.

There was no way this was happening right? His mind was mush and his whole body went into shock. Your soft lips against his were the only thing he could focus on. His grip on your waist tightens as if to ground himself.

You both pull away slowly, his eyes are still closed, trying to savor every bit of this moment. Yet when they do open they’re lidded, and his eyes leave your lips, looking into your eyes.

You feel your heart skip a beat with the intensity of his gaze, you gulp, pulling back. He blinks, snapping himself out of his dazed state.

“Sorry, I–” You breathe out, yet your words die out when you take in his smile. He’s trying so hard not to but he can’t help it.

“W-What.” You don’t even notice but your own smile is starting to rise on your face.

“I just can't believe we kissed.” You blush and push him away.

“Oh shut up.” He giggles to himself, chewing on his lip. “I still don’t get why you’re so happy.” You grumble, feeling embarrassed now.

“Because I finally kissed the girl I'm in love with.” Now it was his turn for his eyes to widen. “I mean like! O-Or uh-”

“You still like me.” You gape at him and he sheepishly nods.

“Yea.”

“Jesus Christ, Why?”

It was more of a rhetorical question, you just couldn’t believe that he liked you, let alone love you. Silence rose again and outside stumbling was a wasted Yeonjun and Taehyun holding him up.

“There you are. Beomgyu!” Taehyun yells, and he whips around. “Come on! We need to take him home!” Beomgyu face palms, turning to you again.

He points to them, “Uh, I gotta go. But. Thanks for tonight.” He smiles and you can’t bring yourself to say anything to him. You watch as he rushes over to the boys, grabbing Yeonjun’s other arm to pull it over his shoulder. As Beomgyu got in the car that night, and stared out of the window, all he could think about was you and the feeling of your lips on his.

As for you, you were currently going through a crisis. All because you couldn’t get Beomgyu out of your head. You’d see him on campus when you were on your way to classes, yet you never talked.

Even though you were beginning to take a liking to him you were still dealing with your breakup and you didn’t want to make it seem like Beomgyu was a rebound. He was making it harder though with the way he would talk about you to his friends. You noticed that he was way more carefree around his friends than he was around anyone.

“Dude you don’t understand, everything she does has me folding.” He said to Yeonjun, making him roll his eyes.

“How about you stop talking about her and actually talk to her!” Beomgyu shakes his head.

“She’s basically rejected me twice.” He sighs, resting his chin on his palm.

“Like rejection has ever stopped you, plus third time’s a charm right?” Beommgyu narrows his eyes, pondering.

“You got a point.” They both laugh and you can’t believe you just eavesdropped on the whole conversation.

You don’t understand why all of a sudden you grew an attraction for him. Was his advances on you finally working? Or was it all after the kiss? Even if you were starting to like him, you figured you’d let him chase just a bit more. Curious to see if he’d ever make a move

When you left your class it was pouring outside, making you frown, of course, you had forgotten to bring an umbrella so that just meant you had to walk all the way to your dorm in the rain. So you brace yourself, putting your hoodie on as you step out of the awning.

Instead of being drenched though, you’re completely dry. An umbrella is over you and when you look next to you it’s Beomgyu smiling down at you.

“Wanna walk together?” You nod, falling into step with him. The walk is quiet but it’s a comfortable silence, the both of you’re just enjoying each other's presence. You notice his earbuds are in so you tap on him.

“What ya listening to?” He doesn’t say anything yet he pulls out one of them, passing it to you.

You put it in your ear and quickly recognize the song to be Eyes Without a Face by Billy Idol. You smile, a little laugh leaving you, making him stop the song and turn to you.

“What?” He says and he takes your laugh as an insult, assuming that you were laughing at his music taste. “Nothing, This song is just so you, if that makes any sense.”

He completely understands what you mean because there are about a million songs he listens to that remind him of you.

“You think so?” He smiles, and you nod.

When you guys reach the dormitories he speaks, “Uh do you wanna come over?” He gulps not wanting to come off as weird.

Yet you smile, “Yea sure.” He smiles, mumbling a cool and leading you to his dorm.

He’s glad that neither Yeonjun nor Taehyun are home, also glad that it wasn’t that dirty.

