#taehyun blurbs

[cbeargyu]

the mysterious boy I met yesterday.

summary: after mysteriously traveling to the past, y/n meets yeonjun—a boy she was never meant to love. bound by time and torn by fate, they fall for each other knowing their days are numbered.

pairing: choi yeonjun x fem!reader

tags: time travel, angst, slow burn, romance, emotional hurt/comfort, bittersweet ending (turned sweet).

warnings: grief, trauma, memory loss, mentions of death, emotional distress, hospital scenes, crying, found family, soulmates au.

notes: i recently watched the girl who leapt through time and, as someone who’s always been obsessed with the idea of time travel, i couldn’t stop thinking about it. it left me with that nostalgic ache only stories like that give. so i decided to write my own version of a time-travel romance, loosely inspired by the movie’s premise. i’ve also always had a soft spot for stories set in the late 80s or 90s—there’s something so emotionally raw about that era, so this felt like the perfect blend of everything i love. this fic is very dear to me. i hope it makes your heart ache in the best way.

wc: 19,6k💀💀💀

seoul, 2017.

your last year of high school. new city. new house. same mother.

you spend the entire afternoon unpacking. the house smells like fresh paint and floor polish. the sound of cars and distant sirens floats through the open window as you fold clothes into drawers and pull books out of boxes with quiet precision. your mother’s already out—work, of course.

it’s always work.

you’re halfway through arranging your bookshelf when you notice the small box, shoved at the very back of your closet.

it’s dusty, floral, and closed with a delicate pink ribbon, now faded and fraying at the edges. you pause, frown. you don’t remember packing anything like this.

you hesitate.

but curiosity wins.

you open it slowly, careful not to rip the ribbon. Inside: old letters, photos, movie tickets, and folded stationery that still smells faintly of perfume. you realize this isn’t yours. these are your mother’s things.

you sit down on the floor, cross-legged, and let yourself explore.

among the old documents, tucked inside a faded envelope yellowed by time, you found something unexpected—a marriage certificate.

the paper was brittle, edges frayed and stained with age, but the writing was still legible in parts. your mother’s name was printed clearly: choi nari, written in graceful hangul beside the box labeled bride. but your eyes were drawn to the space marked groom. the name there had been violently scratched out, covered in thick black ink, as if someone had been desperate to erase it.

you remembered, vaguely, a moment from your childhood—your mother once muttering that your father had changed his name to sever ties with his family, something about an inheritance, disapproval, a scandal she never fully explained. the only clue left on the torn paper was a partial surname at the bottom—just enough to read: “...bin.” the rest was lost. after his death, your mother had legally reclaimed her maiden name, kim, burying his memory under years of silence. but now, holding this document in your hands, the pieces began to tremble in your chest—uncertain, unresolved.

the letters are written in your mother’s neat cursive, signed with hearts. there are photos, grainy and sun-kissed, showing young faces in school uniforms laughing in courtyards, holding umbrellas in the rain, posing with peace signs.

you start flipping them, one by one. no names. just dates on the back.

until you find the last one.

it’s your mom. her hair is longer, parted and soft around her face. she’s wearing a high school uniform, standing with a boy slightly taller than her. his hands are clasped behind his back. they aren’t touching—but the tension between them feels real. tender. almost sacred.

you turn the photo over.

March 15th, 1991 – my first love, Choi Soobin.

your breath catches.

you read the name again.

choi soobin?

you’ve never heard that name before. not once. and your mother doesn’t just forget names—she erases them. just like your father. just like everything else.

you slide the picture back into the box, hands slightly trembling, and stash the whole thing deep in the back of your closet. you don’t throw it away. no—you’re not ready for that.

you want to ask her.

but you’ll wait for the right time.

one week later...

that night, you come home late from another day of school. it wasn’t terrible, just... lonely. your new classmates were polite but distant. you introduced yourself with a fake smile, laughed at the right moments. you’re good at pretending.

the place is quiet. too quiet.

dinner is quiet.

you sit at the kitchen island in an oversized hoodie, legs tucked up on the stool, hair still damp from the shower. a reheated bowl of rice and kimchi stew steams in front of you, but you’re not really hungry. you scoop at it absentmindedly as the soft glow of the television flickers across the small living room.

the news is on.

the anchor’s voice is calm, too calm for the words she’s saying.

"today marks the 25th anniversary of one of the country’s most devastating railway accidents... the train, traveling from seoul to incheon, derailed shortly in the afternoon, resulting in the death of all passengers aboard. rescue efforts lasted several days. one individual was never found."

your chopsticks freeze mid-air.

the image that flashes on screen—a twisted rail line, charred metal, grieving families—makes your stomach twist. you swallow hard, suddenly nauseous.

"how awful…" you whisper to yourself.

etched in the corner of the grainy footage was the date of the tragedy: november 12th, 1992.

a strange, unexplainable ache blooms in your chest. It lingers for a second too long.

you grab the remote.

click.

click again.

cartoons fill the screen—bright, loud, ridiculous. a character falls face-first into a pie. you force a laugh and shove a spoonful of rice into your mouth, but the food tastes like paper.

you pretend it’s fine.

you pretend everything is fine.

the door clicks open.

you turn your head.

your mother walks in, heels clicking softly against the hardwood floor, blouse crisp, makeup untouched despite the hour. she always looks like she’s heading into court—even at 9 p.m.

she doesn’t say hello.

she walks straight to the kitchen, opens the fridge, and pulls out the container of stew. you watch her in silence as she spoons food into a bowl and places it in the microwave, her back turned to you.

when she finally faces you, she raises one perfectly shaped eyebrow.

"what’s with the face?" she asks, blunt as always.

you blink, then smile nervously.

"i found something today. while unpacking."

her hands stop. just for a second.

"it was this box. really cute. floral. tied with a ribbon. it was buried in my stuff, but it wasn’t mine. i think it was yours."

you pause.

"there were letters… photos. one of them caught my eye. you were in your school uniform, next to this guy. you looked… happy. it had a date on the back. march 15th, 1991."

you smile, hesitant.

"it said… ‘my first love.’”

your mother straightens up slowly, staring at you with an expression you can’t read.

"you went through my things?"

"it was in my things. i thought it was mine at first, i just—"

"you shouldn't go through what isn't yours."

her voice is ice.

"you had no right to open that."

"it was in my room!"

"it wasn’t yours!"

"how was i supposed to know that?! i thought maybe it was something you left for me—god knows you never leave anything else.”

her expression hardens.

"don’t turn this into something it’s not."

"something it’s not?!" your voice breaks, raw and high. "you never talk about anything. not about your life. not about him. not about dad!"

that name hits like a bullet.

she turns her back to you, but it’s too late.

"i don’t remember him," you say, quieter now, but trembling. "i don’t remember his voice, his hands, his laugh. i don’t even know what it felt like to be held by him."

she doesn’t turn. she doesn’t move.

"i had to memorize his face from one picture—one, mom—before you threw it out like garbage!"

her fists clench on the counter, knuckles white.

"i did what i had to do."

"no. you did what was easier for you. you pushed everything down and shut me out with it."

she spins to face you, eyes wild now, cracking.

"what do you want me to say?! that i was broken?! that every day i woke up alone, wondering how to feed you, how to work, how to breathe while everything i loved was gone?!"

you flinch.

but you don’t back down.

"i didn’t ask you to be perfect. i just wanted a mother. not a robot. not a cold wall. just someone who gave a damn."

her lip trembles. she hides it behind a scoff.

"you think i don’t care?"

"you don’t act like it!"

the words cut, sharp and true.

"i needed you, mom. all these years, i needed someone to tell me it was okay to miss him. to miss you."

her eyes shine with something unsaid. something heavy. but she swallows it back down.

she always does.

"you shouldn’t have opened that box."

her voice is flat again. walls up. steel drawn.

you laugh bitterly.

"right. god forbid i see even a glimpse of who you used to be before you turned to stone."

you push the stool back with a screech and storm off toward your room, throat burning, chest hollow.

behind you, your mother stands frozen in the kitchen, bowl untouched, stew long gone cold.

the door slams shut behind you, the sound dull but heavy, like a sentence being passed.

you stand still for a moment, your hands still trembling, your heart in shambles after the fight with your mother. the entire house feels like it’s holding its breath, as if it too sensed that something inside you just broke… again.

you walk slowly to your room, dragging your feet, your chest aching with a pain that’s too familiar. you collapse onto your bed, not even crying at first—just lying there, staring at the ceiling, as if the cracks in the paint might give you some kind of answer.

why can’t she just talk to me? why does it feel like she hates me?

the questions pile up, pressing down on your chest until that lump in your throat finally bursts. the first tears fall quietly, warm against your cheeks. then more come, and more, until you're curled in on yourself, sobbing with that kind of grief that comes from years of swallowing it down.

you hear your own voice echoing back at you:

"i had to memorize his face from one picture—one, mom—before you threw it out like garbage!"

it still hurts. and it’s true. your father died shortly after you were born. you don’t remember him—his voice, his scent, the way he held you. nothing. your mother never wanted to talk about him, as if erasing him would protect her from the pain.

but it left you with an emptiness.

you wipe your face with your sleeve, eyes puffy, nose red, and sit up slowly. still shaking, you walk to your closet.

it’s there.

the box.

that wooden box with the delicate, girlish design, half-hidden among your things, like it’s been waiting for this very moment.

you hold it in your hands. It’s heavier than it looks. the surface is slightly warm, as if someone had touched it recently—like it has a heartbeat.

you kneel in front of the open closet. your clothes sway lightly on their hangers, as if a breeze had passed through… but there are no windows open.

then you feel it.

the air shifts.

it starts as a soft vibration, barely there, like the whisper of a memory. then the scent hits you: something floral, old, like perfume soaked into love letters tucked away for decades. goosebumps rise instantly across your skin.

you squint into the closet, through the folds of hanging fabric, and you see it.

light.

a faint golden shimmer, pulsing gently, like someone lit a candle behind the wall.

you step forward, the box still in your hands. your fingers, trembling, press against the doorframe. just as you open your mouth to speak—maybe to ask what’s happening—

a single tear falls from your cheek and lands on the box.

there’s no explosion. no lightning.

just a heartbeat.

loud.

deep.

like the whole world exhaling through your chest.

the air grows heavy. your vision warps, the room tilting, folding in on itself. the walls ripple like water disturbed. you grab the edge of the closet for balance, but your knees buckle. everything spins. the sound of your breath is swallowed by something bigger.

and then—

darkness.

the spring air carried that distinct scent of dust, freshly sharpened pencils, and the faint trace of someone’s perfume lingering in the hallways. the school buzzed with life—lockers slamming shut, giggles echoing down the corridor, chalk scraping across boards in classrooms behind closed doors.

you walked slowly, your fingers tightening around the straps of your bag. your school uniform felt unfamiliar against the skin, the pleated skirt too stiff, the blouse too crisp. you kept your head low, eyes scanning faces that looked like they belonged in old photo albums. everything around your screamed nostalgia—except it wasn’t nostalgic to you.

because somehow...

you were actually here.

in 1991.

the bell rang, signaling the end of second period. students poured out into the hallway, some dragging their friends by the arm, others glued to books or snacks from their lockers. you leaned against a wall, trying to breathe, trying to blend in—trying not to freak out.

that’s when you saw him.

he moved through the crowd like he wasn’t part of it. calm. unbothered. a little detached. he wore the same school uniform, but his shirt was slightly untucked, and the headphones resting around his neck gave him this effortless, rebel-cool aura. a soft beat leaked from his walkman. his features were sharp, perfectly carved, lips full and eyes that looked like they knew things they weren’t supposed to.

he stopped in front of you, holding a thick envelope in one hand.

"y/n, right?" he asked, voice low and smooth.

you blinked, nodding slowly, your brain still trying to keep up.

"this came from the main office," he said, offering her the envelope. "you're transfer paperwork, apparently."

before you could even respond, you blurted out:

"wait—do you know someone named choi soobin?"

his eyes twitched. his expression shifted—barely—but it was there. a flicker of something.

then, with the most unimpressed smirk, he rolled his eyes.

"oh great," he muttered under his breath. "another one of my cousin's admirers. they just keep coming."

and just like that, he turned and walked away, sliding the headphones back over his ears, music rising in volume as he vanished into the tide of students.

you clutched the envelope to you chest, heart pounding. you looked around, dazed, but no one was paying you any mind.

once you found an empty bench behind the old gym building, you sat and opened the envelope with trembling fingers. inside was more than just a transfer form.

there was a letter.

it was handwritten. neatly. carefully. and it read:

"if you’re reading this, it means you made it. welcome to 1991. you’ll need to be careful from here on out. you cannot draw attention to yourself. do not talk about the future. do not ask too many questions. blend in. play your part. Go to the boarding house owned by mrs. son after school. she’s expecting a new girl. room 3 is yours." this is not random. you’re here for a reason. i will send more instructions soon. don’t trust just anyone. and above all… be ready to make difficult choices. some things in the past are meant to stay broken. others… need to be fixed. —a friend".

you stared at the letter, hands trembling.

what the hell was this?

why you?

what were you meant to fix?

you leaned back against the wall, looking up at the sky, your thoughts a chaotic mess.

your mind drifted to the photograph.

to her mother’s smile.

to the name: choi soobin.

and then… you eyes fell back on the letter.

was this real?

was this destiny?

your fingers brushed over the ink once more, and you whispered, almost to yourself:

"what am i supposed to change…?"

the final bell rings, and you stumble out of your last class like your brain’s just gone through a blender.

your head spins.

not just from the math formulas on the chalkboard or the endless chatter of your new classmates—but from the reality you still haven’t quite processed.

you’re in incheon. in 1991. in your mother’s freaking hometown.

the streets outside the school are buzzing with students. some run toward the corner shops for snacks, others grab their bikes, wave at friends, shout and laugh like nothing in the world has changed.

you, on the other hand, can barely keep your balance.

you blink slowly, your body moving on autopilot, trying to look casual, like you belong. but everything around you feels… off.

the way they talk.

the way they think.

the weird obsession with cassette tapes and soda in glass bottles.

even the smell in the air is different—less metal, more earth.

you’re overwhelmed. but you can’t fall apart yet.

you’ve got instructions. a destination.

you're still holding that damn envelope like it’s your last lifeline.

you turn a corner, heart pounding, and almost crash straight into someone.

“woah, again?”

it’s him.

the boy from earlier.

same walkman around his neck, same flawless face, same i-don’t-care energy wrapped in a school uniform that somehow fits him too well.

he eyes you with amused disbelief.

“are you seriously still carrying that?” he says, pointing to the envelope in your hands. “you’ve had that thing all day.”

you blink at him, still disoriented.

you have had it all day.

“i—i was going to read it again,” you mumble. “there’s an address. i’m supposed to go there but i don’t know how—”

“ugh,” he interrupts, sighing dramatically. “fine. lemme see it.”

you hand him the letter, fingers brushing his just for a second. his eyes skim the address, then glance back at you.

“i’ll take you. that place isn’t far.”

you exhale in relief, muttering a soft thank you.

you start walking together.

at first, it’s silent.

then the boy starts talking, throwing random comments into the air like confetti.

“you talk kinda weird, you know that?” you look at him. he’s not wrong.

you’ve spent all day trying not to sound futuristic. no slang. no weird expressions. no “lol”.

you force a smile.

“i’m not from here.”

“no kidding.”

“i mean—not from incheon.”

he raises a brow.

“then where?”

you scramble for a name and blurt out the most far-off place you can think of.

“ulleungdo.”

he stops walking and turns to look at you, blinking.

“ulleungdo? that island barely has electricity.”

you nod slowly, then force a cough like it explains everything.

“exactly. we’re... still catching up.”

he stares at you like you’re a walking mystery, then shakes his head and chuckles.

“makes sense. that explains why you look like you’ve never seen a vending machine before.”

you both keep walking.

for a second, the air is easier to breathe. almost normal.

but then, your mind slips—just for a second—and you ask:

“hey… who’s your cousin?”

he squints.

“what?”

“earlier. You said i was ‘another one in love with your cousin.’ who is he?”

he rolls his eyes, clearly annoyed.

“ugh. choi soobin. everyone’s obsessed with him. he’s perfect this, perfect that—blah blah blah.”

your heart stops.

soobin.

your mother’s first love.

you freeze mid-step. he walks two paces ahead before realizing you’re no longer beside him.

he turns around, eyes narrowing.

“why do you look like you’ve seen a ghost?”

you force a shaky laugh.

“no reason. just… remembering something.”

he looks at you for a long moment, then shrugs.

“whatever. just don’t ask me where he is. i’m not your tour guide to the ‘soobin fanclub.’”

you say nothing.

the letter in your hand suddenly feels heavier. like it’s burning.

you wonder what’s waiting for you in that house.

you wonder who wrote the letter.

you wonder if fate is playing games with you—or if this has always been the plan.

you walk the rest of the way in silence, the streets of incheon glowing in the golden haze of dusk.

and somewhere, deep down, something tells you: this is only the beginning.

the street narrows as you follow him down an alley of uneven cobblestones, the golden dusk pouring through the lattice of tangled telephone wires above. the neighborhood is quiet—older, slower than the city blocks around your school. the homes here wear age like a badge, wooden gates slightly weathered, tiled roofs sagging slightly under the weight of time. you pause outside a low two-story house with faded red shutters and a blue mailbox shaped like a cat.

the boy nods toward it.

“this is the place.”

you look at it, blinking in disbelief.

it’s not just any house.

it feels like a storybook. like someone reached into your memories and tried to replicate what “home” should’ve looked like.

the wooden gate creaks when he pushes it open, and before either of you can step forward, the front door swings wide with surprising force.

an old woman, short and sturdy with perfectly permed gray curls and dressed in a floral hanbok apron, stands in the doorway.

her face lights up when she sees you.

“ah! you must be mr. hong’s niece, where are you from, little girl?”

you freeze. then bow quickly, hands by your sides, trying to remember every etiquette lesson your mom ever mentioned about greeting elders in korea.

“yes, ma’am. that’s me, i am from ulleungdo"

mrs. son eyes you up and down, then lets out a soft chuckle.

“you’re awfully pretty for a country girl. and different. too polished. hm.” her eyes narrow. “still, you look good. very lovely, actually.”

you’re not sure whether to smile or feel insulted. was that a compliment? or just passive-aggressive commentary wrapped in lace?

you smile awkwardly and bow again.

“thank you…”

“anyway,” she continues, waving her hand, “someone dropped off your belongings this morning. they’re in your room already.”

your heart skips.

“my belongings?”

you glance at the boy, confused. he just shrugs, completely uninterested in the mystery.

but your mind races.

what belongings?

when you arrived here—wherever here even is—you had nothing. not even the clothes on your back, which had changed without you realizing.

before you can ask more, yeonjun steps back, hands shoved in his blazer pockets.

“well, i got you here. i’m out.”

“wait—!” you call out, stepping toward him.

he’s already at the gate, lifting it slightly so it doesn’t scrape. you rush after him, your shoes crunching on the gravel path.

“you never told me your name.”

he stops mid-step and turns, looking slightly amused.

“I didn’t?”

“no.” you reach for his arm gently, fingers brushing against his wrist. his skin is warm, his pulse quick beneath your fingertips.

yeonjun looks down at where you’re touching him. his eyebrows lift. a tiny smirk threatens the corner of his mouth, like he’s not used to girls being this forward—and definitely not ones who stare at him like you do.

“yeonjun” he said. “choi yeonjun"

you meet his eyes.

“thank you, yeonjun.”

it’s the way you say it. soft. sincere. like it matters.

he’s caught off guard, the confident, untouchable energy around him faltering for just a second. his mouth opens slightly, like he wants to say something, but then he shuts it again and just gives you a small nod.

“don’t get lost.”

and with that, he slips out the gate, turning the corner and disappearing into the fading light.

you’re left standing in the path, the sky streaked with orange and plum above you, a dusty breeze rustling the loose ends of your borrowed school uniform.

behind you, the house waits.

inside it, a room with your things. dropped off by someone who knows exactly where—and when—you are.

and somewhere, tucked inside your thoughts like a whisper you haven’t heard yet, a name echoes.

soobin.

the boy your mother once loved.

you exhale slowly and turn back toward the house.

the room is small but cozy, with warm wooden walls and a low ceiling that creaks softly under your footsteps. you close the door behind you, leaning against it for a second, your heart pounding—still not from the walk, but from everything. the entire day. the time jump. the unfamiliar warmth in yeonjun’s voice when he said your name. the letter burning a silent promise in your hands.

you glance at the small suitcase perched neatly at the foot of the futon bed. It looks old-fashioned—stitched leather with tarnished brass buckles and a handle that has seen better days. kneeling before it, you slowly open the latches, the sound loud in the quiet of the room.

inside, folded with surgical precision, are several sets of clothes.

your fingertips run across the fabrics: simple blouses, high-waisted pleated skirts, a pastel pink cardigan, a cream-colored sailor-style school uniform that looks almost identical to the ones you saw the other girls wearing today. everything smells faintly of lavender and time.

at the very bottom, nestled between a pair of plain flats and a pair of canvas shoes, you find a small envelope with your name written in neat, slanted hangul. you lift it gently, your breath hitching.

you sit on the edge of the bed, feeling the mattress dip beneath your weight, and unfold the letter.

the handwriting is delicate, old-fashioned. like someone took the time to write it with an ink pen, letting every word sink into the fibers of the paper.

