#sowon loves you | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

agi-ppangxyz · 11 months ago

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i cant tell you how many times i had to take a break because i was crying so hard... sahar, there's so much love and beauty and hope in you and the way you pour it into your works makes me believe in love over and over again and my heart hurts so much right now because i didnt even know this fic will hit me so hard, i feel as if it crawled deep into my soul and ripped my old wounds and now they're bleeding again but because of you and your works and your beautiful mind i know there's someone who's willing to treat them so they wont hurt anymore. i love you for sharing a piece of yourself everytime you post something new and thank you for giving hope to me<3

here are some of my favourite lines as usual ((not all of them though bc tumblr wont let me pick more than ten☹️)):

pieces of you

single dad!chan. x fem!reader

genre : neighbors!au. fluff. angst. slow burn. mutual pining. 8.7k wc

summary : In which you and chan are each other's missing pieces. Alternatively, Chris and his daughter come knocking at your apartment asking for flour, and he's no longer embarrassed when you open the door.

a.n. : my chris best girl dad agenda is going strong!!!!!! my second fic for the winter falls collab with my writer xi hehe i hope you will all enjoy reading!! feedback is highly appreciated 🤍 the song chris will write for sowon is light by sleeping at last, highly recommend listening to it!!

winter falls masterlist.

“I can’t believe you’re making me do this.”

“Shh, daddy smile.”

Soft murmurs linger just beyond your door, elusive words that could easily be dismissed as figments of your imagination. However, any doubt in your mind dissipates with three resounding knocks, jolting you from your momentary contemplation.

A reluctant groan escapes you as you glance down at your attire—a loosely hanging oversized hoodie, a testament to the numerous times it has been tugged down, and a pair of pajama pants whose matching top has mysteriously vanished. Clearly, you don't feel presentable enough to welcome anyone at this late hour. So, you remain motionless, futilely lowering the TV volume in hopes that whoever's behind the door will just continue with their night. But the knocks persist against your wish, so, with a resigned sigh, you rise from your seat, your blanket cascading to the ground in a soft descent.

“What–” the words dissolve in your mouth like a sweet nectar as you open the door, your eyes beholding no one in your periphery. A slight tug at your pants draws your attention downward, only to find the most adorable child your eyes have ever laid on. She's clad in Rapunzel-themed pajamas, wolf slippers bumping into your plain ones, and, to your surprise, a whisk cradled in her small hand.

“Hey there,” your voice softens as you crouch to meet her warm gaze. You find an innocent happiness gleaming in her eyes, a radiant spark shining even beneath the corridor's muted light. Two dimples adorn her cheeks as she smiles at you.

“Hi, my dad wants to tell you something,” she says, pointing with her whisk to the very end of the hallway. You crane your neck, trying to catch a glimpse of the elusive figure.

“Your dad?”

“Mm. He’s a bit shy, that’s why he’s hiding,” she confides in a whisper. But, despite her earnest attempt, her words still resound loudly in the vacant space, causing giggles to spill out of your mouth.

“And you aren’t shy?” you inquire, tilting your head.

“Nu-uh,” she shakes her head with conviction as someone emerges behind her. She instinctively wraps an arm around their leg, nestling her cheek against their thigh.

She isn't shy because she feels protected.

You rise from your place, eyes locking with a familiar shade of brown. Only these hold a mesmerizing quality to them making your very breath catch in your throat. Kindness pours from his gaze as it travels down your face, a sentiment that further materializes as delicate smile lines stitch around the corner of his eyes.

He’s beautiful.

Your eyes trail down to two pairs of dimples, mirroring the ones of his daughter perfectly. She is his living portrait, sharing his eyes, lips, and smile. Yet, his cheeks blush in a hue she does not possess, while his left hand fiddles with his earlobe, in an unspoken, timid gesture. For some odd reason, it pierces straight through your heart.

“Sorry for bothering you,” a smooth Australian accent rolls off his tongue, similar to rich butter spread on warm bread- it infuses your being with tingles pulsating from the base of your toes. You suddenly no longer miss your blanket.

“I'm your next-door neighbor. We were just making cookies and we realized we actually don’t have flour,” he explains, a bashful smile imprinted onto his lips.

“You didn’t check beforehand?” you ask, laughter tinting your voice.

“I forgot,” he admits, but his tone sounds almost sad as if beating himself over it. A fleeting shadow veils his face briefly, dissipating like a passing cloud grazing the sun.

“Can we borrow some from you? I told Sowon that we could go to the store but she said it’s too cold out,” he asks, his hand resting on his daughter’s shoulder soothingly.

“It is too cold out,” you agree with a frown, looking down at Sowon to which she smiles brightly, happy to have your support.

“And of course, I'll bring you flour. Don’t worry about it. Do you want to come in meanwhile?”

“It's okay, we'll wait here. Don’t want to intrude.”

“Thank you!” Sowon beams, her missing tooth in full display.

“Yeah, thank you so much…” he trails out, tilting his head as if to silently inquire about your name.

“Yn. And you?”

“Chris.”

“Nice to meet you, Chris,” you smile, shaking his extended hand. His fingers wrap around your palm, and it feels as if you’re grasping thunder, crackling with an electricity that your eyes can’t behold, yet your soul does, suddenly illuminated from within.

Your smile grows as you detach yourself from his hold, before bending forward to bop Sowon’s nose. “And nice to meet you too Rapunzel.”

Your words make her hide behind her father’s leg, peeking out slightly to look at you.

“See I'm not the only one who gets shy,” Chan chuckles, and Sowon whines in complaint, further burying her face in her dad’s grey sweatpants.

Adorable, so much it stirs a long-forgotten melancholy within your being.

“She gets a pass, she's still young, right Sowon?”

“Are you calling me old then?” Chan fakes outrage, bringing one hand to his chest while the other cradles Sowon’s back.

“Old enough to forget about flour,” you wink and he laughs, looking down at your slippers.

“Touché.”

A few minutes go by before you come back, a recipient full of flour in your hands. The sight before you makes you pause in your tracks– Chris, leaning against the wall, Sowon propped on his hip, her arms loosely hanging around his neck, her eyes closed.

“Did she…” you whisper and he turns to you.

“Yeah, fell asleep,” he smiles fondly, tucking a few strands of her hair behind the curve of her ear. “She’ll be disappointed when she wakes up to no cookies. She wanted us to have a baking holiday tradition.”

“You don’t know how to make them?”

“No, I was counting on a six-year-old to assist me,” he chuckles quietly, prompting a snort from you.

“Well, keep the flour, in case you need it again.”

“Thank you, Yn,” he grins, the smile taking over his entire face, grabbing the recipient from you.

“You’re welcome Chris,” you say, as you both linger around the door still, not making any attempt to move.

Your eyes refuse to peel away from his, as if there were a magnetic force drawing you to him, telling you that your gaze belonged to rest on him.

“Uhm,” he clears his throat, leaning away from the wall. “I'll get going.”

“Yeah, sleep well, Chris.”

“Thank you,” he smiles before turning around.

An idea brews in your head, a germ sprouted by the clear adoration in which Sowon gazed at her dad, and the disappointment in his face as he said he would no longer be making cookies. Had you wished to dig a little deeper, you would’ve also found a long-buried feeling of a little girl who would have loved holiday traditions as well. You close the door before heading straight to your kitchen.

One hour later

You knock softly on Chris’ door, fidgeting from one foot to another. You almost retract back to your apartment after your fourth knock, when the door finally opens, Chris coming into your line of sight.

“Hi,” you greet, hands behind your back.

“Hey,” he smiles, leaning his arm on the doorway, right above your head. He tilts his head to the side, silently wondering what you want. The words dissolve in your mouth at the way his eyes fixate on you as if trying to peer behind your irises onto your mind.

“Cookies,” you bring the plate before him, as his eyes grow wide, an incredulous smile drawn on his lips.

“You made them?”

“Yeah, didn't want Sowon to be disappointed,” you shrug and his eyes grow wild, racking all over your face in disbelief.

“You didn't have to do this,” he finally says, tone softening, syllables ringing like a sweet sonnet in your ears.

“I know. I wanted to. and I'm a baker so making cookies comes easily to me, don't worry about it,” you shrug sheepishly, biting your lower lip slightly. You felt scrutinized by him in ways you haven't felt before.

“Thank you, Yn, I don’t even know what to say,” he says, his smile resembling a beam of light. A surge of pride courses through you at managing to bring it forth.

“No need to say anything. I hope I didn't wake you up,” you smile sheepishly and he shakes his head.

“No, I- I was working in my studio and Sowon is asleep. It's just us two. Always has been,” he adds, tone slightly changing, air growing heavier between you both. It's just them two.

“Studio?” you inquire, hoping to dispel the tension latching around you both.

“I'm a music producer,” he clarifies. “I made a studio here so I could stay the night with Sowon.”

“I'm sure she appreciates that,” you say as you hand the plate to him. His fingertips brush against your own, and a slight electricity courses through you at the touch, the hallway suddenly brighter from the fireworks ricocheting off of you both.

“I…. I'll get going.”

“Yeah, yeah, don't want to take more of your time.”

“I'll see you around.”

“Yeah, I'll see you,” he says, words not ringing carelessly into the air, sounding more like a promise. He'll see you, he'll make sure of it.

ii.

