⊹ ˙⋆ 𞥊 ִ Rei/valrei— Twenty Two. She/her/hers.

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I stand on the rubble of our home, but my heart is filled with hope. I need your help to leave Gaza and complete my education to build my future. Every donation, no matter how small, will help me achieve my dream. Join us on a journey of rebuilding

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insecurity pt. I // lf texts

Title: Insecurity pt I Genre: fake texts, friends to lovers, angst, hurt/comfort Pairing: idol/baker bsf!Felix x fem!reader

Summary: You and your best friend Felix love to bake together, and lately he has been ON FIRE with the pastries. Unfortunately, being secretly in love with Felix, you start to worry that his habit (love language) of sharing his treats with you is causing you to gain too much weight.

notes: thank you @ramadiiiisme for all the help and inspiration (and the request <3 )

I was gonna apologize for uploading this so fast but I'm not gonna.

Warnings: themes of concern over weight gain, light language, slight Seungmin slander (he can't cook okay) Felix calling you honey platonically because he's adorable.

SS: 13

(ignore the time stamps)

next part >

tag list : @amarecerasus @kumariiai @diekleinesuesse @captainchrisstan @0omillo0 @katexstay @younggwingss @darlingsoulbeautifulthoughts @feetoffthemalfoy @seungminsapuppy

comment a request to be tagged!

Poisonous tears

Genre: Angst, fluff & smut | exes to lovers

Word Count: 10.8k

Reading Time: 40 minutes

WARNING ⊂✦⊃ This story contains NSFW / suggestive & angst content and mentions of infertility, alcohol & cigarettes. Minors please don’t interact, please beware of the content you consume online.

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May 8th 2021,

They say that when cats are about to die they run away from their home so that their owners won’t see them die.

In this case, no one is dying, though every day you notice a black stain growing on Minho’s love— as harsh as it sounds.

He would take late night shifts to avoid being on the same bed as you, hanging out more with his friends so he wouldn’t hear your obnoxious voice, he was just barely home nowadays.

He was running away from you, so you wouldn’t notice how the light of his heart was diminishing by the day, perhaps this was his way to protect you from a heart-wrenching heartbreak. Ironic isn’t it?

However, one thing you know about Minho is that even though he might not love you anymore, he would rather walk on fire stones than hurt you. How do you know that? You just know it.

You knew it. You knew something was wrong the moment he told you he was going to be home for dinner.

You knew something was wrong when he suddenly kissed you this morning after weeks of no kisses.

“My feelings for you died” The words repeated over and over again, you felt your gut wrenching in pain as the sudden urge to scream, run and throw up rushed through your whole body, suddenly the air felt too thick to breathe, your skin was icy cold and your lips trembled.

“Oh” is all you said, not even a word just a mere sound ‘Oh’ though it sounded nonchalant deep inside it held all the emotions, the grief you were going through.

You didn’t cry though. He was not worth your tears, thats what you told yourself as you felt the knot in your throat tightening, deep inside you wanted to burst your lungs out crying for him, cling into his leg and tell him you would change.

However crying was useless, it wasn’t going to help you get him back, on the other hand it would make him see you as a weak woman, you didn’t want that.

“Im sorry”

Right. He is still here, he is sitting on the opposite side of the table, eyes watery, head hung down.

You felt the urge to scoff, he was the one ending this long term relationship why is he swallowing tears? That should be you.

The silence that filled the room by the seconds consumed the both of you, the tension was something that couldn’t have been cut with the sharpest knife. You have a million questions but the main one is why? when did all go wrong?

Millions of memories rushed through your mind as your love for Minho was on the verge of life and death, trying to recall the moment where things when downhill.

“Y/n”

Why does his voice still has that soft caring tone when calling your name in this situation? You felt your stomach twirl, your gaze looking up to meet his.

He stays quiet as you both locked eyes for the first time today. Suddenly he ran out of words.

“Please leave” you needed time for yourself, him being here was pointless now, there was no reason. You didn’t wanna hear him anymore, you didn’t want to see him nor breathe the same air as his.

You wanted him to vanish from your life. He stood up and slowly walked away, he hesitated to leave his heart having a million words to tell you, he wanted to clarify that deep down he cared for you. But he knew better.

Little did you knew he would actually vanish from your life.

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July 18th 2021,

After the breakup you felt you were scarred with the deepest wound ever, two months passed and getting up the bed was the hardest task every morning.

Who would say a person could have such impact on you? To be fair you never thought of breaking up with Minho ever since you two began dating during senior year of high school.

I mean every action he did guaranteed you that he was meant to spend the rest of his lifetime with you. Maybe it was because he applied to the same colleges as you to always keep you close, or because you guys discussed your wedding, pregnancy, sex, kisses, undying love. BULLSHIT that’s what it all was.

You found yourself on the floor, greasy hair, puffy eyes, runny nose, pajamas you been wearing for days— takeout boxes laying next to you alongside soju bottles.

What was the point of living if your reason to live is gone? Were you being dramatic? That’s what your friends said… that’s what your mom said… that’s what everybody said.

“You are overreacting”

Maybe you are, maybe you are not, however you don’t care, you don’t care anymore about anything, that’s why you find yourself in this state.

You can’t cry anymore because there’s no more tears to shed, you can’t continue with your daily life because your daily life didn’t exist anymore. So what now? are you supposed to just suck it up? You don’t even remember how your life was before you started dating him.

Five long years of him next to you, now there was nothing. Just an empty heart and poisonous tears that would sting your cheeks.

The ringing of your phone rung on your ears, you groaned as you stood up. You didn’t check the phone, you didn’t care. Instead you sat on your vanity and looked at this version of you, the sad one, the miserable one.

You gaze slowly shifted to the wrinkled Polaroids of you and him that you tried to rip off but couldn’t because your weak. And just like that you felt your wound bleeding again. That hypothetical one, the deep wound of your heart.

Your phone lit up next to you catching your eye. You vaguely grabbed it to see an unknown text pop on your home screen. It was a video.

You furrowed your brows as you open the displayed media. Your phone dropping to the floor as soon as you realized what it was. A sex tape.

Not any sex tape. It was Minho’s with some other girl. Just like that… the wound got deeper. The video clearly shows the girl recording herself sucking him dry. Even if his face wasn’t shown you knew it was him, you knew every inch of his body better than yours. Also with the fact you could hear his soft moans in the back, pet names that used to be yours and only yours being used on some bitch.

Your knuckles turned white, if you said there weren’t more tears to be shed you were wrong. You walked to your kitchen opening the fridge to get a soju bottle. Drinking it one go, you smashed it on the floor, the glass shattered all over the room. Another bottle was opened.

Fuck you Lee Minho, is what your brain screamed while your heart screamed heart wrenching why’s.

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January 1st 2024,

The colorful lights and the loud bangs of the new years fireworks hovered all over your apartment. Another year passed. Another year without him. Its been about 3 years since Minho broke up with you, and honestly you don’t care about it anymore though the pain always lingered.

However you could feel the wound of your old long term relationship healing as the years passed by. You have had no contact with the man you used to love dearly. He vanished from your life, just as you wished the day he broke up with you. Crazy how someone you love can turn into an stranger in mere of seconds.

You took a long drag of your cigarette as you stare at the invitation of a new years party. Scheduled for Jan 8th. You had the feeling he was going to be there since you were invited by Changbin, a mutual friend of yours.

You wanted to go, and not because deep down your heart longed to see him, but because you truly felt like a party was what you needed, it's been a while since you last went to one and had actual fun with friends and new people; However, you hesitate to reply, as you had no clue how you could react if you were to cross paths with him. You still had a bunch of unanswered questions for him and though you craved an answer you needed to move on. His love was dead as much as you were.

The next couple days were filled with crippling anxiety, you hated that after 3 years the thought of him still lingered in your mind. However how could he not? He used to be your world mere years ago.

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January 8th,

You applied your cherry tone lipstick, trying your best to not mess up as your hands trembled. You looked at yourself in the mirror longer than you’ve wished. Your dress was completely neat yet you kept passing your hands over it.

“You got this”

You mumbled as you took another look at yourself, you looked divine, smooth skin, perfect hair and dress that snatched your body perfectly. It was his loss it really was.

The pang of your heart increasing with ever step you to took to the main entrance of the party. As you entered the music automatically ringing in your ears as it progressively got louder the deeper you went inside the house.

“Y/n” You heard a cheerful voice call out for you, it was Changbin alongside with Seungmin. You gave them a sheepish smile. The two boys stared at you reassuringly, they been your friends for so long… they knew.

They knew about the way your stomach twirled and your heart pang with the thought of seeing him and you hated that with your soul.

“Your late, I thought you were going to ditch us” Seungmin said with a warm smile trying to break the tension that was surrounding you.

You chuckled nervously, they know why you late. “Don’t press it Seungmin, she arrived at the best time, everyone is drunk meaning the party is about to get lit” Changbin jumped up and down gaining a glare from the younger one.

You laughed this time sincerely, gaining a bright smile from the boys. “Do you wanna join us at games?” Changbin said and you nodded.

In a place filled with hundreds of people, you are the one my eyes look for every time I look around.

The burning sensation of the tequila hitting your throat made you squint your eyes as hard as you could as you downed your shot refusing to answer the question being asked on the game of truth or dare.

“Would you talk to him if he was here?”

Crazy how a simple hypothetical question made your whole body spin.

You could hear the boys scolding the person who asked the question as you bit onto the lemon. You didn’t wanna play anymore and they knew, but you didn’t want to feed into their perspective of you being a weak woman. So you sucked it up.

Today it seems that they’ve decided to make it a target to get you wasted as all the questions they asked revolved around him, guess that's what you got for making your love for him your whole personality back then.

Chan scolded everyone a million times for bringing him up, however you reassured him it was ok. He knew it wasn’t. Yet he was just as curious as everyone else on why you two broke up. And as painful as it was you didn’t know the answer to most of their questions either.

You excused yourself to go to the bathroom. It wasn’t until you stood up that you realized how drunk you were. “I’ll go with you,” Felix said, ensuring you would make it safely to the bathroom.

The conversation that bloomed between the two of you as you walked to the bathroom was pleasant, maybe it was because of the way he slightly flirted with you or because as you two talked you spotted a pair of eyes looking at the two of you with anger in them.

Fuck you.

Before you could even made it to the bathroom you were pulled into a kiss, not that it was unpleasant, it was unexpected… more like uninvited, you haven’t kissed anyone since Minho.

And not because you couldn’t but because you wanted your first kiss after the breakup to be significant, as significant as the ones you gave Minho during your relationship.

This kiss meant nothing to you, just the desperate desire of love to be loved.

Tears creeped into your eyes as you locked eyes with Minho while Felix’s plump lips were on yours, his hands roaming on your waist. Since when things turned like this? You could see Minho swallowed a lump that formed in his throat.

His eyes looked red-ish, sadness lingering in them. You couldn’t believe it. You didn’t believe his poisonous tears. Fake tears. Same tears you saw the last time you saw him when he broke up with you.

Fuck it.

You closed your eyes and wrapped your arms around the blond boy’s neck. Gaining a soft moan from him, you smirked into the kiss as you opened your eyes again. This time no one was there anymore. The brunette boy was long gone… again.

The wet kisses being placed on your neck and the leg in between your legs was not enough to get him out of your mind, Felix was too drunk to even notice you were standing stiff against the wall with a blank face.

You played with Felix hair as you slowly pushed him away. The freckled boy gave you a sweet smile, the blush of his cheeks rushing to his ears.

“Sorry y/n, I got carried away” His words were sincere and warm, but what can you expect from one of the purest souls you know. You reciprocated his smile and pecked his cheek.

“It's fine lix” You said softly as you walked away. While Felix had a full-on makeout session with you, you made up your mind. And you would face your biggest fear.

Your body walked aimlessly through the crowd of people that filled the house, you tried your best to walk as straight as you could, but those shots of tequila you had while playing truth or dare added a weight to your shoulders. It wasn't until you crashed on a firm body that you snapped out of whatever was on your mind.

Maybe you underestimated the seriousness of the situation once you were face-to-face with him. The whole scene felt like something out of a book, his sharp features looked more prominent under the soft light of the neon lights, the music blasting in your ears and the people that constantly crashed on you as they danced were quickly erased from the face of the earth, as all your attention revolved around him.

“You are drunk” His voice had a cold tone you never heard before, not even when you barely knew each other. You began to understand why people thought of him as a cold person, it was the first time you saw him using his shield on you; just like that the first dagger stabbed your heart.

You scoffed softly as you looked at the floor, taking a deep breath to get your act together, missing the way his gaze was fixated on the hickeys Felix had given you previously, he pressed his tongue against his cheek annoyed at the sight.

“I don't want to talk to you right now" You tried to say firmly, however you could hear your own voice trembling. Minho knew he should have just gone and left you alone but he didn't want to, and as selfish as it sounded he wanted to stick around just so no one else would touch or even look in your direction.

After a while of fighting with his own thoughts, he grabbed your wrist to pull you outside the party "We need to talk" He said as he led you out to the balcony, stopping in his tracks as he felt you trying to pull away.

“Please not now” Your voice cracked, you sounded vulnerable. He could feel his heart dropping to his stomach as he heard your voice, he hated how much he had corrupted your happpiness, he was always aware of your emotional status, maybe he hadn't been present these past three years but he often checked on you, finding himself going to your favorite spots and watch you from afar.

You sucked your breath as you turned around to leave, he knew this wasn’t the moment but while you weren’t looking he took a second to admire your delicate beauty, the one he fell in love with, the one he still loves but it is kept a secret as his emotions are trapped in a bottle deep inside his heart.

“You are drunk” He said as his warm fingertips rubbed around your wrist. You felt an electric shock tensing your muscles. “Call it a night and let me drive you home” You should have said no. That’s what your brain kept telling you, however you didn’t listen. The moment you nodded your head it felt like the biggest betrayal ever.

The ride to your house felt nauseatingly nostalgic, he remembered the shortcuts he used to take, your favorite song playing on the car radio. You were too drunk for this.

As you were getting out of the car, you stumbled making him worried you wouldn’t make it safe to your door. You protested against him, but he wouldn’t budge. Walking you to your apartment, hand on your waist as you grabbed into his shirt for steadiness.

Your heart jolted with joy, the whole scenario that your head was creating was fake but you blamed the alcohol, just enjoy the moment and play pretend.

He helped you enter your apartment, helped you clean up, and gave you pills to prevent the hangover, the whole interaction felt too domestic for a man who became a stranger three years ago. You wonder what he has been up to, and yeah maybe you stalked his social media here and there, but he was too mysterious— there was never something new on there.

“Minho” You said in a soft voice as you struggled to stay awake, his soft gaze looked at you as he sat on the edge next to you, his hand softly caressing your hair “Let's talk… someday” You sounded weak, you hated that.

The last thing you recall before blacking out was a chaste kiss on your cheek that reassured your question.

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January 9th

You woke happier than usual, filled with a lot of energy, you found it odd since you swore you blacked out last night, matter of fact you don’t even remember how you got home.

You did remember your dream vividly though, Minho taking care of you like he used to when you two were dating. Perhaps and that’s why you felt energized, you were unsure of it.

Turning on the shower you took a long steamy shower, today you wanted to feel pretty just like your mood. You even did your hair and makeup, you had nowhere important to go, but you might as well.

Once you were done you walked over to your kitchen, and thats when your heart dropped.

You could smell the fresh aroma of breakfast— walking closer to spotted a plate with french toast and berries, a cup of coffee on the side alongside a note.

“Im writing this since you probably forgot about last night, and before you freak out no we didn’t do anything, sorry I stayed the night, I just wanted to make sure you were ok, here is some breakfast in compensation.

Also lets meet up next week, I’ll send you a text with deets”

- Minho

You could feel your stomach twirling as you read the note. No way what you thought was a dream was actually real.

Honestly, you hoped he would forget about it but it's Lee Minho, something about him is that he never forgets stuff, which was a blessing and a curse considering that he never forgot any detail about you or important dates, however, he never forgot your weakness either.

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February 12th

Minho has been texting you nonstop since that night, often sending good morning texts to check on you, etc. You hated the way you woke up every day with the thought of finding his texts on your phone. His been wanting to meet up with you to have a proper conversation but to be fair you were unsure of it.

"I don't know Chaewon" You groaned as you threw your head against the table, Chaewon laughed softly as she took a sip of her coffee. "Girl look, Im in no position to talk about Minho's business, but I've heard from Jisung that he went through some hard shit even before you two broke up if anything you weren't the only one suffering," Chaewon said as she moved her gaze towards you, your head laying on the coffee table while looking out the window.

"And? I don't care that bitch made me lose myself, he can't just come back whenever he wants to" You said stubbornly standing on your own business "You know that's the biggest cap ever, you do care, and plus who said he wants to go back with you? what if he just wants to talk and finally tell you why he decided to cut off the relationship? Cause you know damn well it wasn't because he didn't love you anymore" You rolled your eyes softly at her remark.

You know she was right and you hated that. "Bitch you are supposed to be on my side, what happened to hater Chaewon?" You said frustrated making her laugh "She died the moment she learned the other side of the story," She said making you scoff "I will never get why you and Jisung refuse to tell me his side of the story"

"Because that's none of our business, Minho should be the one to tell you" You sat up straight on your chair looking defeated "Chaewon..." You spoke softly, "I'm scared" She gave you an encouraging smile "Girl, trust me..." She paused briefly taking a deep breath "The worst thing that can happen if you two meet is him leaving again but this time for good" She then took a sip of her coffee.

"Being honest it all depends on your reaction when he tells you his side of the story, but I must say you two might end up bawling your eyes" Chaewon suddenly laughed when she saw yours eyes widen.

