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Imagine waking chan up by giving him head and him praising you in his raspy morning voice calling you his pretty girl or good girl 😔

ohmygod?????you're trying to end me

18+mdni

You peel the covers back the slightest bit, exposing the rest of his torso. His hair is tousled onto the bed, the white sheet pristine beneath his skin.

He looks like an angel, genuinely glowing from within. His hips are exposed, he's still fully disrobed from last night's shenanigans. He's still coursing through your veins, his cum still inside you from the night before.

You drag your lips softly across his abs, careful not to wake him just yet. His body covers with goosebumps as you fully peel the sheet off of him. The light is barely giving light to the room, but enough to lead you to his every ridged vein in his cock.

Pressing your lips to the tip of his cock, you feel it come alive. The skin tightening, the girth filling out with every kiss you place to it. You run your fingers up his thigh gently feeling his hips swivel the tiniest bit from the friction. He's standing tall now, your eyes glowing with need.

You take him all in your mouth, feeling your cheeks hollow out and your throat burn with each deep stroke you take.

Your tongue swirls around his tip before sliding down to his balls, cupping them with your hands as you wrap your lips around them gently.

Coming back up, you watch his face twist slightly, his brow furrowing. A little moan escaping him.

"Channie, wake up baby" you whisper, letting your saliva coat your hand as you pump his length.

"Channie you're leaking, m'know you wanna cum baby."

His tip is deep burgundy and burning to explode.

"Come on baby, let me taste you," you breathe.

His cock twitches in your mouth as he suddenly is stirred awake.

"W-what? o-oh fuck" his eyes are glassy, his voice a deep rasp coated with sleep.

"I missed you Channie, needed you awake," you say between sucks.

He strokes a bundle of your hair as his sleepy eyes watch you.

"Such a pretty girl, for me, so perfect, just like that babygirl," he says it with fervor, his tongue looping his lips.

You send him deeper into your mouth, his heavy tip hitting your throat. You gag on his length and he moans, twisting his fingers through your hair.

"Baby y-you know if you do that m'gonna cum."

With a shit-eating grin masked with his cock in your mouth, you take more of him in your mouth, gagging.

"Oh fuck m'gonna cum, 'm f-fucking c-cummi-"

He's cut off by a raspy moan, hips bucking, as he spurts ropes of warm cum into your mouth. His cum hits the back of your throat as his body jerks.

You swallow all of him, climbing up his body.

"Goodmorning baby," you say as he watches you in awe.

"Fuck babygirl I thought that was a dream," he says, sitting up.

He captures your mouth in his, flipping you onto your back.

He's hovered over your naked frame, a smirk plastered on his gorgeous face as he moves down your body.

"Babygirl allow me to return the favor hm?" his nose brushes your clit as he delves in.

pieces of you

single dad!chan. x fem!reader

genre : neighbors!au. fluff. angst. slow burn. mutual pining. 8.7k wc

summary : In which you and chan are each other's missing pieces. Alternatively, Chris and his daughter come knocking at your apartment asking for flour, and he's no longer embarrassed when you open the door.

a.n. : my chris best girl dad agenda is going strong!!!!!! my second fic for the winter falls collab with my writer xi hehe i hope you will all enjoy reading!! feedback is highly appreciated 🤍 the song chris will write for sowon is light by sleeping at last, highly recommend listening to it!!

winter falls masterlist.

i. 

“I can’t believe you’re making me do this.”

“Shh, daddy smile.”

Soft murmurs linger just beyond your door, elusive words that could easily be dismissed as figments of your imagination. However, any doubt in your mind dissipates with three resounding knocks, jolting you from your momentary contemplation. 

A reluctant groan escapes you as you glance down at your attire—a loosely hanging oversized hoodie, a testament to the numerous times it has been tugged down, and a pair of pajama pants whose matching top has mysteriously vanished. Clearly, you don't feel presentable enough to welcome anyone at this late hour. So, you remain motionless, futilely lowering the TV volume in hopes that whoever's behind the door will just continue with their night. But the knocks persist against your wish, so, with a resigned sigh, you rise from your seat, your blanket cascading to the ground in a soft descent.

“What–” the words dissolve in your mouth like a sweet nectar as you open the door, your eyes beholding no one in your periphery. A slight tug at your pants draws your attention downward, only to find the most adorable child your eyes have ever laid on. She's clad in Rapunzel-themed pajamas, wolf slippers bumping into your plain ones, and, to your surprise, a whisk cradled in her small hand. 

“Hey there,” your voice softens as you crouch to meet her warm gaze. You find an innocent happiness gleaming in her eyes, a radiant spark shining even beneath the corridor's muted light. Two dimples adorn her cheeks as she smiles at you. 

“Hi, my dad wants to tell you something,” she says, pointing with her whisk to the very end of the hallway. You crane your neck, trying to catch a glimpse of the elusive figure. 

“Your dad?”

“Mm. He’s a bit shy, that’s why he’s hiding,” she confides in a whisper. But, despite her earnest attempt, her words still resound loudly in the vacant space, causing giggles to spill out of your mouth. 

“And you aren’t shy?” you inquire, tilting your head. 

“Nu-uh,” she shakes her head with conviction as someone emerges behind her. She instinctively wraps an arm around their leg, nestling her cheek against their thigh. 

She isn't shy because she feels protected.

You rise from your place, eyes locking with a familiar shade of brown. Only these hold a mesmerizing quality to them making your very breath catch in your throat. Kindness pours from his gaze as it travels down your face, a sentiment that further materializes as delicate smile lines stitch around the corner of his eyes.  

He’s beautiful. 

Your eyes trail down to two pairs of dimples, mirroring the ones of his daughter perfectly. She is his living portrait, sharing his eyes, lips, and smile. Yet, his cheeks blush in a hue she does not possess, while his left hand fiddles with his earlobe, in an unspoken, timid gesture. For some odd reason, it pierces straight through your heart.

“Sorry for bothering you,” a smooth Australian accent rolls off his tongue, similar to rich butter spread on warm bread- it infuses your being with tingles pulsating from the base of your toes. You suddenly no longer miss your blanket.

“I'm your next-door neighbor. We were just making cookies and we realized we actually  don’t have flour,” he explains, a bashful smile imprinted onto his lips. 

“You didn’t check beforehand?” you ask, laughter tinting your voice. 

“I forgot,” he admits, but his tone sounds almost sad as if beating himself over it. A fleeting shadow veils his face briefly, dissipating like a passing cloud grazing the sun.

“Can we borrow some from you? I told Sowon that we could go to the store but she said it’s too cold out,” he asks, his hand resting on his daughter’s shoulder soothingly. 

“It is too cold out,” you agree with a frown, looking down at Sowon to which she smiles brightly, happy to have your support. 

“And of course, I'll bring you flour. Don’t worry about it. Do you want to come in meanwhile?”

“It's okay, we'll wait here. Don’t want to intrude.” 

“Thank you!” Sowon beams, her missing tooth in full display. 

“Yeah, thank you so much…” he trails out, tilting his head as if to silently inquire about your name.

“Yn. And you?”

“Chris.”

“Nice to meet you, Chris,” you smile, shaking his extended hand. His fingers wrap around your palm, and it feels as if you’re grasping thunder, crackling with an electricity that your eyes can’t behold, yet your soul does, suddenly illuminated from within. 

Your smile grows as you detach yourself from his hold, before bending forward to bop Sowon’s nose. “And nice to meet you too Rapunzel.” 

Your words make her hide behind her father’s leg, peeking out slightly to look at you. 

“See I'm not the only one who gets shy,” Chan chuckles, and Sowon whines in complaint, further burying her face in her dad’s grey sweatpants. 

Adorable, so much it stirs a long-forgotten melancholy within your being. 

“She gets a pass, she's still young, right Sowon?”

“Are you calling me old then?” Chan fakes outrage, bringing one hand to his chest while the other cradles Sowon’s back. 

“Old enough to forget about flour,” you wink and he laughs, looking down at your slippers. 

“Touché.” 

A few minutes go by before you come back, a recipient full of flour in your hands. The sight before you makes you pause in your tracks– Chris, leaning against the wall, Sowon propped on his hip, her arms loosely hanging around his neck, her eyes closed. 

“Did she…” you whisper and he turns to you. 

“Yeah, fell asleep,” he smiles fondly, tucking a few strands of her hair behind the curve of her ear. “She’ll be disappointed when she wakes up to no cookies. She wanted us to have a baking holiday tradition.”

“You don’t know how to make them?” 

“No, I was counting on a six-year-old to assist me,” he chuckles quietly, prompting a snort from you. 

“Well, keep the flour, in case you need it again.” 

“Thank you, Yn,” he grins, the smile taking over his entire face, grabbing the recipient from you. 

“You’re welcome Chris,” you say, as you both linger around the door still, not making any attempt to move. 

Your eyes refuse to peel away from his, as if there were a magnetic force drawing you to him, telling you that your gaze belonged to rest on him.

“Uhm,” he clears his throat, leaning away from the wall. “I'll get going.”

“Yeah, sleep well, Chris.”

“Thank you,” he smiles before turning around. 

An idea brews in your head, a germ sprouted by the clear adoration in which Sowon gazed at her dad, and the disappointment in his face as he said he would no longer be making cookies. Had you wished to dig a little deeper, you would’ve also found a long-buried feeling of a little girl who would have loved holiday traditions as well. You close the door before heading straight to your kitchen. 

One hour later 

You knock softly on Chris’ door, fidgeting from one foot to another. You almost retract back to your apartment after your fourth knock, when the door finally opens, Chris coming into your line of sight. 

“Hi,” you greet, hands behind your back. 

“Hey,” he smiles, leaning his arm on the doorway, right above your head. He tilts his head to the side, silently wondering what you want. The words dissolve in your mouth at the way his eyes fixate on you as if trying to peer behind your irises onto your mind. 

“Cookies,” you bring the plate before him, as his eyes grow wide, an incredulous smile drawn on his lips. 

“You made them?” 

“Yeah, didn't want Sowon to be disappointed,” you shrug and his eyes grow wild, racking all over your face in disbelief. 

“You didn't have to do this,” he finally says, tone softening, syllables ringing like a sweet sonnet in your ears. 

“I know. I wanted to. and I'm a baker so making cookies comes easily to me, don't worry about it,” you shrug sheepishly, biting your lower lip slightly. You felt scrutinized by him in ways you haven't felt before. 

“Thank you, Yn, I don’t even know what to say,” he says, his smile resembling a beam of light. A surge of pride courses through you at managing to bring it forth. 

“No need to say anything. I hope I didn't wake you up,” you smile sheepishly and he shakes his head. 

“No, I- I was working in my studio and Sowon is asleep. It's just us two. Always has been,” he adds, tone slightly changing, air growing heavier between you both. It's just them two. 

“Studio?” you inquire, hoping to dispel the tension latching around you both. 

“I'm a music producer,” he clarifies. “I made a studio here so I could stay the night with Sowon.” 

“I'm sure she appreciates that,” you say as you hand the plate to him. His fingertips brush against your own, and a slight electricity courses through you at the touch, the hallway suddenly brighter from the fireworks ricocheting off of you both.

“I…. I'll get going.”

“Yeah, yeah, don't want to take more of your time.”

“I'll see you around.” 

“Yeah, I'll see you,” he says, words not ringing carelessly into the air, sounding more like a promise. He'll see you, he'll make sure of it. 

ii. 

“Can you wait!” a voice echoes near the building entrance, and you prevent the elevator doors from closing as hurried steps near you. 

You recognize the voice easily by the light tingles running down your spine, the Australian accent shooting straight through your heart. Its owner materializes, Chris— leather jacket hugging his muscles snuggly, black t-shirt tucked into a pair of blue jeans, cap nestled on his head, rebellious strands of ebony hair peeking behind it.

You find the breath knocked out of you once again at his sight. He's beautiful, even more so in broad daylight, where every feature of his comes to life, beckoning, demanding your sole attention. 

“Hey, Yn,” he smiles in delight, uttering your name in a familiarity that infuses your being with warmth. Even though you've only talked once, two days ago. 

“Hey, Chris,” you greet back, pressing the fourth elevator button again. you face the mirror to find Chris already looking at you, his eyes instantly locking with yours. 

“The cookies were good,” he smiles softly and you grin. “I'm glad you think so.” 

“Where is your bakery? I need to taste more of your baking.” 

The butterflies in your stomach tone down at his words, your attraction momentarily forgotten as gratitude coats your heart instead.

“I can text you the address?” you propose. 

“Yeah, here,” he takes out his phone, a picture of him and Sowon set as his lock screen— their cheeks are pressed tightly to one another, messily done eyeliner on both their eyes. you giggle to yourself as you grab the device.

“Cute picture,” you muse and he brings an arm to his neck, scratching the side of it timidly. 

“She insists on trying her makeup on me.” 

“She makes you look better,” you giggle and he rolls his eyes, tongue poking against his cheek. 

“She wants to become a stylist,” he explains, as the elevator doors open. He lets you out first, arm stretched forward.

“I find her passion really cute so I buy her anything she asks for,” he shrugs and you chuckle, pointing to the bag of pink ribbons he is carrying. 

“Let me guess, she wants to use these on you?”

“Yeah. She also said that I quote ‘need to learn new hairstyles because her friends always come to class with intricate braids, and she can't go to class with a simple one.’” He repeats, tone growing slightly high-pitched as he mimics his daughter's words. Yet, the fond smile on his face is louder, screaming of his love for her. 

“She has you wrapped around your finger,” you muse, leaning against your door. The keys in your bag are long forgotten. 

“She can be very scary for such a little girl.” 

“What does she threaten you with?” you ask, feigning horror. 

