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lixies-favorite-cookie · 11 hours

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rewrite the ending in every lifetime・l.f

—From the moment Felix saw you drawing your dreams in the sand, he knew you were a daughter of the seas, with frozen fingers and feelings like the tide. So when the waves rush overhead, he will place his soul upon your tongue so your hollow heart can finally feel the warmth of the sun.

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠・felix x mommy issues!reader 𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞𝐬・angst, smut, a collection of moments the two of you have ever wanted to say I love you, his vow to find your soul in every lifetime, elutions to supernatural connections of humans hearts 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬・8.1k 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬・The reader had mommy issues that are heavily described, manipulation, verbal abuse, references to physical abuse but it really isn't described, love bombing, alcoholism, references to blades and knives, sweet PIV sex, an ungodly amount of crying, panic attacks, there are some potentially disturbing descriptions in this honestly, uhh pregnancy and proposals (its really cute I promise) 𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐬 ・If you want to see the preview for this story look here 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐲𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 ・Family Line by Conan Gray, If the World Was Ending by Jp Saxe and Julia Michaels, The Night We Met by Lord Huron, Cover Me by Our Beloved Stray Kids, Evergreen by Richy Mitch & The Coal Miners.

𝐚/𝐧・I have poured my heart and soul into this fic; I hope it heals you how it healed me.

i. It is the wounds we hide from the light that beg most to be seen.

Age 12.

Scene one.

The sand feels like stardust as you glide your hands across the sky, your frozen fingers tracing the edge of an anguished cry.

lair.

You write in scribbled chicken scratch,

lair.

You wipe it all away.

The ruthless afternoon sun glares off the playset before you, stabbing through your eyelids. You actually have to squint to make out any of the children shrieking and playing on the variety of scattered sets; a few push and shove each other on the slides, while the quiet, more reserved ones sit silently on the swings. Some were climbing on the monkey bars, others spinning on the merry-go-round, and then there was you, 12-and-a-half, drawing their sorrows in the sandbox.

You don't even know why you come here anymore. It almost makes you chuckle, imagining how others must see you—too old, too tall, too out of place to be sitting in a snot-infested box that smelled like the remnants of many, many nasty toddlers.

Though, as silly as it seemed, you needed an escape, an outlet to channel all this burning rage. You wanted to flip the world inside out, turn it around and upside down; shake it, shake it, shake it untill humans finally had some common sense. I mean, really, how could they not see it? How could anybody not see it?

The worst part of it is you don’t even have a reason to be mad. You hadn’t argued, you hadn’t fought, she hadn’t hit you, hadn’t taken away your stuff. No, that isn’t why you were mad.

You were mad because she's a liar.

A big, fat, ugly, fucking liar.

Her love only ever pools at the tip of a knife, the glint of all your hopes and dreams; It shimmers and shines in the overhead lights, in the cloud of the crowd’s ceaseless cheers. See it, look everyone, I'm great. Her hands cover their eyes. Look, world, she's trying. Do you see it? She's trying. She's trying, you're crying, and the world only ever applauds.

You sigh, smacking your hands on your thighs. You were inches away from combusting—Your emotions, like unreleased electricity, coalescing in the pit of your gut, one wrong spark away from exploding.

Why couldn't anybody see it?

An earsplitting screech of pure bliss pierces your eardrums as you snap your neck up. It wasn’t really hard to pinpoint the noise, figuring every few beats it would happen again. The sound was home to a little girl with blond braided hair and a smile that rivaled the sun, but it wasn’t her that caught your attention the most—It was the boy behind her, gently pushing her on the swings. Your heart skips in your chest; he was beautiful, the unique type of pretty, the kind that’s utterly humane. He had sprays of freckles and cheeks that permanently crinkled in a grin.

Who was he?

Perhaps it was Cupid’s feathered wings that tickled the boy’s chin up, because as soon as your gaze lifts, he inadvertently steps into a patch of light—his amber irises seeming to be encrested with honeyed seaglass, a phenomenon only created by the restless tumbling of a thousand folded seas; and even with an ocean of blinding afternoon sun, his eyes still found you.

Well, now that you really think about it, you were staring at him first, so it really isn’t as magical as your brain makes it up to be. But still—

You feel your lips part, your stomach flipping upside down. You would have usually been embarrassed, caught staring at such a beautiful boy, but you were floored, utterly flummoxed. Cupid drew his stringed bow, and with a flick of a finger, your heart was ensnared.

Subconsciously, you slip your hand into your front pocket, your thumb running over the smooth surface of a million different frosted bottles.

You found comfort in the concept—how easily humans discarded their broken trash, and in the excruciating process of being shattered, crushed, destroyed, the sea smoothed out their jagged edges. It was not their gruesome end; no, it was their birth.

Their birth into something so captivating so unique—

You were seaglass.

You wanted to be seaglass.

You were way too young to be thinking about the phenomenon of the ocean and the wisdoms of the world.

He was nothing less than breathtaking as his nose crinkled, the corners of his eyes disappearing into crescent moon-shaped slits. He was staring at you the same way one would look at an adorable puppy that just fell straight on its ass.

Oh, well, here comes the embarrassment. It hits you like a semi-truck, reality slamming into you harder than the tonnage before. There you were, sticky in sweat-caked sand, shifting through dirt and grime like a grody toddler, and there he was, innocently playing with what is probably his kid sister, looking perfect and beautiful and impossibly unsweaty.

Like, actually, how is he not sweating? It’s at least a million degrees out here. He catches your eyes again, his grin slowly forming into some (mysterious) mix between curious and mischievous. He eases the swing to a stop. The little girl grumbles in protest before he leans down into her ear, whispering something that makes her smile and nod, innocently toddling off into the abyss of grass and giggles.

You wonder why he stopped playing with her—that is until he starts walking over to you.

You had never, in all your 12 years of existence, heard a voice so naturally inviting—like the tender lullaby of whispering rain.

"Hi, my name's Felix. What's yours?"

Your lips formed around the letters—the way they fit so perfectly in your mouth.

In every lifetime, you turned the words on your tongue like a promise forgotten in the stars.

In every lifetime I will find you.

With jarring familiarity, you take his extended hand, blushing profusely when he asks if he can take a seat, you almost tweak a muscle nodding with such enthusiasm.

And in every lifetime, I will make you mine.

ii. I could find your soul in the sky because yours is the only one that smells like home.

Age 16.

Scene two.

"You look like shit," Felix teases, a pencil lodged firmly between his teeth; he was obnoxiously chipper for a Monday morning in math class.

You roll your eyes, tossing your backpack onto the floor of the classroom with a heavy-handed flick.

"Fuck off and die," you smile, slumping into your seat.

Felix lets out a forceful laugh, shocked by your abrupt hostility. His mouth stays agape far into the droning silence, his brain scrambles into damage control when you lack an immediate explanation.

“Come on now, is that any way to talk to your best friend?” He showcased his obnoxiously large smile with the bottoms of his palms in a gesture that said, Look at me. His goofy antics would usually make you at least grin, but today you were the very epitome of exhausted, swimming in a vat of thickening cement. You just wanted to melt into the comfort of your fluffy sheets—

The room erupts in a cacophony of screaming voices and roaring laughter.

Why must humans be so loud?

You groan, scooting your chair so close to Felix your bodies are practically smooshed together. If it bothered him, he didn't show it—or maybe you were too tired to notice. Either way, you drop your head onto the dip of his shoulder, his heat wrapping around you like a threadbare blanket—just enough warmth to dull the bite of a chill, but never enough to melt the ice.

"Somebody's tired," he coos with a hint of concern, slipping an arm over your shoulders. You nod, mumbling something along the lines of "tired" and "understatement." Your eyelids flutter shut to the sound of his heartbeat, and even under the bright fluorescent lights, everything starts to dim.

That is until your teacher shakes you awake, rudely plunging you back into the land of the living. You blink a few times, Felix's face a blur. You clear your throat. Your teacher was a short lady with a smile like a snob and her hair styled in a bob. She was loud and callous, with the temper of an obnoxious lapdog. You dig your palms into your eyes until your vision is painted in Picasso.

"We have a test today, L/N. I would sit up if I were you," she says, tossing two packets onto the desk, she flicks her eyes between the two of you, before pursing her lips like a woman clutching her pearls.

Of course.

Of fucking, fuckudy, fucking, course.

Of all the days.

Most of your night was encased in a bubble of beer, the stench of anguish, and the echo of wet cries. Your mother insisted on proving her godliness until the sun came up, for she, the untouchable essence of perfection, could never be wrong.

You nodded in and out of consciousness, only ebbing along the edge of the ocean before the tide pulled away.

You just wanted to sleep.

"Hey, wake up," Felix says, softly nudging you awake. His touch is feather-light, but it feels like the stab of a thousand sharpened pencils, the way your annoyance flares up.

"No," you croak, the lights like little lanterns reflecting off the surface of your tears. He hesitates for a moment, his tender hand leaving your skin for just enough time to make you crave it more.

"You have to wake up, or you're going to fail the test." He mumbles, gently lacing his fingers through your hair.

"I don't care anymore." You were traipsing on a tightrope with a body made of glass. You slip, you fall, you risk it all to tumble into his embrace. You felt it in your bones, the way he smelled like home, and you'd give anything to have it back.

Just once.

"Please," you whisper. It grates in his ears like gravel, your watery lashes cracking his heart in two.

You wanted to go home.

He pauses, narrowing his eyes in indecision before biting his lip and turning to scan Mrs. Womperbottom. You sit impatiently, bouncing your legs up and down. He flicks his stare to you, all your eye bags and smudged makeup, with that, his gaze softens, face melting into a small smile.

"Okay." He concedes, taking your body into his hands, carefully nuzzling your head to sit snug on the curve of his chest. You were so glad to sit in the back, especially as the world fades to black.

"I expected far more from you, young man."

It had been a few days since you fell asleep in Felix's arms, opting to turn in a blank packet rather than fight the urge to skydive without a parachute. Your brows furrow as your teacher frowns in disappointment. Felix, whose cheeks turn red as his eyes grow wide—equal parts panic and regret—seems to know exactly what's going on.

She flips the packet around. His fingers wrap around the paper, never turning it to see the depth of the damage. Only when he hastily unzips his bag, do you notice in the frenzy of movement—

A thick red F at the front.

Your jaw goes slack, lips gaping ever so slightly. He doesn’t meet your gaze, even when the room erupts in a deafening ring, chairs screeching as people scamper out. Your eyes blur like the lens of an old camera, faulty with the ages of time.

Carefully, you turn your page.

Your mouth is filled with sand.

You never did the test.

You flick through the edges of oblivion.

Every answer.

Every circle.

He did your test for you.

It was the sheer selflessness of his act that threw you for a loop—how a man who could have the whole world at the tip of his fingers could also be so impossibly kind.

That was a feat you believed no human was capable of, cynicism long engraved into your DNA. Your own blood was indebted to your mother, so how could a man with no inherent obligation to you, show such devotion?

"In the scars of sea glass, you will find your answer," the stars whispered.

"He loves you," the universe says.

"Do not doubt his intentions," time tells. "His soul has already found you in every lifetime."

iii. There are so many things in the world that must first collapse before it is born; why do we not believe humans are the same way?

Three months ago.

Scene Three.

Playing: The Night We Met.

"I love you, you know that, right, baby?" your mother slurs, her words tangled in a cloud of stale beer. She called you in a fit of drunken giggles, professing her undying ardor, wedged between passive pleas to come pick her up.

Something deep inside you screams as her arm wraps around your waist, the voice you fought to hide, it sounds and pounds at the walls of your ribs.

Not again, please.

You had spent so much of your life tangled in her web of lies, pulling at every poisoned thread.

Mirror, mirror on the wall, how many different ways can I make my daughter fall?

“I love you so, so much,” she cocoons your cheeks in comforting hands, and almost for a minute, you fall into the fuzz, into the black and blurry buzz of the mix between right and wrong.

She does not love you.

She loves your reflection and how it so greatly mirrors hers.

You were an extension of herself, the one she holds, the one she molds, her fingerprints sticking in the sand.

Brick by brick, she builds you up.

Mirror, mirror on the wall, how many different ways can I make my daughter fall?

She loves you, she says.

But she is in love with a mirror, the shattered glass of a battered reflection, the one that can never improve.

For she is too great in her empty state; she has nothing to prove.

You will never change a woman made of stone.

You will only ever break your bones.

So you drop the remote

with an echoing plop

and let all her love leak out.

You don’t really love me, do you?

Just pretend one more time.

Just one more time.

You drag her stumbling figure up a grueling flight of stairs. She giggles and hiccups when one of her feet catches on the edge of a step.

Her eyes are clouded as you lower her onto the bed. She caresses your cheek with silky fingers.

You relapse.

Rewind.

“Come lay with me, baby.”

You don’t cry, don’t die as the tip of her knife digs into the skin of your thigh.

You collapse into the warmth of her covered arms, shrouded with the lies of alcohol.

Brick by brick.

You nuzzle your head deeper into her neck.

She builds you up.

Just one more time.

She curls her hands around your heart.

I love you.

Your mother was too in love with herself to find room in her heart to love you.

Your tears taste like sorrow when they seep onto your tongue, cascading down your shuddering lips like the bullets of rain that whip across your face, dripping into your sodden shirt. Your heart was burdened by paradox, the overwhelming tonnage of utter desolation; you sink your fingers into your chest as if breaking the surface of snow, searching for any sign of humanity.

Perhaps it was fate's gentle hand that guided you from stumbling through your mother's desolate driveway to softly rapping your knuckles on Lee Felix's front door, cause the moment your weary feet touched his familiar steps, something stirred deep within. In a multiverse of infinite universes, it felt as though every timeline suddenly collided, merging to form this pivotal moment in your history—the story of you and him. The mere thought made you question its legitimacy, until the door creaked open, and suddenly, everything you'd almost forgotten came rushing back.

It was the disheveled state of his hair that you notice first—tousled atop his head like a misty halo; his eyes were heavy-lidded, foggy with frosted sea glass. You choke back a sob; the sunlit streetlights really do him wonders.

The moment you step into his line of sight, he can sense something is wrong. You're soaked to the bone, though the rain is barely coming down; your eyes glazed with a grief so acute it resonates in his very core.

He reaches a hand out—

"Y/N, what happened?"

You unravel; your knees giving out, all the energy spent on keeping yourself upright diffuses into an agonizing sob. Your hands find purchase on his steady shoulders as you threaten to collapse straight into the wet patio floor.

The universe had split apart, the sky falling down. You were crumbling, caught in between thick chunks of earth; you couldn’t breathe—

you gasp

The weight of a quivering world crashes into your chest, an earthquake erupting at the base of your spine. You were the daughter of destruction, bleeding with the wrath of humanity's woe.

Wordlessly, Felix chases your agony down, drawing you gently into his embrace. You had rehearsed your excuses all the way here, but when his arms wrap around your waist, the lies soak straight back into your throat.

Settled atop folded thighs, his free hand moves; lacing his fingers around the nape of your neck. His lips like life, pressing into the cold, dead skin of your outer shell; he grazes the apple of your cheek, the slope of your nose, the flat of your forehead, the tremble in your hand; and at last, with hooded eyes, his gaze finds your mouth. You are an amalgamation of quivering limbs, your bones like leaves; he locks his strength around the base of your spine, palms steading you from the outside in.

And yet, you lament, how desperately you wanted his lips to form around your flesh with the irrevocable promise of always, but you know the ramifications of such a thing; you were the embodiment of devastation, born with a blade in your hand, you would only ever hurt him. He did not deserve that. So instead of chasing your dreams, you chase the solitude of his skin, firm against your cheek.

"I'm here." He is—through it all. Through every violent hiccup and every hushed sob, Felix stays with you, fierce hands anchoring you back into reality. Finally, after lifetimes locked in this position, you find the strength to plead, "Do you think we could go somewhere?"

I would go anywhere with you, is what he wants to say.

“Of course,” is what he does.

A muted smile tugs at the corners of your cheeks, and with every labored rise of your chest, he fights the urge to hook his hand underneath your jaw, sucking all your pain into his lips. He doesn't. Instead, he lifts you up and follows his feet wherever your soul wants to take him.

He hooks his ardency on the sun as it starts to sink low. The world is dipped in darkness, perforated by the warmth of a cratered moon. Déjà vu follows you down the dark, dirt-paved road, marked by children's footsteps. Your heavy steps stop, mouth forming around the shape of a suffocated gasp. The trees rustle in the breeze, the wind slapping against the metal of a misty memory.

You had never, in all your 12 years of existence, heard a voice so naturally inviting—like the tender lullaby of pattering rain.

"Hi, my name's Felix. What's yours?"

Your lips formed around the letters—the way they fit so perfectly in your mouth.

In every lifetime, you turned the words on your tongue like a promise forgotten in the stars.

He remembered.

He really remembered.

Felix could never forget.

"Well, what are you waiting for? Come on!" he calls out, breaking into a backward jog, his smile beckoning you closer to the swings.

And with a swipe of his hand, you have already left your afflictions on the imprint of your shoes. Cold rubber hits you first, your thighs bouncing into the seat. His fingers latch around the frame of your waist, thrusting you into the air.

You laugh with the resonance of lost youth.

Time slips from your fingers like dust, forgotten in the way you had drifted from the swings to the slides, only to circle back again. It wasn’t until your skin had brushed every corner of the park that you found yourself lying on the damp earth, sinking deeper into the solace of Felix’s chest. His heart hums like the rhythm of a song so intimate, you could recite the whole melody from just the first note.

Stars blink overhead, still—sparkling, spread across the sky like golden thread sewn into rippling silk. You first settle into comfortable silence, both equally at peace, but the heavy burden of unspoken questions leaks into the calm air; forcing you to speak.

Softly, weakly, you tell him about your fears, about how much you hate her, how much you hate loving her, and how much you want to rip out every helix of her DNA.

Felix doesn't respond for a long time after this, inhaling your confessions with all the deference you deserve. Your heart slams into the slats of your ribs, shaky breaths forced into the balmy summer breeze. There was something so potently terrifying about voicing your issues, especially after masking them for so long; your pain splintered across the ground like the most fucked-up stained glass—as though Felix could sense your building anxiety, he kisses the crown of your head, murmuring into your hair:

"Even the moon hides parts of herself from the sun."

At that moment, with overwhelming certitude, you knew—even littered with secrets and scars, his rays would kiss whatever side you wished to show.

"In every lifetime," you plead through tear-stained lashes.

Maybe in another universe, you could be easy to love.

“In every lifetime.” Aged fingers run the length of your soul, tracing the vow 'I do.' In every lifetime, he would find you—broken or whole, with the sky falling, the sea sinking, the world tumbling down.

"Stay with me," you whisper to the wind as the stars start to dim.

"Always." He will find you in every lifetime and love every mangled piece.

The ocean.

You are wrapped in its cool embrace. The shore hums with soft lullabies as the wind whips across the water. Amorphous mist floats along the top of the sand, shrouding it in a dreamlike shade. Your fingers are formless as they dip into the darkness. Something sparkles. You lift your gaze.

Sea glass.

It’s basked in warm moonlight, buried in a fissure of the earth. You collapse onto the ground, your knees quivering as frantic fingers dig into the land.

Your hands are cold, holding something so old. You flip the smooth stone.

I love you.

You run your thumb over the inscription.

I love you.

It is only through the tumbling of a thousand folded seas that sea glass can even come to be, and maybe, that is how your soul found me.

You wake up in a bed that isn't your own with the warmth of the sea and the smell of home.

I love you.

iv. Just once, let him rewrite the story; just once, he promises you will never have to watch the same ending again.

Present day.

Scene four.

Playing: Cover Me.

The screen flickers off.

The velvet curtains close.

The world fades to black.

The End

Your ribs crack open, heavy sobs echoing through the gaps of your unfolded bones. Your hands make purchase around your shredded soul, the warm liquid of your sorrows trickling through your splayed fingers like the shadow's phantom finger tracing the lines of your melancholy, dusting over the hill of your cheeks.

One more time.

Just one more time.

You rewind the tape-

The velvet curtains stutter open.

The screen flashes white.

Just one more time.

How many times could you watch the same movie before you realized the ending would never change?

You rewind the tape-

How many times could you lick her love off the edge of a knife before you realize the blade will never dull?

You slide the tip across your tongue-

Just one more time.

Please.

Just pretend to love me one more time.

"For once, can you admit that you're wrong?" you snap, attempting to steady your rising voice.

You've been arguing with your mother for centuries, breath grating across your throat like grains of sand. It took every shred of mental stability not to bash your head into the wall.

"I did what I had to do to teach you discipline; you were unruly-"

"I was nine!" you shout, a weak, wounded cry. "Nine!"

How could she not see that?

"I did it because I loved you."

Where did the argument even begin? You search the past 30 minutes, all the way from the start, sitting on the couch with Felix, The Princess Bride playing in the background. Your ringing phone cuts through the movie. He tells you to answer it. You do. What happened after that? Your head is foggy with hurt, time forced into an everlasting circle of the same issues.

"Maybe you should reevaluate your definition of love."

"Maybe you should have just been a better daughter."

The signal of an ended call rings through your ears as the world fades to black.

The velvet curtains close.

The screen flickers off.

The movie sputters to a stop.