"You'll be fine trust."

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February 14th,

After your little coffee date with Chaewon, you went home and texted Minho that you were ready to meet up and talk in person, however, should you find it suspicious that after a month of casual contact since the New Year's party, he suddenly texted you on Valentine's Day that he would drop by your house? Yes.

You were sitting on your living room couch as you re-read the text over and over, did he mean today? now? You quickly got up and rushed to your room to get ready, however, you stopped. Should you look casual? yeah, it might be Valentine's Day but he is not your date.

After sitting on the floor with a bunch of clothing options you decided to not think much about it, I mean yeah it's Valentine's Day but it's also February 14th, just another date on the calendar.

You wore your favorite pair of new balances, black track pants, and a cute crop top along with all your jewelry, like you said it's just another date on the calendar, therefore, you dressed casually. Just another day.

You arrived to the cafe downstairs your apartment. You immediately spotted him, baggy jeans with a black hoodie with the picture of a cat. Great, he was also dressed casually. Just another day.

“Hey” you said softly as you scooted on the chair in front of him. It would be weird to say this wasn’t awkward however it really wasn’t, and that just made you more uneasy about this whole interaction.

He looked up from his phone to look at you, and he smiled softly. In all honesty, it was hard for him to be here for so many reasons, and this is the main reason why he fought with himself this morning to come here and not ditch you.

Before the breakup, Minho was going through some issues on his own, which would eventually evolve to be the main reason why he left you. He knew he would hurt you sooner or later, so he decided to do it quick, leaving the situation as vague as possible as his heart imposed him from opening up to you.

“I'm sorry it took me so long to come back and clear things up” Although he sounded nonchalant you could see the pain in his eyes, maybe Minho was never open with his feelings but his eyes always spoke what he felt.

“Being honest, I couldn’t bring myself to face you, Jisung basically smacked some sense into me” He smiled awkwardly "Plus when I saw you at Binnie's party I felt it was time to stop running away" There was tension surrounding both you that made it hard to breathe.

“It’s fine… have you tried the pudding here?” Maybe you knew he was here to tell you something, but you also knew the knot in his throat was making it hard for him, so you chose to break some of the tension. Just another day.

Thinking about it, it’s kinda ironic how forgiving you are of him, he left you with no explanation, made you lose yourself and on top of that he never dared to show up again after three years and no. The cherry on top is the sex tape you have engraved deep down on your brain of him and some other bitch.

You could feel the rage boiling inside of you, but you quickly shrugged it off as he began speaking “I haven’t…” He was hesitant with his answer, something tells you that he has tried it before but he wanted to pleasure you by pretending he didn't.

You just nod as you suggest he try it, and once the waiter comes around to pick up your order, he gives you a vague smile as he orders for both of you.

Just another day. You have been sitting in this cafe with him just talking about life as if you are back in time and you two are together again. It’s smooth and pleasant, there's chuckles here and there. However, he is not talking. He is not addressing the big elephant in the room and it's bothering you, however, you stood quiet, waiting for him to feel ready.

“This might be weird, but you think he could keep talking in your apartment? I kinda want a more private place” He has always been a confident man, and you know that, however, he sounds weak and insecure, completely opposite of who he is.

Maybe and the break up also made him lose himself? Little did you know he lost himself way back before the breakup.

Once in your apartment he sat on your living room as you poured some wine for both of you, after a while of thinking you figured some alcohol would help him loose his tongue and speak fearlessly to you.

“Thanks” He muttered, immediately taking a sip of the wine. “To be fair what I’m about to tell you is not easy for me, but I know you want answers and I want to help you find them as much as I can” His voice was sincere, soft, and vulnerable, you could feel a squeeze in your heart.

“I won’t pressure you into talking” Although you tried to sound sincere and gentle, the hidden anger inside of you was slightly present in your tone. You hated yourself for being bad at hiding it.

He chuckled softly at your tone, he knew you were mad at him and so was he "I sound like a hypocrite I know, I broke up with you yet I'm the one making a big deal to just clear things up" The room was quiet for a moment, it felt cozy, the gentle sunlight from the sunset hovering over the living room, the soft breeze of spring moving the dried trees with flower buds on them, but most importantly he was there. After three years, there he sat on your couch, you wondered if he noticed you changed it, you wondered if he noticed that you changed it because of him.

His soft sigh broke the silence and darted your attention to him, he fidgeted nervously with his fingers as he kept his gaze on the window. "Do... Do you remember our life plan" You knew words had power but you never realized how much power they had. Your stomach twirled in anxiety at the memories.

The sweet memories of him and you cuddling in bed some Tuesday afternoon as you both made life plans. You nodded, biting your lip as the urge to cry became present. "How could I forget, we planned to live in a peaceful neighborhood, adopt a few cats, and raise our children with love and virtue" You chuckle softly attempting to cut whatever tension was forming in the room.

At the sound of your soft laugh, he smiled melancholically "The day we talked about our kids, made me realize how much I wanted to be a father... especially with you" He took a deep breath and your eyebrows furrowed as you listened to him.

"I... I really wanted to be a father" His voice cracks softly as his words hold an incredible amount of weight on him "So I went to my doctor to have my annual check-ups" A knot began to form on your throat as you began predicting where this was going.

"He... he told me I can't have kids" His voice broke into soft sobs "I wanted to tell you about it, but seeing how in love you were with the idea of having a baby... I couldn't... so I kept it to myself" He stood quiet as he tried to get himself together.

"My emotions eventually began fogging my brain, and I felt I had to distance myself to prevent hurting you... however, seeing how happy you were every time you saw me after days of me treating you like shit made me resent you" His voice raised with each word we spoke as his emotions began overwhelming him.

"I didn't resent you because I was mad at you, but because you still loved me after the way I treated you during our last weeks of dating" You looked at him with teary eyes while he still refused to look at you "I didn't deserve your love, yet you never stopped loving me... and I never stopped loving you either..." The silence in the room felt deafening, there were so many things you had to process, many things to take into consideration. He then grabbed the courage to move his gaze towards yours, your lips half parted in shock as the sudden confession made you feel dizzy.

"Minho... I..." You were at a loss for words, so many things to say but nothing was coming out, a single tear fell down your cheeks, your conversation with Chaewon repeating in your head, she was right both of you were about to bawl your eyes out.

"Why you never told me?" You quickly wiped the tear that rolled down your cheek, you were tired of crying for this man, you were tired of everything "Because I was scared of losing your love y/n" He screamed at you making you lose your patience.

"That's the stupidest thing I have ever heard Minho" You screamed back but then took a deep breath, trying to calm yourself down, however, you failed. "Do you know how many nights I cried for you? The amount of times I wondered what was wrong with me? You hurt me and left me, like you didn't care and you expect me to believe this was your reason? Because you can't have stupid babies?" You stopped at your last sentence when you realized what you said, you let your anger control your words and now unconsciously you stabbed a knife into Minho's wound.

He looked unfazed by your words, again he was using the mask everyone talked about, the one that never let anyone see his emotions, however, you didn't miss the way his lips slightly curled up, that's how you knew it deeply hurt him.

He scoffed softly "Stupid babies?" He laughed "I guess I lost myself over something you didn't really care about" He stood up from the couch and looked at you one more time "Sorry for wasting your time" You quickly stood up to stop him from leaving but words didn't leave your mouth as you blankly stared at him storming out your house.

"The worst thing that can happen if you two meet is him leaving again but this time for good"

Chaewon's words stroke your heart as you are left alone in your apartment.

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March 18th

"How many times do I've to tell you, I won't talk to him again" You groaned as a very exasperated Jisung paced in circles in your living room "C'mon y/n, you have to admit that what you crossed the line, I mean I understand the anger but really? did you not hear what he was telling you?" Honestly, at that moment, you felt you could smack Jisung in the face.

This past week was filled with a bunch of guilt trips not only by your friends but also by yourself "You know what Ji?" You said bluntly "I'm tired. Tired of everything, why am I suddenly the bad guy? Why does it feel like my side of the story is being invalidated?" You could feel tears creeping in your eyes.

Jisung sat down next to you as he took a deep breath "I'm sorry..." He said softly "It's just... I've seen both of you hurting for so long, I just want for both of you to finally clear things out" You understood Jisung's point, he was your and Minho's friend, he knew both points of view perfectly and you never really thought how that might of been a weight for him too.

"I get it... I also wish we could talk things out but... it's hard you know?, we both got our own wounds and it's hard to talk without making one of them bleed" You took a deep breath "That's the most poetic shit I've heard in a while" You couldn't help but laugh at his statement, nudging his shoulder playfully "Shut the fuck up" He laughed along with you.

"You think he would let me talk to him?" You said as you both stopped laughing "It would be a hard task but not impossible, his soft spot for you is one of the most loyal things I've seen" You smiled softly at his remark.

"You know... I've got an idea... so next week the 24th I have to take care of my baby nephews, however, that same day I got a final, I was going to make Minho babysit them for me, but to be fair he will definitely need help" You squinted your eyes at his suggestion "I don't know Ji..." He was quick to interrupt you "Shshshs don't say a single word you are babysitting with him"

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March 24th

Jisung left the house a couple of minutes ago, he reassured you that Minho was on his way and that he knew about it. You sat down on the play mat with the two baby twins, they were 2 and a half years old and truly a menace, they wouldn't stop moving around and crawling to be on top of you.

Although you felt overwhelmed it felt nice, playing with them made you forget about Minho and your current situation, you had one of the babies in your arms while the other one showed you some toys and spoke nonsense, you chuckled as you pretended to understand what he was saying.

When Minho entered the house, you were completely unaware of him as he stood at the entrance of the living room looking at you, looking at how domestic you looked with the babies. He couldn't help but fantasize if this is what it would feel like if he were to come home to you with your own babies.

He hated the way butterflies would rush down his body to his... 'Get it together Minho' He scolded himself, he was supposed to be mad at you not feel this way.

"You are not Chan" He finally spoke making himself present, you and the babies fixated your gaze on him and he could feel his heart melting "Huh? Jisung told me you knew you were babysitting with me" You said slightly confused.

"He lied then, he told me Chan was helping me out with the kids" You nodded awkwardly making a mental note to smack Jisung's face later. Although the tension between you and Minho was prominent, the babies made sure to keep both of you busy, constantly crying because they were hungry, needed a change of diapers, wanted attention, etc.

Both of you sat down on the couch exhausted when you managed to get them to sleep, the silence felt nice after all the noise that came from the babies, and you sighed softly "I'm sorry" it was unexpected, you didn't expect yourself to say it, it just came out, it was sincere and you hoped Minho knew.

"Sorry for what?" He said genuinely confused making you raise an eyebrow as you moved your gaze to meet his "You know... for what I said the other day, I didn't mean it I was-" He cut off your words as he chuckled softly.

"Don't worry about it, your reaction was totally valid, I mean I understand why you were mad, it's fine, you did nothing wrong" His words felt like a bandaid being placed in your heart, these past weeks you were convinced you were the bad guy, your friends reminding you your lack of understanding towards him, yet here he was all chill about and validating your feelings, it was just what you needed to hear.

You smiled warmly at him, glad he was able to see the situation from both perspectives, you envied the way he was so mature about it. "Still it was not nice the way I acted, It was immature and I know you, I know you got mad" He nodded in response "I did, and I won't lie I am still a bit salty but I understand your anger I do"

You chuckled softly and bit your lip not sure if you wanted to say this but you eventually got the courage to say it "I didn't know you really wanted to be a father" You said softly trying not to cross any boundaries "It was just a silly dream" He said making you shake your head immediately "It's not silly... You would be the perfect father" You said reassuringly.

"Bullshit" He said in a playful tone making you scoff "Bullshit? I don't know how the hell you managed to put those babies to sleep" You chuckled softly making him smile, his heart beating faster than usual at your compliment.

"Well even if I do have the potential to be a good father— I can't have babies" You noticed the way his voice cracked softly as he said those words, although he was smiling you knew those words were like daggers to his heart. "Bullshit" You said in a confident tone, he moved his gaze back to yours and raised an eyebrow "Bullshit? The doctor said-" You interrupted him before he could "Who cares what the doctor says? don't you know about rainbow babies?"

He was quiet for a while, his gaze focused on yours "We... we never tried to have one... what if" It was his turn to interrupt you "I'm tired of the 'what if' y/n" He sounded defeated and you hated that, this was not the confident man you knew.

"I'm serious though, I never knew you actually wanted to have a baby, if you had discussed it with me we could have gone to an endocrinologist and seen our options... it's not impossible Min..." You sounded frustrated making him sigh "I'm sorry for not telling you it's just, that I was too overwhelmed" He stopped talking when he felt your hand on top of his, he looked down to see them and then up at you.

A single tear rolled down his cheek as regret filled his head, regret of not telling his issue before, regret of closing up to you, when all he needed to heal was you, your reassurance, your love, and your understanding.

You both stood quiet as his tears began falling, you couldn't bare see him like this so you moved to hug him. Once his body was fully engraved on your warm embrace he began crying harder, his tears soaking down on your shirt, but you didn't care. You were finally there for him, something he restricted from himself out of pure spite.

A couple hours passed and the babies woke up again, you and Minho were playing with the kids while both of you also caught up with life, it felt nice, the tension that felt suffocating was finally released.

"Pause... So that video you sent me way back, wasn't you?" He shook his head as he played kitchen with the baby girl "This bitch blackmailed me, a month after we broke up Jisung took me to a stripper club and I might've vented to one of the strippers...." He said embarrassed as you played cars with the baby boy "Tell me the name of the strip club" You said coldly making him laugh.

"Don't worry Chaewon already dealt with her" His remark made you laugh so hard you could barely breathe. The remaining time you both stood at Jisung's house playing with the babies and talking felt nice, way more nicer than it should.

It honestly was impressive how despite the difficulties you both went through, that connection you both had never faded. Once Jisung was back home he couldn't help but smile as he saw both of you getting along.

Both of you served as bandaids to cure each other's wounds.

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March 28th

"How many times do I have to tell you it's not a date?" You told Chaewon who was on the other side of your speaker "Yeah, sure" She said in a mocking tone "Two exes going out for dinner as friends my ass" You couldn't help but laugh softly "You are insufferable" You said making her giggled.

"Says the girl who called me asking me for fashion advice for her D-A-T-E" You rolled your eyes at her remark "It's not a date!" You said frustrated as you finished putting on your dress that hugged your curves perfectly and complimented your eyes and hair.

"Yeah, Yeah, Just remember to wrap it before you tap it," Chaewon said jokingly but her comment made your stomach twirl in anticipation of something occurring tonight.

"Girl- goodbye" You said hanging up the phone before she could finish whatever the hell she was going to say next. Minutes felt like hours and you could feel anxiety rushing through you, you shouldn't be this nervous... after all it's just a friend's hangout. Right? However, waiting for him to text you felt like torture.

The sudden knock on your door took you by surprise, a shiver traveling down your spine as you took a deep breath. He was here, the amount of happiness swirling in your head felt nauseating. You thought he was going to call you to come down, but of course, he had to be the gentleman he is and personally escort you to the car.

The moment you opened the door he felt butterflies rushing down his stomach as he saw you, you looked beautiful, you truly had no idea how much he had missed you. This was supposed to be a casual hangout but the way your long-sleeved dress hugged your waist and fell free at your hips. Made his heart flutter and wish this was a date instead.

"Hey" He said with a shy smile, softly scratching his neck. You swallowed the urge to chuckle at his shy demeanor, it reminded you back to when he first approached you.

"Hey" You replied cheerfully making him smile, you could feel your own nervousness leaving as you realized he was in your same position. Minho and you decided to do some errands first before going to the movies, the car ride was surprisingly pleasing, you both seemed to have so much to talk about. The soft music playing in the background as you casually averted your eyes from him to the window as he spoke.

You weren't quite sure what exactly he was saying, but the melody of his voice was welcomed by your ears. The first stop was the pet shop, while Minho made his way to the cat section to buy his cat's food, you took a turn to see the little animals, your heart melting at the sight of the lovely animals on display. As you read the description of each animal, you couldn't understand how a human out there would purposely abandon such cuties.

Maybe you were too invested in the animals you didn't notice him calling your name, it wasn't until you felt a warm hand on your back and butterflies rushing down your stomach that you turned around to meet his eyes. "All done?" You asked as you looked at his hand that was carrying the cat food. "Yup" He said with a smile "No toys for the babies?" You asked playfully, however his heart skipped a beat at the question, making him wonder why he felt like this.

"They already have enough," He said with a chuckle as you squinted your eyes and shook your head "They deserve to be spoiled, but you are their father so whatever" You giggled as you both walked to the cashier. Again Minho wondered why his heart kept missing a beat with each word you spoke.

He wasn't expecting anything from tonight, he truly just wanted to spend time with you after so long, make your relationship better... as friends of course, but the more he interacted with you the more desperate his heart turned for you.

The moment you both sat in the movie theater it was an instant regret for Minho to have suggested it. Memories flooded both of your minds as you both sat next to each other. MInho cleared his throat and looked at you. "Popcorn?" He offered you with a thin smile, you wanted to laugh at that moment, if he was trying to make the situation less awkward he was failing to do so.

"No, I'm fine" You said in a soft whisper as the movie began. The whole time you couldn't really focus on whatever movie was on display, your gaze kept averting to his hand that rested on his leg. You hated yourself for wishing his hand was on your leg instead.

Take it slow.

You kept reminding yourself, this was a hangout as friends nothing more, it hurts slightly the thought of it, but after the complicated situation you both faced this past years, it was better to take things slow, who knows maybe you both will end up together? maybe not? whatever destiny the world was for you both.

