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leewritesstuff · 11 days ago

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First Encounter | Changbin x F!Reader

Summary: It's your first time in Korea and you decided to try a cafe when someone bumped into you and knocked over your drink.

Pairs: Changbin x Reader

Type: Fluff/Romance

AN: I have alot of these in my drafts and I decided to upload Changbin's own because I've notice so far I didn't post anything for him!

It was your first time in Korea, and the excitement buzzed in the air as you waited in line at a trendy little café, the kind that made your latte sound like an art form. The smell of freshly ground coffee beans and the warm, inviting atmosphere made you feel like you were stepping into a whole new world. The café was packed with people chatting softly in Korean, the sound of their conversations weaving together in a comforting rhythm, like the heartbeat of the city. You tried to catch snippets of the language, but everything around you felt like a blur. The barista behind the counter moved fluidly, creating art on the surface of each drink, his hands skilled and precise. The hum of the espresso machine added to the energy in the air, and for a moment, you felt like you were part of something bigger, something alive.

Your turn finally came, and you stepped forward to collect your iced latte, the cold glass slick with condensation. The creamy foam on top looked like a little cloud, and you couldn’t wait to sit by the window and sip it slowly, watching the city pass by. You imagined the coolness of the drink refreshing you as you took in the sights and sounds of the street outside. A perfect first morning in Korea, you thought.

But then, just as you were about to turn away, someone bumped into you. The collision was sudden, almost like it happened in slow motion—your latte tipped over, and in a fraction of a second, the cold coffee splashed across your shirt, the frothy foam spraying across your lap. You froze, blinking in surprise. The shock of the incident settled in, and you looked down at the mess, a mixture of embarrassment and confusion settling over you. Your shirt was now soaked in iced coffee, and your legs had a sticky layer of foam on them.

Before you could fully process what had happened, the man who had bumped into you turned around. His expression was one of genuine concern, and he immediately took a step forward. “Ah! Mianhae!” he said, his voice full of apology. His Korean was rapid, and his eyes were wide with worry.

You blinked, still in a daze. You were about to open your mouth, ready to speak, but before you could, he rushed over, waving his hands frantically. "Sorry, sorry!" he said again, his words spilling out in a rush as he desperately tried to fix the situation. His deep voice carried a sense of urgency, but it was soothing in its own way.

“Are you okay?” he asked, his voice sincere but thick with worry. You looked up at him, slightly overwhelmed. His face was familiar, but your mind couldn’t quite place it.

“I… um…” you trailed off, realizing that you didn’t speak much Korean, and the language barrier was suddenly much more apparent than you had anticipated. He frowned slightly, his brows furrowing as he noticed the confusion in your eyes.

"I… not speak Korean well," you said, your hands lifting slightly in an apologetic gesture, trying to make your limited understanding clear.

He paused for a moment, taking in your words. Then, with a look of sudden realization, his face softened. "Ah! I… pay... for... your... drink. Please, I pay," he said, switching to broken English, his words tumbling out in a clumsy, almost awkward rhythm. He gestured toward the counter, where the barista was preparing a new drink for you.

You blinked, processing the offer, but your instinct was to politely decline. “No, it’s alright,” you said, trying to brush off the situation. But something in his eyes—the genuine sincerity and concern—made you hesitate.

"No, no!" he said, his voice insistent but kind. "I make mess. I… help. I pay." His English was far from perfect, and it was clear he was trying his best, but his intentions were unmistakable. The warmth in his tone was disarming, and you found yourself pausing, caught off guard by how earnest he seemed.

“No, really,” you said again, though this time you weren’t quite as sure. He smiled sheepishly, a little unsure, his shoulders lifting in an apologetic shrug. “I… not want you mad at me.” His eyes were wide, and the embarrassment in his expression made it hard to refuse.

After a few more rounds of him apologizing, pleading in his broken English, you finally relented with a small smile. “Okay… thank you,” you said softly, your resistance weakening under the pressure of his kindness.

“Okay, okay!” he exclaimed, his face lighting up with relief. He quickly stepped forward to hand the cashier the money for your new drink, his movements almost childlike in their eagerness. He was so earnest about the whole situation that it was hard not to feel a little embarrassed for him.

Once the transaction was completed, he stepped back, offering you a small, almost shy smile. “Okay, I go now,” he said in broken English, nodding as if to reassure himself. With a small bow, he turned to leave, his broad shoulders and well-built physique impossible to miss as he made his way out of the café. You couldn’t help but notice how strong he looked—like he spent time at the gym.

As he walked away, you stood there for a moment, still processing the whole exchange. The mess, the apology, the genuine kindness—none of it was how you expected your first accidental coffee spill in Korea to go. You glanced down at your stained clothes, feeling a slight embarrassment of your own, but then something else hit you. This man, who had bumped into you and spilled your drink, had gone out of his way to make sure you were okay—and not only that, but he insisted on paying for your replacement drink, all while doing his best to communicate in a language that wasn’t his own. He was polite, considerate, and, well, kind of cute.

“Wow,” you muttered under your breath, still trying to wrap your head around the whole situation. A buff man, super polite, and kind—definitely not how you imagined your first accidental coffee spill in Korea would go. As he disappeared out the door, you found yourself smiling to yourself, feeling oddly touched by his persistence. Maybe Korea wasn’t such a bad place after all.

A few days later, you found yourself in the same café again, the memory of the accidental latte spill still fresh in your mind. The café had quickly become your go-to spot—its cozy, welcoming vibe, the quiet hum of conversations, and the lattes that tasted like a piece of heaven. Every time you stepped inside, you felt at home, the warm lighting and the soft clink of coffee cups grounding you in the moment. It was the kind of place where you could lose track of time, sipping your drink while people-watching or reading a book.

This time, you were determined to be extra cautious. After the spill incident, you’d been extra aware of the space around you. You stayed on alert, making sure there was enough distance between you and anyone else who might accidentally knock into you again. You even found yourself gravitating toward a corner table, away from the flow of traffic, hoping it would be the safest place. You didn’t want to risk another spill, and you certainly didn’t want another awkward encounter.

As you waited in line, your eyes darted around the room, scanning the familiar faces and the soothing ambiance of the café. Despite your precautions, you couldn’t shake the lingering feeling of embarrassment from last time. Maybe you had imagined it all—the kind, buff man offering to pay for your drink—but no. You hadn’t. It had really happened. That moment of unexpected kindness, his broken English, and his genuine concern for you... it was real, and you could still recall it as if it had just happened. You couldn’t stop wondering about him, about what he was like, and whether you’d ever see him again.

You stepped up to the counter, and the barista, who had become accustomed to your order, started preparing your usual iced latte. The soft sound of milk frothing and the gentle hum of the espresso machine filled the space around you. Your thoughts drifted for a moment, and just as the barista finished adding the final touches to your drink, you heard a familiar voice behind you.

