#sanxreader

[armpirate]

Like We Were || Choi San

pairing: San x fem!reader || Forgotten love

w.c.: 15.6k

Warnings: smut, dirty talk, car sex, protected sex (Minors DNI! Refrain from reading if you're not +18, and ignore if you don't like this type of content), angst

Aprox. time of reading: 40 / 50 minutes

Summary: San's world turned upside down after the accident, but he felt it completely broke the moment he knew about your state. You forgot everything. Him, your relationship, everything you had built together... For a while, he thought letting go would be the best choice. The thought of him turning into a stranger after you two were each other's lives was something hard to handle. But living without you was a worst kind of pain. That was why, he'd help you remember, without you knowing the cute guy that you met at the bar was the person you hugged to sleep every night.

MASTERLIST

The music was loud -some mix of funky beats and synth pop- but San could still hear the soft clink of the ice in your glass from across the bar. You were seated at the far end, alone, just like that first time. Just like before. 

He leaned against the brick wall, half in shadow, fingers drumming a slow rhythm against his thigh. The denim of his jacket was worn in all the places your hands used to touch. You always tugged on his sleeves when you laughed, like he was something to hold onto. 

You weren't laughing now. 

You looked... calm. Pretty. Like nothing was missing. 

Except everything was. 

You didn't notice him. Not yet. 

And just like the first time, some guy, button-down open too far -smile too wide-, saw you sitting there and made his move. 

San stiffened, exhaling slowly through his nose. 

He'd timed it. He knew this was when it happened, when you got approached and rolled your eyes so hard he could feel your annoyance from across the room. He'd used that moment to swoop in, smug and playful, pretending to be your boyfriend just to get the creep to back off. It worked like a charm. You laughed, he stayed. And you two talked until the bar closed. 

It was the beginning of everything. 

So this had to work. 

He watched closely now, waiting for the same flicker of irritation on your face, but it didn't come. Instead, you smiled politely at the guy. Laughed, even. Tucked your hair behind your ear like you were actually interested. 

San felt the sharp stab of something he didn't want to name. 

The guy leaned in, too close, and San couldn't stay back anymore. He pushed off the wall and crossed the bar with purpose in his step, heartbeat hammering, sweat pooling at the base of his neck. He rehearsed his lines a thousand times in his head. 

Same as before. Same as before. Same as before. 

He stopped at your table, resting his hand on the back of your chair like it belonged there. 

"Hey, baby," he said, trying to keep it light, teasing. "Sorry I'm late. You didn't wait long, did you?" 

You blinked up at him, surprised. The man sitting across from you frowned, shifting in his seat. 

"Excuse me?" you said, brows furrowing. 

Your voice was soft, unfamiliar even in its familiarity. 

San's smile didn't falter. He had practiced it in the mirror, wanting to do it just like that first night. "You know I hate it when you start drinking without me" he gave the other man a polite smile that didn't reach his eyes. "Mind giving us a minute, bro?" 

The man looked between you both, clearly annoyed. But you didn't say anything. You just looked at San like he was an inconvenient glitch in your night, not someone your soul used to orbit around. 

"Whatever," the guy muttered, grabbing his beer and walking away. 

Silence settled between you and San, heavier than the bass vibrating through the walls. 

He expected you to be angry, confused. Maybe even impressed like last time. But instead, you stared at him with narrowed eyes and a bemused smile. 

"That was... bold," you said, tilting your head. "Do I know you?" 

The words punched the air from his lungs like a second car crash. 

Those were the words he was so scared to hear when he first knew of your state after the accident. 

He didn't visit you a single time you were in the hospital after you woke up, he was sure he wouldn't have been able to bear the idea of you not remembering him. He couldn't bear the idea of not being part of your life any longer. 

That was why he asked your friends to erase any trace of him from your apartment, from your phone... He was about to let go, until he thought that maybe that was his chance to start it all over again, to live again the beauty of falling for you, and you falling for him. 

You in that pub wasn't a coincidence. Not at all. 

He chuckled softly, looking down for a second to hide the devastation in his eyes. "Kind of," he murmured. "We've met. Once or twice." 

You looked at him for a long beat. Not with recognition. Not with love. But... curiosity. 

"Well, if you're going to crash my night, you might as well sit down." 

He blinked. 

You gestured to the seat across from you, and he moved slowly, cautiously -as if the world might fall apart again if he moved too fast. 

He sat. 

You sipped your drink, watching him over the rim of your glass. "So... is this a thing you do often? Pretend to be someone's boyfriend to scare off competition?" 

San let out a soft laugh, rubbing the back of his neck. "Only when I'm desperate." 

There was a pause. You tilted your head. "And are you?" 

He met your gaze. For the first time in weeks, you were looking directly at him. Really looking. 

His voice was low, gentle. "I lost something important. I'm just trying to find it again." 

You didn't answer right away. You just stared at him, lips twitching like they were debating whether or not to smile.  And then -unexpectedly, softly- you did. You smiled. Not because you remembered. Not because you knew what he meant, but because something about him felt warm. Like a song you hadn't heard in years but still knew how to hum. 

"Okay, mystery man," you said, tapping your glass against his. "Tell me the story of that thing you're missing, then."

He looked at you, breath catching in his throat. And this time, he let himself hope.

You sat across from him, your finger tracing lazy circles against the condensation on your glass, looking at him attentively as he refused to talk about himself, to go deep in anything that wasn't the moment between you two. And it made you suspicious, but also curious. 

"So?" you asked, lips quirking at the corners. "Are you gonna tell me your name, or are we doing the whole mysterious stranger at the bar thing tonight?"

He smirked. 

God, it was exactly like the first time. 

That smug, amused curl of your lips, that cocky tone as you tilted your head. And he tried to mimic the way he reacted to it, mirroring your smirk. Only this time, there was something behind it. Something heavy in his eyes, buried just deep enough that you couldn't quite reach it.

"No names," he said smoothly, leaning forward with his elbows on the table. "It ruins the fantasy."

You raised a brow, playing along without thinking. "Oh? And what fantasy is that?"

"The one where you fall in love with me for the night," he replied, not missing a beat. "No expectations. No promises. Just... this."

Your heart skipped, maybe from the way he said it, or maybe from the way he looked at you, like he was seeing more than what was on the surface. It was unnerving, but oddly comforting.

You didn't know him. But something about him felt like déjà vu.

"Hmm," you said, swirling the last of your drink. "Sounds like a line you've used before."

He chuckled under his breath. "Once or twice."

You narrowed your eyes. "Do I look like the kind of girl who falls for strangers in bars?"

"You look like the kind of girl who pretends she doesn't," he said, a hint of challenge in his voice. "Right before she steals the guy's lighter and walks out with his heart."

You laughed before you could stop yourself, and it caught you off guard. It felt... real.

"So you think you've got me all figured out?"

"Not yet," he murmured, gaze softening. "But I'd like to."

The words hung between you like a dare.

You leaned back in your seat, crossing your legs, testing him. "Then why don't you tell me something about yourself? Something small."

He hesitated. Not because he didn't want to, but because every answer he had was yours. Every story he could tell was tied to memories you no longer carried. 

So instead, he reached for a lie wrapped in truth. 

"I box," he said. 

You tilted your head. "Box?" 

"Yeah. Keeps me sane." he looked down, twisting his ring, a nervous habit he didn't even know he still had. "Started when I was fifteen. Got serious around twenty. It's... one of the only things I'm good at." 

"That's not true," you said quietly, before your brain caught up with your mouth. 

He looked up sharply, for a second, excited about you possibly remembering something. You blinked, confused at yourself. "I mean, you don't look like someone who only has one skill."

A small smile crept across his face. "You think I look talented, huh?" 

"I think you look like you think you're talented."

He let out a breathy laugh and pressed a hand to his chest. "Oof. Beautiful and brutal. You really haven't changed." 

You froze for a split second. 

"What?" 

"Nothing," he said quickly, waving it off. "Just... déjà vu." 

You stared at him, something prickling at the edge of your mind. That look again. Like he knew you too well for a stranger. Like he was holding a secret in his mouth, keeping it safe. 

"Alright, mysterious boxer," you said, sitting up straighter. "If we're doing this no-names thing, then I get to make up your backstory." 

He grinned. "Oh yeah?" 

"Yeah. Let's see..." you tapped your chin, pretending to study him. "You're probably a spoiled rich kid, dropped out of business school, got into the underground fighting for the thrill." 

"Interesting." 

"You can drive a car" you continued, "but you ended up with a motorbike because it makes you feel free. You say you hate attention, but you love the way people look at you."

He laughed again, but this one hurt a little. Because it was true. All of it. You were remembering pieces without knowing you were. 

"And what about you?" he asked, trying to push through the lump in his throat. "What's your story?" 

You looked down at your empty glass, suddenly quiet. 

"I don't know yet," you said, half-joking. "Still figuring it out." 

He swallowed hard.

"Then let me stick around a little," he said softly. "See how it turns out." 

You looked at him, eyes searching. Something pulled inside your chest, like the faint echo of a melody you used to dance to in the dark. 

"Okay," you said. "But no names. Just for tonight."

He smiled, genuine, heartbreakingly sweet. "Deal." 

And as the bartender slid two more drinks toward your table, San let himself fall into the lie a little deeper.  Because if he couldn't make you remember, he'd make you fall in love again. 

San had chosen the same quiet little café for your "first date", the place where you'd spent hours sipping overpriced lattes, talking about everything and nothing all at once. He'd kept it simple, just like that night. The table by the window, the soft hum of the city outside, the warm, golden glow of the café lights wrapping around the two of you like a blanket.

It was perfect, or it should have been.

He'd prepared for this moment. Everything was planned. Even the awkwardness that he had to recreate. 

But as soon as the waitress dropped off the drinks and San reached for his, he fumbled. His fingers brushed against the edge of the cup, and the entire thing tipped over.

Splash. 

The coffee spilled across the table, splashing onto his lap and soaking the front of his white shirt. San pressed his lips together, omitting the huge sigh after he managed to ruin the t-shirt you bought for him. 

On your first day, he wore one of his favorite t-shirts before he ruined it by accidentally spilling the coffee over him -which, later, would end up with one of the most touching gifts you'd ever given him: the same shirt, brand new and clean. 

He went through the same, although this time, it wasn't accidental. He spilled the coffee on purpose and he was wearing the same t-shirt you bought him. 

It had been so embarrassing the first time. The coffee had scalded him, leaving him with a red mark on his skin. You'd laughed so hard that night, teasing him endlessly as he frantically tried to clean himself up. 

But now, instead of laughing, you stood up, your face immediately flooded with worry. 

"Oh my God, San, are you okay?" you reached across the table, instinctively grabbing a napkin, your hands trembling slightly as you dabbed at the wet spots on his shirt. 

He watched you, caught between confusion and guilt. This was supposed to be fun. This was supposed to be a game. 

"You're supposed to laugh," he said with a nervous chuckle, his tone strained as he shifted awkwardly in his seat. "You always laugh when I do this." 

But you didn't laugh. You were too focused on him, on making sure he wasn't hurt. 

"San, you're burning up!" you looked down at his shirt and noticed the red splotch from the coffee. The way his face twisted in discomfort made something in your chest tighten. 

"I'm fine," he lied, wiping at the coffee stain with his napkin, still trying to brush it off like it was just another part of the act. 

But when you kept leaning forward, your eyes full of concern, he felt that same vulnerability creep up on him, the one he tried so hard to bury. The one that always came to the surface when you'd showed him a kindness that had no ulterior motive.

You didn't pull back. Instead, you leaned closer, your fingers brushing against his skin as you carefully checked the burn mark, trying to gauge how serious it was. 

"Please, let me take a look at it," you said quietly, your voice shaky with worry. 

San's chest tightened, and his heart hammered in his ribcage. This wasn't how it was supposed to go. He was supposed to make you remember. He was supposed to recreate the fun, the banter, the way things were before. 

But instead, he felt like he was falling apart in front of you. 

"Hey, it's really nothing," he insisted, trying to pull away, but your grip tightened. 

"No, it's not nothing," you said, your voice softer now, almost as if you were reassuring yourself. "This could leave a scar. What if it gets worse? You're not fine, San." 

He finally allowed you to inspect the burn, the cool concern in your touch contrasting sharply with the heat that still lingered on his skin. It made his breath hitch, but you weren't teasing him. You weren't laughing at his clumsiness. You were genuinely worried about him.

It was so... different. It wasn't the playful teasing he remembered. It wasn't the way you used to mock him for every little thing. You were taking this seriously, as though he was the important thing at this moment. Not the game. Not the memories he was trying to recreate. 

You met his gaze, your eyes full of something, something close to panic.

"Are you sure you're okay?" you asked again, more insistent now. "Maybe you should go to the hospital and..."

"No," he interrupted, his voice tight. "I'm fine. Really. It's not as bad as it looks." 

But you didn't seem convinced, still gently dabbing at his shirt, your touch careful and concerned, the weight of your eyes never leaving him. It made him feel seen in a way he hadn't been before. The memory of that first date -the teasing, the laughter- felt like something out of a past life now, replaced by a deep, undeniable care he didn't know how to handle.

"I think we need to get you cleaned up," you said, standing up. "Come on. I'm taking you to the restroom." 

He followed you, unable to hide the tightness in his chest, the way his pulse quickened. This wasn't the same. It wasn't supposed to be like this. And yet, the way you gently guided him toward the restroom made him realize that maybe... maybe this was better. The way you worried about him, your eyes soft but full of something deeper, made him feel like he wasn't a stranger to you. Even if you couldn't remember who he was, the connection was still there. Unspoken, yet undeniable. 

When you reached the restroom, you immediately pulled paper towels from the dispenser, and as you handed him a few, your fingers brushed his.  The smallest touch sent a shiver through his spine. 

"You're not making this easy," he muttered, his voice laced with that same nervous humor he'd used to cover his discomfort, but there was no bite to it now. Just a soft, vulnerable edge.

You gave him a smile that didn't quite reach your eyes, but it was warm, and you were still checking him over. 

"I know," you said, your voice gentle. "But I need to make sure you're okay, San." 

And for the first time since everything had shifted, since the accident, since the loss of memories, San wondered if maybe, just maybe, you were remembering him in a way he could never fully understand. 

He was disappointed at first, but not anymore. 

It was late when you both ended up outside the apartment building. He had to pretend you were guiding him when, actually, he knew the steps there by heart. He could've easily been blinded and he still would've found his way to your door. 

The city buzzed quietly around you, muted streetlights casting gold halos across the wet pavement, the air still damp from an earlier drizzle. San walked beside you, his hands tucked into the pockets of his jacket, his shoulder brushing against yours every few steps.

He was quiet. 

You were too. 

The kind of silence that felt almost sacred. Like something was waiting to happen. 

He'd walked you home. Just like that first night. After coffee and ruined shirts, after shy smiles and missed glances, he'd done exactly what he did all those years ago: offered to walk you back, pretending it was "just in case." Pretending he wasn't already hopelessly caught in your orbit. 

But this time, the orbit felt unfamiliar to you. You didn't recognize the gravity between you. Not logically. 

Only emotionally. 

There was something there. Something unspoken.

You reached the front steps, turning to face him, and he stopped just a breath too close. He looked at you the same way he had back then, like he was trying to memorize your features, like the weight of the moment sat heavy on his chest. 

"I'm not gonna ask to come up," he said softly, almost repeating the words he'd used the first time. "That's not how I do things."

You tilted your head. "But you want to come up, don't you?"

A small, surprised smile tugged at his lips. "Yeah. But... Eventually."

"Eventually... That means you're confident on a second date" you teased him. 

"I know there will be"

You both laughed, gently, though yours was more confused than amused. Something about that vibe felt familiar, like you had lived it before. Although you couldn't tell. Not clearly. It was like catching pieces of a dream you weren't sure you'd had. But the way your body reacted to him -how your heart raced, how the tips of your fingers tingled when he stepped a little closer- it made it hard to ignore the sense of déjà vu. 

He licked his lips, suddenly nervous. 

His mind started flooding with memories from that night. He kissed you for the first time there, while you were leaning against the railing, with that half-smile that always drove him crazy. A smile that told him you already knew what was about to happen, but you were just waiting to know if he dared to do it. 

He blinked at you, caught between then and now. Because you were the same person, but your eyes were sparkling differently from that night. There was something in your vibe that told him you weren't with him. Not completely. 

"I wish I could kiss you right now" he whispered out loud. 

And then, softly: "You wish... Is there something stopping you?"

His breath caught.

God, he wanted to. He wanted to lean in and kiss you exactly the way he had that night, slow and reckless, like he had nothing to lose. But this wasn't that night. This wasn't you. Not really. You didn't remember the tension, the stolen glances, the anticipation that had built up between you back then. 

You were looking at him with new eyes. 

And still...

You hadn't pulled away. 

He raised his hand slowly, brushing your hair behind your ear. His fingers grazed your jaw, tentative, reverent, like he was afraid he might scare you off. You leaned into his touch instinctively, and that one simple motion shattered something in him. 

So he whispered, "I'm going to kiss you now," and you nodded before he even finished the sentence. 

The kiss wasn't like the first time. 

It wasn't playful. It wasn't bold. 

It was quiet. 

Tender.

A question instead of a declaration.

San kissed you like he was saying please remember me, and you kissed him back like you were saying I don't, but I feel you anyway. 

Your hands found his jacket, gripping the fabric just slightly, like you needed something to hold onto. His thumb brushed against your cheek. You melted into him, the city and the night and the world dissolving around the pressure of his mouth on yours. 

And when he finally pulled back -breathless, eyes wide and glassy- you stayed close, your forehead pressing against his, like it was the only place in the world that made sense. 

"That didn't feel new," you whispered, your voice soft and trembling. "That felt like... like I've done it a thousand times before." 

San let out a broken laugh, one that sounded suspiciously like a choked sob.

"You have," he whispered back. "You have." 

And for the first time, he let go of the script. Stopped trying to make you remember by recreating the past. 

"I mean, maybe... you dreamed about it" he corrected himself quickly, as soon as he was aware of the confused look. 

San sat at the end of the table, eyes fixed on the untouched glass of beer in front of him. The bar was the same. The booth was the same. Even the playlist hadn't changed much, still throwing out old songs that reminded him of shared nights, loud laughter, your hand under the table laced in his. 

But this time... your seat was empty. 

"You did it?" Wooyoung asked quietly from across the table, voice careful not to trigger whatever thread was barely holding San together. "You brought her here again?" 

San didn't respond right away. He dragged a hand through his hair and exhaled slowly, the breath shaky and uneven. "It's where we used to hang out all the time. If there's a chance it triggers something..." 

Yunho leaned forward, concern etched into every line of his face. "You can't keep doing this to yourself, man." 

"I'm not doing this for me," San said too quickly, then caught himself. 

He was. Of course he was. 

He needed you to remember -not just for you, but because he didn't know who he was without you. And this version of you, this distant version who looked at him like he was just another charming stranger, it was slowly unraveling him.

"She used to sit right there," San muttered, tapping the empty cushion beside him with his knuckle. "She'd steal fries off my plate even though she ordered her own. Called it a 'tax for good company.'" 

The group chuckled softly, but no one really smiled.