The End

You are far too entranced with the stillness of your spine to hear the door creak open, Felix’s hesitant footsteps carefully creep closer. It is only when he mumbles a soft, saturnine "sweetheart" that you finally feel something-

"How did it go?" Felix believed the strings of your souls were so intertwined, the two of you experienced emotions the way an instrument feels the thrum of a cord; but as your heart pumps with an intangible amount of anguish, maybe even for you, some feelings were simply too subjective to share.

Wordlessly, thoughtlessly, your hand chases his touch, a million different uncompleted sentences dissipating as soon as your skin connects; your fingers beg, hold me, even as your mouth shutters shut, dusty rivulets cascading across your cheeks.

You were empty.

so, so, very empty-

Felix's hands lock underneath the bend of your knees, steady arms curling around the small of your back, and in a gentle flow of movements, he cradles you against his chest.

You rewind the tape.

Just one more time.

"Please," you have lived so much of your life caught in a perpetual state of emptiness, for once, you wanted to remember what your body was like before your mother bore you with the heavy burden of broken wings.

"Touch me," shaky fingers cling to him, pleading with so much of your soul none is left to protest. He gasps into your neck, his face scrawled with worry, the etch of a thousand different fears drawn into the deep lines of his forehead.

Just once

Let him rewind the film

Just once

You will never have to watch the same ending again.

"Are you sure this is what you want?" Though his words are unsure, his actions tell a different story; tender hands massage the tops of your thighs, reluctantly begging you to open up, to unfold your deformed ribs, where he will fill your hollow bones with the type of love you have only ever yearned for.

"I need you."

You need him more than you need your heart to beat, your lungs to breathe; you need him more than you need the birds, the bees, the ground, the trees—

Your frantic fingers smooth around the base of his neck, further blurring the line of friendship; and in one sharp movement, he takes a sledgehammer to any hope of going back. Your lips collided with the zeal of years lost to silent longing, a kiss that unfurled all time and space, bursting with the passion of hearts starving for connection.

He would not hurt you-

Please, collapse into him, just once-

Let him prove that you will never have to fall again-

This could ruin everything, and yet he lays you upon the silken sheets with such soulful kindness your glassy eyes threaten to break; his heart thrums with the vow of I'll make you fly. His hand dips into the band of your shorts, pleasure peeking out from the shadows of your mind, only ever bobbing its head long enough to fill your skin with a minute tingling sensation—like running your hands under hot water after a long day in the snow, but it was not enough.

"Felix, I need you," His eyes widen slightly, features stricken with a sudden tightness, a burdened tonnage; you were handing him your heart with the hope his hands weren't made of blades, and the idea of the utter trust you have put in him to do that makes his stomach flip.

Just once—

He will prove it all to you.

"As you wish," Not even 20 minutes ago you were sitting on the couch watching the greatest love story ever told, and now, here you are living it. How did you get so lucky? It's unfathomable how attentive he manages to be, his nose nudging the slope of your neck before laying a peck on your collarbone. His mouth never leaves your flesh even as he slowly strips off layer after layer of fabric.

"I want to see all of you" Now it was your turn, taking his time removing your clothes. His fingers slide across your skin with a delicate intimacy, a tender reverence; his lips tracing the lines of your seams until your very atoms are etched with his name.

I hate her

I love you

He coupled every leak of anger with a river of love, kissing your limbs until all your body could remember was the pureness of his ardor.

"Are you ready?" he whispers, lining himself with your entrance, all he needs is a word to finally sink himself in. Your eyes are glossy, gazing up at him with such an unadulterated passion, a pure amount of pain—this will tear you apart, and he promises with every fiber of his being, he will put you back together.

"Yes." You have lived most of your life with the heavy burden of a body’s broken wings, and it isn't until Felix’s crafted hands finally crease your ribs that you realize origami can only emerge when you fold it up, the way a bird can only fly when it falls.

You are an amalgamation; so much of your soul is lost in his lips you don't know where he begins and you end, but when a rush of pleasure tingles up your spine, you don't care.

The world is tangled somewhere on the edge of in-between space and time, melding together into a mushy, gushy substance that slips through your fingers as they lace in his raven locks. You pour all your pain into the slit of his lips, where he sucks in every drop, leaving no room for your protests.

Your head is empty, airy, only tethered to the earth by one dangerous thought:

I love you. You did. You have; in every timeline; in every universe; in every lifetime; you have loved him, and you knew with all your heart, he felt the same.

“I love you.” The words slip off your tongue, dripping into his mouth like melting snow. You had fallen in love with existence itself—a boy with a soul made of sun and eyes like sea glass. A man whose strings reached across every plane of time to find you. His fingers still, a soft burst of air puffing into your cheeks.

For minutes, hours, Felix can only stare, his strangled breaths wafting over your chin. You gulp, at least five differently worded apologies tangling themselves on your tongue. He doesn’t let you speak. Instead, he brings his hands to either side of your face, resting his forehead against your own; on your lips, not fear, but instead, words.

"Say it again," he urges, kisses split by the warmth of a starlit smile.

"I love you, Lee Felix." you share the galaxy in between your lips.

His arms slip around your waist, drawing you impossibly closer; there are no limits, no constraints when he captures your shuddering gasp. He has waited years to hear those words, so with a breathy rasp, he begs, "Tell me you love me, tell me until you are sick of it."

"I love you," you repeat, beginning to laugh. "I love you. I love you, fuck, Felix, there has never been a time where I haven't loved you."

The passion that surged in the twists of your heartbeats began to be too much to bear; his hips ruthlessly rutting into yours, you cry out, chasing the edge of a daydream. So close, so close, so—you can only hear the crash of your soul shattering before his ginger fingers sew you back together.

You both slam down into the earth at the same time, holding each other's tired bodies as the ground swallows you up.

His arms lock around your head, quivering as he struggles to hold himself up, droplets of tears land on your cheeks as they drip down the slope of his nose. He was so perfect-

so, so, very perfect.

Your mouth raises to kiss a tear clinging to the tip of his nose. He chokes, squeezing his eyes shut. You both are thrumming with tension, overflowing with emotion; before you can even blink, he is pulling you to his chest, naked and sticky, he holds you closer than you have ever been.

"I love you." He cups your trembling cheeks, throat tightening around the earnestness in his tone. You can run from the stars; you can hide from the bay, but his love will find you just as the sun finds the day.

v. She is only in your DNA.

Five months later.

Scene five.

Playing: If the world was ending.

Anxiety is like a cup that never falls, the tease of water sloshing at the rim. It comes in inclines—the clench in your chest, the flip in your stomach, the tremble in your spine. The world begins to quake, the table tips, the water shifts, but none of it ever pours out.

That was how you felt right now, a bright pink river rushing underneath your feet, sinking deeper and deeper into the abyss.

No matter how many times you squeezed your eyes and wished it all away, reality still managed to smack you in the face.

Positive

Your numb hand goes limp, the plastic pregnancy test tumbling to the tiles with a deafening crack. Cold porcelain seeps into your skin as you drop your tear-stained cheeks between your knees, all your deepest, darkest fears suddenly snapping into view.

"Just wait until you have kids." Sometimes, it is the most overpowering emotions you can feel most clearly.

Determination.

"One day, when I grow up, I'll meet the perfect guy, and get married, and have tons of babies—and I will do it all without ever becoming you." She scoffs, rolling her shoulders as if she had already unraveled the scrolls of your soul, and engraved on the paper was your life, traveled down a perfectly mirrored path.

"I said the same thing when I was your age, but then I had the kids, and everything changed. You aren't going to be able to do it."

You were only 13 then, and yet, with unwavering resolve, you declared, "Watch me."

How were you going to tell him? Was your first thought.

How could you manage to be a mother? Was your next.

You dug your hands into your chest, wishing to tear your seams. In her womb, she had stitched you up, and now you spent every waking moment trying to unravel the threads.

You wanted to vomit—vomit until your blood ran dry, until it curdled around your muscles, trembling over the cold toilet seat.

"Watch me," you had said.

"Watch me fall apart" is what you had meant.

So she does, through the blurred layers of your reflection, her eyes staring back. Why did you have to bear such an eerie resemblance to her? The power she held over you was suffocating, for even in thought, she found ways to claw at your lungs.

Mirror, mirror, on the wall, how many different ways can I make my daughter fall?

It's been hours.

Many, many hours before Felix finds you huddled beside the toilet bowl. Your dead eyes stare—just stare. Not blinking. Not moving. Not twitching an inch. His reaction is almost instant; he drops to his knees, jerking you towards himself. He grips your pale cheeks, begging you to look at him—just once. Blink. Flinch. Move something. Finally, finally, like little butterfly wings, your eyelids flutter to life. Before you can even speak, he's yanking your head onto his chest, his heart pounding vehemently inside the thin fabric of his cotton T-shirt.

Though every cell in your body screams at you to stay, you withdraw. Your gaze is laden when it lands on him, and for a moment, he is taken aback—that is, until you slip a slim white object into his palms.

Silence.

That is what precedes your actions. He stuffs your heart into a meat grinder, and with every excruciating minute that passes, it feels like he cranks it up one level higher. He reads the result over and over, breaking it down to syllables, letters—backwards, forwards, flipped upside down. Part of him didn't believe it—not that he didn't want to believe it, but simply because he couldn't. It felt impossible, improbable, really. His tongue twisted into knots between his teeth, rendering him utterly speechless. So instead, with trembling fingers, he grasps your wet jaw and pours all his thoughts into the line of your lips.

It came out a little something like: I love you

The whiplash is dizzying, like stepping into pounding rain and spinning; spinning, spinning, spinning until it feels like you'll twirl right off the earth. How could you believe that he’d reject you? It was so colossally stupid you almost want to smack yourself in the face—not that Felix would let you, of course.

You gasp at the same moment he sniffles, your synchrony causing him to chuckle, the sound thick with tears. He lays his forehead on yours, a disbelieving smile cracking across his cheeks.

"I'm going to be a dad," he utters, already envisioning all the adventures ahead. Hell, he was practically braiding his baby girl's hair right now. He seems to catch up with this reality because, with a sudden jerk, he has locked his hands underneath your armpits, hauling you into the air. You squeal, clutching his shoulders so tightly your nails dig in; it doesn't faze him—not when his head is tilted back, his smile like the edge of an everlasting sunrise. In that moment, as the bathroom swirls, you know, it was only with him your baby could view their reflection through the shattered glass of a broken cycle; and that is an accomplishment worth celebrating. At last, you begin to laugh.

Once you have begun, you don’t stop—not even when he gently sets you down, giggling as you sway, foggy and disoriented, his hands firmly steadying you by the shoulders. When you find enough balance to walk, you clasp urgent fingers around his wrist, drawing him to the bed. He happily follows. Calves hitting the frame, you fall backward, bouncing onto the mattress. With a dimpled grin, he crawls over your waist, littering kisses all over your face, leaving wet, slobbery marks. Laughter spills out of you uncontrollably, groaning when he licks up your cheek.

"Ewww, Lix, that was gross!" you giggle, wrinkling your nose in faux disgust. All of a sudden, as the overhead lights catch the bands of your eyes, it feels as though his breath has been ripped straight from his lungs—a stunning epiphany dawning on him.

He could reach across every timeline in an infinite multiverse of parallel realities, and yet, he still wouldn’t find a version of himself as in love with you as he is right now.

So, he does something crazy.

"I wanted to wait for the right time to do this," he utters, his face tight with masked emotion. "And I promise, one day I'll buy you something flashier." Your brows furrow, your heart pounding wildly in your chest, about as confused as you are nervous—especially when he slides down the bed, halting to leave a kiss atop the fabric of your covered belly. His nose bumps your stomach when he peers up at you through tear-stained lashes. "But for now, I wanted to ask for your heart with something meaningful—something that means forever."

Every atom buzzes with anticipation when he dips to one knee, digging a finger into his pocket. Finally, he fishes a small velvet box from the confines of his pocket. Your hands fly to your face, shielding a choked sob. "Will you marry me, Y/N L/N? Will you let me love you in every lifetime?" He flips open the lid, and as if you were dipping into the well of time, nestled in the silky cushions was amber sea glass—your amber sea glass. For years, it burned a hole in your pocket, anchoring you to the ground, to earth. Then you met him, and suddenly, you didn’t seem to need it anymore. You evolved, and in time, your little sliver of the sea got lost among the waves of life. You don't ask him where he found it; frankly, you don’t care. You don’t really care about anything except him.

Without a shred of doubt, you exclaim, "Yes! Yes, Felix! Of course, I’ll marry you!" You don't even let him hand you the necklace before you collide with his chest. He grunts as your full body weight slams into him, but he doesn’t mind it—not when you’re busy kissing words onto his freckles, mumbling over and over, "I love you. I love you. I love you." He is so enthralled with the moment that he almost forgets.

"There’s more," he breathes, extracting the box from between your smooshed stomachs—not really sure how it got there, but nevertheless settled atop his folded thighs, he uncurls your fist, sliding the pendant into your palm.

Your hands are cold, holding something so old. You flip the smooth stone.

Time was such a volatile thing; how easily it is broken—for with a simple flick of the wrist, you are caught outside of all existence.

Your lips part, his sucking in your shuddering gasp. Right then, right there, all that existed was the two of you, his hands trailing up your shoulders, the cold snap of gold clasping around your neck. Felix kisses you like he will never be able to again. Your fingers tug at the weight around your neck, almost in awe that you still had it on—that any of this was real.

In every lifetime.

You run your thumb over the inscriptions, golden letters scrawled on the surface of a star. He had plucked his promise straight from the sky. For now, far past his grave, your love will live on, tumbling deep beneath the waves, until his soul finds it and pledges you his heart all over again.

If you liked this please consider telling me i worked really hard on this Thank you! also little side note if I find time I might add an installment because there was supposed to be one more scene before the pregnancy but I got too overwhelmed but that scene gave more of a closing to the readers relationship with her mom sooo maybe more soon lol

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sp4ceboo · 3 days

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CHAPTER 5 ~ VISIONS

beneath a crimson sky masterlist | ch 1 | ch 2 | ch 3 | ch 4 | ch 5

pairing: stray kids ot8 x afab!reader

genre: apocalypse au, dystopian, dark, adventure, action, thriller, fighting, eventual smut, romance

a/n: for someone who's terrified of any sort of horror etc i sure get the urge to write it

chapter warnings: gore, lots of vivdly described disturbing stuff, illness, starvation, hallucinations

chapter word count: 2.5k

Hissing in your ears, the shadows bear you up in their arms, whisking you so high that you thrash in their shackles, screaming for them to let you down.

The whites of their eyes show as they laugh at you.

You sob, trying to grab at the inky chains they’ve fixed around your wrists and ankles, but they turn insubstantial the moment your fingers close around them, dissolving away in curls of cold smoke to reform away from your touch. Grinning faces surround you, multitudes of strange faces you cannot explain: an army assembled to mock you.

In a flash, they are gone. Bony fingers crawl over your face. Flailing, you try to bite down, but another hand clamps over your mouth as the fingers creep upwards, digging into your eye sockets and scooping. Cold envelops you, and you spasm, back arching as sight returns to you.

There’s bloody tears dripping down your face.

You weep.

Below you, a vast crowd stretches, wreathed in flames and lined up in endless rows, so far that you cannot see their ends. Dressed in rags that they treat as finery are a man and a woman, standing at the head of the formation, their faces slack and empty. Their bodies are not theirs to control.

The woman’s blonde hair hangs limp and matted around her face. There’s a glint of something metal at her waist. It’s the hilt of a knife, snug between her ribs, and though blood oozes down her clothes and soaks into her rags, she acts as if it isn’t there. Beside her, the man sways, bronzed skin pallid and coated in a sheen of sweat; he looks not entirely healthy, as if he’d just recovered from an illness.

A figure rides up. Even from so far above, you feel the blaze of his hate. His horse is a steed forged from an inferno, red and fiery, and you catch a glimpse of sharpened iron teeth as its lip curls, tossing its flame weaved mane and pawing at the ground, the air around it undulating with heat. You begin to tremble.

The rider’s face is terrible and beguiling. His flesh drips from his bones, sizzling where it touches the horse's flanks. You are struck through with terror as his eyes find you from where you are suspended in the wine tinted sky; they are deep and endless and full of an ocean of loathing. For a moment, you are drowning in them, and fire tugs at your limbs, ripping your skin off them and gnawing through you until it finds your heart.

A wretched sound leaves you as the rider stretches out his hand and plucks it from your chest. The worst thing is that beneath the fear and the acrid scent of your burning body, there is an unexplainable elation, planted there against your will. It swells in your chest, and you begin to laugh, laugh and laugh and laugh, as the rider brings your heart to his bloody mouth and sinks his teeth in.

Pain explodes through you, and suddenly you are back in the sky. You clutch at the shadows now, pleading for them to keep you away from the rider, pleading for them to make it stop.

Again, they laugh, a chorus of shrieks and cackles, shrill, the sound boring into your head.

Though your limbs are weak with fear, you still find it within you to struggle against them. Wordless, frightened noises leave you, for below, the rider is cradling the face of the woman, close as a lover, and she is transfixed by him. You scream, begging her to pull away, to resist, but a dumb smile crawls over her face and she drops to her knees before the rider. As she falls, he grips the blade in her side and pulls it out. She does not even twitch.

You can only watch in horror as he moves onto the man. He too kneels without a fight.

Pulling the broadsword from where it is slung over his back, the second horseman draws it and rests the flat of it on the woman’s shoulder. For a panic stricken moment, you think he will behead her right there and eviscerate her beside the man, but he doesn’t.

He knights her, then the man next.

The rider gestures at them, and together, they stand, their movements jerky as if pulled on by puppet strings. You cry out when you see their eyes - deep and murky, insidious darkness leaking from their irises into their blood woven sclera.

All semblance of humanity has been erased from them.

They are nothing more than vessels.

Cool hands cup your face.

Moaning, you lean towards them, willing them to stay there and beat back the scorching desert beneath your skin. You can hear voices, but they’re far away. Your breath comes out short and laboured.

It sounds like you’re dying.

The same cool hands ease your jaw open, and water floods your parched tongue. At first, you cough, but you choke it down, so thirsty that you barely pause to breathe. Blearily, you open your eyes, but they don’t make out anything but light and dark blurs.

“She’s drinking, thank god,” the cool hands say.

You frown. It’s Minho’s voice, flat enough that you can’t read the emotions swirling beneath it, but his words sound relieved. You can’t think why Minho would be relieved that you’re alive. The room is slowly swimming into focus, and you spot two smears of black, one a little taller than the other.

A rough palm touches your cheek. “She’s still burning up, though.”

That’s Seungmin. Turning your head, you try to claw your way to lucidity, but it evades you. The cool hands sweep a damp cloth over your forehead as you begin to register his words.

“Burning,” you rasp. “He’ll make them burn everything down.”

Minho pauses, opening his mouth. The shadows sink their teeth into you before you can hear what he says.

This time, they leave you under a reddened night sky devoid of stars. No shackles bind you, but you can sense them slinking in the corners of your vision and where you cannot see, waiting to pounce. Turning in a circle, you scan the darkness, searching for the next horror that awaits you.

The sound of horse hooves rings out. You whirl around, trying to find their source, trying to ignore the tittering of the shadows as they mock you with their derisive faces.

You blink, and then the third horseman is there before you.

She sits astride a horse so black that it had blended into the circle of shadows as it approached. It is glossy and healthy looking, yet it froths at the mouth, snapping its teeth at you. The rider places a soft hand on its flank, and it calms. She smiles at you, saccharine, and it incites so much comfort inside you that you know it’s a lie.

Her extrasolar face is cold and so beautiful it cuts you, her lacy hair like cobwebs where it hangs around her face. It drapes, dripping, over her shoulders - a veil.

There’s blood on your tongue.

You take a step back, and the gentle look on her face turns ugly. Holding up her hand, a pair of scales appears between her fingers, and she places a delicate feather, white as a lamb, in the first dish.

Though there’s nothing in the second dish, the moment she releases the feather, it hurtles downwards - the scales shriek shrilly as they move, and you watch in horror as the feather begins to bleed until it is soaked red. The rider turns to you, and now there is nothing comforting about her sharpened smile. Heart pounding, you back away, but the shadows push you back towards her, and what you believe must certainly be your doom.

She raises her hand and points at you.

Immediately, you collapse, your stomach cramping. You are filled with a sudden craving, a hunger so vast you cannot think; you merely scrabble at the floor, tremors wracking your body as you cry out, needing to fill the yawning cavern inside you. It erodes you from the inside out, so acute it burns like vile acid.

Wailing, you claw your way forward until your vision is filled with the hooves of her horse. You are weak with hunger, so weak that it is a battle to raise your head and look up at her, your mouth hanging open to plead for her to release you from the pain. No sound comes out.

Caressing the horse’s mane, she leans forward and whispers into its velvety ear. You quake as you look up at her, wondering what she said, wondering if she will take mercy on you and knowing she will not.

Whinnying, the horse rears, and you scream as its hooves slam down and punch right through your ribcage.

The combined agony radiating from your crushed torso and the gaping hunger in your stomach paralyses you, locking your muscles so tight it hurts. Your body begins to spasm, and your teeth close around your tongue. Panic spears through you as you begin to choke on your own blood.

Your skin tears, your bones cracking and popping and rearranging within you. You’re aware of protrusions pushing their way out of your back and down your arms, burrowing through your muscles and forcing them to reform around them. When you look up, the rider has dismounted her horse.

