request: “Maybe you could do another one for Bang Chan? Something with friends to lovers and "I can treat you better, just let me”? You can change the phrase if you need to!“
a/n: i think i got carried away with this one bc of how much i enjoyed writing it lol. i hope this is close enough to what you wanted and that you enjoy it!
feedback is deeply appreciated!!
Oh my, you did it again
Thank you so much for fulfilling my request, dear! It came out beautifully
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.
Being in a pack is basically the antonym for jealousy right? You all share each other, with each other, all the time. Wolves are possessive, but they’re not prone to jealousy, of all things. Humans, on the other hand. Well. That’s a different story altogether.
Tags: SKZ, SKZ!pack, stray kids, ot8, ot8 x you, ot8 x reader, SKZ x you, SKZ x reader, ABO, A/B/O, Alpha Beta Omega dynamics, bang chan, seo changbin, lee minho, hwang hyunjin, lee felix, han jisung, yang jeongin, kim seungmin
Genre: Fluff, Light Smut
Title: Jealousy, Jealousy
You’re not a jealous person. You’re not.
But watching the pretty, little omega flirt with Minho across the bar has something heavy and sour settling into the pit of your stomach against the ominous growling emanating from your suddenly engaged wolf.
Minho isn’t flirting back of course, simply offering half a smile in response to her animated words, and in fact, you know him so well you’d say he almost looks bored, glancing past the omega to your waiting drinks
The knowledge does nothing to quell the sudden pang of jealousy eating you up from the inside out.
She laughs, you catch the tinkling high sound over the bustle of the other patrons, and then her hand is touching his arm as she leans in, looking up at him as if he’s said something extremely funny.
You know that move. It’s the oldest one in the book.
You’re out of your seat before you can think.
The omega looks caught off guard, kohl lined eyes going wide, lips parting, as you appear at Minho’s side, hand going down on his arm where hers had just been moments before, as if to wipe away the trace of her.
You see the moment she catches a whiff of your scent-cold and floral-her wolf perking its ears in interest.
Alpha.
She suddenly looks smug, pleased with herself, as if you and Minho are going to fight for her attention, two alphas at her disposal.
You don’t even spare her a second glance.
“Minho.” You say sharply beneath your breath and the other alpha glances at you curiously, one perfectly manicured brow raised. You tilt your chin toward the door. “Can we go? Please?”
The omega visibly wilts.
Minho, on the other hand, looks entirely too satisfied as you shift uncomfortably beside him, fingers still curled around his arm.
He’s figured it out.
Thankfully, he doesn’t point it out, instead, patting the back of your hand where it rests on his arm-a little bit sweet, a whole lot sarcastic-and offers you a smile bordering too close to a knowing smirk, eyes sparkling with hidden mirth.
“Of course, sweetheart. Let me just say goodbye to my friendhere-”
You don’t miss the teasing, taunting lilt to his words, and your wolf growls in response.
Your fingers flinch into his skin and Minho glances down to where your hand has now turned into a claw, digging into his forearm.
The smirk has yet to leave his face.
“Or not.”
You hate that he’s seen right through you, know the ride home is going to be living hell, that he won’t let you live this down easily-it’s Minho for god’s sake-but he also doesn’t give the omega a goodbye, let alone another glance, and so maybe, just maybe, the inevitable hassling will have been worth it.
Besides, you learned long ago that when it comes to Lee Minho, you have to take the small victories where you can get them.
******
“I swear, this should be classified as cruel and unusual punishment.” Jisung groans, sitting next to you at the kitchen table, pausing in his chopping to complain to whoever will listen.
You note offhandedly that while your pile of chopped vegetables has grown significantly, Jisung’s is still miniscule in comparison.
“My hand is cramping.” The beta whines, as if none of you heard him the first time, stretching his fingers for maximum effectiveness.
“Yah. Han Jisung.” Minho turns from the stove and holds his dirty spatula menacingly above the suffering beta’s head, a dark glower on his pretty features. “If those vegetables aren’t minced by the time I need them in five minutes, then it’ll be your head on the chopping block next.”
“Hyung.” Jisung whines, widening his eyes pleadingly, but Minho gives him no sympathy, expression steely, before he turns back to the bubbling pot on the stove.
Jisung huffs and glances toward the hall, where Chan has appeared, keys in hand. The beta brightens immediately upon seeing another potential victim for his cause.
“Hyung.” The beta whines, long and low in his throat, and Chan pauses in his route to the door, head alpha raising its head at one of his packmate’s obvious distress.
However, he takes one look at Minho, standing menacingly behind the whimpering Jisung with a spatula, and grimaces, offering said beta a sympathetic look.
“Sorry, Jisungie. Gotta go to the studio.”
Chan disappears a little too eagerly as the sound of a door slams down the hall and Jisung rolls his eyes, resuming his chopping with a grumble and a long sigh of “coward” beneath his breath, which you can only guess is aimed toward a certain head alpha.
It’s silent for a moment, the sound of chopping rhythmic and lulling, the pot bubbling merrily on the stove, Minho singing something low and indistinct beneath his breath.
Changbin appears, standing in the doorway to the kitchen, looking as if he’s just come from the gym, and the smell of ash mixed with sweat is suddenly strong as he regards the three of you sagely.
“What’re you making? And how’d you get Jisung to help?” He asks, eyebrow raised, addressing Minho, as he nods toward the still pouting Jisung sitting at the table, dutifully chopping a carrot.
“He threatened him.” You reply back, reaching for another potato, as Jisung shoots you a dark glare, taking way too long to matchstick a piece of celery.
“Ah.” Changbin nods like he gets it, amusement clear on his face.
“Yah. Seo Changbin.” Minho turns his frown on the newly arrived alpha now, and Jisung looks as if Christmas has come early. “Are you going to eat what I make tonight or what?”
Changbin has the decency to look slightly regretful, reaching up to rub at the back of his neck as he suddenly avoids the other alpha’s pointed gaze.
“Sorry, hyung. I gotta stick with shakes. New regiment and shit.”
You and Jisung both groan simultaneously at that, and Changbin looks caught off guard by your reactions, eyebrows disappearing into his hairline.
“God, please don’t tell me you’re gonna put chicken in it again, hyung.” Jisung exclaims, sinking back in his chair and eyeing Changbin like he’s just grown another head, lips pulled down in obvious disgust. “Anything but that.”
“I’m like 96% sure Jackson was joking when he told you that, by the way.” You add, making a face, as you think about Changbin and the slop he and his workout buddies call smoothies.
“Hey.” Changbin protests, waving between the two of you. “Don’t knock it till you try it.”
More echoed groans, and Changbin looks suitably offended.
Jisung gets up from his spot at the table and crosses the kitchen, dumping his vegetables-finally chopped-into the pot that Minho is still carefully stirring. He leans over, putting the sharp jut of his chin on Minho’s shoulder, and instantly pulls a face.
Minho shoots him a glance, expression blank.
“God, hyung, you smell weird.” Jisung takes another long sniff and covers his nose dramatically, stepping away from the alpha, miming retching as he returns to the table to plop back down beside you. “Did you get a new cologne or something?”
“Probably smells like the friendhe made at the bar.” You can’t help but grumble beneath your breath, the poor potato you’re chopping into bite size chunks taking the brunt of your sudden aggression.
Your knife hits a sharp staccato against the cutting board.
“What was that, sweetheart?” Minho turns from the stove, one brow raised in challenge, clearly having heard what you said, giving you another chance to reconsider what you’d said.
You offer him a saccharine, innocent smile, so sweet you feel like your teeth are rotting.
“Nothing.”
Minho hums under his breath approvingly and nods and with one last, long look, returns to the stove, the air suddenly saturated with the sharp spice of amber.
Beneath your knife, the potato splinters into mush.
*****
“Okay, hyung, truth or dare?”
You’re sitting in the living room, the movie playing quietly in the background long since forgotten, when Jeongin turns to Minho, eyes wide and expectant.
Minho rolls his eyes. “Are we in fourth grade? Why do we have to play this?”
“Just answer the question.” You shoot back, matching Minho’s glare as he finally gives in and waves for the youngest omega to continue.
You’re still slightly on edge from earlier, but being surrounded by the smell of oranges as Felix cuddles back against you, sitting entwined on the couch, is helping some.
You reach up and idly run your fingers through the omega’s soft, blonde hair, holding back an affectionate smile as he arches into the touch of your hand like a needy cat.
“Fine. Truth.” “Boooooring.” Jisung calls out from across the room, not looking up from the game he’s playing on his handheld, Hyunjin eagerly watching over his shoulder.
“Okay. Truth.” Jeongin repeats with a wicked glint in his eye, rubbing his hands together, as if he’s prepared to completely reveal all the truths that make up the enigma that is Minho with just one question.
Minho takes a long sip of his soda as if he doesn’t have a care in the world.
“Whose scent, out of all of us, do you like the most?”
Minho returns the can to the coffee table and sits back, looking completely at ease.
“Easy. Felix.”
Felix grins and blushes in your arms. “Ah, thanks, hyung, that’s really sweet.”
Jisung, however, chokes on his spit from across the room and levels Minho with a shocked look so convincing that you almost believe he’s hurt.
“Yah, what about me?”
Minho smirks. “What about you?”
Jisung mutters something under his breath that sounds an awful lot like cursing Minho’s name and his entire existence, and Hyunjin pats him sympathetically on the head as he sinks back into the end of the couch.
The game goes on like that for a while, a lazy back and forth between your packmates, the room a combined, comforting cocktail of everyone’s scents, making you sleepy, and your eyes are heavy, and you’re almost ready to call it a night, Felix warm and heavy in your arms and practically asleep himself, when Minho drops the bomb.
“(Y/N).”
You glance up at the other alpha, and the mischievous, wicked glint in his dark eyes puts you instantly on edge, hackles rising.
“Truth or dare?”
You’re way too tired to entertain even the thought of a dare, so you answer back immediately, “Truth.”
Minho grins, teeth and expression suddenly sharp, and dammit, you realize too late that you’ve fallen right into his trap.
“Would you say that you’re the jealous type?”
You refuse to play his game.
Keeping your expression blank, you reply simply, “No.”
Minho arches a brow, and his lips part, and he’s so smug you wanna wipe the smirk right off his pretty face.
“Really?” He hums beneath his breath, faking a thoughtful expression, eyes never leaving your own. “Would you care to explain to me what happened earlier then? In the bar? When I was making new ‘friends’?”
The use of your earlier word, confirming your suspicions that he’d heard exactly what you’d said in the kitchen, has you pushing a caught off guard, sleepy Felix into Changbin’s arms and standing up, expression carefully schooled.
“I’m going to bed.”
The air is so heavy with the scent of frost now, you’re surprised you can’t see the cloud of your own breath.
Minho catches up to you in the hallway.
The smell of sharp amber gives him away just before his fingers loop around your wrist, spinning you smoothly to face him, your back slamming up against the closed door of your room as his hands go on either side of your head, effectively caging you in.
So close to safety, yet so far.
“What was that, hm?” He questions in a low voice, head cocked, irises swirling, the expression on his face telling you he already clearly knows exactly ‘what that was.’
“I don’t like being the butt of your jokes, Minho.” You hiss out, staring him down, fingers digging into your crossed forearms in an attempt to remain in some semblance of control.
“I’m afraid I don’t know what joke you’re referring to, sweetheart.”
Your wolf snarls, insistent he’s still making a fool of you, and the frost creeps back in, chilling the air around the two of you.
“Please.” You scoff out, trying to cover up the hurt with anger now, your voice wavering slightly. “Don’t play stupid. You knew what you were doing when you asked that question back there.”
Minho’s brow arches, and his lips quirk slightly, his obvious nonchalance only serving to infuriate you more.
“And what exactly was I doing?”
You look away from him now, because you can feel the tears burning, threatening, and you don’t want him to see you cry.
Damn being an angry crier. Damn it all.
“Making fun of me.” You mutter bitterly, lower lip clenched firmly between your teeth, the scent of amber souring slightly now where it brushes your skin. “Because I got all weird at the bar seeing you with that strange omega and then you-”
Minho leans into your space suddenly, catching you off guard and effectively shutting you up, and you’re surprised, when you look up, to see the sudden, swirling gold creeping into his gaze.
“Sweetheart, sweetheart, sweetheart.” He practically tsks, and you feel like you’re a kid who’s gotten caught with their hand in the candy jar.
Minho sighs, a long suffering sound, and you almost expect him to pinch his nose between his fingers in a show of frustration.
Instead, he leans closer, so that his lips are practically brushing yours with each word he speaks, and a crooked smirk lifts the corners of his mouth, revealing sharp, pointed canines that have your gut clenching up in sudden need.
“I wasn’t joking. About you or anything else.” He practically purrs, letting one of his hands slide off the door and down the column of your throat, fingers splayed against your collarbone like a choker, finger tips barely tracing your scent glands.