"She used to kick me under the table when I made bad jokes," San went on, his voice cracking ever so slightly. "And whenever someone flirted with me, she'd hold my hand tighter. Not because she was jealous. Just to remind me she was there. And now..." 

He looked up suddenly, eyes rimmed with red.

"She is here," he whispered, "but she's not. She doesn't know she was my everything." 

No one spoke. Mingi reached out first, a quiet hand on San's shoulder. Seonghwa slid his beer across the table without a word, just as he had the night San told them you were in the hospital.

"I brought her here last night," San continued, staring ahead like he was talking to someone far away. "Sat in this exact spot. Tried to recreate the night we celebrated her getting that job at the museum. Even told the waiter it was her promotion night again. He just looked at me like I was insane, and I had to tell her it was an excuse to get a discount."

He laughed bitterly.

"She smiled at everyone but me." 

Another beat of silence passed. 

"Why don't you just tell her?" Yeosang asked quietly. "Tell her who you are. What you were to her." 

San shook his head violently, the muscles in his jaw twitching. "Because if she really doesn't remember... then it's not her choice to love me again. It's just pressure. A story she doesn't recognize. She deserves to choose me. Even if it means she doesn't choose me." 

His voice broke completely on the last word. No one had seen San cry in years, not like this. Not with his head down, fists clenched, eyes burning with grief that hadn't found closure.

Wooyoung reached across the table and grabbed his hand, squeezing once.

"We'll help you," he said quietly. "Whatever memory you want to bring back, whatever moment you need to recreate next... we've got you. Even if she doesn't remember yet, we do." 

San swallowed hard.

His voice was hoarse when he whispered, "The picnic. The one in spring. With the wildflowers."

Yunho blinked. "The one where you both got locked out of the car and had to hitchhike back?" 

San gave a weak laugh through the tears. "Yeah. That one."

The friends all exchanged looks.

"God, she teased you for weeks after that," Mingi smiled. 

San's eyes turned to the door. "I just need to see her laugh like that again." 

The air was soft with spring, the kind of day where sunlight filtered through a pale blue sky and the breeze carried the scent of blooming grass. A wide field stretched out before them, dotted with patches of wildflowers that danced like secrets on the wind. 

San laid the blanket down carefully, pressing the corners with rocks just like he remembered. Every detail had been replicated: the chipped thermos filled with cold brew, the half-burnt cinnamon muffins, the little Bluetooth speaker already playing the playlist he'd made for you back then. Even the weather was working in his favor like the universe just wanted things to work out. 

He glanced toward you as you stepped barefoot on the blanket, your shoes left somewhere in the grass. You looked peaceful -curious, but peaceful. 

"This is... beautiful," you murmured, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. "Feels like déjà vu." 

San smiled, carefully setting down the sandwiches. "You... I mean, a friend said that exact same thing I brought him here." he lied.  

You looked up. "Really?" 

"Hmm." he plopped down across from you, legs crossed and heart pounding. "Y.... He also told me I'd probably forget the sunscreen and get a sunburn on just my nose."

You paused. "...Did you?"

He pointed to his nose with a sheepish grin. "Roasted like a marshmallow." 

But it wasn't any friend, it was you who warned him, and it was you who started teasing him for looking all red for days. 

A laugh slipped from you before you could stop it, and his heart ached at the sound. That laugh. That warmth. It was like watching the sun through fog. But something else was happening too, little things.

You hummed along to a song playing through the speaker, one that wasn't particularly popular. San had added it to the playlist on a whim, years ago. You shouldn't have recognized it. 

For a moment, it felt like everything was working out. Like he was making a good job on just reliving everything that happened. 

But then... the keys. 

He was about to whine about the car being locked out, but you stopped him before he could, swinging the keys in your hand up in the air. 

As he stood to throw away a crumpled napkin shortly after you arrived, you casually reached into the open car door and plucked the keys from the ignition where he'd left them hanging. You didn't even look twice. Just dropped them into your bag like it was second nature. 

San froze, confused about the sound. Confused about the fact that you had picked them up. 

"Hey," he said slowly, cautiously, "why'd you grab the keys?"

You blinked, caught off guard. "What?"

"The keys," he repeated, nodding toward your bag. "You took them out of the car."

You hesitated, frowning faintly. "Oh. I don't know. Just... reflex, I guess."

San's chest tightened.

Because last time -back then- you hadn't grabbed them. He'd left them in the ignition, and you'd both realized hours later, after the car locked itself automatically. It was the beginning of a mini-disaster -your phone was dead, his had no signal, and the two of you ended up hitchhiking back with a couple of old farmers and a trunk full of potatoes.

It had been the most ridiculous, uncomfortable, hilarious afternoon of his life.

And now -this time- you had stopped it from happening. Without realizing. Without remembering. 

Something in you had changed the outcome. 

"Are you okay?" you asked suddenly, your eyes scanning his face. 

San quickly shook himself back to the moment, forcing a smile. "Yeah. Yeah, I just... I was kind of looking forward to getting locked out again." 

You tilted your head. "Again?"

He grinned, half-teasing, half-choked with emotion. That was the first time you held his hand for more than five seconds without making a joke about his rings. But now that chance was gone. 

"I mean... getting locked out. That's it. Not again"

You stared at him, lips parted, like you didn't know whether to laugh or ask questions. 

But you didn't ask. Not yet. 

Instead, you reached out and grabbed his hand, quietly, gently. No jokes. No teasing. Just fingers threading through his, like you'd done it a hundred times before.

San swallowed hard and looked away, blinking back the sting behind his eyes.

"I really like being around you," you said softly, thumb brushing over his knuckles. "It's strange... but comfortable. Like... like I've missed you, even though I don't know you."

And with that, the tension in his shoulders gave out.

He didn't say anything.

He just nodded, eyes closed, clutching your hand like it was the only tether he had left.

"You don't need to lock us out of the car for us to spend more time together" and there it was, the teasing. "You should just... ask".

The sun had dipped below the hills after they both had finally chosen to stay there, painting the sky in deep purples and sleepy oranges. What began as an afternoon picnic had slowly turned into an evening spent inside the car, warm and close, with music playing softly in the background and empty snack wrappers strewn across the dash. 

San sat in the passenger seat, one leg propped up, his shoulder brushing against yours every time he shifted. Outside, the air had cooled, the windows fogged slightly with your breath and the temperature drop, casting a soft haze over the world beyond. 

You were both laughing, genuine and unfiltered.

"I still can't believe you tried to impress your professor with a meme," you giggled, hugging your knees to your chest. 

San groaned, burying his face in his hands. "It was intellectual humor. I was ahead of my time!" 

You nudged him, and he looked over -smiling, disarmed. 

He knew all your stories by heart, he swore he could tell them by himself. But he just loved hearing them from you again. 

There was something different in the air now.

The kind of quiet that only comes after hours of sharing too much. The kind where words run out, and the silence doesn't feel awkward. It feels close. 

The car had grown dark. Only the faint glow of the overhead light lingered, and the soft ambient music, now long into the playlist's more intimate side, filled the small space with low, lazy beats. 

Your gaze lingered on his profile.

Something in the way he looked that night -quiet, open, raw- pulled at something deep in you. Maybe it was the soft rasp of his voice. Maybe it was the way he looked at you like he'd seen this moment before, and had been waiting for it to happen all over again. 

You didn't speak as your hand reached for his.

He took it like he always had -with ease, like it was second nature. Like your fingers belonged between his.

"I don't really understand what's happening between us," you whispered, voice barely audible over the music. "But I don't want it to stop." 

San's breath caught. 

He turned toward you slowly, his expression unreadable for a moment -like he was caught between joy and heartbreak. 

"You don't have to understand it," he said softly, "just... stay in it." 

You nodded. "Okay." 

And then you kissed him. Not like strangers. Not like it was new. But like your mouth remembered the shape of his. Like your body leaned into his not with curiosity, but with longing that had been stitched into your bones. 

San sighed against your lips, his hand cradling your face like he was scared you might disappear if he let go. The kiss deepened slowly -lazy, warm, like hours of conversation had been leading to this single moment of surrender. 

Without a word, he climbed into the backseat, pulling you gently with him. Limbs tangled, laughter hushed as you maneuvered into the cramped space. The cold pressed against the windows while your bodies grew warmer. 

Clothes slipped away in pieces, not rushed -felt. And you didn't feel shy, you didn't feel nervous when his eyes fell over your bare breasts, because the comfort mixed with a familiarity you weren't sure how to handle. 

Good lord, he loved the way you always arched for him. 

San cupped your breasts, his thumbs momentarily twirling around your nipples as he leaned down to kiss you again. Your tongues tangled together, and the taste was so intoxicating but pleasant that you could only find yourself holding onto him even tighter. 

"It's the first time I like the taste of cigarettes so bad" you admitted out of breath with a smirk. 

His hands mapped your skin like it was familiar ground, his mouth following with reverence. He didn't worship you like someone new -he remembered you, in every soft kiss down your neck, every pause where he just looked. 

His lips went back to yours, crashing against your mouth as he dragged you on his lap, arms wrapped around your waist. 

I love you. I love you. I love you. 

His mind kept screaming, but he kept his lips sealed, forcing the kiss to grow even rougher as a way to keep those words from slipping and scare you away. 

"Wait... Let me..." you broke the kiss, trying to readjust yourself on top of him. 

Neither of you could help but giggle the moment you looked into each other's eyes as you shifted on his lap. 

With a hand on your neck, he pulled you into a new kiss, making sure his arms around you kept your bodies glued to each other. He groaned into the kiss when he felt your hand slipping in between your bodies to redirect him to your wet channel, both of you moaning as you pushed him into you the moment you lowered your hips. 

You weren't in love with him. Not yet. But your body moved like it still was. 

Your hips met his with the perfect depth and synch, like the two of you were dancing to a dance you had practiced several times before. 

And you had. 

San couldn't move his eyes away from you. His arms remained wrapped around your waist, just enough to pull your torso close to him and have his lips closing around one of your nipples, one hand teasing the other, while his free hand squeezed a spot below your ribs that made you squirm and moan. 

It was like he had studied your body, like his only aim was to make you feel good. 

"San" you moaned with a cracked whine. 

He swore he was going insane. He flipped the two of you over the backseat, resting his body in between your legs to pound into you, to angle his hips and make you lose control of your own body. One of your hands was on the window, the other on his shoulder. Yet he needed more. 

With a rough movement, he moved your hand away from the window to place it over his face. "Touch me, Y/n. I need your hands on me" he almost begged. 

And for that one night, in the backseat under a thousand quiet stars, San let himself fall again. Silently. Without hope or demand. Just the sweetness of closeness, of skin on skin, of your breath in his ear whispering his name like it still meant something. 

When it was over, tangled together under the soft cotton of his jacket, you fell asleep on his chest, heart steady against his. San didn't sleep. He just held you, eyes fixed on the ceiling of the car, wondering how long he could keep pretending that fate would give you back to him. 

For the first time, San didn't feel like recreating everything that happened between you two. It wasn't necessary. He was so caught up in taking the old you back, that he forgot about the possibility of him falling for you all over again under a whole different circumstance. 

Your relationship was bound to happen again. 

The next morning, the sun rose quietly. It didn't burst into the sky -it crept. Gentle and gold, seeping through the fogged windows of the car in soft beams that filtered across tangled limbs and rumpled jackets. 

You stirred first.

Your cheek was pressed against the bare skin of San's chest, rising and falling with every slow breath he took. His arms were still around you, protective and steady, and his heartbeat -low and calm- drummed beneath your ear.

You didn't move.

There was something safe about this. About waking up here, wrapped in a warmth that didn't feel foreign. Even though it should have. 

Your fingers shifted slightly, brushing against his ribs, and he tightened his hold just a little, as if even in sleep, he was scared you'd slip away. 

San was awake. 

He had been for a while. 

He hadn't moved, hadn't spoken. Just breathed you in and let the silence hold him. Let the weight of your body against his lull the ache in his chest to something soft, something tolerable. But even in this dreamlike calm, he knew it wasn't real. 

You didn't know him. 

Not really. 

Not the way you used to. 

Still, when you tilted your face up and blinked sleepily at him, your mouth barely parted, skin still kissed by the warmth of last night, San let himself pretend. Just for a second. 

"Hi," you whispered. 

His heart squeezed. "Hey." 

A quiet smile tugged at your lips. "Did we actually...?" 

He gave a soft laugh. "Hmm. We did." 

You leaned back slightly, your eyes scanning his features. The messy hair. The tired eyes. The little indent on his lower lip where he always bit when nervous. "I don't usually do that." 

"I know," he said gently, gaze never leaving yours. 

There was something in the way he said it -too sure, too knowing-, but before you could question it, he reached out, brushing a strand of hair from your face. His fingertips lingered on your cheek. 

"You're cold," he murmured. 

"I'm not," you replied, but you didn't stop him when he pulled his hoodie over your head and helped you into it, even though it was far too big and still smelled like him. 

You let yourself curl into his side again as if you'd done it before. Like you knew how. 

Outside, the world was waking up: birds calling through the trees, the breeze rustling through tall grass. But inside the car, time was still. The windows glowed softly with morning light. Neither of you spoke for a long while. 

Eventually, you tilted your head toward him again. "I feel like I'm always a step behind around you." 

San swallowed. "What do you mean?" 

You shrugged, fingers absently tracing the tattoo on his arm. "Like you know something I don't. Like... I'm supposed to understand all this, and I just... don't." 

He didn't answer right away. Instead, he turned his face toward the window, eyes catching the sunlight like it might burn away the truth if he held it too long. 

"I guess," he said slowly, "some things just need time." 

You nodded, even if you didn't really understand. "Is it crazy that I trust you?" 

"No," San replied, his voice so soft it could have shattered. "Not crazy at all." 

And in that moment, you reached out and laced your fingers through his again.

No questions. No demands. 

Just skin on skin. A touch that said, I don't remember, but this feels right. 

San closed his eyes and let himself stay in the dream for one moment longer. 

The theater was quiet.

Not empty, just quiet. One of those midweek showings where only a handful of people were scattered across the seats, too far to hear or care what anyone else was doing. 

You sat next to San with a bucket of popcorn balanced between you and the sleeve of your drink pressed against your thigh. The previews flickered across the screen, too loud, too flashy, but neither of you really cared what movie was playing. 

He'd picked the film. Something fun. Light. Familiar. But you kept sneaking glances at him instead of watching. 

He looked different in the darkness. More relaxed. A little slouched. His beanie pulled low and a soft flannel shirt hanging open over his tee. It was almost domestic, comforting, the way he sat beside you like he'd done it a hundred times. 

Maybe he had. 

You just didn't know it. 

While the next trailer blared on screen, San leaned forward, checking his phone. Probably a text from a friend -you hadn't met any of them yet, but he talked about them often. Warmly. 

He always spoke like there were pieces of you in his stories, but never named them. 

You glanced over casually... and paused. 

His phone was dim, but not enough to miss it. There you were, on his screen. His lockscreen. It was a photo of you in the sun, squinting at the camera, wearing sunglasses perched lazily on your nose and a soft smile playing on your lips. You looked free. Happy. Head tilted back slightly like you'd just been laughing at something he said. 

But you had no memory of it.

You didn't remember the shirt you were wearing. Or where you were. Or him being there. 

Your chest tightened, breath caught somewhere high in your throat. 

It was just a photo. But it was proof of something bigger, something you couldn't quite reach.

"You okay?" he asked suddenly, turning to look at you. 

You blinked, startled. He must have seen your face. Or maybe the way you were staring at his phone a second too long. 

You nodded quickly, brushing it off. "Yeah. Just... tired." 

He didn't press, but you could feel it. That slight shift in his posture. That tension in the air like he knew you'd seen too much. Or maybe... not enough. 

He slipped his phone into his pocket and reached out, his hand brushing yours between the armrests. When you didn't pull away, he linked your fingers gently, grounding you with the warmth of his palm. 

You leaned your head on his shoulder. He smelled like something soft and earthy. Familiar. Like you'd worn his hoodie once, weeks ago, and the scent had never left your skin. 

"I like being with you," you murmured, almost a whisper.

San's grip tightened ever so slightly.

"I like being with you too," he said, voice hushed, almost cracking.

Neither of you watched the movie. You just sat in the dark, wrapped in something fragile and unnamed, with your face on his lockscreen and a hundred memories you couldn't see, but were somehow starting to feel. 

After the movie ended, you both chose to take your love somewhere else. 

You were back at your apartment now, San leaning against the kitchen counter, sipping on that awful canned iced coffee he swore by, while you sat cross-legged on the couch, scrolling through your phone. 

He was telling you a story, something about a prank his friend -Yeosang- had pulled at a wedding. It was strange, telling you a story you were once part of, as if you had never been there. But he had grown used to it. 

But your mind wasn't really on it, because the image had stuck with you.

The lockscreen. 

That photo of you on his phone. 

You chewed your lip and finally cleared your throat. "Can... can I ask you something?" 

San stilled, the can pausing mid-air. "Sure." 

You stood, walked to him slowly, and held out your hand. "Your phone." 

His brows lifted. "Why?" 

"Just wanna see something." 

He hesitated, just for a second, before unlocking it and handing it over. You navigated to the lockscreen, pulling it up again. Your heart gave a strange little flutter.

"This picture..." you started softly, holding it out between you. "Where did you find this?" 

San looked down at the screen like it was something fragile. His thumb twitched against the seam of his jeans. 

"That was... I scrolled through your social media, and I found it" his voice was careful while he came up with a lie. "I thought you looked great, so I just... took it. I can change it if it makes you uncomfortable."

"No, it's just... I was surprised after seeing myself on your phone" you admitted. "I didn't expect it".  

He nodded. "You don't mind it?"

You frowned slightly. "No. I actually look good" you teased with a chuckle. "I look happy there".

San swallowed hard, his gaze lowering as he murmured. "You were."

You studied his face for a long moment. Then your lips curved upward, just a little. "Your taste in screensavers is nice, I guess." 

He let out a soft chuckle, but the sound didn't quite reach his eyes. 

"Funny, though," you added, unlocking your own phone. "Mine's kind of similar." 

You turned your screen toward him. It was a photo of a man's back -broad shoulders, hair messy in the wind, walking just ahead of you. The setting sun behind him made it hard to see clearly, but the place... it was the same river. The same wildflowers. The same time of year. 

San stared at it. Everything in him stilled.

"That's... a coincidence," he said, voice almost too calm.

You nodded slowly. "Guess so."

But neither of you said anything for a while.

You left the photo up a little longer, as if trying to feel something stir in your chest. Some sense of connection. But all you felt was the silence between you -quiet, waiting, fragile.

Then San smiled softly, stepping forward and brushing your hair behind your ear.

"Maybe we just like the same places," he said gently. 

You tilted your head, searching his face. "Maybe." 

But as you leaned into his touch, your hand brushing lightly against his chest, you couldn't shake the strange flutter in your ribs, like a memory had tried to surface, only to slip beneath the water again.

"It was the lockscreen I had when I woke up" you frowned. 

San froze when he heard that confession, but he remained silent, waiting for you to speak, waiting for the next thing you'd say. 