“No goodnight kisses,” he whispers, as if scared she'd hear him beyond the wooden door. 

“Torture,” you gasp, placing your hand on his shoulder reassuringly. Yet, the smiles slip out of your face instantly. Was it normal for clothes to dissolve under your touch, layers of cotton and leather doing nothing to stop the warmth of his skin from seeping through you? Was it normal to be so affected by such an innocent touch? 

“Uhm,” you clear your throat, “I can help you. with her hair, I mean.” 

“You don't have to. I already took too much from your time with the cookies,” he seems truly apologetic, his tone sobering as if despising others doing things for him. You see yourself in him, in the way he wants to carry the world’s burden on his shoulders. It is a reflection you wish to mend. 

“I don't mind, I remember feeling jealous of the other girls in my school so I made myself learn all the braids.” 

And then you see his gratefulness, the twinkle in his eyes that you can only grasp for a millisecond before they disappear into moon crescents. Happiness looks grand on him, overtaking his entire face, brightening his features with a glow too ethereal to be of mankind, as if they were carved to translate joy. You find yourself willing to give up more of your time to see it.

“Thank you,” he breathes out and you nod, a grin taking over your face as well. 

“You’re welcome. Let me just change my clothes.” 

☃︎⋆꙳•❅

“And then, you pull the right strand all over to the middle one. Then you repeat, this way the ribbon is braided into the hair,” you explain to a very concentrated Chris, his eyebrows furrowed as he follows your movements. 

“It looks easy when you do it,” he frowns and you giggle, handing the mirror to Sowon so she'd be able to look at her hair. 

“Do you like it,” you ask, a tad apprehensive and she beams, dimples that almost swallow her chubby cheeks surging forth. 

“Pretty!” she exclaims and you giggle, bopping her nose. “You are pretty.”

“And you are pretty too. right, daddy?”

You turn back to find Chris watching you, a smile so fond on his face that it renders your insides putty, coats your cheek in the palest shade of pink.

“Very much so,” he says, tone quieter, his eyes never leaving yours. 

Sowon suddenly climbs on her dad’s lap, star and moon stickers in hand. She places them all over his face, and he sits there diligently, arms wrapped around her midriff so she won't slip away. Every carefully placed sticker is punctuated by a soft gasp from him and a small giggle from her. You could feel the love radiating from both of them, a feeling so strong it made your heart twist in your chest. 

Were there red neon exits you weren’t aware of in your being? Ones through which love trickled away all these years ago? Were the spaces between your fingers carved to hold someone’s hand, or to make everything you've ever wanted slip from your grasp?

“What do you think?” Sowon startles you and you force a smile on your face, willing the heaviness in your heart to dissipate. There were questions you'd never find the answers to, you had to make peace with that.

“I love it!” you grin and Sowon nods, satisfied. You look down at your lap as Chris fixates his eyes on you, a worried crease growing between his eyebrows. 

“Fun is over, you need to do your homework, Miss Bang,” he scolds and you snort, as Sowon rolls her eyes slightly. 

“Did you just roll your eyes at me?” he fakes offense and you giggle as Sowon huffs slightly. “Dad, I told you I have no homework. I already did it with uncle Felix.” 

“Oh, right,” he deflates slightly before brightening up once again, “then, you should put away all these hairbrushes and ribbons, okay?”

“Will you watch a movie later with me?”

“Of course, baby.”

“Okay then,” she grins, quickly standing up to start putting away her things. you smile, getting up your turn to leave. Chris understands and stands with you on cue. 

“You can stay and watch the movie with us.”

“It's okay, I have some things to work on,” you turn around, but then you feel his fingers wrapping around your wrist, stopping you in your tracks. 

“Are you okay?” he asks, hand still burning straight through your skin, igniting a million nerve ends with a simple touch. You avoid his eyes, looking down at the ground. It seems to be response enough for him. 

“We’re conditioned to say yes even when we aren’t, right?” he speaks softly, his words travel through your veins in a rapid course against the current of your blood— which one will reach your heart first and flood it? 

Your facade cracks. His voice wins. 

“So, you don't have to reply now,” his thumb swipes once across your pulse. “But I'll be here if you ever wish to tell the truth.” 

iii.

You’ve grown exceptionally fond of Chris in the span of mere months, more than you would like to admit to yourself. It was an easy task, as natural as the current of a waterfall. Yet, you did not plan for it, for a new emotion to settle on top of your lungs, to make you more aware of your heart and how it beats, slightly faster, around Chris. But it happened serendipitously, against all odds, when he knocked on your door at 10 p.m. asking for salt.

“Should I start buying groceries for you?” you joked, and it took Chris a millisecond longer to respond, his gaze wandering across your face, as if discovering the world’s eighth wonder, hidden in plain sight all these years. 

“For my defense, I have a daughter that likes experimenting with cooking,” he smiled, and you raised an eyebrow at him. 

“Just with salt?”

“She added four teaspoons of it in an omelet. Then forced me to eat it because I always tell her food shouldn't go to waste,” he shudders at the memory and you chuckle loudly. 

Chris knocks on the doors of your heart, once.

It happened when you spotted a cockroach the size of your palm on your bedroom wall. You would’ve killed it, you were going to, except it started flying towards you and you let out a loud shriek you didn’t know your vocal chords were capable of conjuring. So, you called Chris. 

“Can you please come over,” you murmured, crouching near the entrance door, a pair of slippers in your hand.

“Why are you whispering? are you okay?” he sounded worried, and you heard the turning of a lock as he opened the door to his apartment. He didn’t ask questions, instantly coming to your aid. A sudden urge to weep filled your being at his gesture. 

“There is a cockroach. a flying one,” you precised, horror dripping from your tongue and his laugh flooded your ear, tiny squeaks that made your hold on the slipper grow limp. 

“I'm from Australia,” he knocked on your door, and you stood up promptly. “I've seen worse,” he said once you finally opened it, his eyes softening incredibly when they met yours. 

He did kill the cockroach, by spraying your insect repellent enough times to asphyxiate you too. “I don't think I can sleep in there tonight,” you sighed, gulping down ice cold water, “why does it feel like we went through war?” 

“We? You were behind my back all the time.”

 “I was cheering you on, from afar. Spiritually.”

 “I can’t believe a cockroach scares you this much.”

 “You literally screamed when it flied towards you too.”

 “I didn't scream! I made a very manly, non-terrified sound.”

 “Mm, sure,” you giggled, voice softening at the blushing of the tip of his ears. Chris didn't have to force the door down to your heart, you willingly opened it for him. 

And after that, it was a race to find the silliest excuses to see one another. Chris suddenly taking up an inkling for baking, you manifesting a newfound interest in music, Sowon needing her makeup done for a dance, Chris visiting you in your bakery, Sowon craving your cookies and you teaching her the recipe, Chris knocking on your door and you knocking on his. The same giddy smiles on your faces as you usher each other in. And it always, always ending with a movie night. 

“Let's watch Tangled,” Sowon exclaims, clapping her hands excitedly. 

“Baby, we watched this movie for the past…” he looks at you for support. “Three,” you whisper, a bashful smile on your face. “Yeah, for the past three movie nights,” he whines slightly.

“But I love it,” she says, her pout morphing into a huge grin. “Again! Again! Again!”

“Fine,” he concedes, mouthing “save me,” from afar to you. You giggle softly while Sowon cozies up to your side, your arm naturally draping across her body while her legs stretch atop Chris’ lap, naturally, as if having you both by her side was the way things have always been. The only reality she’s ever known.

It is a fleeting fifty minutes as the three of you watch the movie, Sowon reciting excitedly the lines that she seems to remember. But then the quiet is replaced by her soft snores, her body growing light against you.

“She fell asleep,” you whisper, tapping Chris’ shoulder to catch his attention. He tilts his head to the side, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips as his eyes land on his daughter. 

“I'm sorry you have to watch the same movie every time,” he says apologetically and you shake your head. 

“I don't mind. Tangled is a good movie.” 

“Are you here just because of the movie?” he smiles, dimples peeking through. The juxtaposition between the weight of his words and the soft expression on his face makes a buzzing warmth spread through you. He’s cold and hot, in and out, yours but not. 

“What do you want me to be here for?” you throw back, squeezing his shoulder slightly. 

“The company.”

“I do find Sowon entertaining.”

“Just her?” he pouts and you giggle, tipping your head back. 

“And you too, I suppose, by extension.”

“By extension, mm,” he hums, as he gathers Sowon in his arms, freeing her from your hold. “Then I guess I shouldn't come visit you in your bakery anymore. Since you only enjoy my presence by extension.”

“So sassy,” you shout-whisper as you both walk to Sowon's bedroom, “I like your company too, idiot.” 

“Yeah?” he turns back to look at you, tone a tad bit too hopeful. He doesn’t care that he sounds eager for your approval, not when he feels as if he can only truly breathe when you're near. 

“Yeah, Chris, I really do,” you speak earnestly, and Chris bites his lower lip slightly, suddenly overwhelmed by the gentleness of your tone. Your eyes follow his action instantly. 

He lowers Sowon gently onto the bed and she stirs awake, blinking repeatedly at the both of you. “Yn,” she calls out quietly once her eyes land on yours and you kneel before her bed. Chris watches from the door entrance as Sowon cups her hand near your ear, before whispering something to you. He notices your body stiffening, your gaze fleeting to him before you relax, pressing a kiss to her cheek. 

He wishes he could freeze time, stitch this moment into his eyelids until it is the only thing he sees when he goes to sleep. Loneliness is too big of an enemy for one person to fight off, but it seems more harmless when you are near. 

Chris sees you right here, every night, not forcing your place into his family, but falling seamlessly into place. Perhaps you were the missing piece that’ll soothe the burn in his heart. Perhaps he’d let you in, even as fear paralyzes his being at the mere thought of asking you to stay. 

One week later. 

You've grown used to the knocks on your door at ungodly hours of the night, Chris seeking your company each time you both fail to fall asleep. Except this time, there is a chilling premonition in your heart as you walk to your home’s entrance, anxiety coiling like a steel ball in your throat. 

"What’s wrong?" you ask upon opening the door, locking eyes with Chris's bloodshot gaze.

“Sowon,” he heaves, tone laden with fear, so different from how he usually pronounces her name. The syllables pierce through your heart like an arrowhead dipped in alarm. 

"Sowon?" you question, peering behind him to his slightly ajar apartment door.

"Yes, she has a high fever, and it won’t come down. I tried everything, and I-I don’t know what to do anymore. She’s shaking, but I can’t—" He trembles, his quivers akin to delicate chinaware on the precipice of an earthquake, poised to shatter at your feet. You'd plunge to the ground first, anything to soften his impending collapse.  

“It’s okay,” you soothe, your voice soft as you grasp his wrist. “Let’s go see her, okay?”

“It's her first time being this sick,” he whispers, clearly distraught, one hand running through his freshly dyed blonde hair. 

“It's okay. Don’t panic, it happens. Did you give her medicine?”

“Yes, a few minutes ago,” he replies as you guide him towards her room.

“Good, it'll start working soon,” you reassure, opening the door and crouching before Sowon.

“Hey, Rapunzel," you coo softly, and Sowon attempts to muster a smile. Her cheeks flush, eyes dim like withered petals.

“How are you feeling?” you ask, pressing your hand to her feverish forehead. You cast a wary glance at Chan, who's anxiously biting his thumb.

“Cold,” she whispers, and you nod, peeling off her blanket. “I know you are, but you have a high fever. We need to let it cool down, okay?”

“I-I’m shaking,” Sowon sighs, lower lip protruding and trembling, both from the iciness clawing at her frail being, and the tears welling in her waterline, like a cup on the brink of overflowing. 

“Shh, don't cry. It will pass, it's okay,” you murmur soothingly, cradling her face on your lap, gently moving damp strands of her hair behind her ear.

"Chris, can you bring me a towel and a bowl with cold water?" you ask softly, and the man startles, painfully peeling his eyes away from his daughter, as if doing so would consign her to a dark fate.

"Sure. Sure," he repeats, scurrying out of the room.

Sowon buries her cheek in your thigh, small hands clinging tightly to yours. You tie her hair up into a loose bun as Chan hurriedly comes back, a bassinet in his hand.

"Thank you," you smile, as he kneels beside the bed, his hand resting on Someone's knee gently.

“Hey sweetheart,” he coos softly, and Sowon blinks at him, light spilling over her face. 

“Hey daddy,” she replies as you dip the towel into the water, before squeezing the fabric to remove any liquid excess. 

“You're being so strong. I love you so much my pretty girl,” he says, bringing her small hand to rest upon his cheek, bestowing a gentle kiss on her palm. 

The moment feels so intimate, so tender, that you almost feel like an intruder. You imagine this is what thorns on roses must feel like, so out of place amid delicate petals and stems. 

“I love you too,” she grins, and you remain silent, diligently wiping her face and neck with the dampened towel. You soon lose track of the number of times you've repeated this motion, but Sowon’s eyes are now closed and her body is no longer trembling. 

You rest your palm upon her forehead, a sigh of relief escaping your body as you realize that her fever has gone down noticeably- the medicine finally taking effect.

“It's better now,” you smile reassuringly and Chris’s eyes widen, irises shaking as he looks back to his daughter. 

“Will she be okay?” 

“She will be. She just needs to sleep a bit.” 

“Okay, thank you.” 

“Can we prepare her something to eat meanwhile?” 

“Mm,” he absentmindedly nods, his fingers trailing down Sowon’s features delicately, resting upon her round cheeks. 

"She looks just like you," you softly smile.

"I know," he admits, not with pride but in surrender, as if his reflection was nothing but a cursed fate. His voice tastes like ocean water, salty, acid, suffocating.