Tenderly, she touches your lips.

As if it has its own will, your body bends like a tree in a gale, and she kisses your forehead, her scarlet mouth terrible and searing against your skin, yet upon its touch, the pain in your ribs recedes, reforming you into something new.

The hunger roiling and snapping like a beast within only sharpens its claws.

“Go,” she murmurs. “Slaughter awaits.”

The world shakes with how hard you’re shivering, yet you can’t help but kick off your blankets. Someone secures them more tightly around them and you lash out, but your arms are weak and all it does is flop your hand against their leg. A voice floats down from somewhere in the sky.

“You need to eat.”

“Chan?” You groan, words slurred as strong hands ease you upright. “Changbin?”

“We’re here,” one of them says, although you’re not sure which one.

A spoon is pressed against your lips, and you hold back a cough long enough to swallow - they’ve mashed food so it’s liquid, easier for you to get down and keep down. Your head spins, the faces before you blurring. You realise Jisung is also with them, crouched beside Changbin, his face pale as he watches you.

“What did you mean before, about slaughter?”

Another face swims into view. Jeongin. You stare at him, bewildered both by his question and why he is bobbing up and down in front of you like a rubber duck caught in the crashing waves of the sea.

“I - I don’t remember,” you mumble.

Chan puts his hand on Jeongin’s shoulder. “It’s fine. She’ll tell us when she’s better.”

He says it like it’s final, like he’s sure that you will get through it, like there’s no other option. You want to believe him.

The shadows craft you a leash out of the ephemeral material that clothes them. Laughing, always laughing, they secure it around your neck, so tight that only strained gasps of air make it out of you, and drag you along with them, letting your body get broken and battered by the rocks in their path. Mud chokes your lungs, settling heavy in your chest when you inhale it, and fragments of rubbish and twigs tangle into your hair.

They’re bringing you to someone.

You begin to kick and struggle then, tearing at the leash, but it sinks deeper into your flesh, and your own torn nails leave gashes in your skin. As normal, your screams fall on deaf ears, and you writhe, knowing that who they’re taking you to will be far worse than the previous you’ve seen.

The collar of shadow rings tighter around your neck. Tighter and tighter and tighter until an abyss gapes open below you, and you fall right through, and this time even the shadows forsake you, letting you descend into the blackness as they recede from your vision. Somehow, it brings you no comfort, for they too fear he who has summoned you.

Your bones crunch and snap as you land; it is certain that the fall has ended you, and now your soul is trapped in the cage of your broken ribs, fluttering and trying to shake itself free. You cannot move. You cannot flee.

A pale horse walks towards you, yet its hooves make no noise. Fearful, you raise your eyes to see its rider.

He too is pale, and wreathed in a colourless cloak that casts a shadow over his face, yet you can see his skeletal features, motionless and terribly still within his cowl. The arc of the scythe in his fingers winks at you, even in the dark, and he uses the end of it to hook you and drag you from your body. Your bones clatter as your essence leaves them.

Death holds you in the palm of his hand, and you are captivated by the darkness within his hood. You know that this is the moment that your life rests upon.

“I have come to reap,” he says, with a voice like the slam of nails into a coffin lid. “Yet your time is not up yet.”

Again, you are falling.

There’s someone talking to you. You can see his face, see his lips moving, but you don’t understand a word he’s saying.

You don’t remember his name, nor the name of the one beside him, but you know who they are: there’s the blonde angel, his eyes earnest and worried as they search your slack face, and the dark haired prince, his handsome face etched in fear as he wipes your brow with a damp cloth.

The angel clasps your hands in his small ones, and this time, his words are audible, drifting down to you as if he talks to you from the top of a canyon while you’re tied to the bottom of the gorge, straining to hear his words. You fight to pick them out from the whisperings of the shadows, the freckles on his face swirling like constellations.

“Fight it,” he says, squeezing your fingers. “Fight just a little longer.”

You want to. You want to fight it, but the shadows creep closer, tugging at your limbs, and suddenly you’re just their puppet, them the cruel puppeteers.

You watch in horror as your own hands rear up like snakes and claw at the angel’s face.

taglist: @estella-novella@0bticeo@lixies-favorite-cookie@smashleywow@realrintaro @extremechaoswarning @4l17h4 @hyunjinsjeans @insufferablyunbearable @lovemepie67 @needsumcomfypillowstosleep @loumin908 (let me know if you want to be added)

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fushizhuo · 1 day

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Synopsis: You're the youngest member of SKZ and the younger brother of Bang Chan. However, you're sick. And your parents sent you to the US to get treatment. But, they couldn't treat your disease. No matter how hard they tried. So as a final goodbye, you sang a song for your hyungs and your fans.

Genre — Angst.

Warnings — Death

Pairing — M! Reader x SKZ (platonic)

AN note — Transferring my wattpad works over to Tumblr, I made this when I was 12 don't judge 🤞🏻

WC — 4.8k

The arena hums with quiet anticipation, the energy heavy with sadness. Stray Kids are on stage, but the usual vibrant atmosphere is missing. Eight members stand in a row, their faces somber. The space next to them is empty—the place where you always stood.

Chan steps forward, his hands gripping the microphone tightly, his voice trembling as he addresses the crowd. “STAYs, tonight is… different,” he starts, his eyes flicking back to the members, all barely holding back their emotions. “Our member, y/n, couldn’t be with us tonight. But he left us something. A message for all of you.”

The crowd stirs, sensing the gravity of the moment. Then, the massive screen behind the group flickers on, and there you are, sitting in a chair, pale but smiling gently at the camera. You look weaker than ever, but you’re trying to be strong, for them, for the fans.

“Hello, STAYs,” you begin, your voice soft, yet steady. “I’m sorry I couldn’t be there tonight with my brothers. The truth is… I’m sick. Really sick.”

The arena falls into a deafening silence. Even though rumors had been swirling for weeks, hearing you confirm it feels like a punch to the gut for everyone present.

“I’ve been fighting this for a while,” you continue, a sad smile tugging at your lips, “but it’s gotten worse. And… I don’t think I’m going to survive this.”

The weight of your words sinks deep into the hearts of the fans, many of whom have already started to cry. The members on stage are barely holding it together. Felix wipes at his eyes, his face twisted in sorrow, tears falling down uncontrollably with I.N comforting him, while Hyunjin clenches his fists, his shoulders trembling.

You pause for a moment, as if gathering the strength to go on. “I’m sorry I couldn’t sing live with you tonight. But I wanted to say goodbye properly, the only way I know how—through a song. This is my final song, and I want to dedicate it to all of you.”

The camera zooms in slightly as you take a deep breath. “STAYs, thank you. You made me braver than I’ve ever been. Every moment on stage, every song, every smile—I did it because of you.”

You look down for a second, composing yourself, before looking back up at the camera, your eyes brimming with tears. “To my hyungs, thank you for taking care of me. You’re my family, and you’ll always be my home.”

With that, you reach for your guitar and start strumming the familiar opening chords of Castle on the Hill. The stadium quiets, listening intently, as your voice fills the arena.

"When I was six years old, I broke my leg,

I was running from my brother and his friends."

The soft, nostalgic melody washes over the crowd, each note filled with bittersweet memories. The camera flashes between you, playing your final song, and old clips of Stray Kids—the early days when you were all just starting out, moments in the dorms, behind-the-scenes laughter.

"And I miss the way

You make me feel,

And it’s real."

Your voice trembles slightly, but you keep going, pouring everything you have left into this performance. The members on stage are frozen in place, their eyes locked on the screen as you sing about the good times, about the innocence of youth, and about home.

"When we watched the sunset

Over the castle on the hill…"

The song continues, each lyric hitting harder than the last, and the fans can barely contain their sobs. You sing not just for them, but for your hyungs too, for the family you’re leaving behind.

"One friend left to sell clothes,

One works down by the coast,

One had two kids but lives alone,

One’s brother overdosed,

One’s already on his second wife,

One’s just barely getting by."

As you sing these lines, the camera flashes again to moments from the members’ lives—Chan struggling as a leader, Lee Know dancing through exhaustion, Han and Changbin composing until the early morning, Seungmin’s late-night vocal practices, Hyunjin’s quiet moments of self-reflection, Felix’s smile breaking even through the toughest days.

"But these people raised me,

And I can't wait to go home."

Your voice catches on the word home, and it’s clear that you’re thinking of the members—your brothers who stood by you through it all. The camera shows clips of all eight of you together, laughing, crying, working, living.

"And I'm on my way,

I still remember these old country lanes,

When we did not know the answers."

The music swells, and the arena is filled with your voice, with memories, with everything you’ve been through together. The fans, the members, everyone is united in the sadness of your goodbye.

"And I miss the way

You make me feel,

And it’s real,

When we watched the sunset over the castle on the hill,

Over the castle on the hill,

Over the castle on the hill."

As the final chorus fades, the screen cuts back to you. Your guitar falls silent, and you look into the camera one last time, tears filling your eyes but a soft smile still on your lips.

“Thank you, STAYs. You made me feel alive. You made me brave. I love you all so much.”

Your final words are barely above a whisper. “I’ll be home soon.”

The screen goes dark. For a few moments, the arena is completely still. No one moves. No one speaks. It’s as though the world itself is holding its breath, not wanting to acknowledge what just happened.

Then, the sobs start—quiet at first, then louder, until the entire stadium is filled with the sound of heartbreak. The members on stage are in tears, clutching onto each other for support. Chan tries to speak, but no words come out. He steps forward, wiping his face, and finally manages to say, “Thank you, y/n. We love you.”

The concert ends not with an encore, not with cheers, but with the weight of your goodbye hanging in the air. STAYs leave the arena with heavy hearts, each one carrying a piece of you with them, your voice still echoing in their minds, the final notes of Castle on the Hill playing over and over.

You never made it back. But in that final moment, you felt at home.

#✦fushisworks #✦fushi #skz x you #skz x reader #skz x y/n #skz x 9th member #stray kids #stray kids x male reader #stray kids x reader #stray kids x you #platonic

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estellan0vella · 2 days

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Real Victors: B.C Bang Chan x fem!reader (College AU)

WC: 13.3K

CW: Mentions of previous toxic behaviour (from an ex best friend), past abusive behaviour (from an ex best friend), assault (a wrist grab) (from an ex best friend), lots of fluff, awkward, simp Chan

General Masterlist SKZ Masterlist

It's one of those perfect summer days—the kind where the sun sits just right in the sky, casting a warm golden glow over everything. You're perched on the bottom of the bleachers like usual, legs crossed beneath you as you lean against the cool metal railing. Your white summer dress flutters slightly in the breeze, barely reaching mid-thigh. It's airy, comfortable, and pairs well with the hotpants you've slipped on underneath for modesty. You've opted for a casual look today, strappy white wedges on your feet and your signature dangly butterfly earrings swaying gently as you suck on a cherry lollipop.

The cherry flavour stains your lips red as you absentmindedly flip through one of your favourite books, The Book Thief. It's your go-to read when you want to escape into a story that makes you feel a little bit of everything—sadness, hope, love, and pain. You've read it a dozen times by now, but somehow, every time you open its pages, it feels like the first time. Right now, you're lost in the words, only half aware of the distant sounds of shouting and whistles from the football field.

The Miroh Maniacs are practicing again. They always practice during this time of the day, and like clockwork, you've found yourself in your usual spot at the bottom of the bleachers, soaking up the atmosphere while the guys run their drills. It's not that you care much for football itself; honestly, you couldn't be bothered to figure out the rules. But Felix and Jisung are your closest friends, and since they're on the team, you come to watch them as much as you come to enjoy the time you spend alone with your books.

Felix and Jisung are currently stretching near the field, warming up before practice. Jisung's blonde-green hair is tousled from his constant fidgeting, while Felix's sunny smile never falters, even when he's doing something as mundane as touching his toes. You watch them from the corner of your eye, a faint smile tugging at your lips.

"You gonna sit there all day, Y/N?" Felix calls out, his Australian accent laced with mischief. He stands up from his stretch and gives you a wave, his blonde hair catching the sunlight. Jisung follows his gaze and waves too, though his expression is far more playful.

"Just keeping an eye on you two," you tease back, lowering your book slightly. "Wouldn't want you both slacking off while everyone else is running laps."

"Slacking off?" Jisung exclaims, feigning offence. "I'll have you know, I'm the most hardworking player on this field."

Felix snorts and elbows him. "Bullshit. You nap on the bench more than you run."

Jisung shrugs. "Gotta preserve my energy for when it counts."

You chuckle softly and shake your head, returning to your book as they continue their playful bickering. It's a routine by now—Felix and Jisung always find a way to chat with you before practice, and it's become one of the highlights of your day. They bring a sort of lightheartedness that makes everything feel a little less serious, a little more fun.

As you flip another page, you hear the sound of the locker room door swinging open. From your vantage point, you catch a glimpse of Chan, Minho, and Changbin walking out onto the field. They're all decked out in the Miroh Maniacs' black and red uniforms, the bold colours contrasting sharply against the green grass. Chan is at the front, as usual, his short black hair slicked back slightly, though a few strands always fall loose onto his forehead.

But there's something else about him that you can't quite put your finger on. Maybe it's the way he carries himself, or the way he looks at you sometimes when he thinks you're not paying attention. You don't dwell on it too much; it's just part of the strange dynamic between you and the guys on the team.

You lift your hand and wiggle your fingers in greeting as they walk out, your lips curving into a small, lazy smile. "Hey, boys."

Chan's eyes lock onto you the moment you gesture. His easygoing stride falters for just a second, and he sucks in a sharp breath, his cheeks flushing slightly as he tries to keep his composure. You catch it all in your peripheral vision, but you don't comment, assuming it's just Chan being his usual awkward self. That is until he starts coughing like he's choking on air.

Minho, who's walking beside him, doesn't even try to hide his amusement. He slaps Chan's back a few times, shaking his head with a sigh. "Chan, for fuck's sake, you're an embarrassment to us all."

Changbin snickers beside them, crossing his arms over his chest. "Man, get a grip. You're gonna die before practice even starts."

Chan glances at you briefly, his face turning redder by the second. You frown in concern, your body instinctively pushing off the railing as you stand and walk over to where the three of them are standing. The grass feels warm beneath your feet, and you lean slightly against the fence that separates the bleachers from the field, looking down at Chan with a furrowed brow.

"Chan, are you okay?" you ask, your voice soft but filled with genuine worry. You tilt your head, red heart-shaped sunglasses slipping down your nose a little as you peer at him.

Chan, still struggling to get his breathing under control, just stares at you. The sight of you standing there, your white dress fluttering in the breeze, your lips forming his name, has completely short-circuited his brain.

You turn to Changbin, hoping for some clarification. "Is he...?"

Changbin smirks, glancing at Chan before turning back to you. "Oh, he's fine. Just hasn't been drinking enough water, so his brain's a bit fried."

You sigh and cross your arms over your chest. "Chan, you know you should drink more water, right? It's like, basic human survival."

Chan finally manages to nod, though his gaze still lingers on you. "Yeah, um, I'll—I'll do that."

"Good." You give him a small, approving smile before turning back toward Felix and Jisung, who have been watching the whole scene unfold with barely contained laughter.

Minho raises an eyebrow as he watches Chan's stunned reaction. "I swear to God, Chan, if you swoon because the pretty lit student smiled at you, I'm going to kill you."

Chan shoots him a half-hearted glare, still struggling to shake off the embarrassment. "Shut up, Minho."

You catch the tail end of their conversation but decide not to press further. It's Minho being Minho, and he's always teasing someone. With a final glance at the trio, you settle back down at the bleachers, picking up your book where you left off.

As you start reading again, Felix and Jisung jog over during their warm-up break and flop down next to you, both of them drenched in the early sweat of exertion.

"Still reading that same damn book, huh?" Jisung asks, reaching for your lollipop without warning. You smack his hand away with a mock glare.

"Hands off my lollipop, Ji. And yes, The Book Thief is a masterpiece. Don't act like you're not impressed."

Felix leans back, resting his hands behind his head as he watches the players on the field. "I swear, Y/N, you've read that book more times than I've touched a football."

You grin, turning the page lazily. "It's that good."

"Or you just don't wanna admit you're obsessed," Felix teases, nudging your arm lightly.

"I'll admit it. I'm obsessed. But it's a healthy obsession. Unlike whatever it is you two are doing out there with all this... football stuff." You wave a hand vaguely toward the field.

Jisung snorts. "Hey, this 'football stuff' is keeping me in shape, okay? Not all of us can sit on our asses reading books all day."

You raise an eyebrow. "You call lying on the bench napping 'keeping in shape'?"

Felix bursts out laughing, and Jisung pouts, crossing his arms. "I don't nap that much."

"You literally napped for the entire second half of last week's game," Felix points out, still chuckling.

Jisung waves him off. "Whatever. I'm just preserving my energy."

"You keep telling yourself that," you say with a smirk, returning your attention to your book. But the conversation doesn't end there, and the three of you fall into an easy rhythm, bantering back and forth like always.

Meanwhile, on the field, Chan can't seem to keep his eyes off you. It's like every time he tries to focus on the drills, his gaze drifts back to where you're sitting with Felix and Jisung, your head tilted slightly as you laugh at something one of them said. He doesn't even realize how obvious he's being until Minho elbows him in the ribs during a pass.

"Dude, pay attention," Minho mutters under his breath. "You're gonna get tackled if you keep staring like that."

Chan quickly averts his eyes, pretending to be interested in whatever play they're running next. "I wasn't staring."

"Bullshit," Minho snorts, adjusting his jersey. "You've been eye-fucking her for the past ten minutes. Everyone on the field can see it."

Chan shoots him a withering look. "Can you not?"

Changbin sidles up next to them, wiping sweat from his forehead. "Oh, get in line, Chan. Half the college is after her. She's the definition of hot girl summer."

Chan tries to play it cool, shrugging as if the comment doesn't bother him. "I'm not... I mean, it's not like that."

Minho rolls his eyes, clearly unconvinced. "Right. And I'm not the best player on the team."

Changbin snickers. "You wish."

Despite his teammates' teasing, Chan can't help but steal another glance at you. The way your dress hugs your body, the way your hair catches in the wind, and the way you smile at Felix and Jisung so effortlessly makes his chest tighten. But he knows better than to entertain any fantasies. You're friends with most of the guys, and even if you were interested in someone, it probably wouldn't be him. Not when you're already so close to Felix and Jisung.

Still, he can't shake the feeling that there's something special about you. Something that makes his heart race a little faster every time you're around.

Later, during one of their short breaks, Minho makes his way over to you, dripping sweat and looking every bit as smug as he always does. You barely notice him at first, too engrossed in your book, but then you feel the familiar tug of something being pulled from your mouth.

"Hey!" you protest, looking up just in time to see Minho steal the lollipop from between your lips. He smirks at you, twirling it between his fingers before popping it into his mouth without a second thought.

You roll your eyes, completely unbothered by the gesture. "That's the closest you'll ever get to kissing me, Lee Minho."

Minho laughs and pulls the lollipop back out, licking his lips exaggeratedly. "I'll savour all of those kisses forever, my sweet Y/N."

You snort and wave him off. "Okay, loverboy, get lost. You stink of sweat."

Minho leans closer, grinning wickedly. "And you smell like cherries and flowers."

You shrug nonchalantly. "Bought myself a new perfume."

His grin widens. "That perfume is turning me on."

You meet his gaze with a deadpan expression. "Yeah, well, your smell is turning me off. Not that you've ever turned me on."

Minho clutches his chest dramatically as if you've wounded him. "Ouch. Straight to the heart."

Despite his theatrics, you smile fondly and nudge him with your foot. "Go practice, Minho. You're wasting time."

"Fine, fine." He sticks the lollipop back in your mouth before jogging off with a cheeky wave. "I'll be thinking of you."

You roll your eyes again, sucking on the now half-melted candy. It's always like this with Minho, flirty, playful, but ultimately harmless. Everyone on the team knows it's all platonic between the two of you. You'd never date Minho, and he knows it, which makes the banter even more fun.

Felix and Jisung, having witnessed the whole exchange, burst into laughter as soon as Minho is out of earshot.

"You two are so weird," Felix comments, shaking his head.

Jisung grins. "Yeah, but it's entertaining as hell."

You shrug, leaning back against the bleachers with a satisfied smile. "He's just jealous because I'm too good for him."

Felix laughs, pulling a water bottle from his bag. "If you say so."

Jisung nudges you with his elbow, a wide grin spread across his face. "You and Minho really have the weirdest relationship. I swear he flirts with you more than anyone else, and it's completely pointless."

You shrug, leaning back against the bleachers, still sucking on the lollipop Minho had placed back into your mouth. "He's just mad because he knows he doesn't stand a chance. That, and he's jealous that I'm smarter than him."

Felix raises an eyebrow, his lips curling up in a smirk. "Smarter? Or more stubborn?"

"Both," you reply with a wink before settling into your book once again.

Before the conversation can go any further, Chan's voice cuts through the air, calling the team back to the field. "Alright, break's over! Get your asses moving!"

The guys all groan in unison, but they comply, hauling themselves off the bleachers and jogging back toward the centre of the field. You watch them go, the familiar sounds of shuffling cleats and shouted encouragements filling the air. You prop your feet up on the lower seat in front of you, feeling the metal beneath your heels as you let yourself sink into the world of The Book Thief once again.