Minho didn't know if he was tripping or not but he swore he could see you looking at his hand, to be fair he wasn't paying attention to the movie either he was too focused looking at your every move with his peripheral vision. he thought you might be cold as your legs were exposed to the theater air conditioner, so he took his jacket off and gently placed it on your legs.

The action took you by surprise the warm jacket on your legs did feel nice, and as he placed it on you, you could smell his scent all over you, how much have you missed that scent. You leaned closer to him, your breath hitting his cheek as you spoke a soft "Thank you"

That moment felt like pure temptation to Minho, they say God likes to test his strong soldiers, however, Minho was 100% sure he was not his strongest soldier when it came to you.

Soft moans echoed in the theater, both of your bodies stiffened as a sex scene came up, honestly what's the deal with movie franchises adding unnecessary sex scenes in their movies? Can we talk about it? At that moment you could feel a tension forming between both of you, was it awkwardness, or was it a hidden desire? You don't know but you closed your legs together trying to stop any lustful thoughts from popping on your mind.

You noticed the way he shifted on his seat awkwardly, looking at his phone to check the weather, you chuckled to yourself, feeling playful you leaned to tease him "Can't handle a sex scene hm?" You chuckle softly, he moves his gaze from his phone to look at you. His desire woke up with each word you said.

You were going to tease him? two can play that game, was it a dangerous move? maybe, but fuck it, let the night take whatever route it wants.

He turned to face you and leaned closer, his face just inches away from yours, you took a second to admire his eyes and features, you never forgot how handsome this man was from up close. "It's not that I can't handle the scene, I just can't handle my inner thoughts" The tone and the look he gave you was more than enough to let you know what he was thinking.

You were both on the same page. Involuntarily you squeezed your thighs together, he noticed, his eyes looking down at your covered legs, he smirked making you nudge his shoulder "Focus on the movie" You scolded him as you turned your attention back to the movie, not missing the way butterflies twirled around stomach and the evident heat on your cheeks.

The ride to your house was quiet, there was a tension lingering in there, but unlike the heavy uncomfortable one, this one was a little more light-headed, more enticing. Your footsteps were the only sound echoing through the hallway to your apartment, he followed behind you, he wasn't too close but he was close enough for you to feel his warmth and presence.

When you opened the door you turned to look at him, the silence felt deafening, both of you stared at each other, you didn't miss the way his eyes slightly moved to get a glimpse of your lips. You were both desperate to feel each other, that was no secret, but who would make the first move? most importantly was it the right time to make a move?

Your thoughts were interrupted when his hand flew to your waist and pushed you closer to his body, his lips crashing against yours. You felt on cloud 9, suddenly everything felt more vivid you could swear hearts and stars were flying around you both.

His soft plump lips felt as if a feather was brushing against your lips, it felt tender, full of love yet you wanted more, you needed more. When he moved his lips away from yours a soft whine escaped your lips, making you embarrassed.

Although he wanted to laugh his worries took over him, he looked at your eyes for ay sign of discomfort, maybe even regret but he saw none. "I'm sorry, I know its too soon-" His words were interrupted as you placed a finger on his lips.

"Too soon?" Maybe it was soon but to be fair you have been waiting for this kiss for some time now, so yeah maybe it was soon, but rhetorically it wasn't, you waited long enough. And if he feels the same way you do, what is really stopping you?

"Min..." He felt his breath hitching at how lovely his nickname escaped your lips, it's been so long since he last heard it... it felt nostalgic. "I'm not sure if it's too soon for you, but to be honest I've waited long enough for that kiss" Before you had the chance to say another word, his lips were on yours again, and this time he pushed your body inside your apartment and closed the door behind, his lips not daring to leave yours in case you realized you didn't want this.

As the kiss progressed you could feel your knees turning weak, the way he caressed your waist while his other hand was on your cheek was enough to send you down a spiral, however when you felt his warm tongue brushing against your bottom lip, desperately asking for access inside your mouth was when you lost it.

He groaned softly as his tongue danced with yours, you began feeling light-headed, maybe it was because of lack of air but you didn't care you didn't want to leave his lips.

"Y/n..." He said in a pleading tone as he panted for air once the kiss broke, his eyes looked darker than normal yet they looked tender, his body was still pressed against yours, his hand moving up and down your sides. "I need you" Your heart dropped as your blood rushed through your body. This night was going to take a different route.

You were currently leaning back against the wall while he left a trail of wet pecks on your neck, your body shivered as the delicate kisses fogged your mind, it was a sensation you couldn't really describe. A groan left your lips as he nibbled on the soft spot you used to love, he remembered. "Aren't you getting greedy?" Although you wanted to tease him your voice was shaky, too high in the ecstasy of having his lips attached to your neck.

"I'm sorry princess, you have no idea how bad I'm craving you" He said in a low tone as he nibbled your lobe, your eyes closed shut and a soft whimper was heard, he pressed his body harder against yours, too desperate and touched deprived for you. "Fuck" He mumbled when his erection brushed against your crotch, your dress rolling up as he grinded on your vaguely.

The wave of wetness that pools between your thighs immediately soaks your underwear. It takes every bit of your lingering self-control to not moan at the sensation.

Even so, the desire and lust took over your body with each minute passing, his hands traveled up and down your legs, pausing to lift and wrap your leg around his hip. So this is what heaven feels like. It's been so long since you last felt like this. You nearly moaned as you felt his erection pushing against your pelvis.

His face was at the crook of your neck as his desperate whimpers traveled through your body. "Oh fuck—" Your mind went blank, losing yourself at the delight of his touch you began whimpering.

"Can we go to my room?" You hid your face when he shifted to look at you, too shy to look him in the eyes. It's been so long since you both were intimate, yet you never lost that alluring presence that hypnotized Minho every time.

"Whatever my princess desires" He said softly as he looked down at you, your soft blush and trembling body, the way your dress was messy because of how desperate he was touching you, sent a rush of heat down his dick.

He grabbed you bride-style as he walked to your room, opening the door your sweet scent embraced his nose, he was getting drunk on you. He gently placed you down on the bed, the fairy lights of your room plus the soft moonlight that crept through the windows added to the vibe going on.

You could see his sharp features as he hovered on top of you, he moved your hair gently out of your face and giggled "I've missed you" he said in a tender tone before he leaned to leave pecks all over your face, you giggled along him until his lips crashed on yours.

The kiss was slow yet passionate, taking your time to taste each other properly, the string of saliva created wet sounds that echoed in the room, he took this time that you were distracted as an opportunity to spread your legs with his hand, his soft fingertips leaving ghostly touches all over your legs and inner thighs.

Three years and he still knew how to get you ready for him, although you had been ready ever since you two started making out at your front door. He broke the kiss to move down your body, his intense gaze never leaving yours, as he began kissing your legs, in a painfully slow rhythm, he knew what he was doing, he wanted to get you all needy for him.

However, he was also making this hard for himself, as he was also getting impatient, he moved back up so he could nibble on your neck, soft moans escaping your lips, making a sweet melody for his ears. His body involuntarily pressed against yours Yours and his moans bleed into one another as your clothed cores come into contact. Minho's fingers tightened on your leg, it was definitely gonna bruise overnight.

You wonder if he can feel the extent of your wetness against the front of his jeans, as your dress had rolled up and you were basically on just your panties, all thoughts are chased away when he drags his finger on top of your drench mound. "Fuck princess" He hisses, his hand beside your head tightening into a fist, his face pressed against your neck "Feeling how wet your pussy is for me is making it hard for me to just not cum" How you loved the chokehold you had on this man right now.

His words only motivate your intentions, thrusting your hips into his fingers, desperate to create some type of friction. Seeking more leverage, you wrapped your legs around his waist pressing him against your clothed cunt. His face traveled down your collarbone sucking and biting on it as he hand massaged your breasts.

"Fine. I’ll give you what you want” He said breathlessly as he sat to take his pants off, your gaze never left his as you admired his body, he was indeed the man of your dreams, you pressed your thighs together and bit your lip.

A loud moan escaped your lips when his tip tap on your clothed cunt. He moved it up and down your drenched panties to coat his dick with your arousal. You both breathed heavily at the sensation. He looked at you for reassurance, his priority was your comfort and that made him even hotter at that moment, you nodded your head and smiled at him, letting him know that you wanted this as much as him.

He teased you by gliding his hands up and down your inner thighs but not touching your cunt, when your moans got desperate, he moved his index finger up and down your slit, he then used that finger to move your panties aside, he felt his cock twitching at the sight of your wet pussy.

He leaned closer to blow on it and then gave it a kiss "I missed what mine" He said possessively as he bit your inner thigh, you moaned at that, you felt loved something you hadn't felt in quite some time.

The way your warm cunt clenched on his tip was making it hard for him to go slow, he wanted to go slow and stretch you out properly since you didn't let him give your foreplay due to your impatience. But how could he restrain himself when your hand is playing with your clit in front of him?

And oh god you were indeed the devil because of the way you desperately moaned his name so he would go all in, if it wasn't for your greediness he would have done way more than just put his cock deep inside you, but he couldn't say no to you, not when you have full control of his body and mind.

The lewd sounds embraced the room, the sloppy sound of your arousal and the thump of his pelvis hitting yours turning both of you even more. His lips crashed into yours as he felt his cock deep inside your wall, he kissed you passionately, his hand leaving a feather touch on your leg.

Although everything felt so sudden, it felt right. The passion the lust everything. It felt like the best timing despite the previous circumstance, lord how badly you missed him, and not only for his cock but for the way he always made you feel like a princess, you were his queen.

It wasn’t until his kisses got sloppier that you knew he was close to cum, you grabbed his hair and squeezed it tightly as your back arched, the feeling of his cock twitching was sending you to cloud 9 and it made your mind blank as moans left your mouth shamelessly.

If you thought he couldn’t go any deeper you were wrong. His dick rubbed that spot that’s been getting teased for a while now. He pressed his hand on your stomach just so he could see how deep his dick was inside you. And oh lord the sight of his dick drove him to the edge.

You both cling to one another as your high approach one after another. Minho's groan triggered a release that spilled white-hot bliss through your veins. The feeling of your cunt clenching around him made you pant for air, you both stayed still for some minutes.

He then began kissing your neck again which made you chuckle, as you moved to play with his hair. "Can we start over?" His voice was shaky, you could tell the question triggered some anxiety in him, you moved your hand to caress his neck to soothe his nerves.

"Asking me that while I'm cock warming you is crazy" You tease him making him groan "I'm serious... I want to take you out on dates again, I need you in my life again" His words triggered something inside you making you clench your cunt, he moaned as he was still sensible, making you blush embarrassed "Sorry" You mumbled making him laugh.

"I'll take that as a yes" He said making you laugh, his lips attaching to yours once again. "How about we do a round two but you let me see them..." He stopped talking to squeeze your breast, you chuckled playfully as you pecked his lips.

"Anything my prince desires" You said before wrapping your arms around his neck and kissing his lips. Time might've separated the two of you, but the bond you both had was stronger than any misunderstanding.

I kindly ask for your support to ease my suffering and help me achieve my delayed dreams❤🙏🏻

Hello, I am Kenzi, 17 years old. I once carried big dreams and saw a bright future ahead of me, but the war has taken everything from me. This year was pivotal in my life—my final school year, after which I was supposed to enter university and fulfill my dream of becoming a doctor.

Now, those dreams seem distant, like a mirage, and hope fades with each passing day. Yet, despite everything, I still try to hold on to a glimmer of hope, believing that the end of this suffering will come one day, and I will find my way again toward achieving my dream

Help me restore my life, achieve my goal, and save the rest of my family

gofundme.com

Donate to Help my family survive and start a new life, organized by Hazem friend

Hello everyone, I hope you take a minute to read our story. I’m Ha… Hazem friend needs your support for Help my family survive an

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♡Knight To Remember - Seungmin

MINORS DNI 18+ ONLY MEMBERSHIP//M.LIST

pairing: knight! Seungmin x princess! reader

summary: Your parents set up a competition for all the knights in the kingdom and said whoever wins it wins your hand. Your childhood enemy has entered just to piss you off but what happens when he unexpectedly wins?

warnings: hurt/comfort, angst, tooth-aching fluff

Knights and noblemen from the entire kingdom had made an appearance. They had trained, bartered and bought their way into this competition. All for your hand in marriage. It wasn't that they were after. This long line of eligible men weren't your true loves. When they looked at you, they saw the crown. A shining symbol of money and power. Marrying you was just a technicality. An added responsibility they each of them would ignore the moment the wedding ceremony was finished. You would rot away in that castle just as your mother had. And there wasn't a thing you could do about it.

The first pairing stepped forward. An experienced knight that everyone knew by name. The crowd roared and cheered him on and he soaked up every moment. His opponent matched him in size but not popularity. The match was over in a few moments with Mr. Popular coming out the victor. “Who's next?” He shouted, his confidence growing by the second.

Some of the other knights instinctively stepped backwards, not wanting to risk the almost certain humiliation of going against such a distinguished knight. You sighed heavily as you watched the other men look around at each other, unsure what to do.

“I'll take you on, big guy.” A voice rang from the crowd with a familiar tone. You leaned over your balcony to see him, Seungmin, stepping into the ring. His gloved hand gripped tight around the handle of his sword and he moved his feet into practiced positioning.

Seungmin was exceptionally skilled as he was irrefutably stubborn. He had been asked by many to join their individual cause and help them fight, but Seungmin always brushed them off. Must have enjoyed the company of free drink and free women more than fighting for his kingdom. What a pig. You turned your nose and your back as Seungmin readied himself. But you still peered over your shoulder still, figuring it would give you some sort of entertainment to see him get his ass kicked.

Seungmin raised his sword in proper knightsmen etiquette, signaling that he was ready to begin. Mr. Popular stepped forward as well. He was noticeably taller than Seungmin. “Are you sure? I don't want to embarrass you in front of such a beautiful princess.” The knight boomed, gesturing to you in the balcony above the arena. Seungmin turned his head towards you and smiled. A smile you knew all too well. A smile that promised more mischief was to come. He bowed to you like a gentleman. You rolled your eyes in response. “Ready when you are.” Seungmin said, addressing the knight. Although his eyes never left yours as he spoke.

“It's not like I killed him.” Seungmin laughed as he pulled off his remaining armor. You stood together in your father's study. The entire kingdom was already filling up the castle with cheers of congratulations. The halls were echoing with Seungmin's name. In a panic, you pulled him in here to try to get an explanation out of him. “Do you realize what you've just done?” You were searing with anger. Seungmin moved to a small shelf with a bottle and some glasses and poured himself a drink. “Of course I realize it.”

You groaned in frustration as he moved casually. “You really do hate me, don't you?” You snapped. Seungmin sat across from you in a lounge chair that was almost always reserved for your father. He swirled a glass of wine, his long fingers clinging to the rim. A slow smirk spread across his lips.

“Is that what you think? That I hate you?” He said finally, standing up from the chair and making his way to you. He closed the gap between the two of you almost instantly. Like he was impatient now. Like waiting any longer to touch you was no longer an option.

Your body reacted immediately, stepping away from him and inching closer to the wall behind you. “Yes, that's what I think.” You whispered. Your voice was breathier now, like Seungmin had willed the air out of the room. His armor was gone now. But more than the iron helmet and the steel plates that he carried heavy while he battled. He was stripped away now. His broad shoulders and muscular arms filled the tunic that billowed and swayed as he moved. He looked vulnerable. Like the boy that threw rocks at your window in the middle of the night to tell you to sneak out. The boy who picked on you when you wore your fanciest dress. The boy that pulled your hair and ran away. “I don't hate you,” his eyes were hooded and dark. His pupils dilated from the dim lighting of the candles. “If I hated you, I would've let one of those fucking pricks win.” He took a long sip of his wine. His eyes stayed locked onto yours. “What do you mean?” You tilted your head, genuinely taken back by his response.

“Do you really think I'd let one of those entitled assholes marry you? Do you think they care about you? Do they know your favorite food? Or how you sneak desserts from the kitchen before dinner is served? Or that you are terrified of thunderstorms? No. And they will never care to learn those things. I can't leave your happiness up to someone else. That is my responsibility.”

Your breath was short and shallow like you needed to cry, or scream, or run away. “Your responsibility?” You snapped back, unsure of what you were feeling anymore.

“That's right,” Seungmin brought his hand up to your chin, gripping it firmly so you would really hear him this time. “ You're my responsibility.”

You wanted to push him backwards, scream that you are no one's responsibility. You wanted to tell him that you don't need anyone for anything… but your heart pushed past your head and grabbed the steering wheel, aiming you directly into his arms. Your hands cupped his face and pulled him into a deep, longing kiss. A kiss that started hard and desperate but then slowly turned into something more delicate and soft. His mouth would move into yours and your lips would respond the same. His hands made their way through your hair, down your neck and finally rested on your hips. Every breath you took mingled with him. The kiss never breaking in fear that this was all a dream and the moment you stopped you'd awake in your bed married to someone entitled asshole.

Seungmin grabbed you by the back of your thighs and pulled you up and around him. He held you so close to his chest you could feel his heart beating. His lips moved down from your mouth and lined your jawline and neck. Soft pecks gave way to hungry bites. Smooth caressing of his fingers gave way to impatient scratching and pulling. You reflexively rut your hips into him, the clothes between you seemingly like the worst torture imaginable.

“Where's Seungmin? I have to congratulate my new son-in-law!” Your father demanded from another room. You pulled back and in an instant so did Seungmin. He continued to hold you, your foreheads pressed against each other as you both attempted to slow your breathing back to normal. Your eyes flickered up to his and with a smile he knew what you wanted to say. He knew you and you were his now. His princess. His responsibility.