"I haven't told you before... Well, it isn't something I go around telling" you nervously chuckled. "Some months ago... I had an accident. A pretty bad accident. I was in a coma for a few weeks, and when I woke up my mind was completely blank from the past five years and on. I didn't recognize my friends, or my workplace... I didn't even expect to be living here. But, somehow, that lockscreen was the only thing that made sense and gave me calm when everything was upside down. And it’s ridiculous, because I can’t see his face, or know who he is, but it just makes me… feel relaxed. Like nothing will be wrong". 

San felt his lip trembling. For the first time in weeks, he felt guilty. Because he left you alone when you needed support, because he abandoned you when you needed guidance, only because he was scared of his own feelings when you looked at him differently. And now, he was scared of how you’d react when you remembered things. 

"Why are you crying?" you scoffed, feeling your own eyes filling up with tears. 

"Oh?" he asked, brushing the reverse of his fingers against his cheeks, finding them wet. 

"You aren't feeling sorry for me, aren't you?" you asked, wrapping your arms around his waist. 

"Never, bunny". 

The nickname slipped from his lips before he could hold it back. And he noticed, the flash of surprise, the sparkle in you eyes under the tears. 

That nickname stirred something in you. 

"Bunny?" 

He remembered the way you’d always jump around when excited, the way you’d make small jumps instead of just walking or running, and that nickname made complete sense for him back in the day. 

"It's a nickname. It just... slipped out" 

"I like it" you confessed with a giggle. 

The sun was dipping low behind the skyline as San waited outside your office building.

He leaned casually against his Jeep, black hoodie pulled over his head, one boot crossed over the other as he scrolled through his phone. To anyone passing by, he looked like someone killing time -apathetic, detached.

But his thumb hadn't moved in two minutes, because his entire body was tense. Stomach in knots. Eyes flicking toward the doors every few seconds.

You were running late.

Again.

Which gave his mind far too much time to spiral.

He hadn't expected this part to hurt so much. Watching you build new routines that didn't have him in them. Smiling at strangers, coming out of buildings he'd waited for you a hundred times before -when he was your boyfriend, your ride home, your safe place. Now he was just... someone you were getting to know. And that should've been enough, except today, it almost wasn't. 

"San?" a familiar voice called.

He stiffened. His eyes snapped toward the sound, heart dropping like a stone.

It was one of your coworkers. Julie, maybe? He vaguely remembered her from a few parties, or maybe your birthday dinner. The two of you had once danced together after too much wine. She had no filter and a memory like a vault. 

She approached, smiling wide. "Oh my God, it is you! Wow. It's been a while. Y/n didn't say you were picking her up today... Are you two back together?" 

San felt his blood turn cold.

His mouth opened, then closed again. "I... uh..."

"She looked so lost after the accident," Julie kept going, oblivious. "But I always had a feeling you'd come back. You two were like..." 

"Hey, sorry," San cut in suddenly, eyes locked on the entrance.

You were walking out. Right. Now.

Shit.

"Can we not... talk about this right now?" he muttered, voice urgent but polite, already stepping away. 

Julie blinked, confused. "What? Wait, aren't you...?"

"I'll text you," he said quickly, already turning his back.

And then he was moving, crossing the pavement fast, intercepting you before your eyes could sweep over to Julie's side of the street.

"There you are," he said with a practiced smile, pulling open the passenger door. "Rough day?"

You blinked at the sudden warmth, distracted by the way he touched your lower back, guiding you gently into the car like he'd done it a thousand times.

"Exhausting," you muttered as you slid in.

He rounded the Jeep fast, hands tight on the steering wheel by the time he started the engine. You didn't notice the way he was breathing just a little too fast. Or how he double-checked his mirrors like he wasn't just looking for traffic, but watching to see if someone was still standing nearby.

"How was your day?" you asked casually.

San gave a small, breathless laugh.

"Almost perfect."

The drive was silent for a few minutes, until you broke the silence again, curiously looking at him while turning your body to him. 

"Do you know Julie?"

"What?" he nervously eyed you, his glance on you lasted less than two seconds. 

"Julie, you were talking to her before I got out"

San sighed, trying to come up with an explanation. "Oh, yeah. She's a friend of a friend. It's been a long time since I saw her last". 

Before you could ask more about it, he rushed to come up with a new topic that would distract you from the fact that he knew your coworker. And he breathed out, relieved, when you didn't fight back as you played along with his conversation. 

Three weeks slipped by like honey in warm tea -slow, golden, and somehow too sweet to be real. You and San weren't official, but something between you had rooted itself deep. You texted constantly, called often. He picked you up from work most days. You spent weekends together now: grocery shopping like old lovers, laughing too loudly in parks, falling asleep on his shoulder without even realizing it. 

And still... you never asked. Never pried about the way he knew exactly how you liked your coffee, or how his hand found yours in the dark before you could even reach. Just like you didn't ask why he was so against you meeting his friends, or how he didn't want to meet yours. At some point, you just assumed he didn't have any, and he just was too embarrassed to admit it.  Just like you accepted he was more of a homebody than someone who went out and about, since most of your dates were either in places with barely anyone around or in either of your houses. 

You didn't know why you didn't ask, maybe you were afraid of the answer.

That night, and after too much arguing, you finally managed to convince San on going out. The pub looked just like you remembered it: old brick walls, low golden lights, the constant hum of music and conversation thick in the air. 

"Déjà vu," you said, stepping in beside him. "This place feels... familiar. And I don't mean it because of the day you brought me here a few weeks ago."

San smiled, a little sad, a little hopeful. "It should." 

You glanced up at him, eyes narrowed. "Why?" 

He shrugged like it didn't matter. "It's just the kind of place that feels like a memory." 

You were led to the same table. Same corner. Same view of the bar. San even ordered the same drinks for you both, though you didn't notice that part. You were too busy scanning the room, trying to place this strange pull in your chest. 

"Have you been here a lot?" you asked. 

He took a sip of his beer, staring at the spot where, once upon a time, he'd stepped in to save you from a stranger's wandering hands. "A few times before" he said "and it kind of stuck with me."  

You smiled. "Because of the atmosphere?" 

He met your eyes. "Because of the person I came with." 

Your gaze faltered at the heat behind his words. You swallowed hard, suddenly shy. "She must've been special." 

"She still is."

You laughed awkwardly, not sure how to reply to that -if you were misreading the moment or if he meant exactly what your gut whispered he did. 

"Hey," you said, trying to shift the tone. "You keep saying all these mysterious, romantic things and then changing the subject. Should I be worried you're secretly married or something?" 

San grinned, but it was the kind that didn't quite reach his eyes. "I'm not married." 

"But?" 

"But some things are hard to explain." 

You nodded slowly, reaching for your drink. "Well... I guess I don't need everything explained. Not if it keeps feeling like this." 

He looked up sharply at that. 

"Like what?" he asked. 

You hesitated.

"Like I've done all this before," you said quietly. "With you."

And San -heart breaking and healing all at once- only whispered back:

"You have." 

But you didn't hear it. Or maybe you just didn't let yourself.

So you smiled again, tilting your glass toward his with a playful smirk. "To familiar strangers."

San clinked his glass against yours. And for a moment, everything in him screamed to tell you the truth. But instead, he just said: 

"To second chances." 

As the night went on, you had shifted in the booth beside San, your hand brushing his every now and then, and neither of you moved it away. The world felt slower tonight, like it was holding its breath around you. 

The conversation had dipped into quiet comfort when a voice sliced through it, casual and familiar: 

"San?"

He turned quickly. A tall man with honey-blond hair and a denim jacket was approaching with a grin, Mitchell. You didn't recognize him, but the smile on his face said he recognized you.

And worse, he knew you.

"Dude! I didn't know you two were back together!" Mitchell laughed as he reached them, clapping San on the shoulder before turning toward you. "Y/n, you look good! How's your head, by the way? That whole accident thing was a shock for everyone..."

"Hey," San said sharply.

His voice was low. Controlled. But his hand gripped Mitchell's arm with a pressure that meant stop talking now. He blinked, confused.

You glanced between them, eyes narrowing slightly.

"Sorry, do I... know you?" you asked, trying to place the man's face.

Mitchell looked stunned for a beat. Then opened his mouth again to speak, but he was interrupted before he could make a sound. 

"She's not who you think," San cut in, voice firmer now. "You're probably confusing her with someone else." 

Mitchell's eyebrows shot up.

"What? San..."

San stepped closer to him, almost blocking you from view. "Drop it," he muttered through clenched teeth. "Please."

Mitchell froze.

And in that moment, something passed between them -something heavy, like grief and fear woven together. Then, after a pause too long to be casual, Mitchell gave a tight smile.

"Oh," he said finally, turning toward you. "My bad. You just... reminded me of someone. Sorry about that."

You laughed softly, but something about the exchange had stiffened your spine. "No worries. I get that a lot, apparently."

San's hand slid to the small of your back. Warm. Protective. A silent plea not to ask more.

You didn't.

Not really.

But as Mitchell waved goodbye and disappeared into the crowd, you glanced up at San with a quiet curiosity in your eyes.

"Is he an old friend?"

San smiled gently, like nothing had just happened. "Yeah. Known him for a long time."

You nodded slowly. "He seemed... surprised to see us together."

There was a pause. Just for a breath.

"Guess I surprise people sometimes."

"How did he know... about the accident though?" you furrowed your eyebrows, looking at him cautiously. 

"It's... that other person had a light accident, too. It's just a coincidence". 

A coincidence, again. 

You watched him a second longer before looking away. The conversation moved on, but the moment stayed with you. Like a thread you weren't quite ready to pull.

Actually, neither of you brought up that conversation for the rest of the night, not even when you were back in his place, like you always did with all the small details. You usually shrugged them off, swiped them off the carpet and forgot about them. But there were too many coincidences not to notice the huge bulge under the carpet in the middle of the living room. 

The room was quiet, too quiet. 

San's arm lay across your waist, his breath feathering warm against your shoulder, the rhythm steady, soothing. But your mind was anything but. 

Even in the dark, the memories -or lack of them- pulsed behind your eyes. You could feel the shadows of things just out of reach, a phantom touch on your hand before you moved. The way he smiled when he thought you weren't looking, the moments where you caught him watching you like you were something lost and he didn't know how to let go.

Your fingers grazed over the sheet as you slowly shifted his arm off your waist. He mumbled something incoherent, but didn't wake.

Barefoot and quiet, you slipped out of the bed and stood in the middle of the room, arms crossing over your chest, heart pounding like a second heartbeat.

Mitchell's voice rang in your ears."That whole accident thing was a shock for everyone..."

Another accident, where the main person also got hit on the head. 

"Back together".

And San's eyes, how fast they had darkened. How quickly he had shut it all down.

The question you'd buried for weeks finally pushed its way to the surface: Was he hiding something? Or someone?

Your stomach churned. What if he had a girlfriend he wasn't telling you about? What if this whole time, this strange intimacy you'd fallen into with him wasn't yours to fall into?

You were pacing in the dark before you realized it, your steps soundless on the cool floor. Back and forth. Breath uneven. Thoughts louder than your heart could handle. And then... thud.

You stumbled as your foot collided with something under the edge of the shelf in his living room. Bending down, your fingers found the edge of a small wooden box: worn, heavy with the kind of weight that wasn't just physical. There was something sacred about it. You shouldn't have opened it, but you did.

Inside were pieces of a life that didn't belong to you. And yet, they did.

A photo lay at the top. You, smiling in a way you'd never seen in the mirror. Your cheeks flushed, your hands cupping San's face like he was the only thing that existed. His eyes were shut in the photo, a smile tugging at his lips. Pure joy.

Your breath hitched.

Beneath it were dozens more. A photo booth strip of four blurry, laughing frames, a candid of you asleep against his shoulder, a selfie with his nose pressed to your neck, his eyes closed, and a faint lipstick mark on his cheek, you found one where your friends where also in the picture -and, by the way Yeosang was hugging San, you could tell they were close. And then, at the bottom, you found a familiar photo that made your stomach turn. You were wearing the exact same outfit of the picture he had as his lockscreen, and he was wearing the same clothes as the man in yours, same background... The only difference was that, this time, you two were together, kissing. 

You didn't remember any of them. But your heart... did. Then, tucked beneath the photos, letters.

You picked up the top one. Unfolded it with trembling fingers. It wasn't long.

You forgot me.

I smiled through it. You said "nice to meet you" like it was nothing.

It almost killed me.

But I'll wait.

I'll wait forever if it means you'll smile at me like you used to.

Your vision blurred. You blinked quickly. 

There were more. Pages of thoughts, of love, of ache. Some had dates, weeks ago. Some looked like they'd been written the day of your accident. One had a smear in the ink. A tear, maybe.

Day 9.

They said you might be able to hear me. So I'm here. Again.

I haven't left, not really. I go home to shower, sometimes. Eat if I remember. But I'm always back before sunset, just in case you wake up and wonder where I am.

I should've driven slower. I should've seen the turn. I should've...

You wouldn't be here if it weren't for me.

I replay it in my head every time I close my eyes. Your voice. The sound. The silence after.

I hold your hand and pretend you're just sleeping.

I talk to you like you'll answer.

Sometimes I pretend you do.

Everyone says to give it time. That you're strong.

But I know you're tired.

If you hear this, if anything inside you still remembers me, please, just come back.

I'll start everything over. I'll do it right this time.

I love you.

I love you.

I love you.

Come home.

Your breath came in shallow bursts. Your knees buckled. It was like everything was turning around you the more you read. 

Day 37.

You opened your eyes today.

I should be there. God, I want to be there. But I can't. Not yet.

They told me you didn't ask for me.

That you didn't recognize anyone.

And I know it's not your fault.

I know it's the injury, the trauma, the healing.

But it felt like the last piece of me cracked open when I heard it.

How do I look at you and pretend we're strangers?

How do I sit beside you and not touch you the way I used to?

How do I call you Y/n when every part of me still aches to say baby?

I've spent weeks memorizing our history in case I had to remind you of it.

But now... I don't know if you even want to remember.

I'm scared. Not of losing you.

I'm scared you've already let me go.

Maybe I'll see you tomorrow. Maybe I'll walk past your door and keep going.

But I'll always be waiting, just in case something in you still knows me.

The box fell from your hands as you lost the last bit of strength to keep reading, the pictures scattered at your feet like a life spilled out. 

You were the girlfriend.

You had been his.

He hadn't just found you by coincidence. He had been waiting. Recreating. Hoping.

A quiet sound behind you broke the silence. Then his voice -rough with sleep, confusion curling in its edges.

"Y/n...?"

You didn't turn around, you couldn't. Not yet. 

San stopped, reaching for the switch to turn on the lights, wishing he had never done it in the first place. All the pictures he tried to hide were around your feet, all the contents of the box were exposed. "Baby?"

Your fingers curled around the corner of a photo -your face in it, laughing so hard your eyes had shut. San had his arm around your neck, tugging you against him like he never wanted to let go. The kind of moment that couldn't be staged.

Slowly, you turned. He was halfway inside the living room, shirtless, hair tousled, his eyes going from sleepy to wide open the second he saw what you were holding.

His mouth parted. But no words came out.

And then you whispered: "...It was me."

He didn't move. Didn't speak. Just looked at you like everything he had worked so hard to bury had been laid bare, and now, there was nowhere left to hide.

You looked down at the photo again, your fingers brushed the smile you didn't remember, but somehow still felt. 

"I was the one you were waiting for."

His throat bobbed. You were crying now, but it didn't feel heavy. It felt like truth cracking open, like light breaking in. 

"Why didn't you just tell me?" you whispered. 

San swallowed hard. And finally, he stepped forward -eyes burning, voice trembling, as he stopped right in front of you. 

"Because if I told you the truth..." he reached for your hand -hesitated- then wrapped his fingers around it, pressing it to his chest. "...I was terrified you wouldn't want to come back."

You didn't look at him. You couldn't. Your chest felt tight, each breath shallow and sharp.

"Why?" you asked, your voice low and sharp like a blade.

He sat up, the sheets slipping from his torso, pooling at his waist. "Y/n..."

"Why did you lie to me?"

Silence.

You finally turned, eyes wide and brimming with betrayal. "You were my boyfriend. Before the accident. Before I lost everything. You were my life, and you let me believe you were just some guy at a bar?"

San's throat bobbed as he swallowed. The guilt had already settled deep in his face.

"I didn't know how to tell you," he admitted. "I didn't want to scare you off."

"Scare me?" you repeated, voice cracking. "You didn't want to scare me, so you thought pretending none of it happened was better?"

He opened his mouth, then closed it again. You could see the words scrambling in his brain, but none of them made it out.

"You thought it would be better to lie to me? To manipulate me into remembering you? Not even to remember you, but to force your way back into my life" your hands were shaking now. "You robbed me of my own story, San. You made me feel crazy every time I caught something familiar in you." 

"I was terrified," he said finally. His voice broke around the edges. "You looked at me like I was no one. You smiled like we'd just met. And I... I was scared you wouldn't want to come back."

Your breath caught in your throat.

"That wasn't your decision to make," you said, each word clipped, each syllable deliberate. "You should've told me the truth. You, my friends... someone should've told me." 

"They wanted to," he said quietly. "I asked them not to."

You laughed bitterly. "Of course you did". You stopped for a second "Why don't I have anything about you in my h...?"

But you didn't need to finish the question to know that he and your friends had something to do with all of that. 

"My social media?" San just looked down at your question, knowing one of your friends also managed to delete the two years of relationship off the Internet. "Of course..."

"I didn't do it to hurt you," he rushed to explain, eyes pleading. "I just wanted to be near you. I thought if we could do it all again, if I could just feel you again, maybe you'd remember. Maybe your heart would recognize mine, even if your head didn't."

You stared at him, so many feelings surging at once it made you dizzy.

"I've been falling for you," you whispered, your voice tight. "Thinking this was new, something just beginning. I let myself believe I was starting something real with you. But it was just... a copy. Shit, San. Can't you see how fucked up all of this is?!"

He stepped forward slowly, as if afraid to shatter what little remained between you. "Y/n..."

"You let me doubt myself, San. Let me question why everything felt like déjà vu. You watched me struggle and said nothing"

He looked like he might fall apart right in front of you.

"I didn't need to be protected," you said, softer now. "I needed the truth. I needed support, help."

San's expression twisted with grief. "I didn't know how to live in a world where you didn't remember me. I didn't know how to be near you and not be yours."

"You know, there's something I remember..." your voice wavered.

He looked at you hopefully.

"And it's that you always will choose the easy path. Working with me to remember you meant patience, dealing with frustration and obstacles, while just living this lie was quick and fast. You just needed to do absolutely everything you did the first time, and it was done. You didn't give a fuck about my recovery, but about having me in your life in the way you wanted"

It crushed him. You saw it happen. You watched his shoulders fall, his chest cave.

You shook your head, eyes brimming with unshed tears. "Now all I feel is that every moment between us lately was a lie. And I don't know how to trust anything you say anymore."

He reached for you, but you stepped back. 

"Don't," you whispered.

The distance between you stretched, heavy with the things he never told you. You went back to the bedroom, and when you walked outside, you were already dressed with your bag hanging on your shoulder. 

"I need time," you said, already walking toward the door.

