All alphas get a little crazy when a rut is on the horizon. Instincts immediately push them toward being territorial, possessive, and more than a little bit protective. Chan, however, has always been a little bit more possessive than most, and especially when it comes to you. Not that you’re complaining. Not in the slightest.
A/N: I’ve been sitting on this stupid drabble, partially written, for weeks. It was never quite what I wanted it to be. After a little bit of rewriting, I think I’m finally happy with it. At least enough to let you all see it. XD
Tags: SKZ, SKZ Drabble, Stray Kids, OT8, SKZ!Pack, Poly!SKZ, SKZ!ABO, ABO, Alpha Beta Omega Dynamics, OT8 x you, OT8 x reader, SKZ x you, SKZ xreader, Fluff, Smut, Bang Chan, Seo Changbin, Hwang Hyunjin, Lee Minho, Lee Felix, Yang Jeongin, Han Jisung, Kim Seungmin
Genre: Fluff, Light Smut
Title: Moonmates
“Hey, hyung, do you want to play a game?”
Minho rolls his eyes. “Is it called ‘push Minho until he snaps and murders you’?”
Jisung leans toward him across the kitchen table, chin in his hands, and you recognize the face, the puppy dog eyes, the pout pulling at his full bottom lip.
That’s his ‘make minho do whatever I want’face.
It’s Jisung’s special, and it only ever works if the beta’sthe one wearing it, because trust you, you’ve tried.
Dammit, have you tried.
Minho sighs, and you watch him fold before your very eyes.
“Fine. What do you want?”
Jisung smiles so brightly it’s blinding, and you’re laughing now, watching the two of them together-the overly excited beta, the long suffering alpha-drawing Minho’s glare in your direction.
You hold up your hands. “Hey, I’m not even here. Take your stink eye elsewhere.”
Minho huffs out an annoyed sigh and finally turns back to Jisung, and you note, with slight amusement, that his glare instantly diminishes when it falls back on the waiting beta.
“What’s the game, Jisung.”
It’s not a question, but Jisung doesn’t even waver beneath the alpha’s stare, his grin growing wider and more mischievous by the second.
The kitchen smells like a laundromat.
“It’s a game I just made up actually.”
Minho scoffs, another eye roll. “Figures.”
Jisung crosses his arms and pouts, but it’s not long that he can keep the smile off his lips, bouncing excitedly in his seat as he reaches out and grabs Minho’s hands between his own, playing with his fingers as he talks.
“Okay, no, listen. It’ll be fun.” Jisung sneaks you a knowing sidelong glance, and suddenly you’re worried that this ‘game’ of his is going to come at your expense. He flicks his gaze back to Minho, and suddenly the grin is much closer to a smirk. “Hyung’s rut is coming up soon.”
“It’s literally marked on the calendar.” Minho deadpans, pointing toward the shared calendar that hangs on the kitchen fridge, littered with the pack’s notes and deadlines, where the end of next week is circled in red and marked in bold sloping letters that look an awful like Hyunjin’s- ‘Chan’s rut.’
“Yeah, I know, that’s not the point.” Jisung huffs and Minho rolls his eyes, but shuts up, and Jisung seems pacified, because he continues on, words a hurried mess. “Anyway, we all know how hyung gets around that time.”
You know where this is going, and you don’t like it.
This game is gonna get messy quickly.
“Yeah, a possessive asshole.” Minho states matter of factly, and you think by the slight tick of his jaw that he knows where this is going as well. “Get to the point, Jisung.”
“Anyway-” Jisung overrides him, raising his voice in pitch, glaring down the alpha bravely so he doesn’t interrupt him again. The smirk is back as he glances over at you, sitting silently, observing the conversation. “Hyung gets possessive with everyone, yeah, but it’s the worst with her.”
You decide to play dumb. “Me? I hadn’t noticed.”
You had, in fact, noticed.
Chan’s ruts were intense, to say the least, his head alpha at the forefront, and he was markedly even more possessive if possible with the members of the pack during that time, but that wasn’t uncommon for an alpha dealing with overpowering pheromones.
Whatwasuncommon, was that Chan’s alpha seemed to focus even more on your own during that time.
It was as if his wolf, spurred into overprotective mode, saw you-the lone female-as the weakest link, which you both knew was far from true, but you didn’t mess with a wolf crazed by hormones and instinct, so you let him baby you a bit more, claim you a bit more, shadow you a bit more, and after a week or so, things went back to normal.
Both Jisung and Minho are staring at you now, and you pull yourself back from your thoughts, clearing your throat.
“What does this stupid game have to do with me?”
Jisung turns to you now, angling his body to face you head on, hands clasped in a sort of evil mastermind position before him, matching the smirk that pulls at his full bottom lip.
“The game has everythingto do with you, noona. You’re the prize after all.”
Your wolf snarls at the insinuation but you keep your expression blank as you stare him down, waiting for him to continue.
“We’re all gonna see how far we can push hyung before he snaps.” Jisung announces proudly, sitting back in his chair, as if he has just explained everything in that one sentence.
“That sounds-” You quirk a brow and look to Minho, but his expression is as unreadable as usual. “-dangerous.”
“C’mon.” Jisung whines. “We both know Chan wouldn’t ever actually hurt any of us, and the semester is over and I’m bored. Everyone else already agreed. Don’t be party poopers.”
“Everyone?” Minho asks skeptically, arching a dark brow at the simpering beta.
Jisung sits back up, slapping his palms down on the table, and you hide a smile at the way he tries to pretend he didn’t wince at the violent contact.
“Everyone. Now, c’mon, it’s just all good fun, a way to pass the time.” He turns back to you, eyes wide, but the puppy dog face doesn’t work on you nearly as well as it works on Minho. “We can’t play without you, noona. Please?”
You sigh. “Look, I’m not playing anything. If the rest of you want to risk your lives by getting overly touchy or possessive of me to egg Chan on, then be my guest. The only involvement I’ll give is being passive about the whole thing.”
Jisung takes it as a win, mouthing a quick yes, before he fist pumps and turns to the silent Minho, and you can see, by the way his lip juts, that he’s got his ‘minho please’ face on once again.
Minho sighs. “Fine.”
Jisung crows in triumph and you shoot the other alpha a look that clearly says god, you’re whipped, and the glare Minho returns is nothing short of I’ll kill you in your sleep if you say a single word.
And you don’t doubt he could, so you merely smirk and leave the kitchen without another word.
*****
The game starts when you’re all walking to the corner store that Friday night, it’s close to 1 am and the omegas had begged you all to go with them for late night snacks, and the city lights are sparkling in the darkness, the well trodden pavement from your apartment to the little store warm beneath the soles of your sneakers.
Chan slides his hand into your own, slowing his pace to walk beside you, and you glance over at him in surprise, lips slightly parted, as you ask, “Why are you holding my hand?”
Chan shrugs and gives you a side long grin. “I dunno. Why are you asking?”
You shrug in response and swing your hands together as you walk, glancing up at the crisp stars that are starting to line the inky edges of the sky.
“I dunno. You just usually hold one of the omegas’ hands or something.”
Unless you’re in pre-rut, you want to add, but bite back the words that threaten the tip of your tongue.
“I want to hold your hand.” Chan replies casually, arching a brow at you as you continue to match his pace, step for step. “Is that okay?”
“Yeah, it just surprised me.” You offer him a hint of a smile and catch Jisung’s eye over his shoulder, the beta giving you a smirk and a look that clearly hints at see, I was right, as his eyes dart down to your hand enclosed firmly within Chan’s.
Instantly, he’s bounding over to the two of you and sliding in between you, separating your fingers.
“Hey, can I walk with you guys?”
You shoot Jisung a glare, but he dutifully ignores you, glancing at Chan’s expression before he slides his hands into your own, linking the three of you, successfully putting himself between you and the other alpha.
“Yeah-” Chan says, obviously caught off guard by the beta’s sudden appearance, but not appearing put out by it in the slightest as he reaches up to ruffle Jisung’s hair affectionately. “-though you already kind of invited yourself, Jisungie.”
“I can’t help it.” Jisung complains, shooting you a knowing look, before he pouts up at Chan. “(Y/N) just smells really good right now, wouldn’t you agree, hyung?”
Chan shoots you an amused, slightly confused look over the beta’s head. “I guess?”
You roll your eyes and pick up your pace, pulling them with you toward the others, who have grown farther ahead the longer Jisung has made you loiter.
“Pretty sure that’s just the KBBQ from down the street you’re smelling. C’mon Romeo, stop drooling and let’s go before Changbin gets all the good snacks.”
Jisung smirks at you and you resist the urge to wipe it off his face.
*****
It’s not that Chan’s not affectionate with you on a daily basis-he is-it’s just that the week before his rut, he gets a little more into skinship than usual, and by little more, you mean a lot.
It’s always just little, innocent touches-sliding his hand along the small of your back as he slips past you in the kitchen, brushing his fingers along the skin of your throat when he straightens your jacket, pressing a quick, little bit longer than necessary, kiss against the crown of your head when he leaves for the studio-but the little touches add up, and you’d never admit it, but Chan’s pre-rut is always hell for your wolf.
Every stupid little touch has your wolf whimpering for more, begging for the other alpha not to leave, and every whiff of petrichor has you physically clenching up, biting back the whine that wants to escape from between your teeth, the whine that cleary begs-
Please, please, pleasetake me, head alpha. I’ll go willingly.
So maybe, the game Jisung came up with is a bad idea-a terrible idea even-but in a way, it does give you some sort of twisted relief, because if the other seven are touching you, are all over you even, then that means that Chan isn’t.
So it’s almost a welcome distraction from watching the clock tick down painfully-counting the last few minutes until Chan gets home-when Hyunjin slides into your space on the couch, instantly plastering his body against your side, arms going around your waist.
The air is filled with the sharp scent of lemon, and it’s a relief not to have to smell your own headache-inducing floral for the first time in several days.
Hyunjin noses into you, and you giggle, reaching up to card fingers through his hair as you complain, “Seriously? You too? Chan’s not even home yet.”
Hyunjin gasps, wounded, and pulls back from you-ever the drama queen.
“I can’t believe you would say such a thing, noona. I just like being close to you, that’s all.”
“Mhm.” You hum under your breath skeptically, raising a brow in the omega’s direction, as he offers you a sweet smile.
“That and-” Hyunjin continues, leaning back into your space again and rubbing his cheek all over you, leaving the tang of lemon and honey behind everywhere he touches, sticking to you like a sweet film, and when he looks at you again, there’s a hint of mischief in his dark, wide eyes. “-Hyung’s gonna be home in three, two, one-” The sound of the front door opening has Hyunjin grinning at you triumphantly as you sigh and shoot him a pointedly stern look.
Chan appears in the doorway, backpack thrown over his shoulder, and you note the exhaustion in his eyes before he quickly hides it back away and offers the two of you a hint of a tired smile, nostrils flared slightly as he takes in the room.
Your wolf keens needily at the sight of him.
“Why does it smell so overwhelmingly of Hyunjin in here?”
“Because he’s overwhelming?” You offer innocently, as Hyunjin gasps dramatically in offense once more and Chan grins.
It’s almost enough to keep the tired whines of your wolf at bay.
Almost.
*****
The morning of Chan’s rut, you wake up on edge.
Every one of your nerve endings feels raw and bristling, as if waiting for something to push you just over the edge, everything-scents and sounds and packmates-is all just a little too much.
You feel exhausted, and you can’t even imagine how Chan-the one actuallyin rut-is handling it.
You find yourself staring into your cereal bowl more than eating it, as Jisung and Hyunjin argue over something nonconsequential on the other side of the table from you, and Minho pours more coffee into his already empty mug.
Changbin appears in the doorway to the kitchen, already bundled into his coat, Seungmin at his heels.
“We’re going out.” The other alpha announces, and when Minho shoots them a quizzical look, Changbin grunts beneath his breath, “Chan gets pissy with me when he’s in rut. And I’d rather just avoid that all together this year.”
“Smart move.” Minho toasts him with his coffee cup before taking a long, slow sip.
“Yeah, he really only likes (Y/N) during his rut huh?” Jisung muses with a smug smirk, and you not so subtly flip him off from the other side of the table, a pounding headache already mounting behind your eyes. .
“That’s cause she’s like his soulmate or something.” Jeongin appears then, the youngest omega bright eyed and bushy tailed, as he reaches into the fridge for some orange juice.
Everyone stares at him silently, and he shrugs. “What? Minho-hyung explained it to me.”
“Well duh.” Jisung snorts. “We’re a pack. We’re all each other’s soulmates.”
“Not true.” Seungmin speaks up, stepping around Changbin to enter the kitchen, as he easily steals one of Hyunjin’s bacon slices off his plate, earning him a glare from the older omega. He chews thoughtfully for a moment. “I mean, I guess in a way it’s true? All pack members are usually soulmates in some form or another, but that doesn’t mean there’s not a certain member of each pack that belongs with another more than the others. And it’s called a moonmate, Innie.” The beta corrects gently, ruffling the youngest omega’s hair fondly.
Minho sighs and sits back in his chair. “God, it’s too early for this.”
“It’s 9 am.” Changbin points out helplessly, and Minho shoots him a glare.
“I have a headache.” You add unhelpfully, rubbing at your temples with your fingers.
“Listen, it’s like this.” Seungmin sits down next to Jisung, who still looks confused, and points at Felix, who has just entered the kitchen, hair still tousled from sleep. “Who does Felix need when he’s in heat?”
“An alpha.” Jisung replies immediately, looking proud of himself, as Hyunjin rolls his eyes from beside him.
“Yeah, okay.” Seungmin agrees patiently, as Felix settles himself down behind Hyunjin, chin going into the crook of his neck, arm around his shoulders. “So he needsan alpha, but who does he want?”
Understanding is dawning in Jisung’s eyes now. “Hyunjin.”
Seungmin nods. “Exactly. Because Hyunjin is Felix’s moonmate. Just like (Y/N) is hyung’s moonmate.”
You let your head slump to the table, and the cold formica feels heavenly beneath the heated flush of your skin, and you point halfheartedly in Jisung’s direction without opening your eyes.
“And your moonmate is Minho, because you’re bitch whipped for him.”
Jisung gasps and stutters over his next words and you bet if you looked, he’s gone beet red and is avoiding Minho’s smug, knowing gaze.
“What-no-’that’s not even-hyung!”
He’s whining to Changbin for help, but Changbin is already herding Seungmin out the door once more.
“Sorry, Jisungie, can’t hear you, got to go.”
With your eyes closed and your head on the cool table, the noise of the rest of your mates talking and the clink of spoons in bowls fades to the background, and you’re all too aware, suddenly, of the smell of incoming rain.
Your wolf whines.
Your body is aching, and as the scent of petrichor floods your senses, and the headache behind your eyes becomes a dull roar, you feel like anythingwould be better than this.
Even if that meant losing Jisung’s stupid game.
*****
Minho ends up winning the game in the end.
He does it in an entirely Minho-like way too, all sneaky and deceptive, telling you that he needs to show you something, but really, that’s just bullshit, and now he’s pinning you against Chan’s closed door.
“Minho.” You whine furtively, eyes shifting to glance behind him, wondering how difficult it would be to try and escape.
Probably pretty difficult. Minho is deceptively strong. And quick.
Here, held against the entrance to Chan’s room, the smell of rain is almost too much to bear, and your wolf is going crazy-whining and circling, begging-and it’s getting harder and harder to stop yourself from physically drooling.
“(Y/N).” Minho repeats back mockingly, a slight smirk curving his full upper lip as he holds you in place with a hand on either side of your head.
“You’re playing dirty.” You protest weakly, because Chan’s overwhelming scent is making you dizzy, and your wolf is pacing impatiently. “Let me go.” “No.” Minho denies you easily, shaking his head. “This is for your own good.”
Maybe it’s because you’re physically pliabledue to Chan’s rut strengthened scent, or maybe it’s the fact that the headache you’ve had ever since the start of his rut hasn’t gone away in days, maybe it’s because you’re just straight up exhausted from denying your instincts-but whatever it is, when Minho leans into your space and scentsyou, you straight up moan, and it’s embarrassing.
“That’s a good girl.” Minho murmurs beneath his breath, lips brushing the skin of your throat, and you can feel his smile against your skin, as you reach out without thinking and clench your fingers around his upper arms, tugging him to you desperately.
“Not fair.” You whimper out halfheartedly, as Chan’s scent diminishes a little as you hear the shower turn on somewhere inside the closed off room, and god, it’s maybe the only small consolation you have, that he probably can’t hear the way you’re stupidly weak kneed for Minho in this moment.
Minho pulls back, his pupils wide and dark, swallowing the swirling gold of his irises, and he tilts his head as he studies you curiously, lips still pulled upward into that damn smirk.
“What do you want, sweetheart?”
What do you want? You don’t know.
Because your body, flush with Minho’s, backed against Chan’s door, wants him, wants the alpha in front of you, but there’s a tiny part of your brain that is balking at the idea, a slight swell of nausea building in your stomach at the strong notes of amber clogging the air, and your wolf is snarling, snapping, urging you to find the otheralpha, the one who smells like rain and damp and storm.
God, Minho is so deliciously hot, and the human side of your body desperately wants to pull him into your room and destroy him right here and now, but your wolf is too loud, and your headache is back with a vengeance, pounding in your temples, and everything feels wrong-
Minho looks completely nonplussed, standing in front of you, caging you in, waiting, watchingfor your answer.
You realize too late by the way his eyebrow lifts triumphantly that he has you exactly where he wants you.
“I want-”
Minho takes your chin in his fingers, ghosts his thumb over the outline of your lips. “Say it.”
You’re panting now, and god, is it hot in here, or is it just you?, and the scent of rain is back now, all too strong and all too close, and suddenly, before you can stop yourself, you’re blurting out, “Chan! I want Chan.”
Minho looks vindicated, and you simultaneously want to punch him and have his tongue down your throat all at the same time.
“Good girl.” He praises in a low voice, eyes flicking toward the door at your back, as if he’s expectantly waiting for something.
The door pulls open all too suddenly, and Minho’s arms going around you are the only things that keep you from falling abruptly onto your ass with a high pitched little shriek.
Chan is standing there in all his bronzed glory, towel wrapped low around his hips, hair still damp and curly from the shower, and god, was he always this pretty? How does he look so put together on the second day of his rut?
“What’re you doing?” Chan asks in confusion, eyeing you and Minho, the other alpha’s arms still looped around your waist, and you can’t tell anything by his expression, eyes dark and unreadable.
Mate, your wolf whimpers, wanting to draw toward him, but you stay firmly rooted in place, still staring at him with your mouth slightly open.
Stop. Drooling.
“Nothing.” Minho answers nonchalantly, and if he’s immediately overwhelmed by Chan’s damp smelling hormones like you are, he doesn’t show it, not even flinching in the face of the other male’s rut. “I was just telling (Y/N) that she should check on you.”
Something flashes across Chan’s gaze-hesitation?- and he takes a step back from the two of you, hand still on the doorknob.
“I don’t think that’s a good idea-”
“Why?” Minho questions casually, and the smirk is back, his eyes flicking between you and Chan-the way you stand rooted to the spot, the way Chan is backing away from you like you might explode at any moment. “I think it’s a great idea.”
Chan shakes his head, and he’s breathing through his mouth now, chest rising and falling quickly, as if he’s trying to filter out your scent before it can reach his rut frenzied brain.