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𐙚 just friends ⋆ l.f x reader

pairing: fwb! lee felix x gender neutral! reader genre: angst, smau, smut warnings: friends with benefits ⋆ no happy ending ⋆ swearing ⋆ special guests: bang chan & lee know ⋆ chan is called chris ⋆ vaguely written sex ⋆ riding (mentioned) ⋆ oral sex (male & gn recieving) ⋆ moody / mean felix ⋆ felix has an ex ⋆ felix is an asshole ⋆ short scenes ⋆ self gaslighting wc: 2.3k synopsis: becoming friends with benefits with felix wasn't a bad idea. that's what you convinced yourself when it started. nothing would change. (that was a lie.) request: hii is your request slot still open? if its not feel free to ignore my request. Soo Im thinking about fwb angst yk? Like maybe Seungmin or Felix. I would rly rly appreciate it if u did the request, have a nice day!! author's note: i wouldn’t call this full on smut but i did write some less descriptive sex scenes. the focus is more on the angst. also felix is mean. i said that once but i'm gonna say it again. (ps. there's no redemption arc pt. 2 because i actually enjoy the suffering of this.)

© dollracha do not copy reupload or repost.

you always thought that most friends with benefits situations would be secret; that you’d sneak around behind your friend’s backs, careless yet careful to make sure they never found out. lee felix proved you wrong.

you’re out at the bar with your friends, he’s got his arm around you. after a few drinks, he’s suggesting you come home with him. or you’re at home on a saturday morning and he asks you to come grocery shopping with him, just for the company. whenever you’re out with your friends, it’s more likely than not that felix is at your side.

all of your friends know about your situation with felix. you used to be embarrassed, but that washed away quickly. you don’t feel anything about it, or at least you try not to. 

⋆ ⋆ ⋆

“are you two together or something?” chris asks, his face twisted with confusion. it’s a reasonable question. felix has you pulled into his lap. he’s been fiddling with the pendant on your necklace for a few minutes. the two of you have been receiving looks from your friends, entirely noticed by you while felix remains unaware. 

“no?” he drops your pendant, and looks at chris like he’s an idiot for insinuating it. “nobody has a problem when lee know hyung grabs your ass. but suddenly because i’m holding y/n everyone’s got a problem?”

“what?” minho doesn’t move as he glares at felix. ‘the audacity of this kid…’ 

“no one’s got a problem.” chris intervenes between them before it has the chance to escalate. “it was just a question, mate.” 

felix practically shoves you off his lap to stand. you stumble as you try not to fall. “they’re obviously not my fucking partner.” he spits, and heads straight for the door. it stings. you know your dynamic, it’s nothing romantic. you’re just best friends who can’t keep their hands off each other. that doesn’t stop the hurt.

you look between your friends, and felix, and back again. “i’m gonna go make sure he’s okay.” chris shakes his head, but doesn’t say a word nor stop you.

you catch up to felix just before before the elevator door shuts. “felix,” he doesn’t spare you a glance. “wha—” he interrupts you. “—it’s bullshit. they’re all cozy with each other. no problem. that’s fine. but when it comes to me there’s a bunch of questions and shit?” he turns to you finally, posing the question and finally remembering to hit the button for the first floor.

“it was one question, felix.” you try to calm him down, it probably won’t work. he’s been very sensitive to the topic of relationships as of recent. “i don’t think chris is necessarily wrong for asking, and–”

“so you think he has the right to be in my business?” 

“no. that’s not what i said.”

“then what is it?”

“you were a little rough. chris wasn’t rude. you took an unwarranted shot at minho. they’re our friends.” 

“you’re my friend too and you don’t pull that shit.” anyone else would think he was brushing off your point, but you know he’s getting it. he’s reaching out to pull you close, and then the elevator door opens. he walks out first, and spares a glance behind him. 

“come home with me?” he asks, and you nod. 

“let’s go.”

  ⋆ ⋆ ⋆

he’s not always moody, but the 'what are we?' talk always manages to put him in a mood. most of the time, you two are just friends, who fuck each other on the side. nothing more. 

that’s how it started. felix was a few weeks free from a bad breakup. he was pent up, needed to relieve the stress, anger and sadness bottled up inside of him. and there you were, sitting on his couch like a godsend. it started slow. he pulls you into his arms like he has many times before. friends, cuddling together. until it’s not. his hand rests on your knee, it slowly makes its way up your thighs. you only realize how hot his touch makes you feel when his fingers sneak under the hem of your shorts.

“can i?” he asks, his lips brushing against your ear. 

a part of you (that, maybe, you should have listened to) tells you to say no. but you don’t. you nod your head, and for good measure, you say “yes.”

felix decides to try his luck further, his other hand grips your chin, and forces you to look at him. there’s a hunger in his eyes, like he’s ready to devour you whole given the chance. “can i kiss you?” he practically is, his lips brush against yours as he speaks. 

you knew it wouldn’t mean anything. you always took felix as a romantic. the fact that he was so willing to touch you with no ado made everything clear: this was a one time hookup. were you using him, in his emotionally fragile, pent up state? was he using you? you weren’t sure. 

“yes,” it’s another stupid decision, but it doesn’t feel quite wrong when his lips are against yours. when he kisses you with such need, such urgency. you lose all thoughts of moral, of rationale. all that matters is felix.

a few minutes of eager kissing is all he can stand. he slips his shirt off, and pushes up the hem of yours then hesitates. “can i?” again, you should have said no. you don’t.

“please,”

it’s a blur after that. he takes your shirt off. then it’s your shorts, your underwear. he makes you cum on his mouth. he’s reveling in the way you grip his hair, the way you moan his name like it’s the only one that you know. it makes him feel wanted, needed. like for once, in the past few months, he’s doing something right.

he’s got you itching to return the favor, to feel the weight of him on your tongue, taste him and feel as he hits the back of your throat. felix gets impatient. he grips your hair and fucks into your mouth. his cock hits the back of your throat and you tear up. he’s quick to soothe your tears, “i caused them, ‘s only right.” he says.

as he cums, he holds you in place. he looks up at the ceiling, groaning as you take his load. it’s not your name he moans. it’s his ex’s. it gets caught in his throat like a strangled sob–refusing to come out, yet refusing to stay inside. you both pretend it didn’t happen.

for now, it’s all he wants. you continue with your movie night as if nothing happened. 

⋆ ⋆ ⋆

it’s almost a routine now. you hook up at least twice a week. he’s always the one to invite you over. sometimes it’s a relief. you’re stressed about something going on in your life and he’s a perfect distraction. other times, he’s the one making your life harder. he’s begging you to come over late, and your problem? you can’t say no. you have the freedom to. you know he’d pout for a second, before telling you to sleep well and you’ll hang out later. 

and when you do come over, which it’s unlikely that you won’t succumb to his request, he’s on you immediately. he doesn’t waste time stripping you, taking you to the bed when he’s patient, and the couch when he can’t wait another moment to have you. 

one thing that felix doesn’t do, is mark you. he’ll kiss you with vigor. he’ll suck at your skin, bite at your chest, but it’s all done with just enough gentleness that your skin remains unmarked. you know, you check in the mirror like you’ll wake up one morning and discover his love lasts on your skin. it’s the disconnect between love and lust. if he loved you, maybe he’d claim you as such. he’d mark your skin with red and purple hickeys. he doesn’t love you. you know that.

you don’t love him as anything more than a friend. you should stop dreaming about things reserved for lovers when you’re just friends.

⋆ ⋆ ⋆

sometimes, there’s a domestic bliss that settles between the two of you. It really has you thinking that you could be his. you’ll be in his kitchen, his hands are wrapped around your waist as you cook a quick, late dinner. his head rests on your shoulder and he sways you to the music you put on. 

or you’re cuddling in his bed. he’s the big spoon and you’re the little spoon. he has a pillow propped over his arm, his other hand draped over your waist. you’re talking about everything and nothing, all at once. the weather. his childhood. your first pet. the weirdness of sourdough starter. 

you know that the only love between the two of you is the kind friends share. 

screw the kisses that are so sweet they make you think he’s in love with you. screw the way he moans your name now as he cums. the way he looks up at you as you ride him, something so hungry, so insatiable in his big doe eyes. screw way he holds you as you come down from your high, his hands stable and firm on your shaking hips. it keeps you from floating off into a realm, a universe where lee felix could actually love you like the romantic you’ve seen him be for everyone else he’s had in his bed. there’s no way any of it could be love. at least, that’s what you keep telling yourself. if he hadn’t made it abundantly clear to everyone you know that you’re ‘just friends’, you might have mistaken the lust in his eyes for love. every lie becomes true once you repeat it enough. every hope, every desire gets crushed once met with the cruel fist of reality one too many times.

do you punish yourself with the facade that he loves you, or the facade that he doesn’t? either way, you can’t resist him. you can’t say no. he needs you. or is it you that needs him? who gets hurt when nothing was ever supposed to be at stake? if you’re an addict, lee felix is your drug, and you’ve not yet seen the consequences of taking too much.

⋆ ⋆ ⋆

six months fly by quickly. six months of being friends with benefits with felix. to the date. it’s a normal day, though you don’t see him. you don’t talk to him. you haven’t talked to him since yesterday afternoon. 

the only warning when glass breaks, is the fall. felix’s absence is the fall. the ‘ping!’ of a text message is the impact on the ground, the shatter into a million pieces.

you should have known better than to think it was going to last. really, what did you expect? felix to confess his love to you, rose petals on the bed and candlelight? every good thing comes to an end. whatever you had with felix was never an exception.

it’s not like you loved him, though. like you had that kind of fantasy. it just felt like a breach of your friendship for him to run back to his ex, and not say a word.

you can’t help the anger that takes over. felix was seeing his ex again? after seven months of being apart. he’s running back into those arms. it disgusts you, so much so that you feel your stomach churn. it makes you want to throw up.

you're crying and you don't even know why. there was nothing going on between you two. everything in the past few months meant nothing. right?

wrong. it was something. you couldn't quite explain it, but it was worth far more than going back to a shitty ex.

usually, when felix causes your tears, he's there to wipe them away. they're because of everything he's doing right. this time, it's all wrong; he's not here to dry them up either.

you know chris wouldn’t lie to you. you also know felix wouldn’t keep that from you.

or would he?

© dollracha do not copy reupload or repost.

( drabble ) he knows ̨ ! ୨୧ 一 김승민 ՞

⸃ ⸰ ⌁ thinking you can get over on him too bad he knows your body better ヾ

harddom!seungmin・ fem!reader ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ g ・ smut ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ cw ・ ‎ rough sex , degradation, unprotected sex‎ ‎ wc ・ ‎0.6k ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎| ‎ ‎click to library

「 ୨୧ authors note 」 for all the seungmin stans out there<3

if seungmin liked to do one thing when he was fucking you; it was edging you. there was never a time he wasn't bringing you tears by fucking you just to the edge — only to come to a full stop , your blissful orgasm ripped from you.

and to make it worse , you were fully aware that he was gonna ruin your orgasm; because he made you tell him when you were cumming — you swore he got off on that the most , the fact that you submitted yourself to him that much , you allowed him to do this to you … this was all about to change.

“fuck you're slutty little pussy is so tight.” your boyfriend had you folded in half , pounding into you , his cock hitting deep inside you , your boobs bouncing as he fucked into you. “you like my cockk stretching you out like this?” you nodded dumbly. “fuck minnie so much , please don't stop!” you screamed , he smirked. “who's gonna stop me baby?” he asked. “not you baby you're so fucked out , you can't even talk properly.”

you babbled nonsense , his cock clouding all your senses. “you know what to do slut , tell me when you're about to cum.” you sobbed out , knowing what was coming , he was gonna pull out of you , laughing as you cried for him to put his cock back inside your needy hole; you didn't want him to, you knew you could've told him your safe word and he would've kept going , but you wanted to be a brat for once , if he could do what he did , why couldn't you?

except you didn't even bother to realize your boyfriend knew your body; so even though you remained silent , the way you were dripping and tightening around him , your eyes rolling to the back of your head — he could tell you were about to cum. “fucking slut.”

you knew you were in trouble; feeling him slip out of you , ruining your orgasm anyway , his hands coming up to your neck. “you think you can get away with shit like that?” he slapped your sensitive cunt. “you think i don't know when you're about to cum?” your eyes were wide. “m’sorry minnie.” you whimpered. “i just wanted to cum.” you yelped as he slapped your sticky cunt again. “and who are you to decide when you cum?” he asked. “this pussy is mine , you don't get to make those decisions.”

he flipped you over , lifting your hips up. “my fucking pussy.” you felt his hand coming down on your ass. “fuck minnie!” you shouted. “you wanna cum so bad?” he lined himself up with your hole. “cum.” his cock slamming inside you , you screamed , his hands coming up to your hair , pulling your head back , plowing inside you. “that's it slut , cum.” he hissed. “cum.”

you screamed out in pleasure as he abused your cervix , his cock bullying inside you. “fuck im cumming!” you screamed , cumming all over him. “fuck , you're soaking me.” he cursed , his thrust never letting up , you moaned. “m-minnie , i came.” you stuttered. “sl-slow down.” he pressed your head down against the pillows. “you were the whore that wanted to cum so bad.” overstimulation taking over. “so cum , im letting you cum.” you felt another orgasm approaching. “fuck minnie im cumming again!”

he still didn't stop; in fact he went harder , you were surprised at how he was able to keep going , he hadn't even cum yet. “to-too much.” you whimpered , he let out a tsk. “you wanted to cum , now you can't take it.” he growled. “too bad , you know your safeword , use it if not, shut up and take my cock slut.” you moaned out , letting him use you. “exactly.”

“you wanna cum? you're gonna cum until your messy pussy can't cum anymore.”

©LUVYENI translations to other sites prohibited, reblogs are appreciated but not forced !

AHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

An eye for an eye.

assassin!hyunjin x journalist!yn. slow burn. suggestive and angsty at times. she/her pronouns. 7.4k.

it is perhaps the most decisive night of your life. what are the odds that at the same time and place, it happens to be hyunjin’s too?

warnings: mention of alcohol, guns, bruises and injuries. brief talks of grief.

a.n: this is prompted by how hot villain hyunjin looks in the ate era 😭 it was supposed to be a drabble and i didn’t plan on it to be this long.. but i hope you’ll enjoy reading tehee it’s different from anything i’ve ever written so please feedback would be so appreciated,, muah muah 😘❣️

A ruby red lipstick. 

Your first childhood dream was to become a journalist, but not the complacent, obedient kind. You wanted to shed light on uncovered events, dig into the raw truth with your claws, and hold it up for the entire world to witness. You craved justice. You never believed in letting things flow their way, like a current that morphs into a torrent, destroying everything in its path.

No, you were a dam, forcing the water to change its trajectory. After all, you have always believed that all it took for change to happen was a trigger, a single flicker that would in turn burst into flames.

You wished to be it.

It was hard to grow into this specific kind of journalist, though. Not because you lacked drive, passion, or discipline. Especially not because you weren’t curious enough, brave enough. You were Seoul Press’s youngest and brightest reporter, after all.

But in a highly competitive field, you still needed your big story, your breakthrough which would put you on the radar of esteemed awards that all journalists venerate. Though you deemed it much easier to obtain a Pulitzer than to squelch your heart’s quest for truth, justice, and most importantly, in an unpredictable curb that life threw at you— revenge.

Your second childhood dream was to put on ruby red lipstick. Your thirteen-year-old self deemed it the ultimate show of power and confidence, each time you saw your aunt wearing one to her most important meetings. You dreamed of the day you could put it on as well, on your way to uncover the truth. 

And tonight, as you applied your ruby lipstick precisely, gliding the vibrant color across your lips, you felt nerves tighten like thorny vines in your stomach, puncturing your tender skin and leaving you a bloodied mess from within. 

Tonight, in your black gown and your ruby lipstick, in San Heo’s mansion, your country’s most prominent presidential candidate, and the man who ruined your life, it seemed like you were about to achieve both dreams at once.

… 

The clock hand points nine on Hyunjin’s Tank Louis Cartier watch. He throws a fleeting glance at the Victorian watch, before eyeing the people mingling at San Heo’s party. 

He knows all of the guests, memorized their faces and their habits. He knows the school where they drop off their kids and what bar they frequent every Sunday. He memorized their mannerisms and antics, knows what set them off and what did not.

This is the fruit of two years of work, after all.

He knows exactly why everyone is here, tonight particularly. Three politicians’ families and friends gathered as a show of power, to prove that they weren’t afraid of whoever’s been forcing politicians to come clean about their crimes for the past three months.

In the least glamorous manner, at that too, to put it delicately—ten bloodied tapes sent to the country’s most prominent media channels, where ministers and heads of multinationals are bound by ropes to a chair, recalling their most heinous crimes: money laundering and embezzlement for most, theft and murder for some.

The latter is Jung Cho’s case, San’s most successful competitor for the presidency, who has also mysteriously vanished from the police’s grasp since the release of his tape. No one can get a hold of poor Jung Cho anymore. 

Hyunjin smirks lightly to himself. His knuckles seem to have healed well since he last dislocated Jung Cho’s jaw. Well, that was before he shot him through the roof of his mouth.

The golden cuffs of Hyunjin’s Versace blazer reflect the light of the dangling crystal chandeliers, and he runs a weary hand through his black locks. He never chose to gel them back; he wasn’t one for structure, preferring the feeling of his silky strands brushing against his fingers. 

His eyes catch those of San’s across the room, who tips his glass of whiskey towards Hyunjin—a job well done, he reads in San’s stare. Hyunjin raises his red wine back, before settling it across the table once more.

It is a boring half an hour that awaits Hyunjin.

That is until he sees you.