The field is loud with the sounds of practice—shouted commands, whistles, and the occasional thud of bodies colliding as they run drills. But none of it distracts you as you turn the page, eyes skimming over familiar words. Your world narrows down to the story in front of you, the heat of the summer sun on your skin, and the rhythmic thump of footballs in the background.

Still, even through the haze of the book, you can feel someone's eyes on you. You glance up from the pages every now and then, catching glimpses of Chan sneaking looks your way between plays. It's subtle, the way his eyes flicker to the bleachers when he thinks no one's watching. But it's not subtle enough to escape your notice. You don't say anything about it, though. It's just Chan being Chan—awkward but sweet, always looking out for you in his quiet way.

You shift in your seat, adjusting the heart-shaped sunglasses on your nose as you get lost in the story again, completely unaware of the tension building on the field.

Then, out of the corner of your eye, you notice someone approaching the bleachers. At first, you don't think much of it, assuming it's just another student passing by. But when the figure gets closer, you recognize him immediately, and your stomach twists.

Aaron.

The sight of him makes your blood run cold, and a wave of anger surges through you before you even realize what's happening. He doesn't have the right to be here—not after everything. Not after the way he treated you. Your ex-best friend, now a ghost from your past, a haunting presence you've been trying to shake off for months. And here he is, showing up uninvited, acting like nothing has changed.

You slam the book shut, the sound of it snapping closed louder than you intended. Aaron's eyes lock onto you as he climbs the bleachers, his lips curling into a smirk that makes your skin crawl.

"Y/N," he says, his voice dripping with fake charm. "It's been a while."

Your jaw clenches, fingers tightening around the book in your lap. "What the hell are you doing here, Aaron?"

He shrugs casually as if he has every right to be standing in front of you. "Just thought I'd stop by and say hi. You haven't been answering my messages."

"That's because I don't want to talk to you," you snap, rising to your feet, your heart pounding in your chest. "We have nothing to say to each other."

He steps closer, his eyes narrowing slightly. "Don't be like that. We used to be friends."

"Used to be," you emphasize, your voice cold. "That's the key phrase here. We're not friends anymore."

Across the field, Chan notices the tension between you and the guy on the bleachers. He's too far to hear what's being said, but he can tell from your body language that something's off. His brow furrows as he watches you stand up, arms crossed over your chest, facing the guy with obvious hostility.

"Who's that?" Minho asks, following Chan's gaze.

Chan shakes his head slightly. "I don't know... but it doesn't look good."

The rest of the team starts noticing too, their attention momentarily diverted from practice as they watch you argue with the guy on the bleachers. From their distance, they can't hear anything, but they don't need to. Your posture says it all—tense, defensive, and angry.

Then, suddenly, Aaron grabs your wrist.

The entire team freezes, watching in shock as you yank your hand away from his grasp with a furious glare. Before anyone can react, you swing your book, hitting him across the face with a loud crack. The force of it sends him stumbling back a step, and you see the anger flare in his eyes.

Changbin whistles lowly, muttering under his breath, "Who the fuck is that?"

Felix's face tightens with worry, his jaw clenched as he exchanges a glance with Jisung. "That's Aaron... her ex-best friend."

Jisung's face twists in disgust. "He's a fucking asshole. Should've been put down ages ago."

Minho turns to Felix and Jisung, his eyes narrowing. "What the hell's his deal?"

Felix exhales sharply, scratching the back of his neck. "Best friend turned stalker. He's lucky we didn't kill him."

The rest of the guys look at Felix in surprise, and Changbin raises an eyebrow. "Wait, what? You never said anything."

Felix looks at the ground, his voice quiet but firm. "It wasn't our place to say anything. She went through some serious shit, and we were just there to help."

Jisung nods, his expression dark. "One night, she called me. Locked herself in the bathroom. I could hear him threatening her, saying he was gonna kill her. When Felix and I got to her apartment, he was trying to kick down the door... with a knife in hand."

The silence that follows is heavy, and the rest of the guys exchange looks of disbelief.

Felix glances up, his face set in a grim expression. "Twelve years of Taekwondo came in pretty handy that day."

Minho's eyes darken with understanding, and he clenches his fists, looking back at you on the bleachers. "So this guy's a fucking psycho?"

Felix nods. "Pretty much."

The team watches closely as the confrontation between you and Aaron escalates. You can't hear what he's saying, but from the way his lips are moving, it's obvious he's trying to provoke you. The tension in the air is palpable as the guy steps forward again, getting in your face.

Then, in one swift motion, you punch him square in the nose.

The satisfying sound of bone crunching fills the air as Aaron stumbles back, clutching his bleeding nose in shock. The team collectively holds their breath for a second before Changbin breaks the silence with a loud whoop.

"Beat his ass, Y/N!" Changbin yells, pumping his fist in the air.

Jeongin joins in, laughing as he cups his hands around his mouth. "Hit him with the book again!"

Seungmin, usually the most reserved, can't help but shout, "Kick him in the balls!"

Hyunjin, ever the drama queen, throws his hands up. "Make his face even uglier!"

You don't need their encouragement. You're already seething with rage, your hand still stinging from the punch as you glare down at Aaron, who's now crouched slightly, blood dripping from his nose.

But then Minho narrows his eyes, his gaze fixed on Aaron's movements. He leans closer to Chan and mutters quietly, "He's not backing down."

Chan's jaw tightens, his eyes locked on you and the way Aaron seems to be moving closer again despite the blood and the pain. "You think he's gonna hurt her? Here?"

Minho nods, his expression hard. "He looks like he's about to do something stupid."

Without another word, Chan signals to the rest of the team, and they all start moving toward the bleachers. The air feels heavy with anticipation, every step bringing them closer as the situation becomes more dangerous by the second.

Aaron, oblivious to the approaching football players, raises his hand as if to strike you. But before he can make contact, a strong hand grabs his wrist mid-air, twisting it behind his back with practised ease.

Aaron yelps in pain, his face contorting as Chan steps in front of him, a grin tugging at his lips. "I wouldn't do that if I were you."

You blink, surprised but also oddly relieved as Chan appears out of nowhere, his grip on Aaron's wrist firm. The football team gathers around, forming an intimidating circle around Aaron, their faces set in stone. You slide your sunglasses down your nose, making eye contact with Chan, who still has that cocky grin on his face.

"Thanks," you say, breathless but composed. "Never thought I'd need a sweaty hero in cleats and shoulder pads, but... it's not all bad."

Chan chuckles, his eyes glinting with amusement. "How about you let me take you to dinner tonight?"

You raise an eyebrow, glancing at Aaron, who's still squirming in Chan's grip. "As you can see, I have a bit of... baggage."

Chan shrugs nonchalantly, twisting Aaron's arm a little more until he yelps again. "As you can see, I can handle baggage." He releases Aaron with a swift shove, then kicks him lightly in the ass, sending him stumbling forward.

Aaron, humiliated and defeated, glares at you before storming off, blood still dripping from his nose. You watch him go, a mix of relief and adrenaline pumping through your veins.

Once he's out of sight, you turn back to Chan, a playful smirk on your lips. "In that case... dinner sounds great."

Chan grins at you, his eyes still gleaming with amusement from the adrenaline of the situation. "Practice is over in ten. I'll shower and then we can go out for dinner."

You cross your arms, a playful smile tugging at the corner of your lips. "You better not smell of sweat or this whole thing is cancelled."

He chuckles, running a hand through his sweaty hair. "I'll smell as fresh as a daisy, I swear."

You point at him, your expression dead serious despite the humour in your tone. "Your body wash better not be tea tree. That shit is fucking gross."

Chan laughs, a deep, carefree sound that makes your stomach flutter for reasons you don't want to admit to yourself just yet. "Noted. No tea tree. I'll pick something extra nice just for you."

"Good," you say, giving him a mock stern look before smiling. "I'll be waiting."

He jogs back onto the field, shouting commands to his team while you settle back into the bleachers, watching as they finish their drills. The tension of your confrontation with Aaron still lingers in your muscles, but the promise of dinner with Chan is enough to pull you out of that dark cloud. It's been a long time since you've felt excited about something like this.

True to his word, Chan wraps up practice in ten minutes, blowing the whistle to signal the end. The team groans, some stretching, others jogging in place, but they seem relieved. You spot Felix and Jisung laughing about something, both of them glancing over at you as Chan disappears into the locker room.

A few minutes later, Chan emerges, his wet hair slicked back, freshly showered and dressed in black cargo trousers and a black long-sleeved compression top that clings to his chest and arms in a way that doesn't go unnoticed. He glances around, scanning the field before his eyes land on you, sitting on the bleachers with your legs crossed, still sucking on what's left of the cherry lollipop from earlier.

Before he can say anything, Jisung shouts from the field, "Have her home by ten, Bang Chan!"

Felix jumps in, smirking as he cups his hands around his mouth. "Bring her back to the frat with you later because we're gonna gossip!"

Chan raises an eyebrow and shakes his head, walking toward you. "I will bring her back after the date," he says, loud enough for them to hear.

But Jisung, ever the loudmouth, shouts back, "Ten! Do you hear me? Ten, Bang Chan! I expect her delivered to Felix's room with a smile on her face!"

You roll your eyes and let out an exasperated laugh. "They're such children."

Chan reaches you, his lips curling into a smirk. "Ignore them. They're just jealous."

Chan wraps his arm around your shoulders, pulling you closer to his side as you both start walking toward the parking lot. His arm is warm and solid, and you lean into him, feeling a sense of comfort that you didn't expect. It's odd how natural it feels like this has been something building between the two of you for longer than either of you realized.

"So," Chan starts, his voice casual but curious, "you've been reading The Book Thief for what feels like the thousandth time. I think I've seen you with that book more than I've seen you without it."

You can't help but laugh at his observation. "It's literally my favourite book ever. And trust me, that's saying something. My apartment is basically a library. I have bookshelves in my living room that go wall to wall."

Chan's eyebrows raise in surprise, and he gives you a sideways glance. "Wall to wall bookshelves? Damn. I think the only books I've read are Harry Potter and The Hunger Games."

You gasp dramatically, pressing a hand to your chest in mock offence. "I can't believe you just confessed that to a literature major. It's like you've committed a cardinal sin."

He chuckles, shrugging as if it's no big deal, but the grin on his face shows that he's enjoying this little back-and-forth. "I mean, it's true! I've never been much of a reader, but I guess you could always try and convert me."

You roll your eyes, still smiling. "Maybe I will. But it's gonna take more than just Harry Potter and The Hunger Games to impress me."

"I'll take that as a challenge," he says with a wink, his arm squeezing your shoulder slightly as you both approach his car. Chan walks ahead a few steps and opens the passenger door for you, his grin widening when he sees the surprise on your face.

"Wow, a gentleman," you tease, sliding into the passenger seat. The car is nice—clean, with that subtle scent of vanilla air freshener lingering in the air.

Chan moves around to the driver's side, sliding into the seat next to you and starting the engine. "Well, I had to impress you somehow. Thought opening doors was a good start."

"Points for effort," you say, settling back into the seat and clicking your seatbelt into place. "So, where are we going, Captain?"

"There's this fifties-style diner about half an hour away," he explains as he pulls out of the parking lot. "They do this amazing cherry and white chocolate shake. It's kinda their speciality."

You raise an eyebrow, intrigued. "You really know how to win a girl's heart, don't you?"

He glances over at you briefly, grinning. "I try."

The drive is easy, the sky gradually shifting from a soft orange to deep shades of pink and purple as the sun starts to set. The radio hums quietly in the background, playing some old indie rock song you vaguely recognize, but most of your attention is on Chan.

The conversation flows effortlessly, as it always does with him. You talk about the team, about practice, and even about the antics of Felix and Jisung—who, of course, keep Chan on his toes both on and off the field.

After about thirty minutes, you finally arrive at the diner. It's straight out of the fifties with bright neon lights, red vinyl booths, and a giant jukebox in the corner playing classic hits. You've seen places like this in movies but never actually been to one.

"This place is perfect," you say as you slide out of the car, taking in the retro charm.

Chan walks beside you, a proud grin on his face. "I knew you'd like it. Wait until you try the food."

Once inside, the two of you decide to get your meals to go, opting to enjoy the rest of the evening somewhere a little quieter. You order a steak salad with a cherry and white chocolate milkshake and Chan orders a burger and fries, sticking with something classic.

As you wait for the food, Chan leans back against the counter, glancing at you with a mischievous smile. "So, steak salad, huh? I pegged you as more of a burger and fries girl."

You smirk, rolling your eyes. "Just because I'm friends with Felix and Jisung doesn't mean I have the same terrible eating habits as them."

"Oh, trust me, I know. Jisung's diet is 80% ramen and Red Bull."

"And Felix eats like... five different kinds of fried chicken in a single sitting," you add with a laugh. "I swear, that boy has a death wish."

The food arrives quickly, and with the bags in hand, you both head back to the car. Chan drives for another twenty minutes, taking a winding road that leads up to a hilltop just outside of town. The view is stunning, especially with the last sliver of the sunset dipping below the horizon, painting the sky in hues of pink, orange, and deep indigo.

Chan parks the car at the top of the hill, and the two of you hop out, climbing onto the hood to sit and eat. You settle in, opening your salad container and taking a bite as the cool evening breeze brushes against your skin.

"This is perfect," you murmur, looking out at the vast expanse of sky and the twinkling city lights below.

Chan nods in agreement, sipping his milkshake before glancing over at you. "So, tell me—what's so special about The Book Thief? I mean, I've seen you read it like a hundred times, but I've never asked you why you love it so much."

Your face lights up at the question, excitement bubbling in your chest as you set your salad aside for a moment. "Oh, where do I even start?"

He smiles, clearly enjoying your enthusiasm. "I'm listening."

You take a deep breath, thinking of the best way to explain it. "Well, The Book Thief is set in Nazi Germany during World War II, and it's narrated by Death, which is already such a unique perspective, right? The main character, Liesel, she's this young girl who loses everything, but she finds comfort in words, in books. The story is about how she uses books to survive, to make sense of a world that's falling apart around her."

Chan nods, listening intently as you continue, your voice growing more passionate.

"It's not just about the war or the books, though. It's about humanity. About kindness in the face of evil, about love and loss, and the way we find hope in the darkest times. The way it's written, it just... it makes you feel everything. You can't help but get attached to the characters, even though you know from the start that things aren't going to end well."

He raises an eyebrow. "So it's one of those books that breaks your heart?"

You laugh softly, nodding. "Pretty much. But it's worth it. Every time I read it, I find something new, something that hits me differently. It's one of the few book-to-movie adaptations that I actually enjoyed, too, which is rare for me."

Chan grins, taking another sip of his shake. "I might have to check it out now. You've definitely sold me on it."

You smile, feeling a warmth spread through your chest at the thought of him reading something you love so much. "If you do, let me know. I'd love to hear what you think."

The two of you finish your food, the conversation flowing easily as the sky darkens and the stars begin to appear. It's peaceful, sitting there on the hood of Chan's car, the city below twinkling like a sea of lights. There's something intimate about it, something that makes you feel closer to him in a way you hadn't expected.

Just as you're about to say something, you feel the first drop of rain hit your arm. You glance up, surprised to see dark clouds rolling in overhead. Before you can even react, the sky opens up, and rain starts pouring down in thick, heavy sheets.

You can't help it—you laugh. The sound bubbles out of you as you tip your head back, letting the rain soak your hair and drip down your face. It's cold, and you're getting absolutely drenched, but something about it feels freeing.

Chan, however, looks at you like you've lost your mind. "Y/N, you're gonna get sick."

You shake your head, grinning as the rain continues to pour. "What would Natasha Bedingfield say?"

He blinks at you, clearly confused. "Huh?"

You gasp dramatically, your hand flying to your chest. "Unwritten! Oh my god, Chan! Jisung and Felix are going to burn you at the stake for not understanding that reference."

Chan chuckles, wiping rain from his face as he tries to shield himself from the downpour. "Okay, okay, I'm sorry! But seriously, you're soaked to the bone, and your dress is, uh... well, it's kind of see-through now."

You glance down, noticing how your white dress clings to your body, the fabric almost translucent from the rain. You shrug, completely unbothered. "I've got a bra on, and I'm wearing hot pants under the dress. I'll survive."

Chan looks at you with a mixture of amusement and concern. "Yeah, but if you get sick right now, Jisung and Felix will never let me take you on another date."

You point at him, grinning. "Nicely played, Bang Chan. Nicely played."

He laughs, shaking his head as he pulls you off the hood of the car. "Come on, let's get out of the rain before you catch a cold."

You follow him, still laughing as the rain continues to pour, but you can't help but feel a little bit of warmth spreading through you despite the cold. There's something about the way Chan looks at you, something about the way this entire evening has played out, that makes you think this won't be the last time you end up drenched and laughing with him.

Once inside the car, Chan cranks the heat up, the warmth quickly filling the small space as you both sit there, soaked to the bone but smiling like idiots. He glances over at you, his eyes soft, and for a moment, the world outside fades away.

As soon as you settle into the passenger seat, you can't help but smile at how soaked you and Chan are. Rain still drips from your hair onto the seat, but the warmth from the car's heater slowly makes everything feel cosy despite your drenched clothes. Chan glances at you, his eyes twinkling with amusement as he runs a hand through his still-wet hair, pushing it back.

"Well, that wasn't how I imagined the night ending," he says, laughing softly. His voice is warm, and the way his lips curl into a grin sends a shiver through you—not from the cold, but something else.

You shake your head, chuckling. "What, getting caught in the rain wasn't part of your master plan?"

He grins. "I mean, I had something a little less... wet in mind."

You arch an eyebrow, smirking. "Oh? What was the plan, then?"

He shrugs as he starts the car. "I don't know... something about food, a nice drive back, maybe dropping you off without you looking like you've just walked through a storm."

You laugh, shaking your head at the thought. "Eh, I think the rain was a nice touch. Unpredictable."

As Chan pulls out of the diner's parking lot, you glance over at him, your fingers idly fiddling with the radio dial. You spin it to one of your favourite stations, hoping to hear something upbeat, something to keep this good mood going. The static clears, and suddenly, Natasha Bedingfield's Unwritten fills the car.

You burst out laughing, your hand shooting up to point at the radio. "See! I told you! It's a sign!"

Chan glances over at you with an incredulous smile, shaking his head. "Seriously?"

You nod, eyes wide with mock seriousness. "Yes! This is the universe telling us to go back out there and dance in the rain. Unwritten, Chan. It's fate."

He snorts, rolling his eyes as he turns the wheel, keeping his focus on the road. "Fate or not, Jisung and Felix will actually kill me if you get sick."

You wave him off dismissively, flipping your hair dramatically as the music pumps through the speakers. "Oh, please. They'd get over it. Besides, they do stuff like this with me all the time."

Chan glances at you, eyebrow raised. "Do what?"

"When it rains, and we're at the frat house, we lie in the garden."

He nearly chokes on his laughter, glancing over at you in disbelief. "You what?!"

You nod, completely serious. "Yep. We go out there, rain pouring down, and just lie in the grass, soaking it all in."

Chan shakes his head, clearly trying to picture the three of you doing that. "You're telling me that you, Felix, and Jisung, who are literal balls of sunshine, just... lie in the rain like that?"

"Mmhmm," you hum, smiling. "People think we'd hibernate when it rains, but nah, we're out there."

"Wait," Chan says, eyes widening in realization. "That time when all three of you came down with the flu and you were sick for, like, two weeks...?"

"Yep!" You laugh, nodding enthusiastically. "That was because we were out in the rain a few days before. It was right after that hurricane warning."

Chan slaps his palm against the steering wheel, groaning. "You're insane. All three of you."

You grin, unrepentant. "Totally worth it."

He shakes his head again, his tone somewhere between disbelief and amusement. "You know Minho had to play nursemaid for you three, right?"

"Don't remind me," you groan, laughing as the memories of that miserable two weeks flood back. "Jisung's bed became our sick haven. Minho brought us soup and medicine, and Felix complained the whole time that the soup was too hot. It was a mess."

Chan laughs, shaking his head again. "I bet Minho loved every second of that."

"Minho lived for it," you admit with a grin. "He pretended to be annoyed, but you could tell he secretly loved bossing us around."

The rain has finally let up by the time you and Chan pull up to the Alpha Phi frat house, but both of you are still soaked to the bone, shivering as the cold seeps into your skin. The storm caught you both off guard, drenching you during what should've been a calm and picturesque evening on the hilltop. Even with the heater blasting in Chan's car, your teeth are still chattering, and Chan isn't doing much better.

Chan glances over at you as he pulls into a parking spot. His lips are tinted blue from the cold, his hair dripping water into his eyes. "You sure you're okay? You're shaking like a leaf."

You nod, though it's a half-hearted attempt at pretending you're not freezing. "I'm fine. I've had worse. Plus, it was kind of fun, right?"

He chuckles, his deep voice making you feel warmer than the heat blasting through the vents. "Yeah, I guess it was." He turns the key in the ignition, killing the engine. "But maybe next time, we should pick somewhere indoors for dinner."

You smirk, teasing him. "Oh, what, are you scared of a little rain?"

He grins, shrugging. "I'm not scared, but I'd rather avoid hypothermia if possible. Plus, I'm gonna catch hell from Felix and Jisung if they see you like this."

