𝗀𝖺𝗋𝖽𝖾𝗇 𝗄𝗂𝗌𝗌𝖾𝗌

Gold digger pt 2

Yang Jeongin x reader; ft. Minho

A/n: decided to do a part two for this one :)

Masterlist part 1

Heyy I LOVE your work so much,

Do you think that you could do a fic where you’re dating Minho, Hyunjin, or Jeongin but the rest of skz think you’re annoying and a gold digger so there’s a huge argument and they break up with you but regret it really bad later? I know that’s a little specific so any good gut wrenching angst would be amazing!

Gold digger

Yang jeongin x reader, featuring felix

Warning: since anon asked for gut wrenching angst, this is all hurt no comfort; break up

Masterlist

𝐈𝐧 𝐘𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐄𝐲𝐞𝐬

☆ Genre: Idol!Chan, fluff, angst

☆ Warnings: Insecurities? Kinda

☆ Request: No

☆ Characters: Chan, Y/N

☆ Word Count: 2.9k

A/N: Thanks for the fic idea Christopher :p

Hands on her hip, Y/N surveyed the dimly lit room with slitted eyes.

“Did you check for bed bugs? I don't want them biting you again … that's my job.”

Chan burst into a fit of quiet giggles. “Yes baby, I checked. There aren't any.”

Y/N pursed her lips as she walked across the hotel room. Chan was perched on the end of the bed, leaning back on his hands, and his eyes were full of amusement as he watched Y/N fluff up the pillows again.

“Are you sure?” Y/N asked as she dusted her hands over the white sheets. “Did you double check?”

The fondness on Chan's face caused him to break into a large smile. He waited for Y/N to walk in front of him again before darting his arm out; the man circled his fingers around Y/N's wrist and the woman yelped in surprise as she was pulled into his body.

Chan grinned as he settled her onto his lap. He looked up at her with sparkling eyes. “I double checked. Stop worrying, baby.”

At that, Y/N smiled. She leaned down and connected her lips with his, the plush curve of Chan's mouth spreading into a smile of his own as he kissed her back; his arms tied themselves around Y/N's waist in a soft yet secure hug, and Y/N's smile deepened as she pulled away again. She peered down at Chan's face with joy before she clocked the unfamiliar air about him.

She frowned. “You didn't take your lenses out?”

Chan blinked. He chuckled and leaned towards Y/N, enlarging his eyes as he looked into her pupils like little mirrors. “Oh. Forgot.”

“Go take them out,” Y/N hummed as she trailed her fingers down the side of his face. “Aren't your eyes all dry and sore?”

Wrinkling his nose up at her in response, Chan turned his head to the side and kissed the inside of Y/N's palm. “Take them out for me?”

Y/N started to laugh. “Me?”

“Yeah,” Chan hummed.

“Why?”

Chan shrugged. “Ceebs taking them out myself.”

Snorting at his words, Y/N shook her head and leaned down to kiss his nose. “Are you sure? I'll poke your eyes out.”

“No you won't,” Chan chuckled. “If you don't want to, it's fine. I'll just … sleep in them.”

“Don't you dare,” Y/N huffed before sliding off of the man's lap. Chan grinned as she waved her finger at him. “You know how dangerous that is, right? You're more likely to get an eye infection because there's less oxygen getting to your corneas when you're sleeping, it increases your risk of going blind, and - “

“Okay, okay,” Chan laughed, though he looked slightly anxious now due to Y/N's words. “I get it.”

Y/N smiled. “Let me go wash my hands. I'll take them out for you … they're disposable, right?”

“Yeah,” Chan nodded. He frowned. “You're washing your hands? They're always clean.”

Y/N laughed from the sink. She turned the tap on and let the water run over her hands. “I just had my hands all over your face. And you're wearing makeup. I do not wanna get makeup in your eyes.”

Chan smiled as he leaned back on his hands again. His face crumpled as he stifled a yawn; now that he was out of Y/N's sight, Chan stopped ignoring the pain that lanced through his body like a fiery current. He groaned slightly, thumping the slope of his shoulders with his fists as though to reduce the tension in the muscle. It didn't work, and he flopped back onto the bed; he mentally kicked himself in annoyance. He really wished he hadn't overworked his body the way he had earlier on in the day.

“I can hear you groaning, you know,” Y/N said as she emerged from the joint bathroom. She glanced at the man on the bed with sympathy in her eyes as Chan sat back up again. A bashful expression graced his face and Y/N shook her head as she was pulled onto the man's lap one more time.

“That bad, huh?” Y/N asked him softly.

Chan sniffed. “Nothing I haven't experienced before.”

Y/N shook her head. “Look up, baby.”

Chan did as he was told, and leaning closer to the man, Y/N gently placed her fingertip on the rim of one of his lenses. She ever so slightly pulled it down to his waterline before nimbly pinching it out with her fingers.

“Here,” Y/N giggled as she set the lense in Chan's hand. “Look up again.”

She deftly pinched out the other lense and Chan grinned up at her as the rich brown of his eyes twinkled with their familiarity.

“There,” Y/N cupped Chan's face and kissed his forehead. “I hate those lenses.”

Chan's eyes widened. “You hate them? Why?”

“Because they hide your natural eye colour,” Y/N smoothed her hand over the front of Chan's hair, pushing it back with her loving touch. “You could go through every lense colour in the world and they'd still have nothing on your eyes.”

“That's not true … “ Chan breathed. “My eyes are boring. And they're too dark.”

Y/N furrowed her eyebrows. Her fingers tenderly caressed his cheekbones, the movement slowly rubbing away the thin layer of foundation on his skin. The faint smattering of freckles under his eyes peeked through and she smiled as she searched his eyes again.

“They're not boring,” Y/N tutted. “And what's wrong with dark eyes? I thought you liked dark stuff.”

“Yeah, but not when it comes to my eyes … “ Chan sighed. “Like … why couldn't I have been born with blue eyes? Blue eyes are so cool.”

