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skzophreniic · 3 days ago

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Numb to the Feeling

MDNI, 18+ content.

𐙚˙⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩 Heard you got a heart, let me see/I need you to split that thing with me

featuring: ex!boyfriend changbin x afab reader, rebound!jisung, bestfriend!seungmin

genre: smut with plot

notes: part two of skzxchase atlantic songs! this one is inspired by numb to the feeling but i think i kinda strayed from it a little whoops.

warnings: toxic relationship. semi-public sex. illegal drug use, alcohol use. self destructive behavior. i am in no way condoning or romanticizing any of these actions, it's just a work of fiction. DO NOT TAKE DRUGS. if you, or any of your loved ones suffer with addiction please click here.

The party hums around you, all blurred lights and slurred voices, but it barely reaches you. The Xanax pulls everything under, softens the edges, turns the noise into something distant and unimportant.

You’re draped across Jisung, legs tangled with his on the couch, the warmth of his body pressed into your side. He’s talking—he’s always talking—words spilling from his lips in a bright, endless stream of whatever thought crosses his mind.

You only catch pieces of it.

“—and then Minho was like, ‘Jisung, if you break another controller, I’m kicking you out,’ but obviously, it wasn’t my fault—”

His voice rises and falls, full of animated gestures, his hands moving as if he can’t contain all the energy buzzing under his skin. He’s grinning, dimples carving deep into his cheeks, eyes crinkling with laughter even though you barely said anything at all.

Jisung is easy.

He makes things easy.

He doesn’t ask why your smile doesn’t quite reach your eyes or why your fingers feel too light against his wrist, like you’re not really there. He just lets you exist beside him, lets you slip into the warmth of his presence without asking for anything in return.

Except, you think, maybe he does.

His fingers brush over your bare thigh absentmindedly, featherlight, like he’s testing the weight of his touch. His knee nudges yours, lingers. His laughter softens as he looks at you, eyes tracing the shape of your face like he’s memorizing it.

“You’re so pretty,” he murmurs suddenly, and it’s so gentle, so earnest, that it makes something twist in your chest.

You exhale slowly, letting your head tip against the couch, letting the drug drag you further down.

“Don’t say things like that,” you murmur, voice lilting, almost lazy.

Jisung pouts. “Why not? It’s true.”

You don’t answer.

Because if you do, he might say something softer. He might tilt his head and ask what’s wrong. He might lace his fingers through yours and tell you he’s not going anywhere, that he’d stay if you let him, that he could be everything for you.

And you don’t want to hear it.

You slip your fingers through his instead, squeezing lightly, just enough to make him smile again. Just enough to keep him where you need him—right here, right now, filling the silence with something easy, something warm.

Even if it doesn’t reach you.

Jisung brightens at the small squeeze of your fingers, his grin widening, his body shifting just a little closer, like he thinks you want him to.

Maybe you do.

Maybe you don’t.

It doesn’t really matter.

“I knew you liked me,” he teases, dimples deep, voice curling around the words like he’s savoring them. “You act all cool and mysterious, but I see right through you.”

His knee nudges yours again, deliberate this time, playful. He’s watching you closely, waiting for your reaction.

You hum, noncommittal, tilting your head against the couch. The room is tilting with you, slow and syrup-thick.

Jisung sighs, dramatic. “God, you’re so gone, aren’t you?”

You smile, barely. “And you’re so loud.”

He gasps, clutching at his chest. “Wow. Hurtful. Do you even like me?”

The joke hangs between you, warm and harmless. But for a second—just a second—you think you see something else in his expression, something softer, something real.

It makes your stomach turn.

You untangle your legs from his, shifting, suddenly restless. The warmth of him is too much now, his presence pressing in, his affection curling around you like a weighted blanket, thick and suffocating.

“I need a drink,” you mumble, already pushing yourself up.

Jisung blinks, startled by the sudden movement, but he recovers fast. “Want me to come with?”

You shake your head, not trusting yourself to say no without giving something away.

“Stay,” you murmur instead, resting a hand on his shoulder for just a second, just enough to keep the moment easy, to keep him from seeing the way your pulse has picked up, the way something in your chest is starting to ache.

Jisung watches you go, his smile still lingering at the corners of his mouth, but something else flickers in his eyes.

And then you step into the crowd, and the weight of him disappears.

Only to be replaced by something heavier.

By someone else.

The kitchen is dimly lit, the overhead bulb flickering weakly against the haze of smoke curling through the air. The counters are cluttered with half-empty bottles, sticky red cups, crumpled napkins. Someone leans against the fridge, laughing too loudly, and the bass of the music rattles against your ribs.

You press through the bodies, fingers trailing absently over the countertop, reaching for the nearest bottle of something dark, something bitter. It doesn’t really matter what.

The glass is cool against your palm, grounding, and you tip it back without thinking, the burn slicing through the fog of the Xanax for just a moment—just long enough for you to feel it.

And then, before you can put the bottle down, before you can exhale, there’s a shift in the air.

A shadow at your side. A presence curling close.

Familiar.

Unshakable.

“Drinking on top of that shit?”

The voice is low, rough, curling at the edges like smoke, like something burned out and smoldering.

Your stomach tightens.

Slowly, you lower the bottle, fingers tightening around the glass, resisting the instinct to turn around.

But he doesn’t wait for you to.

Changbin moves in first, stepping into your space like he belongs there, like he always has. The heat of him presses against your side, solid and steady, so different from the featherlight warmth of Jisung, so much heavier.

His eyes flicker down, tracking the movement of your throat as you swallow, as if he can see the way the liquor settles in your bloodstream, mixing with everything else.

“You know that’s a bad idea, right?”

You finally turn to face him.

And for the first time tonight, the numbness wavers.

The bottle is slipping in your hand, condensation slick against your palm, but you don’t move to fix it. Not when he’s this close. Not when the air between you is thick with everything you haven’t said.

Changbin looks at you like he knows you. Like he always has.

And that’s the problem, isn’t it?

His gaze flickers, slow—over the shape of your mouth, the exposed line of your throat, the slight unsteadiness in your fingers. He catches the way your eyes look past him, darting to the kitchen doorway–your escape. His jaw tightens, just barely.

“You gonna run again?” His voice is low, rough. Almost tired.

Your stomach twists.

You lift your chin, forcing a smile. “I’m not running.”

His expression doesn’t change, but something about him does—something in the way his fingers flex against the counter, like he wants to reach for you, like he almost does.

Then, quieter—like he doesn’t even mean to say it:

“Feels like you always are.”

Your throat goes tight.

He exhales, slow. His tongue swipes over his bottom lip, like he’s thinking—like he’s trying to find the right words, but when his gaze finds yours again, there’s nothing hesitant about it.

"You left Jisung sitting there waiting for you."

You already see it—Jisung, knee bouncing, fingers twisting at a loose thread in his jeans, his smile still there but smaller now. Waiting. Hoping. Something small twists in your chest, but you shove it down, down, down where you always do. “He’ll be fine.”

Changbin huffs a breath, shaking his head. “Cold.”

But there’s no bite to it. No real judgment. Just something heavier. Something aching.

Like he’s used to it.

Like he still hasn’t let himself stop caring.

The realization makes your fingers tighten around the bottle. You don’t want that from him. You don’t want that kind of tenderness, that kind of understanding.

You want him to let you go.

You need him to let you go.

Because you don’t know how to let go of him.

“You don’t have to do this,” you murmur, voice quieter now. “Check in on me. Worry about me.”

His jaw clenches. His throat works around a swallow.

Then, softly—almost fragile in the way he says it:

“I don’t know how to stop.”

The air thickens.

Your pulse pounds—a slow, aching thud, deep in your ribs.

Changbin shifts closer, breath warm as it ghosts over your cheek, his fingers brushing yours—just barely, just enough to feel it, just enough to make your body ache with how easy it would be to grab hold and never let go.

“I don’t fucking know how to stop.”

Your breath catches.

Because he says it like it hurts. Like it’s killing him. Like he’s spent every second since you walked away trying to carve you out of himself and failing, failing, failing.

Your fingers twitch around the bottle, unsteady, your body drawn toward him in a way that feels inevitable, inescapable. Like gravity. Like a force you have no power against.

And maybe you don’t.

Maybe you never did.

Your pulse is a drumbeat, a frantic, erratic rhythm against your ribs. The taste of whiskey lingers on your tongue, warm and burning, but Changbin’s closer now, and he smells like something heavier, something richer. Like leather and smoke and something achingly familiar.

Something you used to call home.

You should say something. You should step back. You should turn and walk away before this goes too far—before you do something reckless, something irreversible.

But then his fingers ghost over yours again, just barely, and that’s all it takes.

You turn at the same time he does, and your mouths crash together.

It’s not soft. It’s not gentle. It’s teeth and tongues and desperation, the kind of kiss that tastes like regret and whiskey and everything you can’t say. His hands find your hips, gripping, dragging you against him like he needs to feel every inch of you, like he needs to remind himself that you’re real, that you’re here, that you still fit against him the way you always have.

You whimper into his mouth, the sound swallowed by the heat of him, by the way his fingers dig into your waist like he’s afraid you’ll slip away. But you’re not going anywhere. Not this time. Not when the world is tilting and you can’t tell where you end and he begins.

The party is still raging around you, but it barely registers. The music, the voices, the bodies moving in the dim haze of the kitchen—all of it fades, slipping into the background, because the only thing that matters is this. Him. The way he groans when you fist your fingers in his shirt, pulling him closer, closer, closer until there’s nothing between you.

“Fuck,” he mutters against your lips, breathless. His forehead presses against yours, his hands trembling where they clutch at your hips. “Tell me to stop.”

You don’t.

You drag him with you instead, stumbling through the crowd, through the hallway, through the door of the first empty room you can find.

And then you’re on him again, or maybe he’s on you, and it doesn’t matter, because you’re both starving. Because his mouth is on your throat, sucking, biting, marking. Because your hands are shoving under his shirt, feeling the heat of his skin, the way his muscles flex under your touch.

Because this is what you know.

This is where you both fall apart.

The door slams shut behind you, rattling in its frame, but neither of you care. Not when your back hits the wall, not when Changbin’s hands are everywhere—your waist, your thighs, your jaw, tilting your head just the way he wants.

“God,” he breathes, voice rough, half-wrecked already. “I fucking—”

He cuts himself off with a kiss, like he’s trying to swallow the words before they slip, before they make this more than just a mistake in the dark. But you feel it anyway, in the way his hands shake, in the way his teeth scrape over your bottom lip like he wants to ruin you, like he wants to remind you that no one else can have you like this.

His hands slide up your thighs, gripping, lifting—he doesn’t even have to tell you to wrap your legs around his waist because you already are, already gasping into his mouth when he presses you harder against the wall, the thick weight of him slotting perfectly between your thighs.

Your nails dig into his shoulders, and he groans at the sting, at the way your hips roll against his, desperate, searching. You should say something sharp, something cutting, something to break the tension curling thick in the air, but you can’t. You don’t have the breath.

Not when he’s grinding against you like that. Not when his hands are shoving up your dress, fingers skimming over bare skin, his breath hot and ragged in your ear.

“Tell me you missed me,” he groans, voice raw, rough, breaking just slightly at the edges. “Tell me you—”

You cut him off with your mouth, biting at his lower lip, dragging him closer, closer, like you can stop him from asking things you don’t want to answer.

His fingers slip between your thighs, pressing against the damp heat of your underwear, and he groans, head falling forward against your shoulder.

Your head tips back against the wall, lips parting on a soft, needy sound as he rubs slow, teasing circles over the fabric, dragging out your desperation.

“Been fucking him?” he murmurs, lips brushing the curve of your jaw, his fingers still torturously light between your legs. “Jisung?”

Your breath hitches.

Your body jolts with it, that name, the way Changbin spits it like it leaves a bad taste in his mouth. Your fingers tighten in his hair, tugging. “Don’t.”

He laughs, rough and bitter, and presses his fingers harder against you, two thick digits pressing firm over the damp lace. You gasp, nails sinking into his shoulders, but he’s relentless, rolling his wrist in slow, torturous circles, like he’s trying to coax the answer out of you with his hands alone.

“Don’t?” he echoes, dragging his mouth down your throat, sucking a mark into your skin like he needs to brand himself into you. “Don’t what? Don’t ask?”

He bites, sharp enough to make you whimper, sharp enough that your back arches away from the wall. He catches you easily, pressing you back down with the weight of his body alone, keeping you right where he wants you—between him and something solid, nowhere to run.

“Don’t bring him into this,” you breathe, but it’s weak, and you both know it.

Changbin stills for half a second, his breath heavy against your skin. Then, he drags his fingers down, down, pushing your panties aside, running a slow, teasing stroke through your folds. You shudder.

His voice is quieter now. Darker. “What? You got a heart now?”

His words sink deep, curling low in your stomach, hot and aching. You want to shove him away. You want to pull him closer. You want to say something sharp, something to cut as deep as he does, but all that comes out is a broken little sound as he presses two fingers inside you, slow and deliberate, stretching you open with that same brutal patience he always has when he wants to make you come undone.

Your nails scrape down his back, desperate, and he groans, rocking his hips into yours like he can’t help himself, like this is torture for him too.

"Feels like you missed me," he murmurs against your skin, his fingers curling inside you, hitting that spot that makes your whole body jolt.

You clench around him, thighs tightening around his waist, and he laughs—low and wrecked, like he’s just as far gone as you are.

"I—" Your voice catches, breaks. Your body is betraying you, rocking into every stroke, every roll of his wrist, every dirty, possessive press of his lips against your throat. "I hate you."

Changbin groans, shoving his fingers deeper, his thumb dragging slick circles over your clit. "Liar."

And maybe you are.

Your head tips back against the wall with a soft thud, breath coming in short, uneven gasps as his fingers work you open, unrelenting, knowing.

Maybe you are a liar. Maybe you have a heart. Maybe it only beats like this—frantic, desperate—when he’s the one touching you, when he’s the one tearing you apart like you belong to him.

Your hands slide up his arms, nails biting into the thick muscle of his biceps as he fucks you open on his fingers, slow but deliberate, every movement dripping with something you don’t want to name.

"You still thinking about him?" His voice is lower now, rougher, like it’s costing him something to ask. His mouth is hot against your jaw, his teeth scraping the skin. "Still thinking about Jisung while you’re dripping all over my fucking hand?"

You don’t answer. You can’t.

Your throat is too tight, your breath too ragged, your body too wound up and strung out on the way his fingers fuck into you—slow, deliberate, merciless.

But silence is still an answer.

Changbin’s jaw clenches. You feel it against your throat, where his lips had been, where his teeth had pressed down like a warning, a brand. He hates this. Hates that he even had to ask. Hates that somewhere, in the dark, rotten part of him that only ever comes out when it’s about you, he actually wonders.

His fingers don’t stop—not yet.

Maybe they should. Maybe he should pull away and let you feel the loss of him, let you suffer for making him doubt even for a second, for breaking up with him after three years–three fucking years. But he’s weak when it comes to you, and you’re so fucking wet, so tight around his fingers, and he’s too far gone to punish himself like that.

Instead, he curls his fingers deeper, watches your mouth fall open, watches your body betray you.

His fingers drive into you harder, rough and unrelenting, dragging slick sounds from between your thighs, forcing them out of you like a confession. Your hips jerk against his hand, desperate for more, but he keeps the pace steady, keeps you on the edge without letting you tip over.

Your hands clutch at him, curling into the fabric of his shirt, but he doesn’t care. He’s too caught up in the way you look like this—ruined and helpless, completely at his mercy.

"Shouldn't even be touching you," he says, voice rough with something that sounds like self-hatred. "Shouldn’t even fucking want to."

But he does.

God, he does.

It's in the way his fingers keep working inside you, curling, pressing, dragging you open like he never stopped knowing you, like he never stopped wanting you. It’s in the way his free hand grips your waist too tight, fingertips pressing bruises into your skin like he’s afraid you’ll slip through his fingers again.

Your breath stutters, thighs shaking around his hips, and he wants to tell you to stop looking at him like that—like he’s the only thing keeping you tethered, like he’s the only one who can break you apart like this.

But he can’t. Can’t.

So he does the only thing he can—he keeps pushing you higher, making you take everything he gives, even when he knows he shouldn’t.

"You don't even deserve this," he mutters against your jaw, voice thick, rough. "You don’t deserve me."

You don’t.

You know that.

But it doesn’t stop your body from clenching down around his fingers, doesn’t stop your hands from grabbing at him like he’s something solid in the wreckage. Doesn’t stop the pathetic, needy sound that slips from your throat when he presses his palm against your clit, dragging slick, messy circles over the swollen bud.

Changbin swears, low and ragged, his forehead pressing into yours like he can’t bear to look at you but can’t bring himself to pull away either. His breath is hot, uneven, his body taut with something thick and aching.

"You’re so fucking spoiled," he mutters, words a breath against your lips, so close you could kiss him if you weren’t falling apart around his hand. "Always taking from me. Always coming back like I’ll just give you whatever you want."

You should say something back—something sharp, something to cut as deep as he does. But you can’t.

Not when he’s pressing into you like that.

Not when his fingers stroke over that spot inside you with cruel precision, not when the rough grind of his palm is sending sparks shooting down your spine.

Not when you’re this fucking close.

Your nails bite into his shoulders, hips rolling into every thrust of his hand, breath coming in short, stuttered gasps.

He watches you, watches the way your body tightens, the way your mouth falls open, the way your eyes squeeze shut like you can’t handle looking at him while he tears you apart.

His jaw clenches.

"Look at me," he orders, voice dark, ruined.

You force your eyes open—just barely, just enough to see the heat burning behind his own, just enough to see the way his lips part when he watches you come undone for him.

His fingers don’t stop.

"That’s it," he breathes, pressing his forehead harder against yours, dragging you over the edge. "Give it to me."

Your body locks up as the orgasm rips through you—hot, all-consuming, the kind that leaves you shaking apart in his arms. A choked cry breaks from your throat, swallowed up by Changbin’s mouth as he presses against you, breathing you in like he can’t get enough.

His fingers don’t stop. Not yet.

He works you through it, dragging out every last shudder, every last pulse around his fingers, keeping you right on that high until it’s too much—until your body jerks in his hold, oversensitive, teetering on the edge of pain. Only then does he slow, only then does he pull his fingers from you, slick and glistening.

Your legs threaten to give out, and he catches you, a steadying hand braced against your waist. It’s unfair, how stable he still is, how composed, while you feel like a live wire, nerves fried and body still trembling.

Changbin lifts his fingers to his lips, dragging his tongue over them with a slow, deliberate flick. His eyes don’t leave yours, even as he groans low in his throat. “Still taste the same,” he murmurs, like it’s a fucking confession.

Your breath catches, shame curling beneath your ribs, but it doesn’t stop the way your body reacts—the way heat surges back to life in your belly, the way your thighs twitch at the sight of him.

He knows. Of course he knows.

His free hand slides up your side, fingers dragging over the fabric of your dress, before fisting it tight, pulling you back against him. He’s still hard, straining against his jeans, thick and unyielding where he presses between your legs.

Changbin's grip on your dress tightens, his knuckles white with restraint, but there's no stopping the way his hips push into you, grinding against the soaked heat between your thighs like he's trying to brand himself into you all over again.

"You think he’ll fuck you like this?" he mutters, voice low, rough, almost dangerous. "Think he’ll touch you like I do?"

Your breath stutters, nails biting into his shoulders, but you refuse to give him the answer he wants. He doesn't need to hear it. He already knows.

Because no one has ever touched you like Changbin does. No one ever will.

He fists the back of your hair, yanking your head back, forcing your eyes on him, forcing you to see the wreckage on his face—the fury, the desperation, the way his lips part like he's on the verge of saying something he shouldn't. But instead, all he does is groan, low and wrecked, before he crushes his mouth against yours, biting, demanding, tearing you apart like he wants to devour you whole.

His hands are rough, bruising as he grabs at you, pushing your dress higher, higher—until his fingers hook into your panties and tear them clean off with a sharp, impatient tug. You barely have a second to react before he's undoing his jeans, his breath hot against your lips, his forehead pressed to yours like he's trying to hold himself together.

"Tell me to stop," he murmurs, voice dark, ruined. His hands are on your thighs, spreading you open, positioning you exactly where he wants. "Tell me, and I will."

You don’t.

And he was never strong enough to resist you.

He groans your name like a curse, like a plea, and then he's pushing into you, thick and unrelenting, stretching you open with a slow, brutal force that has your fingers clawing at his back, your breath shattering into nothing.

His body shudders against yours, every muscle tensed like he's barely holding himself back, like the control is slipping from his fingers with every inch he buries inside you.

Changbin groans against your mouth, the sound vibrating through his chest, through yours, sinking into the heat pooling low in your stomach. His fingers dig into your thighs, strong and unyielding as he presses you harder against the wall, his body slotting against yours like you were made to fit together.

His cock stretches you open inch by inch, slow but deliberate, forcing you to feel everything—the way he throbs, the way he holds himself back just enough to savor the way your body takes him in. Your breath stutters, nails biting into his shoulders as he sinks deeper, as pleasure licks up your spine like fire.

"Fuck," he breathes, voice strained, forehead pressing to yours. His fingers flex at your hips, gripping tighter, grounding himself in the way you tremble around him. "You feel—" He swears again, words failing him, swallowed up by the heat between you.

His hips roll forward, pushing the last of the way in, seating himself deep, and your head tilts back, lips parting in a gasp. He catches it with his mouth, kisses you hard and messy, like he’s trying to keep you tethered to him, to this moment.

His control is slipping—you can feel it.

In the way his hands roam your body like he’s trying to memorize it all over again. In the way his hips twitch forward, just barely restrained. In the way his breath shakes, uneven, as he presses his forehead to your shoulder, jaw clenched so tight it looks like it hurts.

"You’re gonna ruin me," he mutters, voice rough, wrecked, like he hates how much he means it.

And then he moves.

The first thrust has you arching into him, legs locking around his waist, a broken sound slipping from your lips. The second has him groaning, deep and low, his hands dragging up your back, holding you tighter, closer, like he can’t stand the thought of even an inch of space between you.

There’s nothing slow about it now.

It’s desperate, all-consuming—the way his hips snap against yours, the way his breath comes in ragged gasps between curses, the way he needs you, like nothing else exists beyond this moment, beyond the way you feel wrapped around him, taking everything he gives you.

Your nails rake down his back, dragging red-hot lines over sweat-slick skin, and the way he shudders against you sends a fresh wave of heat pooling between your legs. He’s buried so deep, fucking into you with a fervor that borders on reckless, like he’s afraid you’ll disappear if he lets up even a little.

“Shit—” The word punches out of him when you tighten around him, legs squeezing at his waist, urging him closer, harder, deeper. His hands slip under your thighs, hiking them higher, angling you just right—until the next snap of his hips has your breath catching, your vision blurring.

The rhythm turns brutal.

Each thrust slams you against the wall, knocking the air from your lungs, but it’s not enough—not when the pleasure surges higher, tightening, coiling, threatening to spill over with every roll of his hips.

He’s losing himself in it, in you.

The growl that rumbles from his chest is almost primal as he buries his face in the crook of your neck, teeth scraping along sensitive skin. His breath is hot, ragged, desperate, and when his tongue flicks over the mark he’s just left, his pace stutters—just for a second—before he’s slamming back in, deeper, rougher.

His grip on you tightens, fingers digging into your hips like he’s trying to keep himself grounded, like he’s barely holding on. Each thrust is punishing, his pace relentless, dragging cries from your lips that he swallows with another bruising kiss.

“Fuck—” His voice is wrecked, strained, like he’s unraveling with every squeeze, every pulse of your body around him. His hands slide up, palms flattening against the wall on either side of your head, caging you in as he fucks into you like he has no intention of stopping—like he can’t stop. Every drag of his cock against your walls, every snap of his hips, sends sparks of pleasure searing through you, building, coiling tighter, tighter—

“Binnie—” you gasp, fingers twisting in his damp hair, pulling him even closer, until there’s nothing between you but heat and need and the overwhelming sensation of him.

Changbin shudders at the way you say his name—broken, breathless, wrecked. He’s always loved the way you sound when he’s inside you, the way you cling to him like he’s the only thing keeping you tethered to reality. But this time, there’s something else—something raw, something he doesn’t want to name.

He’s fucking you too hard, too deep, but he can’t stop. Won’t stop. Not when you keep pulling him in, meeting every thrust, making those breathy little noises that go straight to his head.

“Say it again,” he growls, his lips dragging over your jaw, over your throat, sucking another mark into your skin like he has something to prove. “Say my fucking name.”

