Necrozica - Lizzie

some recent gallagher honkai star rail sketches/wips bc i got back into playing the game and the brainrot hit me hard 🫶

Your Daily Reminder to Click for Palestine!

me n who

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how you can help palestine

*i regularly update this post with any new info i find so please always reblog the original post*

Donations

palestine children's relief fund

palestine red crescent society

help bring down israel's weapon trade - palaction

save palestine - islamic relief canada

click to donate - arab.org

send medical supplies to gaza - palestinian american medical association

NOTE: journalists based in gaza are saying that donations are not going to help atm. what will help is a demand for ceasefire. so please contact your local MPs every single day demanding as such. palestine need a ceasefire right now, not money (i will update when monetary help is needed)

if you want to donate, do this instead:

help buy e-sims for people in gaza so they may remain in contact with the outside world

Petitions

petition to investigate war crimes committed by israeli military

demand ceasefire - amnesty.org

open call for immediate ceasefire

american government call for immediate ceasefire

american government to stop funding israeli military

ceasefire and increase humanitarian assistance - oxfam au

location specific petitions

gaza call for ceasefire - oxfam (UK)

end israeli occupation - parliament uk (UK)

email your MP - medical aid for palestine (UK)

stop fuelling genocide - action network (USA)

call congress and demand a ceasefire - uscpr (USA - they provide a script of what you should say, so don't worry about it)

note: you can call everyday. they tally the number of calls per issue. so more calls = higher chance for them to take action. p.s. you mainly go to voicemail so don’t worry about phone call anxiety. fight through it just this once please.

australia call on israel to stop attacking palestinians - apan (AUS)

sign to send letter to MP for ceasefire - nccm (CANADA)

ceasefire now! - ijv (CANADA)

cessez-le-feu et un couloir humanitaire - le mouvement (FRANCE)

write to your député - assemblée nationale (FRANCE)

skydda civilbefolkningen i gaza! - mittskifte (SWEDEN)

singaporeans call for immediate ceasefire (SIN)

contact your elected reps and demand a ceasefire (GERMANY)

write to the EU demanding a ceasefire (EUROPE)

template of letters you can send (EU)

guide on how to contact your MPs in EU

multiple actions you can take to help palestine - plant een olifbloom (NETHERLANDS)

includes: links for donations, emails to MP, emails to media, links to petitions and demonstrations

den haag, maak nú werk van vrede in israël/Palestina - the right forum (NETHERLANDS)

Campaigns

friends of al-aqsa

❥ UK-specific

urge your MP to speak up for palestine

hands off al-aqsa

stop administrative detention

petition for UK to stop arming israel

❥ International

boycott puma — email them to end their partnership with israel

boycott coca-cola

palestine action

join the resistance

islamic relief canada

urge your MP to rally for ceasefire

text campaign for people living in USA

text CEASEFIRE @ 51905 to call for a ceasefire

BDS movement

get involved in boycotting companies associated with israel

please let me know if you have any more links. i will add them in. and please reblog the original post!!

UPCOMING PROTESTS

PALESTINIAN LITERATURE READING LIST

theres a whole new dynamic here

"I'd break bones to keep you safe"

Felix x ex-military! male! Bodyguard! reader

Part three!

Summary: Being a famous idol came with its own risks and threats.. Which is why Chan hired a bodyguard with experience. And a certain someone falls for the protective man.

Warnings: None

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺       ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺  . ✦

The cold concrete floor was the last thing you remembered before everything went dark. The weight of the support beams, the searing pain in your arm and shoulder, and the deafening roar of the crowd above—it all blurred into a haze of exhaustion and agony.

When you came to, the world was a blur of fluorescent lights and muffled voices. The steady beep of a heart monitor punctuated the silence. You blinked slowly, your body heavy and unresponsive, as the sterile smell of antiseptic filled your nose.

The hospital room was quiet, save for the rhythmic beeping of the heart monitor and the hum of machines. Sterile white walls surrounded you, and the faint smell of antiseptic lingered in the air. Your body felt heavy, weighed down by pain and exhaustion. Your shoulder and arm were immobilized in a sling, your ribs tightly wrapped in bandages. The fractured collarbone and bruised ribs made every breath a struggle, while the deep gash on your forearm throbbed beneath layers of stitches.

Between each visit, you were left alone with your thoughts. The silence was deafening, amplifying the turmoil inside you.

 You replayed the moment under the stage—the creaking beams, the crushing weight, the sharp pain—and wondered if you could’ve done more to prevent it. You thought about how close you’d come to failing, to letting Chan’s platform collapse, to letting them down.

The guilt gnawed at you. You had protected them this time, but what about next time? What if you weren’t there? What if you weren’t strong enough?

Still, as each member entered the room, you pushed those thoughts aside. They needed comfort as much as you did.

Chan entered first, his footsteps hesitant as though he was afraid of disturbing you. His face was pale, his eyes red-rimmed from lack of sleep. He sat down beside your bed without saying a word at first, his hand gripping yours tightly.

“You shouldn’t have done it alone,” he said finally, his voice low but firm.

You smiled weakly and reached out with your good arm to pull him into a one-armed hug. 

“I didn’t have a choice,” you replied softly.

His jaw tightened as he looked away, his knuckles white from how hard he was holding your hand.

“You always put yourself on the line for us,” he said, his voice breaking slightly. “But what happens if one day we lose you?”

You squeezed his hand gently. “You won’t,” you assured him.

His lips quivered as he fought back tears. “Promise me,” he whispered.

“I promise,” you said softly.

When his tears began to fall, you gently wiped them away with your free hand. He stayed for a while longer before reluctantly leaving with one last squeeze of your hand and a quiet promise: “Rest up. We need you.”

Minho entered next with his usual stoic expression, though it didn’t hide the worry in his eyes. He stood at the foot of your bed for a moment before pulling up a chair and sitting down.

“You’re an idiot,” he said bluntly, his tone sharp but trembling slightly.

You chuckled weakly despite the pain it caused. “Thanks.”

Minho shook his head and leaned forward slightly. 

“You scared all of us,” he admitted quietly. “We thought… we thought we lost you.”

You reached out with your good hand and gently grasped his hand, squeezing it reassuringly. “I’m still here,” you replied softly.

His lips pressed into a thin line as he nodded quickly, blinking back tears before they could fall.

“Don’t do that again,” he muttered before standing up abruptly and leaving with a stiff nod.

Changbin burst into the room with an exaggerated sigh, trying to mask his worry with forced cheerfulness. He plopped into the chair beside your bed and crossed his arms dramatically.

“You’re really something else,” he said with mock frustration. “Always trying to be the hero.”

“Someone has to keep you guys out of trouble,” you teased weakly.

His grin faltered as his shoulders slumped slightly. “I hate seeing you like this,” he admitted quietly. “You’re always so strong… it’s hard seeing you hurt.”

You wrapped your good arm around him in a gentle hug. “I’ll be fine,” you assured him despite the pain radiating through your body.