He looks entirely too pleased when your breath audibly catches in your throat.
“Then why did you bring it up?” You question, slightly breathless, and curse your body for betraying how attracted you are to Minho in this moment.
God, he’s pretty.
Minho chuckles, a low rumble in his chest accompanied by a fresh wave of spice, and the sound sends warmth flooding through your traitorous body to all the right places.
He tilts his head, studying you heatedly with a molten copper gaze.
“Because, sweetheart,” His full lips quirk into the hint of a self deprecating smile.“As much as I hate to admit it, I guess I find it practically intoxicatingwhen I’m the reason you struggle with your composure.”
Your mouth drops open, and Minho closes it again with one slender finger under your chin.
You have to remind yourself to breathe.
“So you get off on seeing me a mess.”
Minho chuckles again at your blunt words and raises a brow, wetting his lips as his tongue darts out to slowly trace over the outline of his plump mouth, watching the way you follow the motion, teasing you.
“Basically, yeah.”
“God, I hate you.” You breathe out, not meaning it in the slightest, as you tug him to you and slot your mouth with his.
“I really don’t think you do.” Minho murmurs back in between frantic kisses, his fingers tangling into your hair and tugging your head back, angling your lips for better access.
“Shut up.”
You waste no time in slipping your tongue into his mouth and your fingers curl into the material of the hoodie he wears, the air practically heavy now with the mixed smell of your scents.
It’s easy to blindly reach behind you and turn the door knob, letting you both into the dark, quiet of your room, easy to stumble backward toward the waiting bed, fingers still tangled in the front of Minho’s sweatshirt, easy to strip him in the pitch black, fumbling with layers of clothes, hands tracing the lithe, toned lines of his body, skin warm beneath your fingertips.
Minho takes his time, it’s something you’ve always admired about him, the attention to detail he uses when slowly but surely taking you apart, piece by piece, inch by inch.
“What do you want, hm?” He whispers against the column of your throat, nips with his teeth, traces deliberate fingers over your aching scent gland, revels in the way you arch up into him. “Tell me, sweetheart.”
It’s an easy enough question, with an obvious enough answer.
“Make me a mess.”
Minho grins, all sharp angles and white teeth and golden irises, and rolls his hips against your own, and you know he’s got you right where he wants you, knows in the way your fingers tremble as they tangle into his hair, in the way the scent of wisteria spikes, tangling with the sharp notes of amber.
Minho leans in, taking in the way you’re panting, squirming beneath him, practically begging him silently, and raises a brow, before nipping lightly along your mating mark as if it’s a promise of things to come.
As a child, you’d only heard mere stories of the “Red String of Fate” from the mouths of your parents and grandparents. When you were younger, you took it a little too seriously; you always blabbered about it in your elementary classes and usually got in trouble for it. As you got older, of course, you dropped the subject, not believing in the soulmate nonsense anymore. But it was something you never really forgot, something that lingered in the back of your mind as nothing but a fragment of your childhood. Little did you know how real it truly was.
It was a normal day to your eighteen-year-old self. You sat in your parent’s bakery at the counter, your chin in your palm with your elbow propped up on the counter. The apron you wore (by force, of course) covered your knees as you spun on the stool you sat on. Heaving a sigh, you picked up your phone and scrolled through your Instagram feed. Your eyes shot up when you heard the bell on the door ding, and you made eye contact with a cute, shy-looking boy who seemed around your age. He walked closer and looked at the pastries on display as you shot him a small smile, putting your phone down. Your spinning came to a stop, leaving you to politely face him.
“Hi,” You said, gaining his attention, “Just let me know when you’re ready to order. We also sell coffee and tea, for here or to go.”
“Ah,” He flashed you a smile, “Thank you.”
You nodded in response and turned your attention to the cash register, staring at it and daydreaming. You didn’t really want to get on your phone while a customer was in the room.
After a few more seconds, he approached the counter, making you look at him with a polite smile. His lips raised to mirror your own before he spoke, “Can I have a walnut pie and a small cup of coffee for here, please?”
You nodded as you jotted his order down on your handy notepad, “Want creamer and sugar?”
“Ah, yes, please,” Came his response. His voice was smooth and melodic, you noticed, it wouldn’t surprise you if he were a vocalist.
“All right,” You chimed, “It’ll be ready soon. And what’s your name?”
“Jeongin,” He replied, taking the time to look around again.
“Got it,” You nodded before hopping off your stool and gathering his order. While pouring the coffee into his mug, you heard the bell go off again and looked over before realizing it was just Chan – he was a usual. A busy college student, but your friend nonetheless. He came by for a quick to-go coffee and left almost daily. You also took note of the time – late evening, your brother should come in for your shift soon.
Finishing Jeongin’s order, you made Chan’s coffee without asking and slid it across the counter, earning his signature grin, “Why, thank you, Muffin.”
You rolled your eyes and chuckled, “Stop calling me Muffin. Just because I work at a bakery doesn’t mean I’m a muffin.”
“Yes it does,” The older responded simply, sliding you the payment for the coffee across the counter. You took the money and put it in the register, shaking your head, “Don’t you have that thesis due tomorrow?”
“Don’t you dare remind me,” Chan groaned before sending you a quick wave, taking his coffee, and leaving. You chuckled but waved Jeongin over. The boy stumbled to stand quickly and rush over, taking his order and giving you a quick thanks, then proceeding to go back to his booth and taking out a laptop. At first, you thought he was lonely, but now you understood he probably just came here to get some schoolwork done in the peace and quiet. You’d bet he knew Seungmin, who told him to go to the little cafe you worked at. You shook your head at the thought as you sat back down at your stool. Seungmin was a good friend of yours, although you went to different schools because you lived on the border of the district, you still saw each other often. Then, he graduated and went onto college almost immediately. You, on the other hand, wanted to wait until you were nineteen or twenty to go to college. You wanted a bit of a break. He, too, liked to study and work at the cafe.
You fixed your posture and smiled as another customer came in.
* * *
You found that your worthless brother never came in for his shift, of course. Jeongin stayed working until it was nearly closing time. You heaved a sigh as you were wiping down one of the tables, looking over at the boy. He was just as focussed on his work as he’d been for the past few hours. It made you wonder just how on Earth he could work for so long, assuming he was working, anyway. He had papers skewed on the table in front of him and he stared almost angrily at the screen.
You gingerly tapped his shoulder, making him jump slightly and turn to look at you. Offering a small smile, you explained, “We’re closing soon. Would you like a coffee to go?”
“O- Oh!” He stammered, looking around as he scratched the back of his neck, “I didn’t even notice. But uh, no thanks on the coffee.”
Chuckling, you nodded and took his mug to the back to clean it. You heard him shuffling to get his things together and leave. What you didn’t expect was being suddenly tugged back by some force on your wrist. With a small grunt, you looked down to see that there was a thin red string around your wrist. "What the hell?“ You muttered, tugging on it experimentally. The string was around your wrist, and it lead all the way out the door into the main area. It was attached to something else.
You heard some distressed noises coming from the main area, which sounded strangely like Jeongin. Setting the mug on the counter near you, you padded out from the back to see what you were connected to and what Jeongin’s problem was.
Your eyes became the size of plates as you realized that he, too, had a red string around his wrist that was connected to your own.
"What is this?” You muttered, walking over to him. The boy’s scrutiny followed the rose-coloured fabric to see the link between the two of you. Before your very eyes, the string shortened until it was about two metres long. The both of you gaped at each other as cars passed the quiet cafe, their headlights shining into the windows as they went by.
* * *
After getting over the initial shock, you ended up taking Jeongin to your apartment. You couldn’t walk away from each other and there was no way you could stay in his college dorm. The two of you sat and decided to get to know each other, or at least the basics of each other’s character.
You didn’t know how long you’d be mysteriously attached.
You learned that it was his first year of college and he was older than you, though not by too much. He was a business major since it was a large topic that could be used for several different jobs. You were right to assume he was a vocalist, because he was. He loved to sing and even had a dream of becoming an idol. You found this all to be intriguing, you figured you wouldn’t mind his company.
“What about you?” He said suddenly, leaning over his arms on the table, “Tell me about yourself.”
You let a small smile grace your lips as you hummed, thinking. “Well,” You started, “I’m eighteen, and I plan to go to college next year. I work in the cafe because my family owns it, though I do most of the work, to be honest with you.”
“That’s weird,” Jeongin commented, “You just graduated and they’re making you do all the work? Plus, you moved out really early.”
You raised your shoulders in a shrug, “I have an older brother, but he barely ever shows up for work. To be fair, my parents pay me extra for the overtime my brother causes me.”
The conversation continued, you couldn’t pay attention to how long it’d been. Talking to Jeongin was strange because although you’d only known him for a few hours, you felt as though you’d known him for years. You were comfortable with him.
You soon moved to the topic of the string around your wrist, slightly begrudgingly. You didn’t want things to suddenly turn awkward because of what you thought was a myth.
The two of you were still calming from laughing over a story Jeongin told about his childhood. You sighed and gave him an apologetic look, “So, this string.”
The boy hummed, nodding, “Do you have any idea of what it is or what it could mean?”
“Well,” You chuckled nervously, “As a child, my family used to ramble about some red string that connected two people. Those two people would be destined to fall in love.”
Your guest hummed as he took in the information, his fingers drumming on the table, “So they’re… Soulmates?”
“Exactly.” You nodded, “But the problem is that in those stories, the string is invisible to the human eye. So I wouldn’t rely on it.”
Jeongin was quick to speak, “I heard those stories as well. But I heard an added detail; sometimes the string malfunctions, and you can actually see it when that happens. It disappears again during the next full moon.”
You massaged your temples at his remark. Those stories were myths. But then what would explain the string tied to the two of you? Were you really soulmates?
“Okay,” You said slowly, “Are you okay with staying here for the time being?”
“Yeah, it’s easiest. I have classes during the week, though..” He responded, trailing off nervously.
Smiling and standing, you shook your head as Jeongin hopped up as well, “I can take off of work to follow you around if I have to. I’m sure we can prove to your professors that I have to be there if they ask. Come on, it’s late and I have an air mattress you can sleep on.”
The older nodded and eagerly followed you into your bedroom and closet. Together, you lugged the air mattress out and set it next to your bed. Jeongin plugged it in and turned it on, letting it fill with air, as you pulled some blankets and pillows out for him and threw them on the mattress.
After struggling to do both of your nightly routines, you got yourselves sorted and said your goodnights.
* * *
The first night was rough because neither one of you could sleep. You were in shock still, and Jeongin was in a place he wasn’t used to, plus the shock. You were both lucky it was Friday. Morning came and went. You and Jeongin took turns showering, the other having to sit outside the door. It was slightly uncomfortable, you have to admit. It felt like you were hovering over each other’s shoulders all the time. You weren’t sure you were too fond of it.
As Jeongin was drying, you took out your phone to see when the next full moon would be. It was roughly a week away, exactly nine days. You could handle that… Right?
* * *
Later on, the same day, you were perched on your couch – with Jeongin, of course – reading a book. The boy next to you flipped through the TV channels aimlessly, dressed in some of the bigger, more comfy clothes you kept around the apartment. You made sure the articles of clothing you’d given him were your brother’s hand-me-downs. It was nothing special, a pair of grey sweatpants and a black t-shirt. You were in similar attire; your own pair of sweats adorned your legs and a large white Puma hoodie covered your torso.
The sound of Jeongin heaving a sigh filled your ears and you turned your head to look at him. “There’s nothing good on,” He whined, tossing the remote aside after landing on some nature documentary about owls. “What’s your book about?” He asked curiously before you could respond, peeping over your shoulder. You chuckled at him and stuck your thumb on the page you were on before halfway closing the book to show him the cover.
“It’s a romantic novel,” You responded, watching him gawk over the well-designed cover, “It’s about the human race hundreds of years in the future. They live in space shuttles and ships because the Earth has undergone another ice age. A girl goes to another ship for a job and ends up falling in love with the captain, who is really strange and mysterious. It’s pretty good.”
“Woahhh,” Was apparently the only thing the older could muster as he gazed at the book, then back at you. “Are you enjoying it?”
You nodded quickly, letting a wide smile grace your face as you couldn’t help but geek out a little bit, “Yes! The characters are so well portrayed and the plot just sucks you in-”
Jeongin stopped listening, honestly. Because all he could focus on was the smile on your face and the twinkle in your eyes as you blabbered about the book you’d been reading.
How cute.
* * *
Later that day, the two of you decided to go to Jeongin’s dorm to move some of his clothes. He would be involuntarily staying with you for a week, after all. So you grabbed one of your duffel bags and hopped in the car to drive him to the college he was attending.
Upon exiting the car (both of you had to climb out of the passenger side), you realized it would probably be awkward to go into the boys’ dorm with him. You were a woman, after all, and the two of you were bound by a red string. Could others even see the string as you could? You weren’t sure.
