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emilyssky · 2 years ago

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Chapter 3: Turn Down The Lights

PAIRING: Lee Know! X fem!reader

GENRE(S): college au, smut, angst

WARNINGS: Mentions of violence and abuse, depression, self harm, eating disorders etc.. mentions of blood, swearing, smoking, smut [ dirty talk, oral; giving and receiving, chocking, spanking, praising, degradation, pet names, sometimes Minho is a dick :)

SUMMARY: "Do you remember what you told me the first time we met?"

"What?"

"You said; Always leave people a little better than you found them" he looked at the floor with a small smile for a few seconds and then his eyes found mine. "You really annoyed me when we first met. I envied your optimism and excitement for life. But each time I saw you, I felt a certain thrill. You made me angry, you made me laugh., you made me feel everything. Something about you made me feel a little more alive each time. I know I fucked up and I know I'm an asshole but I'm also brutally in love with you."

I woke up with one of the worst headaches I've ever had. The events of last night a bit blurry in my head. I groan and search under the covers for my phone. I have 5 missed calls and 12 messages from Chan, a few messages from our group chat, and a missed call from Emma. Last night, after the fight with Minho I got an uber and went straight home, without saying goodbye to anyone. Now I silently curse myself that I didn't. Chan was supposed to take me and Emma home so I decide to go and check if Emma is in her room. I pull myself out of the comfort of my bed and walk across the hall.

"Em?" I gently knock on her door. After a few seconds of silence, I push her door open only to see her bed perfectly made with random pieces of clothing on it and a few shoes thrown around the room which means that she didn't come home last night. I immediately start to panic, Emma isn't the type to sleep around. I dial her number and after 3 rings she picks up.

"What the fuck y/n, you scared the shit out of me. Why did you leave like that? What happened? Where are you?" Her voice is filled with worry.

"I could ask you the same thing. I'm home, where are you?"

"I'm still at the frat house, I slept here last night." She says and I can feel her shyness through the phone.

"Em, who did you fuck?" I giggle.

"Y/N!" She squeals.

"Get your ass over here, we need to talk"

"Do you wanna meet at the cafe near the frat? We need to practice anyway, so we can go straight to the dance studio after."

"Yeah, okay I'll be there in about half an hour. " I say and hang up.

I walk to our shared bathroom and stare at my reflection in the mirror. My makeup from last night is still on, well kinda. I cried so much last night that my eyeliner has spread all over my eyes and down to my cheeks. Last night was too much. It was something that I didn't really want to deal with ever again, seeing him and putting myself in a situation to relive all these bad memories I have with him. I was really grateful for Minho, in a way. I still can't believe that it was him that night. I honestly thought that I would never see that person again. Our conversation that night stayed with me for a long time after. The advice that I was giving him was one that I never seemed to follow, it was a reminder though. I kept the words I said to him in the back of my head to remind me that; I control my life and I can change it any time I want. Which is easier said than done when I find such comfort in the struggles of my life. They become excuses for me to not even try anything better. I shake my head and remove my clothes. I take a quick shower, throw on a pair of jeans and a hoodie, grab my dance bag and make my way out the door. As I walk towards the frat, I decide to call Chan back. I know that he's probably worried just as much as Emma was but honestly, I'm a little nervous to talk to him after everything that happened last night. I don't know if Minho said anything to him or not but either way I can feel my heart racing as I wait for him to pick up.

"You're dead” His voice sends chills down my body, even through the phone.

"Okay let me explain."

"Do you know how worried I was? I can't have a single night of fun without worrying about your ass. What the hell happened?" He sounds genuinely annoyed to the point that it makes me feel bad cause it's true, Chan's always there. He's there for me at every party, taking care of me, taking me home when I'm drunk, and making sure I don't do anything I'll regret the next day. Which is hard.

"I know Chan, I'm sorry" I sigh. "I'll explain everything, are you at the frat?"

"No, I'm at the studio with the guys, why?" I inhale a sharp breath cause I know that being in the studio means that Minho's probably with him.

"I'm going for a coffee with Em, near the frat. She said she stayed over yesterday."

"Yeah" He laughs "She will tell you everything herself, I don't wanna spoil anything"

"How long will you be at the studio?" I nervously ask.

"I don't know. Tell me what happened now."

I take a breath, getting ready to lie to my best friend once again. "I just didn't feel well and everyone was having such a good time that I didn't wanna bother anyone, so I just took an uber home"

"Cut the bullshit Y/n." He brushes my lie off. "Did Minho say anything to you?" At that, I stop walking.

"What? Why would you ask that?"

"He left without saying anything as well and today when I came to the studio, he kept asking me about you" He casually says and my hand that's holding the phone begins to sweat.

"What was he asking you about?" I try to sound unbothered.

"Just random stuff but I found it weird cause I thought that the only interaction you guys had was when you met the guys, which did not go well. Obviously, that's not true so tell me what the fuck happened." He demands again. For a second I consider telling him the truth. That a saw Jackson and everything that happened with Minho afterwards cause Chan is my best friend and I can't really lie to him. We tell each other everything. Well, almost everything. The reality of my relationship with Jackson was something that none knew besides me and him. It's something that I wanna forget, a piece of myself that I don't want anyone to see. I'm ashamed of it. But the more I burn it deep inside me the more it's eating me alive. What was happening for almost a year, took a toll on me. It changed me into a person that I never wanted to be. And now here I am, trying desperately to keep up with the image of myself that my friends and family know and love. Hiding the truth about my childhood and my relationship, and fighting to be the person that I dreamt of becoming. Someone with no trauma, weaknesses, or mental issues. Someone who smiles at every situation and a not a burden to be around. I knew it was a matter of time before all my secrets catch up with me and I know that Minho knowing is only the beginning. I need to take control of the situation. Chan seems clueless about Jackson and that takes a bit of my anxiety away but the fact that Minho was asking about me does not calm down my nerves at all.

"Um, nothing we just bumped into each other when he was looking for the bathroom. He was acting like a complete dick, what's his deal?" I try to push the conversation into Minho.

"He's not a dick. Really." Chan emphasizes the word "He's just.." He trails off searching for the right word.

"A dick." I laugh.

"He's complicated. Don't be quick to judge him."

"Whatever" I roll my eyes. "Listen I really wanna talk to you more but I have to go now, we'll talk later. " I say spotting Emma at our usual table.

"Wait, do you maybe wanna meet tonight? Watch a movie or something?"

"I can't Channie, I have dance practice tonight. Maybe tomorrow?" I offer. Me and Chan used to spend almost every day together but that has changed in the last few months and I have none to blame but myself.

"Um, yeah sure." He mumbles, disappointed at my answer.

"I have to go now, bye ." I hang up and make my way toward Emma.

I pop to the seat across from her. " Tell me everything"

Apparently, Emma ended up hooking up with Seungmin. The moment the words left her mouth, I borderline screamed. She said that they were talking all night long about themselves, life, and other deep shit, and then after a few hours of just talking he finally made a move. It didn't take them long to take it upstairs and they ended up having sex in Chan's room.

"Oh my god, I can't imagine the look on Chan's face when he opened the door" I cover my mouth with my hand, laughing.

"I felt so embarrassed" Emma shakes her head, blushing at the memory.

"Hold up, where did Chan sleep?"

"With Felix" She shrugs.

"Why didn't you guys go back to his place?" I ask taking a sip of my coffee.

"He lives with Changbin, Jisung, Minho, and a guy called Jeongin, which I already know cause we have some classes together."

"There are 5 guys in one apartment?" I scrunch my nose in disgust.

"It's a 2-floor apartment. Apparently, Seungmin's parents are loaded" She lifts her brows for emphasis. "The guys pay half of the actual rent."

"Damn, you should definitely date him" I giggle.

"Stop" She reached to slap my shoulder over the table, which I easily avoid.

"We've been texting nonstop today." She says, blushing.

"Oh." I wiggle my eyebrows at her.

"And he invited me to a party that they're throwing next weekend" She can't stop smiling and that warms my heart. I haven't seen Emma that excited about a guy in so long.

"I mean, you're definitely going"

"You mean, WE are definitely going" She corrects me.

"I'm not in the mood to be a third wheel, thank you very much" I smile at her.

"No, I'm not talking only about you and me" She shakes her head." All of us are invited"

"All of us you mean-"

"Me, you, Hyunjin, and Felix. We all got along so well. Me and Seungmin are not the only ones that started talking." She smiles.

That's just great. If everyone starts hanging out with each other, avoiding Minho will be impossible. I can't believe that the guy that I've been looking for for the past year is now someone I desperately wanna avoid but I can't risk Minho telling Chan anything. I could try and talk to him I guess but I really don't think that he'll care. I'm hoping that he'll just let it go and stay out of it.