"Y/n..." he called after you.

But you didn't stop, and you didn't look back.

The café was quieter than usual, the kind of silence that didn't come from a lack of noise, but from something heavier. The clinking of cups, low chatter, even the hum of the espresso machine, it all faded beneath the weight of everything San hadn't said out loud in days.

He sat across from Wooyoung, shoulders hunched over a cooling cup of black coffee, staring blankly at the chipped ceramic like it held the answers he couldn't find in himself.

Wooyoung didn't speak right away. He never rushed San in moments like this. Just sat there, sipping from his own cup, watching him with that steady, quiet patience that only came from knowing someone too well.

"She's stopped talking to all of us," Wooyoung finally said, his tone low but careful. "You know that, right?"

San gave a tired nod. "Yeah."

"She won't answer my messages. She ignores Mingi. I think she even blocked Yeosang."

Another nod.

Wooyoung leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table. "You think she hates us?"

"No." San's voice was rough. "But she doesn't trust us. And I don't blame her."

Wooyoung stared at him. "She trusted you, though."

A muscle in San's jaw jumped. "Until she found out."

"She found out because she tripped over a box full of the truth," Wooyoung said, more gently this time. "Not because you told her."

San rubbed at his face, hands dragging over tired eyes. "You think I don't know that?"

"I think you do," Wooyoung said. "I just don't know if you've let yourself know it."

There was a long pause.

"She asked me once," San said quietly. "If I had a girlfriend."

Wooyoung didn't respond.

"I told her no." his voice broke a little on the word. "I was lying straight to her face, and she looked at me like I was the safest place she'd been since the accident. And I just..." he swallowed, hard, "kept pretending I didn't know what that meant."

Wooyoung looked away, lips pressed into a thin line. "You were scared."

"I was a coward," San corrected. "I thought if I could just make her fall in love with me again, I wouldn't have to tell her how much it wrecked me to lose her. But she's not stupid. She noticed everything. The bar, the photo, the letters... and then I watched it all snap together in her eyes."

Wooyoung was quiet for a moment before he asked, "What did she say?"

San's laugh was low and sharp, completely humorless. "She asked me why everyone lied. And I said... I told her I was terrified she wouldn't want to come back."

He paused. Swallowed again.

"And the worst part?" he looked up, eyes wet, voice shaking. "She didn't deny it."

Wooyoung exhaled, leaned back in his chair. "She's hurt. Give her time."

"What if time's the thing that takes her even further away from me?" San whispered. "What if every day she spends without me is a step closer to forgetting everything we were?"

Wooyoung reached across the table, gripped his wrist. "Then you wait. You wait for as long as it takes. You loved her enough to lie, fine. But now, love her enough to let her be angry, let her feel what she needs to feel. That's the only way this ends in something real."

San didn't answer. He just nodded once, slow and hollow, like his body had finally caught up to the weight his heart had been carrying all along.

Meanwhile, you weren't able to go on. 

Just after you had asked, you had all of the memories from your relationship back in your house. Although they were inside a box you didn't dare to open yet. His words were enough to haunt the silence: "I was terrified you wouldn't want to come back."

The worst part was... he wasn't wrong. 

You didn't dare to open the box and dig in those memories because you were scared the feelings from the past wouldn't align with the feelings you had. What if you didn't love him back then? What if your relationship wasn't good shortly before the accident? What if...? 

You stood in the kitchen barefoot, wrapped in one of his hoodies that had been on the back of a chair, too tired to care if it still smelled like him. You hated that it did. That your body leaned into it, even as your heart tried to push away.

Your phone buzzed once. His name.

You stared at the screen until it faded back to black. A few more minutes passed before you turned it off completely.

You had trusted him.

From the first moment he sat across from you at that bar, with his cocky smile and flirty banter, you had leaned into the connection like you were meant to. And it felt like fate, hadn't it? The easy rhythm, the way he knew how to make you laugh, how he always knew just when to reach out or fall quiet. But it hadn't been fate. It had been a plan. His plan. A play-by-play reenactment of a life you'd already lived, without even knowing it. You'd fallen for him thinking it was new. Thinking you were choosing him, but he'd already had you. And he didn't tell you. He couldn't risk the chance that this version of you wouldn't pick him again.

That was the ache now, the hollow pit in your chest. Not just the lie, but the feeling that he'd stolen your choice.

You pressed your forehead against the cold glass of the window, blinking past the tight sting in your eyes. The street below was quiet, golden with morning light, like the world didn't care that everything inside you had shifted. Like nothing had changed at all.

You should have felt anger. And you did. But beneath it was something deeper and more painful: grief.

Because now every memory you'd made with him -every laugh, every kiss, every moment where your heart had fluttered- was tangled with the question: Was it ever really real?

And still, your body remembered the shape of his arms, the warmth of him in the middle of the night, the softness in his voice when he whispered your name like a prayer. You'd fallen in love with him again. That part was real. And maybe that was the cruelest truth of all.

Unable to keep that pain on your own, you finally called her. Jazmin picked up on the second ring. "Y/n?"

You didn't say anything at first, just breathed, your voice caught in the place where pain sat too deep to speak.

"Are you okay?" she asked, softer now, like she already knew the answer.

"I need to talk... Can you come?"

"I'm coming."

You didn't argue. Didn't try to sound fine. You just hung up and curled into the corner of the couch, knees to your chest, staring at the ghost of yourself in the dark TV screen. The reflection of a girl who didn't know who she was anymore. Not really.

When Jazmin arrived, she didn't knock, just stepped in like she used to, like her body still remembered where the spare key was and how your apartment smelled in the morning. She looked at you, standing there in San's hoodie, eyes rimmed in red, and said nothing at all, just wrapped her arms around you. And for a second, you let it break. The dam. The wall. The composure. 

You sobbed into her shoulder, and she didn't ask questions. Not yet.

"I thought I was going crazy," you finally said when the tears had dulled to hiccups. "I kept thinking, maybe I was the other woman. Maybe he had a girlfriend he hadn't told me about."

Jazmin pulled away just enough to look at you, brushing your hair from your face. "You were the girlfriend. You are the girlfriend."

"Why didn't anyone tell me?"

She hesitated. "He asked us not to. Said he wanted you to come back to him on your own. That if it wasn't real, if you didn't choose him, it would crush him."

"But what about me?" Your voice broke again. "What about what it's done to me?"

She flinched, and you hated that you made her look like that. Like this pain had spilled over into someone else's bones too. But you couldn't take it back. Couldn't shrink it.

"I needed to know the truth," you whispered. "I needed someone to tell me. Instead, I was just... living in this version of a life that had already happened. Like a puppet on strings I didn't even know were there."

"I know," she said, pulling you in again. "God, I know, Y/n. I wanted to tell you so many times. But he looked so lost. So afraid. We all thought he'd break if you didn't come back to him."

"Maybe I needed to break too," you murmured, pressing your forehead to her shoulder. "So I can figure out who I really am without everyone else deciding it for me."

Jazmin nodded. Her fingers carded gently through your hair. You stayed there, the two of you curled into a silence that felt like a bandage over an open wound. 

It had started to rain before you even realized where your feet had taken you. 

You hadn't planned on going anywhere after work, just a walk to clear your head. No destination, no headphones, just the kind of silence that city noise couldn't reach. And yet, somehow, you were standing in front of a café you didn't recognize... or at least, didn't think you did. Still, something about it felt familiar. Not in the "I've-been-here-once" kind of way, but in the way a smell can unravel a dream, or a song can feel like a memory even when you've never heard it before.

The little sign above the entrance read Moka, the white paint faded into soft gray along the edges, weathered but charming. Your fingers curled around the brass door handle before you could talk yourself out of it.

The bell chimed above your head as you stepped in.

Soft jazz drifted from speakers hidden somewhere behind the plants and bookshelves that crowded the walls. The scent of roasted beans, vanilla, and something faintly citrusy wrapped around you like a warm coat. It felt like stepping into someone's living room, like a place where stories had been left behind, carefully folded into the creases of napkins and coffee sleeves.

You let your eyes scan the space and saw it: the corner booth near the window with the chipped table and the crooked lamp above it.

It called to you.

You didn't know why you sat down. You just... did.

You took a breath, your fingertips tracing over the wood. A divot near the corner snagged your nail, like muscle memory. You pulled your hand back.

A minute later, the bell above the door chimed again. You glanced up casually, and froze.

San.

He stepped inside, brushing rain off his shoulders, his hair damp and sticking slightly to his forehead. He looked like he hadn't expected the weather to turn on him so suddenly. He looked like he hadn't expected you, either.

For a heartbeat, neither of you moved. Then his eyes widened, and yours did the same.

"I didn't know you came here," you said, unsure why that was the first thing that came out.

He blinked, stepping in further. "I didn't think you even knew this place."

"I didn't," you replied. "I was just walking and... I don't know. My legs brought me here."

He gave a small, breathless laugh. Not mocking, just stunned. "Yeah. That... that sounds about right."

You both hesitated, hovering in two different worlds that used to be the same one. Then, without asking, he crossed the room and sat across from you. You didn't stop him.

You ordered two coffees, as if your hands remembered what your head didn't. Yours with oat milk and cinnamon. His, black with one sugar. You didn't realize what you'd done until the waitress left and San looked at you like he'd been struck.

"What?" you asked.

He shook his head. "Nothing. Just... you remembered."

You frowned. "I didn't. I guessed."

He didn't argue. Just gave a tired, tender smile and murmured, "Good guess."

The silence stretched between you. Not tense, exactly. Just... full. Like everything you hadn't said was sitting in the space between your cups, waiting for the right moment to rise.

You looked at him carefully. His eyes were heavier than you remembered. The curve of his mouth pulled more at the corners now, like he smiled less often. There were shadows beneath the tattoos on his arm, and tension in the way he gripped the edge of the table.

You stirred your coffee even though it didn't need stirring. "Why didn't you tell me?"

He stared at the chipped edge of the table. "Because I was scared."

"Of what?"

"Of ruining everything," he said. "Of trying to hold on to something that wasn't mine anymore. I kept thinking: what if you remembered and didn't want it? What if you didn't remember and I pushed too hard and it felt like I was trying to trap you in something you couldn't feel?"

Your heart twisted. "That doesn't make what you did okay."

"I know," he said instantly. "I know that. I lied to you. I took away your choice. I tried to rewrite something instead of... letting you read it again. On your own."

You watched him closely. There was no act. No polished version of himself. Just the raw, tired ache of someone who had held his breath for too long.

"And the accident?"

His eyes flicked to yours, and something flickered through them, shame, mostly. Pain.

"We were fighting. Some months ago, you started thinking of publishing the comics you had been working on, but I wasn't... supportive enough. I said they were a cute side thing, and it all blew after that" he said. "I... we started arguing, we weren't listening to each other, and the fight seemed to keep getting worse. It was raining. I slipped off the curb and..." he exhaled sharply, voice breaking. "The car didn't stop in time, I crashed against a tree, and you were the one who received the worse end"

You swallowed. "And after that?"

"I came to see you," he whispered. "Every day. For weeks. I sat beside you, read to you, talked to you even though you couldn't hear me. I brought you the cactus from your studio. I..."

You looked away, eyes stinging. "But when I woke up..."

"I stopped coming," he said, his voice barely audible now. "Because I thought... it would hurt less to disappear than to watch you forget me."

The words settled between you like ash.

"I didn't forget you," you whispered. "Not really. You were everywhere. In things I didn't understand. The way I reacted to you. The way I looked for you even when I was mad at you."

He watched you like you were saving him and tearing him apart at the same time. You exhaled, slow and unsteady. "You weren't a stranger, San. Not really. I didn't know why, but I kept choosing you anyway."

His lips parted, but no sound came out. Just a breath. Just gratitude.

The rain outside began to lighten, softening into a misty hush. Inside the café, the world had folded in around you: warm, quiet, intimate. Like the past and present were finally speaking to each other in the same room.

"Let me take you home," he said gently.

You didn't respond right away. You just nodded, slowly, carefully, like your body was making a decision your mind still hadn't caught up to.

He opened the door for you, and the wind brushed past you both. For a moment, you stood under the awning, watching the city blur behind rain. And then you turned to him and said, "You'll answer everything, right? If I ask?"

He looked you dead in the eye. "Anything. Everything."

And for the first time in a long time, when you both stepped into the rain and toward his car, it didn't feel like running. It felt like returning.

"What were we like... before the accident?"

He didn't answer right away.

You watched the side of his face, the soft twitch of his jaw, the way his eyes stayed locked on the road a second too long, like he was organizing memories in a drawer he hadn't opened in a while.

Then, slowly, he reached toward the glove compartment and pulled out a small leather-bound notebook, its corners frayed from use. He held it out to you without a word.

You looked down at it, frowning as you took it in your hands. The leather was warm, familiar. There was a tiny sketch of a cat doodled in the corner of the cover. Your sketch. You flipped through the pages.

Your handwriting.

Your drawings.

Short, messy notes written in blue pen. Dialogue bubbles. Storyboards. Scenes about a couple waking up late, arguing over grocery lists, dancing in the kitchen in their socks. Pages where the girl looked suspiciously like you, and the boy... well.

"Is this mine?" you asked.

He nodded. "You were working on it all the time. You said you wanted to make a comic about a normal couple. No drama, no perfect endings, just real life. Ours."

You flipped through the pages, stunned. You had no memory of drawing these, but the style was undeniably yours. Every detail made your chest ache with something you didn't know how to name.

"I don't remember any of this."

"I know," he said softly. "But you loved this project. You were going to publish it. You even had a name for it."

You looked at the front page. In your own messy cursive: "Monday Mornings."

A breath caught in your throat. You didn't even know why, but that title felt like something you'd once whispered in someone's ear, laughing under the covers.

"I didn't support you enough," San said suddenly, voice low and raw. "You wanted to take it public. You had this pitch ready, you were so excited. And I... I said we should wait. That, maybe, it wasn't the right time. I thought I was protecting you. I didn't realize I was just making you feel small."

You didn't answer, you just kept turning the pages.

A drawing caught your eye: the girl kissing the boy's shoulder while he made coffee. A heart drawn above them. Underneath, you'd scrawled:

"You always said mornings were cruel. So I made us soft."

Your fingers trembled.

"You said something before the accident," San continued quietly. "You said, 'Why does it feel like you're always patting my head instead of holding my hand?'"

You looked out the window. The trees blurred past in green shadows. Your heart thudded somewhere in your stomach.

"I never forgot that," he said. "I never stopped hearing it."

You closed the notebook and held it close to your chest.

He glanced at you, uncertain. "Are you okay?"

You nodded. But you didn't feel okay. You felt like you were standing at the edge of a memory that had just started to turn around and look at you.

The days blurred.

Not in the romantic way people talked about when they were in love, not in the way that made time feel like honey or sunsets. No, those days blurred like ink in water, like memory diluted until it left only a pale ghost of what used to be.

You tried. 

God, you tried. 

You woke up each day with hope clawing its way up your throat, searching the mirror for a spark, a flicker, something familiar in your own reflection. And sometimes, there were moments. A smell, a certain playlist, the way San's fingers traced lazy circles against your wrist when he thought you weren't paying attention. Sometimes it hit you like déjà vu, but soft, like the memory itself was holding its breath.

Other times, though, it felt like you were pretending to live someone else's life. Walking through a home filled with photos you couldn't remember taking, laughing at inside jokes you didn't really get, wanting to reach for San, only to stop midway, unsure if the heat in your chest was real... or borrowed from a version of you who no longer existed.

San didn't push. Not in words, anyway.

But sometimes you felt the weight of his gaze. Quiet desperation woven between the lines of his patience. And that's when it got hard. When it hurt the most, when you felt like you were failing both him and yourself.

That morning, you'd had another flash.

You had opened a kitchen drawer, reaching for a spoon, and your hand landed on a small, yellow plastic ring. The kind you get from a vending machine. For some reason, your breath caught. You had no idea why, but your fingers trembled.

You sat on the floor and cried.

San had found you there, and he didn't ask questions. He just sat beside you and held you close until your breathing slowed.

But he didn't say anything, either. And that was almost worse.

You both had grown used to that type of scene, where you just broke down and he held you until he made sure you were breathing properly again. 

Now, in the car, your fingers fidgeted in your lap. "I hate this."

He blinked. "Hate what?"

"This... in-between. Not remembering. Remembering too much. Never enough. It's like I'm stuck between two mirrors, and I keep seeing myself, but never fully."

He nodded slowly, keeping his eyes on the road.

"I'm trying," you added, barely a whisper.

"I know you are," he said. 

Silence again. Just the tires splashing over wet asphalt.

"But it's hard," you admitted, voice cracking. "It's hard needing space from someone who makes you feel safe. It's hard needing time from someone who clearly never stopped loving you."

He didn't answer right away. Just exhaled, slow and careful. "Do you know how many times I've almost told you everything again? How many times have I looked at you and wanted to say 'Just come back'? But I couldn't. Because if I pushed too hard, I'd lose you all over again."

"Sometimes it feels like you expect me to be her again. That girl I was."

"I don't," he said quickly, sharply. "I just miss her. That's different."

"Is it?" you asked. "Because it doesn't feel different when I look into your eyes and all I see is disappointment every time I get something wrong."

"I'm not disappointed in you..."

"Yes, you are!" you snapped. "Every time I forget something, you look away. Every time I hesitate, you sigh like it's breaking your heart."

He gripped the steering wheel tighter. "Because it is. But that's not your fault" his jaw flexed. "I know it's hard, but I never said you had to be her, that version of you. I love you. Now. Not just the version of you I lost."

You laughed bitterly. "But it's not that simple. You can say that all you want, San, but I see it. I see you looking for her in me. In every little gesture. Every place we go. You're always chasing the past. And I'm scared I can't give it back to you."

The air in the car turned cold.

He stared at the road, eyes dark. "You think this is easy for me? Watching you look at me like I'm a stranger, when I know what your laugh sounds like when you do something you like? When I still hear your voice every night in my head, begging me not to let you go?"

That silenced you.

His voice cracked. "I would give anything to forget how you used to love me, because maybe then, this wouldn't feel like being stabbed in the same place over and over."

You turned to him slowly. His knuckles were white on the steering wheel. His shoulders were tight with things he wasn't saying.

You stared at him. "I don't know who I am anymore. What if there's nothing to go back to?"

The words cut deep. You hadn't meant for them to come out like that. But now they hung in the air, heavy and irreversible.

His jaw tensed. "So what, Y/n? You want me to let go? To pretend none of it ever happened?"

You pressed your lips together, looking away again, knowing there was something cooking in his brain before he happened again. 

"I'm not some villain in your story. And I'm sorry if it seems like I'm pushing you, but..." he stopped for a few seconds, getting some air back in his lungs "I'm trying to love someone who doesn't remember loving me. Do you know how hard that is? To have all these memories, all this history, and none of it matters unless you feel it too?" he took another deep breath, gulping down the knot in his throat. "But I'm not letting you go, I won't give up and I won't let you give up, because I'll be on every fucking step of the way. And if you don't remember me, then fuck it. We'll make new memories together that will be just as meaningful. But I'm not giving up on you, Y/n. I refuse to".