You only just now notice the dark smudging beneath his eyes, the tired circles marking the tan skin like fading bruises.
“Minho-”
Chan’s voice is low, almost a growl, a warning to the other alpha.
Minho ignores it completely.
“Okay, well if you don’t want her to check on you, then I guess wecan find something to do-” Minho leans into you, pulling you back against him, eyes still on Chan, as his mouth hovers over your scent gland, tongue darting out to wet his lips, barely brushing your skin and making you shiver.
The headache is a thundering force now.
Minho’s fingers tighten their hold on your wrist, and suddenly, the sound of a low, threatening growl is ripping apart the air between you.
“Don’t, Minho.” Chan warns from between clenched teeth, eyes swirling like molten copper, body tense, teeth bared.
Chan’s head alpha’s appearance makes you shiver and forces your wolf to cower, but Minho looks nothing but triumphantly smug, as he finally releases you and stares down Chan with that infuriating smirk.
“Check mate.”
Chan loops his fingers around your now unoccupied wrist and tugs you into the room behind him, angling his body between you and Minho, as if the other grinning alpha is a threat.
The threatening rumble emanating from his chest has not diminished in the slightest.
“Have fun.” Minho simply says, still grinning ear to ear, before he shoots you a pointed look that says I just won, and shuts the door before Chan can get any more worked up.
Chan’s room smells so overwhelmingly of thunderclouds that it instantly makes you salivate, your knees weakening just enough that you lean against the other alpha.
Chan has other ideas.
His fingers are pinched around your wrist just tight enough that it stings a little, and you can’t help the small whimper that slips past your lips as he pulls you over to the bed, not even throwing you a glance over his shoulder.
You acquiesce easily-your wolf begging pathetically-as Chan pushes you down onto his sheets and looms over you, tossing his leg over your body, knees on either side of your hips, holding you in place with hands pinned above your head.
You’ve never seen his irises so fiery golden before, and your wolf is reacting embarrassingly, rolling over on its back and baring its throat for alpha.
You try to shove it back down with little to no success as his lip curls, revealing the white flash of his teeth, before he leans over and nips at your pulse point, the force behind the action almost making it painful as his sharp canines drag across your skin.
God, it’s hard to think when the whole room smells like an impending storm.
You huff out an amused breath, and when Chan pulls back slightly to look at you, you offer him the hint of a smirk, wiggling your fingers where they’re intertwined with his own, still pinned, immovable, above your head.
“Feeling a little possessive today, are we, puppy?”
Another low growl escapes from between Chan’s lips and your wolf is excited now, turning circles, begging you to push him, to see how far he’ll go.
You cock your head, studying him, the smirk still on your lips.
“Did you not like it when the other alpha touched me, Channie?”
“Don’t tease me.” Chan grates out between clenched teeth, eyes flashing dangerously, and adrenaline spikes through your body at the commanding tone behind his words.
The storm brewing in the air around you rises to almost unbearable levels.
“Why not?” You question innocently, playing the part of the brat to the fullest, just to see where it gets you.
You cock an eyebrow and return his simmering golden stare even though your wolf is flattening its ears slowly in submission already.
He doesn’t need to know that. Not yet.
Instead, in a brave motion, even for yourself, you surge upward as best you can with your arms trapped behind you, and place your lips against the other alpha’s ear, mouth brushing across his hot skin with each word.
You don’t miss the way his body shudders at the sudden contact, and the self satisfied smirk grows wider.
“What’s wrong, Channie? Does it bother you to watch our packmates allover me when you’re trying so hardnot to lose control, hmm?”
Another growl, and then Chan is pinning you back beneath him with so much determined force that you lose your breath for a second.
The gold is swirling so violently now that it’s mesmerizing, and the air is heavy and thick with incoming rain.
“I hate it.” He growls out, voice low and strong in the back of his throat, teeth clenched as if he’s physically in pain. “God, I hate it so much. Watching them touch you, I wanted to-”
He shudders again, swallowing hard, and when he opens his eyes, there’s a little less alpha and a little more Chan swirling in his irises, if only for a brief moment.
“Wanted to what?” You push, wiggling one of your hands free. He lets you, and you reach up to trace a finger over the line of his cupid’s bow, admiring the way his plush, full lips give beneath the tip of your finger.
Chan sighs, long and hard, as if he’s trying to right himself, but the gold is creeping back in, and he’s giving in to it, you can see it, feelit, in the way your wolf is baring all again for the incoming head alpha.
Suddenly, there’s wolf in Chan’s eyes and not a whole lot of himself.
He leans in and licks across the pink mating mark that covers most of your skin at the juncture of your shoulder, and it’s your turn to shiver, as he suddenly reveals his teeth, dragging them pointedly across your aching scent gland.
“I wanted to rip them all apart.”
His words have something suddenly aching within you, and you don’t know if it’s want, or if it’s simply your wolf, riled beyond belief, by the strong, heady rut pheromones Chan is practically oozing, but whatever it is leaves you gasping.
Chan glances up at you, eyes sweeping across your face heatedly, and there’s something in his gaze that is your complete undoing, because suddenly, you can’t take it anymore.
Gone is the teasing. Gone is the brat. And left behind is you, open and bared, waiting for the head alpha to take you.
“Alpha.” You breathe out, and even that feels like a struggle past the sudden panting that has filled your throat.
“Mmhm.” Chan hums beneath his breath, still sounding more like a growl than anything, as he nips along the skin of your throat, before lathing his tongue over the smarting, red marks he has left behind.
Your body arches up into his of its own accord, and Chan pulls back slightly, a smirk now on his full lips, irises so golden that you can see the moon in them.
You whimper, because you can’t think of any words, and Chan leans over you once again, fingers going firmly around your chin, petrichor so strong washing over you that it makes you dizzy.
“What do you want, baby? Tell me.”
You part your lips, but you’re not sure if you can even begin to form words, lest a jumbled sentence, and Chan’s smirk grows at the realization, white teeth flashing dangerously, and when he speaks again, his voice is a low, guttural rumble in the back of his throat that does things to your body all over.
“Tell alpha what you want, baby, or else you’ll be left to my whims and my wolf is a little too out of control currently to be keen on gentleness.”
His words snap some sense into your brain, but only a little, and you manage to stutter out around the sudden spit that fills your mouth, “Go ahead. Rough is good.”
Your wolf keens in agreement.
Chan chuckles, leaning forward to nose at the column of your throat once more. The patches of skin are already darkening and they sting, but the feel of his tongue, hot and slick with saliva, tracing his handiwork, instantly has them blooming.
“And if I want to eat you alive?” He murmurs against your skin, fingers tracing down the length of your body, stopping as they tick across the warm flesh that stretches across your hip bones, as if waiting for your reply. “What then?”
You’re struggling to breathe now-the rain is heavy and each lungful goes right to your head, making you dizzy-but you manage to nod, before saying somewhat stupidly, “Whatever you want, alpha.”
Chan chuckles beneath his breath, the sound going right to your core, and then his fingers are dipping below the waistband of your pants and suddenly, coherent thoughts are no longer in your plane of existence.
“Good girl.” Chan praises and you’re not sure if he’s talking about your reply or your body’s response to him, but either way, it doesn’t matter.
Praise from head alpha is always good, your wolf preens almost incoherently.
Shut up, you supply back, thoughts cut off by a groan as you completely lose yourself in Chan.
Chan, Chan, Chan.
Alpha, alpha, alpha.
The room smells so heavily of storm and blooming wisteria by the time Chan rolls off of you and collapses beside you with a slight groan that you’re fairly certain your neighbors will be asking if you’ve gotten a new air freshener.
That’s gonna be an awkward conversation to have.
You fumble into a position on your side and throw your arm over Chan’s still heaving chest, his skin fiery beneath your fingers as you start to trace nonsensical patterns along his ribs, your nose buried in the juncture of his throat.
He smells nice-like sweat, and shower gel, and damp earth, and Chan.
You feel him start to card his fingers through your hair and you tip your head back to look at him, meeting his now completely cooled, caramel gaze with your own, his lips quirking upward into the hint of a self-deprecating smile.
“Sorry about all the-” He gestures to everything sheepishly-his room, you, himself-and you tilt your head, watching him curiously, fond amusement clear on your features.
“What?” You ask like you don’t know, crinkling your nose at him just to keep up the innocent act for a bit longer.
Chan laughs, a sharp sound that squeezes past his breathlessness, and rolls his eyes at you affectionately, before reaching up to pinch your side with long fingers.
You yelp and try to pull away from him, but he keeps you glued securely against his side, even though you’re beginning to sweat being this close to his overheated skin and shooting him a glare that could rival Minho’s.
“Yeah.” He nods, as if he knows you get it, and you do.
You lie in silence for a moment, basking in the warm afterglow of being with each other, and then without looking up at him, you say casually, “You know, Jisung’s gonna complain for a week about losing.”
Chan raises his head slightly to cast you a curious look, one eyebrow quirked. “Losing what?”
You focus on the way your fingertips trace across his skin, hiding your sudden grin behind a bite of your teeth.
“The game.”
This time, when Chan speaks, he sounds tiredly resigned and he’s no longer posturing his words as a question.
“What game.”
You shrug slightly and tilt your head back once more to look at him, batting your eyelashes and pursing your lips in an over dramatic display of innocence.
Chan rolls his eyes.
He isn’t buying it.
“Fine.” You huff out, reaching out to pinch one of his nipples in retaliation, but Chan is faster than you, not to mention stronger, and he pins your hand once more against his ribs. You whine and struggle to free yourself from his grip. “Jisungie started it, okay? He wanted to see how far we could push you before you snapped.”
Chan looks slightly amused now, albeit exhausted and long suffering, and he reaches up to run a hand over his face.
“Before I snapped?”
“Yeah.” You shrug again, and he finally releases your fingers from his own. You make a big show of stretching out your hand with little groans of pain so that maybe he’ll feel bad. He doesn’t. “During rut, you get kinda-”
You struggle over your words, pondering if your life is worth telling a head alpha in active rut that he gets a little handsy and possessive.
Finally, you decide it’s better to just get it over with.
If you die, you die.
“-possessive.” You finish lamely, glancing up at him once more.
Chan has a thoughtful look on his features, and you hold your breath, waiting for his response.
He catches you completely off guard when he starts to laugh, body shaking beneath your own with the force of his sudden mirth.
“What?” You sit up abruptly, scowling at him, as you reach out to smack his bare chest, but once again, he’s too fast for you, capturing your hand before you can even make contact. You scowl some more. “What’s so funny?”
Chan catches his breath, wiping at his eyes, and offers you a wave of his free hand.
“It’s nothing. I’m just-” He gasps again, eyes still watering slightly. “-I can’t wait to rub it in that Jisung not only lost, but that he lost to Minhoof all people.”
You stare at him as he starts to laugh maniacally again, and consider calling someone for help, because obviously, rut has finally driven Chan out of his right mind.
His giggles die down after another few minutes and when he meets your gaze again, the gold is already creeping back into his irises, the pupils darkening and blowing, the alpha once again moving in to overtake the human.
Your wolf whines plaintively, invitingly, as if your body isn’t already tired and ready for a nap.
Chan’s alpha had put you through your paces, and you were just getting started.
Chan tilts his head, and you see the perfect image of a wolf in the action, and his mouth pulls up into the start of a wicked smirk, tongue darting out to trace the outline of his lips in a motion that has you suddenly clenched up with want.
Okay, so maybe it’s not all bad. You could probably go again.
Chan loops his fingers around your wrist and tugs you down to him, nosing across the base of your throat, teeth skimming over the lines of your collarbone, making you shiver.
“Anyway. There’s time for all of that later.” His irises gleam golden, minted coins in the tan skin of his face, and he looks more than satisfied with himself when you gasp at his teeth grazing your throat.
A wolf’s scent is their main identifying characteristic. It’s used to form bonds with packmates, is useful in determining friend from foe, and above all else, identifies you as you. Being sick can mess with your natural scent, and when you start to feel unwell, not only do you no longer feellike yourself, but now, to add insult to injury, you don’t even smelllike yourself. Not to worry, because a little flu bug is nothing in the face of your caring packmates.
Or the SKZ!pack sickfic we didn’t know we needed.
Tags: SKZ, SKZ Drabble, OT8, OT8 x you, OT8 x reader, SKZ!pack, SKZ!abo, ABO, Alpha beta omega dynamics, SKZ x you, SKZ x reader, Poly!SKZ, Bang Chan, Seo Changbin, Lee Minho, Han Jisung, Hwang Hyunjin, Lee Felix, Yang Jeongin, Kim Seungmin
Genre: Fluff, Comfort
Warning: Mentions of vomiting and general sickness
Title: Smell Like You
“Are you okay, noona?” Hyunjin slides into the chair next to you at the kitchen table where you’re currently slumped, head resting on the cool wood.
You crack open an eye and glance at the omega, concern written all over his sharp features.
You shrug half heartedly and manage to straighten up, glancing down at the books spread over the table, your required reading nowhere closer to being done than when you started.
“I think so? Just tired I guess.”
You note the way Hyunjin’s nose wrinkles, as if he’s smelling something slightly distasteful, and the concern in his eyes only grows as he stares at you.
“Are you sure? You smell kinda-”
“What?”
Hyunjin shrugs, and you feel the way a headache is starting to form, slowly throbbing, behind your temples, probably because you’ve been studying all day and haven’t tried to drink anything close to enough water.
Minho would nag if he knew.
“-off.” Hyunjin supplies lamely, as if he doesn’t know how else to describe it.
You sigh, the light from the kitchen suddenly a little bit too bright. “I’m fine. It’s just been a long day.”
Hyunjin won’t stop staring at you, and the worry in his eyes is feeding into the way he chews on his bottom lip.
You reach out and cover his fingers with your own, and the cool feel of his skin is relieving.
God, you feel hot.
Hyunjin’s eyes widen slightly at the touch. “Noona, you’re really hot.”
You offer him the hint of a teasing smirk, all that you can muster, and pat the back of his hand, tired voice gaining a playful lilt.
“Ah thanks, Jinnie. That’s so sweet of you to say.”
Hyunjin rolls his eyes at your joke, and then his expression sobers again, lips pulling into a thin line. “Are you sure you’re okay? You’re not getting your rut are you?”
“No.” Your voice comes out sharper than you intended, the honey glaze scent of lemon bitters slightly in response to your tone. You sigh and soften your voice, squeezing the omega’s fingers affectionately within your own. “No, I promise, baby. I’ve been tracking carefully since last time and I’m not even close.”
Your body is achy and suddenly, exhaustion is washing over you like a wave. Everything protests as you push back from the table and force yourself to stand.
‘I’m okay, Jinnie. Nothing a good night’s sleep can’t fix.” You offer him the slight shadow of a smile. “Goodnight, baby.”
He waves you off, the concern still evident on his features, but the sweet smell of glazed lemon now back in the air.
“Good night, noona. Sleep well.” ***
A good night’s sleep doesn’t fix it.
In fact, if anything, it only makes everything worse.
When you manage to crack open your eyes against the harsh morning light, the first thing you notice is that your head is pounding and you feel like you’ve been hit by a truck.
The second thing is that the burning sensation of bile is rising rapidly in the back of your throat and a wave of nausea is rolling over you so violently that it sends the room spinning.
You stumble out of bed, covers tangling around your legs, and make a dash for the bathroom, where you promptly vomit into the toilet.
You slump down on the cold tile of the bathroom floor and try to force yourself to breathe, but the nausea hasn’t let up, and your headache is worse than before, your mouth filled with cotton, throat dry and burning.
You don’t make it five minutes without curling back over the toilet and dry heaving violently.
By the time the nausea has subsided enough for you to push yourself to your feet and drag yourself back to bed, you’re out of breath and your whole body is on fire, trembling violently.
You collapse back onto the mattress and groan as your body aches in protest.
Cracking open an eye, arm thrown over your face to prevent some of the light from aggravating your headache, you manage to roll over enough to grab your phone from the dresser and pull up the pack’s group chat.
The bright light from the screen makes it hard to type out your message, but you squint through the pain and send out a quick text.
Me: I’m so freaking sick. I’ve been puking my guts out. I’m going to quarantine in my room until it passes so I don’t give it to any of you.
You drop your hand back limply to the bed, phone still in your fingers, and close your eyes, breathing in slowly through your nose and out through your mouth, trying to force yourself to ignore the roiling feeling in the pit of your stomach.
Your phone dings, the sound loud and your head pounding reflexively, and you manage to open your eyes enough to see the responding text.
It’s from Jisung.
It’s always from Jisung.
JiJi: O no!!! That sux! I’m so sorry noona!!! What can we do???
You manage the hint of a smile at his concern, and think about responding, but the effort sounds like too much, and a new wave of nausea is building in your throat, so, phone still clasped in your fist, you hightail it to the bathroom once more.
This time, when you vomit into the toilet, it’s mostly water.
Slumping back against the bathroom vanity, you swallow hard a few times, trying to wash away the taste of last night’s dinner and your phone vibrates once more against the bathroom tile, forgotten in your urgent plight for the toilet.
You force yourself to open your eyes and in weak, trembling fingers, open up the text chat.
It’s Chan.
Channie: You’re not going to be alone while you’re sick. That’s why we’re a pack. Minho is going to make you some broth and toast and Changbin is gonna run to the store for some Gatorade. I’ll bring you water and painkillers in just a sec.
Thank god for the head alpha, you think, as you unceremoniously drop the phone-feeling all too heavy-from your hold once more on to the bathroom floor.
You momentarily ponder the idea of getting back to your bed, but with the way your legs are trembling just from sitting and the way the idea has the room spinning even just at the thought, you decide against it, instead, lying down on the cool tile of the bathroom floor, cheek pillowed on your arm.
You sigh at the instant relief the cold tile gives against your flushed, hot skin, and close your eyes simply because they feel too heavy to keep open.
You don’t know how much time passes-could be seconds, could be hours-while you lie on the bathroom floor, but the next time you open your eyes, Chan is crouching down in front of you, dark concern written clearly across his pretty features.
Your body instantly relaxes in relief as you catch sight of the other alpha, the small room already filling with the smell of incoming thunderclouds, your headache easing-just slightly-at the familiar scent.
“Channie.” You whimper out, and your wolf all but practically whines at the sight of him.
“Hey, baby.” The head alpha replies with a gentle, comforting hint of a smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes, before eyeing your current position on the bathroom floor, lips pulled into a thin, concerned line. “Can you sit up for me?”
You instantly shake your head, your headache flaring anew at the motion.
“I don’t think I can.” You whisper out, your voice pathetically tiny, the room already spinning with just the slightest motions of your head. “Channie, I can’t-”
Chan sets aside the water bottle and container of painkillers you hadn’t noticed he was carrying and reaches out carefully, his cold palm covering the fiery skin of your forehead.
“Shit, baby, you’re burning up.” He remarks, voice low, worry flashing anew in the dark caramel of his irises. “We need to get you up and get some painkillers in you. We’ve gotta bring your fever down.”
Every inch of your body protests at the notion, the nausea slowly creeping back in at the thought of moving.
Chan must notice the distress in your scent, because he leans over, fingers looping carefully around the hot skin of your wrists. “C’mon baby. Just try, okay? I’ll help you.”
You reluctantly allow him to help tug you up into a semi sitting position, back against the bathroom vanity, and even the small movement has you panting for breath, limbs trembling violently.