“Sorry for the small mess.” He laughs, setting down his stuff and removing his shoes.

“Do you want coffee?” He removes his coat, taking yours as well. You nod, taking a seat on their couch. “You can put on something if you want.” He says from the kitchen getting started with the coffee.

When he finishes you’re surprised by how good it smells and that he even did latte art.

“Wow, this looks and smells good Beomgyu.” He smiles while taking a sip.

“Thanks, I wanna open a cafe one day.” You love how just by being in his presence it makes you smile.

“Then I’m honored to be the first to try your coffee.” You laugh, as expected the coffee was beyond good. Setting it down, Beomgyu halts.

“Uh you have a little foam on your lips.” He gestures, you go to wipe it but miss about three times until he takes it upon himself.

He scoots closer to you, pulling his sleeve over his hand, he wipes your lip. He stares at your lip and he’s reminded of your guy's kiss, making him gulp. He clears his throat scooting back, yet your words stop him.

“Do you still think about that night?” He gulps again, turning to you.

“Do you?” You nod and his heartbeat picks up.

“I’ve been thinking about you a lot lately.” His eyes widen.

“You have?” You nod again, and with a smile, you scoot closer to him.

“Do you still love me Beomgyu?” You ask, and he answers within a heartbeat.

“I don’t think I could ever stop.” He whispers.

“Good. Don’t”

When the words leave your mouth your lips meet his, your hands tangling in his hair. He gasps, but his hand moves to caress your cheek gently, deepening the kiss.

A small peck turned into a harmless makeout, your guy's lips moving in sync. Until he pulls away, the both of you breathless.

“Please. Please go out with me. I’ll treat you better than any guy you’ve been with.” He whispers against your lips.

You smile against them, “I know you will.”

“Is that a yes?” He pulls back all the way, blinking widely at you. You laugh, nodding your head.

“Oh, my god.” He breathes out, a huge smile overtakes his features and he’s pulling you into another kiss. “Finally!” He yells, he kisses you again but he lets his lips linger for this one. “You’re mine, you’re finally mine.” He glides his thumb on your lip.

“All yours.” You mumble and he pulls you into a hug.

He laughs, raking his hand through your hair, “You still think I’m a loser?”

“Yes, but you’re my loser now.” And he grins.

“Be honest with me. You enjoyed all of the attention didn't you.” He smiles teasingly, and you laugh.

“Maybe just a little.” You say against him, and you rest your chin on his chest.

“But you enjoyed chasing me hm?” He rolls his eyes playfully, kissing your forehead.

“I sure as hell did.”

reblogs & feedback are greatly appreciated:3

© 2023 aakomii — ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. REFRAIN FROM PLAGIARIZING, SHARING MY WORK ON OTHER PLATFORMS

[loveliestfelix-recs]

SHUT. UP. Oh my.

I am speechless. Screaming crying throwing up WAILING. THIS IS SOSJSJXKWJDKENFK

MY BELOVED BFF2L TROPE MY EVERYTHING THIS IS SOOO GOOD AND SO INTENS AND ARTHHSHDJDJD. Ok I got to get it together fr . Yerin this is wonderful I love it so much thank you for writing it omg

I just wanna be yours - Huening Kai

*♬‧ genre: event drabble, pure fluff, bestfriend to lovers, pining

*♬‧ tw: passionate kissing hehe

*♬‧ wc: 983 approx

*♬‧ note: requested by @fairy-of-sugar

Hueningkai found it incredibly hard to breathe when your head was on his shoulder while you peacefully slept. You looked like the lone star in a night sky; rosy cheeks being illuminated by the limelight that was coming from the tv screen in front you.

Beomgyu & Taehyun have long fallen asleep on the floor watching the movie. Only hueningkai remained awake to see the last bit of it. You on the other hand entered your drowse midway to the movie and leaned on your bestfriend. Your hands slightly brushing his own, wavering warmth to his skin. He couldn't help but steal glances at you. The soft rise and fall of your chest, the gentle curve of your lips as you dreamt, everything about you seemed to captivate him in that moment. He couldn't shake off the fluttering sensation in his chest. He had known you for years, sharing countless memories and laughter together. But lately, he had started to feel something more, something deeper than the pacific ocean. He found himself longing for moments like this, where he could be close to you and bask in your presence.