"y/n, you must be confused. stay calm. there is a reason you are here. follow the instructions i send you. you are in the year 1991, in incheon—the city where your mother grew up. things are not as simple as they seem, but you mustn’t let anyone know the truth. you will blend in. your belongings have been provided. more will come. every step you take will be guided. do not ask questions you’re not ready to hear the answers to. there are things in the past that need your presence. be patient. be brave. soon, i will ask you to change something. until then… wait." -H.

your hands tremble slightly as you finish reading.

a chill runs down your spine.

who wrote this? how did they know where you’d arrive? why do they speak like they’ve done this before?

you fold the letter slowly, slipping it back into the envelope. your mind reels, swimming with questions that claw at you from every direction. there’s no logic, no explanation. one moment you were crying in your closet, and the next… here. in a world you’ve only heard about from your mother’s fading stories, wrapped in decades-old nostalgia and distant memories.

you don’t realize how long you’ve sat there, dazed, until a voice calls out from downstairs.

“dinner time, girl! come eat before it gets cold!”

mrs. son’s voice, clear and commanding, startles you into motion. you rise, smoothing your borrowed skirt, tucking the letter under your pillow like a secret you’re not ready to share with even the walls.

When you step into the kitchen, you’re met with the scent of something savory, thick and warm and unfamiliar. the room is bathed in soft golden light from a low-hanging bulb, casting everything in a nostalgic glow. mrs. son stands behind a small wooden table, setting down bowls and plates with practiced ease.

you stare at the food, recognizing almost nothing but finding it all intoxicatingly fragrant. there’s bubbling jjigae, a perfectly round plate of jeon with scallions poking through the golden batter, neatly arranged namul side dishes, and a mound of rice that glistens as if each grain were kissed by steam.

“don’t just stand there like a scarecrow,” she chuckles, motioning for you to sit. “eat, girl. you need energy. you’re too pale.”

you sit slowly, murmuring a thank you, and begin to eat. the first spoonful of stew burns your tongue but floods your chest with warmth. each bite is an exploration, a memory you never lived tasting its way into your bloodstream.

between spoonfuls, mrs. son starts talking—not directly to you, but more like letting the stories she’s carried her whole life spill into the air.

“you remind me of someone, you know. a woman who stayed in this house years ago. pretty thing. big eyes like yours. she was in love.”

you look up, surprised.

“she fell for a sailor,” she continues, “a local boy with a wild laugh and a heart full of the sea. he promised her the world. even got her a ring. but…”

she pauses to sip her barley tea.

“…before they could marry, his boat went down. storm off the coast. they say he drowned. some say he never wanted to return and used the sea as an excuse.”

she smiles sadly.

“but i saw her every night on that porch, waiting. right up until winter took her away too.”

you set down your chopsticks, the story making your chest feel tight.

a part of you aches for this woman you’ve never met.

a part of you wonders if the sea has a habit of stealing men who promise forever.

you stare down at your bowl, your appetite gone.

nothing makes sense.

not the past.

not the stories.

not your own existence in this strange, beautiful fragment of time.

the only thing you know for sure is this:

you’re not here by accident.

and someone, somewhere, is watching.

the day was already strange enough.

the 90s school uniform felt tight in places it shouldn’t, your socks kept sliding down no matter how many times you pulled them up, and your ponytail was starting to come loose from all the running around trying to figure out where your classroom was. you were still trying to adjust to the rhythm of this strange new world — a world that smelled like chalk dust, cassette tapes, and kimchi stew floating through the hallways.

you were walking through the back courtyard of the school, holding a borrowed notebook to your chest, when you missed the curb.

you fell.

it wasn’t elegant.

you hit the concrete hard, knees and elbows scraping against the rough ground. your notebook flew a meter ahead, your bag tipped over, and just as you tried to push yourself up, a sudden gust of wind blew from behind. and just your luck — you were wearing the uniform skirt that flared out slightly when you walked.

now, it flared up.

wide. high. completely.

right in front of a boy.

not just any boy.

his eyes widened comically as he froze mid-step, staring for a split second — a dangerous, deadly split second — before whipping his head to the side, red creeping across his neck all the way to his ears. He stumbled back with his arms up as if you were pointing a gun at him.

you screamed.

“YAH! don’t just stand there like a pervert — HELP ME!”

your voice cracked from the sudden mix of pain, panic, and fury. the boy flinched as if slapped, then scrambled forward, offering a trembling hand.

“i–i wasn’t trying to see anything!” he stammered, clearly about to pass out from sheer embarrassment. “the wind—! it just—! i didn’t—!”

you ignored his babbling, more concerned with your burning face and aching knees. but as he helped you stand, you got a good look at his face. that face.

the perfectly shaped lips, the soft, clean skin, the dark brows, the long lashes casting shadows across his cheeks... and those eyes.

those exact eyes from the photo.

your mother’s photo.

it was him. choi soobin.

in the flesh. younger, alive, real.

you gasped.

he tilted his head. “are you okay? you look pale—”

before you could respond, a loud thud interrupted the moment.

a soccer ball came flying out of nowhere and hit soobin square in the face.

he made a startled sound before falling flat on his back.

you stared at his sprawled form on the ground. “what the hell—?!”

moments later, both of you sat side by side in the school infirmary. the scent of alcohol pads and ointment filled the air. you were perched on the edge of a stiff bed, rubbing antiseptic into your scraped knees, wincing each time it stung. beside you, soobin sat with tissues crammed up his nostrils, his head tilted back and a faint blush still clinging to his cheeks.

the nurse — a woman with overly plucked, razor-thin brows, blunt bangs curled under with all the strength of a hot iron, and lips lined in dark brown pencil — shook her head.

“thank goodness it’s not broken,” she sighed, inspecting soobin’s nose. “you boys with your sports… always causing accidents. and you”—she turned to you—“keep your skirt down next time, young lady. what do you think this is, a fashion show?”

you blinked, mouth falling open in disbelief.

this place… this time… these people.

it was like you had fallen into a very vivid, sometimes painful, sometimes embarrassing dream. and now, the boy from your mother’s past was sitting beside you, sniffling through a nosebleed.

and you still had no idea what you were doing here.

soobin blinked at you, still slightly dazed from the hit. his nose was no longer bleeding, but the tissue stuffed under his nostrils made him look even more like the schoolboy he was. you were about to say something—maybe thank him, maybe apologize, maybe ask if he was okay—when the infirmary door creaked open.

“bin!” came a familiar voice, far too loud for the sterile silence of the room.

yeonjun.

he stepped in with an armful of paper bags and small boxes—colorful wrappings, handwritten notes, tiny trinkets peeking through. gifts. you watched as he strutted over to soobin’s bed with an exasperated groan.

"seriously? you just got here and you’re already collecting fans again?” he teased, tossing one of the bags onto soobin’s lap. “what is it this time—handmade chocolates or love letters?”

soobin groaned and rolled his eyes, muttering something about it being a misunderstanding, but you weren’t listening anymore.

yeonjun had looked up. His eyes landed on yours. recognition flashed across his face like lightning.

“you—”

he didn’t finish. he just stood there, blinking, mouth slightly parted like the pieces of his memory were trying to click together.

you didn’t think. you just acted.

ignoring the sting of your scraped knees, you jumped off the bed. the linoleum was cold beneath your socks, but your voice came out warm, too bright, too casual.

"hey, um… yeonjun, right?” you said quickly, your cheeks heating under his stare. “do you want to grab something to eat or… i mean, you helped me earlier and i—well, i don’t know anyone else here.”

he looked confused at first, almost suspicious. then a grin tugged at the corner of his lips. “you sure? you're not gonna faint on me or something?”

you laughed, awkward and real. “i’ll try not to.”

he shrugged. “fine. you’re lucky i’m hungry too.”

so the two of you walked out of the infirmary side by side. the late afternoon light spilled down the corridor in golden streaks, warming the tile beneath your feet. the air smelled faintly of antiseptic and school uniforms.

you were just about to ask him where he thought you could find something sweet from a local bakery when—

click. click. click.

footsteps. fast. familiar.

you turned at the sound, heart stuttering. your eyes caught a silhouette at the end of the hallway, the light from the windows casting her in soft profile.

it was her.

your mother.

but not as you knew her.

she was younger. smaller. her hair was long and tied half-up with a little bow. she wore the school uniform, the same one you had seen in the photograph. she didn’t look like a stern, cold lawyer. she looked like a girl.

she giggled. and then you heard his laugh.

soobin’s.

they stepped into the infirmary together, talking—laughing. you couldn’t hear the words, just the sounds, but it was enough to send a strange ache through your chest.

you had never heard her laugh like that before.

not in your life.

not once.

and in that moment, as yeonjun rambled beside you about the best tteokbokki stand near the school gates, you couldn't even process a word.

your stomach twisted.

your mother. soobin. that laugh. that moment.

and you—

you were caught between two worlds.

the red broth bubbled quietly in the small metal pot between you. the scent of chili, garlic, and sweetness filled the air as you leaned over the table, watching the glistening rice cakes dance in the simmering sauce. yeonjun, sitting across from you in his white school shirt with the sleeves rolled up, poked at one of them with a wooden skewer and raised his brow at you.

“you ever tried tteokbokki before?” he asked, eyes flickering with curiosity as he blew softly on the piece.

you shook your head, almost too eagerly. “not like this,” you murmured after the first bite, eyes widening. the heat was perfect, the chewiness addictive, and the flavor—intense but somehow comforting. “god… it's actually good. like really good. everything back in my—” you caught yourself, heartbeat spiking, “—my time is just so artificial and bland. like, processed. rancid, almost.”

yeonjun tilted his head, mouth halfway open with the next bite. “your time?” he echoed, blinking slowly, his eyes narrowing in suspicion.

your breath caught in your throat. shit.

“i mean—my town! my town,” you laughed, too quickly, waving your hands. “back in my town. it's really rural and… old-fashioned, i guess? i’ve been studying a lot of history too for exams. i read so much about the different historical eras, i think the word ‘time’ just slipped in.” you forced another laugh and stuffed your mouth with a rice cake, cheeks burning.

yeonjun stared for a second longer than was comfortable, and then snorted. “you’re weird,” he muttered around his own bite, though his lips curled into a faint smile. “but you’ve got a point. food tastes better before the big corporations mess it up.”

you nodded quickly, relieved at the shift. the tension melted a bit between the spice and the conversation, the kind that warms not just your stomach but something deeper—something that makes the loneliness of waking up in the wrong decade feel just a little less heavy.

as you sat across from yeonjun, the last few pieces of tteokbokki slowly disappeared from the pot. the spicy warmth lingered on your lips, but your mind was far from the food. you couldn’t stop replaying that scene in your head—your mother’s laughter, sweet and girlish, echoing behind the infirmary doors. and beside her, soobin, smiling back like they were already familiar with each other.

you chewed slowly, lost in thought, until the question slipped out before you could stop it.

“what’s soobin like?”

yeonjun looked up sharply, brow raised, a teasing smirk forming on his lips. “oh? so now we’re talking about him?”

you blinked. “no, no—it’s not like that.”

“right,” he said, drawing the word out, clearly not believing you. “let me guess—you’re using me to get close to him?”

your jaw dropped. “what? no! It’s not even for me.” you scrambled for an excuse, mind racing. “it’s for… my friend. she’s interested in him. but she doesn’t really know how to approach him. so i was just curious. you know… to help her.”

yeonjun leaned back, arms crossed, clearly amused. “a friend, huh?”

you nodded quickly, trying to keep your face neutral. “yeah. she’s… shy.”

he squinted, eyes narrowing like he was trying to read through your soul. “well, if you want the truth… he’s a total playboy,” he said with a completely serious expression.

your heart dropped. “really?”

yeonjun burst out laughing, almost choking on his soda. “god, you’re so gullible.”

you glared at him, cheeks heating up. “you’re such a jerk.”

he wiped a tear from the corner of his eye, still grinning. “no, seriously. he’s just a normal guy. chill, kind of awkward sometimes, but popular. everyone likes him. probably because of his face,” he added with a playful grimace. “also… his parents are loaded. like, seriously old money. but he doesn’t act stuck up about it or anything.”

you nodded slowly, absorbing every word. soobin… a boy born in privilege, admired by many, and yet—somehow—your mother had laughed beside him like they shared something deeper. you stared down at your drink, the fizz catching the light.

if soobin was already so adored… did that mean your mother had been one of his admirers too?

a strange ache bloomed in your chest, something between curiosity and dread.

you twirled a piece of tteokbokki with your chopsticks, still digesting everything yeonjun had said about soobin. the conversation had taken a strange turn, light and teasing at first—but your mind couldn’t let go of something he’d just casually mentioned.

“if soobin’s parents are rich,” you started, voice careful, “and they’re your uncles… then your parents must be rich too, right?”

the moment the question left your mouth, you felt the air shift. yeonjun's expression changed—subtle, but impossible to miss. his gaze dropped to the table, and he took a deep breath, the usual spark in his eyes dimming.

you opened your mouth, instantly regretting it, but he spoke first. “i live with my grandmother.”

that wasn’t what you expected.

you blinked. “with your parents too?”

he shook his head slowly. “no. just her.”

you rushed to fix your words, hands slightly raised. “i mean, that’s not weird or anything. a lot of families live with their grandparents. it just makes the family bigger, right? i only live with my mom and—”

he interrupted, voice calm, but distant. “my parents died.”

the words hit like a brick wall. your breath caught in your throat.

“it was a plane crash. when i was ten. they were coming back from the u.s.,” he continued, his voice softer now. “they’d been checking out places to live because we were supposed to move there together. but the plane… didn’t make it.”

silence blanketed the table like a thick fog. even the sounds of the street outside—distant laughter, scooters, the clink of bowls—felt suddenly muted.

you looked down at your lap, unsure what to say, but before you could even mutter an apology, yeonjun smiled. not forced, not bitter—just… gentle.

“it’s okay,” he said, looking up again. “i’m happy. my grandma takes good care of me. she runs a barbecue restaurant nearby. you should come by sometime. i’ll sneak you extra meat.”

your heart ached a little at his warmth. he was so open, so strong, despite everything.

you forced a small smile, eyes searching his face. “how old are you?”

“i’ll be eighteen soon,” he said, straightening a little with pride. “last year of high school. next year, i’m taking the csat. gonna try for a university in seoul.”

“that’s impressive,” you said genuinely.

“yeah, well… someone’s gotta get out of incheon,” he grinned, and the mood lightened just a bit again.

you didn’t know what to say after that, so you just kept eating, the tteokbokki no longer hot but still comforting. and all the while, your thoughts wandered—about soobin, about your mother, about how the hell you'd ended up here. but more than anything… you found yourself wondering just who choi yeonjun really was underneath all those layers.

that night, the air in incheon was unusually still.

you walked slowly down the quiet streets, your belly full of spicy tteokbokki and your mind spinning from yeonjun’s unexpected vulnerability. it had left a mark on you—how easily he smiled through pain. and the way he talked about soobin, half mocking, half affectionate… it made your chest tighten again. your mother’s laughter echoed in your ears, youthful and bright like wind chimes, paired with soobin’s soft chuckle. a sound you never imagined you’d hear.

you paused just outside the small gate of the son house, your temporary home in the past. the night air carried scents of distant grilling meat and flowers you couldn’t name. everything felt unfamiliar and familiar all at once. stepping inside, you slid the door shut gently behind you and walked up to your room.

but the moment you pushed open the door, your breath hitched.

there, neatly placed on your pillow, was another envelope. cream-colored, slightly yellowed like old parchment. your fingers trembled a little as you picked it up, the weight of the paper oddly heavy in your hands.

you sat on the floor, your back to the wall, and opened it slowly.

inside was a single folded sheet. elegant, slanted handwriting greeted you.

"there are things that must happen in their rightful time, and you are here to ensure they do. do not underestimate the importance of choi soobin. the first love always leaves the deepest mark." — H.

you stared at the letter for a long time.

your heart thudded violently in your chest.

choi soobin. the name might as well have been carved into your skin at this point.

was this… was he the reason you were sent here?

the connection to your mother felt too strong to ignore. her maiden name. that tragic love story mrs. son had told you earlier—the one about the sailor and the girl he never got to marry. was that somehow related?

was soobin him?

you reached for the tattered marriage certificate you'd found hidden in your mother’s things earlier. the ink-smudged name of the groom was still unreadable. all you had was a surname—choi. and now, soobin. was it all falling into place? or was your mind inventing connections where none existed?

you pressed your head back against the wall, eyes fluttering closed. “this can’t be real…” you whispered.

you hadn’t even had time to question how you ended up here. one moment you were in your mother’s room, digging through old boxes of memories, and the next… thrown into a version of korea you’d only read about in textbooks. no explanation. no instructions. Just instincts and heartbeats.

and now letters?

your thoughts swirled in chaos, and for the first time since arriving, your resolve faltered.

what if messing with the past had consequences?

what if you were the reason your mother’s love story ended in heartbreak?

what if you were supposed to stop something… or start it?

you pulled your knees to your chest, pressing the letter against your mouth to stifle the rising panic. the room was dark, quiet, humming with a kind of stillness that only came before storms.

and somewhere deep down, you knew:

whatever mission brought you here... it was only beginning.

time moved differently here.

days passed like water slipping through your fingers—slow and heavy, yet gone before you could truly grasp them. you’d started to adapt. your accent had softened, your posture adjusted. you walked with your hands folded in front of you like the other girls. you learned to bow at the right angle, to accept the stares without flinching, and to hide the flicker of your modern instincts when someone used a phrase you’d only seen in dusty textbooks.

in a way, you became someone new. but you never stopped looking over your shoulder, never stopped clutching the growing stack of letters from mr. hong like lifelines.

the latest one arrived tucked between the pages of a history book in the school library, hidden where only you would look. the handwriting, as always, was precise and calm—like a teacher’s, or perhaps a soldier’s.

“it is time to begin. you must guide your mother. help her open her heart to choi soobin. but beware—any alteration of their bond may cause irreversible changes to the future." H.

you read the letter three times, the words branded into your thoughts.

it made your heart ache with confusion.

soobin. always soobin.

you hadn’t seen much of him. he was in a different class, and so was your mother. both of them seemed to float in and out of your orbit like stars you couldn’t quite reach. you’d catch glimpses in the hallway—soobin, surrounded by classmates, a quiet but steady force of gravity. your mother, younger and nothing like the sharp, tired woman you grew up with. she was shy, always fidgeting with her sleeves, eyes lowered, cheeks turning pink when someone said her name.

and yeonjun… yeonjun had become your anchor.

you still didn’t know how it had happened, but one day, you were laughing at his terrible drawing of a teacher during lunch break, and the next, you couldn’t imagine surviving this world without him. he was the only one who could pull you back from the anxiety of feeling like you didn’t belong. the only one who let you be your strange, out-of-place self and still grinned like he was lucky to know you.

but that letter.

that letter twisted your insides.

because if you helped your mother fall in love with soobin… what would that mean for you?

would you vanish?

would your entire existence be erased?

you didn’t want to think about it. not now. not when your life here had finally started to feel like something real.

still, the next day, you found her.

she was standing behind the old school building, near the edge of the soccer field, half-hidden behind a low tree. the spring breeze tugged at her cardigan and sent petals fluttering to the ground. you followed her gaze and, unsurprisingly, found soobin on the field, laughing with a group of boys, his shirt a little untucked, his smile careless and devastating.

you stepped beside her slowly. she flinched when she noticed you.

“oh! you scared me,” she said softly, her voice barely audible.

You smiled. “sorry. i didn’t mean to sneak up on you.”

she looked down, embarrassed, brushing hair behind her ear. “i was just… watching.”

you waited a moment, then leaned in closer. “do you like him?”

she went still. Her face turned crimson. “n-no! i mean… maybe. he’s… kind.”

you tilted your head. “do you want help?”

her eyes met yours—young, hopeful, unsure. “with what?”

“to… get closer to him,” you said, forcing a calm tone even as your stomach coiled with doubt. “maybe i can help.”

you didn’t know why you offered. maybe because the letter told you to. maybe because there was something sweet about her innocence, about the way she twisted her fingers together like love was something too big for her to hold.

or maybe you just wanted to understand.

to see what could have been.

to believe that everything wasn’t just coincidence.

as she nodded shyly, hope blooming across her face, you felt something cold drip down your spine.

what if she really did fall for him?

what if he loved her back?

what if they married—and you… never existed?

but the letter burned in your pocket like a second heartbeat. you had to trust it. trust that whoever—or whatever—had sent you here knew more than you did.

you forced a smile and said softly, “let’s start with a smile. next time he walks by.”

she looked at you with wide eyes. “just that?”