"I'm not really in the mood for another party." I try to turn her down politely.

"Y/n, you're coming." She says in a serious voice "You've been locked away in your room for weeks. You won't talk to anyone, you won't go out. What's happening? I'm concerned" Her eyes are filled with worry.

"I'm just not really well mentally. I'm exhausted and I'm stressed with college." I try to brush it off.

"Y/n, mental health is really important and yours has been up and down since I met you. But this 'down' has lasted too long and it's really making me worry" Her hand softly touches mine.

"I know I just- I will get through it, you don't need to worry" I offer her yet another fake smile for reassurance, like the one I've been offering myself as well.

Dance is my life. I've been dancing since I was 6 and somehow growing up I knew that, that's what I was meant to do with my life. While I was in high school I was the best dancer in my studio, but when I got into college I came to realize that I'm only as good as a hundred other dancers here. Hyunjin and Felix are 2 of the best dancers in our year and being friends with them has really helped me. We always practice together and they're always there to help me out. I was supposed to practice with Emma all night long some hard combinations for our class on Friday but around 10 Emma left, claiming she was tired. I decided to stay a bit longer. Late-night practices have lately become a part of my everyday routine. It's a way for me to clear my mind and just let go. For those hours that I'm dancing, the voices in my head disappear. I'm alone in the dance room, just me and the music. None to compare myself to and no teacher to correct my every move. It's the only time of the day that I feel peaceful. Today, however, I'm everything but that. I can't seem to get everything that happened out of my mind and I also can't seem to get any of the steps right. Extremely frustrated at this point, I take a step back and start from the top but it's not long until I step a bit too quickly into one of my turns causing me to lose my balance and stumble backward.

"You're not counting" A voice suddenly says from behind me. I look up into the mirror to see Minho resting against the door with his hands crossed. "You're not counting slow enough. You hurry into the turn, that's why you're losing your balance." He continues when I don't say anything.

"What are you doing here?" I reach for my phone to turn the music off and then turn to face him.

He stares at me, almost as if I caught him off guard. "I was on my way home"

"The studio is on the other side of the campus Minho" I mirror his position, crossing my hands. "Are you stalking me or something?"

A laugh escapes him at my accusation, taking a few steps into the room. "Don't flatter yourself darling" He shakes his head, still smiling. I narrow my eyes at the nickname. I take a moment to look at him, finally under normal light. He's taller than I remember and his shoulders are wide. I can only see the outline of his body through his white shirt and grey sweatpants but I can tell that he's definitely someone who works out. I drag my eyes higher, over his chest that rises and falls at a quicker pace than normal like he's out of breath. I look at his face. Full lips, big brown eyes, and dark messy hair that's sticking into his sweaty forehead. His cheeks look like they're on fire and his jaw is tensed. A big, black bag hanging from his shoulder. I take one last look at his appearance before speaking.

"What are you doing at the dance building?" I ask again. "Were you dancing?" He's definitely dressed like a dancer.

He doesn't respond immediately. Instead, he wets his lips with his tongue and tilts his head a bit, his eyes still on me. There's something about his gaze that makes me feel intimidated. We've only seen each other 3 times and in each one of them, I've struggled to hold eye contact. His eyes are calm and completely unreadable but somehow piercing and intense. His eyes are beautiful.

"Are you not going to answer me?" I press after a few seconds of silence.

He smirks."You seem annoyed. Bad day?"

And just like that everything beautiful about him disappears and my frustration grows. His irony is something that I don't really wanna deal with right now, I would rather be alone. "Yes, today has actually been a really shitty day and your presence isn't making it better" My voice is flat.

"Really? Most people find my company quite enjoyable"

"Right, 'cause you seem like such a joy to be around." I sarcastically say.

His eyes light up slightly, at my clear annoyance. " I could say the same thing."

"You don't know me" I spit through my teeth.

"And you know me?" He snaps back without hesitation.

I take a few seconds to breathe. My chest feels heavy and the all-too-familiar knot in my stomach is tighter than ever. I've been feeling like I'm walking around the edges of a cliff for so long now, desperately trying to keep myself from falling. I need to be alone right now. "Minho, please leave, I want to be alone" I run my hands along my face and through my hair.

"It's okay you can dance in front of me, don't be shy, it looks like you could use the extra help anyway." His lips twitch with suppressed amusement.

"The last thing I wanna do is to dance in front of you and give you another reason to make fun of me. And I don't need any extra help, especially from someone that doesn't know shit about dancing." My voice comes out harsher and louder than I intended.

Minho's small smile drops and I notice the slight shift in his eyes. "I wouldn't make fun of you, As a dancer myself, I've known to respect someone else's effort and passion. " He says in a steady voice.

I pause a bit. What? "But you're studying-"

"I've been dancing since I was 4. It has been my passion for as long as I remember" He cuts me off. "But things change. People change" His eyes soften for only a second as he speaks the last words and then for the first time since he walked into the room his gaze leaves my face and travels the floor and then to the stereo in the corner of the room.

Silence takes over the room and the feeling of guilt grows in me.

"What made you change your mind about dancing?" I question lowly, trying to turn the conversation around and gather any information out of him because for some reason, I'm curious.

His eyes snap to mine as if he wasn't expecting me to press on the matter. "That's not any of your business" He repeats the words I said to him yesterday.

"As you wish" I sigh. "Could you please leave now? I need to practice" I lower the lights a bit and then reach for my phone to restart the music.

"You dance with the lights like that?' He's staring at me. His face is hard, jaw set.

"Mostly, yeah. It makes me feel more comfortable. There're no blinds in this room and people walk by all the time. I feel safer dancing like this"

The loud noise of his bag hitting the ground echoes through the quiet room. I flinch slightly at the sound and lift my eyes from my phone to see him walking towards me. He grabs my phone and presses play to the first song on the playlist that I happened to be scrolling through. He then drops the phone on my bag, turns around, and begins to walk backwards.

His eyes meet mine through the mirror. "Dance for me" His words send chills down my spine. My body doesn't move an inch, his tone and gaze making me freeze.

"I can't. " You confess after a few seconds.

"You're a dancer, and you can't dance?" His lips twitched with amusement once again.

"I'm stuck." My eyes drop to my feet. Minho's words hit me hard, they burn. 'You're a dancer', I smile to myself.

"Dancers get stuck all the time. Listen to the music, let go and dance." Minho's eyes seem softer under the dimmed light of the room and his body stiff as if he's desperately trying to control it, stopping it from moving to the music. I miss that.

"You don't understand" I shake my head. "Everything in my head is stuck, I can't dance" I swallow hard.

He cocks his head. "What do you mean? You're-"

"Yes, I'm a dancer. I am and I'm not. My feet move, they follow the steps, the perform the routines. I keep my legs straight, my toes pointed, arms light and gentle. I try to keep my smile bright and my back straight. I do everything. Yes, I'm a dancer. But I haven't danced in so long. It's like the music doesn't reach my heart anymore, my body moves mechanically and my head is always counting. I don't feel the moves, I can't dance unless it's an already choreographed piece, unless I have to perform, unless I have to be perfect for a class. I don't really see the point in trying anymore. It's not like I'll ever make it professionally." The words pour out of my mouth without my control and I feel like all the suppressed emotions and fears that I've been bottling up and keeping to myself about my future in dance are coming out. My eyes start to burn as I desperately try to control my tears. Every time I meet this man, I somehow end up like that.

"I see people like Hyunjin and Felix, and they're made for this. You can see the passion in their eyes as they dance, even if it's a small piece in class. They put everything they have into it. They dance with their heart. I miss that, so much and I feel like there's nothing I can do to fix it." I'm out of breath by the time I finish talking. And the realization that I just voiced all of this in front of Minho hits me hard. I look up at him, his eyes were clouded and his lips almost frowned. I turn away immediately. The last thing I want is people pitting me, especially him. I quickly grab my stuff and walk past him. He calls my name a few times, but I'm out of the door before he has any time to say anything else.

