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maybe, love again? — han jisung.

✰ pairing : ex!han x fem!reader (she/her pronouns).

✰ genre : a bit of angst, fluff, idiots to lovers, exes to lovers, semi-college au.

✰ warnings : profanity, not proofread, lmk if i missed one.

✰ word count : 2.2k

disclaimer !!　this is derived from an old drabble from 2021 which i posted ( now deleted ) on my instagram inspired by the song “love song” by dept and now it came to my mind so brought this one back to life. i still hope you’ll like it @hanjsquokka ily 𖹭 — special mention to han’s song, maybe. （ read this first before proceeding. ）

“Stupid radio! You’re fucking useless!” Jisung grumbled upon switching the radio channel frequency for the nth time in the last twenty minutes. 

Yes, the twenty minutes he just wasted. All of them played love songs that he grew tired of hearing. It made him feel sick in the stomach, like an expired food; he didn’t notice the date when he ate it. Fair enough, it is already six months after he went to that godforsaken beach to reminisce about your breakup. It would be lying if he said he was doing well the moment you were gone. No, he wasn’t. It was irrational and immature of you to leave each other hanging like that. 

For six months, Jisung tried to pour his soul into writing songs, no matter the genre. He went on with his usual routine, minus what he did when he was still with you. Given the fact that his schedule became a little less busy, he also felt lonely despite being around his friends most of the time. He got used to your presence, the silly dates, the arcade visits, the sleepovers, and the random things you did. It was hard to forget. 

What was the reason for your break-up? Misunderstandings had occurred—unreasonable and immature arguments that you were both too young to commit and comprehend the true meaning of love. There was tons of bullshit to begin with, anyway. He didn’t understand, even though he already apologized and tried to fix it, and yet, the broken pieces weren’t glued back as planned. You turned your back on him that night, and so he decided to stop pursuing you. Either way, you regret what happened. 

Jisung sat down on the floor as his back leaned to the seat of his couch, hugging his knees as the rain poured outside his shared apartment with Minho. The latter was nowhere to be found, so he was alone, annoyed, and irritated with that fucking radio that the older one bought after they both moved in a month ago. He exhaled heavily as his head rested on the soft foam, looking out the window as the raindrops kept on tapping the glass. It is safe to say that he missed you all of a sudden; you couldn’t blame him. 

He is sane, or maybe he isn’t. The radio kept playing a song after he gave up switching channels from here and there. His hand reached into his pocket to pull out his phone and tap his fingers through the messages. He went to your chat and found the last message he sent after the breakup happened. You didn’t reply and left him on seen. The sudden memories of you two together played in his mind—the fun, the cries, and those foolish moments—and once again, he misses you. He misses you so much that even though he tried to forget a whole year with you, it didn’t work that easily. He pretended he was fine and put a smile on his face. “It’s not a sin to fall in love.” “It’s not wrong to break-up because you were too young.” “Don’t lie to me. I know you.” Fuck you, Minho. 

Jisung sighed heavily as he went to write something. He was hesitating, he didn’t know what to say. He kept writing and then tapping the X mark at the right corner of the keyboard to delete letters. 

“I… miss… you… Can… we… meet?” Jisung typed as he read. “Sounds like I was the jerk here.” He groaned and tossed his phone on the carpeted floor, unknowingly hitting the send button. 

Minho found him on the floor, his wrists covering his eyes. Jisung didn’t even notice; he just came home with food inside his shopping bag. The older one smirked at the sight of his roommate and glanced at the open screen of his phone. He is not the type to be nosy, but reading the text and how you left in on seen again made him kick Jisung’s legs. 

“Ya,” Minho called. “If you miss Y/N, at least do it properly,” he said as Jisung sighed again, his arms collapsing to his sides, confused about how this cat knew about his dilemma. 

“I didn’t do anything.” Jisung defended as Minho smirked in response. 

“You sent her a text saying “I miss you. Can we meet?” What are you on, Han? ”Upon saying that, Jisung immediately jumped out of his seating position and grabbed his phone from the floor. It was too late to unsend it; you’ve already seen it. His eyes widened at the sight of it, and he panicked. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck!” He grumbled as he walked around in circles as Minho watched his misfortune while grabbing his own hair. 

“Calm down, as if she’s going to freak out upon reading it,” Minho said, rolling his eyes. 

You were indeed freaking out. 

To you, it was just another day at school, as the professor dismissed you a little late and you got caught up in the rain. It wasn’t that heavy, yet you stayed by the bus stop for shelter. You didn’t feel like going home yet, despite the time being late. Hyunjin, your roommate won’t be home until midnight anyway, so you’d be left alone if you went now. A sigh escaped your lips as you sat on the empty bench, watching the cars pass by while hugging your bag close to your chest. It is a tiring day with a full schedule, and running from one building to another is a whole different story. You should get used to it after years in university, but here you are, depressed and alone. Not until you read Jisung’s text. 

A long gasp was heard as you stared in disbelief and shock at your screen. Six months have passed, and your heart is still beating faster when you see his name. There’s a reason why the university’s morning broadcast system played the song Jisung wrote as a commercial for announcements two weeks after you broke up, 13. It was the fucking date of your breakup, and you had to ask Seungmin for a copy of that song, which he judged you for after breaking his friend’s heart. You know you were foolish; there’s no need to remind you about it. 

The excuses were “too young and immature” and “different taste and perspective” when you can both sit down and talk. You turned your back on him that night and regretted it later. He tried to fix it, yet it was only making it harder for you. You indeed had issues with yourself back then, and you didn’t want him to become a mess because of you. The embarrassment you felt, the regret—you didn’t even bother to see him anymore, and you knew it hurt Jisung a lot. 

You didn’t reach out to him days after you received the text and tried to think about what to say. Hyunjin had to massage his forehead upon hearing about the situation. He’s very close friends with Jisung, and rooming with his ex is not on his death wish list. He wanted you two to have some closure and talk about what happened. 

“He wasn’t doing well. You broke his heart when he wanted to fix what was going on. Maybe you should finally talk to him to get over this bullshit, and don’t get me wrong, Y/N, I love you, but I love Jisung more, so do what’s right. Talk to him; it’s been six months,” Hyunjin said. “And a week has passed since he texted you. I’m sure that wasn’t accidental.” 

And so you did. 

Later that night, after your last class, you replied to meet him outside the gates of the school and waited for him. The autumn season is filled with rainy days. That’s why you stood by the gates with an umbrella above your head as you waited for Jisung to come. You weren’t expecting anything at that very moment, and you thought it'd be okay if he didn’t show up. After all, he didn’t reply to your text, and it has been a week since you’ve read his. It was indeed a spontaneous night for him, and it was abrupt of you to make a decision. 

Hyunjin just said a couple of sentences for advice, and now you took it so foolishly. Jisung wondered why you hadn’t given him a response and just let him leave on read during the past few days. He thought you’d already moved on and were seeing another person. He couldn’t brush it off of his mind; even Minho was concerned about the way he behaved. It was worse than suffering from your breakup, and it is indeed another set of the infamous five stages of grief. Jisung is still bargaining. 

He wasn’t the type to enjoy drinking, but because of you, he did, and he passed out after a minimum of two glasses of an alcoholic drink. Minho could only sigh in response to his friend’s low tolerance back then, but now he’s acting like crazy. He ran outside from their shared apartment after receiving your text agreeing to meet up. He was on the phone 24/7, hoping you’d drop a message, and there he was. 

“Bring an umbrella, you fool! ” Minho shouted at him, but Jisung was too busy to come back. 

He wouldn’t deny that he’s over the moon and excited that he’s finally meeting you after months. It was a good thing that his apartment was only two blocks away from the school; he managed to get there on time. He didn’t care about the splashes of dirty water on his sweatpants from the puddles he ran into or the rain soaking his hair and damping his t-shirt; all he wanted was to see you. And there you stood near a lamp post, your phone in your hand, scrolling the top screen to refresh the messages, wondering if he ever replied, as the other hand was holding the handle of the navy blue umbrella you borrowed from Hyunjin.

Jisung stopped two meters away from where you were standing because you were busy on your phone. He stood there like a man in a movie while staring at you, falling in love once more despite how you broke his heart months ago. It’s foolish. “Hey, Sung. I know it has been a week. I hope you’re still up to meet me. There are things I want to explain and apologize for after what happened to us. It’s no excuse for me to turn my back when I said that we were both too immature to understand what love is. I only realized how stupid I was when I heard that you weren’t doing well from your friends. I know we had arguments, misunderstandings, and such, but I was just insecure about myself and stressed out. I shouldn’t have let it affect our relationship, knowing that you meant well and tried to fix us. I was the one who cut it off, but I also want to let you know that I loved you. I’ll wait for you outside the gates of the university tonight, and it’s fine if you won’t. I would really want to meet you too, Sung.” After receiving that message, do you think Jisung would turn around to Minho to get that stupid umbrella? No, he won’t. 

“Y/N,” he called. 

You immediately turned to face his direction as your heart started to beat faster. It was his smile that captured your heart again, and all the worries faded like water evaporating into the sky. Jisung didn’t hesitate to come over and take you into his arms, hugging you tight. You cried as you buried your face in his chest, apologizing countless times for how bad you were as a partner while his hand caressed your back gently, trying to stop you from saying nonsense and reassuring you that everything was all good now that you were finally seeing him. 

“Don’t cry, don’t cry,” he said as he pulled away and dried your tears. “It’s alright, I’m here now, okay? You did nothing wrong. 

“I’m sorry.” You sniffed as he kissed the tip of your nose. 

“No.” He reassured you and hugged you again, but you didn’t listen. “If you’re really sorry, then you have to do something for me.” 

“What is it? ”You asked him. 

“There’s no need to explain why; you don’t need to say sorry anymore. I know that the breakup was sudden and we had a lot of issues to talk about, but we can fix it later, okay? ”He said, cupping your cheeks as he smiled at you. “Maybe we can love again to fix that? ”You looked at him with those teary eyes, ready to bawl your eyes out and whimper, but that doesn’t mean you’d say no to that. Of course, you did say yes. “You won’t regret it this time, love,” he said while kissing your forehead. 

“Thanks for taking me back, Sung.” 

Breaking up in spring felt like flowers wilting in autumn, but getting back in autumn felt like flowers blooming once again in spring after the harsh winter. 

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cops and robbers — kim seungmin

trope: kim seungmin x reader | strangers-to-lovers ; use of profanity ; mentions of a one night stand once ; he’s a fuckboy basically summary: fuckboy kim seungmin takes interest in the quiet, photography major who lives just across his dorm. wc: 3.8k words

The first time Kim Seungmin sees you, you have a camera strapped around your neck.

You’re just across his dorm room, hands fiddling on the buttons of your DSLR and eyes shifting where you can get your eyes on, looking.

Probably for something that can be added to your portfolio, he thinks. Not that he cares.

It isn’t all that hard to spot him either. Seungmin is easy to find, with a cigarette lit between his fingers and the smell of smoke vexing your senses. His entire body is leant on the wall, eyebrow slit and all to truly sell the fuckboy character.

You lock eyes when you finally find the source of smoke, and you think for a second to tell him to stop. It’s not what you do. Instead, you shift your attention.

It’s never a good idea to be within distance of boys like him anyway. There are other things to think about, things much more important. Like what you’ll have for dinner, the old pair of shoes you need to replace, your final portfolio.

Sighing, you look down at your camera.

You hope the low ISO 200 can capture whatever the fuck you want to take a photo of tonight—long shutter speeds, white balance on auto, manual mode. You’d be fucked if you didn’t have these settings memorized.

Different for day. Different for night. It’s a hassle, but it’s a hassle you keep up with if you want to graduate.

“You know, it isn’t safe for pretty girls like you to be out this late.”

Raspy. It comes from just behind you, and you have half a mind to turn to face the threat when you’re greeted face to face with a smirking Kim Seungmin. He sounds kitschy, looks kitchsy and it seems like he knows it as well.

You roll your eyes. “I think I’ll be fine.”

He stares at you for a minute.

“Whatever you say, princess.” The bass of his voice is a little terrifying, but not enough for you to shuffle away.

He would’ve been more if you weren’t hellbent on the idea of finishing your portfolio for the semester. Nothing scares you more than a failing class.

Not even Seungmin.

He doesn’t seem to mind your lack of chalant. He doesn’t really care. The boy has never been the type to stick his nose in other people’s business, talking to others only when necessary. Being annoyingly chatty was reserved for his friends.

In hindsight, starting a conversation with you should’ve been the first outlier he noticed on his sudden shift of behavior. But he doesn’t. Instead, he shrugs his shoulders and separates himself from you.

He was only out for a smoke anyway.

+

The next time he sees you is after his one-night-stand-gone-wrong.

It’s still at night, just a week later. And you look exactly like the way you were, camera in your hand and an unbothered look on your face.

Though, when you hear footsteps echoing from just a short distance and spot a speeding figure coming from his room, your face twists in disdain.

You were only out to practice a certain exposure you want to perfect. Not to bear witness to whatever the fuck happens in Seungmin’s dorms.

When he locks eyes with you for the second time that week, you pretend not to notice anything.

“You again?”

He’s shameless. A bit of his overgrown sideburns are sticking to his skin, shirt lazily thrown on, and sweat still glistening on his forehead. You don’t want to think of the connotations of what your observations could possibly mean.

You simply look at him, the way his face morphs in recognition and the way his neck cranes just a little. He looks like he’s in his element, sweat and fucked-out eyes and furrowed eyebrows.

You’re the exact opposite, picking at the buttons of your camera with sleep-riddled eyes and air struck hair.

Sighing, you push yourself off your unflattering position on the ground, brushing off the rubble that might’ve stuck on your pants from sitting there for so long.

You slip back into your dorm room without uttering a single response to the boy.

+

He sees you everywhere after that.

And truthfully, it was starting to get annoying. Especially when the boys started catching on to his staring.

While Changbin was narrating stories of nights Seungmin couldn’t care for the details of, he finds himself scanning the student hall.

He thinks he doesn’t know the reason why, or at least not until he finds you eating with some other girl.

Your eyes are intently glued to the screen of your camera. He wonders what photos could litter the memory of your SD card.

Before he can even shift his attention back to whatever the fuck was happening back with his friends, he’s caught red-handed. Shit-eating grins surround the table, a few howls here and there, and shoves that Seungmin could've gone without.

“Is she your next target, Seungmin?”

He wants to vomit at the word choice.

“Target?” He scoffs. You weren’t a target. “She isn’t even my type.”

Kim Seungmin brushes off their noise, canceling out the ill-intentions they’ve made up for him. He just sits there, unperturbed by everything until his friends finish eating.

He looks at you one last time before leaving. It’s hard not to.

It doesn’t save him from further teasing.

+

“You’re a photography major?”

You’re caught off guard by the sudden voice behind you.

It seems Seungmin has made a habit of surprising you when you least expect to see him.

“...I am.”

You finally reply after letting the question hang in the air for a few seconds longer than necessary. He doesn’t care, only cares that you responded to him.

“You don’t talk much, do you?”

Is he only capable of asking you questions?

“We’re not friends.” You deadpan. His lips pull into a smile.

“I’m just curious why you have a camera with you all the time. Loosen up.”

He doesn’t say anything after that, just lets the silence hang there. He knows he can tick you off even more, but he doesn’t find himself wanting to. He simply walks back to the dorms with you.

When he walks too fast, he stalls—for just enough time for you to catch up with him.

You fail to notice the way he shifts his position, always standing by the busy side of the road.

+

“Are you smoking again?”

It’s the first time you initiate conversation, and he snaps out of the trance he’d been in. He was outside again, similar to when he’d first met you. And you were still you, with your camera, and the way you lift it to fit your eye through the viewfinder.

“Why? Are you starting to care about me, princess?” There’s that same smirk evident, and it seems he took your question as invitation to stand next to where you are.

You want to stomp on his face.

“‘M just asking. I really couldn’t care less.”

You can smell the smoke off of him, warranting you to take a full step away. You’ve always hated its scent, and the second-hand smoke exposure.

In turn, Seungmin runs a hand through his hair. It’s shorter, looks like he got it trimmed recently. When you put your camera away in favor of leaving the site of crime, the boy attempts to stop you.