“Christopher,” Y/N sighed. “Yeah, blue eyes are cool. But brown eyes are cool too. They shine more than other colours … the darker they are the more lights they reflect, you know? Your eyes are dark but the way they shine makes up for it. It always looks like you have little stars floating around your eyes … and you love the stars, don't you?”

Chan smiled slowly. “Well … yeah … “

“I love your eyes,” Y/N whispered as she slid her arms around Chan's shoulders. Her fingers found their way to the softer curls near the nape of his neck, and Chan leaned into her at the feeling. “Your eyes are beautiful. In the shadows they remind me of chocolate, and cinnamon, and coffee, and warmth, and space, and galaxies and nebulae … but when the lights hit them they glow like honey and like the leaves in autumn and fire and copper and … Chris I see so much in your eyes.”

Y/N leaned down and pressed her lips to the bridge of Chan's nose, her eyelashes fluttering against his brow as his hands tightened their hold on her waist. “You don't have to change things about yourself to be like other people that you find attractive, baby. You've always been beautiful in your own way … you just can't see it yet.”

Chan shut his eyes for a moment. He could feel the backs of his eyes sting; whether from his prolonged contact lense usage, or from tears, he wasn't entirely sure yet.

“Besides,” Y/N continued. “You know how they always say the grass is greener on the other side. I have a feeling if you did somehow acquire these features you like, you'd still want something else.”

“Why do you always … “ Chan's voice quivered as his words trailed off, and his shoulders sagged as he dropped his head against Y/N's shoulder. “Everything you say just … hits me right in here.”

His fingers were pointing ever so slightly to the left of his chest, and Y/N smiled.

“Probably because deep down you know I'm right,” Y/N whispered.

Chan smiled against her shoulder. “Maybe.”

He inhaled then and sat back up as he looked into Y/N's eyes. “I've always felt so uncomfortable when people compliment me because I always feel like it's all lies … but for some reason everytime you say something to me I just … I almost feel like it might be true.”

He laughed then suddenly, his cheek dimpling. “So … you really don't like my lenses?”

“I hate them,” Y/N breathed, and Chan burst into quiet laughter as he leaned his forehead against hers. “I really, really hate them. Maybe as much as I hate it when you think you can hide your pain from me.”

Chan clicked his tongue in defeat. “I can't hide anything from you, huh?”

“Nope,” Y/N grinned. She smoothed her hands down the man's shoulders, slipping her fingers under the top of his tank top and pressing against the hard fibres of his muscle. “You forget how much I know you, Christopher.”

Y/N stood up again, taking the discarded lenses and tossing them into the bin before rifling around her bag for a bottle of drops. She pulled the cap off and walked over to Chan again, standing in-between his legs as he looked up at her with his fond expression.

“Look up again baby,” Y/N said. She braced one of her fingers under Chan's eye before gently squeezing the hydrating drops into each eye; the man groaned as he clenched his eyes shut before aggressively blinking them together.

He then flopped back onto the bed with a relieved sigh. A mischievous chuckle escaped his lips as reached out and pulled Y/N down on top of him. Y/N giggled as his hands came up around her body, a soft smile on his face as he hugged her close.

“I can sleep now … “ Chan hummed, kissing the top of her head.

Y/N peered up at him. “No you can't.”

“I can't?” Chan's eyes widened. “Why?”

“Because,” Y/N scrambled up to her hands, her hair swinging around her like a curtain as she looked down at the sleepy man. “You haven't removed your makeup yet.”

Chan groaned loudly. He flailed his limbs around the sheets like an agitated beetle before letting out a ground shaking sigh.

“I don't care,” Chan mumbled.

Y/N slid off the bed and headed towards the bathroom again. “Yeah, well I do.”

When she returned she was rubbing her hands together, her fingers glistening with cleansing oil. She crawled onto the bed again and hovered above Chan with a smile.

“Close your eyes. I'll do it for you,” Y/N hummed.

With a tired smile, Chan shut his eyes and curled his arms around Y/N again; she set herself on his thighs and bent down a little, her fingers warm when she placed them on Chan's face.

With a light touch, Y/N started to massage the oil into Chan's skin. She used circular motions to disolve the remnants of his makeup. Chan couldn't keep the smile off of his face as she swept her fingertips around the angles of his jaw, the curves of his lips; she was extra careful around the skin of his eyes, her touch like butterfly wings on his eyelids.

“You know … “ Chan drawled in a drowsy tone when Y/N slid her thumbs over his eyebrows. “You really are more than I deserve.”

“Don't say that,” Y/N hummed. “You underestimate yourself way too much, Mr Bahng. Now … come on. I can't wash your face for you.”

Chan groaned again. “Can't you just take my face off and rinse it under the sink? Might wash some of the ugly off too,” Chan chuckled at his last statement and Y/N elbowed him indignantly in his side.

“Ow,” Chan laughed. He held his hand out and Y/N slipped her hand into his, pulling him up to his feat. The man stumbled as his strained body protested, and Y/N immediately slid her arms around his torso with wide eyes.

“Why did you have to go so hard for?” Y/N tutted as they made their way to the bathroom together. “How many times have I told you to look after yourself properly? It's one thing having fun, but it’s a whole other thing when you push yourself too much. You're just hurting yourself at this point baby.”

Chan sighed as he twisted the tap open. “I can't help it. It just … if I can give it my everything and lose myself in the moment, I can forget about all my stress and worries for a bit. I don't realise how stupid I'm being until later.”

Y/N patted the man's upper back with a soft hand as he leaned over the sink, splashing water over his face. She winced; even the entirety of his back seemed overly taut like a plank of wood. Sighing sadly, Y/N rubbed circles over the span over his back before he stood up again, reaching for a face towel.

“The ugly didn't wash off,” Chan commented nonchalantly as he peered into the mirror.

“Christopher,” Y/N groaned. She looked into Chan's eyes through the mirror; now that his makeup had gone, the downturn slope of his eyes were more visible, redness across his nose and cheeks giving him an endearing natural blush. His brows were soft looking and incredibly adorable under the damp curls of his hair. The texture of his skin made Y/N's heart swell with warmth, and pulling Chan into her by his hand, she wrapped her arms around his torso and hugged him tightly.