It's 1.30 am when I open the door of my apartment. All the lights are closed except the light in the hallway that we always leave on. A sigh of relief leaves my lips, knowing Emma is asleep. I left the studio, around 11 pm but I was so emotionally charged that I decided to take a walk instead of going straight home. Listening to music and walking around aimlessly always helps me relax. I think about a million things and nothing at the same time. I think about dance. I think about Jackson. I think about all the people that I call my friends and love more than myself but fill them with lies. So many lies about everything. The person that they call their friend; is that even me? Does anyone actually know me? At that, I probably laughed at loud. I don't even know myself, but that doesn't comfort me. I still feel like the fakest person alive. I think about Minho. I think about how rude he was the first time we met. I think about how he helped me and then how he reacted when he found out I was one of the hundreds of women that have been abused and lied to by a person they loved. Or think they loved. He called me stupid, and maybe he was right. In his eyes right now I probably seem stupid and weak, and after tonight I seem useless as well. I'm fine with it. I'm fine with Minho thinking so low of me, cause frankly, he's not anyone important to me. But the thought of everyone else thinking that way about me makes my stomach turn. Maybe that's the reason I feel so comfortable sharing so much, cause he's a stranger. With him, I don't feel the need to pretend to be someone else or cover up anything. Maybe it's the fact that he already knows or maybe I see it as a clean start considering that he doesn't really know me, either way for some reason I tend to overshare whenever I see him. As soon as I step into the shower, every muscle in my body relaxes instantly, and I stay under the hot water until it turns cold. I slipped into a huge T-shirt that I'd stolen from Chan and climb under the covers. Sleep doesn't come easily to me that night.

"What's up with you?" Hyunjin sits down next to me as I take off my shoes. I woke up 30 minutes before class and basically ran to the studio. My head was all over the place throughout the whole class and Mrs. Martin corrected me about 5 times. I don't really take corrections and criticism lightly. It's hard being a perfectionist when you're the furthest thing from perfect.

"What do you mean?" I say avoiding his eyes.

"Come on y/n." he laughs "You were off throughout the whole class, where's your head at?"

I throw my shoes in my bag, frustrated. Frustrated with myself, with my dancing skills, and with fucking Minho who's the reason I stayed up last night and didn't wake up in time. "I just didn't sleep last night, and I have a terrible headache" I mumble.

Hyunjin runs a hand through his freshly dyed blond hair and sighs. "You know you can always come to me for help, yeah?" He softly says and I know he means it in more ways than one. I've gotten really close with Hyunjin, even though I know him for only 2 years. Both he and Felix have been amazing friends to both me and Emma and I'm honestly so grateful to have people like them by my side.

"And me" Felix sits down beside me, bumping his shoulder into mine. His bright smile is enough to make my day a little better already.

"Maybe we can meet and practice together one of those days. We haven't done that in a while" Hyunjin offers. He lifts himself off of the ground and adjusts his bag on his shoulder. Me, Hyunjin, and Felix used to meet every week, sometimes twice to rehearse together. I guess you can call me lucky that 2 of my best friends are 2 of the best dancers in our class. I always feel safe dancing with them, it gave me room to get better, without feeling judged.

Felix's eyes spark with excitement. "Oh my god, we haven't done that in so long, I've missed it. I've missed us hanging out together." Sadness takes over his voice as we make our way out of the dance room. My heart tightens at the way he spoke. Felix must be one of my favorite humans ever. I haven't met a purest soul than Felix's. He's incredibly kind and thoughtful, always thinking of others first and always with a smile on his face, trying to help as much as he can whenever he can, no matter what. Chan and Felix have been friends since High School. They're incredibly close and Chan's very protective of him. Well, chan's very protective in general.

"Yes, sure we can do that" I end up saying with a smile on my face. "Just not tonight 'cause I promised chan to hang out."

"It's fine, I have plans tonight anyways." Hyunjin shrugs.

"Oh, what are you doing?" I question casually as we exit our building.

"I'll meet up with Jisoo and then I'll go for lunch with Em and Seungmin." Hyunjin says while scrolling through his phone.

"What?" I say dumbfounded. They're already hanging out altogether?

"Yeah." Hyunjin doesn't seem to notice my reaction, instead, his long fingers type something on his phone incredibly fast before speaking again.

"Anyway, I have to go 'cause I really need to shower and I only have half an hour." He swiftly kisses my forehead. "Bye." he yells as he's basically running to his car.

"He's so fucking smitten with her" Felix laughs.

"Yeah, I can see that" I nod smiling.

"Anyway," Felix focuses his gaze back on me. "If you want we can do something together." He says

I shake my head "No it's fine. I haven't hung out with Chan in a while, plus I really feel like going to the studio. It really calms me down"

Felix's eyes soften "Yeah, I know."

"But don't worry, I'll make some time for you in my super busy schedule sometime this week" I joke and my hand comes up to riffle his hair.

His face breaks into a smile. "I hope so."

After a quick shower and a change of clothes, I make my way to the other side of the campus where the studio is. Chan will probably be working late tonight but I don't really have a problem keeping him company since I don't have any classes tomorrow. Plus I love spending time at the studio. I walk through the familiar hallways and stop when I reach the studio door. I lift my hand to knock but before I have the chance, the door opens wide.

"Holy shit!" Jisung flinches backwards and I try my best not to laugh in his face. "You scared the shit out of me" He places a hand over his chest.

"I'm sorry Jisung." I giggle, touching his shoulder apologetically, and walk past him, inside the studio. Chan is sitting on the couch, laptop on his legs, and headphones on.

I walk behind the couch and take them off. "Hi."

His head snaps upwards, and his features relax instantly when he sees it's me. "Hey, there best friend." He smiles at me and pulls me by my hand to sit beside him on the couch.

"What are you doing?" I move closer to him, looking at his laptop screen.

"Just working on some sounds, writing some lyrics. You know, the usual." He sighs, focusing back on what he was working on.

"Did you guys record the song you were talking about?"

"Not entirely. We've recorded Seungmin's and Jisung's parts. We've been a bit stuck on the lyrics actually." He grabs his notebook from the coffee table beside him and passes it to me. " I was hoping you could help a bit. This is what we've got so far."

I take the notebook in my hands and silently read the lyrics. Chan has a way with words like none else I've ever seen. Every time I read something he has written or he plays me songs he's working on, I'm reminded of just how talented he is.

"Chan, that's really good." I honestly say.

A hint of color appears on his cheeks. "Yeah?" He tries to hide his smile.

"Like you don't know that everything you write is fucking amazing" I push at his shoulder.

His smile grows. "That's not true"

He starts playing me all the recorded parts and I have to say, all of the guys are really good, their voices blend so well together. We spent the next 2 hours working on some of the lyrics, playing around with the music, and recording some of Jisung's and Chan's parts. Currently, Chan has gone to the bathroom and I'm on the couch with Jisung. We were supposed to continue working on the lyrics but we started talking and now I'm laughing harder than I've laughed in weeks at stories he's telling me about living with the guys.

"Oh my god, stop, my stomach hurts from laughing" I manage to say through my laughter.

"I swear, he ran around the block in his underwear, it was priceless." He shakes his head at the memory.

"You guys seem so fun."

"You should definitely come on Saturday, so you can see just how fun we are when we're drunk." He smiles. What I've noticed in the short time I've known Jisung, is that he's such a bright person. He's really easy to talk to and tries his best to make you feel comfortable. Bright eyes, and a bright smile, I enjoy being around him. He has a lot of similar qualities to Felix, they would get along well.

"I don't know," I rest my head on the back of the couch trying to catch my breath. My jaw honestly hurts from laughing. "I'm usually a really outgoing person but my social anxiety has been pretty bad lately."

"I get it," He shrugs smiling "I'm also really struggling with anxiety. Have been for years now."

"Really?" He seems so open and sociable that I would've never imagined that he's struggling with something like that.

He shakes his head, laughing. "I'm really shy and I get anxiety over every little thing." He honestly says. "I'm thankful to have people around me that you know, push me out of my comfort zone and help me get over it." My mind trails back to the conversation I had with chan the other day when he told me that Jisung and Minho are really close, and suddenly I'm curious about their relationship but I suppress it. I don't wanna seem noisy.

"Okay, I'll come," I say after a few seconds. "But I'm just letting you know that I'm going to be glued to your side the whole night." I point my finger at him.

A huge smile takes over his face making his eyes disappear. "No problem kid" He ruffles my hair.

"What are you doing here?" Minho's voice interrupts our moment. He's standing by the door, phone in his hand, dressed in black jeans and a simple white shirt that's a bit big on him. His face filled with confusion. I froze a bit not really expecting to see him here and after what happened the last time I saw him I can't stop the embarrassment that rushes through me. I didn't really think about the possibility of him showing up here, but of course, I'm at the studio where he and his friends are working on their music. Stupid.

"She's helping us with the song," Jisung speaks up and I'm grateful for it. "Chan called her."

Minho focuses back on his phone and walks to sit on the chair, facing us. He doesn't seem to share the same uncomfortable feeling I feel towards him but then again he didn't really do anything. I was the one that whined about my problems out of the blue, to a person that I hardly know and hardly cares. But still, the way his face holds the most unbothered expression that I've ever seen bothers me for some reason.