“Can you wait!” a voice echoes near the building entrance, and you prevent the elevator doors from closing as hurried steps near you.

You recognize the voice easily by the light tingles running down your spine, the Australian accent shooting straight through your heart. Its owner materializes, Chris— leather jacket hugging his muscles snuggly, black t-shirt tucked into a pair of blue jeans, cap nestled on his head, rebellious strands of ebony hair peeking behind it.

You find the breath knocked out of you once again at his sight. He's beautiful, even more so in broad daylight, where every feature of his comes to life, beckoning, demanding your sole attention.

“Hey, Yn,” he smiles in delight, uttering your name in a familiarity that infuses your being with warmth. Even though you've only talked once, two days ago.

“Hey, Chris,” you greet back, pressing the fourth elevator button again. you face the mirror to find Chris already looking at you, his eyes instantly locking with yours.

“The cookies were good,” he smiles softly and you grin. “I'm glad you think so.”

“Where is your bakery? I need to taste more of your baking.”

The butterflies in your stomach tone down at his words, your attraction momentarily forgotten as gratitude coats your heart instead.

“I can text you the address?” you propose.

“Yeah, here,” he takes out his phone, a picture of him and Sowon set as his lock screen— their cheeks are pressed tightly to one another, messily done eyeliner on both their eyes. you giggle to yourself as you grab the device.

“Cute picture,” you muse and he brings an arm to his neck, scratching the side of it timidly.

“She insists on trying her makeup on me.”

“She makes you look better,” you giggle and he rolls his eyes, tongue poking against his cheek.

“She wants to become a stylist,” he explains, as the elevator doors open. He lets you out first, arm stretched forward.

“I find her passion really cute so I buy her anything she asks for,” he shrugs and you chuckle, pointing to the bag of pink ribbons he is carrying.

“Let me guess, she wants to use these on you?”

“Yeah. She also said that I quote ‘need to learn new hairstyles because her friends always come to class with intricate braids, and she can't go to class with a simple one.’” He repeats, tone growing slightly high-pitched as he mimics his daughter's words. Yet, the fond smile on his face is louder, screaming of his love for her.

“She has you wrapped around your finger,” you muse, leaning against your door. The keys in your bag are long forgotten.

“She can be very scary for such a little girl.”

“What does she threaten you with?” you ask, feigning horror.

“No goodnight kisses,” he whispers, as if scared she'd hear him beyond the wooden door.

“Torture,” you gasp, placing your hand on his shoulder reassuringly. Yet, the smiles slip out of your face instantly. Was it normal for clothes to dissolve under your touch, layers of cotton and leather doing nothing to stop the warmth of his skin from seeping through you? Was it normal to be so affected by such an innocent touch?

“Uhm,” you clear your throat, “I can help you. with her hair, I mean.”

“You don't have to. I already took too much from your time with the cookies,” he seems truly apologetic, his tone sobering as if despising others doing things for him. You see yourself in him, in the way he wants to carry the world’s burden on his shoulders. It is a reflection you wish to mend.

“I don't mind, I remember feeling jealous of the other girls in my school so I made myself learn all the braids.”

And then you see his gratefulness, the twinkle in his eyes that you can only grasp for a millisecond before they disappear into moon crescents. Happiness looks grand on him, overtaking his entire face, brightening his features with a glow too ethereal to be of mankind, as if they were carved to translate joy. You find yourself willing to give up more of your time to see it.

“Thank you,” he breathes out and you nod, a grin taking over your face as well.

“You’re welcome. Let me just change my clothes.”

☃︎⋆꙳•❅

“And then, you pull the right strand all over to the middle one. Then you repeat, this way the ribbon is braided into the hair,” you explain to a very concentrated Chris, his eyebrows furrowed as he follows your movements.

“It looks easy when you do it,” he frowns and you giggle, handing the mirror to Sowon so she'd be able to look at her hair.

“Do you like it,” you ask, a tad apprehensive and she beams, dimples that almost swallow her chubby cheeks surging forth.

“Pretty!” she exclaims and you giggle, bopping her nose. “You are pretty.”

“And you are pretty too. right, daddy?”

You turn back to find Chris watching you, a smile so fond on his face that it renders your insides putty, coats your cheek in the palest shade of pink.

“Very much so,” he says, tone quieter, his eyes never leaving yours.

Sowon suddenly climbs on her dad’s lap, star and moon stickers in hand. She places them all over his face, and he sits there diligently, arms wrapped around her midriff so she won't slip away. Every carefully placed sticker is punctuated by a soft gasp from him and a small giggle from her. You could feel the love radiating from both of them, a feeling so strong it made your heart twist in your chest.

Were there red neon exits you weren’t aware of in your being? Ones through which love trickled away all these years ago? Were the spaces between your fingers carved to hold someone’s hand, or to make everything you've ever wanted slip from your grasp?

“What do you think?” Sowon startles you and you force a smile on your face, willing the heaviness in your heart to dissipate. There were questions you'd never find the answers to, you had to make peace with that.

“I love it!” you grin and Sowon nods, satisfied. You look down at your lap as Chris fixates his eyes on you, a worried crease growing between his eyebrows.

“Fun is over, you need to do your homework, Miss Bang,” he scolds and you snort, as Sowon rolls her eyes slightly.

“Did you just roll your eyes at me?” he fakes offense and you giggle as Sowon huffs slightly. “Dad, I told you I have no homework. I already did it with uncle Felix.”

“Oh, right,” he deflates slightly before brightening up once again, “then, you should put away all these hairbrushes and ribbons, okay?”

“Will you watch a movie later with me?”

“Of course, baby.”

“Okay then,” she grins, quickly standing up to start putting away her things. you smile, getting up your turn to leave. Chris understands and stands with you on cue.

“You can stay and watch the movie with us.”

“It's okay, I have some things to work on,” you turn around, but then you feel his fingers wrapping around your wrist, stopping you in your tracks.

“Are you okay?” he asks, hand still burning straight through your skin, igniting a million nerve ends with a simple touch. You avoid his eyes, looking down at the ground. It seems to be response enough for him.

“We’re conditioned to say yes even when we aren’t, right?” he speaks softly, his words travel through your veins in a rapid course against the current of your blood— which one will reach your heart first and flood it?

Your facade cracks. His voice wins.

“So, you don't have to reply now,” his thumb swipes once across your pulse. “But I'll be here if you ever wish to tell the truth.”

iii.

You’ve grown exceptionally fond of Chris in the span of mere months, more than you would like to admit to yourself. It was an easy task, as natural as the current of a waterfall. Yet, you did not plan for it, for a new emotion to settle on top of your lungs, to make you more aware of your heart and how it beats, slightly faster, around Chris. But it happened serendipitously, against all odds, when he knocked on your door at 10 p.m. asking for salt.

“Should I start buying groceries for you?” you joked, and it took Chris a millisecond longer to respond, his gaze wandering across your face, as if discovering the world’s eighth wonder, hidden in plain sight all these years.

“For my defense, I have a daughter that likes experimenting with cooking,” he smiled, and you raised an eyebrow at him.

“Just with salt?”

“She added four teaspoons of it in an omelet. Then forced me to eat it because I always tell her food shouldn't go to waste,” he shudders at the memory and you chuckle loudly.

Chris knocks on the doors of your heart, once.

It happened when you spotted a cockroach the size of your palm on your bedroom wall. You would’ve killed it, you were going to, except it started flying towards you and you let out a loud shriek you didn’t know your vocal chords were capable of conjuring. So, you called Chris.

“Can you please come over,” you murmured, crouching near the entrance door, a pair of slippers in your hand.

“Why are you whispering? are you okay?” he sounded worried, and you heard the turning of a lock as he opened the door to his apartment. He didn’t ask questions, instantly coming to your aid. A sudden urge to weep filled your being at his gesture.

“There is a cockroach. a flying one,” you precised, horror dripping from your tongue and his laugh flooded your ear, tiny squeaks that made your hold on the slipper grow limp.

“I'm from Australia,” he knocked on your door, and you stood up promptly. “I've seen worse,” he said once you finally opened it, his eyes softening incredibly when they met yours.

He did kill the cockroach, by spraying your insect repellent enough times to asphyxiate you too. “I don't think I can sleep in there tonight,” you sighed, gulping down ice cold water, “why does it feel like we went through war?”

“We? You were behind my back all the time.”

“I was cheering you on, from afar. Spiritually.”

“I can’t believe a cockroach scares you this much.”

“You literally screamed when it flied towards you too.”

“I didn't scream! I made a very manly, non-terrified sound.”

“Mm, sure,” you giggled, voice softening at the blushing of the tip of his ears. Chris didn't have to force the door down to your heart, you willingly opened it for him.

And after that, it was a race to find the silliest excuses to see one another. Chris suddenly taking up an inkling for baking, you manifesting a newfound interest in music, Sowon needing her makeup done for a dance, Chris visiting you in your bakery, Sowon craving your cookies and you teaching her the recipe, Chris knocking on your door and you knocking on his. The same giddy smiles on your faces as you usher each other in. And it always, always ending with a movie night.

“Let's watch Tangled,” Sowon exclaims, clapping her hands excitedly.

“Baby, we watched this movie for the past…” he looks at you for support. “Three,” you whisper, a bashful smile on your face. “Yeah, for the past three movie nights,” he whines slightly.