“Leaving already?”

“It isn’t exactly part of my tuition fee to talk to people like you.”

You sound harsh, and it’s an odd feeling to suddenly feel offended about a simple phrase he’s heard multiple times before.

People like you.

What the hell was that even supposed to mean?

“Spare me a few more minutes, angel.”

You don’t bother arguing any further. Besides, you still needed a few more practice photos of where you were looking. You lift your camera back up to peek through its viewfinder, and you can only hope the noise of your photos is enough to drown him out.

“What are you doing out here so late, anyway? Didn’t I tell you it wasn’t safe?”

“I also remember telling you I’ll be fine.” You grumble, snapping a shot. He moves closer to you when you open your mouth to continue talking. “Practicing helps ease the feeling of dread, like I’d be less likely to fail if I did.”

Seungmin notices the calluses on your hands, rough with hard work, and then his eyes trail to your side profile. The light exposure from the moon makes you look prettier than you already do.

Wait, what?

The boy has never stared at someone’s hands and drawn a conclusion before, never taken the time to admire and talk to someone he wasn’t planning on screwing over either.

There’s a first for everything.

“Smoking helps.”

You snort at his sudden comment. Too much time has passed by for him to suddenly butt back into the conversation. The timing makes you laugh a little.

His heart races at the sound.

“Are there thoughts when you feel dread?” He asks, albeit a little silent, in case you didn’t want to talk about it.

You contemplate whether you should talk about it. It’s an unlikely conversation to have with an unlikely person like Kim Seungmin.

Against your better judgement, you answer.

“I don’t know. It just feels like… it feels like my heart is palpitating. I feel scared for some reason. I guess I just really don’t want to fail. Does that make sense?”

“Yeah. It does.”

“You also feel dread?” You ask.

He hums in response. “All the time. Sometimes I’m not sure if the decisions I’m making are the right ones.”

It makes him sound so human to be able to empathize. You hate to admit you’re surprised.

“Just do what feels right in your heart.”

“How am I supposed to know?”

“You’ll know.” You mumble.

The few minutes you’ve spared him has run out. “Goodbye now, Seungmin.”

“You know who I am?”

“Everybody knows who you are. You and your friends.” You wave him off, finally shutting off your camera and putting the lens hood back. “Bye.”

You’re dismissive, and it’s something that would usually annoy Seungmin because he’s the dismissive one in his friend group.

The sudden challenge should anger him, but it doesn’t. What is it about you, and your playing hard to get, and your dismissiveness that has his attention so much?

He’s usually the one being chased, never chasing.

He’s usually the one being told things, never initiating. Never telling.

You’ve definitely done something to him, but he doesn’t want to think about it.

He really doesn’t want to think about it.

+

It happened without warning.

You only remember how angry Seungmin was. Everything else was a little blurry.

You don’t even know who threw the first punch. Shapes and shadows just seemed to move around you until a fight broke out.

The victim was from the Engineering department, though you don’t find the word victim befitting for someone like him. You don’t even know his name, just that he has a history for picking on people.

And it seemed today, you had fallen prey. You guess it just wasn’t your lucky day.

Though, if you think of the situation in whole, he definitely had worse luck than you.

Seungmin was locked and loaded behind gritted teeth and white knuckles when he threw a punch. And he was unforgiving with his hits.

“Seungmin, stop it.” Your voice comes out in a desperate plea, and as if a switch, he pulls himself off of the nameless Engineering boy.

“Fucking asshole.” Seungmin spits at him.

He surprises you with how cold he can speak. While you’ve always known that boys like him were a little more asshole-coded, you didn’t think he had it in his moral compass to defend you after having only shared not more than four conversations.

“Why would you do that? Seungmin, what the hell?”

You’re exasperated as you peel him away from the crime scene. He’d suffered a few blows you’re sure would bruise later, and his knuckles were bloody from his displays of violence earlier.

He’s speed walking ahead of you, doesn’t think he can look at you.

“Why didn’t you stand up for yourself? He had your camera.” His voice was significantly louder than it had been during your earlier conversations. You think it might be the first time he’s raised his voice at you.

His features, however, deeply contrast with the upset dripping from his voice. His face softens ridiculously fast when he turns back to look at you. And while his intentions send a soft nudge on your heart, you’re still upset at the predicament he’d willingly and intentionally put himself into.

“I didn’t need you to start a fight.” You sigh, tugging him by his arm after he’d stopped walking to direct his line of sight at you.

You continue the fleet-footed walk back to your dorm, dragging him with you.

“A thank you would be appreciated.” He grumbles from behind you, but makes no move to free his arm from your grip. Seungmin simply lets you drag him away.

“Stay there.” You sit him down just in front of your door before slipping into your little room. It takes no longer than two minutes before you’re back outside.

He’s still right where you left him. The only difference is he’s looking at you as if he’d been waiting for you to come out.

You make a move to crouch next to him.

There’s a first aid kit sitting between the two of you, a tub of water, among other things.

“How could you be so reckless?” You offer no warning when you take his hands, soaking them under the water and carefully washing the site of injury.

When you’re sure it’s clean, you turn to look at him. “You barely even know me, and you’re getting into fights.”

You’re clearly stressed, packing ice into a thin cloth while lecturing him under one breath. He doesn’t argue with you. Instead, he hyper fixates on the way you hold his hand—resting it on your thigh, applying light pressure on his bruise.

Your hand is warm, almost too warm against his. And he notices the same callouses he did that night you caught him smoking again. Yours with hard work, his with stubborn lament.

The action makes his face flush an embarrassing color. You don’t seem to notice. You’re too preoccupied being upset to even look him in the face.

“You better not do this again.”

In truth, Seungmin had probably suffered much worse than bruised knuckles. This, in comparison to all the previous fights he’d gotten himself into, was nothing. But it feels more significant than the rest.

His heart folds at how you’re taking care of him.

It was a curiously intimate thing for you to attempt to reduce the swelling with your makeshift cold compress. There’s an unidentifiable feeling in his heart he still doesn’t want to think about, but he knows there’s a subtle change in the air that he needs to address.

“He could’ve smashed years of your hard work.” He suddenly breaks the silence.

It triggers you to glance up, and you lock eyes with Seungmin once more. It looks like he’s rethinking whether he should continue talking.

Against his better judgment, he does. “He had your camera, and all I could think about was how devastated you would feel if he’d broken it.”

You blink a couple of times at his sudden confession. Moreso because he’d been observant enough to know the significance of that single piece of item. And maybe because he was looking at you a certain way.

He does that sometimes.

You don’t really know what to say to him, so you shift your focus back on his wounds. And when you’re sure there wasn’t any more damage, you let him go. “I’m done. You can go.”

A silence falls between you both before the boy climbs back on his feet while holding the cold compress you’d handed him. He takes a few tentative steps away.

“And Seungmin?”

He suddenly turns back at the interjection of your voice, looking at you with that same look from earlier, like you should know he’d do it again for you. It’s almost fond. And Seungmin hovers there, waiting.

You take the brief moment where his attention is on you to finally say the words that’d been brewing in your throat.

“Thank you.”

You’re trying so hard to keep your voice monotone. He’s trying so hard not to smile.

+

Seungmin’s been in front of you for almost ten minutes now.

It’d been almost a week since he’d gotten into a fight, and he has the gall to suddenly appear in front of you. In the student center during dinner, of all places.

“Hi.” It’s his fourth time uttering those words now, but it seems your attention is still on whatever the fuck poison they were serving for dinner.

“Talk to me. Hi.” He persists.

(“He likes her, for sure.” Hyunjin laughs from a few tables away.

There’s amusement in Chan’s eyes.

“Yeah, he definitely does.” The eldest smiles to himself.)

His attempts are fruitless. You are still drinking your soup, and he is still vying for your attention.

“You’re ignoring me.” Seungmin pouts. He actually pouts. “Are you still upset I started a fight?”

You don’t respond. If you were honest with yourself, you don’t know why you’re ignoring him either. Was it because you’d felt the slightest nudge in your feelings the last time you saw each other?

“Pretty girl.”

You stall before asking. “How’s your knuckles?”

He smiles. “Better. Will you stop ignoring me now?”

“I wasn’t ignoring you.”

“If you want me to apologize, I won’t. I don’t feel regret for doing what I did. I’d rather his face smashed than your camera.”

There’s that nudge again. You didn’t want him to apologize either. A few days of mulling it over and the news of quiet in the Engineering department since his fight with Seungmin tells you enough that the benefits had outweighed the risks.

No more stories of students being taunted for doing absolutely nothing.

The boy in front of you clears his throat, trying to get your attention. “But, I’m willing to do anything else for you to stop ignoring me, or apologize for anything else.”

An idea flashes in your head.

“I know how you can make it up to me.” You say in lieu of a real response.

+

When you’d asked him for a favor, he’d gotten a little excited.

He’d thought it was somewhere along the lines of a date, like that crap he sees in movies. He didn’t think he’d have to model for a few shots in your portfolio.

“New piercing?” You ask, gesturing at your own lips to try and mirror the spot he’d gotten it. It’s silver and shiny, and definitely adds to the fuckboy appeal.

You shudder, you know your own parents would never agree to you doing the same.

“Like it?” Seungmin has the audacity to smirk, flaunting the silver on his lower lip. You simply roll your eyes.

(Though, the few seconds you spare to stare at it is enough judgment for him.

You lift your camera back up. “Alright. Just do whatever for now. Actually, maybe a hand in your pocket—yeah. That’s perfect.”

He does whatever the hell he can think of. And while most would’ve been embarrassed by now, he couldn’t find it in himself to care. If it meant you’d stop ignoring him, he’d do this a million times over.

“Stay in that position.”

“Hmm, I like it when you’re being bossy.”

“Shut up.” You snap a shot, looking at the screen of your camera and smiling in contentment. You don’t give him the time to rest before you’re lifting it back up to eye-level.

And it goes on like that for a while. You use him to study lighting, and angles, and shadows, and forms.

Though, it’s a little difficult when he looks so damn attractive in everything. You might have a biased model. You’re afraid if you were to shoot him in shitty lighting, it would still turn out good.

“Alright.” You switch off your camera after flicking through the numerous shots you’d taken. “I think I’m done.”

“So, you’ll stop ignoring me now?”

He looks at you with everything so potently him when he’s with you.

“Uhuh.” You hum, letting your DSLR drop around your neck. He smiles victoriously.

None of you turn to leave.

You lament in the night air just a little longer, and Seungmin spends the time staring at you.

You suddenly turn to him. His gaze is a little too invasive not to notice. “What?”

“Just thinking.”

“About?”

“You.” There’s something about the way he says it that makes you look away. You could swear you saw a tint of red on the tip of his ears.

“Among other girls, I presume.”

He exhales. “No. Just you.”

“Resident fuckboy Kim Seungmin thinking about just one girl?”

“Fuck you.” Though, there’s no spit in the way he says it. His heart warms at the thought of you feeling comfortable enough to joke around with him now, despite you still coining him a fuckboy. He supposes that one’s on him for years of tainted reputation.

Your half laugh at being cursed echoes in his mind, lingering more there than in the air.

“You’re acting strange tonight, Seungmin.”

“You make me act strange.” His voice softens even though he’s essentially putting the blame on you for the way he was acting. And he says it in a way that makes you think he’s waiting for you to say something, or to at least understand the intentions behind his words.

You don’t know how to respond though. He sounds a little too serious to just merely be fucking around with you, like you’ve heard he does.

“The boys are saying I’m getting soft.” Seungmin doesn’t sound like he’s waiting for your response, so you let him continue talking. “Ever since that first night I met you. What the fuck did you do to me?”

He meets your eyes.

“Will you say something?”

You attempt to flat out your nerves at how he’s baring himself vulnerable in front of you all of a sudden. You would be lying if you said you hadn’t grown fond of the boy after his multiple attempts at getting your attention, but you’d also be lying if you said you didn’t think it was just another one of his ploys to get into your pants.

“How do I know you’re not lying?”

“I’m acting like a damn puppy following you around everywhere. And I let you boss me around for pictures when I could be drinking with my friends right now.” He’s still eye-to-eye with you, and it’s scary the way honestly spills from his.

“Then go drink with your friends then. ‘M not forcing you to be here.”

You’re so fucking stubborn, and he tries to search for your eyes but you aren’t looking at him anymore. Yours are downcast somewhere, on the ground, on anywhere but his eyes.

“Look at me.” You don’t know why, but you instantly do. Maybe it was in the way he said it, almost desperate. “I don’t want to drink with my friends. I want to be here with you. Because I like you.”

You crack a slow smile at his words, and at the way he’s stripped himself in genuine softness in front of you. It wasn’t everyday you’d see Kim Seungmin like this.

“So don’t think I’d lie to you about that.” He’s pouting again, and you tease him for it.

You get on your toes, get a good look on his face and the pout that adorns it. “Are you upset I thought you were lying?”

“Fuck off. I’m just—” He can’t help but laugh, pushing you away from him lest he wants to suffer the consequences of kissing you without your permission. He wants you to like him back, and if he has to do it slowly, so be it.

“Just give me a chance.” Almost pleading.

You press your tongue against the inside of your cheek. “Okay.”

“I understand if you—” He suddenly pauses. “Okay?”

“Okay.”

He stares at your lips, at the way it forms around the word, and he’s puzzled at how hot his face feels because he’s never been flustered like this. And he thinks his cheeks will start to burn if he doesn’t stop smiling. But he just can’t bring himself to stop, not when you’ve willingly given him a chance.

On your own autonomy.

“You won’t regret it.”

You don’t think you will.

8 letters is all it takes and I'm gonna let you know ♪

CASE 143 ♡ SHOW! MUSIC CORE IN JAPAN

EIGHT — chan u beautiful genius‼️

a/n — hey guys I hope everyone is doing well!! I’m lowkey thinking abt changing the update schedule from every day to every other day 🤨 I’m not really sure yet so if u have any opinions abt this let me know!! bye 💕💕

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REBLOG IF YOUR BLOG IS A SAFE SPACE!!!!

pic made by me on canva

❀ Birds of a Feather ❀

≻───── ⋆✩⋆ ─────≺

pairing: bangchan x reader

word count: 1.6k genre: FLUFF

It started as a silly crush, one that you would normally get around a friend of yours. A little pang in your chest at the thought of him. A flutter of your stomach when he smiled at you, that sort of thing that friends normally never acted on. But for some reason, your friendship with Chan, who had become your best friend, felt different.

It started with small things, things that you would dismiss as nothing. You would catch him looking at you sometimes when he thought you wouldn't notice, but when you would look his way, he would quickly look away. He would also always sit next to you in interviews, in group photos, or in any sort of activity, always taking a seat right next to yours whenever given the choice. He would also always want to play with your hair, pulling you into his lap and letting his fingers run through your hair while whispering praise and sweet words into your ear. 

And that would be something a typical friend would never do. In fact, no one else in the group treated you like that, so why was he so different? The strangest thing was that even though he would always be affectionate with you in front of others, in private the way he acted was completely different. Instead of playing with your hair affectionately, he was constantly finding opportunities to touch your skin, running his fingers along your hands, arms, and face, as if he couldn’t get enough of you.

In the most private moments when no one else was around, he would constantly find ways to hold your hands. His fingers would intertwine with yours as he pulled you close. He would also sometimes find ways to pull you into his lap, wrapping his arms around your torso as he held you firmly against his chest, his hands splayed against your stomach and chest, holding you like he never wanted to let go. It was so strange, how one minute he was normal, the next he was being so affectionate in a way that could not be seen as merely platonic. It was like he couldn't get enough of touching you, as if he was addicted. Even in public he would always be seeking any type of contact, whether it was a squeeze of your hands, a hand on your back, or just sitting next to you, he always wanted some type of contact. It was almost as if he was starved for the touch. And the strangest thing of all was that none of the other members of the group seemed to question it or care, they all acted as if it was normal. Did they just not notice, or was it truly normal for friends to act like this? 

Even you yourself were starting to wonder if it was just how he acted with everyone, but no other member behaved like he did, and definitely didn’t touch you like he did. Whatever the case, you found yourself not minding the affectionate gestures. In fact, deep down, you even found yourself looking forward to them. You found yourself wanting him even more when he touched you. 