'Why does she knows about music?" He snorts.

"Do you always have to be so rude?" I glare at him.

"It's part of my charm" He smiles, only for a second, and then his face drops again.

I narrow my eyes at him "Oh please-"

"Okay, let's get back into it" Chan enters the room, interrupting me. His eyes fall on Minho, whose eyes are still on me. His face is a mixture of amusement and annoyance if that's even possible and I stare back at him, not breaking eye contact.

"Minho, " Chan pauses. "I thought you weren't coming today. "He sits back on the couch beside me.

"I didn't have anything better to do," Minho shrugs. "and Jisung told me you working on the song." He puts his phone in his pocket and leans forward.

Chan throws the notebook on the table. "This is what we have so far."

Minho grabs it and his eyes scan the page. "Okay," He simply says. "So we're basically done"

"Kinda," Chan scratches the back of his neck. "Thanks to y/n."

"You should come by more often, we could use the help" Jisung pats the back of my head. I feel like a little kid getting praised by his parents for doing the bare minimum.

"Whatever," Minho throws the notebook back on the table. "We were doing just fine. You, Chan, and Changbin are really good with lyrics." He crosses his hands.

"She's good," Chan glances at Minho. "And we could always use some extra help." He says in a steady voice. He seems to notice the clear dislike Minho has for me, not that Minho's trying to hide it in any way. It bothers me, I have to admit. I think that I've been nothing but nice to him since the night I met him a year ago, he on the other hand has been a jerk.

My phone interrupts whatever Minho was going to say. I stare at Hynjin's name with confusion. Why is he calling me? He's supposed to be on a date.

"Hello?" I answer.

"Hi, am I interrupting?" His tone is rushed.

Minho is looking back at his phone and Chan turns to talk to Jisung. "Um, no what's up?"

"You won't believe who I just saw"

"Who?"

"I was leaving Jisoo's dorm and I run into that piece of shit you were dating" My grip on my phone tightens and my eyes widen.

"Jackson? What?" I say shocked. Chan's and Minho's eyes are on me. "Hold on" I mutter to Hyunjin.

"Excuse me" I get up and walk towards the door, ignoring Chan as he calls my name. I walk down the hall and once I'm far enough, I speak again.

"What happened?" I ask, trying not to sound as nervous as I am.

"Well," Hyunjin sighs "We bumped into each other in the halls." He pauses.

"And?" I say, impatiently.

"He asked me how are you doing," I release a breath at that, but Hyunjin continues. "And he also asked me if you're seeing anyone." His tone slightly changes, dropping lower.

"And what did you say?" I nervously play with the end of my shirt.

"I told him that as far as I know, you're not but either way it's none of his business" I giggle at his response. I can almost picture Hyunjin's face, saying that.

"And then he asked me who was the guy that interrupted you when you were talking and picked a fight with him." He clears his throat.

I swallow hard.

"I told him that who you're seeing is not his problem anymore and I left. But as I was walking back I kept trying to remember if you were with anyone that night, 'cause If you had hooked up with anyone, you would've told me." He pauses." First of all, what the fuck? Why were you talking to him? If you're even thinking about forgiving him, I'm done with you." He suddenly raises his voice. Even when me and Jackson were together, Hyunjin never really liked him. After we broke up, I told everyone that he cheated on me instead of the actual story.

"No, it's not-"

"And second, what the hell was he talking about? What guy?" He cuts me off. He sounds annoyed, to say the least.

"Okay, it's not what you think." I try to calm him down. "I was just getting a drink and he somehow appeared in the kitchen. He kept trying to talk to me and I kept telling him that I don't wanna hear shit but he wasn't giving up. At some point, he was almost yelling at me, and then Minho, one of Chan's friends walked in." I clarify.

"Oh, so that's the guy he was talking about?" Hyunjin says, sounding almost relieved.

"Yes. Anyway, basically Minho told him to leave me alone and Jackson was not having it. Long story short, Minho pushed him and we left the kitchen." I explain.

"Bro, that's crazy" Hynjin chuckles." I would really wanna see that."

"You were fucking Jisoo at the moment."

He just laughs at my comment. "So you and Minho?" He teases.

"No, nothing's up with me and Minho." I immediately say, rolling my eyes even though he can't see me.

"What about me?" Minho suddenly appears from down the hall and I almost drop my phone. His hands are in his sweats, a bored-looking expression all over his face as he walks toward me. I glance at him not knowing what to say and hold up a hand in front of his face, silently telling him to wait.

"Yeah sure." Hyunjin says, his voice dripping with irony.

"Really Hyunjin, nothing's up. I have to go now, have fun with Emma and Seungmin." I rashly say.

"Okay wow, rude. Fine but we'll talk about this another time." He says.

"Yeah yeah okay, bye now." I giggle and hang up. I turn to look at Minho, whose back is against the wall, his hands crossed in front of him and his face blank, simply staring at me. He's one of the people that I can never tell what they're thinking cause his face holds the same expression almost all the time. His eyes move around my face. From one eye to the other, down my lips, and back to my eyes again. He stares way too much.

"What do you want?." I speak up, feeling uncomfortable under his intense gaze.

He smiles to himself, noticing. "Were you talking about me?"

"Don't flatter yourself, darling." I smile back at him innocently, using his line. His eyes drop to the ground, and the smile on his lips grows. "I was just explaining to Hyunjin what happened."

"So you were talking to Hyunjin about what happened with your abusive ex?" He grins at me.

My eyes widen at the tone of his voice and I look around to see if anyone heard him. "Keep your voice down. " I say through my teeth, stepping closer to him.

His hands come up to his mouth. "Shit sorry, I forgot none needs to know." The amusement mixed with irony that's written all over his face makes me want to punch him right in that perfectly straight nose of his.

Instead, I narrow my eyes at him. "I told you to forget what you saw.'"

Both of his eyebrows lift up for a second. "Well yeah, but you see, your situation is really interesting to me." He uncrosses one of his hands and brings one to his chin.

"I don't care what you're interested in Minho."

"You're so defensive." He shakes his head, that stupid smile never leaving his face.

"And you are so annoying." I snap back.

"You know most women that are in situations similar to yours try to defend their partner, it's a common symptom". He shrugs.

My hands turn into fists as I try to remain calm. "I'm going to hit you." I lower my voice, glaring at him.

"No really, tell me something" He pushes himself off the wall " Why haven't you said anything to anyone?" His face changes a bit, and the smile that was on his lips slowly starts fading. "Does he have anything on you or something?"

"Minho," I sigh "I just don't want to, drop it, you're pissing me off."

He looks to the left and takes a deep breath. I can see his jaw tightening as he shakes his head and then turns to look back at me. His eyes, suddenly harder than before.

"Stop being so weak, just tell me." He spits.

His words trigger me so much that I forget about Chan and Jisung, only a door down the hall and I raise my voice. "Excuse me?"

He releases a breath through his nose and shakes his head once again, probably regretting what he just said. " Forget it" He mutters and pushes my shoulder as he walks away.

I don't move, trying to control my anger and keep myself from dragging his ass back here and asking him what's his fucking problem. I don't care if he's bored or simply just wants to fuck with someone but my personal life is none of his goddamn business. He knows nothing about me or the situation and the fact that he judges me so easily makes me wanna smack him and cry at the same time. I shouldn't care, I shouldn't, he's none to me. What makes my eyes water though is the fact that his reaction is the same that everyone would probably have if they knew.

Weak. Stupid. Pitiful.

I remained in the hallway for a few minutes to cool down a bit before returning to the studio, Thankfully Minho was not there when I got back. I couldn't stay any longer. I quickly made an excuse, that I have to study and Chan offered to drive me home, leaving Jisung to work on editing some of the pieces that they recorded.

"Thanks for the help," Chan says as he pulls up to my apartment. "Jisung loved you" His smile is soft.

"I liked him too, he reminds me of Felix" I giggle.

"Um, yeah in a way I guess" I scratch the back of his neck.

'You're really close with them huh?"

"Yeah," He nods "They get me you know? Don't get me wrong I love our friend group, but having people that have the same dreams as me is really encouraging. We connected through our love for music."

"I can tell," I shrug, knowingly. "Even by the little I've seen you guys together, I can tell how close you have gotten."

"We're all close, obviously some more than others but we're definitely a team."

"Who are you referring to?" I ask.

"Um, you know how we're all close but Felix and I are a bit close? Or me and you? Or Hynjin and Emma?"

"Yeah." I laugh.

"Well, Jisung and Minho are like me and Felix" He smiles.

"None is like you and Felix." I smile back. Chan and Felix have a connection like no other, it's truly amazing.