“But I love it,” she says, her pout morphing into a huge grin. “Again! Again! Again!”

“Fine,” he concedes, mouthing “save me,” from afar to you. You giggle softly while Sowon cozies up to your side, your arm naturally draping across her body while her legs stretch atop Chris’ lap, naturally, as if having you both by her side was the way things have always been. The only reality she’s ever known.

It is a fleeting fifty minutes as the three of you watch the movie, Sowon reciting excitedly the lines that she seems to remember. But then the quiet is replaced by her soft snores, her body growing light against you.

“She fell asleep,” you whisper, tapping Chris’ shoulder to catch his attention. He tilts his head to the side, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips as his eyes land on his daughter.

“I'm sorry you have to watch the same movie every time,” he says apologetically and you shake your head.

“I don't mind. Tangled is a good movie.”

“Are you here just because of the movie?” he smiles, dimples peeking through. The juxtaposition between the weight of his words and the soft expression on his face makes a buzzing warmth spread through you. He’s cold and hot, in and out, yours but not.

“What do you want me to be here for?” you throw back, squeezing his shoulder slightly.

“The company.”

“I do find Sowon entertaining.”

“Just her?” he pouts and you giggle, tipping your head back.

“And you too, I suppose, by extension.”

“By extension, mm,” he hums, as he gathers Sowon in his arms, freeing her from your hold. “Then I guess I shouldn't come visit you in your bakery anymore. Since you only enjoy my presence by extension.”

“So sassy,” you shout-whisper as you both walk to Sowon's bedroom, “I like your company too, idiot.”

“Yeah?” he turns back to look at you, tone a tad bit too hopeful. He doesn’t care that he sounds eager for your approval, not when he feels as if he can only truly breathe when you're near.

“Yeah, Chris, I really do,” you speak earnestly, and Chris bites his lower lip slightly, suddenly overwhelmed by the gentleness of your tone. Your eyes follow his action instantly.

He lowers Sowon gently onto the bed and she stirs awake, blinking repeatedly at the both of you. “Yn,” she calls out quietly once her eyes land on yours and you kneel before her bed. Chris watches from the door entrance as Sowon cups her hand near your ear, before whispering something to you. He notices your body stiffening, your gaze fleeting to him before you relax, pressing a kiss to her cheek.

He wishes he could freeze time, stitch this moment into his eyelids until it is the only thing he sees when he goes to sleep. Loneliness is too big of an enemy for one person to fight off, but it seems more harmless when you are near.

Chris sees you right here, every night, not forcing your place into his family, but falling seamlessly into place. Perhaps you were the missing piece that’ll soothe the burn in his heart. Perhaps he’d let you in, even as fear paralyzes his being at the mere thought of asking you to stay.

One week later.

You've grown used to the knocks on your door at ungodly hours of the night, Chris seeking your company each time you both fail to fall asleep. Except this time, there is a chilling premonition in your heart as you walk to your home’s entrance, anxiety coiling like a steel ball in your throat.

"What’s wrong?" you ask upon opening the door, locking eyes with Chris's bloodshot gaze.

“Sowon,” he heaves, tone laden with fear, so different from how he usually pronounces her name. The syllables pierce through your heart like an arrowhead dipped in alarm.

"Sowon?" you question, peering behind him to his slightly ajar apartment door.

"Yes, she has a high fever, and it won’t come down. I tried everything, and I-I don’t know what to do anymore. She’s shaking, but I can’t—" He trembles, his quivers akin to delicate chinaware on the precipice of an earthquake, poised to shatter at your feet. You'd plunge to the ground first, anything to soften his impending collapse.

“It’s okay,” you soothe, your voice soft as you grasp his wrist. “Let’s go see her, okay?”

“It's her first time being this sick,” he whispers, clearly distraught, one hand running through his freshly dyed blonde hair.

“It's okay. Don’t panic, it happens. Did you give her medicine?”

“Yes, a few minutes ago,” he replies as you guide him towards her room.

“Good, it'll start working soon,” you reassure, opening the door and crouching before Sowon.

“Hey, Rapunzel," you coo softly, and Sowon attempts to muster a smile. Her cheeks flush, eyes dim like withered petals.

“How are you feeling?” you ask, pressing your hand to her feverish forehead. You cast a wary glance at Chan, who's anxiously biting his thumb.

“Cold,” she whispers, and you nod, peeling off her blanket. “I know you are, but you have a high fever. We need to let it cool down, okay?”

“I-I’m shaking,” Sowon sighs, lower lip protruding and trembling, both from the iciness clawing at her frail being, and the tears welling in her waterline, like a cup on the brink of overflowing.

“Shh, don't cry. It will pass, it's okay,” you murmur soothingly, cradling her face on your lap, gently moving damp strands of her hair behind her ear.

"Chris, can you bring me a towel and a bowl with cold water?" you ask softly, and the man startles, painfully peeling his eyes away from his daughter, as if doing so would consign her to a dark fate.

"Sure. Sure," he repeats, scurrying out of the room.

Sowon buries her cheek in your thigh, small hands clinging tightly to yours. You tie her hair up into a loose bun as Chan hurriedly comes back, a bassinet in his hand.

"Thank you," you smile, as he kneels beside the bed, his hand resting on Someone's knee gently.

“Hey sweetheart,” he coos softly, and Sowon blinks at him, light spilling over her face.

“Hey daddy,” she replies as you dip the towel into the water, before squeezing the fabric to remove any liquid excess.

“You're being so strong. I love you so much my pretty girl,” he says, bringing her small hand to rest upon his cheek, bestowing a gentle kiss on her palm.

The moment feels so intimate, so tender, that you almost feel like an intruder. You imagine this is what thorns on roses must feel like, so out of place amid delicate petals and stems.

“I love you too,” she grins, and you remain silent, diligently wiping her face and neck with the dampened towel. You soon lose track of the number of times you've repeated this motion, but Sowon’s eyes are now closed and her body is no longer trembling.

You rest your palm upon her forehead, a sigh of relief escaping your body as you realize that her fever has gone down noticeably- the medicine finally taking effect.

“It's better now,” you smile reassuringly and Chris’s eyes widen, irises shaking as he looks back to his daughter.

“Will she be okay?”

“She will be. She just needs to sleep a bit.”

“Okay, thank you.”

“Can we prepare her something to eat meanwhile?”

“Mm,” he absentmindedly nods, his fingers trailing down Sowon’s features delicately, resting upon her round cheeks.

"She looks just like you," you softly smile.

"I know," he admits, not with pride but in surrender, as if his reflection was nothing but a cursed fate. His voice tastes like ocean water, salty, acid, suffocating.

“Chris…” you trail off and he shakes his head, abruptly standing up.

“Let's make her chicken noodle soup. She loves it,” he says and you nod. A ticking bomb resides in his veins, devoid of a countdown, leaving you unsure of when he'll finally explode.

You get your answer soon after—it takes two minutes and thirty-three seconds for the first tear to roll down Chris’s cheek. You spot it as you retrieve carrots from the fridge, averting your gaze as Chan angrily wipes it away.

A few seconds later, five tears follow the same agonizing trail, and now the knife is shaking in Chris’s hands. He squeezes his eyes shut as if frustrated by his pain, by the emotions escaping through the cracks in his heart.

You stay silent, bringing the water to a simmer.

The clank of metal against the counter snaps your attention, and you see Chris with his head lowered down, his hands tightly clutching the counter.

Your tongue moves before you can order it to speak.

"Chris," you call out, your hand finding its place on his back. An ugly sob escapes his lips, a raw cry unearthed from the depths of the soil where he buried his feelings, never allowing himself the grace of grieving, then moving on.

“I'm a horrible father,” he utters so brokenly as if this idea were cemented into his head, woven into every thought of himself—an adjective that lingers like a phantom each time Sowon calls him dad.

“You're not, what are you saying?” you gently turn him around so he'd face you. But his eyes remain downcast, as if ashamed to meet your gaze.

“I didn't know what to do. I panicked. I-I wasn't enough to help her.”

“It's okay, you can't know everything, you are trying your best-”

“No, no, no, it's not just about this!” he snaps, despair clinging to his eyes as he finally looks at you. “It’s hard. It’s so hard to be here alone, and I- I try but it's not enough, I can't do everything and I'm not a good enough parent for her, there will a-always be something missing.”

“You're wrong,” you say but he shakes his head in disagreement. “Chris, you're wrong,” you cradle his face, taking you both by surprise. Your thumb swipes gently underneath the skin of his eyes, wiping his cascading tears.

“You love Sowon. And she can feel it, she can see it, she can hear it. Everyone can. A parent can't be perfect, but they should love. And you love her.”

“What if I can't even love her enough for a father? How will I ever fill the role of two parents?” he's leaning onto your palm, hanging onto your every word. You'd sit for hours and untangle every thread of his mind if you have to, until you single out the infested one and burn it away.

“She loves you Chris. She looks at you as if you hang every star in the sky. As if you're responsible for every good thing that happens in our world. She loves you and you love her.”

You gaze up at the ceiling, tears welling in your eyes. Chan notices the subtle tremble in your hand against his cheek.

“If I had someone who loved me as much as you love Sowon when I was a child, I would've turned out so differently,” you smile bitterly, swallowing down the lump in your throat.