“Chris…” you trail off and he shakes his head, abruptly standing up. 

“Let's make her chicken noodle soup. She loves it,” he says and you nod. A ticking bomb resides in his veins, devoid of a countdown, leaving you unsure of when he'll finally explode. 

You get your answer soon after—it takes two minutes and thirty-three seconds for the first tear to roll down Chris’s cheek. You spot it as you retrieve carrots from the fridge, averting your gaze as Chan angrily wipes it away.

A few seconds later, five tears follow the same agonizing trail, and now the knife is shaking in Chris’s hands. He squeezes his eyes shut as if frustrated by his pain, by the emotions escaping through the cracks in his heart.

You stay silent, bringing the water to a simmer.

The clank of metal against the counter snaps your attention, and you see Chris with his head lowered down, his hands tightly clutching the counter.

Your tongue moves before you can order it to speak. 

"Chris," you call out, your hand finding its place on his back. An ugly sob escapes his lips, a raw cry unearthed from the depths of the soil where he buried his feelings, never allowing himself the grace of grieving, then moving on. 

“I'm a horrible father,” he utters so brokenly as if this idea were cemented into his head, woven into every thought of himself—an adjective that lingers like a phantom each time Sowon calls him dad.

“You're not, what are you saying?” you gently turn him around so he'd face you. But his eyes remain downcast, as if ashamed to meet your gaze. 

“I didn't know what to do. I panicked. I-I wasn't enough to help her.”

“It's okay, you can't know everything, you are trying your best-”

“No, no, no, it's not just about this!” he snaps,  despair clinging to his eyes as he finally looks at you. “It’s hard. It’s so hard to be here alone, and I- I try but it's not enough, I can't do everything and I'm not a good enough parent for her, there will a-always be something missing.” 

“You're wrong,” you say but he shakes his head in disagreement. “Chris, you're wrong,” you cradle his face, taking you both by surprise. Your thumb swipes gently underneath the skin of his eyes, wiping his cascading tears. 

“You love Sowon. And she can feel it, she can see it, she can hear it. Everyone can. A parent can't be perfect, but they should love. And you love her.” 

“What if I can't even love her enough for a father? How will I ever fill the role of two parents?” he's leaning onto your palm, hanging onto your every word. You'd sit for hours and untangle every thread of his mind if you have to, until you single out the infested one and burn it away. 

“She loves you Chris. She looks at you as if you hang every star in the sky. As if you're responsible for every good thing that happens in our world. She loves you and you love her.”

You gaze up at the ceiling, tears welling in your eyes. Chan notices the subtle tremble in your hand against his cheek.

“If I had someone who loved me as much as you love Sowon when I was a child, I would've turned out so differently,” you smile bitterly, swallowing down the lump in your throat. 

“You won't be a perfect dad. You can't be. But she won't grow up with a throbbing heart, pulsating because of a void that cannot be filled. Her veins won't be poisoned by hate and abandonment. Because she knows what it's like to be loved,” you pause, as your voice breaks, traitorous tears rolling down your cheeks. “To be cared for.” 

Your eyes hold his in a silent conversation, secretly telling him what your tongue cannot speak of— Sowon, an untarnished blossom, won't unfurl into a solitary flower the way you did.

“I'm sorry,” he whispers after a while, eyes softening in understanding. His knuckles brush gently against your cheek. 

“Why are you apologizing?” 

“So you'd find a reason within you to forgive,” he says, as he leans forward to press a tender kiss on your forehead. And somehow it feels more intimate than any way you've been touched before. 

Five days later.

chris [11:32 p.m.]: you up?

yn [11:32 p.m.]: i just got bad flashbacks to my college years

chris [11:33 p.m.]: ajaksjsbsbbs

chris [11:33 p.m.]: i didn’t mean it like that ㅠㅠ 

chris [11:33 p.m.]: wanna come over? i'm in the studio but im not feeling inspired 

yn [11:34 p.m.]: and how will i help? 

chris [11:34 p.m.]: i find your presence inspiring 

You don’t reply, instead putting on your slippers and walking over to his apartment. He opens the door before you even have the chance to knock. 

“What are you working on?” you ask once you’re settled atop his chair, spinning around slightly. He looks down at the pillow on his lap, lightly plucking its pink fur. “A song for Sowon,” he admits softly and your eyes grow a little wide. 

“That is so sweet,” you pout, inching closer to him. “How is it going?”

“I've finished the melody and now I'm working on the lyrics. There is just.. so much i want to tell her, i'm unsure if ill be able to express it well.” 

“Can I read what you wrote?” 

“Yeah. Yeah, sure,” he searches through his papers. “Here.”

May these words be the first to find your ears

The world is brighter than the sun now that you're here

I'll give you everything I have

I'll teach you everything I know

I promise I'll do better

I will soften every edge

I'll hold the world to its best

And I'll do better

Tears spring to your eyes unexpectedly, you try to stop their flow but they fall upon the paper, splattering like a broken mosaic, mimicking the brokenness of your own heart. 

“I'm sorry,” you spin around, your back to him as you attempt to dry your tears, and yet they show no desire to stop. Chris is in your heart and he’s kicking every other emotion out, forcing you to make amends with your sadness, the one you buried years, years ago. 

Chris gently grabs the back of the chair, pulling you back to him before spinning your chair once again until you are facing him. You bury your face in your hands and his rests reassuringly on your knee, squeezing it slightly. “Is it so bad it made you sob?” 

“Shut up, you know this isn’t the case.” 

His hand delicately traces up your arm, gently lifting your fingers from your face. He kneels before you, his thumb tenderly wiping away the traces of tears on your cheeks.

“Talk to me?” 

“It's so beautiful, so warm, so loving. Everything a parent should think of their child,” a traitorous hiccup escapes your lips. “Everything my parents never felt for me.” 

Chris’ mouth morphs into a pout, eyebrows scrunching tightly. You shake your head, smoothing down the worried crease between his eyes. 

“I don't feel sad over things I can't control and I love myself enough now to compensate for what I didn't have, but sometimes-'' your voice breaks, Chan’s hold on your hands tightens. “It stings to remember what could’ve been.” 

Stings was an understatement, it is rather a pulsating void, throbbing in ache every day, calling out for its missing piece. How can I fill you with what was lost when it chose to walk away? 

“Come here,” he whispers, coaxing you to your feet, his arms enveloping your body as he guides your head to the crook of his neck. His body runs warm, the material of his sweatshirt soft, and he smells nice too, the contours of his muscles tailor-made to complement the ridges of your own. 

“You grew up well, Yn. You did well.”

You clutch his shirt, tightening your grip as you fist the fabric in your palm. He's patting your back, and time slows down to match the rhythm of his touch. 

“Love can be hard, I know. Especially when the people who left are the ones supposed to be staying.” 

He understands, more than anyone you know. He missed out on a different kind of love too, two facets of the same coin. 

“You’re doing well too, Chris. You shouldn’t doubt yourself as much,” your arms trail up to encircle his neck, as his nose tickles your hair. You're the one hugging him now. “Sowon is really smart, she told me that she loves you a lot. She can feel it. She sees everything you do for her.”

“Is that what she told you that movie night?”

“Partly,” you whisper, and Chris leans away slightly, his warm palms still pressed to your waist, holding you close. 

“What else did she tell you?” he asks, curiosity barely hidden in his tone.

You pause for a while, eyes going over the entire room before finally locking on him.

“She thanked me, said that I make you smile more.” You suck in a deep breath, gathering your courage. “Do I?” 

“There are small lines that don’t show on my face until you're near.” 

“Oh.” That is the only coherent response you can formulate, and Chris giggles, a tiny squeak escaping his lips in a huff. “Cute,” he murmurs, planting a tender kiss on your temple. His lips linger, holding onto the moment a beat longer than necessary, causing your eyes to close in delight. Both of you find yourselves blushing as he leans away, a shared warmth coloring the space between you.

“Sorry, didn't mean to make the mood somber,” you say sheepishly as you sit back down, eyeing Chris’s laptop. “I wanna hear this,” you quickly point to a random track on his screen before he can reply, hoping to make the sadness flee away.

“This one? It’s not really good, let's listen to something else,” his rambling and eagerness to change the track pique your curiosity and you quickly click on the song before he can stop you.

connected.mp3 starts playing. 

Sultry beats inundate your ears, weaving through your veins and whisking you away to the pulsating rhythm of a dance club. You knew Chris produced good music, yet you never fathomed that his voice could be so luxuriously rich, cascading over you like molten wax. You feel a blush rise to your cheeks at the suggestive lyrics, the innuendos peeking behind every word. And then, a sudden jealousy claws at your heart, at the thought of Chris hunched in his studio, fantasizing about connecting with someone who isn’t you. 

You wished to be the only one Chris liked. 

“It’s a- a demo for one of my clients,” he explains through a stutter once the song is done, and you nod meekly, willing your body’s temperature to go down, for the possessivity crinkling in you to fizzle out. 

So, you put on your best taunting smirk.

“I know you want me don’t crumble.. No need to be desperate we’re just getting started,” you sing-song back. “You were feeling so cocky when you wrote this, right?” you grin, inching your chair closer to his. “Feeling yourself, Mr. Bang?”

He chuckles with a hint of annoyance, running his tongue along the expanse of his lower lip. Leaning back into his chair, he casually spreads his legs a bit wider, a gesture that suddenly leaves you feeling dizzy, on him.

“It’s cute how affected you seem by it,” he throws nonchalantly, crossing his arms before his chest.

“I'm not,” you smile, although your erratic heartbeat spoke of a different tale, you just didn't need to voice it to him. “I think you were the one getting all hot and bothered in your studio,” you stand between his legs, hovering over him as he leans back fully in his chair. 

“I was thinking of a pretty girl.”

“Yeah?”

“Mm,” he suddenly grabs your waist, you feel like your entire body is ablaze. “The prettiest.”

"Who is she?" you exhale, teetering on the edge of crashing your lips onto his, like an incoherent love poem, hastily scrambled on a notebook in a fit of anger.

“y–” The door suddenly opens, Sowon’s small frame standing by the door, she’s rubbing her eyes tiredly, her chick plushie dangling from her hand (a gift from her uncle Felix as she explained to you). You quickly scramble away from Chris as he clears his throat loudly.

“Daddy, I can't sleep,” she says faintly, a tiny pout drawn on her lips, and you can see Chris physically melt at her words, at the way she paddles to his chair, and tries her best to climb up his legs. She fails to do so, so he quickly scopes her up his arms until she’s buried in his hold. Her small hands wound up around his neck, and he tenderly pats down her hair, his gaze never wavering from her frame.

“Want me to sing to you, sweetheart?”

“Yes,” she whispers, before making grabby hands at you, your heart softens like clay dough as you scoot closer, enclosing her fingers in your hold. 

“Sleep well, Sowonnie,” you whisper. 

“Can’t you stay with us?” she asks and you feel your blood freeze in your veins, your heart skipping three beats at once.

To stay. What a frightening concept. Even more scary when you realize that you aren’t opposed to it. 

You yearn to stay, for the first time in years, you wish you could. 

You swallow the growing lump in your throat, before smiling reassuringly. “I'll stay till you fall asleep.” 

Conditions, it is the way it has always been for you. staying till you’re no longer useful, staying till you're no longer wanted. Staying, but always with a time limit, always with an expiration date. 

iv. 

You’re avoiding him. 

Chris knows you are, since you no longer come over to his house, claiming that you’re tired, or that you have an important order to bake for the next day. He would have believed you had he not seen you only once in the past three weeks. 

Those were excuses, and each one of them weighed heavily on Chris’ heart, on his home too, his studio particularly, the one that got used to the sound of your laugh. 

He misses you. He never thought he’d miss someone again, craving you presence as if every breath leaving his body depended on you. He wasn’t a stranger to intimacy, fleeting hookups every now and then. Strangers invited him to their bed, knowing what they were signing up for– one night of pleasure, never to be seen again, their faces blurring into an indistinct mass in his mind, like an impressionist painting where no features stand out. Yet, with you, every detail is etched in his memory. 

He could pick you out of a crowded room, recognize the delicate curve of your neck, the fullness of your lips, and the way your nose scrunches when you smile.

He could draw the moles scattered on your body from memory alone, recognize your scent from miles away– your cotton shampoo and the specific laundry detergent you love to use and a hint of vanilla that never truly leaves you. 

He’d remember the curve of your lashes and the cascading of your hair, the airy giggles you leave across like a trail for him to follow everywhere, and your eyes– the way they gazed at him, softening slightly around the edges, shining brightly as if crafted from stardust, the way they softened even more when you looked at Sowon, voice growing slightly high pitched as you listened to his daughter’s rambles.

How did you manage to make his home yours without ever living in it?

“Dad?” Sowon calls out and he snaps his head up, locking eyes with his little girl. She’s sitting on a high stool, munching on her pizza, a pensive look on her face.

“Yes, sweetheart?” he asks, walking over to her side.

“Where is Ynnie?” she asks in a small voice and he freezes, mulling over his response. He settles for the truth.

“I don't know, baby.”

“Does she not want to play with me anymore?” Sowon whispers, and he doesn’t remember his daughter ever being this tentative about voicing a question. 

“No!” he's quick to reassure, cradling Sowon’s face between his much larger hands. “Of course not baby she loves you a lot.”

“Okay…” she nods, a small pout drawn on her lips still. Chris senses his heart physically crack in his chest.

“Do you wanna work in the studio with me?” he says in a joyful tone, and she instantly cheers up, the twinkle in her eyes found again. “Yes!” 

“Finish your food first, okay Wonnie?” 