And just as you expected, the nausea comes back in a new violent wave, full force, and you’re once again leaning over to vomit into the toilet.
Chan slides to sit behind you and rubs your back comfortingly as you dry heave again and again.
Once the nausea has subsided, you sit back, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand, and let your head fall back weakly against the other alpha’s shoulder, eyes closing of their own will.
Chan loops his long arms loosely around your waist, legs stretched out on either side of your body for support, and leans around you to retrieve the forgotten water bottle and pain killers.
“C’mon baby. You need to get these meds in your system.”
The thought of drinking water and trying to swallow pills with the way your stomach is currently heaving has you shaking your head, even as Chan carefully presses three of the small white pills into the palm of your hand.
“I can’t, Channie.” You whine beneath your breath, cracking open an eye to glance up at him, the cold water bottle pressing against your skin. “I’ll just throw them back up.”
Chan’s brow creases, his eyes darkening with concern, and then something akin to fierce determination takes its spot as he raises your hand for you, helping you fit the pills between the slot of your lips.
“Baby, you’ve gotta try.”
You reluctantly do as he says, letting him place the painkillers on your tongue, and raise the water bottle to your lips. It takes effort, but you manage to swallow them and keep them down, along with a small sip of water.
Chan sets aside the water bottle once more and raises a hand to card his fingers through your sweaty, matted hair.
“Good girl.”
Your mouth and throat feel dry and burned, even though you’d just taken a sip of water, and your body suddenly feels too heavy to control, eyes already closing with exhaustion.
You thank god for the other alpha, because you don’t know if you’d be able to keep yourself up at this point.
Chan noses against the skin of your bared throat, his own wonderfully cool in the face of your raging fever, and his arms tighten affectionately around your waist as he lets out a soft chuckle at your long sigh.
“You can’t sleep here you know.” You manage to crack open an eye and look up at him, the amused smile currently tugging at the corner of his lips.
“I could, if you would be quiet.” You groan out, body already sinking into Chan’s hold and the cool bathroom tile.
Chan chuckles, the sound rumbling through his chest, and traces his nose over your scent gland.
The renewed smell of petrichor does more for your aching body than the painkillers ever will.
“Hyunjin said I stink.” You pout sleepily because you can’t help yourself. You’re tired and achy and being safe in Chan’s hold is making you lose your inhibitions, not to mention, you feel as if you’re floating, halfway delirious with the way the heat has overtaken your body.
Chan laughs again and presses a gentle kiss to the flushed skin just below your jawline.
“You don’t stink, baby. Being sick just messes with your usual scent a little, that’s all.”
You whine, but don’t open your eyes. Sleep is already threatening.
“But I don’t wanna smell different. I wanna smell good. Want you to like the way I smell, Channie.”
Chan chuckles, low beneath his breath, and ignores your whine of protest as he removes his arms from around your waist, already tugging you upward with him.
“I know. C’mon, baby. Let’s get you back to bed.” *****
You don’t know how long you sleep.
It’s all frankly just a heat induced haze, broken up by frequent dashes to the bathroom when the nausea becomes too much.
Chan’s pills help, they do, but not enough to make you stop wishing for death.
When you finally do manage to reenter the world of the living, you crack open your eyes and groan.
You feel like you’ve been hit by a bus.
You fling an arm over your face, noting through your still sleepy haze that your skin feels cooler to the touch, and manage to roll over, gaze settling on the nightstand.
It’s full of half empty bowls of food that you vaguely remember Jisung trying to get you to eat, and barely used mugs filled with liquids that Felix had brought, and you don’t remember who, but at some point, someone had tucked you back in after you’d kicked off your blankets in your heat induced rage.
You reach out a hand for your phone, but think better of it when even that motion has the room spinning, letting your arm drop back weakly to the mattress.
You roll over and stare blankly at the ceiling, every muscle screaming.
God, you hate being sick. Not to mention you miss your packmates. Wolves don’t do great with being alone.
Your wallowing in your misery and post sick induced disgust is interrupted by the sound of the door opening, and as the wave of amber hits your nose and Minho appears at the edge of the bed, your wolf has you reaching out for him with grabby hands, already whining for his contact.
Minho arches a delicate brow at you and stays put.
“You’re gross.” He points out needlessly, and you groan, shutting your eyes and once again throwing your forearm over your face.
“Thanks.” You reply weakly, voice raspy and hoarse from disuse.
Minho’s fingers loop around your wrists and tug, and you grumble at the insistent contact.
“C’mon, sweetheart. We’re getting you in the shower. And then the omegas are gonna come change your sheets.”
You squint at him as panic feels your gut at his words.
The thought of leaving the bed has the lingering nausea flaring again and the room tilts dangerously as you shuffle to a semi sitting position.
You’re already breathing a little too hard.
“I don’t know if I can.” You admit softly, not meeting his gaze, your body weaker than it’s felt in days. “I really don’t think I can, Min-”
You yelp slightly as Minho’s arms swoop underneath you and pick you up from the bed in one smooth, easy movement. He offers you the hint of a smirk as your arms go around his neck in a flurry of panic.
“I’ll help.”
He carries you to the bathroom, arms still looped around his neck, and this close, your face buried in his chest, the smell of amber and bergamot is overwhelming, soothing your aching muscles and instantly making you feel better.
Minho sets you down gently on the closed lid of the toilet and you watch with half interest as he leans into the shower and turns it on, testing the water with splayed fingers. When he’s satisfied, he turns back to you, arching a brow.
The thought of having to tug your shirt over your head is sending a headache pounding once more into your temples.
Minho sighs, rolling his eyes, but his mouth is soft, giving him away, as he crosses back to you and gently tugs your shirt up and over your head, crouching down in front of you to do the same with your pants and socks.
When you’re undressed, he pulls his own t-shirt up and off, and noticing you staring with slight confusion, offers you the hint of an exasperated look.
“You can’t even undress yourself, sweetheart. How’re you gonna wash yourself without help?”
You hate it, but he’s right, and so you reluctantly let Minho help you stand and step into the warm stream of the running shower.
He pulls the shower door shut behind him and steps up to you, arms looping around your waist, letting you sag back against his chest, holding up the majority of your weakened, dead weight.
You close your eyes and tilt your head back, reveling in the way the warm water soothes your tired muscles, washes away the stink of being sick, the smell of vomit clinging to your skin.
It’s invigorating. Makes you feel new again.
Minho rests his chin on your shoulder, and when you open your eyes and glance at him, he’s watching you, a slightly amused smile pulling on the full skin of his upper lip.
“Feel better?”
You nod eagerly, careful not to shake your head too quickly and make yourself dizzy as you breathe out, “Yes. Thank you.”
Minho huffs something between a laugh and a grunt and reaches around you for the shampoo.
“Can you manage to hold yourself up while I shampoo your hair or is that too much to ask, sweetheart?” He holds up the bottle for you to see, a slightly patronizing, teasing smirk on his lips.
You nod and reach out for a hold on the shower walls to steady yourself as Minho slips his hands from your waist and squirts a generous dollop of shampoo into the middle of his palm.
The shower fills with the scent of lavender.
Minho’s fingers find purchase in your hair and he carefully starts to massage the shampoo into your scalp as it foams, and you can’t help it, you close your eyes and relax back into him once more, letting out a sigh.
It feels so good-to be clean, to have Minho touching you, to not feel like you want to puke your guts up at any given moment.
Minho is meticulous, swirling the shampoo over every inch of your head, fingers firmly tangling into your wet hair, and you swear, you almost fall asleep as he continues his gentle ministrations, only stirring when he finally drops his hands and pushes you back into the stream of water with a gentle bump of his hip.
“Rinse.”
You do as you’re told, and Minho gets out first, holding up a dry, fluffy towel for you as you step out of the warmth of the shower.
The bathroom air is cold, the tile freezing beneath your feet, and you shiver as he wraps you up, wet hair dripping onto damp skin.
Minho notices and pushes you toward the door, making sure you can make it back into the room on stumbling feet before he’s satisfied and releases his hold on you.
When you glance back at him, he’s sporting an affectionate half smile, eyes warm as he towels off his own dripping hair.
“Go on. Get back in bed. Hyunjin’s gonna be thrilled you smell like you again.”
****
“You smell like you again!”
Hyunjin is indeed thrilled that your scent is back to normal and you giggle as the omega buries his face in your neck, rubbing his nose up and down the freshly washed skin there.
You’re both tucked under the safety of your clean comforter, and you’re cozy and warm and it’s a nice change to the heat that has licked your skin for the past few days.
Now you just feel content, wrapped in Hyunjin’s arms and an overly large hoodie that belongs to Changbin, cuddled beneath the clean sheets of your bed.
“I’m glad.” You breathe softly, pressing a kiss to the omega’s head, your body starting to feel heavy with exhaustion.
Your eyes close on their own, and you can feel yourself sinking into sleep-good, restful sleep-unlike what you’ve gotten the last few days.
“Noona?”
You hum in response to Hyunjin’s sudden query but don’t open your eyes as he shifts closer to you, leg thrown over yours, head on your chest, nose still buried in the skin of your throat.
“Are you feeling better?”
You sigh and reach up blindly to bury your fingers in the soft strands of his hair.
The room smells like lemon and just the hint of freshly bloomed wisteria.
So I saw a small clip of Tale of the Nine Tailed, uk the ones that come on Netflix when you have the thing highlighted? Yeah so Lee Yeon says to the little kid that foxes have only one true love for their entire life. That made me think of how Jeongin relates himself to a fox, so maybe he’ll also have only a single person he will fully devote himself to uk?
Idk, just thought this was something sweet. Cause we see how he treats other hyungs v/s felix, he’s wayyyy sweeter to Lix. So imagine how much he will love his s/o if they are the only one ever. Just, yeah. Made me soft thinking about his love.
so as we know, recently hyunjoon, woojin, and hoseok (mx) have left their groups (all of whom i write for). i’m kind of iffy about doing this, but to respect the decisions of having left their groups, i will not write for these three beginning next comebacks. for example, i will continue to write for woojin until dec. 7, and the others whenever their former groups release a new album.
this will apply to all future idols who leave their groups. please respect my decision to do this. i’m sorry and thank you.
you excitedly dragged changbin, your boyfriend of nine months with a blindfold to his birthday surprise. he tried to act mad that he had to wear a blindfold but his smile said otherwise and you told him it’d be just a few more minutes. “happy birthday binnie, you can take off your blindfold” you reach to hold one of his hands. changbin was soon surprised to see a picnic set up just for two with a cake wishing him happy birthday. “i remember you said you always wanted to watch the sunset on your birthday, so i thought this would be a good way to do it” you blushed, shifting from foot to foot. changbin could barely contain his emotions, stepping forward to hug you tightly and to set his head in your neck to leave little kisses. “this was the best birthday gift ever princess, thank you so much” he whispered as he hugged you tighter”
jisung always thought you were beautiful, to him you were his sunshine, his world, his cutie pie. he absolutely adored you, but when he saw you walk out of your room in the prettiest blue dress that just made you glow with a huge smile. he knew in that moment that he wanted to be with you forever.
this gif i aM cRYING (how am i being wrecked by my own bias-)
anywAys
jisung
now he is something special
he is definitely one of the more affectionate and “clingy” out of the boys and it doesn’t change when he is with you
he is bold in public and private and isn’t shy to hold your waist in public
he loves it when your affectionate with him as well
his little smile when you squish his cheeks just brightens up your day
loves to squish yours too
might even sneak a quick kiss
i think he would like any cuddling position because being close to you makes him happy
but i think his favorite would be you two facing each other with your legs entangled together and just being able to look at each other and talk - and kisses
you both are each other’s hype squad
will do anything to get each other to smile
“babe you look hot”
“sung i’m wearing sweats”
“exactly, might want to take them off” ;)
(ajsjsjsj i’m sorry i had to do it-)
as much as he is a flirt
he is so cheesy :(
always says how lucky he is to have you
and that you are so pretty
a literal sweetheart
very thoughtful with dates, would plan a day of your favorite things to do and love
would surprise you and bring your favorite flowers
you’re hungry? he has your favorite snack in his bag
cold? your favorite sweatshirt is already in your hands
he’d honestly do anything for you
you’re his sunshine
he absolutely adores you
and you adore him even more
jisung is just so attentive and caring towards you
would give you the world if you asked
and he deserves the whole world
thank you to @mndmdchn for requesting! & sorry for how long it took me, i have been super busy with my job and haven’t had to much time to write, i hope you enjoy
floating through space (and a pile of junk) — lee felix.
: STRAY KIDS; husband!felix x fem!reader
: fluff.
: 1.3 k
: nothing except bad writing and bad title, no proofreading, also there’s one mention of the reader being shorter than Felix ♡
“You’re supposed to be cleaning!”
“In my defense, who cleans during the night?”
You huff, trying to snatch the polaroid camera Felix found in one of the cupboards away from him. “And in my defense, you’re busy all day. You know how much I hate cleaning the cupboards.”
Felix laughs, setting the camera aside he helps you get the remaining stuff out, then proceeds to grab a cloth to dust the shelves. Quite frankly, you feel like a terrible wife for making Felix work more after he’s already busy with tour preparations, but you’ve got no choice — you start sneezing up a storm at the slightest contact with dust, and you aren’t really gifted in the height department either. Neither is Felix, but he can, at least, reach the top shelves better than you could.
a/n. this has been sitting in my drafts for a while now… funny thing is that i partly wrote it while i was waiting in a queue lmao
summary. i.n is whipped for you!! and since you’re stray kids’ makeup stylist you have to hide your relationship with him… and he’s having too much fun with it
warnings. smartass like once?? i dunno if that counts as a swear word but yeah
“so, y/n…” i.n grinned with a mischievous spark in his eyes. he stretched his arms so you had to stop what you were doing “… how was your weekend?”
“my weekend?” you repeated, the desire to slap his arm tingling your hand.
because actually he spent the weekend with you.
“i hung out with my boyfriend” you smirked and tapped his wrist “can you put your hands down? i need to apply the highl–”
“BOYFRIEND? YOU HAVE A BOYFRIEND?!” han, who was sitting on the couch, yelled
“yeah” you hummed and looked at i.n who was smiling like a fool
“HOLD ON I NEED TO TELL THE REST!” han kept on yelling and in a blink of an eye he left the room, leaving you two alone.
IF YOU ARE UNDERAGE: DO NOT READ-NSFW UNDER THE CUT
With finals over and the letter stating you were finally getting the degree, you’ve worked so hard for, you needed to relax. Luckily, your boyfriend knew just how to do that.
With your roommate out for the night, ChangBin took that chance to surprise you at home with a bottle of wine and flowers. The two of you made quick work of the wine, but it wasn’t needed for what he had in mind.
“So beautiful,” he panted into your ear as you bounced on his lap. His hands held your hips tightly as you rode him. “Such a good girl. Does that feel good?” He sucked your neck as you leaned your head back.
“Binnie,” you moaned, “So good. So big.” Rocking your hips into his, you moaned louder. “So close. I’m so close.” Feeling the knot tighten in your stomach you kissed him deeply, sucking his bottom lip between your teeth.
ChangBin started to thrust up to meet your hips. Gripping your hips tighter, he guided you down to meet his thrusts. He looked up at you like you were his reason for living. The intensity of his gaze gave you chills. Suddenly, you felt a sharp and rough tug on your scalp. With a yelp, you were pulled off of ChangBin’s lap.
“What the fuck,” he yelled, meeting the eyes of 4 men. Men that weren’t his. He lunged for the man holding you by the hair. “Let her go,” he demanded with more contempt than you’ve ever heard, “Now.”
The man holding you up by the hair was tall and had an anti-brow piercing. Another man in the room stepped forward and threw something at ChangBin.
“Get dressed,” he ordered ChangBin. The man turned to look at you, his eyes roaming your body. “Let her cover up,” he said to his men. Another wrapped the sheet around your body to provide a little dignity.
ChangBin studied your face. There was no fear, only what seemed to be annoyance. Slowly putting his boxers on, he never took his eyes off of you. “Don’t hurt her,” he said to the one who looked like the leader. “I’ll cooperate. Just let her go. You don’t need her.” Pointing to you ChangBin tried to bargain with the man.
“She isn’t going anywhere,” he spat back. “And you will speak when spoken too.” ChangBin opened his mouth to object and was quickly hit in the face, causing blood to drip from his mouth.
“Stop it,” you yelled at the men. They all looked at you and then back to the man in charge.
“Take him out of here,” he commanded. After another quick punch, for good measure, ChangBin was pulled from the room by two men.
“Have you lost your fucking mind, Jay B,” you finally spat to the man holding your hair? He let go and allowed you to fall to the floor. You scrambled to stand and stand toe to toe to the leader. “What the fuck, Jackson! What are you doing here?” The man tilted his head and looked over your naked body again.
“What are you doing Y/N?” he asked with pleasure. “So that’s your new boyfriend? Seems nice.” You pushed him away aggressively and sneered at him. Suddenly, it dawned on you.
“Where is he,” you growled? Jackson nodded to the front of your apartment. “Get out while I get dressed you asshole.” Jay B blocked the door and Jackson turned his back to you. “Sorry, princess.”
In the living room, ChangBin has tossed on the floor in front of a man he had never seen. He was tall, had a long thin neck, and had a sharp jawline.
“Don’t move,” one of the two men said to him, “Stay on the floor. Hands where we can see them.” He assumed a docile position on his knees, hands on his thighs. He looked to the man sitting before him, clearly the one in charge, not the one in the room. Oh no, in the room with you still. He could hear shouting, but couldn’t make it out.
“Let her go, please,” ChangBin asked the man before him. “I don’t know who you are, but she doesn’t know anything.” The man laughed.
“She’s in no danger from us,” he said lowly. “But she may know more than she’s letting on.” The sound of your heels on the floor drew everyone’s attention. Your cropped mustard pants and blazer paired well with your cream silk camisole. It was an odd choice of outfit considering the situation ChangBin thought.
“There she is,” the tall man stood and opened his arms, “Y/N, baby. I’ve missed you.” ChangBin’s heart sank at the words. He was too friendly and familiar for this to be about him. A crack sounded through the room as you slapped the man.
“Seriously, Mark,” you seethed, “What are you doing here?”
“Wait,” ChangBin spoke up,“ You know them?” You hung your head, not able to meet his eyes. Mark chuckled and lowered himself to ChangBin.
“Oh, she never told you?” he taunted, “So much for not knowing anything.” You were about to lunge for Mark again when your door opened. An older man in a three-piece suit and a woman in an elegant dress walked in and it felt like all the air was sucked out of the room.
“That isn’t any way to treat your guests is it, Monkey,” the man said. Your cheeks flushed red as you squeezed your eyes shut to stop the tears.
“No, sorry daddy,” you whispered. ChangBin’s eyes examined your face. The embarrassment painting your face tugged at his heart. He tried the best he could to piece this puzzle together.
“Jackson, Jay B, JinYoung, and YoungJae leave us. Sweetheart, Y/N, Mark, have a seat,” he motioned to the sofa. “You stay there,” he said dryly to ChangBin.
“Daddy, I,” you cleared your throat, “I didn’t know to expect you.” Lifting your eyes to your father, you saw him staring at your boyfriend that was left on his knees.
“Oh? If you had known, then what? You would have had the virtue to not get caught in bed with him?” he asked with scorn. Your mother leaned toward your father and whispered something. “Know your place woman,” he snapped back.