“You won't be a perfect dad. You can't be. But she won't grow up with a throbbing heart, pulsating because of a void that cannot be filled. Her veins won't be poisoned by hate and abandonment. Because she knows what it's like to be loved,” you pause, as your voice breaks, traitorous tears rolling down your cheeks. “To be cared for.”

Your eyes hold his in a silent conversation, secretly telling him what your tongue cannot speak of— Sowon, an untarnished blossom, won't unfurl into a solitary flower the way you did.

“I'm sorry,” he whispers after a while, eyes softening in understanding. His knuckles brush gently against your cheek.

“Why are you apologizing?”

“So you'd find a reason within you to forgive,” he says, as he leans forward to press a tender kiss on your forehead. And somehow it feels more intimate than any way you've been touched before.

Five days later.

chris [11:32 p.m.]: you up?

yn [11:32 p.m.]: i just got bad flashbacks to my college years

chris [11:33 p.m.]: ajaksjsbsbbs

chris [11:33 p.m.]: i didn’t mean it like that ㅠㅠ

chris [11:33 p.m.]: wanna come over? i'm in the studio but im not feeling inspired

yn [11:34 p.m.]: and how will i help?

chris [11:34 p.m.]: i find your presence inspiring

You don’t reply, instead putting on your slippers and walking over to his apartment. He opens the door before you even have the chance to knock.

“What are you working on?” you ask once you’re settled atop his chair, spinning around slightly. He looks down at the pillow on his lap, lightly plucking its pink fur. “A song for Sowon,” he admits softly and your eyes grow a little wide.

“That is so sweet,” you pout, inching closer to him. “How is it going?”

“I've finished the melody and now I'm working on the lyrics. There is just.. so much i want to tell her, i'm unsure if ill be able to express it well.”

“Can I read what you wrote?”

“Yeah. Yeah, sure,” he searches through his papers. “Here.”

May these words be the first to find your ears

The world is brighter than the sun now that you're here

I'll give you everything I have

I'll teach you everything I know

I promise I'll do better

I will soften every edge

I'll hold the world to its best

And I'll do better

Tears spring to your eyes unexpectedly, you try to stop their flow but they fall upon the paper, splattering like a broken mosaic, mimicking the brokenness of your own heart.

“I'm sorry,” you spin around, your back to him as you attempt to dry your tears, and yet they show no desire to stop. Chris is in your heart and he’s kicking every other emotion out, forcing you to make amends with your sadness, the one you buried years, years ago.

Chris gently grabs the back of the chair, pulling you back to him before spinning your chair once again until you are facing him. You bury your face in your hands and his rests reassuringly on your knee, squeezing it slightly. “Is it so bad it made you sob?”

“Shut up, you know this isn’t the case.”

His hand delicately traces up your arm, gently lifting your fingers from your face. He kneels before you, his thumb tenderly wiping away the traces of tears on your cheeks.

“Talk to me?”

“It's so beautiful, so warm, so loving. Everything a parent should think of their child,” a traitorous hiccup escapes your lips. “Everything my parents never felt for me.”

Chris’ mouth morphs into a pout, eyebrows scrunching tightly. You shake your head, smoothing down the worried crease between his eyes.

“I don't feel sad over things I can't control and I love myself enough now to compensate for what I didn't have, but sometimes-'' your voice breaks, Chan’s hold on your hands tightens. “It stings to remember what could’ve been.”

Stings was an understatement, it is rather a pulsating void, throbbing in ache every day, calling out for its missing piece. How can I fill you with what was lost when it chose to walk away?

“Come here,” he whispers, coaxing you to your feet, his arms enveloping your body as he guides your head to the crook of his neck. His body runs warm, the material of his sweatshirt soft, and he smells nice too, the contours of his muscles tailor-made to complement the ridges of your own.

“You grew up well, Yn. You did well.”

You clutch his shirt, tightening your grip as you fist the fabric in your palm. He's patting your back, and time slows down to match the rhythm of his touch.

“Love can be hard, I know. Especially when the people who left are the ones supposed to be staying.”

He understands, more than anyone you know. He missed out on a different kind of love too, two facets of the same coin.

“You’re doing well too, Chris. You shouldn’t doubt yourself as much,” your arms trail up to encircle his neck, as his nose tickles your hair. You're the one hugging him now. “Sowon is really smart, she told me that she loves you a lot. She can feel it. She sees everything you do for her.”

“Is that what she told you that movie night?”

“Partly,” you whisper, and Chris leans away slightly, his warm palms still pressed to your waist, holding you close.

“What else did she tell you?” he asks, curiosity barely hidden in his tone.

You pause for a while, eyes going over the entire room before finally locking on him.

“She thanked me, said that I make you smile more.” You suck in a deep breath, gathering your courage. “Do I?”

“There are small lines that don’t show on my face until you're near.”

“Oh.” That is the only coherent response you can formulate, and Chris giggles, a tiny squeak escaping his lips in a huff. “Cute,” he murmurs, planting a tender kiss on your temple. His lips linger, holding onto the moment a beat longer than necessary, causing your eyes to close in delight. Both of you find yourselves blushing as he leans away, a shared warmth coloring the space between you.

“Sorry, didn't mean to make the mood somber,” you say sheepishly as you sit back down, eyeing Chris’s laptop. “I wanna hear this,” you quickly point to a random track on his screen before he can reply, hoping to make the sadness flee away.

“This one? It’s not really good, let's listen to something else,” his rambling and eagerness to change the track pique your curiosity and you quickly click on the song before he can stop you.

connected.mp3 starts playing.

Sultry beats inundate your ears, weaving through your veins and whisking you away to the pulsating rhythm of a dance club. You knew Chris produced good music, yet you never fathomed that his voice could be so luxuriously rich, cascading over you like molten wax. You feel a blush rise to your cheeks at the suggestive lyrics, the innuendos peeking behind every word. And then, a sudden jealousy claws at your heart, at the thought of Chris hunched in his studio, fantasizing about connecting with someone who isn’t you.

You wished to be the only one Chris liked.

“It’s a- a demo for one of my clients,” he explains through a stutter once the song is done, and you nod meekly, willing your body’s temperature to go down, for the possessivity crinkling in you to fizzle out.

So, you put on your best taunting smirk.

“I know you want me don’t crumble.. No need to be desperate we’re just getting started,” you sing-song back. “You were feeling so cocky when you wrote this, right?” you grin, inching your chair closer to his. “Feeling yourself, Mr. Bang?”

He chuckles with a hint of annoyance, running his tongue along the expanse of his lower lip. Leaning back into his chair, he casually spreads his legs a bit wider, a gesture that suddenly leaves you feeling dizzy, on him.

“It’s cute how affected you seem by it,” he throws nonchalantly, crossing his arms before his chest.

“I'm not,” you smile, although your erratic heartbeat spoke of a different tale, you just didn't need to voice it to him. “I think you were the one getting all hot and bothered in your studio,” you stand between his legs, hovering over him as he leans back fully in his chair.

“I was thinking of a pretty girl.”

“Yeah?”

“Mm,” he suddenly grabs your waist, you feel like your entire body is ablaze. “The prettiest.”

"Who is she?" you exhale, teetering on the edge of crashing your lips onto his, like an incoherent love poem, hastily scrambled on a notebook in a fit of anger.

“y–” The door suddenly opens, Sowon’s small frame standing by the door, she’s rubbing her eyes tiredly, her chick plushie dangling from her hand (a gift from her uncle Felix as she explained to you). You quickly scramble away from Chris as he clears his throat loudly.

“Daddy, I can't sleep,” she says faintly, a tiny pout drawn on her lips, and you can see Chris physically melt at her words, at the way she paddles to his chair, and tries her best to climb up his legs. She fails to do so, so he quickly scopes her up his arms until she’s buried in his hold. Her small hands wound up around his neck, and he tenderly pats down her hair, his gaze never wavering from her frame.

“Want me to sing to you, sweetheart?”

“Yes,” she whispers, before making grabby hands at you, your heart softens like clay dough as you scoot closer, enclosing her fingers in your hold.

“Sleep well, Sowonnie,” you whisper.

“Can’t you stay with us?” she asks and you feel your blood freeze in your veins, your heart skipping three beats at once.

To stay. What a frightening concept. Even more scary when you realize that you aren’t opposed to it.

You yearn to stay, for the first time in years, you wish you could.

You swallow the growing lump in your throat, before smiling reassuringly. “I'll stay till you fall asleep.”

Conditions, it is the way it has always been for you. staying till you’re no longer useful, staying till you're no longer wanted. Staying, but always with a time limit, always with an expiration date.

iv.

You’re avoiding him.

Chris knows you are, since you no longer come over to his house, claiming that you’re tired, or that you have an important order to bake for the next day. He would have believed you had he not seen you only once in the past three weeks.

Those were excuses, and each one of them weighed heavily on Chris’ heart, on his home too, his studio particularly, the one that got used to the sound of your laugh.

He misses you. He never thought he’d miss someone again, craving you presence as if every breath leaving his body depended on you. He wasn’t a stranger to intimacy, fleeting hookups every now and then. Strangers invited him to their bed, knowing what they were signing up for– one night of pleasure, never to be seen again, their faces blurring into an indistinct mass in his mind, like an impressionist painting where no features stand out. Yet, with you, every detail is etched in his memory.