“Okay!” 

In Chris's life, regrets have been scarce, and certainly not in the form of Sowon, his beacon of hope, as he named her. Having her was beholding a sun wherever he went. However, a fear lingers, a whisper in his heart, suggesting that letting you go might be his one true regret.

So when his daughter falls asleep, he knocks on your door once again. He's suddenly transported into that cold night, months ago, where he asked you for flour. Had he known you were behind it he would’ve knocked much sooner. 

“Hi,” you greet softly once you open the door. He takes a step forward, his wolf slippers matching with Sowon’s bump into your plain ones. You avert your gaze, finding anything but him to fixate on.

“You're avoiding me,” he says matter-of-factly, voice soft, resigning to you.

“I'm not,” you contradict, even as your eyes remain on the ground. He finds himself missing the color of your irises.

"Look at me, hm?" he implores, and you stay rooted in place. A soft sigh escapes him as he cradles your right cheek with his warm hand, his thumb gently sweeping across your cheekbone. "Yn, please, I want to look at you."

Maybe it is the pleading tone of his voice or the way his thumb tenderly grazes your skin, but something about Chris makes your resolve unravel, threads of fear unknotting before your eyes. So, you finally look at him. An exhale of relief escapes him. 

And then you speak.

“You asked me if I was okay, and I didn't reply, back then,” you say, leaning your head further against his palm as tears well up in your waterline. “Do you still want to know my answer?”

“Of course, always.”

“I'm happy. With you, with sowon. I feel this warmth that I have never known before when I'm with you. It was almost easy to forget I've known you during winter,” you chuckle dryly, “but it is all an illusion, I lie to myself thinking I could stay, I… I can't, I-“

“What if I ask you to stay?” he brings your hand to his heart, where it beats erratically, pulse seeping through your skin.

He’s as scared as you are.

“Chris…”

“What if I told you, Yn, please stay with me,” he breathes out, guiding your hand to gently cup his cheek. “Would you? Would you stay?”

“I'm terrified,” you whisper, as he tilts his head, bestowing a tender kiss on your palm. 

“I know, so am I. But, you make me believe that even my bruised parts are worthy of love.”

He wins, before years of skeletons and piled up doubts, he wins. 

“Okay.”

“Okay?”

“I'm staying.”

“You are?”

“I am,” you giggle lightly and he staggers back, the sun pouring into his smile. 

“Um, wow, okay. Thank you for staying,” his voice sounds airy, happiness floating in his tone, and you find it contagious, imprinting into your own.

“Thank you for asking me to stay.”

“You made it less daunting,” he pats your head, smoothing your hair down. “I missed you.”

“I missed you too.”

He giggles in response and you can't help but mirror the sound. “Why are you so nervous?”

“Whaaat? I'm not,” his tone grows high-pitched and you roll your eyes amusedly. 

“What happened to connected Chris?” 

“He is flustered by the girl he wrote about.”

Your cheeks tint red as he places a hand above your head, caging you in place. 

“I think the girl should get paid for being the muse.”

“Oh yeah?” he smirks, “I'll think about it.” His grin softens, as a content expression washes over his face. You know you must look the same. “Let's talk more tomorrow, okay?”

“Okay,” you grin, before placing a chaste kiss on his cheek. “Good night, Chris.”

“Good night, yn.”

You quietly watch as he walks to his apartment door, his hand settling on the door knob. He pauses, for a few seconds where the air around you stills, before swiveling around and walking over to you again. 

you win. 

“I forgot something,” he breathes out, before crashing his lips onto yours, furiously, as if needing to imprint his essence onto you, tainting your soul the way you have tainted him, permanently altering the composition of his being. His lips move on yours as if they've done this before, a dance they have rehearsed countless times, perhaps in all the dreams Chris visited you in. Yet, nothing compares to how it feels to have him touch you, lick your lower lip and drag his hand up your hips, press you against your apartment door, and nibble at your neck. 

Nothing could have prepared you for the passion he shows you, for how delicious it feels to be pressed against him, for the storm that your lips conjure, swirling in your heart in vibrant shades of red. Then, for the softness of his lips as they slow down their course, plump and rosy as they meet your own, tenderly, more gently, one kiss after the other. “My hope,” he whispers, as his lips find yours again, “my missing piece.”

He’s hot and cold, in yet seeking no out, finally yours.

bonus (one year later). 

“So I brought the eggs, milk, sugar,” Chris enumerates as he takes out the groceries, and you turn to look at Sowon to find her already gazing at you, a mischievous look on her face. 

“How much do you wanna bet he forgot flour?” you whisper and she giggles, burying her face in her hands to stifle her laugh.

“And… Wait, where is the flour?” he trails off and you burst out laughing, as you and Sowon high-five each other excitedly. 

“Daddy, you are really bad at groceries.”

“Am I?” he smiles sheepishly, fiddling with his earlobe in a manner that still makes your heart melt, renders your insides butterflies speaking of Chris’ name.

“Yes, it’s good Mom bought it,” she says naturally, looking down at her iPad. You and Chris freeze in your tracks, eyes instantly locking with one another, yours and his, glossy with emotion, a loving tide enveloping you both. 

It's her first time calling you mom. 

You swallow down the lump in your throat, crafted not by thorns but by petals, not by ache but with love, before placing your chin on the small of her shoulder, murmuring softly. "Mm, will you help me bake, baby?"

“Yes! I wanna be a baker when I grow up, just like you.”

“What happened to being a stylist?”

“I can't be both?” she frowns innocently. 

“You can be anything you want, princess.” you bop her nose and she giggles, pressing a sweet kiss to your cheek. 

In the grip of winter, Chris discovers a warmth that defies the season, casting off years of cold from the recesses of his bones. A soft smile graces his lips as he gazes at you, his hopes, his girls, the three of you clad in wolf slippers.

He’ll propose to you tomorrow.

Stray Kids fic recs

Ot8

Bang Chan

Lee Know

Seo Changbin

Hwang Hyunjin

Han Jisung

Lee Felix

Kim Seungmin

Yang Jeongin

(240703) gnabnahc instagram live

MAYDAY MAYDAY

DANGER DANGER

HES WATCHING OUR EDITS GUYS

About me!

~~~~~~~~~~

Profile:

Name- Sakura

Age- 18

Ethnicity- American

Birthday- 11/26

Height- 5'4"

Zodiac Sign- Sagittarius

Relationship Status- Taken

Favorite smell- Vanilla, Cherry blossom & Lavender

Likes:

- Stray kids

- Cats

- Creative Writing

- Sketching/Writing

- Crocheting

- Sewing

- Digital art

- Learning about different cultures

- History

- Staying up late

- Listening to music

- Singing

- Reading

- Horror Movies

- True crime

Dislikes:

- Dishonesty

- Freezing weather

- People taking advantage of my kindness

- Inconsideration

- Negative, toxic people

- Big crowds

- Unsafe situation

- Chaotic rooms

- New situations

- Disrespect

- Being unprepared

- Being overlooked

~~~~~~~~~~

𝓓𝓪𝓽𝓲𝓷𝓰 𝓑𝓪𝓷𝓰𝓬𝓱𝓪𝓷 𝓶𝓸𝓸𝓭𝓫𝓸𝓪𝓻𝓭

Bangchan!!

If you like this then follow because I'm sure you'll like my future stories!

~~~~~~~~~~

𝓚𝓮𝔂:

Fluff: ~ Smut: * Angst: ^

𝓑𝓪𝓷𝓰𝓬𝓱𝓪𝓷

Dating bangchan - Moodboard ~

Planning a date with Chan - Text format ~

Bangchan photos - Pic collage ~

Dripping With Love - Short story ~

Love In The Crown - Story series ~ *

Comfort in Discomfort - Short story ~ (Requested)

Three Years in The Making - Short story ~ (Poll)

Random sexual texts with Chan - Text format *

A Closer Connection - Sakura's Bakery Request *

Cute Bangchan pictures - Pic collage ~

Love, Laugh, and Self-Care - Birthday story ~

𝓛𝓮𝓮 𝓚𝓷𝓸𝔀

Dating Lee Know - Moodboard ~

At a party without Minho - Text format ~ *

Lee Know photos - Pic collage ~

The Downpour Confession - Short story ~

Together and Content - Short story ~

Minho comforts you - Text format ~

Minho's trying to convince you - Text format ~

𝓒𝓱𝓪𝓷𝓰𝓫𝓲𝓷

When Changbin misses you - Text format ~

Dating Changbin - Moodboard ~

Changbin photos - Pic collage ~

Taking The Leap - Short story ~

The Birthday Surprise - Short story ~ *

𝓗𝔂𝓾𝓷𝓳𝓲𝓷

Dating Hyunjin - Moodboard ~

Hyunjin wants a kiss - Text format ~

Hyunjin photos - Pic collage ~

Dancing hearts series - Story series ~

A Quiet Night in Milan - Short story ~

Confessions and Connections - Short story ~

Lover boy texts - Texts ~

𝓗𝓪𝓷

Dating Han - Moodboard ~

Han misses you - Text format ^ ~

Han photos - Pic collage ~

Behind Closed Doors - Short story ~

𝓕𝓮𝓵𝓲𝔁

When he accidentally leaves you on read - Text format ~

Dating Felix - Moodboard ~

Felix photos - Pic collage ~

Brownie Biased - Short story ~

𝓢𝓮𝓾𝓷𝓰𝓶𝓲𝓷

Dating Seungmin - Moodboard ~

Seungmin is coming over - Text format ~

Seungmin photos - Pic collage ~

Banter and Tunes - Short story ~

A Scrapbook Surprise - Short story ~

Completely His - Sakura's Bakery Request *

𝓙𝓮𝓸𝓷𝓰𝓲𝓷

Dating Jeongin - Moodboard ~

On your period w/ Jeongin - Text format ~

Jeongin photos - Pic collage ~

Taking A Chance - Short story ~

𝓟𝓸𝓵𝔂!𝓢𝓽𝓻𝓪𝔂 𝓚𝓲𝓭𝓼

Fireworks and Laughter ~

Two's Company, Three's a Party ~ (Han x Reader x Felix)

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✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ੈ✩‧₊˚༺☆༻ੈ✩‧₊˚✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

𝓒𝔀: 𝓟𝓸𝓵𝔂! 𝓢𝓽𝓻𝓪𝔂 𝓚𝓲𝓭𝓼 𝔁 𝓡𝓮𝓪𝓭𝓮𝓻, 𝓕𝓵𝓾𝓯𝓯

𝓦𝓸𝓻𝓭 𝓒𝓸𝓾𝓷𝓽: 1055

𝓔𝓼𝓽𝓲𝓶𝓪𝓽𝓮𝓭 𝓡𝓮𝓪𝓭𝓲𝓷𝓰 𝓣𝓲𝓶𝓮: 4 𝓶𝓲𝓷 8 𝓼𝓮𝓬

𝘐 𝘢𝘮 𝘸𝘦𝘭𝘭 𝘢𝘸𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘺 𝘥𝘰 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘤𝘦𝘭𝘦𝘣𝘳𝘢𝘵𝘦 4𝘵𝘩 𝘰𝘧 𝘑𝘶𝘭𝘺. 𝘛𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘪𝘴 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘧𝘶𝘯

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ੈ✩‧₊˚༺☆༻ੈ✩‧₊˚✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

The 8 members of Stray Kids were all excitedly preparing for the 4th of July celebration tonight. Chan, Minho, Changbin, Hyunjin, Han, Felix, Seungmin, and Jeongin each had their own idea of how to celebrate. Still, there was one thing they all agreed on - spending the night with their girlfriend, Y/n.

As the sun set, the sky turned into a dazzling display of fireworks, and the members gathered around a picnic blanket, surrounded by the sparkling lights.

Jeongin snuggled closer to Y/n’s side, his head resting on her shoulder as they watched the colorful fireworks illuminate the night sky. Changbin and Han were busy lighting up some sparklers and chasing each other around the blankets, their laughter filling the air. Chan and Minho were setting up a small, makeshift barbeque, while Felix and Seungmin were arguing over the best way to roast marshmallows.

Throughout the night, the members took turns stealing kisses from Y/n, each showing her how much they cared for her in their own way. They played games, sang songs, and shared stories, enjoying each other's company as the fireworks lit up the night sky. As the fireworks came to an end, the members and Y/n curled up together, their bodies intertwined in a tangle of limbs as they watched the final sparks fade away. Despite their varied personalities, they all agreed that the best way to celebrate the 4th of July was by spending it with each other.

The night came to an end with the members slowly drifting off to sleep one by one, their tired bodies slumped together on the blanket. Y/n looked around at her sleeping boyfriends, feeling a deep sense of contentment and love. Each one was unique, but together, they made the perfect team. As she drifted off to sleep, Y/n knew that she was lucky to have not one, but eight amazing men in her life who loved her unconditionally.

The next morning, the members woke up groggy and disheveled, their clothes rumpled from the night before. Chan stifled a yawn and looked around at his boyfriends. "How the hell did we all end up sleeping outside?"

"No idea, but my back is killing me," Minho groaned, rubbing his neck tenderly.

"Must have been the fireworks," Changbin yawned. "They were pretty late last night."

The other members mumbled their agreement, still trying to shake off the last remnants of sleep. Chan stretched and turned to Y/n, who was also waking up. "Hey, sleepyhead. Did you enjoy last night?"

Y/n grinned, her hair sticking out in all directions. "Of course I did. It was the best 4th of July celebration ever."

The members chuckled, each one stealing a quick kiss from Y/n as they sat up, their legs tangled together under the blanket.

"Looks like we all had the same idea," Han teased.

Felix grinned. "Yeah, how could we resist?"

The morning was spent in a lazy, comfortable haze as the members slowly got up and started packing up their things. Despite their sore backs and sleep-deprived minds, they all felt happy and content, grateful for the simple pleasure of waking up together.

As they finished packing, Chan turned to the others with a mischievous glint in his eye. "Hey, who's up for a quick game of volleyball before breakfast?"

The others groaned, but they all knew they couldn't resist a game. "You're on," Minho said, rolling his eyes. And so, the members, along with Y/n, spent the morning playing a rowdy game of volleyball, their laughter and banter echoing through the air.

Despite their initial resistance, the members found themselves getting more and more into the game. The competition was fierce, with each member determined to win. Jeongin was surprisingly good at serves, while Hyunjin was a master at spiking the ball. Even Changbin and Han, notorious for their lack of competitiveness, got into the game, their usual playful banter replaced with fierce determination.

In the end, the game ended in a tie, with everyone laughing and high-fiving each other. "That was intense," Felix panted, flopping down on the grass.

Changbin grinned. "You guys are too competitive. But hey, at least I didn't lose."

Han stuck out his tongue. "You were cheating, admit it."

The members bickered good-naturedly as they caught their breaths, exhausted but happy. Y/n watched them, feeling a deep sense of affection for each of them. They were a chaotic bunch, but they were hers.

As the game winded down, the members decided to head back to the house to shower. As they walked, they continued to banter and tease each other, their playful banter never ceasing. Once they reached the house, they all went their separate ways, each one heading to their respective rooms to freshen up.

As they all finished showering and got dressed, they converged in the kitchen, hungry and ready for some breakfast. Chan was already cooking up a storm, the smell of eggs and bacon filling the air. Minho and Hyunjin set the table while Jeongin and Felix helped Chan with the cooking. Changbin and Han just sat at the counter, groaning loudly and complaining about being hungry.

As they all sat down at the table to eat, the mood was lighthearted and carefree. They teased each other about the previous night's events, laughing at the memories of their chaotic volleyball game. Y/n sat between Minho and Hyunjin, enjoying the sight of her boyfriends goofing around.

As they finished their breakfast, they all agreed that it had been a perfect 4th of July celebration, full of laughter and love. Each member looked around the table at the others, feeling grateful for the bond they shared. Despite their individual personalities and quirks, they all knew that they were stronger together than apart.

The members finished up their breakfast and helped clean up the kitchen, still chatting and joking around. Y/n smiled as she watched them, feeling a deep sense of contentment and joy. She knew that this band of misfits, the eight men who had stolen her heart, were her family. And as they continued to build their future together, she knew that they would face it head-on, hand in hand, united in their love and support for each other.

Planning a date with Chan

Prologue/Intro to chapter 1

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