You weren’t here two minutes ago, Hyunjin is sure of this. And, judging by the way you are leisurely sipping your sparkling water, your eyes gliding across the room in search of someone in particular, you had just stepped foot into the party.

Fashionably late, if he were to add.

But that is none of Hyunjin’s concern. What intrigues him the most is that your face isn’t familiar to him. That isn’t normal.

You weren’t supposed to be here, then.

Who are you?

As if hearing his question, your gaze locks onto his. He cocks an eyebrow at you; you mirror the gesture like clockwork.

Thus ensues an intense game of eye contact. You don’t break away from his gaze until two minutes later, a light scoff escaping your lips that he can discern even from afar. You then turn to look at San, your eyes morphing into something fiercer, more determined— a sniper finally locking eyes on its target.

Hyunjin feels a slight headache growing at the base of his temple. He downs his drink, before taking long strides towards you.

It’s official, you’re going to be his nuisance for the night.

27 minutes.

“Care to dance?” Hyunjin inquires as he materializes before you, a hand extended towards your body.

“Pardon?”

“A dance? To the lovely music we are hearing right now?” 

“I know what you mean,” you roll your eyes, leaning your body against the chair right next to you. Hyunjin’s eyes glaze over your legs peeking through the high slit of your dress. Had it been another setting, the sight of your black sheer tights would have made this night turn much differently.

Your voice dispels his thoughts like morning fog. “I mean why are you asking me?”

“Because I’m bored.”

“How flattering,” you grin sarcastically and Hyunjin feels the smallest urge to return your smile, although he knows it isn’t genuine.

“I know. Shall we?”

Your gaze flees to San once again, seemingly debating something in your head before finally sighing.

In the few seconds of scrutiny you consecrate to his boss, Hyunjin’s gaze lingers on your bright red lipstick, and the way you tuck your lip slightly into your mouth as you ponder.

A beautiful nuisance, he corrects himself.

“Fine,” You place your manicured hand in his in response.

“What’s your name?” he asks, as he settles one hand atop your waist. The fabric of your black dress is too thin, he can feel the heat emanating from your body seeping through his palm.

Focus. You need to discover who she is.

“Julia,” your hand settles atop his shoulder, while the other entwines with his. “And you?”

“Sam. What are you doing here?” he quickly inquires.

You shake your head slightly, gliding your hand from the base of his neck to the end of his shoulder.

“Isn’t it my turn to ask you a question?”

Hyunjin tilts his head curiously at you, before smirking slightly— “Yes ma’am.”

“What do you work for?”

“I’m Mr. Heo’s political adviser.”

“You’re quite young, though,” you note.

“I know.”

“And I don’t see you by his side a lot.”

“I work in the background, mostly. I don’t do well with the cameras.” He spins you around, picking up speed as the orchestra picks up the violin. “How do you know Mr. Heo?”

“I’m Kang’s niece, you know, Mr. Heo’s economic adviser? Uncle Kang is ill, and my father is out of the country so both of them chose not to come.”

Hyunjin’s memory faintly brushes off Kang’s single niece, completing her architectural studies in Paris’ Sorbonne. 

“C’est beau à Paris?” Is it beautiful in Paris?

You don’t even blink— “Même magnifique, tu devrais visiter.” Marvelous even, you should visit. 

Checks out.

“I’ll hold you on to that offer,” he says, before spinning you around, your chest settling across his back. Hyunjin ignores how his heart skips a singular beat at your proximity.

“So, what are you doing here?” he asks, his lips tantalizingly close to the shell of your ear. He watches as your chest rises once before your airy voice floods his ear.

“Networking, though you didn’t quite allow me to speak to anyone but you,” you tease slightly.

“I fail to see what an architect has to do with politicians,” he muses, as he sways you gently from left to right.

“I want to oversee the building of Jamsil Sports Complex.”

“So you’re using your father for work connections?” he taunts and you swivel around, placing both your hands on his shoulders before interlinking your fingers behind his neck, caging him within the notes of your perfume.

“Is it a crime?” your voice is airy, too airy, everything you say sounds rehearsed, you don’t seem intimidated by him, by this setting, as opposed to how a newly graduated student, one who grew up away from her father’s world should.

“Depends on your definition,” he counters.

“Do you regard it as such?”

Hyunjin’s gaze flickers all over yours. He senses something urgent in your gaze, as if you are pushing for more, beyond what this simple question entails.

When he remains quiet for a tad too long, you let your hands drop by your body, taking a step away from him.

“I need to go,” you say. He grabs your wrist instantly. “Where to?”

“Bathroom.” And with that, you quickly turn around and walk away, leaving behind notes of your floral perfume and ghosts of your ruby lips.

Hyunjin steals a glance at his clock. 09:13 p.m.

He drags a hand across his forehead wearily. He won’t let you ruin this night.

17 minutes. 

You are washing your hands obsessively in the bathroom, lost in thought as you gaze at your reflection, all blurry from your unfocused eyes. You only turn off the water once your skin starts to sting from the force of your touch. 

The orange-scented soap doesn’t seem to get rid of the stench of blood. 

A week ago. 

“I don't understand your obsession with Mr. Heo,” Christopher Bang calmly removed his glasses, placing them next to the shiny placate reading ‘Editor in Chief of Seoul Press’.

“He is corrupt.”

“As all politicians are,” he spoke matter of factly, and it angered you how unfazed he seemed before your, you admit, far-fetched request. 

“You don’t understand, sir. He’s different.”

“Did he do something to you?” Chris asked, leaning back against his chair. You felt exposed all of a sudden, like a flower left bare without its stem. 

“Would my answer change anything?” You inquired tentatively. 

“It would explain many things, yes actually,” he got up from his chair, before sitting on the one right across from you. “You are a talented journalist, Yn.”

“Thank you—“

“But you are utilizing the company’s resources to conduct your personal investigation on San Heo.” 

He knew. 

“You’ve been working on his case from the day you joined our media. Which was exactly 389 days ago. I know that you’ve managed to uncover quite some dirt, one that would make an explosive case if you get more information. That’s why I turned a blind eye to everything you did because I trust your skills and integrity.” 

You remained silent.

“But now, you’re asking me to completely disregard my deontology by finding a way for you to break into Mr. Heo’s mansion. That is a crime.”

“Not break in. I want an invite to his party, it is the first time he organized one in his home, probably the last time, it is my only chance to—”

“Details,” he waves a hand disinterestedly in the air, cutting you off. “Your intentions aren’t to mingle with politicians, it is to dig in his office and find something of substance. While I admire the lengths of what you want to go through, I must stop you here.” He leveled his eyes with yours. “This can land you in jail, he is the most important man in our country right now.”

“What if I tell you he did something to me, that he ruined my life? Would you help me then?” your voice was hoarse, tears pricked your eyes as you tried your best not to avert your gaze. You hated displays of weakness, despised them even more in professional settings. 

“What did he do?” 

You bristled at the question, ugly memories flashing before your eyes like a blinding light, your body begging you to flee away from this question and the heavy response it entailed.

Still, you spoke. 

Christopher remained silent as you recalled what happened on your doomsday, the night in which your world ceased to spin, and simultaneously, the reason why you joined his company, to begin with. When your sniffles subsided a few minutes later, he gently handed you a napkin, a silent invitation to wipe away the tears that had escaped.

He sighed deeply, running a hand through his weary face before finally speaking. 

“I’ll give you the invite tomorrow. Say that you are Kang’s niece, her name is Julia. She went to Paris for architectural studies, and that you are back for a vacation. Kang is ill these days, he won’t attend the party, and his brother is out of the country, no one will question you.”

“How do you know this?” 

“Because I know them,” he toyed with his lower lip lightly before a tiny smile drew upon it. “An eye for an eye, right? I’m Kang’s cousin. I changed my last name because I didn’t wish to deal with them anymore.” 

“So Bhang isn’t your real last name?”

“No.” He ran his thumb across his lower lip, seemingly debating adding something. “San’s office is on the far end of the third floor.” 

You heaved a sigh of relief. 

“Thank you.” 

“Don’t get yourself killed.”

13 minutes. 

It was one thing to stare at photographs of San seared behind your reddened eyelids or to stand at the far end of his press conferences. It was another to step foot into his mansion, to stand amidst powerful people who are capable of ruining your life had they known of your motives. 

But you didn’t have time to dwell on your personal feelings. Fear, nerves, all of those feeble emotions pale before the chance you have today. So, you nod at your reflection in the mirror, count to three in your head, and finally head out of the bathroom. 

“Five minutes, were you crying?” Sam’s bored voice startles you as soon as you set foot outside. He’s leaning on the wall across from the door, hands deep into the pockets of his suit.

Not again. 

“I know that I’m very pretty but don’t you have better things to do than to follow me?” you ask, pausing right in front of him. 

“I’m not following you, I just happen to be particularly fond of the architecture of this corridor,” he jokes and you ignore his words, walking past him with a renowned determination. He pushes himself off the wall, only to grasp your wrist once again, spinning you around until you’re facing him. 

He chuckles softly, tilting his head to the side. His icy blue contacts pierce through your skin like a puncture needle.  “You know, I’m curious, Julia. You seemed very eager to get away from me.”

You take a step forward, closing the distance between you two. “Have you considered that I found your company utterly boring?”

“You wound me,” he places a hand on his heart, any trace of humor absent from his voice. His grip tightens on your wrist for a millisecond. A warning. “I need you to leave.” 

“I’m sorry?” 

“I’m serious. You shouldn’t be here tonight.”

“And why should I listen to you?” you challenge and his eyes darken further. 

“I can’t tell you.”

“Then let me go,” you mutter, slipping your hand away from his grasp. 

“Julia,” he says sternly, pulling you back till your back is against the wall, his hands rooted on either side of your body. 

It is a dimly lit hallway, and the sound of the orchestra barely reaches you. Your worry intermingles with a new kind of nerves, all orchestrated by his proximity, and the way his gaze brushes against your body like a skilled painter. 

“I’m not joking, leave.” His voice is much softer when he adds, “It’s for your own good. What will happen later doesn’t concern you.”

He knows something that you don’t know, something that, from his tone, none of the guests are aware of. You see something human in his eyes, in the slight crease doting his eyebrows. He seems genuinely worried for the innocent civilian he thinks you are. 

Your eyes turn to look at his hand near your head, only to notice his faintly bruised knuckles, shades of purple and green doting a delicate porcelain skin. They have healed well, then. 

Should you unearth the memory from two weeks ago— pleas for mercy, a deafening gunshot, and an excruciating silence afterward, the quiet after the murder that you remember most? 

Then, another scene rings in your head like bells of an ancient church— a bruised hand brushing against your own in an art gallery from two days ago, raven locks, and familiar, melancholy-tinted eyes. 

Could it be? 

Your voice turns sweet, tender, “should I trust you for the night?” your thumb brushes against the skin underneath his eye, wiping away the concealer you knew you spotted.

There it is, the eye mole you thought he covered. 

It clicks in your mind in an instant, pieces of a puzzle falling into place, there are still a few missing but you manage to grasp the bigger picture.

If he’s not letting you go then he could be of good use. 

What other choice do you have but to gamble with a killer? 

Your sharp nails drag across the nape of his neck, before settling right beneath his jaw. You mimic a gun, his eyes narrow in response.

“Is this how you killed Jung Cho, Hyunjin?” 

You feel a cold barrel instantly press against your stomach. “Police officer?” he asks. 

“No.”

“Journalist ?”

“Yes,” you slowly mutter.

“What’s your name?”

“I don’t wish to tell you.” The gun only presses further onto your skin. You feel a cold bead of sweat roll down your exposed spine. 

Breathe. 

“It’s Yn.”

“What do you know?”

“It’d be easier for me to talk if you removed the gun,” you smile lightly and Hyunjin only leans further, a distance as thin as a blade between you both.

“Speak.”

“You killed the only candidate that stood a chance in front of San. You drove him to the empty deposit near Inwangsan Mountain, tortured him for three days, filmed his confessions, and then sent them to many media outlets. Ours included. I know it because I followed you.” 

“Why did you follow me?” he questions. Your eyes flee to the end of the corridor where an impossible staircase sits. You are wasting your time. 

“Because I am investigating San. And through following him I ended up getting to know you. You are different from everyone he meets. Very secretive. So I figured it’d be worth a shot following you too,” you explain as calmly as you can. You’re sure the barrel of the gun will leave a bruise on your skin. 

“And why didn’t you write a piece about me? Everyone is dying to know who I am.”

“I have, I just haven’t released it. If I don’t come back home in an hour my head chef will post the video of you murdering Mr. Cho on every SNS. The public loves you for what you’re doing. But the politicians will come together to kill you. They have a price on your head. You are threatening everything they ever built.” 

Hyunjin drags his gun up your stomach slowly, trails it across your collarbones before it settles on your jaw. 

“I could kill you too, right now.” His tone is cold, evil. Very different from the man who asked you to dance. You know that I can.” 

“My death would only sign yours.”

Hyunjin’s forehead rests on the wall right next to your head. You can hear him inhale deeply, hear the gears turning in his head. “Fuck, you are driving me crazy.”

He drops the gun and takes a step back. “Why didn’t you expose me?”

“You are not the one that matters to me.” 

“What do you want from me then?” 

“Three minutes. Open San’s office, and then I’ll go. No one will ever know of your identity.” 

He remains silent. 

“Hyunjin, please.” 

“Fuck, fine. But whatever happens next you’ll have to trust me, okay?” his hands settle on your shoulder, his eyes leveling with yours, “if you’re not leaving then you’ll have to trust me enough, for tonight.” 

8 minutes. 

“After you,” Hyunjin bows slightly as he opens the door to Heo’s office. You step in first, and he steals a quick glance behind him—no one’s here, for now.

“That saved me the hassle of breaking the door.”

“You know how to do that?” he asks, slightly impressed.

“One of my hobbies,” you shrug before walking directly to the desk. Hyunjin leans against the wall, watching as you lift your dress slightly, revealing a small packet tucked into your garter. The sight drives Hyunjin a little crazy, and he closes his eyes for a second.

He really, really wishes he hadn’t met you here tonight.

You take out a listening device, tapping the bottom of the desk until you find a suitable spot, and then you stick it in place.

“Another one of your hobbies?” he smirks.

You giggle. “Mm, aren’t I the most fun?”

“You are,” his eyes drag across your figure, and he notices a slight falter in your posture, “the most beautiful too.”

You blink, and he’s suddenly in front of you, trapping you between the auburn desk and his toned body. You don’t seem intimidated, placing a palm on his chest as you tilt your head to the side. 

“Aren’t you curious why I’m going after San?”

“No, he angers a lot of people.” His thumb caresses your cheek, a touch so soft in contrast to his next words. “A lot of people fantasize about his death.”

“Are you one of them?” you question, cocking an eyebrow at him.

“Right now, all I’m fantasizing about is you.” His voice is husky, and he finds it comes out much easier when he actually likes the person he’s attempting to seduce. 

It takes you a few seconds to speak again. “Is that so?”

“Mm, let’s dance.”

“Didn’t we dance downstairs?”

“That was Sam and Julia dancing,” he says as he entwines his fingers with yours. “You see, Hyunjin is a different kind of dancer.” His hand presses against your back, snaking against your bare skin. “Can I pull you closer?” he asks, and you simply nod, eyes fleeting widely all over his face. 

His chest presses to yours, so close he’s sure your hearts are syncing with one another, his inhales alternating with your exhales. 

“Yn,” he whispers your name, as you look up at him through the curve of your eyelashes.  

“Yes, Hyunjin?” His name sounds soft as it stumbles from your ruby lips, innocent from all the blood that drenches his soul.

“I like the way you say my name.” He glances at his watch above your head. 9:57.

“Hyunjin,” you repeat, as your hand drags up his neck, grabbing a fistful of his hair and gently dragging it backward, exposing his enticing neck to you. “You are always looking at your watch, what are you waiting for?”

He chuckles faintly, grabbing both your hands and spinning you around till his chin rests on the small of your shoulder. “You’re perceptive,” he mutters, as his fingers drag down your bare arms. “But so am I,” he says coldly as he grabs both your hands, bringing them behind your back. “Look, your hands are shaking just from my proximity. I don’t think you have it in you to film me killing Jung Cho. I don’t think you have it in you to watch me torture someone for three days.”

Click. Cold metal wraps around your wrist in an instant, handcuffing you to the leg of the table before which you’re standing. 

“I think you lied to me, Yn. I don’t like being lied to.”

“What are you doing?” you ask disoriented, panic spilling from your being like an overflowing cup.

Hyunjin pays you no mind, taking out his phone and dialing a number. “Boss, we have a problem. I caught a journalist trying to get into your room,” he taps his chin slowly as he looks at you. “No, no need for security. Just come alone. Don’t alarm the guests.”

2 minutes

“Are you serious?” you ask as soon as he hangs up, a prominent lump in your throat. “You told me to trust you.”

“Did I say I was worth that trust?” he pouts, seemingly mocking the vulnerable ordeal you found yourself in. 

A loud chuckle escapes your lips, your head thrown back as if before a hilarious spectacle of sorts. Hyunjin frowns, crossing his arms in front of his chest as your giggles slowly quiet down. 

“You’re a peculiar person, aren’t you Hyunjin? You need to hide your identity but you crave normalcy still, so you open your art gallery. You go to crazy lengths to cover your moles and wear contacts because you wish for people to look at you with admiration in their eyes, kindness. But you don’t deserve it.” There is a fire lit in your eyes, flames latching into his black suit and burning his already scarred skin. “You’ll always be as evil as them.” 

Hyunjin doesn’t respond for a while, his eyes simply softening at your words.

“I know,” he whispers. 