After a few minutes of internal struggle, he had to get up to clear his head. Head full of thoughts of you. He pulled himself out of the beautiful serenity that is enveloping the room. Gently shifting his body, trying to create a comfortable position without waking you up. He adjusted his shoulder and placed your head it on the cliff of the couch; moving his hand away from yours, suppressing the longing to hold it.

He tiptoed to the kitchen. He felt as if he could finally breathe again. Is that what it feels to be in love? He asked himself. More importantly feeling this suffocated when he has been close to you millions of times already? He opened the fridge to get a cold drink, when you had gotten up from your nap and limped to hueningkai. Rubbing your eyes with the bridge of your index finger, you gave him a tight hug from behind. "Why did my pillow get up?" He got startled, "Oh you scared the shit out of me y/n!"

But he didn't turn to you. In case you might see how flustered he got the next second. Why must you do something that sets his heart in a rush?

Call it madness but he wanted to held like this forever. "y/n..." he whispers. You still oblivious to the situation are half asleep on his back holding him. "It's hard for me when you do stuff like that" This made you fairly surprised as you have no idea what's he saying.

"What do you mean Kai?" You say backing off from him, depriving him off your warm touch. "You've been acting quite strange for a few days"

He felt his breath hitch. He didn't know how to break it to you or why even he whispered something like this without much thinking. But it was getting unbearable for him to be close to you yet so far away. He wants to run his fingers through your hair, hold your hands with more intent. His fingers want to hold your waist, kissing you softly after he drops you off home. He turned towards you. Watching your expression full of question and drowse. Secrets he has held in his heart were becoming harder to hide than he thought.

When you held his cheeks with both of your hands, that's when his mind completely left him. "What do you want, Kai?" You had no idea how much of a fitting question you had ended up asking. He felt there's no escape. There is so much he wants to say. He wants to be more than a bestfriend. More than the shoulder to cry on after your boyfriend leaves you. More than someone who has to drop you off to somebody else's house. More than someone you buy gifts with just to give it to your lover.

He wants to be the person who you come running to after the classes. Be the person you walk endless nights with. Be the person who makes you hot coffee in the morning when you wake up in his bed. As ridiculous as it sounds he wants to be your vaccuum cleaner breathing in your dust. Be your portable heater you get cold without. Maybe all he wants is just to be yours.

How is he supposed to say all this now that you're looking so affectionately into his eyes. He felt like a fool in love, feeling butterflies in his stomach and with a heavy heart. He couldn't contain these feelings anymore. Your lips looked dangerously inviting when his mind struggles to not look at them. Next moment his hands move on his own to grab your neck ever so gently. Thumb brushing your plump cheeks. He stood merely an inch away from you. Then his lips met yours in a sweet dance. The dimlight from the kitchen was a witness just how much you wanted to kiss him too. It was hungry, foolish and beatiful. It wanted to last a long time, the way he wants to devote his whole life with you. Your hands move to the crook of his neck. He pins you to countertop, making you sit on top of it. One hand on the wall behind you and one on your waist. It was almost a daze, a slow tune in a party of your own. In this moment, he got more convinced that he was created for you alone. It was through your eyes that he saw the world; on your lips his poems were born. Without you, his life is a wasteland. He is a colorless, tasteless, smelling like a land never visited by rain.

"Okay so what's happening in my kitchen?" Taehyun interrupts you two. He pulls away from you with the most flustered blush cheeks. As if he wasn't the one to kiss you first. Leaving you smiling, asking for even more. That's when he knew.. now he was truly yours.

perm taglist : @143library @tatanbin @gyuletters @shutupheathersorryheatherr @230610beomgyu @itgirlgyu @beomurang @millsieloveswon @cheezetteokbokki

Please leave a feedback if you enjoyed it! 🩷 Reblogging is highly appreciated 🍃

©️impuritywritings [Do not repost, copy or translate any of the works without author's extensive permission]

[loveliestfelix-recs]

Say yes to heaven

hyunjin x reader. seven minutes in heaven except you're heartbroken and hyunjin has a huge crush on you. angst and softness and slightly suggestive in the end.

cw: mention of drinking alcohol and cheating. reader has lipstick on.