“You're very, very handsome,” Y/N hummed against his neck. “The ugly didn't wash off because there isn't any ugly to wash off in the first place. Stop being so silly.”

Chan huffed as he hugged the woman back. “But I wanna look different.”

“I don't,” Y/N rolled her eyes as she pulled away. She clamped her hands over the sides of his face and playfully squished his cheeks around, making Chan break into a large smile. “This is my favourite face in the whole entire world. If you changed it I'd be very, very sad.”

Scrunching his face up at that, Chan placed his hands ontop of Y/N's. “Well, I don't want want my baby to be sad.”

Giggling, Y/N dropped a kiss onto his lips. “I don't want my baby to hate himself.”

“I don't hate myself … not anymore,” Chan exhaled slowly. “I just … get really … “

“Insecure?” Y/N prompted.

“Yeah,” Chan smiled. “I'm trying. I promise I'm trying.”

“I know you are,” Y/N kissed his fingers. “I'm always gonna be here to reassure you and tell you how beautiful you are when you get like this. You know that right?”

In response, Chan grinned widely like a child. He chuckled and pulled Y/N by the hand into their room again where the bed was beginning to look increasingly inviting.

“Wait,” Y/N said suddenly. She quickly gripped onto the hem of Chan's shirt and yanked it over his head before discarding his trousers; then she quickly dashed to get her moisturiser, scooping a fat wad of it before slathering it onto the surprised man's face.

“There,” Y/N giggled. “Ooh … you're glowing.”

Chan started to laugh at her words. “Are you satisfied yet?”

“I am,” Y/N nodded once she finished moisturising Chan's face. “You may now get into bed.”

“Finally,” Chan dived into the bedsheets; his giggling was muffled against the fabric as he rolled around in contentment, and Y/N was about to move around to the other side of the bed when Chan yanked her down ontop of him for the third time that night.

“Chris … “ Y/N burst into laughter when Chan heaved the quilt out from beneath them both and dumped it ontop of them; the sheets were cold and crisp and Y/N and Y/N shivered extraordinarily as their knees knocked against each other in their eagerness to be closer to one another.

Once they had finally settled down amongst the sheets, Chan scooped Y/N into his arms as best as he could; his nose brushed against hers while Y/N softly patted his shoulders, their faces hidden by the shadows but their smiles clear as day as they looked into each others eyes. Their breath mingled in heated clouds in the minute space between then both, Chan's heartbeat drumming against Y/N's as it slowed to match her pace.

“Thank you,” Chan mumbled. His lips grazed Y/N's lips so lightly that it tickled, and it made Y/N shiver as what felt like a bolt of electricity sizzled through her body. “For being here with me. And for being mine. And … for always loving me even if I don't deserve it.”

Y/N felt her eyes water. “Of course you deserve it. You deserve to be loved the way you love everyone else. You deserve to be happy, baby.”

His eyes falling shut at her words, Chan moved his face half an inch closer. Their foreheads bumped and he smiled against Y/N's mouth as he removed an arm from around her and reached for her hand instead.

“I love you so much,” Chan hummed, closing his fingers around hers. “I really, really love you.”

“I love you,” Y/N replied in a soft voice. She pressed kissed to his nose, to his cheeks, to his closed eyes, and then to his lips. His mouth was curved up into the most tender smiles, his cheeks incredibly hot against Y/N when he finally fell asleep, his body curved into the shape of Y/N's as it sought the comfort and safety from the solace that she provided.

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Bathroom Breakdown | Bang Chan x Reader

pairing: bang chan x fem!reader

tags: insecurity, comfort, fluff, chan is so sweet y'all, minor explicit language

requested? nope, this was all me baybee!

wc: 1,450

If you had to say, getting in your own head was probably your strongest skill. You do it a lot, more than most people, but the funniest thing is, you don’t even realise you’re doing it half of the time. The thoughts in your head are so common that you truly believe them now, they’re just facts!

The recent topic of discussion inside your brain has been your love life. Specifically, your wonderful boyfriend, Chan. He really is wonderful, he’s kind, generous, funny, smart, and handsome as hell. You consider yourself lucky to be his girlfriend for the past six months. Insecurity has been slowly eating you recently, gnawing at you in the back of your head. You know everything that it’s saying is wrong, and that he loves you, and he’s lucky to have you too, but there’s just something convincing you he’s lying, that one day he is going to turn around and decide to leave.

Sniffling, you fold up a wad of toilet paper and bring it to your face, wiping your eyes one last time. You throw it into the toilet from your place on the cold tile floor and grab onto the edge of the sink to help hoist yourself up. You see your reflection in the mirror and let out a long, shaky breath. You were seemingly done crying, using the last 45 minutes as a good release, and your legs wobbled as you stood. 

You turned on the tap, feeling the cool water on your fingers. Gathering some water in your hands, you bring the coolness up to your face, gently pressing your face, and massaging around your eyes, attempting to wrangle the puffiness of your post-sob face. The cold water was refreshing and helped to bring you back to reality.

A few minutes later you were ready to face the world again, the world inside your apartment at least. Unlocking the bathroom door, you take one final deep breath. You swing the door open and nearly scream. There, leaning against the wall opposite, is Chan. 

“Jesus Christ.” You clutch your chest.

“Sorry, I did text you but,” he trails off. Oh, right. You didn’t have your phone on you, you had left it in the living room.

“Oh, sorry, yeah, it’s in the other room. How long have you been here?” You ask. He must have let himself in with the spare key you had given him.

“Uh, not long, maybe 15 minutes?” He stands up, awkwardly. You think he’s lying to save you the embarrassment.

“Oh,” you say, neither of you really knowing where to go with this.

“I didn’t know you were coming.”

“Are you okay?”

You speak at the same time. Your eyes widen at his question, and you think for a second that you look like a deer in headlights.

“Ah, yeah, I got a free evening so thought I’d come over,” he explains. “But maybe I should’ve waited for a response.”

“No it’s okay, I was just, thinking too much.” You don’t know what to say. He opens his arms and you fall into them, wrapping around you gently.