It made you feel butterflies in your stomach whenever he held you close, the heat of his body against yours making something deep within you stir. Finally, after days of contemplating, you two were hanging out together in your room in the dorm and then you gained the courage and decided to confront him. As the both of you were sitting in a quiet corner of his room, you turned to him, a determined look in your eyes.

"Channie, can I ask you something?"

He looked up from his phone at the sound of your voice, a curious expression on his face. "Yeah, what is it?" You took a deep breath, gathering your courage. "This is going to sound random, but why are you always so... affectionate towards me?"

He was silent for a moment, his expression unreadable. But finally, he let out a soft sigh. "Ah, I guess you've noticed."You were taken aback by his response, not expecting him to admit it outright. But at the same time, you couldn't ignore the way your heart fluttered at his words. "No, it's not a problem, I just... well, I'm just wondering why. Friends don't usually act like this, you know."He then let out a soft chuckle, setting down his phone and turning to face you fully. "I guess I just can't help it. You're just... really touchable, I guess. And it makes me feel good, touching you like this." 

He leaned back, stretching his legs out in front of him. "Plus, you never complain about it, so I figured you didn't mind me being all over you." You blush like your about to explode.

“No no! it’s not that i just really want to know why..” Chan chuckled as he saw your blush, a hint of a smirk on his lips. "Why are you so curious about it, huh?"

He shifted a bit closer to you on the bed, his knee brushing against yours. "Are you worried I'm being too clingy?" You get shocked by his words “no! i don’t mind it at all, i just wanna know if you know.. if you have feelings for me.. that’s all.” Chan's smirk faded into a look of surprise, not expecting you to boldly come out and ask such a thing. 

He was silent for a moment, his eyes searching yours as if trying to find the answer within them. Finally, he spoke, his voice soft. "What if I did? What would you do if I did have feelings for you?" You were caught by surprise by his response. “To be honest, i really don’t know i really don’t wanna ruin our friendship that we have, and it’s gonna be so hard gaining that friendship and trust back if something does happen to us.” you became so worried and started to make your anxiety build up and make you think about what would happen between them. Chan listened intently to your words, his expression softening. He reached out and placed a gentle hand on your arm. "Hey, hey, it's okay."

He took your hand, intertwining his fingers with yours. "I get it, I really do. We've been through so much together, our friendship means so much to me too. But..."

He paused, letting out a small sigh. "But sometimes, feelings can't be helped. You can't ignore them, or push them away. They just... happen." He looked down at your intertwined hands, his thumb gently running over your knuckles. "And if we do have feelings for each other, I don't think that's a bad thing. Sure, it might change things between us, but change isn't always bad, y'know? It's not always good either, but..."

He looked back up at you, his gaze sincere. "I think there's a chance it could be good. If you feel the same way, that is." She looks up, her eyes wide and sparkling. 

 from looking down at their hands being intertwined with each other’s. “Wait, so your saying that we could have a chance with each other?” Chan nods, his hand gently squeezing your own. "Yeah, that's what I'm saying."

He shifts a little closer to you, his knee pressed against yours. "If we both have feelings for each other, then yeah, we could have a chance at being together. It's up to you though, if you want to give it a shot or not." You then decide to tackle him onto your bed and hug him, so in joy that he decides to give a chance for y’all’s relationship. Chan let out a small yelp of surprise as you tackled him onto the bed, his arms instinctively wrapping around you as you hugged him tightly. He chuckled, a mix of surprise and amusement in his voice. "Impatient much?"

He returned the embrace, holding you close against him, his face buried into your shoulder. Then you decided to take the first move, suddenly you kissed him softly. Chan's surprise was evident at your sudden kiss, but he quickly melted into the feeling. His arms wrapped tighter around you, pulling you even closer as he kissed back. His lips moved gently against yours, his hand coming up to cup your cheek.

He broke the kiss, resting his forehead against yours, his breathing a bit heavier than before. "Wow...I didn't expect you to take the first move like that." You then smile softly as you nuzzle yourself into his neck. “sorry! i really been wanting to do that for a while now..” You then chuckle all shy. Bangchan chuckled, his hands running up and down your back soothingly. “Don't apologize, I don't mind at all.” He pressed a kiss to the top of your head, his arms still holding you close. "You’ve been wanting to do that for a while, huh? I didn’t know you liked me that much." You didn’t wanna leave his arms, you wanted to stay put. “Maybe… but at least i hid it better than you..” You say in a small giggle still nuzzling in his neck taking in his sent. He chuckled again, his hands continuing to gently caress your back. “Hey, I didn't hide it that badly." He protested, a playful pout on his lips. "I was just being... affectionate. Is that a crime?" “Never said that it wasn’t channie..” You say as you plant your lips on his. Chan smiled into the kiss, his hand coming up to cup the back of your head as he returned it with equal fervor. He pulled you even closer, his body pressing against yours as he deepened the kiss. When he finally pulled away, he was a bit breathless, his eyes locked on yours. "You really are something, you know that?"

PLEASE REMEMBER TO REBLOG YOUR CREATORS!!

FOUR — still hoping for a wedding😁

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hell’s kitchen 🔥

minho — culinary student and the next gordon ramsey (self claimed). cooking is his passion he doesn’t play around. he’s a TOTAL SWEETHEART… once you get to know him ofc. to other people he comes off as serious and cold but with his friends he’s a big softie!! he loves taking care of them even though he acts like he doesn’t. he usually sings or dance on his free time. when it comes to cooking he likes doing things his way which makes him not the best partner.

hyunjin — art student. sucker for romance! loves cheesy rom-com movies and always gets his friends to watch them with him. they act like they hate it but they’re liars. he doesn’t really have a job but he sells some of his pieces to make money. people love his oil paintings. when he graduates he wants to be an art teacher. has serious cuteness aggression. he’s really nice to everyone he meets and very easy to talk to.

felix — culinary student #2. he just so happens to be benchmates with minho as well. they’ve been friends since high school. this man is the acts of service king! it’s his love language, especially baking for people. he loves baking for his friends. very sweet and kind to everyone he meets. he spends any free moment he has gaming. roblox addict.

jisung — singer songwriter and major music nerd. he loves making music and sharing it. he doesn’t really care about making it big. has a huge record collection and is always trying to add to it. works at plant co. full time to fund his record collection. very unserious person. loves to crack jokes in situations where jokes should not be cracked.

jeongin — cashier at a record shop. he actually met minho and his friends while he was on the clock. jisung was wreaking havoc in the store😭. out of all of them he’s the most normal. he’s introverted so he doesn’t really like talking to people but he’s very helpful and understanding. he’s also the main victim of hyunjin’s cuteness aggression. another music nerd. this boy will eat anything so minho and felix always go to him when they want to test out new recipes.

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© 2024 copyright. all rights reserved. @0x1lovebot.

farmer!reader x writer!hyunjin who is her secret admirer and he sent her letters? the farmer is new to the town, getting away from the cities and hyunjin is the last person she met after everyone in town since he's always in his cabin near the beach

kind of like the game, stardew valley!

𓏲 ๋࣭ ࣪ ˖ dear farmer,

wc: 4.4k

warnings: fluffy cuteness, confessions, literally not much to warn you on this is just rly cute, mailman chan, fisher jisung, farmer reader, author/writer hyunjin, hyunjin refers to reader as his muse, (LMK IF I MISSED ANY!)

a/n: THIS IS TOO CUTE OH MY GOODNESS GOODNIGHT. i was literally gushing writing this i hope i wrote it the way you were imagining. i love stardew valley so tysm for suggesting this!!!

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆

The small village you moved into was a far cry from the bustling city life you once knew. The quaint charm of the town, with its winding cobblestone streets and picturesque cottages, had drawn you in immediately. Seeking a fresh start and a simpler life, you had purchased an old farmhouse on the outskirts of town, eager to put down roots and cultivate your own land.

The townspeople had been incredibly welcoming, each of them eager to meet you. You quickly found yourself immersed in the community, sharing smiles and stories at the local market and lending a hand wherever you could. Despite the warm reception, there was one resident you had yet to meet.

You had heard whispers about him from the other villagers—an enigmatic writer who rarely left his cabin by the beach. The townsfolk spoke of his talent with a mix of admiration and curiosity, but none seemed to know much about him personally. It wasn't for lack of trying—the local mail carrier, Chan, had admitted defeat after only one attempt to reach out, grumbling something about a ferret with a temper.

A part of you had always wondered what his writing was like, and what kind of man would choose such isolation. Perhaps he was shy, or simply enjoyed being left to his own devices. There had to be a reason why the villagers hadn't tried to reach out to him again, and yet—

"Hyunjin isn't one for conversing," Chan insisted, taking the bundle of envelopes from his bag and sliding them into the mailbox outside your farmhouse. "You don't have to worry about him."

You glanced toward the direction of the beach, watching the sun dip down over the waves. Why did his isolation make him more interesting to you? You supposed you should be grateful for his lack of interaction; with the busy work on the farm and the number of people you already tried to help each day, you didn't have time for many social gatherings. Still...

"Well," you sighed, dusting off your hands and returning the empty milk bottles to the box on your porch, "thank you, Chan."

The mailman smiled, his dark eyes crinkling in the corners. "Any time."

Heading toward the field, you squared your shoulders, determined to focus on the day's tasks and push any thoughts of the mysterious writer aside. You still had some planting to do, after all, and a long walk ahead of you.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

A few days later, you woke with a yawn, stretching your limbs in your bed. Sunlight poured in through the windows, illuminating the small room. The warmth was pleasant, a sharp contrast from the chilled breeze outside. You couldn't help but smile, thankful that winter had yet to roll around. The transition to farming was a busy one, and the prospect of facing your first snowfall was more than a little intimidating.

Rising from the mattress, you threw on an old, oversized sweater, not bothering to change into your work clothes before making a quick cup of tea in your kitchen. It was an easy routine to settle into, the steamy brew doing wonders for your motivation in the mornings. Once your mug was half empty, you changed into a pair of old, paint-stained overalls and made your way outside.

"You have mail today." Chan greeted you with a warm smile, already standing in front of your mailbox. "I wasn't sure if I'd catch you or not. It's nice to see you awake so early."

"Yeah, yeah." You grinned, nudging him in the arm playfully. "What's the big delivery?"

"Just the usual." Chan shrugged, sliding a few envelopes from his bag and setting them down in the mailbox. "Some advertisements and invitations to parties."

You paused, peeking inside. It looked like the usual bundle of mail—some from fellow townspeople and some from local companies looking to get your attention. You hummed in thought, glancing over the usual assortment before a handwritten letter caught your attention.

It was written in simple script, the envelope adorned with a tiny blueberry stamp in the corner. It stood out against the other, more formal pieces of mail. The sight made you pause.

"Oh," you said, your curiosity piqued. "This one looks different."

"Huh?" Chan followed your line of sight, his eyes widening when he spotted the letter. "That's... oh. Oh."

You blinked. "What? Do you know who sent it?"

Chan fiddled with the strap of his bag. "I recognize that writing," he muttered, refusing to meet your gaze.

"Really?" You said, curiosity piqued.

He paused, glancing around your front porch. "You know, I'm a bit busy today. I should head off," he stuttered, already backing away. "Goodbye."

Before you could question his reaction any further, the mailman was already hurrying away down the path to the next house.

Furrowing your brow, you took a step back. Had you said something wrong? Maybe it wasn't a big deal; you could always ask Chan about it later, anyway. In the meantime, you were eager to see what the letter held.

The moment you picked the letter up, your senses were overwhelmed with a comforting, earthy scent. You recognized it immediately. It smelled of the ground after a spring shower, or of the rich dirt after a hard day's work in the fields. You breathed it in, the smell quickly becoming your favorite. You had always associated the earth with a sense of peace, and this scent was no exception.

Smiling softly to yourself, you broke the seal with ease, unfolding the crisp parchment paper to reveal the same script. You were surprised by the neat handwriting; each letter was carefully drawn out, the author's focus clearly evident in their penmanship. You began to read, your smile growing as you devoured the contents of the letter.

To the farmer,

You know, I've always thought the sun is kind of funny. The sun rises and sets, and then rises and sets again. Sometimes the sky is blue, and other days it is white. But in every sunrise, there is one thing that stays the same. It's you. You always rise with the sun. I used to wake up when it was light outside, but these days I've started to wake up earlier. It's a good way to start the day. I know the sun is your companion in the mornings.

Your admirer,

H.

You stared down at the words, the heat of a blush rising up your cheeks. How sweet, you thought to yourself, holding the letter a bit closer. You had to admit that it was nice to read—to know that someone in town noticed the time of day you woke up and, what's more, noticed how much you liked to work under the early sunlight. You hadn't thought about the author much before, but now, you were eager to meet them.

Before you could think it over, you folded the letter with care, sliding it into the pocket of your overalls. You glanced up toward the sun, letting it wash over your face for a moment before heading to work. The sun was your companion, after all. You may as well take advantage of its light.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Over the next few weeks, the letters continued. Each day, Chan would deliver one to your doorstep. It became part of the routine, and you quickly grew accustomed to the extra attention. Every time you spotted the blueberry seal on your front doorstep, your heart leapt with joy, eager to see the new message written within.

Sometimes the letters were short; other times they were long. Occasionally, the author would ramble, describing a favorite memory from their childhood or sharing a silly joke. You read each word carefully, often smiling or chuckling as you read, already eager for the next message. The more letters you read, the more you wanted to learn about this mystery person.

A part of you wondered who this author might be. The only clues were the scent of earth on the pages and a few hand-drawn images. You had been able to rule out Chan; it would be near impossible for him to write a letter each day and still be on time to the next house. That left you with little knowledge of the writer's identity, though you hoped that the writer might eventually share their identity.

Today, a soft rainfall pattered down over your fields. You sighed to yourself as you entered the house, wiping the mud from your boots before sliding them off on the mat in front of your door. Another busy day in the fields was over. Tomorrow was a new day, one where you would finally plant a new patch of carrots. The prospect of the harvest kept you motivated as you reached for the envelope, eagerly tearing it open with a smile.

As you read the letter, your smile slowly faded. A hint of fear and excitement coursed through your veins, leaving you a little shaken as you absorbed each word.

To the farmer,

It's getting colder here. Soon, I'll have to wear a scarf every day, even indoors. I wish I had the courage to share more of myself with you. Maybe if we ever met in person, I wouldn't be so nervous. I can't wait until I'm brave enough to tell you more about me.

Your admirer,

H.

P.S. I hope the sun will rise tomorrow morning. You always end up rising, and I trust your routine.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

The letters started to come with less often. Sometimes you would receive one per day. Other times, you might get one a few days apart, with only one letter on the weekends. You hated to admit that it left you feeling a bit sad, your mood growing darker as time passed.

"Oh, Chan." You tried not to sound disappointed when you spotted the mailman walking up your path one morning, a few letters in hand. "Any letters from H?"

"Hmm, I don't think so." He shrugged, sliding a few letters into your mailbox. "Let me see. Oh! There is one."

He handed you a new letter, a faint smile on his lips. You quickly broke the seal, not bothering to glance over the others as you eagerly opened the newest one. Your eyes widened at the words you saw before you.

My dearest,

I'm sorry that my letters haven't come as often lately. There was a big change at the publishing house I'm working for. I didn't tell you about that before. I've been trying to keep my letters shorter since I have less free time now, but I always find myself wanting to write more to you. I guess I can't help myself.

I'll keep writing letters if you keep reading.

Yours,

H.

P.S. Thank you for working hard every day. It helps to see that the world still spins, no matter what's happening in it.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

"Have you ever thought about trying to meet H?"

The question made you pause. You were out by the docks, fishing with Jisung. The young man was your favorite fishing buddy, often sitting on the end of the dock in silence with a small smile. You both had been there for an hour, but this was the first time he'd spoken today. You blinked at him in confusion before setting your fishing rod aside, a curious look on your face.

"What do you mean?"

Jisung smiled. "It's obvious you enjoy their letters," he pointed out, reeling in another fish from his line. "Maybe you could meet them?"

