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softquokka · 1 month ago

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stray kids everywhere all around the world

₊˚⊹ᰔ Pairing; Han Jisung x fem!reader

₊˚⊹ᰔ ₊˚⊹ᰔ Summary; a one shot about stay!reader unknowingly booking the same hotel as skz until a fateful trip for late night snacks has unexpected outcomes

₊˚⊹ᰔ ₊˚⊹ᰔ ₊˚⊹ᰔ Warnings; mild cursing, han is a chill guy, flirty Han??, in no way do I ever think something like this would be a reality but it’s fun to pretend yeah?? Also there are 7 ss total but some inner dialogue from reader in between so don’t just click on them to read as you’ll miss little bits in between

PT.II

You padded down the long hotel hallway on slipper-clad feet, the pant legs of your much too large fuzzy pajama pants dragging slightly along the carpeted floor where they were too long for your legs. As you made it to the location of the vending machines about halfway down from where your room was located, your fingers barely peeked out from the sleeves of the black slipknot hoodie you wore to tap at your lips while you looked over the selection in front of you. You barely knew anything about the band, in fact the hoodie wasn’t even yours but instead belonged to your friend. You just couldn’t help but snag it from their suitcase before heading out on your mission to retrieve snacks for yourself and your roommates as the way it was worn out perfectly and draped on you in such an oversized fashion was both comfortable and hid the fact that you had decided to go braless for your expected short trip down the hall. Your hair was still slightly damp from your shower just moments before when you had emerged from the bathroom to your friends deciding who would be the one to make the walk down to the vending machines for a late night snack. “I’ll go-“ you volunteered with a shrug before taking down everyone’s requests in the notes app on your phone.

Now you were stood in front of the machine, its fluorescent lighting reflecting back onto your bare face as you began selecting the items requested while cross-referencing the list you had been given. It wasn’t until you came to the time to make your own choice of refreshments that you paused. You could be so damn indecisive sometimes- going back and forth between the sweet options first knowing the same bout of indecisiveness would be repeated when you went to choose something salty as well as a drink from the vending machine to your left. A voice suddenly sounded to your right, causing you to jump and nearly drop your friend’s snacks you had cradled in the crook of your left arm. “If I were you I’d definitely go for the skittles. You look like you enjoy colorful things.” The voice was slightly accented and you turned to face the voice with wide eyes as it was one you would recognize anywhere.

Standing beside you, though slightly further out in the hall as you stood in the little alcove that housed the vending machines, stood Han Jisung of the very band you were in town to see. You noticed he was gesturing towards your bright pink zebra striped pajama bottoms with little flecks of rainbow colors scattered across. “Oh- um…yeah, I do-“ you stammered out causing him to chuckle a bit. “I just can never decide on anything- what if I get the skittles but then regret it and wish I had gotten Reese’s cups instead? Or like- what if I get a snickers but then later crave something fruity and don’t want it anymore and wish I had gotten something else?” The rapper shook his head, once again letting out a chuckle at your rambled explanation of your dilemma. “So get something chocolatey and something fruity? Then which ever you don’t eat you can save for later.” Your eyes widened once again. Oh- you hadn’t even thought of that. “Right- that’s a good idea! I guess I was overthinking things too much, huh?” You couldn’t help but let out an awkward laugh, quickly making a selection for both a Twix and the skittles before moving on to selecting a bag of plain potato chips just to play it safe. “Thanks Han-“ you said, not really meaning to let his name slip out as you would have rather taken it to the grave that you knew who he was for fear of making the idol uncomfortable he was sharing a hotel floor with fans unknowingly. “Oh, so you’re stay?” He said so nonchalantly, so casual you felt like the wind had been knocked out of you as you had been mentally preparing for accusations of you being a stalker to come from his mouth instead. “Y-Yeah…” you spoke hesitantly, clutching your snacks closer to your chest as you contemplated running away back to your room or continuing on with purchasing your drink. Jisung moved to stand in front of the machine you had previously occupied while you side stepped towards the other, the both of you now side to side as you stared at him dumbfounded while he himself now looked over the options for his own late night snack. “So I assume you’ll be at the show tomorrow night? Did you get good seats?” He was….making small talk? Gosh- your mouth felt dry as your brain worked so hard to formulate words you were sure smoke was coming out of your ears. “Um..yeah- I’ll be there. The seats are pretty good I think? In the hundreds so not super close to the stage but not too far either…isle seats so we can hopefully not get stuck in too much of a crowd when leaving-“ You weren’t sure why you were giving him such a detailed description of your seats but he smirked a bit, punching in a few buttons on the machine before waiting for his snacks to drop. “that’s cool! I think those seats are some times the best, honestly. I’ll have to convince the guys we should go up into the stands then so I can say hi.” Your thought eyes couldn’t possibly widen any more but sure enough they did when he said that. “Oh uh- you don’t have to go through the trouble! Really- it’ll be an amazing time just getting to see you all perform.” The rapper shook his head, moving over to swipe his own card on the drink machine before motioning for you to make a selection for yourself. “It’s not any trouble- uh..may I ask for your name?”

You paused a bit, staring at him in confusion before your brain finally processed his request. “Oh! Yeah um, my name is y/n..” The last part of your words were so soft from the shyness you were feeling that you were worried he wouldn’t be able to hear you. “That’s a lovely name, y/n. Please, it’s on me!” He gestured rather excitedly towards the drink machine clearly offering to pay for your drink after he had swiped his card earlier. In a slight panic your instinct was to decline and insist that it wasn’t necessary for him to do something so kind for a stranger but you couldn’t help the excitement beaming in his eyes guiding you to make a selection and let him pay for your beverage. “Oh um- thank you! That’s so kind of you-“

Quickly grabbing your drink from the machine, you shoved it in the front pocket of your hoodie along with some of the snacks and drinks for your friends that wouldn’t fit in your arms. “Don’t mention it, it’s my pleasure.” Han got a drink of his own before turning to face you with his back leaning against the cool glass of the machine just as you were about to head back to your room. “So uh- you can totally say no if you want, please don’t feel pressured because you’re a fan-“ His words completely stopped you in your tracks. oh god- what was he going to ask?? You felt your heart rate sky rocketing. “Hm?” You replied, turning back to him hesitantly. “Could I maybe get your number? Again- totally cool if you’re not comfortable with that! Just- you seem cool and I’d like to get to know you more…” You blinked a few times, confusion probably clear as day on your face before you nodded slowly. “Yeah- I mean…I don’t see why not? I’d think I should be the one worried about making you uncomfortable by having your number-“ you blurted out without thinking, head whipping up with wide eyes once more after it slipped from your lips. Jisung laughed a bit at it though, calming your nerves some as he took out his phone. “Yeah, probably. But sometimes being a little reckless pays off-“ He gave you a wink as he held the phone for you to enter your number with your free hand. With fingers trembling slightly, both from the nerves you were feeling and from the struggle it took trying to keep your hold on the mountain of snacks still held in your other arm, you entered your number before taking a step back and offering him a shy smile. “Um- thanks again for the drink? And the help with the snack decision-“ The idol grinned widely and nodded his head to you, glancing down at his phone to make sure the number was saved before waving to you while you began walking backwards away from him. “You’re welcome! Also, I’ll shoot you a text once I get back to my room so you have my number?” You nodded back to him, giving a small wave before turning and practically sprinting down the hall to your room. The girls were not going to believe this…

With your free hand you began knocking as quickly as you could at the door, your fist moving so repetitively that you almost knocked on your friend’s face when you hadn’t noticed that she had opened the door already. “Yikes y/n- you look like you’ve seen a ghost! There wasn’t some creep driving you trouble was there?!” Your friend, Samantha, balled her hands into fists at her sides as she attempted to push past you and supposedly defend your honor against whoever had put you so on edge. “No no no get in here and close the door! I have to tell you something-“ You took hold of her arm and pulled her back into the room, slamming the door behind you before making your way further into the room and unloading all the snacks you held onto the bed. Your other friend, Marianne, immediately hopped off the other bed in the room and dove for the snack pile to grab the ones she had requested. “Thank you~” She said with a sing-song tone as she began opening her pack of mini powdered donuts. “Okay what is it you have to tell me? You are literally shaking!” Samantha said as she sat on the bed you both would be sharing for the night and opened her bag of mini fudge stripe cookies. You took a deep breath, sitting on the corner of the bed facing them both. “Okay I’m gonna tell you but you have to promise you will stay calm and not tell anyone! This never leaves this room, got it?” Both girls nodded, eyes wide at your sudden seriousness. “Okay…Stray kids is staying at this hotel, on this floor, and I ran into Han while I was at the vending machine-“ For a moment the room was silent before Marianne’s face filled with dread. “Oh my god I think I’m gonna be sick- are you being for real right now?” You nodded so fast you thought your head was gonna snap off. “One hundred percent dead ass! He- oh my god he paid for my drink and asked me for my number!” Samantha scoffed, rolling her eyes a bit. “Okay you’ve gotta be kidding. It’s one thing to claim you ran into an idol but that was too far- your pranks won’t work on me that easily.” You whined, grabbing your chosen snacks and piling them in your lap before opening the bag of skittles. “I’m telling the truth! He even helped me decide what snacks to get-“ Marianne and Samantha both shared a look before the later rolled her eyes. “You read too much fanfiction, I swear…just eat your snacks so we can go to bed? We gotta be up early tomorrow.” You sighed, already having guessed they would think you were trying to mess with them. Just as you were settling beside Samantha with your back resting against the headboard so you could continue watching ghost adventures on the tv like you all had been the second you got settled into your room, your phone lit up with a text notification from an unknown number.

You were so nervous texting him, so unsure of what to say that you worried you were coming off too cold.

Oh no- the question you were secretly dreading that he would ask…

author’s note; I got this idea partially from two separate dreams I’ve had recently but also somewhat inspired by this prompt I got a while ago~ I know this left off on a cliffhanger so pls lmk if you guys would want a part two of what happens next at the concert (and maybe after~)

#healthy doses of delulu arw always appreciated hehehe #and this was 1000% it #han jisung

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softquokka · 1 month ago

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Unfortunately (fortunately) i am stuck here again 😔

#hyunsung were soooo crazy for doing thisssss #this lives in my head rent free #hwang hyunjin #hyunjin #han jisung #han #stray kids

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softquokka · 1 month ago

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Somebody That I Used to Know | lfx

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

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

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

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

Playlist

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

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

Because he saw her.

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

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

Y/N.

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

But different, too.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Not graves you thought you buried long ago.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"We’ll still be friends. Always."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

But the lie tasted worse than the whiskey.

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

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

The friend.

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

Easier. For her, maybe.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Felix’s stomach twisted.

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

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

But the words rotted in his throat.

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

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

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

Flashback~

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He had lost her after all. Without even trying.

It happened like all terrible things did — by accident.

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

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

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

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

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

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

Another silence. This one heavier.

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Didn't think you'd show."

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

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

Friends. The word tasted like blood in his mouth.

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

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

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

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

But he stayed frozen.

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

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

"I am," she lied.

And maybe she was.

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

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

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

Maybe they both had gotten really good at pretending.

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

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

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

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

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

She was just somebody that he used to know.

He kept telling himself that.

One day, maybe it would even be true.