Changbin stayed longer than most, cracking jokes and telling stories in an effort to distract both himself and you from the weight of the situation. When he finally left, he patted your shoulder gently and said with uncharacteristic seriousness, “Get better soon.”

Hyunjin hesitated at the door before walking in slowly, his usual confident demeanor replaced with visible anxiety. He sat down beside your bed but avoided meeting your gaze at first.

“I… I didn’t know if I should come in,” he admitted quietly.

You smiled softly and reached out to gently grasp his hand. “You should,” you replied softly.

Hyunjin’s lips trembled as he looked at you properly for the first time. “When I saw you collapse… I thought…” He trailed off, swallowing hard as tears welled up in his eyes.

You squeezed his hand reassuringly. “I’m still here,” you said weakly.

Hyunjin nodded quickly, wiping at his face with his sleeve before anger flashed across his features.

“You shouldn’t have had to do that alone,” he said bitterly. “We should’ve noticed something was wrong sooner.”

“You couldn’t have known,” you assured him gently as you wiped away his tears with your free hand.

He stayed for a while longer before leaving with one last glance over his shoulder: “Thank you—for everything.”

Han burst into the room with tears already streaming down his face despite clearly trying to hold them back. His sobs were loud enough that a nurse peeked in briefly before leaving him be.

“Why do you always have to push yourself so hard?” he demanded through choked sobs as he stood at the foot of your bed.

You reached out with your good hand and gently grasped his hand, pulling him into a one-armed hug. “Because someone has to,” you replied softly.

Han wiped at his face furiously but couldn’t stop crying as he sat down beside you. “You scared me so much,” he admitted shakily. “I thought we were going to lose you.”

You gently wiped away his tears with your free hand and whispered: “I’m not going anywhere.”

Han stayed until a nurse came in to check on you before reluctantly leaving after making sure everything was fine.

Felix entered carrying a small bouquet of flowers that looked slightly wilted from being clutched too tightly. His usual bright smile was nowhere to be seen; instead, his lips quivered as he sat down beside you.

“You’re too stubborn for your own good,” he said shakily.

“Takes one to know one,” you replied weakly with a faint smile.

Felix’s eyes filled with tears as he reached out to hold your hand gently. “Don’t ever scare us like that again,” he whispered fiercely. “Promise me.”

You squeezed his hand reassuringly and wiped away his tears when they began falling freely down his cheeks: "I'll try."

You chatted for a bit before Felix left the room.

Seungmin entered quietly, his footsteps soft as he approached your bed. His usual calm demeanor was replaced by visible worry; his lips were pressed into a thin line, and his hands fidgeted nervously at his sides.

“You look terrible,” he said bluntly, though his voice trembled slightly.

You chuckled weakly despite the pain it caused. “Thanks for the honesty.”

Seungmin pulled up a chair and sat down beside you, his gaze fixed on your bandaged arm. “I was so scared,” he admitted softly after a moment of silence. “When I saw you collapse… I didn’t know what to do.”

You reached out with your good hand and gently grasped his, squeezing it reassuringly. “I’m okay,” you said softly.

Seungmin shook his head, blinking rapidly to keep tears from falling. “You always say that,” he muttered bitterly. “But you’re not okay—you’re hurt because of us.”

“It’s not your fault,” you said firmly, your voice steady despite your exhaustion. “I did what I had to do.”

He looked away, his jaw tightening as he fought to keep his emotions in check. “I don’t know what we’d do without you,” he whispered.

“You’ll never have to find out,” you replied gently.

When a tear finally slipped down his cheek, you reached out with your free hand and wiped it away carefully. Seungmin stayed for a while longer, talking about how they’d all been worried sick and how they’d make sure nothing like this ever happened again. Before leaving, he squeezed your hand one last time and whispered, “Get better soon.”

Jeongin hesitated at the door for a long moment before finally stepping inside. His usual playful energy was nowhere to be seen; instead, he looked nervous and unsure as he approached your bed.

“I… I didn’t know if I should come in,” he admitted quietly.

“You should,” you said gently.

Jeongin sat down beside you but avoided meeting your gaze at first. His hands were clenched tightly in his lap, and his shoulders were stiff with tension.

“It’s my fault,” he blurted suddenly, tears already streaming down his face. “If I hadn’t shown you that email… if I hadn’t panicked…”

“Stop,” you interrupted firmly despite your exhaustion. You reached out with your good hand and gently grasped his trembling hand. “None of this is your fault.”

Jeongin shook his head vehemently, guilt etched deeply into his features. “But if I hadn’t told you—”

“You did exactly what you were supposed to do,” you said gently but firmly. “You told me about the threat so I could act.”

He sniffled and nodded silently but still looked unconvinced. You pulled him into a one-armed hug, letting him cry quietly against your shoulder.

“I thought we were going to lose you,” he whispered shakily.

“You won’t lose me,” you promised softly as you wiped away the tears streaking down his cheeks.

Jeongin stayed for a short while longer before reluctantly leaving with a promise that he’d work harder to protect everyone—including you.

As the member left, the silence returned—heavy and suffocating. You stared at the ceiling, replaying their words in your mind: “We thought we lost you.”, “You shouldn’t have done it alone.”, “You scared us.”

The guilt gnawed at you relentlessly. You had protected them this time, but what about next time? What if something happened while you weren’t there? What if this injury meant you couldn’t protect them anymore?

You clenched your good hand into a fist as frustration bubbled up inside you. You hated feeling helpless—hated being confined to this bed while they faced the world without you.

As visiting hours ended and each member left reluctantly, Felix returned later that night carrying a blanket tucked under one arm and a determined expression on his face.

“I’m not leaving tonight,” he announced firmly as he pulled up a chair beside your bed and draped himself in the blanket like armor against exhaustion.

“Felix…”

“No arguments.” His tone left no room for debate as he clasped your hand tightly again and settled in for what would be an unspoken vigil through the night—a silent promise that no matter what happened next, someone would be there when morning came again.

Felix talked softly about random things—funny rehearsal moments, inside jokes—but eventually fell quiet as fatigue caught up with him. He rested his head on the edge of your bed but kept holding onto your hand like it was a lifeline.

As sleep overtook him, you felt a small sense of relief wash over you—not just because someone was there but because Felix’s presence reminded you that even in moments of weakness, they would always have your back too.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺       ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺  . ✦

The weeks of recovery felt endless. Every stretch in physical therapy was a battle, every movement a reminder of the beams that had crushed you. The fractured collarbone, bruised ribs, and stitched gash on your arm were constant aches that weighed on your body and mind. You couldn’t shake the guilt—the fear that next time, you might not be able to protect them.

But you pushed through. 

You forced yourself to endure the pain, knowing that they were waiting for you. Their visits kept you grounded—Felix’s overnight stays, Chan’s quiet encouragement, Han’s tearful reassurances—they reminded you why you had held on so long that night.