“Ah, you again,” the voice said, a bit hesitant, but with a touch of warmth that immediately made your heart flutter.

You turned, surprised to hear English, and there he was. The man from the other day. He was standing a few feet away, looking at you with a shy smile, a little sheepish, but his eyes still sincere. The instant recognition hit you, and you couldn’t help the slight flutter in your chest.

“Oh,” you said, slightly startled but also relieved to see a familiar face. "Hey, it’s you."

He gave a small bow, and you couldn’t help but smile at the politeness of the gesture. It was cute, in a way, and the softness of it made your heart warm. “I… I sorry again for last time,” he said, his English a little broken, but still clear enough for you to understand. “I… not mean to make trouble.”

You chuckled softly, the awkwardness of that first encounter now replaced with something warmer. “No, it’s fine. Really, you didn’t have to pay for my drink.”

His smile grew wider, showing a bit of relief, like a weight had been lifted off his shoulders. “But I want to. You… very kind when I… bump you. I not forget,” he said, his voice carrying a sincerity that almost made you blush.

You blinked at his words, realizing he’d remembered you just as clearly as you remembered him. “I see,” you said, smiling back at him. “Well, thank you. I didn’t expect to see you here again.”

He laughed, a low, soft sound that felt like it belonged in the cozy atmosphere of the café. “I come here often. I… work near. And you?”

“Yeah, me too. It’s my favorite place now,” you replied, feeling the conversation flow easier than you expected. Something about his presence was putting you at ease. Maybe it was the fact that he didn’t seem like a stranger anymore—just someone who had shared a random but memorable moment with you.

“I like this place, too,” he said, taking a step closer, a hint of shyness still lingering. “Maybe... we drink together one day?” He spoke more carefully now, his words measured, as though he was making sure he said them right. His eyes were watching you intently, as if gauging your reaction.

Your heart skipped, but you didn’t want to jump to conclusions. You smiled and nodded, trying to keep the conversation light and casual. "Maybe. Who knows, right?"

He smiled back, and there was a glimmer of hope in his eyes, but also a quiet uncertainty. As the barista finished your latte and handed it to you, he gestured toward the door. “I go now. But maybe meet again, huh?”

You nodded, feeling a little more confident this time. “Yeah, maybe we will.”

With that, he gave you another small bow, the kind that felt polite but also personal, before turning and walking toward the door. You couldn’t help but watch him as he left—his movements were fluid, his broad shoulders adding to the sense that he was more than just a passerby in your life. He wasn’t a fleeting moment; there was something about him that made you feel like your paths might cross again.

As he disappeared out the door, you stood there, feeling a mix of emotions—surprise, curiosity, and something else, something you couldn’t quite place yet. You stood there for a moment, once again caught off guard by the strange, yet oddly comforting, encounter.

Taking a deep breath, you finally allowed yourself a smile as you took a sip of your latte. The cold, sweet taste of the coffee was comforting, and for the first time since you’d arrived in Korea, you felt like you were finally starting to find your place in this bustling city. Maybe Korea wasn’t such a bad place after all—and maybe, just maybe, this was the start of something new.

A few weeks had passed since that fateful second meeting at the café. You and the man—whose name you still didn’t know—had started running into each other more frequently, always exchanging polite smiles, casual conversation, and the occasional offer to buy the other a drink. He had been consistent with his friendly, gentle manner, and you found yourself enjoying his company more than you expected. Over time, those brief, awkward exchanges had evolved into a comfortable rhythm. The shy glances were replaced with genuine conversation, and those occasional nods had transformed into real interactions.

Every time you saw him, there was this soft energy about him that made you feel at ease. Yet, despite the growing familiarity, there was one glaring thing that still nagged at you. You still didn’t know his name. He’d never volunteered it, and you never dared to ask. Perhaps he didn’t feel the need to, or maybe it was just a cultural thing. But that small gap in your connection felt like a secret between you, something that was becoming harder to ignore.

Today, as you stood in line again, you felt a sense of anticipation that hadn’t been there before. It wasn’t just because of the familiar face you were about to see—it was because, over the past few weeks, the dynamic between you had shifted. The casual nods had become real, honest conversations, and you’d even shared laughs. He’d invited you to sit with him a few times, and each encounter seemed to bring you a little closer. Still, the mystery of his name lingered, like an unfinished sentence, and it made you wonder what else he was keeping from you.

As you waited for your drink, you couldn’t help but think of how far you’d come since that first awkward spill. That man, standing in front of you, was now someone you genuinely looked forward to seeing. The café had transformed into your shared space, your own little corner of the world where the two of you existed in this odd, yet comforting, bubble. But you had to admit: the lingering question of his name was starting to bug you more than you cared to admit.

Suddenly, you felt a tap on your shoulder, and there he was again—looking just as put-together as always, wearing that signature relaxed smile of his that always made your heart skip a beat.

"Hey," he greeted, his voice warm as always. "How you?"

You grinned, happy to see him. "Hey! It’s going well. You?"

“Same. Busy, but good,” he replied, leaning casually against the counter next to you, his eyes still soft but now carrying a hint of something more, something you couldn’t quite place. "I… um, I think... maybe we talk... little? I ask... something."

You raised an eyebrow, intrigued by the shift in tone. "What’s up?"

He shifted, his usual easygoing nature faltering for a moment, and you noticed how his eyes flickered away briefly, like he was gathering the courage to ask something important. "I… I wanna ask... you... maybe... you want... go out... like date?" His words tumbled out awkwardly, like he was piecing them together in his head, but there was no mistaking the sincerity in his eyes.

Your breath hitched, and you blinked in surprise, caught off guard by the suddenness of it all. "Well, I don’t know your name," you said, trying to lighten the situation, your voice a little shaky but playful. "It’s hard to go on a date with someone when I don’t even know your name."

He froze, staring at you in wide-eyed realization, and you could see the moment it clicked in his head. His face flushed slightly, and he scratched the back of his head in embarrassment. "Ah... my name... is... Changbin," he said slowly, clearly trying to pronounce it as best as he could, but it still came out a little jumbled, adding to the charm of the moment.

You froze. Changbin? Your brain had to process for a second, and then it hit you—like a freight train. Changbin, as in the Changbin from Stray Kids? Your heart skipped a beat, and a wave of panic set in. This wasn’t just some random guy from the café; this was someone from an entirely different world, a world that was far removed from your own, a world you didn’t think you could handle. The realization hit you like a rush of cold water.

"Oh," you said, your voice trembling slightly as you tried to process everything. "Changbin… right." You couldn’t hide the shock in your voice, and everything around you suddenly felt too big, too fast for this small, cozy café.

He blinked, still not fully understanding the shift in energy, and smiled, thinking you were still okay with the offer. “You... wanna... go out?” His voice was uncertain, but his eyes were hopeful.