Flashback~

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

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

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

But Y/N noticed.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And for one unbearable second, her eyes found his.

It was like the whole room fell away.

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

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

Almost asked her to dance.

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

His fingers twitched at his side.

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

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

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

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

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

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

Flashback ~

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

God, he was so fucking gone for her.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It was home.

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

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

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

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

"Anything," he said.

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

He tightened his arms around her, kissed her hair.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

But all he found was her.

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

No. The girl who used to fight for them.

The girl he drove away.

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

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

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

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

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

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

Y/N didn't say anything.

He didn’t notice. Not at first.

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

Silence.

He turned — finally — to look at her.

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

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

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

"It was my birthday."

The words hit like ice water down his spine.

He opened his mouth. Closed it.

Fuck.

"I texted you," he said lamely.

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

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

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

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

"Y/N, come on—" he tried.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Neither of them spoke.

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

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

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

They just kept bleeding slower.

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

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

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

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

And Felix stayed outside, swallowing memories like poison.

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

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

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

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

Y/N.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

So he walked over.

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

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

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

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

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

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

Felix felt the ground tilt under him.

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

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

There was a beat of silence.

Y/N opened her mouth — then closed it.

Felix swallowed hard.

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

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

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

Leaving them standing there. Alone. Again.

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

For a moment, neither of them spoke.

And then, without looking at him, she said:

"I’m sorry."

Felix blinked.

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

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

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

Because she meant it.

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

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

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

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

Like she remembered. Like she always remembered.

Felix let his hand fall.

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

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

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

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

Felix didn’t move.

Neither did Y/N.

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

Flashback~

The cracked window was screaming again.

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

Felix wasn’t sure who started shouting first.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Felix staggered back like she’d physically hit him.

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

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

But what came out was ugly and poisonous and cruel.

"Maybe you were never enough for me either."

The silence that followed was devastating. Complete.

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

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

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

Then she reached for her coat.

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

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

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

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

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

Gone.

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

And then — through the silence — he heard her.

Crying.

Sobbing in the hallway.

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

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

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

But he stayed still.

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

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

And shattered.

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

Felix barely flinched.

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

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

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

And after that — nothing.

Only silence.

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

She was gone.

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

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

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

He should’ve left already. But he stayed.

The crowd shifted, and suddenly — there she was.

Y/N.

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

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

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

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

He nodded.

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

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

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

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

They started moving.

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

For a long, aching moment, neither spoke.

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

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

"I thought we’d have more time."

Felix’s chest tightened painfully.

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

She smiled — broken, beautiful.

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

He closed his eyes.

"I hated me too," he whispered back.

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

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

"I know," Felix rasped.

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

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

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

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

Felix swallowed hard.

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

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

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

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

Not for them. Not anymore.

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

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

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

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

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

The music faded into silence.

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

And then — gently, painfully — she pulled away.

Their hands slipped apart.

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

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

Felix didn’t follow.

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

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

And he knew,

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

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

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

It should have hurt more.

Seeing him again. Touching him. Dancing with him.

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

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

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

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

A car pulled up almost immediately — headlights flashing once.

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

"Mama!"

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

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

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

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

"You okay?" he asked quietly.

Y/N nodded, throat thick.

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

And she meant it.

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

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

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

But there he was.

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

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

He didn’t move. Didn’t call out.

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

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

Felix closed his eyes.

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

Now she was just somebody that he used to know.

#jaw on the floor tears in my eyes #this was spectacular #so perfect #the angst? so good #lee felix #felix angst

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softquokka · 1 month ago

Text

𝐈'𝐦 𝐘𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬—𝘉𝘢𝘯𝘨 𝘊𝘩𝘢𝘯 𝘹 (𝘧𝘦𝘮) 𝘙𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳

A Stray Kids one shot

Synopsis: He's moving out. But before he does, he gives you something that you'll remember forever...

Warnings: SMUT 🔞, Angst, Tension. Unprotected sex. Non!idol au. Tears, pet names (baby), beginning of long distance, oral (f. recieving), face sitting, multiple orgasms/rounds.

Minors do not interact!!!

Note: The reason why I wrote this

If this isn't your thing, you're more than welcome to skip it.

Reblogs, likes, comments and feedbacks are always appreciated.

ɪ'ᴠᴇ ᴘʀᴏᴏꜰ ʀᴇᴀᴅ ɪᴛ ᴀ ᴍɪʟʟɪᴏɴ ᴛɪᴍᴇꜱ ʙᴜᴛ ɪꜰ ʏᴏᴜ ꜱᴘᴏᴛ ᴀ ᴍɪꜱᴛᴀᴋᴇ ꜱᴏᴍᴇᴡʜᴇʀᴇ, ᴘʟᴇᴀꜱᴇ ʟᴇᴛ ᴍᴇ ᴋɴᴏᴡ.

Word count:6.2k

𝑬𝑵𝑱𝑶𝒀!

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Everyone was gathered up in the living room, the table filled with sushi takeout and drinks, music playing on the TV and dim LED lights sparkling, casting a shadow on the walls.

The usual group was here, Jisung already cracking open a beer, Hyunjin in the corner taking videos for his story, and you… sitting beside Chan on the floor, knees brushing.

He laughed at something Seungmin said, head tipping back slightly, dimples flashing. God, that smile. It still hit you like the first time.

But underneath the laughter, there was a heaviness that clung to your chest. This wasn’t just another hangout. This was the last night.

He was moving out tomorrow. New job. New city. And you weren’t going with him.

“Drink?” he asked, his voice low as he leaned closer, holding out a can.

You nodded, accepting it with a quiet “Thanks,” your fingers grazing him. The night passed in a blur of noise and smiles. But your eyes kept drifting back to him.

His hoodie sleeves rolled up to his forearms, his silver ring and bracelets catching the light as he drummed the table absently. The way he leaned back and watched everyone with that gentle gaze.

The way he caught your eye…and held it.

Eventually everyone said goodbye one by one, until it was only you and Chan staying behind in your apartment. You decided to throw him a leaving party. That's the least you thought you could do.

As you started clearing the table, throwing away the takeout boxes and soda cans in the kitchen trash, you suddenly felt something, almost like a warm blanket enveloping you.

"You okay?" Chan's voice was gentle.

You turned, looking at him but not entirely through your shoulder. “Yeah. Just… weird. That you’re really going.”

He exhaled through his nose, stepping closer. “Yeah. It doesn’t feel real.”

"Hmm," you hummed as you loaded the glasses into the dishwasher.

You felt him step closer to you and lean on the counter, watching your weirdly calculated moves. "You'll be dropping me at the airport tomorrow won't you?"

He asked and you turned up to meet his gaze almost immediately, your heart squeezed behind your ribcage but you played a smile.

"Of course." Your voice was barely above a whisper.

The dishwasher door creaked shut with a soft click, but neither of you moved. The kitchen suddenly felt smaller, quieter, like the rest of the apartment had dimmed, leaving just the two of you caught in this pocket of time that neither wanted to let slip away.

Chan's gaze lingered on you, as if memorizing your features, your tired eyes, the faint curve of your lips, the way you stood just a little tenser than usual. You knew he noticed.

He always did. That was one of the worst parts about this—how well he knew you.

"You don’t have to,” he said softly. “If it’s too hard.”

You furrowed your brows, stepping closer until there was hardly space between you. “Don’t say that.”

“But it is hard, isn’t it?” he murmured, his voice low, raw. “For me too.”

You didn’t know what to say. What could you say? Instead, your hand moved on its own, resting lightly against his chest.

His heart was racing. Just like yours. Maybe worse.

He covered your hand with his own, fingers wrapping around yours like they were always meant to be there.

You opened your mouth to respond, but the lump in your throat wouldn’t let you speak. You just stood there, tangled fingers between you, until he leaned down, pressing his forehead gently to yours.

The moment was soft. Heavy. Intimate in a way that made your lungs ache.

He pulled away just enough to look at you. Then slowly, wordlessly, his hand left yours and found your cheek, warm and steady. He gently squeezed your soft flesh, your face instantly flushed in a gentle smile.

"Squeeze squeeze," he teased, pinching a tiny bit harder. "I'll miss these."

You let out a soft chuckle, one that sounded more like a breath than anything else. “I’ll miss you doing that,” you whispered, voice trembling just enough for him to notice.

He let go of your cheeks and smoothed his thumb over them instead, the pad brushing back and forth like he was trying to ink in the shape of you. His gaze dropped, flicking from your eyes to your lips to the small part of your chest that rose and fell with every uneven breath you took.

The silence that stretched between you both was too much.

His hand was still on your face, fingers brushing your skin so softly it made you dizzy. The kind of touch that lingered. That said, I wish I had more time.

Before you knew it, your lips parted and he leaned down, his lips inches away from touching yours. He smelled like cedar and fresh laundry. Like comfort. Like home. His hand slid behind your neck, fingers threading gently through your hair.

But then, when the proximity was too much to bear, you turned your head, just the slightest ever, but that was enough to reject what was about to come.

"You'll regret doing that."

Was it possible to taste poison just from words? In this moment it surely seemed like. Your words weren't harsh, but it hit him like a car crash in slow motion.

"I will regret not doing it," He said roughly, almost like a command.

Your throat closed around a lump you couldn’t swallow. Your fingers gripped the fabric of his hoodie at his waist, not pulling him in, not pushing him away, just holding on.

“Chan…”

“Tell me to stop. Say it like you mean it… and I will.”

But you didn’t. You couldn’t.

Not when he looked at you like that. Not when your body was already arching subtly toward his, a magnetic pull you’d both tried so hard to ignore for too long.

Still, your voice came out strained. “This doesn’t fix anything.”

“I know.”

“And tomorrow, you’ll still be gone.”

"But we've still got like fifteen hours more, baby."

You looked up at him with tears brimming your lashes at the sound of that pet name slipping past his lips.

"I'm not your baby."

"You are my baby,” he repeated, voice low and hoarse. His thumb brushed your cheek, then traced the edge of your jaw, “You always will be. Whether I’m here, or halfway across the world.”

Your heart gave a sharp tug.

Fifteen hours. That’s all you had. Fifteen hours of pretending like it wasn’t ending. Fifteen hours to fall apart, and maybe fall into each other one last time.

The last rational thought in your head screamed at you to turn back before you shoved it aside and crushed your lips against his. It was desperate, messy, laced with all the years worth of hesitation finally giving out beneath the weight of goodbye.

You moaned into the kiss, fingers fisting his hoodie as he pressed you against the kitchen counter, the cool marble a jarring contrast to his feverish touch. His hands slid under your thighs, lifting you with ease, your legs wrapping around his waist instinctively.

Your fingers went up his neck to tug his locks of curly hair, holding onto him like a salvation from destruction as he lifted you off the counter and carried you, stride purposeful and fast, toward your bedroom. His mouth never left yours, lips swollen, breaths tangled, his hands gripping you like he was afraid you’d vanish mid-step.

He kicked the door open, didn’t bother turning on the light. The soft LED glow from the hallway spilled across your sheets, painting your skin in colors of dusk and heartbreak.

Then climbed over you like you were something he was about to ruin—willingly.