That being said, you let the crisp autumn air envelope your skin as you stepped out of the car, the wind blowing your hair into your face. Fixing the beanie on your head, you gave Jeongin a small smile as you began to follow him towards the building. The boy gave a small chuckle, “Don’t worry, (Y/N). We won’t be here long.”
A light pink dusted your cheeks. “You could tell?” You let out a sheepish chuckle, “Am I that obvious? This is going to be so awkward.”
“Nah,” The older responded as he held the door to the main lobby open for you, “It’s okay. I have a room to myself, anyway.”
You slipped into the dorm building with a small thanks, relishing in the warmth it offered. “Really?” You looked at him from the corner of your eye, “Lucky.”
Jeongin stepped back ahead of you, grabbing the string that connected the two of you to drag you along at a faster pace, “I dunno. It’s nice for studying but it can get boring otherwise.”
Humming, you let him drag you up the stairs and down the halls to his room, the duffel bag in your other hand. As he unlocked the door, you immediately slipped in before he could and threw the large bag down to look around your companion’s living space. It was modest and shockingly clean for a freshman in college such as himself. You could imagine that Chan’s room was probably the opposite.
“Come onnn,” The inhabitant of the room whined, picking up the bag with one hand and grabbing yours with the other to take you to his bedroom.
* * *
It didn’t take too long to get Jeongin’s things. The two of you were back at your apartment in a matter of thirty minutes. After helping the older put his things in an orderly fashion in your apartment, all you wanted to do was rest. Your new (temporary) roommate, however, insisted that you help him study. So, here you sat. You were across from him at your kitchen table, reading from neatly made flashcards he had taken the time to create. You couldn’t have cared less about what you were saying, but a smile remained on your face. When the child-like teen got literally anything correct, he would give a toothed smile. His eyes would sparkle before turning into little crescents and he would let out a small, proud giggle.
How cute.
* * *
You were dreading having to go to Jeongin’s classes with him. Through an encounter with the lady at your apartment building’s lobby, you learned that others around you couldn’t see the fiery string that bound both of you to each other. Maybe you could sneak into the lectures, the older boy had said that they hold about one hundred people per lecture. With that, you could infer that it was a large university (you’d seen the campus, after all, and it was huge) and also probably a good university. You might be fake attending college with prodigies!
When expressing this to Jeongin on the way there, you were laughed at. But his laugh was not teasing or making fun, it was soft and amused.
“There are plenty of mediocre students,” He said, “Seoul is just so large that a lot of the colleges around the area have thousands of students. Seoul University is the most popular, but that doesn’t mean it’s the most successful.”
Glancing at the rearview mirror as you drove, you let out a puff of air as you mumbled under your breath, “For a freshman in college, you sure sound wise.”
Yet another laugh filled your ears. You couldn’t help but smile.
* * *
The day went by quicker than you anticipated. People had asked you several times if you were Jeongin’s girlfriend, to which you let a soft pink dance across your cheeks as you told them that you weren’t. Soon enough, you were eating lunch. Then you just went home, since Jeongin had only three classes that day. Tomorrow he’d have five, then the next day only one. And all of them were mostly different classes!
College confused you. You were starting to reconsider even going.
When you got back to the apartment, the two of you lazed around and spent time together doing nothing. At night, you helped the boy study. This became a routine.
Wake up, shower, eat, go to university with Jeongin, come home, do nothing, eat, study, and go to bed. You didn’t realize just how much you would end up missing it.
It was the night of the full moon that you realized it.
* * *
As you were putting the colour coded vocabulary cards in Jeongin’s bag, you heard the college student’s voice pipe up from behind you, “It’s night. I can see the moon, but we’re still bound.”
“I think we need to wait ‘til morning,” You replied, zipping up the bag as you turned to face him, “Maybe the moon needs time to do its job.”
He nodded with a small hum. His scrutiny was fixated on the moon that could be seen from your kitchen window. The moonlight gently caressed his smooth skin in the most perfect of ways. His high cheekbones seemed even more prominent, but not too sharply prominent. It was a soft contour that made you want to take a picture of the beautiful human in front of you.
You thought about that picture as the two of you headed to bed. And you were shocked when you awoke at ten in the morning, the boy you’d grown feelings for no longer present. As you sat up and looked around, you realized he’d folded the blankets neatly on top of his bed. All of his things were gone. As you wandered the apartment in a depressed daze, you noticed that he’d also left you a note on the kitchen table.
Thank you for dealing with me and helping me so much, (Y/N). I wanted to let you sleep in, so I left for class as usual. I hope I can see you again soon, and I really hope that the string wasn’t an entire malfunction.
- Jeongin
Sighing, you set the handwritten note down and rubbed your temples. What did he mean by that? Was he coming back?
* * *
It was that evening you saw him again. You were huddled up on your couch, watching The Princess and the Frog, because what else was there to do at a time like this? Nothing.
Hearing a knock at your door, you let a groan slip from between your lips as you stood – leaving the blanket around your shoulders – and padded over to the door. Upon opening it, your mouth formed a perfect o as you gazed upon Jeongin himself. He had a nervous smile on his face as he held a bouquet of white roses as well as a box of chocolates.
“I was thinking,” He said, “And I know that the string tied us together for a reason. I- I think you’re my soulmate, (Y/N).”
You gave a bright smile as you nodded happily, gently taking the gifts he’d held out to you, “I think you’re my soulmate too, Jeongin… In fact, I know you are.”
His smile grew brighter, “So.. wanna hit the cafe for a late night date?”
You and Seungmin had always been close. You met in middle school, initially; you sat next to each other in a couple classes and your friend groups merged over time. The two of you formed a more romantic relationship in your last year of middle school, and it really blossomed as you converted into high school. The two of you were inseparable, truly; you were attached by the hip and, in your mind, nothing would tear your love apart.
You, however, stood corrected.
Seungmin, you knew, was amazing at singing, and he loved performing. He wanted to go on to be an idol, and you supported him. You knew it would end your relationship. But you didn’t care, because you loved him and all you wanted was for your Minnie to be happy. However, you were still struck with grief when he broke the news that he was accepted and that the relationship you’d grown to love so much was going to have to end.
You could still remember the day, an hour, the clothes you both wore, every detail. You were on the couch, waiting for him to drop by and tell you the news. You weren’t sure how to feel; if he were to get rejected, he would be upset and feel insecure about his talent, because he could be rather sensitive. But if he was accepted and got into the trainee program, you would lose him forever.
You were truly at a loss.
That being said, he eventually showed up about ten minutes late. You didn’t mind, it wasn’t your place to judge why he’d been late. But as you stood with a bright smile, clad in one of his shirts and simple shorts, your phone dropped from your small hand as you realized that his eyes were red and his cheeks were streaked with tears. Your instinct was to rush over to him and hug him, kiss his tears away, shush him and whisper sweet nothings into his ears, but your movements were delayed. You took slow, short strides to where he stood. His school bag slid over his shoulder and landed on the floor.
“Seungmin,” Your words came out in a feathery breath as you stepped closer, bringing your soft hands up to cup his face, “What’s wrong? What did they say?”
He leaned into your touch, closing his eyes tightly as he fought another sob from ripping out of his throat. “Lamb,” He mumbled, “They won’t… Let us. You- you have to.. Understand..”
Your eyes widened as they glazed with panic, you dropped your hands from his cheeks, “What.. do you mean? Is this it for.. For us?”
Your lover’s eyes shot open, and he struggled to step closer to you, to touch you. “Please,” He whimpered, “Please understand. I’m sorry.”
Your lips pursed into a thin line as you took a tiny step back, fighting the tears that threatened to escape your eyes. You knew what this meant; Seungmin got in, and they told him the truth. You’d been expecting this. But damn, it still hurt like hell.
“I don’t have a choice,” He continued, his lips quivering and his voice breaking, “Please. I love you.”
A sob forced its way out of you, your body jerking with the motion as your throat and eyes burned. “I understand. I know this is what you want. And I’m okay with that. But… It just hurts, Minnie… It hurts. You do have a choice. But I would never pressure you to make that choice.”
Seungmin’s eyes grew wide as the tears he’d been trying to hold back cascaded down his cheeks. He wanted nothing more than you hug you, to tell you everything was going to be okay, to tell you how much he loved you and that he’d never let you go.
But he was letting you go.
You let a sad, teary smile grow onto your face as you looked up at him. “Go, Kim Seungmin,” You said, “Go live your dreams. Be happy. Forget about me, please, because I don’t want to weigh you down.”
The older boy opened his mouth to protest, to which you cut him off before he could even say anything, “This is what you’ve been wanting. So I will support you because I love you. I want to be with you, but it looks like it just wasn’t meant to be that way, and that’s okay.”
All he could do was sob. He didn’t deserve you. You were so understanding, too sweet. Too perfect.
You didn’t deserve to be tossed away like this. You deserved better. Much better than Seungmin.
Once you finished talking, your dam broke; you started sobbing and crying like it was the key to keeping you alive. You covered your wet face as your emotions – your pain – spilt out of you. You didn’t know what you were going to do without Seungmin. He was your everything. Your light, your sun, your stars, your world. Without him, there would simply be a gaping hole in your heart.
The two of you cried together for some time. What else was there to do? Neither one of you could form coherent words. That is until you screamed for him to leave. It was shrill, and lacking all anger; just pain.
Unable to stand to see you like that, unable to cope with what he’d done to you, Seungmin rushed out of the house.
All contact was broken with him after that.
* * *
You were nothing but a hollow shell of a person for two months after the breakup. You sat in your dark room and stared at pictures of him, or pictures of you and him together. You didn’t eat much, and at school, you didn’t talk to anyone. It seemed the others around you knew to leave you be, word of the breakup spread fast – you were the “it” couple, after all. With gossip, comes rumours. Most of your classmates knew the truth because Seungmin going into idol business was pretty big and it spread fast. But there are always those ignorant few who feel the need to stir up drama wherever they go. The biggest one was cheating, which you felt disgusted by. Why would someone assume that either you or Seungmin cheated on the other? Cheating is a horrible thing to do and it’s something you despise with the entirety of your being. That being said, you did not like the scandalous rumours arising in the school halls.
Come summer, you feel a little bit better. Your childhood friend, Benji, had been texting you and cheering you up. He lived in America and had lived there for some time, now. It was a random day that he said something crazy, but something that promised you a new future. Something that you found yourself wanting to do more than anything.
He wanted you to move to America and live with him and his girlfriend.
So, you thought, fuck it. Why the hell not?
After discussing it with your parents, who surprisingly allowed you to go, you packed your things and were sent to California only three weeks later.
There, your new life began. You dyed your hair, started wearing a little more makeup, started working out; you really wanted and took advantage of this “new start.” You became a different person. You were thriving, and you loved it. Seungmin was pushed to the back of your mind. In fact, after almost a year, you barely thought about him at all.
Sometimes, though, you missed him. You missed his soft touches, his lips on yours, his soft brown eyes boring into your own. But you knew that what happened was for the best. With that in mind, you pushed everything back and focussed on your new life.
Once again, finally, you were happy.
* * *
Though you lived in America, your family remained in Seoul. Thus, obviously, you would have to visit from time to time, which you didn’t mind.
It was on one of these simple trips, you were staying in a hotel that was in the city with your two friends whom you lived with. It was late, probably around midnight, and you were craving chocolate more than anything. So, by God and everything holy, you went out to buy some damn chocolate.
Little did you realize just how scary the streets of Seoul were.
You had the hood of your grey hoodie up over your hair, and your hands were shoved in your pockets. The darkness, save for the streetlights, seemed to leak from the alleyways and claw at you. Every small noise made you jump and turn to see what it was. Life was different, come the shadows and darkness of the night.
You made a quick trip to the small 24-hour convenience store. The clerk was a woman in her thirties, she read a magazine with drooping eyelids. You made sure to make your purchase quick.
While she was ringing you up, you glanced outside the window, and what you saw made your heart jump to your throat. There, looking into the store, and probably at you, was a man in a black hoodie with the hood pulled over his head. His dark brown eyes stared into your own, they were unreadable. He walked away seconds after you made eye contact.
You pursed your lips, paid for the chocolate, and left the store. Slipping the sweet candy into your pocket, you rushed down the street, listening for footsteps and watching for the strange man. You didn’t like the feeling in the pit of your stomach; the fear and the dread.
Then you heard them. Quick, heavy footsteps behind you. They, along with your irregular heartbeat, pounded in your ears and pulsed through your veins.
You started speeding up, running as your hood fell in the rush.
“Wait!” A heart-breakingly familiar voice called out from behind you.