Your fingers twist tighter in his hair, your body arching against his as he pounds into you, reckless, relentless. His hips stutter for half a second when you tighten around him, when your legs squeeze at his waist like you’re trying to trap him inside you.

“Changbin,” you moan again, and his restraint snaps.

He grabs your wrists, pinning them above your head against the wall with one hand, his other arm curling around your waist, keeping you right where he wants you. A deep groan rumbles in his chest as he fucks into you harder, faster, his control slipping away with every slick, desperate sound you make.

The bass outside is still pulsing, laughter threading through the walls like distant echoes, but here, in this dim-lit space, it’s just the two of you. The heat of it still lingers—his breath against your skin, his hands that had held you up like you were something holy, something to be worshiped.

Now, he’s unraveling.

Changbin’s forehead nearly brushes yours, his hands braced against the wall on either side of you, like he’s still trying to keep you here, keep you his. There’s sweat at his temples, his breath still uneven as he lifts trembling fingers to your cheek—hesitant, searching.

"You okay?" His voice is hoarse, raw from how he had moaned your name minutes ago.

Your lips part, but the words don’t come right away. Because no—you’re not okay. You are cracked porcelain, filled to the brim with something you don’t want to name. But admitting that would mean admitting something deeper, something messier, something that tastes too much like regret.

So instead, you let your face turn away from his touch.

“I’m fine.” The words are clipped, distant. They taste like steel on your tongue.

His fingers twitch, then fall away.

The shift in the air is immediate. A thread snapping, a wound reopening, the ghost of something unsaid rising between you.

You push at his chest, the space between you stretching like a chasm. Your dress, still pushed up from where he had taken you against the wall, falls back into place as you smooth trembling hands over the fabric, as if that could erase what just happened.

As if it could erase him.

"Don't do that," he says, voice quieter now.

"Do what?"

"That." His hand gestures between you—this distance you’ve forced, this void where warmth used to be. His voice is paper-thin, fraying at the edges. "Act like this was nothing."

You exhale sharply through your nose, willing your hands to stop shaking. "It doesn’t have to be something, Changbin."

His jaw clenches. "You don’t mean that."

You do. You have to. If you don’t, then you’ll have to face the way he looked at you when he fell apart in your arms, the way his fingers had gripped you like you were something fragile, something worth holding on to.

"You got what you wanted, didn’t you?" The words slip out before you can stop them, sharp as glass, crueler than you intended.

The flicker in his eyes is immediate. Hurt, stark and unfiltered.

"Are you fucking serious?" His voice is hoarse, disbelief laced into every syllable.

He stares at you like he doesn’t recognize you, like the version of you that had just clung to him, breathless and wanting, had been nothing more than a ghost.

Your stomach twists, nausea curling at the edges of your ribs, but you keep your chin high, arms crossed tight over your chest, locking the warmth of his touch out, locking yourself in.

"It was just sex," you say, and it feels like something cruel, something vile.

Changbin blinks, breath hitching for a second, like the words landed somewhere deep, somewhere they weren’t supposed to go. His throat bobs as he swallows hard, dragging a hand through his sweat-damp hair.

"Just sex," he repeats, hollow, like he’s testing the words in his own mouth. Then he laughs, but it’s sharp, bitter. "Right. Okay."

He shakes his head, stepping back, and you feel the loss of him immediately, like the world is suddenly too big, too cold. "I don’t fucking get you," he mutters, rubbing a palm over his face before his gaze snaps back to you, dark, wounded. "I mean, you—you wanted this. You wanted me. But now you’re acting like it didn’t mean shit."

"Because it didn’t," you lie, the words leaving a burn in your throat.

His jaw clenches, something desperate flickering in his eyes, something frantic, like a man grasping at fraying rope.

"Don’t do that." His voice is quieter now, lower, like if he says it softly enough, you’ll take it back. "Don’t fucking lie to me."

You inhale sharply, nails digging into your arms. "I’m not."

His lips press into a thin line. He nods once, a quick, jerky motion. "Right," he breathes, his fingers curling into fists. "Then why the fuck did it feel different?"

"Changbin—"

"Tell me," he demands, stepping closer again, and it takes everything in you not to move back, not to let him see you crack. "Because I—I felt it. And I know you did, too."

You shake your head, swallowing past the lump in your throat. "You're overthinking it."

"Overthinking it?" He lets out a breath, something almost like a laugh, but it’s wrong, jagged. His hands go to his hips, his gaze burning into yours. "So what, we just go back out there like nothing happened? Like I didn’t just—like we didn’t just—"

"Yes." The word is sharp, final. You force yourself to meet his gaze, even as everything inside you is screaming. "That’s exactly what we do."

His breath leaves him in a rush.

For a moment, he just stares at you. And then, slowly, he shakes his head, biting down on his lower lip like he’s trying to keep something inside.

"You’re so fucking scared of feeling something real, aren’t you?" His voice is quieter now, but there’s something breaking inside it, something fragile and aching.

Your nails bite into your palms. "I don’t know what you’re talking about."

His expression hardens. "Yeah, you do."

Silence swells between you, thick, suffocating. The kind that drowns. The kind that chokes.

Changbin exhales sharply through his nose, his tongue pressing against the inside of his cheek. His fists are clenched so tight at his sides that his knuckles bloom white, like he’s physically holding himself back.

He scoffs, shaking his head again, slower this time, like he’s finally, finally getting it. "You know what? Fine," he mutters, his voice scraped raw. "You wanna pretend like this was just some—some meaningless fuck, then go ahead. Lie to me. Lie to yourself." He steps back another inch, and that loss, god, it burns. "But don’t you dare stand there and tell me it wasn’t real."

His voice cracks on the last word.

You should walk away.

You should turn around, push open the door, step back into the noise of the party, let the bass swallow you whole. You should do anything—anything—but stand here and let the weight of him, of what you’ve done, press into your ribs like something suffocating.

But you don’t move.

Because he’s right. And that terrifies you.

Instead, you cross your arms tighter, your nails biting into your skin. "What do you want me to say, Changbin?"

He breathes out a laugh, humorless, shaking his head again like he can’t believe you. "I want you to stop fucking running," he snaps. "I want you to tell me—tell yourself—the truth for once."

Your throat tightens. "The truth?" you echo, and your voice is a hollow thing, barely above a whisper. "The truth is that this was a mistake."

His face twists, something dark and wounded flickering through his expression like a storm about to break. His breath shudders in his chest, his lips parting as if to say something—anything—but nothing comes out.

A mistake.

You watch as the word sinks into him, as his shoulders go rigid, as something in his eyes dims like a flame being snuffed out. His throat bobs, his jaw clenches, and for a moment, he looks like he wants to fight you on it. Like he wants to grab your face, shake you, force you to look at him, really look at him, and see what you’re doing.

But he doesn’t.

Instead, he laughs. Low. Sharp. Bitter.

"Yeah?" His voice is hoarse, wrecked. "That what you tell yourself to make it easier?"

Your arms tighten around yourself. "It’s the truth," you say, though your voice isn’t as steady as you want it to be.

His lips part, then press into a thin line. He looks at you like he’s waiting for you to take it back, to fix this, but you don’t. You can’t.

So, he shakes his head, exhaling a laugh that doesn’t reach his eyes. "You really wanna do this again?" His gaze burns into you. "Act like you don’t care? Like this wasn’t anything? Like we weren’t—" He stops, swiping a hand down his face. His voice drops lower, rougher. "Fuck, I’m so tired of this."

Something cracks in your chest.

Because you know what he means. You’ve been here before, haven’t you? In this same suffocating space, standing across from him with words you don’t mean burning on your tongue. It’s been months, but nothing has changed.

You breathe in, steadying yourself. "This was different."

Changbin’s eyes snap to yours. "Different how?"

"It was just sex," you force yourself to repeat, the words feeling like barbed wire in your throat.

"Just sex," he repeats, hollow. His tongue presses into the inside of his cheek before he exhales sharply through his nose. "Right. Like it was just sex back then, too, huh?"

Your stomach turns to stone.

"That’s not—"

"Because I remember," he cuts in, his voice quiet but dangerous, "I remember the way you used to look at me. The way you used to hold me–"

Your hands curl into fists at your sides. "That was a long time ago, Changbin."

He laughs, shaking his head. "So what? It just stopped meaning something to you?" His voice is desperate now, raw with something you don’t want to name. "Because I’ve been trying—I’ve been trying so fucking hard to let this go, to let you go, but then you look at me like that, and —" He stops, his hands running through his hair, like he doesn’t know what to do with them. "How do you do it?" he asks, quieter now, almost like he’s talking to himself. "How do you just turn it off?"

You don’t answer.The silence that follows is sharp, razor-thin. He stares at you, something flickering behind his eyes—anger, heartbreak, disbelief.

The door creaks open.

The sound rips through the tension, shattering whatever was left between you.

Light spills into the room, along with the muffled bass of the party, and when you turn, you see them—a couple, drunken and laughing, stumbling inside, oblivious to the scene they’ve just walked into.

"Oh—shit, sorry," the guy says, blinking at the two of you. His girlfriend giggles, already tugging him back toward the door. "Didn’t know this room was taken."

You don’t think. You just move.

Before Changbin can say another word, before you can let yourself feel, you slip past him and out the door, into the noise, the heat, the blur of people who don’t know you, who don’t know what you just did, who don’t know what you’re still running from.

____________________________________________________________________________

The next morning comes like a slow, cruel punishment.

Your head is pounding—a dull, merciless throb behind your temples, the kind that makes the room spin when you try to move. Your mouth is dry, your limbs heavy, your stomach twisted in a nauseating knot.

You groan, rolling onto your side, blinking against the dim light filtering through the curtains. The weight of last night sits on your chest, thick and suffocating, but it’s hazy—fragments of music, heat, Changbin’s voice tangled in yours.

And then… nothing.

Your brows knit together as you push yourself up, the effort making your stomach lurch. How the fuck did you even get home? You don’t remember leaving the party. Don’t remember changing into the oversized shirt draped over your frame.

Your hands fist in the fabric, fingers clumsy and trembling. Did you do this? Did someone else?

A flicker of panic stirs in your chest. Your heart rate spikes—until a voice, flat and unimpressed, cuts through the fog.

"You look like shit."

Seungmin is sitting in the chair by your desk, legs crossed, arms folded over his chest. He looks exactly the same as always—judgmental as fuck, like he’s been watching you for hours, waiting for you to wake up so he can lecture you.

Which, knowing him, is probably true.

A groan leaves your lips as you let your head fall back against the pillow. "Jesus fucking Christ."

"Not quite." He tilts his head. "Though I did save your ass last night, so you’re welcome."

Your stomach churns. "How did I—?"

"You called me. I brought you home," he says, like it’s obvious. Like it’s not something you should have already known.

Your fingers tighten around the blanket. "Did I—?"

"You barely made it up the stairs," Seungmin cuts in, voice cool. "You passed out the second you hit the bed. You were a mess. Barely conscious." A beat. "You took something, didn’t you?"

You shift under his gaze. "It wasn’t—"

"Don’t bullshit me." His tone isn’t sharp, but it doesn’t need to be. "Alcohol and what else?"

Your throat tightens. "Xanax."

He doesn’t react right away, just lets out a slow breath through his nose. Then, quietly, "Jesus Christ."

A beat of silence stretches between you, thick and heavy.

You exhale, pressing the heels of your palms into your eyes. "I don’t need a lecture."

Seungmin watches you, expression unreadable. “Do you even know how long you’ve been out?”

Your fingers curl into the sheets. Your body feels sluggish, your head thick with remnants of sleep. “A few hours?”

“Nineteen hours and thirty seven minutes.”

The number hangs in the air like a death sentence.

Nineteen hours.

The longest you’ve gone without a pill in—God, how long? Your stomach twists violently, your hands tightening around the fabric of the blanket. You feel it creeping up your spine—the craving, the panic, the itch under your skin that only ever gets worse.

You don't respond at first. You just breathe through it, shallow, unsteady, like maybe if you stay still enough, the discomfort will settle instead of swallowing you whole. But it doesn’t. It won’t. The ache is inside you now, twisting through your veins, crawling under your skin.

Your body knows.

Your stomach clenches, a deep, sour kind of nausea curling at the base of your throat. You swallow against it, shifting to sit up, but your limbs feel useless—weak, disconnected, fever-hot but shaking. Your fingers tighten around the blanket, grip slipping, damp with sweat.

You force out a breath. Your jaw locks against the answer he’s expecting. The truth. That your head is splitting open, that your body is begging for something, anything to dull the edges. That nineteen hours without it feels like your bones are trying to escape your skin.

But you don’t say any of that.

You wipe a shaky hand over your face. “I just need—”

Seungmin tilts his head, gaze sharp. “What?”

You shut your mouth.

You know what. He knows what.

You don’t have to say it.

The silence stretches between you, thick and suffocating. Seungmin doesn’t move, doesn’t blink, doesn’t look away. He just watches you, gaze steady, dissecting. Like he’s waiting for you to be honest. Like he’s giving you the chance.

You won’t take it.

Your throat feels tight, like something is lodged there, heavy and immovable. Your hands are trembling where they clutch the blanket, knuckles white. You dig your nails into the fabric, trying to ground yourself, but the pressure doesn’t help—not really. Nothing helps.

Seungmin exhales sharply through his nose, his lips pressing into a thin line. “You’re going through withdrawal.”

The word makes your stomach lurch. You don’t want to hear it. You don’t want to think about it. Because it makes it real—more real than the nausea, more real than the shaking, more real than the fact that you’re already considering how to make this stop.

“I’m fine,” you say. It’s useless. You sound anything but fine.

Seungmin scoffs, unimpressed. “You look like you’re dying.”

You let out a dry, humorless laugh. “Maybe I should.”

His expression hardens. “That’s not fucking funny.”

You shrug, but it takes too much effort, your limbs sluggish and aching. Your skin is too hot, but you’re shivering, cold sweat beading at your temples. It feels like your body is tearing itself apart from the inside out. Maybe it is. Maybe that’s what you deserve.

Seungmin’s jaw clenches, his fingers curling over his knee like he’s physically holding himself back. “I mean it,” he says, voice flat, but there’s something simmering underneath, something sharp-edged. “Don’t joke about that.”

You don’t respond. Not because you don’t want to, but because you can’t. The lump in your throat has grown thick, suffocating.

Seungmin watches you for another moment, then exhales, rubbing a hand over his face. “Nineteen hours.” He says it like he’s reminding you, like he’s giving you the number so you can decide what to do with it. “You can make it to twenty.”

Your stomach lurches. You want to tell him that you can’t, that twenty feels just as impossible as twenty-four, as forty-eight, as forever. You want to tell him that you don’t even know why you called him last night, don’t know why you let him drag you home instead of finding a way to get what you needed.

But you don’t say anything.

You just press your fingers against your temples and breathe through the nausea.

Seungmin shifts in his chair, the legs scraping against the floor. You can feel his eyes on you, sharp and assessing. “You need water,” he says finally.

You shake your head. The thought alone makes you feel sick.

"Seungmin."

Your voice cracks, raw and barely above a whisper. But it stops him in his tracks.

He turns, hand still on the doorknob, brows pulling together just slightly. "What?"

You swallow hard, staring down at the blanket bunched in your lap, twisting your fingers into the fabric like it’s the only thing keeping you tethered. You feel stripped bare—exposed in a way that has everything to do with last night’s unraveling.

"Just—" You inhale sharply, pressing your lips together, hating the way your throat tightens. "Can you just… stay?"

The words feel small. Weak. And you hate that, too.

Then, with a sigh, he steps back into the room, kicking off his shoes as he moves toward you. "Move over."

You do. Barely. Just enough for him to slip onto the mattress beside you, his weight dipping the bed slightly. He settles in without hesitation, lying on top of the covers while you remain tucked beneath them.

It’s not weird. It never has been.

You’ve known Seungmin too long, been through too much together, for something like this to be anything but familiar. You’re practically family.

Still, when he shifts closer, when his arm slings loosely around your shoulder, something inside you cracks wide open.

"You scared me," he says eventually, voice quieter now.

Your eyes press shut. "I know."

Another beat. Then, "Don’t do that shit again."

You swallow past the lump in your throat. "Okay."

Neither of you move.

For now, this is enough.

The weight of exhaustion settles deeper into your bones, pressing you further into the mattress. Seungmin's warmth seeps through the layers of fabric between you, grounding in a way that nothing else has since last night. Since him. You exhale, slow and uneven, and Seungmin feels it—his grip around your shoulder tightening for just a second, a quiet reassurance he doesn’t put into words.

"Do you remember anything?" he asks eventually, voice softer than before.

Your fingers twitch against the blanket. "Some." A pause. "Not much."

He doesn’t say anything right away, but you feel the way his body tenses for a fraction of a second. "Changbin was looking for you before I found you."

Your stomach flips.

Your throat feels tight again, panic curling at the edges of your ribs. You don’t want to ask. Don’t want to know. But you do anyway.

"Did you tell him?"

Seungmin shifts beside you, chin brushing lightly against your hair as he adjusts. "No."

Relief and something bitter twist together inside you.

"He was worried," Seungmin adds after a moment. "Really worried."

You bite your lip, squeezing your eyes shut. You don’t want to hear that. Don’t want to think about what Changbin must’ve looked like when he realized you were gone. The hurt that must’ve flickered across his face, the frustration that would’ve quickly followed. Seungmin shifts again, this time pulling back slightly so he can glance down at you. "You gonna talk to him?"

You hesitate.

Your fingers tighten around the blanket, nails pressing into the fabric like it’s the only thing keeping you anchored.

"I don’t know," you admit, voice small.

Seungmin doesn’t sigh, doesn’t scoff—just watches you, eyes sharp, waiting. You can feel the weight of his gaze even without looking.

"You can’t avoid him forever," he says eventually. "You know that, right?"

"I’m not—" You cut yourself off, because you are. You absolutely are.

Seungmin shifts beside you, propping himself up on one elbow. "He was losing his shit last night," he says, blunt as ever. "Like, full-on panicked."

Your stomach twists.

"He kept asking where you went, if anyone had seen you leave. It was fucking sad, honestly."

You exhale through your nose, trying to keep your expression neutral, but Seungmin sees right through you. He always does.

Seungmin doesn’t say anything right away. Instead, he leans back against the headboard, staring up at the ceiling like he’s picking his next words carefully. You can feel his presence beside you, steady and sure, the way it’s always been.

"You know," he starts, voice quieter now, "I used to think you and Changbin were good together."

Your stomach clenches.

Seungmin doesn’t look at you, just continues like he’s thinking out loud. "I mean, I don’t think I ever told you that. But I did. You balanced each other out, you know? He made you laugh in a way you never let yourself. And you—" He exhales, shaking his head slightly. "You softened him in a way no one else could."

Your fingers twist into the blanket. You don’t want to hear this. Not now. Not after everything.

"It wasn’t enough," you say, barely above a whisper.

Seungmin finally glances at you. "You sure about that?"

You force out a hollow laugh. "We broke up, didn’t we?"

A beat of silence. Then—

"You broke up with him."

The words hit harder than you expect. You knew they were coming, knew that was the truth, but hearing them out loud makes your throat tighten.

You swallow. "It was for the best."

Seungmin scoffs. "For who?"

"For him," you snap before you can stop yourself.

Seungmin blinks, caught off guard by the sharpness of your voice. You press your lips together, exhaling through your nose, trying to reel yourself back in.

He doesn’t push. Just watches you for a moment, eyes sharp, searching. "Is that really what you think?"

You don’t answer. Because if you do, you’ll have to admit it.

That you left because you were scared. That you left because you felt too much, and it made you sick, made you restless, made you want to run before he could run first.

Because Seungmin is right. Changbin never left. You did.

"You were happy with him," Seungmin says after a moment, voice softer now.

Your chest tightens. "I thought I was."

"You were," he insists. "You just didn’t know how to let yourself believe it."

You squeeze your eyes shut, shaking your head. "It wouldn’t have lasted."

Seungmin doesn’t argue. But he doesn’t agree, either. Instead, he says, "Do you remember when he stayed outside your apartment that night?"

You cringe, shame curling deep in your gut at the memory.

Seungmin shifts beside you. "After you ended things. He came over. He wanted to fix it, but you wouldn’t open the door. So he just... sat there. For hours." He exhales, rubbing a hand over his face. "Hyunjin had to drag him back home. Said he wouldn’t stop crying."

Your heart clenches so tightly it hurts.

You remember that night. You remember sitting on the other side of the door, knees pulled to your chest, fingers pressed against your lips to keep in the sobs. You remember wanting to reach for the handle, to take it all back, to tell him you were sorry.

But you didn’t.

And now here you are, running all over again.

"You still love him, don’t you?" Seungmin’s voice is quiet, careful. Like he already knows the answer.

You bite the inside of your cheek, hard. "It doesn’t matter."

"It does," he counters. "And you know it."

Seungmin’s words settle into the silence, heavy and immovable. You want to argue, to deny it, to pretend that it’s not still clawing at your chest—but what’s the point? He sees right through you. He always has.

You press the heel of your palm against your forehead, eyes squeezing shut. “Even if I do, it doesn’t change anything.”

Seungmin exhales sharply through his nose. “Why not?”

“Because I’ll ruin it.” The words slip out before you can stop them, unfiltered and raw, and the moment they do, you wish you could shove them back down.

Seungmin goes still. And then, softer, “You really think that?”

You let out a hollow laugh, tilting your head back against the headboard. “Seungmin. Look at me. Look at the shit I do.” Your fingers twist into the blanket again, as if holding onto something tangible will stop you from unraveling completely. “I push people away. I fuck things up before they can fall apart on their own. And I don’t—” Your voice falters, throat tightening. “I don’t know how to be what he needs.”

A pause. Then—

“And what exactly does he need?” Seungmin asks.

You stare at him, frustrated. “Something steady. Something good. Something I’m not.”

Seungmin’s expression doesn’t change. If anything, his gaze softens, just slightly. “That’s bullshit,” he says simply.

You blink. “Excuse me?”

“You heard me.” He shifts so he’s fully facing you now, arms still folded over his chest. “You act like you’re some kind of walking disaster, like you’re incapable of being loved, but that’s not true.” His eyes hold yours, steady and unrelenting. “You love harder than anyone I know. You just don’t let yourself believe that people could love you the same way.”

Your breath catches in your throat.

“I—”

“You didn’t leave because you thought you weren’t good for him,” Seungmin cuts in. “You left because you were scared he was good for you.”

The words hit you like a punch to the ribs, knocking the air from your lungs.

Because it’s true, isn’t it?

Your throat is tight, chest aching in a way that feels too raw to touch. You don’t trust yourself to speak, don’t trust your voice not to crack under the weight of everything Seungmin is forcing you to confront.

For a long moment, neither of you say anything. The room is quiet, save for the rhythmic ticking of the clock on your nightstand.

Then, quietly, Seungmin sighs. “You know, I don’t usually get involved in this kind of shit,” he mutters, leaning his head back against the headboard. “I figure people are gonna do what they want, and it’s not my job to fix their messes.”

You glance at him warily. “But?”

“But,” he says, leveling you with a look, “I think you’re being an idiot.”

You let out a dry laugh, rubbing at your eyes. “Yeah. I got that.”

Seungmin shakes his head. “I mean it. You can keep pretending you don’t care. You can keep running, keep convincing yourself that this is just the way you are.” His voice lowers, softer but no less firm. “Or you can do something about it.”

You swallow. “And if I don’t?”

Seungmin shrugs. “Then you keep living like this. Keep pretending you don’t miss him. Keep waking up in beds that don’t feel right. Keep feeling like shit every time you see him with someone else, wondering if maybe, just maybe, that could’ve still been you.”

You exhale shakily, pressing your fingers against your temples.

“I’m just saying.” Seungmin nudges your shoulder lightly, voice dipping back into something a little more familiar, a little less weighted. “You don’t have to be so dramatic about it.”

A weak laugh escapes you despite yourself. “Fuck off.”

Seungmin grins. “There she is.”

The weight in your chest hasn’t lifted entirely, but it feels a little less suffocating now. Like maybe, just maybe, you can breathe through it.

You sit with that for a moment, the quiet between you no longer sharp, no longer something that threatens to choke you.

Then, hesitantly, you murmur, “What if I don’t know how to fix it?”

Seungmin doesn’t hesitate. “Then start by telling him the truth.”

You lick your lips, voice dry and unsteady. “I don’t think that’s enough.”

Seungmin exhales through his nose, shaking his head. “Then stop making excuses and figure out what is.”