He could pick you out of a crowded room, recognize the delicate curve of your neck, the fullness of your lips, and the way your nose scrunches when you smile.

He could draw the moles scattered on your body from memory alone, recognize your scent from miles away– your cotton shampoo and the specific laundry detergent you love to use and a hint of vanilla that never truly leaves you.

He’d remember the curve of your lashes and the cascading of your hair, the airy giggles you leave across like a trail for him to follow everywhere, and your eyes– the way they gazed at him, softening slightly around the edges, shining brightly as if crafted from stardust, the way they softened even more when you looked at Sowon, voice growing slightly high pitched as you listened to his daughter’s rambles.

How did you manage to make his home yours without ever living in it?

“Dad?” Sowon calls out and he snaps his head up, locking eyes with his little girl. She’s sitting on a high stool, munching on her pizza, a pensive look on her face.

“Yes, sweetheart?” he asks, walking over to her side.

“Where is Ynnie?” she asks in a small voice and he freezes, mulling over his response. He settles for the truth.

“I don't know, baby.”

“Does she not want to play with me anymore?” Sowon whispers, and he doesn’t remember his daughter ever being this tentative about voicing a question.

“No!” he's quick to reassure, cradling Sowon’s face between his much larger hands. “Of course not baby she loves you a lot.”

“Okay…” she nods, a small pout drawn on her lips still. Chris senses his heart physically crack in his chest.

“Do you wanna work in the studio with me?” he says in a joyful tone, and she instantly cheers up, the twinkle in her eyes found again. “Yes!”

“Finish your food first, okay Wonnie?”

“Okay!”

In Chris's life, regrets have been scarce, and certainly not in the form of Sowon, his beacon of hope, as he named her. Having her was beholding a sun wherever he went. However, a fear lingers, a whisper in his heart, suggesting that letting you go might be his one true regret.

So when his daughter falls asleep, he knocks on your door once again. He's suddenly transported into that cold night, months ago, where he asked you for flour. Had he known you were behind it he would’ve knocked much sooner.

“Hi,” you greet softly once you open the door. He takes a step forward, his wolf slippers matching with Sowon’s bump into your plain ones. You avert your gaze, finding anything but him to fixate on.

“You're avoiding me,” he says matter-of-factly, voice soft, resigning to you.

“I'm not,” you contradict, even as your eyes remain on the ground. He finds himself missing the color of your irises.

"Look at me, hm?" he implores, and you stay rooted in place. A soft sigh escapes him as he cradles your right cheek with his warm hand, his thumb gently sweeping across your cheekbone. "Yn, please, I want to look at you."

Maybe it is the pleading tone of his voice or the way his thumb tenderly grazes your skin, but something about Chris makes your resolve unravel, threads of fear unknotting before your eyes. So, you finally look at him. An exhale of relief escapes him.

And then you speak.

“You asked me if I was okay, and I didn't reply, back then,” you say, leaning your head further against his palm as tears well up in your waterline. “Do you still want to know my answer?”

“Of course, always.”

“I'm happy. With you, with sowon. I feel this warmth that I have never known before when I'm with you. It was almost easy to forget I've known you during winter,” you chuckle dryly, “but it is all an illusion, I lie to myself thinking I could stay, I… I can't, I-“

“What if I ask you to stay?” he brings your hand to his heart, where it beats erratically, pulse seeping through your skin.

He’s as scared as you are.

“Chris…”

“What if I told you, Yn, please stay with me,” he breathes out, guiding your hand to gently cup his cheek. “Would you? Would you stay?”

“I'm terrified,” you whisper, as he tilts his head, bestowing a tender kiss on your palm.

“I know, so am I. But, you make me believe that even my bruised parts are worthy of love.”

He wins, before years of skeletons and piled up doubts, he wins.

“Okay.”

“Okay?”

“I'm staying.”

“You are?”

“I am,” you giggle lightly and he staggers back, the sun pouring into his smile.

“Um, wow, okay. Thank you for staying,” his voice sounds airy, happiness floating in his tone, and you find it contagious, imprinting into your own.

“Thank you for asking me to stay.”

“You made it less daunting,” he pats your head, smoothing your hair down. “I missed you.”

“I missed you too.”

He giggles in response and you can't help but mirror the sound. “Why are you so nervous?”

“Whaaat? I'm not,” his tone grows high-pitched and you roll your eyes amusedly.

“What happened to connected Chris?”

“He is flustered by the girl he wrote about.”

Your cheeks tint red as he places a hand above your head, caging you in place.

“I think the girl should get paid for being the muse.”

“Oh yeah?” he smirks, “I'll think about it.” His grin softens, as a content expression washes over his face. You know you must look the same. “Let's talk more tomorrow, okay?”

“Okay,” you grin, before placing a chaste kiss on his cheek. “Good night, Chris.”

“Good night, yn.”

You quietly watch as he walks to his apartment door, his hand settling on the door knob. He pauses, for a few seconds where the air around you stills, before swiveling around and walking over to you again.

you win.

“I forgot something,” he breathes out, before crashing his lips onto yours, furiously, as if needing to imprint his essence onto you, tainting your soul the way you have tainted him, permanently altering the composition of his being. His lips move on yours as if they've done this before, a dance they have rehearsed countless times, perhaps in all the dreams Chris visited you in. Yet, nothing compares to how it feels to have him touch you, lick your lower lip and drag his hand up your hips, press you against your apartment door, and nibble at your neck.

Nothing could have prepared you for the passion he shows you, for how delicious it feels to be pressed against him, for the storm that your lips conjure, swirling in your heart in vibrant shades of red. Then, for the softness of his lips as they slow down their course, plump and rosy as they meet your own, tenderly, more gently, one kiss after the other. “My hope,” he whispers, as his lips find yours again, “my missing piece.”

He’s hot and cold, in yet seeking no out, finally yours.

bonus (one year later).

“So I brought the eggs, milk, sugar,” Chris enumerates as he takes out the groceries, and you turn to look at Sowon to find her already gazing at you, a mischievous look on her face.

“How much do you wanna bet he forgot flour?” you whisper and she giggles, burying her face in her hands to stifle her laugh.

“And… Wait, where is the flour?” he trails off and you burst out laughing, as you and Sowon high-five each other excitedly.

“Daddy, you are really bad at groceries.”

“Am I?” he smiles sheepishly, fiddling with his earlobe in a manner that still makes your heart melt, renders your insides butterflies speaking of Chris’ name.

“Yes, it’s good Mom bought it,” she says naturally, looking down at her iPad. You and Chris freeze in your tracks, eyes instantly locking with one another, yours and his, glossy with emotion, a loving tide enveloping you both.

It's her first time calling you mom.

You swallow down the lump in your throat, crafted not by thorns but by petals, not by ache but with love, before placing your chin on the small of her shoulder, murmuring softly. "Mm, will you help me bake, baby?"

“Yes! I wanna be a baker when I grow up, just like you.”

“What happened to being a stylist?”

“I can't be both?” she frowns innocently.

“You can be anything you want, princess.” you bop her nose and she giggles, pressing a sweet kiss to your cheek.

In the grip of winter, Chris discovers a warmth that defies the season, casting off years of cold from the recesses of his bones. A soft smile graces his lips as he gazes at you, his hopes, his girls, the three of you clad in wolf slippers.

He’ll propose to you tomorrow.

#just so you know im still crying #no bc do you live in my head or something?????#how did you portrait me so well ????? jkjk #no but seriously i wish someone had cared for me like chris cares for sowon #like #its not like my parents neglected me or something #but i felt like a burden to them for my whole life #even if they say they love me they dont always show it #and it hurts #but im glad that in another universe there's little sowon who's daddy loves her so much #it makes me think that maybe there's a universe where little merin is also taken care of #thank you sahar #from the bottom of my heart #- 🖇️𖥻 [ merin's recs ]

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k-germsworld · 1 year ago

Text

Behind The Scenes

Sowon x M!reader

1.8k words

"Kach... Kach." The sound of the shutter in the studio rang continuously. Surrounded by the uninterrupted sound of shutters, the main character is—Kim Sowon, who is also the cover character of this month's magazine. Soon, she changed into a sports bra and leggings. When she appeared in front of many staff members, all staff members stared at her dumbfounded. Every staff member was attracted by her beautiful bodyline, and make everyone's blood boiled.

Numerous spotlights shone on Sowon's body, and her exquisite face and hot body were perfectly capture in the camera.

"Ok, take a break for 30 minutes." The director shouted. Sowon walked to the computer next to the director without haste, and bent her body in front of the computer and looking at the photos just taken. At this time, the director sitting next to her glanced at her buttocks. Just as the director's eyes were about to look elsewhere on her body, she stood up. "I am very grateful to the director for taking such a beautiful picture of me." Sowon said gratefully and bowed to the director to thank him. This bending made the director see her looming cleavage, and the director couldn't help but look at it for a long time. It wasn't until she straightened his body that he replied to her. "You're welcome, it's not my credit but because you are so beautiful and it's my job."