You stopped in your tracks and turned to face the person, the same one you saw in the window, except his hood, too, had fallen while running. His newly dyed reddish brown hair swayed in the small breeze and shone in the dim light of the streetlight next to him. His deep, almond-shaped eyes were wide and bore into your own with something unreadable in them. His lips were parted slightly in shock as he panted quietly from the running he’d done to catch up with you. Your eyes became the size as plates, your lungs felt heavy and empty at the same time, your heartbeat continued to rattle your bones.
+ pairing: bangchan x reader (est. relationship, dom! chan)
+ genre: smut (pwp)
+ wc:1.6k
+ warnings: dirty talk, slut shaming (ish), teasing, suggestion of bdsm (cuff play, spanking), use of traffic light system
+ rating:18+
A/N:Part 3 of my Stray Kids as Chase Atlantic lyrics. It’s been a while and I have been sitting on them for a long time. But I am back and ready to kick! Thank you @notyouropparand@ballelino for the support I couldn’t have done it without you.
LYRICS:~You’re buried in the pillow, yeah, you’re so loud, But I’m about to show you~(SLOW DOWN- CHASE ATLANTIC)
+ pairing: bangchan x reader (est. relationship, dom! chan)
+ genre: smut (pwp)
+ wc:1.6k
+ warnings: dirty talk, slut shaming (ish), teasing, suggestion of bdsm (cuff play, spanking), use of traffic light system
+ rating:18+
A/N:Part 3 of my Stray Kids as Chase Atlantic lyrics. It’s been a while and I have been sitting on them for a long time. But I am back and ready to kick! Thank you @notyouropparand@ballelino for the support I couldn’t have done it without you.
LYRICS:~You’re buried in the pillow, yeah, you’re so loud, But I’m about to show you~(SLOW DOWN- CHASE ATLANTIC)
“Hang on tight, baby girl,” Bang Chan warned, his lips parting from yours for a second, before he dove right back smacking them to yours once more.
You hung helplessly onto him, your legs wrapped around his slender hips, too enraptured by the lewd wet sounds that echoed throughout the brightly lit corridor, and his tongue tracing yours. Your hands gripped tightly onto the lapels of his blazer, struggling to hold yourself up as his hand beneath your ass disappeared to open the door to your hotel room. Moaning into the kiss, you couldn’t help but wonder how his suit had not fallen apart yet.
The kiss was anything but soft, the harsh clash of his lips against yours, teeth clashing from time to time as you readjusted yourselves—it all made your head spin. Breathy pants reverberated throughout the room, and for a moment your swore you heard the squelch of your own pussy when Chan dropped you onto the bed.
“You thought you could play with me and win, didn’t you, baby?” His wide shoulders were shaking with his erratic inhales. Chan was normally a soft lover; he wouldn’t go past what you asked of him, nor would he be rougher on his own accord. But right then, as you laid unceremoniously over the pristine sheets, his form towering over yours—he looked positively feral.
“I-“ you couldn’t defend yourself, your thoughts too clouded by the image of his mussed hair, and red plump lips.
“Did you think, for one second Y/N,” he leaned over the bed, his hands either side of your ankles. “That you could pull that stunt in the restaurant, and not be punished for it?” His cold dark eyes regarded you with interest. Knowing he was waiting for an answer, you tried your best to find your voice despite the hot flushes that took over your whole body.
“Chan, I didn’t think-“ You couldn’t finish, watching in anticipation as he settled himself fully onto the bed, his body hovering over yours.
Chan gave out a humourless laugh, his fingers dancing over the soft skin of your calf making its way up your leg. “Of course you didn’t,” he cooed, his voice sounding anything but convinced. “You wouldn’t willingly try to grope me through my pants, underneath the table whenever our waiter was around.” His hand now reached halfway up your thigh, where he laid his palm gently over it.
You couldn’t keep up with the flurry of sensations wrecking through your body. You were incredibly aroused by your previous mischief; when you had indeed tried to grab his dick more than once under the table. You’d bent over lightly, your fingers tracing the edge of his belt, a sense of satisfaction coursing through you with each sharp inhale you withdrew from his lips. It was uncommon for you, but as the night progressed, and the wine encouraged you to become bolder, you took your light touches further, your palm coming into contact with his soft bulge. Intoxicated by his scent and the alcohol, you didn’t give up until you managed to make him buck his hips into your hand, soft moans leaving his mouth masked by the sounds of the patrons around you.
Chan tried to stop you multiple times. His grip firm on your wrist, his voice low as he warned you of what would happen if you carried on. And now? He was about to deliver.
“I warned you, didn’t I?” he sighed as if apologetic for what was to come.
You swallowed hard, witnessing in slow motion his hand bearing down on your thigh. The sting of the slap caught up with you quicker than the heat creeping up your spine.
“Fuck, Chan,” you moaned, your legs twitching. With each slap your core would throb, releasing more wetness into your already ruined panties. “Please, touch me.”
Chan ignored your pleas, his hand making contact with your already flushed skin multiple times. Revelling in your moans and choked requests for him to fill you up, he kept you on edge; his hands delivering pain, interspersed with false promises of pleasure, as he kneaded the skin of your inner thigh. Close enough to where you needed to be touched to spark hope, only for it to be squished when he’d simply retreat, admiring the reddened handprints marred on your skin.
“Chris,” you whined, unable to stand it any longer. Your underwear was a mess, and you were more in pain by the lack of attention to your cunt than from how tender he’d made your skin. Using his name was enough to garner his attention, his hand hovering above your thigh. He slowly lowered it, his eyes fixed on you.
Chan enjoyed the view. Your flushed skin, lips swollen from your own teeth, legs splayed out, traces of your arousal evident in the wet patch on your underwear.
“You’re so beautiful,” he murmured, making your breath catch.
Unexpectedly, he slid an arm underneath your lower back, his other one carefully placed on top of your lower abdomen, and flipped you over making you yelp in your struggle to regain your balance.
“That’s how I want you to be,” he muttered, seemingly pleased with himself. From this position you couldn’t see him, but his pull on your hips told you enough of how he wanted you to present yourself to him. On your hands and knees. “That’s it baby girl, you’re learning fast.” An impish smile made its way past your face, and you wiggled your ass against his crotch. Your breath caught in your throat when you realised how hard he was for you.
“Y/N,” Chan warned before he grabbed a handful of your flesh, pulling you towards him, his clothed dick making contact with your core. “If you still want to play games, we can still play games, but it won’t end well in your favour.” He pointed his palms, spreading over the already bruised skin, making you jump. He enjoyed how receptive you were to his blows, but he also didn’t want to hurt you, so before he resumed his punishment, he carefully bent over to softly press a kiss to your ass.
“Colour?”, his voice softened for a moment and your heart swelled at his care.
“Green baby, keep going,” you reassured him and before you knew it, a sharp sting hit the swell of your ass, pushing you forward onto your forearms.
“You’re so wet baby, you barely need to be prepped,” Chan growled, his palm delivering another harsh blow to your ass, catching your pussy in the process. The sharp sting of his palm paired with the wet sound of his skin making contact with yours made you purr in delight.
Chan paused for a second, his hand hanging above your bottom, taking the moment to recompose himself. The sounds coming out of your throat as you rutted into air, desperate for more of his blows, had his cock twitching and almost ready to blow his load, prematurely all over your reddened skin.
“Are you a cat now, Y/N?” he growled, his hand bearing down harder onto your skin, this time making sure to catch your folds with his fingers. “You’re purring” He couldn’t take it anymore, the small cat-like sounds broken by your soft moans travelled down his spine making his cock twitch with lust.
“Since you’re so wet, you’re going to take me so well,” he praised you, voice softer than before.
“Please Chan, fill me up with your cock, punish me,” you pleaded, arching your back into his crotch.That was enough to spring him into action. Undoing his pants, he pulled his cock out and entered you with one swift thrust, not even bothering to take off your underwear. Jolted you let your head fall onto the pillow, as your folds parted around his girth with the dexterity and practice of someone who had done this more than enough times.
Chan was rarely rough with you, but tonight you seemed to have done it. Without giving you a chance to adjust to his cock he pulled it out, only to slam it back into you over and over again, bottoming you out with each move.
“You’re taking it so well baby, so well. Milking my cock so desperately despite it being a punishment… you’re such a glutton for it aren’t you?” he praised you, his fingers digging deep into the already sensitive flesh of your ass.
Screaming as loud as you could, you bit tighter into the pillow pushing your ass further back into his hips, meeting his thrusts. As his dick shoved into you harder, hitting the entrance of your womb repeatedly, you couldn’t do anything but allow yourself to let go. The buzzing underneath your skin intensified and you chanted his name like a prayer, until your throat felt raw and your head pounded to the rhythm of his plunges.
Any other senses were dulled, the white noise filling your ears made it hard for you to focus on the volume of your moans. Through the orgasm induced fog you could discern Chan’s voice as he bent over you, his hips slapping relentlessly into your ass as he stretched you open with his cock.
“You may want to slow down, baby girl,” he murmured, clicking the cuffs onto your wrist, “keep your voice down, I’m not even close to being through with you.”
Never in a million years would you have thought that you’d end up in this situation. As you stand on the balcony, leaning against the metal railing with a cigarette hanging from your fingers, the view of an entire city spayed out right in front of you, courtesy of your fiancé.
Your ears are filled with the sound of the city still alive and the music softly playing from your speakers.
You hear the sound of the front door opening, the lock clicking after it closes. Footsteps approach the balcony door and you hear it sliding open right before arms wrap around your waist and a chin rests on your shoulder.
“Honey, I’m home.” The familiar smell of his cologne floods your senses, your eyes closing slightly as it sends relief and comfort rushing throughout your system. “I thought I told you not to wait up for me when I’m working late.”
“You know that I can’t sleep without you, my love,” you hum. “How was work?” you ask as you lift your hand up to comb your fingers through Changbin’s hair while the other puts out your cigarette against the ashtray sitting on the rail.
“You know how it is,” he sighs. “I’m just glad to finally be home with you. I told the boys I’m off for the week. What do you wanna do, baby? We can head out somewhere, maybe fly out to Greeze—I could take you to Thailand. Spend a few days away from everything with just the two of us.”
“Sounds romantic,” you hum. Changbin spins you gently by the waist so that you’re facing him. “Well, hello handsome.” Your hand raises to cup his face when he smiles widely. His own hand raises to hold yours and brings it to his lips where he presses a kiss to your knuckles. “Why so generous?”
“Chan doesn’t need me for the next week or so. Felix and Jeongin sold almost three months worth of it. I’ve just got more than a hundred thousand on me, baby. I wanna pamper my darling for the week,” Changbin hums against your skin.
“You’ve pampered me enough, Binnie,” you chuckle. “I wouldn’t be in this penthouse if I wasn’t pampered by you. And I definitely wouldn’t be here this young if you weren’t part of one of the biggest drug trafficking networks in the world.”
“It’s part of my charm, (Y/n),” he jokes. “Plus, you would’ve left a long time ago if you didn’t like what I did for a living.”
“As long as I don’t get in on the actual drugs, I will still stay with you,” you claim softly. “I love you, Changbin.”
“I love you too, baby.” Changbin leans forward and presses a kiss to your forehead, then your nose, then your lips, where he lingers for a moment longer. When he pulls away, he looks at you with pure love in his eyes. “Now, about that trip; how do you feel about Seychelles?”
“As long as I’m with you, I don’t care about where we go. I don’t care about any of the money either, baby—I just want to be with you,” you sigh in content as you pull him back into your arms to bury your face in his shirt.
“Oh, I almost forgot.” He pulls away slightly and reaches into the pocket of his pants, “I got you something.”
“How many times am I supposed to tell you that I don’t need more gifts,” you sigh with a smile as you watch Changbin rummage through his pockets.
“It’s all worth it for me, honey,” he reassures you just as he pulls a small box out of his pocket. “I told you I’d get you a proper engagement ring since I proposed to you in the middle of the ocean on a yacht when we were being gunned down by the cops.”
“Changbin…”
Changbin pulls the dark blue box out in front of you and pulls the top open. Your shoulders relax slightly when you see the ring, a small gasp leaving your lips. Your biggest fear when you had started dating Changbin was that he would go too over the top with his gifts, but at the end of the day, no one knows you better than him as you stare at the silver engagement ring topped with a diamond that doesn’t seem too flashy.
“I know how much you hate big diamonds, so I chose something that’s small and classy,” he says as he pulls the ring out of the box. “How does it look, baby?”
“I love it,” you sigh as you let him slip it onto your finger. “I love you. You didn’t have to even get me a diamond ring—I would’ve been happy with a soju cap.”
“I want to give you the best, my love,” Changbin insists as he keeps his eyes trained on the ring on your finger, “and now I can finally show off my pretty fiance with their pretty ring.” He raises your hand yet again, but this time, his lips touch against the ring. “I love this. I love seeing this ring on your finger knowing that this means we’re getting married. I love just being with you, (Y/n).”