“Are you ok?” you asked ChangBin softly. He looked at you with questions filling his eyes and nodded. You mouthed a quick sorry to him. Mark laughed next to you and you had to fight the need to wrap your hands around that long neck.
“What were you thinking?” your mother asked. “I told you to stop seeing him.” Her voice was soft and caring, but the words hurt. ChangBin’s eyes snapped to her and then to you.
“The problem is that she’s always had her way,” Mark stated matter of factly. Your father glared at him now, causing him to shrink away.
“This is what I was telling you,” your father lectured you, “This could have gotten you hurt, or killed.” He clenched his fists at his side. You laughed dryly. “I don’t see what is so funny. What do you have to say, boy?” he asked ChangBin.
“Daddy, stop,” you interrupted. “He has nothing to do with this.”
“He has everything to do with this, Y/N,” your father corrected you.
“Honey, hear her out first,” your mother said. “You can at least let the boy have some dignity.” She motioned to the compliant man still in his underwear.
“Please daddy,” you begged. “He won’t be any trouble. Let him dress and sit with us.” Mark rolled his eyes at you and scoffed.
“He’s an animal, leave him like one,” he said. His statement earned another slap across the face.
“How dare you call him an animal? You and the goon squad show up and barge into my home. Watch your mouth, or I will cut your tongue out,” you threatened him. ChangBin grinned a little when he heard how feisty and protective you were.
“Fine. He can dress. But no weapons,” your father agreed. “Mark, you go with him. Don’t mess around.” Mark stood and dragged ChangBin towards your room again.
“Hurry up,” he told ChangBin, “The old man doesn’t like to wait.”
They returned shortly, ChangBin fully dressed in his suit. He adjusted his tie as he stood in front of your father.
“Hello, sir. I am Seo ChangBin. I’m Y/N’s boyfriend,” he said politely, then bowed deeply. He met your dad’s gaze and accepted the outstretched hand.
“I’m sorry you seem to be at a loss, son. My name is Clyde Dillinger, Y/N’s father,” your father introduced himself.
“Dillinger,” ChangBin repeated, “As in-”
“Yes that one,” Mark snapped.
“Your last name is Y/L/N,” ChangBin looked at you. “You said your dad was in finance.”
“I have my mother’s maiden name,” you said softly, “So no one knows to look for me. And technically, he is in finance.”
“You never told him?” questioned your dad, narrowing his eyes at you. Again you dropped your head.
“No sir,” you whispered. “He didn’t know.” Your mother reached for your hand, but you pulled it away. “I didn’t want this,” you gestured around the room, “to happen.”
“Sir, I want you to know that I’ve done everything I can to make sure she was safe,” ChangBin smiled at you, “I wouldn’t let anyone hurt her.”
“Then how did this happen? We literally caught you with your pants down,” Mark laughed.
“Excuse me,” Jackson said, walking into the room. “Sir? May I speak?” Your father held his hand up to Mark to silence him, allowing Jackson to speak. “We had BamBam watch them for weeks. He is very careful. He has one specific man he leaves with her at all times he isn’t around.” Your father eyed ChangBin closely. “If we didn’t know she had this apartment, we wouldn’t have found them.”
“Thank you, Jackson,” said your father. “Is this true Mark?” The younger man set his jaw and nodded his head, glaring at his friend. “Anything else?”
“Yes, sir,” Jackson said looking at ChangBin. “I believe the only reason he was cooperating is for her. He begged several times for her to be let go. If she was in true danger, I feel this would have ended differently.”
“Mark? Anything to add?” questioned your dad. Being met with silence and this new information, he dismissed Mark and Jackson. “Seems that I owe you an apology, son,” he said to ChangBin. “It’s important to know when you’ve been wrong, and I may have jumped to conclusions.”
“Thank you, sir,” ChangBin replied politely. “I understand how important she is to you. And I give you my word, she is important to me too.” Your father nodded and looked to your mother.
“Leave us you two,” he instructed, “ I need to speak with this young man.” Standing you guided your mother to the kitchen for a drink. A strong one if you had it. Over your shoulder, you caught the smile ChangBin gave you.
“He’s sweet,” your mother said once away from the men. “How did you meet him?” She sat at the table and crossed her hands.
“We were out,” you explained, not wanting to give too much detail. “A creep wouldn’t leave me alone, and Binnie… Uh, ChangBin stepped in. Saved the day.” Pouring two glasses of whisky, you slid one to your mother. “I wish you would have called,” you said quietly.
“You hung up on me last time we spoke, Y/N,” she scolded you. “What would I say?” You nodded and reached for her hand.
“I was just so mad that you wouldn’t give him a chance,” you confessed. “He may be what you hear about on the news, but he isn’t with me.” You sighed and bit your lip. “Momma, he really cares about me.”
“I know, baby,” she smiled, “I can see that.” She leaned in closer to you, “I don’t know any man willing to do that for just anyone. Has he said he lo-”
“No,” you said quickly. “But I think I do.” Tears sprung to your eyes.
Your father’s voice called you and your mother back. The two men stood, shaking hands.
“I’ll be on my way,” ChangBin said. “I’ll check in with you tonight. Ok, princess?” he said to you softly, kissing your cheek. “It was very nice meeting you,” he bowed to your mother. “Sir, I look forward to hearing from you.”
“Y/N, sit down. I have to admit I’m very disappointed that this happened. We always planned to-”
“Daddy, I’m sorry but I don’t want to leave,” you cut him off. “I like it here. I have friends. I have ChangBin,” you rambled on.
“She’s right,” your mom interjected. “She can make her own choices now. She’s old enough. He seems like a nice man.”
“I am not going to let my daughter be with a man like that,” he roared, pointing to the door.
“Like what? A man like what,” you challenged. “A man like you? You were ok with the idea of me marrying Mark. For christ’s sake, Mark Tuan!” you yelled. “What is so wrong with ChangBin that you won’t get over it?” Your mother placed a hand on your arm.
“Clyde, honey,” she said, “You know this is very familiar. My father hated you. And what did that accomplish?” Your dad folded his arms and glared at your mother. “Huh? Nothing. We still got married and we’re happy, despite him.” She walked to him and gently touched his arm. “Is that what you want for her?”
“Why not Mark?” your dad questioned you. “He comes from a good family and he likes you. He’ll take over from me one day.”
“Why not Mark?” you repeated. “Because it is Mark, daddy. He loves himself and anything he can get off with. He’s a petulant child when he doesn’t get his way. I don’t love him.” You didn’t know ChangBin entered the apartment again. In his rush, he forgot his wallet and cell phone.
“Don’t love him?” your dad laughed dryly. “You love this other man, Seo? What do you know about love?”
“What did you know when you married momma at 19? I may not know a lot, but I know how he makes me feel, and I like it,” you said firmly. “Daddy, I’ve never felt safer with anyone else. He knows everything that makes me, me. I know it’s too soon to think about forever, but I can’t see my life without him,” you said softly. “I love him, daddy. I’m not leaving.”
“Y/N,” you heard from behind you. You turned to see ChangBin, his eyes full of tears. “Do you? Really?” You smiled and nodded. Wrapping you in his arms he kissed your forehead. “I love you too,” he whispered.
“I’m sorry I never told you,” you said sheepishly. Tucking your head to his neck you placed small kisses under his ear. He hugged you tiger and giggled.
“It’s ok, princess. Just no more secrets ok? I can’t keep you safe if I don’t know everything,” ChangBin said softly.
“Leave them alone,” your mom instructed, stopping your dad from interrupting. “You weren’t going to win this battle anyway.” He smiled sadly and nodded. “He is a lot like you. That’s a good thing. She’ll be ok.”
“Well, she is your daughter,” your dad laughed. “I have no doubt she’ll be fine.”
“Of course I’ll make sure he’s taken care of mom,” Chan said into the phone. “I can’t believe you let him fly out here alone. You still don’t let me do it!” He teased his mother on the phone.
“He isn’t alone, Chris,” the woman scolded him. “Y/N is with him.”
“Y/N? Hannah’s Y/N,” he questioned? “I haven’t seen her in years. What is she doing coming here?” He smiled fondly when he thought about his little sister’s friend.
Talent is something the Bang children had an abundance of. Clearly, Chan was very talented, and his sister was no exception. When she began dancing, their parents made sure she was enrolled in classes at one of the best schools. That’s where Hannah met you. You were a few years her senior and head of the advanced classes. From day one, you took Hannah under your wing and treated her like the little sister you never had.
“You’re right,” she agreed, “She just finished sometime at university and wanted to travel before going back.” Chan could hear paper being shuffled on the other end of the line. “Ah, yes. Once she leaves you at the airport she is visiting Korea, Japan, and then I think China. Or was it China then Japan?”
Chan listened to the announcement on the speakers, checking to see if the flight his brother was on landed. He told his mother goodbye and made his way to the proper gate. He was dressed in grey sweatpants and a hoodie, hoping to not draw attention to himself. The last thing he wanted to do was cause a scene.
Watching people file out of the gate, he searched the faces for familiar ones. Or one. He wondered if he would recognize you, or if you would him. You were his little sister’s best friend, and it felt like you were part of his family with how often you stayed over. He hated that he didn’t see you when he visited home, but he knew he was mostly to blame.
You had stopped by the Bang house to say goodbye to Chan before he left again to continue training as an idol. You kissed him clumsily before he pulled away and told you that he didn’t feel that way about you. You were more like a little sister, and he couldn’t see you another way.
He spotted his brother and waved his hands over his head, trying to get his attention. Lucas looked his way and waved back. He turned and hooked his arm into the arm of a young woman and pulled her through the crowd. As they got closer, Chan smiled as he recognized you.
The years had been very good to you. You had developed into a confident and beautiful woman. He always regretted not reaching out to you through the years. Deep down he always wondered what would have happened if he stayed home instead of choosing the path he did. His heart skipped a beat when your eyes locked with his.
Chan pulled Lucas into a hug and patted his back, “I’ve missed you, brother.” Ruffling his hair, he pulled away and smiled at you. He held his arms out to you, offering a hug. Carefully, you eyed him.
“You look great,” Chan said to you, “I was surprised when my mum said you were coming with Lucas.”
“I wouldn’t let him travel alone,” you smiled politely, “Plus he makes a great travel buddy.” You stepped past Chan’s open arms and pointed to a sign. “Is it this was to luggage claim?”
“Nice try, man,” Lucas laughed and patted Chan’s chest. He turned to catch up with you, leaving Chan with a blank expression on his face. “You have to give him a break,” Lucas said to you as he reached your side. “That was years ago.”
“Oh my gosh,” you groaned, “Is this something the Bang family will ever forget? I don’t care anymore.” Chan had caught up with you by now, but he kept his distance. “I was a stupid kid, with a stupid crush on a stupid boy. Nothing else.” Chan scoffed behind you, causing you to turn on his quickly. “Something to say,” you snapped.
“Nah,” he held his hands up. You continued towards luggage claim when Chan spoke again. “I just think it’s funny,” he said, “For something so stupid, you seem to still be upset about it.” You rolled your eyes and sucked your teeth.
“What if I am,” you asked, eyeing his sideways? He raised his eyebrows and tilted his head. “What if I am upset still? I thought I was in love with you. You could have been more gentle.” You huffed and faced his again. “I can’t ever forget about it. Hannah thinks it’s funny that I have a crush on her famous idol brother. Your parents always make mention of you to me, like we’re friends. Shit, this kid calls me his sister-in-law, as if you’ve ever spoken to me since you left,” you scowled, pointing to Lucas.
“Look, I’m sorry,” Chan apologized, touching your arm. “I was a stupid boy, youq said so yourself. And besides, I didn’t know how to handle it. I should have been nicer to you, but you were my sister’s friend, and I-.” He stopped and grinned at you. “Did you say you have a crush on me… Not had? Present tense?” Your mouth fell open and your cheeks burned red. “You did!” He said triumphantly.
“No, no I didn’t,” you tripped over your words. Lucas bumped his shoulder into you.
“You did,” he whispered, “I heard you.” You hated them at this point. Lucas for being right and Chan for being so good-looking. Chan stepped closer and smiled down at you.
“Come on,” he urged, “Let me take you out. Just once before you leave.” You chewed your lip and thought about the offer. “Let older me take older you out to make up for younger me being stupid and mean to younger you.”
“What about me,” Lucas piped in? Chan looked at him and made a serious face, mouthing a simple ‘no’. “Wow,” he said under his breath, “Older you is still a jerk.”
“You know, older me has higher standards. You can’t just smile at me with those dimples and expect me to give in Christopher Bang,” you informed Chan. He smiled wider.
“As you should,” he said, “You’re a beautiful girl. You deserve the best.”
“The best,” you repeated. “Hm, guess I should be on my way then. Can’t let the best see me with you. Might frighten them off.” You smiled over your shoulder and winked.
“No, no,” he called chasing after you, “I meant me. I’m the best. Where are you going? ”
“Wow! How can you be so bad at this,” Lucas called after Chan?
“Has anyone talked to Y/N today?” Han asked looking up from his phone. A chorus of ‘nos’ sounded from his friends. “Yesterday then?” Again, no one spoke to you. He scrolled through social media and was disturbed by your lack of updates. “When was the last time they called anyone?” he asked the room.
“I’ll ring them up,” Bang Chan said, “they’re probably holed up and making kissy faces with their boyfriend.” He typed in your phone number, not needing a saved contact. Crinkling his nose he left you a voice message. Felix tapped his friend’s leg and showed him an updated photo. Your boyfriend, well ex-boyfriend, posted a photo with his new partner. “Oh, shit,” he said to himself.
“Maybe that’s why they aren’t answering,” Felix thought. Chan agreed and called you a second and third time.
“What do you want Chan?” you rasped into the phone the fourth time he called. You sniffled and wiped tears from your face. Something was wrong, and he knew it. You never called him Chan.
“I just wanted to check on you,” he said softly. “We were worried about you. Haven’t heard from you in a few days.” All the boys huddled around Chan and his phone as he increased the call volume, making it easier for them to hear.
“I’m great Chris,” you lied. “Why wouldn’t I be ok,” you gasped, “Because I got dumped like yesterday’s trash? Because he moved on after 2 days?” Your chest contracted every passing second and it was harder to breathe. “I’m so tired,” you sobbed into the phone, unable to control it anymore, “I’m so tired of breaking down and having to pick myself back up. I’m tired of being the second choice. I’m so, so tired Chris.”
The sound of you crying on the other end of the line broke everyone’s heart. No one knew what to say. Chan looked around at the somber faces surrounding him. “Where is Han?” he asked. Everyone swapped glances and shook their head.
You flung your phone to the other end of the room and pulled your blanket over your head. Curling into yourself, you groaned and tried to ignore the knock on your door. Sadly, the longer you ignored it, the louder it got. Suddenly, it stopped, but you heard keys in your door and footsteps in your house. A few minutes later, there was a light knock on your door.
“Y/N,” you heard a voice call, “Are you sleeping?” Even though every fiber of your being wanted to tell him to leave, you pulled the blanket from your face.
“I’m awake Ji-Sung,” you said. He sighed in relief and opened your door gently. You turned on your bedside light and rubbed your eyes. “I only told you where that key was in case of emergencies.”
“It was an emergency,” he tried to lighten the mood, “I brought you ice cream. ” Taking one look at you, his heart broke. “Hey,” he said softly, sitting at the end of your bed. “Wanna talk?” Tears stung your eyes and he could see your lip tremble. He stretched his arms out and you launched yourself into them. Cradling your head against his shoulder, he rocked you side to side.
“What’s wrong with me?” you cried into his shirt. “What is so wrong with me that I can’t be loved?” He pulled away and cupped your face, searching for some sign that you were joking.
“What are you talking about?” he whispered. “Why do you think you’re not loved? Do you not see how the guys look at you? You are their literal sunshine. Our day doesn’t start until you arrive.” He swept the tears on your cheek away with his thumbs. “Do you not see how I look at you?” His voice was so soft and nervous. You brought your eyes up to meet his.
“How,” you asked, “Like a clown? I’m so pathetic.”
“Why can’t you see yourself the way I see you,” he said, smoothing your hair behind your ear. “So what, you hit a rough patch. You are smart and successful. Beautiful and funny. You’re not pathetic.”
“Sounds like you’ve given this a lot of thought,” you laughed dryly.
“Only since you walked into our practice room, with Chan. Your laugh was so infectious,” he admitted. After three years of loving you from a distance, he decided this was the time to shoot his shot. “I was so jealous. I wanted you to laugh with me like that. All I could think was 'Wow, how do I get someone like that’?”
“You don’t want someone like me,” you told him. He pulled your face closer to his and touched his forehead to yours.
“Oh,” he sighed, “But I do. I do. I want the person that makes everyone laugh. I want the person that looks effortlessly beautiful. I want the person that kicks my ass in video games. I want the person that holds me while watching horror movies. I want that person. I want you.”
“Sungie,” you muttered, “You don’t want me. I’m broken, no good.”
“Let me pick you up. Let me help you put yourself back together,” he pleaded. “Let me love you.”
“I don’t even love myself,” you admitted. “How can you?”
“Because I see how marvelous you are, even if you don’t,” he told you. “I’m not going to give up on this. Give me a chance, Y/N. I’m not going anywhere.” He brushed his lips against yours and to his delight you didn’t pull away.
“Han Ji-Sung,” you chuckled, “You are a fool. This is probably the worst idea you ever had.” He smirked and kissed you again.
“But Princess,” ChangBin cried, “I haven’t seen you at all this week. I miss you.” It was easy to hear him sulk on the phone.
“Binnie,” you said sternly, “I have to study. You know if you show up we’ll end up in bed… not studying.” A giggle erupted in your throat as you heard his tiny tantrum.
“Fine. But after this exam you’re all mine,” he haggled with you.
“Sounds great, honey,” you answer absent-mindedly. “I’ll call you tonight before bed, yeah?” Making kissy sounds you quickly disconnected the call.
ChangBin stared at his phone slightly annoyed that he was dismissed so quickly but immensely impressed at your dedication to finishing school. Despite the emptiness from missing you, he continued his day as normal. It wasn’t until Chan told him to call it a day, it was already late into the night he realized you hadn’t called.
“Felix, bring the car around,” ChangBin requested. Listening to the man on the other end he nodded his head. “Yeah. We’ll make one stop before her apartment.”
Knowing your roommate was out of town this weekend, ChangBin let himself into your apartment. All the lights were on and he could hear the television from your room. He bit his lip annoyed again that he hadn’t heard from you; however, Stepping into the kitchen his heart broke.
You were sleeping on the island. Your laptop is open and the pen is still in your hand. He knew the way you hunched over the surface that you couldn’t be comfortable. Placing a few items on the counter, he closed your laptop and carefully stacked your book and notes.
He stroked your cheek and called your name softly. Being a light sleeper, that would typically wake you up but you didn’t budge. He wondered how many nights you spent like this.
Not being a cook by any stretch of the imagination, ChangBin made you a sandwich. Not much, but stacked high with meat, cheese, and vegetables. Once satisfied, be put a little more effort into waking you up.
“Y/N,” he said louder, massaging your back, “Wake up, baby.” You shifted and slapped him away. “Come on, wake up.” He bent down and laid his head on your arms. Blinking slowly, you smiled when you saw his face.
“Hi,” you greeted him. “What are you doing here?” Kissing his lips you stretched and looked around the kitchen. “Wheres, my stuff?” He nodded to the counter and slid you the sandwich.