Finally, after weeks of effort, the sling came off, the bandages were removed, and you were cleared to return to work. Walking into their dorms for the first time since the incident felt surreal.

The smell of food hit you as soon as you stepped inside—warm and inviting, a mix of grilled meat and spices that made your stomach growl despite yourself. Laughter echoed from the kitchen, followed by the clatter of plates and utensils.

“Jagae’s here!” Felix’s voice rang out as he spotted you at the door.

Before you could respond, Hyunjin appeared from around the corner with an apron tied haphazardly over his clothes. “You’re late,” he said with mock sternness, though his grin betrayed him.

“Blame traffic,” you replied dryly as he ushered you inside.

The dining table was packed with food—kimchi stew, bulgogi, japchae, rice bowls—and everyone was bustling around setting up plates and glasses. Han was trying (and failing) to balance a stack of bowls while Jeongin hurried to grab them before they fell.

“Careful!” Seungmin scolded from across the room. “We don’t need another accident.”

“I’ve got it!” Han protested just as Jeongin snatched the bowls from his hands.

Chan stood at the head of the table, directing everyone like a conductor orchestrating a symphony. 

“Hyunjin, stop eating before we start,” he said without looking up as Hyunjin tried to sneak a piece of meat off the grill.

“I’m taste-testing!” Hyunjin argued indignantly.

“You’re stealing,” Minho corrected flatly as he carried a tray of drinks to the table.

You couldn’t help but smile at the chaos as Felix pulled out a chair for you. “Sit here,” he said brightly. “You’re the guest of honor tonight.”

“I’m not a guest,” you replied with a laugh as you took your seat.

“You are tonight,” Chan said firmly as he sat down at the head of the table. “This is for you.”

As everyone settled in and began serving themselves, the teasing started almost immediately.

“Hyunjin almost burned down the kitchen earlier,” Han said with a grin.

“I did not!” Hyunjin shot back, his cheeks flushing red. “It was just… slightly overcooked.”

“Overcooked?” Minho raised an eyebrow. “It looked like charcoal.”

Hyunjin glared at him but couldn’t suppress his laughter when Minho smirked triumphantly.

Between bites of food and bursts of laughter, subtle moments of gratitude emerged.

“It’s good to have you back,” Chan said quietly during a lull in conversation.

Changbin raised his glass dramatically. “A toast to Jagae—the human shield who saved us all!”

“Don’t make it sound like I’m invincible,” you joked lightly.

“You kind of are,” Felix said earnestly from across the table, his eyes shining with sincerity.

Hyunjin nodded in agreement. “You didn’t hesitate for even a second back there.”

Seungmin added softly from beside you, “You always put us first.”

Jeongin looked down at his plate but murmured quietly, “Thank you—for everything.”

Their words settled warmly in your chest, easing some of the lingering guilt that had haunted you since that night.

As dinner wound down and plates were cleared away, Chan brought out dessert—a simple cake decorated with strawberries—and placed it in front of you.

“It’s not much,” he said sheepishly, “but we wanted to celebrate your return properly.”

You stared at the cake for a moment before looking around at them—their smiles warm and genuine—and felt an overwhelming sense of belonging wash over you.

“Thank you,” you said softly.

“No thanks needed,” Changbin replied with a grin. “You’re one of us now.”

As they began cutting slices of cake and arguing over who got the biggest piece, Felix leaned over and nudged your arm gently. “You okay?”

“I am now,” you replied honestly.

For the first time in weeks, you felt at peace—not just because your body was healing but because these eight people had become more than just idols under your protection. They were family.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺       ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺  . ✦

After dinner, the group decided to watch a horror movie together. The lights were dimmed, and the TV flickered to life, casting eerie shadows on the walls. Felix plopped down beside you on the couch, leaning comfortably against your non-injured shoulder.

“Felix, you’re going to get scared,” Han teased from across the room.

Felix grinned defiantly. “I’m not scared of anything.”

But as the movie progressed, it became clear that he was indeed scared. Every jump scare made him jump, his reactions loud and exaggerated as he clutched at your arm for comfort. The others laughed good-naturedly at his expense, but even they weren’t immune to the scares. Minho let out a startled yelp at one particularly intense scene, while Hyunjin covered his eyes during a gruesome moment.

You, however, remained calm throughout, a small smile playing on your lips as you watched the chaos unfold around you. It was almost amusing to see them all so on edge, their usual bravado replaced by nervous laughter and startled gasps.

“Jagae’s not even flinching,” Seungmin observed with a chuckle.

“Of course not,” Changbin replied dryly. “He’s the human shield. Nothing scares him.”

Felix leaned in closer, his voice barely above a whisper. “You’re not even scared, are you?”

You shook your head slightly. “Not really.”

He looked up at you with wide eyes. “How do you do it? You’re always so calm.”

You shrugged, trying to downplay it. “Just experience, I guess.”

But deep down, you knew it was more than that. You had faced real danger, not just movie monsters. The memories of that night under the support beam still lingered, a reminder of what true fear felt like. This was just entertainment—a way for them to bond and have fun together.

“Thanks for being my rock,” he said softly.

You smiled back at him. “Anytime.”

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺       ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺  . ✦

The movie had ended, but Felix hadn’t moved. He was still nestled against your chest, his soft breaths steady as he slept soundly. The others were sprawled across the dorm, recovering from the adrenaline rush of jump scares and laughter. The teasing had been relentless during the movie, but now the room had settled into a calm, almost intimate atmosphere.

“Look at him,” Han whispered with a grin, gesturing toward Felix. “He’s so comfortable he fell asleep.”

“Of course he did,” Hyunjin replied, smirking. “He’s practically glued to Jagae’s side.”

“Felix has been like that for weeks now,” Seungmin added softly, his tone thoughtful. “Always sticking close to him.”

Jeongin chuckled nervously. “It’s not just because of the movie. You’ve all seen it—he’s been acting like this since… well, since forever.”

You glanced down at Felix’s peaceful face, his cheek resting lightly against your chest, and felt a pang of warmth in your chest. His presence was comforting in a way you hadn’t expected.

Minho leaned back against the couch and crossed his arms, his expression unreadable. “He admires you,” he said simply, but there was a weight to his words that made everyone pause.

“Admires?” Changbin raised an eyebrow and scoffed lightly. “That’s putting it mildly.”

“Yeah,” Han chimed in, his grin widening mischievously. “I think it’s more than admiration.”

Hyunjin smirked but didn’t say anything, his eyes flickering between Felix and you. The silence stretched for a moment before Jeongin spoke up hesitantly.

“He really cares about you,” he said quietly. “More than just… you know… as our protector.”

Seungmin nodded in agreement. “It’s obvious when you think about it.”

You looked around at them, their expressions ranging from amused to serious. They weren’t teasing anymore—not really. There was something genuine in their words, something they had been holding back until now.

“I know,” you said softly.

The room fell silent again as the others stared at you in shock.