“Do you wanna talk about it?” He speaks softly into your hair.

“I think I’d cry again.”

“That’s okay, you’re allowed to cry.”

You take a deep breath hearing his words and you feel everything coming back.

“Hey, let’s get you somewhere comfy first, sofa or bed?” 

“Bed,” you mumble into his chest. He’s wearing a soft, black hoodie that smells just like him, the scent of his cologne faintly clinging to the material. With ease, he guides you to your bedroom, and you get into the safety of your covers. He excuses himself for a second, and leaves the room, returning a few minutes later with a few things. Your phone is one of them, your heart crying a little as you read his texts from earlier on the lock screen. He climbs into bed next to you and gets comfy. You keep him at a distance, thinking it would be better to put space between yourself. He insists on at least holding your hand.

“Okay, tell me everything.”

“I’m just feeling insecure. It’s stupid, but I can’t stop thinking about it. I feel like I don’t deserve any of this.” You begin to put it into words.

“This?” he asks, gently.

“You, Chan. I don’t deserve you, and I know I do, I know you’ll say I do, but my brain is so good at convincing me, and I don’t know how to get her to shut up. Like, I look in the mirror and I don’t understand why you love me, like look at you, you’re perfect, I’m not.” You see his eyebrows furrow but you don’t give him a chance to say anything.

“I just feel so fundamentally unlovable, which is stupid, but there’s just something in my head. And I’m so scared, I’m scared that I let you in fully, and get so comfortable with you, and one day you decide I’m too much, or not enough, or too weird, or too something, and you leave me for some stupid or shallow reason that I was a fool to think wouldn’t happen.” The tears are flowing now, not as hard as before but you wipe at them. You’re no longer looking at Chan, but down at your hands where your fingers are pulling threads from the bed sheets. 

“So I guess my head has just decided that you’re better off without me, and I want  to disagree so badly, but she’s so fucking convincing, Chan, I’m sorry.” You wipe at your tears roughly, but Chan quickly replaces your hands with his own, taking your face in his hands gently. His thumbs are wiping at the tears still slowly falling.

“Hey, it’s okay. Just breathe.” You do as he says, and your tears begin to slow down even more. 

“Can I say something?” Chan says after a minute. You nod, preparing for the worst.

“I’m not going anywhere.”

Your eyes look up and meet his, a look of sincerity in his own glassy eyes.

“I could never leave you, not as easy as you seem to think. No part of you could be too much or too little, or too anything for me. I love you. I love all of you. I love the parts of you I’ve seen, and I can’t wait to see the parts I haven’t seen yet so that I can love them too. I know this isn’t easy, I feel the same things sometimes, but you just have to believe me, and if you ever doubt me, I will fight you.” He ends with a chuckle. 

“Okay?” He runs his fingers through your hair gently. You nod, smiling.

“Also, who are you to decide who I love, hm?” he asks.

“An idiot,” you mumble, making him chuckle.

“I decide who I love, got it? I am choosing to love you.”

You nod your head, utterly defeated, and fall into his chest. He catches you swiftly, rubbing your back with one hand and petting your hair with the other. After a few minutes, you pop your head up to look at him. He looks at you questioningly.

“Be honest, how long were you here before I came out of the bathroom?”

“Oh, I, uh, think I heard most of it,” he says sheepishly. You groan, burying your face into his chest once more. You feel him laugh more than you hear it. 

“Thank you,” you say.

“For what?”

“I don’t know…” you trail off. “Loving me? Letting me cry? Being here? Something like that.” You play with one of his hoodie strings, avoiding his intense stare.

“Something like that,” he repeats quietly, half chuckling at your words. “Of course, I'd do all those things, I love you.”

“I love you too,” you say, finally looking up at him. He’s smiling at you, eyes soft. You lean up and press a kiss to his soft lips. He accepts it, indulging you for a few seconds until he pulls back. You’re about to pout but he catches you off guard by planting kiss after kiss on your face. Your cheeks, nose, forehead, and finally your mouth once more. You’re giggling by the time he’s done, and he pulls back, eyes sparkling. 

“Feeling any better?” he asks.

“No, I think I need one more.” You giggle up at him. He rolls his eyes but leans down, capturing your lips in a soft kiss that the both of you are smiling into. The kiss feels right, and for the first time in a little while, the voice in the back of your head is quiet.

taglist (lmk if u wanna be added!): @lethallyprotected

Missing You - Bang Chan

Purely a work of Fiction.

Word Count: 2,100

Pairings: Bang Chan x Reader

Warnings: Miscarriage mention, angsty

All dialogue is in Korean unless otherwise specified.

A/N: Recently got into Stray Kids and needed to write some Channie, there isn't nearly enough. Also, Part 2?

********

Your POV

Screaming filled your ears as you watched the boys enter the stage. Your eyes immediately searching for your ex-love. He still held your heart even though he was completely unaware. The breakup was messy. You couldn’t stand all the hate you were getting just because he chose to love you. He didn’t want that and said stuff to fans but nothing seemed to stop the damage to your mental health. It became so bad that you decided the best course of action was to leave. That was the last thing Chan or any of the guys wanted. They all loved you and loved having you around. Not only were you the love of Chan’s life, you were the boy's best friend. You became part of their small family and had a place in each of their hearts. While you weren’t able to keep in touch with Chan as it was too painful, you managed to keep in contact with a few of the guys. That’s how you were here. Hannie had texted you as soon as he found out they were performing near home. He got you VIP tickets and everything. You told him that you weren’t sure you’d be able to show up. Never fully committing until about 4 hours ago. So here you stood. All dressed up waiting to see your family. It’d been almost 3 years since you broke up with Chan, and you finally followed each other on socials again, thanks to the guys.

As the concert ended a guard came out of the back and nodded to you. Making sure you weren’t spotted had become a secret skill you developed over the years. You made your way over to him and showed him your badge to identify yourself. He slowly led you around the darkness backstage. You heard them before you saw them. All just standing around. Hannie kept looking around hopeful, he was the first to spot you. “Y/N!” Before you knew it he was running at you and lifting you off the ground in a hug. You giggled as you hugged him tightly back, “ Hi Hannie.” Before your feet touched the ground the others were surrounding you, each calling that they were next to hug you.