“You hungry?” he asked, already knowing the answer. “I didn’t want to wake you, but it looked like you needed an intervention.” Smiling at him lovingly you leaned on your elbows and puckered your lips for a kiss. “No. Eat.” You pucker turned to a pout as you held the sandwich.
“Did you make this yourself?” you asked between bites. He nodded and busied himself making a drink for the two of you. “You’re too good to me Mr. Seo.” His shoulders visibly shook as he laughed.
“You’re so dramatic. It’s just a sandwich,” he teased you. Taking the now empty plate he rolled up his sleeves and washed the few dishes he used. “Go change for bed.” His order was simple but left no room for debate.
Slipping into his favorite black silk nightie, you sat on the bed waiting for him. A small gasp left his lips when he saw you.
“What do you think you’re doing?” he asked loosening his tie. You tried to look flirtatious, but he wasn’t having that tonight. He removed his shirt and pants, folding them and placing them on your wardrobe. “You need to sleep. Your test is in a few days.”
“Then come put me to sleep,” you quipped. Taking you in his arms, he chuckled and laid you on the bed. Running your fingers through his hair, you sighed against his neck.
“Tonight we sleep. Tomorrow we play,” he shushed you. “I’ve got big plans for you once your finished with university.” You moaned against him.
“Oh? Like what?” you asked drowsily. His arms tightened around you and his fingers stroked your back. He knew exactly how to put you to sleep. The beat of his heart pacified you to sleep while he babbled on absent-mindedly.
“I was thinking about flying us to Fiji. The beaches there are stunning,” he said. “We can get some color on this soft skin. Just me and you.” You hummed again, half sleeping. “Or maybe Paris. I think you would enjoy the Eiffel Tower, the Lourve, and the Notre Dame Cathedral. They would be marvelous places to see together.” He kissed your temple and rested his head on yours. “We can walk along the Seine River and visit the Place de la Concorde.”
He beamed at your sleeping face, knowing he was talking to himself now.
“We can visit Rome if you want to instead. The Pantheon and Colosseum are stunning. Of course, we’ll tour the Sistine Chapel.” He sighed deeply and closed his eyes. “We’ll travel the world. Anywhere you want, I don’t care. I just need you by my side.”
genre:fluff au: college au, frat? au warnings: alcohol, swearing word count: 0.8k pairing: f!reader x lee know other characters: nct jaehyun and jungwoo song:shoot! by itzy
When Minho lays eyes on you, he knows he has to have you.
The sweet smile you flash at everyone who says hello to you; the sudden boisterous laugh that echoes out of you when a frat boy shows up to the party in a giraffe onesie; the flickering gaze of interest when you spot him lounging in front of the tower of red Solo cups—he’s entranced in every way possible. You move like honey—slow, deliberate, and fluid—as you make your way to him. When you’re right in front of him, he can’t resist giving you a onceover, starting from the black velvet ribbon in your hair to the beat-up red Converse on your feet. The embroidered letters on the sleeve of your oversize windbreaker nearly escape him until you reach for the ginger ale. The spell you have put on him has been broken.
Nu Chi Tau, or NXT, is his fraternity’s unofficial rival due to some love triangle that happened years ago. Minho doesn’t give a shit about the history since a) it happened years ago, b) it was so incredibly petty that he almost gained respect for everyone that actually upheld the rivalry, and c) he’s not going to cut out Jungwoo out of life just because he’s in NXT.
However, the letters still make him pause when he sees them, especially since you’re bearing them. Are you dating an NXT? Or is that jacket from a family member?
“Nu Chi Tau?” he asks. You look at him questioningly, and Minho has to stop himself from staring at the little wrinkle between your brows.
“Let me guess,” you say, now giving him a onceover that simultaneously makes him feel self-conscious and confident, “you’re from Sigma Kappa Zeta.”
“Is that a problem?”
“Only if you make it one.” You hold out the bottle of ginger ale out to him like a peace offering. “You want any?”
His own cup is filled to the brim with cheap beer already, so he shakes his head and continues trying to uncover the mystery behind your windbreaker. “You’re not in Nu Chi Tau, are you?”
You smirk, lips dangerously curving into a teasing smile. “God, you’re cute. If you wanna hit on me, just do it. I promise, none of the boys are gonna take you out back and shoot you if you do.” At his disbelief, you add, “I’m the fraternity sweetheart. Do you guys not have one?”
ΣKZ, in fact, does have one, a scholarly girl who only works out so she can eat more of Felix’s pastries without any guilt. Yeji has sweetheart duties as well, like promoting their quarterly charity drives and organizing mixers, but Minho really only knows her as the older sister of the house, despite her being younger than him. Minho’s mentioned her in passing to Jungwoo so many times, so why didn’t Jungwoo say anything about you?
“What’s it gonna be then?” you tease as you shift your weight to one leg, popping out your hip. “Pour me some vodka, ask me for my number?”
“Or you can leave her alone,” comes another voice. Another frat boy, presumably an NXT member, with a backwards cap throws an arm protectively around you, to which you quickly shrug off. He throws his hands up in surrender but maintains a wary gaze on Minho. “You’re Jungwoo’s friend, right?”
Minho nods and wonders if Jaehyun is one of those who vehemently uphold tradition. If he knows he’s Jungwoo’s friend, he likely knows that Minho’s from ΣKZ.
“Jaehyun, chill,” you warn as you shove him away.
“Don’t break her heart!” he calls before heading off to where a group of people are playing beer pong.
“Ignore them,” you say as you give another reprimanding glare at Jaehyun and another one of his friends. “So what’s it gonna be?”
Everyone in the room is watching your every move and awaiting his.
Another slow smile creeps onto your face when you realize this. As you innocently stare back at him, Minho’s face feels oddly warm, and his heart flutters like a swarm of butterflies when he notices just how alluring your perfume is. Underneath the fluorescent lights, you shine so brightly that he wants to touch you to see if you’re even real. You bite your lip, he licks his.
“Tell me your name, and I’ll pour you some vodka,” he finally says.
You laugh and reach for the large gray bottle yourself. “No wonder why Jungwoo thought I would like you. God, you’re so cute, Minho, and you don’t even know it.”
The spell has been broken once more. “What?”
You shrug and sip on your mixed drink. “Jungwoo told me so much about you. Whose idea do you think it was for a Nu Chi and a Sigma Kappa party? I mean, the sororities are here too, but still.”
Jungwoo is unbelievable. You are unbelievable. Minho is dizzy at the implications and at you.
As such, Minho does the most reasonable thing anyone else would do in his situation: he asks you to hand over the vodka and if you would be down to get a midnight snack later. To no one’s surprise, you readily agree. To Minho’s surprise, you kiss him on the cheek, flash him a wicked smile, and start heading for the front door.
Summary: You want a scarf and your crush has one. So does Minho, but he is not at all jealous or thinking murderous thoughts at your romantic fantasy straight out of a drama.
Love Galore - K-Vanity Event, Prompt: “Quickly end your one-sided crush. I think I like you.” Strong Girl Bong-Soon
Pairing: Minho (SKZ) x Reader
Genre: Fluff
Rating: PG
Warnings: None
Word Count: 1,129
A/N: Wow, I’m alive! I blame life and Genshin Impact for my absence. I’m hoping to get back into writing, and thought this event may be a good kickstart. Thanks @yoongsgguktae for the read over and support! Hope yall enjoy!
A puff of air is visibly seen when you sigh longingly with a dreamy look on your face. Your companion glances at you from the corner of his eyes with a look anyone would take as disdain. To you though, if you were paying attention, you’d say he’d look like a sad dog dejected by his owner. You’ve said that statement to him many times now.
At first, Minho didn’t know how to take it. Annoyed and flustered at your oblivious implication, he now only rolls his eyes and pinches your cheek. Other than in the dramas you watch, any sort of flirting or innuendo could come and slap you in the face and you wouldn’t know it. Minho swears your brain is filled with half rocks and the other half cotton candy. Though, he guesses it’s part of your charm. Minho has no idea why or how he caught feelings for someone like you until he was in too deep.
Minho’s grip tightens on his warm cup of coffee that sits on the snow littered wooden railing. He ignores the part of his brain that imagines his hands are wringing Hyunjin. He’s a good guy, but is the unknown object of your affections. Why does he have to be surrounded by oblivious idiots?
“Don’t you think it would be romantic to have someone wrap their scarf around you?” You take a pause to drink your own coffee and Minho is quick to notice your scarfless neck. While bundled up, it’s still quite cold outside. His scarf feels noticeably heavier after your words and he hates to notice Hyunjin’s scarf trail behind him as he runs away from Jisung and Felix’s snowball assault.
With a satisfied gulp, you continue, “They’d be standing so close, carefully wrapping the scarf around you while staring into your eyes. Then Hy-” you cough, “their eyes would lower to your lips and it’d be so easy to just pull them closer with the scarf and lean in for a kiss.”
Another wistful sigh leaves you and Miho can’t help but roll his eyes. “You’ve been watching too many dramas again.”
“I have not!” Your hand swiftly slaps his arm as if that is sufficient defense against his claim. “Ok, maybe the longful staring is awfully drawn out, but come on. Even you, Mr. Grumpy Pants, have to think even that it's just a little romantic?”
Minho huffs and pulls thoughtfully on the end of his scarf. His heart jumps a little at imagining the sweet cliched scene with you. Your cheesy brain cells are rubbing off on him because he has half the mind to rip his scarf off here and now and wrap it around you like some love sick fool. That’s supposed to be you, not him. “As if.”
“Fine.” Determined, you slam down your coffee cup on the railing. “I’ll prove it to you.”
Minho’s eyes trail over you, making you shiver not just from the cold. “You don’t have a scarf, idiot.”
Your eyes narrow in annoyance and you cross your arms, but your smile turns smug. “Yeah, which is why I am going to ask Hyunjin for his.”
Your smile widens at Minho’s glare. Your mutual friend has made Minho grumpier than usual and you have no idea why, but it makes this a double win for you. You love Minho, but you also love getting on his nerves. Chan’s even mentioned once that the two of you bicker like an old married couple. Even though he’s never said it again after the combined glare Minho and you gave him, you can still see it clearly on his face when he looks at the two of you.
Minho shifts, copying your stance with his signature disapproving face. “He’s going to hand it to you like a normal person and ruin your dreams.”
“I- well…” Clearly, you didn’t think of that. Your smirk morphs into a pout as you glance over again at Hyunjin.
If there’s one thing Minho doesn’t like, it is your dejected, crest-fallen face. He sighs, knowing he’s partially to blame this time. There’s a tug at his heart which he does his best to ignore, but when he sees you look down at your cup of coffee with a pathetic frown, he curses internally. He’s definitely in way too deep with you.
You look up startled when you hear the sound of clothes rustling. “What are you doing?”
Having unwrapped the scarf from around his neck, Minho grumbles, “shut up,” as he lifts it over your head to lay behind your neck.
Your eyes are wide and your mouth is parted slightly from the shock of Minho helping you live out your fantasy. Your chest clenches at the look in his eyes, something unknown and intense, as he carefully wraps the scarf around you. The moment seems to slow everything down except the rapid beating of your heart. Minho’s actions seem to take forever, but somehow the scarf is wrapped around your neck with the ends hanging over your shoulders all too soon. Yet, he doesn’t pull away. Instead, he pulls the scarf and you along with it. Gloved hands grip your arms to catch you as you stumble forward, and you swear you can feel the heat of his touch through all of your layers.
Warm breath tickles your ear as Minho leans in to whisper, “Quickly end your one-sided crush. I think I like you.”
Then Minho pulls away far too quickly, making you stumble again. By the time you regain your balance he’s already moving down the porch. Wiping his hand along the rail as he walks away, Minho scoops up enough snow to form a ball and quickly packs it together. Taking aim, he chucks it out into the yard, squarely hitting Hyunjin on the top of the head. The young man twirls around, ready to throw hands, but when he realizes it is a glaring Minho, a frightened expression overtakes him and he flinches away.
You ignore the scene of your rowdy friends and are too busy breathing in the scarf around your neck. It doesn’t help your shock that you realize it smells nice, like Minho, and then you end up spiraling on the thought that apparently you think Minho smells nice. His warmth also lingers behind, keeping your heart warm at his gesture. Then his words slowly sink in and you think your heart may stop but it only skips a beat. For a man who doesn’t like your dramas, he seems like he just stepped right out of one. You watch him go down the steps to join your friends in a new light and wonder how in the world you feel so deep without even realizing it.
4 young men cowered in their spots on the couch, eyes looking everywhere but at all. Seungmin even had the gall to purse his lips, trying to control the smile threatening to spread across his face. Seconds of silence later-
“You sure you didn’t eat it yourself and forget?”
All heads turned to Jisung, eyes wide. Said boy crumbled under your incensed gaze ( and 3 others), coughing and looking away.
So, this is how they wanted to play it.
“Okay then,” you shrugged, walking back to the kitchen. “I’ll just take my lasagna home then.”
Inspired by Kingdom dance from the Tangled Movie ! Do listen to it while you read <3
This was all your fault.
Having no sense of time permanence and the need to get every detail perfect had driven you to shut yourself up in one of the many dance studios in the Arts building, huffing and puffing and cursing at yourself for being a lazy perfectionist.
It was almost 2 a.m, but here you were, fixing the light skirt around your leotard and leggings as you took the short break your knees were begging you for.
This project was one you had begged your department’s Dean for- the opportunity to choreograph and lead the annual showcase. You needed it to be perfect, exquisite, unforgettable.
So you would suck up the pain and sleeplessness, you would bug that gorgeous senior Yunho into giving you tutorials on how to choreograph for groups, you would spend all your time thinking and visualizing and planning and dancing and perfecting until it was just right-
“Oh. Hey.”
Your train of thought sputtered to a stop when you heard the sound, turning to see Hyunjin standing at the door, dark hair and dark clothes.
“What are you doing here?”
The question ( albeit slightly rude) escaped your mouth before you could control it.
“I didn’t know where else to go.”
That’s when you noticed the dark bags under your best friend’s eyes, his jet-black hair limp and falling gracelessly around his face. His shoulders were slumped under his hoodie, his normally graceful frame suddenly looking small, almost like he was folding into himself.
It was a bad night.
The kind of night Hyunjin liked to slip into an empty studio and dance his anxiety away, letting the precision of his movements carry his pains away.
The sight nearly made you tear up.
How had you not noticed how tired Hyunjin had been looking lately?
Were you seriously that focused on one of your own projects that you forgot about the people that mattered the most to you?
Nothing was more important to you than Hyunjin- your childhood best friend, your soulmate, your partner from the beginning till forever. He was the reason you even found your love for dance- and here you were, disregarding him for god knows how long, all because you were trash at managing your time.
What kind of a best friend were you?
Suddenly, the annual showcase didn’t matter. All you wanted was to see your best friend’s lovely smile stretch over his lips,see his eyes scrunch in that endearing way they always did, see his dramatic reenactments and faux cringe away from him.
The studio had settled into silence as Hyunjin slid to the floor next to a corner of the walls and mirror, presumably setting up his own playlist or stretching.
Your feet moved to the bluetooth stereo system before your mind could catch up. Whether you realized it or not, you knew exactly what to do. The opening strains of the music instantly warmed your body- you didn’t realize you felt cold and empty until the melody filled the void in you with warm, buttery sunlight.
Your limbs sang with the need to jump into an easy dance as you made your way to Hyunjin, who was yet to notice you or the music building around the studio.
“Dance with me!” You grinned, reaching a hand out to Hyunjin where he sat on the wood floor, fixing his shoelace.You had missed this piece, you realized, letting yourself listen to the familiar music. You and Hyunjin had spent late studio nights like this twirling each other around the hardwood floor until you were out of breath but irrevocably exhilarated. Hyunjin looked down at your outstretched hand, then at you, his head cocked as he listened to the music, feeling the energy, the familiarity-
And you had grabbed his hand and hauled him to his feet, sweeping him into a messy hop-twirl-waltz around the studio. An incredulous laugh escaped Hyunjin as he caught his footing, barely able to keep up with you- but the only sound that escaped you was one of pure joy.
The music swelled and wrapped around the both of you as Hyunjin twined an arm around your waist to stabilize the both of you, a grin finally breaking out across his face. The music was like joy trapped in a sound, the building, soaring rhythm and beats needing no effort to follow- it was like the tune urged the both of you to move to the music, pushing you to truly feel the glorious thrill in the notes.
“TWIRL!” You yelled, but Hyunjin only laughed at you before releasing his grip on your waist to let you twirl out and away from him. A gleeful laugh escaped you as your skirt flew up around your body, the sheer ease and flow of every movement suddenly feeling so normal, so familiar to you.
Not seconds later, you were twirled back to Hyunjin , but this time he was the one leading the messy waltz as the music reached its peak, the air light and bright with your joint laughter and the delightful harmony.
And for those glorious seconds, all was good with the world- it was just you and Hyunjin in each other’s arms, dancing the night away and everything felt like it was perfectly as it should be.
As the music began, so it must end- and it did, with the both of you collapsing onto each other in a fit of giddy laughter, clinging to each other as you slid to the floor.
As the giggles trailed off, you swatted at Hyunjin’s chest.
“I’m sorry I spent the last few days disregarding you.”
Hyunjin’s smile was like the sunrise after a dreary night, much like the music that the both of you had come to love.
“Hey, we have forever together, what’s a few days?”
Requests are open for this collection (For Stray Kids and Ateez), so do check out the Masterlist for the prompts and rules! Love, Elliana.
+ pairing: bang chan x female reader + genre: fluff, friends to lovers, non-idol!au + warnings: mentions of food and energy drinks, let me know if i am missing something + word count: 0.9k + requested as part of my Drabble Event #2 + summary: A late-night rendezvous to the grocery store with Chan takes an unexpected turn after your blunt question and his honest confession. + lia’s note: Hello, I hope you’re doing well! I hope you enjoy reading this drabble, I absolutely had so much fun writing this one, it’s super cute.Please, like/reblog this if you enjoy reading it and let me know your thoughts through an ask if you feel like it; I am always appreciative of your feedback! As always, happy reading!
When Chan threw a rock at your bedroom window asking if you wanted to join him on a late-night rendezvous at the local grocery store, you didn’t think twice. After grabbing your jacket and climbing down the stairs, you found him parked in front of your driveway, the engine breaking the underwhelming silence of the night.
You quickly joined him inside his car and soon enough, he was driving the two of you through the quiet and empty streets of this town, stopping at every red light only to increase the volume of the radio slightly so the two of you could sing even louder than before. These small moments were what you loved the most whenever you were with him. They were simple and happened in a blink of an eye, but their impact left you with memories that never faded. If anything, time only made them stronger and more precious.
After he parked his car at the grocery store, the two of you started to make your way towards the entrance.
“So… what are we buying this time?” You asked Chan as you walked backwards so you could face him. “Is it gummy bears again? Or have you upgraded and we’re buying other stuff now?”
He chuckled and messed his hair before putting his hood on. You turned around and started to walk alongside him, the yellow light from the grocery store sign reflecting in the puddles near the entrance.
“We’re buying gummy bears again and some popcorn too. I plan on having a movie night soon so I have to be prepared.”
“Do you have any beverages at home? You might need those too for your movie night…”
He nodded and shoved his hands in his pockets, glancing at the entrance door. You noticed the closing time and realised the two of you had more or less ten minutes to buy whatever Chan needed. This if they didn’t stop you from buying at all.