“You… knew?” Chan asked cautiously, leaning forward slightly.

You nodded and adjusted Felix gently so he wouldn’t wake up. “I picked up on it a while ago,” you admitted. “The way he looks at me, how he always tries to stay close… it wasn’t hard to figure out.”

Hyunjin blinked at you, clearly surprised. “And? What do you think about it?”

You hesitated for a moment before answering honestly. “I care about him too,” you said quietly. “He’s… special.”

The others exchanged glances, their shock giving way to understanding smiles.

“Well,” Changbin said with a grin, breaking the tension, “that explains why he’s practically glued to you all the time.”

Han snickered and leaned closer to Hyunjin. “I bet Felix would combust if he heard this right now.”

“Let him sleep,” Chan said firmly but warmly. “He deserves it after everything.”

As the conversation shifted to lighter topics, you glanced down at Felix again and couldn’t help but smile softly. His presence was comforting—not just for him but for you as well.

For now, you let him sleep peacefully against your chest while the others continued their playful banter around the room.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺       ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺  . ✦

The dance studio was alive with energy, music blasting as the members rehearsed their choreography. You leaned against the wall, arms crossed, watching them move in perfect synchronization. It was moments like these that reminded you why you worked so hard to protect them—they were a team, a family, and you had become part of that dynamic.

You excused yourself to the bathroom, leaving them mid-discussion about a minor adjustment in their routine. 

When you returned, the atmosphere in the room had shifted. The music had stopped, and the members were huddled together, their expressions tense and conflicted.

“Did something happen?” you asked as you stepped back into the room.

They turned toward you, startled by your sudden presence. Felix’s gaze dropped to the floor immediately, his shoulders slumping as though he couldn’t bear to look at you. Chan cleared his throat awkwardly but didn’t speak.

Hyunjin was the first to break the silence. “We heard… about the reassignment,” he said cautiously.

You frowned. “Reassignment?”

Seungmin nodded, his lips pressed into a thin line. “There’s talk that you might be transferred to another artist.”

“Because of how well you handled everything at the event,” Changbin added bitterly. “They think you’re too good for us now.”

Your eyes widened in surprise as Jeongin muttered under his breath, “They probably want him protecting someone bigger.”

Felix finally looked up, his expression more than disappointed—it was hurt. “Are you leaving us?” he asked softly, his voice trembling.

The room fell silent again, their gazes fixed on you as they waited for an answer. You could see it in their eyes—the fear of losing someone they had come to rely on not just for protection but for support and care.

You chuckled lightly, breaking the tension in the room. Their confusion was immediate.

“What’s funny about this?” Han asked sharply, his brows furrowing.

You shook your head and stepped closer to them. “I’m not leaving,” you said firmly.

Felix blinked at you, his lips parting slightly in shock. “You’re… staying?”

“I’m staying,” you repeated with a small smile. “I already told them I wasn’t interested in being reassigned.”

“But why?” Minho asked bluntly, his voice tinged with disbelief. “You could have anyone—any artist—under your protection.”

You glanced around at them—their worried faces, their vulnerability laid bare—and felt warmth spread through your chest. 

“Because I don’t want anyone else,” you admitted simply. “I want to stay here—with all of you.” Your gaze lingered on Felix just a little while longer.

The room erupted into a mix of relieved laughter and incredulous exclamations.

“You scared us!” Hyunjin exclaimed dramatically, throwing his hands in the air.

“I thought we were going to lose our human shield,” Changbin teased with a grin.

Felix didn’t say anything at first; instead, he stepped forward and wrapped his arms around your waist tightly. His head rested against your chest as he whispered softly, “Thank you.”

You returned the hug with one arm, careful not to strain your still-healing shoulder. “I’m not going anywhere,” you reassured him quietly.

As Felix pulled back reluctantly, Han smirked mischievously and nudged Hyunjin with his elbow. “See? Told you Felix would combust if Jagae left.”

“Shut up!” Felix snapped half-heartedly, his cheeks flushing pink as the others laughed.

Chan stepped forward then, his expression warm but serious. “We’re glad you’re staying,” he said sincerely. “You’ve become part of this family.”

“And we’d be lost without you,” Seungmin added softly.

Jeongin nodded quickly in agreement before blurting out nervously, “Felix would definitely be lost without you.”

“Jeongin!” Felix hissed in embarrassment as laughter filled the room again.

You shook your head fondly at their antics but felt your heart swell at their words. They weren’t just teasing—they were expressing how much they valued your presence and what it meant to have someone who cared about them beyond their roles as idols.

As rehearsal resumed and the music started up again, Felix stayed close by your side, occasionally glancing at you with an expression that spoke volumes even without words. You knew now that your decision to stay had been the right one—not just for them but for yourself too.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺       ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺  . ✦

The underground parking garage was suffocatingly quiet, the air damp and heavy as if it were holding its breath. 

You stood near a concrete pillar, your posture relaxed but your senses razor-sharp. The faint hum of fluorescent lights above was punctuated by the distant drip of water echoing off the walls. You had spent weeks unraveling this web of sabotage and threats, tracing every clue back to the mastermind who had endangered Stray Kids—and tonight, you would confront him. The person you've been suspicious and wary of this whole time.

Footsteps broke the silence, deliberate and slow, each one reverberating like a countdown. 

You turned toward the sound, your eyes narrowing as a familiar figure emerged from the shadows. His stature was unmistakable, tall and imposing, but his smile gave him away—the unbearable smirk you’d seen countless times in meetings. It was the kind of smile that dripped with faux-innocence and sickening kindness, underlying with condescension and arrogance, but tonight it carried a flicker of unease.

“You’ve been busy,” he said smoothly, his voice calm but laced with bitterness.

You didn’t respond immediately, letting the silence stretch as you studied him. His hand slipped into his coat pocket, and you tensed slightly but didn’t move—waiting.

“You know,” he continued, stepping closer, “you could’ve avoided all this if you’d just taken the reassignment. I even recommended you for it—personally.”

Your jaw tightened as realization crystallized. “So it was you,” you said evenly, your voice steady despite the anger simmering beneath it.

The smirk widened as he stopped a few feet away. “Of course it was me. You’re too good at your job—too inconvenient.”

“Convenient enough to protect them from you,” you shot back.

His expression darkened as he pulled out a small remote with a single red button on it. “You think you’ve won? This garage is rigged to collapse with one press of this button.”

You held his gaze steadily and replied without hesitation: “You’re bluffing.”

“Am I?” His voice rose slightly as he pressed the button.

Click!

.

.

Click! CLICK! CLICK!

.

.

.

Nothing happened.

The smirk faltered as he pressed it again—and again—his movements growing frantic. Panic flickered across his face as he realized his plan had failed.

“I disabled your charges an hour ago,” you said calmly, stepping closer. “You’re predictable.”

His composure shattered completely as he lunged at you in desperation. But you were ready. Side-stepping easily, you grabbed his arm and twisted it behind his back before slamming him against the pillar. The remote clattered to the ground.