"They'll live," you say with a laugh, unbuckling your seatbelt. "Besides, I've been soaked in the rain plenty of times before."

Chan raises an eyebrow, a playful glint in his eyes. "Yeah, but I'm betting none of those times involved a fifties diner date with me."

You can't help the smile that spreads across your face. "Fair point."

As you both climb out of the car, the cold night air hits you again, and you shiver, crossing your arms over your chest. Chan jogs over to your side and wraps his arm around your shoulders, pulling you close to his side as you both make your way toward the frat house entrance.

"You know," he says, his voice light as you walk, "I was thinking... would you want to go out again next week? Like, for dinner, maybe somewhere less rainy."

You glance up at him, surprised at how casual and confident he sounds, despite the shiver in his voice from the cold. His dark eyes are warm, even in the dim light from the porch. "I'd love that," you say, then grin playfully. "But I don't mind the rain."

He laughs, squeezing your shoulder as you reach the front door. "Duly noted. But I'll still try to find somewhere dry next time."

When you step inside the frat house, the warmth hits you like a wave, and it's a welcome change from the cold rain outside. The sound of voices fills the air—music is playing faintly in the background, and you can hear someone laughing loudly from the living room. The house is busy, as usual, but the moment you and Chan step through the door, all eyes seem to turn to you.

Felix and Jisung, who had been lounging on the couch in front of the TV, immediately leap up when they see you both. Felix's blonde hair bounces as he rushes over, and Jisung follows close behind, both of them wearing matching expressions of horror.

"Holy shit, Y/N, what the hell happened to you?!" Felix exclaims, eyes wide as he takes in your drenched appearance.

"You look like a fucking drowned rat!" Jisung adds, though his concern is clear despite the teasing.

Before you can respond, Chan lets out a small, sheepish laugh. "Yeah, we, uh, got caught in the rain."

Felix grabs a towel from a nearby chair and drapes it over your shoulders, his hands working quickly to pat you dry. "Caught in the rain? You look like you've been swimming in the fucking ocean, mate!"

Jisung, never one to miss a beat, starts wringing out your hair, water dripping onto the floor as he works. "This is unacceptable. Upstairs. Now. Felix's room. You need to dry off before you catch something."

Felix nods in agreement, already ushering you toward the staircase. "Chan, you're staying downstairs. We need to gossip in peace."

You glance back at Chan, who's trying—and failing—to hide his amusement. He shrugs, holding his hands up in surrender. "Fine, fine. I'll stay down here."

Jisung shoots him a mock glare. "I can't believe you brought her back soaked to the bone. What kind of date is this?"

Chan laughs, running a hand through his wet hair. "Hey, it wasn't my fault. The weather turned on us."

Felix huffs, shaking his head. "Excuses, excuses. Come on, Y/N. You're coming upstairs before you freeze."

Felix is already ahead of you, grabbing another towel from somewhere and practically shoving it into your hands. "Chan can stay downstairs and think about how he fucked up," he mutters.

You glance back at Chan, who's leaning against the doorframe with a sheepish grin, clearly amused by Felix and Jisung's antics. "Sorry, Y/N," he calls out, laughing as he raises his hands in surrender. "I'll just... wait down here."

"You better!" Felix yells over his shoulder as he marches up the stairs. "No more soaking wet dates until you learn how to control the weather!"

Jisung snickers, practically dragging you up the staircase. "Honestly, you'd think he'd check the forecast."

You roll your eyes, laughing at the absurdity of it all as you're pulled into the chaos that is Felix's room. It's a cosy space, there's a large desk cluttered with gaming gear and an impressive gaming chair, which you've stolen for yourself more times than you can count during impromptu hangouts.

Jisung shoves you into the chair before throwing a towel over your head, his hands immediately going to work on drying your hair with a little too much enthusiasm. You can't even see him, but you can hear his voice as he fusses over you. "You're lucky we're here. Who knows what kind of shit Chan would've done if we hadn't intervened."

"Yeah," Felix chimes in, digging through his drawer for what looks like some socks. "You probably would've caught pneumonia or something. He's hopeless when it comes to romance."

"Hey," you protest weakly from under the towel, voice muffled by the fabric. "The rain wasn't that bad."

Felix shoots you a look, one eyebrow raised in disbelief. "You're dripping water all over my floor, Y/N. It was bad."

Before you can respond, the door opens, and Jeongin steps into the room holding a steaming mug of hot chocolate. "Chan made this for you, but these two"—he gestures toward Felix and Jisung with his thumb—"told him to stay downstairs, so he asked me to bring it up."

You pull the towel off your head just enough to peek at Jeongin and the mug, your heart doing a little flutter at the thought of Chan making hot chocolate for you. It's a simple gesture, but something about it feels sweet and personal. "Thanks, Jeongin," you say, reaching for the mug.

Jeongin grins, sliding the cup into your hands. "No problem. You're gonna need it if you're hanging out with these two lunatics."

"Hey!" Jisung protests, still aggressively towelling your hair dry. "We're being responsible friends. We're making sure she doesn't freeze to death after being out in the rain with a guy who clearly doesn't own an umbrella."

Felix rolls his eyes, but there's a smile on his lips. "Yeah, yeah. Did you guys kiss, though?"

You nearly choke on your first sip of hot chocolate, but you manage to swallow before raising an eyebrow at Felix. "Excuse me?"

Felix's grin is wide and cheeky, his eyes gleaming with mischief. "Come on, spill. You went on a cute little date in the rain, and now you're back here all flustered. Did you kiss him?"

You take another sip of the hot chocolate, letting the warmth fill you as you shake your head. "No, not yet, unfortunately."

Felix and Jisung both stare at you, wide-eyed with anticipation after you reveal there was no kiss. The tension hangs in the air for a moment, and then Jisung throws his arms up in mock frustration, pacing dramatically in front of Felix's bed.

"No kiss?" he exclaims, sounding both horrified and baffled. "We sent you off into the rain with Captain fucking Bang Chan and you didn't even get a kiss? This is unacceptable. Felix, write that down."

Felix, ever the sidekick to Jisung's antics, pulls out a small notepad from the drawer of his desk and flips it open with a flourish. He grabs a pen and clicks it, poised to start scribbling. "What am I writing?"

Jisung, his eyes narrowing with exaggerated seriousness, points at you like a detective uncovering a conspiracy. "We need to make a list. A list of requirements and expectations that Chan must meet before he even thinks about asking her on another date."

You laugh, pulling the towel around you tighter. "Are you serious right now?"

Jisung snatches the comb from Felix's vanity and gives you a sharp look. "Now sit back and relax, princess," he says, his voice dripping with mock authority. "I'm about to give you the best hair care of your life."

You roll your eyes but settle into Felix's gaming chair, leaning back as you let Jisung gently work through the knots in your hair. Despite the aggressive energy he usually radiates, his hands are surprisingly gentle, carefully detangling each knot without pulling too hard. It's almost... soothing, in a weird way.

Felix, sitting cross-legged on his bed, notebook poised on his lap, taps his pen against the notepad like a man possessed. "Right, where were we?" he asks, a grin pulling at his lips. "Oh yeah, making sure Captain Bang Chan lives up to our best friend's standards."

You give them both a playful glare. "You two are way too invested in my love life."

"We're not invested," Jisung says, pausing to rake the comb through your hair again. "We're protective. There's a difference. Now, let's get back to this list of demands. You deserve only the best, so it's our job to filter out the subpar dudes."

Felix nods solemnly, clicking the pen. "Agreed. If Chan doesn't meet these standards, we'll end this for you before it even begins."

You snort, leaning back into the chair. "You're both absolutely insane."

"Insane, but right," Jisung insists, giving your hair a soft tug for emphasis. "And trust me, you'll thank us for this later."

Felix's eyes gleam with mischief as he starts writing. "Alright, first of all—Chan needs to know everything about The Book Thief. Characters, themes, hidden meanings. He better be able to have in-depth discussions with you about the book at any time. If he can't do that, then what's the point?"

You chuckle, feeling the tension in your shoulders ease as Jisung works the comb through your hair. "You two really think I need to date a literature major?"

"No," Felix replies, shaking his head. "But if he's going to date you, he better know the basics. He should at least be able to have a conversation about your favourite book without embarrassing himself."

Jisung nods in agreement, still combing. "Exactly. This is crucial. Next up—Chan must proofread your creative writing assignments for your minor if you ask him to. I know you, Y/N. You obsess over every little detail in your work. Chan's gotta step up and help with that."

You burst out laughing. "He's not even a lit major! How do you expect him to help me with my writing?"

"Doesn't matter," Felix says, scribbling furiously in his notepad. "He's smart, isn't he? He can read and give feedback. That's part of being a supportive boyfriend."

Jisung hums thoughtfully, gently untangling another knot. "And let's not forget the most important rule. Chan must always carry cherry lollipops. No exceptions. That's your thing, Y/N, and if he doesn't have at least one on him at all times, he's out."

Felix smirks, adding that to the list. "Definitely. You've got a brand, and he needs to respect that. Cherry lollipops are non-negotiable."

"You two are ridiculous," you say with a smile, shaking your head as Jisung continues combing through your now smooth hair.

"We're just getting started," Jisung replies with a grin. "Let's see... Oh! He must memorize your coffee order. If he can't order it perfectly, he's done."

Felix nods enthusiastically, jotting it down. "And he has to be able to tell when you're having a bad day just by looking at you. No asking. He should know instinctively."

Jisung leans over your shoulder, inspecting Felix's list. "Don't forget, he must also be willing to go to the bookstore with you and carry all your books. If he complains even once, he fails."

You laugh out loud at that one, swatting at Jisung's hand. "Oh come on, that's a bit much!"

"No, it's not," Felix insists, wagging his pen. "It's bare minimum boyfriend behaviour. He needs to support your reading addiction."

Jisung grins. "He should also randomly surprise you with books. No special occasion necessary just because he knows it'll make you smile."

Felix writes that one down too, adding, "And he needs to know your taste in literature inside and out. If he buys you a book you hate, that's a big red flag."

You groan, but you're still smiling. "How are you two even coming up with all of this?"

"It's easy," Jisung replies as he finishes with your hair, setting the comb down on Felix's vanity. "We just know you really well, so we know what you deserve."

Once Felix and Jisung are done crafting the list of increasingly ridiculous standards, Jisung leans back in Felix's gaming chair, admiring their handiwork with a gleam in his eye. "Alright, now we're going to make sure Chan actually agrees to this."

Felix nods, slapping the notepad with a grin. "But wait! We're missing something. Before he can even sign the list, we need to create The Felix and Jisung Best Friend Test."

You pause, mid-sip of your hot chocolate, raising an eyebrow. "The fucking what now?"

Jisung jumps out of his chair like he's struck with divine inspiration. "It's the ultimate screening test. Before Chan can officially date you, Felix and I need to make sure he's worthy of our approval."

Felix grins devilishly, clearly in full agreement. "Exactly. We'll come up with a set of questions that he has to answer. If he passes, then he's worthy of dating you. If he fails..." He lets his voice trail off dramatically.

Jisung crosses his arms and nods solemnly. "Then it's a no-go."

You stare at both of them, half-amused, half-exasperated. "You two are so full of shit."

"We're not full of shit," Felix says, his voice overly serious. "We're just looking out for you. This is important. We have to protect you from subpar boyfriends."

"Yeah," Jisung adds, already pulling out a fresh sheet of paper to write the test questions. "You don't want to end up with some guy who doesn't even know your favourite book or messes up your coffee order."

You groan though you can't help but smile. "Alright, fine. Let's hear these 'test' questions."

Jisung taps the pen against his chin thoughtfully. "First question: 'What are your intentions with our sweet Y/N?' Gotta make sure he's in it for the right reasons."

Felix scribbles it down with a smirk. "Good one. If he hesitates, it's an automatic fail."

Jisung nods. "Next question: 'Why didn't you kiss her on the first date? Is she not good enough for you? What's wrong with you?'"

You nearly choke on your laughter, shaking your head. "Oh my god, you're seriously going to ask him that?"

"Absolutely," Jisung says, grinning. "We need answers."

Felix adds, "And it's important. If there's no kiss on the first date, we need to know why."

Jisung leans over Felix's shoulder, reading the list as he adds more questions. "How about this one: 'What are you going to do if Y/N gets kidnapped? How are you helping Felix and me get her back from the heathens?'"

Felix cracks up, his pen still moving. "Yes! And we're expecting a detailed answer. None of that 'I'll call the cops' bullshit. We need action, a full-on rescue plan."

You sigh, pinching the bridge of your nose but still smiling. "You guys are fucking ridiculous."

"And yet, you love us for it," Jisung says with a cheeky grin. "Alright, next question... What's a question that'll really throw him off?"

Felix taps his pen thoughtfully. "How about... 'If Y/N wanted to adopt a pet raccoon, what would your reaction be?'"

Jisung snorts, grinning wildly. "Perfect. That'll tell us if he's capable of handling your weirdness."

You burst out laughing. "I don't want a pet raccoon!"

"Yeah, but hypothetically, what if you did?" Jisung replies, shrugging. "It's a test of his adaptability. Gotta see if he can roll with the punches."

"Okay, next one," Felix says, his voice slightly muffled as he scribbles away. "'If Y/N comes home with ten books, what's your reaction?'"

Jisung grins. "And if he says anything other than 'I'll help carry them,' he's done."

The two of them continue brainstorming ridiculous questions while you lean back in the gaming chair, amused and baffled by their dedication. After a few more minutes, they finally stop, looking at the list like they've just created a masterpiece.

"Alright," Jisung says, holding up the notebook triumphantly. "The Felix and Jisung Best Friend Test is complete. Let's go find Chan."

You roll your eyes, but there's no stopping them now. You stand up and follow them downstairs to the living room, where the rest of the guys are lounging around. Minho and Jeongin are sprawled on the couch, while Hyunjin and Seungmin are half-heartedly watching something on TV.

As you walk in, Minho raises an eyebrow, glancing at you and then at Felix and Jisung, who are clearly on a mission. "What's this all about?"

Before you can answer, Jeongin scoots over, making room for you on the couch. You sit between him and Minho, and they both immediately pull you into their warmth. Minho wraps an arm around your shoulders, pulling you close. "You're freezing," he mutters, his voice low and concerned. "Did Felix and Jisung not take care of you upstairs?"

Jeongin grabs your hands, rubbing them between his to warm them up. "Yeah, you're still cold. You need to warm up properly."

You smile at their concern, feeling the warmth from their bodies seep into your skin. "I'm fine, really. You two are just acting like overprotective brothers now."

Minho snorts. "Someone has to look out for you."

Before you can say anything else, Jisung suddenly dims the lights, casting the room into a shadowy glow. Felix stands near the light switch, his face serious. "Alright, everyone. We're about to interrogate Chan."

Chan, sitting comfortably in the armchair, looks up in surprise, his brows furrowing. "Uh... what?"

Jisung steps forward, pulling out his phone and turning on the flashlight, shining it directly into Chan's face. "You heard us, Bang Chan. You're about to take The Felix and Jisung Best Friend Test."

Chan blinks, momentarily blinded by the light. "Wait, what?"

Felix steps forward with the notepad, his voice dripping with authority. "This is a screening process. If you pass, you're allowed to date Y/N. If you fail, well... let's just say you'll have some explaining to do."

You groan, burying your face in your hands. "I can't believe this is happening."

But Chan just laughs, leaning back in the armchair and crossing his arms. "Alright, let's hear it. What's this test?"

Jisung clears his throat dramatically as if this is a matter of utmost importance. "First question: What are your intentions with our sweet Y/N?"

Chan looks amused but answers seriously. "My intentions are to take her on nice dates, make her smile, and get to know her better."

Felix narrows his eyes, scribbling something in his notepad. "Good answer. Next question: Why didn't you kiss her on the first date? Is she not good enough? What's wrong with you?"

Chan laughs, rubbing the back of his neck. "Well, the timing didn't feel right. I didn't want to rush it."

Jisung leans forward, still holding the phone flashlight up. "You sure it wasn't because you don't find her attractive?"

Chan's face softens as he looks at you. "Definitely not. I just didn't want to ruin a good night by moving too fast."

Felix jots down some more notes, looking satisfied. "Okay, next question. What are you going to do if Y/N gets kidnapped? How are you helping Jisung and me get her back from the heathens?"

Chan raises an eyebrow, clearly trying not to laugh. "Uh... first, I'd call you two to let you know what's happening. Then I'd help track her down, using my connections and resources. I'll be the one to take down the kidnappers."

Jisung nods approvingly. "Good, good. We need someone who's willing to get their hands dirty."

Felix continues, his tone completely serious. "Alright, here's a tricky one. If Y/N wanted to adopt a pet raccoon, what would your reaction be?"

Chan chuckles, leaning forward slightly. "If Y/N wanted a pet raccoon, I'd probably try to talk her into getting something a little less... wild. But if she really wanted it, I'd help her take care of it."

Jisung grins. "Good. Adaptability. Nice."

Felix glances at the list, nodding to himself before moving on. "Alright, final question. If Y/N comes home with ten books, what's your reaction?"

Chan doesn't even hesitate. "I'd help her carry them, no questions asked."

Felix and Jisung exchange a glance, clearly impressed with Chan's answers. Felix gives a satisfied nod. "Alright, Chan. You passed the test."

Jisung shuts off the flashlight and steps back. "You're not out of the woods yet, though."

Felix pulls out the list of ridiculous standards they'd created earlier and clears his throat. "Now, we have a list of standards that you need to agree to if you're going to date Y/N."

Chan raises an eyebrow, leaning back in the armchair. "Standards?"

Jisung smirks, grabbing the notepad from Felix and reading aloud. "First: You must know everything about The Book Thief, characters, themes, quotes, everything. Y/N needs to be able to discuss it with you at any time."

Chan chuckles, nodding. "Alright, I can do that."

"Second," Felix continues, his tone serious. "You must proofread her creative writing assignments if she asks. No complaints."

Chan nods again. "Deal."

"Third," Jisung adds, his grin growing wider. "You must always carry cherry lollipops. No exceptions. If Y/N asks for one and you don't have it, you're done."

Chan laughs, clearly enjoying the absurdity of the situation. "Got it. I'll stock up."

Felix flips to the next page, continuing the list. "You also need to memorize her coffee order perfectly, be willing to go to the bookstore with her, and carry all her books without complaint."

Jisung adds, "Oh, and you need to surprise her with books every now and then. No special occasion necessary."

Chan grins, shaking his head. "That actually sounds fun. I'm in."

"And last but not least," Felix says, looking at the final line on the list, "you need to be able to tell when Y/N's having a bad day just by looking at her. No asking. You should know instinctively."

Chan looks thoughtful for a moment, then nods. "I think I can manage that."

Jisung hands him a pen, a triumphant grin on his face. "These are non-negotiable, Chan. You are to sign this list and commit to these standards."

Chan takes the pen, still smiling, and signs the bottom of the list with a flourish. "There. Happy?"

Felix and Jisung exchange satisfied nods, clearly pleased with themselves. "Very," Felix says, tucking the list into his back pocket. "You've officially earned our approval."

You can't help but laugh at the entire situation, shaking your head. "You guys are unbelievable."

Minho, who's been watching the entire exchange with an amused smirk, tightens his arm around your shoulders and leans in. "I'm surprised Chan actually put up with all of that."

Chan shrugs, standing up from the armchair. "It was worth it."

Jeongin, still holding your hands, grins. "Well, I think this means we can officially welcome you into the family, Chan."

Chan gives a mock salute. "Glad to be here."

It's game day, and the energy on campus is absolutely electric. The Miroh Maniacs are playing their biggest rivals—the Northridge Titans—and you're, as always, exactly where you belong: on the players' bench, close to the action.

The sun is high in the sky, casting a warm glow over the packed bleachers. Fans are screaming, faces painted red and black in support of the Maniacs, and you're sitting in the middle of the chaos, completely calm, once again flipping through your worn copy of The Book Thief.

Your red summer dress flutters lightly in the breeze, contrasting against the bright green of the football field. The black wedges on your feet sink slightly into the grass, and your signature red heart-shaped sunglasses sit perched on your nose. You cross your legs, turning another page, your focus entirely on the book. It's comforting, especially amidst the madness of game day.

The Maniacs' jerseys stand out against the green—Chan with his number 03, Minho wearing 25, Felix sporting 01, and the rest of the team spread across the field. Their black and red uniforms gleam in the sunlight, and the tension in the air is thick.

It's always like this when they play the Titans. These games are intense, brutal, even. You've seen more dirty plays and borderline illegal tackles during these matches than you care to admit.

Today is no different. From the moment the game kicks off, the Titans come at the Maniacs full force. You can hear the crack of helmets and the heavy thud of bodies slamming into each other, the crowd roaring in response to every hit. The referee's whistle cuts through the noise, but it doesn't stop the Titans from playing dirty.

You catch sight of Felix getting shoved to the ground by one of their linebackers, a dirty move that earns him nothing but a smirk from the Titans' player. Jisung's quick to step in, shoving the guy back before the referees can even intervene.

"Fucking Titans," Jisung mutters, glancing toward you as he returns to the field. You give him a supportive smile from your spot on the bench, watching as he lines up again. He's always one to defend his teammates, especially Felix.