You stared down at your reflection on the water, chewing the inside of your cheek. The truth was that you hadn't considered the idea, mainly because you couldn't decide if it was a good one. It wasn't like the writer had never suggested the idea—it was the whole purpose behind their first few letters, but something about that made you hesitate.

It was as if you were waiting for H to come to you when they were ready, and vice versa. It was a little scary, to be honest. The thought of finally meeting the person you'd been so connected to these last few weeks made you a bit nervous, to say the least.

"I guess I should." You nodded, casting your line again.

"Well, I'd like to meet them too," Jisung said, glancing toward you. "To approve."

You smiled at that, rolling your eyes playfully. "What's not to like? They write beautiful letters and draw nice little pictures," you laughed, watching the bait at the end of your hook. "Maybe I should meet them."

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

That night, you made your decision.

"Chan! You have a moment?" You waved the mailman down the next day as he passed your house on the trail, a few envelopes in his arms.

He looked over in surprise, smiling as he hurried down the path. "Good morning," he greeted you. "How's the farm?"

You smiled back at him. "Great, hey, you seemed to know a little bit about H that you aren't telling me." You said, getting straight to the point. "Do you know anything more?"

The mailman frowned for a moment, before sighing. "Well, you should go to the beach." He said, gesturing to the coastline, visible over your house. "Hy—I mean, H, they live near there."

You blinked, looking to where the mailman was pointing. "They live near the beach?"

"Yeah."

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

It had to be the grumpy writer who lived alone that you hadn't met yet. That was your only option, right? He had to be H. Who else could it be? You sighed to yourself, gathering your things in a bag and setting off in the direction of the beach.

It was a bit of a hike, the ocean path curving and twisting to take you along a scenic route. You didn't mind the walk, though, pausing often to take in the scenery. By the time you arrived at the beach, you felt a little calmer. The beach was deserted; though that didn't surprise you. It wasn't too warm today. The air was cool and refreshing, with a few clouds rolling by overhead. It was the perfect day for a walk on the sand.

You scanned the coastline for any signs of a cabin, spotting one in the distance. It was nestled between the cliffs, overlooking a small patch of beach. It seemed a bit hidden, the sight making you smile to yourself.

The author had to be a loner, just like you were.

Taking a deep breath, you approached the cabin. As you came closer, you noticed a small, stone path that led to a patio on the beach. You spotted a wooden swing, rocking slightly in the breeze. A person sat on the seat, their head ducked in a book as they sat under a shady umbrella.

As you drew closer, you saw the mysterious person, his dark hair was a little messier than usual, with a few strands falling in front of his face. He seemed lost in the book in his hands. His eyes were glazed over and unfocused as he sat, oblivious to his surroundings. The sight made you smile, a sudden feeling of affection coming over you as you approached.

You recognized that messy hair and those dark, mysterious eyes.

It was Hyunjin. It was Hyunjin who lived alone near the beach. Hyunjin, the man you had only heard a few stories about from Chan and Felix, but he looked even better than you had imagined.

"Oh!" The man looked up and saw you approaching him. His eyes widened for a second before he cleared his throat, turning to face you with a hint of panic in his expression.

You paused at his reaction, stopping in your tracks. You suddenly felt very silly, not even considering that Hyunjin might not actually want you to visit him. You tried not to frown as you considered the possibilities. Had Hyunjin forgotten about your correspondence? Had you been a mistake? Was this a terrible idea?

"H-Hyunjin!" You stammered, cursing yourself for not planning this a bit better. You could already feel yourself start to sweat. "I'm the farmer, it's nice to finally meet you."

You held your hand out to Hyunjin, who eyed you up for a moment, his expression unreadable. You swallowed thickly, preparing to turn back around and run away—

"The farmer." The words sounded breathless. Hyunjin slowly placed his hand in yours. You couldn't help but notice how his eyes were trained on your face. His cheeks looked a little red as he held your hand in his own. It felt warm and a bit calloused, a clear sign that he was a writer. "It's nice to finally meet you too."

You felt the butterflies in your stomach flutter as you watched him, trying not to let the emotion show on your face. This was H. It was Hyunjin who wrote such beautiful letters to you and sent you drawings in the post. Hyunjin was your author, the person you'd connected so easily to through ink and paper, and he was so beautiful.

"It's nice to put a name to a face." You murmured, letting your eyes wander over Hyunjin. "You're just how I imagined."

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

"So," You sat next to Hyunjin on his porch, staring up at the sky above you. It was beginning to grow darker, the evening sky giving way to a more vibrant sunset. "How'd you get so good at writing letters?"

Hyunjin smiled a little to himself. He leaned back against his hands, his long legs stretched out on the floor. "I've always loved writing," he confessed. "But it was different before, when I was younger."

"Different how?" You asked, looking over at him curiously.

He let his eyes close. "Before I left the city, I worked at the publishing house." He explained. "I always wrote stories there, but they weren't really... mine."

You blinked, watching the way his long lashes fluttered against his cheeks. "They were stories that people hired us to write," he said quietly. "But I liked doing it. I felt like I was doing something special with the words, even if they weren't my words. I wrote all day and got paid for it. But there was always this... nagging voice in the back of my mind, wondering if it was good enough."

You felt a lump form in your throat. "It sounds like it was a good job," you whispered, not wanting to ruin the moment. "Why did you leave it behind?"

The author chuckled. "I got sick of it." He sighed, opening his eyes and looking up to the sky. "It felt so empty. I wasn't making my own decisions. I wasn't getting paid because the stories were mine."

You swallowed. "But here?" You gestured toward the beach, your heart swelling in your chest. "You can write about whatever you want?"

Hyunjin looked to you and smiled softly.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

As the days turned to weeks and then to months, the two of you fell into an easy routine. You visited Hyunjin every morning, bringing breakfast along with you, and Hyunjin always made sure to leave you a letter by your front door in return. Sometimes he would be waiting outside his cabin when you came, eager to talk about a new plot point that he came up with the night before. Other times, he would be asleep by the time you got to him, only stirring from his slumber when he heard you set breakfast out on his porch.

And he wrote to you every day, leaving letters on your front doorstep, each one signed off with a different nickname. Some days, the nickname was short, others, it was longer. But he always ended the letter with a promise of a new chapter, just as he had with the first one, so long ago.

On your fifth visit, this time you brought him a letter. He was surprised to see you hand it to him. He blinked down at the envelope in his hands, running a thumb over the words on the paper.

You were nervous, you were nowhere near as good as him, but you assumed that speaking in his language would gauge his appeal.

To my writer,

You are more talented than you give yourself credit for.

Thank you for always writing so beautifully,

Your admirer,

The farmer

"I wanted to send you a letter today." You whispered as his eyes scanned over the letter.

Hyunjin looked up from the page. His expression softened as he set the letter down. He held out his arms in invitation, his lips curving upwards as he stared back at you. You didn't need him to repeat himself, throwing yourself into his arms without hesitation. You leaned your head against his chest and listened to his heart beat. The sound made your heart race. It was as if Hyunjin's heartbeat had become a part of you. You could hear the rhythm and knew it was a part of you as well, just as much as it was him.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Over the course of your visits, it was inevitable that your relationship evolved into something deeper. It began with subtle touches—a brush of your hands against each other as you sat together on the porch or the feeling of Hyunjin's gaze on your face as you read a story he wrote. As you began to notice his attention to detail, the way he was able to capture emotions with words you didn't know how to express, you realized how much he had given you.

You had never considered yourself an introvert, but something about being around him made you feel at ease. The thought made you blush. There was a strange warmth that settled in the pit of your stomach whenever you were around him. You began to crave it, yearning to feel it whenever you could, whether you were spending time together on the beach, walking the trails along the coastline, or simply sitting on his porch swing, talking about nothing at all.

And slowly, that warmth grew into something more. The more time you spent with him, the more you wanted to be close to him. It started with soft smiles and light touches, followed by gentle touches and lingering glances. It began as something innocent, but the longer you were with him, the stronger it got. You were becoming addicted to it, longing for the next chance you would get to see him, to touch him and feel that rush of electricity course through your veins.

You found yourself waking up in the early hours of the morning to watch the sunrise. You began to count the seconds until the mail came. You went to bed late every night, staying awake until your eyes hurt to stare.

Your visits grew longer, your conversations becoming deeper.

Hyunjin became your new favorite distraction.

"It's a book." He had whispered as you both lay on the beach, his gaze trained on the stars above you. "I'm writing a book, I think."

"You think?"

He had nodded, the hint of a smile on his lips as he spoke. "Yes, and I've started to wonder..." he had paused then, looking to you as his cheeks turned pink. "That you're my inspiration."

You felt your breath hitch at the admission, a blush creeping up your neck to stain your cheeks. "What do you mean?"

He had sat up and looked at you with those deep, dark eyes.

"You're the one that I'm writing this book for. It's yours, my feelings, my thoughts, everything in it is for you." He said, reaching up to cup your cheeks. "I think about you when I wake up and when I go to sleep and when I go for my walks," he had smiled shyly. "You're the only person that's on my mind and it feels so good to feel that way about something again."

The warmth that spread through your veins made you dizzy, but you found yourself smiling, a small sigh escaping your lips.

You wanted nothing more than to be Hyunjin's inspiration forever.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

And soon the book was complete.

It was the last page in Hyunjin's journal that had been filled with his scrawled words and thoughts. It had taken him months, but he finished it, his heart and soul on each page.

Hyunjin read it to you as you sat on the porch swing, wrapped in a blanket as the wind blew off the sea. He sat with you and held the book in his hands, turning the pages as he spoke. His voice was soft and melodic as he told his story. The words came easily to him, the sentences flowing smoothly together. He paused often to look up at you, his eyes searching yours. His voice grew quieter with each word, until finally, he was whispering the last page.

You felt the tears well in your eyes, threatening to fall as he closed the book and set it aside. The silence that followed felt heavy, your mind still processing what he had just told you.

The book was a confession to you, a way for Hyunjin to express all of the feelings he had been struggling to express for the past few months. He told you that you were his muse, his reason to wake up each morning. You were the person who made him feel whole, complete, and it was all he wanted in life to be by your side, to feel this way for as long as he lived.

The book was about the two of you. He wrote it all, the letters he sent and the drawings he drew, just for you, to tell you how much he loved you.

Your tears spilled over, a few trickling down your cheeks as you sniffed quietly, a smile spreading across your lips as you stared up at him. He watched you closely, waiting for your response. With a shaky breath, you closed the distance between you and Hyunjin, leaning in. His eyes widened in surprise, his breath hitching as he realized what was about to happen. Your lips met his in a tender, hesitant kiss, pouring all your gratitude, relief, and affection into that single moment.

Hyunjin made a quiet noise, almost like a gasp, but he quickly responded, his lips moving against yours with a gentle yet fervent intensity. His hands found their way to your cheeks, cupping them delicately as if you were something precious and fragile. He deepened the kiss, and you felt a wave of warmth and security wash over you.

Time seemed to stand still as the two of you stayed there, lost in the moment. The world outside faded away, leaving only the sensation of his lips on yours, his hands cradling your face, and the steady rhythm of your racing hearts. Every pent-up emotion, every unspoken word, all lost in that moment.

And there was something that you had never mentioned to anyone before, something you were embarrassed to admit, something you had been keeping hidden deep within your heart.

You loved the author who lived by the sea.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

taglist for my beauties : @loverbangchan, @reignessance, @imperfectlyperfectprincess1, @armystay89, @ihrtlix, @jiyeonslays, @lovestaysblogs, @jeyelleohe, @celebration88

His smile 😁

Boom 🐺 🔫 🐰

HQ 200630 <GO生> VIDEO CALL EVENT

MINCHAN ♡ MUSIC CORE (240720)

please fall before i fall

jeongin x reader. best friends to lovers. they think it's unrequited love so a bit of angst. but they're just idiots. happy ending :))

summary : 3 times you saved jeongin's ass and the 1 time he saved yours (and ended up confessing along the way). holidays themed.

winter falls masterlist.

a.n. : i am very happy to finally post my first fic for the winter falls collab with my author xi hehehehhe i hope you'll enjoy this one <333 it's very light and fluffy she's the cute one!! oh and my song rec is i bet on losing dogs by mitski

One. 

Jeongin’s thumb hovers over your contact name, his rosy lip pulled tightly between his teeth. He hesitates for a few seconds before finally dialing your number. 

“What do you want?” you start which makes an incredulous snort escape his lips, a gust of powdery air materializing before his mouth from the cold. 

“How much do I have to pay you for you to come over?” 

“Ten thousand dollars. Cash,” you precise as he mouths along to what you say, already guessing what your next words would be. 

He's come to know you at an abhorrent speed these past few months; since you sat right next to him in your biology class, head buried in an oversized navy hoodie. Your perfume knocked into him like a gentle breeze— Sicilian lemon and white bouquet notes, nostalgic summer amid an unforgiven autumn. Memories of sticky fingers from molten ice cream and feet soles meeting the warm sand wafted in the air, alluring him to the kindness of a long-gone summer, you. 

That is why he talked to you at first, because you smelled nice, incredibly so. He tells you it's because he liked the pair of shoes you were wearing. 

“What if I brought you your favorite coffee?”

“Are you outside my dorm?” you squeal and he imagines you must be scrambling to get up, opening the curtains. He knows he's right as your figure materializes behind the window. “Hi,” you wave, a small giggle escaping your lips. He can't help the fond smile that draws upon his lips. 

He thinks he likes you a little. 

“Hey, please help me wrap my family’s gifts,” he pouts, waving the coffee in the air. Your order that he memorized by heart, not even meaning to, it was just natural for him to order you coffee every day, to remember your preferences as if they were his own. 

“Why are you here if we're going to your dorm anyways?” you laugh, leaning against the window. 

“Because I know I need to bribe you,” he sighs, angling his head to the side. “Are you not going to hang up and come downstairs? The coffee will grow cold.”

“I’m coming!”

An hour later, four gifts are resting beside Jeongin's figure, perfectly wrapped thanks to your skilled hands. He's lying on the warmed tiles, and you're right beside him, so close your knee brushes against his thigh now and then. 

He is keeping count, well, more so his heart, constricting in his lungs each time you touch. 

He's so aware of you, so much he's sure you’ve crawled into his skin, morphing him into nothing but a shell of you. 

Perhaps he likes you a lot. 

“You're an insane man. Who leaves gift wrapping to the last minute?”

“You're best friends with said insane man.” 

“Remind me how did that happen again?” you ask, propping your head on your elbow, and turning to the side to look at him. Jeongin has to pretend that the sight of you hovering over him doesn't affect him. That his eyes aren't drawn to your lips, heart dissolving at your feet, hoping to brush against your own. 

Please fall before I fall, he nearly pleads.

“Why are you so close,” he feigns disgust, pushing your face away with his pointer finger. 

“What? Does that fluster you?” you question, amused, bringing your face even closer to his. He scrambles away before a blush sprouts on his face, one he wouldn't be able to justify to your scrutinizing gaze. 

“As if. You're ugly,” his eyes squint, lips thinning into that particular smile he knows annoys you. He moves to the side swiftly, anticipating the shoe you throw at him.

“You're literally— remind me to never help you again, asshole.”

“I'm kidding. Thank you for today, seriously. I didn't know wrapping gifts could be this hard.” He falls back to the floor dramatically, banging his head against the tiles in the process.

“Well deserved,” you whisper. 

“I heard that.”

“Good,” you giggle, before gently massaging the spot where he has bumped his head. He purses his lips against one another, afraid of what words might escape the confines of his throat, vocal cords moving to the gentle rhythm of your touch. 

“Will you keep on being this clumsy, Innie? mm?” you muse, tone quieter. 

The nickname makes his insides churn, it is always so tender when it falls from your lips. No one has ever called him this softly before. No one has ever called his heart before you. 

He shouldn't be this clumsy with it. It is a fragile organ, akin to glass, easily breakable, so translucent— it'd be easy for anyone to peer inside and find you in it. 

“Yeah, I probably will.”

He'll stop liking you next year. He hopes. He'll try. 

Two.

Next year has come, familiar frigid winds pulling you to Jeongin’s heart, perhaps even more so than before, cementing your being into the nooks and crannies of his soul, perfectly so, as if it was destined for you alone to fill the emptiness inside him. 