“Who’s this?” San’s voice booms loudly as he sets foot into the office. Hyunjin’s eyes break apart from your figure to look at San, bowing slightly to greet him. 

“Julia, she infiltrated the party,” Hyunjin explains, stealthily locking the door behind San. “She’s been investigating you for quite some time now. And… She knows about the murders.”

“Mm, she’s clever. Should we hire her?” San jokes and Hyunjin smiles politely, dragging his eyes over your face. You simply roll your eyes, seemingly more bored than scared. 

Cute. 

“Anyways,” Heo stares at you for a fleeting second before tapping Hyunjin’s shoulder. “She looks easy to kill. Just get rid of her. But don’t stain my carpet though, it's expensive.”

“Sure thing,” Hyunjin nods, taking out his gun and pointing it at your temple. He steals a final look at his watch— 9:30 p.m. he reads. 

Time’s up. 

“You didn’t think I’d let you go?” Hyunjin mocks, cocking his head at you. In a split second, a bullet ricochets loudly, but not at you. It grazes San’s ear, making him pause near the door, his back towards you both. 

“Right boss?” Hyunjin’s tone is slightly whiny, annoying is the best way to describe it. You can hear police sirens blare loudly outside, see the red and blue hues reflect off the window. Loud shouts erupt downstairs, Hyunjin leisurely reloads his gun, one hand deep into his pocket, San’s posture slightly falters, his fingers digging into the skin of his palm. 

“Do you hear that Heo? Your mansion is surrounded. All your filthy dirt is exposed. The police officers are arresting everyone downstairs right now. And they’re coming for you. The man of the hour.” Hyunjin makes a show of curtsying deeply. You stifle a giggle at his theatrics.

“You dare turn your back on me?” San yells, pivoting around to face Hyunjin’s barrel, the latter simply yawns as if it’s a regular Saturday activity for him. 

“Oh, don’t get emotional on me,” Hyunjin pouts, before his eyes narrow down coldly. “Now kneel. Let’s end this without staining your carpet.”

You see San slowly lowering himself to the ground, Hyunjin’s gaze sets on you for a millisecond, his pupils dilated in apology, in concern, you don’t know, you don't get to decipher his look because San is taking out his gun from his back pocket, aiming it at Hyunjin. “Watch out”— is all you manage to shout, and hyunjin ducks in an instant, propelled by the sound of your voice to the ground.

He could have died, he could have died because he looked at you. 

It all happens so fast, Hyunjin diving into San to take away his gun, both their weapons flinging into the air, San punching Hyunjin’s mouth and the latter retaliating by flinging his fist up against his nose. You’re struggling with your restraints, trying to reach out for the lone gun that fell to your right. 

A bit more, tune out the sirens, tune out the punches, slowly, only a few centimeters left, your wrist is on fire but that is the least of your concern, almost, there, you grab it.

You fire the gun.

It’s quiet once again, for the first time in two years, it is quiet in your head.

It’s over. 

You close your eyes, tilting your head back into the desk. The sound of your mother’s laughter floods your ears, her airy giggles as she brushes your hair and tucks you into her chest, her being a vision of beauty underneath the sun’s caress. 

“Are you okay?” Hyunjin kneels before you, wiping away the tears rolling down your cheeks with his bruised knuckles. He is worried, even behind those icy blue contacts, you can still grasp his worry.

You nod, swallowing the sob that is lodged within your throat. Hyunjin is quick to unlock your handcuffs, entwining your fingers with his as he pulls you off the ground. 

You slightly push him aside, your eyes set on San’s bleeding figure. He’s still alive, rugged breaths escaping his chest, his palm pressed to the bullet that punctuated his stomach. 

“I want him dead,” you mutter, grabbing Hyunjin’s forearm to support yourself, “but I want him to rot in prison too.” 

“He will, for all his crimes. I have it all documented. The police have it too,” his palm rubs soothingly against your back, you lean further into his touch.

“He’s a monster.” 

“I know. They all are. That’s why I killed them,” he simply says, before guiding you back to a couch on the right of the office. He shrugs off his suit, draping it over your trembling shoulders. 

“Give me a minute.”

You watch as he grabs the gun you fired off of the ground, before taking a handkerchief out of his pocket. He wipes your fingerprints, making sure to leave his all over the gun. He then walks to the table, taking away your listening device and crushing it to the ground.

He’s calm and collected as he rearranges the scene to his liking, it looks like he has done this a million times before, as if this is the element in which he thrives— a sunflower turning to face the sun, at long last. 

He kneels before your freezing figure one last time, tilting your chin to the side so you’d look at him.

“I fired the gun. You had no idea any of this would happen, you’re just an ambitious journalist who wanted an insider scoop.” He senses you’re somewhere far, pulled by the ropes of memories that had long haunted your dreams. His warm palm presses to your cold cheek, your eyes are glossy as they rest on him. 

“You didn’t do anything. I’m the one who used you as a scapegoat to bring San up here, just like I agreed with the police. Alright? You did nothing.You know nothing.” 

“Alright.”

Hours pass in a cold blur, the weight of time lost on you as three police officers take turns questioning you. You repeat the lines Hyunjin taught you, your voice flat, devoid of emotion. Even as you step out of the police station, with Hyunjin's hand resting gently on your back, you feel nothing. A slight tremor runs through you when he mentions that San survived and will be transferred to prison once he's healed.

You don’t know why you’re disappointed you didn’t become a killer.

You don’t know anything, don’t feel anything as Hyunjin drives you home. You don’t question how he knows your address or the code to your elevator. It’s only when you unlock your door and he starts to pull away that reality snaps back.

Without thinking, you grab his wrist, suddenly aware of the loneliness that awaits you inside, an uninvited guest preying on your vulnerable heart.

“Would you like some tea?” you ask, your voice tinged with hopelessness, knowing just how silly you sound. Why would he stay? He has so many loose ends to thread after his finishing blow, you know he’s part of something far larger than you. 

As if mocking your question, his phone buzzes for the tenth time in the span of five minutes.

But then, to your surprise, he turns it off.

“Yeah,” he says with a soft smile, “I’d like some tea.”

As you bring the water to a boil, Hyunjin rolls up the sleeves of his white shirt, casually wandering around your apartment as if it’s not his first time setting foot in here. He’s always at ease— with a gun pointed at him or while looking at the souvenir magnets on your fridge. 

His calmness helps instill some peace in your heart too. 

“I like your apartment,” he says, accepting the cup of chamomile you hand him. “It’s cozy, feels like a home.”

“Thank you,” you whisper as you sink into the couch, your head hung low. So much has happened in just half an hour, too much for you to fully comprehend and process.

“Let me see,” he says a few sips later, as he gently removes the cup from your clutch, before sliding his thumb across your right wrist. The bruises have already begun to form, the red marks from the handcuffs clear evidence of your struggle to reach the gun.

“I’m sorry I involved you in this,” he murmurs, frowning as he avoids your gaze, staring intently at your wrist as if he could will the blue hues away. “I didn’t plan for you to be at the party.”

“I involved myself,” you chuckle softly. You’re not one for physical touch, but you don’t feel the usual urge to pull away from his grasp. His hands are warm, the roughness of his fingertips a stark contrast to the softness of your skin.

“You’re a stubborn journalist,” he says with a small smile, finally meeting your gaze. you suddenly yearn to look into the rich brown of his eyes once more. Was its shade as deep as you remember?

“And you’re an excellent painter,” you retort, eliciting a surprised laugh from him. The sound is unexpectedly endearing, and you’re caught in a whirlwind of contradictions. Is this really the same man you saw taking a life? The same man now holding your wrist as if it were made of porcelain?

“Right, you figured out my identity. What gave me away?” he asks, still smiling.

“I heard about this new gallery where the artist’s only clue to his identity was the name signed on his paintings. So, I decided to see for myself. While everyone else was captivated by the artwork, I noticed you, standing in the corner, observing the reactions of everyone around. You smiled when someone smiled, and your grin grew wider with each compliment. That’s when I started to suspect that the artist was you, all along.”

“I remember it now. I bumped into you as you were leaving,” he says, and you nod.

“What stood out to me were your sad eyes. That’s what I remember most. Well, besides your bruised knuckles.”

“And that’s how you connected the dots.”

“Yes, and your eye mole, too. Even though you tried to conceal it with makeup, it still showed.”

“Very perceptive,” he says with a grin.

“Thank you.”

“Aren’t you worried I’ll expose your identity?” you ask, as his hand gently slides into yours, his fingers resting lightly on top of yours. A simple, innocent touch, yet it stirs something unknown in the pits of your stomach. 

“I trusted you when you said I’m not the one who matters to you.”

“Why would you trust me?”

“I don’t know. Maybe because I miss putting my faith in someone, even if they end up failing me. Isn’t that the most human trait of all?”

How could an assassin create such heartfelt paintings, overflowing with emotions too hard to explain with words, let alone colors? Perhaps because this isn’t the life he always wanted.

“Did you choose this?” you ask softly, your voice barely a whisper. Maybe it’s the exhaustion from the interrogation, or the near brush with death, or perhaps the relief that this chapter is finally closing for both of you. But something compels you to keep talking, to ask, to hold on to Hyunjin just a little longer.

“Being a killer, you mean?” His voice carries a tenderness that seems at odds with the weight of his words. He’s a walking contradiction, balancing two identities within himself—Hyunjin and Sam. One feels heavier on his bones than the other. 

“I grew up in this world,” he continues. “My parents run a large network of assassins—or vigilantes, depending on how you see it. Some people hire us, and sometimes we act on our own when we see injustice or corruption festering for too long. We conduct thorough background checks. We only kill those who truly deserve it. We always make sure of that.”

“An eye for an eye.”

He nods, his gaze dropping to the floor. “I always feel good in the midst of a case. One less evil in the world. But after, there’s just this emptiness. Now what? I always wonder. So I try to fill the void with painting.”

“Now what…” you repeat, your voice trembling as a lump forms in your throat. “Now what? What should I do now?” Tears well up and spill over suddenly, streaming down your face in an unstoppable torrent. “San is behind bars, but my mom isn’t coming back. So what now? What was all of this for if I can’t get her back?”

You find yourself burying your head in the crook of Hyunjin’s neck, his arms wrapping tightly around you, holding you close as if he could contain your sadness, preventing it from seeping from your soul and reaching your mother, wherever she may be.

You haven’t allowed anyone to hold you like this in two years, denying yourself any comfort until you could bring your mother’s killer to justice. It was a promise you made to yourself after San drunkenly ran her over and fled the scene, leaving you alone to hug her cold body in that sterile hospital room.

“It drove me crazy,” you sob, your words broken and incoherent. “He bribed everyone—the doctors, the paramedics, the stores nearby. Everyone acted like my mom didn’t d-die because of h-him,” you hiccup, and Hyunjin only holds you tighter, closer, enough to stitch your wounds with time, only if he remains this close to you. If he wishes to, if you allow him to.

“But now he’s behind bars, and I still don’t have my mom. What do I do now that I can’t bury myself in revenge? Hyunjin, what should I do when I miss her so much and I can’t see her?”

Five hours later.

“The article is perfect, no corrections needed,” Chris says, removing his glasses and looking at you with approval. “Excellent work, Yn.” 

“Thank you,” you nod, feeling a mix of relief, but mostly exhaustion. “I stayed up all night working on it.” 

“Goid, it’s only 6 a.m. so we know that no other media outlet has touched this yet. Our article will be the one to shape public opinion. This is a big win for us. It’s a thorough investigation, and I’m confident you’ll get the recognition you deserve,” he writes something down onto his notebook before looking at you once more. “Take a few days off—you’ve earned it. I’ll reach out if anything urgent comes up.”

“Thank you, sir.” You bow slightly before turning to leave the suffocating office. Or maybe it’s your own mind that’s suffocating you. You don’t have time to dwell on the question before Chris speaks again. 

“Oh, Yn?” Chris calls out just as your hand touches the doorknob. “One last thing, did you ever figure out who was behind all those tapes?”

Your grip on the doorknob tightens imperceptibly. “No sir, no clue.” 

One month later. 

It’s a few minutes before the art gallery closes when you walk in. Hyunjin spots you before you see him, your distinctive walk etched in his memory as vividly as if it were only yesterday that he had seen it.

He approaches quietly, stopping behind you as you gaze at the newest addition to his collection.

“Is this us?” you ask, not turning around. Hyunjin’s eyes follow yours to the abstract painting of a couple waltzing in a ballroom, their hands intertwined just like yours were, four Saturdays ago.

“Yes,” he replies softly.

“It seems I left an everlasting impression on you,” you tease, he can hear the smile in your voice without seeing it. 

“You did. You looked beautiful.”

“So did you.”

“I’m glad you came,” he says sincerely. “I missed you.”

“But we only spent a day together,” you giggle quietly, and Hyunjin wishes he could capture your laugh and tuck it away in the veins of his heart.

“Didn’t that day feel like a year, though?” he muses, resting his chin gently on your shoulder. You lean back into him, closing the space between you.

“It did,” you admit before nervously clearing your throat. “Are you free right now? We could grab a drink, if you’d like?”

“Chamomile tea?” he chuckles, and your laughter vibrates through his being.

“No, something stronger this time.”

He hums, hesitating as he despises the words that would stumble out of his mouth. “I have some things to handle tonight. Urgent matters.”

“Ah,” your voice dips slightly, the disappointment clear in your tone. “Well, it’s okay. I’ll see you another time, then,” you say, finally turning to face him. 

He really missed you. 

“Okay. I’ll see you.”

“Okay.”

“Congratulations on your award, by the way,” he says, watching your expression soften, a delicate smile forming on your lips.

“You saw it?”

“I did. I read your piece, too. I’m sure your mom would be proud of you.”

Tears of gratitude well up in your eyes, and you squeeze Hyunjin’s hand tightly as you whisper, “Thank you. Really. Thank you, Hyunjin.”

Hyunjin’s words linger in your soul, echoing through your mind for the rest of your day, his voice the only sound that seems to fill the silence within you. That is until three loud knocks resonate through your apartment, just minutes before midnight. 

You open the door to find Hyunjin standing there, a fresh bruise marring his jaw, his knuckles freshly scraped and bloodied.

“Let me guess, you had nowhere else to go?” you joke, trying to regain your composure at the sight of him once more.

“No,” he replies, his tone earnest, “I wanted to come to you.”

Your smile falters at the sincerity in his voice. You can’t quite place what it is about Hyunjin that pulls you toward him, how amidst everything that’s happened in the past month, the most vivid memory is how he held you gently as you cried and cried.

“I forgot something,” he says, pulling a tube of cooling cream from his back pocket and offering it to you. “I meant to give this to you for your bruised wrists.”

He’s a month late, you both know your wrists have long since healed.

“I… yeah,” he sighs before your silence, turning to leave, a light blush tinting his cheeks. But before he can, you drop the tube and grab his hand, spinning him back around.

“I forgot something too,” you say quickly before pressing your lips against his.

You don’t fully understand what draws you to Hyunjin, but you know his lips taste as sweet as cherry chapstick, that his hand around your waist feels like water flowing gently over your skin, warm and encompassing. That his brown eyes remind you of sunlight dancing on autumn leaves, that no one has touched your soul as deeply as he has.

You know you wish to make him feel as human as he makes you.

they call you clingy.

ot8 x gn!reader

warning: really angsty, feeling insecure/unworthy, no happy endings. (sorry)

wc: 8708

bang chan

You and Chan had been together for a while, and things were generally great between you two. You had your own lives, your own routines, but there was always a sense of closeness between you that you both cherished. Lately, though, you’d found yourself tagging along with him more often, especially when he had dinner plans with the members.

At first, he didn’t mind. In fact, he enjoyed having you around, and the other members seemed to appreciate it too. Some of their girlfriends were there as well, so it felt natural, like a group gathering. But after a while, you started coming along more frequently, not wanting to spend evenings apart. You thought it was a way to spend more time with him, but you could tell it was starting to weigh on Chan, though you weren’t sure why.

Chan said nothing at first, but you could tell he became quieter and more distant throughout these dinners. He looked at his phone more frequently, and his smile seemed forced when you spoke with him or the others. Still, you tried to ignore it, telling yourself it was just your imagination. You weren't doing anything wrong by wanting to be with him, right? You had every right to join him on nights when he was with the other members. But you couldn't shake the feeling that something was wrong.

One evening, as you all gathered for a casual dinner at a restaurant, the atmosphere was different. You were laughing, eating, and talking with some of the other girls when you realized Chan was particularly quiet. He was nibbling at his food and not really participating in the conversation. You leaned over to him, laying your hand on his arm, attempting to draw him into the moment.

"Chan, is everything okay?" You asked, your voice gentle and anxious.

He shuddered slightly at the contact and gave you a fake smile. "Yeah, everything's fine," he said, but the tiredness in his voice was clear. The others didn’t seem to notice, but you did. It felt like he was pushing away from you just a little. Your stomach twisted as you tried to ignore the unease creeping in. Then, the conversation shifted. As the dinner continued, someone brought up how often you came along with Chan to these meals. You didn’t think much of it at first, but you could feel his discomfort growing.

“Honestly, though,” Chan suddenly chimed in, his voice a little more sharp than usual, “it’s getting a bit much. She’s always tagging along. It’s like she can’t ever be away from me. It's kind of suffocating.”

The words hit you like a smack in the face. You froze, your heart sinking to the bottom of your stomach. The table fell silent for a moment, the tension in the air evident. You could feel everyone's gaze on you, and your cheeks reddened with shame. You tried to shrug it off, believing it was a joke, but the expression in Chan's eyes revealed his disinterest. He was not joking. Time seemed to slow down, and you could feel the sting of his words settling deep within you. Without thinking, you excused yourself from the table and went to the restroom, your chest tight and your eyes welling with tears. You locked yourself in a stall and tried to calm your pounding heart, but the words replayed in your mind over and over again. “Clingy,” “suffocating.” You felt small, insignificant, and utterly hurt.