As the game goes on, you try to stay focused on your book, but it's hard not to be distracted by the intensity of the match. You glance up every now and then, watching as Chan barrels through the Titans' defensive line, Minho weaving through the chaos with his usual precision. Changbin's a wrecking ball, slamming into players with no hesitation, while Hyunjin and Jeongin dart across the field like lightning.

You can feel the pressure building with every second that ticks by, especially as the Titans continue to play dirty. By the time halftime rolls around, the score is close, too close for comfort. The Maniacs jog off the field, sweat dripping down their faces, some of them muttering curses under their breath about the Titans' underhanded tactics.

As they head to the locker room, you settle deeper into your seat, trying to focus back on your book. You're mid-sentence when you suddenly feel a presence nearby, someone standing too close. You glance up, annoyed at the interruption, only to see a guy from the rival team standing right in front of you. He's got the Titans' logo plastered across his jersey, and the look on his face immediately sets you on edge.

"Well, well, what do we have here?" he says, his voice dripping with sleaze. His eyes rake over you, lingering in ways that make your skin crawl. "Didn't think a pretty little thing like you would be hanging around with those losers."

You ignore him, hoping he'll get the hint and leave. You flip the page in your book, acting like you haven't even noticed him. But of course, guys like him don't take hints.

"Hey, sweetheart, I'm talking to you," he presses, stepping even closer. You can smell the cheap cologne and sweat on him. "You waiting for one of those fuckers on the Maniacs? Why don't you come watch the real men play instead? I could show you a better time."

You grit your teeth, doing your best to tune him out. You've dealt with assholes like this before—guys who think they can say whatever they want because they're on some team. It's not worth engaging. But he's not done. He leans in closer, his voice lowering as he continues his vulgar comments.

"You know, a girl like you shouldn't be wasting time on a bunch of losers like them. I could make you feel good, babe. Real good. Just say the word."

Your fingers tighten around the book, every fibre of your being screaming to shove him away, but you hold back. He's not worth your energy. You stay silent, eyes glued to the page.

"Oh, come on. What's wrong? Cat got your tongue?" he taunts, leaning over you now. "You're not gonna say no to a guy like me, are you?"

And then, just like that, he reaches down and snatches your book out of your hands. You feel your stomach drop as he holds it above his head, grinning like he's accomplished something.

"Reading, huh? What a waste of time. Why don't you come have some fun with me instead? I promise it'll be better than this boring shit."

You stand up, crossing your arms over your chest, glaring at him with a look that could burn a hole through steel. "Give it back."

The guy just smirks, holding the book even higher above his head. "Oh, I'll give it back when you ask nicely. Maybe throw in a little thank you while you're at it."

Before you can even respond, someone from behind shouts, "OI!"

The guy freezes, and you turn to see Chan storming over, the rest of the team flanking him like a wall of muscle and fury. His eyes are locked on the guy holding your book, his jaw clenched tight, and there's murder in his expression.

Without missing a beat, Chan wraps an arm around your waist, pulling you close and pressing a kiss to the top of your head. You lean into his side, your heart pounding, but the tension starts to melt away with him there. Felix and Jisung are already stepping up, both of them glaring at the guy.

"You've got three fucking seconds to give her the book back," Felix growls, his usually bright and playful demeanour nowhere to be seen.

Jisung steps forward, fists clenched. "Or we'll make sure you won't be able to hold anything for a long fucking time."

The guy falters, glancing nervously between them, but he tries to play it off. "Relax, I was just having a little fun. No need to get all worked up."

Changbin, looking like he's seconds away from throwing the guy into the bleachers, steps up beside Felix. "Give her the fucking book. Now."

Minho crosses his arms, his gaze icy. "Before we decide to make sure you never play another game again."

The guy's bravado cracks, and he lowers the book slightly, trying to keep what little dignity he has left. "Whatever," he mutters, tossing the book toward you. "She's fucking ugly anyway."

Before anyone can react, Jisung lunges. He tackles the guy to the ground with a force that knocks the breath out of everyone watching. The rival player barely has time to register what's happening before Jisung's fists are flying, rage clear in every strike.

You feel Chan's grip tighten on you as he pulls you back, keeping you close. "Stay with me," he murmurs into your ear, his voice low and protective. You lean into him, still trying to process everything as Jeongin and Hyunjin rush over, pulling Jisung off the guy before things get out of hand.

"Enough, Han!" Hyunjin shouts, dragging Jisung back. "He's not worth it."

Jisung struggles for a second, but eventually calms down, breathing heavily as he glares at the guy on the ground. "Don't you fucking dare talk about her like that again."

The guy scrambles to his feet, muttering curses under his breath as he stumbles away, clearly shaken.

Felix steps forward, placing a hand on Jisung's shoulder. "Let him go, man. He's not worth it."

You finally exhale, the tension in your chest easing slightly as the situation defuses. You're still leaning against Chan, his arm wrapped securely around you, and you glance up at him. He's watching the guy walk away, his jaw still tight, but when he looks down at you, his expression softens.

"You okay?" he asks, his voice gentle.

You nod, though your heart is still racing. "Yeah. Thanks for that."

He smiles, pressing another kiss to your forehead. "Always."

The second half of the game kicks off with a surge of intensity that practically crackles in the air. The crowd is louder than ever, chanting and cheering as the Maniacs and Titans line up on the field. You can feel the tension pulsing through the stadium, but all you can think about is the smirk that guy had on his face and how Jisung tackled him to the ground.

You catch Chan's eye as he gets into position, his jaw tight, eyes focused like a predator stalking prey. He's locked in now, and it's obvious who he's targeting.

The moment the whistle blows, Chan charges forward with a level of ferocity you've only seen in games against the Titans. He barrels through the opposing players like a tank, zeroing in on the guy who had the audacity to mess with you.

There's no hesitation, no mercy in his movements. Chan slams into him hard, sending the player sprawling onto the field with a heavy thud. The crowd erupts, half in awe, half in shock, but you just smirk, knowing this is personal for Chan.

From the bench, you and Jisung watch with amused satisfaction. Jisung's been benched for his earlier outburst but he's not bothered. In fact, he's enjoying every second of watching Chan wreck that guy's shit.

"Damn, Chan's out for blood," Jisung mutters, leaning back on the bench as he watches the game with a grin. "That guy's going to feel those hits tomorrow."

You chuckle, flipping through your book even though the game keeps pulling your attention. "I don't feel bad for him. He had it coming."

Jisung nods, watching as Chan lines up for the next play, eyes narrowed on his target. "Oh, for sure. That dude's lucky Chan's not actually trying to break bones."

Another whistle and the play starts again. Chan doesn't miss a beat, taking down the same guy with ruthless efficiency. It's like watching a lion pick off the weakest in the herd. Each tackle is harder than the last, and each time the guy gets up, he's a little slower, a little more shaken.

Jisung laughs, glancing at you out of the corner of his eye. "You know, Chan really likes you."

You pause, pretending to still be engrossed in The Book Thief even though the words are starting to blur from how fast your heart is beating. "Yeah, I know. He was really sweet on our date."

Jisung raises an eyebrow. "Sweet, huh? Is that why you didn't kiss?"

You roll your eyes, shifting in your seat. "I don't know. I just wish he would've kissed me. I mean, he was perfect the whole night, but..."

Jisung snorts, shaking his head. "He's waiting for the right moment, that dork. It's Chan. He overthinks everything."

"He's sweet," you say with a small smile, glancing over at the field as Chan flattens the guy again. "But yeah, he could be a little bolder."

Jisung chuckles, leaning back and crossing his arms. "He's a huge step up from the losers you usually date, though."

You give him a side-eye but can't help but laugh. "Thanks, Ji. Real subtle."

Jisung grins. "Just saying. Chan's actually a good guy. He treats you right, and he's obviously willing to tackle anyone who looks at you the wrong way."

You smirk, watching as the game progresses with Chan's relentless assault on the guy who'd tried to mess with you. The Titans are starting to look rattled, their dirty tactics failing as the Maniacs pick up momentum. Every time Chan hits the guy, you and Jisung share a glance, unable to hide your amusement.

"God, he's just laying him out over and over," Jisung laughs, shaking his head. "I almost feel bad for the guy. Almost."

You lean back, crossing your legs and finally closing your book, realizing you're too distracted to read. "He deserves it."

"Damn right he does," Jisung mutters, eyes flicking back to the field. "And Chan? He's doing it for you. You see how hard he's going?"

Your chest flutters a little, watching Chan as he commands the field, each hit more powerful than the last. Yeah, you've noticed. He's not just playing for the team right now. He's playing for you.

The final whistle blows, and the Maniacs emerge victorious with a hard-fought win. The stands erupt into wild cheers, red and black confetti raining down as fans jump to their feet. The Maniacs' players are high-fiving and clapping each other on the back, but your eyes are locked on Chan as he jogs off the field, eyes immediately searching for you.

Felix, Minho, and the rest of the team are basking in the victory, but Chan's focus is entirely on you. As he gets closer, you can see the adrenaline still pumping through his veins, his chest rising and falling with each breath. His hair is damp with sweat, his jersey streaked with dirt, but he's never looked better.

He doesn't stop when he reaches you. Instead, he hooks his arm around your waist, pulling you up from the bench in one fluid motion before pressing his lips to yours. It's not gentle, not soft like you might've imagined for a first kiss. It's fierce, fueled by the high of victory and the raw emotion from earlier. But it's perfect.

The second his lips meet yours, the world seems to blur. The roar of the crowd fades into the background, and for a moment, it's just you and Chan. You kiss him back, wrapping your arms around his neck as he lifts you slightly off the ground. You can feel the strength in his arms, the heat radiating from his body, and the way his lips move against yours is enough to make your head spin.

Around you, the entire football team erupts into cheers and whistles, but you don't care. You and Chan are locked in your own little world. His grip tightens on your waist, pulling you even closer as his lips move against yours with a kind of urgency that takes your breath away.

When you finally pull apart, both of you are breathless, and Chan presses his forehead against yours, his smile wide and genuine.

"Took you long enough," you tease, your heart racing.

He laughs, his eyes sparkling with that boyish charm that always gets to you. "Sorry, I guess I was waiting for the right moment."

You chuckle, still feeling the warmth of his lips lingering on yours. "Well, I think this qualifies."

"Damn right it does," Jisung calls from the sidelines, still sitting on the bench. He's grinning from ear to ear, and Felix is right beside him, laughing. The entire team is watching now, most of them whistling or clapping, and you roll your eyes at their over-the-top reactions.

Chan sets you back down, his arm still wrapped around your waist as he turns to face the team, his grin widening. "Alright, alright. Get your laughs in now."

Felix smirks, clapping his hands. "I knew it! I fucking knew it was gonna happen today. Took you long enough, mate."

Minho, ever the smug one, crosses his arms and raises an eyebrow. "Not bad, Bang Chan. Not bad at all. But we all knew it was coming."

You roll your eyes, leaning into Chan's side as the team continues to tease. Jeongin comes up and claps Chan on the back, grinning. "Finally, man. We were starting to think you'd never make a move."

Chan chuckles, tightening his arm around you. "Yeah, well... figured I'd save the kiss for after a win."

Jisung, still lounging on the bench, raises an eyebrow. "You're just lucky you didn't fuck it up. If you waited any longer, Y/N might've made the first move."

You smirk, looking up at Chan. "He's not wrong."

Chan laughs, leaning down to press a quick kiss to your temple. "Guess I'll have to make sure I'm quicker next time."

The rest of the team hoots and hollers, clearly enjoying the moment. Even Hyunjin, who's usually more composed, is grinning like an idiot. Seungmin shakes his head, trying to suppress a laugh. "I'm just glad we finally got that over with. It was painful watching you two dance around each other."

Felix claps his hands together, a wicked grin on his face. "Alright, next step is Chan officially joining the 'Best Friends Approved Boyfriend' club. Y/N's got some standards, and we need to make sure he's up to the task."

Chan groans, shooting Felix a look. "I already signed the damn list. What more do you want from me?"

You laugh, shaking your head as Felix continues to tease. "We'll let you off the hook for now, Captain," you say, giving him a playful nudge. "But only because you did good today."

Chan grins down at you, his eyes softening. "Thanks. That means a lot, coming from you."

As the team slowly starts to head toward the locker rooms, you and Chan linger for a moment longer, basking in the aftermath of the game and the kiss that's still fresh on your lips. The sun is beginning to set, casting a golden glow over the field, and for a moment, everything feels perfect.

Chan pulls you closer, his voice low as he leans in. "So, what do you say we go out tonight? Celebrate the win... and the kiss?"

You smile, your heart fluttering at the thought. "I'd like that."

He grins, pressing one last kiss to your forehead before leading you toward the locker rooms. The Maniacs may have won the game, but in this moment, it feels like you and Chan are the real victors.

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nonranghaes · 3 months

Text

"i made soonie a hat."

minho looks up from where he's been working on dinner for the past five or so minutes, just to see you proudly brandishing a knit red and white hat in your hands. true to your words, it's the perfect size for soonie, and he can see where there's spots for his little ears to poke out of it.

"is this why you picked up knitting?" minho asks with an amused smile on his face. you'd told him that you just wanted a new hobby... and you did, because you saw pictures of cats with hats and needed this in your life.

you avert your gaze, already flustered at how well your boyfriend knows you. "... shut up." and while minho chuckles, you continue on after a second, "do you think he'll like it?"

ah. right. that's part of the reason why he fell in love with you. the kids love you as much as you love them. "doongie and dori will be jealous."

"i'm working on theirs," you wave him off, looking down at the project you'd been working hard at for a while now. you're only a novice, but minho thinks it looks pretty good. after a moment, you shyly look up at him again. "do you like it, minho?"

"i love it," he smiles at you that cute bunny smile that always leaves you wanting to pepper his face with kisses. maybe you will later, when he's not holding a knife and clearly busy. "make me one, too," he teases. "we could have a family picture one day."

you know this time he's joking... but you think you will, once you feel more confident in your knitting. just to see him smile again.

#nonranghaes.thoughts #stray kids x you #stray kids fluff #stray kids x reader #stray kids imagines #stray kids imagine #skz x y/n #skz x you #skz fluff #skz imagine #skz x reader #skz imagines #nonranghaes.skz #lee know fluff #lee know x reader #lee minho fluff #lee minho x reader

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sunboki · 28 days

Text

🛒 SKZ TEXTS — “it’s because i’m ugly, isn’t it?”

including. ot8!

warnings. mentions of death…?

notes. haven’t made a smau in forever! please enjoy :)

sunboki, may 2022 ©

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hwa-hyun · 1 month

Text

Prompt: “sorry, my social battery ran out:(”

✰ who: skz ot8 x gn!reader

synopsis - bfs skz when you hide away at a social gathering

a/n: thank you so much to @pardyparderson for offering this prompt on a silver platter without even meaning to

cw: there’s a lot of snacking, running out of social battery is literally the plot, mentions of tiresome aunt/uncle in changbin and han one, han one is a teny-tiny bit suggestive?

skz masterlist

──────────────────────

©hwa-hyun: do not copy or republish as your own, reblogs and replies mean the world though 🫶🏼

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hyunniesgirl · 10 months

Text

I wanna be yours

Pairing: Bangchan x fem!reader

Summary: it was all a game to him, until all he could think about was you. He wanted to have all of you. Ruin all of you. Love all of you.

Or, the one where Chan is a cocky asshole who's going out with you just for fun and ends up falling in love.

Slightly inspired in the movie 10 things I hate about you.

Genres: angst, smut, fluff

Words count: 10,991

Masterlist

This content is +18 ONLY, minors do NOT interact!

Warnings: Corruption kink(kinda), dry humping, fingering, blowjob, loss of virginity, unprotected sex, pet names(princess, baby), Chan is cocky as fuck(and I'm here for it, stan cocky Bangchan), reader gets kinda insecure close to the end(let me know if I missed something)

A/N: should I be answering my requests or updating my series? Yes, did I spend too much time in a super long self indulgent oneshot? I did. It was supposed to be just smut with corruption kink 😭 turns out I can't write the porn without the plot.

It all started as a game for him. He just didn't guess how much you would mess with his head.

Bang Chan doesn't care much about college, with a promising career in music, he's just attending classes so his parents won't nag him too much.

That means he's bored all the time.

So when Jeongin, his youngest friend, begged him to win his girlfriend's sister over and date her for a bit, he almost accepted right away, yearning for some fun. But he didn't, not before knowing who you were.

That's how he ended up here, trying to find you in the middle of communication class. He didn't need to look too much, from Jeongin’s description, he could find you in the blink of an eye.

“A pretty girl, probably wearing black or some neutral color and she'll probably be in a corner. She's very shy, when you speak to her don't be too straightforward, you may scare her”

The way Jeongin described you didn't show any ill intent and he was always a good guy, that's why Chan considered accepting his offer in the first place. He must have his reasons for almost kneeling in front of his friend, asking for him to date you.

Chan sits behind you, observing every movement you make. You're indeed pretty and you really are shy. He notices how you want to raise your hand every time the professor asks a question, but you always hesitate and someone speaks over you. Every time you try to speak, some rude person cuts you and instead of getting mad, your face turns red and you shrink in your seat, trying to make yourself even more invisible.

There's something about you, Chan can't tell what it is, but it's something amusing about how you behave. Someone like you could have every guy in this university wrapped around your little finger and every girl wanting to be your friend.

As soon as the class ends, Chan sends a text to Jeongin, telling him he will do it. He doesn't waste time, waiting for everyone to get out of the classroom while you're still collecting your things.

“Hey”, he says out of nowhere, making you jump and look at him with huge doe eyes. “I'm sorry, I didn't mean to scare you”.

He kinda did want that, though, curious to see how you would react, he thought maybe you would raise your voice and curse him, but you reacted as calmly as possible.

“It's okay”, you mumble.

You keep organizing your things, trying to ignore his presence.

“So, I wanted to ask if you can let me borrow your notes”, he asks, making puppy eyes.

You turn back to him and Chan can almost see the gears turning inside your head.

“Why does he want my notes if he just attended the same class?” It's written all over your face.

“I pulled an all nighter studying for another class and kind of dozed off earlier”, he lies, smiling sheepishly while scratching the back of his neck.

You stare at him for a bit, pondering if you should say yes, actually, let's be real: can you even say no?

This is Bang Chan, handsome and popular, everyone knows him and the other two guys from 3racha. The last you heard, he didn't care much about classes since he's already progressing in his music career so you still don't understand why he wants to borrow your notes.

“Yeah, okay”, you nod, deciding to agree so this conversation can be over soon. You pull your notebook out of your bag and hand it to him. “Just make sure to give it back by next class”

“Sure, thanks”, he gives you a big bright smile that makes you gulp while staring at him, just a few minutes in his presence and you already know something very important: this man is dangerous.

You look around awkwardly, not knowing what Chan wants more. He's just standing there, staring at you.

“I'll get going then”, you sigh, feeling exhausted by this whole interaction.

You turn around, walking to the door, leaving Chan there, dumbstruck. Jeongin was right, you have no social skills, but you're much more entertaining than he made you out to be.

—

You're having lunch with Yuna, your sister, and Jeongin, her boyfriend, in the cafeteria. You like spending time with them, they are probably the only people you feel comfortable around in this university.

You met Jeongin three months ago. Your sister came home giggling like a child on Christmas, sat on your bed and told you she got a boyfriend.

You ran to your door, closing it after checking that your parents weren't around. There's only one rule in the house: your younger sister must not date before you do.

Your parents are not conservative or anything like that, they just had you two later than other parents, so they are very overprotective. You don't know exactly the reason why they set this rule, maybe it's because they are sure you're never going to date.

Yuna is your best friend, she was a sickly child so all those interactions and fights that normal sisters have, you didn't. You spent most of her childhood and a huge part of yours by her side in the hospital. Fortunately, she was able to go back to a normal life by the time she was becoming a teenager, she was always a social butterfly even in the hospital everyone loved her.

You always thought it was unfair that she had to wait to have a boyfriend simply because you are not interesting enough or can't even hold a conversation properly without stuttering, but there was nothing you could do about it. You even tried arguing with your parents about it but it always ended with them telling you to forget about it.

You see Jeongin waving to someone, something is off, they never invite anyone to eat with them. A tray is settled by your side and you look at the person who sits in the seat next to yours: Bang Chan.

“Hello again”, he smiles at you, a handsome smile with dimples showing and everything. He greets the others after.

You look at Yuna and Jeongin, she is frowning just like you and her boyfriend is eating like this is an ordinary situation in your daily lunch.

“Hi”, you sister answers, “I don't think we met before”

“Oh, yeah, I'm Bang Chan!” He stretches his hand so she can shake it. “Jeongin is an old friend and I have communication class with y/n”

“Ah”, she nods, looking at her boyfriend. You stay in silence, playing with your food, waiting for Jeongin to send Bang Chan away.

“Babe, I forgot I have a project due tonight”, Jeongin says, slapping the palm of his hand on his forehead. He stands up, “can you help me? Chan will keep y/n company.”

No. You don't want him to keep you company. Your eyes widen and you stare at your sister, trying to send her a mental signal so she won't let you alone with him.

What you don't see, it's that she has already caught up on the way Bang Chan is looking at you and she might think she understands what's happening.

“Okay, yeah. Take care of her”, your sister says, smiling apologetically to you while she gets up and follows Jeongin out of your sight.

You should just throw your food away and go to the library, maybe you can eat a sandwich.