You swallowed hard, trying to maintain your composure. The weight of the situation felt overwhelming. You hadn’t expected this, not in the slightest, and it was all happening so fast. "I... I need to go," you said quickly, shaking your head. "Sorry... I not... I don’t think this is... good idea."

His face fell, the confusion written all over it. “But... why? You no like me?” His words were simple, but the sincerity in them made your heart ache.

"No, it’s not that," you said softly, your voice shaky now. "I just... I think I should go." You turned away, not wanting to stay any longer, and hurried out of the café, your heart racing with a mixture of confusion and unease. You couldn’t make sense of what had just happened, and it all felt like too much too soon.

Outside, the cool air hit your face, but it didn’t calm the storm inside. Changbin. The man you had been casually talking to for weeks was someone you couldn’t begin to understand, someone who lived a life so different from yours. You didn’t know if you could handle that kind of world.

You walked away quickly, your thoughts in a fog. You couldn’t shake the feeling that this wasn’t the last time you’d see him—but part of you wasn’t sure you were ready for whatever came next. What did it mean, to date someone like him? Someone who had a life in the public eye, someone with a name you recognized? The idea felt so foreign, so out of your grasp.

It had been a few days since you’d seen Changbin. The memory of your hasty exit was still fresh in your mind, and you hadn’t expected to run into him again—certainly not so soon. Yet, as you stepped into the café that morning, you spotted him across the room. This time, he wasn’t alone. A man stood beside him, talking animatedly, his voice carrying over the low hum of conversation. You felt a familiar pang of nervousness, but you tried to shake it off. You were just here for your usual coffee. Nothing more. Just the same old routine.

But as you turned to grab your drink, you realized that Changbin was looking at you, his eyes lingering with a mix of curiosity and something else—something you couldn’t quite place. Before you could process it, you felt someone tap you on the shoulder.

You spun around, startled, and there he was—Changbin, standing in front of you. His usual easy smile was replaced with something a little more serious, though there was still warmth in his eyes. His friend was standing behind him, looking between the two of you with mild curiosity.

“Hey,” Changbin said, his English still rough but more confident this time. “Why... why you say no? I... I want to know.”

You blinked, taken aback by the question. “What do you mean?” you asked, confused by the sudden confrontation.

He looked at you with a frown, his words stumbling as he tried to get them out. “You... you say no to... me? Why? You no like me?”

You shook your head, trying to understand. “I... I don’t understand what you mean.”

Changbin’s frown deepened, and he looked back at his friend, clearly frustrated. He spoke quickly to him in Korean, and the friend raised an eyebrow, glancing at you and then back at Changbin. After a moment of silence, the friend gave a small nod, and Changbin turned back to you.

“I... I no speak good. My friend help,” he said, his voice apologetic yet still determined.

The friend stepped forward, offering a small smile. “Hi, I’m Chris. I’m a friend of his. Changbin here... he says he doesn’t understand why you rejected him.”

You bit your lip, unsure of how to explain. “Well, it’s not that I don’t like him,” you started, feeling a little uncomfortable under their gaze. “It’s just... he’s famous, and I... I don’t want to date someone like that because of all the attention and... backlash. You know? It’s a lot.”

Chris glanced at Changbin, then back at you. His expression softened, and he nodded, as if understanding. He turned to Changbin and spoke to him in Korean. Changbin’s face went still for a moment, and then he muttered something under his breath, clearly upset.

Chris turned back to you, translating with a serious expression. “He says... he doesn’t care about that. He... does not care about what others think. He just wants to be with you.”

Your heart raced as you processed the words. The sincerity in Changbin’s eyes was undeniable, but the weight of the situation still felt heavy. “I just... don’t know if I can handle it,” you said quietly. “I’m not sure about all the attention.”

Changbin let out a frustrated sigh and muttered something in Korean. “I don’t care... the stupid attention,” he said, his words clipped. “I just want... to go out with you.”

Chris smirked and looked at Changbin. “Dude, you really want her to say yes, huh?” he joked. “Maybe I need to go with you on the date, be your translator, and make sure you don’t screw up.”

Changbin’s eyes shot daggers at Chris, clearly embarrassed. He turned back to you, his face flushed with frustration. “Chris! You... why you embarrass me in front of her?”

Chris burst out laughing, holding up his hands in mock surrender. “I’m just trying to help, man! You’re so serious about this, I thought I’d throw in some humor.”

Changbin groaned and ran a hand through his hair, then turned back to you. His expression softened, and the earnestness returned. “I... I really like you. Please... go out with me.”

You paused for a moment, the weight of the situation still hanging heavily in the air. After what felt like an eternity, you finally sighed. “Okay,” you said quietly. “Okay, I’ll go out with you.”

Changbin’s face lit up, and he stepped forward, looking at Chris, who was now smirking. “See? I told you she’d say yes.”

Chris grinned and patted Changbin on the back. “Good luck, man,” he said before turning and walking away.

Changbin smiled at you, his eyes shining with excitement. “Thank you,” he said softly, almost too softly for anyone else to hear. “I promise... you won’t regret it.”

And just like that, everything shifted.

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kathaelipwse · 1 month ago

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"You Can’t Hide From Us"

Pairing: Jackson x GN!Reader x BamBam

Genre: FWB! Sick Comfort

Synopsis: The reader has been avoiding Jackson and BamBam, trying to hide how sick they are. But the boys find them anyway—and they’re not happy about it. Cue clingy, domestic fluff as they take care of their stubborn FWB.

Requested: Yes

Word count: 2.0k

You should have known they’d come looking for you.

Jackson and BamBam weren’t exactly the type to respect boundaries—not with you, at least. Being their friends-with-benefits (emphasis on the friends part) meant they were all up in your business, whether you liked it or not.

So the fact that you had been ignoring their texts and calls for the past few days? Yeah. That wasn’t going to fly.

Still, you tried.

You locked your doors, silenced your phone, and buried yourself under layers of blankets in your dimly lit apartment, fighting off the fever that had settled deep in your bones. Every movement felt sluggish, your head pounding with the force of a thousand drumbeats. But no way in hell were you going to call them.

You didn’t need them to worry.

You didn’t need them to see you like this.

Unfortunately for you, Jackson and BamBam didn’t need an invitation to break into your life—literally.

The knock at your front door was loud and insistent.

"Honey! Open up!" BamBam’s voice rang through the silence of your apartment.

You squeezed your eyes shut, willing them away.

Another knock. Harder this time.

Jackson’s voice, firmer, laced with suspicion: "We know you’re in there. Stop ignoring us."

You groaned, curling deeper into your blanket cocoon. Maybe if you stayed silent, they’d just—

Click.

Your front door swung open, the cons of giving them your apartment keys.

Shit.