After hugging all of them, only one remained. He hadn’t joined the group in running over to you. Not what you had hoped. They were all talking so fast you were having issues understanding everything. Then the voice you missed so much cut through the air, “ We should get back home guys.” He wasn’t even going to attempt to say hi? Your heart plummeted. Maybe you really had lost him. Thinking that you lost him completely devastated you, before you dated he was your best friend and he was the person you thought you were going to marry. They all nodded in agreement. You nodded your head, “ Then I better get going-” You were cut off, “ No, you’re coming to hang out. We missed you too much.” Surprised you nodded, “ Alright. Just like old times. I’ll drive and park a few streets away?” Hannie smiled at you as he nodded.

Pulling into an all too familiar parking area you put your car in park and turned it off. You let out a shaky breath not sure if your heart could handle it. Shaking out of the funk you got out and started walking. Luckily their apartments were super close to each other, same floor and everything. All of a sudden standing at their doors you weren’t sure whose to knock on. You used to be able to just use your key and go into 3RACHA’S apartment. You gave the key back when you and Chan broke up. Luckily you didn’t have to make a decision. The door to 3RACHA’s apartment opened and Changbin peaked his head out, “ She’s here!” He hollered back into the apartment before reaching for your wrist and pulling you inside.

Inside the apartment all the guys sat around in the living room, relaxing onto any furniture or the floor. It brought back so many fond memories. You noticed that one was missing and a look crossed your face. The look was noticed immediately by Hyunjin, “ He’s in his room. We hadn’t told him you were going to be there.” That made you groan, “ Guys!” Seungmin put his hands up in surrender, “ Hey, don’t blame us. He told us not to talk to him about you.” Your shoulders fell as your purse hit the couch and you crossed the room to sit on the floor in front of the couch, “ What?” They all nodded, “What do you mean?”

“ He told us you were a forbidden topic if he was around.” This news made your stomach sink. So he had no idea what you were up to these days. That broke your made up world inside your head, you had always thought that he kept tabs on you like you did him, but no. He couldn’t even stand the topic of you. “You okay Noona?” Your gaze flicked over to I.N. “Yeah, fine.” You smiled at the young Maknae across from you. A hand rested on your shoulder and squeezed. You covered the hand with your own smiling back at Felix behind you on the couch.

You spent the next few hours catching up with the guys, playing games and watching movies. One by one they said their goodbyes and headed to their own rooms within the two apartments. Finally it was just you and Hannie left in the living room. “Shit, it’s like 1 am.” Hannie said all of a sudden. “Crap. I’ll head out.” He shook his head, “ No, stay here. Like old times?” You smiled at him, “ I think I’m too tired to drive anyway.” He smiled and got up and left the room. He came back with 2 pillows and 3 blankets, remembering how you like to sleep. “Thank you Hannie.” He reached down and patted your head, “ Goodnight Y/n.” You got all the pillows situated in the way you liked and quickly fell asleep sprawled out on the living room floor.

You bolted upright, chest heaving, having a hard time catching your breath. You heard fast footsteps and almost immediately a light turned on and someone was staring at you. As your eyes adjusted you realized it was Channie, staring at you in just his boxers. “I’m sorry. Didn’t mean to wake you.” He ran a hand through his hair, “ You still have nightmares?” Letting out the inhale to a deep breath, “ Yeah. They never really went away.” He moved a bit closer, “ They were gone for almost a year.” You nodded, not trusting your voice. “They started again after you left?” A tear falling down your cheek. “ Yeah, uh, the memories of a miscarriage never really go away Channie” The nickname left your mouth without even thinking. He nodded the memories of the aftermath flooding his brain. You hadn’t even known you were pregnant. Then the cramps got really bad, so bad that he rushed you to the ER thinking that maybe your appendix burst or something. They did a lot, but confirmed all the symptoms were because you were having a miscarriage. That was what broke you the most. The news that you miscarried was leaked and everyone was blaming you. It broke you so much you had to leave. You had to let go of the love of your life. “Y/n?”

Hearing your name in his voice brought you back, except this time he was right in front of you holding your hand and talking, “ Breathe. In. Out.” It took you a minute to recognize that you were having a panic attack. They happen a lot these days. Seeing him in front of you made you snap back into reality. You pulled your hand from his and brought your knees to your chest. A defeated look crossed his face. He shook his head, like he was shaking away a thought. Without a word he stood up and walked back to his room, leaving the light on for you.

Chan’s POV

He was sleeping soundly when he heard such a familiar sound that brought him right out of it. He didn’t even think when he got up and ran out to find the noise. That's when he turned on the light and saw you bolt up from the floor. He heard her apologize in that angelic voice of hers. Surprised at the sound of his own voice he asked about her nightmares. They were nonexistent during their last year together. That's when he heard the word. The word that was the cause of everything he loved being taken from him, “The memories of a miscarriage never really go away Channie.” Hearing that name from her lips felt like heaven to him and he hated it. He remembered everything about that day and the weeks that followed were swallowed up with grief over something they never even got to celebrate. By the time he snapped out of the memories he could tell you were having a panic attack. Without thinking he rushed over and grabbed your hand in his. Your soft hands felt so nice against his, oh how he missed you so much. “Breath. In Out.” He found himself instructing you to breathe, must be muscle memory he thought to himself. You seemed to finally snap out of it. You pulled your hand from his and proceeded to make yourself as small as possible, but so far away from him. It felt like his heart broke all over again as you pulled away from him. He felt like he was going to cry so he stood up and walked to his room without another word.