You nodded. “you’d be surprised what a smile can do.”

but you weren’t thinking of her when you said it.

you were thinking of soobin.

of the moment his eyes met yours for the first time.

and of how your whole world had started to change since.

the evening had that golden hue, the one you only get when the sun starts to sink behind the old buildings, casting everything in a nostalgic warmth. you’d organized the dinner with care. a simple yet modern spot: a small restaurant that served american-style burgers, with metal tables, hanging lights, and a jukebox playing soft romantic ballads in the background.

you thought it would be the perfect setting.

they just needed to coexist, relax, laugh a little. if your mom and soobin could spend time together, maybe you'd fulfill the letter’s request. maybe you could keep moving the pieces without altering the whole game.

yeonjun arrived first, greeting you with his trademark crooked smile and a pack of gum in hand. then came your mom’s friends, followed by soobin, and lastly, your mother, who looked absolutely lovely without realizing it—her hair loose, a navy blue dress with a white collar, and her cheeks flushed, as though simply being here made her nervous.

everything seemed fine… at first.

they all took their seats at a round table. you were between soobin and one of your mom’s friends. your plan was clear: give them space. let them talk, let something spark between them. but it didn’t go as planned.

the friends started whispering among themselves, yeonjun was animatedly talking about a movie he wanted to watch, and somehow, you ended up talking to soobin. again.

it was easy to talk to him. too easy.

both of you ordered the same burger, without even knowing it. you both took the pickles out at the same time and set them aside. at the first bite, you both chewed in sync, making a little involuntary sound of pleasure.

“mmm…”

“mm-hmm…”

you exchanged glances and chuckled. without realizing it, you both reached for napkins to wipe the same spot on your right cheeks at the exact same moment.

“what the hell?” one of your mom’s friends exclaimed, pointing at you both with a smile. “you two choreographed this or what? you look like twins! no, wait—clones!”

everyone laughed, except your mom.

“yeah,” yeonjun murmured, leaning on his elbows, watching you both closely. “even now, you’ve both got food on your cheeks... like two little rabbits.”

the laughter died down. you quickly wiped your mouth and glanced over at your mom.

that look.

you knew it too well. furrowed brows, clenched jaw, eyes cold and full of something between anger and discomfort. you’d seen it a thousand times, when you were younger, when you came home late, when you did something “out of line,” when you weren’t the daughter she needed you to be.

you knew what was coming.

and it came.

she stood up from the table without a word, grabbing her purse with force and walking out of the restaurant hurriedly. the others stared after her, soobin looked around confused, and yeonjun sat up in his seat, about to stand.

you reacted first.

you bolted after her, pushing the restaurant door open, the cold evening air hitting your face. you caught up to her on the sidewalk, calling her name. it felt strange to say her name out loud, like it wasn’t even the right name for her anymore.

she turned to face you abruptly, her eyes wet.

“are you mocking me?” she hissed, her voice shaking with anger. “did you really think i wouldn’t notice? you used me. you just wanted to get closer to soobin, didn’t you? used me to play your game.”

you froze, your heart pounding in your chest.

“n-no… it’s not like that,” you stammered, looking down at the ground as if you were twelve again and she had just caught you breaking something. “i don’t care about soobin, i swear. i just… wanted to help you.”

she didn’t answer, just stood there, eyes drilling into you with that piercing gaze.

you swallowed hard and said the first thing that came to your mind.

“it’s yeonjun.”

her expression softened slightly. barely noticeable.

“what?”

“i… i like yeonjun.”

she blinked, clearly caught off guard. you could feel the air change.

“what?”

“i... i like yeonjun.” you bit your lip nervously, not entirely sure of what you were saying, but the words felt right somehow. “not soobin. it’s yeonjun.”

you could feel your chest tighten as your mother processed your words. she blinked in surprise, before letting out a small, incredulous laugh.

“yeonjun?” she repeated, eyes widening. “you like yeonjun?”

you nodded sheepishly, the words coming out in a rush. “yeah, i mean… i think i do. but i’m not sure. i’ve just… been thinking about him a lot. you know, he’s kind of—well—different. i feel comfortable around him, i guess.”

you didn’t even realize yeonjun had been listening in from behind a nearby wall. he had been standing there, eavesdropping quietly, his hands shoved deep into his pockets.

your mother looked at you, and for a brief moment, her anger softened. “i thought you liked soobin…”

you quickly shook your head. “no, not at all. i don’t even see him like that. you know, like how people do with someone famous or something. it’s just not the same…”

suddenly, there was a rustling noise behind you. you turned around to see yeonjun step out from behind the wall, his expression unreadable. you didn’t know if he had heard everything, but from the way his eyes locked with yours, you could tell he had. your cheeks burned.

“i, uh...” yeonjun scratched his head awkwardly. “you didn’t have to tell her that, you know.”

you opened your mouth to respond, but your mother didn’t wait for you to speak. she turned away, the tension still thick in the air.

“i don’t know what’s going on between you two, but... if you really like him, then go for it. i won’t stop you.” her voice was cold, the finality of it stinging. “but don’t use me for your own plans.”

you reached out instinctively, but she was already walking off, her steps quick and purposeful.

you felt a sharp pang in your chest. you hadn’t meant to hurt her.

but in that moment, yeonjun stood beside you, his presence oddly comforting despite the awkwardness of the situation.

the days blurred by as you found yourself caught in the web of your own actions. you had committed to this, to helping your mother—nari—conquer soobin, following the exact instructions hong had given you in that letter. you didn’t dare stray from the plan; it was your duty, a responsibility you couldn’t afford to fail. so, day by day, you found yourself subtly maneuvering your mother closer to Soobin in every possible way.

you'd suggest small moments where they could talk, push nari into soobin’s orbit, casually organizing group hangouts, dinners, or even study sessions. every time they spoke, you’d make sure there were just enough quiet moments where they were alone, hoping for that spark to ignite.

but as the days passed, yeonjun grew suspicious. he was noticing things, and it wasn’t hard to tell. there was something off about the way you acted, like you were always just a little too eager to get your mom and soobin together, like you were pulling invisible strings behind the scenes.

“why do you always look so nervous when i ask about you and soobin?” yeonjun had asked one evening, his eyes narrowing as he watched you carefully.

you froze, unsure of how to answer. you didn’t want to tell him the truth—not yet. it felt impossible to explain, and you certainly couldn’t let him in on the secret. not when it was still so fragile, so delicate.

“i—” you hesitated, then quickly changed the subject. “it’s nothing. just… weird timing, i guess.”

yeonjun wasn’t convinced. “no, it’s not nothing. you’re acting strange, and i don’t buy your story.”

his suspicion lingered, and his questions began to cut a little too close to the truth. you knew you couldn’t keep this up forever. and yet, you couldn’t bring yourself to tell him. not yet.

“i'm just… doing what I have to do,” you said quietly, your voice barely a whisper. “it’s... a duty, yeonjun. a matter of life or death.”

he blinked in confusion. “a duty? what the fuck is that supposed to mean?”

you sighed, rubbing your forehead in frustration. “i’ll tell you everything. just not now. i’m not ready yet. but i promise i’ll explain. saturday night, at your grandmother’s restaurant. we’ll talk then.”

yeonjun hesitated but nodded, as if he could sense the gravity of what you weren’t saying.

saturday night arrived quickly. you walked into the cozy, warm restaurant, the smell of grilled meats and spices thick in the air. yeonjun’s grandmother greeted you with a kind smile, and yeonjun led you to a quiet corner. he could tell you were nervous—hell, you were practically shaking with anticipation as you prepared to share your secret.

the moment the door closed behind you, you took a deep breath.

“so,” yeonjun started, leaning forward. “you said you were going to tell me everything. i'm listening.”

sou swallowed hard. there was no turning back now. you couldn’t run from this anymore.

“i—uh... i’ll start from the beginning,” you said, your voice wavering slightly. “a while ago, i found a photo between some old boxes when we were moving. it was a picture of a guy. he looked like he belonged in the past, like he didn’t fit in with the time i'm from.”

yeonjun furrowed his brows. “a guy?”

“yeah,” you nodded, the memories flooding back. “he’s… soobin. and my mom—she’s been acting weird, too. i started paying attention. i mean, she’s not like herself. she’s not the same person i remember. and it’s not just her attitude—there’s something deeper, like a whole other life she’s hiding. but it wasn’t until i found that picture that everything started making sense.”

yeonjun’s eyes widened as he leaned forward. “so, this guy, soobin... he’s important, right? but why are you involved? you’re talking about your mom like she’s not... your mom.”

you froze. his question hung in the air, thick and heavy. did he really get it? could he possibly know?

“i—i’m not from here, yeonjun,” you whispered, your voice barely above a breath. “i’m not from this time. i’m not even from this place.”

he blinked, a frown spreading across his face. “what do you mean? are you—”

“i’m from the future,” you interrupted, your words tumbling out in a rush. “from 2017. i was sent back here, to help my mom, nari. you see, in the future, things went wrong. a lot of things. i was... i was told that if i didn’t do this, something would happen that could ruin everything.”

yeonjun stared at you in disbelief, his face pale as he tried to process what you had just said. “you’re from the future? like, actually? you’re not joking right now?”

you shook your head, watching his expression change from skepticism to pure confusion.

“i’m not joking. i know it sounds insane, but it’s true. and soobin… he’s connected to it all. i think he’s the key to everything.”

“soobin?” yeonjun’s voice was barely a whisper. “is he your—your father?”

the question hit you like a punch in the chest. you had thought about it, briefly, in your mind, but hearing him ask the question was different. it felt real, like it was something that needed an answer.

you opened your mouth, but the words stuck in your throat. “i—i don’t know,” you admitted, the words trembling. “my dad... he was choi taesang. i found papers—an old marriage certificate. i even found a small part of his name, ‘bin,’ that matched soobin’s. my mom told me my dad changed his name because of some family issues, inheritance problems... but he died when i was little. i never knew him.”

you stared down at your hands, the weight of the past pressing down on you. “i’m not sure if soobin is my father, but i need to figure this out. i have to help my mom... i have to make sure things happen the way they’re supposed to.”

yeonjun sat back, his expression unreadable as he processed everything you had just told him. the silence stretched between you both, thick with uncertainty.

finally, he exhaled sharply. “so... what happens if you don’t do this? what happens if you fail?”

“i don’t know,” you whispered. “but i can’t take that chance. my existence depends on it.”

yeonjun stayed silent for a long moment, staring directly into your eyes. the disbelief that had once filled his expression seemed to melt away, replaced by something else. it wasn’t confusion anymore. there was a sense of determination now.

“i’ll help you,” he said, his voice confident, almost defiant, as if nothing could stop him. “i won’t let you disappear. i won’t let you face this alone.”

the declaration took you by surprise, and for a moment, you felt the weight on your shoulders lighten slightly. but at the same time, deep inside, something else stirred—sadness. because the simple fact that he was willing to stand by you in all of this meant one thing: sooner or later, you’d have to part ways. If this whole thing worked out, if your mission was fulfilled, your return to the future would be inevitable, and that would mean disappearing from his life, like you’d never been there.

yeonjun looked at you, a playful gleam lighting up his eyes. “in 26 years, i’ll be an old man, and you’ll still be a little kid. just imagining myself as an old man is enough to depress me.” he chuckled lightly. “26 years sounds so far away, but that’s when i’ll need to have everything figured out, right? i need to be satisfied with my life by then.”

you let out a light laugh, the weight of the conversation easing just a little. he was right, though. twenty-six years were a long time in the future, and that was when all of this would come to a head. but he was right. he had to fulfill his dreams and live his life, just as you had to. it made the whole situation feel... less heavy, for a moment.

yeonjun’s tone softened again as he looked at you. “i don’t fully understand your situation, but i know you’re under a lot of pressure. your life depends on this, doesn’t it?”

you nodded, a deep sigh escaping your lips. “it does. i don’t know what’s going to happen, but it feels like i’m running out of time. i... i don’t even know how to explain it.”

you looked at him, suddenly feeling vulnerable. “i’ll tell you everything,” you said softly. “come with me to the house where mrs. son is. i’ll show you all the letters. i’ve been keeping everything hidden, but i can’t keep this secret anymore. i’m sorry, mr. hong, for telling you all this... but i just couldn’t anymore.”

later that evening, you and yeonjun found yourselves sitting at the small kitchen table in mrs. son’s house. the air was thick with the weight of the truth you had just revealed, and it was starting to settle in for both of you. the letters, the photo of soobin, the strange messages from hong, and the terrifying idea that you could disappear from the timeline—it was a lot to process. but now, you were facing it all with yeonjun at your side.

yeonjun, still looking a little incredulous but trying his best to absorb everything, leaned back in his chair, his eyes searching yours for more clarity. "so, if you really are from the future, then... what happens there? what’s it like? What should i be worried about?"

you sighed deeply. the weight of the situation pressed down on you, but you could tell yeonjun was trying to understand, and that made it a little easier to talk. “the future is... weird. so much has changed, and so many things that we take for granted here—like technology—just didn’t exist when i was growing up. it’s all connected. everything is connected.”

yeonjun raised an eyebrow. “connected how?”

you shifted in your seat, gathering your thoughts before continuing. “like, some major things happen in history, things that change the way the world works. like... 9/11.

yeonjun looked confused. “9/11? is that... some sports event?”

you shook your head with a small, sad smile. “no. it was a huge terrorist attack in the united states, and it affected people all over the world. it’s something that... well, it's just a big moment in history. but, for you, it doesn’t really matter. it didn’t affect your life here. in fact, a lot of the things that matter there... just don’t affect you yet.”

yeonjun scratched his head. “that’s... strange. i don’t know much about world events like that.”

“yeah, i guess it’s not on your radar yet,” you replied, “but there are other things, too. football—soccer, i mean—becomes a huge deal in the future. International matches, world cups, they get so much attention. some players... they make history, you know?”

yeonjun perked up, leaning forward now. "wait, really? like who? who makes history?"

you looked at him, a bit taken aback by his sudden interest. “well, in 2002, south korea made it to the semifinals of the world cup. it was a huge deal. the entire country was celebrating. people were so proud of their team.”

yeonjun’s eyes widened, and he grinned. “wait, seriously? south korea in the semifinals? that’s insane!”

you laughed, feeling the warmth of his enthusiasm. “yeah. It’s like one of the proudest moments in sports history here.”

yeonjun’s face lit up even more as he absorbed the significance. "i can't wait to see that happen in the future. when it does, you’ll have to remind me, okay? i’ll throw a big celebration for it! just wait, i’m going to be ready to party!"

it was an unexpected reaction, but it made you smile. despite all the heavy stuff you were dealing with, yeonjun’s excitement about something so simple—celebrating a victory in a future that hadn't even happened yet—felt comforting. for a moment, it was like things weren’t so complicated. like he was still just a normal guy with normal dreams.

you could tell that, despite his earlier confusion, yeonjun was beginning to feel more at ease with the whole situation. “it’s going to happen, just not right now. but hey,” you said, “maybe we can actually watch it together. i mean... if i’m still around.”

yeonjun nodded, a teasing smile pulling at his lips. “we will. and i won’t let you disappear. not on my watch.”

it was said half-jokingly, but the sincerity behind his words was clear. you both sat there for a moment, allowing the silence to settle, but it wasn’t awkward. it felt... comfortable, like the weight of the truth was finally beginning to feel a little more bearable. yeonjun, despite all the confusion, was on your side. and that meant more to you than you realized.

“so,” yeonjun started, breaking the silence, “what’s next? what are you going to do with all this?”

you looked at the pile of letters on the table, still half-distracted by everything that had happened. “i don’t know yet. but i think i have to help my mom with soobin. i’m supposed to—well, the letters say it’s important. i just... i don’t know why. it’s all so weird.”

he leaned in closer, his tone serious now. “i don’t understand it all, but i get that you’ve got something you need to do. and i’ll help. whatever happens, we’ll figure it out. together.”

there was a sense of resolve in his voice now, a shift from the playful teasing earlier. he was no longer just a friend caught in the middle of your confusing life. he was someone who genuinely wanted to help you, someone who was willing to dive into the chaos with you and not back down.

and for the first time in a long time, you felt a glimmer of hope—hope that things might actually work out, no matter how strange and twisted your situation seemed.

the days passed, and as you and yeonjun continued to help your mother and soobin grow closer, you found a sense of tranquility in the small moments that blossomed between you both. you had done it. you’d helped them get to this point, this delicate moment where your mom was finally smiling in a way you had never seen before. the bond between her and soobin was undeniable, and watching it grow made your heart swell. it was a feeling you couldn’t quite explain—like a mix of pride and relief that you had completed a part of your task, something that had been weighing on your shoulders from the very beginning. but you weren’t just a passive observer anymore. you had become part of their story.

and on that day, march 15th, when your mom and soobin posed for their first photo together, you couldn’t help but feel a strange warmth settle in your chest. it was a moment you had carefully worked towards, a culmination of your efforts to see them happy, to see them closer. you were the one who took the picture, the one who captured their smiles—their shared joy that lit up the frame. they didn’t know it yet, but this photo would become a symbol of so much more than just a casual memory. it was a milestone, a turning point in all their lives.

you stood behind the camera, the lens capturing the gentle moment between them, and your eyes shifted to yeonjun, who was standing next to you. “you think they’ll be okay?” you whispered, adjusting the focus of the camera.

he looked at you with a soft smile, his voice gentle. “i think so. they’re finally seeing each other for who they really are.” his words were comforting, and you couldn’t help but feel that warmth expand.

but as you stood there, camera in hand, it wasn’t just their happiness that lingered in your heart. yeonjun, who had been standing next to you the entire time, his shoulder brushing against yours as you captured the moment, made the whole day feel like it was meant for the two of you. you had become part of something larger than yourself, something far beyond just the letters and the tasks hong had laid out for you. you had become a part of this world, a world that, in its own way, felt like it belonged to you and yeonjun.

days later, you found yourself sitting in your room, carefully sorting through the photos. there were the ones with your mom and soobin, their smiles as wide as the world itself. but then, there were others—the ones you had taken with yeonjun. the ones that seemed so simple, yet carried so much weight. you had never intended to take those pictures, but in the rush of moments, you had. there was the one where you both were riding his bike down the narrow, windy streets, laughing as he swerved the bike just to hear you squeal in fear. or the one where you were sitting on the school rooftop, your legs dangling over the edge as you whispered things about your time, things that felt like secrets shared between two souls who had no business existing in the same moment. those were the photos you’d kept—hidden in a little corner of your heart, tucked into the back of your mind.

you hesitated before pulling one of the pictures from the pile, the one where you were wrapped in yeonjun’s arms as he rode the bike. his face was full of joy, eyes crinkled in a grin, while you were buried in the back of his jacket, your face flushed from the wind and the thrill. you thought about whether it was allowed, whether it was okay to keep such a thing, but in that moment, you didn’t care. this photo, this simple image of you and yeonjun, held something more. something you didn’t have words for yet.

you tucked it carefully into your bag, your fingers grazing the edges of the photo one last time before you turned your attention back to the other picture—the one of your mom and soobin. you felt your heart tighten as you looked at her face, her expression softer than you had ever seen it. there was a glow there, an undeniable happiness that hadn’t been present before. she looked younger somehow, the years of hardship fading away beneath the tender light of a new love—of the first fluttering steps into something that could only be described as the beginning of something beautiful. you couldn't help but feel a rush of emotion wash over you. the woman who had always been so strong, so independent, was now looking at soobin with a softness that made her seem... fragile in the most endearing way. her cheeks flushed with the warmth of her newfound feelings, and her eyes sparkled with the innocence of someone discovering love for the very first time. it was almost impossible to imagine, but there she was, looking at him with a glow that almost seemed surreal.

you didn’t hesitate. you handed the photo to her, watching her take it with trembling hands, eyes scanning it like it was the most precious thing in the world. she looked at soobin, then back at the photo, and then back at you. for a moment, she didn’t say anything, and you almost wondered if she had even noticed the way her face changed. but then she smiled—a smile that wasn’t forced or polite. it was genuine, a smile that came from deep within her, and you realized, for the first time, that maybe you had finally done the right thing.

as the days passed, the air around your relationship with yeonjun grew lighter. you found yourselves spending more and more time together, and each moment seemed to deepen the connection between you both. It was something unspoken, an invisible thread that kept pulling you toward him, no matter how much you tried to resist it. there were moments when it felt so natural, so easy. riding on his bike—your arms wrapped around his waist, your face pressed against his back, feeling his warmth seep into your skin. he never seemed to mind. and when you helped him out at his grandmother’s restaurant on weekends, scrambling around the kitchen and laughing as you tried to juggle orders, it felt right. it felt like home.

“thanks for helping me today,” yeonjun said, a smile tugging at his lips as you wiped your hands on your apron. he stood next to you, leaning against the counter, his eyes glinting with something you couldn’t quite place.

“of course,” you answered, glancing up at him with a playful smile. “what else are friends for?”

he grinned back, but there was something deeper in his gaze, something you both avoided acknowledging. “friends, huh?” he murmured, just loud enough for you to hear.