Your day was horrible. Not just horrible - it was the type of horrible that made you feel horrible about yourself. Your shoulders slumped, feet dragged, and eyes slowly rose from the ground to the lock of the door. Everything felt like it was in slow-motion. The keys jangled far too noisily, and you opened the door too hard, and you dropped your things too forcefully. Why was it so difficult for you to do things well today?
Somehow, you managed to close and lock the door, take off your shoes, and head into your bedroom. Your boyfriend, Felix, looked up from his game to watch you trudge across the room. “Hey babe. You feeling alright?” His deep voice was filled with concern, but you could only sigh in response. Felix paused his game, eyebrows furrowing as he watched you. Your hands weakly picked up a soft, oversized t-shirt and shorts from your closet. You could feel Felix’s gaze follow you all the way out the door. Only when you were safe behind the closed bathroom door did you let yourself break. You sniffed and let your tears freely fall while you changed.
When you were finished, you looked at yourself in the mirror above the sink, wiping at your cheeks and eyes. Felix would know you had cried. You sighed at your reflection in disappointment and slowly bent to pick up your discarded clothes that somehow ended up on the floor. Another inconvenience to add to your growing list of stressors.
When you found yourself back in the bedroom, Felix was laying on the bed staring at you with his warm eyes and loving, freckled face. You blinked at him in response, fingers twisting the fabric in your hands. Then he opened his arms, beckoning you to him. The clothes fell from your hands and you scrambled across the bed into Felix’s embrace. His hands wrapped around you, one hand on your lower back, slipping under your shirt to rub soothing circles into your skin, and the other on your head. His fingers threaded through your hair and massaged your scalp. Surrounded by Felix’s warmth, scent, and love, you broke again.
Your body shook with each sob. Felix drew you closer. He placed a sweet kiss to the top of your head and let you cry into his chest. After countless minutes of weeping, you finally went silent, throat tight and body exhausted. Your boyfriend looked down at you, moving so he could see your eyes. Your puffy eyes peered up at him, barely open. He gave you a smile. “Hello beautiful.” His lips kissed your forehead, then your cheek, and then they met your lips. You inhaled deeply, relishing in the feeling. His eyes met yours once more before he reached for the blanket, tangling your legs together and tucking your head beneath his chin.
-> in which, maybe you should have trusted that old realtor who had told you your new apartment was haunted. Lee Felix was bored just simply existing, it was time that he had a little fun tormenting the mortals.
“Do you want a drink? Some water?” The blonde man asked as soon as you sat down on his double bed, flatscreen tv illuminating the dimly lit room.
“No thanks, I’m okay,” you responded with a soft smile as you reach for his hand to pull him down on the bed beside you but he resists.
“Some chips? I’m sure we have some,” he tries and you roll your eyes in response, tugging harder at his hand so he has no choice but to give in and drop down on the bed beside you.
“We already have popcorn, Felix. We don’t need chips,” you tell him.
“Oh,” he pouted, “I just wanna make sure you’re comfortable,” he mumbles, causing you to coo at the man in front of you, wrapping your arm around his waist and snuggling into him from your sitting position.
“I am, Felix. This is perfect,” you reply and he smiles at that, his eyes lighting up as he looks down at you, happy with himself. He moves so that the two of you are laying more comfortably in his bed, keeping you close to his side before gently laying a blanket over your forms. You rested your head in the crook of his neck, hand laying on his chest as he pressed play on the movie although you weren’t paying much attention to the movie. The steady rhythm of his heart put you at ease as he started to play with your hair, teasing his fingers along your scalp. “Mhm, that feels nice,” you whispered.
“Well I had to do something to wake you up,” he chuckled, the deep sound reverberating through his chest.
“I wasn’t asleep,” you laughed.
“Just say you think I’m boring,” Felix jokes, lip jutting out playfully.
“You are the furthest thing from boring, Lee Felix,” you argued, turning to face him. He leaned forward with a smile, giving you a quick peck before pulling back to look into your eyes.
“What are we supposed to tell our children when they ask us how we met?” Felix questioned, fully serious. You snorted.
“You mean we can’t tell them you haunted my apartment and constantly tried to murder me?” you joked.
“I didn’t try to murder you!” Felix exclaimed in mock offence. “Plus, it was my apartment first,” he added. You rolled your eyes at the boy’s words.
“We won’t need to worry about that anyway for at least fifteen years,” you smiled sweetly.
“Fifteen? That’s so long away,” he cried.
“This is nice,” you commented.
“What? Us fighting?” he replied. You purse your lips and take a deep breath in, reminding yourself to keep calm despite your heightening blood pressure thanks to your wonderful boyfriend.
“I’ll hit you, I really will,” you mumble and he laughs in response, eyes resembling crescent moons crinkling at the sides. Cute.
“I’m sorry, I promise I’ll stop annoying you,” he playfully begs.
“Don’t make promises you know you can’t keep,” you stated, trying your hardest to send him a glare but failing upon seeing that mischievous sparkle in his eyes.
“Okay then, how about this,” he nodded. “I promise I’ll be here with you for as long as you’ll have me, even if death do us part.”
“So corny,” you grimaced. “But so cute.”
“Can we watch this movie now?” the blonde man asked. “I’ve been wanting to watch this since before I died,” he explained. You nodded, letting out a soft laugh as you lay back down against him, his warmth immediately putting you at ease. Felix loosely wrapped his arms around your form, laying his chin atop your head as he focused his eyes back on the movie.
-> in which, maybe you should have trusted that old realtor who had told you your new apartment was haunted. Lee Felix was bored just simply existing, it was time that he had a little fun tormenting the mortals.
a/n:this is kind of the official last part, there’ll be a drabble at the end to give more insight into y/n’s and Felix’s relationship but that’s basically it !! Thank you all for the support, I really love hearing that people enjoy my stories ! Hope you have a good day
-> in which, maybe you should have trusted that old realtor who had told you your new apartment was haunted. Lee Felix was bored just simply existing, it was time that he had a little fun tormenting the mortals.
Meeting Yongbok for the first time felt odd, to say the least. He walked in, sticking close to Chan as his eyes surveyed the room, landing on you. He flashed you a small smile and a polite hello before doing the same to Taehyun.
“Did you tell him what we’re doing?” Taehyun questioned flatly, turning his attention from Yongbok to Chan.
“Uh, no,” he answered, unsure of what Taehyun wanted him to say.
“Good. It’s easier that way,” Taehyun nodded. You glanced over to Yongbok who you assumed would at least have some type of reaction to being talked about but he just simply stood there. An empty depth to his dark eyes. “Yongbok, I’d advise you to sit down for this.” Yongbok blinked at Taehyun and Chan reached for his hand using it to guide him down on the leather couch. You stared at Taehyun as he moved around, taking candles from around the room and placing them down on the floor beside Yongbok, eyes following every move as you still stood from greeting your newest guest. “Y/n can you turn the lights off?” Taehyun requested.
“You need the lights off to do your witchy shit?” you questioned as you flicked the switch, plunging the room into darkness. Taehyun rolled his eyes at your words, not that you would see before lighting a candle.
“No, but it gives the room a nice vibe,” he voiced. “Are we ready?” Taehyun inquired, lighting the last candle and you had to admit, the warm flickering light made you feel somewhat at ease knowing what was coming.
“As we’ll ever be,” Chan sighs as he grips Yongbok’s hand, interlacing their fingers. Taehyun let his eyes slip closed as he drew in a deep breath, the candles almost seemed like they were reacting to the movement as their flames swelled as he took the breath in. Taehyun stood above Yongbok who stared up at him wordlessly, he placed a hand atop the blonde’s head, the man closing his eyes softly in response. The psychic began to mumble something under his breath, too low for you to make out as you and Chan stared, eyes wide. The room grew cold, so much so that you felt a shiver run up the base of your spine. The room seemed darker now, the light terminating from the candles only reaching so far. All of a sudden, Yongbok’s head drops and his body slumps. Taehyun gives no reaction at all but Chan goes into a frenzy. His eyes are wild as his hand leaves Yongbok’s to go to his neck to feel a pulse. Judging by the red creeping up the base of his neck and dark stare on Taehyun, he wasn’t able to find one.
“What the fuck man, you killed him!” Chan screeched. “He’s already been dead once!”
“If you don’t stop whining like a teenager I’ll make sure he stays dead,” Taehyun mumbles, eyes remaining shut. Chan’s face reddened further and he pursed his lips like he was about to say something else but chose not to. But you couldn’t help but notice the prominent vein on his forehead, a telling sign that he was holding himself back from jumping the poor psychic. Taehyun sighs as he lets his hand drop back by his side, finally opening his eyes.
“What the fuck are you doing? Wake him up!” Chan exclaimed, feeling dumbfounded as his friend lay lifelessly beside him.
“It’s done,” was all he said, taking a step back. Chan was about to scream more profanities at his coworker but those words died on his tongue when he noticed Yongbok’s fingers twitching.
“Yongbok?” Chan asks quietly, a stark contrast to the tone he had taken not one minute ago. His hands go to his friend’s shoulders, gently shaking him. A smile overtook his face when the man responded with a slight groan, slowly cracking his eyes open. The blonde straightened up before looking at the man sitting beside him. He couldn’t even get a word out before Chan was attacking him in a bear hug. “It’s you, you’re back,” Chan spoke, voice quivering. The other man responded by wrapping his arms around him, comforting the now sobbing man. You felt yourself release a breath you didn’t even realise you had been holding, watching the scene with fond eyes. It was him.
Felix broke apart from the man with a low chuckle although when he turned to you, you could tell he was trying his hardest not to cry. His deep brown eyes met yours and they looked different now, like a warmer shade of brown. You weren’t sure what his reaction would be, would he want to talk to you? Or would he just rather go on about his life without even remembering this whole mess ever happened in the first place? So you stayed still, waiting to see what he would do. Noticing your hesitancy, Felix stood up from his seat on the couch, leaving a sobbing Chan on the couch who gratefully took a tissue from Taehyun. You could hardly process the time from when he stood up to when he enveloped you in his arms, fingers getting lost in your hair as he held you as close as he could.
“Thank you so much,” he whispered into your hair. You closed your eyes and let yourself feel the feeling of him. His warmth. He was actually here and it felt too good to be true. It felt too safe, wrapped up tightly in his arms. He let out another whispered thanks into the crown of your head before placing a small kiss there. Pulling away, you saw that his eyes were glassy and you couldn’t help but appreciate his beauty properly for the first time. His skin was dusted with a light covering of freckles, mostly around his eyes and nose. His eyes were big and they seemed to sparkle in the dim light, although that may be thanks to unshed tears.
“So, what now?” you asked quietly. Even after pulling away from the hug, Felix let his arms linger around your waist, the feeling making you feel slightly lightheaded.
“What do you mean?” he responded, eyebrows raised slightly in question.
“The apartment, we’ll have to figure something out. I mean there’s the guest room so we both could stay here or i-” you rambled. Felix cut you off before you got carried away.
“I don’t think that would be a good idea,” he commented.
“Oh.”
“Yeah, I feel like that’s moving a bit too fast in our relationship. I want to do this right,” Felix smiled, light pink testing overtaking his cheeks. You almost choked on air.
“Our relationship? Do this right?” you repeated slowly, making sure that you weren’t mishearing a single syllable.
“Yeah, you do feel the same way, right? Or were you smiling at your phone like a fool whenever I text for another reason?” he smirked, although that soon turned into a devious grin as your cheeks began to heat up and you had no idea what else to do than smack him lightly on the chest.
“I wasn’t!” you exclaimed. Felix simply chuckled in reply, spinning so that he was facing Chan and Taehyun, the former wide his jaw slacked as he stared at the two of you. His eyes darted between the two of you in confusion.
“How do you- when did you-” he tried but gave up, shaking his head in defeat. “No, you know what, it would be you to fall in love with a ghost,” Chan rolled his eyes and Felix let out an unattractive snort from beside you. Your eyes widened, eyebrows raising as you took in your best friend’s words.
“And what do you mean by that?” you tested, Chan simply stood there with an amused grin on his face.
“Calm down baby,” Felix interjected as he lifted a hand to pat your head, you knew he was joking by the tone in his voice but that didn’t stop your mind from running wild as your gaze dropped to the ground with an awkward chuckle.
-> in which, maybe you should have trusted that old realtor who had told you your new apartment was haunted. Lee Felix was bored just simply existing, it was time that he had a little fun tormenting the mortals.
word count:1k
notes: I’m so sorry about these short chapters and for having so many written ones but I’ve been really busy with college work since its the end of the semester but I just wanted to get something out :)
That was the question Chan had asked and it sounded simple, but you all knew that that would be far from the truth.
We need Youngbok.