His voice is firm but not unkind. It’s the way he’s always spoken to you—like he’s giving you just enough space to mess up, but never enough to let you completely self-destruct. And right now, you think he might be the only person willing to call you out for exactly what you are.

You rub a hand over your face, fingers pressing into your temples. “I don’t even know where to start.”

Seungmin is quiet for a beat. Then, “Get clean.”

Your breath catches. “Seungmin—”

“No.” He looks at you, gaze sharp, unwavering. “I’m not gonna sit here and pretend like I don’t see it. The way you drink. The shit you take just to keep your head quiet.” He tilts his head, studying you. “You think Changbin didn’t notice?”

Your stomach twists.

You’ve spent so long convincing yourself you were good at hiding it. That the late nights, the pills, the drinks, the desperate need to fill the empty spaces—you thought it was subtle enough to slip by.

But maybe it never was.

Maybe that was just another lie you told yourself to make it easier to keep running.

Seungmin leans forward, resting his forearms on his knees. His voice is quieter now, but no less firm. “If you want to fix things with him, if you actually want to try, you need to stop doing this shit to yourself.” He gestures vaguely at you, at the room, at all of it. “Because if you don’t, you’re gonna keep hurting yourself. And worse? You’re gonna hurt him, too.”

Your throat feels tight. “I never meant to—”

“I know,” Seungmin says, and this time, there’s no bite to it. Just quiet understanding. “But you will.”

The words hit harder than you expect. Because the truth is, you’ve already hurt him. Over and over again. You saw the way he looked at you before you left, the way his hands trembled when he reached for you and you stepped back.

And still, you left.

You exhale shakily, pressing the heels of your palms into your eyes. “I don’t know if I can.”

Seungmin doesn’t let up. “Then figure it out. Because if you go back to him like this? You’re just gonna break him all over again.”

You swallow hard, hands shaking in your lap. He’s right. He’s so fucking right, and you hate him for it.

But mostly, you hate yourself.

For letting it get this bad.

For not stopping sooner.

For not being the kind of person Changbin deserved to love.

For the first time in a long time, you feel something crack deep in your chest, something that’s been locked up tight behind all the bullshit excuses you’ve been feeding yourself.

You meet Seungmin’s gaze, eyes burning. “What if I try and I still fuck it up?”

He huffs a laugh, shaking his head. “Then at least you’ll know you actually tried.”

You stare at him, at the boy who has somehow never given up on you despite all the reasons he should. And then, finally, you nod.

It’s small. It’s hesitant.

But it’s real.

And that’s enough.

For a moment, at least.

Then the panic starts creeping back in—the gnawing, clawing kind that tightens around your throat and makes your skin itch with something worse than withdrawal. If you wait too long, you won’t do it. You know yourself. You’ll convince yourself it’s not worth it, that it’s better this way, that you’ll just end up ruining him more.

If you don’t go to Changbin now, you never will.

So you move.

You push the blanket off and swing your legs over the edge of the bed, ignoring the way the room spins violently around you. Your body protests immediately—your muscles scream, your stomach clenches, your skin feels feverish and too tight all at once—but you grit your teeth and stand anyway.

Or, you try to.

Because Seungmin is there, shoving you right back down before you even get a chance to take a step.

“No.”

Your head jerks up. He looks pissed—more than pissed. His jaw is clenched, his grip firm where he holds your shoulder

Your whole body tenses. “If I don’t do it now, I won’t do it at all.”

“And if you collapse on his doorstep, what then?” His grip is firm, but not unkind. His voice, though, is sharp. “You can barely fucking stand, let alone have a conversation with him that doesn’t end with you making it worse.”

He gestures at you—at the way your whole body is trembling, at the sweat glistening at your hairline, at the way your legs are barely holding you up. “You think you’re gonna show up at his place like this and suddenly everything will be fine? That you’ll say some magic fucking words and he’ll just forgive you?”

Seungmin sighs, running a hand through his hair. He looks exhausted. Like he’s been fighting a battle he never asked to be a part of.

“Just give yourself a few hours,” he says, voice quieter now. “Let your body catch up first. Then you can go.”

It’s a compromise. One that you should take.

So you do.

You let yourself fall back against the pillows, pressing the heels of your palms into your eyes. You don’t speak. Neither does Seungmin. He just stays there, silent, like he’s waiting for you to finally pass out.

You don’t. You can’t. Every nerve in your body is on fire, the restlessness so overwhelming it makes your skin feel too tight. You shift constantly, fingers twitching against the fabric of the blanket, but Seungmin doesn’t say anything about it.

At some point, though, he falls asleep.

You wait.

And then, once you’re sure he’s out, you move.

You push the blanket off, biting down on your lip to keep from groaning as your muscles scream in protest. Every inch of your body feels like it’s been wrung out, exhaustion settling deep in your bones, but you force yourself up anyway.

The clock reads 4:12 AM as you slip out the door.

Seungmin doesn’t wake.

And you don’t stop.

____________________________________________________________________________

For a second, neither of you say anything.

Changbin blinks at you, slow and disoriented, sleep still clinging to the edges of his expression. His hair is a mess, sticking up in uneven tufts, and there’s a crease pressed into his cheek from his pillow. He’s shirtless, sweatpants slung low on his hips, one hand braced against the doorframe as he takes you in.

Then, his gaze sharpens.

His lips press into a thin line, his posture stiffening, the warmth of sleep fading into something more guarded. He looks you over once, eyes scanning your face, your trembling hands, the way you’re barely standing upright. He exhales sharply through his nose.

“You’ve gotta be kidding me.”

Your stomach twists. “Changbin—”

“Do you even know what time it is?” His voice is quiet, but there’s an edge to it, rough and worn down. Not sharp enough to cut—but enough to bruise.

“I had to come.” Your voice is hoarse, barely audible over the hammering of your pulse.

He scoffs, running a hand down his face. “Of course you did.” He shifts, crossing his arms over his chest. “You high?”

You shake your head. “No.”

He doesn’t look convinced. His jaw tightens, his gaze flicking down to your hands—shaking, white-knuckled around the sleeves of your hoodie. You force them still, gripping the fabric harder.

“I’m not,” you repeat, firmer this time. “I swear.”

A long silence stretches between you, thick and weighted, the kind that sinks deep into your ribs and refuses to let go.

Then, with a quiet sigh, Changbin steps back. “Get inside.”

The warmth of his apartment is suffocating after the bite of the cold, the air thick with the lingering heat of sleep. It smells like him—like cedarwood and clean laundry, like something steady, something safe—but all it does is make your chest ache harder.

You don’t belong here. Not anymore.

Still, you step inside.

The door clicks shut behind you, a finality that rattles in your bones. You swallow hard as Changbin moves past you, his steps slow, deliberate. The kitchen faucet runs, the sound too loud in the quiet, and then he’s back, pressing a glass of water into your shaking hands.

His fingers brush yours—brief, fleeting—but it sends something sharp through your veins.

“Drink,” he murmurs.

You do, even as your stomach twists around the effort, even as the words start bubbling up before you can stop them.

“I—” Your voice catches, raw and unsteady. You clear your throat, grip tightening around the glass. “I’m sorry.”

Changbin exhales through his nose, slow and measured. He doesn’t respond.

You can’t stop. “I know I fucked up. I know I hurt you, and I never wanted to.” The words stumble out, rushed and uneven, spilling into the space between you like water slipping through cracks. “I don’t—I don’t even know how to fix it, but I—”

Your breath hitches. The words pile up in your throat, heavy and unwieldy, choking you from the inside out. Your hands shake harder, fingers tightening around the glass until your knuckles burn.

Changbin watches you, jaw tense, but his eyes aren’t hard. They aren’t angry. They’re searching, flickering with something unreadable, something softer than you deserve.

You open your mouth, but nothing comes out.

Your pulse is too loud in your ears. The room tilts. The air feels too thick, your lungs struggling to expand around it.

You don’t even realize what you’re doing—don’t register the way your nails dig into your palms, how sharp the pain has become—until Changbin’s hand wraps around your wrist.

“Hey.” His voice is low, steady. His thumb brushes over your skin, a grounding pressure. "Stop."

You blink, dazed, following his gaze down to where your fists are clenched so tightly that blood has begun to bead at the crescent-shaped wounds in your palms.

Your stomach lurches.

“I—” You try to let go, but your muscles refuse to cooperate, your fingers locked in place.

Changbin sighs, his grip gentle but firm as he pries your hands open. He doesn’t say anything—just guides you toward his bed, easing you to sit at the edge before crouching in front of you.

The mattress dips beneath you, its familiar give grounding you in a way your own body refuses to. The room still tilts at the edges of your vision, nausea pressing sharp against your ribs, but Changbin doesn’t let go. His grip stays firm, steady, his fingers wrapped around your wrists as if to keep you from slipping through his grasp entirely.

You watch, breath unsteady, as he releases you just long enough to disappear into the bathroom. The distant rustling of cabinets, the quiet pop of a cap being unscrewed—then he’s back, first aid kit in hand, expression unreadable.

The soft click of plastic echoes in the stillness as he kneels in front of you, his movements deliberate, careful. He doesn’t speak as he takes your hand again, doesn’t chide you, doesn’t ask why—he just begins cleaning the wounds, swiping a cool antiseptic wipe across your palm with excruciating gentleness.

You flinch. His grip tightens, but not to hold you still—just to remind you that he’s there.

"Relax," he murmurs.

You try. Try to breathe through the sting, try to focus on the warmth of his hands rather than the sharp bite of antiseptic against broken skin. But the moment feels too fragile, too raw, and you don’t know how to exist in it without unraveling entirely.

Your throat works around the lump forming there. “I didn’t mean to.” The words slip out before you can stop them, hoarse and barely above a whisper.

His fingers still against your skin. He exhales, slow and measured, before resuming his careful work. “I know.”

You’re trembling.

Changbin feels it beneath his hands—the fine, uncontrollable shakes that run through your fingers, up your arms, curling around your shoulders like something too heavy to carry alone. He doesn’t know if it’s from the pain, the exhaustion, or something deeper, something far worse.

Maybe all of it at once.

His chest tightens. He’s known you for years, long enough to recognize the weight you carry, the way you pretend it’s nothing. He’s seen you angry, reckless, sharp-edged and self-destructive. He’s seen you laugh through pain, spit out sarcasm like it’s a shield, convince the world that nothing can touch you.

But he has never—not once—seen you cry.

So when your breath shudders, when your fingers tighten in his, when your face crumples, it hits him like a fist to the gut.

It starts slow—just a hitch in your breath, a slight tremble in your lips. Then your eyes squeeze shut, and the first tear slips free, carving a silent path down your cheek. Another follows. Then another.

Changbin’s stomach drops.

“Hey,” he breathes, barely realizing he’s moving until he’s shifting onto the mattress beside you. He doesn’t let go of your hands, doesn’t even think about it—just stays close, as if anchoring you in place.

But you shake your head, ducking your head to hide behind your hair, shoulders carving into yourself, like you’re embarrassed to be breaking apart in front of him.

That’s what gets him. The way you’re trying so hard to hold it in, like you think you have to.

“Don’t,” he murmurs. He reaches up, hesitates for a split second before brushing his fingers against your cheekbone, coaxing your gaze to his. “It’s okay.”

You let out a sharp, broken breath, and his heart clenches so tight for a moment, he’s the one that can’t breath.

He’s helpless against it—the sight of you unraveling, the sound of your quiet, choked sobs. He doesn’t know what to do, what to say that won’t sound useless in the face of whatever’s eating you alive.

So he just does the only thing that makes sense.

He pulls you in.

His arms circle around you, firm but careful, like he’s afraid you’ll slip through his fingers if he holds too tight. A sob tears its way out of you, muffled against his bare shoulder, and it nearly floors him. He tightens his hold instinctively, hand cradling the back of your head, anchoring you as best he can while the weight of everything presses down. He knows then that you could continue pushing him away for the rest of your lives, tear his heart into pieces like you did the day you broke up with him and he would still be here, still be holding you like this if you ever needed him again like the damn fool he was.

The realization settles deep in his bones, heavy and inescapable—he will always come back to you.

You don’t speak. You just stay there, curled into him, hands gripping his hoodie like you need something—someone—to hold you together.

Changbin doesn’t move, doesn’t dare breathe too deep in case it startles you, in case it reminds you of the space you should be putting between you instead of closing it. Instead, he just presses his chin lightly against the top of your head and listens—to your uneven breaths, to the tiny, shuddering inhales that barely make it past your lips.

It takes a long time for your breathing to even out, for the tension in your body to start seeping away. Even longer for your fingers to unclench, for the weight against him to settle, growing heavier, more still.

He tilts his head just slightly, catching a glimpse of your face where it’s tucked into his shoulder. Your lashes are damp, cheeks still streaked with the remnants of your breakdown—but your features have softened, lips parted as sleep tugs you under.

Something in him pulls tight.

He knows you—knows that sleep doesn't come easy for you on a good day, let alone like this. But now, wrapped up in his arms, your body is giving in. You trust him enough, even now, to let go like this. To rest.

It shouldn’t make his chest ache the way it does. Shouldn’t make him feel like holding onto you for as long as he can, even knowing that morning will come, that you’ll wake up and everything will still be broken. That the walls will go back up, the distance will return.

But for now—just for now—he lets himself be selfish.

Carefully, he shifts, tightening one arm around you as he maneuvers you gently onto the mattress. You murmur something in your sleep, brow twitching like you might stir, and he stills, waiting, breath shallow. But then you sigh, sinking deeper into the bed, the tension in your face easing again.

He exhales, moving slowly as he reaches down, carefully slipping off your shoes. The laces are damp from the cold outside, your socks barely warm enough to fend it off. He makes a mental note to find a spare blanket, something heavier, something that will keep you warm.

He tugs the comforter over you, tucking it lightly around your shoulders.

Then, he just—pauses.

Standing there, watching the slow rise and fall of your chest, the way your fingers twitch slightly against the fabric.

You have a long way to go.

There are things you both need to say, things you can’t keep burying under silence and unshed tears. This—whatever it is—can’t stay suspended in fragile moments like this forever.

But right now, that doesn’t matter.

Right now, you’re here.

And for tonight, that’s enough.

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mentalhomosexual · 1 month ago

Text

‎‧₊˚✧[𝘚𝘬𝘻 𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘺𝘰𝘶'𝘳𝘦 𝘰𝘷𝘶𝘭𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 ]✧˚₊‧

ᯓ★ Pairing: Straykids x Fem reader

ᯓ★Tags: cumming inside,Minho calls reader a slut, just smut with no plot, they're all horny idk 🤷🏽‍♀️

˖࣪ ⊹𝘊𝘩𝘢𝘯⊹ ࣪ ˖

────────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───────────

Chan could always tell when you were ovulating...imo I feel he would be the kind of boyfriend that would like to keep track of your cycle so he could know when he needs to buy you snacks and spoil you completely rotten BUT when it comes to ovulation that's a different story. He loves to tease you and see how riled up you get, like coming behind you and kissing your neck, knowing how much you love it, he whispers into your ear, pressing his clothed bulge against you but the moment you start to press back and softly moan he pulls away, leaving you hornier than you already were. :'(

Don't worry though, he'll fuck you after. And he's rough. he knows that's how you like it when your ovulating, your face pushed into a pillow as he pulls your hips back to meet his.

"Fuckk..it feels good doesn't it baby?"

˖࣪ ⊹𝘔𝘪𝘯𝘩𝘰⊹ ࣪ ˖

────────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───────────

He knows that your ovulating but he makes you wait for it, he pretends not to notice your lustfull gazes at him or your lingering touches, he can't help it he just loves to tease you, but he can only deny you so long before he wants you just as bed. He fucks you relentlessly. Face shoved into a pillow with your ass up, you love being fucked dumb by him, wheather you're ovulating or not. Harsh slaps to your ass as he tells you how much of a slut you are. True paradise. 🤌🏽

"Such a slut aren't you? want me to breed your pretty pussy, baby?~"

˖࣪ ⊹𝘊𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘣𝘪𝘯⊹ ࣪ ˖

────────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───────────

He secretly loves it. You get so worked up just seeing his muscles. he makes sure to wear sleeveless shirts and tank tops around you just to see you fight back demons, he lets you do whatever you want because he knows how rapid you become during ovulation, he lays back with an arm behind his head as you ride him. He tells you how beautiful you are ontop of him and you swear you see stars...maybe one baby wouldn't hurt ? 🤩

"so pretty baby—fuck, you feel so good"

˖࣪ ⊹𝘏𝘺𝘶𝘯𝘫𝘪𝘯⊹ ࣪

─────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ────────

Of course, Hyunjin would give you whatever you wanted during ovulation. He secretly likes it too, 🤫. He's hitting it from the back, your fucked out moans filling the room, your turn your head back and start mumbling words.

"What's the matter baby? Talk to me" he grins as he sees your face, your practically drooling on yourself.

"Mmm...take the condom off...wanna feel all of you~" you whine, He grins at your request, he does as he's told before immediately sliding back inside you, your eyes rolling back at his quickening pace, the tip of his cock kissing all your sweet spots. This was a surprise to Hyunjin because you're usually so on top of using protection and judging by the way you're rolling back to meet his thrust, moaning and whining like a baby and telling him to fuck you raw...oh you're definitely ovulating, it turns him on seeing you so desperate for his cum like this.

"Such a nasty girl, huh? Wanting me to fuck you raw"

He says lowly as he leans down and kisses your neck, You nod as you push back against him more.

"Oh my goddd...fuck I'm gonna cum, baby please~" You whine as you bury your face into the pillow.

"Please what?" He teases, leaning up against the shell of your ear, whispering into it knowing full well what you're asking for, He just likes to hear you say it.

˖࣪ ⊹𝘏𝘢𝘯⊹ ࣪ ˖

─────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ────────

This sex addict doesn't even notice a change. You two fuck so often that when you randomly want to go a couple more rounds than usual he thinks nothing of it.

"pleasee~ want you to fuck me againnn" you whine as you claw at his back, you've both cum like 4 times already and he's becoming sensitive but like I said, He doesn't stop. Overstimulating himself in your pussy is like a dream to him, he could do it for the rest of his life and die happy.

"Mm, gonna milk me fucking dry aren't you, baby?~"

˖࣪ ⊹𝘍𝘦𝘭𝘪𝘹⊹ ࣪ ˖

─────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ────────

He would be a obvious to it at first, as he cuddles with you he notices that you groan when his head shifts on your chest...he look at you with his cute little concerned face before speaking

"What's wrong? Am I hurting you?" He asks softly, you chuckle and Shake your head

"No you're fine, my breast are just a bit sensitive..I'm ovulating" you admit and it all strarts to make sense why you've been so clingy and sensitive lately. His cheeks flush a light pink.

"Oh, I'm sorry, love" he apologizes as he pulls you closer to him, he kinda feels bad for not noticing sooner. He apologizes by burying his face in between those beautiful thighs of yours, eating you out till you cry 💖

"You always taste so good angel, cum on my face one more time, yeah?"

˖࣪ ⊹𝘚𝘦𝘶𝘯𝘨𝘮𝘪𝘯⊹ ࣪ ˖

─────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ────────

He knows something is up when you become extremely clingy. It's something you always tend to do when that time comes around. You sit straddled on his lap as you softly make out, he doesn't question nor deny you when you're like this, who is he to turn down mind-blowing sex? He listens to everything you babble to him as he fucks into you.

"You want me to cum inside of you? I wanna hear you beg for it first~" He chuckles menacingly at your pathetic high pitched pleas.

˖࣪ ⊹𝘑𝘦𝘰𝘯𝘨𝘪𝘯⊹ ࣪ ˖

─────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ────────

This nasty boy operates as if he can ovulate too. It doesn't matter what you're wearing or how you look, he's gonna get rock hard just looking at you. You're doing laundry, throwing the clothes in the washer and you feel him sneak up behind you, already feeling his bulge press on your lower back.

"I just wanna bend you over this machine and fuck you right now" he whispers into your ear, nibbling on the lobe, you feel him push into you more, you bite your lip as his hands come up to knead your breast, you sigh in pleasure before pushing your ass against him.

"Then why don't you do it then?~" you grin as you turn you head back to meet his gaze, you certainly don't have to tell him twice, he fucks you like there's no tomorrow, like he'll never see you again. It's enough to leave your legs wobbly for a couple days but it's worth it

"Can you feel me deep inside you, baby? Gonna let me cum inside of you?"

2K notes · View notes

4linos · 2 months ago

Text

they call you clingy pt. 2

ot8 x fem!reader

genre: slight angst. hurt/comfort. fluff. (mostly) happy endings.

wc: 8916

(read they call you clingy pt. 1 first)

bang chan

When Chan returned home later that night, he was overwhelmed with guilt. He expected to be greeted with a warm embrace, maybe even a soft joke about how awkward he had been earlier. But when he entered your shared bedroom, he was greeted with silence. The lights were dark, and you sat on the edge of the bed, back to him. "Y/N?" He called out quietly, almost pleading.

You did not respond.

Chan's heart fell as he got closer, but you flinched when you felt him behind you. He stood there for a while, unsure of what to do, before finally speaking, his voice trembling. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to say what I said. It was a terrible joke. Please… please look at me.”

You turned your head slightly, just enough for him to see the tear tracks on your cheeks. Your eyes were red and swollen, and your expression was tight, like you were holding everything in. The sight broke him, and he stepped forward, kneeling in front of you, trying to meet your gaze.

“I didn’t mean it, Y/N. I was frustrated, and I let it all out in the worst way. I’m so sorry, I should’ve never said that. You’re not clingy. I don’t think that at all. I was wrong. I never should’ve made you feel that way.”

You shook your head slowly, your voice cold. “No, you meant it. I heard the way you said it. You don’t want me around. You think I’m suffocating you.”

“I don’t,” Chan whispered urgently, his hands reaching out to touch yours, but you pulled them away. “I don’t think that. I swear. I don’t want you to think that at all. I just… I don’t know what came over me.”

But you didn’t want to hear it. You wanted to believe him, but the words still stung too much. The way he had looked at you with indifference, how he dismissed your presence like it was something burdensome. It wasn’t just the words it was the way it made you feel so small, like you weren’t wanted.

You stood up suddenly, avoiding his touch. “I just need some space, Chan. Please. Just leave me alone tonight.”

Chan flinched, but he didn’t argue. He nodded, his heart breaking as he quietly walked out of the room. He knew he had crossed a line, and the weight of that reality hit him hard. He didn’t sleep well that night, tossing and turning on the couch, feeling the distance between you both like a wall that couldn’t be scaled.

The next morning, Chan woke up early, with his mind still filled with guilt. He'd apologized the night before, but he knew it wasn't enough. He needed to express how sorry he was and how much he cared. He crept quietly into the kitchen and began preparing breakfast, hoping to get it right for once. When the smell of pancakes and coffee filled the apartment, he returned to your bedroom, gently knocked on the door before opening it slightly.

You sat on the side of the bed, looking out the window. Your back was still turned to him, but when you heard him enter, you had stayed still.

Chan took a deep breath, his voice soft. “I made breakfast… for us. Please, can we just eat together? I want to talk.”

You didn't say anything at first, but eventually nodded and stood up, following him into the kitchen. You both sat silently, the tension hanging between you like a cloud. Chan pushed the dish of pancakes toward you, his hands shaking slightly. He took a breath and spoke again, his voice full of earnestness.

"You were not clinging, Y/N. I was wrong. You aren't suffocating me. I adore having you around; I always do. I… I'm not sure why I said that. My frustration clouded my judgment, and I hurt you. I'm really sorry."

You didn’t answer right away, but the tightness in your chest slowly loosened. You looked up at him, seeing the genuine regret in his eyes. His usual bravado was gone, replaced by a vulnerability you hadn’t seen before.

You sighed softly, wiping a stray tear from your cheek. “It just hurt, Chan. I… I don’t want to be a burden to you.”

“You’re never a burden,” he said quietly. “You’re my partner. I want you to be with me. Always. You nodded, the words finally sinking in. “I’m sorry, too. I shouldn’t have shut you out.”

He reached for your hand, squeezing it gently. “No, I deserve it. I’ll make it up to you. I promise.”

And for the first time in what felt like forever, you both ate in silence, the unspoken understanding between you filling the room with a quiet comfort. The hurt was still there, but you knew you could heal it together.

lee know

The warmth from the burns on your leg persisted, but the coldness in your chest stung the most. You sat on the edge of the bed, carefully placing a cold compress against your skin, hoping that the discomfort sting would ease.

Your mind was racing, trying to figure out what had just transpired in the kitchen. Minho, your Minho, had yelled at you, and the words cut worse than anything physical could. You couldn't understand how it had come to this.