"True." He grins. "But they are kinda like that too. Minho has been through some stuff and Jisung was there for him."

I hate the interest that sparks inside me at his words, but I can't help as the thought of the first time I saw him brushes through my mind. I never learned his story and why he said everything he said that night.

"What happened?" I decide to ask. He stayed a mystery for a year, maybe I can finally get an answer, but Chan shakes his head.

"That's not my story to tell. You should ask him yourself if you're interested. But I'm warning you, it's hard to get him to open up about anything."

"Open up?" I scoff. "I can't even say a word to him without him picking a fight."

"He can come off a bit cold at first." Chan struggles to find the right words.

"Rude is the right word, Chan." I correct him.

Chan sighs. "Do you want me to talk to him or something?"

"Oh no," I panic a bit. "It's fine"

"Okay." He pats my head.

"I have to go, thanks for driving me. " I grab my things and get out of his car.

"Goodnight princess" He waves at me, driving off.

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alexies-world5 · 3 months ago

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Did you guys see skz yesterday? Oml they did so well !! I watched it love from the very start when it was going on, and wow... I think you can still see the live, I dunno. Anyways I'm hungry

#idk #love #im bored #kawaii #i.n smut #skz stay #skz bang chan #skz fluff #skz seungmin #i.n skz #skz changbin #skz lee know #skz felix #skz hyunjin #skz han #skz #stary kids #concert #chicago

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yangkitties · 1 year ago

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late night epiphanies ✩ k.sm

pairing: kim seungmin x gn!reader || word count: 0.7k genre: fluff || warnings: brief mention about exam stress, food mention, lmk if i missed smth :) synopsis: late night study sessions tend to make you snacky, so what happens when there are no snacks lefy in the house? note: raahhhhh nyx back at it again 💪 this one is a lil bit of an old one but i loooveee the cute n cosey vibes and i hope y'all enjoy it too :] as always my askbox is open, enjoy reading 🫶

Finals week was killing you. You spent hours upon hours during the day and the night, trying to cram as much information you could into your head. At one point you didn’t even know if you were comprehending what you were reading.

Frustrated, you tilt your head back in your chair, getting a good view of the ceiling. Your body felt numb, entire being only filled with dread and exhaustion. You sighed and dragged your palms over your face, stretching as you got up.

‘Fuck this I need a break.’ You dreamt of vacation, crisp air and the smell of coffee and strolling down bustling streets. You shook your head, fluffy hair covering your eyes as the little image shattered before you.

Your eyes darted to the clock on your desk, the bold red letters glared ‘1:08 AM’. You were about to give up and just go to bed when your stomach grumbled. You thought back and realised it had been over 8 hours since you had last eaten.

Soon, you were pawing through the refrigerator at your small apartment that you shared. All you found was cooking ingredients and nothing that you could make instantly. At that moment you decided to go for a late night grocery run. Only to be reminded that you would need to borrow your roommates car.

You roommate was also likely up but you didn’t want to disturb him in case he wasn’t. But just as you closed the door and decided to give up once more, you heard him come out his room.

‘Oh, you’re still up..’ Seungmin commented, yawning as he ruffled his soft brown hair.

‘Yeah, studying. Got up to eat but there isn’t anything left.’ You pointed out, unknowing sadness bleeding into your voice. Seungmin, ever the observant, picked it up, and being the wonderful soul he is, offered to take you to the grocery.

‘Wait really? Thank you so much!!’ You jumped up to grab a jacket before you could step out. ‘Only ‘cause im hungry too..’ he huffed out as he pulled on his own and jingled his keys as he waited for you.

You hadn’t realised when you had gone over to the laundry basket that you had grabbed the first jacket you spotted. And it was too late to turn around when you did notice that the sleeves were too long snd that it smelled faintly like books and coffee, like Seungmin. It slipped your mind the second you stepped out into the cold of the night as he lead you to his car. Seungmin unconsciously smiled, observing your sweater paws created by his jacket.

The car ride was filled with a comfortable silence, Seungmin concentrating in the road and you staring out the window enjoying the night breeze. In between, Seungmin started to hum softly and your ears filled with the gift of his beautiful musical talents.

Soon enough you were pushing a shopping cart between the two off you, Seungmin manoeuvring it while you picked out snacks from the shelves.

Once you arrived to the instant food section, you spotted your favourite ramen. There was only one hitch. It was placed on the highest shelf, and neither of you were tall enough.

Determined, you grabbed the cart’s handle, dangerously close to Seungmin and reached up. Worried and not thinking, his hands instantly went around your waist, holding you safely.

Soon enough you plucked the box out of the shelf and landed proudly next to Seungmin, whose hands were gently resting around you. Turning, you smiled in victory at him, eyes forming little crescents.

You put the box in the cart and held on to the handle, pushing it along with Seungmin. Unthinking, he placed his hand own on top of yours, naturally intertwining your fingers.

You noticed, but didn’t mind. His soft callouses from playing the guitar and warmth felt nice against your hand. You continued on, as if unaware.

Seungmin on the other hand, was hyper aware. The jarring cold of your hand, the way your fingers fit right into his, all were things that made him feel butterflies. But before anything could possibly happen, you bring your hand down, taking his with it.

Your hands swinging between the two of you, sometimes knocking against the handle. But neither of you mind, finding comfort in the odd hour.

As you drive back home, you trace shapes into your own palm, smiling at the warmth Seungmin’s hand left behind.

Back at the apartment you thank him for the ride and squeeze his arm before parting ways.

Leaving traces of your warmth on his hand, his heartbeat ten times faster than he though possible. With the same speed, his thoughts raced, all towards one conclusion. Seungmin liked you.

©️ yangkitties 2023 do not copy, plagiarise, or repost

#stary kids #skz #stray kids fluff #skz fluff #stray kids imagines #skz imagines #stray kids x reader #skz x reader #kim seungmin #kim seungmin x reader #kim seungmin fluff #seungmin x reader #seungmin fluff #stray kids drabble #skz drabble #seungmin imagine #seungmin drabble #🖋️: nyx.writes ━ skz ☆

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his-angell · 1 year ago

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Jealousy. (minsung.)

Plot; Minho gets a sudden pit in his stomach as he watched Jisung flirt with Seungmin all day. He doesn't understand this feeling. He sat through a live with the other members, only watching as his lover seemed to slip further away from him. But really, he was reading the whole thing wrong. Paring; Lee Minho x Han Jisung Genre; Angst, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort Word count; 1.4k Warnings; None Request?; No

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Minho and Jisung had been dating for about a year and a half now. They were more than happy. They never really argued. If they did, it was always some small thing, which they talked through. They were happy. Very happy. They were still quiet about it to the Stays. They loved the Stays, but they didn’t really want it out publicly yet. They had hate already, they were sure they would get ten times as much if they told it to the public. Besides, they thought it was silly to see how the Stays would post about their suspicions, which they didn’t really care. There would always be the suspicion whether they were together or not.

Today was a good day. Kind of. It was an odd one for Minho. Jisung hadn’t been paying much attention to him. Which, if he needed space, he totally understood. But this wasn’t him needing space. Because he was all over Seungmin. Holding hands with him, sending fake kisses to him. Cuddling on his arm, laughing at his jokes. You know, all that stuff. Minho never cared, cause Jisung normally turned and gave him the sweetest eyes, ones only he got to see. But today he hadn’t even received a glance from his boyfriend.

It was making Minho feel weird. He wasn’t angry.. He was upset? Sad maybe? He didn't understand what he was feeling. There was this pit in his stomach watching his boyfriend love on someone else. They had a live to do that day, so Minho hoped that Jisung would notice what he was doing and try and correct himself. The live had been going on for about five minutes now. So far.. Nothing from Jisung. Minho stood next to him, resting his hand on Jisungs shoulder. He leaned on him. He paid attention to what Chan was saying, still trying to introduce what they would be doing today. Jisung got excited and jumped a little, grabbing onto Seungmin and shaking him.

Minho groaned and held his chin. When Jinsung jumped up, his shoulder crashed right into his chin. He was a bit dazed, since his jaw was knocked pretty hard. “You okay, Lee Know?” Felix raised an eyebrow. Minho blinked his eyes back open to see the others all snickering, thinking what had happened was a little funny. They all tended to laugh at each other's pain. Even Jisung laughed.. Minho nodded a little. He looked at Chan and kinda pointed to the door to be dismissed. Chan nodded. With that, Minho walked behind the tripod and rushed out of the room they were in, closing the door a little harsh.