Hyunjin's legs are aching from sitting crisscrossed for so long. The music reverberates loudly, bouncing off the walls in Changbin's house. You are all playing truth or dare, a gathering of twenty people or something. But he isn't keeping count of anyone around. His eyes are fixated on you.

You are downing your drink, nudging Chan's side so he'd pour you another shot. He understands why you feel the need to forget, to fog up your mind until the world around you blurs. Your ex Suho, the one you had just broken up with two weeks ago, is kissing someone else, right in front of you. Hyunjin doesn't care enough to see who it is, his heart clenching at the sight of the tears brimming in your eyes.

You are hurt, rightfully so. Hyunjin never understood why you've ever dated Suho. He never cherished you, never treated you the way you were deserving of. Because you were beautiful, so beautiful it rendered Hyunjin putty in your hands. Though that was merely the surface of everything captivating about you.

The bottle is spined again, and Hyunjin's breath catches when it lands on him... Then you.

"Seven minutes in heaven!" Changbin shouts and you roll your eyes, before standing up and heading first into the closet. Hyunjin follows closely behind.

He closes the door, plunging you both into pitch darkness. Your hands find his arms suddenly, gripping them tightly.

"You okay?" he asks, concern dripping from his tone.

"It's really dark," you whisper, and Hyunjin's brows furrow further.

"We should leave," he suggests, moving to open the door but you pull him back. "No, no. Let's stay."

"But you're scared."

"It's okay. You're here."

"Is this about Suho?" Hyunjin asks tentatively, after a few silent beats, and he can hear you suck in a deep breath. He knows he just hit a sensitive chord.

"Yes."

One.

"I'm sorry you had to see that," he whispers, placing a reassuring hand on your back.

"Save it. I won't make out with you," you reply, sudden anger lacing your words. Hyunjin understands it's just your walls being put up, so he wouldn't dare peek behind them.

"I know," he says softly, and your hold on his white shirt tightens. You're both so close, his chest is almost pressed to yours. Can you hear how wildly his heart is beating?

"Fuck, I'm sorry Hyune," the nickname slips from your mouth, sweet and familiar. He missed hearing it. Missed what you had before Suho came into the picture. "I'm just really really hurt," you admit, tears glistening in your eyes.

"Do you want me to fight him? You know I would," he tries to keep his tone soft even though raw anger simmers within him.

"You don't even know what he did," you chuckle weakly and he shakes his head. "He made you cry. That's enough for me."

Two.

You stay silent, but your forehead rests on his chest, as slight tremors shake your body. Your wound was still so fresh, and seeing Suho tonight only made matters worse. But Hyunjin's body is warm, and his arms tightening around you feel safe. You think you can face Suho again if he's by your side.

"Please don't cry," he says, hands reaching up to smooth down your hair, as his chin rests atop your head. He's so gentle with you, so sweet, more than Suho has ever been in your relationship.

"I'm sorry, this isn't what you signed up for," you apologize, but you can't find it in you to pull away. Instead, you wrap your arms around his waist, drawing him nearer to you.

"It's okay. This is nicer." You can't see him, but you can hear the smile in his voice. His smile is always so pretty, and his perfume is making you dizzy. You've drunk too much.

Three.

"How have you been?" you ask, fingers drumming gently along his back. Hyunjin doesn't know how he managed to speak normally to you up until now. Not when you've intoxicated him, when all he could feel in this cramped up space was you.

"Good," he finally manages to say. "And you?"

"I'm good. I missed you," you admit, and his heart seems to pause within his chest.

"You're drunk," he dryly chuckles but you shake your head against his chest. "I know what I'm saying. I'm sorry for taking my distance these past few months. The truth is... I didn't have enough energy to be a good friend, it was draining me to deal with Suho."

"Don't apologize. There is nothing to forgive."

"You promise me?"

"I promise."

Four.

You're full-on hugging now, arms tightly intertwined around one another, and hyunjin thinks this is his heaven- to bury his head in your hair, to smell the sweet scent of your shampoo.