Your POV

You never fell back to sleep after that. You stayed sitting there thinking and thinking. As daylight creeped in through the curtains you heard a familiar door squeak. A small smile graced your lips knowing they never bothered to fix Hannie’s door. “You’re up?” He said as he walked into the kitchen. You didn’t respond, only nodded. A few minutes went by before he was in front of you handing you a steaming mug of coffee. He lowered himself to sit on the floor next to you. “I had a nightmare.” You started without looking up from your mug. You could feel his eyes on you, prompting you to go on. “He came running to me.” This time you looked over to your best friend to see a look of utter surprise on his face. Hannie couldn’t tell you, but sometimes Chan would be calling for you in his sleep. Especially while on tour. But he felt like it wasn’t his place to tell you this. Shifting to face him, “I never told you what made us break up for good did I?” Hannie shook his head. Sure, the rumor of the miscarriage was heard but he knew if you were pregnant, you would have told him. He watched as you set your mug on the side table.

“I had a miscarriage.” The shock that he felt was indescribable.

“What?”

You pulled your knees to your chest before continuing. “I had a miscarriage, Hannie. We didn’t even know I was pregnant at the time. It got out and the fans, they were ruthless. I couldn’t take it and neither could he. I couldn’t stand to see how upset he was all the time. So, I thought the best thing to do was leave.” His heart broke for both of his best friends.

“Why on earth would you think that?!”

“SHH. Hannie.”

“No, why? It’s not like you stopped loving him, right?” The look in his eyes he was hurt, not only for you but for Chan and how heartbroken he was after you left.

Taking a deep breath you closed your eyes, "Sometimes it's not that you stop loving them, but you know they deserve better so you let them go. Although it was for the best it still doesn't stop the ache in your chest. I miss him Hannie, so fucking much. And seeing him again brought it all back. I don’t think I can do this.”

You didn't know it but someone else was awake and lingering in the hallway listening to your confession to Hannie. Chan held his breath. He missed you too. So much that he didn’t know what to do with himself. Knowing you still loved him gave him the motivation he needed. He knew he needed to get you back, somehow.

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our lost love - h.hj

genre: angst, break-up

tw: lots and lots and lots of angst, kinda sad ending:<

synopsis: "this is the end, isn't it?" you asked, the both of you tangled up in bed with your fingers interlocked. a bittersweet smile rested on your lips, yet your eyes were brimming with tears and unspoken grievances. "i'm sorry."

author's note: this was so sad but i got randomly inspired out of nowhere lol>< reblogs and likes r appreciated!

you could feel hyunjin slipping away from you, through the cracks of your fingers. and you tried, you really did. grasping and trying to hold on desperately to his hands as he slipped out of your grasp. out of your world. he would never acknowledge it, of course. he would never want to hurt you. he loved you, but wasn't in love with you. but you, ever the observer, could see the way his eyes gazed upon you with fondness but had lost their sparkle reserved for only you in the past. you could sense him closing up, dropping a quick peck on your forehead when he came home with a 'hi baby.' but it was never like the affectionate, loving kiss he always gave you in the past, taking his time to talk about his day and cuddle with you, never the deep conversations you two would have until 2am in the morning. you used to envision a future with him, a quiet family with one or two kids and a happy life, but deep down you knew that dream would probably never come to fruition. and it hurt. so, so, bad. countless hours spent sniffling into the pillow as you grieved for the inevitable loss of your love, your muse for the past 3 years. but for now, you would cling onto the last moments as if they were your lifeline, and wait until that fateful day when your nightmare would morph with reality.

hwang hyunjin knew he was falling out of love. he loved you, as a companion. the kind of person he would want to grow old with, the kind that would stick by his side through the years. but his spark, his passion for you had died down, from a once burning fire to a flickering flame in the candlelight, a familiar and comforting warmth yet not warm enough to heat the room. he tried so hard to fall in love with you again. memorised your every detail, tried to take you out on dates. but each time, he never felt that passion reignite. he would always love you as a friend, a companion and partner. you brought a certain warmth into his life. but hyunjin was a fiery person. if you were water, he was fire. he couldn't live without passion, without the burning heat that threatened to consume him. hyunjin felt so, so guilty, each time he came back late to see you asleep on the couch after waiting for him, each time you gazed at him with so much love and adoration that he knew he couldn't give back. hyunjin knew he had fallen out of love, yet couldn't bring himself to break your heart and break the perfect life he had been living with you for the past three years. so he would wait until the day when he knew the time was right and inevitably have to leave, leaving in his wake behind two broken hearts.

"this is the end, isn't it?" you asked, the both of you tangled up in bed with your fingers interlocked. a bittersweet smile rested on your lips, yet your eyes were brimming with tears and unspoken grievances.

"im sorry." hyunjin could only muster those two words, his heart breaking when he finally saw you close your eyes with a sigh, a lone tear trickling down your face.

"i know, just... hold me one last time." you breathed, fingers grazing his cheek and your eyes searched the eyes of the man you had once loved. no, you still loved him.

a part of you always would, no matter who you were with in the future. one day, you would look back on all of this with a smile and thank him for the memories, the moments that made you who you were. one day, your heart would expand to fit for another that you loved, the love for hyunjin remaining in a small corner of your mind. you would leave a piece of the old you in his heart, and he would leave a piece of him in you, but as time would pass and so would you grow into a new person, the old you simply just a stepping stone into the new chapter of your life. the memories made with hyunjin would always be moments to look back upon fondly, smiling wistfully for the happiness you experienced with him. you would always love hwang hyunjin, you supposed. a person never forgets the people they had loved. if someone were to ask you if you had regretted those three years, you would reply without hesitation a definite 'no'.

"thank you for letting me love and live."

It would’ve been sweet if it could’ve been me

♡ Pairing: Bang Chan × fem!reader

♡ Genre: Single dad!Chan, friends to strangers to lovers

♡ CW: Explicit sexual content (minors dni!), mentions of parental guilt, themes of loneliness, Chan is stuck in the past, lying, mentions of feeling lost in life, story spans over a number of years, nipple play, oral sex (male receiving), unprotected sex, creampie

♡ Word count: 8.2k

♡ Synopsis: Being a single dad to Hyerin is all Chan has known for the past four years. He and his ex-girlfriend reached an agreement that saw her going off to live a life she had always dreamed of while he was left with a life of loneliness, which he endured with a smile on his face for his daughter. A small gleam of hope seems to appear in his life in the shape of you. But hiding himself under a haze of lies seems to be his only option if he ever wants to keep you.