You peeked out from under your blanket just as the two men stepped inside, their expressions shifting from annoyed to concerned the moment they saw you.

"Oh, hell no," BamBam muttered, his usual teasing lilt replaced with something softer.

Jackson crossed the room in three long strides, his eyes narrowing as he took in your pale skin, glassy eyes, and the way you shivered despite the warmth of your apartment.

Without a word, he crouched down beside you, pressing the back of his hand against your forehead. His lips immediately pressed into a tight line.

"You’re burning up," he said, voice dangerously low.

You tried to shrug weakly, but BamBam was already climbing onto the couch beside you, poking at your cheek. "How could you hide this from us?!"

"I—" Your throat burned as you tried to speak, and you coughed into your sleeve instead.

"No. Nope. Shut up." Jackson stood, hands on his hips like an angry mother. "We’re not doing this. You’re sick, and you thought it was a good idea to suffer alone?"

You opened your mouth—to lie, to downplay it, to make an excuse—but BamBam wasn’t having it.

With zero hesitation, he wrapped himself around you, effectively trapping you under his weight. "Guess what? You’re stuck with us now."

"Get off me, you menace," you croaked, but your voice was too weak to sound threatening.

Jackson, unimpressed, simply bent down and—without warning—scooped you up into his arms.

"Jackson—!" you wheezed, but he was already carrying you to your bedroom.

BamBam followed, dramatically clutching his chest. "You should’ve told us, babe. We would've come over days ago."

Jackson set you down gently, pulling the covers up to your chin before sitting on the edge of your bed, arms crossed. "From now on, if you’re sick, you call us. Got it?"

BamBam leaned down, pressing his forehead against yours with an exaggerated pout. "Got it, baby?"

You scowled, but the warmth of their presence—their concern, their ridiculous yet oddly comforting energy—was already breaking through the feverish haze in your mind.

"Fine," you muttered.

BamBam grinned.

Jackson sighed in relief.

And just like that, you lost your right to be left alone.

Jackson took the kitchen.

You heard him rummaging through your cabinets, muttering about "Where the hell is their ginger?" and "I swear, if they don’t have soup ingredients, I’m buying groceries and force-feeding them."

BamBam took the job of “emotional support.”

Which really meant he was laying next to you, playing with your hair, and dramatically sighing every few minutes.

"You really thought you could avoid us?" He tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, his teasing tone softer than usual. "You think we wouldn’t notice?"

Your throat was too sore to argue, so you just nudged him weakly with your elbow.

He gasped, clutching his chest. "They still have the energy to bully me. They must be getting better."

You would’ve rolled your eyes if they weren’t so heavy.

Twenty minutes later, Jackson returned with a bowl of homemade soup.

You stared at it. "That looks… suspicious."

BamBam, peering over your shoulder, snorted. "Did you poison them?"

Jackson shot him a deadpan look before turning back to you. "Shut up and eat."

You took a tentative sip. It was… actually decent? Maybe a little strong on the ginger, but warm and comforting nonetheless.

"Okay, it’s not bad," you admitted.

Jackson smirked, smug as ever. "Told you."

BamBam, meanwhile, tried a spoonful and fake gagged. "Ugh, what is this? Medicine?"

Jackson shoved him. "It’s soup, dumbass. Go eat instant ramen if you don’t appreciate my cooking."

Despite the teasing, the room felt soft—warmer than it had been all day.

Hours later, when your fever had lowered slightly, you found yourself half-asleep between them.

Jackson was seated against the headboard, his fingers lazily running up and down your arm. BamBam was curled into your side, one hand still tangled in your hair.

It was… comfortable. Too comfortable.

Maybe that’s why the words slipped out before you could stop them.

"Didn’t want to bother you guys."

Jackson stilled, his fingers pausing for just a second before resuming their slow, soothing motion. "You’re not a bother."

BamBam shifted, his face now dangerously close to yours, voice soft in a way you weren’t used to. "You know that, right?"

Your chest tightened—but this time, it wasn’t because of the fever.

For a long moment, no one spoke.

Then, Jackson sighed, pressing a feather-light kiss to your forehead.

BamBam nuzzled closer, his breath warm against your cheek.

And just like that, your defenses crumbled completely.

Maybe you were too tired to keep pretending. Maybe you didn’t want to anymore.

Either way, you let your eyes flutter shut, breathing in the scent of them—cologne, warmth, something unmistakably Jackson and BamBam.

And as sleep finally pulled you under, you missed the way they glanced at each other over your head.

Missed the way BamBam murmured, "Dude, we’re screwed."

And Jackson, running a hand through his hair, exhaling softly: "Yeah… we like them too much, don’t we?"

---

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arxiwon · 1 month ago

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hello! can i request a high school/college au fic (maybe a boarding school like decelis academy) where niki and reader are frenemies/rivals who secretly like each other but are too prideful to admit it? reader then kisses another enhypen member (maybe jake or jungwon?) out of spite at a party, and niki finds out and gets upset, and him and reader fight about it (theyre both stupid😂). happy ending?

Public Enemy (Lover) Number One ⋆. 𐙚 ˚

Pairing: Nishimura Riki | Ni-ki × Reader

Genre: High School AU, Rivals-to-Lovers, Angst, Fluff, Slight Crack

Warnings: Swearing, Petty Jealousy, Lots of Banter, Ni-ki Being an Absolute Menace, Public Kissing

Synopsis:

You and Ni-ki have spent years at Decelis Academy as sworn rivals—constantly at each other’s throats, never missing a chance to one-up the other. Everyone at school knows you hate each other.

Except… maybe you don’t.

Because when a reckless kiss at a party makes Ni-ki snap, it sets off a chain reaction of fights, confessions, and a whole lot of tension neither of you can ignore anymore. And once he finally makes things official? He does it in the most dramatic, smug, and public way possible—just to make sure everyone (especially Jungwon) knows.

After all, if Ni-ki’s gonna claim you as his, he’s gonna make sure the whole world sees. 😏🔥

You weren’t sure when it started—this relentless, exhausting war between you and Riki Nishimura. Maybe it was the first time he beat you on a math exam by one point, smirking like it was the greatest accomplishment of his life. Maybe it was when you outran him during a school race and he spent weeks demanding a rematch. Maybe it was just how the universe worked: two stars caught in each other’s gravity, forced to collide over and over.

But for as long as you could remember, it had been the two of you. Always competing. Always fighting. Always pretending that none of it mattered when it clearly did.

If someone asked, you’d both say you hated each other. And yet, no matter what, your eyes always found him in a crowded room. And his? They were always on you.

Tonight was no different.

Jungwon’s arm draped around your waist as you leaned against the balcony railing, sipping lazily from your drink. The party was loud, music vibrating through the walls of the grand Decelis dormitory, but your mind was somewhere else. Or rather—on someone else.