“It’s over,” you growled into his ear as footsteps echoed through the garage. 

Security officers swarmed in moments later, their weapons drawn.

He thrashed against your grip but couldn’t break free. 

“You’ll regret this!” he spat as they cuffed him and began dragging him away.

As they hauled him off into custody, you called out after him: “Goodbye, Ji-hoon.” 

Your voice was steady but laced with finality—a dismissal that echoed through the garage like a closing door.

Back at Stray Kids’ dorms later that night, relief washed over you as soon as you stepped inside. The tension from earlier lingered in your chest, but seeing their familiar faces eased some of the weight pressing down on you.

Felix was the first to rush toward you, his eyes wide with worry. “Are you okay?” he asked breathlessly, scanning you for any sign of injury.

“I’m fine,” you assured him with a small smile.

The others quickly gathered around, their voices overlapping in a barrage of questions about what had happened.

“It’s over,” you said simply once they quieted down. “Ji-hoon has been arrested.”

Chan let out a long breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. “Thank God,” he muttered.

Hyunjin frowned slightly and crossed his arms. “You could’ve told us what you were doing.”

“And let you worry more than you already do?” You teased lightly before glancing at Felix, who hadn’t left your side since you walked in.

Felix’s gaze lingered on yours for a moment before he spoke softly: “I thought… I thought I- we might lose you.”

“You won’t lose me,” you replied firmly, stepping closer to him.

The room fell silent as Felix’s eyes searched yours for reassurance—and then something shifted between you both. Without thinking too much about it—without giving yourself time to second-guess—you leaned down and pressed your lips gently against his.

For a moment, Felix froze in shock before melting into the kiss, his hands tentatively resting on your chest as if afraid to hold on too tightly. When you pulled back slightly, his cheeks were flushed, and his lips parted in disbelief.

“You… You knew?” he stammered softly.

“I knew,” you admitted with a small smile. “And I feel the same way.”

Felix blinked rapidly as tears welled up in his eyes—not from sadness but from overwhelming relief and happiness. He threw his arms around your neck then, burying his face against your shoulder as he whispered shakily: “I didn’t think… I didn’t think you’d ever feel that way about me.”

Before either of you could say more, Han’s voice broke through: “Well that escalated quickly!”

Hyunjin snorted loudly while Changbin grinned mischievously from across the room. 

“Felix finally confessed without confessing!”

“Shut up!” Felix snapped half-heartedly against your shoulder before pulling back slightly to glare at them—but his flushed cheeks betrayed how flustered he truly was.

“You’re lucky Jagae feels the same way,” Minho added dryly with a smirk.

Jeongin chimed in nervously: “We all knew anyway…”

“Wait—you all knew?” Felix asked incredulously, whipping around to face them while still clinging to your arm.

Seungmin shrugged nonchalantly but couldn’t hide his grin. “It was obvious.”

As laughter filled the room again and Felix buried his face against your chest in embarrassment, Chan stepped forward with a warm smile and clapped your shoulder lightly. “Welcome back—for real this time.”

You glanced down at Felix once more before wrapping an arm around him protectively and letting yourself relax for what felt like the first time in weeks. For now—for tonight—you were exactly where you were meant to be: by their side… by his side.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺       ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺  . ✦

That's the end! I stay up pretty late writing, so if there any inconsistencies are in the story, I apologize!

Part one, Part two

Love you, darling!

Is this a Richy reference??

Be right back, gonna go bawl my eyes out

I.N BURNIN' TIRES, 2025

Pieces of Us

Chris Bang x fem!reader

Warnings: SMUT MDNI

Genre: Exes to lovers, second chance love, fluff, smut

Summary: Even a year after your divorce, you can't get over Chris. You keep seeing him all the time because you're co parenting your daughter, and you see that he's still the same man you fell in love with. And you both haven't moved on at all.

It’s late. Your apartment is silent except for the hum of the refrigerator, as you sit on the sofa, nursing a glass of wine when you hear the doorbell.

You find Chris on your doorstep, punctual as usual, holding your toddler, Mia, against his chest, her small body curled into him like she’s still a newborn.

Your heart does a funny little lurch. It must be the wine. Definitely the wine.

“She fell asleep in the car,” he whispers, stepping inside. He is still dressed in his formals, and your traitorous eyes drink him in.

“Rough day?” he asks softly, noting the wine and the way your shoulders sag.

“Something like that,” you mutter, gesturing to Mia’s room. “You can put her to bed.”

Chris nods, carrying her toward her bedroom. He emerges moments later, quietly shutting her door behind him. His gaze locks onto yours, dark and a little too comforting.

“What happened?” he asks, folding his arms against his chest.

“It’s nothing,” you say, but Chris raises an eyebrow.

“Bullshit,” he counters smoothly, sitting next to you on the sofa. “You know you can't lie to me.”

You roll your eyes but relent and say, “Work politics. Same old garbage.”

Chris winces, before he leans forward and says, “You’re too good for them, you know that, right?”

Those are simple words, but they hit harder than they should. You glance at him, something raw flickering in your chest.

“Oh please,” you murmur, looking away.

“What?” He asks. “It’s true.”

You don’t answer, reaching instead for the bottle of wine. Chris doesn’t stop you as you pour a second glass.

“Here, celebrate my failures with me,” you tease, trying to ease your own heart. “I don't feel like wallowing in self pity alone tonight.”

He snorts, shaking his head, but takes the glass.

“You're so dramatic,”

“And yet, you were married to me for five years,” you quip, with a grin.

The wine loosen you both faster than it should. Soon, you’re reminiscing about Mia’s first words, and the road trip to Busan where the car broke down, and you ended up making out in the car till Minho came to rescue you both.

“I miss this,” you admit quietly, the words slipping out before you can stop them. “Talking...and everything,”

You and Chris had been good friends before you both fell in love. It had been the most beautiful years of your life before things started falling apart.

He doesn’t say anything, but reaches out, his fingers brushing yours. It’s subtle, but it sets your heart racing. Like always. Even a year after your divorce, you clearly haven't moved on.

“I miss it too,” he finally says, his voice low. “All the time.”

“Please don’t say that if you don’t mean it.” you mumble.

He leans in, closer than he’s been in a more than year, his dark eyes locked onto yours.

“You think I don’t mean it? You think I ever stopped wanting you?”

Your breath catches as he closes the distance between you. His lips hover inches from yours as he says, “I never stopped…”

It’s reckless, stupid, maybe even a mistake - but you don’t care. You let him close the gap, his lips crashing into yours, and everything you’ve been holding back spills over.

The kiss is messy and heated - all the pent-up frustration and longing coming crashing down. His hands find your waist, pulling you closer, and you melt against him, your arms circling his neck. His lips move against yours desperately, like he is afraid to let go.

When you finally break apart, breathless and a little lost, Chris brushes a thumb over your cheek.

“This doesn’t fix anything,” you whisper.