Seasons have changed and yet summer remains, its essence stored safely within the notes of your perfume, it tickles his nose as you're seated on the countertop, legs swinging lazily while he scouts through his fridge. 

“Remind me why we're doing this again?”

“Because I made a bet with Yoon.”

“Your sixteen years old brother?”

“Yes.”

“You are in college.”

“I know.”

“Why are you taking it to heart?” 

“Because I have my pride,” he says solemnly, hand on his heart and you roll your eyes. 

“You literally begged at my feet fifteen minutes ago to help you.”

A year later, Jeongin stood beneath your window once again, phone brought up to his ear, hand hidden behind his back. You pick up on the first ring. 

“Look out the window,” he quickly says before you can even speak. 

“Hello, Y/n, how are you, Y/n, are you surviving with the cold—” you say sarcastically as you pull the curtains, the words dissolving in your tongue as he brings a single flower before him— you recognize its pink petals easily, Camellia, the rose of winter.

“I did not have time for coffee, but I plucked this off the sidewalk,” he offers, an amused grin on his face. “Help me bake cookies, pretty please, I'll be forever indebted to you. Forever and ever and ever and ever—”

“This is such a poor rendition of Romeo and Juliet, I'm afraid Shakespeare is suffering in his grave right now.”

“Do you think he knows of every theater play that was done to his story?” Jeongin muses.

“That's a good question actually. I hope he didn't see mine,” you shudder before your face pales. 

“You did not tell me you ever did that!”

“I'll bake your cookies and you'll never bring this up again.”

“Deal. My Juliet,” he smirks and you throw a middle finger aggressively to his face before hanging up. He shouldn't find it as endearing as he does.

“Because, my dear Y/n, this is my holiday reputation at stake. I kind of raised the bar last year with my gift wrapping.”

“You did?” you raise an eyebrow promptly at his words and he sighs, taking out the butter before leaning against the fridge.

“We did. Which is exactly why I need your help again. Imagine how embarrassing it would be if Yoon wins,” he shudders and a giggle finally escapes your lips.

The kitchen warms up at the sight of your smile.

“It's cute when you need me once in a while,” you say nonchalantly, hopping off the counter and moving to wash your hands. Jeongin freezes in his place.

“I always need you though,” he confesses quickly, swallowing the words, hoping that this way you wouldn't be able to taste the sincerity coating them, sticky honey dripping from his tongue whenever it speaks of you.

“Good thing you'll always have me then,” you beam, your words hanging into the air, oxygen suddenly harder to inhale.

“Gross,” he fakes a shiver, as his heart drops in his chest, breaks, and twists at the weight your words carry.

He'll always have you, but not in the way he wants to, your eyes would never soften at the mere mention of his name, and you won't think that a season blooms into every room he is in. He has you, but just a fragment of you, not how you have him, as a whole, heart, body, and soul. 

He's already fallen, a terrible, terrible fall.

“Will you help me or just stare off into the distance?” you ask, tilting your head to the side. He smiles bashfully, rolling his sleeves and sidling by your side to mix in the eggs, one by one, per your instructions. 

It smells nice in the kitchen, the caramelized fragrance of browned butter, sweetened by the sugar dissolving into the warm liquid. Tentative sunlight streams through the window, and it falls perfectly on Jeongin's face, highlighting his sharp features. 

Not that jeongin needs any additional light, he reminds you of spring, a flower blooming on his face each time he smiles, his dimples two youthful fountains the roots strive from, brightening his face even more. 

He tentatively glances at you as he adds the chocolate chips to the mix, only to find you staring forward. He misses the fond look on your face by a few seconds, the tinting of your features with soft hues of pink, of spring, of him. He always misses it, always misses you. 

Three.

"I can't believe you have 37 pairs of shoes but not one nice shirt.”

“It's 36, please count correctly,” Jeongin retaliates and you snort, flopping around in bed till you land on your stomach, chin propped up by your hand. Jeongin is still rummaging through his closet, head almost disappearing into the dark void of his wardrobe. 

“What do you need this for anyway?” you question, as you scroll through your phone mindlessly. Jeongin’s eerie silence causes you to look up. 

“Um. I have a date tonight.”

“Oh.” 

His words hang over the room like a heavy cloak soaked with rain, the oxygen sucked out of your lungs and ensnared within that singular gasp.

Jeongin swiftly turns around, before kneeling beside the bed, eyes brimming with a hopeless search— you are too focused on steadying your breathing to notice.

“Should I go?”

“I mean… Why are you asking me?”

“If you don't want me to, I won't,” he speaks in an overflowing sincerity, as though he'd willingly surrender the reins of his life for you to guide, should you only dare to ask. 

A breath, a pause, and he adds, “In case you'll be lonely tonight.” Your hope deflates in an instant, akin to a birthday balloon tossed into the careless hands of children. 

Pity, that's what he feels for someone who hasn't had a date in a year while he went on ones regularly. Although they never transcended beyond that first meeting, always a first date, never a second. He says none of the people he meets are his type. 

“I have a date too.” It was the truth, Suhoo had told you to meet him at the ice rink. You said you'd think about it. You knew deep down that your answer would be no, solely because he isn't Jeongin.

Perhaps it is too late for him to fall for you.  

“Really?” 

“Yeah, with Suhoo, you know, the guy in our Economics class.”

“He's nice.”

“Mm.” 

Could you lose something you never had in the first place?

“You should wear Seungmin’s white shirt.” 

“Yeah. That's what I thought too.”

“And bring them flowers. The rose of winter, maybe.” 

You had preserved the plucked flower he gave you in a vase. The pink of the petals liquefying and bleeding into the blush on Jeongin’s cheeks once he noticed. 

“That one's just for you.” 

Four. 

You're alone on the ice rink, the frigid winds assail your form, fingers numb from winter's cruel grasp. Suhoo didn't come after all, perhaps he was offended by you calling him at the last minute to confirm your date.

The chill of disappointment is more biting than the frost— you want to melt off the ice, you want your spring. You want your Jeongin. 

But he isn't yours, perhaps he will never be. He is too sought after, too captivated by the fleeting chase of someone new to spare a glance at you. 

But in this instant, you need him. You need him to hold your hands in his larger, warmer ones and get you off the ice rink. You need the sight of his familiar dimples and blooming smile. 

So, you call him. He picks up on the first ring. 

“Are you that bored on your date?” He playfully taunts, and his voice becomes a gentle breeze that stirs the emotions you struggle to contain. Tears cascade down your cheeks in an achingly familiar path. 

“I-Innie,” you hiccup, and you’re instantly met with the sound of scraping chairs against the floor, the hastening cadence of footsteps hurrying out into the street. 

“Did he do something to you?” He speaks so coldly, a tone so foreign to the warmth of your Jeongin. He shouldn't be tainted with winter too. 

“He didn't come. Can you p-please pick me up?” 

“I will. I'm coming in a bit, okay?” 

He finds you rather quickly on the ice rink, a sore thumb unmoving between the gliding bodies. He skates over to you, almost falling twice in the process. 

“You're so clumsy,” you snort as he stands before you, sobs racking through your body once more at the sight of him.

You weren't mad at Suhoo. You were heartbroken over Jeongin.

“I'll beat him up for you. I'll tell Changbin to help me too,” he smiles, hands fidgeting as they land upon your cheeks, trying their best to wipe away your tears.

“Please don't cry. I hate seeing you cry, Y/n, I really can't bear it." The tears only fall harder at his words, as if he's stringing them forth with each touch of his.

“Did he do something to you?” an unknown voice startles you and you turn to your right to find a girl looking at you then at Jeongin, a frown etched on her eyebrows.

“No, I'm her friend I didn't-”

“I wasn't talking to you,” the girl cuts him off and you laugh despite you, as Jeongin’s jaw hangs open, before closing once more.

“It's not him, thank you so much though,” you smile gratefully and she nods, eyes wary as she glares at Jeongin one last time, before skating away.

“I can't believe that just happened,” He exhales, a breath tinged with bewilderment, before he delicately encircles a hand around your back. Gently, he guides your head to rest against the comforting refuge of his chest.

“What are you doing?” you mumble against his navy hoodie, the one he borrowed from you. You can still smell your perfume on him. 

“I'm comforting you.” 

“You don't like hugs.” 

“It's different when it comes to you.”

You close your eyes, allowing the tide of his warmth to envelop you like a cascade of spring petals.

“Where is your date?”

“I didn't go.”

“Why is that?”

“Because I love you. I'm tired of looking for you in other people,” he quickly says and you peel yourself away from him, feeling as if his clothes were suddenly made of fire. 

“What?” you whisper, eyes glistening with unshed tears.

“I love you,” he repeats, each word drawn out, much slower this time, his hands cradling your face, tenderly, as though holding the sun between his delicate fingers. “I'm tired of pretending you're not my summer.”

“Don't say things you don't mean,” your voice wavers. 

“I mean it. I've always loved you. You complete me in ways I didn't know were possible, and I know you only see me as a friend but-”

Your lips press against his, a culmination of aching desires that have lingered for two years. Distant laughter echoes in the background, ice cream melting onto your fingers, a soft breeze ruffling your hair, flowers blooming under the soft caress of the sun— two seasons melting sweetly into the kiss.

“You're literally so blind,” you giggle against his lips, and his smile widens, your noses brushing against one another. “I love you too, idiot.”

“You love me?”

“You're my favorite season.” 

“Don't steal my lines.”

“Hey—” he kisses you this time, the winter is long forgotten. 

Was it ever a fall if you caught him in the end?

Burning in the winter wind

changbin x reader. (fake) enemies to lovers. hurt/comfort but it’s a light fluffy read!! college!au. lowkey romcom vibes (i tried 😭) wc: 4.4k)

summary : Sustaining an ankle injury during a ski retreat isn't fun. Especially when Seo Changbin volunteers to stay back to tend to you- the one man you can never get a read on.

a.n: sahar finally writing a fic that doesn’t take an emotional turn… we cheered!!!!!!!!!!!!! my 3rd fic for the winter falls collab with my writer :,) if u haven’t checked out xi’s fics yet what are u waiting for!!!!! please enjoy reading, i hope you’ll like this one too <3 i love you muah

“Are you okay?”

It is quite difficult to roll your eyes when your face is pressed against the snow, you’ve found, so much so you're sure you’re breathing in dainty snowflakes rather than the intended oxygen. 

A dull pain emanates from your right ankle, the very one you just twisted while attempting to ski down a sled, making you plummet head-first into the hard ground. Despite how soft snow looks as it blankets the earth in a pristine white, it is quite incapable of cradling your fall. Instead, its snowflakes seem to liquefy, filtrating through your clothes and making a biting cold cascade down your spine. 

Clearly, you are far from okay; hence, your eyes roll in a silent protest at the stranger’s questioning, though they cannot see you. If you further bury your head in the snow and do not move, would they think you are a collective hallucination and spare you the embarrassment of helping you?

“Um, should we call an ambulance?” 

Clearly not. 

“I'm peachy!” you throw a thumbs-up in the air, not bothering to lift your face off of the ground, you’re sure that by now the blank canvas beneath you has reluctantly molded itself to the contours of your face. 

Much prettier than a snowman, you’d personally argue. 

“Are you sure?” the tentative voice quips up again and you suddenly feel bad for ignoring this passerby, now stuck comforting an odd person whose limbs are not adequately crafted for skiing.

“Yeah,” you finally turn around, realizing that the pain in your ankle will not disappear, even if you choose to ignore it. “Just resting, on the snow. The view is nice from here, you know.”

The stranger backs away subtly at your words, and you chuckle inwardly. 

“I got it.” Someone else speaks from your left and their voice carries a familiarity that drapes an uncomfortable weight atop your lungs. You pivot your head incredibly slowly, locking eyes with none other than Changbin. 

You scoff outwardly. 

“Need help?” he asks, hovering above you like a shadow. 

Changbin was once your partner in a lab chemistry project, he is also the one person you now avoid most in college. 

So, you do what any sensible person would in your place— you turn away, once again pressing your face into the comforting oblivion of the snow.

“I… can still see you.” His words linger, hesitating in the crisp winter wind, and you respond with a (now more effortless) roll of your eyes.

“I know.”

“Then, what are you doing?”

“If I pretend you are not here long enough, will you finally tire and leave me alone?”

“No.”

“Fine,” you huff, turning back once more. You summon the resolve to finally push your torso up from the pits of your embarrassment, before glancing down at your ankle, only to find that it has doubled in size. An angry scream bubbles up in your throat, but you will yourself to tame the fire within— if you think slightly more about your situation, you’d burst into tears right here and then.

“That needs to be treated,” Changbin states simply, his eyes also locked on your injury. You shut your eyes closed, forcing a deep breath to travel through your lungs. The oxygen you just inhaled seems only to fuel your anger more. 

“I actually think it’s fine,” you put on the brightest smile on your face, yet your eyes refuse to follow the movement of your lips, making you look like a catatonic doll. You hope that’s enough to make Changbin go away. 

“Who are you lying to?” he cocks an eyebrow at you.

You’re wrong. Again. 

His self-assured tone further aggravates you, so you will yourself to stand up, wincing as soon as your right foot touches the floor. You bite your lip hard enough to draw out blood, the metallic taste of it coating your tongue uncomfortably. 

“See, I can stand!” you say cheerfully and he crosses his arms before his chest, clearly unimpressed. “Try walking.”

“I actually wanna stay here.”

“Still as stubborn, I see,” he sighs, before bending his knees slightly. Next thing you know, you’re scooped up in his arms, your hands wrapping around his neck instantly. 

“What are you doing?” you ask incredulously, eyes darting furiously over his face. 

“Carrying you to the infirmary.”

“I can see that,” you say between your teeth. “I said I'm fine.”

“You clearly aren’t.”

“What are you? an ankle expert?” 

“When your parents own the ski resort you kind of become one,” his eyes meet yours once, still as emotionless as they’ve always been when they gaze at you. 

“Do your parents own this?” you clear your throat, surprise overtaking your tone. 

“Yeah.”

“Can you tell them to upgrade my room to a suit, then?” you bat your eyelashes at him, your smile as sweet as saccharin. 

“You literally buried your head in the snow two minutes ago because you wanted me gone.”

“Exactly,” you nod vigorously, “that was two minutes ago, I am a changed person now.”

“Yeah?” he smirks slightly, the corners of his mouth almost tugging upwards. “What changed?”

You shrug as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. “I didn't know your parents owned the resort.”

☃︎⋆꙳•❅

“It's not broken, thankfully, just sprained. You need to ice it, and not put any pressure on it. Keep your leg elevated at all times, and avoid walking at all costs.” Maria’s voice reaches your ears in waves, the pain in your ankle making it harder to grasp what she’s instructing you to do. Still, you easily understand that all your winter break plans are now officially ruined. 

“But I wanna ski,” you pout at the fifty-something nurse who smiles sympathetically at you, handing you a cooling balm. 

“You shouldn’t have fallen then.” Changbin deadpans before she can reply and your right eye squints in annoyance. Maria catches it and winks at you. 

“You shouldn’t have fallen then,” you mimic, voice high-pitched. He simply shakes his head, a ghost of a smile appearing for a second on his lips, before disappearing promptly. 

“Thank you, Maria,” he bows slightly, his voice sounding kinder when it speaks to everyone but you. 

“Welcome, baby,” she squishes his cheeks before patting them gently, and you stifle a giggle at the blush sprouting on his face. 

Maria leaves the room, stating that she has another patient to check up on. Your eyes remain downcast, glaring at your ankle as if it’ll scare your body back to health. 

“You'll burn a hole into your skin at this rate,” he comments, his hand suddenly appearing in your line of view. You sigh in defeat before reaching for his hand, intertwining fingers as he aids you in rising. His arm becomes a secure anchor around your waist as he guides you toward the elevator. There, he inputs a code on a small panel before pressing button 44.

“That's not where my chamber’s at.”

“I know, I had them move your stuff to the penthouse,” he explains simply as your heart skips a traitorous beat. 

“Actually? I was just kidding; I don't want an upgraded room.” 

“I wanted to,” his eyes locked on yours, a myriad of stars seemingly swimming in his pupils. “It has easier access for you since it opens up directly in the room.” 