“yeah,” you said softly, your voice barely above a whisper as you turned back to the counter, not daring to look him in the eye.

and when the two of you snuck away from class to spend a few stolen minutes on the school’s rooftop, your legs dangling over the edge, it was like time stood still. you’d share bits of your world with him—small things, like the way your phone had changed from an old flip model to a sleek, glass-covered touchscreen. or the way people started using the internet for everything, even their grocery shopping. but when you spoke about the past, about the things that would come to pass, there was always that look in his eyes—one that made your heart beat faster, as though he was hanging on to your every word, each story you told drawing him closer.

“so… the first man on the moon, huh?” yeonjun asked, a twinkle in his eye as he leaned forward slightly, his gaze fixed on you with an intensity that made your breath catch. “that’s a big deal in your time?”

“it is,” you answered softly, nodding. “it changed the way we see the world. the idea that we could be more than just earth-bound.” you paused, catching your breath before continuing. “it was… a promise. a promise that anything is possible.”

yeonjun’s gaze softened as he absorbed your words, the weight of them hanging in the air between you. there was something unspoken in that moment, something fragile, like the threads of a story yet to be fully told. you were both trapped in this moment, floating in the same strange space, neither of you daring to say what was on your mind, but both of you feeling it all the same.

“maybe one day we’ll go to the moon,” he said quietly, a light laugh escaping his lips. “wouldn’t that be something?”

you smiled, your chest swelling with a feeling you couldn’t name. maybe one day. maybe one day, you and yeonjun would do just that.

under the clear early-winter sky, you and yeonjun lay side by side on the worn-out blanket he had brought to the rooftop of the shared house. It was one of those nights that felt like it belonged in a diary—quiet, cold, intimate, and framed by a dome of stars so dazzling they seemed ready to spill from the heavens.

the night sky was purer than anything you'd seen in your own time. no pollution. no smog. no glowing cities to wash it all out. just the two of you, and a universe that felt infinite.

“the stars…” you whispered, eyes wide, fixed on the constellations. “they’re so beautiful here. so clear. in the future, you can’t see them like this anymore.”

yeonjun turned his head to look at you. his gaze was soft, filled with that quiet curiosity he always seemed to have when it came to you. “really? not even on clear nights?”

you shook your head, a breath slipping from your lips like smoke in the cold. “not even then. the city lights drown everything out. it’s like the stars have disappeared completely.”

he was quiet for a moment, watching the sky as if trying to memorize it for you—like he could bottle the night and give it to you to take home. then his voice dropped low, barely louder than a thought. “what do you think would’ve happened… if you’d never come here? if you hadn’t time-traveled?”

the question caught you off guard. your fingers brushed against his, half-consciously seeking him out on the fabric between you. “i don’t know,” you admitted truthfully. “maybe… we’d have never met.”

yeonjun let out a soft laugh—not teasing, just warm and tinged with something bittersweet. “yeah… i probably would've kept going with my life. not knowing someone like you even existed.”

“that sounds really sad,” you murmured.

he turned onto his side, propping himself up on an elbow to face you fully. the starlight reflected in his eyes, making them shine. “y/n,” he said quietly, “i think i was born just to meet you.”

your heart clenched. the words hit you in a way that felt too big for your chest. cheesy. ridiculous. impossible. but still—so honest it hurt.

you smiled, cheeks flushed pink from more than just the cold. “maybe i was born to travel through time… just to meet you.”

he blinked slowly, then grinned. “so destiny was playing matchmaker, huh?”

“looks like it,” you said, nudging his shoulder.

it wasn’t a confession. not really. but the space between you shifted, electric and fragile. there were no titles, no labels. just the quiet knowledge that you felt the same—unspoken, yet undeniably there.

since your arrival, months had passed. it was now early 1992. your mother and soobin were officially dating, a real couple. it felt surreal. every time you looked at them, you could feel your mission inching closer to its end.

yeonjun was starting to prepare for university applications. his excitement was contagious—he’d talk about moving to seoul, walking through huge lecture halls, making music with other artists. sometimes he’d describe it so vividly you felt like you were already there with him.

“you should come with me,” he said one afternoon while helping you dry bowls at the restaurant. “if you’re still here when school starts.”

you blinked at him. “you mean… to seoul?”

“yeah. why not? you can live in a rooftop apartment next to mine. we’ll eat cheap ramen together. i’ll walk you to your classes.”

your laugh was quiet. “i don’t even know if i’ll still be here. if my mom’s already dating soobin, maybe… maybe it’s almost over. maybe I’ll be sent back soon.”

his smile faltered a little. “right…”

there was a beat of silence before he asked it again—the question that lingered over both of you like a shadow.

“do you think soobin’s your dad?”

you exhaled slowly, eyes falling to the sink. “i don’t know. i wish i did. But i won’t know anything until i go back and… ask her. for real.”

yeonjun nodded, lips pressed tight. you could tell he hated the unknown, hated that all of this—the time you had together—was out of your hands.

still, he leaned in closer, his shoulder bumping yours. “whatever happens… i’m glad we met.”

you tilted your head toward him. “even if i disappear one day without warning?”

he looked at you, eyes unwavering. “even then.”

and in that moment, beneath the stars of a world untouched by time, your hands found each other again. fingers interlaced, quiet and certain. there were no promises. no confessions.

but you both knew the truth.

even without a name, this—whatever it was between you—was real.

though soobin and your mother acted like shy high school sweethearts—barely daring to hold hands in public, cheeks flushed at the simplest touch—you’d heard him once when he thought no one else was listening.

“i want to take you to meet my parents,” soobin had said, voice steady but soft. “i want their blessing. i know we’re young, but i’ve never been so sure about anything.”

your mother had stared at him, eyes wide with something between awe and disbelief. and you… you had frozen behind the door, hand on your chest, trying to breathe quietly.

it wasn’t just puppy love. soobin meant it. he was serious about her. about a future with her.

you swallowed the lump in your throat. was this… really your father?

you didn’t know what to feel. or say. or even think. all you could do was watch. hope. wait for time to untangle itself beneath your anxious feet.

through it all, yeonjun had been patient with you. so sweetly patient it almost hurt. he never rushed you, never asked for more than you were ready to give. he held your hand when you offered it. stayed close when you needed someone to lean on. you were happy—so achingly, dizzyingly happy—but every so often, reality would fall on you like cold water.

you weren’t meant to stay here. not forever.

you didn’t belong in the past.

if you stayed, who knew what chaos you could cause? butterfly wings and hurricanes. your existence here was a ticking bomb—you just didn’t know when it would explode.

letters from mr. hong still came, even after your confession to yeonjun. he didn’t mention what you’d done. he didn’t seem angry or hurt. just distant. polite. almost like a mentor trying to keep things strictly professional now.

but then… in may, a letter came that chilled you to the bone.

"this will be the last letter, but it doesn’t mean your mission is over. you may stay in the past for weeks, or months, even after this. but something dark is coming. something that will shake the foundation of everything you’ve protected until now. in august, during the farewell party for the senior students… something will happen. be alert. watch closely. whatever happens, protect them." -H.

your eyes scanned the paper in panic, fingers trembling.

you memorized every word. you carried the letter folded tight in your bag, your pillow, your pockets. you barely slept. you watched your mother like a hawk, stuck to soobin’s side more than ever. you hoped it was paranoia. that maybe nothing would happen.

but august arrived.

and so did the storm.

the night of the farewell party was warm and buzzing, the air thick with the joy of students celebrating the end of a chapter. you wore a borrowed dress, hair tucked up, eyes scanning every face. yeonjun stayed close. you could feel his hand grazing yours whenever you drifted.

then, it happened.

scream. loud. sharp. ripping through the music.

you turned and saw soobin—face twisted in rage—hitting a boy again and again. the boy on the floor was bleeding from the mouth, gasping, trying to block the blows. around them, students scattered, screaming. a teacher tried to pull soobin back, but soobin was gone. blind with fury.

someone yelled your mother’s name.

uou turned and saw her—shaking, pale, clothes torn at the shoulder, crying.

and then the cops arrived.

sirens. chaos. lights blinding.

they took soobin in cuffs. he didn’t fight it. he just turned to look at your mother, blood on his knuckles, and said, “i’m sorry.”

everything spiraled after that.

you learned later what had happened. the boy—older, drunk—had cornered your mother. tried to force himself on her. soobin had found them just in time.

but justice wasn’t simple.

soobin’s father, a well-known senator, came crashing down with fury. his name had been dragged through mud. his son in a scandal. a fight. a girl.

he beat soobin the night he got home. soobin showed up days later at your mom's house, face swollen, lip split. he said nothing. just hugged your mother and cried.

and then came the final blow.

his father announced that after soobin’s brief juvenile sentence, he’d be sent to the u.s. for good. a fresh start. a new life. a university abroad.

he was forbidden from seeing your mother again.

she wore the promise ring on her finger still. tiny, silver, nothing flashy—but it shimmered like a thousand diamonds when the light hit it. soobin had given it to her just weeks ago.

“i’ll marry you one day,” he’d whispered. “i swear.”

now she barely left her room. she stopped eating. stopped smiling. her eyes were always red.

you watched it all unfold. helpless. like your chest was being split open from the inside. you thought this was it. you thought this was the end of your mission—and that you’d failed.

maybe you were supposed to stop it. maybe this was the event. maybe this was what you were meant to prevent.

but now it was done.

and you hadn’t stopped it.

one night, after crying so hard your body physically ached, you found yourself in the backyard, curled up on a bench, arms wrapped around your knees.

yeonjun found you there.

he didn’t say anything. he just sat beside you, then gently pulled you into his chest. his arms wrapped around you like a shield. you buried your face in his sweater and sobbed. he stroked your hair slowly, patiently, as if telling you without words: i’m here. i’m not going anywhere.

“i think i ruined everything,” you whispered, voice raw.

“you didn’t ruin anything,” he said softly.

“i didn’t stop it. i didn’t protect them.”

“you’ve done more than anyone ever could,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to your temple. "you’ve loved them. that matters. that always matters.”

you closed your eyes.

and for the first time since august began, you let yourself fall apart. safely. in yeonjun’s arms.

even if everything else was crashing down, at least—for now—he was still here.

the months slipped by like smoke between your fingers.

from august to october, the colors around you changed—summer golds fading into autumn reds, then the gray hush of early october. but inside the house, inside your mother's room, it was always winter.

she tried to smile. tried to live. you made her tea, left her notes, held her hand through silences that stretched across entire afternoons. but you couldn’t force her heart to forget.

she had been in love with soobin since the very first day.

it had been fast. intense. a fire that lit her from the inside out—and now, after being torn apart so cruelly, she was trying to breathe through the ashes.

“everything i felt for him was real,” she whispered one night, curled beneath her blanket like a ghost of herself. “i’ve never loved someone like that. and now he’s gone.”

he was gone. living on the other side of the world. his father had made good on his promise—sent him to the u.s., far from everything that made him human. from her. from you.

at first, letters came. they were sweet, hopeful, full of aching promises.

but then they stopped.

you weren’t sure if he was being watched, controlled, or if he’d been forced to forget her by the cold grip of his powerful family. all you knew was that her mailbox stayed empty. and your mother stayed broken.

but in your corner of this spiraling world, there was yeonjun.

yeonjun, who saw you even when you tried to disappear behind your guilt. yeonjun, who didn’t ask for more than what you could give. who held your fears gently in the curve of his palm and waited for you to breathe again.

he was the only one who could calm your unraveling thoughts.

but even that peace became fractured. as october arrived, he pulled away—not emotionally, but physically, lost in piles of paperwork and meetings and test prep for university in seoul.

days would pass without seeing him. you waited, restless. you’d grown addicted to his presence, to the way his voice softened your panic and made the world feel less heavy.

so when he finally said through the phone “let’s have dinner tonight. just us,” your heart skipped like a stone over water.

it was a sunday evening.

the sun had set early, painting the sky in smudges of burnt orange and deep plum. the air was crisp but not cold, the kind that wrapped around your skin like a silk scarf. the streets were quiet, glowing under amber streetlamps, trees shivering slightly in the breeze.

he waited for you at the tteokbokki place—the same spot where you'd first laughed over spicy sauce and nervous glances months ago.

but this time… he looked different.

he’d styled his hair back with gel, revealing the full line of his forehead and the soft arch of his brows. it made him look older, more refined. dangerous, even. the boyish charm hadn’t vanished—it had evolved, carved into something breathtaking.

you blinked, stunned. “you… you look so hot.”

he nearly choked on his water, laughing. “what?”

“i mean it. the hair. it suits you. you look like a model or something.”

his cheeks flushed red. “you can’t just say that and act normal.”

you leaned forward, smug. “i just did.”

the tension melted into warm laughter, echoing between the tiled walls of the tiny restaurant. it felt like you were the only two people in the world.

then, you picked up a piece of tteokbokki, holding it in your chopsticks. “say ‘ahh~’.”

he gave you a playful side-eye. “are we really doing this?”

“yes,” you grinned. “we’re method acting as a couple. you need to commit.”

he opened his mouth with a dramatic sigh. “ahhh—”

you fed him the piece, your fingers brushing his lips by accident, and you both burst out laughing. it was ridiculous. silly. but the way he was looking at you—it wasn’t silly at all.

then he said it.

“i love you.”

the world stopped.

your smile froze on your lips. time seemed to fracture around you, holding its breath.

before you could speak, he continued, voice lower now, almost trembling.

“i know you’ll leave. i know this isn’t your world. but you have something that belongs to you. me.” he reached across the table, took your hand. “even if our time is short… i want to spend it with you. i don’t want to regret not saying it. i don’t want to spend the next 26 years wishing i had.”

your throat tightened. your fingers gripped his.

“i like you, y/n. I like you so much it hurts. and if the universe tears us apart, i’ll be reborn just to find you again. in every timeline, i’ll search for you. always.”

your heart beat so fast it hurt. your mouth was dry. your body frozen.

but he wasn’t waiting for permission anymore.

he stood, leaned over the table, and kissed you.

softly. slowly. like the world didn’t matter.

his lips tasted like tteokbokki and heartbreak, sweet and fiery all at once. your eyes fluttered shut. everything blurred. the restaurant, the lights, the soft chatter of other customers—all vanished.

there was only him. his mouth against yours. his breath brushing your cheek. his hand cradling the side of your neck with delicate reverence.

the world spun.

but for the first time in months, you didn’t care.

you kissed him back. you kissed him like he was the only thing anchoring you to this moment.

because maybe he was.

you started a relationship without labeling it. no one asked, “will you be mine?” they just... were. and that was enough.

no promises, no declarations. only two hearts quietly choosing each other in the midst of borrowed time.

yeonjun didn’t push you. he never asked for forever. he just gave you his time—every second of it. and you, with a heart full of fear and a mind screaming you don’t belong here, you gave him everything you could.

your moments, your awkward laughs, your unsure hands, your kisses that tasted like soft desperation, your half-written thoughts and unfinished dreams.

every date felt like a stolen lifetime.

one warm afternoon, he took you to the park with an old checkered blanket and a thermos full of hot chocolate. he brought his vintage camera and snapped pictures of you while the sun painted you in gold.

“you look like a memory,” he said, looking at you through the lens like you were the most precious thing he’d ever seen.

another night, you strolled through the streets hand in hand, fingers tangled loosely, like a promise never spoken.

you passed by old storefronts and flickering streetlights, until you found a small cinema playing black and white films.

he held your thumb the whole time, tracing slow circles into your skin, and you weren’t even watching the movie— you were memorizing the way his jaw looked in the flickering light, how he leaned close when he laughed.

on a lazy saturday, he took you to a dusty secondhand bookstore tucked between an old pharmacy and a fruit shop.

you two hid between shelves, reading poetry aloud, laughing when he made up the endings, and somewhere between the little prince and a forgotten romance novel, he kissed you again— slow, reverent, like you were made of something holy.

some mornings, you just stayed home.

he made pancakes in a worn apron with a bunny print, and you danced around in oversized socks, hair a mess, and he’d tell you, “you’re my favorite song.” and you’d whisper back, how am i supposed to leave this?

but you didn’t say it out loud. you didn’t have to. you both knew.

and still—he stayed.

and still—you loved him.

while yeonjun became your calm, your anchor, your mother began to slowly stitch herself back together.

not in grand gestures. not overnight. but little by little.

she stopped crying in the mornings. she let you brush her hair again.

she smiled at breakfast, not because she was over soobin, but because she remembered how to feel sunlight on her skin.

you watched her heal. you watched her reread soobin’s old letters with trembling fingers, tears still fresh, but her spine straighter.

“i’ve never loved someone like that before,” she confessed one night while folding laundry, voice soft as dusk. “it all happened so fast… it was real. i know it was.”

and you nodded, because you saw it— the way they looked at each other like time was a thief.

and you were living that same story now. with your own boy. your own impossible love.

except you didn’t know how yours would end.

only that it had already changed you. forever.

it was thursday. early. too early.your eyes were heavy, your limbs sluggish with the weight of not enough sleep.

your mind replayed the night before in soft flashes— you and yeonjun lying side by side, talking about everything and nothing. he told you he'd be leaving at dawn to catch the train to seoul. his csat exam. he had smiled when he said it, eyes wide with excitement and nerves.

“i’ll take the 6 a.m. train,” he whispered. “i want to be early… less stress that way.”

you’d nodded, fingers brushing his. you kissed him—sleepy and slow—and told him good luck. told him you’d buy cake and celebrate when he came back. he grinned, “then now i’m more excited about the cake than the exam.”

your chest ached gently with the memory. how warm his voice had sounded. how real he’d felt.

you went about your morning like any other. brushed your teeth. took a quick shower. you padded downstairs, hair still damp, the floorboards creaking beneath your bare feet.

mrs. son was already up, bustling in the kitchen, apron tied neatly at her waist. the scent of warm broth and toasted rice filled the air. you walked past her to the small calendar on the wall.

she reached it before you. ripped off yesterday’s page in one clean motion. november 12th.

you froze a second. something tugged at your gut. but you shook it off.

“need help?” you asked, voice light.

“set the table, darling,” she said, smiling.

you did. poured the tea. laid out the bowls. and sat down across from her.

she talked casually as you ate. about the weather. the street cats.then she looked up from her spoon and grinned.

“you really won the lottery with that one, huh? so handsome, your yeonjun. if i had met someone like him in my youth…” she sighed dramatically.

you laughed. but there was a tremble in it. because this wasn't your youth. and it wasn't your time.

you were borrowing this moment. and somewhere inside, you knew the clock was ticking.

after breakfast, you stayed in the living room, watching a slow moving drama with mrs. son. she liked to yell at the characters, complain about the villains, cheer for the lovers. you leaned your head against the cushion, letting her voice wash over you, but your mind drifted again.

to his voice. to his train. to his smile as he said “see you tonight.”

and then—

the screen cut to static. just for a second. then the image returned, but it wasn’t the drama anymore.

breaking news.

you sat up.

a smoky image filled the screen. metal twisted into grotesque shapes, a train on its side, the ground scorched and steaming. bodies—blurry—too blurry— sirens. flashing lights.

your blood went ice cold. your lungs forgot how to breathe.

“the train… the train from incheon to seoul has… derailed—”

and you knew. you didn’t need them to say it. you knew.

the flashback hit you like a bullet— “the tragic accident of the incheon-seoul express…” your own voice, from before. before all of this.

“no.” the word spilled from you in a whisper. then louder. “no—no—no—YEONJUN!”

mrs. son barely had time to react before you were on your feet, heart slamming against your ribs like it wanted to shatter them, legs moving without direction��without control.

you burst out of the house, wind clawing at your skin, eyes blind with tears.

how could i be so stupid? you knew. YOU KNEW. you had the date. the place. the headline burned into your memory. and you let him go.

your breath tore out of you in gasps as you flagged down the first taxi you saw. the driver looked at you wide-eyed as you shouted,

“the train wreck—take me there. please—now.”

“miss, they won’t let you near it. police closed everything. it’s chaos—”

“my boyfriend is there!” your scream cracked your throat raw. “he’s in there—i have to get to him—i have to—”

he drove.

but you were already breaking. from the inside out. because the pieces were fitting together, one after another like cruel clockwork.

you could save your mom. you could save soobin.

but not him.

yeonjun. your bright light. your stolen season of peace. and you’d let him go with a kiss and the promise of cake.

god, why didn’t you say don’t go? why didn’t you scream the truth

you pressed your forehead to the car window, watching the blur of streets race past, but all you saw were his eyes. his hands. his smile.

the memory of his “i love you” slammed into your chest like a truck.

your vision tunneled. everything felt muffled. your body was still moving, still trying, but some part of you had already shattered.

you felt it. a cold certainty deep in your bones.

he was gone. and you’d known it. and you couldn’t stop it.

the sobs started in your gut—ugly, loud, and you curled into yourself in the back of that taxi, screaming his name as if the wind might carry it back in time and stop him from boarding that train.

but time, as always, didn’t listen.

the taxi barely slowed when you pushed the door open.