You had tried so hard to help, to lighten his burden, but instead you had made matters worse. The kitchen was a wreck, your leg was on fire, and your heart felt like it had been ripped open by the very person who had always made you feel safe. You wanted to believe it was just a moment of frustration, something that could be forgiven, but the distance between you both felt insurmountable.

When Minho’s voice called from the living room, it felt like the world’s weight pressed on your chest. “Hey... can we talk?" He sounded tired, but there was an undertone of hesitation, as if he wasn’t sure if you’d even listen.

You didn’t respond, hoping the silence would send the message you weren’t ready to face him just yet. But moments later, the sound of his footsteps in the hall brought you back to reality, and before you could register, he was standing in the doorway of your bedroom.

His expression shifted from confusion to panic when he saw you sitting there, the cold compress against your leg, and your tear-streaked face. His eyes widened, a rush of guilt flooding over him.

"What... what happened?" His voice was quieter and more uncertain now. He took a step forward, peering down at the reddening skin on your leg. "I—oh God, did you burn yourself?" His eyes scanned yours for a response, his hand quivering slightly as he reached out to touch your leg. You didn't say anything. You couldn’t find the words. The burn hurt badly, but the heaviness of his words in the kitchen made it intolerable.

Minho's hands shook as he gently led you to lie down on the bed. "Why didn't you tell me sooner?" His voice cracked slightly as he rubbed a cool cloth on the burns, the chill alleviating the sting slightly.

You finally let yourself to cry, tears rocking your chest and the emotional weight coming down on you. You didn't understand how much you were holding back until the tears started pouring freely. "I-I'm sorry for the soup," you said through sobbing. "I didn't mean to ruin everything. "I just... wanted to help."

Minho's face softened, expressing regret and disbelief. He wiped your tears away with his thumb, his voice barely audible. "Stop. I don't care about the soup. Not when you're hurt. "Why didn't you tell me you were in pain?"

His words felt like a balm to your wounded heart, but they didn’t erase the ache. You buried your face in his chest as he leaned down to kiss your forehead gently, his breath warm against your skin. “I’m so sorry for what I said. I shouldn’t have yelled at you. You don’t deserve that... you never deserve that.”

The sincerity in his voice made your chest tighten even more. You clung to him, your arms wrapped tightly around his torso, needing his warmth, his presence. “Minho... I just—everything went wrong today. And then you... you made me feel like I was a burden.” Your voice trembled, and the weight of your emotions finally broke free.

Minho’s arms tightened around you as he whispered into your hair, “I never meant to make you feel that way. I was frustrated, and I took it out on you. But you are not a burden. You never will be. I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.”

You could feel his hands softly comb through your hair, comforting you as you kept crying into him. The tears weren't simply over the soup, the burn, or the day's failures. It was all about trying to keep things together, to be strong, and not show how overwhelmed you were. And everything came tumbling down in his arms. "I should have been there for you today." "I should have seen how much you were struggling," Minho said, his voice thick with regret. "I'm not upset at you. I should never have said that. I'm so sorry."

You nodded into his chest, the tears slowly subsiding as his comforting words washed over you. Despite everything, despite the mess and the hurt, there was still love between you two, even if it was lost in the chaos for a moment.

“I love you,” Minho whispered, his hand gently wiping away the last of your tears. “Please, forgive me.”

You pulled back slightly, meeting his eyes. There was nothing but tenderness there now, no trace of the frustration that had clouded his expression before. “I love you too,” you said, your voice still shaky, but steadying. “I know you didn’t mean it. I just... I just had such a bad day. Everything went wrong, and I was just trying to fix it... and I ended up making it worse.”

Minho kissed your forehead again, his lips lingering for a moment. “You don’t have to fix everything. You don’t have to carry it all alone. I’m here. I’ll always be here. Let me help you.”

You nodded, feeling a sense of relief settle over you as his arms wrapped around you again. “I’m sorry, too,” you whispered, hugging him tighter. “I just... I wanted to help you. To make it better. I didn’t mean to make things worse.”

“I know,” Minho whispered back. “And you didn’t make it worse. I promise.”

As the silence between you two grew, the storm within you began to calm. It wasn't entirely mended yet, but for the first time that day, you felt like you weren't going through it alone. You felt at ease in his embrace, and you gradually began to hope that things can get better again.

changbin

Changbin's breath came out in weak, raspy gasps as he stood there watching you walk away. Every instinct in his body shouted for him to go after you, to draw you back and explain himself, but something in the air held him still. The severity of his own words resonated in his thoughts, a jarring reminder of the damage he had just done. You were hurt. And now, so was he.

He watched as your form disappeared through the exit, the door closing softly behind you. The gym suddenly felt suffocating. The weight of his own anger and frustration, which he had not yet fully comprehended, seemed to settle in his chest like a stone. He turned over, and his face flushed, his head dizzy with regret. He never wanted to make you feel like this, never wanted you to feel like a burden. His mind was spinning with confusion, but one thing was painfully clear: he had messed up. Badly.

He stood there for a long time, eyes fixed on the door, as if begging you to return, but he knew it was pointless. He had said too much. The damage was done.

You'd never felt smaller than you did at that time. Changbin's words felt like a hefty blow to the chest, knocking the air out of you. You weren't expecting him to snap. Sure, he'd been distant before, but this was different. The sharpness in his voice, the way he stared at you with irritation and anger, hurt in ways you couldn't articulate.

You didn’t know how long you had been walking for when you found yourself in the parking lot, your car now looming in front of you like a silent reminder of what had just transpired. You stood there for a moment, your hands trembling as you fumbled to unlock the door. The cold night air bit at your skin, but the chill in your chest felt much worse.

Why was he so angry?

You understood that sometimes people needed space, but you had no idea that your presence, which you expected to bring you closer, would make him feel overwhelmed. The realization hit you hard: He had been letting you to follow him about because he didn't know how to express his need for space. And, in the end, when he exploded, it broke the fragile link you had formed with him.

Your eyes stung with the promise of tears, but you pushed them away. You weren't sure if you were ready to let them fall yet.

You got in the car and drove aimlessly at first, wanting to get away and clear your mind. The drive seemed to go on forever, but you couldn't escape the agony in your chest. You eventually pulled over onto a quiet street and parked. You allowed the silence to settle in, the only sound being the faint hum of your car's engine.

Your phone buzzed, and you looked at it nervously. It was a message from Changbin. Your finger hovered over the screen, unsure whether to open it or not. But the yearning for an explanation, some attempt to make sense of it all, was overwhelming. So you opened it.

Y/N, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to snap. I didn’t mean to make you feel unwanted. Can we please talk?

You bit your lip, your eyes scanning the words over and over. His apology felt sincere, but it didn’t erase the sting of what he had said. How could it? And yet, a part of you still wanted to hear him out, to understand where he was coming from, even if it hurt.

You debated texting him back. Part of you wanted to ignore him, to hold onto the distance you felt was needed right now. Another part wanted to reach out, to explain that you weren’t trying to smother him, that you just wanted to be close.

Instead of responding, you did the one thing you never thought you’d do: you called him.

The phone rang a few times before he answered. “Y/N?” His voice was soft, hesitant, almost nervous.

You swallowed the lump in your throat. “Can we talk?”

A long silence passed. You could hear him take a deep breath on the other end. “Yeah. I think we need to.”

Back at the gym, Changbin had barely managed to collect himself before his phone buzzed in his hand. When he saw your name on the screen, he almost couldn’t believe it. He had messed up so badly, and yet, you were still willing to talk to him. His heart beat faster as he swiped to answer, his voice coming out quieter than he intended.

“Y/N?” he asked, hoping he wasn’t imagining this.

“I… I’m still upset, Bin,” you said, your voice shaky. “I don’t know what to think. I didn’t mean to make you feel like I was invading your space. I just… I wanted to be close to you.”

“I know,” he whispered, guilt flooding his chest. “I should’ve told you sooner. It’s not your fault. I don’t want you to feel like that… like I’m pushing you away. But I just… the gym was the one place where I could just be by myself, clear my head. And when I didn’t have that anymore… I didn’t know how to handle it.”

You nodded even though he couldn’t see it. “I didn’t know. I thought… I thought you’d like it. That maybe it would be something we could do together.”

“I do like spending time with you,” he said, his voice steady now, more sincere. “I really do. But I didn’t realize how much I was taking it out on you. I didn’t mean to hurt you. And I’m sorry for how I said it. I shouldn’t have snapped like that. You’re not a burden to me, Y/N. You’re the last person I want to hurt.”

You closed your eyes, trying to steady yourself. “I just wanted to be close to you. I didn’t realize I was making you feel suffocated.” There was a long pause before he spoke again. “I know. And I should’ve communicated better. I just didn’t know how.”

“I understand,” you replied softly. “I just… I need a little time. To process this.”

Changbin’s heart sank, but he understood. “Yeah. I get that. Take the time you need. But please know I’m here. I don’t want to lose you over something that should’ve been a misunderstanding.”

You inhaled deeply, feeling the weight of the conversation. It wasn’t fixed, not yet, but you could feel the tension easing a little, the sharp edges of the pain starting to soften.

“Okay,” you said quietly. “We’ll talk more when I’m ready.”

“Whenever you’re ready,” Changbin replied, his voice full of warmth despite the distance between you. “I’ll be here.”

The call ended, leaving a quiet, uneasy space between you two. You were unsure where this would lead or what would happen next. But perhaps, just maybe, you can find your way back together.

hyunjin

The next morning, you woke to a cloud of confusion still hanging over you. Hyunjin's remark from last night, as well as the way he pushed you away, played on an unending loop in your memory. The hurt was still fresh, but you were beginning to wonder why. Why had everything changed so dramatically? Why had Hyunjin, who you had always trusted, suddenly become distant?

You'd barely slept, your mind knotted in a web of despair, confusion, and betrayal. Everything seemed odd as you tried to get through the day. The calm hum of your daily routine had been replaced by a heavy silence in your chest. Your phone remained silent, and you weren't sure if that was a relief or something else entirely. You couldn’t decide whether to hope Hyunjin would reach out to explain himself or whether it was better to just forget it all.

But then, in the late afternoon, your phone buzzed. It was a text from him.

Hyunjin: Can we talk? I need to explain.

Your stomach twisted, both nervous and cautious. You stared at the message, weighing the possibility of opening the door to this conversation. You didn’t know if you were ready to hear whatever he had to say. Still, part of you needed answers, even if they were painful.

After a few moments of hesitation, you typed back.

You: Where?

Hyunjin: Meet me at the park in 30 minutes. Please.

You took a deep breath and, despite everything, found yourself getting ready to meet him. Part of you was angry, but there was another part, the part that still missed him, that needed to understand. You had always believed in the strength of your friendship. You didn’t want to just throw that away without knowing what had really happened.

When you arrived at the park, the air felt cool against your skin, and the trees around you swayed gently in the breeze. The park was quiet, mostly empty, with only a few scattered joggers. You found him near a bench, hands shoved in the pockets of his hoodie, his posture tense. He stood as soon as he saw you, but neither of you moved closer at first. There was an awkwardness between you two that felt thick enough to cut.

“Hyunjin,” you said softly, your voice almost faltering. "You wanted to talk?"

He nodded but didn’t say anything right away. He just stood there, staring at you as if he wasn’t sure how to start. Finally, after a long pause, he exhaled sharply and took a step closer.

“I’m sorry,” he began, his voice low and unsure. "I know I hurt you last night, and I—I need you to know that wasn’t my intention. I’ve been… I’ve been a mess, and I didn’t know how to handle it. I don’t know how to deal with these feelings.”

You furrowed your brows, the confusion growing. “Feelings? What are you talking about?”

Hyunjin seemed to hesitate, as if he was unsure whether to voice the words out. But after a moment, he added, his voice breaking slightly: "I—I like you. More than just a friend. I had for a while, but I wasn't sure how to deal with it. So I tried pushing you away. I figured if I detached myself from you, it would go away. That I could let go of these feelings."

The words struck you like a thunderclap. For a while, you just stood there, your mind spinning, trying to make sense of what he had just revealed. Hyunjin... liked you? Was it why he had been so distant? All the time you'd spent wondering what had changed, what had gone wrong… it was this?

He looked at you, his eyes full of vulnerability, guilt, and something else that you couldn’t quite name. “I didn’t know how to deal with it, and I thought… if I pushed you away, I could just forget. But the more I tried to ignore it, the worse it got. And last night, I just… I didn’t know how to act around you anymore. So I lashed out. I didn’t mean to hurt you. I never wanted to hurt you.”

You stood there, silently absorbing his words. The knot in your chest relaxed, but it was replaced by something else: a rush of feelings you couldn't quite describe.

You had no idea how to handle this revelation. You had been wondering what had happened to your friendship, why things seemed so tense, and now it all made sense. But it was overwhelming. You never saw it coming.

"I don't know what to say," you confessed gently. "I did not..." I didn't realize you felt that way. All I saw was you slipping away, and I wondered if I had done something wrong. I didn't realize it was about this."

“I should have told you,” he said, his voice cracking slightly. "I was so afraid of ruining everything, of losing our friendship. But instead, I ended up pushing you away. I thought if I could stop being close to you, I could stop feeling this way. I was wrong."

You felt a mixture of emotions rise up relief, anger, sadness, confusion. But beneath it all, there was something else: you understood now. He had been trying to protect himself, even if it meant hurting you in the process. It didn’t make his actions right, but it made them a little easier to comprehend.

“So what now?” you asked, your voice softer than before.

Hyunjin took a step closer, his gaze intense. "I don’t expect things to go back to how they were immediately. I don’t know how to fix this. But I want to try. I want to be honest with you now. If you don’t feel the same, that’s okay. But I couldn’t keep pretending anymore. I couldn’t let you think you didn’t matter."

You paused for a long moment, the weight of his words sinking in. Part of you still felt hurt, but another part of you your heart, maybe was softening. You had always cared about him. The idea of more than just friendship… it was a lot to process, but you realized that in some way, you were willing to listen, to figure out what this meant for the two of you.

“I don’t know what’s going to happen next,” you said, finally meeting his gaze. “But I’m not going to lie and say I don’t care. I do. I care a lot. We just need time. To figure this out.”

Hyunjin nodded, his eyes filled with a quiet hope. “I’ll give you time. I won’t push you. I just needed to say it. To be honest.”

The two of you stood there for a while, neither of you moving, but there was a shift a change in the air. For the first time in weeks, it felt like there might be a way forward. Maybe it wasn’t simple, maybe it wasn’t easy, but at least you had the truth. And that, you realized, was enough to begin again.

HAN

The silence lingered for what seemed like hours, the kind of silence that enveloped you both like a thick cloud. You hadn't moved, still curled on the bed, eyes locked on the wall, as if it might give some answers. You couldn't get the idea that something inside of him had permanently shifted, that whatever had cracked tonight had been building up for a time and was now beyond your control.

Jisung said nothing, did not try to pull you closer, nor did he give his usual soothing words of regret. But he had not left either. His presence next to you, despite its normal comfort, suddenly felt like a distant recollection, a piece of him that had vanished.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, you heard him shift on the bed beside you. His voice was barely a whisper, but you could tell he was struggling, his words thick with emotion.

“I’m sorry,” he said, and you could hear the weight of the apology, like he had been holding it back for so long it had become a raw, painful thing.

You stayed silent, not sure what to say. He had hurt you, and though you wanted to forgive him, you couldn’t shake the sting of his words. His harshness had cut deeper than anything he’d said before, and you weren’t sure if it was the exhaustion of the day, or something more, something that had been building up between you two for a while.

“I didn’t mean it, Y/N,” he continued, his voice shaky, as if the apology itself had become difficult to express. “I’m just… I’m just tired. I don’t know how to deal with everything. But that doesn’t excuse how I snapped at you. You don’t deserve that. You never do.”

You eventually allowed yourself to turn towards him, your gaze scanning his face, and you saw the weakness there, the same vulnerability you had always seen beneath his normal confidence. His fists were clasped in his lap, and his shoulders bowed, as if he were bracing for the impending storm.

"You are not a burden, Y/N." "You're not clingy," he continued quietly, his voice much lower now, as if the apology was gradually peeling away the layers of irritation and hurt. "I just.. I'm not always sure how to let you in. I am so overwhelmed that instead of accepting your help, I push you away."

Your heart squeezed. You could see the conflict in his eyes, the way he was battling with himself, trying to figure out how to make it right without knowing how.

“I’ve been so used to dealing with everything on my own,” he continued, looking at the floor as if he couldn’t bear to look you in the eye. “I didn’t want to burden you with my problems. I didn’t want you to see me as weak. But instead, I ended up hurting you.”

The vulnerability in his words hit you hard, and it took everything in you not to reach out and wrap your arms around him. You knew he had been struggling, you knew it. But hearing him admit that he had been keeping things from you, afraid of showing his true self, only made the ache in your chest grow.

“I don’t think you’re weak,” you whispered, your voice cracking slightly. “I think you're strong. But you don’t have to do everything by yourself, Jisung. You don’t have to hide it from me.”

He shook his head, eventually meeting your eyes. His eyes were filled with sadness, but there was also a quiet desperation in them, as if he didn't know how to mend the rift between you two.

“I just... I'm so sorry. I don't know how to ask for help," he said, his voice full with sorrow. "But when you try to help me, I... I push you away because I'm not sure how to let you in. But you aren't a burden, Y/N. You have never been one. I just didn't know how to handle anything on my own, so I ended up pushing you away when all you wanted was to be there for me."

The honesty in his words was almost too much to bear. You had always known Jisung to be someone who wore his heart on his sleeve, someone who could make light of even the darkest situations. But now, seeing him like this, so raw and open, made your chest tighten.

“I don’t want you to push me away anymore,” you said quietly, your voice barely above a whisper. “I want to help you. But I can’t help you if you keep shutting me out.”

Jisung's lips twitched, as if he wanted to say more but couldn't find the right words. Instead, he simply nodded, the impact of his quiet screaming loudly. He didn't need to say anything else because you could feel the pain in his chest and all the frustration he'd been carrying around for too long.

For a long time, the two of you merely sat there, your quiet now distinct. It wasn't the crushing stillness of earlier, but one filled with empathy, even if neither of you understood exactly how to mend anything.

After a while, Jisung reached out, his hand hesitating before softly stroking your arm. The warmth of his fingers across your skin brought back memories of how simple things had been between you two. He didn't say anything unnecessary, but you could sense his apology in the way he held his hand there, letting you know he was sincerely sorry.

"I'll try to do better," he answered simply and softly. "I will try to let you in more. I do not want to push you away anymore."

You nodded, your heart still heavy but not as broken as it had been moments ago. “I just want to be there for you, Jisung,” you said softly. “I don’t want you to have to go through everything alone.”

The quiet stretched again, but this time, it felt different. It felt like a beginning. Neither of you knew how to fix everything right away, but you both knew that you wanted to try. And sometimes, that was enough.

Jisung shifted closer, his hand still resting on your arm, and for the first time in what felt like forever, you didn’t feel so distant from each other. There were still things left unsaid, but in that moment, it didn’t matter. What mattered was that you were both here, both willing to try again.

felix

The hours passed by in agonizing silence, the kind that made everything seem more impossible than it actually was and stretched and clawed at your thoughts. Nothing could take away the icy emptiness that had descended between you and Felix, even as you lay there, wrapped up inside yourself, listening to the gentle buzz of the night.

When the world got too much, he would wrap up with you and reassure you with soft touches and quiet words. You recalled the warmth you had previously enjoyed. Now, it felt like a lifetime ago. His distance was more than just physical; it was something that made your chest hurt since you didn't know how to make it better.

But as much as you wanted to lie there, to let the hurt consume you, you couldn't. You couldn't just wait and wonder if things would somehow improve on their own. You were the kind of person who needed closure, who needed to understand what was happening. And right now, Felix was slipping through your fingers, and you didn’t know how to stop it.

You sat up, wiping at your tear-streaked face, and glanced towards the living room. The faint glow from the TV still flickered through the hallway, casting a cold light on the darkness of the apartment. You could feel the weight of the choice pressing down on you: Should you leave him be, give him the space he seemed to want, or should you push through, confront him, and demand answers?

You hesitated for quite some time. But then you made a decision. You needed answers. You needed to understand why the person you loved had abruptly shifted into someone you didn't recognize. You moved along the hallway, the apartment's silence more oppressive than before.

Felix kept his position on the couch, his eyes looking blankly at the TV, his posture tight and walled off. You stayed there for a moment, studying him, trying to determine whether he noticed your presence.

His eyes didn’t leave the screen. His face remained unreadable.

"Felix," you said again, your voice steady but laced with emotion. This time, there was no hesitation in your tone, no softness. You needed him to hear you.

He didn’t respond immediately, but you could feel the tension in the room shift slightly, as if he knew you were waiting for him to say something. When he finally spoke, his voice was lower, quieter than before.

“I told you I don’t want to talk,” he said, almost in a whisper. But this time, the words weren’t as sharp. There was something else in his voice, something you hadn’t heard before. It wasn’t anger, but a deep exhaustion, a weariness that seemed to go beyond just physical fatigue.

You didn’t take a step back this time. Instead, you closed the distance between you, sitting on the arm of the couch, your hand brushing lightly against his. It was small, a gesture that once would have meant nothing, but now it felt like everything. You needed him to know you were still here, that you hadn’t given up.

“Felix,” you repeated, softer this time, your voice trembling with vulnerability. “I know something’s bothering you. And I get it. You don’t have to talk right now, if you’re not ready. But I need to know—am I the problem?”

When you asked the question, his head snapped towards you, his eyes wide with amazement, as if he had never considered it before. For a brief moment, his gaze softened, and you thought you caught a glimpse of the old Felix, the one who used to share everything with you, the one who would always turn to you when the world got too much.

"Of course not," he said gently, his voice husky. He took a deep breath and wiped his face with his palms before running them through his hair. "You aren't the problem. "I just...I’m a mess right now, okay? I did not mean to push you away. I didn't know how to deal with it, and I thought if I could draw back, maybe it would get better.”

His words hung in the air, and for the first time in what felt like days, you understood. Felix had always been the strong one, the person who seemed so capable of handling everything on his own. But now you saw how much he was struggling beneath the surface, how much he had been hiding.

"You don’t have to carry it all alone," you said, your voice gentle but firm. "Felix, we’ve always been a team. You can lean on me. You don’t have to push me away just because you’re having a hard time."

He was silent for a long moment, his gaze flickering to the floor, then back up to you. The tension in his shoulders finally seemed to ease, and he let out a long breath. It was as though a weight was slowly lifting, and for the first time in days, you saw a glimpse of the Felix you had known and loved.

“I’m scared,” he admitted softly, his voice breaking slightly. “I’m scared of being a burden. I’m scared that if I show you how much I’m struggling, you’ll leave. I’m scared you won’t love me if I’m not always the one who has everything together.”

The rawness of his confession hit you like a wave, and for a moment, you just sat there, your heart aching for him. You had always known Felix to be strong, but in this moment, you realized just how vulnerable he was beneath it all, and how much he had been carrying alone.

“You don’t have to be perfect for me, Felix,” you said, your voice steady despite the lump in your throat. “I love you, all of you—the good, the bad, and everything in between. You don’t have to be anything but yourself.”

Felix finally looked at you, his eyes wide, his expression almost disbelieving. The walls that had been built up around him seemed to crack ever so slightly, and you could see the relief in his eyes. He swallowed hard, then reached out, taking your hand in his.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered again, his grip tightening around your fingers. “I’ve been pushing you away for no reason. I was just so scared.”

You shook your head gently, squeezing his hand. “It’s okay, Felix. You don’t have to be scared. We’ll get through this together.”

For a minute, you just stood there, the two of you having an unsaid understanding. There was still a lot to sort out, and the path ahead would be difficult, but you knew that if you were both ready to try, you could do it.

As Felix drew in closer, resting his forehead against yours, you felt the warmth of his presence return, as well as the relief that you hadn't lost him despite everything. Not yet.

And for the first time in days, you allowed yourself to believe that things could be better.

seungmin

The morning light filtered softly through the kitchen windows, casting a dull glow over the room. Seungmin walked in, a faint sigh escaping his lips as he poured himself a cup of coffee, his mind still half-occupied by the rehearsals and everything waiting for him outside the walls of this apartment. But as he sat down at the breakfast table, he was immediately hit with an unexpected shift in the air.

There was no cheerful greeting from you, no attempt to share a quiet moment together before the day began. Instead, you sat across from him, silently eating your breakfast, your gaze fixed on the plate in front of you. Usually, you’d be making something small, even if it was just a quick toast or coffee, a gesture that made mornings feel connected. But today, the stillness felt suffocating.