Ni-ki sat inside, sprawled on a couch, laughing at something the girl beside him said. His eyes hadn’t landed on you once tonight, which was strange. Normally, you’d already be in the middle of some petty argument, or he’d be throwing snide remarks from across the room, waiting for your reaction. But not tonight.

Tonight, he was ignoring you.

You shouldn’t care. You didn’t care.

But the irritation creeping under your skin told you otherwise.

Maybe that’s why you did it.

Maybe it was the frustration, the bitterness, the need to get something out of him.

Or maybe it was just because Jungwon was already standing beside you, already close enough to pull in.

So you kissed him.

You barely had time to process it before it was over, before Jungwon pulled back slightly with a look of mild surprise, before his gaze flickered behind you—

And before you were yanked away.

A strong hand curled around your wrist, tugging you through the party and out onto the empty school grounds. The cool night air hit your skin, but all you could feel was the searing heat of the boy dragging you forward.

“Ni-ki—”

“What the fuck was that?”

His voice was low, tight with anger, his grip on your wrist firm but not enough to hurt. He finally let go, running a hand through his hair as he turned to face you, eyes burning with something unreadable.

You crossed your arms, tilting your head. “What do you mean?”

Ni-ki let out a sharp laugh, completely void of humor. “Don’t play dumb.” His tongue ran over his teeth as he took a step closer. “You kissed Jungwon.”

“And?”

“And?” He looked like he wanted to break something. “Are you actually serious right now?”

Your jaw tightened. “Why do you even care?”

His expression darkened. “Why do I—? You were the one staring at me all night like a kicked puppy.”

You scoffed. “Excuse me?”

Ni-ki exhaled harshly, shaking his head. “This is so fucking stupid.”

“You’re right,” you snapped. “It is stupid. Because you don’t get to sit there with some girl draped all over you and then get mad when I—”

“It’s not the same thing.”

“Oh, it’s not?”

Ni-ki took another step forward. You stood your ground, heart pounding, refusing to back down even when he was this close.

He inhaled sharply, voice quieter this time. “You did it on purpose.”

Your breath hitched.

He was right.

You had.

Ni-ki saw the hesitation flicker across your face and let out a low chuckle, shaking his head. “You’re unbelievable.”

Your fists clenched. “And you’re an asshole.”

Something flashed in his eyes. Frustration, amusement, something dangerous. “Why him?” His voice dropped, rough around the edges.

You swallowed.

Ni-ki tilted his head slightly, gaze locking onto yours, unrelenting. “Why Jungwon?”

You exhaled slowly. “Because he was there.”

The silence that followed was deafening.

Ni-ki let out another quiet laugh, but this time, it wasn’t bitter. It was something else. Something darker.

His fingers brushed against your jaw, tilting your chin up just slightly.

“So that’s what it takes?” he murmured. “You wanted my attention that bad?”

Your stomach flipped.

“You’re so full of yourself,” you bit out, but your voice wasn’t nearly as steady as before.

Ni-ki leaned in, lips just a breath away from yours. “Am I?”

The air was thick, suffocating, the tension so palpable it was almost painful. Your pulse roared in your ears as his fingers ghosted over your skin.

Then, in a voice barely above a whisper, he asked,

“Do you want me to remind you who you really belong with?”

The last shred of your pride shattered.

You didn’t answer. You didn’t have to.

Because a second later, his lips crashed against yours, and for the first time in your never-ending war, you surrendered.

The kiss ended too fast.

Or maybe it lasted forever.

You weren’t sure anymore, because all you could feel was the rapid thud of your heart and the warmth of Ni-ki’s hands still gripping your waist. He didn’t move away—not really—but his lips hovered just above yours, like he was debating whether to kiss you again.

You hated that you wanted him to.

Ni-ki exhaled slowly, his breath warm against your skin. “You’re not running.”

Your hands curled into the fabric of his shirt, not sure if you wanted to push him away or pull him closer. “Shut up.”

His lips twitched. “You kissed Jungwon just to piss me off.”

Your glare was half-hearted at best. “And?”

Ni-ki smirked. “It worked.”

You swallowed hard, unable to look away. The fire in his eyes was different now—no longer just frustration, no longer just a game of one-upping each other. This was something deeper.

Something real.

The realization sent a wave of panic through you.

You didn’t do this. You didn’t do real.

Not with him.

With a sharp inhale, you shoved him back—just enough to break the suffocating tension. “I need to go.”

You turned on your heel, fully prepared to walk away and pretend none of this happened—

But Ni-ki caught your wrist, pulling you right back into him.

His voice was quiet this time, almost hesitant. “Don’t.”

You froze.

Not because of the way he was holding you—firm but gentle—but because he sounded different. No teasing. No smugness. Just Ni-ki, standing in front of you, raw and unguarded for the first time.

You hated how easily it made your heart ache.

He sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “I don’t want to fight anymore.”

You scoffed, trying to ignore the way your stomach flipped at his words. “That’s funny, coming from you.”

Ni-ki chuckled softly, shaking his head. “Yeah, I know.” His expression turned more serious. “But I mean it.”

You looked at him—really looked at him.

And for the first time, you realized he wasn’t just your rival.

He was your constant.

Every day, every fight, every stupid little argument—it had always been him.

Your throat felt tight. “Ni-ki…”

He gave you a lopsided grin, but his grip on your wrist tightened slightly, like he was afraid you’d slip away. “Just admit it.”

You frowned. “Admit what?”

“That you like me.”

Your pulse stopped.

And then Ni-ki laughed—not mocking, not teasing, but soft and knowing. “Because if you don’t, I’m just gonna have to keep proving it to you until you do.”

Your lips parted, but no words came out.

Because, deep down, you already knew.

You had always known.

And when Ni-ki leaned in again—slower this time, letting you decide—you didn’t pull away.

Because for once, there was nothing left to fight about.

The next morning, the halls of Decelis Academy were buzzing.

News traveled fast around here, but apparently, nothing spread faster than rumors of a certain heated argument-turned-makeout session between you and Ni-ki.

You weren’t even halfway to class before Sunoo caught you by the arm, eyes practically glowing with excitement. “Is it true?”

You groaned. “What now?”

“The fight! The kiss! The storming off into the night! Everyone’s talking about it!” Sunoo leaned in conspiratorially. “I mean, we all knew something was going on between you two, but this?” He whistled. “Legendary.”

You rolled your eyes, muttering a curse under your breath. Of course people had seen. Of course Ni-ki hadn’t bothered to deny anything.

You were still debating how to respond when Sunoo’s gaze flickered over your shoulder—and then he grinned.

“Well, speak of the devil.”

A familiar presence appeared beside you, and before you could react, an arm slung itself over your shoulders.

“Morning, babe.”

Your entire body froze.

Did he just—?