"hey! miss! what the hell—!" you didn’t hear the rest. your feet hit the pavement hard and fast. cars honked around you, drivers yelling, but none of it registered.

you ran.

the train station loomed ahead, a warped silhouette behind smoke and flashing lights. traffic had collapsed around it—cars trapped in a gridlock of sirens and screams. people were everywhere, shouting, crying, pacing the sidewalks with phones pressed to their ears, desperate for news.

but you only had one thought. one name.

yeonjun.

your breath tore from you in bursts as you shoved through the crowd, ignoring the sting of elbows and the heat of panic. you had to find him. he was here.

he was—

a loud honk split the air behind you.

you turned your head— just a flicker— and saw it.

a car.

too fast.

too close.

your eyes widened. you didn’t scream. just a choked, helpless whimper as your knees locked in place.

then—

impact.

your world tilted. the sky spun. your body flew—weightless— before slamming into the ground with a sickening crack.

pain.

then nothing.

voices.

screams.

doors slamming.

tires screeching.

everything faded—

the colors, the sounds, the smell of smoke and burning metal. all of it fell away, until even your mind went quiet.

you gasped awake. your scream pierced the sterile silence of the hospital room. your body jolted upright, limbs flailing beneath thin sheets, the ache in your chest unbearable.

"YEON—"

but the name—

the name—

what was the name?

you froze, heart hammering wildly as tears welled in your eyes. there was a face. a smile. soft brown eyes that crinkled when he laughed. warm hands. a voice that said “i love you” in the quiet.

but the name. what was his name?

a soft thud.

your mom—

startled awake from the small couch by the window.

“baby—baby, you're awake! oh my god—" she rushed to your side, holding your trembling hands.

you blinked at her. tried to speak, but your throat burned.

the door burst open. nurses flooded in, followed by a doctor with a clipboard and calm urgency.

“heart rate’s spiking—she’s in shock—prepare a sedative—” no. no. you didn’t want to forget.

you clung to the face in your mind. you bit your tongue to stay conscious. you tried to picture him— his eyes, his laugh, the way he said your name.

but the details blurred. the voice faded. and worst of all— you couldn’t remember what you used to call him. what he used to call you.

your body thrashed on the bed until the needle slid into your arm. warmth spread through your veins, thick and heavy, dragging you down.

you sobbed. not from pain— but from the terrible emptiness blooming inside your chest. something was gone. someone was gone.

when you woke again, it was quiet.your mother sat beside you, stroking your hair with gentle fingers. her eyes were red.

“you scared me,” she whispered. “you passed out two nights ago. i found you by the closet. you wouldn’t wake up.”

two nights?

your lips parted.

your voice came out hoarse.

“two nights…?”

“yeah. the doctor says you were dehydrated. exhausted. they ran some tests, but…” she paused. her brows furrowed. “they think it might have been psychological. you were… crying in your sleep.”

your mind raced. no—no— you were gone for longer than that. you lived another life. with another family. with him.

but the memories were slipping like sand through your fingers.

“i was somewhere else,” you murmured, barely audible. your mother leaned in.

“what, sweetheart?”

you shook your head, tears filling your eyes. “i—I was in the past. i was with… with…”

his face.

for a moment it was there again.

just a flicker.

but when you tried to focus—

when you tried to hold it still—

it scattered like dust.

you choked on a sob.

what kind of cruel joke was this?

you remembered how it felt.

the love.

the joy.

the heartbreak.

but not him.

not even his name.

you wrapped your arms around your knees, curling into yourself on the hospital bed.

“mom…” your voice cracked. “i think i lost someone important.”

she looked at you with quiet confusion, not understanding what you meant. but how could she?

how do you explain losing a person you’re not even sure existed anymore? how do you mourn someone your mind won’t let you remember?

but your heart knew. somewhere deep down, in a place no medicine could reach— it knew.

and it hurt like hell.

a month had passed since you were discharged from the hospital. the doctors said you had collapsed from shock, that maybe it was stress, dehydration, or a neurological response. none of them had a real explanation for why you’d been unconscious for so long, or why, when you finally woke up, you whispered a name you couldn’t remember and cried for someone who didn’t exist.

your body had recovered. you could walk, eat, shower, smile if you really had to. but something inside you felt... disconnected. sometimes you would stare out the window for hours, not even noticing the sun moving across the sky. sometimes you would wake up in the middle of the night with tears on your cheeks and an ache in your chest that wouldn’t let you breathe. other times you felt like a ghost living in your own skin—aware, but not present.

you couldn’t ride the train again. even the sound of one passing in the distance made your knees weak and your hands tremble. it was irrational. you knew that. but every time you tried, something deep inside screamed at you not to go. a primal terror wrapped around your ribs and wouldn’t let go. maybe it was trauma from the collapse. maybe it was something you brought back with you. you weren’t sure anymore.

you tried to convince yourself that none of it had happened. that it was just a vivid dream your brain created while you were unconscious. it had to be, right? people don’t just fall into different timelines. they don’t leap through summers that never existed, meet boys with eyes like galaxies, or change the past. yet, no matter how many times you repeated that logic to yourself, it never stuck. something in you knew it had been real. and that knowing haunted you.

you had changed. you were quieter now, reserved. you spoke only when necessary and often found yourself zoning out in the middle of conversations, eyes unfocused as if you were somewhere else entirely. school felt like noise. people buzzed around you, but you couldn’t keep up. your grades dropped. you didn’t care. you didn’t connect with anyone. making friends felt pointless when your heart still lived in a different time.

your relationship with your mother had shifted too. after your collapse, she was visibly worried, almost overly attentive—but you couldn’t let her in. not after everything. not when you remembered her as the teenage girl you met that summer, crying into your arms, struggling through heartbreak. that memory clashed too harshly with the woman sitting at the dinner table now, asking if you’d done your homework. you had built a wall between the two of you, and she didn’t know how to climb over it.

and then, one evening as you both sat eating dinner in silence, the question escaped your lips before you could stop it.

“is soobin my father?”

the fork in her hand froze mid-air, and her eyes flicked to yours, wide and sharp with alarm. her mouth parted slightly in surprise, brows furrowing in clear discomfort. you regretted asking immediately—until her expression softened. she sighed and set the fork down, folding her hands in her lap as she looked at you with a strange mixture of vulnerability and nostalgia.

“no,” she said quietly. “he’s not.”

your stomach twisted, unsure if the answer brought relief or disappointment. she looked away for a moment, as if remembering something from a dream of her own.

“soobin... was someone i knew in high school,” she continued. “he was sweet. shy, but in a charming way. he helped me get through something really hard. i remember this girl who was there too—she supported me, made me feel less alone—but i can’t remember her name now. it’s strange. i remember her eyes, her voice, but... not her name.”

your throat tightened. that was you. but you said nothing.

“soobin and i dated for a while. we thought we were meant for each other. but life had other plans. he left for the united states. we tried to stay in touch, but... things faded. i fell apart for a while. but eventually, in college, i met someone else. your father. choi wonbin.”

the name hit you like a wave. your eyes widened, heart stuttering in your chest. wonbin. not soobin. and that explained everything. that was why you hadn’t vanished when soobin left. that was why the timeline remained intact. your existence had never depended on him. your mother smiled softly, almost laughing to herself.

“i know, i know. soobin, wonbin—it sounds ridiculous. just a coincidence,” she said. “but sometimes... life is full of coincidences that somehow make sense.”

for the first time in weeks, the tension in your shoulders eased. it was as if a door had opened. as if something that had been stuck finally began to shift. and for the first time since you returned, you felt a sliver of peace.

a week later, a package arrived for you. it was small, lightweight, and addressed in delicate handwriting. your fingers trembled as you opened it. inside, you found a single letter. your breath hitched the moment your eyes recognized the script. it was his.

mr. hong.

“y/n, it wasn’t a dream. you really did travel through time. the reason you’re still alive and well is because you followed the path that was meant to be. everything happened as it had to. even the painful parts. even the losses. you played your part with courage, with love. thank you. now, rest. beautiful things await you. this is my final goodbye. live, y/n. truly live. —hong.”

your vision blurred as hot tears rolled down your cheeks. you clutched the letter to your chest, heart aching with a grief that had no words. you didn’t know why it hurt so much. only that something inside you had broken open. maybe it was because it had been real. maybe because it was over. maybe because someone had finally said thank you.

a few days later, your homeroom teacher called you into his office. you weren’t in the mood for anything. you shuffled into the room with tired steps and blank eyes.

“we have a transfer student,” he said with a warm smile. “i’d like you to show him around. since you’re both new, maybe you can help each other.”

you nodded absently, barely paying attention. your gaze drifted to his desk—a black pen, a leather-bound notebook—and something about the handwriting on the paper caught your eye. your stomach flipped. before you could say anything, he stood up suddenly.

“ah—excuse me, i have to take this call. meet him while i step out, alright?”

and then the door opened.

you turned.

your breath left your body.

there he stood.

tall. familiar. too real to be real.

ear piercings gleaming. airpods in. hands buried in his pockets. that same effortless cool. the exact look you remembered, etched into every corner of your heart.

he smiled at you—soft, warm, and impossibly alive.

“hi,” he said, voice smooth and gentle. “i’m yeonjun. son yeonjun. please take care of me.”

your knees buckled. your lungs stopped working. your heart screamed.

“you’re real,” you whispered.

he stepped closer without hesitation, taking your face in his hands, thumbs brushing your cheeks as if he’d done it a thousand times before.

“i told you,” he murmured, his forehead resting against yours, “i was born to meet you. and i’d follow you through time. in every line. every world.”

you choked on a sob as the tears spilled over. he wiped them away with quiet tenderness.

“we were meant to find each other. no matter when. no matter where.”

your arms wrapped around him, and he pulled you close—tight, grounding, safe. you buried your face in his chest and breathed him in. he smelled like summer rain and all the moments you thought you’d lost.

he tilted your chin, looked into your eyes with infinite softness, and kissed you. gently. surely. like it was always meant to happen.

and in that kiss, everything returned—every laugh, every memory, every promise unspoken.

outside, the rain began to fall. soft. steady.

but inside the room, wrapped in his arms, you felt the warmth of a hundred summers.

and this time, you knew with your whole heart—

you were home.

[bluhourz]

when he yells at you

-

After a few days apart, you finally had an evening to spend with Beomgyu. You’d missed him more than you realized, and the moment you walked through his door, his presence alone made you feel at home. But something felt off. He hugged you tightly at first, holding on for just a second too long, before pulling away with a sigh.

“You okay?” you asked, searching his face.

“Yeah,” he mumbled, offering you a small smile. “Just tired.”

You could tell there was more to it, but you didn’t want to push. Instead, you laced your fingers through his and pulled him toward the kitchen.

“Come on,” you said. “Let’s make dinner together. We haven’t done that in forever.”

Beomgyu groaned dramatically as you tugged him along. Flopping onto the counter, he sighed excessively. “Do we have to? Can’t we just order something?”

“Nope,” you grinned. “I'm in the mood for something specific so homemade ramyeon it is.”

He sighed but didn’t protest further, instead watching as you gathered the ingredients. You knew he actually also preferred this, even as he argued against it. After a few moments, he started helping — chopping green onions, cracking eggs, even playfully poking at you when he thought you weren’t paying attention. It felt nice. Comfortable. He wasn’t as talkative as usual, but you didn’t push him. You tried to keep things light, telling him stories about your week and cracking dumb jokes, hoping to ease whatever weight he was carrying. He laughed a little, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes.

When the ramyeon was finally ready, you carefully lifted the pot to dish it up. But as you set it down, your grip slipped just slightly, and some broth splashed onto the counter. You didn't think too much of it since this is something you do more often than not.

Before you could grab a towe thoughl, Beomgyu suddenly yelled, “Seriously? Can you just be careful for once?”

You froze, startled by the sharpness in his voice. Your heart lurched in your chest as you turned to look at him, not understanding what just happened. But his gaze was hard, his brows furrowed in frustration.

“I—” you started, but you caught yourself. Instead, you swallowed and nodded. “Sorry.”

Beomgyu exhaled harshly, running a hand through his hair. He didn’t say anything else, but the mood had shifted completely. You finished serving the food, setting his bowl in front of him before sitting down.

The air between you was heavy. Neither of you spoke as you ate, the only sounds in the room being the quiet clinking of chopsticks against bowls. You kept your eyes down, not daring to meet his gaze. The whole time you were trying to figure out what just happened.

Dinner felt like it lasted forever though. When you were finished, you got up wordlessly and started washing the dishes. You couldn't sit there any longer than you needed to. The running water filled the silence, giving you something to focus on besides the weight in your chest.

As you scrubbed the last bowl, you sensed someone behind you. You turned your head slightly and saw Beomgyu standing in the doorway, watching you. You could see he wanted to talk so you waited him out.

After a few minutes of silence, you decide to head to bed. You met his eyes as you walked in his direction, but you didn’t say anything. As you went to walk past him, his hand reached out, fingers curling gently around your arm.

“What is it?” you asked quietly, glancing at him quickly.

Instead of answering, he pulled you into a hug. You stiffened for a moment, surprised, but then slowly brought your arms up to wrap around him. It felt like he needed it. He clung to you, his face buried in your shoulder.

“I’m sorry,” he mumbled, voice barely above a whisper.

You stayed still, waiting.

After a moment, he spoke again. “I shouldn’t have snapped at you. You didn’t do anything wrong.”

You pulled back slightly, looking up at him. His expression was tight, his lips pressed together like he was holding something in.

“What’s wrong Gyu?” you asked gently.

Beomgyu sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I just… I don’t know. Everything’s been piling up lately. Schedules, expectations, feeling like I have to be ‘on’ all the time. And then I finally get to be with you, and instead of being happy, I’m just… tired. Frustrated. And I took it out on you.”

You searched his face, taking in the exhaustion in his eyes, the slight downward curve of his lips. Your heart ached for him.

“You could’ve just told me,” you said softly. “You don’t have to act like everything’s fine all the time.”

He let out a shaky breath. “I know. I just—I didn’t want to ruin our time together. But I ended up ruining it anyway.”

You shook your head. “You didn’t ruin anything, Beomgyu. You’re allowed to have bad days. You don’t have to pretend with me.”

His grip on you tightened. “I don’t deserve you.”

You frowned. “Don’t say that.”

“I mean it,” he murmured. “You’re always so patient with me. Even when I really don’t deserve it.”

You reached up, brushing his hair out of his eyes a bit. “You always deserve kindness. Even when you’re struggling. Especially then.”

His eyes softened, and for the first time that night, you saw a hint of the Beomgyu you knew—the one who loved teasing you, making you laugh, holding you close just because he could.

“Come on,” you said, nudging him gently. “Let’s get ready for bed.”

He hesitated for a moment before nodding. “Okay.”

The two of you moved through your nighttime routine together—brushing your teeth, washing up, changing into comfortable clothes. It felt normal again, like the tension from earlier had finally started to fade.

As you climbed into bed, Beomgyu pulled you into his arms, pressing his forehead against yours.

“I love you,” he whispered.

You smiled, threading your fingers through his hair. “I love you too.”

He sighed, his body relaxing against yours. “Thanks for being here.”

“Always.”

With that, you let the quiet settle around you, his warmth and steady breathing lulling you both into sleep, the heaviness of the night finally giving way to peace.

[tangerinelovez]

mtl: txt asking for your meal to be remade when made incorrectly at a restaurant

pairing: txt x female-implied reader with dietary restrictions (they've been dating for six months) tw; food allergies, veganism, confrontation, uncomfortable social experience, social anxiety........ also I didn't proofread this so that's a warning itself word count: 2394 disclaimer: This is all fictional and just for entertainment purposes. This is not based on any fact and is just my own interpretations of how I think the members would act if their girlfriend's order was wrong at a restaurant and they had some kind of dietary restriction. note: I did make my decisions based on a combination of factors. I think some members would be very sympathetic about your order being wrong, but may be uncomfortable expressing your concerns to the waiter, leaving you to be the one to voice your dissatisfaction with your meal. On the other hand, some members may be more willing to speak up on your behalf, but may not fully offer the emotional support you may be looking for in this situation.

MOST

Yeonjun -> you can always count on him to speak up for you when your meal isn't right... but you will have to explain to him what's wrong with it

you have been a vegan by choice for a few years, and by this point, you had gotten pretty used to great service and creative food options when going out. Not to mention, you had been pleased to find that being vegan hadn’t deterred nearly as many guys from dating you as everyone had made it sound.

to make a long story short, it had been a while since you’d been faced with a vegan’s worst nightmare: an inedible pool of steaming hot vegan cheese falling off the edge of your pizza slice in rivulets while on a rare night out with your boyfriend. on the bright side, he would be quick to fix the issue, hating to see you so sad and disappointed with your meal while he's enjoying his own so much. he'd drop his own slice of pizza, and his brows would furrow as you explain why your vegan pizza was not made correctly, and he'd nod attentively, eyes wide as he listens. he'd reassure you that he'd handle it for you and then flag down the waiter, politely explaining why your pizza isn't correct as it appeared to be drowning in a river of non-dairy cheese instead of the typical sprinkle you'd come to expect when eating at this restaurant. when the second pizza comes out, he'd study it and your face closely, and lean in and assertively ask if he needs to go talk to the kitchen himself, or if it looks right for you this time. part of you wonders how he can't seem to fully recognize this pizza looks entirely different than the first one that had been swimming in rivulets of cheese, but he's so cute and concerned, you hold down your urge to point out just how different the two pizzas look from each other.

when you smile and reassure him the dough looks cooked thoroughly and there's an appropriate amount of vegan cheese and the correct toppings, he'd let out a big sigh of relief and pick up his own forgotten slice, saying he doesn't mind eating his pizza cold as long as it means he can share a nice meal with you and shooting you a wink as he takes a bite. a bizarre expression crosses his face suddenly, prompting you to ask what is it before he says we're getting ice cream after this right? and you nod, loving how his mind is always on food, even when eating.

let me look up the best vegan ice cream around here then... he says, pulling out his samsung as he wipes his face.

you're always eating some fruit pop at the place we normally go to, and I know you say you like it... but you deserve ice cream tonight. you laugh, finding it amusing how he seems to be more impacted by all of this than you are, but smile as you eat your well-crafted pizza, feeling lucky to have found a man who is eager to keep you fed and happy. Taehyun -> your attentive and observant boyfriend will always do what it takes to make you happy, even if he doesn't fully get the "vegan" thing as soon as your order hit the table, terry noticed that your face didn't light up as it normally does when the two of you go out for tacos. why the long face baby? he'd say, leaning in over the booth. you'd hesitate, feeling a little apprehensive about bringing up your concerns. You don't really like inconveniencing others over your dietary restrictions, and try to not make a big deal of them.

as you tell terry your order is wrong and why, he nods in understanding, but hesitates before saying baby... can't you just eat it this one time? I just don't get why you wont have the real thing sometimes... it's much healthier than that fake meat...

you sigh, shaking your head slightly, a slightly amused smile on your face. your gym bro boyfriend still maintained a slight skepticism towards your diet even after all these months of dating. you know i'm vegan for reasons other than just health reasons, terry.

he nods and reaches for your hand across the table, an earnest look in his eyes. you know I don't mind that you're vegan, (y/n). let me ask them for your fake meat and fake cheese tacos.

he raises his free hand to signal the waiter back over, and calmly explains that you need the tacos remade without dairy and with the vegan meat crumbles. he smiles widely as the waiter apologizes and offers to discount your bill, apologizing profusely for the mistake.

when the remade tacos arrive, terry inspects them heavily, even offering to take a bite to ensure it's not real meat and cheese on these, as well. you can feel yourself fall in love even more when his eyes widen in amazement after he takes a bite and says, it's definitely vegan, but wow, it's good... maybe next time you can convince him to share some vegan appetizers and entrees. Beomgyu -> he teases. a lot. but at the end of the day, he would do anything for you if you really needed him to yeah I mean they definitely have a couple options for you here, right? your boyfriend of six months had asked on the way to the ramen restaurant he had recently taken a liking to. you had bitten your lip, unsure if your dietary restrictions would really be accommodated here. due to some health reasons, you were unable to eat gluten or dairy. taking into account your other allergies, it could often make eating somewhere feel impossible. now that the steaming bowl was in front of you, it was clear that your concerns had been valid. you watch beomgyu carefully eat some of his own ramen for a few seconds before sighing softly, prompting him to look up from his bowl and to your blank expression and untouched food. Is something wrong with yours? he asks after swallowing his soup. you nod, feeling a bit embarrassed. it had been a really long day, and you had just wanted to eat something that sounded good without worrying about all of your restrictions and allergies, but now that it was in front of you, and you could see just how much gluten, soy, and sesame was in the ramen, you knew you could not eat it.

he quirks his brow. ah, is today a day you spontaneously care about your diet again?

you feel heat rush into your face, knowing he's just kidding, but feeling embarrassed and not wanting to be an inconvenience all the same. hey, i didn't realize they'd put so many huge chunks of tofu in here... It didn't list tofu as an ingredient in here... and there's so much soy sauce already in the broth... not to mention, sesame seeds randomly in here...

you move your spoon around sadly, not feeling like making a scene at the small family-owned ramen restaurant. I'm pretty sure my noodles aren't gluten-free either... you sigh. I can't eat this, gyu. he looks up from his meal to look at you and your bowl again. ok... he says, looking over to the kitchen before looking at you again. do you want a new one or something?

you look down with a slight shrug.

he looks at you blankly for a few seconds as he stirs his ramen before saying ...do you want me to tell them you need a new one?

you sheepishly nod and he scoffs. alright, i'll tell them my girlfriend decided to take her allergies seriously today, and to please take that into account when remaking the bowl.

he raises a hand and furiously waves it around to get your waiter's attention.

anything for you, you big old karen. i'll make sure you get the best gluten-free, soy-free, everything-good-free ramen they have here. and maybe even get us a discount! he loves to be dramatic... but at the end of the day, he will always step up when it really matters to you.