“No. But it’s a start.”

It’s intoxicating - the feel of him, the heat radiating off his body. You both pull each other close again, his lips moving down your neck, leaving soft kisses.

But somewhere in between, reality raises its nagging head and you falter.

“Wait,” you murmur, pulling back slightly.

Chris freezes, his breathing ragged, as he asks, “What’s wrong?”

“This is… reckless,” you whisper, though your heart won't allow you to let go of him.

He exhales sharply, leaning back just enough to meet your gaze. “Y/N, I -”

“Don’t,” you interrupt, your voice trembling. “I don't want us to mess up again.”

He gives you a look and you think he might argue. But then he sighs. He looks exhausted and a little heart broken. But he stands up and says, “You’re right. We can’t… not like this.”

“You have to go.” You swallow hard, the lump in your throat threatening to choke you.

He stares at you for a long moment, then he nods.

“Right. I’ll… I’ll call tomorrow to check on Mia.” he says, clearing his throat.

You nod, biting your lip to keep it from trembling. Because this feels even harder than the first time.

“Goodnight, Chris.” you whisper.

“Goodnight,” he says, his voice rough.

As soon as he’s gone, the tears you’ve been holding back spill over. You sink onto the couch, your face in your hands, and you cry until your throat is raw. You missed him. And you still hate yourself for letting this happen.

It starts with a look. It always does.

The next time Chris comes by, it’s late again, Mia’s tiny backpack slung over his shoulder, and her hand clutching his tightly as they walk to your door. You try to play it cool, standing in the doorway with your arms crossed and a polite smile fixed on your face.

But then he looks at you and the air shifts.

“Hi,” he says, his voice lower than it needs to be, his gaze lingering on your mouth.

“Hi,” your voice shakes but it's soft.

Mia is already running into her room, way too excited to get to her new playset, and Chris watches her for a moment, before his gaze settles on you.

And then there are no words exchanged as his hands grab you towards him and he's pushing you against the kitchen counter, kissing you.

You moan softly as his tongue slips into your mouth. His hand slips down your back, cupping your butt before pulling you flush against himself.

“Is this going to keep happening?” you ask breathlessly, as he kisses down your neck. Past your collarbone. Down your chest. His face is buried in your breasts, before he kisses them over your t-shirt.

Your fingers tangle in his hair, holding on to him, and you gasp as he bites your nipple over the fabric and a dull pleasure courses through your body.

“What?” he murmurs, his lips back on yours again.

“This,” you say between kisses.

He kisses you again, rougher than before and says,

“Tell me to stop,” he says, and his hands cup your cheeks, gazing into your eyes.

You don’t. You can’t. Instead, you pull him closer, your bodies so familiar with each other.

It becomes a pattern after that. Anytime he comes over - whether he’s dropping off Mia or picking her up - it happens.

Sometimes it’s rushed and frantic, like the time he cornered you in the kitchen, your lips colliding as the coffee maker sputtered in the background. And other times, it’s slow and sweet. Especially when he knows you're a bit down or you're having a bad day.

You don’t talk about it. It’s easier to pretend this is just an outlet, a way to scratch the itch that never seems to fade.

You tell yourself this is only because he's the only man you've been with for so damn long. You two had married so young. You hate thinking about it.

So you don't. But deep down, you know it’s more than just sex. But you’re not ready to acknowledge it. Neither is he.

Friday evenings with Minho are sacred. He's your best friend, your big brother, your pillar of support. The one person who held you up during your separation from Chris. The only person who knows that you still loved him with everything in you.

Minho brings take out, you both talk, watch a movie, sometimes two. And fall asleep on each other because obviously, you both were the laziest besties in the world.

You've been trying to tell Chris to leave, but he is busy pounding into you. You stand with your hands grips the kitchen counter as he thrust into you from the back, his hands holding onto your hips tightly.

“He's gonna be here any minute!” You hiss, and Chris moves faster, and more rough. You try not to moan as waves of pleasure hit you, and you clench so hard around him, he's shuddering with his release.

“Fuck-” He groans, pressing his face against the back of your neck before slowly pulling out of you.

You both clean up and look somewhat presentable when the doorbell rings. You sigh because Minho will see right through you.

And he won't let you live this down. Ever.

You glance at Chris before opening the door. And Minho steps in already ranting about his day and he stops in his tracks when his eyes land on Chris.

Well that's a first - Minho being at a loss of words.

You freeze, your cheeks burning, while Chris awkwardly shoves his hands in his pockets.

“Hi, Minho,” Chris says, giving him a quick nod.

Minho doesn’t answer immediately. Instead, he looks between the two of you, his lips twitching in amusement, before slowly smirking.

“Hey, Chris.” Then, he strolls further inside saying, “Don’t mind me. I'm just here for my niece.”

He disappears into the living room, leaving you and Chris standing there like a couple of teenagers caught doing something bad.

“I should, uh, get going,” he says, though he doesn’t move.

“Right, yeah,” you stammer, smoothing your hands over your skirt nervously.

“See you on Sunday,” he says, opening the door.

“See you,” you manage, your heart racing again, and Chris flashes you a smile before leaving.

The moment the door shuts, Minho reappears, a wicked grin plastered across his face.

“Soooo…”

“Don’t start.”

“Oh, I’m starting,” he says, leaning against the wall, arms crossed. “You’re clearly fucking Chris freaking Bang and you want me to not start?”

“Minho,” you warn, making a beeline for the living room, and he follows you with that menacing grin still in place.

“So, when exactly did this ‘we’re just co-parents’ arrangement turn into ‘we’re fuck buddies again’?”

“It’s not like that!” you protest, though your face feels like it’s on fire.

“Uh-huh.” He says, starting to plate up the food. “You two were totally not flushed and guilty. Try again.”

You bury your face in a throw pillow.

“Linooooo stopppp!! It’s complicated.” you whine.

“It always is with you two,” he says, rolling his eyes. “You’re like Ross and Rachel, except somehow more frustrating.”

You peek out from behind the pillow, glaring at him.

“We’re not -”

“Don’t even think about saying you’re not into him,” Minho interrupts, pointing his chopsticks at you. “I know you, Y/N.”

You open your mouth to argue but immediately close it, because he's stating the obvious and there is no real use of denying it.

“I’m just saying, if you’re going to jump your ex-husband, at least warn me so I can avoid walking into it.” Minho smirks, leaning back smugly.

You groan, throwing the pillow at him. He dodges it easily, laughing as you sink further into the couch, hands covering your face.

“Seriously, though,” he says after a moment, his tone softening. “Are you okay? I mean, this whole Chris thing… are you sure about this?”

You sigh, staring up at the ceiling.

“I don’t know. I love him, Minho, and I swear I tried to move on…but, everytime I look at him…he's the same person I fell in love with. He's not a monster. He's a great father. He's a good friend. And.. and I don't even know why…” Your voice cracks a bit as you struggle with your thoughts. “Then we talked, and it’s like… like nothing’s changed. But everything has changed, and it’s so… messy.”