Ni-ki smirked down at you, completely unbothered. “What? You’re acting like we didn’t make out last night.”

Sunoo gasped.

“Shut up,” you hissed, trying (and failing) to shove him off.

Ni-ki only chuckled, holding on tighter, making sure everyone in the hallway got a good look. “What? I’m just saying it how it is.”

By now, people were staring. Some whispering. Some outright gawking.

And then—

“Are you serious right now?”

The voice cut through the air like a knife, sharp and incredulous.

Jungwon stood just a few feet away, arms crossed, looking between the two of you like he couldn’t believe his eyes.

Ni-ki’s smirk widened. “Something wrong?”

Jungwon scoffed. “You hate each other.”

Ni-ki hummed thoughtfully. “Mm. I thought so too.” He turned to you, eyes flickering with something smug. “But apparently, I was just blind.”

Your heart stuttered.

Ni-ki leaned in slightly, lips barely brushing your ear. “I see everything now, though.”

Your breath hitched.

Jungwon made a noise of absolute disgust. “You guys are the worst.”

Ni-ki just grinned. “Yeah, yeah, get used to it.”

And then—because he had no shame—he kissed you.

Right there.

In the middle of the hallway.

In front of everyone.

You barely registered the chorus of gasps and shouts around you. Your mind went blank, completely overridden by the feeling of Ni-ki’s lips pressing firmly against yours—possessive, teasing, and undeniably real.

When he finally pulled away, he had the audacity to wink.

“Guess that makes it official.”

You stared at him, still dazed. “You’re unbelievable.”

Ni-ki just grinned. “And you love it.”

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writhyv · 1 month ago

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⋆｡°✩ screwin' that job

rushing to meet your ends and accumulating bills on top of other bills, your bestfriend sunghoon recommends you to his sister's cafe for a job that pays pretty well. between slinging lattes and bantering over burnt pastries, life feels somewhat manageable — until he walks in — a sharply dressed handsome stranger with such a tailored charm built for disarming smiles. your veins ignite like its struck with a triple espresso shot, heart drumming faster than the café’s indie playlist. suddenly, your tending apron feels like a straitjacket, and every customer except him blurs into static. how do you explain this dizzying pull?

𓏲 ๋࣭ ࣪ ˖✦⋆˚ pairing — park jongseong x male!reader

𓏲 ๋࣭ ࣪ ˖✦⋆˚ tags— male reader, jay x reader, smau / texting, strangers to lovers, cafe worker!reader, love at first sight, mostly fluff, more to come!

𓏲 ๋࣭ ࣪ ˖✦⋆˚ warning + notes— use of male pronouns, has some implied relationships, swear words, innuendos, author's interpretation of the people in this fic might not reflect them irl, story update lengths may vary~

𓏲 ๋࣭ ࣪ ˖✦⋆˚ got me shakin' : the full masterlist

𓏲 ๋࣭ ࣪ ˖✦⋆˚ kai's notes — just a quick update but AAAA thanks for the support! really just wanted to write this small drabble out so let's see where YOU are headed next update loooool

𓏲 ๋࣭ ࣪ ˖✦⋆˚ story taglist — @kaiyunsim @parkalex21 @nootnootpinguuu @gnusihcom @acidangel-fromasia

𓏲 ๋࣭ ࣪ ˖✦⋆˚ can i join the taglist? — sure! i do frequent posts and updates so just be warned! leave a reply on any posts and i'll add ya in the future updates, much love~ 𓏲 ๋࣭ ࣪ ˖✦⋆˚ got me shakin' : the full masterlist

my masterlist! | made by writhyv 💘

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yjhzies · 1 year ago

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“Random bf texts w/ jeonghan„

Genre: fluff, crack, smau Warning: bickering (lovingly 💞) - (let me know if there r more <3) Pairings: jeonghan x f!reader

★ note · first time trying smau its so weird plss 😭🤞

#svt jeonghan #svt oneshot #svt fluff #svt texts #svt smau #svt fake texts #svt au #seventeen smau #seventeen fluff #seventeen fake texts #seventeen one shot #kpop smau #kpop texts #kpop social media au #seventeen oneshot #jeonghan smau #jeonghan x reader

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ikeupied · 2 months ago

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⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀࿙ྀི⃜࿚⃜࿚⃜⠀ ⠀ ─⠀ ⠀masterlist⠀⠀ ৩ྀ

perm taglist is open!! leave an ask or a comment in this post to be added <3.

★ FICS

breaking the silence ; lhs

★ SMAUS

not yours ; sjy

unbearable ; nrk

★ DRABBLES

coming soon

#ikeupied #kpop #kpop x reader #enha imagines #smau #drabble #one shot #kpop x y/n #kpop x you #kpop x fem reader #kpop imagines #enhypen scenarios #enha x reader #enhypen smau #enhypen

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misojunnie · 2 years ago

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Hi I don't know if you're accepting requests right now but can i request K (&Team) as a boyfriend. I loved your nicholas one. Thank you so much 💋❤️♥️🌹

케이 - k as your bf!

ॱ⋅.˳˳.⋅ॱᐧ.˳˳.⋅ʚϊɞ.

will annoy you with texts 24/7. “did u eat???” “I’m so bored” “can u game w me plz”

sends songs that remind you of him whenever he’s away for work and misses you

so sassy. sassy man apocalypse

the type to hold your waist from behind when you’re talking to your friends :(((((

never lets you go to bed angry. you guys always gotta talk it out and resolve things!!!

he let’s you sit on his back while he does push ups

gets insanely protective. K is usually all sunshine and rainbows, but if someone fucks with you they are over.

super competitive when it comes to you

if he sees you happily watching soccer on tv, he’ll pout and b like “hey, you know I’m really good at soccer too?”

also competitive in other ways, like he thinks you’re the best gf ever. if someone else starts talking about their gf, he’ll start arguing that you’re prettier and smarter, etc

he’s trying to be nicer but he often can’t hold back a sassy quip or remark. this boy has an ATTITUDE.

buys hoodies just to lend them to you

he says he bought them cause his other ones are too old or you stole them all, but he secretly bought them so you could wear them

he loves it when you smell like him

the type to be cold at first and then get super attached

he pretended like he didn’t like you for sooooo long, but when he fell, he fell super hard

will buy you pretty little earrings or bows or random girly stuff he thinks is cute

wraps his arm around your shoulder when you walk around. if you’re shorter than him, he’d 100% rest his chin on your head

if he wants something, he’ll just stare at you until you get the hint

“why are you looking at me like that?” “wow, you finally noticed. can we cuddle now?”

a/n: I’m so glad you guys liked the nicho bf hcs!!!!! making a K version was so fun I might do this for all of &team >.< lmk if you guys have any more requests!

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lololololchips · 10 days ago

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more woozi bf fluff texts plz !! 🫶🏻 thank yew

took me so long BUT ITS HERE!!!!