At this time, Sowon bent down again and said to the director's ear: "Oppa, just now I noticed that you looked at my breasts for a long time. Do you want to know more about me now?" The director's eyes widened after hearing this, Eyes full of desire looked at Sowon and nodded. She using lips language to the director and said see you in the bathroom. After she finished speaking, she walked towards the toilet without looking back. Not long after she left, the director followed Sowon to the toilet.

"PD nim, are you in love with my body?" She asked. " Of course I fucking love it, " the director replied with satisfaction, while his hands restlessly began to touch Sowon's tits from behind. The director's hand slowly moved from the tits to her ass. The director's hand touched her butt and said: "I wanted to touch it so much when I saw it just now."

"PD nim, you are so lecherous. You want to touch my body when we just first meet today. Do you only want to touch my body? Don't you want to do something hot?"

After the director heard it, he stopped moving. Sowon turned around and crouched down. She unzips the director's pants and pulls out the director's cock. She took the director's cock with her hand and started stroking the director's cock slowly up and down. The director's cock swelled more and more as she stroked it. Sowon spat on his cock to lubricate the director's cock.

"Sowon, suck my dick!"

"PD nim, how much do you want me to suck your cock?"

"I want it so much! I really want my cock in your mouth right now."

Sowon stuck out her tongue and licked the head of the director's cock. The director groaned at the sudden move. She takes the director's cock in her mouth with satisfaction after hearing the director's moans. She started sucking slowly from the head to the base of the cock, stayed for a few seconds and then slowly pulled out. She also started using her tongue to lick from the head to the balls and from the balls back to the head. She sucks the director's cock like an expert

"Ah......Sowon ah.......very good......" The director moaned non-stop about her blowjob.

Suddenly, Sowon stopped her move. "Oppa, do you just want me to blow your cum out? Don't you want to initiate?"

The director didn't understand what she meant. To let the director know what she meant, she gently tied her hair into a ponytail with her hands. Only then the director understand what she meant for the director to take the initiative.

The director picked up her ponytail with one hand and adjusted the position of the dick with the other hand, and stuffed the dick into her mouth. Now, the director held her ponytail with both hands, and slowly pumped her mouth. Soon, his horniness overwhelmed his rationality. He began to speed up the thrusting. Every thrust of him hit Sowon's throat hard, making she keep choking.

Sowon patted the director's thigh to let her take a breath. When he pulled the cock out of Sowon's mouth, the director's cock was full of her saliva.

After panting, Sowon continued to stroke his cock so that her saliva could wrap around it. At this time, she also spit abit on his cock. Sowon pulled the bottom of her sports bra and put his cock between her tits. Her boobs rubbed against his cock. Sowon would stick out her tongue and lick his dick to double stimulate him. He watching his cock rub against her cleavage, he got excited. She squeezing her breasts and began rubbing his cock faster and faster. His cock feel very tight in her sports bra but it was even tighter this time as she pressed her hand to her breasts. "Ah...so tight...so hot...." He wanna to cum very soon.

Sowon pulled out the director's cock and stood up next to his ear and said, "Oppa you still can't cum..... I still want you to fuck me."

"Sowon, you really took the initiative. The other artists gave me a blowjob and let me cum in their mouth and it's over. But you are different, you are the first artist who wants me fuck you so much."

Sowon didn't answer him, she just kissed the director, it was just normal lips to lips at first. Afterwards, she started sticking her tongue into his mouth. He didn't hesitate, sucking her tongue. He also started sticking his tongue into her mouth. The tongues of the two were constantly intertwined in each other's mouths.

He couldn't help but start kissing her neck, collarbone, until her tits. He kissed them through the sports bra, squeezed and kneaded them with his hands, and licked her nipples. Sowon's sports bra was licked by the director with obvious saliva marks.

The director took off her legging and touched her pussy through the panties. His fingers kept touching her pussy. "Sowon, your pussy is so wet!" "Ah... Oppa more..." After finishing speaking, the director began to lick her pussy through her panties. His flexible tongue licked her pussy until he hit her clitoris, and slowly sucked her clitoris. "Ah.... fuck... don't... stop" she let out a horny moan. She was teased by the director and had already squirted so hard, causing her panties to be covered with her own squirt. He touched Sowon's drenched panties, he took them off, and sniffed them vigorously. "Ah...it smells so good." The director continued to suck her clitoris heartily. His hands were not idle either, he inserted his fingers into her pussy and stimulated her quickly.

"Oppa... I'm going to cum...." After saying that, she squirted second time. Because he licked her pussy so selflessly that his face was full of her squirt. The director licked the water from his lips and said, "It's so fucking delicious... the squirt of the beautiful women is delicious as expected." Sowon slowly calmed down from the orgasm, but he quickly carried she to the sink, he open her thigh wider. "I can't hold it anymore." The director slowly began to thrust his cock into her wet pussy. The director felt the tightness and wetness of her pussy when he first put it in, but soon his cock was able to hit her g-spot. The director kept repeating these hard thrusts, letting Sowon to feel her pussy being pounded hard.

"Ah.....harder..... fucking me more harder...." Sowon seemed dissatisfied with the director's power and asked him to fuck harder. Hearing this, he immediately raising his strength. He began to fuck her with all his power. Since, Sowon just had an orgasm, her pussy was wet so his cock can coming in and out very easily. He was dissatisfied with seeing the tits covered in the sports bra, so he took it off and hung it on her hand. He grabbed her tits with both hands and played with her nipples, and his face stick to it and began to suck her nipples. He keep playing with her nipples making Sowon moaning nonstop. "Ah... Oppa is so good... I'm gonna cum again." When he felt the warmth of his cock, he realized that Sowon had squirted for the third time. He looked at Sowon lying tiredly on the sink, and also looked at his own dick covered by her squirt.

"Would you like to fuck me from behind, Oppa? My back is tighter than the front." The director immediately held her down and turned her around. She is now supporting herself with her hands on the sink, while her ass is swaying and teasing the director. The director spanked her ass and pushed his own cock inside. She let out the loudest moan of the day from the sudden entry.

"It's so fucking tight."

He started to thrust her from behind. He can see her horny face when he is thrusting from the reflection of the mirror. His hand wandered to her tits and began to grabbed the tits. The sound of the his thigh hitting her ass was loud enough to surround the toilet. He kept spanking her ass. Her ass has obvious red palm prints. She let out her moan as the director's cock went all the way in.

After fucking in this position for a short period of time, he finally wanted to cum. "Sowon, I'm going to cum."

"Not inside."

After saying, he pulled out his dick, and Sowon quickly opened her mouth and crouching in front of his dick. The director continued to stimulate his cock until a thick white stream shot into her mouth. Since his semen is too much, some shoot on her face, some cum fall on her tits. After a few seconds, he finally done his ejaculation. Sowon's face and mouth were full of the smell of the director's semen. She opened her mouth to him and let him watch as she played with the cum in her mouth until it frothed before swallowing it. She also put his cummed cock in her mouth to clean it up. She licked the remaining cum off his cock and swallowed it into her mouth as well.

When they're done, Sowon simply washes off the semen with water and wearing back her shirts. After she put on her pants, Sowon took out a business card from her pants. He took the business card and found that it was a series of numbers. "Oppa, this is my private phone number, call this number when you still want me, you can fuck me in any position you want." Sowon said seductively and left the toilet, the director looked at the phone number and then flashed a treacherous smile......

#gfriend smut #gfriend sowon smut #sowon smut #kim sowon smut

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mi-rae07 · 8 months ago

Text

Choi San : A Marriage Not Of Love (Part 1/3)

Pairing : Choi San (Ateez) and named character (Kim So-won)

____________________

Synopsis : San's grandfather had arranged his marriage with Sowon in order to hand their family company down to san, but sowon had fallen in love with him immediately. San had not, but knowing sowon would not marry otherwise he had pretended to love her. And so they got married, sowon truly wanting to devote her life to san and him pretending his smiles, love and care for his now wife.

But now that pretend facade is breaking down, and sowon is now aware of the fact that san does not really love her. But she loves him too much to leave, despite him being cruel and cold she still cannot bring herself to abandon the only man she has ever loved.

But will that crack too? Especially when san has a darker secret and past?

_______________________

A/n : the classic but I thought I should give it a small chance.

________________________

The very first time san met Kim Sowon he knew she was the one. She was perfect, she touched his hand and caressed his face and he felt nothing. Right then and there he knew that she'd be perfect in a marriage with him, he would never be manipulated by her. He would never feel vulnerable, because he didn't love her. In fact, he felt nothing for sowon.

Sowon meanwhile had knew san was the one she'd wanted her entire life, because in the beginning he was perfect. He had touched her arms, held her in his warm embrace and she'd felt everything. The corny sparks, the butterflies, everything. His words were so perfect, his actions all to the point. So when he'd proposed her marriage, she'd agreed immediately. Their marriage had been 3 years ago and it was perfect, so was their honeymoon.

Until he had to cut the 2 month honeymoon off midway because he had some important work suddenly back in the country. But he'd made up for that. Until it kept happening regularly, and he kept getting worse and worse.

It had been a year since then and sowon was now sitting up in her bed at night, having had a nightmare as she breathed heavily. San frowned as he woke up from his sleep as well, sitting up straight as he looked at his wife

San : what's wrong?

Not that san cared, but he supposed he had to pretend so she doesn't break this marriage off. It was important for him to stay married in order to continue as the chairman of the company, his grandfather believed in familial values and believed that if a man couldn't handle his own family and his own wife, love her and make her stay, then he definitely couldn't handle a company.