Inside the grocery store, an overplayed radio song blasted through the speakers louder than expected. The bright lights hurt your eyes slightly and you had to blink to get used to them.
Chan didn’t waste any time in the different aisles. After all, every time you came with him to the grocery store, he reminded you of a man on a mission. He went straight to the right aisles and only grabbed what he wanted. He never glanced at the same thing more than twice.
You, on the other hand, tended to get lost on the new products and whatever sale the grocery store had going on. This time, you got curious about the different colours of the energy drinks that were on sale. You didn’t need them, but buying one couldn’t hurt, right? Besides, they weren’t full price.
“Which flavour would you like?” You asked Chan, picking two different colours. You laughed at the bright blue one and extended it his way. “This one matches your hair. Maybe it tastes like you…?”
“I don’t think I taste like blueberry.” He took the bottle from your hand and started to read the label, keeping his head down. However, you noticed his cheeks slightly flushed and his best attempt at hiding them from you with his hood still on.
“What do you taste like, then?” You boldly asked, taking the bottle from his hand and gesturing to the rows of bottles next to you. “I’m taking this blue one to try, choose one and I’ll pay for it.”
He scanned the different labels as he patted his lip, reading them carefully before moving on to the next one. What you thought would be a quick decision on his part took longer than expected. At one point, he removed his hood and messed up his blue hair, biting his lower lip.
You gulped, unable to take your eyes from him as your heartbeat increased in your chest. Whether he was aware of it or not, Chan was quite wonderful to admire and there was always something new to discover in him. This time, you smiled at how his brows furrowed the more focused he was. Why was this so difficult for him?
“I’ll get going to the cashier otherwise they won’t let us pay. Don’t take too long to pick, alright?”
When Chan didn’t answer you, you sighed and turned around, making your way out of the aisle and towards the only cashier still working.
“What’s your favourite flavour?” At Chan’s question, you stopped in your tracks and turned around to look at him, confused. You moved closer to him again and scanned the different labels, trying to find the one with the flavour you tended to enjoy the most in other beverages.
“This one.” You grabbed the bottle from the shelf and showed it to Chan, smiling. “Why do you ask, though?”
After he put his hood back on, he shrugged and smirked, looking you in the eyes.
“Maybe I just want to taste like your favourite flavour, that’s all.” Your lips parted in surprise and Chan lowered his head, making his way out of the aisle. “Consider that one as my choice, by the way.”
This time, you were the one having a hard time dealing with his words. You tried your best to prevent his statement from getting to you, but you couldn’t help it. Your body was suddenly on fire and your heart couldn’t calm down, no matter how hard you tried.
You glanced at your hands, looking at the two bottles side by side, and smiled. Two distinct shades with different flavours, but you were sure they’d match well together, just like you and Chan.
Sub!Chan x reader | fluff, the tiniest bit of angst (if any)
Warnings: Chan goes into subspace and calls you mommy, that’s about it
Word count: 1 091
A/N: So, uh, yeah. I’m getting tired of reading the same sub!idol pwp smut fics, so I decided to make something of my own. I’m not really proud of it, but it’s been sitting in my drafts for so long that I just need to get it out, lol. Anyways, thank you all for your patience and support, and I hope you enjoy! ♥
I feel like Chan would often go into subspace when really stressed. A place where he could feel small, safe, and warm. Where his mind grew fuzzy, all worries escaping him at once and being replaced with nothing but you. You, his biggest support, who always helped him relax and be the vulnerable one for once.
He very much deserved it, after all. With the long, tiring days filled with work and leading others, you knew he needed someone to help him destress as well. And you, being the perfect partner, were very willing to do so.
This wasn’t an immediate thing in your relationship, though. It took a long time for Chan to trust you completely and to talk about his problems. And it took even longer for him to start voicing his own needs and wants without feeling guilty, weak, or incompetent.
But you were patient and waited. And so, slowly, you could see Chan’s walls finally begin to break down around you.
He felt uneasy about it at first. It felt strangely wrong to be so emotionally open with someone else. But eventually, as he grew more comfortable in your relationship, Chan realized just good opening up made him feel. It was as if his heart became lighter, finally spared of carrying all of his secrets and worries on its own.
Obviously, this dynamic between you two was kept well hidden at all times. In public, you let Chan assume the usual leading role, allowing him to slip into the position he was most comfortable in around people.
Once behind closed doors, however, it was a completely different story. Almost like the flick of a switch, Chan’s demeanor flipped around, and now he was the one relying on you to soothe him after a long day, to hold him close and shush his cries after the particularly bad ones.
This eventually led to your apartment becoming a trigger of sorts. A good trigger, of course. Something that immediately put his mind at ease and slowed down all the thoughts running through his head the whole day.
But every once in a while, even that wouldn’t be enough.
The stress, the bottled-up emotions, the pressure from all sides, it just became too much for him. With the last bits of his energy, he kept up the facade just long enough to make it home, where he would finally let himself crumble into your arms, even more so than usual.
Just like now, when he finally arrived at the door to your shared apartment. It was an unusually long and tiring day today where nothing seemed to go right and took ten times longer than usual. And once he thought things couldn’t get any worse, he managed to get himself into a petty fight with Jisung over basically nothing, making him feel horrible for the rest of the day.
Frankly, at this point, he just couldn’t wait to run into your arms and melt into you. And so, with a sigh and a hint of a smile on his lips, he unlocked the door, stepping inside.
Already, as he placed his shoes next to yours on the shoe rack, his head started to feel fuzzy. Fuzzy at the idea of you waiting home for him, his very own safe haven.
He quietly trudged down the hall, letting his feet pat on the linoleum floor as he went to wash his hands in the bathroom. While there, he stopped to look at the reflection of himself in the mirror, noticing the exhaustion and stress written all over his face. He frowned to himself, silently promising to go to bed earlier today (a promise he probably won’t be able to keep, unfortunately).
He was brought out of his thoughts by a small shuffling noise outside, feeling his heart thump in his chest as he realized it must have been you.
You.
He was looking forward to seeing you somuch, practically dying to be in your arms once again and bask in all the love and attention you liked to shower him in.
As he gently dried his hands, he could feel himself quickly slipping into subspace. His mind clouded over even more, and each of his touches and movements became softer and slower.
Carefully, he opened the door, peaking out slightly.
“Mommy?” He called out weakly, gripping onto the sleeve of his hoodie with his free hand to keep himself grounded just a little while longer.
Getting no response, he hesitantly stepped out of the bathroom to search the apartment. As he walked around, he let both of his hands slip inside of his hoodie, making little paws for himself to warm his fingers.
But after checking the bedroom, the kitchen, the guest room, and even the bathroom again just to be sure, he still couldn’t find you.
Feeling lost, he stood in the living room, fumbling with his hands as he was unsure of what to do.
“M-mommy? Where are you?” He called out again, feeling a strange, uncomfortable feeling twisting in his chest from your unexpected absence.
You had to be home, right? He clearly saw your shoes when he was taking off his. He even saw your coat hanging by the door, didn’t he?
Maybe he should go check the entrance again, maybe-
A sudden giggle from behind startled him out of his thoughts, making him jump a bit.
He quickly turned around to look for the source of the sound, an adorable look of confusion and surprise on his face as he did so. Just then, he noticed your figure on the couch, comfortably lying under a big, fluffy blanket. When his eyes finally met yours, you gave him a small grin, chuckling lightly at his expression.
“O-oh,” was all he managed to say, turning beet red as he realized you were in plain sight the whole time, watching him wander around the apartment as he searched for you. He was already so far away in his mind, he somehow managed to completely miss you laying on the couch.
“There you go, Channie,” you smiled fondly before lifting the blanket off of you and opening your arms to him.
He didn’t need to be told anything else after that, already on his way to dive head-first into your embrace. You let out a small huff as his weight dropped onto you, but wrapped your arms around him nonetheless, letting your baby finally relax after the long day.
Thank you for reading! And remember, any feedback is always appreciated! ♥
summary -> there’s nothing worse than falling for your best friend, is there? Add him moving away to the mix.
word count -> 2.5k
genre -> friends to lovers!au, angst
warnings -> mutual pining, both of you are absolute dumbasses about your feelings at first but very painfully obvious now, nothing else.
past.
“You’re my past, my present, and i hope, i awfully hope you’ll be my future,”
You finish and look up at Seungmin, he holds his breath and his face gradually twists into one of those smiles that make your heart feel at ease. And he feels the same, it’s right in his eyes as he holds out your hand –
And you open your eyes to yourself, hair unkempt and in front of the mirror. You were practicing confessing to your best friend and a version of you that was not completely a fool in love rolled its eyes at you, this was so typical, falling for your best friend, fantasizing about him feeling the same, it was all so cliche.
But it went away as you shook your head, there’s nothing wrong in it.
In about a few hours, all your friends would come over, including seungmin for a casual hangout and normally you would be scrolling instagram until seungmin came and reminded you what time it was.
This was just how every weekend of yours went by.
But today instead of the usual relief in your senses that you could finally relax after a hectic week, a nervous fiddling sensation took over you as you anticipated that the clock hit the 5:00 pm mark quickly.
present.
You sit on seungmin’s bed fiddling with the handle of his bag, touching along the rough surface of it. You’re shocked you still have tears in you, given the amount you’ve cried as the realization of it all settled in you, and blink them away. You were going to be okay, besides you can’t afford to cry in front of Seungmin, you can’t make him weak, it’s already going to be so hard for him.
As you scratch off a spare piece of dirt from the bag, you can’t believe it gets to stay with seungmin and you don’t. So silly.
you think back to that day again, it was july, early july, yes. You remember how your heart was practically jumping out of your throat as you saw him.
And it was Han who found out, it was one of the gatherings you all kept at the time, you planned it at yours this time, wanting to confess while cleaning up or when the rest of them are gone because it was almost always this way; they’d come over and have fun, watch movies but at the end of the day only your best friend would stick around to clean up or vice versa if it was at his. It often ended in a sleepover with you both being so tired that you’d fall asleep right about just anywhere.
Back to Han, he wanted a pen for your cousin, who was visiting at the time, to write down her number and he knew that being the nerd he was, seungmin would have a pen and paper with him. The movie was paused for a quick bathroom break for seungmin when your cousin had finally given into the han’s shameless flirting and had accepted to give her number. Han had discovered the acceptance letter then, perched between his books, not in an intention of hiding, almost as if he wanted it to be discovered.
A dark blue envelope with a huge “to, mr. kim seungmin” written in professional handwriting. And when seungmin came back, his friend looked at him with a small smile, clearly offended that his friend didn’t tell him, but he still got over that quickly and hugged him tight, he was so proud of him.
Meanwhile seungmin had looked to you, and while you knew seungmin had an interest in going abroad, you didn’t actually quite believe it till that moment. And you had comforted him, if that’s what made him happy then he should obviously go for it.
And he let out a sigh in relief.
But time had stopped for you, what was supposed to be something special had ended tragically and you felt pain sear through your heart slowly, taking over your body slowly.
But deep down you both knew that even though you told him that it was okay, it wasn’t quite the case. He could sense the disappointment you had in him in the next few days in the form of distance you gave him, the silent treatment.
They only stopped when he confronted you about it, and you apologised and confessed to him, who would like their best friend moving away?
To which he had told you it’d be okay, he’ll stay in touch and be back before you know it.
Thinking about him, he comes out of the bathroom with his hair moist and skin glossy. He’s, unfortunately, dressed, as the tshirt sticks to his obviously wet torso. You can almost see the wheels in his brain spinning as he makes sure he’s taken everything and has planned everything. As he looks at you, he shoots you a smile.
And it pains him more than anything in this world to do it, because he chose this, he shouldn’t be regretting it, he shouldn’t be hiding the fact that he isn’t happy, from you; but he doesn’t want you asking the reason behind it, because clearly he was very happy about his admission letter when it came in 2 months ago.
But it was before. It was before the realization that hit him on the head suddenly and caught him off guard that he’s in love with his best friend. And he thought it’d go away, he’d ignore it and that would be it. But as the days passed and the time he’d have to spend away from you came closer, he wished on every shooting star in the world for it to be cancelled, some unexpected thing to pop up, anything.
He can’t tell you this obviously, because as of now, it’s concrete he’s going and if you even reciprocate a proportion of his feelings, you’d be hurt and he did not want it.
past.
The screen had gone black, leaving the dark room in silence in its wake. And the credits began rolling on the screen. Some trashy ost plays in the background and as seungmin reaches for the remote on the table, a question lights up your brain.
‘what if he doesn’t feel the same?‘
You’re 14, and you don’t see a problem with being in love with your best friend except one, which might just be the downfall of the very feeling.
Oh wait, no, there’s another, 'what if he does feel the same, but you both don’t work out?’ that’d automatically be a crash for a great friendship.
And the movie which revolved around two best friends trying to navigate problems while being with each other and just ending up together gave you hope, you wouldn’t lie, but you also knew real life was nothing like a movie.
So you tried to get your answer slyly, lying on your back on the sofa of seungmin’s basement, you watched him as he wrapped up the stuff that was littered around, spare pieces of popcorn, wrappers from packets of chips, to get ready to sleep.
As he tried finding them all, you stretched your hand, and looked at the ceiling, and as nonchalantly as possible -
“Minnie, did you like the movie?”
“Uh huh,”
“The plot?”
“Kinda?” he said, still not looking up from his work.
“Do you think best friends can end up as lovers?” dropped the bomb.
“I-, well,” he looked up and you turned to him, the tension in the air was thicker than it had ever been.
“It depends on the person,” and for a moment you think, he might confess or if he doesn’t you have the urge to, but -
“And besides that was a movie, y/n, a movie.”
He knows, now, or has a hunch about what you were trying to tell him.
present.
Maybe if he had been a little more intelligent he would have realized it then and he wouldn’t be here in this ordeal.
And even though all of the articles he found on long distance relationships were positive, he didn’t wanna do that. It was too much longing.
So he was just going to have to leave and try to forget you, because in this case he can’t have you return his feelings. Just no, he doesn’t know how he can leave after that.
He glanced at you, trying to look around the room for things he could possibly need but have forgotten.
And goddamn is he in love with you.
The reality hits you once more as you’re taking the bags downstairs, he’s leaving, he’s taking all of your happiness with him, he’s taking away the bracelet you made him when you were 7 but you’re sure it’d be forgotten. He checks the time on his watch, “3:00 pm.” he announces, his flight is in 3 hours, and in 3 hours your relationship, your friendship will be a thing of the past.
present.
You don’t believe it’ll remain the same even after he promises you with a comforting smile everytime you bring it up.
His parents give you a sympathetic look as you shoot them a smile; it’s going to be fine, his mother had told you. “You can come visit when you miss him.” and you’d rather bite your own knee then visit this house where you spent most of your childhood and all of your teenage years without the boy who made it alive.
Seungmin sees you zoning out and it makes him wanna rip apart his admission letter, tear away the suitcases and stay here forever. But he takes one look at his watch which draws closer to his departure and recounts if he has everything for the umpteenth time.
And you wanted to break down all over again as you saw the bags piled over near the door where you’d run in together during summer hoping your popsicles don’t melt until you can slurp and look into the mirror and see the color on your tongues, secretly hoping what the two colours would look if mixed;
The original plan was for you to see him off at the house itself; but his parents urge you to come to the airport and you pick at your sweater, thinking of ways to stop your tears. And even Seungmin insists you tag along, he doesn’t even want to waste a minute of being with you.
and you bury your upset inside deeper; you need to keep your friend strong.
a few of your common friends drop by as his father loads the luggage in the back of his car; the sun is a pretty shade of orange mixed with pink, a little dull and depressed due to its defeat to the moon in a few hours.
you think about how you’ll keep on replaying this evening over and over again for nights to come. thinking about something you could have said to make the pain go away because feelings weigh down on you, threaten to crush you apart when you don’t let them out and that was exactly what was going on with the both of you.
Han, as he completed talking to his friend, walked over to you sitting on the porch, and took a seat there.
“are you okay?” he asks in a whisper. “i mean your best friend is going away,”
he emphasises his ‘best friend’ a little too much to be in a normal way and you narrow your eyes at him.
“fuck you,” you roll your eyes playfully and laughs as well. it was an unspoken thing between you two, he knew you liked seungmin but he kept his mouth shut and you knew that he did.
“but for real though,” his expressions transition to serious after he’s done laughing. “are you going to tell him or not?”
“no,” you deadpan.
“why? it’s so fucking obvious he likes you!” he groans.
“I don’t know, han. firstly i’m not even sure he likes me and second, even if he does, we’re not guaranteed to work long distance so it’s better if he finds someone else there and we’ll see it from there if or when he’s back.”
“you’re dumb.”
you shoot him a grin, “i know.”
later, you’re in the car, you’re going over something suitable to say, because the atmosphere is tense. his parents are getting as upset as you as their only son is about to leave.
and seungmin; seungmin feels like he could start bawling his eyes out anywhere, he didn’t want to leave his world, his home.
but it was his choice and now he had to own up to it.
And finally about two hours later, he’s glancing at his city, his parents and his world, all for the last time. He wants to turn back time and never ever write the essay that got him in here in the first place, but it’s impossible.
“We’ll go get some snacks for you?” His parents sense the need for privacy and excuse themselves. Meanwhile you try to not cry your very existence out.
“so,” he turns back. you’re on the boarding gate almost, after this, it can be almost a year when you see him again, and you //know//, you just know you both won’t be the same as now.
“I didn’t think you’d come actually,”
“to the airport?”
“to see me off, i know you’re not happy with my decision.”
And you don’t deny it; no more playful bantering.
“I mean we did plan to go to a college near us, but well things change and I couldn’t let you leave without saying goodbye.’’
and you hug your best friend.
you don’t want him to go, you want to confess to him, make him regret taking this decision. but as much as you loved him, he loved his dreams.
and as for you, seeing him content would be enough.
and so, after his parents return and his mother sniffles a little, he leaves.
he promises he’ll stay in touch, give you updates, a dorm tour, and you give him a day or two before he gets busy. and you don’t blame him, you accept it and you move on.
it is hard on the first night, you toss and turn, about to text seungmin to let him know you can’t sleep and to possibly sneak out and sit on the bench outside your house just staring up at the sky. but as you pick up your phone you realize that he’s not coming.
so it sucks but you hug your pillow and try to forget it. but ended up wetting with the constant flow of your tears.
you move on with your life, your classes, new friends, a whole new kind of life without your best friend.
but then his face turns into a small icon you see on instagram putting up stories of the new cafes he visits and the new people he meets.
and he contacts you first, a lot, updates you, facetimes you.
the prince of the sea ; hyunjin | series masterlist
word count: 5.2k
warnings: angst, fluff, fantasy au, themes of horror (no gore, just general feeling of unease), lowkey stockholm syndrome, hyunjin is uncomfortably very full on, implied sex, maybe don’t read if you have thalassophobia
a/n: this ended up much longer than i anticipated but it’s finally done!!! i hope you guys enjoy it as much as i enjoyed writing it ;___;
The red sails above tremble under the whistling wind, a stark contrast to the gloomy grey skies. Undecided rain threatens to fall at any moment as the ship creaks and groans in distaste for the salty waters it safeguards you from. Truthfully, you had only agreed to venture on this expedition under the guise that it would be short and three weeks into it, you’re no closer to your destination. The captain had made sure that you were accommodated of course, you have your own private quarters adorned with silken sheets and gorgeous shining silverware; so not all is bad. Still, you’re what the locals dub “a landwalker” and for good reason; you would much prefer solid ground to the volatile waters.