He had gone to get water, taking a few minutes to regain himself. He took a deep breath. He was trying to shake this ugly feeling off his shoulders. Not the pain, but the pit. The pit had only grown bigger when he saw Jisung hiding in Seungmins chest while he laughed at the accidental knock to Minho's jaw. He shook his body and sighed. When he headed back into the room, he decided he’d just sit back and observe. He would pitch in a funny comment here and there, helping as a judge for a game or two.

The whole thing was so painful. Watching how Jisung would constantly run to Seungmins side. He ended up going on his phone at some point, watching the live from his phone, but not to watch the others, only to read comments. He noticed a lot of comments asking what was wrong with him. And a lot of others asking if he and Jisung had a fight. Some even suspected that Seungmin and Jisung had gotten together, making him scoff.

It felt like forever when the live finally ended. Minho had never gotten up so fast to leave a room. But little did he know, someone followed him. He had gone to the rehearsal room. Maybe dancing would get this feeling off his chest. He scrolled through his phone, looking for a song he could dance to. “Baby?” Jisungs soft voice sounded. Minho sucked in a sharp breath as he whipped around, ready to bitch slap the person that nearly scared him to death. He sighed out when he realized it was only Jisung. He was almost annoyed to see him..

He grumbled quietly. “Yes, Jisung?” He looked at him almost expectantly. “I’m.. I’m sorry for earlier. When I hit your chin. I didn’t feel you on my shoulder.” Jisung said softly. Minho scoffed. “That's it?” He spat. Jisung was surprised by the others' snarky tone. “Yeah?” He shrugged a little, confused at what else he did. “You've been ignoring me all day, Jisung!” Minho laughed in disbelief. “You have basically been Drooling over Seungmin! Do you have a thing for him or something?” He added.

Jisungs face fell. He blinked. He shook his head quickly. “Minho, no- That's not it. Not it at all!” He said quickly. Minho crossed his arms. “So please tell me what it is? Huh?” He said. He noticed how Jisungs shoulders were tense. He was really fidgety, Which he normally is, but this was different. “I.. I didn’t think you would care? I-I mean we’re always affectionate with the others, so I didn't think it was a problem.” Jisung said quietly, avoiding the others' gaze. “And I didn’t mean to ignore you- I.. I wasn’t thinking. My minds been all over the place with rehearsals and practice. Everything.” He rambled. "And I know it's not an excuse, but I really am sorry." He finally finished running his mouth.

Minho frowned. He looked down. So why did he feel like this? He still didn’t understand.. Truth was, Minho had never truly been in love before he met Jisung. Sure, he’d been in relationships. But he had never been truly in love. He looked at Jisung, letting out a shaky breath. “Why do I feel so upset then? Because you're right, we almost always are affectionate with the others- But I've never felt weird like this..” He said, hoping Jisung would know what was wrong with him. Jisung smiled a small bit and walked up to his boyfriend, cupping his cheeks. “Oh, Minho.. Are you jealous?” He tilted his head.

Nothing had ever slapped Minho so hard. But that statement had him dumbfounded. “Am I?” He mumbled. “Hmm.. I guess you really do care about me,” Jisung smiled a little bigger. Minho nodded a little, finally understanding why he felt weird all day. He moved to hold Jisungs waist. “I guess so.” He snickered, jokingly rolling his eyes. He looked down into his loved doe eyes. “So, you don’t hate me?” He asked quietly. Jisung shook his head, moving to wrap his arms around Minho's neck, messing with his hair a bit. “Never.” He said. “And.. You’re not leaving me for Seungmin?” Minho asked, never once breakin eye contact with his lover. Jisung giggled and shook his head again. “No, Minho, I’m not leaving you for Seungmin.” He said.

Minho leaned down and kissed Jisung softly, which Jisung happily returned the kiss. Minho pulled away with a small peck to his lips. “I’m sorry for being mean.” He whispered, pulling Jisung into his chest, huggimg him softly, resting his head on his. Jisung hummed and hugged the others' waist. “It's okay.. Thank you for talking to me about it.” He said. “Now.. Why’d you come into the rehearsal room?” He peaked up at his lover. “Do dance and try to get the weight off my shoulders. But it's pretty much gone now.” Minho chuckled. Jisungs eyes twinkled as they stared up into Minhos. “How about we still dance, huh? Get energy out of something.” He shrugged. “I’d love that.” Minho giggled.

Minho pulled away from Jisung and connected his phone to the speaker in the room. He grinned as he clicked on ‘Finesse’ by Bruno Mars. He got in His place next to Jisung, sending him a small giggle before they broke out into the choreo.. Sharing happy laughs and taps as they faced each other. They sang loudly to the song, too happy in their heads to see the others peaking into the door. Jeongin was recording.. “They’re so cute.” He giggled. The others snickered as they dismissed themselves out, Chan having to drag Jeongin away from the door, letting the two have their moment.

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I love the relationship dynamic between these two. I almost did this the other way around, where Jisung gets jealous, but I felt it would add a bit of flavor if it were Minho. plspls send in Stray Kids requests if you guys have any! I hope you have a good rest of your day/night!

all writing rights reserved to @his-angell do not repost or translate my work without my permission.

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chrissypoox2 · 2 years ago

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𝑻 𝑼 𝑹 𝑵 𝑰 𝑵 𝑮 𝑷 𝑨 𝑮 𝑬 (chapter 2)

Genre: Fluff, Angst

Pairing: Bangchan x Female Reader

Word Count:2,111

A/N: SOOOOo I'm back with the pt2 of turning page, I genuinely don't know how many chapters or seasons or whatever this series is gonna have, but I hope you guys stick around for it most of it. the storyline is going to be a little messy at first, it's more about giving information than focusing on Chris's past so then when the relationship comes up you can see and understand why he acts and does the things he does. The series does get pretty grim I think, but don't worry yall it'll be good I promise. I'll still be writing oneshots. Anyways please enjoy guys (˵ •̀ ᴗ - ˵ ) ✧

TW: suggestions child abuse, violence

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"Chris? Is that you?" You come to a full stop when you reach the end of the stairs, everyone takes a sip of their beverages as they look at the interaction that you two share.

"Y-yeah-... you look amazing Y/n. I see that the city has been treating you well" He scratches the back of his neck with his left hand. Chris' body language spoke for itself when words failed him, he was nervous.

"Yeah, I guess it has, you look amazing yourself Chris." You couldn't believe your eyes, seeing your once best friend, and first love standing right in front of you, it left you going through a rollercoaster of raw emotions. You continued down the stairs and could see everyone looking at you guys in awe, almost like the meeting between you two was planned out.

"Well then now that, that's over. Let's carry on everyone" Your mom said flashing you a wide smile, she was up to something for sure. As the evening carried out, more and more people from the town began to pour into your house, and greetings from all the neighbors reminded you of the warm environment you had growing up. But something was off, while everyone was in the kitchen and living room enjoying the welcome back party, Chris wasn't anywhere to be found. Remembering when Chris was troubled or just needed to get away from large gatherings he would sit on your back porch and watch, listen to the crickets at night, and bask in nature.

You made your way towards the back porch and heard him on the phone, you didn't want to interrupt but he sounded upset, he sounded more than upset, he was mad. Making sure you were unseen you listened in on the conversation.

"Well, what am I supposed to do? I didn't create this mess you did. So why should I have to deal with the consequences? I'm not selling the farm regardless of what you say. It's under my name, therefore, it is my property if you need money that bad get a job." Chris was pacing back and forth, you couldn't help but smile, even though he was upset, you were happy to see that he grew up being able to stand up for himself instead of being pushed around. You weren't able to hear what the person on the line said but it did set off a fuse in Chris.

"WHY DON'T YOU JUST F*CK OFF ALREADY?!" Chris hung up and sat down letting out a huge sigh.

Should I give him some space?

Your feet moved before you could finish your thoughts.

"Why aren't you enjoying the rest of the party?" You looked over to Chris from the door frame and when he turned to face you his expression changed completely.

"I just had something to take care of, want to join me?" He scooted over making room for you on the bench and looked up at you with a warm grin. you nodded in agreement to accept his invitation and walked over to sit next to him. As you sat down Chris' arm was around you but leaned up against the bench, you felt a little tense, but it reminded you of your teenage years. You couldn't help but let out a little giggle which made Chris look at you.

"What's so funny?" He looked at you concerned as your giggle turned into a laugh, which then turned into hysteria, you were laughing so hard that your stomach began to hurt and tears were coming from your eyes.

"Are you okay? What got you laughing so hard?" Chris himself let out a giggle too. You try to compose yourself as the sentence forms together in between each laugh.