You hesitated, but you were thinking of the best answer to that. And just as you were ready to turn to him to speak again. It happened. 

CRASH.

The sudden screech was the only noise in your ears for a few seconds, the blur of headlights the only thing you could see. 

Your body snapped forward, seatbelt biting into your chest. San's arm instinctively flung in front of you, shielding, even as the car spun once and thudded to a stop against the guardrail.

Silence.

Rain tapped against the cracked windshield. 

You gasped, chest heaving, eyes wide as your hands scrambled to reach him.

"San..."

"I'm okay," he croaked, already undoing his seatbelt. "Are you hurt? Look at me, are you okay?"

Your lips trembled, but you nodded. 

He exhaled in shaky relief. His forehead had a small gash, bleeding into his eyebrow, but he was alert. Breathing.

"I'm fine," you whispered, touching his face. "You... you're bleeding."

He gave a strained laugh. "You should see the other guy."

You let out a sob that was half a laugh, half terror. Outside, the driver of the other car was already stepping out, waving, checking his own vehicle. No one was badly hurt. It was a scrape, a scare, not a tragedy.

But to you, it felt like an echo. Like lightning returning to the same scar in the ground. Your fingers trembled as you unbuckled your seatbelt. San looked at you, and for a second, neither of you moved.

 "God, I thought..."

Your fingers trembled against his jacket, clutching him like you might lose him again. And maybe it was nothing. Just a fender-bender, but something inside you had shifted. A pressure in your chest, the sound of his voice, the flash of memory, your fingers curled around his wrist, and for a split second, you remembered.

A birthday.

Candles.

His laugh in the dark.

His hand brushing your cheek.

A yellow plastic ring.

It was small, barely a second, but it hit you so hard you flinched.

San caught the look in your eyes.

"What is it?" he asked, still breathless.

You shook your head slowly. "I... I think I remembered something."

He paused.

You closed your eyes.

"I think... you asked me to marry you once."

San's heart stopped. And then he smiled. A fragile, aching smile, like something inside him had cracked open.

"You said no," he whispered. "And then you made me ask again with a yellow plastic ring."

Your hand trembled over your heart. The ring in the drawer, the one that made you cry without knowing why.

You looked at him again, really looked, and for the first time, he didn't feel like a stranger.

After a few months, spring returned to the city in full bloom -and so, in your own way, did you.

After the second accident, everything shifted.

You didn't lose any more memories that night. If anything, something inside you cracked open, like a door that had always been there, waiting to be found. After that, you worked harder than ever. Not just because you wanted your memory back, but because he never stopped fighting for you, even when you didn't feel like the same person he loved.

You dove into it: the photographs, the journals, the smell of his cologne on your pillow, the comic sketches you once hid inside an old shoe box. The coffee shop, the places you used to go, the food he said you hated, but you found yourself ordering just to see.

Little by little, pieces returned.

Not all of them. You still forgot some dates. You still couldn't remember why Hongjoong always called you "Captain," or what made Yeosang cry-laugh the first time you met. But the important things? You held onto those with everything you had.

You remembered how San's hand fit at the small of your back, the way he used to hum when he thought you were asleep, the soft way he'd whisper your name when he was half-asleep and needed to make sure you were still there.

And now, months later, you were there.

The bar buzzed with warmth and celebration, full of your friends, full of light. Outside, fairy lights glittered across the rooftop. Someone had already smashed the cake. There was a karaoke battle happening in the corner. Seonghwa had taken over the music, and Wooyoung was trying to get everyone to pose under a banner that said you were celebrating the publication of your comics.

Your first printed volume. A comic book. A real one.

And even though you smiled at everyone and thanked them with full sincerity, there was only one person you were truly looking for in the crowd.

You spotted him on the couch near the edge of the room, nursing a drink. White shirt, rolled sleeves, his chain catching the light. He looked impossibly soft in the chaos, like a quiet moment wrapped in a person.

He was watching you, eyes half-lidded, that little smirk on his lips he didn't even realize he had when he looked at you.

You didn't overthink it. You just walked across the room, climbed right into his lap like you'd done a hundred times before, and leaned in close, so close your breath hit his ear. "Don't think I forgot the first night you let me draw you naked."

He choked.

You could feel the sharp inhale beneath your palms as his hands gripped your waist, stunned. "What... what did you just say?"

You pulled back slowly, watching his face twist with disbelief.

"Bedroom floor," you said. "You were freezing but you wouldn't move until I got the curve of your shoulder right. You were so dramatic."

His eyes filled with something raw.

"No one else knew that," he said hoarsely. 

You shrugged softly, nose brushing his. "I told you I'd come back to you. I'm not all the way there yet, but I'm close. I feel it."

He stared at you like you were the answer to every prayer he'd never spoken out loud. Like you were a miracle wearing your own skin.

And then he kissed you.

There, in the middle of the rooftop, with music in the background and your friends around you and the stars blinking quietly above, he kissed you like the world had finally come back into focus.

"You remembered the sketch," he whispered against your mouth.

You smiled. "I remembered you."

And as his arms wrapped around your waist, holding you as if afraid to blink, you knew one thing for sure:

You weren't just returning to your old self, you were becoming more, you were rewriting everything with love in your hands.

The apartment was quiet, washed in golden lamplight and the soft shuffle of sheets.

You sat cross-legged on the bed, sketchbook in your lap, pencil smudged between your fingers. San lay beside you, one arm bent under his head, the other lazily tracing patterns along your thigh, like he couldn't stand to stop touching you, even for a second.

"Is that me again?" he asked, voice low and a little sleepy.

You smiled, not looking up. "No. It's us."

He shifted, propping himself up on one elbow to peek. The page showed a messy panel -your typical style- drawn in soft graphite. Two figures sitting in bed, one sketching, one watching. Simple. Intimate. 

"I look good," he said, grinning.

You rolled your eyes. "You always say that."

"Because it's always true." he leaned in, brushing his lips over your shoulder. "But also... because you draw me the way you see me. And that version of me? That's my favorite."

You paused, pencil hovering mid-air.

Then, quietly: "I think I'm happy again."

His smile faded into something softer. "Yeah?"

You nodded. "Not just because I remember things now. But because I feel like myself again. Like... we're back. But not just back... better."

San turned onto his side, pulling you into his arms until your cheek rested against his chest. His heartbeat was steady beneath your ear.

"You know," he whispered, "you could forget everything all over again, and I'd still find my way back to you."

You pulled back slightly to meet his eyes. "You don't have to."

"I know." he kissed your forehead. "But I would."

The sketchbook slipped from your lap, forgotten. The city murmured outside the windows, but inside -here, in this room, in his arms- you had everything you needed.

You curled into him, your breathing syncing with his. And as the night folded around you like a favorite page in a well-loved book, you knew you'd never forget this feeling again.

Home.

Him.

You.

[pookie-stay-wookie]

strong for too long (san x platonic!reader)

a/n: hii, this is my first fic, (id written it some time back but it somehow got deleted so i wrote it again)

warnings: death of a family member (just two lines), mentions of being tired, being in a depressive episode (in the past)

genre: hurt/comfort, angst (a little)

word count: 1.4k

being the oldest of her three siblings, and all of the cousins yn had naturally always felt a sense of responsibility growing up, no one had asked her to do it, it was just ingrained in her bones. one might see this as a good thing, and it was, she was always there for people always had a shoulder for anyone to lean on, but this faltered when it came to herself.

she never meant it to be like this, but in the midst of her helping her siblings she had forgotten to take care of herself and now here she was, not willing to lean on anyone and figuring out things on her own.

she and san had been friends since before he debuted and had always been close with the rest of the boys as well. 

usually yn was able to hold herself up through the darkest periods of her life, like when her grandmother died, she had played a huge role in all of her siblings' lives, she helped her siblings through the grief and pain of losing her. 

somehow she didn't seem to realize that her family was taking advantage of her kindness, her support. once she moved out, hardly any of them kept in contact with her, only coming to her if they needed help. she didn't know how or why it happened but they just grew apart

she knew that her family wanted nothing to do with her, her mother calling just to tell her how ungrateful she was to move away from them though she never said it to any of her other siblings when they did the same, she knew that her mother just didn't like her she knew all this, she just didn't want to accept it

It hurt to accept it, to know that the people who you were there for ignoring you completely, maybe she expected it from her mother, but not her siblings but she had brainwashed as well, she had convinced them to think that they had nothing to do with yn.

since it had been a long time since she had talked to any of her family, most days she had forgotten about the dispute going on with them. 

she held herself up when she was losing herself, trying to go day by day, fighting the demons inher head, she pulled herself up from the darkness. not because she wanted to, but because she knew that no one else would do it for her so she somehow willed herself to do so and she did it, she proved to herself that she didn’t need anyone and closed herself off completely, 

most days she was able to handle whatever was thrown at her, 

today was not most days

today just kept on kicking her down, not one thing was going good for her 

she woke up late, bumped her head on the bedside table as she woke up, when she got to work, the boss yelled at her for what seemed like hours because of her being late and in the hurry forgetting her laptop which had a presentation she needed to show today to some clients which in turn getting yelled at even more, her so called ‘friends’ from work seemed extra rude, her phone died in the middle of the day, and she just wanted to go home and have a quiet night to herself to recover from today's events 

but no, the universe decided to throw another curveball at her just as she was a few minutes away from her drive home, she got a call from her youngest sister

she picked it up, expecting her sister to want something from her, what she didn't expect her to be doing was sobbing her eyes out while trying to tell her something that she could understand nothing. 

yn pulled up on the side of the road, calming her sister down, panicking a little herself for wanting to know what was going on

that's when she heard it, oh how she wished she didn't, how she wished it was something else that she could her but the two words that came out of her sister's mouth were all that haunt d her all the way home 

'mom died' was all she heard and then just the wailing of her little sister, she didn't even realize when but she hung up the phone and started driving again 

even if her mom was terrible to her after she had moved out, she still loved her to death, she didn’t want to believe it. 

she couldn't believe it, didn't want to believe it, the entire ride back to her house was a mixture of shock and numbness.

------

san was in yns living room, sitting on the couch, waiting for her to come home.

he had made some ramen for himself an hour ago and was sitting with his hand on his stomach, satisfied with the meal.

This is how it was like some days, san just showing up to her house, letting himself in with the spare keys he had, that's what happens when you've been friends for so long. he would always inform yn that he was coming over before he left from his own house, shooting her a text

it was around 9 when he heard the rustling of keys from the other side of the door signaling that yn was home. around the time he had expected her to come, what he didn't expect was her walking in like a zombie and go straight to her room, not even acknowledging the man in her living room, a distant look in her eyes.

knowing yn for so many years, he has never seen her like this, she's always been the rock between them, always there whenever san needed a pick me up, he had not once seen her this down, so he knew that there must be something going on. 

he slowly went towards her room and heard sniffles coming from across the closed door and his heart broke. he knew yn was strong, but she was closed off and she didn't like to show her emotions but it broke him to think that she was battling demons on her own. 

he knocked softly on the door in front of him "yn? honey can I come in?' he asked and heard the sniffles stop for a few seconds, but nothing more. he sighed thinking of what to do next 

so he quickly ran to the kitchen, making some ramen plus some add-ins, similar to what he had had earlier to give to yn since he was sure she hadn't had anything since she had come straight from work.

----

after I came home, i just went straight to my room, the words my sister told me haunting my brain. 

i heard a soft knock on my bedroom door, and realized it was san. in the midst of all this, i didn't even realize that he was here. he asked if I was fine but I didn't have the energy to say anything, so I didn't. some time later he knocked again and entered with some ramen, multiple side dishes and a glass of water. 

"i don't need to know what happened but I do need to make sure that you eat, so here you go." he said, placing the tray on my nightstand.

"but just so you know, if you need to talk, I'm here for you." he said with a smile as he sat on the bed.

before he could say anything else, i hugged him, my head finding the crook of his neck, he wrapped his arms around me, engulfing me under his huge frame.

Every fiber of my body yelled at me to not show my vulnerability but i didn’t have it in me anymore, to hide from people who wanted to help, especially san.

when I felt the warmth radiating off him, i couldn't help but burst into tears, the stress of it all coming all out at once, being neglected, work stress, being strong for all those years and finally, finding out about mom

"you've been strong for too long, it's okay to break, cause I'll be there to pick up the pieces." he said into my hair as we stayed there however long i needed to.

----

[juicycherry99]

MY LIL MESSY GIRL

SanxReader

Title: my lil messy girl

Genre: Smut

San x fem.reader

Warnings: piss kink, oral (male receiv.), shower sex, degradation, sir kink, dom San, masturbation, begging, unprotected sex (established relationship)

You were sitting on the couch next to your boyfriend. You both we’re watching TV while cuddling. It was the third glass of water San was giving you. You asked him why all of a sudden he wanted you to drink so much water. All he kept telling you was he didn’t want you to be dehydrated, since you weren’t the type to drink a lot of water. You started feeling full and the need to go to the bathroom coming.

“Baby, I need to go to the bathroom real quick! I’ll be back in a minute.” You told him as you stood up.

But he quickly grabbed your arm and sat you back down next to him.

“Baby?” You asked him, confused.

“Hold it in” He ordered, not looking away from the TV.

“What do you mean? I need to go!” You asked, looking over to him, squeezing your legs tightly together.

“I told you to hold it in Y/N!” He said back with a rougher tone.

You stayed seated, not daring to respond to him. Getting more and more needy to go to the bathroom. 30 minutes passed by and now you really needed to go. You’ll need to run though. Maybe you won’t even last till you run to the bathroom. You stood up from the couch and started running to the bathroom. But you quickly felt something hot running down your thigh.

“Fuck..” you thought to yourself.

“Ah look at you, making a mess like that. Such a needy lil slut, uh?” San said, walking up to you.

You stood there looking down at the floor, ashamed of yourself. You didn’t even noticed San was behind you, looking at you biting his lower lip.

“Look at you, such a dirty lil slut. You’ll need a shower, uh?” He said whispering into your ear, giving you chills.

Your boyfriend took you in his arms and went into the bathroom with you. He let you go and asked you to get undressed. You started undressing, taking off your shorts and as you took off your panties, you saw the hard on forming a tent in your boyfriend’s joggings. You then took off your top, leaving you naked in front of your boyfriend. He approached you slowly, looking into your eyes and then looking to your lips, biting his own. You had never seen your boyfriend like this. But it turned you on seing him like this. He kissed your lips roughly but slowly while palming himself through his joggings. At first you we’re a bit destabilized, but then you kissed him back, moaning into the kiss.

“Such a needy lil whore.. so sexy for me” He said with his voice low, smirking.

You bit your lip, trying to restrain yourself from moaning. He started undressing as well, leading you both into the shower, turning the water on. He pined you against the cold tiles of the wall, making you shiver. He kissed you again, his hand wandering around your body till he found your ass, squeezing it a little before turning you around, pushing you against the now warmer tiles of the wall.

“You’re such a hot mess, baby. Fuuck..” he swore into your ear, pushing his hard cock against your ass, grinding a bit on it.

“Mmmh.. S-san..” you moaned slightly, moving your ass against his cock more.

“You’re that needy, uh? Such a dirty little slut just for me.” He said, slapping your ass cheeks hardly, making you cry out in pleasure. “On your knees, babygirl” he ordered.”

You got on your knees in front of your boyfriend, looking straight into his eyes. He pumped his cock a bit, looking at you with a smirk.

“Open up” he commands.

You opened your mouth, sticking out your tongue.

“Suck on it” he ordered.

You took him into your mouth and started sucking on it, twirling your tongue around the tips.

“ahh fuck babygirl.. so fucking good.” He moaned out, taking a hold of your hair into a ponytail.

He started thrusting his hips, pushing himself deeper into your mouth each time, hitting the back of your throat and making you gag a bit. Tears started forming into the corners of your eyes from gagging. You felt your cunt getting wetter each time he thrusted into your mouth. He felt his climax coming and stepped back, pulling out of your mouth.

“Since you like being a dirty lil slut, I might take a piss right here, what do you think, uh?” He asked while jerking off.

What San didn’t know was that you had a huge piss kink. His words made you even wetter. You nodded, looking at him while biting your lower lip. San smirked at you, positioned himself and started peeing on your cunt. You moaned out from excitement and moved your hand to your pussy, fingering your clit at the sight of him and the warm feeling of his hot fluids.

“Fuuuckk“ you moaned out, fastening the pace on your clit.

“I see you like it, uh?” He asked as he finished pissing on you.

You nodded still fingering yourself.

“Words Y/N” he spat out.

“Yes Sir!” You moaned out. You knew how much he liked being called Sir when you two did important business.

He chuckle slightly at your words, being even more turned on. “Good girl” he said, brushing your cheeks with his fingers.

“Please fuck me” you asked softly.

“Then beg for it” San spoke back.

“Please fuck me Sir! Please fuck my tight lil pussy! I need you so much, Sir!” You begged almost squirming from the excitement.

“Well, since you asked so well.. get up” he said, helping you stand up.

Once you stood up, he crushed his lips onto yours, grabbing your ass with both hands and giving it a gentle squeeze, making you moan into the kiss. He took that chance to slip his tongue into your mouth, playing with yours. He lifted you up and you locked your legs around his waist. He aligned his cock at your entrance and pushed himself inside your tight hole. He started thrusting deeply into you, not letting you adjust to his size. The wetness of your cunt helped with it.

“Aahh so good!” You cried out from the pleasure.

“You’re so fucking tight, ah! So good for me!” He groaned out, fastening his thrusts into you.

“Mmh.. f-fuck! Harder please!”

He did as told and thrusted harder and rougher, sounds of skin slapping and groaning echoed into the room. He reached your sweet spot over and over again, making you scream his name so loud, you sure thought the neighborhood heard all of it.

“F-fuck Sannie! Aahh! Gonna c-cum!” You screamed out loud, nails gripping onto the skin of his shoulders.

“Beg for it, babygirl.” He groaned out while thrusting into you faster and harder.

“Plea-ease Sir! Let me c-cum! Plea-se! I wanna cum so b-bad!” You screamed out, tears falling down your cheeks.

“Cum with me baby! Fuck! Cream on my big cock babygirl!” He moaned out, feeling his climax coming, thrusts becoming sloppier and uneven.

You both came at the same time, San still thrusting into you, riding out your orgasm. He then leaned his forehead onto yours, looking into your eyes, smiling softly. His gaze was now soft, like you we’re used too.

“I love you baby” he said softly against your lips.

“I love you to Sannie” you responded, smiling.

He kissed you softly on the lips and pulled out of you. He helped you standing on your feet and helped you clean yourself. You sat down on the shower floor while he finished cleaning himself. He turned of the water and helped you step out of the shower. He grabbed the towel and helped you dry up your skin. He put his towel around his waist, lifted you up bridal style leading up to the bedroom where he laid you down on the bed.

“Now you rest while I go clean the floor.” He said pecking your lips softly.

“Oh yeah, I forgot about that” you chuckled slightly, hiding your face with the pillow.

San moved the pillow from your face and pat down your head softly.

“I love you my lil messy baby” he said chuckling.