♡ A/N: Based off a request by anon! Thank you for requesting, this was so much fun to write 🩷 I will admit this is a lot more focused on Chan as a character than I originally wanted it to be, and I kinda went a bit crazy with the plot, but I hope you still like it! The song Chan sings to Hyerin is Little Star by Standing Egg 💗

Every day in Chan’s life is a monotonous, never-ending cycle. Like watching reruns of bad TV shows on gloomy Sunday nights, every second of his past and upcoming days is etched into his mind like a quilt of mundane tasks and repetitive moments.

But that wasn’t always the case.

Once, excitement filled his every waking moment. His weekends were a whirlwind of new places teeming with bustling crowds and unfamiliar faces who became fast friends. During his university years, he and his friends lived their lives with ardor, savoring every moment as if it could be their last. His days were filled with an array of unplanned parties and impromptu trips which brought a kaleidoscope of color to his life.

Until he met Dana.

He was about to graduate, and she swept into his life like a hurricane — flipping everything upside down before disappearing just as quickly, with only destruction and ashes remaining in her wake.

He was infatuated; she was bored. That was clear from the start, but Chan was too blinded by affection to be concerned with such a minute detail. So long as he got to have her by his side, he was happy. Their relationship lasted a year, yet it changed his life forever.

He was twenty-one when Dana announced her pregnancy. On his twenty-second birthday, she told him she didn’t want to be a mother.

By that point in his life, Chan had already forsaken everything he had for her. He turned his back on his old friends, the vibrant life he once led, and everything that once made him who he was. Without Dana, he would be left with nothing but the ugly reflection of his self-destructive choices made in the name of a loveless love.

And so, they came to an agreement. Dana would leave — that had been her plan from the start, anyway — but she would leave Chan with a small piece of their story.

Hyerin was born on November 20th, 2019.

Dana left on a plane to New York City on December 1st.

Now, the only speck of color in his life is Hyerin. In the four years Chan has been lucky enough to be her dad, he has found she is much more than simply a reminder of Dana or what could have been between them. Hyerin is his entire world. She is the love he’s unknowingly been searching for his whole life, and he would sacrifice every last bit of himself to make sure she only ever knows happiness.

They live a quiet life, with Chan working a less-than-fulfilling corporate job and spending all his free time with her. He sometimes allows himself to wonder what happened to his old friends — did they all eventually settle for the mundanity of adult life, or are they still chasing an endless thrill? But he never dwells on it too much. The sweet memories of his early twenties are now nothing more than a comforting escape when the weight of loneliness becomes too overwhelming.

Today is one of those days. A late Friday night after his shift, Chan sprawled on his couch with Jisung, a co-worker who became his first friend after many years, a silly smile on his face as he reminisced about a trip to Jeju in his sophomore year of college. This is how he lives most of his life; when he’s not in the present with Hyerin, he’s stuck in the past.

How could he not be stuck in the past? So many people he loved and memories he cherished were there.

“I don’t get how you just left all of that behind for someone,” Jisung scoffs, loosening his tie. “Why couldn’t she just join your group of friends?”

“It’s complicated,” Chan sighs, eyes wandering toward Hyerin’s bedroom door for the umpteenth time to make sure she’s still sleeping soundly. When he turns to look back at Jisung, his expression prompts him to elaborate. “What? You want the whole story?”

Jisung shrugs. “It’s not like we have any other plans for tonight.”

“Well, there was this girl in my friend group. We hooked up a lot, but our relationship went beyond that,” Chan explains, fingers tapping his thighs as the memories flood his mind. It was a sore topic, one he certainly didn’t enjoy remembering. “We never dated, but Dana was jealous, and I couldn’t blame her. Me and this girl were… very close. I couldn’t be in a relationship while also being that close to her, but I also couldn’t imagine us being only friends. So it was easier to walk away.”

Chan conveniently leaves out the fact that he walked away because an artificial love strangely provided solace for his heart, unlike the searing torment of unrequited love, which engulfed him like molten lava.

“And that was the last time you ever had that type of relationship with anyone?”

“With Dana? Yeah—”

“Hyung, you know what I mean. You told me yourself Dana didn’t love you,” Jisung points out. “I mean this other girl.”

Chan shrugs dismissively. “I guess, yeah. Doesn’t matter, though.”

And Jisung scoffs loudly at his words, rubbing his forehead with a sigh. Memories of that love flood Chan’s mind, and he's ready to let them sweep him away when Jisung abruptly turns so he sits facing him, resolve swimming in his eyes.

“Give me your phone,” his loud voice reverberates through the small apartment, prompting Chan to shush him with a stern look. “Give me your phone,” Jisung repeats himself with a harsh whisper.

Chan rolls his eyes but ultimately smiles at his friend. He retrieves his phone from the end table, handing it to a much too enthusiastic Jisung. “The password is Hyerin’s birthday,” he tells him, albeit a bit apprehensive.

He watches amusedly as Jisung types away at his own phone before doing the same on his, handing him the device with a grin tugging at the corner of his lips.

“What did you do, you little menace?” Chan questions the younger boy, narrowing his eyes. Jisung simply shrugs.

“I got you a date tomorrow. Thank me later.”

Chan immediately sits up on the couch, eyes darting toward his phone screen. A chat with a single message from him to an unknown contact makes him question his entire friendship with Jisung.

Me: I’m your date for tomorrow 😉

Me: O’neul restaurant, 6 pm. See you there, cutie

“Jisung, what the fuck?”

“What?” His friend asks between giggles. “Sora has this friend she said desperately needs a date, and I have you in the same situation,” he explains, clearly proud of himself. “I just did you both a favor while also getting boyfriend points.”

Chan’s eyes shift toward his phone once more, inwardly cringing at the messages with a heavy sigh.

“And was making me sound this creepy necessary?”

Jisung waves his hand dismissively. “Nah, that was just a little treat for me.”