Chan’s lips crushed on yours again as he tore your clothes off one by one and removed his shirt, leaving you in your underwear and revealing his bare torso. It wasn’t the first time you have seen him shirtless but it was the first time he saw you like this.

Sweet curves, soft thighs, the perfect tits—fuck you were heaven.

Your skin burned under his stare. Goosebumps rose across your body, even though the room was warm. It wasn’t just the way he looked at you—it was the way he felt you, nothing had barely started but he was already going through a thousand mental positions to take you in.

He leaned down again, pressing soft, open-mouthed kisses down your neck, then over your collarbones. “Tell me if you want me to stop,” he murmured against your skin.

“You know I won’t,” you whispered back, threading your fingers through his hair and tugging just enough to make him groan.

That was all he needed.

He slid down your body slowly, his mouth trailing a heated path over your chest, pausing at your bra. With a flick of his fingers, it was off and forgotten and his mouth latched onto one of your erect nipples while his hand kneaded the other. You gasped, arching into him, the wet heat of his tongue sending pulses straight to your core.

“Chan—” your voice cracked as your toes curled.

He looked up at you, lips slick, eyes hooded and hungry. Then took the nipple back into his mouth, while his hand explored the expanse of your warm skin.

“Let me taste you.” He whispered after long seconds of sucking, leaving the sensitive buds covered with his saliva.

You nodded without hesitation.

With practiced ease, he tugged down your panties and tossed them aside. Then he pulled you toward the edge of the bed, lifting one leg over his shoulder again, the silver anklet giving a soft chime that made him pause and smirk darkly.

“That sound’s going to fuckin’ haunt me when I leave,” he said under his breath.

His eyes fell on your pussy, wet and needy, glazing and perfect that he lost his mind at the sight of it. He leaned and brushed his lips over your awaiting clit, his breath fanning over you. Before you could respond, his head dipped between your legs and your thoughts shattered.

His tongue slid through your folds with devastating precision, slow at first, taking his time like he had all fifteen hours to make you unravel. Your fingers immediately flew to his hair, hips bucking against his mouth, but he only gripped your thighs tighter, holding you down.

“Stay still, baby,” he murmured, voice muffled and sinful.

You tried but you couldn’t. Not when his mouth and tongue were working wonders. His lips wrapped around your clit and sucked and the moan that escaped you was like a sound of relief. He went between slow, teasing swipes and intense flicks over your swollen bud that made you whimper his name.

He slid a finger into you, then two, then three curling them just right, syncing every thrust with the movement of his tongue.

His other hand sunk into the flesh of your soft thighs, tight enough to leave his prints, his tongue assaulting your clit and fingers scissoring in you.

Your hips bucked up, wanting more friction and he gave it to you without hesitation. He looked up at you, his mouth never leaving your core, your chest was rising and falling, one hand tugging his hair and the other intertwining with his as he ate you out.

The second the tips of his digits kissed the sweet spot inside you, all thoughts vanished and you came faster than you could register it happening, body trembling, thighs clenching around his head. He groaned against you as you rode out your high, not stopping until you were writhing.

Tears had run down your face, not out of hurt but the sheer sensation of pleasure but he was just getting started. He finally pulled away, his lips were slick with you, his chin wet, and his eyes feral.

He crawled up your body, kissing the inside of your thigh, your stomach, your chest, until his mouth met yours again and you could taste yourself on his tongue. His arm slipped under your waist as he scooped to sit up, his dangerous dark eyes boring into you.

“Sit on my face.” He commanded and you could have sworn your face bursted red.

“W-what?” You blinked, your breathing still a bit uneven, heat flooding your cheeks and between your legs. “I just came…”

“And you’ll come again and again for the whole night,” he said, whiskey eyes locked on yours. “Now be a good girl and ride my mouth.”

Your breath hitched, and your heart thudded so hard you swore he could hear it. His gaze dropped briefly to your lips, then lower, where your legs still trembled from the orgasm he had just coaxed out of you like it was nothing. His hands never stopped caressing—one trailing up your spine, the other gripping the curve of your ass.

Slowly, he leaned back against the headboard, broad chest gleaming with sweat, hair tousled, lips still swollen.

You straddled his chest tentatively at first, your hands braced against the headboard for balance.

“C’mon, higher,” he coaxed, gripping your hips with both hands, dragging you up his torso, bracing your knees on either side of his head as you hovered above his mouth.

He didn’t give you time to second guess it. He looked up at you with such hunger, such devotion, that any embarrassment melted away under the weight of his worship.

“C’mere, baby,” he said lowly, voice like gravel. “Let me drown in you.”

His hands slid up your thighs, guiding your hips down until your dripping core hovered just above his face. He held you there for a moment, inhaling deeply, his eyes fluttering closed as if your scent alone was enough to drive him insane.

Your breath caught as you obeyed, lowering yourself slowly. And then his mouth was on your pussy.

He licked a broad, slow stripe through your folds, groaning like a man starved, like he couldn’t believe you were real. You gasped, your hands gripping the headboard behind him as your thighs closed around his head.

His tongue was relentless, circling, flicking, teasing your clit before diving down to fuck you with his mouth. Every movement was pure filth and precision, like he knew exactly how to pull the most obscene sounds from you.

You tried to lift your hips—overwhelmed by the stimulation—but he gripped your ass hard, forcing you to stay put.

“Don’t fucking run,” he murmured against your soaked core. “Take it.”

Your hips began to roll on instinct, grinding against his mouth as your thighs squeezed tighter around his head. The slurping sounds, his groans, your whimpers, it was all shameless, carnal and perfect.

“Chr—Chan, fuck—I, I can’t…” you cried, your body trembling, overwhelmed and raw from how good he was.

“Yes, you can,” he growled, tongue flicking furiously over your clit, one hand sliding between your cheeks to tease your other hole with the pad of his thumb then up the curve of your waist to hold you against him.

Every flick of his tongue, every suck on your clit sent another wave of sensation crashing into you. The angle made it too intense but the sounds coming from below you? The wet, filthy sounds of him feasting on you like you were his last meal?

They only made you grind harder.

He moaned again, louder this time, his tongue plunging into you while his nose nudged your clit, teeth grazing your bundle of nerves, giving you everything. You gasped, head falling forward and your hands holding the headboard so hard your knuckles turned white.

The outline of his bulge was now visible, his cock straining his pants that it felt like it could break out and spring free any second.

Your hips stuttered, thighs squeezing around his head, and you cried out his name as the second orgasm ripped through you—stronger, messier, overwhelming. Your whole body shook with it, tears threatening again from how good it felt. How deep it went.

Your body snapped.

You came with a strangled sob, back arching as your vision blurred, your essence gushing into his mouth and dripping down his chin. He moaned like it was the best thing he’d ever tasted, his grip on your hips keeping you firmly pressed to his mouth until he milked every last tremble from you.

When you finally collapsed off him, your body limp and shaking, he caught you with strong arms and pulled you against his chest. His eyes were nearly black as he licked his lips, savoring you.

“Fucking angel,” he murmured, voice low and wrecked. “You taste like sin.”

You barely had time to catch your breath before he flipped you onto your back again. His body loomed over yours, chest heaving. He stripped off the rest of his clothes, and your eyes dropped directly to the dark happy trail going down to the thick length of him, flushed and hard, standing heavy against his abs.

You guessed enough times that he was big, but fuck he was huge. There’s no way he’d fit.

Chan lifted your leg, the anklet dangling as he rested it on his shoulder before grazing the pre-cum leaking tip against your puffy folds. The contact made you whimper, your back arched ever so lightly off the mattress, the bulbous head continuing to tease your needy entrance.

You hiccuped, cheeks flushed and eyes glassy as you watched his chest rise and fall like a storm waiting to break. He looked at you, eyes blazing, mouth parted, chest still heaving. His hand slid along your outer thigh, his thumb grazing the anklet.

“You're—” your voice broke, almost barely, “You wouldn't—,” gosh how could you say that out loud? You've had your fair share of filthy thoughts about him but when did it happen? Nothing prepared you for that.

“You were saying?” he murmured, cocking his head slightly, voice lower now. A dangerous kind of calm, like the quiet just before thunder.

You swallowed, lashes fluttering. “You wouldn’t fit.”

His gaze darkened at that. A shiver rolled down your spine at the way his lips tugged into a grin. Not mocking but possessive.

“We will make it fit,” he said.

He guided his length down again, dragging the tip through your folds, soaking it with your slick, teasing the swollen entrance that was already clenching around nothing.

“See how wet you are for me?” he whispered, voice fraying at the edges. “Your body already knows.”

You whined when he rubbed the head against your entrance again, firm, slow, achingly controlled.

He leaned over you, lips ghosting over your mouth as he whispered, “I’m not going to just fuck you. I'm going to make you feel everything. You're going to take what I give you and that's all that's going to be with you forever.”

You swallowed hard, eyes locked with his and letting the tension of his words echo in your mind.

He laid his hard thick shaft on top of your stomach, leaving a trail of anticipation surge through your body. “That’s how far I’ll go. How far you’re gonna take me.” His voice unfolded like layers of velvet and you were already on liquid fire.

Your fingers pressed into the stiffness of his biceps, bracing yourself as he finally began to push in.

Just the tip at first, easing into your swollen entrance with careful control, stretching you slow, watching your face the entire time. You gasped, eyes fluttering shut, back arching, mouth parting, but he stilled.

“Eyes on me,” he commanded darkly.

You obeyed, looking up at him, trembling.

“Good girl,” he growled, before he sunk in the rest of the way, inch by inch, until he was buried to the hilt inside you. To the very spot he showed that was going to reach.

Your bodies were flush, your walls wrapped tight around him. Your mouth opened in a silent cry, and he let out a guttural moan that vibrated straight through your chest.

He didn’t move for a moment. Just held you like that. Letting you feel and adjust to all of him.

“Too—big, ha,” your acrylics grooved crescents deep enough to leave scars on him, forcing your tight walls to accommodate him.

“You're taking me so fucking well baby,” he brushed his lips against the corner of your eye, holding back from spilling his load right then and there.

Then slowly he began to thrust when the stretching discomfort was replaced, hips moving with a rhythm that felt punishing but reverent. As if he was trying to memorize the plush of your pussy before time ran out.

Every stroke hit deep, right against the spot inside you that made stars burst behind your eyes, and the way he angled your leg higher against his shoulder only opened you more, made you more vulnerable to his every movement.

“You were mine,” he panted, lips brushing against yours. “You always are.”

“Even if you go?” you choked out, clutching his back as he drove into you again.

“Especially if I go.”

Your head fell back in a scream when his cock hit you in a strong stroke that left no air in your lungs.

The leg resting on his shoulder shifted as he leaned in closer, folding you further until he was practically in your chest, your bodies perfectly molded, your skin flushed and slick with sweat.

He hissed, sinking in, your gummy walls continuing to clamp him. He growled and cursed loudly as he drilled into your hole, leaving no space for either one of you to breathe.

He let you straighten your legs and then suddenly one hand slipped under your back to arch you toward him, the other tangled into your hair, holding you there as he kissed you. All teeth and tongue and breathless moans between your sobs.

You didn’t know where the tears started. Maybe it was the intense fucking. Maybe it was the weight of goodbye closing in on your chest. Maybe it was him—this version of him—falling apart inside you.