Seungmin frowned, the weight of the silence pressing down on him. He didn’t quite understand why you weren’t speaking, but he knew something wasn’t right. He set his cup down, meeting your eyes for the briefest of moments before his voice broke through the quiet.

"What’s wrong?" he asked, his tone a bit strained, not sure if he was even ready to hear the answer.

You did not respond immediately away, keeping your gaze fixed on your food and your jaw tight as if the words you wanted to say were locked between your teeth. But they didn't come, and your silence spoke louder than any argument. Seungmin waited, his patience dwindling as time passed.

Finally, you scoffed, making a little but harsh sound that seemed to cut through the air, and you stood up from the table, pushing your chair back with an audible scrape.

"I don’t know, Seungmin," you shot back, your voice tinged with frustration, barely holding back the anger bubbling beneath the surface. "Maybe I’m just tired of feeling like I don’t matter to you."

He blinked, taken aback by the intensity of your words. Before he could respond, you stormed off, the door to the bedroom slamming shut behind you with a force that rattled the still air. Seungmin sat there, the taste of the bitter coffee suddenly unfamiliar in his mouth, his mind spinning. He hadn’t expected this. Not after everything that had happened last night.

The rest of the day felt like a blur. He went through the motions work, meetings, rehearsals but your words lingered in his mind, a constant hum of unease. By the time he returned home that evening, the tension was unbearable. He hesitated by the front door, unsure of what to expect. Normally, he would have found you sitting on the couch, or you would have greeted him with a small smile, asking about his day. But tonight, there was only silence.

He walked into the apartment, his footsteps faltering slightly as he noticed you in the corner of the living room, avoiding his gaze completely. You sat curled up on the couch, eyes fixed on the television but not really seeing anything at all. He stood there for a moment, taking in the sight of you, and the hollow feeling in his chest deepened.

"Can we talk?" he asked carefully, his voice laced with concern. His eyes searched yours for any sign that you were ready to listen.

You didn't respond immediately, your body rigid and remote. His heart fell as he saw the look on your face, as if a part of you had closed off, trapped behind a door he couldn't open. "Please," he said, getting closer. "I don't know what's going on, but..." "I can't fix this unless you tell me."

You snapped your head up, your eyes burning with a mix of pain and frustration. Your voice was more emotional than usual. "You don't get it, do you, Seungmin?" You stood up abruptly, raising your voice with each word. "I have tried. I've been trying for days to get you to come see me and realize that something is wrong! But all you have done is brush me off, make me feel like I’m too much for you, like I’m just… clingy."

His eyes widened in realization, the words you had uttered earlier in the morning returning to him with a crushing force. He had no idea it had gotten this bad, nor did he realize how much his words had hurt you until now. And it stung when the weight of his own stupidity fell on him. You carried on, your voice cracking as you talked.

"You've been really distant, Seungmin. And when I try to talk to you or look for your attention, you just push me away. You make me feel as though I am a burden. And I can't keep pretending that I don't feel it.”

Seungmin opened his mouth, but no words came out. He stood there, completely stunned, his chest tightening with regret. He had been so wrapped up in his own stress and exhaustion, so focused on his own battles, that he hadn’t realized how far apart you had grown, how much pain you had been quietly carrying.

He swallowed hard, stepping closer, his voice small now, barely a whisper. "I never meant to make you feel that way. I… I didn’t realize how much my actions were hurting you."

But your anger had already started to bubble back up. You shook your head, arms crossed tightly against your chest. "How could you not realize, Seungmin? How could you not see how much I’m struggling with this? I needed you, but you’ve been so… so cold." You paused, your breath shallow. "I needed you to care. To see me."

The words stung like salt in an open wound, but Seungmin couldn’t deny the truth in them. His heart clenched, and without thinking, he moved toward you, pulling you into his arms before you could step away.

"I’m so sorry," he murmured, his voice thick with regret. "I didn’t mean to make you feel invisible, or like you were too much. I’ve been so caught up in everything that I forgot to see you, to notice what I was doing to us." He held you tighter, his grip desperate now, like he was trying to hold onto something he feared was slipping away. "Please forgive me. I don’t want to lose you."

Your body trembled against him, but for the first time in what felt like ages, you didn’t pull away. You rested your forehead against his chest, letting out a shaky breath, your emotions swirling but slowly softening under his touch.

"I just need you to be present, Seungmin," you whispered, your voice muffled against his shirt. "I need to know that you’re here with me. That I matter to you."

"I hear you," he whispered softly, gently touching your face and lifting your head to meet his gaze. His embrace was raw and vulnerable in a way you had not seen before. "I hear you, and I promise to do better." I will make you feel seen. I will make sure you understand how much you mean to me."

You nodded softly, your heart aching but glad for his genuine remarks. The path to healing would take time, but for the first time in a long time, you felt confident that he would accompany you on it.

I.N

The next day, Jeongin arrived at your apartment, his normal bright smile on his face as he walked through the door. It was as if yesterday had never happened. His aura was light and carefree, as if he hadn't just disrupted the peace you had previously enjoyed in your relationship.

You, on the other hand, were still reeling from his cold demeanor the night before. The hurt persisted, and you couldn't shake the weight of his words. Stop being so clingy. It wasn't the first time someone had made you feel small, but it hurt more than you expected, especially coming from him.

You didn't answer as usual, and you didn't greet him with the warmth he had grown to expect. Instead, you kept your distance by giving him short, clipped answers. You preoccupied yourself with little things in the apartment, refusing to make eye contact in the hopes that the stillness would bridge the gap between you. The tension in the room, however, was palpable.

Jeongin didn't seem to notice right away. He went about his usual business, jokingly discussing his day and laughing as if everything was alright. When he reached for your hand, you automatically pushed it away, indicating that something was wrong. His smile faltered, and the warmth in his eyes was gradually replaced by confusion.

"Hey," he said, voice soft, the smile still not fully gone but now laced with a hint of concern. "What's wrong?"

You looked up at him, saw the real confusion in his eyes, and almost let it go. Almost let go of your pain for his smile, for the Jeongin you adored. But the words you'd been keeping in all day sprang to the surface. "What was that yesterday?" You snapped, your voice filled with emotion. The anger, hurt, and confusion you'd been harboring all night had finally bubbled over. "You were an entirely different person. One minute you were fine the next you were pushing me away, telling me I was too clingy. What was that?"

Jeongin blinked, taken aback by your strong tone, his eyes wide as if he had not expected such an outburst. His posture tensed, and for a brief period, you could see the walls he had built to protect himself from whatever discomfort was brewing inside. But that didn't erase the fact that his actions had harmed you more than he knew.

"If you want to act like that, maybe we should just break up," you muttered, the words tumbling out before you could stop them, a mix of hurt and frustration in your voice. "I don't want to be with someone who suddenly treats me like I'm a burden just because they're worried about what others think.”

The silence that followed was heavy. Jeongin’s expression faltered, his brows furrowing as if the idea of you breaking up was the last thing he expected. His eyes softened slightly, and his voice became almost breathless as he spoke, not quite believing what you’d just said.

“Wait… what?” His voice wavered, the hurt in his eyes clear now. "No, no, that’s not what I meant. I didn’t mean to hurt you."

You crossed your arms, feeling the burn of frustration building again. You needed answers. “Then what was it, Jeongin? Why did you act like that? I thought we were fine, but now… now I don’t know where I stand with you.”

He exhaled shakily, his hands running through his hair as he paced for a moment, clearly struggling to find the right words. After a beat of silence, he stopped in front of you, meeting your eyes, this time with a vulnerability that was both unexpected and painfully familiar.

“I… I love you," he began, his voice steady but filled with an edge of fear. "I love you so much, but I was afraid… I was afraid that if we showed too much PDA, the members would tease me relentlessly. They’re always joking about stuff like that, and I didn’t want them to make fun of me, of us."

The explanation hung in the air, and for a moment, all you could do was stare at him, stunned. Was this actually the reason? Was he so concerned about what his members thought that he distanced himself from you, his girlfriend, in front of them? You struggled to wrap your head around it.

"Are you embarrassed of me?" The question fell out of your mouth before you could think. The thought of it twisted something inside you, the possibility that he might consider you as something to hide rather than something to be proud of.

Jeongin’s face immediately morphed into one of panic, as if the very suggestion cut him deeper than anything you could have said. “No! God, no. I would never—” He stepped forward, his hands reaching for you, but you instinctively took a small step back. He stopped, his hands falling to his sides, the hurt in his eyes obvious now.

“I’m sorry,” he said quietly, his voice barely above a whisper, the weight of his confession hanging between you two. "I never meant for you to feel like that. I just… I just didn’t know how to handle it. I didn’t want the members to think I was soft or that I couldn’t keep my cool. But I was wrong. I was so wrong. I’m sorry for pushing you away, for making you feel like I didn’t care about you."

His words were a mix of regret and sincerity, and as he spoke, you could feel the depth of his struggle, the dread of being judged and ridiculed that kept him from completely being himself with you. It wasn't that he didn't love you; it was just that he hadn't understood how to balance his feelings with the demands of his life.

You stood there, silent for a moment, contemplating what he had just said. Your heart was still raw, but you could see remorse in his eyes and feel it in the way he stood, as if he was waiting for you to decide what to do next.

Finally, you spoke, your voice quieter than before, but the hurt remained beneath the surface. "I don't care what others say, Jeongin. I care about us. I want to be able to express my love for you without having to worry about what others might say."

He nodded quickly, his stare focused, and took a slight step toward you. "I promise I won't do it again. I will never make you feel that you are too much, or that I am embarrassed by you. You are more than just someone I care about; you are someone I am proud of. And I will do better. I will."

You held onto his gaze, seeing the honesty in his eyes and sensing the truth in his words. It was not a simple fix. There was work to be done and trust to be rebuilt, but you could tell right away that he was eager to give it his all.

"I just need you to be honest with me," you muttered, feeling the tension between you begin to ease. "That's all I want."

Jeongin's expression softened as he made one final step forward, closing the gap between you. His hands met yours, and his contact was warm and grounded. "I'm here. I'm actually here. And I will make sure you never feel that way again."

(❌ proofread)

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jeonginsleftcheek · 11 days ago

Text

Dolly VI

~ part 6 of the Dolly series

pairing: changbin x afab!reader

genre: smut, fluff, sci-fi

synopsis: Being the CEO of a big company meant you were always buried with work, staying late at the office, never having time to yourself. Your employees have a habit of giving you funny gifts to make you get out and live your life a little, as they say. Even though you expect crazy gifts from them, you never expected to get something that would change your life forever.

wc: 8.0k

warnings: unprotected sex, creampies, oral (m)

~ divider by @bunnysrph

Another sigh passed your lips as you rubbed your temples, the screen in front of you blurring for a moment and making you close your eyes tightly. You leaned back in your chair to stretch, you've been sitting in the same position for hours.

"Wow." you muttered, realizing your legs were actually numb. It was time to get up, at least for a moment, you thought and stood up. You made your way to the big glass windows behind your chair and stared at the view of the city.

Here, on the top of it all stands your dream. You've worked hard to get to where you are, dedicating your entire life only to your career. You knew nothing else but work, yet sometimes it felt as if everything was about to crumble underneath your feet.

A knock on your door snapped you out of your thoughts.

"Come in." you said after clearing your throat.

"Miss, I brought you the papers you asked for." it was your assistant, Maxine. The poor girl had to stay behind with you every time and you made sure to pay her those extra hours well, feeling bad that you had to make her stay here on a Friday night.

You turned and smiled slightly at her, nodding towards your desk.

"You can leave them there. Thank you, Maxine." you said and she nodded, putting the big stack of papers on top of the other, smaller stack you were almost done with.

"You can go home, Maxine. There's no point in you being here plus it's Friday, you must have somewhere better to be than at work." you added and her eyes widened slightly.

"Are you sure miss?" she asked and you nodded.

"Of course, have a good weekend!" you said with a smile.

"Thanks, you too boss!" she smiled back and exited the office, leaving you alone with your thoughts and papers.

You glanced at the table, calculating how long you'll be here but then you noticed a light pink envelope sticking between the papers. With furrowed brows you came closer to the table, pulling the envelope out.

'From your faithful employees, consider this an early birthday gift to the best boss ever!'

You chuckled when you read the writing on it, your fingertips running over the various signatures of your employees. What did they have up their sleeve now?

You opened up the envelope and pulled out the little card inside, reading it quietly.

Hello,

my name is Changbin and I am your strong dolly.

I love going on gym dates and after that eating some good food! I enjoy watching movies so I hope you'll share your favorites with me.

Please be tender with me, even though I seem tough, I need someone to lean on too so don't forget to give me a hug.

Hope you will come to love me as much as I love you.

"What?" you chuckled then saw someone added something on the card.

'We got him delivered to your house, enjoy!'

No way. Did your employees buy you a sex doll?

Your face warmed up instantly. Those bastards, you chuckled to yourself, the nickname more of an endearment than an insult.

Maybe the papers could wait until tomorrow.

It was raining hard when you finally parked in front of your building, rushing inside with your bag shielding your head. You almost tripped over your legs, your heels making it hard to run.

The building was completely quiet as you stepped into the elevator, pressing the button 12. You looked down at your watch, it was almost 2am. You shook your head, impatient to see what the gift looked like.

There was a huge box in front of your apartment door and you made your way there quickly.

After unlocking your door, you dragged the box inside, almost falling over a few times. After quickly closing the door and throwing your heels off of your feet, you decided to open the box immediately, no more waiting.

"Oh. Look at that." your heart skipped a beat.

This Changbin doll definitely looked like a man you'd turn your head after if you saw him in the street. At least your employees seemed to know your taste.

At the same time, you were curious, you've never seen a doll that is so humanlike. Gulping, you kneeled down next to the box and reached out to touch his face.

"Tell me your skincare routine." you chuckled, playing with his hair a little.

You noticed a piece of paper stuck between his fingers so you grabbed it gently and looked at it.

My honey!

I chose a comfy outfit for us to enjoy a movie together!

Hope you'll love our first night together as much as I will!

Honey. You blushed profusely at the nickname.

Have I been single for so long that this got me going?, you asked yourself, feeling embarrassed.

Yet, you couldn't even remember the last time someone flirted with you. And if they did, it probably went over your head because you were only thinking about work 24/7. Even now, you had brought the papers home so you can finish everything during the weekend.

Your stomach growled and you stood up, holding the manual for the dolly as you heated up some dinner. You needed to eat healthier food, you knew that. But who has time for cooking when you're working 24/7?

You read the manual carefully, flipping the pages as you ate your dinner; leftovers from yesterday. Not ideal, but you had no other options at this moment. Your face started burning suddenly when you got to the section about what the doll was made for and what it can do.

"Oh my god." you quickly closed the manual with a little giggle. You glanced at the box, deciding to take a shower and get rid of your suit first.

When you were finally refreshed, feeling like a new person, you made your way back to your new doll.

"How do I get you out?" you pursed your lips. Yes, you did some yoga but you had no idea if you could lift up an entire human sized doll.

You pushed the box to your room, putting it next to your bed. With all the strength you could gather you managed to pull Changbin out of the box and place him on top of your covers with your body giving out and plopping down on top of him.

"Oh." you were surprised by the warmth of his body. You didn't really follow the latest technology developments, only using what you needed for work and daily life, but this must be some new and advanced technology you've never come across.

You crawled under the covers, putting them over Changbin too as you grabbed your phone and checked out the site with the dolls. Their primary function was to be used for pleasure but you felt like Changbin could be more than that. Maybe a cuddle buddy? You chuckled and pressed your cheek against his chest as you laid half of your body on top of him. You could feel the muscles underneath the clothes he was dressed in and it made your heart skip a beat.

You continued scrolling through the site, seeing the other doll models, some of them sold out. They were all charming in their own way, but you were sure you'd choose Changbin if you were buying one by yourself.

"Wow, only one of each?"

You scrolled all the way to the end and in the left-hand corner you saw very small letters saying: property of BIMT.

"BIMT?" it sounded so familiar, and you couldn't remember where you had heard that before.

You shrugged, too tired to think or look at your phone anymore so you put it aside and hugged your Changbin dolly, happy to have a warm body to hold during a usually lonely night.

You had never slept this well in your life, so well that you didn't even hear your alarm clock trying to wake you up.

"Fuck!" you exclaimed once your eyes opened and you noticed it was past 10am.

Usually, during the weekend you'd still wake up earlier, around 7am so you could go for a run and do your stretching or yoga session. Plus, the weekend was the only time you could clean up your apartment thoroughly.

What surprised you even more, was that you were turned on for some reason. You must've had some interesting dreams to wake up like this.

Embarrassment seeped into you as you looked at Changbin's face. You scanned around your room as if someone was watching you, which of course no one was. But you felt so awkward using the doll.

You propped yourself on your elbow and hovered over Changbin's face.

"Hello. Good morning." you waved in front of his face but of course he didn't even blink.

"How do I do this?" you chewed on your lip. You observed him for another moment before placing your palm on his chest and tentatively sliding it down. Your hand explored slowly and gently, working yourself up as you touched his defined muscles.

"Huge..." you gasped a little when you gripped at his bicep. Your body was heating up and so was his, the doll was getting excited. You read it in the manual but seeing it happen was something else. Licking your lips, your hand slid down more as you threw your leg over him, your knee brushing against his bulge.

"Oh." your eyes widened and you stopped for a moment to catch your breath, before sliding your hand down to touch him. Your doll was definitely big.

Something inside you snapped and you forgot about being embarrassed quickly as you started moving against his thigh. You whined, finding a good position to where you could straddle his thigh and continued your ministrations. The dolly seemed somehow... happy. Your cheeks warmed up suddenly, it felt like his attention was on you, like his eyes were actually looking at you. Your knee kept brushing against his erection, making him twitch in his pants.

"It's like you're alive." you whispered, mesmerized.

You bit on your lip and decided to rid him of his pants and underwear.

"Oh my." you slapped your hand against your mouth. "Changbin." you giggled after saying his name, it felt good to feel it rolling off of your tongue.

Taken by the moment, you got rid off your clothes and his shirt too, admiring his beautiful body. You wanted to take your time with him and kiss him everywhere, explore him with your hands but that would have to wait for another time when you're not this desperate to get off.

You hovered over him before sitting down, your wet pussy pressed against his hard cock.

"Ah." a little moan escaped your lips as you started grinding on him with slow and languid movements, enjoying the way Changbin's cock kept twitching against you like he wanted in.

Your embarrassment completely disappeared, turning into pure pleasure as your clit kept dragging against him, your pussy clenching to be filled up. You lifted your hips just a little to grab his cock and slowly push it in, even though he was bigger, you took him well like he was made just for you.

You put in the work as you bounced on top of him, your hands roaming on his belly and chest, across his perky nipples as you grabbed at him. He was heating up even more, matching the heat of your body and the hot atmosphere created inside your room. You looked at Changbin's face and gasped, it seemed as if he was smirking ever so slightly. Your pussy clenched at the thought of him being alive and touching you too so you sped up, the sound of skin slapping skin echoing loudly in the otherwise quiet room.

"Binnie." you whimpered and he twitched hard. It was right there in the manual, just keep saying his name.

"Binnie." you said again, your movements becoming sloppier as you got more tired and closer to your high. "Changbin!" you groaned loudly once you exploded, riding your high on top of him as you gyrated your hips. Tears gathered in your eyes from the overstimulation you brought to yourself as you kept repeating his name until he exploded inside you, filling you up with ropes of warm cum.

"Fuck." you cursed, lifting off of him, feeling all sticky and embarrassed again.

"I must be crazy." you shook your head and ran to your bathroom to get cleaned up. Of course, you cleaned your dolly too and then looked at his face more closely, biting on your lip and trying to see if there were any changes in his expression.

"You need a hug, right?" you said before putting your arms around Changbin. It felt so comforting to be wrapped around him.

Your weekend was mostly uneventful as always, but this time you had Changbin watching over you as you cleaned around your apartment. You managed to take him everywhere by putting him on your office chair with wheels.

"You could help, you know?" you grunted before continuing to vacuum the living room.

Changbin's eyes followed you while you cleaned and while you did your yoga. He watched as you sat hunched over your computer in your home office and worked, typing quickly and going over all the papers you brought home. He watched you struggling with the groceries and cursing quietly.

He wished he could help.

Monday came around too quickly and you rolled out of bed reluctantly, not wanting to separate from Changbin's warm body.

Spring was around the corner, but it was still cold in the mornings and you wanted nothing more than to stay in bed all day. But, you had a really important meeting today and you couldn't afford to be late. You were in a frenzy, getting dressed quickly as you had almost overslept through all your alarms.

"You're making it hard for me to leave my bed." you smirked at Changbin, shaking your head slightly as you grabbed your bag.

"I'll see you later, cutie." you kissed his lips and practically skipped all the way to your car.

Was it pathetic that a doll made you feel this happy?, you thought. Maybe it did, but who cares, you weren't harming anyone plus it was a gift and you should be thankful for it.

As soon as you arrived to your office, one of your employees, Tina, smirked at you.

"Good morning, boss! Did you like our gift?" she asked and you blushed profusely immediately.

"I really did. Thank you." you said and she chuckled.

"If we land this deal, you promised to take some time off. I hope you still mean that." she said, walking with you. Everyone knew you barely took time off, they'd have to pry you off of your desk and force you to finally rest.

"When we land this deal. Not if." you smirked at her, saying hello to a few more other employees as you passed them by.

"Good morning!" Maxine greeted you cheerfully. "All the reports for the meeting are ready on your desk and I prepared the presentation room for you."

"Oh, always so fast." you chuckled.

"Just keeping up with you, boss." she winked, following you into the office. You left all your stuff there and quickly looked through the reports, having already studied them, this was going to be a piece of cake for you.

Where you were shy in your personal life, at work you were the complete opposite, your ambition and drive brought you to high places and you had no problem with biting hard and showing off your skills and knowledge.

There were at least twelve people in the room and you took a deep breath in as you stood in front of them. Maxine nodded at you with a thumbs up.

The presentation went smoothly and the partners were satisfied with your results and conclusions, the deal has been made.

"Congratulations, boss! Now you can take your vacation!" Maxine said and you laughed.

"Well, maybe I should stay a little bit more to-"

"No, no. You need some wildness in your life away from all the seriousness, suits and papers, hm?"

"Maxine is right. If anyone deserves this vacay, it's you." Tina agreed and you smiled.

"I hope you two know that I will be checking in all the time." you waved your finger and both of them laughed.

"Of course." Tina nodded and you took her to the office since she'd be taking your place while you're away. The rest of the day passed by fairly quickly, even with you staying longer as always. A zap of electricity ran through your body when you remembered someone was home, waiting for you and your undivided attention.

Changbin.

"Maxine, tell Tina I got all the reports ready for our new partners and if she needs anything she can call me any time. Same goes for you." you rushed out and she looked at you with her brows lifted.

"Of course. Have a good time on your vacay!" she said, chuckling because this was the first time you were leaving before her.

It was raining again when you ran into your building, forgetting to bring an umbrella so you used your bag as a shield from the water once more. The first thing you did after shucking your shoes off and throwing your bag aside was run to Changbin.

He was in the same position you left him, leaned on your headboard in your bed, tucked in with a blanket.

"Hey there." you smiled and grabbed his face, kissing his lips. You had missed him all day.

"We are going on a vacation." you nodded to him with a smile. You had to admit, you felt kinda excited to finally be away from work and your repetitive routine. You just wished Changbin would come to life and enjoy the break from every day stress with you.

The next day, everything was prepared, the bag you packed was in the trunk, the tank was filled up and most importantly Changbin was in the passenger seat, strapped in and ready. You were going to drive over to your old house, where your parents used to take you for vacation when you were a kid. It was a bit out of town, a little house close to the lake. It used to be different before, there were more things to do there but you heard that some rich guy bought off most of the people who lived there so he could own the land.

Your little house was away from that area, perfectly in the middle of nowhere. Just what you needed to get your mind off of work. You got into the car and put on your favorite playlist before you started driving.

The tall city buildings soon turned into seemingly never-ending fields. You felt better instantly upon seeing the nature all around you. The sun was beating down on your car and you decided to open up the windows and let the air in as you drove and sang. Your eyes kept flitting towards Changbin, his pretty face and the way the wind kept playing with his hair. He looked so soft and sweet in those moments, making your good mood become even better.

Maybe someone would call you crazy for taking your sex doll to a vacation with you but he was more than that. You had a feeling he would be.