Sowon : you…you know that you're my husband right?

San chuckled, his hand sliding down her arm and back up again as he said

San : yes, my lovely wife, I am well aware that I am your husband. Did you wake me up in the middle of the night to remind me of our marriage?

Sowon shook her head as she said lowly

Sowon : your friend yena told me that you had gone out for coffee with her the day before yesterday.

It was all yena had been boasting about during some party, as if san were her husband and not sowon's.

San : I did, yes. Is something wrong with that, she's my friend.

Sowon : but san-ah you know I dislike her.

San raised his eyebrows as he said, his tone now defensive

San : are you asking me to stop being friends with someone just because you dislike them, is that it? That sounds rather controlling, don't you think?

Sowon looked at san as she said

Sowon : I just don't think her intentions with you are well.

San : and what exactly do you think her intentions with me are, sowon?

Sowon looked away, shaking her head as she decided not to have this conversation. After all san was right, she was being controlling. San never told her what friends to have and not have.

Sowon : will you go out for tea with me tomorrow, then?

San frowned at the sudden question, he wanted to say no but he knew he couldn't. and so he laid back against the bed before saying

San : of course I will. Whenever you ask, I'll be there. But just know, the tea is on you.

Sowon smiled as she laid back on san's arms, wrapping her own around his waist before saying

Sowon : I love you, san.

San hated this part the most, the part where she sounded so genuine with her love for him. Like she could do anything for him, when he was just deceiving her for his own benefits. But even so he wrapped his arm around her even though there was no warmth or affection to it, and sowon could feel it. As she had for the past year, she was no fool.

San : I love you too.

Sowon shut her eyes as she realized there was no meaning behind that sentence for him, just words he knew he had to say to make her stay with him.

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It had been 3 hours since sowon was sitting in the café, waiting for san to appear. The waitresses had come and gone, asking her if she was ready to order or leave. She’d ordered some water, if that was even an actual order and waited. Now she just growing embarrassed and angry. Just then she felt the door opening, san stepping in as if he was just on time.

As he saw her sitting at the corner table he smiled, walking towards her and sitting down before saying nonchalantly

San : have you ordered something?

Sowon : where have you been?

San : work, doing my own things.

San's body language screamed the fact that he did not want to be here although his words differed, and sowon hated it. She looked down at her empty plate as she said

Sowon : I've been waiting 3 hours.

San : and? I told you I was busy, I'm here right now though aren't I?

Sowon : you could've at least texted me that you'd be hours late.

San : I didn't have the time.

At this point san wasn't even pretending to care, he clearly looked as if he didn't want to be here and had better things to do.

Sowon : san you love me, don't you?

San : yes, of course I love you.

So emotionless, so cold and distant.

Sowon : then why…why do you not act like it?

Sowon's voice was now shaky from tears, and san didn't seem to care one bit. He just stared at her for a while before saying in a cool tone

San : I treat you well, don't I? I care for you, I protect you, I make sure you have everything you want and need.

He said all this but he had no love in his tone, his voice annoyed and impatient.

Sowon : what I want and need is you, san. I don't want all this money and these stupid dresses. I want you, I want my husband.

San : and you have me. I'm here, aren't I?

His voice was cold, but he kept that smile that looked practiced and unnatural. And seeing that made tears stream down sowon's cheeks, her lips trembling as she pressed them together. San huffed as he said

San : are you finished or are you going to keep complaining some more?

Sowon shook her head before wiping her tears away with her shaky hands

Sowon : I can see you don't want me here, so you don't have to force yourself. I'm leaving, and I'm sorry.

Sowon turned to leave, hoping san would stop her. But even as she walked outside the café he did not stop her, as if he was happy she'd left. And so as she rushed to her house she felt sobs spilling out her lips, the people around looking at her in confusion.

But she didn’t care, the person she wanted to look at her couldn't bother to even sit with her for fifteen minutes.

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Sowon was now sitting in their bed, san silently reading a book next to her on the bed with his back rested against the headboard. Sowon had waited for san to say something when he came back after what happened today afternoon, maybe an apology or an explanation as to why right after sowon had left and walked a few distance, she had seen san walking along with another lady to some shop. It had hurt sowon more than she could imagine, considering that this lady seemed to get san’s attention and time more than she did.

Sowon : did you have fun with that lady after I was gone from the café?

San looked up from his book with a frown, he hadn’t realised she’d seen that.

San : yes we went out to a shop to buy somethings, why? I didn’t think you’d care.

Sowon scoffed as she said

Sowon : of course, in your books a wife would not care about her husband going out and having fun with another lady when he can't even meet the wife in her eyes.

San rolled his eyes before looking back at his book as he said

San : can you stop being jealous of every other lady I talk to? Besides Oh Mina is a co-worker, we went out to choose an appropriate dress for the coming party. You're being paranoid.

Sowon : I'm being paranoid? This is called as loving someone, san. I agreed to marry you for the same reason, and I had thought you did too. Did you marry me because you loved me or because you just had to, san?

San : of course I married you because I loved you, because I cared for you. I married you because you mean so much to me, sowon.

And yet he wasn't looking at her, his words so cold and distant.

Sowon : your words…they all sound so empty.

San raised his eyebrows, getting annoyed at her words as he asked

San : are you trying to say that my loving words mean nothing? Accusing me of lying now, are you?

Sowon sighed, looking away as she said in a low tone

Sowon : you just use words, san, you never show your love to me. Ever.

San let out a tired breath as he said

San : can we not have this conversation right now? It's late and I'm tired. You're just thinking too much, sowon. We don't always need to be all over each other and expressing our love. We're married, and that's all that matters.

San kept his book away as he laid back down on the bed with a sigh before looking at sowon who was just staring at him with hurt eyes silently

San : stop with the puppy eyes, please. We're married and this is normal. The lovey-dovey, all over each other phase was just in the start of the relationship, the honeymoon phase.

Sowon chuckled sarcastically as she said

Sowon : we never even had a proper honeymoon phase, did we san? You cut it off half way through because you had important work, apparently.

San : and what about it? Isn't the fact that I had work to do a good enough excuse? You're acting as if I cut it off just to avoid being around you.

Sowon : you do avoid being around me.

Sowon's voice was low, her eyes drooped as san huffed and rolled his eyes again before saying

San : I avoid being around you now because you're just plain annoying. You're the whole reason why I don't even come up to the room until it's late at night. What's the point of sleeping in the same bed as someone who keeps complaining about you the entire night.

Sowon felt her heart break at his words as she felt tears threatening to spill, but she wouldn't let it. And so she stood up and grabbed a pillow before saying

Sowon : then don't, I'll sleep somewhere else.

Sowon turned to walk towards the door as san said nonchalantly

San : go ahead, sleep in the guest room if you want to. It's not as if I care about where you sleep anyway.

Sowon shut the door as she climbed up the stairs to the terrace, her body shaking from the tears as she cried. She didn't know why she was still staying in this marriage when san clearly didn't love her. She should be divorcing him, ruining his life, but she just couldn't. She was too weak.

Sowon opened the door to the terrace before stepping in, going over to the corner as she put the pillow on the floor before laying down as well. It was in the middle of December and there was snow falling all around her, it was freezing cold and she was only wearing a sheer silk night dress. But sowon supposed the terrible cold might distract her from the pain she was feeling.

It didn't, especially considering the fact that today had been her birthday and that being the reason why she'd wanted to go for tea with her husband. But not only had they not gone, he even said hurtful words to her and now she was sleeping in the terrace, shivering with cold already.

Sowon shut her eyes as tears streaked down them, small weak sobs falling from her lips. It wasn't like anyone would care to hear them anyway.

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San had been eating his breakfast alone the next morning when he saw sowon entering the dining table with a shawl wrapped around her shoulders, her entire body shivering and looking like it was about to pass out any minute. San frowned as he realized she was terribly ill, and she was still here.

San : you should be in bed, what are you doing here?

Sowon let out a low groan as she sat in her usual place and stared at the food in front of her before saying weakly

Sowon : I always eat with you during breakfast before you go to work.

San's eyes slightly softened at her words and how ill she seemed to be, and she was still here to be with him.

San : but you should be in bed. Why aren't you feeling well?

Sowon lowered her eyes as she said in a quiet tone

Sowon : because I was sleeping in the terrace last night.

San's eyes widened as he looked at the window next to him, seeing that it was still snowing continuously. When she'd walked out of the room he had expected her to either go to some guest room or walk back in and sleep in their bed a few hours later. He looked back at sowon before asking

San : you were sleeping in the terrace? In this weather?

Sowon said nothing and that only caused san worry at her state of being.

San : why didn't you come in? why didn't you come back to bed, sowon?

Sowon : because you basically threw me out, san. You said you didn't want to sleep in the same bed as someone like me because all I did was complain and waste your time. That's what you said last night, right?

San went silent for a few seconds, not knowing what to say. Now he felt like this was his fault that she was so sick. Sowon let out a shaky breath as she hugged herself from the cold before saying

Sowon : leave it be.

San : why would you listen to my words like that and sleep in the bloody terrace, sowon?

Sowon : just forget about it, san.