~~~~~~~~~~

𝓒𝔀: 𝓝𝓸𝓽𝓱𝓲𝓷𝓰, 𝓳𝓾𝓼𝓽 𝓰𝓸𝓸𝓭 𝓸𝓵𝓭 𝓯𝓵𝓾𝓯𝓯. 𝓝𝓸 𝓶𝓮𝓷𝓽𝓲𝓸𝓷𝓼 𝓸𝓯 𝓰𝓮𝓷𝓭𝓮𝓻 𝓯𝓸𝓻 𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓭𝓮𝓻 𝓳𝓾𝓼𝓽 𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓾𝓼𝓮 𝓸𝓯 '𝔂𝓸𝓾'.

𝓦𝓸𝓻𝓭 𝓬𝓸𝓾𝓷𝓽: 494

𝓔𝓼𝓽𝓲𝓶𝓪𝓽𝓮𝓭 𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓭𝓲𝓷𝓰 𝓽𝓲𝓶𝓮: 1 𝓶𝓲𝓷 58 𝓼𝓮𝓬

~~~~~~~~~~

The rain patters against the window of Chan’s apartment, a gentle rhythm that fills the room with its calming sound.

He sits on the couch, his attention focused on his phone as he idly scrolls through Instagram. You sit across from him, reading a book in a plush armchair. The soft glow of the overhead lights casts a warm, cozy atmosphere over the room and a sense of tranquil peace washes over the two of you as the rain continues its serenade outside.

You look up from your book, placing a bookmark on the page you were just reading before closing your book. “Hey love, it’s raining outside.”

Chan looked up from his phone, a small smile playing on his lips at your words. “It is, isn't it?” he replies, his eyes soft as he looks towards the window, watching the water droplets dance against the glass.

“We have the day off today, don’t we? We should do something fun, even in the rain, you know?”

“What do you mean?” You ask with a questioning look.

“Well,” Chan’s smile widens as he stands up, “It’s a cliche, but there’s something romantic about kissing in the rain. We should give it a try.” He moves over, holding out his hand for you to take.

You smile and take his hand, “You just want to make my book fantasies become a reality for me.”

Chan chuckles softly as he gently tugs you up to your feet, a glimmer of playfulness dancing in his eyes. 

“Of course I do, you deserve to experience those book fantasies you like to read and more.” He presses a soft kiss on your forehead before he intertwines your hands together.

“Let’s go and enjoy this rain, shall we?” he asks.

As the two of you put on your shoes and a jacket, you make your way outside.

The cold rain droplets hit your skin, and instantly your clothes start to cling to your figures from the moisture. Despite the cold weather, Chan leads you forward, a playful smile on his lips.

He takes your father out in front of the apartment building, away from the prying eyes of the other residents. A comfortable silence washes over the two of you, He pulls you close as he gently cups your cheek with his hand.

You slowly wrap your arms around his neck, leaning into Chan as you kiss.

Chan’s free hand instinctively wrapped around your waist, tugging you closer till not even rain could pass between you. The kiss was soft and slow, filled with tender love that you both couldn’t put into words. The rain gently pours down upon the two of you, adding a gentle rhythm to the kiss.

As you eventually pull away from the kiss you whisper “I love you.” you say as you put your head on his wet chest. “I love you too.” He responds.

“Now let’s get you inside, I don’t want you getting sick.”

✦•┈๑⋅⋯ ⋯⋅๑┈•✦✦•┈๑⋅⋯ ⋯⋅๑┈•✦

𝓒𝔀: 𝓜𝓮𝓷𝓽𝓲𝓸𝓷𝓼 𝓸𝓯 𝓹𝓮𝓻𝓲𝓸𝓭 𝓬𝓻𝓪𝓶𝓹𝓼, 𝓢𝓸𝓯𝓽! 𝓒𝓱𝓪𝓷, 𝓾𝓼𝓮 𝓸𝓯 𝓨/𝓷, 𝓕𝓵𝓾𝓯𝓯, 𝓗𝓪𝓹𝓹𝔂 𝓬𝓻𝔂𝓲𝓷𝓰

𝓦𝓸𝓻𝓭 𝓒𝓸𝓾𝓷𝓽: 701

𝓔𝓼𝓽𝓲𝓶𝓪𝓽𝓮𝓭 𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓭𝓲𝓷𝓰 𝓽𝓲𝓶𝓮: 2 𝓶𝓲𝓷 44 𝓼𝓮𝓬

✦•┈๑⋅⋯ ⋯⋅๑┈•✦✦•┈๑⋅⋯ ⋯⋅๑┈•✦

Bang Chan gently stroked Y/n's hair as she lay on the couch, a heating pad pressed against her stomach. Her cramps were causing her to wince occasionally, and he could tell she was in quite a bit of pain.

He looked down at her, a look of concern on his face. "Are you feeling okay?" he asked, his voice soft and soothing.

Y/n let out a low groan, her face twisting in discomfort. "Not really," she murmured, her voice strained. "My cramps are killing me."

Bang Chan frowned and bent down to press a gentle kiss to her forehead. "Poor thing," he murmured, his hand rubbing slow circles on her back. "Is there anything I can do to make it better?"

Y/n shook her head, wincing again as a particularly bad cramp hit. "Just... just stay with me," she managed to say. "It helps just having you here."

Bang Chan smiled softly, a look of affection in his eyes. "Of course," he said, his voice gentle. "I'm not going anywhere."

He continued to stroke her hair, his touch gentle and soothing. He hated seeing her in pain like this, but he was glad he could at least provide some comfort.

They sat like that for a while, neither of them speaking. Bang Chan continued to run his hand through her hair, while Y/n focused on the warm heat of the heating pad on her stomach.

Eventually, Y/n spoke up, her voice quiet. "Thank you," she murmured, her eyes closed. "For being here."

Bang Chan's expression softened even further at her words, and he gave her a warm smile. "It's my pleasure," he said, his voice full of tenderness. "I just wish I could take the pain away for you."

Y/n gave a small sigh, her body relaxing a little under his touch. "I wish you could too," she said, her voice soft. "But this helps. You being here, being so understanding. It means a lot."

Bang Chan's heart swelled at her words, and he caressed her hair once more. "I love you," he said quietly, his eyes meeting hers. "And I'll always be here for you, no matter what."

Y/n smiled weakly, her eyes fluttering open to look up at him. "I love you too," she said, her voice still a little strained. "Even when I'm being a hormonal mess during my period."

Bang Chan chuckled, a warm sound that rumbled deep in his chest. "You're not a mess," he said, his smile gentle. "You're just human. I love all of you, even when you're not at your best."

Y/n's eyes welled up with tears at his words, and she blinked back to keep them from falling. "You're too good to me," she said, her voice catching a little. "I don't deserve you."

Bang Chan shook his head, his expression becoming tender. "Don't say that," he said, his voice firm but gentle. "You deserve the world, and I'm just glad I get to be a small part of your life."

Y/n couldn't hold back the tears anymore, and a few escaped down her cheeks. She reached up to wipe them away, but Bang Chan beat her to it, gently wiping them away with his fingertips.

"You're beautiful," he said quietly, his eyes locked on hers. "Especially when you're vulnerable. It makes me want to take care of you even more."

Y/n's heart swelled at his words, and she let out a soft sob. "You're going to make me cry even more," she said, her voice shaking. "And I'll end up all snotty and gross."

Bang Chan laughed softly, a warm sound that filled the room. "I don't care," he said, his eyes sparkling with affection. "I'll still want to cuddle you and hold you close even if you're snotty and gross."

Y/n let out a shaky laugh, her heart feeling lighter than it had in days. "You're insane," she said, her voice still a little watery. "But I love you anyway."

Bang Chan leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to her forehead. "Good," he said, his voice soft. "Because I plan on being insane for a very long time."

~~~~~~Prologue/ Intro to Chapter 1~~~~~~~

𝓒𝔀: 𝓕𝓵𝓾𝓯𝓯, 𝓫𝓻𝓲𝓮𝓯 𝓶𝓮𝓷𝓽𝓲𝓸𝓷𝓼 𝓸𝓯 𝓼𝓶𝓾𝓽

~~~~~~~~~~

The prince was an anti-social and cold person, he rarely spoke to anyone besides his staff, even though it was only a few words. You were his maid and you seemed to be his sole exception, the only person with his full trust. 

While it seemed like he didn't care about anyone else, he treated you with respect and kindness. Something you weren't expecting when you were placed to be the prince's maid. There was never a trace of coldness in his voice when he spoke to you.

Slowly, the prince started to get this weird feeling in his heart whenever you were near. He would picture you in his head, your eyes that shine in the sun, your smile whenever he told a bad joke, your hands when you gently fixed his hair, the way you always smelled sweet when you were next to him or in front of him, the way your body moves when you walk. And even sometimes late at night about how your body would look underneath him... but most of the time he would quickly push those thoughts out of his head.

It was inappropriate for him to think of you like this, sexually. You're his maid, a relationship between you and him could never happen. His parents expected him to marry someone with a royal status, just so the kingdom could have a next heir to the throne.

He's quickly bought out of his thoughts by a gentle knock on his bedroom door. It's you, here to wake him up and get him ready for the day. When he finally sits up in his bed, he sees you walking towards his windows and throwing his curtains open.

"You have another lesson with your father today, I'm pretty sure it's about fighting. So, if this kingdom ever goes into war, you can defend it." You tell him while setting out his clothes.

He groans, not happy with having to listen to his father give his speeches that he's heard thousands of times and could recite in his sleep.

"Can't I just sleep in? I didn't get much sleep last night." He asks in a slight teasing tone.

You're unphased by his response. "No, you can't. Your father instructed me to get you to this lesson on time and dresses appropriately. And even though I serve you, your father scares me more. Now, get dressed." You rant "C'mon, let's go" You urge him as you pull on his arm to get him out of his bed.

He sighs but gets up against his will. As he undresses you turn your back to him to give him privacy. Once he's dressed and he gives you the go ahead, you turn around and straighten his outfit before heading to his bedroom door and opening it. "After you, your highness." You tease as he waves his hand, dismissing you but mumbling a thank you under his breath.

"Now, let's get you to your father. And for the love of God, don't skip out on this. I don't want to be scolded again." You groaned.