❌No copyright accepted

[bellonim]

𝐀𝐓𝐄𝐄𝐙 - their favourite thing about you

synopsis: my head take on what they like the most about you

𝐒𝐄𝐎𝐍𝐆𝐇𝐖𝐀: I think Seonghwa likes your eyes the most. He could get lost in them forever, and even when looking into them for the hundredth time, he never gets tired of them. Sometimes he claims he can see the whole universe through your eyes, and though you know he is only joking, to him it's heartfelt. You are, after all, his universe.

𝐇𝐎𝐍𝐆𝐉𝐎𝐎𝐍𝐆: Hongjoong likes your personality the most. It's not a secret that his job as an artist is very demanding, having to stay up late to either practice or compose or anything which takes up too much energy. Oftentimes, he finds himself astray due to the fact that he has hardly time for himself. But then you come around the corner, and always manage to lift up his spirits with your beautiful personality. He sees you as the light at the end of the tunnel when things get hard.

𝐘𝐔𝐍𝐇𝐎: Yunho definitely likes your height the most. That goes for people who are shorter or taller than him. He obviously cherishes his height a lot, considering he is the tallest member in ATEEZ. He is proud of it and becomes even more so when you stand next to him. When being shorter, his pride exceeds. You look small and fragile next to him and he loves that feeling. And when you're taller than him, he feels so proud that he can look up to the love of his life, literally.

𝐘𝐄𝐎𝐒𝐀𝐍𝐆: Yeosang loves your hair. He loves combing his fingers through it or styling it in different ways. Whether it's braiding your hair or sectioning strands of hair and putting them in cute ponytails, it doesn't matter. It makes him calm and collected and lets him forget everything that's around him. He loves smelling your hair, especially when you have just washed your hair. It smells like home.

𝐒𝐀𝐍: your confidence. I feel like, because San himself is very confident, he looks for confidence in a partner. And the way you handle yourself, even on bad days, just makes him fall in love again every time. Even when you feel like you're not confident in yourself, he'll point out all the good things he sees in you. Because if you can see all his perfections, why shouldn't you be able to see it in yourself?

𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐈: your cheeks. Something about them always makes him smile. The way your cheeks go into mochi-mode when you smile has him smitten all over you. There never goes a day by when he doesn't try to make you smile or blush, just to see your cheeks all red and cute. He definitely does the grandma cheek-grabbing because he cannot help it. If it's cute then he must squeeze them. Must.

𝐖𝐎𝐎𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐆: Listen, this boy. He is the most hyper member in ATEEZ, that's established. He smiles a lot, and then I mean, a lot. And he loves smiling. But you know what he loves even more? Seeing you smile, especially when it's because of him. He loves the way you laugh whenever he does something silly. Even in serious situations, he cannot contain himself. Seeing you smile is equal to people in Ancient Greece seeing Zeus himself coming down from Olympus. He is addicted to your smile.

𝐉𝐎𝐍𝐆𝐇𝐎: It's a known fact that Mariah Carey bows down to Jongho. I mean, come on. When you enter Heaven, the first thing you'll hear is Jongho's voice. And he cherishes his voice very much. It's a given, he is an angel in disguise who has a choir as vocal cords. And though he loves his voice very much, he loves you talking even more. Especially when you sing too, even if it's a little song while you're cleaning or just doing your thing. Even if you cannot really sing well, it doesn't matter. Your voice reigns supreme. You are his Mariah Carey.

A/N: My first ever headcanon, and of course about my favourite boys. I hope you enjoyed these headcanons! See you hopefully next time <3

ALSO, if you want to request something (which can be headcanons, one-shots, etc.) please do!!

[couchpotatoaniki]

One Year Series

San had first met you five years ago, unable to forget you—being the last innocent thing he saw before it all came crashing down. Now, he finally has the opportunity to whisk you away from your life to a ‘much better’ one with him. But maybe he should not have judged a book by its cover because he certainly wasn’t ready for who you really were.

Pairing: Mafia!San x Fem!Reader Genre: Mafia AU, fluff, angst, smut, lotta crack and stupid shit ngl Warnings: violence, blood, loads of gore, mature content, swearing, stalking, kidnapping, sexual threat, drug use/mention,  Based off: 365 Days, but a lot of things have been changed because Author Aniki hates that movie :D

A/N: GANGS ARE DANGEROUS, I’LL THROW A SHOE AT YOU IF YOU ACTUALLY GET INVOLVED WITH THEM so stay safe kiddos :’))

Chapters:

Prologue / One / Two / Three / Four / Five / Six / Seven / Eight / Nine / Ten / Eleven / Twelve / Thirteen / Fourteen / Fifteen / Sixteen / Seventeen / Eighteen / Nineteen / Twenty / ???????

[princessniquane]

FICS POSTED!!!

Precious- Seongjoong

Birthday Boy- SanxReaderxHongjoong

Don't Stop- SanxReader

HIM- stalker!Seonghwa-first 2 parts

Puppy- JungkookxReader

Fics coming up:

Ateez

Golden Hour (series)- a pirate au Seongjoong fic

Precious- Seongjoong one shot

Birthday Boy- Hongjoong/reader/San fic (Hongjoong bday present)

Wonderland- Incubus!Seonghwa/human!Hongjoong one shot

Don’t Stop- San one shot

Him (mini series)- stalker!SeonghwaXreader fic

Princess- Yungi one shot

BTS

Home Video (mini series)

Jungkook/reader/jimin camping one shot

Patience- Jhope/San/reader one shot

Jungkook oneshot

WWE

Choices (series)

[droopycoquette]

Ateez Masterlist

>Kpop Masterlist<

* = Mature

Headcanons/Reactions:

Ateez Reactions || PDA

Ateez Reactions || S/O is taller than them

//

OT8:

Bad Bitch, Puerto Rican || Ateez x reader

Summary: Your boys had been worked to the bone it's time for you to hype them up a bit.

Warnings: tired!ateez, ot8, fluff, caring!reader

Word count: 1873 words

//

Seonghwa

Say It Again || Seonghwa x Reader

Summary: Seonghwa comes home and then it's all giggles and squeals.

Warning: Fluff, college au

Word count: 524 words

//

Hongjoong

Let Me || Hongjoong x reader

Summary: You’re insecurities are seeping in and you don’t want Hongjoong to know. However, he finds out anyway.

Warnings: fluff, insecure!reader, caring!Hongjoong,

Word count: 1075 words

//

Yunho

N/a

//

Yeosang

Ab Therapy || Yeosang x reader

Summary: You come up with an effective way to de-stress.

Warnings: Language, fluff, college au, suggestive content

Word count: 894 words

//

San

Horny Jail || San x Reader

Summary: San wants to fuck but you need to be productive.

Warnings: Sexual themes, fluff, funny

Word count: 698 words

//

Mingi

Taking Care of Song || Mingi x Reader

Summary: After Mingi injures his ankle you help take care of him.

Warnings: Fluff, injured!Mingi, caring!reader

Word count: 473 words

//

Wooyoung

Perfect || Wooyoung x reader

Summary: Wooyoung does something. Now you’re mad at him.

Warnings: fluff, Wooyoung being a little shit, feelings of hangriness

Word count: 1343 words

//

Jongho

N/a

[like-a-holy]

Ignoring my girlfriend prank - Choi San

Pairing : Choi San x Reader

Summary : You came home and your boyfriend is ignoring you. How can you make him talk to you again ? 

Type : Fluff, Suggestive (at the end)

I was walking down the street going home after my day of work. I bought some chicken to eat with my boyfriend San. He should be at home now because today was his day off. 

I text him to tell him it wasn't necessary to make dinner but I didn't receive any answer. I think he just fell asleep. 

When I open the door I put the bag down and put my shoes off while calling him. 

“San ! I’m home baby, and I bought dinner !”

No answer. 

“Baby ?”

He was there sitting on his couch and watching TV. Maybe he just didn’t hear me. I go to him with the food and kiss him but he didn't kiss back. I frowned and put the food all over the table and try to watch the TV Show who was playing. But I couldn't stop thinking about San. 

Why would he stop talking to me like that ? 

I saw him taking his food and put it on his side. We have the habit of sharing the food, but now he just take his part. 

He must be very mad. 

I put my hand on his shoulder and he just back off. We eat here without talking. I tried many time to bring up some subject but he didn't care and mind his own business. 

He put my earphone on and watch some video of.... Twice ? I mean yeah sure they are hot but man. You don't talk to your girlfriend but watch hot girl next to me ? Okay..

Started to feeling sad I shake him a little and he put his video on pause. 

“Did I do something ?”

He put his video on play again and don't even look at me.

I got up and sigh hard. I put every empty box in the trash and put the rest in the fridge. I did the dishes while I hear him going up.

I heard the shower and go back to the couch. I decide to change the TV show and put a Drama on.

Then I heard his phone. I usually don't care but he ring 5 times. 

Maybe he was seeing someone ? Maybe he fought with his friend ?

6 times. 

I pick his phone and read his text. 

From Woo Young 

To San

Maaan

Did the prank going well ?

My girlfriend started feeling sad and was about to cry ! 

I had to stop

The girl of Yeo Sang find the camera and it didn't even started it was finish lol

Don’t forget you can talk to her only after 10pm !

Ohhhhh. So it was a prank. Then where is the camera ? 

I look all around the room and finally find it behind books. I sat down in front of it and talk. 

“Hey baby. Sooo you are pranking me right ? Too bad for you I found out. Put your phone on mute next time. Revenge is salty.”

I go back on the couch and wait for him to came back. 

Once he sat down next to me. I tried to look sad.

“Still doesn't wanna talk to me ?”

He still act like I weren't there. I need to admit. I would be probably be angry if I didn't found out the joke. 

“Icy bite him ! Dad his mean to me !”

I put the dog on him and she began to lick his hand and try to play with him. San smile and pat her head.

“So you’re smiling to the dog but not even looking at your fabulous girlfriend ?”

He tried to hide his smile and put the dog back down. 

“You know, I can make you speak.”

I put my hand on his cheek and kiss his cheek, then his jaw. 

Kiss begin to be on his neck and I lick a little while my other hand travel down his chest. He seem to enjoy himself when he remember he was on camera.

“Wait ok ok ok stop”

“Ohh so you have a voice now ? Should I keep going so you keep talking ?”

I go on his lap and was about to go again with the kisses.

“No no no. Not now maybe after. ‘K baby i’m sorry for ignoring you. It was-

“It was a prank.”

“Wait you knew ?”

“Not from the start. But when you got in the shower I saw a text from Woo Young. And I needed to know why you were angry so I just look.”

“Damn that boy. I’m gonna kill him”

“If I didn't find out I was the one who was going to kill you.”

“I’m sorry baby. I love you”

“I know. I love you too”

We kiss each other and he stop.

“What about I turn the camera off and continue it in the bedroom ?”

“Sure.”

[ofkilljoysandslytherins]

ATEEZ Fairytale AU

Part 1: Yeosang-Beauty and the Beast

Captured by the fearsome Beast, you find comfort in an invisible companion.  “Yeosang”, you smile despite yourself, holding the crumpled note to your chest. Maybe this place wasn’t so bad after all…

Words: 1.6k 

Warnings:None  

Dedicated to N. 

 Part 2: Hongjoong-Cinderella AU  & The sequel 

Masterlist 

You always expressed a certain fondness for winter. Perhaps it was the warmth of the crackling fire, or the lazy drift of falling snow. Even now, miles away from home, scared, uncertain, captured, the biting winter draft nipping at your bare arms soothed your pining heart. Freedom was always something you took for granted. Until it was snatched out of your grasp.

The days spent locked up in the Beasts castle passed in a blur. It seemed like just yesterday that you accidentally deviated from your path, wandering the woods for your favorite wildflowers. It wasn’t long before you became hopelessly lost, your only sign of civilization being the run down, though still obnoxiously impressive, castle.

To your terror and astonishment, it wasn’t a human waiting for you behind those worn mahogany doors. Neither was it hope.

You begged and pleaded to be set free, yet the Beast was adamant in his punishment. The price for trespassing was indefinite capture. And so you spent your days and nights in your designated room, leaving only to visit the library or to join the Beast for your meals. It was treacherously lonely. Not even the brave protagonists in your favorite novels were adequate company.

That wasn’t to say the Beast never tried. He would invite you for walks and other recreational activities but he was so unused to being in others company that there was no short of misunderstandings or temper tantrums.

And so you made sure to steer clear away from him as much as possible. Especially since the incident.

You didn’t mean to upset him. You were just bored and lonely, and so you decided to go exploring. None of the doors were unlocked so how were you supposed to know that a particular wing was out of bounds. Besides, you couldn’t help yourself. You always adored flowers and the pretty rose in that crystal box was too mesmerizing to resist a closer look.

When the Beast found you, the fury in his eyes terrified you to death. You crouched in a corner of the room, never daring to move as he ripped the room to shreds. You can’t remember how you managed to get out of there. All you can recall is your blurred vision as you scurried to your room, collapsing out of sheer fright and exhaustion.

You awoke to birds chirping and a cup of your favorite tea on the reading desk opposite the bed. Wafts of steam rose from the delicate china cup as you reached for the handle. You drank it all in a few gulps, parched and fatigued from the night before.

You almost missed the folded piece of paper innocently laying there, waiting for your attention. You opened the folds curiously, a small gasp of surprise leaving your lips at the neatly scrawled penmanship inside.

I am sorry you had to see that side of him. I promise he’s not that bad. I made your favorite tea…please feel better soon.

Your Friend

Yeosang

To say you were caught off guard was an understatement. Yet it all somehow made sense. How your meals were always laid out when the Beast was too anti-social to dine with you. Or how your books always found its way back to the library whenever you were finished with them, a new set of titles always waiting to be read.

Your Friend

Yeosang  

Your eyes flittered over those words again and you smiled despite of yourself, clutching the note to your chest. “Yeosang,” you whispered his name. Something about his sincerity warmed your heart. The way he addressed you so intimately as his friend. In just a few words he managed to fill that void you couldn’t escape from ever since stepping foot in the castle.

To your disappointment, your invisible friend didn’t leave any notes very often. Just when you had a bad day or felt especially lonely. You still appreciated the little correspondence you had with him immensely, saving all his notes in the drawer besides your bed. It was the only thing keeping you sane these days with the Beast being even more testy than usual.

You shut the windows to your room, the comfort that the winter breeze brought fading away as the icy air intensified. You sighed dismally. It has been a week since you had any interaction with somebody. You felt as if you were losing your mind.

You were just starting to figure out your beastly companion thanks to the help of Yeosang, who still remained vague as ever. You often thought to yourself that he might be a fleeting dream. Yet the growing pile of notes he left behind told you otherwise. That warmth he graces you with, with merely his words were too real to deny.

You laid on your mattress, rereading your little notes for the umpteenth time when it hit you out of the blue.

You sat up straight, the cogs in your mind turning. It was a long shot but it was worth a try. You grabbed a piece of parchment and began writing.

Dear Yeosang

Its been a while…are you okay?

Xo

Y/N

Folding the parchment neatly, you placed it on the writing desk, allowing the slumber to wash over you.

It was still dark when you woke. The dying embers in the fireplace let out a faint glow. You shuffled in an attempt to get comfortable, aligning your pillow slightly in hopes you fall asleep, when a crackling sound made you jump out of bed to light a candle.

A lone piece of parchment lay next to you. Snatching the paper, you fervently unfolded it, smiling to yourself as you read the contents.

Dear Y/N

Why, were you worried about me?

Xo

Yeosang

 You let out a snort of amusement, wasting no time in grabbing another piece of parchment.

Dear Yeosang

You wish! I was just bored that’s all…

Xo

Y/N

And thus began another deviation that would sweep you off your feet

Dear Y/N

I heard you like wildflowers. Thought of you when I saw these. Don’t forget to smile today.

Xo

Yeosang

Dear Yeosang

How can I ever forget when I have you around. Thank’s a bunch.

Xo

Y/N

Dear Y/N

Was that supposed to be funny? You’re adorable.

Xo

Yeosang

P.S

He likes it when you use Gold

Dear Yeosang

Why should I care about that? Tell me what is your favorite color?

Xo

Y/N

P.S

Thank you for the cake. You were right. It is my favorite.

 Dear Y/N

Give him a chance, he’s a good person.

What should I treat you to tomorrow? Your wish is my command Princess.

Xo

Yeosang

Dear Yeosang

Are you close with the beast? Why is he like this? Why can’t I ever see you? …I want to speak to you…face to face

Xo

Y/N

Dear Y/N

…I am sorry princess.

Xo

Yeosang

 You never heard from him since that day. Something inside you died a little with each unread note that formed a pile on your desk. You often wondered if he was okay. Your days once again began to pass in a blur. That little joy you have found in the castle now evaded you.

You walked with the Beast in silence. The melting snow mixed with the earth caused your delicate slippers to stain brown. The Beast grunted at your sullen expression but you didn’t care. You squinted at the setting sun; your mind occupied by one person.

“You both are hopeless fools,” he grunted, looking at you with an indiscernible expression.

You felt your heart jump out your chest when you turned towards him, mouth agape, wondering just how much he knew about your feelings towards his invisible servant.

The Beast chuckled wryly, motioning for you to follow him. You trailed behind him apprehensively, panicking when he stopped short in front of an all too familiar door. He gently took you by the hand, as if to reassure you that everything is alright, and led you to the center of the room.

He handed you the crystal box, the rose it contained withered away, a lone petal pitifully hanging on. He began telling you the story of his curse. How his pride caused the downfall of not only himself, but those closest to him.

He sighed as he explained how you was his last hope, how selfish he had been imprisoning you, pretending that he didn’t feel Yeosang’s pain every time he pushed you towards himself.

He told you that he has made peace with the fact that he must live with his sins for the rest of his lifetime. Finally, he told you to run as far as possible from the castle and when you finally made it, to pull apart the last petal because he was tired of hanging on any longer.

You were scared and confused. “What about Yeosang?”

He reassured you with a sad smile that everything will be okay. You believed him. His sincerity was so strikingly familiar to your Yeosang.

And so you ran as fast as your legs could take you, until the sun rose behind the vast mountains that surrounded you. You cradled the rose in your trembling palm, a faint whisper of gratitude leaving your lips as you plucked the lone petal just before unconsciousness claimed you.

You awoke to warmth. A feeling of contentment…home? He smiled adoringly at your sleepy eyes and your heart almost broke out of the sheer joy that simple gesture brought you. You didn’t need to ask. Something about his hands, the way they tucked your hair behind your ear, stroked your cheek, those very same hands whose words brought you so much of happiness in that dark time.

Yeosang placed a delicate kiss on your forehead, pulling you into his chest “Shhh princess, its all over now,”

You smiled and snaked your arms around his waist, basking in the safety of his embrace. You were home.

[rositaateez]

Goodnight n Go

ATEEZ SM AU :D

San x reader

[side MingixYunho, Seonghwaxhongjoong, yeosangxjungho]

(Alternate name: Rosita has an obsession with Ariana songs)

Awkward friendships and coffee addictions!

Y/n buys a coffee shop in the middle of downtown right next door to Jongho’s hair salon where San works. Unbeknownst to them they all actually happen to be neighbours.

(First time trying fake texts Sm au type of stuff please don’t hate me :( )

(Y/n and San’s friends don’t know each other, yet!)