“Would you like to go on a date with me?” You hear Bang Chan's voice before you can put your plan into practice, turning around to look at him with the most terrified face he ever saw on someone. “Ouch, does the idea scare you so much?” He jokes.

“Why would you want to go on a date with me? We just met yesterday”, you point out, holding yourself back so you won't just stand up and run away.

“I find you interesting, it's just a date so we can get to know each other better”, he shrugs. He's so nonchalant about it, while you're freaking out inside.

“I don't think that's a good idea, I'm not good at keeping conversations, you'll get bored”, you say frantically. You just didn't expect him to laugh.

“I can do all the talking, I love to talk"

Chan knows this move is risky and there's a high probability you won't accept, but he just felt like asking you at that moment.

“Are you sure you won't get bored?” You ask.

His eyes widen and he nods, are you really considering it?

You are, obviously. You bet no one could ever guess, but Bang Chan is your ideal type, actually he is probably everyone's ideal type.

He has the kindest smile you have ever seen and the way his eyes turn into crescents when he's smiling makes your legs weak. He met you yesterday, but you know him since 3racha performed in the university’s festival last year. Since the first time you two crossed paths, everything about him, appearance wise, seemed appealing: his dark eyes, his smile, his dark curls, his broad shoulders and his muscular body. That's why you freaked out so much when he spoke to you yesterday, you never thought he would give you the time of day. So you would be dumb to reject his offer.

“Okay”, you nod, handing your phone to him. “You can put your number there, I'll text you so you can save my contact”, you say and he stares at the device for a few moments before picking it up and typing his number.

This was easier than he thought.

—

“Do you have pepper spray with you?” Your mother asks for the 30th time in the last hour.

“Yes, mom. I'm going on a date with another student, he's not a criminal”, you tell her and your father tsks.

“There are alot of students that commit crimes”, he says.

“I know”, you sigh, “don't worry, I have pepper spray, emergency numbers and I'll turn on my localization”

Your sister is watching the scene unfolding in front of her, while she chuckles.

“You shouldn't laugh, if I start dating you will go through the same thing when it's your time”, you whisper at her and she sighs.

“You're not going to this date just so I can officially date Jeongin, right?”

You grin.

“You think too highly of me, I'm not that selfless”, you hear the sound of a horn in front of your house, “I'm going on this date because he's hot”

Chan thought you were pretty in your everyday clothes but after seeing you ready for your date he just couldn't take his eyes off you. You're wearing a little sundress with thin straps holding your much too generous and low cleavage. Your hair is down and your lips are red with lipstick.

He's waiting for you outside of the car so he can open the door for you, but when you stop in front of him, he just doesn't move.

You frown, waving a hand in front of his face.

“Are you okay?” You ask and he snaps out of his daze.

“Yeah, you're just too pretty”, he tells you honestly, “I just couldn't believe I'm so lucky”

You feel your skin hotter, you're sure your whole face must be red like a tomato.

The restaurant you are going to have dinner at is a bit further than you thought, it takes at least one hour by car to get there.

“Were all the places close to the city closed?” You try making a joke and he smiles.

“Considering your personality, I thought you would like this place better”, he tells you while you go in. A person greets you two, leading you inside. There's no open space, the building is full of rooms and you're guided to one of those. There's a glass wall in the back of the room with a view to a lake and a waterfall, there's colorful lights everywhere, making it even more beautiful.

“So, when I was searching for a nice place to go on a date, I came across this one.” Chan starts speaking and you notice there's a small stove on top of the table. “There's no attendants, so we will cook our own food and only call them if we want more servings”, he explains, pulling the chair so you can sit.

“Oh”, you feel a weird feeling on your stomach, are these the butterflies your sister told you about? You never knew something like this existed and the fact that he was attentive enough to take your shyness into consideration while choosing the place of your date makes you melt inside. “Thank you”, you tell him after sitting.

You don't shut up the whole night. This is the first time you feel so comfortable with someone other than your family.

“So, you want to work with entertainment?” He asks surprised.

“Yes, I really like the whole thing about managing an artist, it sound exciting”, you smile happily, “who knows, maybe one day I can manage 3racha”

“You have heard 3racha?” Chan asks, surprised.

“I really like your music”, you tell him, “besides, everyone knows about you guys”

“Yeah, but I didn't know you knew about us”, he smiles charmingly, leaning on the table while clasping his hands. “So does that win me some points? Maybe a kiss?”

You already are red because of the wine, now you feel your whole face hot. You're already feeling a bit out of it, not drunk enough to make a bad decision but definitely drunk enough to lose a bit of your shyness.

“I don't know how to kiss”, you say simply, no further explanation.

Chan almost chokes on the air he just breathed, he didn't think you would be so blunt about it. Curiously, he finds your innocent face while saying that too enticing.

“I can help you with that”, he says, tilting his head and winking.

“Would you really?” You ask and he nods. “Like now?”

Chan didn't expect that to happen so soon, especially with someone as shy as you. But he won't refuse your offer.

“Are you done?” He asks, eagerly, standing up and you nod. Chan stretches his hand to you, waiting for you to hold it.

He takes you to his car, helping you get in and fastening your seatbelt. He's not in his right mind, not at all, he didn't even drink so why is he so excited? He doesn't think he ever felt this way about a kiss. He drives for a while, looking for the drive in movie theater he had read about while looking for the restaurant.

After fifteen minutes he parks his car behind others, there are a lot of people there to watch the movie.

You have your hands on your lap, fidgeting with your fingers nervously. It's so endearing how innocent you are.

“Would you like to take a seat?” He asks and you frown, looking around and then looking at him. You are already seated.

He tilts his head, chuckling and patting his lap. You nod so fast, it's embarrassing. He smiles, seeing you climb on top of him, legs are over the cup holder, you're using him as a literal seat.

“You never kissed anyone?” He asks, while you adjust yourself on top of him, his breath hitting your neck, making goosebumps rise all over your body. You shake your head, feeling a bit insecure, what if you are no good?

Chan bites on his lower lip, shifting a bit so you won't feel his hardening cock under you, you're just too cute, too sexy.

“Okay, I'll go slowly, we can stop anytime you want”, he tells you, brushing his hand on your arm all the way to your neck, making you close your eyes to his touch. He pulls your face closer, touching your lips with his, it's warm and soft, it feels like heaven.

He brings his other hand to your cheek, caressing. He pulls back a bit, just enough so he can speak.

“Open your mouth for me, baby”, he tells you and you obey instantly, feeling his lips back on yours. His tongue brushes against yours and you whine, lifting your hands to grab on his shoulders to steady yourself, causing your ass to rub on his cock. Chan groans, making you flinch, did you do something wrong?

He notices your hesitancy, so he slides his hand to your waist, squeezing you in reassurance.

“Are you sure you have never done this?” He asks playfully and you smile, shyly.

“Can- Can we do it again?” You whisper, making him chuckle. Dear god, would he be able to stop this with just kisses?

“Did you like kissing me, princess?” He teases, seeing you blush. Chan wraps his arm around your waist, pulling you even closer. He lands a kiss on your exposed collarbone, tracing kisses up to your neck.

“You smell so good”, he tells you before leaving a kiss on your jaw, then on your chin and finally a peck on your lips.

“Must taste even better”, he thinks, smiling to himself.

Your phone starts ringing, taking you two out of that hazy atmosphere. You feel embarrassed now, not believing you actually acted that way. Going back to your seat, you pick up the call, it's Yuna.

“Mom and dad are freaking out because you stopped moving for too long”, she whispers. Shit, you forgot your localization was turned.

“Tell them you called Chan and I'm alright, my phone just died”, you instruct her.

“Yeah, got it, just hurry”

Chan probably heard the conversation, but you still feel upset that he started the car right away and drove fast back to your home.

When you arrive in front of your house, you're not sure if you should kiss him goodnight or just wave, both are awkward options for you, so you go with the one you want the most.

You grab his arm and pull him closer to you, kissing him on the lips. Chan is quite surprised with your bold action, but he won't complain, he can't get enough of your lips.

“I will text you when I get home”, he says after pulling away and you nod.

You get out of the car and walk to your door, stealing glances at Chan. He's giggling at your antics, watching until you are safe inside your house.

He should be thankful to Jeongin, he's finally having a good time.

—

Chan is taking his mission seriously, he's texting you everyday and even stopped seeing all his fuck buddies. This is the closest he ever got to a relationship, but you're not official yet.

Especially not when you're avoiding him like the plague when it comes to meeting face to face. You answer his texts normally but he has to literally hunt you down so he can find you in this damn university and if you see him before he sees you, it's game over, you'll hide immediately and he has to begin his search all over again.

This time, though, he caught you off guard. You are at the library, seated alone, trying to focus on the book you have in your hands.

He smiles to himself, knowing you can't escape anymore. Chan leans over, caging your body with his two hands around you, gripping the table.

“I missed you, baby”, he whispers and you shiver, feeling butterflies on your stomach.

“H-hi”, you say, closing your book and taking a deep breath.

You will not try and pretend you didn't hide from him for almost a week. But that's not your fault, it's your brain's.

After Chan left you home, you ran to your room, still feeling all tingly and hot from kissing him. Since Yuna didn't come to your room you guessed she was already asleep, so you took your makeup off, took a long bath and snuggled in your nice sheets.

The thing is: you had the most lewd, filthy, awfully good dream that night. You could never even say the things Chan did to you in that dream out loud.

You woke up sweaty, heavy breathing and panties soaked, this never happened to you before.

You just couldn't look at his face after that, you felt dirty and guilty with having those thoughts about such a nice guy.

“Am I wrong or were you avoiding me?” He asks, not moving from behind you.

“No- I wasn't”, you turn around to look at him, bumping into his face too close from yours. He glances at your lips, biting his lower one and chuckles. “I was just, hm, kinda embarrassed”, you tell him, aware that he's going to know right away if you try lying.

“Embarrassed about what?” He asks, tilting his head.

“I don't know”, you look away, trying not to give in and tell him about your dream.

“I think you should come to my place so we can talk about it”, he says and you choke on your own spit, struggling to function correctly. Did he just ask you to go to his house? Just you? And him? Just the two of you?

The apartment is not far from the campus, it's a maximum twenty minutes walk. The building is nice and modern, it absolutely matches what you had imagined Chan’s place would look like.

His apartment is huge, it's not possible that he lives there alone.

“I have three roommates, Jisung and Changbin you already know and Hyunjin, he's an arts major”

“Hwang Hyunjin? I know him, he's friends with my sister”, Chan nods, he forgot your sister dates Jeongin, she probably knows his entire group of friends.

“Do you want to drink something?” He asks, looking at you while you walk around the living room, looking at every corner but not at him.

“Water is fine”, you say, looking at some pictures he has with his friends. He always has that breathtaking smile that makes all your insides turn around.

“What about watching a movie?” He asks out of nowhere, sitting on the sofa. He looks at you, an arm resting on the back of the sofa.

“Sure”, you walk to him, sitting on the far corner. Chan has to bite back a laugh so you won't feel embarrassed, do you really think it's so easy for you to get away from him?

He turns on the movie, adjusting himself on his seat. You're really trying to pay attention to what's going on on the screen, but you just can't. Not when Chan's scent is all over the place, making you remember about your dirty dream.

He knows you're restless, he can see you fidgeting by his peripheral vision.

“Are you uncomfortable?” He asks, turning his head towards you, with a smirk plastered on his lips. “Maybe you can sit here again, I'm sure you are going to like it better”, he pats on his lap.

You feel your face red.

“Stop teasing”, you mumble, pouting, “that's not nice”

He chuckles. If you're not coming to him, he has no problem going to you, so Chan slides his body closer, making you stare at him with a frown.

He raises his hand to your face, cupping it and caressing your cheek.

“Tell me you don't want this, princess, I'll stop”, he says. But you want this more than anything in the world, how could you not?

You lean a bit, trying to close the gap between your mouths. Oh, how much Chan missed your soft lips, he felt almost like going through a withdrawal staying so long without kissing you.

You learn fast, your mouth opens right away after your lips touch. In a bold move, your tongue is the one to look for his first, making him groan. He puts his right hand on your thigh, squeezing it harder than he predicted, but he didn't predict the bite you would give on his lip at that exact moment.

Chan grabs your hip, pulling you up to his lap, this time with a leg on each side of him. You're looking at him in that innocent way when all he has on his mind are the dirtiest thoughts. He caresses your thigh, sliding his hand to grab your ass and pulling you closer to him.

“Will you tell me now, why you were embarrassed? You looked pretty fine when I left you home after our date”, he asks and you blush instantly, oh, you forgot about the reason you are here. You can't tell him about your dream, you'll die of embarrassment if you do.

“It was- nothing”, you lie, avoiding his eyes. Chan noticed this already, you always look anywhere but him when you are lying to him.

Maybe he'll have to make you tell the truth.

“Really?” He says, skeptical. “Then you were just being mean? Playing with my feelings after just one date?” He's teasing, he knows you'll give in eventually, it's just a question of time.

“No, I wasn't”, you argue, with a frown on your face, your lips shut tight in a pout.

“Baby”, he calls, your legs would definitely give out if he called you like that while you were standing. “I don't like liars”

Chan slides his hands up to your ass, grabbing a handful and pulling you closer. You can already feel something hard beneath you, making you shift and adjust on his lap, involuntarily seeking some friction. Your core is aching, just by staying so close to him.

“I'm not lying, that's mean”, you try changing the subject and he chuckles.

Chan comes closer, lips brushing against yours, his breathing hitting on your mouth, everything just making the wet spot on your panties grow bigger and bigger. He kisses you, a nice and soft kiss with his tongue caressing yours gently.

Chan notices that you're moving your hips slightly, trying to feel his cock. He smiles during the kiss, pulling away while putting his hands on your hips, guiding your movements to be harder.

“Hm”, you whine, feeling his hard on giving you the friction you're looking for. His hand cups your cheek, pulling you closer into a kiss again.

You never felt this way, like ever. You did masturbate but it's different to do it with another person. It's just so good to feel Chan's touch on your skin, his breathing, his muscular arms holding you. You feel your orgasm coming, you can't believe you're going to cum by just rubbing yourself on this man.

Chan knows you're almost there, that's when he grabs your hips steadying you, not letting you move further. He earns a whine from you, an angry look on your face.

“I will only let you keep going if you tell me why you were embarrassed and avoided me”, he says cockyly and you shake your head, trying to move again but his grip on your hips is too strong.

“I don't wanna”, you tell him.

“Then, I guess you won't be cumming today”, he shrugs. “At least, not with me”, he smirks to your face becoming even redder.

“You're such a meanie”, you whine, pouting, still trying to move again but he just won't let you.

“Are you going to tell me what I want to know?” He tilts his head.

You ponder for a moment, what should you do? It's not going to end here, if you don't tell him right now, you're sure he won't let it go.

“I- I had a dream”, you start, trying to gather some courage.

“Uhm”, he nods, “what about it?” He asks curiously, feeling strangely aroused by the way you're looking around, lips pulled into a line and the way you're speaking leads him to believe you're talking about a wet dream.

“Li- like one of those dreams”, so he was right, did you have a wet dream about him? That's interesting.

“Hm, you'll have to be more specific, princess”, he pushes, “I don't think I know what you're talking about”

“I mean”, you groan, dropping your head to his shoulder so you won't feel his eyes on you. “A sex dream… with you”, you whisper.

The grin on Chan's face after you finish saying that, is priceless. He can feel his cock twitching, he's eager to know more.

“Tell me more about it”, he presses, “I really wanna know what happened in that dream that left you so embarrassed”

“Please, Chan. Don't make me say it”, you beg, but he's not having it. He likes seeing you blushing and struggling to talk dirty, it's endearing.

“No can do”, he grabs your shoulder to pull you away so he can look at your face. “I promise I'll give a nice reward if you tell me”

You nod. If he won't drop it, then you have to try and earn something over your embarrassing situation.

“I- like- you ate me out”, you start and he smiles, he would indeed love to do that. “And I s-sucked you off, it was nice”, you stumble over your words in each sentence. Chan can only feel even more turned on, your lips are so soft, he can't even picture what it would feel like to have them wrapped around him.

“Keep going, princess. You're doing great”, he reassures you. Chan loosens the grip on your hips, guiding your movements back and forth once again.

“And you said all these dirty things to me, I can't say it out loud, please”, he smirks, pulling you even closer and pressing your covered core against his cock.

“Did I tell you how good it felt to have your pretty little mouth sucking on my cock?” He asks playfully and you nod, feeling the warmth creeping in your face again while that tingly sensation grows bigger in your lower stomach.

“Did we fuck?” He asks, feeling himself getting closer to cum too.

“Yeah”, you nod frantically with your eyes closed shut. “You fucked me on all fours and in this same position too”, you tell him.

“Oh? Did you ride me? Did you like it?”

“I did”, you struggle to make your voice come out, feeling too light headed to even speak properly.

“There's something more, right, baby?” He feels his cock throbbing, he's almost at his limit.

“Yes, you- you choked me a bit, I liked that”, and that sentence was enough to make Chan reach his orgasm, being followed by you right after.

He can't believe he really did cum in his pants, like a fucking teenager. It's your fault actually, how can someone make him cum like this and still look angelic and innocent? Like you never told him he choked you and you liked it, even though it was a dream.

Chan kisses you eagerly this time, his chest is feeling hot and he feels a weird sensation on his stomach.

“You shouldn't feel embarrassed about this kind of thing”, he tells you and you nod, because it's true, “if it makes you feel better, I'm sure I had worse thoughts about you”, he smiles, seeing you blush.

“Like what?” You ask, curiously.

“Oh, I won't tell you”, he shakes his head, “you would never look at me again if you knew all the dirty things I wanna do to you”

—

Another week went by and now you were not avoiding Chan anymore. He follows you around pretty much all day at school, stealing kisses and pulling you to empty classrooms to have make out sessions.

It's time for him to meet your parents, it's not something he ever did, he never dated anyone after all. It's a Wednesday night, he brought flowers and a bottle of wine. So five minutes before the set time, he's knocking at your door.

Your sister opens up, greeting him but you're nowhere to be found until he hears your voice from upstairs.

“Is he already here?” You sound panicked and your sister giggles.

“Yes! Hurry up”, she says and Chan hears something falling and making a weird noise. It was not loud enough to be a person so he's not worried you fell, but he finds it funny to think about you nervously stumbling around.

When you show up at the top of the stairs, he has to blink a few times to actually believe you're real. You look so beautiful, showing your nice legs in a short skirt and your shoulders in a tank top.

“Hey”, you greet him, looking at the things he has in hands and he finally regains his composure.

“Hi”, he gives you a peck on the lips, “this is for you” he hands you a bouquet of red camellias.

You stop for a second, you never received flowers. Before you can answer him, your father's head is popping out of the living room.

“Why is it taking so long for you to bring this guy inside?”, he asks grumpy, he's not too happy about you dating but there's nothing he can do about it.

Chan straightens himself, walking to your father to greet him.

“Good night, sir. I'm Bang Chan”, he clears his throat when your father doesn't say a thing, just staring at him. “I brought this for you”, he shows the wine bottle and your father takes it.

“At least you have good taste”, he nods to the wine bottle Chan stole from his father's collection.

He turns around, shrugging to you and you smile, listening to your sister's chuckles. You take his hand into yours, interlacing your fingers.

In the living room there's a woman that looks too much like you and your sister to not be your mother, she smiles kindly at you two.

She's less intimidating than your father so Chan's greetings to her are less awkward this time. As time goes by, your parents warm up to him, making jokes and even telling him about your childhood.

“The night went great”, you say while walking Chan to his car. “Thank you for coming”

“Your parents are great”, he says, leaning on the door of his car. He takes your hands in his and pulls you closer, wrapping his arms around your waist. “Thank you for inviting me”

He looks so good tonight, his dark hair is carefully styled and he's wearing much more formal clothes than usual, making him look like a prince.

“Can I have a good night’s kiss?” He asks, slyly, seeing you eyeing him up. You nod, putting your hands on his chest and closing the gap between your mouths. Chan's hands slide from your waist to your ass, squeezing slightly, he can't get too into it since he won't be able to go further than a kiss tonight.

You pull away from him when you have to breathe, his lips are so inviting you could kiss him all night long.

“I will see you tomorrow”, he tells you.

There's something wrong with his heart, it's beating so fast he thinks he may be dying. After driving away from you, he calms himself a bit. It's not possible that you were the cause of that reaction, right? This is supposed to be fun, he only has to date you for a while and then break up, no strings attached. So why does he feel such hurt in his chest after thinking about leaving you?

After one more long and sleepless night Chan realized something: he is in love. This feeling snuck in so unexpectedly he didn't even notice he was falling in love. Chan never fell in love before, so he can only guess that this is how it feels to love someone.

He notices every little detail about you, he jokes around all the time waiting to hear you laugh about something he says. Chan likes the way you smell, the way you smile, the way you just look at him so focused while he is speaking. He is in love with your personality, your cleverness, your kindness, your beauty is just a bonus that makes him even more in love with you.

He wants to confess to you, ask you to be his girlfriend, to never leave him.

He even asked for your sister's help to make something for you, maybe a song, he can definitely make something beautiful and romantic for you. Maybe he can cook too, he wants to make you feel appreciated.

He's waiting for your class to finish, seated on the bench in front of the classroom while scrolling through his phone.