“I'll pay you back. How much is the difference?” 

He leans in, whispering a six-figure number in your ear and you feel your knees buckle underneath you. 

“That much?” your face pales and he nods. “You still want to pay me back?” 

A nervous chuckle leaves you as you lock eyes with the camera in the elevator, “thank you Mrs. Seo for the gift,” you bow down to the best of your capacity. “Thank you, Mr. Seo.” 

The penthouse is much more spacious than your previous room, vast windows framing breathtaking vistas of pristine mountains. The sound of a crackling fireplace tames the fire within you, morphing it into a harmless ember rather than scorching flames, soothing your soul. A chandelier right above the bed casts a warm glow on the room, that softens your heart and makes you less resentful towards the snow.

“Here,” he sits you down on the edge of the bed, before heading to the mini-fridge across from the room. He takes out a packet of ice before promptly kneeling in front of you. 

“It'll be a little cold,” he reassures before placing the ice on your wound. the sarcastic retort you had withers at the tip of your tongue, like a candle flame blown away by a gentle breeze; because Changbin is being gentle to you right now. his eyebrows scrunching as he makes sure not to hurt you even more, his fingers encircling just above your ankle to hold you in place. Clad in his black hoodie and joggers, the tenderness of his touch is an echo of softness from days long past. 

“Thank you,” you whisper, hoping your voice would get lost in the crinkling of the wood. It doesn’t, as Changbin looks up at you, pausing his movements. “For helping me,” you add, “you didn’t have to do it.”

“It's okay. You’re not a stranger, so…” he trails off, as a buried bitterness floods your throat, akin to downing a shot of acid. You withdraw your ankle from his hold, taking the ice packet from him.

“You can go, I got it,” you smile, yet your eyes flee away from him, refusing to catch his gaze, refusing to peer into that same void that once lured you in.

“Fine. I'll come check on you later.” 

As Changbin swiftly exits the penthouse, you sink into the mattress, hands pressed against your forehead, squeezing tight. to Seo Changbin, you were not a stranger. To you, he might have been everything, once.

☃︎⋆꙳•❅ 

You first met Changbin on the stage of your nationwide rap contest, held within the confines of your campus. 

You did not know he was, but you were instantly captivated by his incendiary stage presence, and so was everyone around you, gleaming eyes turned unanimously toward him, the air ablaze with loud cheers erupting like a bubbling volcano. The question at the tip of your tongue was a natural one— “Who the fuck is this gorgeous man?”

It was as though he had sensed your inquiry, because soon after he concluded his rap with a boastful line— “They call me,” a pause, his eyes meeting yours, “Seo Changbin,” he finished, a subtle smirk painted on his lips, as if he knew that his name would become a golden trademark, one that the music world would remember for generations to come. 

His gaze lingered on you, but you did not shy away from it, you’ve never been one to run away from the things you want. Instead, you smiled at him, a toothy grin that left your cheeks slightly aching afterward.

He did not return the gesture fully, but the corners of his lips did tug upwards, as he dipped his head slightly forward in thanks. 

Cute. 

You stayed back long enough to witness Changbin accept his well-deserved first place award, clad in his gray joggers, a snug black tank top, and atop it a deconstructed hoodie boasting enticing holes on the side, giving you a generous view of his sculpted muscles. His silver chains glimmered under the resounding flashes, and you felt a surge of pride at this stranger basking in the spotlight. 

Your smile only grew wider as Chan and Jisung ran to him, encircling him in his arms and shaking him with palpable happiness. Thunderous cheers erupted, a chorus of voices chanting 'Seo Changbin' at the top of their lungs.

His name will stay with you long after that.

“So, is he single?” you inquired casually a few days later in the university cafeteria, three cups of iced americano placed before you, Chan’s extra sweetened. The latter looked up from his phone, eyes slightly widening, before leaning in.

“You like Changbin?” he asked incredulously and you squint your eyes, moving even closer to him. 

“Why? Shouldn’t I?”

“I'm just surprised because you’ve never liked any of the guys I introduced you to.”

“Because they’re all douchebags who can’t keep up with me,” you declared, tossing your hair over your shoulder as Chan smiled amusedly.

“Hey! He introduced me to you,” Jisung chimed in from your left and you rolled your eyes, patting his shoulder reassuringly. “We’re better off as friends, Ji.” 

That was true, your first, and last date with Jisung, ended up with you ordering sushi and laughing at your Tinder matches at an empty parking lot. He's been one of your closest friends ever since.

“Are we?” Jisung made obnoxious kissing noises and you faked a gag, pinching his arm. Han retaliated by yelling so loudly the entirety of the cafeteria turned to look at you. Chan attempted to cover his face with his palm, a desolated look painted on his features.

“Anyways,” Jisung cleared his throat once he settled again, “he is single. But he’s not looking for anything right now.” 

“Maybe he just hasn’t looked at me yet.”

Fate seemed to be on your side because Changbin did look at you after that. Your professor Kim, an unwitting cupid, paired you with him for your chemistry project, and for the following month, you found yourself meeting Changbin every day in the college laboratory, to work on the synthesis and characterization of aspirin.

Changbin was different from anyone you’ve ever taken a liking to. He did not stir violent butterflies in your stomach, nor made your palms sweat endlessly from nerves. Instead, he infused a peculiar serenity within you, enough to make you eagerly count down the minutes until your next meeting.

Contrary to the fiery persona he unleashed on stage, Changbin exuded a calming aura that held you captive each time he drew near. It was impossible to divert your gaze from him, especially when his loose curls cascaded perfectly over his dark brown eyes, ones framed by thick-rimmed black glasses. His scent, a captivating blend of pinewood and spices, lingered like a second skin on your body, trailing after him and enveloping you in its embrace, long after he was gone.

He felt like a winter wind brushing against your skin—strong enough to be felt, yet cool enough to be craved by each one of your senses.

You sensed his gaze upon you as well, felt the subtle brush of his hand against your spine when he moved around you, unnecessary yet deliberate. How he brought you hot chocolate every time you met up to warm up your icy fingers. He was sweet and caring; in a way you’d only notice if you paid attention to the things said silently. 

Yet, he remained an enigma—warm on certain days, cold on others. It seemed as if he restrained himself from growing comfortable in your presence, as if you were a bad weed that’d spread through his roots if he dared approach you. Or maybe that was how he viewed himself— a delicate shell with a void inside, guarding itself against any perceived threat. 

Who was Changbin, truly? What did he like and dislike? Why did he withhold his smiles, stifle his laughter, and avert his eyes after just a fleeting glance at you? Why did he draw near only to retreat each time you attempted to get close? The questions swirled in your mind, creating a tapestry of curiosity that begged to be unraveled by his hands.

“Wanna come to karaoke with me and hang out tonight?” Chan asked a week after the end of your chemistry project. You hummed non-convincingly, nose buried in your newly purchased book. 

“Changbin might come too,” he sang-sung and you quickly perked up, much more interested in his plans now. He snorted at your reaction, and in response, you playfully flashed him your prettiest middle finger.

Chan's disbelief was right though. It was unusual of you to be so expectant of someone’s presence, for your gaze to flee to the door every two seconds awaiting their entrance. 

Despite your high hopes, Changbin did not come that night, and as much as you tried to have fun, a sense of disappointment tainted your mood. That, and the realization that he wasn't a mere crush, but something much more to you. The man you couldn’t get a read on was already coursing through your veins when you thought he had only stopped at the surface of your skin. 

Muttering a quick excuse about needing some fresh air, you left the karaoke booth, exhaling heavily, the warmth of your breath translating into silver gusts of air in the chilly night. As you descended the stairs, however, your ankle twisted on the slippery ice, and you found yourself falling, bottom-first, onto the unforgiving concrete.

An ugly sob caught in your throat as hot tears streaked down your cheeks, your palm now scraped and bloody from the impact of the fall, in a useless attempt to soften the blow.

“Let me see,” someone crouched in front of you, and you gasped softly as your eyes met Changbin's concerned gaze.

“Oh god, this is so embarrassing,” you admitted, clasping your eyes shut as he gently held your injured hand in his own, blowing air into the open cuts to soothe their burn.

“I didn't see anything,” he reassured, his tone overly sweet, and you squint your eyes at his obvious lies. “Definitely did not see you trip over nothing,” he added, a teasing smirk drawn on his lips.

“Hey!” you punched his arm playfully and he laughed, full-blown high-pitched giggles you did not think Changbin, out of everybody you knew, would be able to conjure. His eyes were squinted close, his apple cheeks raising higher as he laughed some more, and you felt an electrifying warmth flowing through your being. Suddenly, you were burning in the winter wind. 

Suddenly, you wanted to confess. 

“Did you just get possessed by a five-year-old girl?” you teased as his laughter quieted down, the smile refusing to leave his face, yet. His eyes softened as they found yours, a simple hum leaving his lips in reply. He applied some pressure on your ankle, checking if it is swollen, but that was the last thing you cared about. The sight of Changbin smiling so freely still running through your mind, again and again. You replayed it enough times since to make sure it was safely guarded in your memory, that the long march of time may not wear it down, graining its delicate edges. 

“You should smile more,” you said softly and he looked up at you, a twinkle of gratitude gleaming in his eyes. 

“Your ankle is fine. Stay here, okay? I have a first aid kit in my car.” He didn’t wait for you to reply as he jogged up to his vehicle, and you sighed, heart clenching at how affected you were by his simple touches.

“It will sting a little,” he spoke gently once he returned, before dabbing up your cut slightly with an alcohol-drenched pad. You hissed softly and he frowned, pausing in his tracks. “Okay?” 

“Mm,” you nodded, a small smile playing on your lips, “Okay.”

He continued cleaning your cuts, before applying a cooling cream on it and wrapping it in a clean gauze. He hesitated for a few seconds and your breath hitched as he leaned forward, placing the faintest kiss on your palm. 

“Healing kiss,” he said shyly, a blush blooming on his face and you giggled, bringing his hand to rest upon your cheek.

“I like you, Changbin,” you said truthfully, simply, even as your heart thudded in your chest. “Tell me, should I stop? I don't want to hurt myself.” 

“I…” he began, his words trailing off, interrupted by Chan walking out of the karaoke booth.

“What happened? Are you okay?” he asked, worry clearly dripping from his tone and you cursed inwardly. You loved Chan but you’ve never been more annoyed to see him. Your eyes flee tentatively to Changbin as Chan takes your hand in his, inspecting it. 

“Let's go inside, it’s freezing here,” Chan pulled you up and you nodded, as Changbin followed suit, before he stopped you by the door, his hand on your arm. “Come over tomorrow, please? We can talk then.” 

“Sure,” you smiled and he nodded, swiping his thumb soothingly along your wrist. “Thank you,” he whispered, before walking inside. 

☃︎⋆꙳•❅

The landline ringing snaps you away from that long-buried memory, as it disappears before your eyes like morning mist. You rub your forehead tiredly before answering.

“Hello?” 

“Hello, I would like to inform you that we'll be coming up with food service shortly,” the sweet receptionist announces in a cheery tone, and you furrow your brow.

“I did not order anything, though.”

“It is on the house. Enjoy your food!” she explains gleefully before hanging up.

On the house meaning it is Seo Changbin's treat. You couldn't help but scoff at the array of food presented before you minutes later, including that damned hot chocolate he always used to bring you, complete with marshmallows on top and colorful sprinkles because why settle for plain when you could have rainbows in your drink.

“He remembers,” ou whisper to yourself before sighing. What was the point of him remembering now? Every bit of hope you had was dismantled two months ago, akin to a hopeful dandelion blown away by the bitter wind. 

You bite your lip, contemplating for a few seconds before finally dialing Changbin’s number.

“The food will get cold. Come quickly. I won't wait for you,” you mumble before hanging up and tossing your phone away.

A few minutes later, Changbin enters your room, his cologne still following him like a second shadow. You avoid his eyes as you dig into the seafood pasta, the one he ordered for you.

“Good?” he asks, and you glance at him from the corner of your eye. "Yeah, good."

“Are you okay?” he inquires, taking a bite of the pepperoni pizza. 

You knew he was asking about your ankle, and yet, in this moment, sitting on the floor of the penthouse Changbin upgraded for you, eating the food he bought after tending to your injury, you suddenly no longer cared about the state of your body. Instead, an exasperation built up in your throat, directed towards the man who had left you hanging many nights ago. 

“You confuse me,” you say honestly, putting down your fork and he frowns. “I confuse you?” he repeats incredulously.

“Yes. You always confuse me and I hate it.” Sudden tears threaten to well in your eyes and you groan, burying your face in a pillow to hide it.

“I can't believe you are saying this,” he whispers, pushing away his plate and you scowl, lowering your silky shield. 

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You never came, y/n,” His voice, draped in heavy emotion, catches you off guard like a sudden storm in the calm of the night. “I waited and waited for you and you never came.”

“I came,” you say quietly, the hurt suddenly feeling fresh within the confines of your heart. “At the wrong time, maybe the right one, I don't know. But I came.”

“What?”

“I came to your dorm only to see you kissing a girl’s cheek and hugging her by your door. You told her you missed her and to come later once you sorted something out. Was I… What? supposed to enter and sit there to hear you reject me?” You say quickly, finally releasing the words that had long haunted you.

An incredulous laugh escapes his lips as he runs a hand through his hair, slightly pulling at its edges. “My god, that was my sister.”

“What?”

“She came over unannounced that morning. I actually told her she can't stay the night because I had someone important coming over. That someone being you,” he explains and you feel hot embarrassment flood your being, then relief. For what, exactly? Wasn’t it too late?

“How was I supposed to know?” you ask defensively and his eyes widen as he comes closer to you. 

“You could’ve asked me!”

“I was embarrassed because I put my heart bare to you. I told you I liked you when I wasn't even sure you liked me back.”

“Of course, I liked you back.” His voice softens as if it were a truth known to everyone but yourself.

“Then why were you so… distant.”

“Because you scared me, you came into my life unannounced and everything changed around me,” he pauses, a shaky breath escaping him. “Because I wasn’t looking for anything but it turns out I just didn’t know to look for you yet.”

You giggle against your will at his words, shaking your head slightly. “That's exactly what I told Chan when I asked if you were single.”

“See, soulmates,” he grins, satisfied, and you feel tingles pulsate through your entire being at his words.

“Slow down Mr. Seo. We are not even dating yet.”

“Yet? So, is there still a chance?”

“I…” your phone rings and you let out a loud groan as you peek at who's calling— Chan.

“You have the actual worst timing ever dude,” Changbin nearly screams into the phone and you can clearly hear Chan’s confused voice asking “Changbin? Where is yn?” 

Changbin hangs up on him without answering, before putting your phone on silent. Then his, for good measure.

“It's like he’s my archnemesis or something,” Changbin sighs and you laugh, amused by his exasperation. 

“So,” he clears his throat, a bit shyly, “can we start again? Properly?”

“I don't know… I need to see if something’s still there…” you muse and he cocks an eyebrow at you, leaning even closer. 

“And how will you do that?”

You throw your hands around his neck, before resting your cheek on the slate of his shoulders. He remains still for a few heartbeats, only to tighten his hold on you, his lips delicately grazing the exposed canvas of your neck.

“I knew it, you smell nice, and you are really warm,” you sigh contently, closing your eyes as a soothing peace wash over you, all the worries you harbored dissipating at his warmth.

“You smell really nice too,” he whispers and a grin lights up your face. 

“I can hear you smiling,” you point out, leaning away slightly to look at him. 

“I’m happy.”

“That's cute.”

“You’re cuter,” he says, nuzzling your nose with his own. “Your total for the food is 160 dollars by the way.”

“Can I pay back with my kisses?” you smile cheekily, bringing your lips a hair breadth away from his. 

He’s breathless as he finally presses his mouth on yours, “Please do.” 

Hey if you’re schizophrenic/psychotic I just want you to know that you’re a wonderful person and that you deserve so much better than the demonization, marginalization and stigmatization you face in this society.

a movie i've seen before II

pairing. bang chan x f!reader

type. angst (-y ish)

warnings. none

word count. 3k

a/n. part two is here! again, i am so excited to be posting this series and so grateful for the lovin you guys have been giving it <3 hope you will enjoy mwah xxx

do not forget to tell me if you wish to be added to the tag list for this series :)

part I

The next day was a recording and producing day, one of your favorites. You loved being in the studio with the boys. It was fascinating to see how their minds worked and created such extraordinary pieces of music. Despite the previous night and the disappointment it brought you, you were determined to have a good day, and push aside any personal feelings you might have. "Hi guys," you said as you entered the small room with full hands.