San : like hell I'm going to forget about it! Don't you know how unsafe that is, sleeping out in the open like that? What if something bad happened to you, huh?

Sowon : then just marry someone else, marry yena.

San clenched his jaw as sowon mentioned yena's name yet again. Why did she never understand?

San : I am not going to marry shin yena. I'm married to you and I'm going to stay married to you.

Sowon didn't understand why san was getting so riled up over her potential death. Sowon scoffed as she said

Sowon : if I died that wouldn't matter anymore, so stop talking about it as if it's a great deal.

San stared at sowon for a few seconds, the anger in his eyes disappearing as he said in a cold tone

San : fine, it wouldn't matter to me. But you know what would? The insurance money I'd get for you dying under these circumstances, and trust me it would be a hell lot of money.

Sowon looked up at that, her eyes teary and broken from his words. How could he say things like this so easily, without a single care of what it would do to her?

Sowon : am I this worthless to you?

Her voice broke, causing san to freeze. Before he could say anything sowon said

Sowon : you don't even…I'm still utterly alone in this world.

She was bringing back the fact that she was an orphan again, something san hated hearing.

San : oh don't start that again. You're such a dramatic person sowon, you seriously need to stop.

A tear fell from sowon's eyes as she stood up, turning towards the maids before saying in a cold tone

Sowon : I don't want breakfast, feed it to the dogs.

San frowned at that as he said in a firm voice

San : what, no. Sit back down. You're barely able to stand and you expect me to just let you go hungry?

San's tone betrayed slight worry, but sowon could care less as she glared at san before saying

Sowon : yes, I do expect you to do that.

Sowon turned to leave, not saying anything more. San let out a breath as he stood up from his seat, rushing towards sowon and holding her arm to make her stop. He paused at how hot her arms felt to his cold touch, she really was sick

San : don't. I said sit back down.

San started pulling sowon back to her seat as she tried weakly fighting against his hold, knowing there was going to be no use already.

Sowon : let me go!

San : no. you're not walking around in this condition, especially without having eaten anything.

San pushed sowon down on her seat gently before saying, his voice final

San : you're going to sit right here and eat before you do anything else.

Sowon : I don't want to eat! I told you I wasn't bloody hungry.

San glared right back at her before saying

San : I don't care if you're not hungry, sowon, you don't even look capable of walking right now so I'm forcing you to eat.

Sowon : san-

San : you can't survive on an empty stomach alone with this fever. So you're going to stay here and eat, even if I have to shove that food down your throat myself.

Sowon looked away from san, still not bothering to eat. He sighed, saying in a more softer tone now

San : eat, sowon.

Sowon stared at the food as she felt tears in her eyes again, at how san was being and the pathetic situation she was in.

Sowon : what can't you just leave me be, san?

San's irritation melted away when he saw sowon's eyes tearing up, especially when she was shivering so much because of the cold and all because he was being so cruel to her. He took a deep breath before loosening his hold on her arm as he said, softer than ever

San : come on, just have a little something to eat, please sowon-ah.

Sowon sniffled as she took the spoon in her shaky hands, feeding herself some soup as tears streamed down my cheeks. She hated this, deciding she wasn't going to talk to him now.

San stayed silent as he watched sowon eat, feeling relieved that she was finally eating something. He had been sitting opposite her for a few minutes when he saw that she was still shivering slightly, causing him worry again as he asked

San : are you still feeling cold?

Sowon took a big gulp of her soup before saying

Sowon : it doesn't matter.

And to her utter annoyance she shivered right after those words, proving it entirely wrong. San sighed as he said

San : it does matter, you might end up with a fever worse than this if you keep going on like this.

San watched as sowon finished her soup, realizing she wasn't going to talk to him.

San : just come here.

Sowon : no, I don't need it.

Her voice was still shaky as her tears continued to wet her clothes, she didn't want san to think she had no self-respect. But he didn't care about that, her health was more important than some stupid self-respect. San stared at her before hardening his voice as he said

San : come here. Right now.

Sowon pressed her trembling lips together as she got up from her seat and walked towards san who was sitting a bit away from her, sowon feeling pathetic once again. San pulled her by the arm towards him as she fell onto his lap, him wrapping his arms around her immediately as he began rubbing her cold shoulders to keep her warm.

He could see that the maids had left already, leaving them all alone.

San : shh, I'll take care of you.

Sowon shut her eyes tightly as more tears streamed down her cheeks, her lips wobbling as she tried to keep herself from crying out loud. San ran his hand along her shoulders as he whispered gently

San : it's okay, you're going to be okay sowon-ah.

Sowon broke down in his arms at those words as she sobbed against his chest, her painful cries filling the now empty dining hall as san rested his head against the top of hers. He was comforting her when the reason of her tears were him, how ironic for them.

San : I'm so sorry. It's going to be alright.

Sowon knew nothing was going to be alright, she knew he didn't care and never would. And as if he had heard her thoughts he said softly

San : I do care, sowon.

Sowon shook her head, sniffling as she said brokenly

Sowon : you…you don't. You don't care even the-even the slightest. You're just doing this because you have no other choice san.

San pressed his lips together as he let his hand run through her hair and he suddenly felt guilty at how weak sowon sounded. This was all his fault, and that realization hit him harder than ever before as he held sowon's weak body in his arms.

San : I never should've done this to you.

Sowon finally let her arms wrap around san's neck as she felt the fever making her dizzy and more vulnerable. And so she whispered sadly

Sowon : I love you, I know you don't love me and never will but I don't care about any of that. I will still love you, san.

San : I…

San did not know what to say, he just knew he didn't deserve that from her. At all.

San : do you know how foolish it is to say those words to me?

Sowon : I don't care, I don't bloody care how foolish or pathetic it is.

San's arms tightened around sowon's now light body as he realized that the fever and pain was taking a toll on her, he was destroying her and it felt like his heart cracked for the first time in years. He felt a lump form in his throat as he whispered

San : I don't deserve that.

San felt sowon's body get heavier, her arms around him loosening as he realized she was slowly falling asleep. San kept rocking her back and forth as his grip around her tightened, bringing her even closer to his chest as he tried to keep her as warm as possible.

San : I'm so sorry won-ah.

San held the side of her head as he kissed her forehead, feeling her feverish body nuzzle even closer to him as she mumbled his name, half asleep. That brought a sad smile to san's lips as he wrapped the shawl tighter around her so she'd feel as warm as possible. And just like that his wife had fallen asleep in his arms for the first time ever.

San fell into a small trance as he realized that she'd fallen asleep against him, all cuddled up and warm. He stayed silent as he cradled her in his arms and felt the warmth of her body against his. His hand continued rubbing her shoulders as he felt his heart well up with emotions.

Sowon was like a small, innocent child when she was alseep, and he could never hate her when she was being like this. Not that he could hate her otherwise either, but he had to pretend. He just had to.

San ran his hands along her hair as he rocked her back and forth before whispering in a broken tone

San : happy belated birthday my love.

San closed his eyes as a tear slipped past the corner of his eyes, remembering the whole reason behind their fucked up marriage.

___________________________________

FLASHBACK :

San had been kneeling down against his mother's grave, his eyes red and teary from all the crying he had done the past 2 days. He hated himself, and the crescent shaped cuts in his palm along with the various other cuts in his body that was covered by his suit indicated it.

Soohyun : you dare cry at the grave of the woman you caused the death of, you filthy bastard?

San flinched and looked up to face his brother who was now glaring down at him, his eyes red as well. San felt more tears slip past his eyes as he said

San : I'm so sorry, hyung. I'm so sorry I didn't mean to-

Soohyun : you didn't mean to stab your own mother?

San flinched at his words, still remembering his own mother's blood in his hands, her dead body falling limp against him. It was an accident, he thought she was someone else. He was trapped in that place, it was so dark and he was so scared, he hadn't heard anyone's voice for weeks. He didn't know it was his mother, he had no idea when he spilt all his anger at the masked figure in front of him whom he thought was his captive.

He had only realized it was his beloved mother when he heard her strangled groan, her bloodied hands coming up to hold his cheek as it smeared her own blood on it. He could still feel it, like a burn against his skin.

Soohyun : she had come to save you, she'd risked her own life to go to that place and get you out and you…you killed her.

San sobbed at his brother's words, hugging his legs as san begged pathetically

San : please forgive me, I'm so sorry please forgive me hyung. I didn't kn-know, it was an accident please.

Soohyun kicked his younger brother away from him with disgust, staring down at him with such hatred san felt his heart break into pieces.

Soohyun : you took the one person I loved away from me, and one day I will do the same to you. One day when you marry, and have your wife that you love so much, I will kill her the same way you killed my mother. I will drain her off her blood brutally and have you watch it, choi san. I will make you regret ever having loved her.

And just like that soohyun had left a broken san behind, his wails ringing around the empty graveyard as he felt his life crumble upon him. He remembered sowon then, the young lady his grandfather had found for him to get married to because he wanted the company to go down to san and not soohyun. He remembered the way she had looked at him so softly, smiling at him with so much love.

He had loved her too, but now he couldn't. because loving her meant causing her death, soohyun would kill her. And not marrying her would mean his grandfather would give the company to soohyun, and given his character san could only imagine the destruction he'd bring with that much power.

And so he'd made the decision, to marry kim sowon but never love her.

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