“Messy’s okay. You deserve to be happy, Y/N. Whether that’s with Chris or someone else.” he says softly. “If you're sure, then go for it.”

His words hang in the air, and for a moment, you let yourself imagine what it would be like to be honest with Chris. To let go of the pride and the fear and just… try again. Because God, you really want to.

Sunday arrives, and Mia is up early, ready for her day with her daddy. She even picks out her favorite toy to take along with her and insists on wearing the sparkly dress she knows Chris loves.

When Chris texts, you think it's to let you know that he's on his way. But it wasn't.

Chris: Hey, something came up. Can we reschedule Mia’s time for today?

You blink at it for a moment, heart sinking slightly. You don’t question it - life happens, after all. But Mia doesn’t take it as well.

“Daddy’s not coming?” she asks, her lower lip trembling and her little shoulders slump in disappointment.

You kneel down, brushing a stray lock of hair from her forehead.

“No, sweetheart. He’s just busy today, but we’ll see him soon. How about we have a girls' day instead?”

She looks up at you with big tear filled eyes.

“Girls' day? With Mommy?” she asks, and you nod, pulling her into a tight hug.

“That’s right. Just you and me. Let’s make it special.” You say, kissing her cheek and getting on with it.

You spend the afternoon indulging in ice cream, shopping for new art supplies, and of course, toys. You also take her to an indoor play area that she loves, and by the time you get home, Mia is falling asleep in your arms.

You carry her to her room, tuck her into bed, and she’s out within minutes. Pressing a soft kiss to her forehead, you step out of her room.

The apartment falls into a quiet, peaceful lull. You wash up quickly and sit in front of the TV, hoping to watch an episode of that show you've been trying to watch for a while now. It's not exactly easy with a toddler around.

But around fifteen minutes into the show, you hear the sound of the doorbell. You open the door, and there stands Chris, holding a small box in his hand.

“Hey,” he says, his voice low, as he meets your gaze. “I'm sorry about today. I brought her favorite cupcakes.”

Your heart does a little flip at the sight of him.

“That’s sweet of you.” you say, “But she's already asleep.”

“Oh…I was hoping to see her before....ah,” Chris says with a little sigh.

You give him a small, sympathetic shrug.

“It's okay, she can eat them tomorrow,” You say with a smile and step aside to let him in.

He nods, stepping inside and setting the box of cupcakes on the kitchen counter. There’s disappointment in his eyes and it stirs something deep inside you.

“I’m really sorry, Y/N,” he says, and it feels like he’s apologizing for more than just missing his day with Mia.

“It’s really okay. Mia missed you, but we still had a good day. She was really happy.” you tell him.

Chris’s gaze lingers on you a moment too long before he says,“I feel like I keep letting you both down.”

“Chris, please don't say that,” you reply, giving him a small smile. “We know you’re doing your best. I know you’re trying.”

He nods, though he doesn't look completely convinced.

“So,” you say, trying to keep it light, “I’m about to have dinner… want to join me?”

It’s an innocent enough invitation. Casual. Polite. But the way he looks at you gives you an idea of what's about to happen next.

Chris takes a step forward, his hand gently cupping your cheek, and then his lips are on yours. The kiss deepens almost instantly and he pulls you closer, your bodies pressed together.

You stifle a sob, and Chris is quickly pulling back to look at you, tipping your chin up to see you better.

“Baby, please don't-”

“I love you-”

There is a moment of silence - Chris's eyes soften as he watches the tears fall. You can't believe you just said that. But this whole thing was getting more and more difficult to manage. The constant need to be close to him. Waiting for the days he spent with Mia, just so you could see him.

And then he's kissing you again, mumbling a hundred ‘I love yous’ you against your lips, and the next thing you know, he's scooping you up in his arms and carrying you towards your bedroom.

He closes the door gently (so that it doesn't wake Mia), and places you on the edge of the bed, kneeling down in front of you on the floor.

“Baby, I never stopped loving you. And there isn't a day where I don't regret letting you walk out of my life… we could've handled things better…and everytime I came here for Mia, I wished you would just ask me to stay. I selfishly wished that you wouldn't move on.” he says, his voice soft and his touch even softer as he placed his hands on your knees.

“I don't think I can ever love anyone like I love you. If you give me another chance, I promise I'll not let you down. I'll spend every day of the rest of my life proving to you that you're my everything… and I will be here for you, always.”

You nod and tears falling more rapidly now, and throw your arms around Chris's neck, and he wraps his arms around your waist, his face pressing against your neck as he holds you close.

“I love you, baby I'm sorry-” You cry, your arms tightening around him. “I didn't know what to do…the baby, the job, there was so much noise, and I wasn't well…I'm sorry I didn't see that you were suffering too-” you hiccup through your tears.

You feel his hand moving up and down your back in an attempt to comfort you.

“I know baby, I'm not mad. We were both suffering. We were both hurt. But we're here now.” Chris whispers.

“I love you, I want you back. Please don't leave me again-”

Chris kisses you again, stealing your breath away.

“No more crying over me ok?” He says with a soft smile. “I'm not going anywhere…I love you and Mia so much, I am going to be here-”

More kisses follow and you move back into the bed, and he follows, both of you pulling at each other's clothes.

He trails his lips down your neck, and it feels like the world outside your bedroom might as well not exist. His hands glide over your skin, gentle, but just as desperate.

You can feel the way he trembles against you, the way his breath catches as your hands move down his chest. And then when he slips inside, as gentle as ever, you can't help but cry, because as beautiful as the moment feels, you realize just how miserable you have been without him.

Chris moves slowly at first, and you close your eyes as the pleasure builds. He peppers so many kisses on your lips and neck, like he can't kiss you enough.

His fingers work on your clit as he moves, and soon your body shudders as your orgasm ripples through you. You moan softly, and it obviously has him crashing down too.

You don't let go, because truth be told, you're afraid he's going to leave. And tonight? You don't want him to. Actually, you don't want to see him walk out that door ever again.

And Chris isn't planning to, because he holds you just as tight, promising softly that he'll be here when you wake up in the morning. And you let your eyes fall shut, trusting him.

You both decide to take it slow, for Mia's sake.

Chris doesn’t officially move in, yet, but his presence is…undeniable. There are more of his things around the house, and more than anything else, it's the way Mia’s laughter grows louder every time he walks through the door. You’ve caught yourself smiling more too - wide, genuine smiles you hadn’t worn in ages.

You love watching him help Mia with her bedtime routine, fixing squeaky hinges around the house you’ve ignored for months, and finding every excuse to stay a bit longer.

And Minho? Well, he’s having the time of his life.

---

One Friday evening, you’re all gathered in the living room. Chris is helping Mia build a tower with her blocks while you sip wine and half-listen to Minho’s dramatic story about his latest “date gone wrong.”