His thrusts faltered slightly, and you felt him throb deep inside. “So. Fucking. Tight.”

“God yes—don’t stop—don’t you dare stop,” you whimpered, as your hips began to buck up to meet his, chasing the high clawing its way through your veins.

He kissed you deeply, swallowing every sound you made as he drove into you faster, rougher, the headboard knocking faintly against the wall. The anklet jingled with every thrust, a wicked reminder of just how vulnerable, how claimed you were beneath him.

“Oh my—Chan—”

“Right there?” he smirked, rolling his hips again and again into that perfect angle, his hand coming up to press gently on your stomach. “You feel me deep in there, baby?”

You nodded frantically, eyes squeezing shut as your walls clenched around him.

“I want you to remember this,” he said, leaning down to kiss your temple, then your cheek. “Every time you touch yourself. Every time you're alone.”

“This—”thrust—“how I'm making you feel now”—thrust—“this is mine.”

So many emotions were rushing through your mind, not a single one coherent. One was the pain of him leaving, the other was the pleasure he was giving, and the other knowing that you still have him before you're helpless to stop him.

But despite all those emotions, the tears were still unstoppable. They leaked from the corners of your eyes, down to your face, that crushed his soul.

“Baby…baby…” he slowed his pace, looking straight into you.

“Relax, just relax, I'm right here with you.” he whispered, his voice a soft plea as he cupped your face with trembling hands. The pad of his thumb brushed beneath your eye, catching a tear before it could slip down to your ear.

His thrusts had slowed, just the bare roll of his hips now, like he was afraid to hurt you, like he was grounding himself in your trembling body. “Talk to me,” he murmured, forehead against yours, breaths mingling. “What’s wrong, baby?”

You shook your head. You couldn’t speak. The knot in your throat was too thick. It wasn’t just sadness, it was the overwhelming contradiction of loving someone you weren’t allowed to keep and watch him go.

“It’s nothing,” you rasped, but he didn’t believe you. You knew he didn’t. He kissed the center of your forehead, then your nose, then the corner of your mouth like he was trying to kiss the hurt away.

“Don’t do that,” he said quietly, voice thick. “Don’t pretend it’s nothing when you’re breaking right in front of me.”

Your lip trembled. “Because you’re leaving. Because this—this isn’t just sex, and you know that. You know that.”

He froze. His breath hitched like he’d just been stabbed in the ribs. His eyes trailed down to where you both joined and then back up, pressing his mouth to yours; desperate, searing, tasting of both love and goodbye. “I know,” he whispered against your lips.

“I know. But if I ask you to come with me, would you?”

You stiffened beneath him. His body was still inside yours, his warmth wrapped around you, and yet…the question sucked all the air from the room. He already knew the answer but a part of him hated himself for asking anyway.

“I—” You opened your mouth, but no sound came. Just the silence of your hesitation. Your hands gripped his biceps, fingertips digging in like if you held tight enough, you could stop time.

His eyes were searching yours now. Hopeful. Already hurting.

“I can’t,” you finally whispered. The words shattered between your lips like glass.

His entire frame went still. Then he looked away, blinking hard, his jaw clenching as he withdrew just slightly, like the truth burned too much to stay close.

You closed your eyes shut, more tears streaming down your face. Regret slashed across his face, he leaned in fast, brushing away the cold streaks with his lips.

“I’m sorry…”—kiss— “I’m sorry baby, I shouldn’t have asked you that,”—kiss— “but I’m here with you right now and I need you to be with me please.” He kissed your flushed hot cheeks frantically.

You nodded helplessly, your fingers tangling into his hair, pulling him closer. You gasped as he pressed deeper inside you again, the stretch burning in the most beautiful way. His hands cradled your face as he began to move, imprinting himself into your very soul.

“Look at me,” he whispered, voice ragged as he rolled his hips, grinding against that sweet spot inside you. “It’s only you and me right now.”

Your eyes fluttered open, glazed and glassy as they locked onto his. He smiled softly at you, and you did too, with trembling lips, tracing the line of his sharp jaw with your finger tips.

“You'll be okay,” he said quietly.

You tensed. “Don’t—”

He kissed the top of your head before you could argue, holding you tighter. “No. Let me say this.”

You let him. Even though your chest already ached with the weight of it.

“You're strong, you always are. And I need to believe that when I'm gone, you'll still be smiling, laughing and living your life.”

The weight of his words felt awfully too much to register, so painful but true, and yet, he was still here. Still buried inside you, still holding you like you were the only thing tethering him to the earth.

“I'm only one flight away. Maybe a few hours but I can always come back. I want you to be strong for you and me. But until you can, I will be for the both of us. Okay?”

Your breath hitched, your eyes glistening as you nodded, unable to speak. His grip on your waist tightened as he moved harder now, his hips snapping with more urgency as your thighs wrapped around his waist. His pelvis brushed your clit with every thrust, and the tension built so fast it almost hurt.

He reached down between your bodies, finding your swollen nub with his fingers, skilled and relentless. His other hand laced with yours above your head, pinning it into the pillow as he kept rocking into you, deliberate and deep.

You clenched around him with every drag of his cock, every swirl of his fingers, and soon you were panting, chasing the high that built with blistering intensity.

“I want you to come for me again,” he growled, teeth grazing your lower lip. “Soak me. Let me feel it.”

The orgasm slammed into you like a wave, pulling a scream from your throat as your body arched off the bed, legs trembling, fingers clawing at him. You clenched around him so tight that he cursed loud and broken.

“Fuck, I’m gonna—” he choked out, hips stuttering.

“Inside,” you whispered without thinking. “Please. Want to feel you.”

He didn’t think twice. His hips jerked as he spilled hot white ribbons deep inside you with a strangled groan, cock twitching mercilessly and collapsing against you, panting into your neck. You held him as his body blanketed yours, sweaty and warm. His cock still buried deep, twitching inside you as your walls pulsed in aftershocks.

You both remained tangled in each other, breathless and spent, before you opened your eyes to look at him. Eyes red-rimmed, lips kiss-bruised. “More. I want more.” you whispered, shoving down any other thought that threatened to creep up your head.

He lifted his head just enough to see your face. The way you looked at him, soft and broken and hungry for something only he could give, made his chest tighten painfully.

“Yeah?” he whispered, brushing a thumb over your cheek. “You want more, baby?”

You nodded, bottom lip caught between your teeth, eyes glistening. “Don’t stop. Just… make it go away.”

His heart cracked wide open. Because he knew exactly what it was. The morning. The distance. The ache of knowing this was borrowed time. And he would give you everything he had until there was nothing left.

He kissed you again, slow and deep this time, dragging his tongue along yours as he began to move inside you once more. Gentle, languid thrusts that had you gasping all over again. You were so sensitive, every stroke made your body tremble, but you welcomed it. Welcomed him.

“You feel that?” he murmured against your lips, grinding into you with purpose. “How full you are with me?”

“Mhm,” you whimpered, arms tightening around his neck. “Don’t stop, please…”

“Never,” he swore, kissing your temple, your jaw, the corner of your mouth. “As long as you want me, I’m yours.”

Your hips rose to meet his, your slick making every movement seamless, soaked with him. His release still inside you, mixing with your own, making each thrust filthy and maddeningly raw.

It was too much. It was never enough.

His lips trailed down to your neck, sucking at the skin just above your pulse, marking you like instinct. Your fingers dragged down his back, nails scoring lightly along his spine, and he hissed against your skin.

He shifted slightly, changing the angle, and you gasped again as he hit deeper, brushing against that raw, sensitive spot that made your toes curl and your walls clamp down around him.

“That’s it,” he groaned, hips stuttering again. “So fucking perfect around me. Can’t get enough of you.”

The shape of his thick cock was basically engraved inside your pussy, the way it kept kissing the spot again and again in a plap! plap! plap!

You felt another wave begin to build but slower this time. A soft burn instead of a wildfire. It crawled up your spine, wound itself around your lungs, and settled deep in your belly.

You didn’t care how many times you climaxed tonight. Didn’t care how messy it was or how sore you’d be. All you wanted was to feel him. To lose yourself in him over and over until the sun came up and you had no more tears left to cry.

His mouth never left your skin. His hands never stopped touching you, holding you like a man who couldn’t bear the thought of letting go.

You came again—harder this time, with a sharp cry into his shoulder—and he followed, body shuddering, forehead pressed to yours as he emptied himself inside you again, deeper, slower, like he was planting himself there. Like he needed to leave a part of himself in you to survive the goodbye.

You both climbed and crashed together over and over till it was physically impossible to go further. Only then did you stop, covered in sweat, filled with his cum, breaths erratic and hearts lost.

Your fingers curled into his hair, cradling his head against your chest as you both tried to breathe. It was everything you never said. Everything you wouldn’t say tomorrow at the airport.

Everything he gave you tonight instead.

His final gift.

His goodbye

***

The next morning you woke up in Chan’s arms, your face tucked into the crook of his neck, your legs tangled like vines under the sheets. The soft golden light of dawn painted the room in a gentle hue, but it did nothing to ease the weight pressing on your chest.

His hold on you had loosened—reluctantly. You barely stirred as he kissed your shoulder, one last lingering touch before he slipped out of bed. You listened to the soft patter of his steps, the creak of the bathroom door, and the rush of the shower.

When he stepped out of the bathroom, dressed in a plain black shirt and faded jeans from last night, hair damp and curling at the ends, his eyes softened the second they met yours. He hesitated in the doorway like he wasn’t ready either.

You got out of bed and quickly freshened up as well, he made you both a coffee and after the quick breakfast he moved to you, kissed your forehead, and whispered, “Let’s go.”

The ride to his apartment was quiet. Hyunjin was already outside waiting when you pulled up. He raised a brow at the two of you but didn’t say much. He didn’t have to. He knew.

As Chan ran to change into a new outfit, grab his suitcase and passport from inside, Hyunjin leaned against the car and gave you a small smile, one laced with quiet understanding. “You holding up?”

You nodded, even though your throat was tight. “Trying.”

“Yeah,” he said gently. “Me too.”

Hyunjin hopped into the driver’s seat of your car once he returned, Chan and you slipping to the back. You leaned into Chan’s shoulder, letting the feel of his warmth, his scent, his breathing sink in.

He kept rubbing slow, soothing circles into your hand with his thumb, like he was trying to do the same to you too. The ride to the airport felt like both forever and not long enough.

At the airport, everything moved too fast.

Check-ins, security lines, gate numbers, it all blurred into a whirlwind of fluorescent lights and boarding calls. But somehow, time slowed when you reached the final point. The spot where you couldn’t follow.

The barrier.

“Hyunjin,” Chan turned first to his best friend, pulling him into a firm hug. “Take care.”

Hyunjin hugged him back tightly. “You know I will. You as well, yeah?” He gave him a soft clap on the back, his voice a little thick. “Text when you land.”

Then Chan turned to you.

You weren’t ready.

You didn’t know if you ever could be.

His eyes were unreadable at first. Then he reached up slowly, fingers hooking the chain around his neck, the one he’d worn for as long as you could remember.

You opened your mouth to protest, but he was already leaning forward, slipping it over your head, the cool metal brushing against your skin before it settled above your heart.