"You brought us coffee!" exclaimed Changbin as he scurried over for his usual. You smiled at the muscular boy and greeted Hyunjin, Han, and Seungmin already ready to work on a song.

As you sat on the couch next to Felix, you handed him his cup of coffee with a smile. He returned a thankful one before he sipped, extracting a sigh of delight from his lips. "How are you feeling today?" The question seemed innocent, but you could decipher in his eyes the ounce of worry.

"Good. I've decided to move on, and put my personal feelings aside," you whispered, making sure no one else heard you. Felix gave you a little nod of agreement, proud of you for taking this step.

The recording finally started and it was only 45 minutes later that Chan appeared clad in his usual baggy black attire, his natural curls peeking out from his hat. You pushed down the little butterflies taking flight in your stomach with a steadying breath and focused on your computer.

"Hi guys," he joyfully greeted everyone. He quickly checked on the members to monitor where they were, but when he noticed you, a sweet smile spread on his lips. "Hey, didn't see you there."

"Hi," you quickly responded, trying to keep your interactions at a minimum.

He stalked closer to you, noticing the empty coffee trays and the cups everyone had in their hands. "No coffee for me?" he pouted.

"I knew you'd be here late because of the time you finished last night, so your coffee would have been cold." He seemed to notice the curtness of your interaction and started to turn away, that horrible pout still on his plump lips. You rolled your eyes at his childish display and hated yourself for the words about to leave your lips. "But, I did get you a breakfast burrito. I knew you probably wouldn't take time to eat."

You extended the food in his direction, rolling your eyes as you saw the excited grin on his face. He wiggled in your direction, grabbed the roll, but held onto your hands with his eyes deep set on your own.

"You're truly the best."

You nodded with a tight smile, praying he'd stop holding your hands and looking at you like that. He went to his chair but kept glancing at you with a satisfied smile as he ate breakfast.

You glanced sideways at Felix, who was already staring at you and Chan with a shocked expression. He lifted his brows as he looked at you, and you sighed.

This was going to be harder than you thought.

For the rest of the day, Chan's behavior was insufferable. He was only being his usual caring, nice, and funny self, but since your goal was to stop wanting to barf butterflies whenever you saw him, any interaction felt like a jab to the throat. It didn't help that he seemed determined to get you to forgive him for missing out on last night. You waited with anticipation for the day to be over. All you needed was to go home and take a well-deserved break from Chan's intoxicating personality.

Once done, you headed out of the building with Felix while updating him on the situation.

"Yeah, I noticed it too. I think he feels really bad. You are one of his best friends."

"Aouch," you winced.

"Sorry," he muttered with an apologetic shrug of his shoulders.

"It's okay. I know you're right. He's not doing anything special. It's just that when I'm trying so hard not to harbor certain feelings towards him, it makes it harder."

"I imagine, and... I might have told him last night that he messed up. So I'm guessing that's not helping either." He reluctantly admitted.

"Felix! Why did you say that?? Of course, he's now ten times worse."

"I'm sorry!" squealed your friend as you chased him down the building. You made it out on the street, still trying to hit him, when a familiar voice said: "What did he do again?"

You both turned to face Chan waiting with the other boys before heading home. You dismissed his worries quickly and gave Felix a look of warning.

"Alright then, I'll head home. Have a good night, guys." You waved goodbye and turned away from them when Chan trotted to you.

"I'll walk with you."

You gave Felix a panicked stare as he was whisked away by the others.

"That's not necessary Chan."

"No worries, I have an errand to run in the neighborhood." He explained with that beautiful smile of his.

Unable to find a proper excuse to refuse his proposal, you started walking home together. You talked about work, music, past travels, about anything really. It had been a long time since you had such a fluid and captivating conversation with someone. You both were two long-date subscribers to the 'overthinking club' so it felt nice to chat with someone who also had a never-ending stream of things to say or question. Once you arrived at your building, you felt a pang of disappointment as you caught yourself wishing to have more time together.

"Well, this is me." You stood there awkwardly, not quite sure how to end this, but after a few seconds in silence, he looked at you with uncertainty. "Do you have anything planned tonight?"

"You mean apart from watching a Netflix series?" You chuckled. "Nope."

He looked around, hands in his pocket before suggesting with a little smirk. "Wanna come with me to the store?"

And even though your preservation instinct screamed at you not to, you said yes.

The errand went well and you decided to stop at a corner shop to get some food. It was so easy to spend time with him. He kept making little jokes, and there were never dull or awkward moments of silence. He walked you home for the second time and even went up in the building, saying it was his responsibility to bring you home the proper way. He waved you off before you closed and slid down the heavy door to silently scream.

You checked your phone to see the eight notifications from Felix demanding updates. I'm in deep shit. Was all you texted back.

When Chan returned to the dorms, a small smile still on his lips, he didn't expect his Aussie brother to wait for him in the common room.

"Your errand ran long?" cautiously asked Felix.

Dropping his bag on the ground Chan answered, "No, I walked her back. Then she came with me to the store and we decided to get something to eat. It was great; we talked a lot about the coming Paris trip. I told her about my favorite spots and we'll try to visit them while we're there."

"Wow, you must really feel bad for missing her night, uh?"

Chan froze and looked warily at his friend. "I do, but I also happen to just really enjoy her company." He was a little insulted by the insinuation that he would only do this out of guilt.

"You enjoy her company?" kept questioning Felix.

"Yes? Don't you?"

He stepped closer to him, there was something in his demeanor that Chan could not pinpoint, but made him uncomfortable. "Of course, she's my best friend, but that's all she is to me. Is that all she is for you too?"

"I- you know I don't have the time for this, as amazing as she is..."

"Then stop what you're doing." Felix's voice was harsh. "Stop what you're doing Chan. You're only going to hurt her. Don't tell me you can't see it."

With a dumbfounded expression, the leader looked at his member with furrowed eyebrows. "See what?"

"You know."

"I-"

"Chan stop. You're being mean."

"Do you seriously think she likes me?"

Felix hesitated before answering. Teared apart between wanting to respect your privacy, and wanting to protect you in any way he could.

"I don't know. I'm just saying be careful. If you know you can't give that kind of relationship to someone, don't toy with their feelings."

And just like the previous night, Felix disappeared, not without giving his older brother a look of warning. He had to get away before he kept blurting shit out and made you truly hate him. Chan watched him leave the room, questioning and rethinking every little interaction you had that day.

The following days were spent in a haze for him. Every time he saw you, he started analyzing your behavior, trying to find out if maybe there was something more for you. But it was hard to say when you were being so bubbly and affectionate with all of them. Oddly, he noticed you seemed to keep a bit more distance with him. It gave him a strange feeling, not because he thought it was weird you might have feelings for him, but because he hated not getting hugged by you, not having you bringing him little surprises as you did for the others. A feeling was settling down in the man's chest, one quite foreign to him: jealousy.

Not a week later you were all heading out for the Paris trip. The energy was at an all-time high as you made sure the boys were getting settled. You had just sat down on the plane when Chan plopped in the seat beside you with a big smile. You looked at him with a tense one, "I think Lix was supposed to sit next to me, we wanted to watch a movie."

The oldest member, without losing a second leveled you a knowing stare, never breaking his own smile. "Oh yeah, he asked me just before to switch seats. He wanted to sit next to Jeongin."

You looked at your best friend who was shooting you an apologetic look. You didn't know how much of it was true, but you would need to have a chat with that little traitor. You schooled your annoyed expression in a tight smile and took a calming breath.

Alright, so it would be Chan for a few hours.

You were flying to Paris because the boys had been invited to perform at a prestigious gala. You were incredibly excited, especially since you couldn't wait to see the famous city. Despite your worries, you spent the flight chatting with Chan about their schedule for this trip and when they would have the chance to play tourists and explore the city to their heart's will. Smoothly, the conversation evolved and he ended up showing you thousands of videos of Berry from home and even rested his head on your shoulder when he fell asleep during the movie you started together. You couldn't help, but make sure he was comfortable. You almost smacked yourself when you realized you had been looking at him like a fool. You shook your head and focused on the movie while telling yourself this was only normal behavior for Chan. He would have done this with any of the members. You were nothing special to him. After a while, you felt him reposition his head comfortably before he asked what he had missed. You thought he might sit back up, but he stayed right where he was. As comfortable as it was, this was so dangerous for your heart. You tried mentally burning the butterflies in your stomach for the rest of the flight.

You landed a few hours later and headed for the prestigious hotel you would be staying at. As fun as this trip was, it also meant you would need to be on top of things for its duration. You were responsible for the boys. Making sure they would get where they needed to be and were in tip-top shape to perform once the time came. You were also their translator since you spoke French. Easily, you fell into your rhythm of assistant manager. Which coincidentally helped you forget about the handsome boy walking next to you.

Once they were all settled in their rooms you breathed a little easier. One of the most stressful parts was done. Now, would be the time for organization, tomorrow would be rehearsals then free time for them in the evening. The next would be the actual gala, which would mean getting up very early, getting ready all day, performing on the night, and enjoying the after-parties. That would be the most draining day for you. Still, you couldn't help, but be excited at the prospect of the following days. You loved the adrenaline, you loved seeing the boys perform, and you loved to know in some way you were a part of their success.

For your first night you all decided to eat out as Felix and Hyunjin insisted on bringing you to a certain restaurant they peeked at earlier. You ended up eating delicious French cuisine until you were so full the walk home felt like a sports event. Unsurprisingly the boys collectively headed for their respective rooms as soon as they got to the hotel. The perspective of staying up a minute longer felt like torture, and they did need the rest you reasoned as you lightly pushed Changbin in his room. As for yourself, you took the time to answer a few emails and make sure the itinerary for the following days accounted for each possible scenario. Satisfied with yourself, and not feeling a tad bit tired, you decided to go on a little stroll around the luxurious hotel to end up sitting down by the pool your feet dangling in the warm water. The night was silent and there wasn't a single soul around. You breathed gratefully the French air, once again struggling to grasp the reality of where you were.

You were caught up in your thoughts when the sound of the pool's gate made you jump. Hands clutching your chest you looked at a startled Chan.

"Sorry! It's only me." He joined you by the poolside quickly dipping his legs in the water next to you with a satisfied groan.

"You're supposed to rest Chan." You lightly scolded him. Lord knows he was one of the boys who needed the most rest, although he was the one it eluded the most.

"I know, but I can't. I keep thinking about tomorrow. Everything needs to be perfect."

You sighed and looked at the ripples your soft movements created in the clear water. "Everything will be perfect. You focus on yourself, and make sure you are rested and having fun on that stage. Everything else is handled. I made sure any possible outcome has been covered. Nothing bad can happen."

He turned to look at you with a soft smile. "I know that we are in really good hands. We're really lucky to have you."

"Kiss ass," you muttered with a chuckle. You tried playing it down, but each word leaving his lips made a satisfied warmth spread in your cheeks.

"Hey, I'm serious!" he nudged your shoulder with his, attempting to make you smile again. He always wanted you to smile.

His words truly made you appreciated, but somehow your happiness couldn't be complete as a small voice in the back of your mind reminded you you were nothing special and he was probably saying all those things out of guilt. "You know you don't have to be this nice to me just because you missed my celebration night. It's okay Chan, I know you were suddenly inspired and needed to work on it. It's okay." All warmth disappeared from your cheeks as you once again focused on the water.

He looked at you with his mouth open. Your sudden declaration seemed to surprise him before it turned into something sour in his eyes. You didn't know it, but it reminded him horribly of what Felix had said.

"Y/n, I would never be nice to you just because I feel guilty. I do feel incredibly stupid for missing your big night and I will never apologize enough about it. But, I'm nice and like being nice to you because you are an amazing person who works very hard for us and who I admire a lot."

You kept staring silently at the water, unable to answer.

"And about your night that I missed because I am a horrible person. I want to make up for it by inviting you out tomorrow night with me. We can go eat in a good restaurant and I'll show you those spots I told you about." He looked at you as he talked, but you couldn't find it in yourself to look at him. "And I am NOT doing this out of guilt. You deserve to be celebrated every day, and this is my way to make up for it. And I would have loved to do this with you anyway, okay?"

"You have rehearsals all day today, you will need your rest," you muttered.

"Oh come on Y/n, everybody knows I’m a night owl anyway. And I promise we’ll come back early." He added with a little army salute.

You reflected on his proposition, torned between wanting to scream yes or refuse in order to protect your heart.

He searched for your gaze, softly calling your name until you couldn't keep your serious anymore and giggled.

"So, is that a yes?"

Your eyes meet his shining ones with a smile. "Yes."

He clapped his hands, satisfied and got up, lending you his hand. "Ready to get some rest now?"

You nodded and grabbed his strong hand. He took his time before releasing yours to open the gate and even then you felt the shadow of his hand on the small of your back.

Maybe this was a bad idea but in what other instance would you get the chance to spend precious time like this with the man you loved in one of the most beautiful cities in the world? So, even if this was going to break you, you decided you deserved to at least taste paradise once.

🏷️ list : @lovesunshinefelix @luvstaymin @jupire @nebugalaxy @drewsandsebastianswife @httpdwaekki

the best man - part I

your best friend's getting married, and you're the maid of honor. minho is the best man. you're just trying your best to not let him get under your skin. pt II

warnings: lee minho x she/her!reader

genre: fluff, friends to lovers

word count: 1.4k

one could say that lee minho was a thorn in your side, but he wasn’t enough for that. he’s maybe a bump. a small bump in the road you’ve been driving on, a constant presence but not enough to make a difference to your wheels if you drive over it. enough for you to notice but not enough for you to swerve to avoid. 

he’s friends with your friends, so naturally, he’s around a lot. ever since your best friend got engaged to his best friend, jisung, he’s been around even more. in a few short months he’s gone from someone you nod at from the bar at group outings to the person you bump shoulders with when wedding planning in a tiny kitchen. from a person who’s number you didn’t have saved in groupchats to having a personalized contact complete with emojis. with him as jisung’s best man and you as the maid of honor, you’ve frequently been on opposing sides of friendly arguments about the cake, the flowers, the music that should be played. you’re convinced that he disagrees with you just to rile you up, he’s never passionate about his side and always sways to what you and your friend want in the end, he just does it for the entertainment.

you wish you found it annoying instead of endearing. that would make things simpler.

but it was in planning their surprise bachelor-slash-bachelorette party (you knew those two would never be able to separate enough for an entire night) that you got to know him well. in between choosing the types of shots you want to serve and the perfect cheesy crowns for them to wear, you learn that he has three cats that he loves more than himself, he’s really sweet underneath his teasing exterior, and that he’s a gentleman that always opens doors for you and gives you his jacket when he sends you home at night after being there for longer than you planned for. he likes to cook and he’s a dancer who once had big dreams but found his true passion in teaching it. he likes to work out but complains about it every time and he’s kind of the biggest dork you’ve ever met.

he grows on you like moss, the healthy green squishy kind, slowly taking over your roots until he’s become a part of your day to day life. you’ve come to expect daily weather updates, selfies with his cats, and mindless banter from the time you wake up until the time your head hits your pillow at night.

the actual night of the party goes off without a hitch, with drinks flowing and sappy speeches that have you wiping your tears discreetly to not ruin your makeup. you’ve both curated the perfect playlist, invited only the essential people you know the almost-married couple would want there, and made an entire table of snacks that got devoured before you can blink. you meet minho’s eyes from across the room several times throughout the night, a hidden meaning you can’t place hiding in his gaze before he looks away every time. it leaves you with a feeling of longing that you don’t let yourself think about for too long. the maid of honor and the best man? that’s too cliche, even for you.

you don’t see him again until the day of the wedding, where you both leave your respective dressing rooms at the same time to get ready to walk down the aisle and take your places at the altar. 