"Remember-...remember when back in high school-...you-...you pissed your pants in the hallway because you got jump scared by the mascot before the football game." Your cheeks began to burn with all the laughter. Chris also started to laugh with you. the laughing fit lasted for at least 3 minutes before both of you guys began to calm down. You looked up at Chris.

"I missed this, laughing at stupid things with you. How have you been? And don't give me some bullsh*t answer" You turned your entire body to face him, not breaking eye contact which you knew was the only way to get information out of him.

"I've been good. Really. My dad moved out but gave me the farm which at first was hard because of the amount of debt he left for me, but I finally got it paid off so it's just easy cruising from here." Something else was bothering him, you wanted to ask about the phone call but not now, now wasn't the time to ask questions. You just wanted to catch up with him.

"That's good to hear, I always wondered how you were doing when I left. Actually, sometimes I even thought about coming back just for you" You looked down and twiddled with your fingers, Chris looked at you with innocent eyes, almost resembling puppy eyes.

"Of course you did, but I'm glad you didn't. I had to do a lot of growing after you left and it was something I needed to do on my own, I'll always be grateful for you Y/n. Actually, I wanna show you something, would you mind taking a drive with me?" Chris stood up and held his hand out, you quickly accepted it, but you didn't stop there. You pulled Chris into an embrace.

"I'm grateful for you too Chrissy." Chris was a bit shocked by the sudden hug, but he hugged you back. You could feel the muscles from his biceps and when you touched his back you could then feel the back muscles he had developed. Your mom always told you those farmer men were either all muscle and hard work or no muscle and tended to cattle.

TIME SKIP -

You and Chris hadn't been driving for too long, when you realized where you were headed too, you saw something incredible as he drove into the driveway of his renovated farm. Before his home was huge but looked just as dead as the inside did, and the field was empty, not a grain of wheat to be seen. What you're looking at now is the complete opposite of that. His home had color (of course it was the obvious white and blue wrap-around porch home he loved looking at in catalogs). The fields were not only filled with wheat but also sweet berries and orange and apple trees by the ton. Chris' dad inherited the farm from his dad before him. After Chris' mom's death, the farm turned into a wasteland, and his dad's mental health went with it.

Before you could even realize it, Chris opened the passenger door helping you get out of his truck.

"Chris this is so beautiful, I knew you would be good at stuff like home Renos, but this?! This is a full property flip!" You looked in awe at his home, you walked up to the front door and looked behind you, seeing that Chris was also looking at the house. He looked down at his shoes and then kicked the gravel on the floor. No one gave Chris that sort of appraisal, it was the first time in years that someone even complimented his hard work. He was so used to girls from the town telling him how good-looking he was but no one ever said anything about how hard-working and determined he was. Only you did that.

"Hey! cmon, I wanna see the rest of your masterpiece" Chris looked up and walked towards the door unlocking it and opening the door, as you both stepped inside he turned on the lights, and although the design was nice, it was empty, barely any furniture or anything. You looked back, Chris was no less than 5 steps behind you, and then averted your gaze to the house again.

"Why is there barely anything in here?" you walked back to Chris looking up at him, his gaze meeting yours.

"Well, that's just the thing. When you told me about that whole high school thing it reminded me of why I couldn't finish the inside..." You looked puzzled. Why would you have anything to do with Chris decorating the inside.

"I don't understand, why can't you finish it?"

"Because you promised me, to help make my house a home." Chris looked away from you and started walking into the house down each hallway, you closely followed. He stopped before he went upstairs to look at you.

"Listen, before we go upstairs, my room is really messy and I'd just prefer if you didn't go in okay?" You nodded saying yes.

A man needs his space, but why does it feel like he is hiding something from me.

You continued to walk into the rooms and then he opened the door into his studio, he loved making music, it was his escape sometimes when you came over you would sit on his bed on your phone, and then he would play you something asking for you to rate the performance 1 out of 10, no matter what he produced and wrote they were always a 10 even more than a 10. You walked into the studio before Chris could close the door. In the corner was a desk with a bunch of paper splattered all over it. You looked down at them and then at Chris.

"Still making music I see." Teasing him. He blushed and then walked over to fix the papers.

"Yeah of course, what else would I be doing." Leaving a grin on his face.

"Are these all of our photos together over the years?" You stopped looking at a wall covered in framed and unframed pictures on the wall. Chris came up behind you and looked at them still with a smile on his face.

"Yeah it is, like I said, you're supposed to help me turn this house into a home." You looked at him and flashed a wide smile. Then you heard a thumping sound. Walking towards the sound Chris stops you and signals for you to stay put. Doing so, you watch as he walks into the other room across from the studio, looking in from the doorway of the studio, you could see a woman in the room. A pregnant woman.

Why is there a pregnant woman in Chris' room? Does he have a girlfriend or even a wife perhaps?

You turn so that your back is facing the doorframe and your mind begins to run a madness, then Chris touches your shoulder and you shudder.

"Sorry, sorry...I'm just a little psyched out right now. Would you mind taking me back home? I got a headache out of nowhere and it's starting to hurt a lot." Chris looks at you worried, not only for you but also for himself. He nods and guides you down the stairs. As you both enter the car, Chris stops and looks at you.

"Hey before we get going-..." You looked down at your fingers and began to twiddle with them.

"Would mind keeping this a secret. No one else knows about her, and I'm not sure what or how I would even bring it up." You had so many questions and you needed the answers to them now.

"Who was she? Your girlfriend?" Chris looked at you then back to the wheel.

"Well technically she is my stepmom but she is young enough to look like my girlfriend. A lot of things happened after you left and my dad became messier. I guess his alcohol really did have a death grip on him for him to impregnate a young girl." You let out a sigh but also looked at him concerned. Chris' dad was no younger than 50 and you both were in your mid-20s now. So for his dad for him to impregnate a younger woman, was a big deal and also kinda creepy.

"What happens in vegas stays in vegas." You side-eye him holding back a laugh. You both start laughing and Chris drives you home.

As you arrive you notice most of the cars aren't there anymore and you can hear the sounds of someone screaming and yelling inside. You hurry out of the car into the house Chris follows behind you in a hurry. As you open the door you see your mom on the ground bleeding and some tall guy right there on top of her.

TO BE CONTINUED

#bangchan x female reader #bangchan #bangchan fluff #bangchan x reader #bangchan angst #chrissybooboos #skz x reader #skz fluff #skz angst #straykids x reader #straykids fluffs #straykids angst #stary kids #turningpagesrs #im tired lol

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linomnom · 9 months ago

Text

I think wolf slippers are a condition for joining the family. i love them so much😭😭 lovely

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.

#fic rec #stary kids #skz x reader #skz fluff #i’m not horribly jealous #chris is such a good dad

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djeniryuu · 2 years ago

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Bang Chan (Stray Kids) Fics Recommendations

* - recently updated || 12 July 2024

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2024*

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steddielvr · 2 years ago

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welcome to the family

Pairing: Steve Harrington x Female!Hopper!Reader, Jim Hopper x Daughter!Reader, Eleven Hopper x Sister!Reader

Summary: You invite your boyfriend Steve over for dinner for the first time with your dad and younger sister. (Set between season 2 and 3)

Word Count: 2.1k+

Warnings: extreme fluff, protective!hop&el, Steve being nervous and adorable as per usual

a/n: sooo this fic was my all time favourite fic that i wrote on my old account so i thought it would be perfect to have this be the first one that i reposted. i made some edits and added a few extra scenes and things and i hope you love it!

NOT MY GIF! CREDS TO OWNERS!

You had just finished setting the table with your younger sister whilst your dad worked on getting the food ready when a knock on the door echoed throughout the cabin. The three of you froze, heads shooting up, wide eyes flickering between one another in confusion.

Typically, you would have recognised that knock anywhere, but the months of keeping your sister hidden from the outside world and not letting anyone other than yourself or your dad into the house made you all instinctively alert.

You wrap an arm around Eleven, pulling her protectively into your side as your dad slowly places down the bowl he was holding, making his way from behind the counter towards the front door, fists clenched tightly by his sides.

“Hey, uh, it’s Steve. Am I early?”

Your shoulders instantly relax at the familiar voice, Eleven releasing her tight hold around your waist as she feels the tension leave your body. She looks up at you in surprise and you give her a comforting grin in response, pressing a kiss to her growing hair before heading in the direction of the front door.

However, you pause as you realise that your dad has already beaten you to it. He gives you a smug smirk, ushering you away and signalling that he’ll take care of it and you give him a stern look in response, meaning ‘play nice’.

He rolls his eyes and nods, holding his hands up in defence before turning towards the door. He carefully turns all of the locks, puffs his chest out and swings the door open to reveal your visibly nervous boyfriend, clutching a small bunch of nearly dead flowers in his sweaty hands. He smiles sheepishly at your dad, trying to discreetly wipe his hands off on his jeans.