Soobin -> he loves making you vegan food at home, but can get a bit embarrassed in restaurants soobin loved to cook for you at home or take you to familiar restaurants, but sometimes, for special occasions, he would try to take you somewhere new and exciting that seemed to be getting good reviews as a date night spot online. normally, he would double and triple check to ensure there were vegan options, or at the very least, vegetarian options that could be made vegan, but he had told you tonight's restaurant was a bit of a gamble... and the overly cheesy burger in front of you seemed to be indicating a loss. are you sure you can't just... eat around it? soobin's wide eyes stare into yours as he makes the suggestion.

I mean, it's baked in... you take the bun off of your burger to show your boyfriend how the veggie burger appears to have real cheese and breadcrumbs baked into the patty.

both food items you could not have as a vegan. I mean... the waiter wrote down no cheese or breadcrumbs on this veggie burger. i'm sure it's just vegan cheese... he says, looking down at his own burger with a quick glance before looking back up at you.

just eat your burger, soobin. you say with a smile, not wanting him to go hungry just because you can't eat your meal. he shakes his head quickly, taking a sip of his cola. no, no... it doesn't feel right for you to just sit and watch me eat... you smile as you see his ears start to get a bit red. you look at him reassuringly with a smile. soob, come on. it's fine. i'll just ask them for a new one. you move to raise your hand, getting ready to deal with the awkward confrontation with the waiter before soobin puts his hand on top of yours.

no... we're out tonight to celebrate six months of you being my girlfriend. I... I can ask them to remake this burger but without the cheese or breadcrumbs like they said they could do for you. besides... I know how stressed you've been with your semester starting.

your heart skips a beat as soobin takes a deep breath and raises his hand, a tight-lipped smile on his face as he looks around the restaurant for your waiter. you really didn't mind speaking up for yourself, it was part of being a vegan, but it really warmed your heart to see soobin doing something for you even though it made him uncomfortable.

and when he quietly and politely explained the error to the waiter, you couldn't help but be endeared by his good manners and appreciation not only for you, but for service workers.

the waiter apologized profusely for bringing a vegetarian burger instead of vegan burger to the table, heavily discounted your meal, and even offered a complimentary dessert. to which soobin inquired, are any of your desserts dairy-free?

when the answer was no, he smiled cheekily and said the two of you were fine on desserts then, which confused you until a few hours later, when you entered his apartment and noticed a table full of intricately-decorated cookies, that he assures you are vegan.

your mouth can't help but fall open in shock over the pile of handmade cookies to which soobin cheekily says, why are you so surprised? his sudden confidence charming you even more. Kai -> he feels terribly that you can't eat your meal... but the best he can do is offer emotional support and advice when your pita comes out to the table in a tray with checkered paper, it is just filled to the brim with olives. though you're not one of those people who is super picky, you have to admit you've always had a massive aversion to olives.

though you'd normally just opt to pick the olives out of the pita, there are so many throughout it, in addition to pepperoncini and copious amounts of greek dressing... in all honesty, the whole pita just has to go. it's so soggy and poorly wrapped, you really don't know how you'd even manage to eat it. you look across the table to your boyfriend, shocked to find he is nearly done with his own pita. you watch him eat for a few seconds, amused by how absorbed he is in the flavors of the pita, before he finally fishes his and almost seems to come back to earth, looking at you with a stunned expression. (y/n), is something wrong? does your stomach hurt? you shake your head, feeling a little embarrassed over the fact you can't just suck it up and eat the soggy and overloaded-with-olives pita.

oh... it's just... this is really soggy. i'm not even sure I could pick it up without it falling apart. and it's filled with olives. he sucks his teeth, soft eyes looking at you with concern. oh no! maybe you can just use a fork and knife? you furrow your brows, knowing the flaws with the pita go beyond its structural weakness. It's also just full of olives and pepperoncini... I can't really eat this... kai looks around awkwardly, pulling on the strings of his hoodie before suddenly his face lights up and he eagerly offers a solution.

how about you order something else, and i'll just eat this one?

your eyes widen at his suggestion, and you can't help but laugh. but... you don't really like olives either? and it's so messy?

he shakes his head, already pulling your soggy pita towards himself. I don't mind eating it... and just ask the waiter for the menu again and order something else... I don't want to ask them to remake anything...

you laugh as you watch him pick up a fork and knife to eat the offending pita, and catch eyes with the waiter from across the restaurant to signal him to come back to the table. at least nights out with kai always have you laughing.

LEAST

[hannie-dul-set]

babe pls write anything for taehyun and my life will be yours 💞😠

[get your shit together]. kang taehyun has always been gifted with the sharpness to notice things first. thanks to this, he’s always been the one to swoop in at the last minute to save your group from trouble.

for example, in fourth grade, when you guys were fooling around in soobin’s living room a little too close to his mom’s favorite vase, taehyun noticed the old ceramic wobble before it could smash into the ground, right before his mom’s footsteps welcomed themselves in. another instance was during study hall in middle school, when you and beomgyu were playing connect four behind a stack of books, taehyun managed to kick your chairs from behind as a warning before your teacher could notice you two and send you to detention.

taehyun has always been pretty sharp. nothing goes under the radar. not even how kai lights up ever so subtly whenever you give him special attention. not even the shift in beomgyu’s gaze when you comforted him after his last breakup. not even how soobin keeps and keeps and keeps trying to flake out on hang-outs whenever you’re around. not even yeonjun’s half-assed attempts to stay in touch ever since he left for university.

“hey, get your fucking shit together.”

none of these things had gone unnoticed. he doesn’t understand why the other four are failing to notice things.

“do you think avoiding her is doing more good than harm? quit being selfish and think about just how much you’re hurting her by staying away and keeping your distance.”

because, really—

“why are you acting as if moving out of the neighborhood is such a big deal? so what if you’re in college now. soobin’s gonna follow you there next year anyway. you’re already far away as is and you’re making it even harder for us to reach you.”

it doesn’t take an untrained eye—

“can’t you see that unloading all your feelings for her is making her uncomfortable? burdensome? i get that you like her, but quit being caught up in your own emotions to the point where you’re failing to consider everyone else’s.”

nor does it take quick wits and sensibilities—

“seriously, what exactly do you want? you say one thing and do another. you swore to move on and get over it, but you’re still expecting things, you’re still latching onto the hope that something more could happen.”

to notice just how shitty you feel about all of this. 

“i feel like things have gotten awfully tangled lately,” you sigh. it’s the middle of the night, and you called taehyun over for a quick stroll around the neighborhood. obviously, that’s not the only reason why you called for his presence. “i miss the old days where we can all just hang out with no issues.”

when you look at taehyun with a somber smile, he feels something heavy press into his ribcage from the inside. it suffocates the life out of him. it clogs his throat, constricts his breathing. he gives your hand a squeeze as tight as how his lungs are feeling.

“don’t worry.”

once again, kang taehyun has to be the one to swoop in so that no one gets in trouble. so that no one gets uncomfortable. so that no one ruins the god damned ten years of friendship you guys have built just because of feelings they can’t keep under wraps. 

“i’ll fix it.”

but in order to do that—

your smile brightens. his chest feels tighter. 

—he needs to get his shit together.

“thank you.” 

he can’t let himself fall for you too.

send me a kpop boy (txt/enha/zb1/bnd/dream) to toss into reverse harem hell! [yeonjun] [beomgyu]

[channoticedmeuwu]

☆ WHO I THINK TXT IS WRITTEN BY !!

featuring — TUBATU & THEIR AUTHORS | g — headcanons, fluff, angst, slice of life, coming of age | w — NO PAIRING !! mention of food ++ not proofread

a/n — v much tried not to cry during soobin's,,,, watched this clip of him getting emotional during a live while reading moa's supportive comments & genuinely have sm respect for this man

CHOI YEONJUN

💽 ( SONG_REC. ) “POPULAR” — THE WEEKND

a schoolboy who just wants to be amongst the class. a teenage boy outgrowing his youth, and beginning to realize he's pushed everyone in his circle away, and panicking because maybe it's too late to mend relationships. the boy who's watching everyone grow with him, yet not with him. a boy watching his distanced friends link arms as they jog towards the canteen, watching the girls sit together as they absorb each other's quiet in the library, watching the group of friends sneak out of class and sit by the benches. a boy realizing he's not like everyone else; pictures of friends taking trips together on social media, envying the respective bonds of friends underneath a girl's post— her girlfriends commenting “you look amazing!!” “god, marriage when!?”, and then boys who'd tease her with throwing up emojis.

yeonjun is written by a boy who watches people partake in street fashion, groups of friends catching the train after school and falling asleep on each other's shoulders. yeonjun is the result of a boy who's learning to refuse isolation, a boy who's accepting his flaws and embracing them, a boy who's working on himself. a boy slowly realizing what beauty he can hold in himself, a boy realizing he's alone— but refuses to stay that way.

CHOI SOOBIN

💽 ( SONG_REC. ) “SNOW ON THE BEACH” — TAYLOR SWIFT

a woman who's watched her lover change into a cold person. a woman who's craving the warmth of an old lover, the comfort of a relationship that was too good to be true. a woman whose emotions get the better of her, a woman who misses the twinkle in the eyes of their lover. a woman who realizes that her love isn't being reciprocated the same way anymore, who watches her lover's skin turn colder by the second. a woman watching her lover be consumed by the winter of the universe, to be changed completely and transformed. and she can't do anything but cry— watch them and cry and hold their cheeks and beg for them to come back.

soobin's eyes reflect what love was lost after being savored for a while, soobin's smile thaws hearts of those like his author. soobin is not picture perfect; but he cups teary wet cheeks and empathizes like no other.

CHOI BEOMGYU

💽 ( SONG_REC.) “CALLING” — METRO BOOMIN

a peter parker who's just gotten bitten by his spider. beomgyu is everything that peter's expectations for himself are. peter, who wants to bury the factor of his own fear, who wants to be the hero everyone feels reassured to see. peter wants for his first instinct to not be panic, confusion, or to start making a far-fetched calculation that doesn't help him in the task at hand. peter wants to shrug at the face of danger— to not be afraid for his own leap of faith. peter wants to be carefree, a cheerful soul who doesn't have time to worry because of how fast he moves.

but as time moves on, maturity is what peter sought, not a pretty face with a cocky smile. and peter gives beomgyu depth as he grows himself, a sense of responsibility sharpening the features of a new spiderman, learning the ability to accept his own fear instead of just pushing it below. peter writes beomgyu to be brave; not fearless. someone who's humbled at his wins, who grows stronger at his loss.

but peter unknowingly soon manages to parallel the expectations he never thought he'd meet— and instead of building beomgyu to be someone he'd wish he were, he grew him to be just like him. to know when to laugh and to accept his own emotions when necessary, beomgyu turned out to be a carefree soul who believes in justice and his right to his own story.

KANG TAEHYUN

💽 ( SONG_REC. ) “THANK U, NEXT” — ARIANA GRANDE

a young lady who was nit-picked by the beauty standards of a black and white society. a young lady who never understood where her greys would fit. a woman who is growing to shun away a mold she is aware she would never fit. taehyun's unique beauty is a result of a mind curious to sculpt their own standard. a stubborn soul, who embraces their differences, who moves on from the fact that they are not like the others, and recognizes that it's what catches everyone else's attention.

taehyun's emotions are quick to reach his features, moulding themselves to reflect what his heart feels. his eyes turning softer, the corners of his lips growing into a smile, the tension in his forehead dissolving as he grows fonder; taehyun was written to be observed by those who were just like his author. those who recognized their own place in a community, or the lack of said position, and always embraced it. taehyun was the result of self indulgent art that stood as a symbol for those who appeared to not fit a “beauty standard” — whatever beauty standard meant, anyway. subjectivity was never meant to be moulded into a standard, and taehyun stood to be a reflection of that.

HUENINGKAI

💽 ( SONG_REC. ) “A MARRIED LIFE” FROM UP

two 5 year olds who met at preschool and now have distance in their friendship due to one of them moving out of town. a pair of children who sneakily panic when they realize they scribbled on the wall with crayon. children who struggle to throw snowballs at each other because of how cold snow feels. two kids who stare out the window and guess the cost of cars passing by based on how expensive they look. two kids who announce that they'd like to get married as a way to show their tight knit bond.

two kids who always left the corners of their sandwiches, and argued if the head or the butt of the dinosaur nugget should be eaten first. two kids, who'd cry if the other cries. two kids who are now too far apart from each other; overwhelming sadness only emerging from a tiny body in the form of incomprehensible tears.

two kids who begin writing to each other in colorful crayons, whose journey of writing to each other never reaches its end. two children who exceeded the height marks on their walls, who grew up to be able to fit more words in their letters. hueningkai is the spark of their relationship, the cursive and the colorful. an innocence which never grew into maturity when it came to each other, a pair of kids who were too old to sit on the porch and swing their legs, or watch clouds.

hueningkai is the tears prickling in their eyes when they run to each other after years, an embrace that sends heart palpitations towards toes. hueningkai is the innocence they never grew out of, a pair of former children crying in each other's arms, an overload of sensory, a platonic kiss to each other's forehead. a soulmate bond, and an unspoken understanding.

txt — masterlist

main taglist (hmu to get added!) — @koishua @navyhyuck @allegxdly @daystiny  @kdyism  @neotism  @bluejaem  @radiorenjun  @sleepylixie @oifelixcmerebrou @mrkcore @imdamnconfused  @sicluvz @abhirami20 @tyongishs @emvrd @brxght-world @1921choi @bangchansbae

I’d appreciate if you’d give me a little feedback on the drabble if you read, whether it’s an ask, a reply or in the tags of the rb! Thank you for reading and I hope you enjoyed!

[enluv]

#MUSICBANK_OUT !!

— idol!taehyun x idol!reader (fem)

synopsis: a oneshot in which taehyun and y/n are the (anticipated) newest music bank mcs but they actually hate one another behind the scenes – (y/n is part is lesserafim)

genre(s): smau oneshot, feud, enemies, crack?

cast: yunjin (lesserafim), ningning (aespa), IN (skz), & TXT!

warnings: cursing, die/kms jokes, mc & taehyun both wanna fight each other 😭, uhhhh lmk if I should add anything else!

txt taglist! @yeoforce @jaerang @bloom-bloom-pow @gyuuss @yourlocalhotgf @kyublr @spooooooooooon @enhacolor @butterfly-skinnylegend @dinosdance @888ollie @14shroud @junityy @soobin-chois @fairybinie @lolalee24 @ja4hyvn @crxzs - (bold can't be tagged, & if you'd like to be removed from the taglist or added please let me know!)

coco’s love note: remember that poll i sent out? yeah this is what that was for 🤭 anyways hope you enjoy it toots!! i don’t write for taehyun often so this was super duper fun !! – lmk if you want more of this or if I should keep it as a oneshot! + feedback is always appreciated so lmk what you think about this!!

[fairyhaos]

. . . 𖹭 TOMORROW X TOGETHER ;

↻ looking for the svt masterlist?

r - romantic ; p - platonic ; y - yena's pick ; f - fluff ; a - angst

units :

choi line + "i would ___ for you" : a

synaesthesia series :

soobin according to my synaesthesia : f

yeonjun according to my synaesthesia

beomgyu according to my synaesthesia : f

taehyun according to my synaesthesia

huening kai according to my synaesthesia

[sunlightwoo]

the sun and the cloud

pairing: taehyun x gn reader

genre: comfort fic, a little bit of heavy angst, fluff warnings: mentions of mental health and burn outs | rating 16+

wc: 1.2k 

a/n: hey everyone! so lately i’ve been in a mental slump with my personal life and after talking to a few friends, i thought people might be in the same boat as me when it comes to being burnt out, and that’s okay. if you ever feel like you need to talk to someone, i hope i can be that person for you guys whether you reach out to me, or just read this fic as it will be a small piece that hopefully gives you the comfort that we need sometimes. 

When Taehyun comes back after a long day of practice, he couldn’t wait to come home to your shared apartment to tell you a funny moment that happened to your best friend Kai. He knew that it was something you would’ve also laughed yourself to tears at, the same way he was when it first happened. 

It was too funny to even speak about it properly, without laughs, he recalls when he tried to reexplain what had happened to Soobin.

However, the moment that he stepped foot into the place after inputting the password went from happy thoughts to a gloomy darkness that filled your living room. There was nothing but the sound of a familiar show being played in the background of what seemed like it came from your bedroom filling the white noise. He was wondering why you weren’t out here yet to greet him, like you usually do on days like today, which was any other day.

“Sweetheart, you awake?” He whispered quietly, feet padding against the hardwood floor to your room after he placed his sneakers on the little shoe rack he remembers getting with you at Ikea days ago. 

What could’ve happened between then and now? 

The sight he was greeted with when he entered the room had him confused, seeing as you were in a blanket burrito that you had probably wrapped yourself into earlier and asleep. If it were any other day, he’d be able to tell that you were sleeping soundly with the quiet breaths and snores that were leaving your lips, but he was able to notice it. 

How dark the circles under your eyes were, how puffy they ended up being from probably crying for a while; how long have you felt like this? 

“Baby…” 

There’s a frown on his face as he quietly turns down the volume of the tv so that there was nothing but the silence engulfing both him and your sleeping figure. He was tempted to hold you in his arms right now, to at least try to figure out why you tried to hide everything from him, but it seems as though his subconscious beat him to it as he was slowly reaching out to brush your cheek softly with his hand. 

He notices how you stir in your sleep for a moment and your eyes slowly peel open, your head leaning into his touch as you do so and there’s a small smile that you give him from your spot. However, he notices how the sparkle that used to be in your eyes was now dulled a bit and the smile doesn’t meet with the impression that you were trying to give to him. 

“Why are you letting your fire burn out, my love?” He mumbles quietly, still holding your cheek in his hand and maybe that was it. 

The moment that you had woken up from your accidental nap, you remembered how you had gotten to where you were. These last few weeks you had been caught up in your school work in uni while working part time at a nearby cafe, but with the school year finally wrapping up, you were trying to rest up and enjoy all the free time you had to spend with Taehyun and your friends before you were taken away to work more than you were used to at your job for the summer. 

Maybe that was when your burn out was starting to take a toll on you. Maybe it had even been there before you noticed it, because you couldn’t even remember how your entire semester had gone through given that this was your third year. 

However with what he had just asked you now, you could feel the tears that you had shed earlier start to prick at the corners of your eyes. Your lips quivered slightly and you bit it to avoid any noise leaving them, hands gripping onto the blanket burrito that was slowly coming apart but maybe that was because of the welcoming warmth that was ready to engulf you now was Taehyun’s arms that were wrapped around your waist. 

He swiftly picked you up so that you were now cuddling with him beneath you, your face hidden into his chest as tear stains were made, but nothing could leave your lips. All that you were able to hear were his soft whispers of everything being okay while his hand rubbed and down your back slowly. 

“I’m so tired, Tyun…” You hiccuped quietly, looking up at him as he wiped the stray hairs away from where they were sticking onto your face and you could see the small frown on his face. 

“I know, sweetheart, I know,” He whispers back and the sigh that leaves from his chest makes you feel even more upset, because you could tell that he hated how much he couldn’t do much in this situation. 

However, him being here when you needed him most felt like everything to you. 

“But I’ll make sure that we get through this together, one step at a time. You’re not going to be alone in this, I won’t let you.” 

He reaches down to place a small kiss on your nose from when you were still looking up at him, making you scrunch it up for a moment before placing your head back down against his chest. However, he was right, because no matter how bad life will get or how tired you may be from the external factors of the universe, you’re going to come home to the greatest support system that you have today. 

“I don’t think I deserve-”

“You do, and you can’t keep beating yourself up for things that are out of your control.” He says almost immediately, making you look back up again to see that his facial expression changed into one that was almost playful and mischievous, like he knew what you were going to say. 

But he knows that you knew you meant no harm. 

There were days where like today, thunderstorms were surrounding your head for who knows how long they had been there. But for the days with the sun and the warm breeze comes Taehyun to push them all away, making sure that you take the time to heal and feel loved at your own pace. Because you deserve everything good that comes to the world, even if it means going through some rough patches. 

“I love you lots, Taehyun.” 