Meanwhile, at the table, the other members exchanged glances, seemingly uneasy about what had just happened. After a minute, Hyunjin spoke up, his tone surprisingly soft. "Chan, that wasn't cool, man. Why would you say anything like that? She isn't clinging at all. She's just trying to spend time with you."

Felix nodded in line, his tone quiet yet forceful. "Yeah, we really like having her around. She makes things more fun, you know? I don't understand why you'd say something like that.”

Chan wasn't sure how to answer. He had meant it as a joke, something to relieve the stress he'd been experiencing lately, but now that he'd heard the other responses from the others, a rush of shame swept over him. He felt he'd crossed a boundary, but it wasn't until they spoke out that he recognized how serious the situation was. "I didn't mean it like that," he whispered, but his apologies seemed hollow even for him.

His thoughts was muddled by remorse, and for the first time in a long time, he felt completely embarrassed. "I think you should go talk to her," Minho said softly. "She is probably really hurt right now. You have to make it right."

Chan’s stomach churned. He didn’t want to think about how badly he’d hurt you. His usual confident self was gone, replaced by a knot of regret.

lee know

It was one of those days. The sort where everything you touched seemed to fall apart, and every corner you turned revealed another disaster ready to happen. The day began with your boss screaming at you for something you didn't even do, his anger pouring out on you as if it were your responsibility that the world was collapsing. You hardly had time to calm yourself before spilling your coffee all over your blouse at lunch. The entire day had been an upsurge of humiliating incidents, missed deadlines, and biting your tongue to resist snapping at everyone who gave you the wrong look.

You were physically and emotionally drained when you arrived home. You just wanted the day to end, to close your eyes and forget everything. However, when you walked through the door, you were welcomed by a familiar, comfortable smell.

Minho was in the kitchen, wearing an apron and humming softly to himself while making something. Your heart lifted a little because he was here, cooking for you. The simple gesture of kindness was a welcome breath of fresh air after a long day of drowning.

You stood by the door, hesitant whether to interrupt, but then he turned toward you with a gentle smile. "Hey, how was your day?"

You forced a smile, despite the weight of the day pressing on you. “It was... fine. I’m just glad to be home.”

He noticed the weariness in your eyes and walked over to you, wrapping his arms around your shoulders in a gentle embrace. It was the kind of comfort you needed, even if you didn’t know it until he offered it. “Relax. I’ve got dinner covered. Why don’t you just sit down and take it easy?”

You nodded, thankful for his concern, but something inside you refused to just sit back and do nothing. It felt awful to be passive while he was so busy. "Let me help," you volunteered, heading near the counter, attempting to gather yourself after a stressful day. Minho gently shook his head, a teasing gleam in his eyes. "There's no need. "Please relax, okay?" You couldn't help but feel a sense of dissatisfaction. He was always so selfless and compassionate, and you didn't want to be someone who just sat by. Instead of disputing, you nodded and gave in to his desire. He was right, after all; you could use a break. “Alright. But give me something small to do.”

Minho paused for a moment to contemplate, then assigned you a tiny task. "Okay, could you please tidy up a little while I finish the soup? Just wipe down the countertops." It seemed simple enough.

You took a rag and followed his instructions while he worked on the soup. The house was peaceful, almost serene, and you hadn't felt that type of peace all day. It was good to be here with him and feel like you weren't confronting the world alone.

But in the middle of cleaning, your eyes darted to the pot of soup on the stove. It smelled incredible like something he had poured his heart into. You felt a surge of gratitude, the kind that made you want to help him, to show him how much you appreciated everything he did for you.

Without thinking, you decided to move the pot, to give him a little more space so he could focus on finishing everything. You gently lifted the heavy pot, but as you tried to shift it, your grip faltered. The edge of the pot slipped from your hand, and in an instant, it tilted, the boiling liquid splashing violently all over the kitchen floor and onto your leg.

You screamed out in shock, the searing heat of the soup burning into your skin, but the pain on your leg was nothing compared to the way everything seemed to shatter around you. The kitchen became chaos. The pot had fallen, splattered everywhere, and the delicious smell was suddenly replaced with the pungent scent of spilled soup. You tried to gather yourself, but the kitchen was now a disaster, and so were you on the verge of tears, overwhelmed, hurt, and defeated.

Minho turned when he heard the accident. His expression shifted from worry to annoyance in an instant. You looked up, and his eyes were filled with anger. The following words he said struck you harder than the burn on your leg. "Why are you always so clingy? I spent hours making that! "If you had just stayed out of the way for once, this could have been avoided!" His voice was harsh and slashed through the air like a razor. You stared at him, frozen in shock.

Was this actually happening?

His words felt like a punch to your chest. They were not what you expected, not from him, not when you were already dealing with the weight of the world. Your mind scrambled to make sense of it. How had it come to this? How had you gone from being the person he always tried to comfort to someone he now seemed to resent?

He stayed there, hands clenched at his sides. "God, I can't believe this," he said quietly, shaking his head. You always do this. You always get in the way. "Why can't you just relax and let me do it?"

You couldn't react because your heart was hammering painfully in your chest. You had spilled more than simply the soup. It was not only the mess. It was the sting of being accused of something you never wanted to do, like being too much. You did not want to be a burden for him. You never intended to make things more difficult, yet everything you did seemed to make things worse.

Minho sighed, looking at the mess with frustration. “Just… go to the room or something,” he snapped, turning away from you.

You stood there, unsure of what to do, feeling smaller than you ever had before. You knew he was angry, but the way he dismissed you, the way he acted like you were just an inconvenience, was something you hadn’t expected from him. He wasn’t usually like this. But right now, it felt like you had done something unforgivable. It felt like everything you had ever tried to do for him had been wrong, every gesture of kindness or help misplaced.

Your legs gave way, and you sank to the floor, trying to steady yourself, but your hands trembled with the weight of his words. Hot tears welled up in your eyes, and you didn’t bother wiping them away. The physical pain in your leg from the burns was nothing compared to the ache in your chest. You had wanted to help, to make things better for him. But now, all you could do was try to tend to your own wounds both physical and emotional alone.

You pulled yourself up slowly, wiping away the tears you hadn’t realized were falling, trying to find the strength to move. Minho was still in the kitchen, silent now, cleaning up the mess you had made, but his anger still hung in the air, thick and suffocating.

You left him there, retreating to your bedroom, feeling more isolated than you had in a long time. The night was quiet, but the silence between you and Minho felt louder than ever. And in that silence, you couldn’t help but wonder how long you could keep trying to be the person he wanted you to be when everything you did seemed to push him further away.

changbin

The evening started out like any other. You and Changbin were going to go to the gym together after a long day. You were excited to spend more time with him, especially since you had been trying to join him at the gym more often recently. At first, it seemed like a fun bonding activity. You'd go to encourage him, attempt to keep up with some of the exercises, and simply enjoy being with him. Changbin had always been a bit of a lone wolf, preferring his own time to recuperate, but he'd been nice enough to let you tag along at first.

You didn’t realize that things had slowly started to change. What had initially felt like an innocent way to spend more time together had started to weigh on him. Maybe it was because you’d started following him around everywhere always just a few steps behind, trying to do what he was doing, lingering around him during his sets. Maybe it was because he didn’t have his usual space anymore. But whatever the reason, Changbin was beginning to feel the pressure, and he didn’t know how to tell you.

You had no idea how much your presence at the gym was bothering him. He wasn't trying to hurt you or make you feel bad about wanting to spend time with him, but tonight was different. He could feel his patience fading and his irritation growing the more you wanted to incorporate yourself into his routine. It was supposed to be his time to escape. He needed the gym to be his sanctuary, a place to unwind and clear his mind. But tonight, as you followed him from machine to machine, everything came to a head.

The air in the gym seemed heavier than usual. Changbin could feel his patience fraying as you followed him for what seemed like the umpteenth time. You weren't doing anything wrong, yet he couldn't shake the overwhelming sense that you were constantly present. His gaze shifted to the clock on the wall; he'd been here for nearly an hour. And it wasn't that you were clingy in an obnoxious way; it was simply that you were always with him, which was enough to frustrate him.

He couldn't concentrate, couldn't clear his mind as he used to. You were always there, following his every move, asking questions about his setups, and attempting to get in the way of his routine. His thoughts were clouded, his mind no longer able to concentrate on the iron and his own movements. He couldn’t unwind. He couldn’t breathe.

When you followed him to the weights area once again, his frustration bubbled over.

“Y/N, can you just stop?” he snapped, his voice harsh and sharp, completely different from the usual warmth you were used to. His words cut through the air like a slap. “Can you just let me have this one thing? The gym isn’t supposed to be some place where you follow me around all the time. I need it to be my own. I need my space. You’re always here, and it’s... it’s too much.”

You froze, a cold shiver of confusion running through your body. Your eyes flickered from his irritated face to the ground, unsure of what to say. You had always been so excited to share things with him, and this was the last place you thought something like this would happen.

“B-Bin... I didn’t—" you started, your voice faltering, but he cut you off, his frustration spilling over.

“You’re always clinging to me, Y/N. And at first, I thought it was cute. But now? It’s just too much. The gym is supposed to be my alone time, somewhere I can relax, somewhere I can focus. But you’re here, and I can’t even do that anymore,” he said, each word feeling like a weight crashing down on you.

Your chest tightened and you found yourself unable to breathe for a little while. It felt as if the world had stopped moving around you, and all you could hear was the flow of blood in your ears. You weren't expecting to hear those words from him. Changbin had always been supportive and loving, even if he was a little protective of his space. What about now? Now it felt like he was pushing you away. And the way he avoided your gaze while he spoke, as if he couldn't stand to witness the pain he was causing, you could feel your heart breaking piece by piece.

You bit your lip, trying to hold back the tears threatening to spill, but it didn’t help. The lump in your throat was too big, and the pain was too overwhelming. You weren’t clingy. You just wanted to be close to him. You didn’t realize that your presence, something you thought was innocent, had been smothering him. But hearing it from him so bluntly… it felt like a punch to the gut.

You said nothing at first. Your body was stiff, your eyes filled with unshed tears. You wanted to say something, but the words would not come out. Instead, you simply turned slowly and began to walk away. "I'll go," you said softly, your voice barely audible. Your steps were wobbly as you approached the exit. Changbin turned around, his heart sinking into his chest. It hit him, followed by the look in your eyes. Your lips quivered. He realized what he had just said. The frustration and fury had been misplaced. He didn't mean to hurt you. He wasn't trying to make you feel unwanted. But it was too late now. The damage was done.

“Y/N—wait!” he called after you, but it was no use. You didn’t even turn around. You just kept walking, your back stiff, your steps hurried.

hyunjin

(a/n: you and hyunjin aren’t a couple here, you’re childhood best friends)

The after-party had been buzzing with energy all night, full of celebration and the kind of chaotic, joyful atmosphere that followed every successful concert. It was supposed to be a moment of relief, a chance to let go of the weight of the stage and just relax with friends. You, however, couldn’t seem to shake off the knot of tension that had been growing inside you for weeks.

It hadn’t been an abrupt change, not really. Hyunjin, your best friend, had slowly started to become distant. At first, it was subtle, a shift in the way he looked at you, the way he barely seemed to notice when you were around. But now, it had become glaringly obvious, especially in moments like this, when you found yourself desperately trying to keep the connection you two had built over the years.

You’d always been there for him, supporting him through everything the highs and the lows. But lately, whenever you tried to lean on him, he pulled away. The distance between you had begun to feel insurmountable, and tonight, surrounded by the group at the after-party, it felt like the final straw.

You felt an odd, uncomfortable pull as soon as you walked inside the party. The sight of Hyunjin laughing with the rest of the group should have made you happy, but instead it made your chest tighten with anxiety. He looked... unusual. His eyes, the way they avoided yours, made it clear that something had changed between you two. You despised the sense of being on the outside, like you didn't belong anymore.

You had tried to give him his space during the last few weeks, respecting the growing distance between you. But tonight, you were determined to be present. To pretend as if everything was still fine.

After all, you were his best friend, right?

You moved over to where he was sitting, talking with Seungmin and Jeongin. When they saw you approaching, Jeongin's face lit up with that warm, welcome smile that always put you at at ease. He gave you a warm nod and motioned for you to join them, which you immediately did, thinking that the familiarity of the situation could help the uneasiness that had begun to settle over you. But once you sat down, Hyunjin's tone changed. His eyes flicked across to you for a quick, unreadable look before returning to the others. You tried not to take it personally, but it hurt. Jeongin was chatting animatedly about something, but you couldn't pay attention. All you could think about was how Hyunjin had practically turned his back on you.

After a few moments, you couldn’t hold it in anymore. You leaned closer to Hyunjin, trying to keep your tone light, as if everything were normal. “Hey, Hyunjin... you good? You’ve seemed off lately.”

He looked at you, his expression suddenly sharp. “I’m fine,” he replied quickly, and there was a coldness to his voice that cut through you like ice.

You didn’t know what to say. You had always been able to talk through things before, but now it seemed like he didn’t even want to acknowledge you. You tried again, your voice trembling just slightly, “I’m just checking in... I’ve noticed you’ve been a little distant.

Hyunjin rolled his eyes, as if he were irritated with you asking. “You’re always around,” he said, his voice laced with annoyance. “I don’t need you following me everywhere. It’s annoying.”

The words hit you like a slap. You froze, the weight of his comment sinking deep into your chest. You had no idea where this was coming from. You had always been there for him, not because you needed to be, but because you cared about him. You wanted to be there. But now, suddenly, it felt like you were an inconvenience.

The room felt suffocating, the noise of the party growing distant as you tried to process what he had just said. You had always been careful not to smother him, always tried to give him space. But now he was telling you that your presence, your very existence, was too much for him.

It was too much.

The lump in your throat grew, but you weren’t going to let him see you falter. You tried to hold back the tears that threatened to spill over, but you couldn’t stop the rush of emotions that came flooding to the surface. You had tried so hard to be understanding, to be patient, but this was too much to handle.

Before you could say anything more, you snapped. “You know what, Hyunjin? I’m not following you around,” your voice trembling with a mix of hurt and frustration. “I’m only here because Felix invited me. As his date.”

The words hung in the air, sharper than you intended, but you didn’t care. You could feel the sting of betrayal, the way Hyunjin had made you feel small, and the anger bubbled up inside you. The room grew quiet for a moment, everyone’s attention now focused on the exchange.

You didn’t look at Hyunjin. You couldn’t. Instead, you turned on your heel, your pulse pounding in your ears, and walked straight to Felix, who was standing nearby. He gave you a surprised glance, but he didn’t ask questions. He simply wrapped an arm around you as you sat next to him, offering you a comforting presence in the midst of your emotional storm.

You didn't speak for a time, your thoughts racing from the argument, but Felix didn't press you to explain. He just let you sit there in peace, his arm resting comfortably on your shoulder. You leaned into him, attempting to center yourself and escape the overpowering pain that threatened to consume you whole. Felix did not deserve to bear the burden of your wounded heart, but in that time, his comfort was the only thing that made sense.

Hyunjin's gaze stayed fixed on you as the party went on. But you refused to look his direction. He'd already made it apparent that your presence no longer mattered to him. He had driven you away with his hurtful words, and as much as it pained you to admit it, you knew deep down that it was too late to fix things.

The rest of the night was a blur. You couldn’t stop thinking about what had happened, about how he had made you feel so small, so insignificant. The person who had once been your best friend, who had always been there for you, was now the one who had cast you aside. And the worst part was that you didn’t even know why.

As the party wound down and everyone began to leave, you stayed close to Felix, not looking back, not wanting to face Hyunjin. You didn’t know what had changed between you two, or why he had suddenly decided that your friendship wasn’t worth his time. All you knew was that the person who had once been your closest confidant, the one who knew all your secrets and fears, had just torn your heart apart.

And you didn’t know how to fix it.

HAN

The evening began like any other, or so it was supposed to be. But Jisung felt as if the world was pushing down on him with every step he made into the apartment. The intensity of the day still clung to him, like a physical weight of frustration, disappointment, and tiredness. He had spent hours in the meeting with the company staff, only to hear criticism for the smallest mistakes and missteps. It wasn't the first time, but it always hurt. This time, however, it seemed different; he couldn't shake the nagging sense of inadequacy.

The door clicked behind him, and the familiar aroma of home didn't bring much comfort. Instead, it was almost smothering. His limbs ached, his mind raced, and all he needed was peace, time to unwind.

But you were there.

You always were.

As soon as he walked through the door, your eyes searched his face, and he could see the concern etched over your features. He could tell you'd sensed something was wrong. He attempted to disguise it when he saw you earlier that day, brushing off your "are you okay?" with a quick "yeah, I'm fine," but now, as you stood there with that sweet look in your eyes, he couldn't help but see it. You could look right through him, like glass.

"Jisung," you said quietly, your voice carrying the gentle tone you always used when you knew he was struggling, "are you sure you're okay? You don’t look okay."

It wasn’t the first time you’d asked. You'd been asking since the moment he came home, like you always did when you saw him worn down, like you always did when he looked like he was holding a little too much in. But no matter how well you meant it, no matter how much you truly cared about him, he just didn’t want to talk about it. Not today. Not tonight.

"I’m fine," he muttered, his tone dismissive, but you could hear the edge in his voice.

You hesitated, eyes scanning him again, sensing the distance between his words and the tension in his body.

"Jisung… I know you’re not fine," you said softly, a frown pulling at your lips. You reached toward him, wanting to bridge the gap that was widening between you, but he stepped back before you could touch him.