Lee Jihoon || even more bf texts with woozi

genre: one shot texts, fake texts, fluff, idol!bf

warnings: nothing just pure fluff🙁

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blossominghunnie · 1 year ago

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𝐁𝐮𝐭 𝐈 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮

Pairing: non!idolWonbin x fem!reader, ft Seok Matthew of zb1

Genre: Fluff, f2l, one shot smau

Warning: Cursing

Notes: Lately I’ve been more down for this man (if that was even posible, lmao) so here’s another imagine. 🥸 Also, I’m using Somi as a fc, cause I love her and I normally imagine her when I read fanfics jsjs.

Riize masterlist || Main masterlist

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qyuoza · 2 years ago

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NO CELESTIAL! — Part Eight: Fake Dating

masterlist.

prev. // next.

taglist (open, just send an ask or dm to be added): @impureperhaps @ox1-lovesick @captivq @ineedaherosavemeenow @sixteenthavenuesblog @wonioml @telengraph @forever-in-the-sky2 @junhuicosmo

note: bold = couldn’t be tagged! hi everyone we’re finally fake dating crazy right. im so excited for them idk abt y/n though

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pompurin-jakes · 2 years ago

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YO does anyone know the name or the link to this one jungwon oneshot where yn and jungwon go to sleep as highschoolers and wake up as adults in the same bed and then after trying to figure whats going on they hear a baby's cry from down the hall and they start to pice things together and realize that they are actually married and the baby is theirs.

Yall PLZ help ive been looking for it EVERYWHERE.

#enhypen #kpop #enha #jungwon x reader #enhypen smau #yang jungwon #Help me find this oneshot yall #one shot #Fluff #Fanfic #Enha #Enhypen x reader #Enha x reader

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leewritesstuff · 11 days ago

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Price of Rejection | Felix x Reader

Summary: Rejections hurt but it also hurt even more when it backfires.

Pairs: Felix x Reader

Type: Angst

AN: I was going to make this into a series, but I decided a one shot is better.

Every morning, without fail, you found something waiting for you—flowers carefully arranged with tiny handwritten notes, chocolates wrapped in ribbons, delicate trinkets chosen with obvious thoughtfulness. At first, you ignored them. Then, you tried to be polite, brushing off Felix’s gestures with tight smiles and dismissive remarks. When that didn’t work, you told him, clearly and firmly, to stop.

But he never did.

It didn’t matter how many times you rejected his advances, how many ways you tried to make him understand—Felix just wouldn’t let go. He was persistent, always there, always waiting, always hoping.

Tonight was the final straw.

You turned the corner, already dreading what you knew you would find. And there he was, standing in the dim glow of the streetlight outside your building, hands curled around yet another gift—this time, a silver bracelet, glinting under the soft light. His eyes lit up when he saw you, his expression so full of warmth and certainty, like he truly believed this time would be different. That this time, you’d accept him.

You didn’t let him speak.

“Felix,” you snapped, your patience snapping with it. “Enough. Just stop.”

His smile faltered, confusion flashing across his face. Still, he held the bracelet out to you. “I just thought—”

“I don’t care what you thought.” Your voice was sharp, cutting through the quiet night air. You took a deep breath, trying to temper the frustration clawing at your chest. But it was too late. You were done playing nice. Done pretending this wasn’t suffocating. “I don’t like you, Felix. I never have. And I never will. You’re not my type, and you never will be.”

Silence stretched between you, thick and heavy, but you weren’t finished.

“You’re clingy. You don’t know how to take a hint. You smother me with all these gifts, like that’s going to magically change how I feel, but it doesn’t—it makes me like you even less.” Your arms crossed tightly over your chest. “You don’t listen. You’re too pushy. And honestly? You make me uncomfortable.”

Felix stood frozen in place, his grip tightening on the bracelet. His knuckles turned white, but he didn’t say anything.

You exhaled sharply and shook your head. “Do you even realize what you’re doing? You think just because you’re nice to me, I owe you something? I don’t. I never did.” You scoffed. “You don’t even care about what I want. You just keep forcing yourself into my space like I’ll magically wake up one day and fall in love with you. Well, newsflash—I won’t.”

The look in his eyes shifted—hope replaced by something raw, something shattered. His lips parted slightly, but no words came out.

“I… I didn’t mean to make you feel that way,” he finally said, his voice small, hesitant.

“Well, you did,” you replied coldly. “So do me a favor and stop. No more gifts. No more waiting for me. No more anything. Just leave me alone.”

For a moment, Felix didn’t move. He just stood there, shoulders tense, chest rising and falling unevenly, as if he was trying to process every word you’d just thrown at him. Then, without another word, he turned away. The silver bracelet—one you’d never wear, one you never asked for—remained clenched in his hand.

You watched him walk away, his figure growing smaller with every step, until he finally disappeared from sight.

And for the first time in weeks, you felt like you could finally breathe.

After that night, everything changed. The silence between you and the others stretched longer, thick and suffocating. Conversations that once flowed effortlessly now felt forced, if they happened at all. You noticed the hesitation in their voices, the careful way they spoke around you—like they were afraid of saying the wrong thing, or maybe just afraid of you.

The easygoing atmosphere was gone, replaced by something colder, something uncomfortable. And you hated it.

But the final blow came when Chris didn’t show up for your monthly hangout.

You had been waiting at home, expecting him to knock on your door any second like he always did. It was routine—he’d show up late but grinning, maybe carrying snacks or some dumb inside joke from the past month, making himself at home on your couch like he always had. It was the one constant in your life, something you never thought would change.

But tonight, the minutes stretched into an hour. Then two.

The knock never came.

You checked your phone. No texts. No calls.

Annoyance twisted in your stomach. Chris never missed this. Even when he was busy, even when things got complicated, he always made time. But tonight? Nothing. No explanation, no excuse—just silence.

You weren’t going to let this slide.

The next day, you found him alone, leaning against the railing outside the dorms, scrolling through his phone like he had nothing to answer for.

“What the hell, Chris?” You stormed up to him, barely holding back the frustration in your voice.

He looked up, sighed, and locked his phone. “What?”

“You know what. You didn’t show up last night.”

Chris exhaled through his nose, his jaw tensing. “Didn’t feel like going.”

“Didn’t feel like—” You scoffed. “Seriously? And you didn’t think to tell me?”

Chris dragged a hand through his hair, his expression already tired, like he was done with the conversation before it even started. “Look, I just… I wasn’t in the mood. That’s it.”

But that wasn’t it. You could see it in his face.

Your stomach twisted, frustration burning hotter in your chest. “Be honest, Chris. What’s your problem?”

His gaze darkened, and for the first time, he looked at you like he didn’t recognize you.

“You really don’t get it, do you?” he muttered.