His fingertips lingered there. Over your chest. “Now I’m always with you,” he murmured, voice hoarse. “Every heartbeat.”

You swallowed hard, blinking fast.

“No matter the time zone, the miles, the bullshit that comes between us, I’ll still be yours. I love you. Alright?”

Your lips parted in a silent cry, eyes filling again. “You promise?”

I love you too

“I do.” He smiled, but it trembled. “I promise you I’ll come back. But until then… hold on to this.”

He wrapped you tightly in his arms, fresh tears slid down your cheeks, soaking his hoodie. He gave you one last kiss. Gentle. Final. Brushing his lips on your forehead, then stepped away before he could change his mind.

You didn’t even realize you were crying until he turned toward the gate and then disappeared. You reached for him instinctively but Hyunjin was there, whose arms caught you as your knees buckled, as the sobs broke loose from where you’d buried them all morning.

He didn’t say anything. He didn’t need to, just held you as you sobbed into his chest, til your shaking slowed.

Until the pain settled into something quieter.

“You’ll see him again,” Hyunjin whispered eventually, resting his chin on your head. “Don’t worry.”

You clutched the chain at your neck and nodded.

Because even though your heart felt like it had shattered into a thousand pieces. You knew one thing for sure.

Chan carried half of them with him. And you carried his.

No matter the distance.

Enjoyed this one shot? Consider checking my masterlist for more. Requests? Check 𝚁𝚎𝚚𝚞𝚎𝚜𝚝𝚜 (& 𝚁𝚞𝚕𝚎𝚜)

Taglist: @velvetmoonlght @de-uns-tempos-pra-ca @greyyeti

If you want to be added to the taglist, drop a comment <3 (If I missed someone please lmk)

Thank you for reading!

xx,

Ivyy

#this felt wayyyy too real. I loved this #bang christopher chan #bang chan #bang chan smut #angst #skz angst #thankyou ❤️

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softquokka · 2 months ago

Text

Step into the night light and let it go.

Genre: Angst, a little bit of comfort. Bittersweet ending.

Warning: None really, tears, break up.

A/N: This is my first post and one of the first things I've written in years, I'm open and grateful for any feedback, and requests. Hope you like it.

Word count: 919

The night is heavy, your heart is heavier. In a way that has become the norm. In the way that your heart is already halfway out the door. It’s the waiting that weighs on your soul, it’s the guilt that wears you out. Not knowing if what you want to do it’s the right thing, even though deep down, you do know, you already know.

So, instead of facing it, you do what you always do. You sit curled up on the faded couch in the studio, the dent on it perfectly shaped for your body now. Of all the nights you’ve spent waiting for him to notice you, to remember you exist outside of the tracks where he always loses himself on. The monitors are dim. The speakers hum low, like a haunting reminder that it’s 3 am, that you should be home instead, curled up in bed with him. But you’re here. And Chan… he’s across from you, sitting on the floor with his arms draped over his knees, watching you. He knows too. But he doesn’t speak on it, he rarely does. He won’t try to fix it, he doesn’t know how. He just watches you, like he’s trying to engrave your face in his mind.

“Say it”, you whisper, comes out like a plea, because it is. “Say something. Anything. Please.”

Chan throws his head back and looks up to the ceiling like it holds all the answers, then closes his eyes for a second, as if the weight in your chest mirrored the one on his too. When he brings his eyes back to you, his eyes are glassy and he’s smiling, the kind of bittersweet smile that holds a hundred words and a thousand memories. It’s a green light, it’s a goodbye.

“I think,” he says, voice low and shaky, “you…” he stops and swallows a knot forming on his throat, “we already know what you have to do. What you are going to do, baby.”

The sound of the nickname on his lips is enough to make your throat close up and well up tears in your eyes. It hangs in the air too heavy. It feels too final. It is. You blink a couple of times, taking it in. Then drag your gaze up to him. “Then why does it hurt so much?”

His smile softens almost into a grimace and he sniffles, then for a moment, he looks so heartbreakingly resigned that it nearly undoes you completely. “Because it matters.” he says, “Because we had something, something real. Because you mattered here. You matter to me.”

You shake your head, squeezing your hands into fists in your lap. “Chan, don’t… Please don’t make it harder.”

But Chan pushes up off the floor and crosses the room to you anyway. He crouches down in front of you, close enough that you can feel the warmth of him in the cold AC air of the studio. Close enough that if you reached out, you could tangle your fingers in his hair like you’ve done countless times before. Close enough that if he asks you to stay, to try one more time, you would.

But he doesn’t ask. And you don’t offer either.

Instead, Chan cups your face so carefully you almost do, almost. His thumbs brush at your cheekbones like you are the most precious thing in this world, and to him, you are. His forehead presses against yours, and for a long moment, there’s only the sound of both of your breathing, heavy, trembling holding on.

“You’re allowed to go,” he says, so quietly that it feels like he’s talking straight to your soul. “You’re allowed to want more, baby. More than I can give to you. You’re allowed to chase it. Even if it means leaving me behind.”

Your chest aches and tears roll down your cheeks and get lost on his fingertips. “I don’t want to leave you.”

“I know,” he breathes. “But you’ve already given up so much. You need to leave for you.”

You close your eyes. Because if you open them, you know you’ll break. Because if you open them, you’ll beg him to give you a reason to stay. But he already has. He is the reason. Because he loves you enough to let you go.

When you finally open your eyes, tears are rolling down Chan’s cheeks too. He tries to blink them away, still smiling with that same quiet, heartbreaking, shattered smile.

You whisper, “Will you still think of me?”

Chan huffs a laugh that’s almost a sob. “I’ll think of you every time I breathe, every time I close my eyes, for the rest of my life.”

He leans in, just enough to press kiss on your lips, soft and slow, like it holds all his love. It’s not desperate, it’s a goodbye. It’s a promise. “You’re going to do beautiful things, baby,” he says, his voice cracking a little. “I’ll be cheering for you. Always.”

You don’t say goodbye when you leave. You just carry him with you. In your ribs, in your blood, in every night sky you’ll see, in the spaces between every note you’ll ever sing.

Because sometimes love isn’t about staying. Sometimes it’s about giving someone the courage to fly even if it’s away from you. And tonight, Chan gave you that.

You walk out into the night with your head high, your heart heavy but free, and what you’ve always dreamed of finally waiting for you.

#the last lines #so beautifully heartbreaking #bang chan #christopher bang #bang chan angst #bangchan angst

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softquokka · 2 months ago

Text

And I heard about the twister that lives inside your heart

꘎♡━━━━━♡꘎ ꘎♡━━━━━♡꘎

Pairing: Felix X gn reader

Summary: You breakup with your boyfriend, unable to cope with your rapidly declining terminal illness, but he refuses to let you fight alone.

Genre: Angst

Word Count: 8k

Trigger warning: Terminal illness, stages of grief, hospice care, descriptions of the body shutting down and death.

A/N: This has torn my heart to shreds. If that's me, I can't imagine what you'll experience. Terminal illness is horrible and brings unimaginable pain to everyone involved. To the requestee, I hope this is what you were looking for. Please grab your tissues before you start, you'll need them <3

_ _ _

Feelings could be fatal. Felix knew that. You could call it naivety, but he called it love. Felix knew he loved you from the first day he saw you. The way the breeze flew through your hair and cherry blossom petals rained down behind you.

Your eyes scanned the area. You were searching for something and it certainly wasn’t the love of your life. When your eyes caught his, a soft pink flushed your cheeks. His freckled cheeks pushed up into a smile, two dimples appeared, and he gave you a brief wave.

Your own smile grew and you returned his wave. In those few seconds, he threw away the need to rush to the company building. They wouldn’t miss him for a few extra minutes. He introduced himself and you greeted him. Before he knew your name, he knew his heart was yours.

Such a cliche k-drama moment, he talked about meeting you all the time. Whenever he got the chance, he brought it up. Recounting the way the petals drifted towards your body, as if they were magnetized by your being, just as he was. The sunlight reflected in your eyes in a way that made your soul shine.

Some group members scoffed, shoving their fingers in their ears, waving him away, and throwing shots of disapproving groans. Not yet taken captive by their own lovers, they couldn’t stand such a cheesy romance. Other members felt the opposite way. A brightness when Felix’s head perked up. He spoke with his hands, gesturing and pouring out his endearment for you. People didn’t know Felix without knowing you.

Jeongin happened to be one of these members. He listened to Felix’s words about you non-stop. When Felix talked about the dates you went on, he took silent notes. If any member could pull someone and make them the happiest person on earth, it was Felix.

A walking ray of sunlight, hand crafted by Apollo himself. Embedded with charm and charisma. A whimsy childlike wonder coddled his heart and kept him young. Jeongin took note of that, too.

The cheesy pickup lines. The apology gifts for occasionally doing the wrong thing and hurting your feelings. The special presents, not for a specific reason, but just because he could. Because maybe, deep down, the tiny trinket of your favorite animal would look cute on your side of the nightstand.

He purchased you some of the things you talked about. The way your eyes always widened and your smile grew. Sometimes, you never fully pulled the gift from the bag all the way. Instead, you leapt into his arms, covering his face with kisses. Treating him with your very own personalized thank-yous.

Felix tried not to talk about you all the time. He knew things existed outside of you, but you were the love of his life. Life is full of beautiful things and you were one of them. He told the world about you.

From brief conversations with strangers, complimenting their outfits that you shared traits with, to showing you off on his arm at formal events. His heart stitched to yours. Smitten from day one, he thought you’d be his forever.

Jeongin grew used to this idea as well. So when he awoke to Seungmin shaking him and informing him something was wrong with you and Felix, on a starless night, he panicked. He jerked himself upright with tendrils of dark hair sticking up like he’d been zapped with lightning.

He shoved himself into a hoodie and slides. Each footstep that landed closer to Felix and Seungmin’s dorm, it brewed anxiety in his chest. You weren’t just Felix’s significant other, you turned into one of Jeongin’s closest friends. He cared about the two of you immensely.

A soft hand knocked on the outer oakwood of Felix’s bedroom door. “Felix? It’s Innie, please let me in.”

“Go away.” His voice seeped with sadness. “Just leave me alone, please.” A sniffle followed up his plea.

It killed him. The idea of his group mate and one of his brothers tucked alone inside his room, he hated it. He took a step forward, pushed open the door, and slid inside. What he saw caused his heart to drop.

Felix sat up in his bed with his white comforter tucked over his shoulders. His usual honeyed freckles sat red and swollen. Beneath his eyes, tears glistened over the tops of each cheek.

“Felix, you’re scaring me.”

“It’s over, Innie. It’s all over.”

“Huh?”

“They broke up with me over text. I don’t know what I did. They won’t respond to me. They left a long paragraph, stating they were moving away. What did I do, Innie?” His bottom lip quivered and more tears filled his eyes. “What did I do?”

“Lix…” His voice came out softly. He imagined all the things he could have done in a split second. A broken sob fell from Felix’s chest. With squeezed shut eyes, he tucked the blanket tighter to his body; trying to seek out the comfort your warmth could no longer provide.

Behind him, Seungmin stood silently in the doorway. His face fell from the news. The last few days, his brain tuned through the conversations with Felix. No fights. No bitter arguments. From what he remembered, everything had been working out for you two.