Taehyun replied. It was something that Chan had been expecting but fearful of nonetheless. Involving Yongbok was difficult, to say the least. His parents had him more or less locked down inside their house because he couldn’t go long periods of time without fatigue, thanks to his spirit being far away from his body. Even getting permission to go out to lunch with his friend had been difficult. Yongbok’s parents were lovely people and they hated keeping him away from his friends, or fun in general but they were extremely cautious of him, scared that any little thing could set him back in his recovery process.
At first, Yongbok had been mute. The days after he was released from the hospital and allowed to return home had been torture for his parents. They would watch, day after day, hoping for something to change but he would simply sit there with an emptiness in his eyes, not letting out a single noise. Slowly, he began to improve but that emptiness persevered and it irked them to no end. He wasn’t the same person that had been so excited to share such an important moment in his life. Now, Yongbok could do simple tasks, and he seemed to enjoy helping out around the house. But his energy would soon deplete and he would cave into himself, wordlessly pushing his way past his parents to go to his room where he would sleep for hours. The separation of body and spirit took a toll on both halves, while Felix held the emotional burden of leaving everything he knew and loved behind, Yongbok held a more physical burden, his body would long to connect with its spirit but could never quite reach it, it was tiring and it was evident from the look in his eyes.
The responsibility of retrieving Yongbok and bringing him to your apartment fell on Chan. And with a huff and not much else, Chan disappeared down the hallway of your apartment, ready to use his charms to convince Yongbok’s parents to release him into Chan’s care.
With Chan gone, an uncomfortable silence filled the room. Taehyun was sitting on the armchair across from you staring into nothing. You checked your phone again, hoping that your ghost friend would take your mind off the slightly creepy psychic, but, alas, nothing. You chewed on the inside of your mouth as your leg bounced up and down and you tried to distract yourself from your current situation but all that you could think of was him, Felix, or Yongbok as everyone knew him as. A question nagged at the back of your mind, coming to the surface once again: What would happen when Felix was alive again?
You couldn’t deny that that question scared you. You had become so accustomed to having another person in the apartment with you, even if they were technically dead and you couldn’t even see them. Felix had become a sort of comfort person to you, weirdly enough he was the person you spoke to the most, not even Chan had him beaten on that front. But, was that his choice? Would he even want to speak to you if you weren’t helping him? You weren’t saying he was using you or anything, no. Rather, just simply doing the decent thing, because he was a decent person. Lee Felix is everything anyone would want in a partner and as much as you tried to ignore that fact because it was so wrong, you just couldn’t. He was kind, like when he would use threats to find a way to speak to you and ask you how your day had been, constantly asking about the craziest stories you had from delivering pizzas because he knew you had many. He was thoughtful, like when he would see you freaking out over where you had left your keys because you could swear you left them on the kitchen counter he would remind you that he had placed them on the keyholder beside your front door after you had haphazardly thrown them on the couch the night before. He was funny, like when you would easily find yourself laughing along to his stupid jokes or find it so adorable how obviously flustered he would be when you would flirt with him, you could just imagine his cheeks growing red and an awkward smile overtaking his lips. And, he was attractive, something you had only recently found out when looking into his past. His features were almost ethereal and if you had time to appreciate them when you first saw him in person then you would have.
There were so many times when you should catch yourself thinking, I wish I had someone like him. But no matter what, he was unobtainable and also dead, it was that simple. Or, it had been that simple until you found out that Felix wasn’t as dead as your first thought. You couldn’t help but think if you had become as important to him as he had to you and whether he would even want to be friends after.
The vibration of your phone broke you from your train of thoughts and when you looked you saw Felix’s name on the screen. Your heart felt lighter at the appearance of his name, almost as if he had read your mind and had come to remind you that he was still here.
Are you okay?
The message read and you felt like a lovesick teenager when you had to hold back a smile at the fact that he had noticed your brows furrowed in deep thought. It was nothing special but it definitely felt as though it was when he said it. You nodded your head with a small smile, sure that Felix would see it. But a smile couldn’t quite conceal your sullen demeanour.
-> in which, maybe you should have trusted that old realtor who had told you your new apartment was haunted. Lee Felix was bored just simply existing, it was time that he had a little fun tormenting the mortals.
a/n:this has to be the longest chapter i’ve ever made whoowee
pairing: han jisung x gn! reader wc:900 warnings:rain, thunder a/n:ooo another word spill? this is not even a proper piece, really just scenes of a rainy day all wrapped up in a cloak lol
a street studded with balls of fire // the quiet thrum of blissful clamour // the clattering awning over lovers // kisses that taste of sparkling desire
the rain drums like bullets on the metal roof, stampeding with a muffled thud against the tarpaulin cover, the sound so loud it drowns all others. the faint chatter of the people awaiting their food rises inside the semi covered noodle shop, the scraping of spatula against wok, the fumes of heat that waft in the earthy air, clinking of glasses with loud cheers of a day well spent; all mixed in a strange kaleidoscope of a wet day.
trees bow down, shuffling and swaying, a dance without moves, a melody without bars. unfiltered, unbalanced, unrestrained; the world cares not how they move in dissonance, simply stringing the harps gleefully.
the bowl of udon is warm to the touch, steams of spicy swirls wafting in the air. specks of soup splatter on the old wooden table when you dig in, slurping a huge bite of the noodles. the chilli stains your lips, burning where the skin was chapped and you relive it with a sip of your lime soda.
jisung’s glasses cloud up with the steam, blinding him in a temporary fog, your small chuckle resounding at the sight before he feels the tug and your fingers barely grazing his cheek, the foggy curtain lifted and a small smile of thanks makes it to his burning lips. the chills across his back has got nothing to do with the chilly rain.
thighs touching across the cramped table, a game of footsies ends in an entangled mess, the warmth of skin through fabric like a gentle comfort. bare words are exchanged, forgotten, unessential in the quest to pacify rumbling stomachs. the sniffs and burning tongues are the only shared sentiment.
the sky turns a shade darker than ash, a dirty puddle of the lightest brown and darkest grey.
red and amber and orange lamps line the street like a string of fire, bottled up in glass tubes and strung up high like stars blooming in lieu of the darkness. your faces glow warm and ochre, a kiss from the stars that share their glimmer, now matte and smooth across your skins. the singular earring that dangles from jisung’s ear, glitters when the light catches it in a game of hide and seek.
in silence filled by the loud pattering of the sky’s tears, your breaths mingle with the warmth of a hot bowl of udon, slurping and licking and chewing and gulping till the warmth balls up inside your stomach. your chapped lips sting where the spices bite, relieving it with a gulp of lime sodas, the belated sweetness of the drink making you sigh in satisfaction.
eyes fluttering on a full stomach, you’re now impelled to lean forward and rest your head on an outstretched hand, limbs relaxing under the lullaby of rain and chatter. a warm hand slips in your palm, clasping yours in a snug glove. palm in palm, raised to berry lips, a small kiss against your skin, burning where the hot breath lingers, swirling like a lagoon in the crevices of your knuckles.
jisung speaks louder under the comfort of thunder.
a joyful sprint across the streets, under jackets that keep you barely sheathed, when the lovers run in a haphazard trail, entwined hands that grasp each other under the crying sky. two figures running under balls of fire, so much love, it spills the street till it’s one with the fallen tears.
a scurried shelter under a shop, isolated from the din of people, jumping puddles and showered under drenching leaves, the lovers giggle and shout in delight, the small rejoicing at the mundane – a puddle conquered. if one squints, they’ll see two figures, under the roof of a closed shop, hugging so tight they look like one.
a tug on the sleeve, a tug on jisung’s heart; your eyes find his in the dark, wide and searching for what he doesn’t know; all he sees are amber stars. splatters of rain, like diamond studs on your faces, brushed away with the stroke of thumbs. the hands that find respite in each other’s hair, a pull of bodies freezing under the rain.
the mirrors of water, black and ash against the concrete, frosted with the splatter of rain, jisung’s heart leaps like the drops of water bouncing off the ground, your singular sight so precious to his eyes. like a flickering flame of fire you smile, with a reason not you laughed in melodious dissonance and with a tug of his sleeve you make him tremble.
the first kiss is soft, lips pressed and small smiles, but the sky cries harder and the lovers’ knees buckle and the kisses grow wilder. your mouths are warm yet shivering against each other’s, the prodding cautiousness pulling you closer. the shop stands still with darkness inside, the doors shut and a closed sign on the front. but it watches, secretive, comforting over the two lovers, keeping it safe under the folds of its quiet adoration.
lips covered in a subtle balm of chilli, the sweetness of lime sits on the puckered flesh, the gasps and moans and breaths all quietened, swallowed by the rain that thunders. hands across waist, hands across cheeks, nimble fingers threading through hair, lips that kiss and kiss and kiss, till breaths are shared and the love bleeds.
↳Part 1/9 ofUnmatched, 2022 rewrite. Set several months after the events of Unrequited, you are now married and settled with the man you thought you’d never have. Yet when old secrets and bad habits resurface, things are not as entirely harmonious as they seem.
↳Female reader x Lee Know, female reader x Hyunjin
↳6.4k
!Strong language, established relationship, marriage au, love triangle au, thriller, romance, stripper-slash-escort Lee Know, husband Lee Know, heavy angst and tension, explicit sexual content, dominant Lee Know, oral sex (f. rec), storeroom sex, dirty talk, references to sex toys and aids, themes of casual sex, promiscuity, commitment issues and adult themes throughout !
A vow so sealed with a kiss had bound you to the man you loved for eternity, though it’s no stretch to suppose he claimed your soul long before the eyes of church and state ever deigned to recognise it.
Marriage was blissful. Marriage was harmonious. Marriage would change you both, they’d said, make you a better person through the responsibilities it comes with, the duties of a wife to her husband, of a husband to his wife.
Those people didn’t know you. They didn’t know Minho either.
For if they did, they’d have saved such pearls of wisdom for the next couple coming through.
You don’t think marriage has changed you. By all accounts, you’re the same old person you always were.
Your lips purse to the same pout they always do. Your hair is the same colour it always was. Even your general outlook on life remains naïvely optimistic, irrespective of the inevitable bad days you occasionally suffer through.
Rolling your car to a gradual stop and firmly switching the ignition, you reangle the rear-view mirror, taking a second to assess presentability before you get out. It’s by tucking a strand of loose hair behind your ear that you’re momentarily blinded by a sharp glint; the silver wedding band on your ring finger, set with a single diamond that catches the dusky afternoon sunlight.
You admire it—the diamond demands that you must—spreading your fingers out, holding your hand under a dusted ray that beams through your car window. It sparkles, quietly reminding you that despite all the sameness, your life is vastly different now.
You suppose that if someone had informed you six months ago that you’d be married and relatively settled down by now, you’d have advised them in favour of industrial strength therapy and maybe a lobotomy or three.
Yet here you are; more than half a year into a marriage you never foresaw, with a man you can’t well live without.
Perhaps more miraculously than any of that, however, is the fact that anything has yet to go wrong.
matching outfits with the style icon himself??? YES PLS SIGN ME UP RN. this mf LOVES to take you shopping and pick out some of the most random things. you’ll end up trying on a lot of gag outfits that just make you giggle at each other and how dumb you look but then they’ll be the time when you both pick out something cute for the other to wear. bro you guys need to have at least three sets of matching outfits in your closets, it’s a must for him. he loves just walking out in the street, holding your little hand in his, silently showing you off to the world as you guys wear matching shirts, etc. as a joke one time you bought him matching ‘i’m with stupid’ shirts and although he laughed and said they were dumb when you first showed them to him, you catch him wearing them around the house all the time.
a (incomplete) collection of voicemails on a phone that hasn’t been charged for over a year. // if i could have this entire thing in italics i would but i won’t. anyways, something a bit different imo. idk how i feel about it tho yikes warnings: implied reader death; please do not read if that will potentially put you in a bad mindset. ; alcohol wc:1.3k
[ 11:23am ]
“hey, y/n. it’s me. i know you probably won’t hear these-”
an exhaled breath of laughter.
“‘probably’? i know you won’t. you never used to check your voicemails, anyway, but- but now you really never will.”
the first time you see him he’s walking through the front door with chan and jisung like he owns the place.
he’s stupidly pretty, with plump pink lips formed into a pout and long lashes framing big eyes. he’s wearing sinfully tight leather pants and a soft looking sweater, a look you didn’t think would ever fit but somehow this boy makes it work. you realize you’ve been staring for longer than is socially acceptable when he turns and his eyes latch onto yours. your cheeks burn as your gaze drops down to the half finished drink in your hand. your mind is racing, you swear you’ve seen him before somewhere. your friend taps you on the shoulder, holding out a ball indicating that it’s your turn to go in pong, and he almost leaves your mind.