~~~~~~~~~~

𝓦𝓸𝓻𝓭 𝓬𝓸𝓾𝓷𝓽: 540

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~Chapter 1~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

𝒞𝓌: 𝐹𝓁𝓊𝒻𝒻, 𝒷𝓇𝒾𝑒𝒻 𝓂𝑒𝓃𝓉𝒾𝑜𝓃𝓈 𝑜𝒻 𝓅𝑜𝓈𝓈𝒾𝒷𝓁𝑒 𝓋𝒾𝑜𝓁𝑒𝓃𝒸𝑒

~~~~~~~~~~

Bangchan woke up to the sound of birds chirping and the sunlight shining through his window. He rubbed his eyes and stretched, groaning as he sat up in bed. He looked over at the clock on his bedside table, seeing that it was only half past six am. 

Chan groaned again and flopped back down on his pillow, pulling the covers over his head. He hated getting up early, especially since it meant enduring his father's dull lessons. He wanted to sleep in, but he knew that you, his maid would give him an earful if he didn't comply.

Chan heard a knock on his door followed by the sound of your footsteps as you walked into his room. He peeked out from under his covers to see you approaching his bed, already dressed and ready for the day.

"Good morning, your Highness," You said with a smile, "It's time to wake up."

Bangchan let out a sigh of resignation and sat up in bed, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. He knew that he had no choice but to get up now that you were there to supervise his morning routine.

"You don't have to call me that, I'm not the King yet." Bangchan groans. "I know, just getting you used to it." You respond.

"Yeah, yeah, whatever," Chan replies, "Now will you please be so kind as to let me sleep for once?"

You sigh and shake your head. "I'm afraid that's impossible, your Highness. Your father has instructed me to wake you up and ensure that you attend your morning lesson."

Chan groans again and buries his face in his pillows. He was not looking forward to this.

"Come on, you have to get dressed." You say as you go over to his windows and throw his curtains open, letting in sunlight.

Bangchan groans and rolls over, covering his face with a pillow. "I don't want to get up," he mumbles, "Can't you send someone else to attend to my clothes?" 

You roll your eyes as you walk to his dresser, pulling out a clean set of clothes. "You just want more time in bed, don't be lazy your Highness. I'll help you get dressed if you need it," you say teasingly.

Chan grumbled but got out of bed, stretching his arms over his head as you finish laying out his clothes and accessories. After he got dressed, you helped with his hair, making sure everything was perfect.

"You can't skip out on this lesson with your father today. If you do, he'll yell at me, and frankly I don't need to add that to my day. No offense your Highness," you tell Bangchan as you add on accessories to his outfit.

He groaned as you finished preparing him for the day. "I really don't want to attend this lesson," he whined.

You raise an eyebrow at him. "And why's that?"

"Because it's just going to be a bunch of boring lectures on responsibility and leadership. I've heard it all before," Chan complains.

"Well, maybe it wouldn't be so boring if you actually listened for once," You retort. "Plus, if you actually listened, he wouldn't have to say the same thing over and over again." You continued.

"Ugh, I know, I know," Chan whines with a roll of his eyes, "But I can't help it. His lessons are so dull and boring, I feel like I could die from sheer boredom."

"Well, that's physically impossible, so you'll be fine. Now, let's go."

Chan sighs but he still follows you out of the room, preparing himself for another boring lesson with his father.

"Here we are" you start as you reach the room his father is in. "If you need me send another maid to find me, I have other chores to do around the castle."

You curtsy to the king then to Chan before you leave the room.

Chan watches you leave with sad eyes before turning back to get started with his father's lesson for the day. He groans and takes a seat, trying to keep an open mind even though he knew his father was just going to repeat the same old thing again.

*Your POV*

I go back to Chan's room to tidy it up, change the sheets, put clean sheets on, and fix the pillows and blankets on his bed. Fastening the curtains correctly, tidied his vanity, and gathered all his dirty laundry to bring down to the maid's downstairs so they could wash them.

As I tidy up Chan's room, I take the time to look around and admire the luxurious surroundings. From the plush furnishings to the elegant decorations, it was clear that not many people got to experience such opulence. I find myself wondering what it was like to live in such a grand palace, always being waited on hand and foot. I started to envy Chan's status but, I also know that it also came with its own set of challenges. 

After finishing up with the room, I head out to the main floor of the castle to help with the other duties that needed to be done.

I decided to help gather produce from the castle gardens with the other maids from the castle kitchen.

I have always enjoyed this task, I got to spend time outdoors in the gardens.

The castle maids are one big family, and they work as one unit. If one maid has nothing on her schedule, they find something to help out with. It makes things at the castle run faster and smoother, It also gets all of you an early break at the end of the day.

This is why I like Chan's lessons with his father all day. Even though he hates having to sit there and listen to his father.

As the other maids and I worked in the garden, we couldn't help but notice the two guards watching over the bunch of you. All of you wondered why they were there, but they didn't think too much of it, gossiping and making up stories on why guards were suddenly watching over you all. However, you all continued to pick the fresh produce and laugh along with other maids, while I enjoyed the company and the warm sun on your face. Overall, it was a good day to be working outside in the gardens. 

The other maids and I head back inside with baskets full of produce, taking them to the kitchen to be washed and prepped by the kitchen maids so they can make lunch and dinner. Once everything is settled in the kitchen, I head up to check on Chan, seeing if the lesson with his father is over.

I head up to the room Chan and his father reside in, hoping to find him out of his lesson with his father. As I approach the room, I see the door is still closed, indicating that the lesson is still is session. I pause for a moment outside the door, wondering what's happening inside.

Is Chan bored of frustrated? Is his father giving him a hard time or vice vera, or simply going over the usual business of being a prince? You can't help but be curious. But I know I shouldn't eavesdrop, that I should just wait patiently until the meeting is over. Just go back to my sleeping quarters and rest for a bit.

But, even though I decided against it, I still knocked on the door, before opening it slightly. "I'm just checking in, making sure the two of you don't need anything. A drink? Something to eat?"

Chan immediately looked up to me, trying to hide his frustration with the boring lessons. "No, I don't need anything," he said dismissively, trying to sound like he wasn't bored out of his mind. "Just bring me my lunch when it's ready."

I bow my head towards Chan, signaling that I heard him, then I look towards the King. "Would you like the same thing Sir? For your lunch to be brought to you when it's ready?"

The King waves his hand dismissively at me. "No, that's alright, just bring me some water."

Chan rolls his eyes, used to this kind of behavior from his father. He watches as you bow before leaving the room, the door closing softly behind me.

I head down to the kitchen to get a glass of water. As I go to head back up to the lunch gets finished so me and the Kings personal maid Maya, grab a tray and put the plates of food and the glass of water on the tray before heading back up to the room the King and Prince reside in.

As the two of you make your way back upstairs with the trays of food and water, they could feel the tension in the air. Bangchan and his father had a strained relationship and their lessons often made things worse. Maya and I knew we had to be careful in how they handled the situation.

As I go to knock on the door there's a loud crash from inside the room. Maya and I flinch and exchange a worried look with each other. We pause outside the door, listening for any further noises, unsure of what to do. But everything was silent. We exchange a nervous glance once again before taking a deep breath and enter the room, unsure of what we might find.

~~~~~~~~~~

𝓦𝓸𝓻𝓭 𝓒𝓸𝓾𝓷𝓽: 1,583

Taglist: @manuosorioh@xxkissesforchanniexx@stayceebs97

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~Chapter 2~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

𝒞𝓌: 𝒜𝓁𝓁𝓊𝒹𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝓉𝑜 𝓋𝒾𝑜𝓁𝑒𝓃𝒸𝑒 (𝓃𝑜 𝒶𝒸𝓉𝓊𝒶𝓁 𝓋𝒾𝑜𝓁𝑒𝓃𝒸𝑒), 𝒻𝓁𝓊𝒻𝒻

~~~~~~~~~~

Maya and I stood in the doorway taking in the sight. The king was standing in front of Chan with an angry look on his face and a broken vase on the floor next to his feet. While Chan was still sitting in the chair he’s been in, with his head hung low. 

We glanced nervously at Bangchan, he looked defeated, and it sent a pang of sadness in my heart. I had to stay professional in front of the king. I glanced at Maya before I took a step forward, clearing my throat before speaking.

“We have lunch” I speak quietly but loud enough for them to hear.

The king turns his gaze towards us, taking a deep breath to calm himself. “Set the food on the table.” He grumbles, gesturing towards a table in the corner of the room.

Maya grabs a tray to hand to me before she grabs her own tray. We make our way to the table and set the trays down. After we set them down we make our way back to the doorway unsure of what to do.

“Will you need anything else?” Maya asks.

“No, that will be all,” the king says gruffly, taking a seat at the table.

Chan remains silent, still looking down at the ground as he avoids eye contact with anyone. Maya and I exchange another nervous glance, unsure of what to do or say next. The atmosphere in the room is thick with tension.

As Maya and I leave the room, closing the door behind us, I can’t help but feel a sense of worry for Chan. I know that he and his father have a complicated relationship, but seeing them argue like this was difficult to witness. I look towards Maya, trying to gauge her emotions before speaking.

Do you think he’ll be okay?” I ask her quietly as we walk down the hall.

Maya looks at me and sighs. “I don’t know,” She replies. “It’s hard to tell, the king and Bangchan have been at odds for a long time. Sometimes things get heated, but normally they can work through it.” She stops walking and frowns. “But I don’t know… that argument seemed more intense than usual.” She finished.

“Chan looked sad and scared… normally when I walk into a room he looks at me to acknowledge me, but his eyes didn’t leave the floor.” I tell Maya.

Maya nods thoughtfully, listening to my observation. “You’re right” She agrees. “He was acting different, he seemed withdrawn and defeated. And it is unusual for him not to acknowledge you. Is there something else going on or is it just the bad argument?”

“He was fine this morning, before this meeting with his father.” I respond

Maya nods again. “That’s true,” she muses. “It seems like that meeting with his father might have triggered something. Maybe the disagreement was much worse than what we saw there. Since we only got the ending of the argument, it could have been much worse.” She pauses before speaking again. “You should keep an eye on him, make sure he’s ok. But for now you should give him space.”

I nod “Yeah… that’s what I was thinking, I’m going to fetch his favorite night wear and I’m thinking about getting the cook to make his favorite dessert.” I tell Maya and she nods in agreement.

“I don’t know how I’m going to handle the king.” Maya tells me.

We both go our separate ways. I go to Chan's room to find his favorite nightwear and I place it on his bed. Then I go to the cook downstairs to ask them to make Chan's favorite dessert made for him when he gets out of the meeting with his father.

~~~~~~~~~~

𝓦𝓸𝓻𝓭 𝓒𝓸𝓾𝓷𝓽: 630

Taglist: @manuosorioh@xxkissesforchanniexx@stayceebs97@lubileaf

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~Chapter 3~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

𝓒𝔀: 𝓕𝓮𝓶! 𝓡𝓮𝓪𝓭𝓮𝓻, 𝓾𝓼𝓮 𝓸𝓯 𝓨/𝓷, 𝓕𝓵𝓾𝓯𝓯 𝓽𝓸 𝓢𝓶𝓾𝓽, 𝓟𝓸𝓻𝓷 𝔀𝓲𝓽𝓱 𝓪 𝓹𝓵𝓸𝓽, 𝓣𝓪𝓵𝓴 𝓪𝓫𝓸𝓾𝓽 𝓫𝓮𝓲𝓷𝓰 𝓪 𝓭𝓲𝓼𝓼𝓪𝓹𝓸𝓲𝓷𝓽𝓶𝓮𝓷𝓽