"I’m fine," he repeated, louder this time, irritation lacing his voice. "Just stop asking."

Your heart twisted, but you tried to swallow the hurt, not wanting to push him further. But you couldn’t stop yourself from trying again, desperate to get him to open up. "Please, I can tell something’s wrong. If you need to talk, I’m here."

He froze at that, hands clenched at his sides, jaw clenched. His frustration, the irritation that had been building inside him all day, finally cracked open.

"I said I'm fine!" He snapped, his voice sharp, his eyes burning with anger, not at you, but at the world that had worn him down. "Why are you always so clingy? It's annoying. I do not need you hovering over me like this. I don't need you constantly keeping tabs on me!" The words were biting and nasty. You trembled, a flood of hurt smashing over you, but you tried to stay calm.

You couldn't help but feel the sting of dismissal and the weight of his harshness. "I'm just trying to help you," you said softly, your voice quivering slightly. "I just want to make sure that you're okay. Why don't you let me help?"

He glanced at you, the spark of guilt in his eyes swiftly drowned out by the a flood of frustration within him. He opened his mouth and nothing came out. He wanted to apologize. He knew he hurt you. But the words did not come, and he had no idea how to make it right. He didn't know how to ask for what he wanted when everything inside him felt like it was about to come apart.

You did not wait for him to say anything. The anger, bewilderment, and hurt welled up in your chest, and before you could stop yourself, you turned on your heel and marched out, your footsteps loud and strong as you made your way to the bedroom.

The door slammed behind you, and for a moment, there was nothing but silence. You sank onto the bed, feeling the weight of the frustration both his and yours press down on your chest like a suffocating blanket.

You didn’t want to cry. You didn’t want to feel this way. You had only wanted to help him. To be there for him when he was struggling. But all he had done was push you away.

You heard no footsteps, no soft knock on the door. Normally, when something like this happened, he would come after you. He would apologize, his voice soft and regretful, and you’d make up. He’d say something about how it wasn’t you, how he was just having a hard time. But this time, the silence stretched on. The door stayed closed.

It wasn’t long before you realized he wasn’t coming.

The silence felt so loud, so suffocating, and it only made everything hurt more. He wasn’t here to apologize. He wasn’t here to soothe you like he always did.

And maybe this time it wasn't all about him. Maybe it was more than simply his tiredness and irritation. Maybe it was about something deeper, something more than just a bad day at work. Your heart broke at the thought that he might have pushed you away because he didn't know how to accept you. Maybe he'd been hiding his pain for so long because he was frightened to show you the parts of himself he thought were too shattered. Maybe he was just too stressed to recognize that you weren't a burden, but rather someone who wanted to help him shoulder the weight.

But right now, none of that mattered. What mattered was that he had called you clingy, had pushed you away when all you wanted was to hold him close.

You curled up in bed, hugging your knees to your chest, and tried not to cry.

You didn’t hear him come in, but you felt the weight of the bed shift beside you. Jisung’s presence was always so familiar, so warm, but tonight it felt distant. He didn’t touch you. He didn’t say anything. He just sat there, in the darkness, as the minutes dragged on.

And you, as much as it hurt, didn’t know if you could ask him again if he was okay. Not yet. Not until he was ready to admit that he wasn’t.

felix

It had been one of those days where everything seemed strange, as if a thin film of tension had been applied to the edges of everything you did. The kind of day where even the most basic tasks felt significant, and no matter how hard you tried to make things feel normal, you couldn't escape the growing distance. Maybe you chalked it up to stress. Maybe it was just a phase. Everyone goes through a hard stretch, right? But when you woke in the middle of the night, your hand instinctively going for the warm spot beside you, only to find it empty, that emotion became too strong to ignore. Felix had always been the one to stay close, even in sleep. He was always so attentive to your needs, so present. But now, the space between you was cold, and the bed felt too large without him there.

You sat up, the quiet of the room pressing in on you, your heartbeat loud in your ears as you swung your legs off the side of the bed. The soft glow of the TV in the living room flickered across the hallway, casting long shadows.

As you made your way down the hall, you saw him there, slumped on the couch, his eyes fixed on the screen but unseeing, staring at it like it held some answer that he couldn’t quite grasp. You could see the strain in his posture, the weight of something pressing on him, but he didn't acknowledge you as you approached.

You stopped a few feet away, unsure what to say. The silence between you two felt like a wall, immovable and unbreakable. This wasn't the Felix you knew, the one who would always offer a comforting smile or an encouraging word when you needed it. This version of him was remote and frigid, as if he built a fortress and did not plan to let anyone in.

"Felix," you whispered slowly, trying not to shock him, your voice trembling with emotion. "What's wrong?"

He didn’t respond at first, as if he hadn’t heard you, or maybe he just didn’t want to answer. The minutes dragged on, each second feeling like it added more distance between you two. Finally, when he spoke, his voice was low and strained, and it hit you in a way you hadn’t expected.

“Nothing,” he muttered, though it was clear that wasn’t true. His words didn’t match the heaviness in the air, the emptiness that had settled between you two. “Just… leave me alone, okay?”

The words hit you like a punch to the gut. Leave him alone? You didn’t understand. Since when had he ever asked you for space, especially like this? Felix had always been the one to reach out, to comfort you, to be the one you could lean on when things got tough. But now, he was shutting you out, pushing you away.

You stood there, paralyzed, staring at the back of his head as the emptiness in the room seemed to swallow you whole. His posture was stiff, almost defensive, like he was trying to make himself smaller, trying to hide from you, and it hurt more than you ever expected.

"You don't have to be so clingy all the time," he said, his voice more clipped and distant than you'd ever heard. It was as if the words were spoken by someone else, a stranger in the body of the person you loved.

Clingy? The word resonated in your thoughts, sending you reeling. You'd never considered yourself clingy. Have you really gotten so annoying? Was your affection and presence too much for him? You couldn't understand it. The connection, the intimacy that had once been so natural between you two now seemed so far away, as if it were a dream you couldn't fathom.

“I just…” Your voice faltered, and you took a shaky breath, willing yourself not to cry, not to show him just how much his words had wounded you. “I just wanted to know what’s wrong. You’re… you’re not like this, Felix. Not with me.”

You took a tentative step forward, hoping that your proximity would reach him, that your presence would somehow break through the wall he had built around himself. But he didn’t move, didn’t acknowledge you, and that hurt more than anything else. It was the silence, the refusal to face you, that felt like a betrayal.

"Please talk to me," you whispered, your heart breaking as you watched him remain motionless on the couch, his eyes still fixed on the television, as though he could pretend you weren’t even there.

But Felix didn’t respond. Instead, he kept his focus on the screen, the distant expression on his face more painful than any argument. You could feel the distance between you growing, spreading like a chasm, and it felt like you were standing at the edge, about to fall into the void.

It wasn't always this way, you thought, recalling times when simply being in the same room was enough to make you feel connected. It seemed as if you blinked and everything had changed. He wasn't the same Felix who would stay up with you when you were feeling sad, holding you and whispering comfort in the darkness. The man who had once looked at you with warmth and love now seemed so distant, like a stranger you didn't recognize.

Your heart ached; the anguish of losing him, feeling him slide through your fingers, was almost excruciating. You could not tolerate the deafening stillness between you any longer.

With a last, desperate glance at him, you whispered, “I’m here, Felix. I’m always here for you. If you need space, if you need time, I’ll give it to you. But I just… I just need to know you’re okay.”

But he didn't respond and didn't move. His silence hurt worse than words could, and you realized, with a sickening feeling, that you had no idea where you stood in his life. The Felix you knew, the Felix who would always reach out to you, seemed like a memory you could no longer grasp onto. You turned away, your feet feeling heavy as you walked back to the bedroom, the distance between you two becoming more than just physical.

The weight of his disinterest crushed against your chest, smothering you, and you wondered whether things would ever be the same again. Will he come to you eventually? Would he tell you about what was bothering him, or had you already lost him in ways you couldn’t fix?

You climbed back into bed, the sheets cold where he should have been beside you. And as the night stretched on in silence, you tried not to feel the unbearable emptiness that had settled in your heart, wondering if Felix would ever look at you the same way again.

seungmin

The front door creaked open, and you could hear Seungmin's footsteps in the hallway, dragging slightly, indicating how exhausted he must have been after a long day of practice and vocal lessons. You'd been waiting for him, possibly too eagerly, though you tried not to admit it. You had planned to talk, the conversation you'd been putting off for days because the silence had gotten unbearable. The subtle shift in his demeanor, the way he became more distant and engaged in his own world, weighed heavy on your chest.

You knew how busy he was, how much work he put into his training and craft. But it didn't take away the sting of feeling like an afterthought, as if you were no longer a part of his life. You had tried to keep it together, to give him his space when he needed it, but the continual feeling of being neglected was gradually pulling you apart. You needed him to see you. You needed him to care the way he used to, to put forth the same effort that you did.

So, as the door clicked shut and you heard him move toward the kitchen, you braced yourself and entered the hallway to greet him.

"Seungmin," you called softly, but there was no immediate response. He didn’t even look up, didn’t even glance in your direction.

You took a breath, trying to keep the anxiety from choking you. "Can we talk?" Your voice was steady, though you could feel the tremor beneath it. "It feels like we’re not the same anymore."

His footsteps faltered for half a second, and you thought maybe you had caught his attention. But instead of stopping, he just continued walking past you, brushing past your shoulder so closely you could feel the coldness radiating off him. He didn’t even spare you a glance.

"Seungmin," you said again, but this time there was a little crack in your voice, a vulnerability you didn't want to express. You needed him to hear and see you, even if just for a moment. But he did not stop. Finally, he gave a low, exasperated groan that hung between you like a wall. He turned halfway, his eyes flickering to you with an enigmatic expression. "Why do you always make things so dramatic?" His comments were harsh, cutting through the silence and making you flinch. "You're really clingy. Just leave me alone for once."

The words were like a punch to the gut. The force of them knocked the wind out of you, and your heart seemed to stop for just a moment, trapped somewhere in the space between your chest and throat. You hadn’t expected this. You hadn’t expected him to say something so cold, so dismissive. All you had wanted was to talk, to bridge the distance that had formed between you, but now it felt like you were drowning in it.

Your body went still. You opened your mouth to respond, to explain how unfair that was, but no words came. How could you even argue against that? How could you explain that all you wanted was his attention, his care? You weren’t clingy you were hurt.

"Seungmin, I’m not—" The words tumbled out weakly, but they didn’t seem to matter.

"You are," he interrupted, his tone now flat, distant. "I don’t have the energy for this right now."

He turned away from you, heading toward the kitchen without another glance, leaving you standing in the hallway, shattered.

You stood there for a long moment, frozen in the aftermath of his words. Everything you had been holding back, all the frustration, the confusion, the loneliness that had built up over the last few weeks, was suddenly crashing down on you like a wave. Was that it? Was that all you were to him now? Someone who was too much to deal with?

You had never felt so small. So invisible.

You had tried to keep it together. You had told yourself it wasn’t a big deal, that he was just stressed, that he didn’t mean it. But now, standing there in the hallway with nothing but the echo of his dismissal ringing in your ears, you realized that maybe this was the problem the distance. The lack of communication. The feeling that no matter how hard you tried, you could never reach him, never get him to understand what you needed, what you were hurting from.

You wanted to chase after him, to try again, to make him see how much his words had stung. But something inside of you had broken. There was a voice inside you now that said, "It’s too late. You’ve tried. He doesn’t want to listen." And that was more painful than anything else knowing that, deep down, he didn’t even want to meet you halfway anymore.

You had hoped, and even prayed, that things would return to normal, that the love you once shared would reemerge. But standing there, you couldn't help but feel as if you were fighting a losing war. You didn't ask for much: simply his time, presence, and devotion. You never expected this level of coldness in return.

The silence in the home became intolerable, and each second felt like a weight on your chest. You wanted to yell at him and urge him to care, but all you could do was stand there, feeling the barriers between you two grow higher and higher.

You turned away slowly, your legs heavy, your head spinning with everything you had just heard. You didn’t know what hurt more: his words or the fact that he had walked past you like you were nothing.

You needed him to care, but right now, it felt like the person you needed was already gone.

I.N

The evening had been everything you hoped it would be: thrilling, warm, and full of laughing. You'd been dating Jeongin for about a year, and he was finally introducing you to his members. It seemed like an important milestone in your relationship. You'd heard so much about them, and now you'd get to meet the people he cared about the most. The anticipation had you beaming all evening as you helped Jeongin in cooking dinner, your heart filled with delight at the prospect of cooking together and spending time with the people who were such an important part of his life.

The dinner had gone smoothly. The atmosphere was cozy, filled with the sound of happy chatter and the clinking of silverware. The members were friendly, teasing each other and joking around. You could see why Jeongin was so close with them they were like brothers, comfortable and at ease with each other. You had felt so welcomed by them, their laughter contagious, and the food you had helped prepare had been met with praises.

As the night wore on, everyone settled into the living room, enjoying sweet treats and wine. It was the perfect end to a perfect evening, or so you had thought.

But as the evening wore on, you noticed something that made your stomach churn. Jeongin was distant. He had been quieter than normal, with his focus wandering. Normally, he would be the first to steal a kiss from you or press his hand on yours if you were close. But tonight? Tonight, it felt as if he was purposefully keeping distance between the two of you.

You brushed it off at first, believing he was just weary or stressed after introducing you to everyone. After all, meeting his members was a major step, and maybe he was just concerned with making sure things went smoothly.

But it wasn’t just that.

When you leaned in to rest your head on his shoulder, like you had done numerous times before without thinking twice, he pulled away almost immediately. The action was swift and sharp, as if you had done something wrong. You blinked in surprise, a frown tugging on your lips, but before you could ask what was wrong, he mumbled under his breath, just loud enough for you to hear, "Stop being so clingy." The words struck you like a physical punch. You froze, the warmth of your feelings for him vanished, replaced by a frigid knot of perplexity and embarrassment. Did he mean it? You could feel the weight of the members' gazes as you looked around the room, though no one said anything. But you could tell they had heard, the awkward silence that followed making it painfully clear.

You felt heat rising up your cheeks, humiliated. Had you overstepped? You had never been clingy before and had never thought of yourself in that way. But his comments, which were cutting and contemptuous, hurt more than you wanted to acknowledge. The casual tenderness you had always shared seemed like a distant memory today, a bitter reminder of how things had changed without warning.

Jeongin had always been so warm and tactile with you. Kisses on your cheek while cooking, his arm slung over your shoulder while watching TV, all the little things that made you feel safe and cherished. But tonight? Tonight he was a different person.

You tried to ignore it, thinking maybe it was a bad moment. Perhaps he was just tired, or maybe something had happened at work or with the members that was weighing on him. But as the night continued, the distance between you only seemed to grow. When you tried to brush your hand against his, he pulled it away, a small frown on his face. When you tried to rest your head on his shoulder again, he shifted uncomfortably, avoiding your touch with a small sigh.

It was as if you were a stranger to him, someone he couldn’t stand to be close to.

Your heart dropped. It was a feeling you never expected to have with him, the type of coldness that made you question everything, including the entire foundation of your relationship. You had no idea what was going on in his mind, but the way he was treating you now felt so different from the Jeongin you had fell for.

You excused yourself to the restroom, needing a moment to collect your thoughts and prevent yourself from entirely disintegrating. The quiet hum of the talk in the living room followed you as you walked back, the members' voices merging into the background as your thoughts occupied you.

Was he angry with you? Had you done something wrong? Maybe he was embarrassed by you, by your clinginess. Maybe he didn’t want to be seen as the guy who couldn’t control his girlfriend. Maybe you were being too needy, too dependent, and he just couldn’t handle it anymore. Maybe he had changed, and you were the one who had failed to notice.

You stared at your reflection in the bathroom mirror, taking a few deep breaths, trying to calm the tightness in your chest. When you returned to the living room, you tried to smile, to pretend like everything was fine. But the look on Jeongin’s face when you came back made your stomach twist even further. He didn’t smile at you like he usually did. He didn’t reach for you. He just sat there, a distance between you that felt like an ocean.

You sat down again, feeling smaller than you had with him before. You did not want to confront him in front of the other members. Not when things were going so well. You didn't want to ruin the evening or make things uncomfortable for everyone. But the awkwardness was already there. It seemed like a thick cloud suffocating you, and you knew he felt the same way.

Eventually, the evening came to an end. The group began saying their goodbyes, laughing and conversing, although their voices were scarcely audible. You were too consumed by the subtle tension between you and Jeongin, who hadn't spoken anything to you since your previous conversation. You gently grabbed your stuff, not quite meeting his eyes.

When you reached the door, Jeongin still hadn’t moved. He was standing by the couch, talking to one of the members, completely ignoring you. It wasn’t how you thought it would go. This wasn’t how you imagined the night would end.

It wasn’t until you were halfway out the door that he finally spoke, his voice distant, flat. "You okay?" he asked, as if the tension between you hadn’t been there all evening.

You stood frozen, looking back at him, your chest tight. You wanted to say so many things. You wanted to ask why he was acting this way, to demand an explanation, to tell him how hurt you were by the way he had dismissed you. But you didn’t. Instead, you forced a small smile, though it didn’t reach your eyes.

"Yeah," you replied softly, your voice quiet, strained. "I’m fine."

And then you stepped out, leaving the apartment behind, the discomfort and uncertainty lingering in the air like a thick cloud. You had no idea what had happened or what had caused this abrupt change, but you couldn't shake the feeling that something in your relationship had just broken. Something that might not be fixable.

And as the door clicked shut behind you, you weren't sure if Jeongin noticed.

//

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