You drove for hours, it was almost dark when you finally parked in front of the old house. It was a little worn out since no one came out here anymore, especially after your father died due to illness and your mother had moved back to her hometown, taking care of your grandma. You visited them whenever you could but you were always swamped with work, you barely had time for yourself.

You put your bag inside first but getting Changbin in was a challenge that you somehow managed to conquer with all the strength you gathered.

"Oh my god." you huffed when you finally placed him on the sofa. "Ugh." you scrunched up your nose, realizing you have to do some cleaning up before anything else.

You got to work, cleaning up the place as you listened to some music and danced around, making the annoying chore more fun. Changbin watched you from the couch, a shadow passing over his eyes before they sparkled just for a moment. Of course, you didn't see it being too into your performance.

After cleaning up and filling up the fridge with some groceries you brought in a portable one, you decided to take a shower and change.

"Binnie, are you hungry?" you asked your sweet dolly and you could swear his eyes moved for a moment.

You tilted your head and stared him for a while, finally deciding you just imagined it.

"I guess you are." you chuckled and moved to the kitchen to prepare some dinner.

It was weird spending the afternoon cooking and sipping on wine, listening to music without a care in the world, knowing you don't have to go into work tomorrow. Or bring work to your house. Which reminded you to call Tina.

"You barely even left and you're worried already?" she chuckled.

"Just making sure everything is okay."

"Of course! I got everything under control." she assured you but you still wanted a recap, the perfectionist inside you craving to know that everything was indeed going well.

"Are you having fun though?" she asked after the report and you looked around the sparkly clean house, your eyes then landing on Changbin.

"Definitely." you said.

"Well, take care boss. We need you refreshed once you come back!"

"Of course. Have a good day, Tina."

"You too!"

You hung up and sat down to eat, looking up at Changbin a few times. After your meal you made your way to the couch, you couldn't wait to cuddle up to him.

"Let's see if there's any signal here." you muttered, turning the tv on. Luckily, the signal was good, even better than it used to be before, surprising you a little. You shrugged it off and put your legs in Changbin's lap, your head on his chest. Your own personal teddy bear.

The heat of his body and the relaxed state you were in slowly brought warmness in your navel, spreading throughout you and dripping on your panties. You bit on your lip and nuzzled into his neck, kissing his skin. Your hands started roaming his chest, the muscles you admired and liked so much. Your lips traveled on his skin and you stripped his shirt so you could continue leaving gentle kisses all over him. You unbuttoned his pants, pulling the zipper down and then sliding them off of him with his underwear.

The sight of Changbin's cock all hard and leaking for you made you salivate, your heart beating hard against your chest. You wanted to taste him, feel the weight of him on your tongue so you kneeled down between his legs, sticking your tongue out and licking a stripe along his length.

"Oh." you were deliciously shocked when you realized he tasted sweet. It spurred you on to continue and you wrapped your lips around him, sucking on his tip and tasting more of his pre-cum. You struggled taking all of him in as you slid down, wrapping your hand around the base.

You knew Changbin probably wouldn't cum this way, since your dolly loved hearing his name moaned out before climaxing so you were doing this more for your own fun and enjoyment, revelling in the way he twitched inside your hot mouth.

You bobbed your head up and down for a while, making yourself gag a few times when you pushed in too far, your panties getting progressively more soaked. You released him with a pop and leaned back to look at him.

"Need you, Binnie." you whimpered before stripping and sitting on his lap. You wished he would reciprocate, you yearned to be touched by him. Closing your eyes, you adjusted and grabbed his length, slowly pushing it in and sitting down on him until he bottomed out inside you.

You wrapped your arms around Changbin so you could be as close to him as you can before you started moving on him slowly, feeling every inch of him filling you up and stretching your pussy perfectly.

"Binnie." you moaned out as you fucked on him slowly, feeling him twitch inside you immediately.

"Whoops." you giggled and sped up, chasing your high that has been building up ever since the moment you tasted him. The tip of Changbin's cock kept brushing against your spot every time you smacked your hips down, making you whimper and clench around him.

"Changbin!" with a loud whimper of his name you came all around him, making him finish inside you as you rode your high and held onto him, your sensitive nipples brushing against him deliciously.

"I'll be right back." you said as you stood up.

You cleaned yourself and your doll before getting dressed. You only had him for a few days but you already felt like you couldn't live without him. He was giving you some sort of comfort that you haven't felt in a long time.

"I wish you could go on a walk with me now." you sighed after calming down a little and drinking some water. It was dark out and you weren't really comfortable with walking around the lake and in the forest completely alone so you decided it would be smarter to do that in the morning.

That night you cuddled up with Changbin again, feeling happy that you brought him with you.

Early in the morning, you already had your coffee and quick breakfast before checking in on Tina and Maxine. You couldn't help it even though you knew that all your employees were more than capable, it was you who hired them after all.

"I'll be back soon, Binnie." you kissed your dolly, tucking him in with a blanket and leaving the tv on for him.

You walked the familiar path from your house to the lake, knowing it like the back of your hand. It almost stayed the same as it was, the only difference is that it seemed more quiet, abandoned. A few of the nearby houses were almost completely fallen apart, the wood ruined by the rain and the wind. It made you a little sad to see a place once so lively devoid of everything.

That's when you noticed something peculiar, right as you started on your way towards the forest. It was all too quiet. It seemed like there was no insect, bird or any kind of animal nearby. Usually, there were ducks in the lake, you remembered feeding them with your parents and you also remember running away screaming from all sorts of insects when you were a kid.

"Hm." you mused out loud as you continued walking. It felt a little eerie, the hairs on the back of your neck standing.

Then you heard it, a humming sound. Your brows furrowed as you followed the sound cautiously.

You didn't expect to run into a huge fence built around a building you were sure wasn't there before, because there used to be multiple houses and a children's park there. You squinted your eyes, trying to see if there was someone there but all you saw were windows with bars on them and darkness on the inside.

Then you noticed a familiar logo on the side of the building.

"Where have I seen that?" you wondered out loud.

The humming stopped suddenly, making your eyes ring as you swallowed. Fear clawed up from your stomach to your throat and you turned on your heel, something inside you telling you to run.

You didn't stop running until you got to the house, bursting in loudly, closing and locking the door quickly. Your heart hammered wildly in your chest and your eyes landed on Changbin instantly.

Making your way to him fast, you crumbled into his arms. You tried to even out your breath and calm down, all the while asking yourself who bought all the land, why was there a fence, what was the humming sound, why was that logo familiar to you?

You decided to take a relaxing bath and make some yummy lunch to forget about the weirdness of your morning.

"Oh, Binnie I am so glad you're here. Without you I'd feel so lonely." you told your dolly while you cooked. His eyes moved until they were looking directly at you, his fingers twitching against the couch, but you didn't notice, concentrated on making the food.

You spent the rest of the day inside the house and cuddled up to Changbin again that night.

You slept well until your dreams were invaded by the humming sound from earlier and it seemed as if it was louder, closer, vibrating against your body. You were confused, still on the verge of sleep, eyes still closed as your body shook.

"W-what?" you croaked out, it was as if something was shaking you. Your eyes snapped open and you realized it was Changbin, he was... vibrating?

You reached for the lamp quickly, panic rushing through your veins when suddenly he took a desperate breath in, his head turning towards you.

You shrieked, backing away and falling off the bed.

"W-what the fuck?!" you backed away until you hit the wall.

"W-water. P-please." his voice sounded raspy and you gasped, standing up and staring at him. Was this supposed to happen? There was nothing about the dolls talking and needing water in the manual.

"Please." Changbin looked at you desperately and you nodded, running downstairs before coming back up with a water bottle.

"I'm sorry." he apologized as soon as he chugged the bottle down.

"F-for what?" you asked, standing on a distance.

"Scaring you. This humming noise. It makes me tickle on the inside. It itches, it woke me up." he explained.

"You can hear that?" you asked, coming a little closer to him.

"No, I can feel it." he said. "Don't be scared of me."

"I'm- I'm not, just confused." you let out a chuckle at the absurd situation. "The manual never said anything about you coming to life."

"The manual." Changbin scoffed.

"What?" you asked and he shook his head.

"I wish I could remember who made me and who wrote the manual." he answered as you sat on the bed.

"Do you remember anything?" you asked.

"My friends? They were with me before. I don't know where they are now, all I know is I miss them." he sighed.

"Are these your friends?" you asked as you pulled up the dolly site on your phone.

"Yes! That's them." Changbin leaned in to look at the pictures. "This one." he pointed to a doll named 'Chan'. "He was the first. He took care of us after something happened. I- I can't remember what happened, but I know it was painful."

"Ugh, the humming again!" Changbin jolted, hugging himself.

"Hey, hey, calm down. We can leave right away if it's bothering you this much, don't worry." you placed your hand on his arm, trying to calm him down.

"Really?" he looked at you with sweet pitiful eyes, making your heart melt.

"Of course." you nodded and stood up, grabbing your bag and packing up immediately.

"You took all of this with a very calm attitude." Changbin scratched his head.

"I'm used to crisis, it happens at work." you said, packing up quickly. "I wouldn't be where I am if I let my emotions interfere in situations like this."

"That's what I admire, you're so dedicated to your work." Changbin said, slowly standing up, his legs wobbling a little. You paused your movements and looked up at him.

"You were aware of everything happening since you came to me?" you asked and he nodded sheepishly.

"Oh." you gulped, your face warming up. Now, that was a situation that threw you off just a little.

"I, um, I'm hungry." Changbin said and you chuckled.

"There's food downstairs, you can heat it up and eat all of it while I get everything ready for us to leave."

"Thank you." he smiled.

"No need." you answered, still feeling a little embarrassed about the fact that he was aware of everything you did to him during the last few days.

You managed to grab all your things and pack them up, turning off everything right as Changbin finished eating.

"Let's go." you said and he stopped you before you opened the door.

"Are you sure it's safe to go out? It's the middle of the night." he noted.

"I think we'd be safer in the car than staying in here?" you said and he sighed.

"Okay then, let's leave."

As soon as you walked out, you could hear the humming noise more clearly as if it had gotten louder during the night.

"I can't take it." Changbin started scratching at his body again.

"Get in the car quickly."

Luckily, you had enough gas to last to the first gas station so you buckled up and hit the pedal, getting the hell away from that creepy place.

Changbin felt better the more distance you put between the car and the lake.

A few days later, since you were still on your vacation, you were enjoying getting to know Changbin.

It was as if he was human and lived an entire life, even though he couldn't remember it at all. He could only put together bits and pieces, talking mostly about his friends and some disaster that happened, an awful feeling filling him up as he tried to remember more of it. All he could think of was Chan who tried to protect him and the other dolls. They were all alive then.

"Do you think they came to life too?" you asked that afternoon as the two of you cuddled, some movie playing in the background but you weren't paying attention to it.

"I would hope so. I wish we could find them." he sighed.

"Maybe we can. I could pull some connections."

"Really? You'd do that?" he smiled instantly, sitting up excitedly.

"Of course. Look, you probably heard me..." you grimaced but continued. "When I said I'm happy to have you, I was really lonely before and I was actually hoping you'd come to life."

"Does that mean I'm your boyfriend now?" Changbin giggled and you melted on the spot.

"Yes." you nodded and he pulled you into a bone crushing hug, making you squeal and chuckle.

You were sure he was made just for you.

Making your way from a refreshing shower, you didn't expect to be pinned to the wall by Changbin as soon as you walked into your room.

"B-Binnie!" you eyes widened, a zap of electricity running through your body instantly, making you feel aroused in the matter of milliseconds.

"I've wanted to do this from the moment I saw you." he said lowly, making you gulp as you stared into his darkened eyes. He was silently asking for your permission and you nodded ever so slightly, your heartbeart speeding up.

Changbin's lips quirked up in that cute smirk you adored on him, his hands sliding down your arms to the towel wrapped around your body. He undid the knot and let it fall to the floor, his eyes raking all over your exposed body.

You felt like your breath got caught in your throat when Changbin leaned in and pressed his lips on yours. Time stopped for a moment before he brought you back to earth with his hands on your chest, squeezing your breasts as he started moving his lips against yours. You parted your lips to let him in, he was sweet and hot at the same time, making your body yearn for his so you arched into him.

Smirking against your lips, Changbin let his hands travel lower, until they touched your thighs. You shivered as he kept kissing you, his fingertips ghosting on your inner thigh. Your moans were muffled against his lips and he kissed you harder before leaning back, letting his hand rest between your thighs as he touched your pussy.

"So wet for me." he smirked.

"B-Binnie, please." you whimpered.

"Please what, honey?" he kept smirking as you whined.

"I need to feel you." you whispered, your cheeks heating up.

"I need to feel you too." he couldn't really tease you for too long, the more he slid his fingers against your pussy, bringing the wetness up to your clit, the more it made him twitch in his pants.

You were overpowered by want and your hands flew to his shirt. It didn't take long for him to be as naked as you were. He was already hard and dripping, eager to bring you pleasure.

Changbin's arms gripped at the back of your thighs. "Jump." he smirked and you gasped, jumping up while he helped you, wrapping your legs around him. The tip of his cock rubbed against you, making you clench.

"H-here?" you whispered and he smiled.

"Why not?" Changbin whispered back and you held onto him tightly, your arms wrapped around his neck, fingertips grazing at his upper back.

"Okay." you whined as he pressed into you, his tip slipping between your folds.

"Mm, so good." he groaned, pushing in and you welcomed him, shaping around him perfectly as he bottomed out.

"Binnie." you moaned out, your nails digging into his skin.

"D-don't say my name yet." he gripped at your hips and you bit on your lip, trying to hold in your desperation. Changbin slowly started to move, his cock spreading your pussy apart deliciously.

"A-ah!" you whimpered as his tip brushed against your spot with each languid thrust. His lips found yours in a passionate kiss as you held onto him, trying to bring your hips closer to him.

"M-more." you whined.

"More?" he breathed out, his voice shaky. He was holding back.

"Please Binnie, fuck me harder, please!" you begged desperately, your pussy clenching around him and making him inhale sharply.

"As you wish, honey." he smirked a little before all hell broke loose when his hips started snapping into yours with vigor. He knocked the breath out of your lungs as you scratched at his skin, your entire body shaking from the force he fucked you with.

You couldn't help it, you were moaning so loudly, not even caring if your neighbors could hear you as Changbin kept fucking into you hard, the tip of his cock brushing against your spot every time he pushed in deep. You held onto him for dear life, you couldn't even feel your legs in that moment.

His little desperate moans filled up your ears, making you even more wet than before, adding to the high that was building up inside you.

"Are you gonna cum, honey?" he gripped your ass hard as he kept fucking you.

"Y-yes, gonna cum for you, Binnie!" you felt him twitch inside you and that was all you needed before you exploded, squirting on him and making him whine. His name kept spilling from your lips and his hips stuttered as he came, exploding inside you and filling you up.

"Wow." he breathed as he finally released you and you shook, holding onto him. Changbin lifted you up in his strong arms and placed your shivering body on the bed.

"I'll be right back, honey." he said and you nodded, still speechless.

Changbin came back to clean you up, bringing you a bottle of water.

"Did I hurt you?" he asked as you were silent.

"No, no, you were perfect Binnie." you smiled, reaching out to touch his face. "So good, that I'm just ready to sleep now." you added and he chuckled, puffing his chest out with pride.

You rolled your eyes playfully as your head hit the pillow and Changbin tucked you in much like you did to him, before he laid down next to you.

"Hey, y/n?" he whispered after a few moments of silence.

"Yes, Binnie?"

"I love you." he said and your heart skipped a beat. It was unbelieveable how quickly you came to love him too.

"I love you." you whispered back, kissing him before the two of you fell asleep in each other's arms.

Your days with Changbin were passing by like a breeze, and pretty soon you were already back to work. All your employees noted that you're glowing and that you've never looked happier, thinking it was the break that did that when in fact it was love.

Changbin had also managed to pull you out of the house more, the two of you going to the gym and enjoying active dates and you couldn't remember the last time you had so much fun with someone, let alone a boyfriend. It's like he knew exactly what you needed, sometimes even before you knew it.

He loved watching you cook, a lovesick look in his eyes as he propped his face up on his palm and just observed you.

"It'd be nice if you helped." you smirked, breaking him out of his trance.

"Yes, in a moment." he smiled then, grabbing your hand and stopping whatever you were doing as he gently pulled it towards him, pressing his lips on the top of your hand. You chuckled, goosebumps littering your skin as he stood up. Changbin stood behind you, enveloping his arms around you, his hands covering yours.

"This is not helping." you giggled when his breath tickled your neck.

"No?" he smirked, pressing himself into you.

You knew you weren't going to cook that dinner any time soon.

You felt lucky to have him, but there was one problem. You had tried getting some information through your workplace, about all the other dolls but whoever had sent them to the buyers, erased every trace of where the dolls have been sent. You couldn't track any of them and Changbin couldn't remember anything, no matter how hard he tried.

You kept thinking about the lake house, the humming noise and the weird building, the eerie quietness of the entire forest. It made the hair on the back of you neck stand, shivers running down your spine.

You tried researching it on the internet but came up with nothing.

Then one day, there was a call.

"Hello?" you answered with an unsure voice, the unknown number throwing you off. Especially because the call was on your private phone and not many people had that number. If it was business or anything of that sort they'd call you on your work cell.

Changbin looked up from the clothes he was folding and you shrugged.

"Is this miss L/n?" a monotone male voice asked.

"Yes, this is she." you answered.

"I understand you have Changbin dolly."

"Ugh. Yes." you looked at Changbin with a frown, and he came closer to listen.

"Well, we're sorry to inform you but the dolls have all malfunctioned and will need to be taken back. The money will be returned." you wondered how they knew the doll was gifted to you and how they had your number.

"What do you mean by 'malfunctioned'?" you asked suspiciously as Changbin eyed you nervously.

"We cannot discuss such matters unless you are part of the staff." the monotone voice answered.

"The staff?" your brows furrowed in confusion.

"Please, don't defy our command. We will come pick up the doll. Goodbye."

Click.

"Hello?" you stood there confused as Changbin's eyes filled with fear.

"I- I don't wanna go back there!" he panicked suddenly, grabbing at you.

"Hey, it's okay! We will find a way for you to stay. I don't want them to take you away either." you pulled Changbin into a hug and he wrapped his arms around you, squeezing you a little.

"I feel this fear inside me, I don't know why. That voice-"

"Do you recognize it?" you asked and Changbin nodded.

"I do. But I can't remember who it is. There is like... different faces in my head all coming up at the same time." he pursed his lips in thought.

"Okay, we could drive up to my mother and grandma tomorrow?" you suggested.

"How are you going to explain me to them?"

"I'll just say you're my boyfriend, none of the doll talk, okay? We met at a gym or something." you said and Changbin chuckled, caressing your face.

"How convenient." he joked.

"Hey, it's believeable!" you defended and he giggled.

"Fine, fine, it is." he agreed as the cogs inside your brain already started turning.

You had to plan out how to avoid work because you haven't told your coworkers anything about the doll they gifted you coming to life.

You just hoped you could get Changbin safely out of here.

Early in the morning you were already packing together with Changbin but a ring on your doorbell stopped you dead in your tracks.

"Who's here at 6:30am?" you frowned, walking towards the door.

After opening it and unlocking the door, Changbin trailing behind you, you gasped in shock. There were six men in suits standing on your doorway.

"We came to collect the doll." one of them said.

"You can't!" you yelled.

"Why?" the man asked.

"He is alive, he has free will and he doesn't want to go with you! Now leave, before I sue your entire company!" you tried threatening them but they just exchanged silent looks.

"Step aside. We are going to collect the doll."

"Over my dead body." you got angry but Changbin quickly interfered.

"Y/n, please be careful." he begged as the men stepped inside and you launched your body aside, grabbing the baseball bat you kept near the door.

Changbin gasped as they grabbed him, no matter how strong he was they somehow seemed stronger. He looked up and saw you swinging the bat at one of them men, his eyes wide.

The bat collided with one of the suited men's face, fear rushing through your veins when a piece of his skin came flying off, revealing wires beneath the facade of a human face.

You shrieked, stepping back and the man looked at you before pulling out a huge syringe and walking towards Changbin.

"Stop it! No!" you screamed but the other men grabbed you, throwing the bat aside and holding you back as you thrashed around, trying to escape their hold.

The syringe was plunged into Changbin's neck and he immediately slumped down. You kept yelling at them but they dragged him away, slamming your own door in your face.

You had no idea what to do in that moment. Your body slid down on the floor as you sobbed. They took away Changbin from you, the man who loves you. Anger bubbled up inside you and then you remembered.

Property of BIMT.

You scrambled to stand up and ran to your laptop, quickly typing it in.

"The logo!" you gasped, remembering the building near the house lake. You knew the exact location they'd take Changbin.

"Bang Institute of Modern Technology? Ugh, as in Helena Bang the famous scientist?" you clicked on the page.

You skimmed through the article, finding out that Helena had died five years ago from a mysterious illness, all her research and work falling into the hands of a rich man whose name was doctor Park.

"I'm coming to get you Binnie, don't you worry."

In his room, Felix heard commotion outside of the door. He rushed to it, his palms pressed against the cold metal as he peeped through the slit.

A few of the suited men were carrying Changbin towards another room, opposite of Felix's.

"Changbin! Changbin, can you hear me?!" Felix yelled desperately and one of them turned towards the sound, lifting his fist and pounding loudly against Felix's door, scaring him.

"Be quiet, number six!" the man yelled. Felix backed away with tears gathering in his eyes.

What will they do to them now?

taglist: @moonchild9350 @janepg @velvetmoonlght @hwanghyunjinismybae @jehhskz @porangporangmeong @laylasbunbunny @laughatdanger @jeonginslefthand @sapphirewaves @s3ungm1nxxl0ve @painterhyunjin @moon-ttokki-x @saintcosette @ooshyana @frehyun @scarlet789 @skzdust @schniti-is-in-the-house @eastjonowhere @sona1800 @channiesrightasscheek @justwonder113 @yvettemint @inaribu00 @httpdwaekki @possum-playground @ria-april @yn-x-them @mariahxrrera @0omillo0 @halfwinterhalfuniverse @cooldeermagazine @delulkpopstan143 @todorokiskitten @compersian @azxulskz @stayp1eceposts @minniesverse @skzdreamer13 @0325ale @j-ji-jia @shannthewriter @mhluvie @juskz @quokkacidal @chuuyaobsessed @whatdoyouwanttocallmefor @lixies-favorite-cookie @thelostprincessofasgard @linocvp1d @stayjinnie @portgasdbru @lilgothhishhh @selinia86 @felixsbabe @staytinyluva @sadroses98 @katexstay @gnabnahcsworld @hazelbazil @iwannahugchangbin @imperfectlyperfectprincess1 @skzfelixlove @skzjen @syedazarintasnim @geektacularmommom-blog @cookiesnmilfx @kayleefriedchicken @stxt-bby @strykdsstanot8 @hyunjinhwang2018 @binniesbabygirl @hyunjiniretti @linavc @julciaqwerty @salemluvsmusic @diipsy

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linoxpudding · 1 month ago

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Morning Cuddles - Seo Changbin

*gif credit goes to owner*

summary: sunday morning at seo household, changbin is whipped for his girls

pairing: seo changbin x reader

genre: fluff, domestic, married couple

word count: 624 words

a/n: this writing was inspired by this request ♡ changbin is so husband *sighs dreamily*

more binnie cuddles: read here

morning cuddles series:

Chan Lee Know Hyunjin Jisung Felix Seungmin I.N

Masterlist

~°~

It’s one of those slow, perfect Sundays—the kind where there’s no rush to be anywhere, no alarms, just the peaceful comfort of being home.

You wake up to soft babbling sounds, the sweetest melody to your ears. Blinking the sleep away, you turn over to see your baby girl sitting up between you and Changbin, her tiny hands patting her daddy’s cheek repeatedly in an attempt to wake him.

“Dada,” she says in her sleepy little voice, pressing her chubby fingers into his face. “Dada, up.”

You chuckle, gently brushing a hand through her soft hair. “I don’t think Daddy’s ready to wake up yet, sweetheart.”

Changbin, however, cracks one eye open, groaning dramatically. “Dada is very tired,” he mumbles, reaching out to blindly pull both you and your daughter into his arms. “Dada needs five more minutes…”

Your daughter, however, has other plans. She wiggles her way onto his chest, squealing as she bounces a little. “Noooo, up!”

Changbin finally gives in, opening both eyes and smiling lazily. “Aish, how can I say no to my little princess?” He scoops her up and peppers kisses all over her chubby cheeks, making her giggle uncontrollably.