“I love you too, you got this,” He smiles and places one more kiss or two on both your forehead and then a quick peck on your lips, before he thought of something to potentially cheer you up, even if it was just temporarily. 

“Do you want to hear about how Kai broke the tv after playing with a hoverboard? He ended up hitting himself in the head with a soccer ball in the middle of it.” 

The introduction to the story itself made you feel intrigued, the thunderstorms slowly going away as Taehyun quietly retells the story that he told Soobin earlier in a more calm tone, knowing that it was maybe too soon to start laughing now. But when he heard soft giggles come out from you at the best part, he knew that his job for now was done as he held you closer to him for the rest of the night. 

permanent taglist: @viastro​ @bbanghoonie​ @wooyoung-a​ @pwttychannie​ @sunwoahkim​ @karsohn​ @escapewriter​ @awfullytiredbuthealing​ @fylithia​ @i4deonu​ @flrtsbin​ @whereisgyu​ @myluv-yeonjun​ @allorysayshi​ @nlnkm​ @jannine00742​ @rebsmoonn​ @jjhmk​ @ilvaussie​ @idontwanttobehereanymore​ @beomgyugyu​ @99cyj​ @rebsmoonn​ @butterflx​ @theoskies​ @biuebinnie​ @ja4hyvn​ @ilovechanhee​ @wccycc​ @invuwrld​ @ahnneyong​ @bambi-vixey​ @soobprised​ @comic-wanda​ @ksunwooqt​ @black-rose-29​ @jaysbestie​ @glyxiebear​ @strawbrinkofdeath​ @vatterie​ @marsophilia​ @seungkwan-s​ @jinjccns​ @rosymetal​ @fairybinie​ @justalittlwtooshy​ @ineedsomezzz​ @serendipityjaemin​ @lilactangerine​ @baekberrie​ @theskzvibe​ (add yourself to my permanent taglist here!)

cannot tag: @brinnalaine @iovaki @cowboyjaehyun @soobin-chois @kpoploverforever27 @Xoxozainab @f1usw @flowergirl95 @sadbixth11 @yoonslefttoe @allyg-onz @lilyluvsgyu @sunwooskies @artgukk @magicalstudentwhispers @yurikkiri @ineedaherosavemenow @msxflower @luv-ivi @ashxxkook

[3raaaachachacha]

4:41 pm 

Choi Beomgyu x female reader / 630 words / angst / fluff

Warnings: mentions of anxiety, panic attack

⊱ ──────────────────────── ⊰

It had been a long day of promotions for the boys. It was back-to-back interviews and live performances, and you could see a few of them losing their energy. You had been a part of TXT’s team since they debuted and you had grown close to the members by being just slightly older than them. They looked up to you since you always encouraged them and somehow understood how they felt, even when they didn’t seem to quite know. 

You were closest to Beomgyu after being the first person to notice his severe underlying anxiety. He always acted happy and crazy on camera, but in reality, he was quiet and didn’t need to be in the spotlight all the time. He felt like everyone always would judge him, that he wasn’t good enough to be in TXT, that he was a filler member, but you knew better. 

After an uncomfortable interview, Beomgyu quickly moved to the van, while the others stayed to mingle, not noticing Gyu slipping out the back. You, on the other hand, did notice and followed him at a quick pace, knowing what was about to happen.

He opened the door, shutting it behind him as his breathing became ragged, feeling as if there was no escape from the panic and tightness in his chest. He gasped for air, holding onto the roof handle. You opened the door with wide eyes, entering and moving towards him carefully.

You took his hand in yours, feeling his grip tighten around you, “Gyu, it’s me, Y/N. It’s okay, everything is going to be okay, even if you don’t think it will. I’m here for you. No one is going to hurt you.”

Gyu lazily opened his eyes as he turned to you, still trying to breathe, but failing miserably. He moved towards you as you opened your arms to engulf him in your warm chest. He buried himself there, trying to find your heartbeat to calm his rapid one. 

You ran your fingers through his soft locks as your other hand held him steady, “It’s okay Gyu. You did amazing, even though I know you are exhausted. You did so great, remember that.” 

He slowly began to breathe at a normal pace with your help as he move to sit up. You steadied him to make sure he wouldn’t fall over or faint. Beomgyu smiled down at you with happiness in his tired eyes, “What would I do without you?”

Your eyes went big. This was the first time you’d ever heard something like that come out of his mouth. Usually, he would be embarrassed after having a panic attack, but something was different about him.

“Gyu,” You began, not knowing what words you needed to say as he smiled more lively at you.

Before you could say anymore, you felt his lips attach to yours in a soft peck, catching you off guard, “Thank you for always being here for me, even when I pushed you away.”

A red blush lit your cheeks up as you tried your best not to stutter, “I was only doing my job.”

He chuckled lightly, taking your hand in his as he began to play with your fingers, “No other staff has ever helped me like you have. No one has ever been so supportive and caring toward me. It’s more than just your job and you know it.”

You met his eyes as you smiled shyly, “Okay, you caught me red-handed.”

He pulled you closer to him as you heard his heartbeat relax, “I’ll make sure I’m there for you more too. That’s what boyfriends do,” Your eyes went wide as he winked at you with a sweet smile on his face. That was the face you loved to see on him.

⊱ ──────────────────────── ⊰

- Admin 🦋

[cbeargyu]

txt as romantic tropes

soobin - friends to lovers

he is your childhood best friend, the boy with the softest eyes and the warmest hands. everyone thinks you're already dating, but you've both been to scared to say it out louder. until one day, he brushes your hair behind your ear and says your name like a confession.

"do you ever think about us?"

"all the time"

yeonjun - enemies to lovers

he is your rival at the publishing internship— snarky, stylish, and annoyingly good at everything. you swear he lives to one-up you in meeting and steal the last coffee pod. but when you both get signed to co-write a feature, hate turns to banter, banter turns to tension, and tension... well, you know the rest.

"you rewrite my sentences one more time and I'm filing a complaint"

"only if you stop pretending you don't love it when I challenge you."

beomgyu - soulmates reunited

you meet him at a street festival— he's playing guitar, laughing like the world's always been good to him. but the moment your eyes lock, it's like deja vu. flashes of other lives, other times. he remembers the dreams too. maybe soulmates always find each other... again and again.

"do you believe in past lives?"

"I think I've loved you in all of them."

taehyun - one-sided love

you've love him quietly for years- through his heartbreaks, his dreams, his late-nights rants about life and lyrics. he calls you his favorite person, but never the one. still, yo stay, smiling through the ache, because having part of him feels better than having none at all.

"do you ever wish things were different?"

"only every time I look at you."

huening kai - love at first sight

he spills his bubble tea on your book in the campus library and apologizes with the kind of smile that makes you brain short-circuit. you end up talking about stars, favorite snacks, and dreams that feel too big. and somehow, it all feels like the start of something unforgettable.

"can i see you again"

"you just met me"

"i know. but i already miss you"

[bluhourz]

when you're a rookie

-

The air buzzed with excitement as your group made your way onto the red carpet, the cameras flashing and reporters calling out for your attention. This was your first major awards show as a rookie idol, and it felt as surreal as it was overwhelming.

“Smile, leader,” one of your members whispered with a nudge.

“I am!” you hissed back, though your cheeks were already beginning to ache from grinning so much.

You stepped forward for an interview, the microphone handed to you as the reporters launched into their questions.

“[Group Name], congratulations on your debut this year! How does it feel to be here tonight?”

“It’s an honor to be surrounded by so many incredible artists,” you answered, your voice steady despite the nerves fluttering in your chest. “We’ve dreamed of this moment for so long, and we’re so thankful to our fans and everyone who has supported us.”

As you wrapped up the interview and headed into the venue, one of your members whispered, “You’re so good at this. I’d be shaking like a leaf.”

“Trust me, I am,” you replied, clutching your dress.

The venue was breathtaking, with its grand stage, glittering lights, and rows of impeccably dressed idols. You settled into your seats with your group, still trying to wrap your head around the fact that you were actually here.

“Look, even Zerobaseone is here!” one of your members whispered, pointing discreetly.

Your eyes followed theirs, scanning the crowd. That’s when you saw him.

Soobin. Leader of Tomorrow x Together.

He sat just a few rows ahead, his profile illuminated by the soft glow of the stage lights. He looked effortlessly elegant, his tailored suit highlighting his tall frame and his soft features making him look almost angelic.

Without thinking, you whispered, “He’s so pretty, I think I’m going to faint.”

One of your members whipped their head toward you, biting back a laugh. “Did you just say that out loud?”

You immediately turned crimson. “No, I didn’t!” you hissed, even though your burning cheeks betrayed you.

Your member smirked, leaning closer. “You totally did. You’re staring at him!”

“I am not,” you whispered furiously, but your eyes betrayed you again, flicking back toward him.

That’s when it happened. As if he could feel your gaze, Soobin turned his head slightly, his eyes scanning the crowd until they landed on you.

Your heart stopped. For a moment, you were locked in his gaze, his eyes wide with curiosity. Then, your brain finally kicked in, and you ducked your head, pretending to adjust your earring.

“He saw you,” your member whispered, barely holding in their laughter.

“Shut up,” you muttered, covering your face with your hands.

From the corner of your eye, you noticed Soobin turning back to his members, a faint smile tugging at his lips.

The night continued with dazzling performances and awards. As the Rookie of the Year category approached, your group sat in nervous anticipation, holding hands under the table.

“And the winner of Rookie of the Year is… [Group Name]!”

The room erupted in applause, and for a second, you froze. It wasn’t until your members tugged at you, squealing in excitement, that you realized it was real. You were walking up to the stage, your heart pounding as you accepted the trophy.

Standing at the microphone, you took a deep breath, the weight of the moment sinking in. “Thank you so much for this incredible honor,” you began, your voice shaking slightly. “We’ve worked so hard to get here, and this award means everything to us. Thank you to our fans, our company, and everyone who has supported us. This is only the beginning, and we’ll keep working hard to make you proud.”

The audience clapped, and as you bowed, you couldn’t resist glancing toward Soobin’s table. He was clapping enthusiastically, his smile soft and genuine. Your cheeks burned, and you quickly turned back to follow your group off the stage.

Back at your seat, one of your members leaned over. “Caught you looking again,” they teased.

“I wasn’t!” you protested, though your face was bright red.

After the ceremony, the lobby buzzed with idols mingling, congratulating each other, and snapping photos. You were standing with your group when a soft voice interrupted.

“Congratulations.”

You turned and froze. Soobin was standing just a few feet away, his tall frame and warm smile making your heart race.

“T-thank you,” you stammered, bowing quickly.

“You were amazing tonight,” he said, his voice gentle. “Your speech was really touching, and your group did so well. I can see why you won.”

You blinked, trying to process his words. “Thank you… That means so much coming from you.”

He chuckled softly, his dimples showing. “From me? You’re the one who just won Rookie of the Year.”

“I-I mean… you’re Soobin,” you blurted, immediately cringing at how flustered you sounded.

He laughed, the sound warm and comforting. “And you’re the leader of [Group Name]. I’ve been hearing great things about you guys.”

You felt like your heart might explode. “Thank you. We’re huge fans of TXT. It’d be amazing to share a stage with you someday.”

“I’d like that too,” he said, his smile softening. “Until then, keep working hard. I’ll be cheering you on.”

With one last smile, he turned to rejoin his members, leaving you standing there, your heart racing.

As soon as he was gone, one of your members ran up to you. “Did that just happen?”

You nodded, still in a daze.

“You’re so obvious,” they teased, but you didn’t care. That night, you went home with a trophy in your hand and a memory in your heart that you’d cherish forever.

[weeeeeekly]

the inheritance – hybrid!ot5 txt x human gn!reader

🐾・・・🐾・・・🐾・・・🐾・・・🐾

blurb !!! Your grandmother left behind her home to you in her will. As a recent college grad, you take on the responsibilities – you never expected to find 5 hybrids living in your new home

info !!! gender neutral pronouns for reader, no reader body shape mention, no use of y/n, non-idol au, hybrid au, strangers to lovers, ot5 txt x reader, kinda a/b/o, inspired by the monster’s bride webtoon, ppulbatu, & txt lore (please do not ask me about it bcuz I don’t know anyyyythingg)

WARNINGS !!! SFW but MDNI 18+ blog, swearing, not proofread just pure free flowing thought, wouldn’t recommend reading if you were close to your grandmother, she passed away, & are still grieving

wc 2k

author’s note !!! if you don’t like it – don’t read it!

🐾・・・🐾・・・🐾・・・🐾・・・🐾 CHAPTER FOUR

Dinner had been going smoothly.

You all sat down at the kitchen table to eat; the table laid out, with help from Soobin and Kai, with food you prepped with a last-minute trip to the grocery store. The food all matched their dietary needs that you hastily listed in your phone’s notes after asking them earlier in the store.

Your guests dig in as you carefully watch their reactions, knowing that if they were not pleased you would be upset but if they were pleased you would still be upset because you still don’t know how you were going to make enough money to keep the house, get necessities, and help for the guys.

Yeonjun nudges you shoulder as look at him confused.

“I’ve been calling your name.”

“Oh, you have? What’s up?”

“Thank you for making us dinner.”

And he grins at you showing his smiles, canine teeth on display. You weren’t expecting that, you feel your face heat up.

“It’s no problem.” Throwing a smile back at him.

“Can you pass the salt?”

Beomgyu shrugs at Yeonjun. “I don’t know, can I?”

The fox hybrid rolls his eyes, “Can you please pass the salt?”

“I don’t like the way you said ‘please’.” Beomgyu moves the salt farther from Yeonjun.

“Pass the salt, mutt.”

Beomgyu’s eyes widen as his jaw slacks. “What did you call me?”

“Mutt – which is what you are!”

“Holy fuck.” You lean forward resting your elbows on the table, cradling your head in your hands in hopes to quell the throbbing headache you were currently nursing.

Your headache could have dissipated if not for the incessant noise in the form of arguing happening at the dinner table. Thanks to Beomgyu and Yeonjun’s fight, Soobin and Taehyun tried to calm them down, Kai in turn made a passing comment about how Soobin finally figured out how to read the room making Soobin argue with him. Taehyun could only do so much when Beomgyu then began insulting Soobin as well.

Shutting your eyes, you press your palms against your ears in attempt to drown out the noise, but to no avail. Your patience breaks when Yeonjun begins throwing salt at Beomgyu, and in turn, adding unnecessary levels of salt to the food on the table – the same food you just spent so much time preparing.

“Oh my god!” You stand up abruptly causing your chair to fall to the ground and slam your hands on the table. “Stop fighting and sit down NOW!”

As if you had magic, all 5 guys immediately sit down in their chairs and shut up. None of them dare to move.

“If you excuse me, but I’m going to shower and then sleep in my room – alone. Wash the dishes and toss it the food because it’s too far salty to be saved.” You turn on your heel and stomp upstairs, slamming the bathroom door behind you.

You spend the rest of your night in your room, stewing in anger under the covers of your bed. The quietness in the room is a stark contrast to the kitchen.

Sighing, you pull down on your sleep mask and drift into a very unrestful sleep of constant tossing and turning.

🐾・・・🐾・・・🐾・・・🐾・・・🐾・・・🐾・・・🐾・・・🐾

After finally falling asleep once you heard birds chirping, waking up to no surprises in your bed was off putting. Usually by now either Soobin or Beomgyu would be putting half of their body weight on you after sneaking in during the night, but your outburst must have got through to them. You do feel bad, having an outburst in front of them after knowing for less than a week.

Gathering all your strength to get up, you get out of bed and begin getting ready for the day. Nothing too exciting since you just showered and changed out of your pajamas into stay-at-home clothes. It was surprising that when you walked out of your room to the bathroom to hear no loud noises from downstairs where the guys were.

When you’re done, you go back to the kitchen to see that it was spotless, and the trash was taken out. You peek into the living room to see if any of them were on the couch, but it was empty. Calling out their names as you move about the house as your nerves are growing. You hope that they didn’t run away.

As you frantically run around the house, a figure in the widow makes you pause. In the background are your roommates.

“Uh, you guys scared me why are you–?”

Stopping mid sentence at the sight of Soobin in his dog form, looking lethargic.

“Holy shit, is he sick?!”

Taehyun tells you, “We think he ate some chocolate.”

“Shit. Is there anything I can get him? Some over the counter meds to throw it up? I’ll call my friend again.”

🐾・・・🐾・・・🐾・・・🐾・・・🐾・・・🐾・・・🐾・・・🐾

After a long phone call with your friend, you have the list of medications that will have Soobin feeling better in no time. You’re browsing through the aisles of the pharmacy with your headphones on playing your favorite playlist when a tap on your shoulder pulls your attention. Turning to your left as you pause the music playing to move the headphones to your neck.

The pretty redhead smiles at you with a dazzling smile as she says your name with the sweetest tone.

“Uh, do I know you…?”

“It’s me, Maddie!”

You feel the air get sucked out of the room as the sound around you turns into tv static. This can’t be the same Madeleine that you were best friends with for the first 2 years of middle school until the first day of 8th grade she decided to stop which broke your 13-year-old heart.

It’s true that when you’re 13 – it feels like the entire universe is against you, but you’ll never forget that feeling when you jogged up to her at 7 AM all bright-eyed and bushy-tailed dressed up in new clothes and ight makeup you begged your mom to let you wear only to watch Maddie’s face turn to disgust as you waved. The malice in her voice as she made fun of your outfit and acted like the last 2 years meant nothing to her. But you change your mind a lot in middle school when you’re desperately trying to fit in.

“Oh, Maddie. I didn’t recognize you.”

She surprises you by throwing her arms around your shoulders, “You haven’t changed!”

You’re not sure if that was a compliment or a jab at your style for not changing since middle school, too stressed out over Soobin’s health to mull over it too much. You pat her back and move backwards, turning your attention back to the shelf to grab the last bottle you need, dumping it into the basket.

“It really is nice to see you again after all this time.” She tells you.

“Did you enjoy going to Academy for high school?”

She snorts, “I barely made it a month before being homeschooled! Didn’t have any friends the rest of high school. It sucked, but kinda serves me right for being so nasty to you in middle school.”

Oh, so she did reflect on how her actions have consequences.

“I have to head home, but it was… nice seeing you again.” You say with a small smile.

Maddie gasps as she grabs your free hand. “We should get lunch and catch up!”

The comment makes you freeze in place as her hazel eyes stare into your soul, trying to telepathically make you say “yes”. You love seeing the goodness in other people and people do grow up and change, but part of you wants to protect your younger self and turn her offer down.

She notices your hesitation. “Here, I’ll write my number down if you want to have lunch. No pressure!”

And with that, she twirls around and walks out of the store, leaving you to wonder if she stopped you from outside the store window or if this was all by coincidence.

🐾・・・🐾・・・🐾・・・🐾・・・🐾・・・🐾・・・🐾・・・🐾

“Guys, I’m back!” You yell into the house as you put the car keys into the bowl by the door. You hear the footsteps of the guys rushing from downstairs as you slip your indoor shoes on.

Yeonjun, Beomgyu, Taehyun, and Kai form a wall around you as they throw question after question at you. It’s when you take your coat off when their faces turn from glee to grimace.

“Something reeks.” Yeonjun snaps

“Um.” You say taking full offense of his comment. Quickly ducking your head to your armpit to see if your deodorant wore off only to still smell “fresh & clean”. “Excuse you.”

Taehyun shakes his head as he takes your coat from you, holding it as far away as his arm length would allow him. “No, we smell someone else.”

“But I didn’t –.”

You remember that Maddie hugged you. The guys are probably smelling her with their hybrid senses, in fear of causing another fight like last night’s dinner, you step backwards.

“Is there anything I can do? Take a medical grade shower? Lather tomato paste like a skunk attack?”

“Don’t see other people.”

Kai hits the back of Beomgyu’s head as he complains.

“Well?” You cross your arms in an attempt to lessen the smell of others.

“There’s one thing that would help.”

“Yeonjun.” Taehyun grits out.

“What? I promise I’ll try to be understanding.”

“Could we… scent you? Like rub your wrist against our neck, it’ll transfer our scent to you and you’ll smell like us. Like our pack.”

Oh.

If you think back to your freshman year of college, you remember reading something about scenting with hybrids for your intro to humanities class. How it calms one to have all members of their pack smelling like them.

“You think I’m part of the pack?”

Without missing a beat Kai answers, “Of course you are.”

The thought of being welcomed into their pack makes your heart flutter. This is all you wanted growing up – people that wanted you.

“Well, I won’t stop you from scenting. It’s okay, guys.”

All their jaws slack as their eyes flicker to each other, still unsure if you’re agreeing. You nod once more at their hesitation and with that final confirmation, Yeonjun and Beomgyu pull you into a hug. Your eyes widen at how close up you’re seeing these eternal beings; Yeonjun’s full lips that trace over your left wrist, Beomgyu’s long lashes brushing against your right wrist, Taehyun’s nose over your left shoulder, and Kai’s blonde hair tickling your right ear as he finds your pulse point below your jaw. You tighten your fists as you try your best to maintain your composure at the slightly intimate moment.