Jeongin stepped forward once and then again. He leaned forward, parading into the bed besides Felix’s body. Just as Felix did to him so many times before, he pushed himself closer to the broken man.

Occasionally, even the sun needs to experience the comfort and softness of the sky’s blanketing clouds.

~ ~ ~

On a grassy cliff, you overlooked the beach down below. Above you, seagulls squawked and squalled. They swarmed, desperate for food, but you didn’t have any. Nourishment for your own body was the last thing on your mind, let alone food for the birds.

Silky blue waves pushed white foam against the rocks below. You sent the break up message to Felix and then hit block. Some would call you a coward, but you called it love. Love is always dangerous and this one wasn’t much different.

For a few minutes, you teetered on the edge of the cliff. Not planning to jump, but rather reminding yourself you were human. You could feel the sea spray from up here. The squawks of life from above. The garbles and playful water splashes of the aquatic life below the crashing waves.

You existed somewhere in between at this moment. Somewhere between soaring high above the heads of everyone you loved and slipping beneath the gentle waves of the sea. Soft tendrils of bright green grass wrapped around your ankles. They tethered you to earth, a gentle reminder that you weren’t alone.

Life has a tendency to knock you down when life is going great. Just when you think you might get to soar, you’re a few feet off the ground and you’re dropped again. Another challenge. A new task and what will it result in? Do you manage to accomplish it with pride, or let it drag you off your feet and pin you to the ground?

Life felt that way recently. You and Felix were browsing apartments. Nothing too official yet, but just ideas. It had been the next step of your relationship. Eventually, marriage and a house. A family? You debated, but there wasn’t a solid conclusion. You never strayed from that truth until now.

You loved Felix with your entire heart. When you stayed over at his dorm and awoke to the constellation of freckles, you understood why people loved the stars so much. Patterns and small detailings in between life’s fine print. An entire secret that only few people understood and gained the grasp of.

Throughout history, multiple people found similar patterns in the sky. They recorded them, gave them names, and pulled stories from them. Felix’s freckles made you an astronomer in your own special way. With a single swipe of your thumb against his cheek, you could recall all the memories.

His freckles brightened on the sunnier days. In the winter, they paled. You hated when they were dulled over with makeup. He insisted they were still there, but you forced yourself not to reach up with a licked thumb and rub it away. His makeup artists hid them without a second thought. They erased history.

No matter how hard the next part of your life would be, you had to face it alone. As uncomfortable and unwanted it was, you vowed not to bring him down with you. You couldn’t and you wouldn’t.

You would not let Felix pull off his helmet and lose himself in the deep dark diagnosis of your terminal illness. Your satellites crashed. The spaceship nosedived. You ran on fumes.

Your brain screamed mayday, but your heart chose peace; death with dignity, even if it hurt.

~ ~ ~

Felix used to sleep peacefully at night. Now he jerked upright with shaky breaths. His arms reached out for you, squirming and grabbing in the darkness, he never found you again. The heartstopping realization that it wasn’t just a dream. This was real life and you were gone from his.

You blocked his number.

He showed up at your apartment door banging, but you didn’t appear. The door didn’t swing open. He tried to knock on the windows, doing anything he could to reach you through the white siding and aged bricks. You never heard. You weren’t home.

He moped. His teary face buried into the cold pillow and he screamed. Seungmin’s nights were busted open with the grief of his roommate. The first few times, he rushed into Felix’s room to settle him down.

It stopped the night Felix locked his door. Seungmin grabbed the knob, but it didn’t turn. Inside, his limbs kicked and tangled in the blankets. Sweat caused his t-shirt to stick to his skin. He shrieked, calling out for you, but you never came.

Even in his dreams, you never showed up. If it weren’t for the pictures of you in his phone, he might have assumed he dreamt it all. Your bright eyes and familiar smile. Your hands connected together like puzzle pieces. Where did you go?

He started to take his attention to the night sky. Restless and missing you, he dropped himself in front of his window. Star-filled constellations, the ones you compared his freckles to. What a privilege it was to be seen in nature.

When a glowing white orb swooped across the night sky, he weakly whispered your name. Nothing else mattered besides you. Where did you go? Somewhere beneath the blanket of darkness, you had to be drawn to something, or maybe someone.

Did he do something wrong? It wasn’t cheating. Arguments hadn’t occurred in quite a while. The two of you hated bucking heads and when you did, you were both sure to come to a conclusion, or pause the high-filled emotions to walk away for a break.

“You walked away, but you’ll come back, right? Come back to me, baby.” Moonlight reflected in his teary eyes. He clutched his arms around himself tighter, wishing it was you. “Just… just come back.”

He barely uttered your name before collapsing and burying a sob in his hand, trying not to awaken Seungmin.

~ ~ ~

It took a few days before you agreed to meet with Jeongin, but you didn’t go to his dorm. You couldn’t tell Felix about this. You didn’t want to tell Jeongin, but when he called you in a shaky voice, you knew he was crying. It broke your heart. If this was Jeongin, you couldn’t imagine how Felix must feel.

You texted him the address and waited inside the set of double glass doors. Behind you, a bright pastel yellow soaked the walls. Bright and happy colors to try and pull you away from your impending doom. You tried to stay positive, but gloom haunted these halls.

You sensed it on the first day you moved in. Assigned to a small room with an attached bathroom. A closet to hold clothes, a desk with a single chair, and a TV stand welded into the wall with a flat screen TV.

The lilac bedding mocked you. The sage green walls reminded you of life. All the lush green things you’d leave behind. The simplest things like the scallions topping your scrambled eggs and the color of your favorite body wash.

Those that were more prominent; soft grass beneath your feet, the earthy and warm scent of ozone when rain approached darkened skies, the towering green swaying in the wind when you looked up in the middle of the forest.

The staff tried to make the outdoors exciting. Black metal benches perched around the exterior. In the back, a garden adorned with flowers blossoming in every direction. Ivy grown arches you could walk beneath. Stone bird baths that bright birds dipped their heads in and shimmied their feathers, no matter the weather.

You grew to hate the birds. Their happy warbles, their chirps, and the way they could flutter away from their problems with ease. You wished you could be a bird, it’d be so much easier than this.

When you spotted Jeongin’s car pull into the parking lot and enter a space, you finally pushed open one of the glass doors to approach him. He slowly stepped out of his car, staring at the red-bricked building in shock.

“Why are you-”

“Living in a hospice center? Because I was thinking about pregnancy and bringing another life into this earth.” You weakly chuckled, trying to lighten the mood, but Jeongin’s head shook.

“Why are you really here?”

“Because I’m dying, Jeongin.”

His face fell. You stared at him, taking in every small detail. The straight dark brows and half-moon eyes. Your heart would inflate with happiness when you made him laugh so hard, he leaned back and squeezed his eyes shut. As if shutting his eyes would make the humor disappear. Usually, it’d lead into more teasing and taunting. Today, an empty silence blanketed the two of you.

“What?”

“I have a terminal illness.”

“Terminal?”

“I can’t be cured, Jeongin.” You tried to smile and reassure him that you’d be fine, but you couldn’t get the corners of your mouth to lift high enough.

You pulled away from the people you loved because you denied it. Because maybe you couldn’t see their faces, feel their warmth, and go to bed at night, only for your brain to remind you that you’d be gone soon.

Terminal illness cannot be cured. Incurable. Irreversible. A punishment that nobody expects, but humans are doomed to fall victim to it, regardless.

When cancer riddles your body and leaves you broken.

When the brain’s functions decline and your cognitive ability starts to speed downhill like an olympic winter toboggan.

When disease infects a vital organ and tears apart the relationship it has with your body, it starts shutting down.

A variety of different kinds are out there. You just never thought it’d be you. Not at this age. Not at this point in your life. Not now.

You just started to live, but death is greedy. It takes and it takes and it takes. It is never enough. Death will never have enough. Hands soaked with blood and an engorged stomach full of souls and their fading warmth. Today, it looms behind you. Tomorrow, it steps closer.

Anxiety burrows and nausea builds, but we never escape it. There is no leaving this life without the help of death. Whether you deny it, or accept it, you denied it. Death is cruel and you learned it at a young age.

Family dinners grew smaller as it picked out family members. It took pets from the safety of the four walls that you called home. How do you live with the realization that you are meant to die sooner than most?

“You need to tell Lix. He’s broken without you. He’s miserable and-”

“I can’t,” you whispered. “I can’t do that to him and I won’t. He can’t know about this, Jeongin. This will destroy him.”

“It’ll destroy him more if he doesn’t know you’re suffering through this alone.”

“Innie...”

“Please, you-”

“Jeongin!” You snapped as tears burned in your lower lids. “I can’t tell my boyfriend I’m dying! I-I just-” Your bottom lip quivered. “I-I can’t! I can’t! I can’t!”

Sensing you were about to break, he reached out to steady you. That’s when your arms wrapped around him tightly. You sobbed in his arms, terrified of it all. What did you do to deserve this? How do you cope with the anxiety and accept that death is striding towards you without stopping?

Your own body, the thing saving you since birth, it’s not enough to shield your soul. Some higher power, some natural thing, it comes no matter what.

What a curse that your death came before your life could really begin.

~ ~ ~

The hospice center was imprinted on the inside of Jeongin’s eyelids. He couldn’t sleep. The nurses from earlier kept him up. How anyone found comfort by working with the dying, he didn’t know. People shouldn’t have to die, but they did.

Blocks away, you laid on your deathbed and Felix didn’t know. You knew, Jeongin knew, but not Felix. With each breath, the balloon of guilt grew. What if you died without Felix being able to say goodbye? It’d kill him. The guilt would drown him.

In a spur of the moment decision, he shoved off his blankets and pushed them off. He slipped on his slides, grabbed his car keys, and headed outside. On the way out of the dorm he shared with Chan, he dialed Felix’s number.

After midnight, Felix was half asleep at the window. Curled on the floor with a cheek pressed against the window seal, his eyes groggily opened at the sound of a vibration. He sniffled and sat up, swiping at the phone to answer the call. “Hello?”

“Felix?”

“Innie, are you okay? You sound worried. What’s wrong?” He sat up with a yawn. Brushing back his messy hair, he adjusted the phone to his ear when Jeongin blubbered. “What did you say?”

“I need you to come meet me in the driveway with my car in it.”

“Is something wrong?”

“You need to know something.”

“I’m coming.” He rushed into the apartment’s entryway and shoved his feet into his still-tied shoes. Jeongin hung up on him, waiting for his arrival.

He didn’t have to wait long. Felix appeared less than two minutes with his phone still in his hand. “Hey, are you alright?”

Tears pricked at Jeongin’s eyes and he shook his head. “I’m sorry, but I need to tell you. I called and talked to-”

Felix cut him off and stepped forward. “Really? They answered the phone? Are they okay?”

The words vacuumed from his throat. How do you tell someone you love their significant other is dying? You were back in a bed, surrounded by the fading souls of others, slowly dying. He shook his head frantically and pawed at his eyes with his sweater.

“They’re at a hospice facility. They said it’s a terminal illness, Lix.”

He couldn’t breathe. His dark eyes stayed focused on Jeongin. Through the dark, he reached out and gripped his wrist. “What kind of sick fucking joke are you playing, Jeongin?” He squeezed his wrist tighter, too afraid to face the truth.