"You smell nice," you mumble, cheek resting right across his chest. "Why is your heart beating so loud, Hyunjin?" you ask curiously, eyes closed.

Hyunjin thinks if he stays silent enough, then you'll forget you've ever asked. Because he can't bring himself to lie to you.

"You smell nice too," he settles on saying. "You look really pretty too."

"Thank you, Hyune." That damned nickname again. "I think... I think you're making my heart beat faster too," you mumble and Hyunjin shuts his eyes closed. You are killing him, stabbing him, and twisting the knife deeper inside his heart. And he's allowing it because it's you.

Five.

"Why do you think he cheated on me?" you ask, voice barely audible, and Hyunjin has to try his best not to storm out right now. He had guessed it was bad, but not this horrible.

"Don't. Don't ever think it was your fault. It wasn't. It could never be. It was his," he speaks the words firmly as if trying to drill them into your mind, erasing every wrong belief you held about yourself.

"Do you mean it?"

"I do," he leans away, cradling your face between his hands. He's so gentle. his voice and his touch and his existence. How could one be so gentle to you?

"You are everything someone would ever dream of. If I were him I would..." he cuts himself off, before saying something stupid; something that would tip the scale of your friendship.

"Finish it, finish what you were saying," you plead, voice shaky and he can't find it in himself to say no.

"If I were him, I would never let go of you. I'd do everything, anything to make myself worthy of you, of your love."

Six.

"Can I try something?" you ask tentatively, and Hyunjin feels as if the world stopped spinning around him. The outside world doesn't exist anymore, all he knows is you.

"Yes," he whispers, voice raspy, and you nod. Your shaky hands reach up to trace his face, cupping his cheeks gently. You're standing on your tippy toes, and Hyunjin can feel your breath fanning over his skin, feel goosebumps burst across his body. And then, the most tender kiss, placed on his cheek.

Your lips linger, pressing into his skin and marking it up for eternity. His hands find your sides, they're trembling, but they're warm and they feel nice to you.

You gulp, before kissing his cheek again. And then, you trail down, your lips finding the corner of his mouth. Hyunjin's knees buckle underneath him. It's too much, colorful dots cloud his vision and he hasn't even drunk anything.

Your hand curls around the nape of his hair, and then you brush your lips against his neck, slowly, deliberately, as if testing the ways in which you could drive him insane. You've succeeded, he wants to say. He's yours to do anything you want with.

Seven.

"Time's up!" Changbin's loud voice rings outside of the closet, and it snaps you both out of your haze. You stumble back, fingers brushing tentatively across your lips. It feels as if your entire body is on fire, even though your kisses were innocent, tentative. But you're feeling more than you've ever did with Suho.

"Hyunjin, I-" The door pulls open, sudden light flooding your vision. You can finally see the evidence of your kisses- crimson imprints on his cheek, trailing down his neck, giving way to a flushed chest. He's so pretty. And you've marked him up for everybody to see.

"We'll talk later, okay?" Hyunjin smiles, tucking a strand of your hair behind your ear.

"Okay."

Seven minutes felt like seven lifetimes for Hyunjin. And he'd live them all with you, love you in each if you'd let him. He'd do anything so you'd let him.

[loveliestfelix-recs]

Meet Me In Amsterdam | h.hj

...pairing...hyunjin x reader

...w.c...1.9k

...genre...fluff, romance

...warnings...none

...characters...Y/N, Hyunjin, mention of Felix, OC(roommate)

...synopsis...studying abroad has pulled so many people in and out of your life, but there’s one that you want to never leave.

...a/n...Okay, so I think this is going to become a series...might name it The Playlist(?) but idk, we shall see. BUT, this song is very Hyunjin vibes with the hopeless romantic/last love he's spoken about before (me too, bro). But I really hope I can get this one to mirror what's in my brain lol.

As someone with a personality that suited everything from traveling, art, fashion, the simple things in life-you were determined to do all of the above. And boy did you.