You duck under their arms and through their legs when you see Soobin standing at the edge of the staircase, holding his stomach.

“Soobin! I have your meds!” You rush out as grab your purse that was placed on the couch, hastily grabbing the various bottles. Offering your hands out to him as your chest moves up and down.

“Thanks.” He weakly smiles as one hand goes to grab a bottle.

🐾・・・🐾・・・🐾・・・🐾・・・🐾・・・🐾・・・🐾・・・🐾

Soobin begrudgingly takes the meds you bought him and, thankfully, he’s back to his regular self within the hour.

You turn to leave the guest room to let Soobin rest more when you pause at the doorway. The first two times you woke up, you had woken up with Soobin sleeping next to you (and on top of you), so you assume that he has a habit of doing this. And you still feel bad for how dinner went.

Oh, screw it.

“Can I sleep next to you?”

Soobin sits up as he gives you a confusing look.

“I’d like to have a little sleepover. I feel bad about how dinner went and then you got sick.”

“I would like that.”

You head back to your room to grab your pillows sending Yeonjun a smile as you pass him by in the hallway. Soobin scoots over as you lay down on one side, putting the pillows in between you two. He makes no mention of it as you close your eyes.

“Good night, Soobin.”

“Good night.”

masterlist | previous | next

author’s note it’s a christmas miracle! i finally updated ti!! so this is my present to you.

missing soobin every single day. i hope tubatu are enjoying their break <3

[agustdiv1ne]

ᯓ★ TXT M.LIST

— SOOBIN

that's the spirit! — ghost hunter!sb, high school au — f ; a

a couple weeks before halloween, you find the quiet boy from your high school staring up into your bedroom. you're a little creeped out, and miles more scared, but then he tells you something that changes how you see, well, everything.

wc: 14.6k

timestamps:

~ 10:52 p.m. — college classmate!sb — f

~ 10:21 p.m. — bf!sb — m ⚠︎

~ 9:51 p.m. — serial killer!sb — m

au's:

~ cosplayer!soobin — m

+ some soft thoughts abt watching jjk w/ him

~ late night outing w/ boyfriend!soobin — f

~ first time meeting odi w/ boyfriend!soobin — f

blurbs:

~ magic island — f

— YEONJUN

home sweet home — est. relationship au — m

he was insatiable, even at your parents' house.

wc: 2.8k

candy hearts — best friends to lovers au — f ; a

spending valentine's day with your best friend had become a sort of tradition for you two ever since you were seven years old. despite the twists and turns in your friendship as both of you grew up, the one thing that never changed was the box of candy hearts that he placed in your hands every year.

wc: 10.5k

pose — model!yj, assistant!reader — f ; a ; m

being world-famous model choi yeonjun's personal assistant wasn't easy. after six months on the job, however, you'd say that you had a pretty decent grasp on it. now, with fashion month right around the corner, it was your duty to make sure everything was in order, but of course a few things didn't go as planned.

wc: 12.5k

give me more — est. relationship au — m ⚠︎

your boyfriend loves making you feel good...perhaps a little too much.

wc: 1k

ticket to nowhere (but your heart) — strangers to lovers au, photographer!yj, artist!reader — f ; a ; m ⚠︎

twelve days. twelve days is all you have on this godforsaken train to find the spark that will save your dying art career — but you never thought that you would find it in the enigmatic stranger that you can’t seem to stop running into.

wc: 22.3k

timestamps:

~ 9:05 p.m. — bf!yj — m ⚠︎

part 2: 9:23 p.m. — m

~ 12:43 a.m. — best friend!yj — m

~ 11:01 p.m. — rockstar!yj — m

au's:

~ sweet frat boy!yeonjun — f

~ picnic date w/ boyfriend!yeonjun — f

~ early mornings w/ boyfriend!yeonjun — f

~ vacation w/ boyfriend!yeonjun — f

~ a very sexy cowboy!yeonjun — s

— BEOMGYU

telepathy — mind reader!bg, strangers to ??? — m

most people would abhor a packed subway car — but beomgyu, telepathist extraordinaire, relishes in it. with a career in the funeral business, he finds his morning commute to be the only thing that keeps him relatively sane. reading the mundane thoughts of mundane people maintains his tether to his humanity, but when he goes to read your mind...oh, things get a whole lot more interesting.

wc: 11.7k

timestamps:

~ 3:13 a.m. — vampire!gyu — m

au's:

~ cocky sub!beomgyu x femdom!tutor!reader, college au — m

— TAEHYUN

timestamps:

~ 2:56 p.m. — lab partner!th — f

au's:

~ nerd!taehyun — m

— HUENINGKAI

timestamps:

~ 8:02 p.m. — jack frost!kai — f ; a

— MULTI-MEMBER

timestamps:

~ 11:58 p.m. — fratboys!taejun — m

thoughts:

~ finding out you have an onlyfans — m

~ best friend!txt finding out that you write smut about him — m

© to agustdiv1ne. do not copy, repost, steal, and/or translate.

[yoonbroom]

TOMORROW X TOGETHER FIC RECS

a list of TXT fics I really enjoyed! pls go and show these amazing authors some love <3 if there wasn't a summary I just included a little blurb from the fics! now onto the recs ↓

CHOI SOOBIN

IT'S YOU!! YOU'RE THE ONE THAT I WANT!!! - @koqabear

oneshot, fluff, angst, friends to lovers

Witty jokes? Didn’t really work. Pick up lines? Been there, done that. Now he probably just thinks you’re corny. These are two of many (many) methods that you used to try and get Choi Soobin, your classmate, your friend, and your husband (though he doesn’t know it yet) to notice you. Come on Soobin!!! You’re practically throwing yourself at him and yet, nothing. Is he blind, or just a robot? It’s time to find out.

FAIRY OF SHAMPOO - @02chois

series, fluff, idol au, friends to lovers, smau

soobin found his own fairy of shampoo. the one that makes him smile whenever they show up on screen, and even manages to brighten up his day whenever he's upset. but this feels a little familiar, isn't it? he hopes it won't be like the song they released. he wants to be able to face the fairy that casted a spell on him without the screen between them.

CHOI YEONJUN

JUST A LITTLE TIPSY! - @aakomii

oneshot, fluff, established relationship, idol au

Taehyun calling you to pick up your wasted boyfriend after their videoshoot with Suga!

SOFT MOMENTS WITH YEONJUN - @blue-jisungs

oneshot, fluff, est relationship, idol au

"Hihii!! Your writings are so incredibly good like you deserve to be one of the big 3 writers of kpop fanfic dead serious here. Can i request random moments with idol yeonjun!! In the dorm, practice room, with the members. Just random moments while dating yeonjun :))"

CHOI BEOMGYU

ATTENTION - @/aakomii

oneshot, fluff, college

Everyone and their mama knows about Beomgyu’s massive crush on you. Even you do, but you’ve never given the poor boy a chance. He’s not complaining though, he loves the chase and you love the attention.

ETERNALLY - @h4chi

series, fluff, angst, fake dating, friends to lovers, idol au, smau

yn works as a producer for the companies BigHit and SM. one day she founds herself victim of a dating scandal, but what will happen when she agrees with her company to a dating rumor?

LOVE YOU, LOVE YOU, LOVE YOU... - @wildernessuntothemselves

oneshot, fluff, angst, smut, arranged marriage, royalty

You go into your arranged marriage already distrusting your husband and all other men, and despite him repeatedly attempting to gain your favor, you are resolved to rebuke him at every turn. Will you manage to keep up the walls you’ve built to protect yourself, or will prince Beomgyu succeed in getting through your defenses?

HOW TO GET THE GIRL - @ijhyo

oneshot, fluff, angst, friends to lovers, college

lee chaeryeong is the most sought after girl in your school. everyone has fallen victim to her charms, including choi beomgyu and it is no surprise that he wants to try and win her over. what is a surprise is that he came to you for help considering that one: you have never spoken to him in your life, and two: you have no connection to chaeryeong at all. well, except for your beginners music composition class.

TOTALLY UNLABELED KISS - @heart2beom

oneshot, fluff, best friends to lovers

in which you and beomgyu teeter between being normal best friends and well...best friends who makeout from time to time.

KANG TAEHYUN

태현 소프트 시간 ⟡ [8:26 AM] - @kazmura

drabble, fluff, est relationship

"As the sun's gentle rays streamed through the curtains, casting a warm glow in the room, you slowly stirred awake, greeted by the peaceful stillness of the morning. The soft sheets tangled around your body, and you shifted slightly, feeling the weight of Taehyun's arm draped over your waist, holding you close in a comforting embrace."

HERO - @btxtreads

series, fluff, angst, idol, samu

"Heavily based off of the Disney Channel Original Movie “Starstruck”

OMG - @eundiarys

series, fluff, angst, idol au, smau, fake dating

in which — yn who just debuted gets into a dating scandal with one of the most famous group members because of a misunderstanding and is forced to fake date with him. what happens if it isn’t as bad as she thinks? and and what if she finds comfort with him? (❗️ — dia’s jueun is used to potray yn! )

SEASONS (WAITING ON YOU) - @noramoons

oneshot, fluff, angst, college

when your high school sweetheart choi yeonjun is off to grad school, you aren’t too worried about how your relationship will last—but your favorite coworker, kang taehyun, is. OR: a study in the seasons of loving and losing choi yeonjun—and how you put yourself back together afterwards.

HUENING KAI

LONELY BOY WILL STAY LONELY? - @awmancreeper

series, fluff, angst, idol au, enemies to lovers

StayC’s Y/n is notorious for being K-pop’s social butterfly and making friends comes rather easy for her. When she’s asked to be an MC for Inkigayo, one of her co-hosts doesn’t seem too pleased to be working with her. This unknown feeling sparks a drive to become the bestest of friends with him but from the looks of it, he’ll fight her the whole way there.

want recs for other groups? check out my navigation → here!

[binniebakery]

Closer

College AU!Taehyun x Gn!Reader (Strangers to ..) Suggestive! ♡ Summary: As a college student it was practically normal to go drink at parties if you were social enough. So when you kiss an attractive guy that you’ve never seen before, and he returns the favor, is that normal too? ♡ Warnings: Smoking, drinking, slight cursing. MDNI please! (also I’m not familiar with smoking so if I use terms wrong or misrepresent it I apologize!) not proofread because I'm lazy lol ♡ A/N: Totally wasn’t listening to ‘one of the girls’ while writing this !! don't ask me why I’ve been writing so much suggestive content lately I just don’t touch grass... mb guys 🧍‍♀️🧍‍♀️(I'm honestly on a roll rn) anywho enjoy this short thing!

Maybe you had too much to drink. Maybe. Hell, you could’ve even been cross-faded with the amount of joints being tossed around you, who knows? Your vision felt slightly hazy as a small smile sat on your lips, watching the blurbs of people dancing around to the music blasting in the tightly packed living room you were in. The frat parties at your uni were always a sight to see. You leaned against the wall of an empty corner, using said wall as leverage as your legs were feeling a little too much like jelly. Yeah, you were definitely crossed. Normally you were glued to your friend’s side but it seems tonight she’d run off with a random guy once again. You rolled your eyes at the thought. After a few minutes of deciding whether to call up your friend or a taxi to get back to your dorm, you find yourself staring at a male standing across the room. One hand holding a red solo cup, the other in his pocket as he swayed to the beat of the music. Although you were pretty familiar with everyone that went to these parties every weekend you’ve never seen that specific pair of large brown eyes before. You squinted your eyes in a weak attempt to get a better look but your vision was just too blurry, you were way too far gone. Normally you’d admire from afar but the mixed vodka in your system was encouraging you to go over to him. You bit your lip as you weighed your options, your eyes focusing a little too unnecessarily hard on the cup in your hand and swishing the alcohol inside around. Fuck it it’s not like you’ll ever see him again he probably doesn’t even go to your school. You pick yourself off the wall and slowly stride over to the brown-haired figure. You weren’t too sure how you were going to talk to him but the closer you got the more you found yourself wanting to just pull him in. He was possibly the most attractive guy you've ever seen. You take another sip of your drink, almost spilling it on yourself when someone suddenly bumps into you. “Oh shit!-- My bad I didn't see you there!” a random boy with a backward hat cackles as he pats your shoulder, passing through without a second thought. You simply smile awkwardly and nod as you watch him stride to the person you were just about to approach. You stood a few feet away, not wanting to interrupt their conversation and hoping this guy would leave so you could possibly make your move. He hands his friend the rolled-up blunt that was in his hand. “Here you go Taehyun. I’m heading out now– you comin’ or nah?” He tilts his head, a cheeky grin spread across his face.  Ah, so the guy you were trying to approach was named Taehyun. “Nah I’m gonna stay a little longer, I’ll see you later though man.” Taehyun fist-bumps the other male. You internally sigh in relief as you watch him walk away, your eyes looking back to Taehyun as he takes a long drag. You feel yourself shudder in anticipation. “Hey there.”

You freeze and realize Taehyun has caught you staring. Well, now you definitely have to talk to him.

“Hey.” Hey? Hey? Was that really all you could say? “Find something you like?” Taehyun cocks an eyebrow, eyes scanning the way your outfit shows just enough to leave the right amount to his imagination. You weren’t sure if your body was heating up from his intense gaze or the amount of alcohol that was in your system. “Is there an issue with that?” You sweetly respond. You were really throwing your cards onto the table, weren’t you? “Someone’s bold.” Taehyun chuckles as he takes a step closer to you. Eyelids heavy as he keeps sharp eye contact. Had you not been so far gone you would have crumbled under his gaze. “What's your name?” Taehyun leans in, talking loudly over the music. It was his attempt to hear you better but it was all it took for you to look up at him with a face fully flushed. He smirked at the sight knowing it wasn’t just the alcohol doing this to you. “Y/n, I see you smoke.” You aim your head towards the blunt in his hand and Taehyun swirls it between his fingers in front of his lips. “Taehyun, and yeah, you smoke?” You shook your head, you’ve had a few drags before but drinking was more your thing so you were pretty inexperienced. “Wanna try it?” He says as he slowly lifts the blunt to your lips. You shrug and before you can lean in he pulls it away and puts it right to his mouth. Taehyun inhales and blows the smoke in your face and chuckles. You pout at the sudden teasing. You really just want to wipe that cocky attitude right off his face. So you lean in and kiss him. Taehyun stands still in shock, hands hovering above your waist unsure of what to do. You pull away with a confident smile and the look on your face ignites something inside him. He stares at you tongue in cheek, oh you were bold. Taehyun suddenly grabs you by the waist and pulls you in with one swift move. You gasp and his lips are crashing back onto yours. He bites your lip harshly and you groan, the second your lips part open his tongue is exploring inside. You tasted like sweet alcohol and his breath was warm, absolutely reeking of weed. All you could do was let Taehyun ravage your lips as the buzz took over. Your body felt like it was in flames from the way his hands roamed your waist, with your arms wrapped around his neck pulling him impossibly closer. Closer. You wanted more than anything to just feel closer to him. You tug at his hair and Taehyun groans. “Gonna make me do something I might regret if you keep doin’ that” he mumbles against your lips and you take it as a challenge. You pull away and Taehyun looks absolutely fucked. Pupils deep and dilated as he stares at you with full intensity. Those eyes were so captivating and your breath hitches at how attractive he looks right now. “More..” You whispered, but the music blasting around drowned out your hoarse voice. Taehyun is able to read your lips regardless and the second he’s able to hand his blunt to the nearest person he’s grabbing you by the wrist to whisk you away. Both your cups left long forgotten as soon as you place them on the ground. Both of you soon find yourselves making out in the hallway as you weren’t even able to fully go up the stairs without your hands exploring Taehyun like he was artwork. It was driving him to the brink of insanity. Both your senses were heightened to the point that any slight touch caused either of you to shiver. The way Taehyun kissed you had your head in the clouds, he was far from gentle, nipping at your lips and harsh hands gripping your body. All you could do was let him. His mouth finds itself on your neck and you sigh softly as the both of you fumble into the nearest bedroom.

Taehyun pushes you against the door as soon as it closes behind you to cover your delicate skin in pretty purple markings. It was all becoming a blur, his heavy hands taking off your clothes, your tongue moving against his, the booming music fading the longer you were with him, skin and skin grazing, the room heating up further with the smell of weed and sweat. All you knew was that in the end, you and Taehyun were going to get a lot closer than you had intended.

[gyutarling]

CHASING THAT FUZZY FEELING

txt as my favourite shoegaze songs

♯ — txt x gn!reader ⋆ fluff ⋆ angst ⋆ blurbs

warnings! — cringe, cheesy, not proofread, lowercase intended, extremely corny

note — i'm not completely satisfied w soob's n tyun's T-T notes, reblogs, feedback always appreciated!

YEONJUN — lovely crawl by fleeting joys

"i’m looking for something that’s lost in the light"

yeonjun can be considered what some would call a hedonist. always looking for cheap thrills, things that numb and burn, that die out just as quickly as he does come morning time. everyone knows it, they pity him, and they pity you. you, who despite being aware of yeonjun’s ways, fell victim to his never-ending pursuit of pleasure. he’s here for a good time, you’re here for a long time. you thought you’d be content with the superficial affection he provides, but alas, you long for substance. constantly teetering on the edge of nothing and something, yeonjun only wants you at your best, and your best is when you’re igniting his flame of hedonism. it drowns you— the noise, the strobelights, the waiting. you’re always waiting for more, for something. but on fleeting occasions, when yeonjun’s not even conscious, passed out on the floor from the highs of self-indulgence from the night before, when it’s quiet. that’s when you can crawl up next to him, the physical closeness aids in the illusion of there being something more.

SOOBIN — bloom by glare

"your smile blooms one on me"

to say that soobin is the embodiment of a first love is like saying the sky is blue. but it’s not the exciting, puppy love type that people always say it is. falling for him is a slow descend, that budding feeling that grows, a kind of affection that’s been there all along, it just needed to sprout. soobin is a flower. a flower that opens up when the time is right, and when it is, he brings a soft hue of salvation to your bleak world. you may be fooled, because a beautiful flower can be admired by many, but you know that the blossoming emotions that soobin feels are true to only you. delicate but strong, he can withstand all the harsh conditions that the world rains down on him because you’re here, it’s a mutual assurance. it’s a love that’s gentle and nurturing, in the way that he makes you want to grow and become beautiful just like him. he supports you in every step of the way, with a smile, and it’s all you need, really.

BEOMGYU - mellow by whirr

"always between me and you"

beomgyu is aware of the ephemerality of life. he thinks there’s a certain beauty to it, honestly, how nothing lasts forever. that’s why he would consider himself a simple person, taking pleasure in the little things that make up the transience called happiness. but deep down, beomgyu is afraid. he has been loved before, and he has loved, too. he has loved too much, too intensely— but unfortunately, love is not an exception, regardless of how much beomgyu wished otherwise. so when you came into his life, beomgyu desperately hoped that nothing would take you away, that you’re not just a fleeting moment. no one gets him like you do, the way you just know. beomgyu thinks that you might just actually be his soulmate, because your connection transcends anything words can describe. he’s convinced that he must've been surrounded by cardboard cutouts his whole life, as no one but you has ever conveyed so much depth with their existence alone. monotony is beautiful with you— in fact, he would be content with just laying on the floor in your presence for eternity. so just this once, he wishes for you to be the exception.

TAEHYUN — angel by drop nineteens

"and i believe that dreams come true, cause you came when i wished for you"

“larger than life” is a phrase that would encompass taehyun’s existence perfectly. his genuine love for this cruel world impresses many, as if he knows of a transformative secret that is the key to living his life to the fullest. maybe it’s his vast curiosity, to want to know not only of the wonders of life, but also how he can get back up even after it knocks him down. taehyun believes that negativity is too draining, because of that, being with him is like a transformative experience in and of itself. he must be a higher being, an angel, 'cause even at your lowest, just one hint of a smile from him is enough for you to ascend to the clouds. that floating feeling never leaves you when you’re with him, it swallows you whole, and it makes you wonder how you could feel sad ever again. even when the clouds clear, when you two are at your most vulnerable, under the gaze of the stars, you’ll watch the skies in taehyun’s eyes instead, they shine brighter in there anyway.

HUENINGKAI — how fast can you love by pia fraus

"tomorrow, please love me"

kai has been patient his whole life. his passion drives him, he’s been walking a lonely road to achieve his dreams. he had always thought that he grew up too fast, no time for insignificant matters, kai’s world is a world in which he has to fight to survive. of course, that doesn’t mean that he’s completely immune to youthful desires, and kai wishes for nothing more than to turn back time so he could feel like a real person again, even just for a little while. and when you came into his life— a force to be reckoned with, you are, he thinks that letting himself indulge for once wouldn’t hurt. so he lets his passion consume him this time, and only then does he realise how lonely he has been all along. kai is tired of being patient, and it shows through his complete vulnerability when he’s with you. even though it’s hard, he’s so used to locking his emotions away in his heart-shaped box, you can tell he’s really trying. kai puts every ounce of himself in the potential of your love, because then he would finally have something to hope for, no matter how unsure he may be.