𝓦𝓸𝓻𝓭 𝓬𝓸𝓾𝓷𝓽: 4,092

𝓔𝓼𝓽𝓲𝓶𝓪𝓽𝓮𝓭 𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓭𝓲𝓷𝓰 𝓽𝓲𝓶𝓮: 16 𝓶𝓲𝓷 22 𝓼𝓮𝓬

~~~~~~~~~~

As Y/N returned to Bangchan's room with his favorite nightwear and set it on his bed, she couldn't help feeling a sense of worry for him. She knew that something was bothering him, and she hoped that the familiar comfort of his favorite clothes would bring him some small measure of solace.

She then headed to the kitchen area and spoke to the cook, asking them to make Bangchan's favorite dessert as a gesture of comfort. The cook nodded and got to work, understanding the significance of the request.

As Y/N waited for the dessert to be finished, she wondered how Bangchan was doing

After a while, the cook announced that the dessert was ready and Y/N carefully carried it back to Bangchan's room. As she approached the door, she took a deep breath before carefully opening it, peeking inside to see how Bangchan was doing…

As she entered the room, Y/N saw Bangchan sitting on the edge of his bed, staring off into space with a melancholy expression on his face. His shoulders were slumped, and he was holding his head in his hands. It was clear that he was still upset about the argument with his father.

Y/N carefully set the dessert down on a nearby table and approached him, speaking softly. "I brought you something," she said gently.

Bangchan looked up at her, his expression weary. He saw the dessert and managed a small smile, but it didn't reach his eyes. "Thanks," he said quietly, his voice lacking its usual enthusiasm.

Y/N sat down next to him on the bed, putting a hand on his shoulder. "I also put out some nightwear for you," she said quietly. "I know it's been a tough day, and I thought it might help if you had something familiar and comfortable to wear."

Bangchan nodded, his expression still weary. "Yeah, thanks," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. He glanced down at the dessert on the table. "You really didn't have to go to all this trouble, you know," he mumbled, his tone a little defensive.

Y/N smiled gently. "It's no trouble at all," she reassured him. "I just wanted to make sure you had something to lift your spirits a little bit." She paused, studying his expression. "Do you want to talk about what happened with your father?" she asked carefully.

Bangchan tensed up at the mention of his father, a flicker of anger crossing his face. He shook his head slightly. "No, not really," he muttered, his tone bitter.

Y/N nodded, understanding the pain and resentment that was probably bubbling up inside him. "That's okay," she said quietly. "You don't have to talk about it if you don't want to. But I just want you to know that I'm here for you if you ever need to talk or just need some company."

Bangchan looked up at her, his expression softening slightly. "Thanks, Y/N," he said gruffly. "I appreciate it." There was a moment of silence before he spoke again, his voice low and vulnerable. "It's just… sometimes it feels like he's always disappointed in me, no matter what I do."

Y/N felt a pang of sadness as she heard the pain in Bangchan's voice. She knew that he was struggling with the weight of his father's expectations and disappointment, and it hurt her to see him so hurt and defeated. "I can only imagine how difficult that must be," she said sympathetically. "But it's important to remember that you don't need to live up to his expectations. You are your own person, with your own strengths and weaknesses. You have worth and value, no matter what he says or thinks.”

Bangchan exhaled deeply, letting her words sink in. "I know, I know," he muttered. "But it's hard to remember that sometimes, when it feels like he's always breathing down my neck, criticizing everything I do." He ran a hand through his hair, looking frustrated.

Y/N reached out and placed a hand on his arm, offering a gentle squeeze. "It must be really tough, having that kind of pressure on you," she said softly. "But you don't have to face it alone. You have people here who care about you, who see your worth and value."

Bangchan looked at her, his expression a mix of gratitude and vulnerability. "Thanks, Y/N," he said quietly. "I'm just… so tired of feeling like I'm never good enough for him. Like I'll never be the son he wants me to be."

As Y/N sat down in the chair opposite Bangchan, she adjusted her dress, smoothing out any wrinkles. She studied his face, seeing the exhaustion and weariness etched into his features. It was clear that today's events had taken their toll on his spirit.

"I can only imagine how exhausted you must feel," she said kindly. "Not only from your lesson but also from the argument with your father. It sounds like it was a tough meeting."

Bangchan nodded, his expression weary. "It was," he muttered. "It's always the same thing with him. He's never satisfied with anything I do. No matter how hard I try, it's never good enough for him." He clenched his jaw, his frustration and disappointment evident.

Y/N reached for the dessert plate, the sweetness of the treat offering a small reprieve from the heaviness of the situation. She picked up a spoonful and offered it to Bangchan, her eyes gentle and understanding.

"Here," she said softly. "Why don't you try a bite? It might help you feel a little better, even if just for a moment."

Bangchan looked at the dessert, a flicker of longing in his eyes. He hesitantly took the spoon from Y/N and took a small bite of the treat. His expression softened slightly as he savored the sweetness on his tongue.

"It's good, right?" Y/N asked, a small smile on her face. She could see the tension in his shoulders begin to ease, even if just a little.

Bangchan nodded, his mouth still full of the dessert. He swallowed the bite and spoke, a hint of a smile on his face. "Yeah… it is," he admitted. "Thanks, Y/N."

Y/N smiled, happy to see a small spark of joy in his eyes again. "You're welcome," she said warmly. "Sometimes, it's the small things that can make a difference, like a delicious dessert or a kind gesture."

Bangchan nodded, taking another bite of the dessert. He was quiet for a moment, lost in thought. Then he spoke again, his voice low. "You know… sometimes I wish I could just run away from it all. From the pressures of being a prince, from my father's impossible expectations."

Y/N listened intently, her expression sympathetic. She could sense the weight of the burden he was carrying. "I can imagine," she said quietly. "It must be overwhelming, having all that responsibility on your shoulders, plus the constant judgment and disappointment from your father."

Bangchan exhaled deeply, dropping the spoon back into the dessert plate. "Sometimes, I just feel so suffocated," he murmured. "Like I can't breathe, can't think straight. Like I'm drowning in the expectations and demands of everyone around me."

Y/N was taken aback by Bangchan's confession, but she could sense the weight of his emotions. She reached out and placed her hand over his, giving it a gentle squeeze.

"You don't have to carry it all alone," she said softly. "You have people who care about you, who are here for you."

Bangchan's head shifted upwards to meet her gaze, his eyes darkened with a mix of weariness and something deeper, something that sent shivers down Y/N's spine.

He didn't pull his hand away, and Y/N felt a pang of awareness at the contact. The air between them seemed to thicken, charged with a tension that was both thrilling and a little unsettling. His grip on her hand tightened for a moment, his thumb brushing lightly over her knuckles.

Y/N's heart raced, the touch of his hand on hers sending a thrill through her body. She tried to keep her expression neutral, masking the way her breath caught in her throat as he held her gaze, his eyes dark and intense.

Finally, Bangchan spoke, his voice low and gritty. "Sometimes… I just want to forget about everything and just… be in the moment, you know?" He paused, his thumb still tracing small circles on Y/N's hand. "Just… feel something other than this constant pressure and disappointment."

Y/N swallowed, her throat dry. She could feel the heat of his hand on hers, the intensity in his gaze making it difficult to focus on anything but him. "What do you want to feel?" she asked softly, her voice barely above a whisper.

Bangchan's eyes darkened even further, his voice even lower. "Anything… anything besides the stress and the weight of expectations." He paused again, and Y/N felt the air between them grow thicker, almost electric with tension. "When I'm with you… I feel something different. Something… lighter."

Y/N's breath caught in her chest as he spoke, the raw honesty in his words making her heart race. She could feel her own emotions conflicting - the loyalty and respect she had for her position as a personal assistant and the growing attraction and connection she felt towards Bangchan.

"I… I understand," she said, her voice barely more than a whisper. "But… we have our duties, our roles to play. It wouldn't be appropriate for us to…" She trailed off, the words sticking in her throat.

Bangchan's gaze didn't waver, his grip on her hand still firm. "Screw duty, screw roles," he muttered, his voice edged with frustration. "What about what we feel? What about what we want?"

Y/N's eyes widened at his blunt words, the raw honesty in them shaking her to the core. But there was also a flicker of desire there, a part of her that wanted to throw caution to the wind and give in to the growing attraction between them.

Her mind was screaming at her to protest, to remind him of their positions and the consequences of their actions. But her heart was overruling her head, the way his hand still held hers, the intense look in his darkened eyes, making all her sensible thoughts scatter.

"Chan…" she said quietly, her voice cracking with a mixture of fear and exhilaration. "We can't…" But even as she spoke the words, she could feel her resistance wavering, her body leaning slightly towards him.

Bangchan noticed the subtle change in her stance, the way she was drawn towards him despite her words of protest. He tightened his grip on her hand, his eyes never leaving hers. "Why not?" he asked, his voice low and gruff.

Y/N's heart was racing now, her body responding to his presence in a way she couldn't control. She tried to think of a good reason, a sensible argument against the undeniable pull between them. "Because… because we can't," she repeated weakly. "We have our responsibilities, our lives…"

But her words sounded hollow even to her own ears. Bangchan leaned closer, closing some of the distance between them, his voice dropping to a murmur. "And what if I don't care about responsibilities, or lives, or any of that bullshit?"

Bangchan closed the distance between them even more, his body now just a few inches from hers. His hand still gripped hers tightly, the heat between them growing stronger by the second. Y/N's breath came in shallow gasps, her mind struggling to hold onto any rational thought.

He leaned in closer, his mouth now hovering just above her ear. "Y/N…" he murmured, his voice a low rumble. "I don't care about any of it. All I care about is this… this feeling right here."

His breath was hot on her skin, sending shivers down her spine. She wanted to resist, to push him away, but her body wouldn't obey. Instead, she found herself leaning into him, her defenses crumbling with every word he spoke, every touch of his hand on hers.

He shifted even closer, his lips now brushing softly against the sensitive skin of her neck. "I want this," he murmured, his voice rough with desire. "I want you. Duty and responsibilities be damned."

Y/N gasped at the feel of his lips on her neck, her head tilting back automatically, offering more of her skin to his touch. Her body was responding to him in ways she couldn't control, her resistance faltering under the tide of desire that was crashing over her.

Bangchan took advantage of her exposed neck, his lips skimming lightly over her pulse point, making her shiver. "I don't care if it's wrong," he whispered, his mouth now trailing along her jawline, leaving behind a trail of fire. "I don't care about anything but you."

With a final surrendering thought, Y/N allowed herself to give in to her desires. She turned her head, her lips meeting Bangchan's in a heated kiss. It was like a dam bursting, all the pent-up tension between them finally breaking free. 

His hand snaked up to cup the back of her neck, holding her firmly in place as he returned the kiss with equal fervor. Their mouths moved together hungrily, years of suppressed emotions pouring out in the heat of the moment.

Y/N's brain was filled with only the sensations of Bangchan's body against hers, his taste, his touch. The world around them faded away, replaced only by the electricity sparking between them.

His tongue pushed into her mouth, deepening the kiss, and making it even more intense. She matched his passionate fervor, her own tongue dancing with his as they explored each other's mouths with mounting desperation.

Bangchan's hands were already tugging impatiently at the laces of her corset, his fingers fumbling in his eagerness. He broke the kiss, moving his mouth to her neck, trailing kisses down the exposed skin as he worked on the bindings of her corset.

"Need this off," he mumbled, his voice muffled against her skin. "Need to feel you."

Y/N's breath came in ragged gasps as he continued his assault on her neck, his hands working feverishly to undo the strings. The feel of his fingers on her bare skin, the heat of his mouth on her flesh, was almost overwhelming.

Finally, the last of the ties came undone, the corset loosening around her waist. He immediately took advantage, his hands roaming underneath the fabric, exploring her body with possessive need.

He pushed the corset dress off her shoulders, baring her upper body to his hungry gaze. He pulled back for a moment to look at her, his eyes dark and heated. "You're so beautiful," he whispered, his hand running down her flank, his touch almost reverent.

Y/N met his gaze, her chest rising and falling rapidly with each shallow breath. She could see the raw desire in his eyes, the way he looked at her like he could devour her. It was both intimidating and exhilarating.

He leaned in again, pressing his mouth to her collarbone, his tongue and lips mapping a burning path down the center of her chest.

As Bangchan continued his assault on her skin, Y/N's fingers tugged at the buttons of his shirt, unfastening them one by one. Her hands trembled slightly, still reeling from the onslaught of emotions and sensations flooding through her.

She pushed the shirt off his shoulders, her palms running over his bare chest, feeling the heat radiating from his skin. He shivered under her touch, his mouth still at her collar.

With every unbuttoned button, more of his body was revealed to her, the smooth expanse of his chest, the hard planes of his stomach, and the slight hint of muscle just underneath his skin. Her hands explored him with growing familiarity, her fingers tracing the ridges of his abs, the dip of his hipbones.

The corset dress pooled at Y/N's feet, leaving her in only her underwear. She stood there, feeling suddenly exposed and vulnerable under Bangchan's intense gaze.

He took in every inch of her body, his eyes roaming over her curves, lingering on the bare skin of her stomach, and the edge of her undergarments.

"God, you're perfect," he murmured, his voice ragged.

He stepped closer, his body almost pressed against hers. His fingers brushed over the curve of her waist, and the dip of her hip, as if mapping out her body in his mind.

"I've wanted this… wanted you… for so long," he admitted his mouth at her ear again. "I've dreamed about what you'd look like, feel like, taste like."

As he spoke, his hands continued to trace lazy patterns over her skin, his touch leaving trails of heat in their wake. Y/N shivered, her senses overwhelmed by the closeness of his body, the heat radiating off him, the huskiness of his voice against her ear.

They moved towards the bed, the tension between them palpable. The moment they hit the mattress, Bangchan was on top of her, his mouth on hers again in another hungry kiss.

His hands roamed over her body, his touch more aggressive now, as if he couldn't get enough of her. She met his intensity with her own, her hips arching up to meet his, a soft moan escaping her lips as their bodies connected.

Bangchan quickly removed his pants, discarding them to the side. He was bare and unabashed in his want, the evidence of his desire clearly visible.

He moved back on top of her, his body now pressed tightly against hers. The feeling of his skin on hers was addictive, her senses flooded by the heat and the need between them.

Bangchan grunted as she shifted her hips, grinding against him. His hands moved to hold her hips in place, keeping her in her spot.

"Careful," he warned, his voice thick with desire. "You keep doing that and I might lose all control."

Bangchan let out a strangled gasp, his fingers digging into her hips. He could feel himself losing control, the need for her becoming overpowering. 

"You're playing a dangerous game," he growled, his voice taut with restraint. "You won't be able to handle the fire you're stoking."

But Y/N didn't care. The fire was already consuming her, her mind filled with nothing but him, his body, his touch.

She shifted again, her legs wrapping around him, pulling him closer, deeper. "I don't want you to hold back," she whispered, her voice full of wanting. "I want all of you."

Bangchan let out a guttural sound, somewhere between a moan and a curse. He knew he was on the edge of restraint, the feel of her body against him, the sound of her voice in his ear, threatening to push him over the limit.

"You're going to drive me insane," he ground out, his body trembling with the effort to hold back.

With a swift, practiced move, Bangchan removed his boxers, discarding them next to the bed. His hands then moved to Y/N's hips, his fingers hooking into the edge of her underwear, tugging them down her legs.

His eyes roamed over her body, now completely bare to him, his gaze intense and appreciative. "God, you're so beautiful," he murmured, his hands running over her stomach, her hips, her thighs.

He moved back over her, his body hovering just above hers. His hands continued to roam over her skin, mapping out every dip and curve like he was trying to memorize her body with his touch.

"This is what I've wanted," he whispered, his mouth hovering just above her skin. "To feel you, skin to skin, nothing in between us."

Y/N responded with a soft gasp, her body arching up into his, her fingers clutching at his shoulders. The feeling of his skin on hers, the heat and the connection between them, was almost overwhelming. 

She looked up at him, her eyes hazy with want and pleasure, her voice barely above a whisper. "I'm ready for you."

He heard her words, the raw need and desire in them, and it was all he needed. With one fluid movement, he settled between her legs, his body fitting against hers like they were two pieces of a puzzle.

The feeling of him there, so intimately connected with her, made Y/N gasp, her eyes fluttering shut. He paused for a moment, allowing her to adjust, his mouth hovering just above hers, their breaths mingled together. 

"You okay?" he asked, his voice rough with restrained need.

Y/N nodded, her eyes opening to meet his gaze. "Yeah," she managed, her voice coming out as a shaky whisper. "I'm good. More than good."

He smiled a hint of pride and possession in his eyes. "Good," he said, before he began to move, slowly at first, but then with increasing speed and intensity.

He held her gaze as he moved, his hands on her hips, his body setting a relentless pace, driving them both toward ecstasy.

The room filled with the sounds of their breaths and gasps, the slick slide of skin on skin, and the faint creaking of the bed. Y/N's mind was a whirl of sensation, her body responding to his every move, every touch.

Her legs wrapped around him, pulling him deeper, her nails digging into his back. He grunted, his arms wrapping around her, his mouth finding hers in another heated kiss.

He moved within her, harder, faster, his pace unyielding, overwhelming her senses. The feeling of him inside her, filling her, was almost too much, the pleasure building with each stroke pushing her closer to the edge.

Her body arched up against his, writhing and undulating to his rhythm, matching his pace with her own need. She could feel the tension coiling low in her stomach, the anticipation of release building with every moment.

"I'm close," he groaned, his voice strained, his body trembling with the effort to hold on. "I can't… I can't last much longer."

Y/N's breath was coming in short pants now, her body on the brink, clinging to him tightly, desperately.

"Let go," she whispered, her voice barely more than a gasp. "I want to feel you."

Her words, her voice, the sound of her breathing, it was enough to send him over the edge. He buried his face in her neck, his body shuddering as he climaxed, his movements becoming erratic as he rode the waves of pleasure.

Y/N followed moments later, his release pushing her over the edge into ecstasy. She cried out, her body shaking, and trembling in the aftermath of her orgasm.

They lay there for a moment, panting and spent, still tangled together, their bodies slick with sweat and still trembling with aftershocks.

He shifted, rolling off of her but still keeping her close, pulling her into his arms. They lay there in silence, the only sound of the ragged breathing and the soft rustling of sheets as they tried to slow their racing heartbeats.

Bangchan held Y/N in his arms, his hands gentle and soothing as he started the aftercare process. He stroked her hair, whispering soft praises and reassurances in her ear.

"You were incredible," he said, his voice low and warm. "You're so beautiful, so perfect."

He gently pulled the covers over them, making sure she was comfortable, his touch tender and caring.

"How are you feeling?" he asked, his eyes tracing her face, searching for any sign of discomfort or distress. "Are you okay?"

Y/N smiled weakly, her body still recovering from their intensity. "I'm okay," she reassured him, her voice a little shaky. "Just… a little overwhelmed."

Bangchan nodded, understanding in his eyes. "Just rest," he said, pulling her closer. "I've got you. You can sleep."

He continued to softly caress her hair and her back, his touch soothing and comfortable. "I'm here," he whispered, his voice a soft, low rumble. "I'm not going anywhere."

Y/N burrowed into his chest, feeling safe and protected in his arms. She let her eyes close, her body gradually relaxing as she listened to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat.

As Y/N drifts off to sleep in Bangchan’s arms, he holds her close, whispering sweet nothings into her ear until her breathing becomes steady and even. 

He lies there for a while, watching her sleep, his mind replaying the events of the night, a mixture of emotions playing across his face.

Finally, he closes his eyes, drifting off to sleep with her tucked safely against him, the sound of her soft breathing the only sound in the room.