+ pairing: kim seungmin x female reader + genre: fluff, enemies to lovers, florist!seungmin, best friend!felix + warnings:none + word count: 1.1k + requested as part of my Drabble Event #2 + summary: Your plan was simple: get Kim Seungmin a flower bouquet that screamed how much you despised him. However, your plan fails after you meet the florist and understand that maybe flowers can mean different things to different people. + lia’s note: Hello, I hope you’re doing well. When I tell you I love this drabble, it’s because I do. I had so much fun writing it and I hope you enjoy reading it too! Please, like/reblog this if you enjoy reading it and let me know your thoughts through an ask if you feel like it! As always, happy reading!
“What flower says I hate you the most?” You asked your best friend as the two of you stared at the flower shop window, looking over the different arrangements on display. “Do you think I should google it?”
“Why do you want flowers anyway?” Felix shrugged and messed his hair. “Couldn’t you get him, I don’t know, a box of spicy chocolates?”
“Those don’t say I hate you discreetly, Felix. Those are too straightforward. Besides, he likes spicy food.”
“How do you know that?”
You ignored Felix as you moved away from the window, grabbing your phone and quickly searching which flowers had the meaning of I hate you. You scrolled through a couple of the results and made a mental list of the flowers you’d consider: orange lilies and yellow carnations seemed like the best option. You’d be sure to ask the florist to make you a small bouquet with that.
“Let’s go!”
You grabbed Felix’s hand and pulled him to the inside of the flower shop. A soft melody played and your eyes got lost in the beautiful colours of the different flowers, their scents melting in the air beautifully.
“Welcome to the flower shop! How can I help you?”
Your dream was short-lived when you glanced at who was behind the counter. The disappointment you felt was probably not mutual because his smile didn’t fade. Since when did Kim Seungmin work at a flower shop?
“I’ll wait outside…” Before you could argue with your best friend, Felix was already opening the shop door and stepping outside, offering you a thumbs-up from the outside.
You shook your head and massaged your temples, not surprised Felix left you here on your own to chat with Seungmin. He always did this whenever you were together. Slowly, you made your way to the counter and placed your hands on it, glancing at Seungmin. As usual, he had a smirk on his lips that made your heart jump in your chest at an awfully fast pace. This was why you couldn’t stand Kim Seungmin. You didn’t like feeling this way when you were close to him.
“I’d like a small bouquet with… orange lilies and yellow carnations. You can make it ugly, I don’t care.”
“That bouquet is for me, isn’t it?” He chuckled and leaned on the counter, keeping his eyes on you. You glanced at his lips and back into his eyes, wishing you had the strength in yourself to look away. “Props to you for looking up the meaning of the flowers. Sadly, we don’t have those flowers in stock. Do you still want to offer me an I hate you flower arrangement?”
“Make me a flower arrangement with the flower you hate the most, then.” You leaned closer to him too, somewhat upset. “And I don’t care about how it looks. The more you hate it, the more I’ll like it.”
He shrugged. “I don’t hate any flower, Y/N. And I can’t possibly make it look bad, not even on purpose. I am that talented. However, it will never be as beautiful as you, of course.”
Here he was again, swaying you with his words. You didn’t like this at all, especially when you knew this was the most cliché pick-up line he could’ve used on you. Besides, he didn’t mean it. Seungmin charmed everyone around him with words, half of which he didn’t mean.
His words carried no meaning. He truly didn’t think you were beautiful no matter how much you wished he did.
As he got back to work on the flower arrangement you had requested him, you paced around the flower shop and glanced at the different shades and sizes, smelling a couple of them to get the full experience of their scents. Some were stronger while others were lighter, but you enjoyed all of them.
“Gardenia,” Seungmin said after a while. “Specifically the white ones.”
“Do you hate them?”
He chuckled and shook his head, glancing your way. “I don’t hate them. I just feel powerless by them.”
“Why is that?”
You started to walk towards the counter again, focusing on what Seungmin was doing. He had selected a couple of flowers and was working hard to prepare a flower arrangement. He was methodical in his work, quick too. You found yourself leaning on the counter, fascinated by what he was doing, admiring him from afar.
“I always wanted to give you a bouquet with them.” He stopped what he was doing and messed up his hair, quickly glancing at you. He was flustered, making you flustered in return. “They’re pretty flowers. But I always feared you’d know what they meant so I kept myself from sending them to you.”
“It’s ok if you despise me, you know? What do they mean, anyway?” You said that last part more to yourself than to him.
You got your phone out of your pocket again and searched for the name of the flower he had said. The more you read, the more confused you were. Most websites said positive things, lovely things. Seungmin couldn’t possibly mean that, could he?
“Like any other flower, they can mean different things. But if I ever gave you these flowers it would be to tell you that you’re lovely.”
Your eyes shot from your phone screen to Seungmin on the other side of the counter, extending a bouquet of white flowers to you. It took you a while to understand that the flowers in front of you were the same flowers on the images on your phone.
White gardenias. Seungmin had prepared a bouquet with white gardenias.
Slowly, you reached your hand towards the bouquet, unable to hide your smile. It looked pretty, not ugly as you had requested. And the flowers were lovely, maybe more lovely than you. However, you couldn’t help but wonder what you would do with it. You had asked him for a bouquet with the flowers he despised the most, but now that you knew what they meant, you couldn’t help but wonder if that wasn’t the message you wanted to get across to Seungmin, but couldn’t.
You’re lovely.
“So these are the flowers you loathe the most?” You asked, just be sure.
“I guess…” He shrugged and messed his hair, smiling at you afterwards. “Just let me know which meaning you’re giving to them once you offer me the bouquet later.”
You nodded, feeling your heartbeat increase the more you stared at him. Except, this time, instead of looking away or making a sarcastic remark pretending you didn’t care for him, you allowed yourself to smile and enjoy this small moment.
+ pairing: hwang hyunjin x female reader + genre: angst, enemies to lovers, apocalypse!au + warnings: mentions of weapons, wounds, implied poor hygiene conditions, seungmin is sick, let me know if i am missing something + word count: 0.7k + requested as part of my Drabble Event #2 + summary: There is always a time when a tough choice has to be made. However, you didn’t expect to get help from the one who always disagreed with everything you said or did. + lia’s note: Hello, how are you? This piece is something I’d like to explore in the future somehow. It reminds me of ya dystopian which is the genre that made me fall in love with reading and only increased my love for writing. Please, like/reblog this if you enjoy reading it and let me know your thoughts through an ask if you feel like it! As always, happy reading!
The light that prickled through the windows wasn’t enough to light up the small space. The air smelled of gunpowder, sweat, and the last meal you all shared. No one dared to speak about the obvious, but the thought was in the air and hidden in the way you glanced at one another.
“We should talk about it,” you said, sitting on one of the wood boxes nearby, scratching the back of your neck. Everyone turned to look at you, wary of what you were about to say. “We need more supplies and food too. What we have won’t last us more than a few days. Besides,” you glanced at the opposite side of the room where someone laid on the cold floor, their breathing frail, “we need to find something to help him with the fever. There’s a couple of old pharmacies nearby, I’m sure we can…”
“You’re not possibly suggesting we go overground, are you?” You took a deep breath and glanced at him. He crossed his arms and shook his head. “It’s still not safe out there.”
“It will never be safe out there anymore, Hyunjin. Don’t you get that?” You stood up and wiped your hands on your dirty trousers. “The food we have might last us two more days, even if we eat only the essentials. Without any medication, Seungmin won’t survive much longer. And I know this place very well. It used to be my home.” You turned to face everyone else and gulped, your heartbeat increasing in your chest. “I… I’ll go.”
Murmurs erupted in the small crowd, but you knew none of them would volunteer to go instead of you. Still, even if you voted on who would go, you would probably be one of their choices.
“You won’t survive out there,” Hyunjin said. “You can’t aim a gun, you’re weak… how do you expect to carry food and supplies here on your own?”
Whether Hyunjin was mocking you, you couldn’t be entirely sure. The truth was, the two of you never got along very well, and often your values and opinions collided with one another. You didn’t understand how he could only think about himself. Even here, despite everything that was happening, he didn’t see the grand scheme of things. Still, you weren’t going to spend your energy arguing with him. It was no use.
“I’m not asking you to come with me. And if I don’t survive, there’s one less person to eat, right? That should make the food last a little longer for all of you…”
You moved past him and started to prepare your weapons to go to the surface. It wasn’t a task you were pleased about, but it had to be done. You picked up a few guns, feeling their weight on your hand before checking whether they had enough ammunition for you to carry.
After a while, Hyunjin joined you and, after glancing at the table in front of you, he extended a gun your way, not looking you in the eyes.
“This one’s better for you. It has less kickback and it works best with how you usually shoot and aim.” You glanced between the gun and his expression, biting your lower lip. When you didn’t accept the weapon, Hyunjin grabbed your arm and turned your palm upwards, placing the handle on your hand. “I don’t want you to die, Y/N.”
“I’m glad to know you still have consciousness,” you said sarcastically as you saved the gun in its pouch on your waist. You lifted your ways to look at him, serious and determined. “I’ll be back.”
“I’ll go with you.” He bit his lower lip and ruffled his hair, fixing it right after. It was too long now, he needed a bandana to keep it away from his eyes. “You may know how to move around on the surface, but you still need someone to help you out. Besides, I can help you carry stuff and… keep you out of trouble. I’m sure Felix can keep order while we’re away.”
You weren’t sure if Hyunjin was worried about you, but you weren’t going to be stupid and deny his help. He was right, you needed someone’s help. And from everyone around, he was the one better qualified to go with you.
“Fine,” you said, looking him in the eyes. “But when it comes to locations, you follow my lead. When it comes to cover and safety, I’ll follow your lead. We have to trust each other if we want to survive.” You gulped, knowing that your next statement would be too honest for you to pretend you weren’t saying it out loud. “I want to survive, Hyunjin. With you.”
+ pairing: lee felix x female reader + genre: fluff, best friends!au, apple picking!au, non-idol!au + warnings: none + word count: 0.8k + requested as part of my Drabble Event #2 + summary: Apple picking was something you looked forward to every year. After all, you got to spend the day with your best friend and that made up for how tiring the task was. + lia’s note: Hello, I hope you’re doing well! This one is super cute, I had a good time writing it! 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!
You and Felix made your way through the apple trees, feeling the sweet scent every step of the way. Everyone around you was hard at work, completely focused on their task. It was no easy feat, but in the right company, it was certainly easier.
“It’s a beautiful day today, isn’t it?” Felix asked after putting down your empty container and looking up at the sky. The morning light pierced through the branches and greeted your skin softly. Thankfully, today the weather was nice and the soft breeze that blew kept the heat away.
“It’s a beautiful day indeed,” you said and fixed your hat, smiling at him. “Shall we get to work?”
“Of course!”
It didn’t take long for you and Felix to get fully absorbed in the task at hand. You carefully picked the apples from the tree, wiping them softly before placing them in the container. Every once in a while, the two of you would reach out for the same apple and when your hands met, you’d let out a soft giggle and spend a good minute trying to figure out who would pick the chosen apple.
“Go ahead,” you said as you gestured to the apple.
“No,you go ahead.”
More often than not, you’d be the one picking the apple while Felix moved to another tree or another apple to keep your flow of work uninterrupted. The two of you chatted about the most random things as you did this, occasionally breaking into a song whenever silence became boring.
Despite how tiring today would be, you loved doing it with Felix. It was a small tradition you had ever since you were children. Your parents tended to bring you with them and, instead of helping around the fruit farm, you’d run and hide behind trees, sometimes stealing apples and eating them right away in secret.
This place had seen the two of you grow up and no matter how apart you were or what was going on with your lives, you always knew that this was something that you’d never skip. And so, year after year, the two of you kept coming back to pick up apples together and spend a wonderful day in each other’s company.
“So…” He said as the two of you moved away from the trees, carrying the heavy container towards the small carrier nearby. “How many apples do you think we’ll catch this year? Think we’ll beat last year’s record?”
This was another part of your tradition, trying to outdo your previous record. It gave you no prize or award to catch more apples, but the pride and joy the two of you felt were worth it. Besides, the one that failed to guess the number of apples you picked together had to pay for dinner. And for two years in a row, it had been Felix’s turn.
“I think we’ll break the record but I won’t say by how much just yet.” Felix rolled his eyes and you let out a soft chuckle gesturing with your head to the carrier in front of you. “Shall we place the container there on three?” Felix nodded. “One, two, and…”
The two of you placed the container on the carrier with some effort and afterwards, you wiped your hands on your jeans, glancing around to see which area you should tackle next.
“Do you want to rest for a bit? What about we lay under some trees for a while?”
“Do you think they’d be ok with that?” You scanned the crowd, noticing everyone hard at work.
“It’s not like we haven’t done it before.” He reached his hand for yours. “Come on, let’s hide for a bit.”
As much as you wanted to say no to him, you didn’t want to skip out on the fun. This only happened once a year and being a little mischievous was also part of the tradition.