Now the heavens pour open, a bad omen, rain begins to lash against your skin like tiny knives and you’re painfully aware of the entire crew’s eyes boring into your skull. You’d heard them protest as you boarded, some even spat at the ground as you passed but you held your head high and made your way to the captain, maps in hand and ready to assist whenever needed.
“Bad luck to have a woman on board,” it’s the first time a crew member dared speak to you, or rather, about you in this case. You raise an eyebrow as he stares, arms crossed tightly over his chest. “‘Specially in these waters.”
“And why is that?” you quiz, mimicking his stance, “Blatant sexism or just plain stupidity?”
Your remark earns some jeers from onlooking crewmen, one even pats you on the back. The first man shakes his head with a grimace.
“Come on lass, you’re telling me you haven’t heard the tales?”
Of course you are aware of the stories, you remember your Father reading you fables of the Prince of the Sea, an eternally woeful being whose spilled tears crafted the very ocean you sail upon. It’s said that he mourns the death of his beloved and is in search of anew. That his elegy of sorrow enchants whomever’s ears it happens to fall upon, luring them to their untimely demise. As a child you felt sorry for the Prince, losing his betrothed and while mourning being pestered by unwanted ships in his realm. Now as an adult, you see the tales for exactly what they are, propaganda to prevent women from sailing the seas
“You need not concern me with your stories,” you reply with a scoff, “Especially not old wives tales crafted to fuel your sexist agenda.”
“Made up stories, eh?” he says through gritted teeth, “Ships go missin’ with women on ‘em far too much to be coincidence.”
“Then I suggest you keep your eyes open for trouble instead of wasting my time.”
You’re thankful when he retreats, mumbling what you can only imagine to be curses under his breath. It need not concern you, all that matters to you at this moment is tracking your whereabouts and leading the crew to their destination. Rain continues to fall, your hair begins to drip at the ends as you wipe the drops from your compass. The dial spins for a moment before comfortably setting on the east.
It’s unusually welcoming when night falls, the crew’s boisterous clamouring quietens and the final shanty has been sung. The deluge had finally subsided too, replaced by a vista of stars; you divine them, tracing the shapes of latent constellations. The ship sways with the tide, rocking the crew to a gentle sleep and leaving you almost completely alone, save for a few nocturnal sailors who chug rum like it’s water. They’d fall into an alcohol induced slumber soon enough. You watch the waves as they languidly ebb and flow against the hull and suddenly you’re homesick; longing to see your friends and family again. It has been longer than anticipated and will be longer still; you begin to wonder if they’re worried. The thoughts consume you and for a brief lapse in judgement, you consider joining the drunken sea dogs who are now passed out on deck. You shake your head and chuckle at their misfortune, unbeknownst to your own.
Fog begins to rapidly roll in seemingly from nowhere and at once your vision deteriorates. Through the thick clouds, you call out to someone — anyone, yet no one heeds your call. Instead, a haunting melody echoes around you, an otherworldly eerie requiem of sorrow that lurches your heart. You can’t control your sobbing, the tears flood from your eyes like waterfalls and your gut wrenches as the song grows closer and louder. Now, you can see the crew — some crashing into each other, some gasping for air, some crying uncontrollably and some screaming. They wail, they beg for the reaper to take them. And still you’re crying, weeping as you navigate through the mist to find the Captain. It’s futile, the density of the fog proving to be too much. Below you, the ship screams in agony; wood snapping and metal clanging and you feel the hull you peacefully watched not long ago be torn apart. There’s nothing you can do; you are at the mercy of the sea now and you simply pray. Pray that somehow you might survive and return to your family and friends unscatched.
The darkness steals that dream.
*************
You aren’t sure how long you’ve been out. A minute? A day? Time eludes you. You blink your eyes, squinting to adjust to your new surroundings and you’re taken aback. The room is extravagant, home to a four poster bed that almost takes up the entire space. On the walls are antiquated paintings, fitted with threads of golden embellishments that glint and sparkle. Below them, lies an immaculately tidy, pure white vanity table — adorned with opulent gems and jewels and a full oval mirror. Wherever you were, the host did not spare the details of your accommodation.
You decide to investigate, rummaging through drawers and cabinets to find someclue to your whereabouts. As you approach the door to the room, the faint smell of dew tickles your nose and it reminds you that your clothes are damp. Or, they’re supposed to be. When you look down, you’re surprised to find your attire to be drastically different; a long, pearl nightdress drapes over your figure. Now you’re panic stricken, knowing someone had changed your clothing coupled with the ignorance of your whereabouts proving too much for you.
Right as you’re about to beseech for aid, you hear it; the same chilling verses from the ship, echoing throughout the halls of wherever you are. Curiosity gets the better of you, your fingers twist the golden doorknob and you venture outside the confines of the room; warily following the music to its source. Through winding corridors and narrow passages until finally you find it.
In the centre of the room sits a grand piano but your eyes merely gloss over it. Instead, they focus on the massive window that touches both the ceiling and the floors; however, it’s the view that truly catches your attention. Through the glass lies a forest inundated by the sea, the sunlight above struggles to penetrate through the dense grouping of kelp trapped in the muted expanse. It’s astonishing, it’s magical and it confirms your location in an instant. Your eyes slowly return to the piano and you finally see the fabled Prince of the Sea, fingers ghosting over the keys in his haunting composition.
Your first reaction is to panic, your eyes dart around the room in search of somewhere to run, somewhere to hideas your face turns a chalky white, drained of all life. Your eyes blur as tears begin to gush from them and fear tugs at your soul. You’re too young to die, there’s so much you haven’t done. The faces of your friends, of your family flash in spectacular colours in your mind as your legs give way beneath you and you fall to your knees in anguish.
“Please, do not be afraid.” A voice, so soft and gentle it rips you from the maddened terror momentarily. Of course, it could only belong to him; such a melodic tone from such a frightening being; it doesn’t make sense in your head. “You’re safe.”
“Safe?” You repeat, wiping the tears from your eyes and finally meeting his gaze; glacial blue eyes that peer into the darkest reaches of your soul yet the warmest smile you’d ever laid eyes upon. His golden hair is flattened against his cheeks, wet as though fresh from the rain. “You’re not going to hurt me?”
“Hurt you?” His brow furrows and he genuinely sounds offended, enough so to manifest some guilt within yourself. “You have given me no reason to.”
The guilt dissipates and fear creeps back up your throat. “Ah,” is all you can choke out,afraid that you mayjust give him a reason. Still, he is ever smiling and even offers a hand to help you up from the ground. Warily, you accept the gesture.
“Hyunjin,” he says as he helps you up, “And you are?”
“Y/n,” you reply, dusting off your knees. “But you’renotjustHyunjin, are you?”
To this, Hyunjin chuckles darkly; striding back over to the great piano and perching himself neatly on the seat. When you don’t move, he beckons you by patting the empty space next to him. Again, you are cautious yet you move swiftly to avoid conflict. “Only those who know me call me by my name,” he says, beginning to coax yet another melody from the instrument, “Others know me as—”
“Prince of the Sea,” you finish his sentence, eyes never wavering from the piano keys. “My Father used to tell tales of you when I was young.”
“And you’re not afraid?” Hyunjin asks with faux curiosity, “How very brave. Or terribly foolish.”
You dare not answer, opting instead to listen to the music that Hyunjin plays so eloquently. For a moment, you both bask in the sombre song; sharing an odd kinship. Hyunjin plays from his soul, the chords reaching deep down into his core and manifesting in an elegy of desperation; of sweet sadness. It feels strangely humbling to hear.
“You are a good listener,” he says when your eyes gently close and you begin humming to the melody, “A trait to be desired.”
Perhaps he’s correct. Or perhaps civility is a mask for fear.
********
Time seems to stand still in the palace; since sunlight cannot breach the murky waters, you aren’t sure how many days it’s been since you first arrived in Hyunjin’s domain. For the few hours after your first meeting, you wandered the empty corridors through twists and turns, leaving no stone unturned in this abyssal abode. One particular dark room, stowed deep in the sub reaches intrigued you so, however a lock kept it safe from prying eyes. In the meantime, Hyunjin has been perfectly pleasant towards you, making sure you are eating and drinking well and presenting you with many gifts — knick knacks of sorts, clothing and jewels that even a Queen would envy. You’re acutely aware, of course, just whyhe’s being so kind to you — the stories say as much. You have no intention of staying, your primary goal is to free yourself from his shackles and get back to your friends and family.
It’s one particular day (or at least you thinkit’s day) where Hyunjin requests you wear a very specific dress; one of scarlet velvet and trimmed with obsidian lace. Of course, you comply — fear holds its grip on you tightly and you worry that failure to do so would result in your early expiration. You meet him in an ample room with similar floor to ceiling windows as the great hall, only this room is littered with various sheets, splattered with a rainbow of colours and containers filled to the brim with glossy paint. In the centre of the room, Hyunjin sits patiently across from a black chaise; a worn apron protecting his attire.
“Wow,” he says, head leaning on a hand as he watches you approach, “You look absolutely beautiful.”
It takes you aback and you’re unsure how to respond; losing your composure for just a moment, your cheeks burning almost as bright as your gown. “Thanks,” you say simply with a small bow just in case before setting yourself atop the cushions. “You’re an artist?”
Hyunjin hums an affirmation, busying himself with architecting his easel and perching a pure white canvas atop it, nodding at a small collection of brushes at his side. “You could say that.”
“And your subject?” You ask warily.
“Sits before me,” he smiles, studying you with the eye of a true virtuoso. “Relax, Y/n. It takes time, you don’t want to be uncomfortable, do you?”
No, you do not.
So you sit there, still and quiet while Hyunjin’s keen eye captures your essence; his brushstrokes are as graceful and delicate as he is — they bewitch you into a trance. Your eyes gently close and you slip slowly into slumber only to be awoken by a gentle glissando. When your eyes flutter open and are met with a hydrous lyre floating gingerly in the air next to Hyunjin, you gasp.
“My apologies,” he says, eyes sternly focusing on the painting, “I did not mean to wake you, only to amuse myself with some music.”
“No, it’s alright,” you reply, now very aware of the silence between you. There’s part of you that wants to get to know him, to know this mythical being that stories were passed down from generation to generation. Someone of that calibre must have lived a riveting life. Though to ask such questions out of the blue would be morbidly rude. “You’re a very capable man,” you hope to ignite some conversation, “A painter, a conjurer, a songster and a musician.”
“And yet, my social skills are severely lacking.”
You laugh, truly, and it shocks you. “A comedian too?”
Hyunjin joins you in laughter, chuckling as he continues darting his eyes between you and the canvas. “Truthfully though, I simply have a lot of time on my hands to learn new crafts,” he says once the laughter quietens, “Art, music, languages, literature; trivial pastimes to distract the mind.”
“How profound.”
“So it is true that if you brand yourself an artist people will naturally attach more meaning to the things you say.”
You shake your head as he jests, “Your words dohave meaning, the stories and songs tell of your loneliness.”
To this, Hyunjin gives a poignant smile.
“I’ve learned every instrument, read every book in my library and speak every language that piques my interest and still, there is a vast emptiness inside me.”
Intense, but you’re glad to finally be addressing the elephant in the room. A sense of sadness falls about Hyunjin, one you hadn’t seen since arriving. He shifts uncomfortably in his chair.
“I understand,” you begin, edging to the end of the chair and clasping your hands neatly in your lap, “Loneliness can be all consuming, especially when it’s born from losing a loved one.”
Hyunjin regards your comment with yet another pitiful smile. “True indeed, sometimes it feels as though my memories are more alive than I.”
The open honesty tugs at the strings of your heart; your compassion is immense and you have the impulse to lunge forward and cradle him in your arms. Hearing stories of his loss, details lost in transference, is one thing; to look him in the eye as his heart pours open for you is another. You’re at a loss for words, solemnly watching as Hyunjin continues his painting.
“Forgive me, I’ve made you uncomfortable.”
“No, not at all.” He can tell you’re lying.
The conversation comes to a natural stop as you assume the original position for the portrait. Hyunjin quietly hums along to the music as he works, occasionally flipping his blonde locks from his eyes. Briefly, you forget the circumstances of your arrangement; right now you are simply two beings sharing an unspoken moment.
“Are you excited to see the finished work?” He asks, eyeing you over the canvas, “It’s almost finished.”
“Yes, of course,” you reply, “Although, I’m not entirely sure if I have the look for it.”
This stops him dead in his tracks, his head lops to the side and he eyes you curiously. “What do you mean?”
“Just that paintings are for the rich and the beautiful,” yousay and Hyunjin scoffs.
“My dear, beautyis in the eye of the beholder.”
You blink, unsure of what to say.
“Come, see for yourself how others see you.”
And so you do, moving swiftly behind Hyunjin and peering over his shoulder to admire his work. Before you, there is someone who resembles you, yet the features you are most self conscious about seem to harmonise. It’s mind boggling and you look down to Hyunjin in disbelief.
“This…doesn’t feel like me.”
“Because your perception is warped. You see only what is reflected in glass or water.”
Now, Hyunjin turns to face you and you’re eminently aware of just how close the two of you are. It’s the first time that you’ve been so intimate with him and you curse your heart for pounding so much in your chest.
“You do not see yourself mid laughter or when you have your nose buried in a book,” he continues; eyes locking with yours as he raises his hand, cupping your cheek gently. “Those moments are where true beauty lies.”
How you are so captivated by your captor bewilders you, yet his words penetrate your soul; every inch of your body feels as though it’s set aflame. When you are ever silent, he laughs and retreats his hand.
“Forgive me again if I’ve made you uncomfortable.”
“No, not at all.”
And you truly meant it this time.
*****************
The next week or so, Hyunjin’s gift giving becomes more frequent; every day you awaken to some form of gift at the edge of your bed, delivered by your own nautical magpie. Never have you been gifted so heavily, you begin to think your thank you’s are losing their meaning. Not only have you been bombarded with gifts, but each time you pass each other by as you explore or as he seats you at the dinner table; there is a veil of passion between you. Neither party acknowledges the faint tinge of desire but both feel it coursing through their veins. You do not yet understand it but you feel drawn to him like a sailor to the open sea.
Hyunjin had been leaving you alone most of the time, to your surprising dismay; allowing you freedom to spend time in the multitude of recreational rooms that filled the halls. Your most favourite of all being the library where Hyunjin’s vast collection of tomes rivals even the most learned academics in the city.
“You can read anything here, provided you speak the language.” Hyunjin had told you with a wink.
“And if I don’t, perhaps you wouldn’t mind teaching me.” You had replied.
And so he did. Huddled around a cramped desk, stacked to the heavens with literature and poems in romantic languages some of which you hadn’t even heard of. When you make a mistake, he laughs hard and it’s so therapeutic to hear. When you’re correct, he beams with pride and gently squeezes your hand. Another fleeting moment passes in which you are simply two people; two strangers becoming acquainted.
Once dinner time approaches, he leads you to the dining room and seats you directly next to him; this was new to you. Previously you’d been across from him and nothing more — your heart begins to pound in your chest.
“You know,” you say as you sit, “I’ve never seen a single person other than us here, who is cooking the food?”
Hyunjin chuckles, taking his own seat after tucking yours in, “You only thought to ask this now?” When you nod he shrugs, “I have an imp pet who takes care of it.”
You have no idea if he’s joking or not but the time to question him passes as he begins to eat; encouraging you to do the same. You would love to eat, really, but your heart is lodged in your throat and the feeling only worsens as Hyunjin takes your hand in his.
“Having you here has been wonderful,” he says, out of the blue and you can’t help but blush, “it’s been a long time since i’ve been this happy.”
“I’m glad I can help,” you reply, truthfully you don’t really know what to say.
The two of you finish your food, hands tied together the entire time and once your fork is placed neatly beside the plate, Hyunjin pulls you to your feet.
“Where are we going?”
“You’ll see.”
Soon enough, you’re met with the familiar view of the closed off room you found the first day you arrived and you look at Hyunjin with curiosity. From his shirt pocket he pulls a tiny key before twisting it into the lock and springing the door open; what you find inside is unlike anything you’ve ever seen.
Glass replaces the concrete walls of the room, it’s like stepping into the open ocean yet breathing air. Sunlight pours in brilliant beams, illuminating the multi coloured coral reef that borders the underwater palace. Marine life is rife here, various schools of fish swirl in perfect synchrony, leaving a glimmering trail in their wake. You gape at Hyunjin before running off to get a better view.
“This is incredible,” you marvel, hands pressed against the glass, “It’s beautiful.”
“Yes, it is.”
Hyunjin joins you, wrapping a hand around your waist; it catches you off guard and you spin to face him. Now, you can see him so clearly; bathed in the light of the sun, his eyes shine and his flaxen hair frames his features so perfectly. Briefly, you blink absently.
“Y/n,” he speaks low, maintaining eye contact and when you try to avert your gaze, his hand cups your cheek and reels you right back in. There’s a serene silence between you as he brushes the stray hairs from your face, taking in all of you. It’s when his lips press against your own that you lose all inhibitions, letting his tongue explore your mouth as his hands pull you closer by the waist. You cannot escape this primal need to be closer to him, to let your arms sling around his neck and allow yourself to be held; to melt into him.
One kiss is all it takes for you to tumble into bed with him. Hyunjin takes it slow with you, though you are unsure whether it’s so he can greedily savour every second or to provide you with comfort. Not that it matters when he’s making you feel so good. You lose yourself, submitting fully to him; letting yourself reach highs you never thought existed. When you’re spent, lying flush against him and panting, he cradles you in his arms and smothers the top of your head in tiny kisses.
“It might come as a shock to you,” Hyunjin muses aloud, eyes looking anywhere but you, “but I think I may have found my missing piece.”
To this, you glance up at him and laugh at the sight of his usually pale face burning beetroot, “What do you mean?”
“It means you complete me and I believe I am in love with you.”
Whoa.
Before you even begin to formulate a reply, Hyunjin butts in.
“Don’t worry, you don’t have to reciprocate it just yet,” he says, now looking down at you, “I just wanted you to know.”
You truly are at a loss for words, it feels far too soon for your liking for him to be devoting himself to you yet you are blinded by the rose tinted glasses. Without answering, you nuzzle in the crook of his arm and allow yourself to be coaxed into slumber by Hyunjin absently playing with your hair as you drift into a rest filled with fantastical dreams of what could be.
Reality can never really compare with dreams.
The next morning you return to the glass room and gaze upon the bustling ocean life with childlike wonder, feeling fortunate that you get to view the sea life in a way no other mortal had. You follow the fish, counting every species you see and recognise. It’s not long until Hyunjin finds you and sits neatly on the floor by your side.
“You seem to like this place a lot.” he observes, leaning back on two hands to get a better view of you.
“It’s like a different world down here.” You reply, watching with awe as the fish scatter when what looks like a transparent shark passes through the reef. Strange. It’s only upon closer inspection that you realise it’s not a shark but the aquatic outline of a…person?
“Hyunjin,” you grab his attention by pulling on his sleeve and pointing at the figure, “What isthat?”
Hyunjin barely gives a glance before answering.
“They are but wisps in the ocean, nothing to concern yourself with.”