You watch them with pure adoration, propping yourself up on one elbow. “She’s got you wrapped around her tiny little finger, you know that?”

Changbin grins at you, reaching out to pull you closer. “Of course. Just like her mama does.” He presses a soft kiss to your lips before leaning his forehead against yours.

The three of you stay tangled in each other’s warmth, your daughter now snuggled between you, sucking on her tiny fingers as she slowly drifts back to sleep. Changbin gently rubs her back, his voice a quiet whisper. “She’s perfect.”

Changbin’s hand moves from your daughter to yours, his fingers brushing lightly against your cheek before intertwining with yours. His grip is firm but gentle, his thumb rubbing soothing circles over the back of your hand.

“You know…” he begins quietly, his voice thick with emotion, “I don’t think I say it enough, but… thank you.”

You blink at him, tilting your head slightly. “For what?”

His fingers tighten around yours just a little as he looks at you with nothing but pure adoration. “For being the mother of my child. For giving me our little girl. For… everything.”

Your heart swells at his words, warmth spreading through your chest like a soft embrace. You squeeze his hand back, your own eyes growing a little misty. “You don’t have to thank me for that, Binnie.”

“I do,” he insists gently, bringing your intertwined hands up to his lips to press a lingering kiss against your knuckles. “You’re amazing. She’s lucky to have you as her mom. And I’m lucky to have you as my wife.”

Tears threaten to prick at your eyes, but before you can say anything, your daughter's small fingers reach for your joined hands, clumsily placing her own on top as if she wants to be included.

Changbin chuckles softly. “See? She agrees.”

You laugh, leaning in to press a soft kiss to his lips before placing another on your daughter’s forehead. “I love you both so much,” you whisper, voice full of emotion.

Changbin tugs you in closer, wrapping an arm around you both as he buries his face into your hair. “And we love you,” he murmurs. “So, so much.”

You smile, resting your head against his shoulder. “We’re pretty lucky, huh?”

He hums in agreement, wrapping his arms around both of you protectively. “More than lucky. I wouldn’t trade this for anything.”

The three of you stay like that—tangled together, hands intertwined, hearts beating as one. And in that moment, you know: This is happiness. This is home.

#stray kids #skz x reader #skz au #skz fake texts #changbin skz #changbin x reader #changbin fluff #seo changbin #seo changbin x reader #stray kids imagines #skz scenarios #changbin fanfic #changbin x you #changbin au #changbin imagines #dwaekki

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xoxo-lixie · 1 month ago

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Tough Guy ᝰ.ᐟ

Paring- Changbin x Reader

Summary- Y/N brags about Changbin on the phone, making him shy. He tries to act tough, snatches the phone, and silences her with a kiss—only for her to tease him even more.

Y/N lay sprawled out on the couch, phone pressed against her ear, a smug smile stretching across her lips. The apartment was peaceful except for the faint clatter coming from the kitchen—where her boyfriend, Changbin, was pretending not to listen.

She knew better.

“So, I’m just saying,” Y/N continued, kicking her legs up onto the armrest, “if there was an award for best boyfriend, Changbin would win. No competition. He’s just that perfect.”

From the kitchen, a utensil clattered onto the counter. Y/N smirked.

Her friend on the other end laughed. “Oh? And what makes him so perfect?”

“Oh, where do I even start?” Y/N drawled dramatically, making sure her voice carried. “First of all, have you seen him? Like, I get to wake up every day and see the most gorgeous man ever. It’s honestly unfair to everyone else.”

A muffled cough came from the kitchen. Changbin had his back turned, but she could see the tips of his ears glowing red.

She grinned. Time to turn it up a notch.

“And don’t even get me started on how strong he is. He picks me up like I weigh nothing.” Y/N sighed dreamily. “He could probably carry me with one arm while rapping flawlessly. Actually, scratch that—he has done that before.”

Changbin finally turned, narrowing his eyes at her. “Y/N.”

She waved him off, still talking into the phone. “Oh, and you should hear how deep his voice gets when he’s serious. Like, wow. It’s honestly illegal how attractive he is.”

Changbin groaned, dragging a hand down his face, but the pink on his cheeks was unmistakable. “Baby…” he muttered.

“Oh, oh! And you should see how soft he is when he thinks no one’s looking,” Y/N continued, biting back a laugh. “He acts all tough, but last night? He cuddled me so tight in his sleep and mumbled, ‘I love you’.”

Changbin’s head snapped up. “Y/N—”

She gasped dramatically. “Oh, no! He’s getting embarrassed!”

“I am not,” he huffed, crossing his arms. “I’m just—you’re lying.”

Y/N raised an eyebrow. “Oh? So you didn’t say you love me in your sleep?”

Changbin opened his mouth, then closed it. His jaw tensed as if he were searching for a counterargument. Finally, he grumbled, “…That’s not the point.”

Y/N beamed in victory. “See? He’s so cute.”

Changbin, unable to take any more of her teasing, strode toward the couch and plucked the phone straight from her hand.

“Hey!” Y/N protested.

Changbin held the phone up to his ear, his voice a mix of exasperation and amusement. “She has to go. She’s too busy embarrassing me.” Without another word, he hung up and tossed the phone onto the coffee table.

Y/N pouted. “Rude.”

Changbin sighed, running a hand through his hair. “You really like talking about me that much?”

She grinned, reaching up to poke his cheek. “I mean, you are my favorite topic.”

He groaned, but his lips twitched like he was fighting a smile. “You’re so annoying.”

“And you love it,” she teased, grabbing his hand and lacing their fingers together.

He exhaled slowly, his tough-guy act crumbling under her playful gaze. Then, without another word, he leaned down and captured her lips in a deep, lingering kiss.

Y/N blinked when he pulled away, slightly breathless. “W-Whoa.”

Changbin smirked, finally regaining the upper hand. “That should keep you quiet for a bit.”

She stared at him for a moment before breaking into a laugh. “Oh, now you wanna act all cool?”

“Always been cool,baby,” he said smugly, though his pink ears betrayed him.

Y/N rolled her eyes and pulled him back down for another kiss. “Yeah, yeah. Whatever helps you sleep at night, tough guy.”

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torialefay · 7 months ago

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"you've never had someone be this good to you before?"

perv!changbin x fem!reader

✨ synopsis: changbin couldn't help but to offer his services when he found out that the object of his obsessive thoughts had never been properly taken care of.

✨ word count: ~3.2k

✨ warnings: perv changbin, orgasm control, oral (fem receiving); minors DNI 🔞

✨ note: you can pop over to my masterlist & scroll toward the bottom to find the smut request info & prompts. i would love to receive some prompts that aren't strictly fem!reader (but ofc those are welcome too) <3

• you'd been friends for well over a year, yes. so how could you not have known that this entire time, changbin had been watching you?

• it had started as innocent, really. simply watching the way you walked and how your hips moved side to side with each step. he watched the way your shorts would ride up your thighs every time you sat down. he noticed the way your eyes got so big for him each time you raised your head to look up.

• and slowly, it started to drive him crazy.

• in his head, it was only natural- inevitable really. there was no harm in giving you a little bit of extra attention. nothing wrong with that.

• but before he knew it, he was going to lengths he'd never dreamed.

• friendly banter turned into more extreme measures, like him pulling you into his lap. "playfully" of course, and *not* because of the rush he got knowing that your pussy had just been resting so close to him... only thin fabric separating the two of you.

• although he would never admit it to anyone, he'd secretly taken photos of you. any time you were sitting in your chair, legs wrapped behind the chair legs, which made your ass stick out perfectly in his view. any time your top was low-cut enough to make out the lines between your breasts. any time you were innocently sucking up your drink, licking your lollipop, or licking your lips. he always had his camera at the ready, meticulous in making sure the flash had been turned off. he'd never blow his cover so carelessly.

• he'd "accidentally" drop things next to you just so he could bend down close to you and savor the sight as he came back up. your legs... they looked so soft. he wondered if a day would ever come that you would let him touch them... willingly.

• he'd even go as far as to say something spilled in the seat you were about to go to, so he could lay his jacket down for you to sit on and collect your scent for later.

• when he could finally be alone at the end of the day, he'd make sure he had all of his prized possessions out before he got to work on himself. the photos of you pulled up on his phone. his jacket held up to his face so he could take it in as he began to furiously pump his cock. and before he knew it, he was busting everywhere- his body overwhelmed, begging, and wholly giving in to the thought of you.

• but he didn't think that he'd ever be able to *actually* act on his urges... that is, until you'd messaged him one night that you needed help with something. moving some furniture or something like that- he didn't take the time to read much of the text past "hey, is there any chance you'd be able to come over-." that's all he needed to spring up and out the door.

• after taking care of what you needed, he'd hung around on the couch for a chat. he listened to all of your stories. he admired the amount of information that you entrusted to him. and for you, all of this felt like de-stressing in the most natural way.

• after talking vulnerably about past relationships (at this point, you weren't even aware how you'd gotten to this level of comfort), changbin had managed to squeeze out of you a more intimate conversation- one in which you told him you'd never actually been properly eaten out before.

• his brain couldn't comprehend it. someone as... perfect as you? with those few words, he lost it. all inhibition had left his body now that he'd gotten you to this point.

• "i could, ya know? if you want to of course," he said, his heart leaping inside his chest. he was high off of the adrenaline.

• "what?" you almost laughed in both embarrassment and disbelief. changbin was your friend, nothing more. why would he even joke about something like that?... well, unless he wasn't.

• "i said i could eat you out. show you it can feel good... if you want." his voice remain firm and steady.

• "where is this coming from?" you asked, your mind full of confusion.

• "nowhere, i-" he cleared his throat, now the wobbliness beginning to catch up with him. "nowhere. i just never would have thought that you hadn't, uhh.. had that before. i'm sorry if i made you feel weird," he mumbled in a rush, beginning to stand up.

• "no changbin, it's okay!" you held your hand out, motioning for him to stay. "i just... wasn't expecting that i guess? you've been such a good friend to me, i never thought..." your train of thought ran off. "i mean i'm just surprised is all. i don't want this to come between us. a spur-of-the-moment thing," you voiced nervously. you still weren't sure of the situation, so why were you saying this?

• "spur of the moment?" he chuckled, shaking his head with a smile. "you don't know how badly i've wanted you? you've had no clue this whole time?"

• "no..." your voice went shaky. "you never said anything." you looked down, not sure what to do.

• "what should i have said? that i've thought about fucking you every day for months on end? that i've spent my days doing everything i can to get closer to you... to want you so badly to the point that i cannot physically stand it? and to get anything possible from you because it turns me on? is that what i should have said?"

• you were taken aback. "get anything possible? what do you mean?"

• "nothing," he huffed defensively. you could tell that he was trying to calm himself down. you didn't think he meant to scare you. "just drop it. please. i shouldn't have said anything in the first place... but now here we are."

• "but..." you started, taking a moment to collect the words in your head. "but what if i do want it?" you looked up at him with nervous but hopeful eyes.

• changbin could feel his pulse begin to heighten. "say the word then, and i'll show you." he tried his best to contain the smile that so badly wanted to spread across his face.

• turns out, you didn't need to say anything. you put on a shy grin as you nodded your head, signaling your readiness. within a second, changbin was springing up, eager to finally turn his fantasies into reality.

• "okay, we can go slow if you want?" he half-smirked, looking down at you now. he'd never seen a more perfect sight.

• "yeah, i think that'd be good," you said, still a bit shy. you weren't quite sure where to go from here, so you gladly let him take the lead.

• "turn this way for me," he instructed, holding his hand out for you to grab onto. you took it, and he pulled slightly towards himself, helping you to rotate so that your body was now turned toward the front of the couch.

• changbin followed up with a satisfied smile at how well you were listening to him. just like his fantasies.

• "can i?" he asked, running his hand down gently to rest at the waist band of your shorts.

• you nodded, nibbling at your lips in anticipation.

• gently, changbin lowered himself to begin removing your shorts. slowly but with smooth hands, he removed your legs, one by one. he was careful with watching you- he'd studied your face far too well to miss out on any changing expressions he could coax out.

• throwing your shorts to the side, he sank to his knees so that he was now almost eye level with your pussy. suddenly, you felt exposed. intimidated. suddenly not quite sure how you'd gotten here.

• you closed your thighs together tightly, the red embarrassment evident on your face.

• "here, don't be shy," changbin said, sensing your hesitancy. he softly placed each hand on the inside of either thigh, applying slight pressure to move them apart. although you were fighting through the nerves, his gentleness washed over you with a much needed calming sensation.

• you let out a deep breath, not sure how long you'd been holding it in. you wiggled yourself a bit, trying to adjust to the newness of the situation as you settled into your position.

• changbin smiled up at you in return, his eyes endearing yet full of excitement. a sense of fulfillment had his brain clouded over.

• he wasted no time in running one hand up until it found the heat of your clothed core. you could tell that his hand was slightly shaking in his bout of disbelief, no matter how hard he was trying to cover it up.

• you shuddered a bit at the feeling of his thumb lightly grazing you, making momentary contact with your clit. it sent a bolt down your spine from a feeling that you'd been missing for far too long.

• changbin started slowly, rubbing up and down, then left and right, then in small, dredgingly slow circles trying to figure out what you liked.

• and if you were being honest, at this point, even you didn't know what you liked. no one had ever touched you like this before- so softly, so tenderly. every movement felt like it was the best sensation you'd ever experienced.

• changbin tried unsuccessfully to jerk his smile down while looking at the sight of you beginning to grind your hips down onto his fingers. you were silently begging him for even more contact. seeing you like this... it was better than he could have ever imagined.

• "let's take these off?" changbin whispered, pulling slightly at the hem of your underwear.

• you nodded, your mind coming out of its haze. you tilted your head just enough to watch as changbin slid them down with ease. almost as if he'd trained to do this all so perfectly... for you.

• the look on his face when he finally came in contact with your core, now entirely unclothed, was something you would never forget. his jaw dropped a bit, as if he couldn't believe what was in front of him. but following, barely a moment after, was a face full of determination. determination for what?... well you hoped you knew the answer.

• changbin again decided to rest his hands on the insides of your thighs so that he could spread you open as wide as possible. he wanted to see all of you. have access to every last inch. he was going to do this right.

• "you have to tell me what feels good, okay?" he cooed, looking up from in between your legs.

• you gave a bashful nod in response, signaling that you understood.

• carefully, changbin brought his fingers back to you, letting you get used to the feeling of his contact without moving. once he could tell that your tension was gone, he slowly started to rub up and down, one inch at a time. the fact that you were so wet for him almost made a gasp fall from his mouth. but it didn't. he wouldn't let it. he was going to have to fight the urge for now, not wanting you to feel overwhelmed by him so quickly. he wanted to savor every second he'd get with you.

• almost painfully slow, he continued to let his fingers slide along, getting you more and more worked up with each movement.

• it wasn't until he was completely sure that you were ready when he moved to land over your clit, which had been throbbing by this point. he remained calm, drawing gentle and slow circles around you to gage your reaction. as you strain out an inhaled breath, he knew he was right where he needed to be.

• he brought his face down to your core, mentally preparing to hold himself back. he didn't know how you'd respond, but he knew this was his only chance. he placed a few soft kisses on your inner thigh, acclimating you to his mouth. the kisses grew lighter and lower as he picked your leg up, kissing down to your knees as he went. he settled with resting your leg over his shoulder, granting him better access to you.

• just like the first time, he positioned his face at the opposite thigh, taking his time with soft pecks and temptingly letting his teeth graze your skin. he calmly lifted your leg to position it in parallel to the other, effectively caging himself in.

• you took a deep breath as you felt his tongue on your core, licking its way up. he didn't take much time before finding your clit and proceeding to roll his tongue up and down, trying to gage your reaction.

• as you gradually let yourself relax, you leaned into the feeling that he was providing you. you focused solely on his movements and how each of them made you tingle in a different way.

• you almost lost your breath entirely as he began sucking in, making the wildest noises and moaning on the spot once he heard you let out a tiny whine yourself. the tingles that were being sent into your thighs was proof enough that you'd never experienced something that felt like... well, this before.

• your heart skipped a beat each time he nipped at you in your most sensitive spot. slowly, you were burning for him. you wanted to scream out- to beg to him to do it again. over and over. but at the same time, you didn't know how you'd be able to bear it.

• but changbin knew you well. a small smirk crept across his face as he realized what he'd done to you. it only made him want to work harder to please you. to make you understand exactly what he's been working for for all of these months.

• "mmm, feels good?" he hummed into you, sending shock waves that only added to the feeling.

• "ye- yes," you strained out, trying to hold back.

• "you like it when i eat you out, huh?" he pulled off just long enough to give you a short smirk. something about his tone almost caused you to convulse on the spot. you were fighting back the urge to throw your knees together entirely.

• "yes," you whined now, grinding down onto his tongue as you went. you wanted so badly to let go.

• "mmm, are you gonna cum for me?" his voice rang out, darker now.

• you reflexively bucked your hips. this was exactly what you needed to spiral. you felt your toes begin to tingle, preparing to lose yourself.

• "yes, -fuck!" you arched a bit, feeling a particularly sharp jolt. "fuck, i'm gonna cum, i'm gonna cum-"

• "no you're not," he stated, fixated on your pussy with his lips still attached. "need you to keep going. cum when i tell you to."

• your eyes shot open. no? what did he mean no? you knew you weren't going to be able to hold it back. this was a side of changbin you'd never seen before.

• as the sensation built, a tear started to build up in the corner of your eye. this was too good. too too good. your legs were beginning to shake already. this was getting to be too much.

• as changbin's eyes came up to connect with yours, you were sure you were gone. you quickly threw one hand down to his hair, pushing his face further into you, while the other hand gripped tightly to the blanket next to you. you watched the tiny smirk in his gaze as you threw yourself down onto him.

• "please, please," you moaned, louder than you'd intended. "please, i'm gonna cum. i have- have to."

• "mmm? you've never had someone be this good to you before?" was all that he responded with, sending the vibrations along with it.

• "please," you cried. "please, i-- OH FUCK," you yelled one last time.

• the joints in your hand began to ache, giving in to the pressure put on it from bunching into the cushions around you.

• this was it. whatever he said, you weren't going to be able to hold it off any more. this was all you could take.

• noticing your shift, changbin smiled. "you can cum now, princess." his tongue returned once more to your clit, holding his lips taut to you. "cum on me right now," he ordered.

• finally, you were able to relish in the quick bolts that were shooting up from the bottoms of your feet and into your core.

• you couldn't stop yourself from yelling out, sending changbin into doing the same

• moans sang out in choirs, each hitting its note precisely as instructed. your hips moved accordingly, trying to ride out your full high, but trembling in the process.

• this was bliss. pure and utter euphoria like you'd never experienced before. in a jolt of a moment, your neck shivered, feeling a tingle working it's way up your spine. and before you knew it, your brain caught up to the feeling, blanking out and turning to static.

• your body reflexively arched, losing control of itself entirely. it was now a slave to the feeling that changbin was giving you. your body reacted to him like he was the only man in the world. and maybe now, to you, he was.

• fighting to finally throw yourself off of him, you wanted to cry. you never knew it could feel this good- so all consuming, so deep. to feel totally and completely taken care of.

• it was then, in your shaking, quivering state that you realized that a few tears had actually been spilled out. you took deep breaths, wiping your eyes as quickly as you could.

• as your mind slowly started to return, you couldn't believe what you'd just experienced. your body was spent. your brain was spent. you didn't know what you could possibly say or do at this point. it's as if you weren't even in the world.

• changbin snaked himself up slowly, wrapping his arms around yours in an attempt to sooth you. "was it okay?" he asked, the tiniest bit of pride in his voice.

• you couldn't help but to laugh in response. "yeah," you blinked as you sniffled. "yeah, i think it was okay."

---------------------

✨ if you enjoyed, please consider liking, commenting, and/or re-blogging <3

✨ i promise y'all, one day i will figure out which formatting i like the best & then i will stick to it. i have problems 😭

#stray kids #stray kids smut #changbin smut #skz changbin #changbin skz #skz smut #changbin x reader #changbin x you #changbin imagines #seo changbin #changbin #changbin x female reader

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shoverse · 1 year ago

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| • skz hyung line — caught simping for them • |

📁 pairing; bangchan x gn! reader, lee minho x gn! reader, seo changbin x gn! reader, hwang hyunjin x gn! reader

📁 cw; swearing, nsfw joke, furry joke

📁 a/n; if this doesn't turn up in tags i'll cry ☹️ ENJOY PLS ILY

#01 — bangchan • 방찬 !

#02 — lee minho • 이민호 !

#03 — seo changbin • 서창빈 !

#04 — hwang hyunjin • 황헌진 !

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channiesfreak · 2 months ago

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Drunk Texts with bf!Changbin

warnings: fluffy!, reader is drunk. consume alcohol safely ig. maybe a little suggestive like one time.

bf!changbin, implied idol!changbin

nothing much to say about this. I made it while wine drunk and I saw this tiktok. I realized I have the power to make my dreams my reality

idk how I feel about text format but it was kinda fun to make? do u guys likey?

#stray kids x reader #stray kids x you #stray kids x y/n #changbin x reader #changbin x you #changbin x y/n #stray kids texts #stray kids fake texts #changbin texts #changbin fake texts #stray kids imagines #stray kids scenarios #changbin imagines #changbin scenarios #stray kids fluff #changbin fluff

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4linos · 20 days ago

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he calls you a gold digger.

ot8 x fem!reader

warnings: angst, asshole skz lol, no happy endings.

wc: 5961

[he calls you a gold digger part 2]

[a/n: this is non idol!skz]

bang chan

The scent of garlic and onions filled the kitchen as you stood by the stove, stirring a pot of simmering sauce. It had been a long day, but the simple act of making dinner for Chan was something that always made you feel grounded. It was a quiet comfort, a reminder that no matter how chaotic the world outside was, the two of you had a place to return to.

You heard the front door open. The usual sound of keys dropping onto the counter didn’t come. No soft greeting, no tired but affectionate “I’m home.” Just silence.

Something was wrong.

You turned, wiping your hands on a dish towel as you peeked into the living room. Chan stood there, shoulders stiff, his face blank. Too blank. His bags were still slung over his shoulders, like he hadn’t even thought to set them down.

“Hey.” Your voice was careful, soft. “Everything okay?”

For a second, he didn’t answer. His gaze was fixed on you, dark and unreadable. He looked different worn out, heavy with something you couldn’t quite name. And then, finally, he spoke.

“I lost everything.”

Three words. Heavy. Absolute.

Your hands stilled, the dish towel falling forgotten onto the counter. “What?”

“My business.” His voice was void of any emotion, like he had already accepted the words as truth, but that didn’t make them hurt any less. “My money. Everything I’ve built.” His throat bobbed as he swallowed. “Gone.”

The weight of his confession hit you like a wave, but your first instinct wasn’t panic or concern for yourself, it was him. You could only imagine the pressure he had been under, the stress, the exhaustion. He had worked so hard, spent so many sleepless nights building everything from the ground up, and now it had been ripped away.

“Chan…” You took a cautious step forward, instinctively reaching for him, wanting to hold him, to tell him that no matter what happened, you were here.

But then he did something that made your stomach twist.

He stepped back.

It was slight just enough to put distance between you, but you felt it like a physical blow.

“Still pretending, huh?”

The words stung, sharp and unexpected.

You blinked, thrown off by his sudden hostility. “What?”

Chan let out a hollow laugh, the kind that didn’t hold an ounce of warmth. “Don’t act so surprised,” he muttered, his jaw clenched. His eyes bore into yours, but there was something different in them, something you had never seen directed at you before. Doubt.

Your heart pounded. “Chan, what are you talking about?”

“You don’t have to pretend anymore,” he said, voice sharper now. “The money’s gone. There’s nothing left. So let’s see how long you actually stick around.”

The accusation hit like a knife to the gut.

You took a step back now, shaking your head, trying to understand where this was coming from. “You think I’m here for your money?”

He didn’t answer right away. That was the worst part.

He just looked at you.

Like he was waiting for you to crack. Like he expected you to drop the act, to run, to do exactly what people had told him you would do.

And that’s when you realized it.

Someone had put this idea in his head.

You had seen it before, the way people whispered in his ear, how he was constantly surrounded by those who only wanted a piece of him. You knew how hard it was for him to trust, how much he had been burned in the past. But you? After everything?

He believed them.

The realization made your throat tighten.

“Is that really what you think of me?” Your voice was barely above a whisper.

Chan swallowed, his expression unreadable. But the silence was enough of an answer.