You met Hyunjin two and a half years ago while you were studying abroad in Amsterdam. The chance meeting was definitely an awkward one, that's for sure. Your flatmate had a project for one of her classes due the next day and she hadn't even started it. She needed to paint "simple beauty" and chose you as her subject. Your body was stiff and aching from sitting on the bench you were propped on and you were getting a headache from the sun that was finally making a proper appearance. There weren't too many people around, but the ones who passed certainly were staring, and at this point you were uncomfortable. You weren't sure how many times your expensive ass camera nearly slipped off your shoulder.

Threats were occasionally making their way out of your mouth, making it known that if anything happened to the camera you spent years saving up for, your roommate was going to replace it. And she vowed to do so. The sun soon cast golden rays across the scenery in from of you, the river below you glistening almost like a wheat field during the lunch hour.

I think this has been the only enjoyable part of this whole ordeal. You thought to yourself. Your thoughts were interrupted by a man close to your age pointing to the seat next to you, "I'm sorry, is this seat taken?"

He was certainly beautiful, there was no way you were denying that. But, instead of replying you smiled and shook your head. A little too shy around the stranger. He sat and braced his slender arms on the front edge of the bench, "Sorry, but the other benches seemed occupied."

You glanced to the nearest ones and he was not wrong...to a certain extent. The two benches to your right had an elderly couple on one and what seemed to be someone either too drunk to function or someone sleeping on the other. Every bench to the left of you two was overcrowded with birds and frankly, a bunch of bird poop. There was no way you were going to condemn him to any of the options above. The two of you made conversation and you learned he was here on vacation with his best friend, who was still asleep and he was kind enough to try to find the nearest cafe for their breakfast. You had agreed that once your roommate was finished, you would take him to your favorite place. Which, should be soon.

_Present Date_

"Jinnie, if you don't hurry we will be late for the flight." You voiced to your boyfriend. He made all the plans for your birthday weekend and you were only allowed to know two things: what to pack, and the date and time your flight took off.

Everything else was all him.

He all but stumbles out of the bedroom, his ballcap disheveled and he was hopping around trying to put his socks on while he made his way to the living room. You warmly smiled at his flustered state, "You know, for a guy you take longer than me to get ready..."

He settles on the small bench the two of you put by the front door to slip his shoes on and he scrunched his nose and put on a boxy smile, trying to hide his stress of nearly being late.

*cough, cough* (he is always early to events)

"Lovely, you didn't even put makeup on and you woke up earlier than I did, so I have an excuse or two." he chuckles at his 'mastermind' explanation and grabs both suitcases you both had packed and ready by the front door.

In the hallway now surrounding the two of you, you quietly said, "Yes, but I didn't get out of bed until after you did, Baby."

You checked to make sure your apartment door was closed and locked securely before the pair of you made your way to the elevator. Only, you were stopped by bright yellow caution tape and an 'out of order' sign. Sharing a look of sass and slight irritation from the inconvenience, you followed him to the edge of the staircase. You took your suitcase from his hands and you made your way down the steps....eight floors to go...

---------

Luckily enough, Hyunjin told you the wrong time and you arrived fifteen minutes earlier. Boarding the plane was no issue, still not having any idea where you were headed-thanks to Hyunjin putting earbuds in your ears and you swore to him that you were not going to look at the destination. The amount of trust you two put into one another was on another level. You trusted him to take you on a romantic getaway and not murder you. And the trust he put in you to...not look at the signs. Yeah, those levels of trust were right up there next to one another.

You fell asleep not long after take-off and didn't wake until you felt Hyunjin shaking you, letting you know that people were getting ready to get off.

Your eyes followed the slow, but sure, line that was making its way off the plane, you and Hyunjin following once it was your turn. Going through the usual process of finding your luggage- you soon realized where you were. Why the airport looked a tad bit familiar.

Amsterdam.

He took you back to Amsterdam...the city where you two first met. You looked up at his slender figure, slightly tearing up. He knew how much you longed to go back. Your roommate decided it was a city she just couldn't get enough of the area and moved in with a permanent residence. The two of you kept in frequent touch, but with the time difference between Seoul and Amsterdam...it could prove to be difficult.

He didn't stop walking until you grasped his wrist to turn and embrace him. His large hands found their places on the back of your head and your waist, pulling you as close as possible, "Happy Birthday Weekend, Y/N, I hope I can give you what you deserve."