You are unconvinced by his answer but dare not pry more. Instead, you lift yourself up and get as close to the glass as you possibly can to get a better view of the ghostly figure. As you approach the glass, a muted chorus of song can be heard as the figure drifts in and out of view.
“Hyunjin.” you say again, only this time much more stern. When a second figure joins the first and loops in the water, it almost crashes into the glass and your eyes widen in horror. “Is that a woman?”
Hyunjin remains ever silent as your eyes follow the ghostly woman as she sings, her song sending familiar chills down your spine. You turn to him, eyes filled with fear. “What…what is this?”
Hyunjin sighs.
“Sirens,” he says simply as though it were obvious. “They’re Sirens.”
Everything begins to fall into place, the jewels and gems gifted to you, the dresses that were so beautiful…
“Y/n,” Hyunjin is standing now, towering over you with his eyebrows furrowed. “Let me explain.”
You gape at him, words slip from your mind as you try to comprehend the gravity of what he has done.
“You did this?” You can’t hide the disbelief, it encompasses you.
Hyunjin hangs his head in shame, too afraid to look you in the eyes.
“Tell me the truth,” you squeak, beginning to back away slowly.
“They ran from me,” he begins through gritted teeth, “As though I was their worst nightmare incarnate. So I…tore their undeserving beauty from them.”
You cannot believe what you are hearing. “You cursed them?”
He gives a solemn nod.
“They will live a life of eternal yearning; an unquenchable thirst for lust that no one man can ever satisfy. That is what they deserve.”
“Is this the fate that awaits me?” You ask, a lump forming in your throat, “A siren lost to the tides?”
Hyunjin ponders the thought for a moment too long before shaking his head. “You were the first not to run. You are the first I’ve truly felt for.”
Although his plea sounds truthful, you cannot bear to look at him. “You could have let them go,” you say in barely a whisper. “Why didn’t you let them go?”
Hyunjin does not answer, for he cannot.
“I…I would like to leave.”
The silence is deafening. Every minute that passes where Hyunjin does not speak is a minute closer to your demise: you truly fear for your life.
“Then, you may go.”
What?
You almost break your neck to look at him; his eyes are reddened with tears.
“You…you’re serious?” you ask in disbelief.
“If you love someone, you let them go. I cannot keep you here against your will.”
You can feel the pain in his voice, like his heart had been ripped from his chest.
“Then, let me go.”
Briefly, he pauses and you fear that he has reconsidered but the fear is washed away with the tide as he beckons you to follow him. He dares not reach for your hand as he usually would.
The walk to the great hall feels like an eternity, with Hyunjin’s despondency bearing a heavy weight on your soul. Once you arrive, he stands firmly in place and gnaws on his bottom lip.
“I can take you home,” he finally says, “That is what you want, yes?”
The glimmer of hope that you will change your mind still faintly burns so when you nod your head, it crushes him. With a heaving sigh, he reaches around his neck and fiddles with a necklace of some sort before taking your hand in his own and passing it to you.
“Take this. If you ever change your mind, open it and I will find you.”
“A locket?” You say upon closer inspection, the brassy heart is adorned with threads of gold. “But this is precious to you.”
He bows his head, “Look after my heart, won’t you?”
Then, darkness consumes you.
*********
When you awaken, you find yourself somewhere in the sea on a rickety old ship just as before; except this time you’re bed ridden. You have no idea whose ship you’re on or how long you’ve been there, so you arise and make an attempt to seek out someone to explain your situation. As soon as you stand up, a splitting migraine assaults your mind — it’s piercing and you fall back onto the bed. With a hiss of pain, you throw your head back onto the pillow.
Had it been a dream? Surely not.
With haste you reach for the locket Hyunjin had gave you to find it missing. No…it simply couldn’t have been a fever dream — you refuse to believe it.
The sky screams in anguish as rain lashes down on the upper decks and you try to speak to any of the crewmen who are busying themselves with attending to the ship. Not one of them acknowledges you — typical. It’s by chance that you see one of the men dangling a chain from his hand, boasting to a friend that he’d won it in a card game only the day before.
“Excuse me, sir,” your attempt at being courteous is pathetic as your patience wanes, “That necklace belongs to me.“
“Says who?” He snarls, looking you up and down.
“Says me,” you reply haughtily, snatching the necklace from his grubby hands.
As soon as the brass touches your skin, your body is set aflame; memories of Hyunjin wash over you like a tsunami — his touch, his taste, his smell. You’re flooded with emotion, drowning in the sweet sadness that fills your heart and you mourn the spark in the ocean, doused as it ignites.
“Bloody bad luck to have a woman on board,” the thief sailor spits as you loop the locket around your neck, twirling the golden heart in your fingers.
fables of the trickster fae felix have been passed down through countless generations. hair of honey with a smattering of golden freckles, he is easily the most alluring of his kin. curious and playful, he bewitches his victims with eyes of emerald into following him through knotted brambles, deep into the depths of the forest — his giggles echoing amidst the trees. rarely, though, does he show himself, leaving locals wondering if such an elusive creature can really exists. felix relishes in the uncertainty, for it leaves them susceptible to be lulled into his lair. for all the mystery, felix is truly harmless; he simply enjoys to play and with the other feyfolk seemingly lost to time, it’s a rarity that’s hard to come by.
Warnings: swearing, gun shot, panic attack, mention of death, it’s the apocalypse so yea….
Words count:3.1K
Summary:Keeping your heads low, you and Changbin sprinted toward the exit. « Don’t stop running! » he screamed. Your lover gave you a quick glance and you noticed that he was just as terrified as you were. You still could hear the hideous noises coming from the train station, noises you believe you would only hear in horror movies or hell… It was the reality you were in. An apocalyptic one.
A.N:hi! here is a little song rec for this fic: next to you by john vincent III and dance with me by beebadoobee. english isn’t my first language so i apologize for the mistakes. as always, any comments or sharing are always appreciated (´｡• ω •｡`) hope you will enjoy it! - cami, 220220
Your bodies were stuck against each other, people were pushing from every sides, making it difficult to move. Screams and cries could be heard. You could barely see what was going on, too focused on your breath, trying to calm down. Your boyfriend was holding your hand tightly, not wanting to let you go or else it would be almost impossible to find you, lost in that crowd of desperate people. He tip toed, to see if there was any chance for you to jump on the train. Unfortunately more than a hundred of families, elders, kids, and so on were waiting, always pushing and screaming at the station employees.
One of them turned on the megaphone he was holding on his hand. A piercing sound made the crowd silent, every single soul hoping to hear some good news.
« Listen! It’s no use to push! This train only has 280 places… Young kids along with their mothers will go first, please make a line or we will not open the gates! » said the man. The silence became thicker. You knew what it meant, you and Changbin didn’t have a single chance… Too many people were standing in front of you to even try to sneak on the steel machine. Your throat became drier, if it was even possible. Your mind was becoming empty, just looking at the grey ground, where all of you were just like those insects, crawling.
« What about us then ? We don’t get a chance to live ? Don’t you have other trains ? » a sudden yell of a middle-aged man broke the silence. Whispers started to grow louder. Two days ago, an official statement of the government was broadcasted on national tv. Some bunkers were available but, obviously, the amount of places was limited and far too small for the thousands of people of each cities and neighbors. A total of ten bunkers were listed, eight could welcome five thousands people and the two others had a capacity of ten thousands. Not even all the kids would be able to go in there… And then there was the rich ones, politicians, high graded soldiers getting a vip tickets for those concrete fortresses. This was the kind of society you were living in.
The same employee turned on the megaphone again.
« We hear your pleadings but… » his voice started to crack, his knuckles were so white that we could wonder if blood was still running through his veins. « It’s the last train which will depart from this city. »
You knew it. You and Changbin had to try even if you knew it was a lost cause. He looked at you, his jaw clenched, his eyes full of despair. Seeing your own reflection into his deep brown eyes, your expression was mirroring his.
The crowd was now rumbling. More yells and protests started to burst, people were pushing harder, trying to make the barriers fall. Your bodies were compressed to the point you thought your ribcage was about to break. This meant nothing good and the situation was too tensed.
« We have to go back, now » urged your lover. You nodded, unable to make a single sound. Intertwining your fingers to make your grip stronger, you turned around, trying to reach the station exit. You were moving forward slowly but it wasn’t as difficult as you thought it would, people were too greedy to steal your spot to not let you pass. You heard the sound of some metal falling on the ground. The barriers were down.
BANG! BANG!
« What the fuck! ». Swearing, Changbin immediately put a hand over your head, making you bow to avoid the gun shots you just heard. Your ears were ringing, your hands shaking uncontrollably as your breath was becoming erratic. « Shhh, I’m here babe, I’m here… » said the black haired boy, trying to soothe you. You were still walking, almost crouching, toward the exit. You could see the doors opened right in front of you, few people separating you from your escape.
After a few seconds, a different voice was heard through the speaker. A soldier warning the crowd to make a line or more people would be endangered despite their ages. It didn’t help, it was just adding some fuel to the fire.
For the next minutes, only your instincts guided you. The gun shots were incessant, babies and kids were screaming, crying, along with adults.
« Y/N! Run! »
Keeping your heads low, you and Changbin sprinted to the exit. « Don’t stop running! » he screamed. Your lover gave you a quick glance and you noticed that he was just as terrified as you were. You still could hear the hideous noises coming from the train station, noises you believe you would only hear in horror movies or hell… It was the reality you were in. An apocalyptic one.
Weaving on the empty streets, the sounds of your footsteps were echoing against the gigantic skyscrapers and buildings. Your lungs were burning and that’s when you come to a halt to your runaway. You were far enough to be safe now. Changbin immediately stopped. You let go his hand, putting both of yours on your knees to catch your breath and support yourself from falling. The boy looked at you, he could feel tears threatening to fall any time, but he needed to hold them back a bit longer. For you. For him. Fuck. What you both just witnessed was terrible. A shooting. It was human’s true nature, uh ? And it was probably your last day in that sick world. At this thought, Changbin had to bite his lips harshly to not break into tears. You still hadn’t move from your hunched position. Coming closer, he put his warm hands on your cheeks. He felt the wetness of them as you were silently crying.
« Look at me… Baby. Please ». You didn’t want him to see how broken you were. You knew he felt the same but tried his best not to show it. That’s how he was, thinking about the ones he loves first, being so selfless. Complying to his request, you faced him. His chin was trembling, his eyes were full of panic as he was trying to keep his composure.
« We will stay together ok ? No matter what. I will never leave you behind. »
« I know Changbin, I know » you wrapped your arms around his torso as he gave you a peck on your forehead. You stayed in each others arms for a few minutes before he took your hand in his.
« We should get going. Let’s find some water and food first. »
You nodded, following your boyfriend.
The silence on the streets was burdensome. You could hear some things falling on the concrete sometimes, some tv running in abandoned houses. Birds weren’t chirping anymore. They flew away a while ago, even before scientists knew that an enormous comet was about to fall on earth and destroy almost every lives on it. Where would you ask ? You didn’t know. Animals had this survival instinct humans barely had. They would probably find the safest place if there was one.
Around a corner, you found a small grocery store. Your race had made you thirsty and water was very much needed. The dark haired boy looked through the glass of the window. There was not a single soul in sight. He gestured you to come with him, pushed the door, a bell sound welcoming you.
« Hello ? » he asked, scanning the surroundings. No answer.
« Ok, I will go grab a bag and take some supplies to spend the day. You get the water, seems good for you ? ».
« Yea, no problem, I will be right there » you said, pointing at the drinks area. He gave you a small smile that you returned and turned around. There wasn’t a lot of bottles left. After the announcement, people rushed to get some stock of food and water, in hope of surviving. You kneeled down to get a bottle stored at the end of the rack. As your fingertips were skimming over the bottle cap, you felt something hard against the back of your head.
« Don’t move ». A man was standing behind you. Your heart started to beat faster. Was this a damn joke ? You escaped a place just to get in an other ambush. Putting your hands in the air, you tried to face the man, but he pushed the thing harder on your head.
« I said don’t move! » he yelled. You heard some steps rushing in your direction.
« He has a weapon! » you warned. The steps stopped before starting again, slower this time.
« What ? You’re with someone ? » the guy seemed more and more panicked. Just a wrong move on the trigger and you would be dead.
« Come on mate, let her go ». Your lover was here. You could only see his shadow on the floor. Looked like his hands were up as well. The tip of the gun finally moved. The stranger didn’t know where to point it at. Changbin continued.
« We just want some food and water for the day… It’s not as if it was the end of the world, right ? » he scoffed at his own sarcastic joke. Apparently, he was the only one to. You finally managed to turn around and see what was going on.
The man was probably in his forties, holding a shotgun in his hands, aiming at your significant other. They were looking intensely at each other, when the man finally dropped his weapon. He let himself fall on the ground, sobbing.
« Y-you right… We’re going to d-d-… » the word couldn’t even go through his lips. Grabbing his scalp, his breath loud and quick. He was probably having a panic attack. Who could blame him ?
Taking advantage of the weak state of the stranger, Changbin helped you to get on your feet, the water bottles secured into your arms.
« We’re leaving now. Take care of you man. » you both waited for a second, to ensure your security, before going out. Your pace quickly sped up. Your boyfriend tripped over some garbage on the ground, losing his balance before you caught his forearm.
« You ok ? » you asked, eyes looking every inch of his body to know if he was hurt.
« I am, don’t worry, just keep going » he spat, worried about the possibility of the shop owner loosing his damn mind. For what seemed to be the nth time of the day, here you were, running.
Bang!
The sound was distant but you know what it meant. You looked at Changbin who simply replied that you couldn’t have saved him. Nobody could. Humanity was doomed.
Roaming around the road, few cars were abandoned, most people took theirs to try to reach the cities owning a bunker as soon as possible. Your significant other saw a possibility for you to, maybe, have one last car trip. He tried to open the car doors. Some were locked, some opened but no keys on it. When finally he found one.
« Y/N look! », for the first time of the day he seemed excited. He put the backpack you got at the grocery store on the ground, took place on the driver seat and turned on the engine, pushing on the accelerator with one of his feet. The motor was making some strange sounds.
« Come on » he mumbled. A low sound, which sounded like victory, could be heard. « Yes! » he jumped out of the car to throw his bag on the back seats. His sudden serotonin burst was pretty contagious and you couldn’t help but laugh at the scene. He sped up to open the car door for you.
« Mademoiselle » he said while bowing reverently. You thanked him, giggling. Where did he learn that word ? It didn’t matter honestly. As long as you were together, nothing mattered.
« Babe, why don’t we go to our favorite place ? It might be the last time we see it. » offered the black haired boy, a sour taste lacing the joyful tone of his voice.
« It’s one and half an hour from here though». Would you make it one time ? Wasn’t it more reasonable to just found a nice place around here, to enjoy your last day ? Because it surely was the last. Trying to reach one of the bunkers was out of option, too far away and, seen what happened at the train station, too dangerous.
« Yes, when we respect speed limits » he answered with a smirk. Changbin wanted both of you to enjoy this time to the fullest. You returned his smile and buckled your seatbelt.
The road was desert. Indeed, it was easier to not respect the speed limits. You had turned on the car radio, singing all the songs you knew, screaming through the opened windows. It felt like freedom. However, the song was cut short as you heard the government official sound resonating. Your smiles faded away in a blink of an eye, catching all of your attention.
« Dear inhabitants of XXXX, nine out of the ten available bunkers are now full. »
« Already ? » you thought out loud, astonished by how fast it was. You glimpsed at your lover. His grip on the steering wheel was firm, his knuckles white, jaw clenched as his gaze was focused on the road unveiling in front of his eyes. Your heart broke at the sight of it. You put what you hoped to be a comforting hand on the back of his head, caressing his hair lovingly. He gave in into your touch, taking a deep breath as the politician’s speech was still going on.
« According to the scientist, the comet’s impact should happen- ». Before you could hear anything else, Changbin turned the radio off. The mood became gloomy.
Resting your head on his shoulder, you were thinking about everything you did together. All the good and bad times, those memories engraved in your soul so deeply that you could never forget them.
« Remember that time I broke your computer and tried to fix it ? » you asked him.
« Uh ? Why suddenly ? ». He seemed confused by your question.
« I thought you would be furious. I saw your face turning white when I showed it to you but you didn’t yell at me. You just said that it was too old anyway and wanted to buy a new one. You always put the others’ happiness before your own. I wanted to thank you for that. »
Your words were sincere, he could feel it. He took one of your hand in his and gave a gentle kiss to it.
« It’s better to enjoy the time we have with our loved ones rather than fighting over small and useless things , right ? » he whispered in a deep voice. You nodded, tightening your grip on his hand.
The trees siding the road were becoming sparse. At the horizon, you could now see it. The deep blue of the sea spreading far, far away until it became one with the sky. You and Changbin loved to come here. This place was full of memories and the only one able to soothe your wounded and desperate hearts.
It only took you fifty minutes to get there and you were glad you accepted to come here. He parked the car. You stay in for a moment, staring at the sea. Your boyfriend was the first one to go out, stretching his sore body. Joining him, you also grabbed the food and drinks in the backpack.
« Let’s eat, shall we ? » you asked, softly smiling. He agreed. You both sat on the sand, eating in silence, unable to truly enjoy your last dish. The little happiness you had before was now gone.
« I should have propose to you » he blurted out. You almost choked at his declaration. He kept going.
« I wish I had seen you wearing a beautiful wedding gown, seen you carrying our babies, seen you aging by my side. I wanted it all. » his voice cracked. Gathering all the strength you had, you answered him.
« You would have been a wonderful husband and father, Seo Changbin. »
He looked at you, his eyes filled with tears. It was hard to swallow, your throat so tight that you wondered how you could even breath.
« I love you Y/N and I will love you in our next live, and the next ones. Always. »
You half laughed, half sobbed. « I love you too, I will love you till death do us apart ».
He cupped your face and crashed his lips on yours. The kiss was full of passion and distress. You could feel a salty taste on your tongue. His tears or yours ? Probably both. You stopped to catch your breath, noses brushing against each others. His eyes were red, lost, helpless. You stood up, giving him a hand to join you. He grabbed it and put the other one on your waist. Wrapping your arms around his neck, you started slow dancing to an inexistent music, kissing softly in between your sobs. Murmuring some « I love you » and « I will always be with you ».
While you were dancing, the twilight started covering the world of its dark blue coat. Stars shining like little diamonds. As the universe was watching you, you kept talking about your good memories, holding hands, hugging each other. It was unfair. You didn’t deserve this. However, it couldn’t be helped.
This is when you saw it. The comet. A white bright line tearing the sky into two distinct parts. It was far bigger than a simple shooting star. You could see the rocky aspect of it. You were both hypnotized by it, like moths being attracted by the street lights. At this moment, you could tell that there was some beauty in death. Coming back to your senses, as if time had stopped for a minute, you both jumped into each other arms, holding yourselves with such strength that you thought your bodies were about to make one.
A thud echoing from afar. Air started to vibrate.
« Changbin! » you squeaked. He knew. He had known what was going to happen for days but still hoped you could have a chance to survive. He could see his reflection in your eyes. Tears falling uncontrollably as he was trying to memorize every single one of your face feature. His hands were shaking.
A jolt made you loose your balance, almost making you fall on your knees. One last hug. One last « I love you ».
« Let’s meet again, my love » he whispered with a faint smile.