“And then she said she didn’t like cats. Cats, Y/N. Can you imagine the nerve?” Minho says, gesturing wildly with his chopsticks as he digs into the takeout he insisted on bringing.

“Oh my God” you say, laughing as Chris adds, “Sounds horrible, but maybe try not to bring home every stray you find?”

“Don’t think I don’t see you trying to steal my best friend away. Again.” Minho narrows his eyes, pointing at Chris.

“Jealous, Minho?” Chris quips, and Minho scoffs, leaning back dramatically.

“Of you? Please.” Minho says. “But whatever this setup is, it's sure looks promising.”

You freeze mid-sip of your wine, while Chris raises an eyebrow.

“And what’s that supposed to mean?” you ask.

“I’m just saying, for exes, you two sure look cozy.” Minho grins, and your cheeks burn, as you try not to look at Chris.

“Minho…” you warn.

“Don’t worry, Y/N. I’m rooting for you,” Minho says, winking before turning back to Mia. “Besides, if it doesn’t work out, I’ll adopt Mia. Because you two are idiots. And we're done dealing with you. Sorry, not sorry.”

Mia giggles at the mention of her name before getting back to her game.

---

Later that night, after Minho has left (eyeing you mischievously because Chris was still there) and Mia is asleep, you and Chris are clearing up the kitchen.

“You know,” he says, his voice low, “Minho isn’t wrong.”

“About what?” You ask, glancing at him, wiping your hands on a dish towel.

“About us. About this.” Chris says, leaning against the counter and folding his arms.

Your heart skips a beat as you gaze at him, watching him push off the counter and walk towards you.

The towel slips from your hands as his fingers brush against your cheek, and his lips land on yours.

It’s slow at first, warm and tender, but it doesn’t take long for it to snap and you're both pulling each other closer. Your fingers tangle in his hair, your body responding to his touch like it always has.

He pauses, his forehead resting against yours as you both catch your breath.

“I love you,” he says, pressing a soft kiss on the tip of your nose.

“I love you too,” you admit, and he smiles, his dimples making an appearance and your heart races as you reach up to run your fingers over it.

He kisses you again, slower this time, like he’s savoring every second of it. And at that moment, this doesn't really feel like a second chance.

It’s the beginning of everything you’ve ever wanted.

The smell of pancakes fills the house as sunlight filters through the kitchen windows. Chris stands at the stove, a spatula in one hand, flipping golden-brown pancakes onto a plate. He’s wearing his usual gray shorts and a fitted black T-shirt. His hair is messy, a sign that he’s only been up for about twenty minutes, and he’s humming softly to himself as he works.

Mia sits at the table, still in her pajamas, happily coloring into a giant coloring book. This is such a dream. You lean against the counter, sipping your coffee, watching Chris with a faint smile that you haven’t been able to shake since he stayed over last night.

For the first time… in a very long time.

And then, the doorbell rings. You frown, setting down your coffee.

“Expecting someone?” He asks and you shake your head, walking to the door and opening it to find your mum standing there, a purse slung over her shoulder and a smile on her face.

“Mum?” you say, blinking in surprise.

“Surprise, sweetheart!” she says, stepping inside without waiting for an invitation. “I was in the neighborhood and thought I’d stop by. Wanted to see my girls, and I brought muffins!”

She holds up a bakery bag, grinning, then stops dead in her tracks.

Her gaze falls on Chris, who’s just turned around from the stove, spatula still in hand, his expression frozen like a deer caught in headlights.

“Oh,” your mom says.

There's silence for a second before Mia screeches, “Grandmaaaaaaaa!!!”

Your mum picks Mia up, pressing a kiss to her cheek before asking if she could play in her room for sometime. Mia pouts, but runs off with a muffin.

Her eyes narrow slightly, taking in how casual Chris looks, his messy hair, and the way he just seems to be part of the scene.

“Good morning, mum,” Chris says smoothly, recovering faster than you could've thought.

He smiles, dimples flashing, as he asks, “Pancakes?”

Your mum raises an eyebrow, clearly not buying his innocent act. She folds her arms, looking at you.

“Y/N… what’s going on here?”

“It’s not what it looks like,” you start, suddenly feeling like a child again.

“Mhm.” She gives you a look that says she doesn’t believe you for a second. “You’re telling me it’s normal for your ex-husband to be in your kitchen, making pancakes, looking like he just rolled out of bed?”

“Technically, I did just roll out of bed,” Chris says, unable to resist.

You shoot him a glare, but he has already turned back to the stove, hiding a smirk.

“Y/N?” Your mom’s eyes narrow further.

“It’s… kind of...,” you say finally, rubbing the back of your neck.

“Yes?” she prompts, looking from you to Chris and then back at you. You think she's going to give you a nice big lecture about responsibility. But she lets out a sigh, her posture softening.

“You know,” she says, her tone gentler now, “I always thought the two of you were good for each other. When you got divorced, I was shocked and devastated - for you, for Mia.” She pauses, her eyes locking with yours. “But if you’re giving this another try… I just want to make sure you’re happy, sweetheart. That you’re doing this for the right reasons.”

“I know I messed up before. I know I hurt your daughter. But I love her. I always have, and I’m doing everything I can to show her - and Mia - that I’m here to stay. I realize that I need them more than they need me…so yeah,”

Your mum’s gaze softens as she studies him, and then she looks at you.

“And you, Y/N? Are you happy?”

You glance at Chris, who’s watching you with that steady loving gaze that’s always made you feel safe and sure, and you nod.

“Yeah, Mum. I am.”

Your mom smiles, stepping forward to press a kiss to your cheek.

“Well, then. I suppose I’ll have to stick around for breakfast. Those pancakes smell amazing.”

Chris grins and gets back to work, and your mum nods, making her way in to properly greet her granddaughter again.

Just as she disappears, Chris slides up beside you, his hand brushing yours as you start setting the table for breakfast.

“That went better than expected,” he murmurs, his voice low.

“You’ve always been her favorite, you know.” You glance at him, your lips twitching into a smile.

He smirks, leaning in just enough to make your heart skip a beat.

“Good to know I still am.” He pecks your lips quickly before getting back to work.

You roll your eyes, but your smile lingers as your mum comes back with Mia in her arms. And you all sit around the table and enjoy breakfast.

It’s chaotic and imperfect, but it's home. And for the first time in a long time, you feel like everything is exactly where it’s meant to be. All the scattered pieces of you finally fit.

Divider by @saradika-graphics

Tags: @moonchild9350 @velvetmoonlght @eastjonowhere @pixie-felix @sailor--sun @satosugu4l

Do you guys like farming? pt.2 (Coral island edition)

playing these games that has romance as an aromantic is really fun ngl (I REALLY WANTED TO MARRY FRANK BUT THEN HE TURNS OUT TO BE MARRIED TO SOMEONE ELSE AND THEN MARK APPEARS OUT OF NOWHERE LIKE A BRAZILLIAN SOAP OPERA SCENE)