~~~~~~~~~~

Taglist: @manuosorioh @xxkissesforchanniexx @stayceebs97 @lubileaf

Series Masterlist

~~~~~~~~~~

Love in the Crown - King! Bangchan x Maid! Reader ~ *

Dancing Hearts - Idol! Hyunjin x Idol! Reader ~

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𝘜𝘴𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘱𝘳𝘰𝘮𝘱𝘵 - 𝘠/𝘯: "𝘛𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘴𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘥𝘴 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶'𝘳𝘦 𝘧𝘭𝘪𝘳𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘮𝘦." 𝘉𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘯: "…𝘐'𝘷𝘦 𝘣𝘦𝘦𝘯 𝘵𝘳𝘺𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘰 𝘥𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘳𝘦𝘦 𝘺𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘴 𝘯𝘰𝘸."

𝓒𝔀: 𝓑𝓮𝓼𝓽 𝓯𝓻𝓲𝓮𝓷𝓭𝓼 𝓽𝓸 𝓵𝓸𝓿𝓮𝓻𝓼, 𝓯𝓮𝓶! 𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓭𝓮𝓻, 𝓵𝓸𝓿𝓮 𝓼𝓲𝓬𝓴 𝓬𝓱𝓪𝓻𝓪𝓬𝓽𝓮𝓻𝓼, 𝓯𝓵𝓾𝓯𝓯

𝓦𝓸𝓻𝓭 𝓒𝓸𝓾𝓷𝓽: 1817

𝓔𝓼𝓽𝓲𝓶𝓪𝓽𝓮𝓭 𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓭𝓲𝓷𝓰 𝓽𝓲𝓶𝓮: 7 𝓶𝓲𝓷 6 𝓼𝓮𝓬

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Bangchan walked through the park alongside Y/n, their shoulders brushing as they strolled. The sun was setting, and the sky was painted with hues of orange and pink.

Bangchan turned to look at Y/n, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips. "You know, you look beautiful in this light," he said, his voice low and smooth.

Y/n blushed, ducking her head. "Thanks," she said, feeling a flicker of something unfamiliar in her chest.

As they continued to walk, Bangchan couldn't help but notice how Y/n's hair shone in the setting sun and how her laughter seemed to fill the air with a melody. He had always found her attractive, and over the years, his feelings for her had grown into something more than friendship.

Y/n was feeling equally conflicted. She had always known Bangchan as a close friend, someone she could trust and rely on. But lately, his words and actions towards her had been different - more romantic, almost. She found herself blushing more frequently at his compliments and seeking his company more often.

As they reached a bench, Bangchan gestured for Y/n to sit down. He sat down next to her, their legs touching slightly.

"I have to tell you something," he said, his voice suddenly serious.

Y/n looked at him, surprised. "What is it?" she asked, her heart suddenly pounding in her chest.

Bangchan took a deep breath, gathering his thoughts. "I...I don't know how to say this, but...I've been feeling something for you," he said, his eyes fixed on her face.

“This sounds like you’re flirting with me.” Y/n says as she looks over to Bangchan. “...I’ve been trying to do that for three years now.” Bangchan says back.

Y/n blinked, her mind scrambling to process his words. "You...you've been flirting with me for three years?" she repeated, disbelief mixing with budding hope.

Bangchan nodded, a sheepish smile on his face. "Yeah. I've been trying to drop hints and show you how I feel, but I guess I'm not very good at it," he said, rubbing the back of his neck in embarrassment.

Y/n couldn't help but laugh at his confession. "Wow, I had no idea. No one's ever tried to flirt with me so subtly before," she said, still trying to wrap her head around the fact that her best friend had been secretly flirting with her for years.

Bangchan chuckled, relieved that she was taking it well. "Yeah, I didn't want to scare you or make things weird," he explained. "But I couldn't keep it to myself anymore. I needed to tell you how I feel."

Y/n was silent for a moment as she processed everything. Her mind was a whirlwind of thoughts and emotions. On one hand, she wanted to be happy that someone as wonderful as Bangchan had been silently pining after her for years. On the other hand, she felt a nagging worry that things might change between them now that their feelings were out in the open.

Bangchan seemed to sense her hesitation. "Y/n, you don't have to say anything right now," he said, reaching out to take her hand. "I just needed to get it off my chest. And if you don't feel the same, that's okay. I'm happy to just be your friend."

Y/n's heart felt like it was going to burst out of her chest. The touch of his hand on hers sent a flutter of emotions through her body. She looked at him, seeing the mixture of hope and uncertainty in his eyes.

"It's not that I don't feel something," Y/n spoke carefully, her words measured. "It's just...I never thought you saw me that way. You're one of my closest friends, and I don't want to ruin what we have."

Bangchan nodded, understanding her concerns. "I know, I feel the same way," he said, his thumb stroking her skin. "But I also know that I couldn't go on pretending to just be your friend when I feel so much more. I had to take the risk."

Y/n looked down at their hands, intertwined on the bench. She took a moment to really consider her feelings. Her heart was a maelstrom of conflicting emotions, but one thing was clear: she cared deeply for Bangchan. She cared for him more than just a friend.

Y/n speaks up, "I... I like you too." Y/n confesses.

Bangchan's eyes widened at her words, a mix of surprise and joy on his face. He had hoped for this, but hearing her say it sent a wave of happiness coursing through him.

"Really?" he asked, his voice soft. "You're not just saying that because I just confessed?"

Y/n shook her head, a smile growing on her lips. "No, I'm not," she said, her voice steady. "I've been feeling something for you for a while now, but I was just as confused and scared as you to say anything."

Bangchan's heart felt like it was soaring. He couldn't believe that this was happening, that his secret feelings were reciprocated. He squeezed her hand slightly, his thumb tracing patterns on her skin. "I'm glad you feel the same. For a while, I was worried I was going crazy, feeling these things for my best friend," he admitted with a chuckle.

Y/n laughed softly, "I know what you mean. I felt so silly getting all flustered whenever you were around. And I could never figure out if you were actually flirting with me or just being friendly."

Bangchan grinned, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "Oh, most of those were definitely intentional attempts at flirting," he said, chuckling. "I was testing the waters, trying to see if you'd pick up on it."

Y/n raised an eyebrow, a smile playing on her lips. "You sneaky devil," she teased. "You had me all puzzled, trying to figure out your strange behavior."

Bangchan chuckled again, his shoulders shaking. "Well, it looks like my cunning plan worked," he said, his tone lighthearted. "After three years of subtle flirting, I finally got you to admit you like me back."

Y/n rolled her eyes playfully, shaking her head in mock exasperation. "You're insufferable, you know that?" she said, though her words were without malice. She found his self-satisfaction endearing. "But yeah, your plan worked. Congrats, Chan."

Bangchan wiggled his eyebrows at her. "I should get some credit for my persistence," he said, a playful smirk on his lips. "Three years of flirting is a lot time invested, you know."

"What would you like then? Me being your girlfriend?" Y/n jokes to Chan.

Bangchan pretended to think for a moment, tapping his chin thoughtfully. "Hmmm...I suppose that would be a suitable reward for my years of effort," he said dramatically, leaning back against the bench. "You being my girlfriend - yes, I think that will do nicely."

Y/n couldn't help but laugh at his overacted response. But the thought of being his girlfriend made her heart flutter. "Well, in that case, I guess I have no choice but to officially agree to be your girlfriend," she said, jokingly feigning reluctance.

Bangchan smiled widely, unable to contain his joy. "I'm glad you've decided to give in to my charms," he teased, pulling her closer to him on the bench.

As the night continued, the two of them talked and laughed like old times, but the undercurrent of their new romantic feelings added a thrilling element to their banter. When the sky grew dark, Bangchan walked Y/n home, holding her hand the entire way.

As they reached her doorstep, they paused, both reluctant for the night to end.

"This was a great night," Bangchan said, still holding her hand.

"It really was," Y/n agreed, leaning against her door. She looked at him, feeling a mix of emotions - excitement, nervousness, and a deep affection. "So, officially I'm your girlfriend now, right?" she asked, a smile playing on her lips.

Bangchan grinned, stepping closer to her. "Officially my girlfriend," he affirmed, his voice softer now. He reached out and brushed a strand of hair away from her face, his touch gentle.

Y/n's heart skipped a beat at his tender gesture. She felt a wave of warmth spread through her. "Well, I guess I should get inside," she said reluctantly.

Bangchan nodded, equally reluctant to end the night. "Yeah, I should head back too," he said, but he didn't move away. He was standing mere inches from her, the closeness making her breath hitch.

They stood there for a moment, neither wanting to break the spell. Y/n's eyes kept drifting to his lips, wondering what they'd feel like against hers. Bangchan's gaze was fixed on her face, his eyes dark with an unmistakeable desire.

Finally, Bangchan spoke, his voice low and hoarse. "Can I..." he began, then he cleared his throat and started again, "Can I kiss you goodnight?"

Y/n's heart pounded in her chest at his words. She had been waiting for him to ask, her own longing mirrored in his eyes. "Yes," she breathed, her voice almost a whisper.

Bangchan didn't need any more encouragement. He stepped closer, closing the small gap between them. One hand came up to cup her face, his other arm wrapped around her waist, drawing her against him. His eyes met hers for a brief moment before he leaned down, his lips gently pressing against hers.

The kiss was electric, sending a jolt of pleasure through Y/n's body. Her eyes fluttered closed and she leaned into him, one hand coming up to clutch his shirt. The feeling of being against him, his strong arms holding her close, was intoxicating. The kiss deepened, both of them losing themselves in the sensation.

When they finally pulled away, breathless and a little dizzy, Bangchan rested his forehead against hers. "God, I've wanted to do that for so long," he murmured, his fingers tracing feather-light patterns along her cheek.

Y/n nodded, her eyes still closed as she tried to catch her breath. "Me too," she agreed. "I can't believe it took us this long." They stood there, still in each other's arms, trying to calm their racing hearts.

Finally, Bangchan reluctantly withdrew, his hands lingering on her waist. "I should really go," he said, though his tone was anything but decisive.

Y/n nodded, equally reluctant to let him go. "Yeah, it's getting late," she agreed.

They exchanged a lingering look, silently saying goodbye for the night. Finally, Bangchan took a step back, breaking the connection. "Goodnight, y/n," he said, his voice carrying a hint of regret.

“Goodnight, lover boy” Y/n jokes as she turned to head inside. “I’ll talk to you tomorrow, and text me when you get home, please.”