“You’re hurting me,” he whispered. He tried to tug away, but Felix squeezed harder. “I can take you there. I’ll take you there right now. I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t keep it a secret. I can’t watch you suffer. Neither of you. I-I can’t.”

“How long do they have left?”

“The doctors are saying three months at most.”

“What hospice place?”

“The one right by the catholic church on-”

Felix didn’t wait for an answer. He spun around and took off into the darkness of the night. Jeongin called his name, but he didn’t stop. You were dying and he didn’t know. You didn’t break up with him because you hated him, you called it quits because you were dying.

White street lights blurred through his tears. Each one put a spotlight on his silhouette. Cruel higher powers watched in mockery. What happened to God and prayers? What happened to prayers being answered?

He couldn’t breathe. The air in his lungs ran out back in the driveway. It came out in whimpers and pants for air. His throat suffocated. You weren’t meant for the earth to take back. The ground couldn’t hold you like he could. It wasn’t warm enough. You’d never be able to see the sun from six feet below.

Immortalization and praise. Paradise and pleasure. The family he’d never get to start. His legs pushed harder, he ran faster. The wind roared through his hair and he screamed your name in the darkness.

He wanted an outstretched hand. An explanation. A cure. Something to bring you back and keep you alive. He’d give it all up to save you. Whatever organ you needed, you could have his. He’d die if it meant you could stay alive. Anything you needed, he’d give it. He’d give his everything to keep you safe.

The heavy thumps of his heart, the ticking time bomb of yours. Every breath he took, another you lost. He ran in your direction, stumbling and screeching your name. You slept soundlessly in a dreamless sleep.

Near the end of the road, the curb caught his ankle. He jerked forward, shoving out his hands to stop himself. The pavement scraped and drew blood. God kicked him in the back, a reminder that not even the bravest and loyalist believers could stop his will from unwinding.

Shaky breaths turned into choked out sobs. A dog with no home. A lover with no life. You were everything to him. What happens when everything is ripped away? When the goals are jerked from the journal before the accomplishments? Your body withered away and yet, you still craved life.

Headlights shone behind him. He dropped to the ground defeated. His fingernails dug into the concrete and a sob escaped his throat. Familiar voices called his name. Chan got there before Jeongin.

He pulled up the younger member and tugged him to his chest tight. Felix uttered your name again, unable to stop the louder sobs. The current of life changed. The tides shifted and pulled you under.

You cannot always save the people you love, especially not in the snarling face of death.

~ ~ ~

In the morning, you awoke to something soft stroking your cheek. You mumbled Jeongin’s name, thinking he somehow stumbled into your room. Instead, you found the familiar eyes of your boyfriend. His lips quivered before they smiled.

“Hi, there.”

“Lix?”

“Yeah, it’s me. I’m sorry. Jeongin told me everything and I’m not leaving you on your own for this.”

You couldn’t be mad. Maybe, deep down, you told Jeongin because you knew he’d tell Felix. It’d take the pressure off of you. You’d never be able to explain it in full detail without breaking down.

Perhaps, you’d been chasing your tail in denial because now that Felix was here, acceptance slipped between the two of you. A silent, but necessary evil. Neither of you could stop this ending. You’d try to do whatever it took, but people don’t leave hospice alive.

“I should be the one apologizing,” you whispered. “I was selfish.”

“You were scared. This is scary. It’s better to be scared together.”

“I didn’t want to disappoint you. I feel like I ruined you. I made you fall in love and now…”

“You could never disappoint me.” He leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to your temple. “I love you and you’re mine.”

“I love you, too.”

“Scoot over. I’m not leaving you here to fight this alone.”

~ ~ ~

You loved one another endlessly and it flowed effortlessly. Your love ended in a doomsday. Your time was limited. Felix took a hiatus, wanting to be there with you through everything.

You refused to let your terminal illness break you. The first two weeks, it almost felt like staying at a hotel, if you took away the staff members coming in to check on you. Felix stayed with you after purchasing an air mattress. He refused to let you be alone.

In the third week, he brought you a notebook and a pen. You stared at it with a raised eyebrow. “What’s this for?”

“I figured you could make a bucket list.”

“But I’m in hospice?”

“It doesn’t mean you can’t dream. I mean, they probably won’t recommend you go skydiving, but there’s other things you can do.”

He leaned forward, gently taking the pen from your hand. He wrote a bullet point and the words ‘fancy dinner.’ You glanced over and chuckled. “Really?”

“What? I’m thinking of something really nice. Whatever you want, just let me know. Steak? Sushi? Korean Barbeque? You just let me know and we’ll go.” He reached over, gently booping the tip of your nose with the pen, and placed it back in your dominant hand.

You glanced down at the empty stripes of notebook paper. A bucket list wasn’t really something you thought much of, especially now that you were in hospice. You bit your lip, wanting to think of something.

“I’ve got it!” You jerked forward, scribbling something out. “That’s what I wanna do.”

Felix’s face softened. “Really? You mean it?”

“A hundred percent. Of course, I mean it. I don’t know how. Not enough time, but I think if we-”

“We’ll figure it out.”

You nodded and your eyes met his. He couldn’t stop himself from leaning over and hugging you in a tight hug. A quick kiss to your nose, right where the pen tapped you. Your arms returned the favor. A soft sigh escaped your lips and you relaxed.

You’d be okay dying in his arms like this. ~ ~ ~

Death lingered, but you roared. Using what time you had left, you did it all. In a final trip at the grocery store, you and Felix argued over what flavor of milk was better. Strawberry or chocolate? It lasted nearly the entire shopping trip.

The two of you went back to his dorm. Seungmin went over to bother Changbin and Hyunjin. You’d seen the guys in passing, but you didn’t see them too much. They all grew fond of you. Seeing you now and knowing you’d be gone soon, it was a hard pill to swallow.

“You’re going to burn the vegetables!” You called over your shoulder.

“Hey! No, I’m not!” Felix laughed and stirred the multicolored veggies in the pan. “Shut up and focus on your own dish.”

“Telling a dying person to shut up is crazy work.”

“I didn’t mean it like that! Come ‘er!”

You let him grab your waist and spin you around. A dizziness settled over you. You smiled, regardless. His hands slipped to your hips and he gently squeezed. The fullness of your body melted away the less and less you consumed.

Your fancy dinner turned into a home cooked meal. Not that you were complaining, it beat hospice food. You were due to return there later tonight. Until then, you and Felix were up to your usual antics.

You teased him and he teased you. You playfully bumped into one another, careful enough not to cause accidents. Felix placed you in a kiss the cook apron. Every time he could, he snuck kisses on your bare skin. Not sure how much time you had left, he took advantage of it.

You squeaked and shivered as he pushed another soft kiss into the back of your neck. “You can’t do that! That’s cheating!”

He mocked you in a high-pitched voice. You spun around, reaching out to weakly grip his throat. You started to laugh, but it turned to coughing. The playful energy in the air ceased instantly.

“Easy, easy. I’m sorry.” He pushed your hair back from your face. “Deep breath in and out.” His other hand went to your back, rubbing it to support you. “Do you need some water?”

You nodded, a little embarrassed you ruined the fun. Just when you forgot you were dying, it came back to bite you in the ass. A brutal reminder that each second between the two of you was precious.

He gently squeezed your shoulder before walking away and heading to the cupboard. He grabbed a glass and you forced slow deep breaths. Your body shut down more and more as the days went by.

You could feel it. Your limbs felt heavier. Your body, more sluggish. Your brain became slower. Thoughts were on the tip of your tongue and then disappeared.

When he reappeared with a glass of ice water, he pushed it to your chapped lips. You tipped your head back and slowly sipped. It soothed the aching sides of your throat. For whatever reason, your mouth felt drier; an interior sahara desert that you couldn’t shake.

“Let’s take it easier, yeah?”

You hummed. He pulled the water away and sat it on the counter. You hated to admit it, but the hospice staff were right. They allowed you to venture out with Felix, as long as you were up for it, but warned you that as time went on, you probably wouldn’t have the energy.

All the extra oomph and fun on your bucket list, you had to make adjustments. Hospice staff wanted you checked in at certain times. You were supposed to be an inpatient. You assumed they let you slip out more than usual because you were younger.

Some of the older people were stuck in their beds. Heavy limbs, death rattles, and the faint whirring of oxygen tanks. Death wasn’t a constant thing. Some people had a few weeks and others were like you, they had a few months left.

Regardless, a hospice inpatient center wasn’t a good place for a rowdy couple still head-over-heels in love. You wanted to run. They lectured you. When you laughed too hard at something Felix said while a nurse checked on you, she shot the two of you an unamused glare.

Not because she was mean, but because she grew worried. All the laughing and screwing around, it wasted your energy. You didn’t want to conserve it. You couldn’t. Death was coming and your time was still limited.

“Felix?”

“Yeah, babe?”

“I think we should do that last thing on our bucket list this week.”

He glanced back to look at you over his shoulder. His heart ached, knowing what that meant, but he nodded. “I’ll talk to the guys and we’ll do it.”

“I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

“Stop getting so sappy, you’re going to make me burn the vegetables.” He stuck his tongue out and laughed at you.

“You started it!”

~ ~ ~

Two days later, the two of you stood in thrifted outfits. You held hands out in the back of Chan and Jeongin’s dorm. The rest of the guys speckled around. Jeongin stood with a bible open. “I’m so glad I get to carry out my dream of becoming a priest before you die.”

“You’re welcome.”

The guys sat in a plethora of lawn chairs. Jeongin stood beneath a gazebo and glanced between you and Felix. “Are the two of you ready to begin?” The sun and the guys became your witnesses.

You nodded and Felix agreed. His thumbs slowly brushed along the back of your hand. Jeongin sighed and read off a random passage of vows he found online. “Do you take Lee Felix to be your lawfully wedded husband, to have and to hold, from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, until death do you part?”

Felix blinked rapidly, squeezing your hands a little tighter. You smiled and nodded your head. “I do.”

“And Felix, do you take-”

“Shut up. I do. Of course, I do. Lawfully wedded spouse, from this day forward, better, or worse, or whatever. In sickness and until death do us part. Blah, blah, blah. I don’t care about that part. I just want to kiss you.”

In the background, laughter appeared. Jeongin sighed and shut the bible. “Well, I guess I didn’t need that. Go ahead, you may kiss the-”

Gasps filled the air. You squealed. Felix wrapped an arm around you and dipped you down, causing one of your feet to leave the ground. When the warmth of his lips met yours, your hands cupped his cheeks.

Jeongin blinked rapidly, trying not to cry. A few of the others looked the same way. When Felix pulled away and placed you back on your feet, a warm and fuzzy feeling filled your heart. He grinned at you and booped your nose.

“Alright,” Chan clapped in the background and shoved himself to his feet. “It’s time to cook the lamb and sides. Who wants to do what?”

When you offered to do something, he shook his head and waved you away with Felix. “I think Felix wanted to discuss something with you.” He winked at Felix and spun around, dishing out roles to the other guys.

You glance back to find Felix. He smiled and grabbed your hand. “Yeah, sorry. I wanted to do the ring exchange away from everyone.”