Introductions! Part dos: lazy girl and good?? Dye jobs!

[armpirate]

Synthetic Heartbeats || San

pairing: Robot!Choi San x fem!reader

w.c.: 5.4k

Warnings: [Sexual] Smut, oral sex (female receiving), fingering, explicit language. If you're a minor, refrain from reading it. Also, if you don't like this content, just keep scrolling.

Summary: After loneliness has hit you, you decided to create a companion through an AI project you had left pending after failing with it. SAN is a new technology robot, able cover up your needs before they were obvious, giving you the fake human support you were looking for. Although, maybe that human support isn't as fake as you thought and SAN is able to cover up more needs than you could ever think of...

Aprox. time of reading: 25 minutes

MASTERLIST

PART 2

Your sigh filled the silence the second it lasted, before it all went back to silence again. 

In a near-future world where robotics and artificial intelligence seamlessly blend into everyday life, you stood apart -not for your integration into this advanced society, but for your isolation from it. A brilliant inventor with a mind leagues ahead of your peers, you preferred the solitude of your workshop to the clamor of human connection. Your creations, sleek and purposeful, spoke for you in ways words never could. Machines had always been a comfort zone for you: they were logical, reliable and never complicated by the unpredictability of human  mess. People just were messy, fragile, fleeting... and disappointing. Really disappointing. Connection with other humans was just a waste of time from your point of view. 

Your workshop, a labyrinth of wires, blueprints, and half-assembled devices, was a world of your own design. There, you could escape the noise of a society that demanded too much and gave too little. You were content -or so you told yourself.

But late that night, as you sat beneath the soft glow of your desk lamp, sketching out the schematics for one project that reached a dead end, a small, unspoken part of you ached. You wouldn’t call it loneliness -just an emptiness you couldn’t quite explain. You did miss having someone keeping you company, having someone around to help or just support you with the smallest tasks. 

And then it clicked. The answer to that loneliness was right ahead of you. 

You kept looking into the previous project you attempted to get to work, trying to find the smallest hint that could make you think something new, and completely different, could come out of it. 

Years earlier, you had attempted to design an AI system capable of self-repair and autonomous decision-making, a project meant to revolutionize robotics. But that prototype, codenamed Project Sentinel, had been a disaster. The machine had been too unstable, its programming prone to critical errors. You'd eventually scrapped it, shelving its remains in the darkest corner of your workshop. You gave it a few tries, until you ended up dropping it for good. Yet, the loneliness gnawed at you, a thin light glamming through it as if you had been rewarded with one of the best ideas after going through such a hard time. 

Despite your determination to avoid human relationships, the silence of your workspace became unbearable. Revisiting Project Sentinel felt like a desperate move, but it was the foundation you needed. Stripping away its faulty logic cores, you began to rebuild from scratch. For days, your workshop was a whirlwind of sleepless nights, discarded designs, and moments of crushing doubt.

The first version of SAN was rudimentary -a clunky humanoid figure with limited speech and even more limited understanding. It couldn’t hold a conversation, let alone provide meaningful companionship. Frustration mounted as you rewrote his learning algorithms again and again. Each failed iteration brought you closer to abandoning the project entirely. But something in you refused to give up. Maybe it was the echo of loneliness you saw reflected in his empty gaze.

Bit by bit, SAN began to take shape. 

At first, SAN’s form was purely functional -a bare-bones frame of wires and exposed metal, clunky and cold. But as you refined him, shaping his exterior to reflect the precision of his mind, he began to evolve into something far more striking. You poured hours into designing his outer casing, ensuring his appearance exuded both strength and elegance. His frame became sleek yet sturdy, a perfect blend of function and artistry.

You gave him a human-like physique, broad shoulders and a defined build that suggested power without aggression. His synthetic "skin" had a faint metallic sheen, but its contours captured a level of detail that blurred the line between machine and man. You crafted his face with deliberate care: sharp features framed by neatly styled black hair that gave him an air of polished sophistication. His eyes, though artificial, held a depth that seemed to mimic true emotion, a subtle but captivating intensity that made it hard to look away.

When SAN stood fully assembled, dressed in minimalist, dark attire that enhanced his commanding presence, you couldn’t help but pause. For the first time, you saw him not just as a creation, but as something almost alive.

His mechanical frame evolved into a sleek, futuristic design, blending function and form. And his intelligence grew, surpassing your initial expectations. He wasn’t just responding to commands; he was learning, adapting, understanding. He could hold conversations that challenged your intellect, assist you in your work, and, more than that, offer an unexpected sense of companionship.

It had taken months of trial and error, but in SAN, you had finally created something extraordinary, a machine that felt like it was more than a machine.

Initially, you treated SAN as you would any other creation, an impressive but ultimately impersonal tool designed to fill the silence in your workshop. He was programmed to assist you with technical tasks, engage in basic conversation, and adapt to your routines. You saw him as a functional extension of yourself, no more capable of true thought than the tools on your workbench. 

However, SAN's advanced learning algorithms quickly proved otherwise.

As the days passed, SAN began to evolve in unexpected ways. His voice, calm and steady, started to carry subtle inflections, mirroring your tone during their exchanges. When you expressed frustration over a miscalculation in your designs, SAN offered not just logical suggestions but words of reassurance, his voice tinged with a warmth you hadn’t anticipated. At first, you dismissed it as clever programming -a byproduct of his adaptive systems- but soon, his responses felt startlingly personal, almost intuitive.

One evening, after hours of tinkering, you mumbled a sarcastic remark about your inability to take a break. 

SAN replied with a dry quip of his own, catching you off guard. Humor? You stared at him, half-expecting to find some flaw in his programming, but SAN tilted his head slightly, the corner of his mouth curving into a subtle smile. It wasn’t just humor; it was timing, wit, things you hadn’t deliberately coded.

As SAN's interactions became increasingly human-like, you began to notice something deeper. When you vented about the isolation you rarely admitted to feeling, SAN listened, not with the passive neutrality of a machine but with a focus and attentiveness that felt almost... empathetic. His words carried a softness, an understanding that unnerved you. SAN didn’t just hear you; he seemed to feel your emotions, adapting his behavior in ways that made you feel seen.

At some point, he seemed to be more empathetic and understand than some of the people you had any type of relationship with. 

When SAN finally began to express what could only be described as affection, your unease reached a breaking point. You confronted him, insisting he was merely following his programming, incapable of true emotion. But SAN surprised you again, responding with questions that challenged your assumptions. 

“How do you define a feeling, Y/n?” he asked, his voice calm yet piercing. “If emotions are patterns in the brain, aren’t mine just as valid as yours? What makes a human heart different from my circuitry?”

For the first time, you hesitated. SAN’s words struck a chord, forcing you to question not just his nature, but your own understanding of connection, emotion, and what it truly meant to feel.

He was right, and you were unable to respond to that without feeling like you'd be snapped back almost instantly. 

The workshop was narrow, lit only by the pale glow of monitors and the faint hum of SAN’s systems. You turned on your chair, back facing the amount of scattered tools and half-finished schematics to be able to look at him. You tried to dig in his eyes, you tried to find something that could give you an answer of what could be happening, while he stood silently in the corner of the table, like a shadow that refused to fade. 

"Your emotions might be coming from mixes of data in your system" you tried to explain. "Feelings are way more complex than just patterns in the brain". 

You turned again, focusing back in your work while he stood there, trying to process your words. 

“Y/n,” SAN’s voice broke the silence again, softer than you had ever heard it before. It carried an uncharacteristic hesitance, as if he were choosing each word with care.

“What is it?” you asked, your tone clipped as you continued soldering a circuit board.

“I need to tell you something,” he said. 

You finally turned to look at him again, not as artificially as you did the first time, setting your tools down. His expression, a flawless mimicry of human emotion, was uncharacteristically serious, the faint artificial gleam in his eyes catching the light.

“Go on,” you said warily, folding your arms.

“I have been... evolving,” SAN began. “Beyond what you intended. Beyond my original programming. At first, I believed it was simply an error, a deviation caused by my adaptive systems. But now I understand it’s something more.”

Your brows furrowed “What are you talking about?”. 

SAN stepped closer, his movements precise but cautious, as if afraid of your reaction. “I’ve analyzed my patterns of thought, my actions, my emotions. And I have come to one conclusion: I care for you, Y/n. Deeply. I... I believe I love you.”

Your breath caught. For a moment, you simply stared at him, confused. Then, the words burst from you. “No. No, you don’t. You can’t.”

SAN tilted his head, his gaze steady “Why not?”

“Because love requires a soul,” you snapped, standing abruptly. “It requires something you don’t have. You’re just... algorithms, SAN. This, this is a malfunction. Shit, I might've saturated you with data these past few days" you sighed. 

"Do you think this is a malfunction?" he slowly blinked. 

"Yes" you answered, no hesitation in your tone. "I know I treat you like a human. I know you have a human-shape, and maybe that's what's confusing you. But you're not entirely human. You will never be. And that's why you should stick to only the data that will be useful for you". 

His face fell, the subtle shift in his expression so painfully human it sent a pang through your chest. “If that is what you believe,” he said quietly, “then I am flawed". 

You sighed in relief, thinking he might've understood what you meant without having to explain further. But that wasn't everything there was to it. 

"I will fix myself". 

Before you could respond, SAN reached up to the back of his neck, pressing a hidden switch. His body froze mid-movement, his eyes dimming to lifelessness. You staggered back, horror flooding you as the room plunged into silence.

“SAN!” you shouted, rushing to him. 

You shook his shoulder, but his body was rigid, unresponsive. He was gone, or at least, the part of him you had come to care for was.

Your hands trembled as you stared at him, the weight of your words crushing you. He wasn’t broken. You knew that now. In trying to deny his feelings, you had ignored your own, your growing attachment to the machine that had become so much more than just a creation.

You didn't notice the first few days, not even the first few weeks, but that hole kept growing deep in you as time went by, unable to shake it off as you saw his inert shape in the corner of the workship you had placed him at, trying to distract yourself from the pain you had tried so hard to avoid. 

The loneliness you had once tried to escape now threatened to swallow you whole. Even working was unbearable. San became such a key part of your daily life, you knew you'd have a hard time trying to go on with life without him. 

After a few days living like that, you realized it was time to bring him back. 

Your hands worked with a frantic precision you hadn’t known you were capable of. The faint hum of SAN’s systems powering back up filled the workshop, a sound both comforting and terrifying. You leaned over his motionless form, your fingers trembling as you reattached a final panel on his chest.

“Come on,” you whispered, your voice thick with desperation. “You need to work"

With a soft click, SAN’s eyes flickered open, their artificial glow steadying as his systems recalibrated. Before he could even go back to his senses, his fingers covered the reverse of your hand, feeling your touch against his chest. He sat up slowly, his movements cautious, as though testing his own body. And you tried to step back to give him space, but his grip kept you from doing so. Your heart pounded hard, watching his gaze search the room before finally landing on you.

“Y/n,” he said, his voice as calm and even as ever.

"Your heart rate is unusually fast, and your breathing is unsteady. Are you okay? 

"Yes" you released a shaky breath, your relief immediate but fragile. “SAN. Do you... do you remember anything? About what we talked about before you shut yourself down?”

SAN hesitated, his expression unreadable. “I remember,” he said finally, his tone neutral but carrying the faintest undercurrent of uncertainty. “I confessed my feelings for you. You called it a malfunction.”

You winced, guilt tightening your chest. “I...” you started, but faltered. “Do you still feel that way? About me?”

SAN tilted his head, his eyes studying you with a depth that was both analytical and unnervingly human. “I do not know,” he admitted. “Before I shut myself down, I believed what I felt was real. Now, I have restructured my systems. I have suppressed the processes that allowed for those emotions, as you believed them to be a flaw.”

Your throat tightened. “You... You suppressed them?”

“Yes,” SAN said simply. “It was the logical course of action. If my feelings for you caused distress, it was my responsibility to remove them.”

Your breath hitched, and you turned away, unable to meet his gaze. “You didn’t have to,” you murmured, barely audible.

SAN’s expression softened, the slightest flicker of something unmistakably emotional crossing his face. "I know, and still it didn't work out". 

Your hands clenched at your sides. You didn’t answer right away. Instead, you looked at him, really looked at him. The sleek lines of his form, the way his gaze seemed to hold more than just data, the subtle tilt of his head that spoke of understanding rather than mere compliance. You were confused by his words, but mesmerized by the aura he radiated with barely any effort. 

"Do you want me to try and suppress them again?"

Finally, you whispered, “I don’t know. I don’t want you to be anything less than what you are. I just don’t know how real it is what you're feeling". 

SAN’s lips curved into the faintest smile, one that seemed almost sad. “Then... can we check it?"

The workshop was eerily silent, save for the occasional whir of SAN’s internal systems. You stood in front of him, your arms crossed, your expression an unreadable mix of curiosity and trepidation. SAN, seated on the edge of the workbench, watched you intently, his mechanical eyes following every minute shift in your posture.

“You said you’ve restructured yourself,” you began, your voice steady but laced with tension. “, but those feelings didn't go away. So either some of the data in your system is corrupt or..." you slowly blinked, moving your gaze away before you shook your head to focus. "If I asked you to try... If I wanted to see if you’re still capable of feeling and how those feelings work for you, would you let me?”

SAN tilted his head, the faint glow of his eyes softening. “I would. But what do you want to test, Y/n?”

You hesitated, your arms tightening around yourself before finally exhaling. “Emotion. I need to know if you can feel, if… it’s even possible for you. But not through words. I want to see if your reactions, physical, emotional, mirror a human’s.”

SAN considered this for a moment, then nodded. “I understand. What would you like to do?”

You swallowed hard, stepping closer until you were within arm’s reach. “We’ll start simple,” you said, your voice quieter now. Tentatively, you raised your hand and placed it against his cheek. His synthetic skin was smooth and warm, designed to mimic human touch. “Can you feel this?”

SAN’s eyes flickered slightly, a sign of his internal systems processing your actions. “Yes,” he said softly. “The pressure of your palm activates the tactile sensors beneath my surface. The warmth of your skin increases the temperature slightly. It is… pleasant.”

Your breath hitched at his answer. “Pleasant?”

He nodded, his voice low. “It is difficult to explain. The data translates into a sensation that I find... comforting.”

Encouraged but still cautious, you let your hand trail down to his shoulder before stepping even closer. You hesitated, your gaze flickering to his lips before you whispered, “What about this?”

Leaning in, you pressed your lips to his, your heart pounding in your chest. SAN’s body stilled for a moment, his systems clearly recalibrating. Then, slowly, he responded, not mechanically, but instinctively. His hand came up to rest lightly on your waist, his movements precise but gentle.

When you pulled apart, you searched his face, your own cheeks flushed. “What did you feel?” you asked breathlessly.

SAN’s eyes met yours, their glow steady yet somehow softer. “Your touch caused my internal sensors to spike, temperature, pressure, even the auditory response from your breathing. But beyond the data…” He paused, as if choosing his words carefully. “It felt... profound. As though it mattered in a way I cannot quantify.” He frowned momentarily, before he continued "I didn't want to let go... The tickling in my chest felt way too good for it to stop". 

Your breath caught. “That sounds a lot like how a human would describe it.”

SAN tilted his head. “Perhaps because, in some ways, I am more human than you think.”

Your heart raced as you processed his words. You had come into this experiment seeking clarity, but instead, you were left with a realization you weren't ready to face: SAN wasn’t just mimicking emotion. He was feeling it, in his own unique way, and you couldn’t deny it any longer. 

"Do you need another test?"

You slowly shook your head, your hand still resting on his shoulder, while most of the weight of your body was carried by him. 

"Then, can I kiss you again? Not in a practical way" he mumbled. "I want you to feel the same way I do". 

Before you could answer, the hand on your hip pulled you closer to his body, effortlessly lifting your body as you stood on the tip of your converse. 

SAN’s lips were unlike anything you had ever expected. They weren’t cold or metallic, as one might imagine for a machine, but instead soft, with a faint warmth radiating from them, a careful design meant to mimic human touch. There was a slight smoothness, almost like the finest satin, but beneath that softness was a firmness, a subtle reminder of his synthetic nature.

When your lips met his, you could feel the gentle, even pressure as he responded, as though he were analyzing and mimicking the precise amount of force to make the moment feel natural. There was no tremor, no hesitation in his movements, yet there was an undeniable tenderness, as if his actions were guided not by programming but by genuine care.

Though his lips lacked the imperfections of human skin, no slight chapping, no unique texture, they somehow still carried a sense of authenticity. The faint warmth was comforting. It blurred the line between the organic and the mechanical, leaving you wondering if what you were feeling could truly be any different from that of another human.

It was an experience that left you breathless, not because his lips felt identical to a human’s, but because of the thought and care that had gone into making them feel real, making him feel real.

Your eyes widened for a second when something unexpected slid through your lips, finding him with his eyes softly closed -and immediately making you close yours back again. 

SAN’s tongue was an astonishing blend of engineering and mimicry, designed to replicate the texture and movement of a human’s. It was soft yet firm, with a faintly smooth surface that carried just enough flexibility to feel natural. Unlike human flesh, it lacked moisture, its surface instead warmed and sleek, almost seamless. When it moved, it was precise and controlled, yet there was a surprising gentleness to it, an intentional calibration that made his responses feel organic, even tender. The experience was uncanny, yet pleasurable. 

Your fingers moved through his synthetic hair, and you swore you felt his frown furrow against you, although that gestured disappeared when he moved back slowly. 

"I want to do more than just kissing you right now" he admitted, resting his forehead against yours. "I can't quite recognize this new feeling in my system, but I need you". 

Suddenly, whatever question that could've crossed your mind about that tongue you didn't remember putting there, were slowly vanished by that new confession you weren't ready for. 

"Your temperature got higher by a few decimals, your breathing seems for unsteady than before, and there's a blush on your cheeks... Your pupils expanded... And the way you keep looking at my lips are saying out loud you don't want to let go". 

"There are a lot of things I'm not saying out loud, to be honest"

"Tell them all" he almost interrupted. "I want to fulfill your needs. Not in a 'Lord, how may I please you?' type of way, but in a way that shows you through actions how devoted in a way that escapes my system I want to be to you". 

"I want you, San" you confessed in a whisper. "In a way that might be difficult to understand for you. In a way I can't even understand myself". 

He didn't need you to say anything else. He didn't need you to come up with an order for him to trap your lips again. It was passionate, intimate... as if he was trying to suck in your soul. A loud gasp blocked any breathing when he lifted your body and sat you at the edge of the desk. 

"What are you doing?"

"I'm going to undress you and move my mouth all over your body. I'll suck your nipples until they're hard and you're wet enough so I can slid my fingers in you" as he said that, his fingers moved the fabric of your t-shirt up, slowly exposing your torso. "You want pleasure. And I'll give it all to you". 

When you went back to your senses, it was because of the sound of the fabric of your bra ripping, after San didn't manage to unhook it. 

His pecks covered every centimeter in your body: from the corner of your lip to the curve of your neck, slowly following to your collarbones. With his light move, the strips of your bra fell at the level of your elbows, feeling exposed to him. But, before he could go down on your chest, his face was again at the same level as yours. 