You grabbed Felix’s hand and it didn’t take long before the two of you started to move away from the crowd of people and disappeared in between the apple trees to where no one would find you for a while.
After walking for a bit, Felix and you sat side by side under a tree and you took a deep breath, closing your eyes. His arm wrapped around your shoulders and he pulled you closer to him, making you smile. This time, when the silence took over, instead of trying to fill it, you embraced it.
This was wonderful and peaceful.
“We’ll do this again next year?” Felix asked in a low voice and you nodded, looking at him.
“We have to. It’s almost like our personal New Year’s day.”
He hummed and sighed, resting his head on your shoulder. This was your favourite day of the year. Apple picking with your best friend. You laughed with him, you rolled your eyes at him, and you listened to him as well.
It was a small celebration of your friendship, one you looked forward to every year because spending time with Felix was one of the things you enjoyed the most in this world.
+ pairing: han jisung x female reader + genre: angst, fluff, suggestive, exes to ??, college!au, badboy!jisung + warnings: mentions of drinking, reader is slightly intoxicated, let me know if i am missing something + word count: 1.5k + requested as part of my Drabble Event #2 + summary:You knew Jisung’s promises tended to be empty and after what happened, you swore you would never be his again. However, it’s never too late to change, or is it? + lia’s note: Hello, how are you? So this drabble is very angsty, I’d say. I hope you enjoy reading it, I enjoyed writing it! Please, like/reblog this if you enjoy reading it and let me know your thoughts through an ask if you feel like it! As always, happy reading!
The party wasn’t as fun as you wanted it to be. Despite the music playing and everyone’s efforts to keep you entertained, the truth was you were having a hard time. These kinds of places always reminded you of Jisung and he was someone you wanted to avoid and forget.
However, that was proving to be harder than you’d like to admit.
You still saw him on the campus grounds and whenever your eyes met, you had to look away and continue to walk. You couldn’t bear the pain in his eyes, but you also didn’t want to bear it. It was probably an act to him like most of your relationship had been. Did he ever love you or were you too enamoured to see the red flags?
Whenever the two of you crossed paths he’d try to talk to you. He’d try to say that he had changed and that he was willing to give all of what you had another try. Part of you wanted to give in and accept his offer, accept his words. But whenever you were about to do it, images of what had happened popped into your head.
It wasn’t worth it. He wasn’t worth it. And yet, you couldn’t stop thinking about all of it.
As the party went on, you grew slightly tipsier. Whether it was your need to forget or your desire to enjoy a cold beverage, you weren’t sure. Your thoughts started to get muffled together, your words slurred. Even the music sounded slower and your dance moves were heavy and erratic. Your heart jumped in your chest and when your eyes landed on Jisung on the other side of the dance floor, you stopped what you were doing, unable to look away from him.
Tonight, he was alone. He leaned on the wall and sipped on his drink, raising his cup to whoever greeted him on his way to the upper floor. For a while, he was oblivious to your eyes on him. But just like when you were dating, he always found you. No matter how big the crowd, Jisung always found you.
When he started to make his way towards you, you considered turning around and joining your friends near the beer pong game happening, but you couldn’t. You waited for him to join you, watching as the lights changed and greeted his features, amazed at how he looked good under every single one of them. Han Jisung was certainly breathtaking.
“Hi.”
You didn’t hear his voice but you read his lips. For the first time in a while, you pondered what it would be like to kiss him again. You wondered what it would be like to feel his arms around your waist as he kissed your skin, wanting you to be his. Had that been an act too? Part of you didn’t want to believe that tonight. Not now when he was this close to you.
“I’ve missed you,” you said, licking your lips as you stumbled towards him, a crooked smile appearing on your face. “I’ve missed you so much, Jisung. I’m so sorry, I…”
Your hands quickly found the back of his neck and you tried to pull him closer to you, but Jisung tensed up under your touch and shook his head.
“You don’t want this, Y/N.”
“How do you know?” You said, rolling your eyes. “You don’t know me. You don’t know what Iwant!”
“You’re drunk. I don’t… I don’t want you to do something you might regret later.”
You couldn’t help but laugh at him. Since when had Jisung started to care about your feelings? Since when did it matter to him what you felt? This had to be the funniest joke you had heard all night.
“You’re funny,” you booped his nose, not letting go of his neck. When your eyes found his, you expected them to be happy and eager for something, but this time, they were sad and cautious. You sighed. “Why aren’t you happy tonight?”
He pursed his lips and studied your expression carefully, his hand brushing softly against your cheek. You slowly grabbed it and intertwined your fingers together, a wave of electricity greeting you abruptly. His touch was certainly something else and you craved it more each day you were apart. And yet tonight, Jisung didn’t want it. Or maybe he didn’t want you. He probably had his eyes on someone else.
“It’s not just unhappiness,” he said over the loud music and let go of your hand, shaking his head. “I’m upset and disappointed with what I did to you.”
“We can move on from that, Jisung.” You tried to get closer to him again, to grab his hand, to pull him closer, but he stopped you. “We can…”
He started to walk away from you and towards the front door of the house and you followed him with wobbly steps. When you were outside, the music pounded behind you and you stopped briefly to consider whether or not you should go back inside. However, you found yourself climbing down the stairs towards Jisung as he messed his hair and paced around the empty road.
“We can chat about it.” You shoved your hands in your pockets and started to make your way toward him. “I’m not thatdrunk.”
“But you don’t want to chat for the right reasons right now. I know what you want right now.”
“And that is…”
Jisung pondered for a while. He glanced at the houses around the two of you as he ruffled his hair, somewhat desperate. You sighed and lowered your head, unsure of what to do or say. Maybe he was right, maybe you wanted to chat for the wrong reasons. Maybe you would say yes to everything he’d say to you in hopes that would get you closer to him, even if it was just for one night.
“I know you, Y/N. I notice the way you look at me. I know what alcohol does to you. You become touchy, emotional, needy. Trust me this time when I say you don’t want that. We’d both regret it.”
“Why would you regret it?” You chuckled as your heart sunk in your chest. “You’re done with me, aren’t you? You’ve found someone else now and they’re probably better than me, right? Where is she right now?” You started to look around trying to locate someone in the shadows or inside a car or just leaning on a picket fence. “Where is she, Jisung?”
“There hasn’t been anyone after you.” His voice was sombre and a chill went down your spine. You wanted to blame it on the wind, but when your eyes turned to look at him, you knew he was the one that caused it. “I have been trying to be a better person. Words mean nothing when you have nothing to back them up with. But I have been trying, Y/N.”
“Why?” That was the only word that left your lips whenever you spoke with Jisung tonight. “You could have anyone, you don’t have to change. After all-”
“Don’t you understand that I love you?” He took a deep breath and started to pace around, avoiding looking at you. “When we were together, I took you for granted. And then, I messed up what we had and that made me realise that I… I love you. I don’t think I have ever loved anyone as I love you right now.” He stopped pacing and turned around to look at you, heartbroken. “And sometimes, loving someone means to keep your distance from them, even when you don’t want to. More than anything I want to show you that I have changed and that I am willing to wait until you’re fully sober for us to talk about this. For to talk about… us.”
You couldn’t say anything to him. You got lost in his eyes, in this foolish hope that kept on growing in your chest and that you were expecting to burst at any moment, disappearing in a matter of seconds. However, that didn’t happen. This foolish hope refused to burst.
When you didn’t answer him, he shook his head and started to walk towards the party. He kept his eyes on his feet and a regretful expression he tried to conceal with a sad smile. This was why your hope hadn’t burst. This was why it kept growing.
This time, Jisung was giving you something more than his empty promises. He was doing what he told you he would do: he was making an effort to be a better person. And right now, as much as you wanted to tell him that it didn’t matter, this mattered to you more than anything he had ever done to you.
“Thank you,” you said and he stopped on his way up the stairs to look at you. You nodded. “We’ll talk about… us some other day. I’ll… text you?”
“Call me.” He smiled softly at you and you couldn’t help but reciprocate the gesture. “I like the sound of your voice. Good night, Y/N.”
You blamed the alcohol in your system for making all of your thoughts slower and your reactions delayed. Still, despite all of that, one thing was for sure: this time, you would trust Jisung.
+ pairing: han jisung x female reader + genre: fluff, attempted humour, best friends (idiots) to lovers, non-idol!au, confession!au + warnings: mentions of food, reader LOVES chocolate cake, reader almost chokes on a piece of cake, let me know if i am missing something + word count: 0.7k + requested as part of my Drabble Event #2 + summary: Your love for chocolate cake is quite massive, but there might be a certain someone you love more than this incredible piece of heaven. + lia’s note: Hello, how are you? I hope you have fun with this one. It’s definitely on the goofy side and I had a lot of fun writing it! I hope you enjoy reading it as well! Please, like/reblog this if you enjoy reading it and let me know your thoughts through an ask if you feel like it! As always, happy reading!
Jisung held your hand as he guided you through the busy street and inside a small bakery. As soon as you stepped in, the smell of freshly baked goods surrounded you and you took a deep breath, smiling in delight.
“I heard they have the best chocolate cake in town and…”
Chocolate cake. At the sound of those words, you scanned the bakery display with all of your attention, reading the labels on the different cakes and pastries until you landed on your target.
“Chocolate cake…”
You let go of Jisung’s hand and walked closer to the display, completely enamoured by the cake. It looked delicious and your mouth was already watering at the thought of having a slice. If there was something you absolutely loved was chocolate cake: the texture, the taste, the smell. Everything made your senses tingle and you were on a life mission to find the best chocolate cake of your life.
“Thank you,” you said to Jisung and offered him a smile and a wink, “for continuing to help me on this mission!”
He let out a soft giggle and made the order for both of you. Jisung also asked for a slice of chocolate cake which meant he was willing to spend half an hour of his life hearing you talk about chocolate cake and how much you loved it. You didn’t know why he did it but you weren’t complaining. His company was the best and you wouldn’t trade it for anyone else’s. Not even for a slice of chocolate cake.
After the two of you found a table near one of the windows, you sat down and it didn’t take long for you to grab your phone to take pictures of your chocolate cake slice. You smiled the entire time, taking it from different angles that truly highlighted the beauty and delicacy of this piece of heaven.
“Ah,” you said, pointing to your slice of cake, “I want someone to look at me and care about me the way I look and care about chocolate cake. That is the dream!”
Jisung laughed again, messing his hair afterwards and glancing around the small place where a soft melody played to fill the silence.
“It’s a nice dream…” Jisung sighed and gulped. He ruffled his hair again and you glanced between him and the chocolate cake, unable to resist taking a bite. As soon as the piece of cake was about to reach your mouth, Jisung added, “What if I want to make it happen?”
“What?” You shoved the piece of cake in your mouth and at the explosion of flavour, you closed your eyes, enjoying every bit of it. “Oh my God… This is sogood.”
You could cry about how delicious this cake was. The velvety texture melted in your mouth and the flavour wasn’t too sweet nor too bitter. It was perfect.
“Isn’t it obvious that I want to date you?”
Your eyes widened in shock and you almost choked on the piece of cake you were enjoying. Jisung quickly got up from his seat and came to pat your back, helping you calm down and regain your composure. Did he say what you thought he had said?
“What did you just say?” You said, lifting your eyes to look at him, perplexed. “Did you say you wanted to date me?”
“Yes.” He nodded. “If I haven’t made it clear, I do like you and I want to date… you.”
You nodded, unsure how to form a coherent sentence to express your feelings. Inside of your head, you were jumping, screaming in excitement, shaking your legs up in the air. Here, however, you could only look into Jisung’s eyes as you tried to calm your heart down and remind yourself that you couldn’t stare at him for the rest of eternity. Or at least, now you could.
“Hm… the chocolate cake is good,” you said and shook your head right after. Could you for once in your life stop thinking about chocolate cake? You cleared your throat and glanced back at Jisung. “What I’m trying to say is that the chocolate cake is good, but this is much better. So much better. I mean it.”
And you meant it. Chocolate cake was great and all, but being loved and cared for by Jisung? Oh, that was divine.
this is a fic i had been working on for a while before my uh,,,ahem, relapse, so I never got to publishing it. it’s still not done and i don’t know when exactly it will be, so i thought i’d give a lil sneak peek just for funsies until it is to be published in its entirety. nonetheless. have fun reading. i miss you guys. not sure when i’ll be back quite yet, but i love you all <3
“What about now?” you asked. “Still want to eat me?”
“Yes.”
Biting your lip, you nodded. “Let me rephrase: will you eat me?”
He smirked. “Maybe.”
Sighing in relief, you let out a quiet laugh. “Well that’s good, I suppose. I’ll just keep in mind not to get into the water then.” Though you had no intention of ever doing that to begin with.
Silence washed over you like the waves that surrounded you, leaving you feeling unsure and only slightly unsettled. Yet you wouldn’t say it was entirelyuncomfortable.