“you clean up well,” you tease, running a finger down the lapel of his tuxedo. it’s midnight blue, the color that jisung has chosen to compliment the flushed pink of the bridesmaid’s dresses. it compliments his honeyed skin almost too well, the contrast making him look like he’s about to walk a red carpet instead of the off-white runner lining the wedding hall floor. the flower buttoned to his chest matches the ones in your bouquet. 

“it’s been known to happen from time to time,” his tone is teasing but his smile is soft as he takes you in, winking at you when you raise an eyebrow at him. “you don’t look so bad, yourself.”

you look down at your flowers with a small smile, still not knowing how to take his compliments after all these months. 

“shall we?” he holds his arm out to you and you take it, calming your nerves before stepping through the doors to the sea of people in the room. he walks you down the aisle, steps in line with yours despite his legs being longer, and it feels right, being there with him.

he drops you off at your designated spot and you’re glad; you’re not sure if you would have remembered where to stand otherwise. you’re both beaming as jisung walks down the aisle, steps a little too eager and smile a little too wide. it warms your heart how happy he is to be married to your best friend. the same best friend who next glides down the aisle in a show of practiced elegance, steps timed perfectly to the wedding march playing.

you meet eyes with minho once they’re situated, blown away again by him in the new warm lighting that he’s shrouded under. his hair is glinting in the afternoon sun, eyes sparkling, and his smile despite being on display for everyone feels like it’s just for you. you’re so distracted by him in his damn tuxedo that you almost miss when your friend starts her vows. by the time she’s done, both the bride and groom are nearly sobbing, and jisung has to choke out his own vows before dragging her into a watery kiss before the officiant can tell him to. the whole room breaks into laughter, softening into awh’s when he pulls back with a heart shaped smile. 

the rest of the day is a blur. you take photos, make speeches at the reception, change into comfortable shoes, eat the cake that’s just been cut, and by the time you finally sit down to watch the first dance you feel like you’ve been standing for days. is this what it’s like to get married? doesn’t seem like it’s worth the trouble.

“dance with me?” minho says, interrupting your internal monologue and making the smile return to your face. his hand is held out towards you, palm up, and you take it in yours without a second thought. a chance to dance with the most handsome guy in the room? no way you’re going to pass that up, even if your feet feel like they’re on fire.

he guides you to the dance floor, stopping a few feet from the happy couple and bumping his free fist against jisung’s shoulder before wrapping an arm around you. you twine your hands together behind his neck and smile at him.

“all this planning and i never learned how to slow dance,” you say, voice low as you try not to let the embarrassment wash over you. 

“don’t worry, darling,” he tugs you closer, the name he calls you bringing a flush to your cheeks. “i can lead you.”

and lead he does. he twirls you around the dance floor, the bottom of your dress swinging around your feet as he gracefully makes it look like you know what you’re doing. you let him move you, your limbs pliant as he sways your hips in his grip. the two of you somehow look like the most practiced couple there because of him.

the song switches to something faster and more upbeat, but he doesn’t let you go. in fact, he pulls you in even closer, whispering in your ear about how he loves the song before guiding you to dance with him again.

the night ends with the two of you in the hotel elevator, on the way up to your respective rooms on the same floor. without warning, his hand goes to hit the stop button and the elevator jerks to a still, making your heart beat race.

“what the hell?” you almost yell, too shocked to be mad. he moves into your space, placing warm hands on your cheeks.

“am i reading this wrong?” he whispers, eyes flickering between your own and your lips. it falls into place like jenga bricks, messy and out of your control but not completely unexpected - this attraction between you? he feels it too.

“no,” you whisper back, melting as he finally seals his lips against yours.

turns out the maid of honor with the best man isn’t too cliche after all.

--

part II

BANG CHAN ♡ HALL OF FAME GAYO DAEJEON SUMMER (240721) | © 방찬해

💛☁️🌵✨

When they call you clingy, so you distance yourself | Hyung Line

Warnings: Cursing

Pt2, Pt3 Maknaeline

(X)

BANGCHAN |

You walked into Chan’s studio, quietly shutting the door behind you, as to not startle him.

“Hey Chris, can we talk for a second?”

You watched as your boyfriend of a year and a half continued to type away, not acknowledging your question.

“Chris? Did you hear me?”

“Yes I heard you. I just didn't answer."

"Well, it would be nice for a little acknowledgment, I asked if we could talk." You state politely. You understood that Chan was stressed, but you believed it was basic courtesy to at least acknowledge someone - let alone your significant other - when they asked you a question.

"Well, I'm kind of busy at the moment."

"I understand it will only take two minutes ba-"

“Dammit Y/N! I'm busy right now can't you see?" He snaps. Turning towards you and showing you the screen of his laptop.

You open your mouth to speak and tell him just why you needed to talk to him at this very second but he interrupted you.

"When we first started dating, I get that you told me you were clingy. I also get that I told you I liked clingy. But my god, Y/N you're not just clingy you're fucking obsessive. And always at the wrong times! You want space when I actually have time. Yet you decide to stroll in here trying to start a damn conversation when you can clearly see I'm trying to play damage control from a fucking dumbass trainee thinking it was funny to mess with my tracks. I'm already stressed as fuck about that, yet I have you breathing down my neck like some obsessive stalker. Like for five minutes just leave me alone!"

You stiffened at Chan’s tone. It was very rare that Chan would ever raise his voice. He managed his frustrations very well and was aware of how sensitive you were so he was always careful about confrontation.

He turned around and had his back hunched over his laptop as he typed and clicked away furiously, unaware of the tears that were quickly springing to your eyes. You were frozen in place, your heart beating uncontrollably.

It took a minute before you were even able to take a breath.

You stood there long enough for Felix to come bursting through the door to come update Chan about something unimportant to the task at hand. The same task that he had snapped at you for interrupting.

And you think that what hurt most. The way the frown on his face was lessened when talking to the younger male and his cute chuckle even popped out once or twice.

You finally were able to pull yourself out of the studio, leaving behind the coat you had absentmindedly placed down out of habit when you had come in and opted to take your purse.

The air was brisk and had that dry smell it always gained before it snowed.

Your apartment was close to the studio, a 25-minute walk at most so you always opted to take a stroll when visiting Chan, but you were on a tight schedule so within a minute you were in a taxi heading home.

And just as quickly you were back in a taxi heading to the airport.

You knew it was petty of you to mute Chris's notifications. But the fact that he snapped at you was just the tip of the iceberg. You knew that once he calmed down, he would immediately be filled with guilt. And you would rather not have your phone being blown up by multiple people at once.

Are you headed to the airport?

You responded to your brother's message with a thumbs up and turned on your DND before the screen darkened with a click.

You glanced at your watch and sighed.

You'd be on a plane heading home in less than an hour and weren't even able to kiss Chris goodbye.

(xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx)

MINHO |

"You're clingy as hell." Minho mumbled under his breath, thinking you wouldn't hear. But oh did you hear.

"Lee Minho what did you just say?"

He let out a sharp breath and looked up from his phone. "I called you clingy." He stated boldly, his voice even yet loud enough to be heard by Hyunjin and Han who quickly scurried away to the other half of the suite.

"And what about me is so clingy?"

Minho chuckled sarcastically. "Oh I don't Y/N, do you want me to recap the entire day for you?"

You had joined the kids on their trip to Paris. While they had been here numerous times, this was your first time traveling here and due to the anxiety of being in a new place, you attached yourself to Minho's hip since it was your first day here.

You didn't intend to be overbearing, nor did you intend to be up his ass for the entire week and a half long trip, but you wanted to get used to the surroundings and you felt most comfortable doing that with your boyfriend. Yesterday being your first day you spent the entirety of it with Minho. You had noticed quickly how his excitement had turned into unease and straight up irritation after a while. It was a weird phase of emotions considering how happy he had been but you had amounted it to you accidentally taking a wrong turn and missing a fireworks show Minho had been talking about all day. You had come into his room early this morning to apologize, but instead were meant by an overly irritable boyfriend.

"It's because I've never been here before! Did you expect me to not to ask you to show me around?"

"Y/N there is a difference between a tour guide and a fucking babysitter. You pulled me along to everywhere you wanted to go. I had plans yesterday! Certain things that I was hoping to do. I made an entire schedule and everything, but just because you wouldn't agree to be toured around the city by Chan you ruined all of that. Then you spent the entire day just pulling me along. If you wanted someone to give you an overly extensive run down of everything and keep you company, why don't you ask someone closer to your personality like Jisung or Jeongin? I'm sure they'd love talking of the ears of all the local with you. Shit, you'd probably become some street show you three."

You sucked in your cheeks and took a breath.

"That was uncalled for, you have no need to bring anyone else into this discussion."

Minho chuckled sarcastically.

"Discussion? What is there to discuss? The amount of time I want you to leave me alone? Hell, why not the entire fucking trip?" He spat out.

"You're an ass Minho."

"Yeah well at least I'm not a pain in someone else's."

You felt your bottom lip start to tremble and your chin shake.

Don't cry. You'll just be a crybaby.

"And here come the water works." He groans as if he read your mind, getting up from his bed and heading towards the room where the rest of the guys were probably trying to keep occupied as to not hear your arguing.

"So what? You're just gonna walk away?" You call out.

"YOU'RE PROVING MY FUCKING POINT!" He shouted, finally at his breaking point. "It was a mistake asking you to come on this trip." He said turning around one final time and opening the door to the other side of the suite. "I never should have asked."

"Well you know what, maybe this trip isn't the only thing you should have never asked about. And I'm starting to realize that maybe it's not the only thing I never should have said yes to." You spit out turning on your heel and slamming the door.

You furiously wiped at the tears that were sticking to your face and threw your hood up over your head as you headed to your room to contemplate what would become of you two now.

(xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx)

CHANGBIN |

It was irritating to you the way Changbin was interacting with the female barista. And the irritation must have shown on your face because when he handed you your iced latte, he raised an eyebrow.

"Is everything okay jagiya?"

You sighed as you guys stepped out the shop and started making your way back towards the studio. Changbin had been really busy the last couple of weeks with preparing for a special release and collabing with a few other groups, so you hadn't been able to be around your boyfriend as often as you'd like. So you had agreed on meeting during his lunch every other day, even if the times varied.

"You just seemed really flirty with that barista." You mumbled. "It was obvious she was into you too. I mean who wouldn't you're the Seo Changbin." You giggled elbowing him playfully. You pulled out your phone to make sure there was enough time for you to walk Changbin back or if you would have to take an Uber. You nodded at the time and swiped away a few notifications from Minho.

You expected Changbin to laugh or reassure you like he usually did when you brought up his flirty habits. Instead he snorted into his cup as he took a sip of the dark liquid.

"Jealous much?"

You laughed a little. "Why would I be jealous? She isn't the one who has been dating you for three years." You said hip bumping him, but he stepped away from you rather brashly.

"Well it seems like you are because you have to bring up me and my so called flirting ever single time I talk to anyone of the female species."

"Bin it was just a joke-"

"Well I'm not joking when I say you're acting clingy as fuck." His tone was way off and he seemed to realize the shit he was setting himself up to be put in because he stopped mid stride and turned around to you with an agitated sigh.

"Do you...I don't know want to run that by me again?" You ask, firming your stance.

"God, Y/N, don't make this a big thing. Its just been a day-"

"No, no. You don't get to use that excuse Changbin. We're supposed to talk through these things. You don't just get to say something like that and then act like you didn't."

You guys stood at an impasse for a moment until he spoke up rolling his eyes.

"Fine. I think you're being clingy." He said simple. "Jealousy falls under clinginess and I think you're being jealous so therefore you are being clingy."

"Changbin it was a fucking joke! You've never reacted this way before so I don't know why you're acting this way now!"

Changbin just rolled his eyes and continued in the direction of the studio.

"Seo Changbin, where are you going?"

"To work Y/N. You know, maybe if you actually picked up a more stable job then you wouldn't have as much time to be up my ass and exaggerating about things that aren't things you should be butt hurt about."

You stiffened at Changbin's low blow and took a breath.

"We need to fix this before it gets out of hand." You grit out.

"Well maybe I don't want to fix this." He looked at his watch. "I'm late now so why don't you just drink your latte and go home to cool off."

The condescending voice Changbin was using sent you over the edge. You were angry to the point of tears.

You chucked your nearly full iced latte at him. It hit his chest with a thud, and the coffee made a rather pretty pattern on his pristine white shirt.

"Maybe that'll help you cool yourself off. Fuck you Changbin." You pushed past him and waved down the closest taxi.

Your phone was buzzing in your pocket and you pulled it out.

"Hey, are you and Changbin on your way back? I need to go over some choreography and we're filming tiktoks right when he gets back."

You did the best you could to keep your voice level when responding to Minho.

"He's on his way back now. But you need to get him a new shirt because being the dumbass he is he likes to make a mess of perfectly good things."

(xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx)

HYUNJIN|

You were never very happy having to attend events with Hyunjin. It wasn't that you didn't like spending time with him, or in turn spending time with the guys events.

It was just you felt insecure being the plus one of someone like Hyunjin.

It was no secret to anyone how those who knew and perceived Hwang Hyunjin's existence thought of him.

He had a beauty that rivaled any masterpiece that had ever been painted. The elegance of a tiger lily with the face of an angel.

You knew of many people who would jump at the opportunity to be with Hyunjin. For the past 11 months you had been with him you had your fair share of run ins with crazy fans or pop stars of the like.

Once your relationship had gone public a month ago you found yourself being compared to the female idols in the industry even more than you has expected.

It seemed to be the general consensus that not many people viewed you as "beautiful enough" to be with someone like Hyunjin.

You didn't take it to heart because you decided to have the outlook of nobody being beautiful enough for Hyunjin - let alone the people writing those hateful comments considering they were most likely delusional pre-teens who made the most out of pocket edits and were in desperate need of some grass groping.

But after a month it was starting to get to you slightly. Especially as you had come across one of those edits, since you had been tagged in it after someone found your personal account.

The amount of hate messages were starting to get to change your perception on things. Because the more you were hearing it the more you were seeing and believeing it.

"Jinnie do you think that my shoulders look weird in this dress?" You walked into your living room where Hyunjin was sitting. He looked up and a bright smile showed on his face.

"I think you look beautiful jagiya!" He said standing up. He looked other worldly in his tuxedo.

"And my hair?"

"Perfect." He said placing a kiss on your forehead. "We have to leave now if we want to make it on time. Or else I would look at you all night."

By the time you had been at the event for thirty minutes you already wanted to go home. You felt like the ugliest person there, and you couldn't help but feel the eyes of many people on you.

Ever couple of minutes you found yourself looking for Hyunjin's reassurance.

"Does my stomach look bloated?"

"Is my makeup fine?"

"Can you see the pimple on my chin?"

"Are my nails okay?"

"Do I look ugly?"

"Should I make my hair look like hers next time?

Hyunjin was reassuring you, but after the third or fourth questioning of the night his answers became generic.

When he was talking to an idol and his significant other you couldn't help but start comparing yourself to her. She was so pretty.

"Hyunjin should I run home and change?" You asked quietly in English. You were doing your best to learn Korean so it would be easier to communicate with Hyunjin's parents when the time came that your families were to get closer. You wanted it to be a surprise when the time came, because you knew how much Hyunjin wanted you to get along with his family, when when the time came to meet them - he wanted to get along with your family.

"You're girlfriend is pretty clingy isn't she?" The other idol asked in his native language, assuming you didn't speak korean because of your fluency in english.

"Yeah she is extremely clingy." Hyunjin replied. "Might be the clingiest girl I've ever met."

You looked at the other idols girlfriend and she made a face, and then laughed.

"You can tell she is a foreigner by the way she acts. No one is ever as clingy as foreign partners." She joked and all three of them were laughing.

Well there is the hundredth insecurity to list.

You looked at them and tried to control your facial expressions.

"We were just telling him that you are so adorable." The girl told you.

You chuckled uncomfortably and looked over at Hyunjin. He smiled and blinked cutely at you.

You smiled back as Hyunjin turned towards the couple again to continue his conversation.

And all you could do was smile back as you pretended to not understand the words Hyunjin didn’t even realize hurt you.

Felix “ATE” Jacket MAKING FILM ft. Jilix

i can't handle how cute my baby is 😭😭😩