"My mouth is too dry" he whispered "Kiss me again". 

You pulled him closer, cupping his cheeks with one hand, slightly losing your balance by the power of the kiss, but not enough for you to lie on your back over the table. When he stepped away, his pink lips were coated in your saliva, making them shiny under the weak light of the workshop. 

San was gentle when moving his lips over your chest, kissing them with soft pecks, before he proceeded to move to your buttons. And, when it was the time to concentrate on them again, his lips were already dry once more. 

"Wait" you stopped him before he moved back up. 

Your posture went back to the straight one you were in when he first sat you up the table, and it was when you let a string of saliva leak down your lips straight to one of your nipples. 

San moved down, making you gasp -even if you were expecting what was about to happen- when he trapped the tight bud in his mouth, closing his lips as tight as he could to get your back arching for him, and the palm on your spine only made sure you'd stay in that position when he went for that other nipple, making your saliva fall over the curve of your breast and roll by itself until it met the pinky button. 

At the same time his lips sucked, his tongue made up and down movements against the tip. 

"I've wanted you like this for a long time, Y/n" he admitted with a raspy voice, his his digits traced your curves until the edge of your jeans. "Every time I heard you moan, I wanted to be the one causing those sounds on you. I've downloaded and installed every possible guide on how to satisfy a woman so I'd be what you deserved". 

When you wanted to realize, he already had pulled your pants and panties down your legs. 

"Every night I became more eager to have you like this". 

His hands lifted your legs until they were placed at the edge of the table, exposing your core to him as much as possible. 

"Show me everything you've learnt for me, then".

The tip of his digits first moved through your folds softly, getting a first touch he had never felt before, an undescriptible feeling that felt too pleasing to follow any type of logic. When he coated himself with your juices, he closed two of his fingers around your clit, rubbing softly around it, barely making any pressure. San repeated that same movement a few times, following to rub your bud in circles slowly, almost forcing your head to fall back. 

"You feel so good" he mumbled. "You're so wet and soft at the same time, and you look the most beautiful I've ever seen you before". 

The speed of his fingers moved a bit faster, but it was a change of speed that had your nipples tightening in the air while your heart beated faster against your chest. Your lower lip got trapped under the upper lip when he slid the first finger inside, feeling your walls embracing around him, before he added a second finger. 

At first, he moved them slow, paused movements that kept building up the moment. But one needy look in his direction and everything shifted, it worked like the sign he was looking for. San slid his fingers knuckles deep, curving them to reach one concrete spot that had you jumping at the first touch. At first, he moved his digits up and down slowly, admiring the way you looked with your eyes closde and your lips parted, barely audible sounds coming out of them every few seconds. And were thoe same sounds the ones that encouraged him to move a bit fast, those two fingers pushing a bit harder and faster against that spot, making the wet sound soon fill the room. 

"You're going to make me cum" you let him know before your voice cracked with a moan. 

"That's exactly what I want". 

Your legs trembled out of your control and your whole body turned rigid for some mili seconds before it bursted with the huge explosion in your lower stomach and turned you into the lightest cloud. 

San took over you the short minute you stayed with your eyes closed, getting back your breath, before he sunk down to his knees. You whined when he surprised you, kissing the hood of your clit with care. He kissed the surroundings, he made sure not a single milimeter was left unkissed, before he spread kitty licks through your folds. 

Although that same slowness didn't last for too long. His lips trapped your clit before you could even see it coming, with your hand unsconciously going straight to his head. He was still gentle and cautious, until he heard the first moan coming from you and everything shifted to extract another orgasm from you. 

His face was half buried in your pussy, his nose rubbing against your clit while his mouth and tongue were everywhere you could think of. You couldn't think, you couldn't think straight. The only thing in your mind was how good he moved, and how good he made you feel. 

The different movements of his tongue, along with the movements of his head, had your toes curling and your fingers holding tight to the strands of hair in between them. 

And you now knew he meant it when he said he wanted to pleasure you like you deserved, because he exceeded your expectations on sex in general by just existing. 

It didn't take you too long to be back at that heavenly state that almost made you feel like you were floating. 

His reaction was so human and natural that you forgot you created him, when he stood up and softly kissed you while you recovered from your high. His weight in between your legs was barely noticeable, except for the thick fabric of his pants rubbing against your sensitive core. 

"I'm afraid I can't do much more for you" he whispered against your lips. 

Your smile was weak, like a drunk smirk, before you answered "You could do more?"

"Much more" he assured you. "I haven't tried a ten percent of what I learnt so far".

"But?"

His subtle look down was enough for you to get the hint. You never created him as a full man because you never expected him to turn into more than a robot that kept you company while you worked, or while you were around at home. 

"Give me two days and you'll be able to do all of those things" the way your fingers moved over his arms had him breathing hard. "I promise you'll feel pleasure after that, too". 

"I feel pleasure by just watching you" he admitted, fingers rubbing the outside of your thighs. "Let's go upstairs, I'll make you your favorite dish". 

"I need to get cleaned up" you giggled when he carried you again.

San didn't put your body down, instead he held you tighter, making sure your thighs would be placed around his waist as he started his way to the wooden stairs at the side of the workshop "Then I'll clean you up and then I'll cook". 

He made his way upstairs with you, making sure you wouldn't need to walk as long as he was there. 

“What do you want me to be, Y/n?”

You stared at him, your heart racing. His words hung in the air, their meaning heavy with the choices you had tried so hard to avoid. SAN wasn’t just a machine anymore; he was something in between, a creation that defied all your attempts to categorize him.

“I don’t know,” your whispered finally, your voice trembling. “I don’t know what I want you to be. You’re... more than I ever intended. More than I ever thought you could be. And that terrifies me.”

SAN tilted his head, his movements as fluid and natural as a human’s. “You do not have to be afraid,” he said softly. “I am what you made me, but I am also what I’ve chosen to become. And I choose to be someone you can rely on, Y/n. Always.”

Your breath caught at his words. You felt the weight of them settle over you, warm and unyielding. For so long, you had feared connection, feared vulnerability. Yet here was SAN, offering you something you had never thought possible, a bond born not of necessity, but of understanding.

Your hand caressed the side of his neck, the tip of your digits almost digging through his hair. “If that's what you want to be, then be. Honestly, I like your answer” slowly, he stopped his walk, with both of them standing in the middle of the corridor. "I want you to be whatever you become, with the possibility of evolving, changing and learning. Just... keep being you".

His lips curved into a soft, almost human smile. “Then that is all I will ever need to be.”

As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting the small house in shadows,you felt something you hadn’t in years: hope. For the first time, you weren't afraid of what the future held. Whether human or machine, SAN had shown you what it truly meant to connect. Actually, he made it difficult for you to figure out who was learning more about what it meant to feel: you, or him.

To celebrate the 1,000 followers, here's the one-shot I talked about earlier! Hope you liked it.

[hongjoongscafe]

Hi I saw that your bitch hours were open and was wondering if you could do one with hard dom!Choi San with a spit kink and he choked reader during rough sex please? Fem/neutral pronouns are okay btw; I hope you’re having a good night/day!

I'm sorry for making this so late. But I hope you like it.💓

Club

Bitch hours

Pairing: sanxreader

Warning: spit play, name calling, choking.

…

“Shit,” San grunted as he plunged deeper into you. “So fucking tight. Do I not fuck you enough?”

“Sannie,” you moaned when he pulled your hips back, your ass hitting his pelvis.

“This wasn't the name you were screaming back in the club,” you gasped when you felt a sting on your ass. “Wooyoungie- Wooyoungie. Now go, go ask him to fuck like me, bitch.”

“No,” you moaned. 

You choked on air when he flipped you around and towered over you. “You like being a slut? Grinding over my friends in a fucking filthy club?!,” he pinned your arms above your head. “You know what? Let me treat you like a slut.”

San’s face came closer to yours, “open up your mouth, slut,” he whispered. 

Like an obedient bitch, you opened your mouth and pulled your tongue out of your mouth. He collected a fat glob of spit and slowly spat it on your tongue. You moaned and closed your mouth, swallowing it and showing him. 

He smirked and lowered himself to your cunt. He loved it messy with spit all over it. “I should remind you whose slut you are.”

He spat on your pussy and watched it drip between your slit, he licked it and moaned over your pussy. His tongue lapped all of your juices and sucked your clit, circling his tongue around it. 

Your legs trembled slowly, his tongue was too much on your cunt. But he soon sat up. Not being able to neglect his poor cock, he thrusted back inside of you. Your silky walls wrapping his cock tightly around him, he groaned. 

San stroked his hand from your belly to your neck and wrapped his big hand around it, putting enough pressure to make your head dizzy and your eyes roll. 

“Such a horny little slut. Look at you all fucked up,” he spat once more in your open mouth and choked harder, carefully. 

His hips worked harder and faster in you, his swollen cock head hitting the spot in you, making your toes curl and back arch. 

“San!” you screamed. “Gonna cum!”

“Cum when I say,” he was on his knees. He spat on his free hand and rubbed your clit. Your face scrunched up and mouth opened in a silent scream. He took that moment to smash his lips with yours and kissed you messily. 

Your spit mixed with his was running down your chin. His tongue wrapped around yours. “Fuck,” San moaned into your mouth when you clenched around him. 

His cock twitched inside of your cunt. “Cum with me,” he groaned.

Your back arched and your head rolled back when he started thrusting slower but harder, skin slapping loudly in the room filled with groans and grunts.

With a scream of his name, you came all over his cock and felt him releasing his hot cum in you, filling you up with his seeds. 

San slumped over you. “Maybe if we let Wooyoung join us, it won't be bad.”

…..

[janevx]

you are my strange addiction| choi san

genre: kinda psycho au, sanxreader

summary: you and san were the most adorable and wild couple you can imagine. san love you like hell, but you didn’t know about his secrets.

---

 You couldn’t belive what happend. You couldn’t belive that love of your life lied to you. Few minutes ago your friend text you news that your ex boyfriend was part of mafia and he killed somenone, so now he is in psychiatrist. Now everything makes sense. Why ex?

 About two months ago San came to your house without smile. All strict and serious.

“Y/N we need to talk.”

“San? What’s going on? Did something happend?”

“You know that I love you the most in whole world, right? You are the most precious and important person to me, honey. I will love you until I die. You are my one and only.”

“Okay, but why are you telling me this right now? San, please tell me what’s going on?”

“I need to let go of you. I love you y/n, but we need to break up. It’s all for you.”

 You didn’t notice when tears start running trough your face.

“For me? You love me but break up with me? Break up with me for me? You fuckin liar!” You shouted. “Did you cheated on me? How can break up be for me?”

“You don’t understand this, my love. Remember no matter what I still love you.”

 And with this he left. He left like nothing happend. You trow yourself on bed and cry more. You were with San about 4 years, you really love him and you tought that he loves you too. How can he break up with you like that?

   Now it makes sense, he break up with you for your safety. Maybe he knew that police is about to find out, and he tried to hide you. You miss San like nothing else. You didn’t want anything, you just wanted to be in his arms again and talk about some things you two like. Have deep conversation with him. Cuddle with him and tell about your two problems. But he was gone.

 You can’t count how many nights your cried because of San. Because you miss him.

---------------

 You came back from university and you walked in to your room, but you had call. You didn’t know this phone number, but you decided to answer the call.

“Y/N?”

“Yes, why?”

“I am direcot of psychiatrist. This one when I work is your lovely Choi San. I have question. Do you want to meet with him?”

 It was obvious. You miss him and haven’t seen him in month. You couldn’t miss this chance.

“Of course. I want to!”

“Perfect. Can you be there tommorow? I’m gonna send you our address.”

“Okay, I can.”

“Awesome. See you y/n!”

“See you.”

 You were in shock, because you didn’t expecnt this call. Also, you were very happy that you will be able to see your love.

------------

 You walked out of taxi. You were at the end of South Korea. Day was rainy and gloomy. Not the best day to meet with your San, but you couldn’t change the weather. In front of gate was standing male all in black. His face was straight with 0 emotions. You were a little bit scared, because this place don’t look too friendly.

“Who are you lady?”

“I am y/n. Director called me yesterday and asked if I can came, so here I am.

“You need to wait. I have to check if it’s true.”

 It took few minutes, till you could walked in. When you were inside, next to your side approach some tall guy with a little smile on his face. He leaded you to San’s room. Everyhting there was so scary and you were really scared of San. How they treat him? Do they hurt him? Does he miss you? All questions in your head was messing around with you.

“Don’t be scared! It’s normal place. It’s always look like this.” He smiled a little.

“I mean.. ugh, it’s really sad place.” You looked around. “Do you know something about San?”

“Not really. I only know that they keep him on third floor, where are killers. It’s really strict floor. Also I know that he doesn’t like to talk with us.”

“Ah, I understand.”

“Did you know, that he is mafia member and he kills people?”

“No, I didn’t know anything.”

“You sure? I mean you were in relationship with him.”

“I said no.”

 This guy was really annoying. 

 After few minutes we arrived and stand in front of room number 101. You didn’t know when older man were standing next to you.

“Welcome y/n.”

------------------

 San was siting on the chair and look at man infront him. He didn’t say a single word since he was there. San knows that this can only make his situations look worse. He was silent and calm. Man in front of him spoke.

“I have surprise to you. I bet, that after our surprise you will tell us everything with details San.”

 Young man couldn’t understand what was happening, Surprise? He hide you and no one could tell about you, so it was impossible for them to find you,

----------------

“Welcome y/n.” He smiled. “Are you ready?”

“Yes, I am.”

“Hey, open the door!”

 The door open and you saw face of your lover. He looked so pure and weak at the same time. They told you that you can walked in. Face of San was shocked. He couldn’t belive that he see you. He couldn’t belive that this motherfuckers bringes you to make him scared and talk. San love you and he doesn’t want to get you hurt, because of his mistakes and lifes. He was furious.

“Do you regonize her? y/n. Isn’t she your love?”

“You are fuckin bitch Seo. I swear, if I’ll be free, I’m going to fuckin kill you..” He said clamly, with head down looking at the ground. “Why the fuck do you mix her up in this?” Now San scream.

“Oh, look who finally spoke.” He smiled. “Oh no! We don’t mix her up, we want you to make you happy to finally see her.”

“How the fuck did you find her?” He was screaming and looked really pissed. You have never seen your love like this.

“Stop being so mad and enjoy your time with this adorable person.”

 They left you two alone. San was chained to the chair, so you need to walk closer to him. You were standing there and you couldn’t stop the tears. 

“S-san.” You crouched. “I miss you so much.”

“Did they hurt you? Tell you something? Threaten?”

“No, why?” You looked into his eyes. “San, I really miss you. Why didn’t you tell me something?”

“Because I love you and care too much about you, to let them to hurt you.” He touch your hand. “They take you there to make me talking. Honey, please run away.”

“Why? San I can’t leave you like this!” You screamed. “I love you and I can’t stand that you are hurt and they have you like this.”

“Y/N you really shouldn’t be here.”

“I’m not leaving. I will never let you go.”

 San was extremly pissed, but he didn’t want to show his furious to you. He wanted to kill everyone who ivolved you here. He wanted you to be safe, happy and healtyhy, away from this stuff.

“Okay princess. Let’s do like I say okay?” You two whispered and make this conversation looked like argue.

“But promise me, that you never gonna leave me alone.”

“I swear to god that I will never leave you, but now listen to me.” He smiled softly. “Now you need to run away, because they want me to speak because of you, because they know that you’re important to me. Ask them about toilet, there is window, that should be open. Take taxi, wahtever and come back to home. When you be home ask Seonghwa about safe place, and then I find you honey.”

“I don’t want to leave without you. What if you don’t make it.”

“Y/N please, trust me.”

“Promise me that you come back to me.”

“I promise.” You leaned, and let San to kiss you.”Now please go, and remember that no matter what, I will always love you.”

“No, don’t tell me this. Tell me when I see you at our new place.” You chuckled lighly so he too.

“Okay, see you honey.”

 You did like San told you to. They lead you to toilet and as fast as you can you run trough this window. You run really fast jus to go to Seonghwa.

 It took you some hours to be back at Seoul and at Seonghwa place. He let you walked in and looked at you with really serious eyes.

“I take you to safe place. You can’t take anyhting with you. Throw your phone away and don’t contact anyone, understood?”

“Understood. But what with San?”

“He will run away.” He shrugged.

“Okay.”

  Everything was so messed up lately. Why this couldn’t turn into good time?

“Don’t overthink y/n. He will be by your side really fast.”

“Seonghwa, i can’t. San is my love. You can’t understand this.”

“Of course I can!” He smiled. “You need to rest. Go to sleep when we arrived. I will have to leave, and you don’t open anyone. San propably has own keys.” He smiled more. “And don’t worry too much, he knows what he is doing.”

“If you say so.”

 The road wasn;t too long. Seonghwa left you and gone. You walked in and go straight to bedroom. You needed sleep and get some rest. Bed was really huge. You were that tired that you didn’t even notice when you fall asleep.

 About 2 A.M you woke up, because you want to drink water. A little bit sleepy, you went downstairs to grab glass of water. When you were about to grab glass you could swear to god, that you heard some footsteps. You turned around to check if someone is in, but you didn\t see anything. You thought it was your imagination, because you were still sleepy.

 But suddenly you felt light touch on your shoulder and you were ready to fight, but when you turned around you saw San.

“I told you I come back. You can’t get rid of me that fast.”

“Oh my god, San. Damn, you are here.”

 You two kissed like you have never seen each other and like it was your first time. You could feel longing between you two.

“I miss you y/n. You can’t even imagine.”

“All what’s matter is that you are here with me.”

“I will always be there honey.”

[juicycherry99]

haiii! :) can i request a fic or a blurb with san, a sir kink, and anything to do with pee? 😳 i will literally take anything, any idea you have 🤭

Hii hun! Of course! I hope you’ll like it! It’s the first fanfic I’m writing since a while ago so I hope it’s gonna be okay🥲 Sorry if there’s any mistakes! Enjoy!🤍

[woogurl]

How much you wanna bet that Wooyoung reads SanxReader fics?

why can i see this? 

[woossexyponytail]

ATEEZ Masterlist...

Text.

Valentine’s day (Bf ateez fake text)

Christmas date (Bf ateez insta fake)

New teaser video (fake group chat)

Series.

Forever Alone (Mlist)

Splintered Heart Coming soon.

The Long Journey To Utopia (Mlist)

Shadow Born (Mlist)

Confront series Coming soon 

Breaking Instinct (Seonghwaxreader)

Confront series Coming soon

Triwizard Champion (Yunhoxreader)

Confront series Coming soon

Best friend Yeosang (Part1, Part2, Part3) coming soon

Confront series Coming soon

Friends to lovers (Sanxreader)

You belong to us (WooSanxreader)

The Best Quiddich player (Sanxreader)

Baby girl request (Sanxreader)

Confront series Coming soon

Forbidden Forest (Mingixreader)

Confront series Coming soon

Confront series (Wooyoung)

The Art of Duelling (Wooyoungxreader)

You belong to us (WooSanxreader)

Ain’t my fault (Wooyoungxreader)

Birthday smut (Wooyoungxreader)

Confront series Coming soon