He feels someone sitting by his side and before he can look, a kiss lands onto his cheek. Chan puts his hand on his face, blushing and you laugh seeing his reaction. You two did much more than just a kiss on the cheek, why is he embarrassed about it?

“Did you miss me?” You ask him and he rolls his eyes.

“Of course I did”, he grabs your hand, interlacing your fingers. “Should we go to my place?” He asks and you nod, standing up, pulling him to get up too.

It's still a bit weird that you two are together, you never thought liking someone as much as you like Chan could actually happen to you, you could even say you're in love. The only thing that still makes you doubtful is the fact that he didn't ask you to be his girlfriend yet, you have been going out for a month and you do everything together, so why hasn't he made it official?

You still have many questions in your mind, sitting on Chan's bed while he makes popcorn and you choose the movie you're watching tonight.

He enters the room, closing the door and turning off the lights, two water bottles and a huge bowl in his hands.

“What movie did you choose?” He asks, but you can't hear it, your mind is too loud. “Y/N? Are you alright?” He asks, snapping you out of your thoughts.

“Are we exclusive?” You ask out of nowhere, ripping the air out of his lungs.

“Yes”, he says firmly, “do you want to be with other people?”

Chan asked that, but he's holding his breath until you answer him, hoping you're going to deny. For a moment, you don't say a thing and seeing you hesitate makes his heart ache.

“No, I-” you try speaking, trying not to sound ridiculous, “I want to be exclusive, I just don't know if you want that”

Chan takes a deep breath, putting the things he has in hands on the nightstand.

“Of course, I want to”, he takes your hand into his, bringing it to his mouth so he can kiss the palm. He's feeling guilty, he's taking his time preparing a nice confession but you're feeling insecure. “I'm sorry I made you feel like I didn't want things to get more serious”, he climbs on the bed, getting closer to you, “let me show you that you're the only one I want, hum? Can I?”

You suck on your teeth, knowing exactly what is about to happen but you just can't say no to him, let's be real, you don't want to say no to him. So you nod, making him smile.

Chan is eager to have you, he has been for weeks, just waiting for you to be ready to give yourself to him. He cups your face, pulling you closer and kissing you.

He helps you lay down on the bed, towering over you while landing kisses down your neck. You feel him biting on your shoulder and he brings his hands to the hem of your shirt, pulling it up. His hands travel around your body, making you hotter.

“You're so pretty, princess”, he says, kissing your chest. You whine, he's taking too much time to get to the place you want the most.

“Channie”, you whisper, “please, touch me”, you ask him.

His smile grows bigger as he mumbles “your wish is my command”. Chan unbuttons your pants, pulling them down your legs, throwing it someplace in the room.

He slides his hand down to your core, your underwear is soaked. He pulls your panties down your legs and brushes a finger along your folds, collecting the wetness before inserting a finger inside, you arch your back to the feeling. It's delicious, but it hurts a bit. It's different from how it feels doing it alone.

“Is this okay?” He asks and you nod. “You're such a good girl, baby, all wet and ready for me.” He whispers, getting closer to your face again. I'm going to put another one”, he tells you. The sensation it's too much already, his fingers are too much.

“Chan”, you moan, “I'm gonna cum if you keep doing that”

“Oh? But I didn't even get to the better part”, he answers pressing his thumb on your clit, making circles.

“Fuck”, you whine.

His smirk grows while he keeps the movement of back and forth inside of you. Before he can tease you more, your legs are shaking and your tight hole is clenching around his fingers. You put your hand on your mouth, covering it so you won't make a loud sound, but he doesn't like that. He wants to hear how well he's fucking you.

“Let's not do that, okay? I want you to be loud, want to hear you scream my name” He says, pulling his fingers out of you and sliding them on his mouth. He comes closer, kissing your neck and face, helping you calm down after your orgasm.

Goosebumps rise all over your body, his kisses feel like fire on your skin, you thought you'd feel less horny after cumming, but you're still so turned on.

Chan kisses your chest, opening your bra. You feel embarrassed when he sees you completely naked.

“You're still dressed”, you point out, face red.

He gets out of the bed immediately, taking his shirt off and his pants too, crawling back to you in only his underwear. His cock is hard, outlined by the thin fabric of his boxers.

You feel the urge to touch him, maybe taste it. So you grab his length, making him groan.

“What are you doing, princess?” He asks, eyes closed from the pleasure of having your beautiful hands wrapped around him.

��I want to make you feel good”, you tell him, pushing his chest and making him fall on his back on the bed. You kiss his neck the same as he was doing to you, suddenly feeling possessive and sucking on the skin, leaving a few hickeys there.

You go down, kissing his chest and stomach, getting closer and closer to his throbbing cock. You pull his underwear down and his cock spring on your face.

“I just- you need to teach me”, you tell him. How can you look at him with such innocence in your eyes when you're about to suck him off?

“Hold the base”, he instructs, “now you can go up and down with your hand.”

He feels your movements, making him groan. You are bolder than he gives you credit for, since you lick the head of his cock without being told to. You wrap his dick with your mouth, waiting for the next command.

“You can go up and down, princess, yes, like that” he moans, feeling his cock being embraced by your warm mouth.

Chan feels like exploding any time now, weeks of pent-up sexual tension being released. He sees you rubbing yourself on his bed while sucking on him, that just makes him crazier, he wants to make you feel good now, he can let you do the same for him another time.

“Baby”, you hear him say and you stop your movements. “I won't be able to last long with your soft mouth doing that, I need to feel you around my cock”

You nod, letting go of his cock and climbing up, stopping on top of Chan.

“I wanna be on top”, you say confidently.

“Let's do it slowly okay? I don't want to hurt you”, Chan tells you and you agree.

He grabs the base of his cock, brushing the head on your folds, trying to wet it enough to make it easier for you.

It feels like heaven when his cock finally slides inside of you, you're so tight he feels like he can cum at any moment.

Chan sees the pain in your eyes, he doesn't move, “do you want to stop?” He asks worriedly, putting his hands on your hips to stop you from moving but you shake your head.

You keep pushing it in, trying to relax. Chan kisses you, massaging your breasts to help you relax a bit.

When the painful part is gone and you're feeling all the good sensations back, you don't think you can stop, it's too addictive. You start riding on him freely, hands taking support on his chest and head thrown back, the pleasure is just too much, you'll be coming soon.

“Fuck, you look so good riding me, princess”, he says, feeling his own high almost catching him.

“Oh, Channie, I'm gonna cum”, you whine, fastening the movements of your hips, “please, oh, your cock feels so good”

For someone who couldn't talk about a wet dream a few weeks ago you sure talk dirty in real life, Chan chuckles, feeling you clenching around him and when you squeeze his cock for the last time he cums too, filling you up.

You collapse on top of him, breathing heavily. Your eyes are heavy, you're not sure if you can stay awake. Chan caresses your back and plays with your hair, making you fall fast asleep.

You wake up feeling just a bit sore. You're on cloud nine, the night was amazing. When you open your eyes, there's no one in the bed with you. You wrap yourself in the blankets trying to find and collect all your clothes scattered around the room.

The delicious smell that embraces your nose the moment you step out of the room, is enough to make you drool.

Chan is in the kitchen, dressed in nothing but sweatpants and an apron. That's right, he's shirtless. You're feeling bold today, so you get closer to him wrapping your arms around his waist in a back hug.

He lets out a laugh, putting his hand over yours and turning off the stove. He turns around, hugging you.

“Did you sleep well?” He asks, kissing your forehead and you nod, snuggling in his embrace.

“Why didn't you wake me earlier? I woke up missing you”

“Ow, my baby is so needy”, he teases, making you pout. “I was making you, breakfast”

“Hm”, you look at what he was cooking.

“How are you feeling?” He asks, a bit worried, it was your first time after all.

“I'm doing great”, you smile, “just a bit sore, but it's nothing”

He nods, putting his hands on your shoulders and turning you around.

“I'm happy to hear that”, he kisses the top of your head, guiding you to take a seat on the table. “Let's eat so we can go for another round then”, he smirks.

—

“Jeongin is coming here today?” You ask your sister and she nods frantically while fixing her hair.

“He's coming to ask dad's permission to date me”, she giggles excitedly.

“Alright”, you smile seeing your sister so happy.

You're the one opening the door for Jeongin while your sister is getting ready, he's clearly nervous but he's trying to keep his smile.

“Hey!” You give space for him to enter, “Yuna is almost done”

He nods, looking around. Your sister comes down minutes later, leading Jeongin to the living room.

Your father is less hostile to him than he was to Chan, maybe it's because Jeongin is adorable.

After an hour of conversation, you go upstairs, you have a date tonight and need to get ready.

The memories from your night with Chan flood your mind making you giggle and kick your feet, they have been your most cherished thoughts lately. It's a struggle but you finally end your bath after probably an hour.

You walk back to your room, you're already late. However, you stop in front of your sister's room when you hear voices being a little bit too loud.

“You did what, Jeongin?” your sister's voice is a pitch higher than usual.

“I didn't think things would get out of hand”, Jeongin answers, are they fighting?

“In what world did you think that was a good idea?”

“I was desperate, I'm not proud of that”, he answers back.

“There's no excuse for you to ask Bangchan to date my sister”, she tries speaking lower but you still can hear them. Your whole world crumbles with that one sentence, what does she mean by that?

“I didn't do it to be mean, I know how hard it is for your sister to get to meet new people, I thought it would benefit the both of us”, he tries explaining. Your heart is beating too fast, the throbbing in your ears grows stronger and your legs are giving out.

“How am I supposed to tell her now? She is so happy” Yuna cries out. “Don't come any closer, get out of here”, you panic instantly, they can't see you there. But you're too slow, when you finally manage to move Jeongin is swinging the door open. He stops on his tracks, turning white on the spot.

“Y/N-”, he tries to speak, but you run to your room before he can say anything else.

You can't believe this is actually happening to you, you thought that someone finally liked you but everything was a lie? That's not possible, right?

You are going to go to Chan, you two have a date, and he is going to tell you that Jeongin is lying, that he was just joking.

The uber to Chan's apartment doesn't seem to show up fast enough and the ride there couldn't be slower. You're restless, fidgeting with your fingers and shaking your legs.

You pay the man, practically running out of the car and running upstairs. The person who opens the door is not Chan but Changbin, you met him a few times when you were visiting the apartment.

“Hey, y/n”, Changbin greets you. “Chan is not home, but he will be here soon, I heard you have a date”, he says, letting you in.

“I'm going to wait for him in his room”, you tell him, too disturbed to worry about proper manners.

You walk back and forth in the room, anxiously waiting for Chan's arrival. You hear his voice after twenty minutes, he's talking to his friend in the living room when Changbin tells him you're there.

You can hear the fast footsteps leading to where you are, you take a deep breath, trying not to cry.

“Hey, baby”, Chan smiles at you, dropping his bag on the floor and walking towards you with open arms. “Did something happen?” He stops, noticing your face.

You stare at him for a minute, brows knit together and eyes trying to find the least bit of sincerity in the time you two spent together.

“Did you ask me out as a favor to Jeongin?” You ask and his standing falter, how did you find out?

“L-let me explain”, he says, taking a step closer to you.

“So you did”, you feel the tears trying to escape from your eyes.

“Please, just… just hear what I have to say”, he asks, trying to hold your hand, but you pull away from him.

“I don't want to hear a thing from you”, you tell him, running your hands through your hair.

It really was all a lie. How could you be so dumb?

You walk past him, trying to get out of the room, go anywhere but there. But Chan grabs your arm, making you stop in your tracks.

“Please, don't leave”, he begs. You feel a pang in your chest, but it doesn't make a difference since you're already hurting too much.

“You have no right to ask me that”, you pull your arm out of his grasp and walk out of the apartment.

It would be too humiliating to enter the uber while bawling your eyes out, so you decide to walk. You walk for a long time before your feet start hurting and your eyes are burning from how much you cried. You can't believe you really let yourself fall pray to such a scheme, you thought you were smarter than that.

It's obvious you only fell for it because it's Chan, you were attracted to him since the first time you laid eyes on him. You try to believe that it wouldn't be that easy to trick you if it was anyone else.

After at least two hours, you finally reach your house and you're feeling utterly miserable. You greet your parents and walk upstairs, anxiously searching for your room so you can finally let yourself fall and cry as much as you can.

Your sister is seated on your bed, biting on her nails. She stands up as soon as she sees you.

“I'm really sorry”, she says, teary.

You sigh, feeling the weight on your chest even heavier.

“It's not your fault”, you tell her. You start to undress, looking for your pajamas so you can snuggle on your bed until all of this passes.

“I shouldn't have started dating before you”, she whines.

“I don't blame you, so stop doing that to yourself”, you say, even though you feel a bit of resentment because Jeongin likes her truly, he likes her because she's her. Of course no one's going to like you, you're… you.

“But”, she bites on her lower lip, not sure if she should say this, “I think Chan really likes you-”, she stops talking when you give her the meanest glare you ever threw in someone's way.

“I don't want to hear it”, you say.

“He even asked help so he could confess to you in a way you would like”, she continues.

“I'm not going to repeat myself”, you say and your sister knows that tone too well, it's better for her to stay silent for the time being. “If you're done, I would like to be alone”

Yuna nods, glancing at you all the way to the door.

You collapse on your bed, finally able to cry your eyes out without people looking at you in a weird way. This is the moment you realize how much you love Bang Chan, the pain you're feeling is greater than anything you ever felt in your whole life, you truly don't think you'll be able to survive this.

Chan is an idiot, he knows this and you are right to never look at his face again. But even though he knows you're right, he can't accept the thought of you leaving him.

He tried calling and texting you, you blocked him. He tried talking to your sister, she cursed him out and told him to leave you alone. She and Jeongin are on bad terms right now but they didn't break up yet.

He tried to find you in the university, but you didn't show up for the entire week, he just doesn't know what to do.

“You are an idiot”, Hyunjin says after listening to the whole story, “you should have told her about it while you still had time”

“I didn't know I was in love”, Chan runs his hands through his hair, “not until it was too late”

His friend sighs, he just can't see Chan like that anymore. He's just miserable, he looks like he's dying and Hyunjin doesn't doubt it could actually happen at this point.

So as a good friend, he takes this matter into his own hands and calls your sister, trying to convince her to listen to Chan and maybe forgive Jeongin too, Hyunjin is tired of him whining all day long.

“Did you really call me here for this?”, Yuna asks, ready to grab her things and go home.

“Hear me out, okay?” He says. “I know what they did was wrong but they regret it, Jeongin even told you about it”

She huffs, crossing her arms.

“He told me because I was talking about how Chan wanted to ask y/n to be his girlfriend”, she says. “He felt guilty, he would have never told me about it otherwise”

“Chan really likes y/n, he really wants to be with her”

Yuna sighs, she knows that. There was no way Chan could fake the way he looked at you.

“She's not going to believe that”, Yuna says, “y/n is heartbroken, she's not even going to her classes. She just stays in her room all day, crying’

“There's nothing better to fix her broken heart then”, Hyunjin points out, “let's help them meet, they can talk things out that way”

“She doesn't want to see him”, Yuna sighs, “but I do think this is the best solution”

“Okay, I'll text you the day and time, just bring y/n, Chan will take care of the rest”

Yuna nods, collecting her things but before she can stand up, Hyunjin's voice sounds again.

“About Jeongin-”, he starts, but she cuts him off right away.

“This whole mess started because of Jeongin”, she takes a deep breath, “after y/n and Chan resolve this matter I'll see what I'm going to do about him”

Yuna turns around, leaving Hyunjin there. At least he got Chan a chance, he can't save everyone.

Chan can't take it anymore, he has to see you. So he musters all the courage he has and goes to your house. It doesn't help that it's 2 a.m. so everyone is sleeping, except you it seems, since there's light coming from your room.

He begins throwing rocks at your window, trying to make you notice him and after a few tries he sees your face popping out.

Chan wishes he didn't come at all, your face is puffy so he knows you have been crying and the way you're looking at him, it's just awful, he feels despicable. More than he has felt all this time without you.

“What do you want?” You ask, at least you didn't ignore him.

“Can you come down for a bit?”

You sigh, you don't actually want to, but you're afraid he'll make too much noise trying to convince you to go down and wake up the neighbors or even worse, your parents.

You close the window, he knew it would be hard, that you wouldn't want to see him. Before he can turn around and walk away, Chan hears the sound of the front door opening.

You are in your pajamas, holding yourself trying to protect your body from the cold air.

You stop in your tracks, looking at him with an intense gaze, like you can read all his thoughts and know about all his mistakes.

“How have you been?” He asks and you scoff.

“Are you here to survey my mood? I have been feeling like shit, what about you?” He remembers the first time he talked to you, how he wished to see you mad, now he regrets that. He never wanted to see you mad at him.

“I'm not well either”, he says.

You sigh.

“Now that we know how each other is feeling, you can go”, you tell him.

“Can you let me explain?” He pleads.

“Did you start dating me as a favor for Jeongin?” You ask and he sighs, nodding. “That's all I need to know, I would appreciate it if you don't come looking for me anymore”, you say, turning around and going back inside. Tears start running down your face while you go back to your room, when will this pain subside?

—

You are finally back at school, after moping around all day at home for an entire week, you decided it was time to get back to your life. Staying at home just made you feel worse, you didn't have a thing to distract yourself so you ended up thinking about Chan the whole time. That only weakened your resolve to forget about him, you avoided coming to school because you knew you would give in if he tried to approach you.

Your day goes by fast enough and you just want to go home to lay on your bed. You feel your phone buzzing, it's a message from Jeongin. You were so angry with Chan that you forgot to block him.

He should be begging to meet Yuna, so why is he asking to meet you? Maybe he wants your help to fix things between them.

You don't know why you decided to meet him, maybe it's curiosity to know why he did such a thing to you or maybe you want to look at his face and curse at him.

He arrives at the cafe at the set time, looking around for you and walking towards you when his eyes lock with yours.

“Hey”, he says, sitting in front of you. You don't say anything back, not in the mood to be polite.

Jeongin sighs, he expected this much.

“I wanted to talk with you about this whole situation, believe me I didn't mean to hurt you even though it ended up happening in the end-”

“I considered you my friend”, you say making him stop talking.

“I- I'm”, he says, voice a pitch higher.

“Friends don't do what you did”, you say and he nods.

“I know it was an ill executed plan, but my intentions weren't bad, I swear”, he tells you.

“And do your intentions matter if I was the one hurt in the end?” You ask, angrier now.

“No”, he answers. “I'm truly sorry, I swear, I just caught you staring at Chan more than once. I thought this would be good for us both but I was clearly wrong”

You huff, exhausted. You start collecting your things to go home but you hear Jeongin's voice once more.

“Chan really likes you, he fell in love with you”, he says and your heart skips a beat, it shouldn't be behaving like this, not after the heartbreak you are going through.

“I don't care, he lost his chance”, you answer firmly, even though you know it's not true.

“Are you sure?” Jeongin asks, “are you sure you won't regret it? Not let him explain or not hearing him out?”

You glance at him once more, before standing up and walking out of the cafe.

Your mid terms are finally over, that means, you don't have anything to study so you're stuck with your thoughts. Your phone buzzes in your pocket, it's a message from Yuna, asking you to meet her in the arts department.

You reply, saying you'll be there in a moment. What is she even doing there? She's a business major.

The arts department is not far from yours, but it's emptier than you are used to. She asked you to meet in the first classroom of the second floor.

When you open the door, the first thing you see is Bang Chan. He looks awful, worse than you even.

You try going back, but he already saw you, so he stands up, coming closer.

“Don't leave, I'll do anything just… don't leave”

He's pale, and the eyebags he normally has are darker than usual.

“Are you sick?” You ask, worried. It's not like you can stop loving him in such a short period of time, of course you're worried.

“No”, he says, “I mean, I'm not feeling well, but I don't think I have an illness”

You nod, feeling awkward. It's been a while since you felt this way about him.

“Okay, then I'll get going”, you say trying to leave, but his voice stops you.

“I love you”, he is desperate, you can hear it in his voice. However, you're too petty.

“This was part of Jeongin’s plan too?”, you scoff, seeing his lips trembling.

He takes a deep breath, he deserves that, he knows he does.

“I really started going out with you because Jeongin asked”, he starts explaining, “but I fell in love with you, for real”

You feel your heart ache once more, he's about to cry, you can see it. But you're not sure if you can forgive him, even if what he's telling you is true.

“I don't believe you”, you say, shrugging, trying to hold your own tears.

“I will do anything to prove it to you, just say what I need to do for you to believe me”, he says, taking a step closer to you.

“I'm not sure if I'll be able to forget this or even forgive you, Chan”, you sigh, letting your heart speak and not your anger.

“I know I messed up, I don't deserve you I know that too”, he grabs your hand, “but please, I'll prove to you that I deserve a second chance, I'll earn back your trust”, he pleads.

You sigh, even after all this, it seems you still can't say no to him.

“I'm going to need some time”, you say slowly, “but I will give you a second chance, you better not ruin it”, you say.

Chan can't believe you're really going to try and forgive him, he can't ask for anything more.

“I won't disappoint you this time, I promise”, he says, kissing the palm of your hand, the same way he did before.

“Let's see about that”, you sigh, feeling your heart beating fast once again.

You may be making a stupid choice, but you'll only learn by making mistakes. You just sure hope this is not one.