A bitter laugh bubbled up in your chest, but it wasn’t out of amusement. It was disbelief. It was pain. “So what?” you asked, crossing your arms tightly over yourself, like it could somehow shield you from the ache in your chest. “Did someone tell you that? That I was just here for your money?”

He didn’t deny it.

Of course.

You let out a sharp exhale, pressing your fingers to your temple as frustration mixed with the hurt. “I can’t believe this,” you muttered. “I’ve been with you through everything. I’ve been by your side when you were exhausted, when you were struggling, when you thought you weren’t enough.” Your voice wavered, but you didn’t care. “And now, now when you actually need me, you push me away? Because of this?”

He clenched his fists at his sides, his jaw tightening. “I lost everything, and I just needed to know if—”

“If I was using you?” You finished for him, your voice sharp with disbelief. “Really, Chan?”

He looked away for a second, as if the weight of his own words was finally sinking in. But the damage was already done.

You had been ready to fight for him, to stand by him through this storm, to carry him if you had to. But now, for the first time, you weren’t sure if he would have done the same for you.

You weren’t upset because he lost his money.

You were upset because he thought so little of you.

You were upset because, after everything, he still believed you were like them.

You swallowed the lump in your throat, trying to keep your voice steady. “I loved you when you had everything,” you said quietly. “I love you now, when you have nothing. And I would’ve stayed.” Your eyes met his, and you saw something flicker in them guilt, regret, something.

But it was too late.

“You’re the one pushing me away.”

The silence was deafening.

You turned off the stove, the half-finished meal now completely forgotten. “Let me know when you’re ready to stop treating me like a stranger.”

And with that, you walked past him, the weight of everything settling in your chest like lead. You didn’t know where you were going, maybe to the bedroom, maybe just away but you couldn’t stand there and let him tear you down like this.

Behind you, Chan didn’t move.

Didn’t call out.

Didn’t try to stop you.

And somehow, that hurt even more than the words.

lee know

For months, something had felt off. The warmth that once filled your relationship had been replaced with silence, with cold indifference. At first, you convinced yourself that Minho was just busy that work had been stressful, he was tired, maybe he just needed space. But space turned into distance, and distance turned into something that felt an awful lot like neglect.

You tried to ignore it. You tried to be understanding. You made excuses for him when he canceled plans last minute, told yourself he didn’t mean to ignore your messages for hours, that he wasn’t intentionally avoiding spending time with you. But the truth had been staring you in the face for a while now, and no amount of denial could change the way his eyes no longer lit up when he looked at you.

So tonight, as you sit across from him in your shared apartment, the weight of it all finally crushes you. The silence between you is suffocating, the tension thick enough to cut through. You can’t take it anymore.

“Minho,” you say, your voice quiet but firm. He barely looks up from his phone.

You hesitate for a moment, fear creeping in, but you force yourself to continue. “Do you even love me anymore?”

That gets his attention. He exhales sharply, setting his phone down, but the look on his face isn’t one of surprise. If anything, he looks… exhausted. As if he’s been waiting for you to ask.

His answer is immediate, and it’s colder than you ever could have imagined.

“Would it matter?” He leans back, arms crossed, his expression unreadable. “You love my bank account more.”

For a second, you forget how to breathe.

It’s a joke. It has to be a joke. That’s the only way your brain can process the sheer cruelty of his words. But the way he stares at you flat, emotionless, indifferent tells you he means it.

You feel the sting behind your eyes, the way your chest tightens painfully. “Is that… really what you think of me?” Your voice is barely above a whisper, as if saying it any louder will make it hurt more.

Minho lets out a scoff, shaking his head. “I don’t know. Should I think anything else?” He tilts his head slightly, his gaze piercing. “You’ve never had a problem enjoying the things my money gets you. The expensive dinners, the vacations, the gifts.”

You swallow hard. “You bought those things for me, Minho. I never asked for them.”

“And yet, you never turned them down.”

His words feel like a slap, and suddenly, you see everything in a different light. He doesn’t just think you love his money. He thinks that’s the only reason you stayed. All this time, while you were worrying about losing him, blaming yourself, wondering if you weren’t enough. He was looking at you like you were nothing more than someone using him.

You shake your head, blinking away the tears threatening to fall. “That’s really how little you think of me, huh?” Your voice wavers, but you refuse to break in front of him.

Minho doesn’t respond. He doesn’t try to take it back, doesn’t try to explain. He just watches you, unbothered, like your pain means nothing.

And maybe it never did.

You inhale shakily, your hands trembling as you push yourself up from the couch. “If that’s how you see me, then I guess there’s nothing left to say.”

You wait, just for a second. You wait to see if he’ll stop you, if he’ll call your name, if there’s even a fraction of the man you fell in love with left in him.

But he stays silent.

So you turn and walk away, knowing this time, you won’t look back.

changbin

The tension had been building for weeks. No, months.

At first, it had been easy to ignore. The little jabs, the passive-aggressive sighs, the way conversations that used to flow effortlessly now felt strained, every word weighed down with something unsaid.

You and Changbin used to laugh over stupid things, steal kisses in the kitchen, curl up on the couch after long days without a single worry about the outside world. Now, it felt like the walls of your shared apartment were closing in, suffocating you both. Every conversation turned into a fight. Every fight felt like another crack in something you weren’t sure could be fixed.

And tonight was no different.

It had started with something ridiculous, him complaining that you left the lights on when you left for work. It was such a small thing, the kind of problem that would’ve been solved with a simple my bad, won’t happen again in the past. But not anymore.

Now, everything was a reason to snap.

“Oh, so I’m the problem?” you scoffed, tossing your bag onto the counter. “I left the lights on, and that’s enough to start another fight? Do you even hear yourself?”

“You don’t listen to me,” Changbin shot back, arms crossed, jaw tight. “I’ve told you a million times. But you don’t care, do you?”

Your stomach twisted. It wasn’t about the damn lights. It never was.

“Don’t make this about me not caring,” you said, voice sharp. “You pick a fight over everything lately. I can’t even breathe without you finding something to be mad about.”

His eyes darkened, frustration rolling off him in waves. “Maybe if you didn’t act like I was a burden, I wouldn’t feel this way.”

You froze, something in your chest twisting painfully. “What?”

“You think I don’t notice?” He let out a bitter laugh, running a hand through his hair. “The way you look at me like I’m just some obstacle in your life? Like I’m just here?”

Your nails dug into your palms. “That’s not fair.”

“Isn’t it?” He stepped closer, eyes locked onto yours. “Because from where I’m standing, it looks like you don’t even want to be here.”

That wasn’t true. That wasn’t true. But the words were out, and they stung.

“You don’t get to say that,” you said, voice shaking despite your best efforts. “You don’t get to act like I don’t try, like I don’t do everything I can to keep this together.”

Changbin scoffed. “Keep this together? You barely contribute. Do you even realize how much of this life I built for us? You wouldn’t last a day without my money.”

Silence.

The words hung in the air, suffocating, heavy, irreversible.

Your heart stopped, then restarted, hammering against your ribs.

You opened your mouth, but no words came out. It was like all the air had been sucked from the room.

Changbin’s breathing was heavy, his face still set in anger, but something flickered in his eyes, like he was realizing, too late, what he had just said.

But it didn’t matter anymore.

Because the damage was done.

Numbly, you turned away, walking toward the door without another word. You grabbed your coat off the hook, pulling it on with slow, deliberate movements. Your fingers trembled slightly as you buttoned it, but you refused to let him see.

The air was thick with silence as you reached for the handle.

Then, just as you pushed the door open, you turned back to him.

Your voice was quiet, but sharp, cutting through the air like a blade.

“Watch me.”

And then you left.

The door clicked shut behind you, and for the first time in a long time, the apartment was silent.

Changbin didn’t move. His fists were still clenched, his heart still racing, his mind still replaying the last five minutes like a car crash happening in slow motion.

But as the weight of what he had just done finally sank in, the anger drained from his face, replaced by something colder.

Regret.

hyunjin

The air is thick with warmth and laughter, the kind that fills the spaces between crystal glasses and designer dresses, that hums beneath the polished marble floors of Hyunjin’s penthouse. Everything is perfect the lighting, the music, the effortless way his friends drape themselves across velvet couches, expensive rings catching the light as they swirl their drinks.

You’ve always felt like an outsider here.

No one says it to your face, of course. They’re too well-mannered for that. Too used to playing pretend. But you’ve seen the looks, the subtle smirks, the quick glances exchanged when you walk into the room. You’ve heard the whispers that slip through conversations when they think you’re not paying attention.

“She’s cute, but she’s not exactly his type, is she?"

"God, she’s so lucky. Imagine dating Hyunjin."

“No, he’s the lucky one." A laugh. "I mean, she gets to live like this."

You tell yourself their words don’t matter. That Hyunjin is different. That he sees you, not just the world you’ve stepped into by being with him.

So you smile. You play along. You pretend that their quiet judgment doesn’t cling to you like the scent of expensive perfume.

But then, tonight happens.

It’s a simple thing, really. A moment so brief you could have missed it.

You had left the main room to grab another bottle of wine from the kitchen, your heels clicking softly against the floor as the sounds of the party faded behind you. The conversation drifts from the other side of the hallway low voices, laughter, the easy cadence of people who have never had to question their place in the world.

And then, your name.

You hesitate. You shouldn’t stop to listen. But something in their tone makes your feet still, fingers tightening around the bottle in your hand.

“I mean, come on, man, it’s obvious, right?" A scoff. “She’s nice and all, but let’s be real, she’s here because of you. Or, more like, what you have."

Someone chuckles, the sound like ice in your veins.

“She just loves the lifestyle."

You don’t even realize you’re holding your breath.

Because then, clear as anything, his voice.

"Yeah."

It’s not just the word. It’s how he says it.

No hesitation. No disbelief. No anger, no defense, not even a hint of irritation at the way they reduce you to nothing more than a girl who got lucky. Just agreement. Casual, effortless agreement.

Like he’s always known. Like he’s never questioned it.

Like he believes it, too.

The room tilts slightly. Your heartbeat pounds in your ears, the party outside feeling miles away.

You tell yourself you misheard. That there’s some other explanation. But then you risk a glance around the corner, just for confirmation, just to see..

And there he is.

Hyunjin, leaning back against the couch, his long legs stretched out in front of him, the corner of his mouth curled into something close to amusement. There’s no discomfort in his expression, no regret. Just ease. Just familiarity. Like this is normal. Like this is nothing.

You feel something crack inside you.

It’s not loud. It’s not even dramatic. It’s just… quiet. A shift, a realization, a slow-burning pain that settles beneath your ribs.

Because the worst part isn’t that his friends think it.

It’s that he does, too.

It’s that maybe he always has.

You stand there, frozen, as something heavy and unfamiliar washes over you. Anger. Humiliation. Betrayal. All tangled together, knotting tightly in your throat.

And then someone calls your name.

Your head snaps up. The moment shatters. You’re back in the party, back in his world, back in the role you’ve been playing all along.

You inhale sharply. You smooth out your expression. You press down the ache, push the betrayal into some distant part of your mind, and step forward with a smile.

You don’t confront him.

Not tonight.

Tonight, you laugh when he touches your waist. You let him kiss your temple as if nothing has changed. You play the perfect host, refill drinks, weave through conversations with the same practiced ease as always.

You let him think everything is fine.

Because if he truly believes you’re just here for the lifestyle,

Then you’ll make damn sure he regrets it when you leave.

HAN

The moment is perfect at least, it should be.

The warm glow of fairy lights bathes the room in gold, casting soft shadows across the gathered faces of your friends and family. Laughter and conversation had filled the air just moments before, but now, silence settles over them like a held breath, heavy with anticipation. Your heart pounds against your ribs, your hands trembling at your sides as Jisung lowers himself onto one knee.

You stare down at him, wide-eyed, as the world around you blurs. The only thing you can focus on is him his dark, nervous eyes looking up at you, the way his adam’s apple bobs as he swallows, the small velvet box he clutches between his fingers.

Your hands fly to your mouth, a choked breath catching in your throat. This is it. The moment you’d imagined since you were young, tracing wedding dresses in magazines and twirling around in your mother’s oversized jewelry, dreaming of the day someone would love you enough to ask you to spend forever with them.

And that someone is Jisung. Your Jisung.

The room waits, charged with electricity. His hands tremble slightly as he opens the box, revealing the most breathtaking ring you’ve ever seen simple, elegant, perfect. Just like you’d always imagined.

And then he speaks.

“Guess I finally paid enough to keep you."

Your heart stops.

At first, you think you’ve misheard. That the nerves crackling in your veins have distorted his words, twisting them into something they weren’t. But no. His voice, quiet yet sharp, laced with something you can’t quite place resentment? Bitterness? echoes in your ears.

A chill spreads through your chest, replacing the warmth that had been building there.

What…?

Your breath catches, fingers curling at your sides. The room hasn’t noticed your family, your friends, they’re all too busy gasping, whispering, snapping photos. They see only the proposal, the grand romantic gesture. They don’t see the way your entire world has just tilted, how something inside you has cracked down the middle.

Jisung slides the ring onto your finger, and it’s beautiful, just as you’d always dreamed. But suddenly, it feels heavy.

Does he… does he really think that? That this moment, this life together is just something you wanted, something you chased, rather than something that grew between you both, something you built with love and trust?

Your throat tightens. The cheers swell around you as Jisung rises to his feet, still holding your hand. He smiles for the cameras, for the crowd, for everyone watching. And you are supposed to smile back. You’re supposed to throw your arms around him, say yes, let tears of joy spill down your cheeks as he kisses you breathless.

But how can you? How can you pretend that everything is perfect when the man you love, the man you thought loved you just as deeply, just implied that this was all some kind of goal? Some kind of prize?

Your lips part, but your voice is trapped somewhere in your chest, tangled in the emotions clawing their way to the surface. You know everyone is waiting for your response, but for the first time in your life, you have no idea what to say.

Jisung squeezes your hand gently, as if urging you to say something, anything. The weight of expectation is suffocating.

You force yourself to breathe, to push through the tightness in your throat. And then, barely above a whisper, you murmur,

“Is that really what you think of me?"

His smile falters. It’s just for a second so quick you almost miss it, but you see it. The hesitation. The slight flicker of emotion behind his eyes, something conflicted, something he doesn’t want you to see.

Your stomach twists.

"Jisung," you whisper, voice unsteady but firm. "Do you really think… that’s all this is to me?"

He doesn’t answer right away. And that silence, that pause, is louder than any response he could have given.

Your breath shudders out of you, your pulse pounding in your ears. Say something, you want to beg. Tell me I’m wrong. Tell me you don’t actually think that.

But he doesn’t. Instead, his grip on your hand tightens ever so slightly, his jaw tensing, his eyes darting away just for a moment, but long enough for you to know.

Your vision blurs at the edges. The cheers around you start to sound distant, like they belong to another world. One where this moment is still perfect. One where Jisung never said those words.

felix

You always knew Mia hated you.

From the moment you and Felix got together, she made it clear maybe not in words, but in the way she looked at you, the way she spoke about you when she thought no one was listening. She never missed an opportunity to make you feel like an outsider, like you didn’t belong in his world.

And the worst part? Felix never saw it.

“She doesn’t hate you,” he’d say whenever you tried to bring it up. “She’s just blunt. She’s always been like that.”

“She likes you, I swear. You’re just overthinking it.”

“You always do this, thinking people are against you when they’re not.”

Every single time, he brushed it off, making you feel like you were the problem. Like you were paranoid. Insecure. But you knew the truth. You saw the way Mia looked at him like he hung the stars in the sky. You heard the way her voice softened when she spoke to him, how her entire demeanor shifted when he was around.

She wanted him.

And she hated you for being the one he chose.

You tried to push it aside, for Felix’s sake. You didn’t want to be the girlfriend who made him pick sides, didn’t want to be the person he saw as controlling or jealous. But that nagging feeling in your chest never left.

And one night, everything came crashing down.

Felix had gone out with some friends, Mia included. It wasn’t unusual he had a close-knit group, and you never wanted to be the kind of girlfriend who kept him from them. So you stayed home, trying not to think about the way Mia would be sitting too close, laughing too hard at his jokes, looking at him like he was hers.

You weren’t expecting anything to be different when he got home.

But the second he walked through the door, you knew something was wrong.

He wouldn’t look at you. His jaw was tight, his movements stiff as he set his keys down on the counter with more force than necessary. The air around him felt heavier, charged with something dangerous.

“Felix?” You took a cautious step forward. “What’s wrong?”

He let out a hollow laugh, shaking his head as he finally looked at you. But there was no warmth in his eyes. No love. Just something cold. Something distant.

“So it was all a lie.”

Your heart stopped. “What?”

He scoffed, running a hand through his hair. “Mia told me everything. She said you admitted to it.”

Your stomach twisted painfully. “Admitted to what?”

His expression hardened. “Using me.”

The words barely registered at first. They felt foreign, impossible, like something ripped out of a nightmare.

“She said you told her everything,” he continued, voice tight with anger. “That you only stayed with me because of my money. That it was never about me.”

A sharp breath left your lungs. Your entire body went cold.

“Felix,” you whispered, shaking your head, “that’s not true.”

“Is it not?” His laugh was bitter, broken. “Because you sure seemed comfortable spending my money. Letting me take care of everything. And Mia… she said you told her you never really loved me.” His voice cracked on the last part, but he quickly masked it with anger. “That it was all just convenient.”

Tears welled in your eyes. This wasn’t real. This couldn’t be real.

“Mia is lying.” You took a step toward him, but he moved back. That single action shattered something inside you.

Felix had never pulled away from you before.

“Why would she lie?” he challenged.

You let out a broken laugh, disbelieving. “Felix, she hates me. You know that. You’ve always known that.”

“She doesn’t hate you.” His voice was sharp, like he was trying to convince himself as much as you.

“She does.” Your voice trembled. “She hates me because she wants you.”

Silence.

A flicker of something crossed his face hesitation, doubt but it was gone as quickly as it came.

“I can’t do this,” he muttered, shaking his head. “I can’t sit here and question everything, wonder if any of it was ever real.”

Your breath hitched. “Felix, please—”

He looked at you then, really looked at you, and for the first time, you realized you had already lost.

Because he didn’t believe you.

And nothing you said would change that.

Tears blurred your vision. Your chest ached, your heart cracking under the weight of the realization that this wasn’t just a fight. This wasn’t something you could fix.

This was the end.

Felix exhaled, running a hand down his face. “I think you should go.”

A sob threatened to escape, but you swallowed it down. Your hands trembled at your sides.

You wanted to scream, to shake him and make him see, but what was the point?

He had already decided.

So, with a broken heart and unsteady steps, you walked away.

seungmin

The room feels colder than it should. Maybe it’s the way Seungmin stands across from you, arms crossed, his jaw tight with frustration. Maybe it’s the way the air between you is thick with words left unsaid, with misunderstandings piling up faster than either of you can fix them. Or maybe it’s just the exhaustion settling into your bones, the kind that doesn’t come from lack of sleep but from trying, constantly trying, only to feel like you’re getting nowhere.

You don’t even know how the argument started this time. But somehow, it always came back to this. Money.

“You act like I’m just throwing it in your face,” Seungmin says, his voice sharp but controlled, as if he’s trying to keep himself from losing his temper. “I’m trying to take care of you. Why is that such a bad thing?”

Your hands clench at your sides. You’ve explained this before. So many times before. “Taking care of me doesn’t mean replacing everything with money, Seungmin. I don’t need gifts. I don’t need a damn shopping spree every time we have an argument.”

His expression doesn’t change, but there’s something behind his eyes something unreadable, something distant. “That’s just how I show I care.”

“No, that’s just how you avoid dealing with things,” you shoot back before you can stop yourself. The words hang in the air, heavier than either of you expected.

Seungmin’s lips press into a thin line. He takes a slow breath, tilting his head slightly, like he’s thinking, calculating his next move. And then, without another word, he reaches into his pocket and pulls out his black card. The limitless one. The one he’s used to fix things before.

He throws it onto the table between you. The sound is small, barely more than a soft tap against the wood, but it echoes in your chest like a gunshot.

“Take what you want and go.”

Your breath catches.

Not because you’re surprised, he’s done this before. But because this time, it doesn’t just feel like a way to end the argument. This time, it feels like he’s pushing you out completely.

Your heart aches, but you’re too tired to let it break. Not again.

You stare at the card. It feels like an insult, like a test, like a final confirmation of something you never wanted to believe: that no matter how much you love him, no matter how much you’ve fought for him, he still doesn’t see you. Not really.

Slowly, you lift your gaze back to his. He looks indifferent bored, even. But you know him better than that. You see the way his fingers twitch at his sides, the way his throat bobs when he swallows.

Still, he says nothing.

And that’s when you realize, you’re done.

Done proving yourself. Done trying to make him understand something he refuses to see. Done fighting for something that shouldn’t need to be fought for in the first place.

You take a deep breath, forcing the lump in your throat to disappear. When you speak, your voice is calm. Steady. Final.

“Keep your money,” you say. “I was never here for that.”

For a second, just a second something flickers across his face. But it’s gone before you can name it. And he doesn’t say anything. He doesn’t stop you.

So you turn. And you leave.

Your steps are slow, deliberate, as if you’re waiting for him to call out, to take it back. To say something.

But he doesn’t.

And when you finally walk out the door, Seungmin is left standing alone, staring at the black card on the table, the proof of everything he just lost.

I.N

The restaurant was buzzing with life. Soft music playing over the speakers, the low hum of conversation, the occasional clatter of silverware against plates. The warmth of dim lights cast a golden glow over the long dinner table where Jeongin, his friends, and their girlfriends sat, chatting and laughing.

You sat beside Jeongin, as you always did, trying to find comfort in the presence of the girls, the only ones who ever made you feel like you belonged. They were kind. They never hesitated to speak up when Jeongin’s friends made their usual offhand comments about you.

And they always did.

It started small, as it always did. A jab here, a snide remark there.

“She looks miserable.��

“Is she even listening?”

“Does she ever talk, or do you just keep her around for the company?”

It wasn’t new. They had never liked you, and they never tried to hide it. You weren’t sure why, and after months of trying to figure it out, you had stopped searching for a reason. Maybe they thought you weren’t good enough for him. Maybe they just didn’t like how different you were from the girls they surrounded themselves with.

Maybe they just enjoyed having someone to tear down.

You tried to ignore it, as you always did. You focused on your food, on the warm, reassuring presence of the girls beside you, who were already rolling their eyes and preparing to snap back at them.

But the worst part the part that always hurt more than their words was Jeongin’s silence.

He never said anything. Never told them to stop. Never made them see how much it hurt you.

At first, you convinced yourself that he just wasn’t good at confrontation. That maybe he didn’t notice how deeply their words cut. Maybe he thought ignoring them was the best way to make them stop.

But deep down, you knew that wasn’t true.

Because no matter how many times you told him, no matter how many times he saw the way you shut down, the way your hands clenched under the table, the way your voice grew quieter with every insult, he never did anything.

And then, tonight, they took it a step further.

“How much do you think she’d take if you broke up with her?”

The words were casual, spoken with a grin, like it was just another joke. But they weren’t laughing at you this time.

They were laughing about you.

And then Jeongin laughed too.

The sound hit you like a punch to the stomach.

Not a hesitant chuckle. Not an awkward attempt to brush it off.

A real laugh. Like it was funny. Like it didn’t mean anything. Like you didn’t mean anything.

The girls beside you stiffened. One of them sucked in a sharp breath, her hand reaching out like she wanted to stop you from reacting. Another was already snapping at the guys, her voice sharp, angry.

But it didn’t matter. None of it mattered.

Because the one person who was supposed to care, the one person who should have never let it get this far was laughing with them.

You turned to Jeongin, hoping begging to see something on his face. Regret. Guilt. Anything.

But he wasn’t even looking at you.

He didn’t even realize what he’d done.

Something inside you broke.

You swallowed against the lump in your throat, blinking quickly as your vision blurred. Your heart pounded in your chest, a painful, hollow ache spreading through you.

The conversation around you continued, the laughter still ringing in your ears, but you couldn’t hear it anymore.

All you could hear was your own heart shattering.

The chair scraped against the floor as you stood abruptly, the sudden movement drawing attention. Jeongin finally turned to you, his brows furrowing in confusion.

Like he didn’t understand.

Like he hadn’t just destroyed you.

The girls were already shifting, ready to go after you, but you shook your head. You didn’t want comfort. You didn’t want pity. You just needed to leave.

So you did.

You turned and walked away, your breath unsteady, your hands shaking.

And as you stepped out into the cold night air, the only thought running through your mind was simple.

If he really cares, he’ll come after me.

But deep down, you already knew.

He wouldn’t.

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