“Get what?”

Chris let out a short, humorless laugh, shaking his head. “The way you treated Felix. That’s my problem.”

Your breath caught. “Are you serious?”

“Yeah, I am.” His voice was firm now, no hesitation. “Look, I get that you don’t like him. That’s fine. But the way you shut him down? It was cruel. He didn’t deserve that.”

You stared at him, stunned.

Cruel? He thought you were cruel?

“He didn’t listen to me, Chris!” you argued. “I told him over and over again that I wasn’t interested, but he just kept pushing! What was I supposed to do—keep letting him smother me with gifts until I gave in?”

Chris’s jaw clenched. “You could’ve been nicer.”

You let out a sharp, bitter laugh. “Nice wouldn’t have worked. It didn’t work. He wasn’t getting the message.”

Chris shook his head, shoving his hands into his pockets. “I don’t know, maybe just… not tear him apart like that? We all saw how wrecked he was after you told him off. And now, none of us know how to act around you. Felix still loves you, and you—” He let out a sharp breath, like he was trying to keep himself from saying something he’d regret. “I just didn’t think you were that kind of person.”

That was it. That was the moment something inside you snapped.

Without another word, you turned on your heel, anger curling in your gut, and you knew exactly where you were going.

Felix was sitting outside alone, his arms resting on his knees, his gaze fixed on the sky. The usual light in his eyes was dimmer, his shoulders hunched slightly like the weight of everything was finally sinking in. But when he saw you, his lips parted slightly in surprise, and for a brief moment, that stupid, soft smile flickered to life. Like he still had hope.

But you weren’t here for that.

“This is your fault,” you spat, and the smile immediately dropped.

Felix blinked. “What?”

“My friends are acting like I’m some kind of monster, Chris won’t even look at me, and it’s your fault.”

His expression twisted into something pained, but you didn’t stop.

“You just had to keep pushing, didn’t you?” Your voice was sharp, laced with frustration. “I told you I wasn’t interested, I told you to stop, but you wouldn’t. And now? Now I’m the bad guy because I finally had to make you listen.”

Felix swallowed, his hands gripping his sleeves. “I… I didn’t want to make things hard for you,” he murmured. “I just—” He looked away, exhaling shakily. “I love you.”

Something in his voice—something raw, something so heartbreakingly genuine—made your chest tighten. But you pushed it down, pushed it all down, because none of it mattered.

“Well, I don’t love you,” you snapped. “And now I’ve lost my friends because of you.”

Felix flinched, like you had physically hit him. He looked at you for a long moment, searching your face for something—maybe regret, maybe softness. But there was nothing.

Finally, he nodded, the corners of his mouth twitching like he was trying to keep himself from breaking completely.

“…I’m sorry,” he whispered.

You scoffed and turned away, leaving him sitting there alone.

Days passed, then weeks. The silence from your friends became suffocating, pressing down on you in ways you hadn’t expected.

At first, you told yourself it didn’t matter. They were overreacting. You had done nothing wrong. Felix wouldn't take no for an answer, and you had put an end to it the only way he would finally understand. If they had a problem with that, it wasn’t your fault.

But as time stretched on, the loneliness became impossible to ignore.

The group hangouts continued—just without you. You’d see the photos on social media, the ones that used to include you, now filled with laughter that wasn’t yours. The inside jokes you once helped create now lived in conversations you weren’t a part of. When you passed them in the halls, the warmth that had always been there was gone, replaced with brief nods or tight-lipped smiles that felt more like politeness than familiarity.

Even Chris, the one person you thought would never turn his back on you, kept his distance. The messages that used to flood your phone—stupid memes, sarcastic remarks, last-minute plans—had dwindled into nothing. The absence of them felt louder than any confrontation ever could.

One evening, you found yourself scrolling through your phone, past unread messages that weren’t meant for you, past stories and posts from gatherings you hadn’t been invited to. You told yourself you didn’t care, that it was their loss.

But your stomach twisted.

An ache settled in your chest, unfamiliar and unwelcome.

You had pushed Felix away. But in doing so, you had pushed all of them away, too.

And Felix…

Felix was moving on.

You saw it in the way he carried himself—lighter, freer, like he had finally let go of something heavy. He no longer looked at you with quiet hope lingering in his eyes. He stopped waiting for you after class, stopped leaving small gifts, stopped orbiting around you entirely. And for some reason, that realization left a hollow space where your frustration used to be.

For the first time, you wondered—had it really been him holding on all this time?

Or had you needed him to?

It wasn’t until a month later that you finally swallowed your pride and reached out to Chris.

"Hey," you texted. "Can we talk?"

The message sat there, unread, for hours.

You stared at it, debating whether to delete it, to pretend you had never sent it at all. But just as you were about to give up, the typing bubble appeared.

Meet me at the café.

The air between you was thick with something unsaid as you sat across from him. The café was one you had been to a hundred times before, but today, it felt unfamiliar.

Chris was unreadable, arms crossed, his expression carefully neutral. He was studying you, waiting—not just for an explanation, but for the right one.

You hesitated, then exhaled. "I miss you."

Chris’s jaw tightened. He looked away, shaking his head slightly. "You miss me, or you miss us?"

You swallowed hard. "Both."

Chris let out a slow breath, leaning back in his chair. "You really don’t get it, do you?" His voice wasn’t angry, just… tired.

Your stomach twisted. "Then what was it about?"

Chris exhaled sharply, rubbing his temple. "The way you handled everything. The way you made Felix feel like garbage. He wasn’t some obsessed stalker, he loved you. And yeah, maybe he was persistent, maybe he didn’t know when to back off, but he never meant to hurt you."

He shook his head, his gaze sharp. "But you— you crushed him. And the worst part? You never even cared."

You opened your mouth to argue, but the words stuck in your throat. Because deep down, you knew there was truth in what he was saying.

Chris leaned forward, his voice quieter now. "I get it. You didn’t love him. You had every right to reject him. But you didn’t just reject him—you tore him apart. And for what? To prove a point?"

Your fingers curled into fists. "I just wanted him to stop."

"He would’ve," Chris said. "Eventually, he would’ve. But now? Now, he’s finally moved on, and you’re the one left behind."

Silence stretched between you, thick and heavy.

Chris sighed, shaking his head. "I don’t hate you. None of us do. But we saw a side of you we didn’t expect, and it’s hard to forget."

His words landed like a punch to the chest.

He met your gaze, his eyes filled with something you couldn’t quite name. "You can’t undo what happened. But maybe, just maybe, it’s not too late to try and make things right."

Your breath caught. "With Felix?"

Chris hesitated, then nodded. "With yourself."

As you left the café, his words echoed in your mind.

Maybe it was too late to fix everything.

Maybe things would never go back to the way they were.

But maybe… just maybe… you weren’t as right as you had thought you were.