"Jinnie, you've already done enough, any more and it might be a little too much." You laugh lightly, causing a small side smile to appear on his gorgeous face.

--------

He had the idea of stopping by the hotel and washing up before doing any other activities he planned. Obviously, you needed to freshen up and apply just a little bit of makeup. After about an hour, you were back in the streets you spent almost three years in.

He brought you up the an extremely familiar corner cafe and the two of you sat and just talked. You spoke about the many memories you had in the year you two dated long-distance before moving back to Seoul once you graduated. You came to the conclusion that if the two of you could conquer a year with the time difference you two had, you could conquer practically anything as long as you had one another.

'You're my first and last' he once said and you simply echoed that phrase back to him. And you meant it. You never wanted anyone other than him, you lived and breathed him. You were never one to be sappy or much of a romantic, but he unlocked that entire side of you. Yes, you wanted to experience the art, love, romance, and all the little things in the world...but you didn't need it, you didn't crave it the way you do now. You wanted him in the most innocent way possible, and he was more than willing to give you that part of him, and more of course. He was going to be your last and you truly hoped he knew and comprehended that.

Once the two of you left the cafe, you followed the path to the river and right to the bench where you met. Your lips lifted in a nostalgic smile, missing the day you two met- but so proud and happy where you were now. He pulled you down to sit, but his hips never met the bench. Instead, his knee touched the ground as he still held your hand. Soon, he began speaking before you knew what exactly was happening.

Your heart began accelerating in understanding as to what was happening right now and you clasped your hand over your mouth," Y/N, I have never met someone so perfect for me until I met you right here. Although the circumstances at the time were anything but traditional or romantic, I think the last two years have proven to be everything that one day should've been. There is no other person I could ever spend the rest of my life with. No one I could ever ask to be my last unless it was you. You are everything I could ever hope or pray for and I hope you will have me. Y/N will you do me the very special honor of having your hand in marriage?"

Of course, you had to let him finish his speech before replying with a watery, "Yes. You are my last."

He let a small sigh of relief slip before embracing you in a kiss so tender and so sweet it took the breath out of your lungs. Pulling away only once you heard cheering not too far to the right of you and you see your ex-roommate holding a camera and a large gift bag. You gasped and ran to her, pulling her into a hug. "It's been so long! How did you know we were here? I didn't even know!"

She pulled away with a sure smirk and looked just over your shoulder and to your now fiance," He found me on Instagram and set it all up, he's been planning this for a few months now."

You blush slightly at the statement as she lightly shoves the gift bag to you, "As an early engagement gift, the first of many because this ship is gonna forever sail."

You open it slowly and pull out a large canvas to see what she had once worked so hard on. On the canvas was painted the scenery around you and you and Hyunjin sitting close enough to where your shoulders touch. She added him into the painting...the painting she was assigned well over a year ago and she still had it. Tears gloss over your eyes, but you refuse to let them fall as you whisper her name, "I can't accept this. You worked so hard on it, hell I don't even know what grade you got on it. Did you ever turn it in?!"

She stops you before you have a chance to take a breath and continue, "Y/N I knew the moment this dork sat down that you two were going to get married eventually just asked for the piece once she was done with the grading. She actually told me my piece was one of the only ones to follow the instructions properly and the only one to get an 'A'. It's a gift for you two, it would be more insulting for you to give it back."

She hugs you once more and kisses your temple before letting the two of you go with a 'congrats, newly engaged couple.'

Maybe meeting him in Amsterdam was one of the best things to ever happen to you. But one thing's for sure...

He would always be by your side and you would always be by his.

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[loveliestfelix-recs]

( 1 ) super high ּ minho

"you keep your arms just like that" minho says, showing you with his own arms. his fingers gently fix yours, his touch staying a bit longer than usual. "not bended, remember. straight. then comes the spin, and right after my part starts."

you watch yourself in the mirror, trying your best to focus on the routine, but minho's has been a distraction to you. the way his eyes meet yours briefly in the mirror, and the small smiles he gives — it's too much for you.

your heart races a bit, you're sweating, and it's not only from the dance practice. his warm breath brushes your ear as he talks, and you can't help having a hard time to swallow. you pretend you're tired, take the chance to drink something from your bottle (the one in your bag that'll definitely get you feeling better).