“Hopper” He nods, before his eyes widen. “I mean Chief-I mean Mr Hopper-I mean sir-I..uh-” He stutters, face turning a light pink. Your dad cuts him off with a laugh disguised as a cough.

“Hopper’s fine, kid” He looks your boyfriend up and down, face emotionless and moves to the side, gesturing for him to come inside.

The brunette gulps and walks inside, stumbling slightly over his feet. El comes to stand beside you, arm returning around your waist. You glance down at her, holding back a laugh at the look of amusement on her face.

“Dinner will be ready shortly,” your dad announces after doing a quick check of the surroundings outside and relocking the door. “If you’ll excuse me.”

Steve nods quickly as Hopper turns, returning to the kitchen, busying himself with cutting up some vegetables for the coming meal. You watch as your boyfriend takes a deep, shaky breath, muttering inaudibly to himself before turning around, starting slightly once he realises he has an audience. His face instantly lights up and relaxes once he registers your warm, welcoming features looking back at him, making his way towards you quickly. God you looked gorgeous.

Your smile widens as he comes closer, blushing as he leans in to shyly peck your cheek before smiling nervously down at Eleven. He clears his throat before hurrying to separate the almost forgotten flowers in his hands into two bunches before holding them out in front of you and El.

“I-uh-I got these for you. Both of you.” He clarifies, smiling gently at you and your sister.

You feel your heart turn to mush at the adorable boy in front of you, taking the first bunch of flowers with a grateful smile. You look towards El, who’s staring wide-eyed up at Steve. You nudge her gently, nodding your head towards the flowers. She takes them carefully, looking down at them in awe before raising her head with a small smile.

“Thank you” She whispers sheepishly, before running over to the kitchen to show Hop.

You look at Steve with a wide grin, his face mirroring your own. You check that your dad’s attention is wholly captured by your sister’s excited presentation of her flowers before reaching over and putting your arms around his shoulders, kissing him quickly.

“You’re too cute!” You gush, squishing his reddening cheeks affectionately. He chuckles at your antics, before his face turns serious.

“Your dad doesn’t like me..” He murmurs, sadness pooling in his brown eyes. You cup his face in your hands, pouting at him before giving him a comforting smile.

“He does.” You reassure, “He’s just protective. They both are” You mumble, looking over to your dad and sister in the kitchen area. You turn your attention back to Steve, who’s looking at you with so much love in his eyes you think you could cry. “Besides, with the amount of times you’ve saved my life over the past two years, there’s no way either of them could hate you.”

He opens his mouth to argue but you pull away from him as you spot your dad walking towards the table with El right behind him, both carrying full plates of food for the four of you. You take Steve’s hand, giving it a gentle squeeze and guide him over to the table.

Hopper and El are already sitting down beside each other, and you move to take the seat across from El before an arm stops you. Steve scrambles to pull your chair out for you, making you giggle softly at his gentlemanly behaviour as you sit down. He takes his place beside you, wiping his clammy hands off again.

You place a hand over his bouncing knee, making him turn his head towards you. You give his knee a squeeze, smiling reassuringly at him. Your dad watches the interaction carefully, the corner of his lips twitching upwards at the sight of his love-struck teen. But he would never let you see that. He clears his throat, catching both of your attentions, and motions towards the food.

“It all looks delicious” Steve praises, afraid to look your dad directly in the eye so opts to turning to Eleven instead. “Did you help make all of this?” he asks, mock surprise in his tone.

Eleven grins and nods, appreciative of her help being recognised, eyes flickering over to you. You wink at her, causing her to let out a giggle.

“Let’s eat, shall we?” Your dad’s tone is harsh and you look at him in shock, raising your eyebrows scoldingly at him. He shrugs his shoulders in response, attention turning to Steve.

“So, Steven,” he begins, tone menacing and face dead serious. “What are your intentions with my eldest daughter?”

“Dad!” You scold, eyebrows knitted in anger.

“Yeah, what are your intentions with my sister?” El mimics, arms crossed over her chest. Your head snaps to your little sister, eyes widening.

“Eleven!” You expect this from your dad, but he’s dragged her into this too?

Steve places a hand over yours, calming you instantly.

“It’s okay” He soothes, before staring directly at Hopper, hand still holding yours.

“Sir, I love your daughter.” He starts, causing you to look over at him in shock. You’d said it to each other before, but the declaration in front of your family surprised you. “All of my intentions are good, I can promise you that. My only goal in our relationship is to make her happy every chance I can get and I know how lucky I am to have her. I would never dream of hurting her and I know we haven’t really talked about it before, but I can’t imagine my future without her in it.” He finishes his speech, now looking at you.

Your eyes are full of tears, your face sporting a wide grin as you gaze at him in awe. You turn to your dad, surprised to see a wide smile on his face too. Glancing at El, her face mirrors his and they look at each other and nod.

He turns back to Steve, holding his hand out over the table. Steve looks at it in surprise, before composing himself and taking it in a firm grip.

“That was a test.” He says. “We wanted to make sure you were good enough for our girl. And now that we see that you are..” He trails off, letting go of his hand and looking down at El with a smile.

“Welcome to our family!” She exclaims, grinning.

Steve looks like he’s about to burst into tears as he looks at you, you squeezing his hand tightly as your expression mirrors his own. You know how much those four little words mean to him, what with his own family being so absent in his life. You turn to your family with a teary laugh.

“Thank you” Steve chokes out, covering his shaky voice with a cough.

Hopper nods with a knowing smile, before gesturing to the food.

“Well, we didn’t slave away in the kitchen all afternoon for this to go to waste. Eat up.” He jokes, nudging his shoulder against El’s. The table erupts into laughter as the four of you dig into your meals, your hand still clutched tightly in Steve’s own.

The remainder of the night is less awkward than the start. The conversation between the four of you flows easily and by the end of the night, you are all laughing together and sharing stories, your dad telling Steve your most embarrassing moments growing up, much to your dismay. Eleven had quickly warmed up to Steve and stayed glued to his side for most of the night, much to your delight.

When it was eventually time for Steve to bid goodnight to you all, your dad gave him an approving pat on the back and thanked him for looking after you when he couldn’t. As Steve made his way to the door, El wrapped him in a warm embrace, making him stumble before returning the embrace with a chuckle. You watched them with watery eyes and a wide smile, thankful that she felt so comfortable around him.

“I’ll walk you out.” You offer as El releases him, ruffling her hair as she walks back past you to join your dad in the living room. You grab a coat from the rack by the door, helping Steve with the many locks before following him out onto the porch.

Your eyes scan the surroundings out of habit before settling on your boyfriend’s glowing features once satisfied that it was safe. You grin at him, shuffling over to wrap your arms around his waist, nestling your head against his warm chest as his arms come up to cocoon you in his embrace. He sighs against your head, chest vibrating with a chuckle as he reaches up to cup your face in his warm hands, proceeding to litter every inch of your face with sloppy kisses.

“Thank you.” he begins, pulling back to smile lovingly at you. “Not just for tonight, but for everything. For choosing me to love and to bring into your family. You’ll never know how thankful I am.”

Your heart warms at his words, shaking your head and cupping his face in your colder hands. “It’s me who should be thanking you. Most people would not be able to handle all of this,” you say, gesturing to the empty space surrounding you and the cabin you call home. “But you don’t even bat an eyelid. And how sweet you were with El...I just-I really love you. So much.”

His smile widens at your words, repeating them back to you without hesitation. He leans in, relieved at finally being able to give you a proper kiss before he is cut off by a loud knock on the glass beside you. Your heads snap to the window and are met with the disapproving glares of your dad and sister, shaking their heads at Steve and waiting until he steps hurriedly back from you before lowering the curtain with matching smirks.

“I guess that’s my cue.” Steve chuckles, hand coming up to rub the back of his neck. “I’ll call you as soon as I’m home.”

You nod, ignoring the fact that your family is probably still watching and rushing over to give him a soft kiss. You smile sheepishly when you pull back for air, chuckling at the expression on Steve’s face. “Sorry. Couldn’t help myself. I’ll be waiting for your call, Stevie.”

He laughs, giving you a mock salute before making his way off of the porch and back towards his car, parked discreetly off to the side of the cabin. You wait until he is safely inside and driving away before heading back through the cabin door and bolting it again. You roll your eyes at the pointed look from your dad and join your sister on the couch, wrapping her into your embrace as your dad chooses a movie for you to watch. You loved your little family to pieces and it made you so happy to know that Steve was welcomed into it with open arms.

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