“Oh, I forgot about the rings. That’s one of the most important parts and I-”

“It’s okay, I’ve got it.” He grabbed your hand and led you away from the guys and the grill. Across the way, he stopped in his and Seungmin’s backyard.

As carefully as he could, he pulled out a velvet box from his pocket and opened it to reveal two rings. Your face softened instantly. “They’re gorgeous.” The pair of rings sat snug between black velvet padding.

“I got us both rings with our birthstone colors. Mine is sapphire, but it doesn’t matter. You can either pick that, or yours. It’s entirely up to you.”

“I want yours. I want to take a piece of you with me to the grave.”

“Do you have to remind me that you’re dying so often?”

“I can’t let you forget.”

He playfully rolled his eyes, grabbed the sapphire jeweled ring, and slowly placed it on your ring finger. You picked out yours and grabbed his hand. You hesitated for a moment, noting how warm his hands were. Lately, yours has lost their warmth far too quickly for your liking.

“Hey, are you okay? It’s okay if you want that ring, really, it-”

“I’m okay. Just thinking.” You slipped the ring on his ring finger and held it up to the sparkling sun. “This fits you well. It looks beautiful with your skin tone.”

“And the band color matches. Look at us. We did it! Kinda. We’re married! In theory, that’s all that matters.”

You laughed and nodded. He reached out, cupping the side of your cheek. He kissed your forehead affectionately and pulled back. “Before we go back to the others, I wanted to read something I wrote to you.”

He pulled a folded piece of paper from the breast pocket of his suit and stepped back. “If you were to tell me our love story would end with you dying months ago, I would have laughed. I would have dubbed it absurd and moved on with my life. Over these past few weeks, my world has shattered, b-but-” He choked up. “You’ve managed to help me rebuild it in ways that I didn’t think possible.”

“I’ve always feared death. I’ve hated it. It’s sat on my shoulder and haunted me since I was younger. Out of the two of us, you’re the first to cross the rainbow bridge. I like to think that heaven is as big and beautiful as you imagine it to be.”

“Whatever happens, it must be good because people usually don’t return from death.” A weak chuckle fell from your throat and he continued. “But please know, you’re welcome to come back at any time. If you find out that you can haunt people, my house is always open.”

He didn’t dare look up at you. Not yet. “Our love is immeasurable for one another. I don’t think the spirit realm can stop it either. The devil can try, but I believe we’re untouchable and-”

He shook his head and wrinkled the ball of paper. “I’m sorry, it’s stupid. I should have worked better on it.”

“Nah, I’m glad you let me know I can haunt you. I’m going to take you up on that offer. Maybe try a ouija board or something? We’ll come up with a code word to let you know I’m okay.”

“Like?”

“Maybe a symbol, or something.” You shrugged. “I’ve always thought Monarch butterflies were pretty.”

“Monarchs it is.”

“Speaking of butterflies,” you reached down and took something from your own pocket. “I didn’t write vows because I couldn’t think of any, but I bought a disposable camera. I thought maybe we could take photos throughout today and the next few days. You can look back on them after I’m gone.”

“That’s really beautiful. Can I take one of you?” You nodded. He turned on the camera, stepped back, and adjusted the frame. When he found the right angle he clicked, lighting up your eyes with a bright flash.

“You’re a natural at posing.”

You stared at him for a moment. A halo of sunlight shrouded you. He wanted to remember this brief moment forever. Your eyes went to the ground before finding his “Felix?”

“Yeah?”

“I don’t want to die,” you finally admitted. Tears filled your eyes. “I’m so scared. I don’t want to go alone.”

He leaned forward, shutting off the camera, and wrapping you in a hug. He pulled your head to his chest. “I don’t think you’ll be alone. It’s been documented that some people see their passed loved ones before they go. I think they’ll be waiting for you on the other side.”

“You really think so?”

“I hope so. I want to see my grandma again. If you see her, please give her the biggest hug for me, will you? She always gave the best hugs.”

Your arms tightened around him. Your head dipped against his chest. His heart beat rhythmically. A painful pang of envy cut through you and you hated yourself for it. It wasn’t his fault your body was giving up.

You sniffled. Tears soaked his suit, but he didn’t complain. He didn’t fight it. Instead, he gently placed the point of his chin on top of your head. His arms shielded you. You should have physically lived forever. His heart wasn’t the right place to carry your memory. He wanted you here forever.

His eyes went over to the side. A few yards over, the guys talked and laughed. This was hard on them too, but they tried not to let the two of you see how much it bothered them. Death was hard for everyone. It wasn’t fair.

It wasn’t fair that all these people he loved would be gone one day. Where would they end up? How? How do we keep going after the people we love are gone? Being human is such a poetic tragedy. So much beauty. So much pain. A chaotic mindfuck of emotions, too short and insufferably long; how rare and beautiful it is to exist.

“When the time is right, I’m going to come find you and hold you just like this,” Felix finally uttered.

“Promise?”

“Of course, I promise.”

“And in the meantime, you have to keep making good music. I’ll come back to haunt you. You should talk to me and tell me how life is. I’ll find a way to communicate, somehow.”

“I believe it.”

You pulled away from his chest and sniffled again. “Are we deluding ourselves?”

“Probably, but it feels better that way.” He pressed another kiss to the tip of your nose. “We should probably go before the food gets done and the guys eat it all. Changbin and Han would.”

“It’s not nice to throw them under the bus like that.” You took his hand and led him back to them.

“It’s true and you know it. After this? We’ll have some of that cake I made.”

About that time, Hyunjin came out of the back door with a square sheet of cake and a candle. Not yet lit, he slowly walked it over to the pair. The happy birthday song left his lips. Right as he nearly approached, he stumbled and slipped.

Gasps sounded and Hyunjin shrieked. He jerked upright with wide eyes. The cake crumbled into pieces. He peeked out from beneath the vanilla buttercream frosting on his face. “I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to! I-”

“Why did you sing happy birthday?” You asked.

“I couldn’t think of a wedding song from the top of my head.”

You lost it. A giggle burst from your stomach. You laughed, curling down and clutching your stomach. Felix joined in and the rest hesitated. Changbin was the first to break into high pitched laughter, pointing at Hyunjin. Hyunjin threw him the middle finger and that broke the rest of them.

Han reached down, pulled a fingerful of cake from Hyunjin’s cheek, and put it in his mouth. “Wow, it’s still good. Great job, Yongbok. Hyunjin, uh-” He glanced down. “You should learn to walk better.”

“I’ll kill you!” Hyunjin’s dark eyes widened and a hand clamped over his mouth. “Wrong thing. I didn’t mean to say that. I just-” He got up and bowed to you. Cake crumbs and rich white icing slathered his face and suit. Feeling horrible, he wanted to disappear. When he bowed, bits of destroyed cake hit the ground.

You couldn’t be mad. None of you could. Nothing about this was traditional. It was one last party. A marriage. A celebration of life. It was everything tied all together. Later, your family and more friends were showing up.

Everything all at once because your tomorrow wasn’t promised.

You glanced over your shoulder, grinning at Felix. “Hey, we might as well take another picture and put that camera to good use.”

~ ~ ~

You died three days later. After that last big hoo-rah, you dwindled quite rapidly. You tried to put on a brave face for Felix and everyone, but he saw through your exhausted facade quickly.

For those three days, it was a lot of quiet conversation in the stillness of the hospice room. The sage green walls and the chirps of the birds from your open window. You shifted to watch them, unable to stand watching the television.

Everything ached. It didn’t hurt, it just ached, as if you ran an entire marathon without stretching and pacing yourself. IV fluids pumped you full of meds, trying to make the last bits of life as comfortable for you as possible.

Felix forced himself to harness peace in the moments of your sleeping silence. When your chest rose and fell, a sure sign you were still alive. He pushed your hair from your face, gently planting kisses on your colorless skin.

The warm color disappeared. As your illness strengthened inside you, you weakened. You tried to be the bigger person, hiding your fear, but on that last night, you knew your time was coming.

You curled up to Felix, unable to let go. You didn’t eat. Instead, you shifted to his chest, listening to the steady wallop of his heart. “Felix?” You whispered

“Hmm?”

“I think my biggest fear isn’t death itself. I think it’s leaving you behind. I gave you all my love for nothing. I feel like I gave you this burden.”

“You’re not a burden and this isn’t a burden. Don’t talk like that.” He wiped a tear away from your cheek. “You’ve been my greatest adventure.”

Your bottom lip quivered. “You mean it?”

“Every last word.”

You stayed entangled like that for hours until he had to use the bathroom. You were half asleep, drifting away. He kissed the top of your temple and then your nose, promising to be right back. It only took a few minutes, but it was long enough.

When he came back and shifted you, he jerked back as if he’d been slapped. He sprinted away, calling for assistance. The pastel yellow walls mocked him. Tears filled his eyes as he explained the situation to one of the nurses. The stillness and fading warmth of your skin.

In your final act of mercy, you waited to go until he was tucked safely in the bathroom. He didn’t see the way your sleepy eyes followed him into the bathroom. Your breath caught in your chest after he shut the door. You couldn’t get it back, but you didn’t panic.

Your body filled with helium. You floated. One last final gasp and your eyes drifted shut. A soul laid to rest, slipping to the other side, and diving into the sympathy of warmth.

You left the world knowing you were loved and even if it was short, that was the most important part.

~ ~ ~

At the funeral, the heaviness wasn’t as bad as Felix expected. Of course, he missed you. They all did. Maybe it hurt a little less because they knew it was coming. He stole as many kisses as he could. The next would have to wait until he joined you on the other side.

He blotted his eyes as the preacher spoke. In the cemetery burial, he spoke to your loved ones. Sniffling and teary eyed, Jeongin stepped up beside him. “Felix?”

“Yeah?” He glanced over his shoulder.

“Why does death have to be so hard?”

“Because it can’t live. It takes lives because of envy. It tries to capture and cage something it can never obtain.”

“I miss them.”

“Me too.”

He pulled a white rose from a vase and approached your coffin. Jeongin tagged along behind him. Felix stepped up first. He glanced at the stained wood, hoping that wherever you were, you finally found peace. He placed the white rose in the center of the coffin.

Before he could speak, something tickled his hand. Glancing down, the fluttering wings of a monarch butterfly. Tears welled in his eyes immediately. “You missed me so much, you came back this quickly, huh?”

Behind him, Jeongin peered over Felix’s shoulder. “Is that a monarch butterfly? What is it doing here? It’s too early for monarchs.” He stepped forward and slowly eased his rose next to Felix’s.

“It’s them,” he whispered. The wings flapped again and went to the edge of his suit. He blinked wet eyes and smiled. “I love you.”

Just as Jeongin was about to remove his hand from the coffin, Felix gasped. Jeongin’s head turned and his eyes widened. On the tip of Felix’s nose, the winged creature sat unbothered.

“Woah, didn’t you used to always kiss their nose?”

“I called them my butterfly kisses.” Silent tears trickled down his cheeks. “They came back. One more kiss before they go.”

I love you, too.

After a few more seconds, the butterfly flapped its wings and took off. Their eyes followed it higher and higher into the air. They exchanged another look and Felix smiled. He chuckled and wipe away falling tears

You might not be there in person anymore, but you’d always be with them in spirit.

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