"wanna practice the spin together?" his voice is sweet when he asks. you nod. he guides you through the steps, his hand on your waist again, and you spin. his touch makes the practice room feel warmer.

"good, good" minho says softly as you finish, his hand still on your waist for a moment. "now, remember, you gotta land smooth and get ready. okay?"

"mhmm, i think i can do it now" you're a bit breathless. it's hard to concentrate, but you're set on not showing it.

and you go through the steps again and again. you both do this a bunch of times, for weeks. there are days you decide on drinking straight up vodka; days where you share your meals; days where he lends you his blouse, because it's getting cold.

"you're doing amazing" he says one day, when the lights are off. there's no energy in the studio, it's being fixed or whatever, but you don't actually mind. you're sure you're doing better because he's not seeing every detail of you under the light, not making you too nervous. "i feel like you've been practicing a lot. have you?"

you manage to smile back. he passes you the noodle cup you're sharing. "yeah. thank you, minho. i'm still collecting bruises, but i'll get better."

"i know you will, pretty. it's paying off" oh. pretty. you wanna touch him now, the urge is stronger than it should be. his eyes stay on yours a bit longer. you look away.

and it's been like that.

there's the way he holds you during the spin, his hand secure on you, guiding you effortlessly until you can do it by yourself — on god, you know why you're dizzy, and it's not even the vodka, not even the reason it's supposed to be. the warmth of his touch lingers even after he lets go. you hope he doesn't notice it. he doesn't look like he minds your presence at all, so it'd be ridiculous.

which is a lie. he's been practicing hiding how you affect him that for way longer than you have. his heart thumps so loudly once in a while he fears you'll hear it, his fingers tingle after leaving you, and still he doesn't show a thing. but, when you dance, things just make sense; it's like you're being finally honest. it's like sharing this secret with each other, and it's the best feeling in the world.

part two. taglist : @yyawnjun.

[loveliestfelix-recs]

🕯Maybe One Day🕯

-

-

-

-warnings- kinda angst? Idk

-a/n- Dance teacher Hyunjin and student pairing?

idk what this is tbh. I tried something new and dunno how I like it.

You hear applause fill the room as you slump to the floor, exhausted after finishing the new Skz choreo. Rolling onto your back you look at Hyunjin through the mirror, finding him staring at you in awe before quickly changing his expression to one of mischief. He grabs your water bottle and tosses it at you, crossing his arms and putting his dance instructor face on.

"One more run through of the full song and then you're done."

You groan as you take a swig of your water, throwing it to the side as you get off the floor.

You practice the choreo several more times, just like you knew you would, making a couple of mistakes here and there, letting out random noises and screams, laughing about it and enjoying yourself despite the pain in your muscles and exhaustion of your body.

Too distracted dancing and watching yourself in the mirror, you don't see the look on Hyunjin's face as he watches you, the laugh he lets out when you make a mistake. Or how he's falling more in love with you each practice. Every time you squeal and jump around after getting a move right. When you give him a death glare after he tells you to repeat the song. The whine you let out when he ruffles your hair after practice. The longing in his eyes when he walks you back to your apartment and watches you walk away from him.

Maybe one day

[loveliestfelix-recs]

List of “falling for someone you thought you’d never fall for, but here you are (you absolute fool)” prompts

“Oh, God, what?”

“I don’t even know what to say to this information.”

“…I mean, I can’t say I’m upset about this unexpected development.”

“They’re the one I want? Are you kidding me?”

“Oh, hell no.”

“For fuck’s sake—”

“This is not what I had in mind. Like. At all.”

“…I was flirting for fun.” 

“So I’m just gonna sit here and contemplate the decisions I’ve made in life which have lead me to this point.”

“I think I just played myself.”

“This can not be happening right now.”

“I didn’t even want them like that—” “Well, now you do, so you’re gonna have to take responsibility for that.”

“My feelings aren’t real and my heart’s a fucking idiot.”

“I mean, feelings come and go. Surely I don’t have it that bad for them.”

^ “Well…” they say, nervous laughter on the tip of their tongue. “Never mind about that.”