“And why the fuck is her name Mystery Girl?” Chan queries, the irritation making him unknowingly raise his voice.

“It’s a blind date,” his friend explains. “This girl’s apparently super picky, kept turning down every guy Sora suggested. So, she came up with this solution. Can’t turn you down if she doesn’t know what you look like.”

Chan groans, ultimately sinking back onto the couch with a defeated sigh. Jisung was trying to be a good friend, he knew that, but he wasn’t at all thrilled with the prospect of a date. Not only did he not want one, but he also had no time for such a futile thing. He had Hyerin, and she was the sole reason for his existence. He didn’t need anyone meddling in their little world. But he didn’t have the courage to tell Jisung that.

It would be a lie to say the past four years weren’t lonesome. Falling asleep alone in a cold, empty bed was a sorrow he had simply grown numb to. Yet, he still yearned to have someone to share the grapples of routine life with, someone whose presence alone would effortlessly diminish his worries, someone he could make love to before falling asleep and waking up intertwined.

But he couldn’t afford to have that.

At least this date was bound to fail; the woman’s demanding nature, coupled with Chan’s unwillingness to even be there in the first place sure to make their wasted time brief.

Just as he’s about to grumble about the messages again, Hyerin comes stumbling out of her room, her small feet shuffling against the floor as she rubs her sleepy eyes.

“Oh, honey, were we being too loud?” Chan asks sweetly, and his eyes discreetly shoot daggers at Jisung, who mouths an apology.

Hyerin firmly shakes her head, the crooked pigtails Chan clumsily had tied this morning coming undone as she does so. He smiles at her, propping his elbows on his knees and waiting for her to speak her little mind.

“I had a dream,” she mumbles. “With a dragon.”

Chan gasps, hands wrapping around her tiny frame and picking her up before walking toward her room. It took him some time, but he ultimately learned that it’s best to ease her back into bed while she’s distracted, lest she throws a tantrum.

“And was it a nice dragon?” He asks. Hyerin giggles, and Chan is positive that the sound has the power to light up even his most somber days.

“Of course it was a nice dragon, daddy,” she tells him. “You said I only have nice dreams ‘cause my mind is pretty, remember?”

Chan nods as he gently tucks her back into bed, triple-checking that she is comfortable and warm. “Of course, of course. How could I forget?” He slaps a hand on his forehead with a sigh. “Hyerinnie has the prettiest mind. It can only make up pretty things.”

Hyerin smiles at him, tugging her blanket close to her chin, her doe eyes already heavy with sleep and blinking languidly. Chan asks her the same question he does every night, although the answer remains unchanging every time: would she like him to sing to her? She drowsily tells him she wants to hear him sing her favorite song, Little Star.

Chan promptly gets under the covers beside her — Hyerin pouting and whining about how he’s stealing her blanket for himself, to which he can’t help the hearty laugh that escapes his lips. Since turning four, she’s developed quite a strong personality that Chan soon finds he adores, much like everything about her.

He turns on his side to watch her features as he sings; her nose and mouth so similar to his, and the way she furrows her brows while falling asleep mirrors his own habits. Chan might not be a happy man in his job or his personal life, but the boundless happiness his little gift provides him surpasses anything else he could wish for. Every now and then, he finds himself wanting more, but it’s not long before he realizes he already has everything he needs.

Chan goes over his rather extensive list of how to care for Hyerin with Jisung for the tenth time that evening, making sure the younger man knows what to do in any situation that could arise in the couple hours he’ll be gone. Hyerin is the one to usher him out of the apartment, assuring him she’ll be fine with her uncle Han, and Chan has to stop himself from wallowing over the fact that his once tiny baby is rapidly blossoming into a young kid.

He made no real effort to dress for his date; a simple button-up shirt and jeans served him just fine, seeing as he plans to return home as soon as possible. His date and he haven’t talked much at all since his initial texts yesterday, texting each other only to confirm the time and place of their basically forced date.

He arrives fifteen minutes late, all but running from the bus stop to the restaurant while cursing Jisung under his breath. This was definitely not worth the hassle, and Chan wanted nothing more than to be back at home with his daughter. He’d pick watching Tangled with her for the hundredth time over an unwanted date in a heartbeat.

Chan finally walks into the restaurant, informing the waiter that he’s there to meet Cherry. His face visibly grimaces as he mutters the words. Fuck this blind date bullshit.

He’s led to his table, dragging his feet behind the waiter. His attention is immediately drawn to the pencil holding his date’s messy ponytail together. He chuckles quietly, circling around the table and forcing out a smile to introduce himself.

But then he’s met with a sight he had long given up hope of ever seeing again: you.

You, who were next to him as he made stupid decisions during college. Like when he drunkenly thought it wise to bet his laptop in a game of beer pong.

You, who always made him your special hangover soup after a party. He especially loved it when you let him keep the leftovers, knowing that he and his roommate were hopeless in the kitchen.

You, who filled the space in his cold sheets with warmth and always made his bed feel like a sanctuary.

You, who let him make love to you despite you both swearing to be only friends.

You, who later had to watch him walk away from you like a coward, driven by sheer fear.

You, staring back at him with a stunned look on your face.

“Chan?” You ask, an unsure lilt to your words.

And Chan embarrassingly fumbles over his words, his tongue tying itself into knots in front of you. He notices you pursing your lips to stop from giggling and clears his throat a bit too loudly, a few patrons turning their heads to look at him. But he can’t bring himself to care, not when it seems the universe has turned the wheels of his fate in his favor for once.

“Uh, hi,” is all his brain can muster among the jumble of thoughts inside his head. He mentally berates himself for acting so damn awkward when you’re clearly not as affected by this encounter as he is.

“Damn, it’s been so long,” you marvel, eyes not leaving his face for a second. “I thought you moved to a different country or something. It’s so strange how we never ran into each other.”

Chan forces out a chuckle, hands now fiddling with the menu on the table. Of course you two never ran into each other; he only ever leaves the house for work or when he has to accompany Hyerin, and he doubts you frequent playgrounds or zoos.

“Yeah, I… don’t go out much anymore,” he simply says.

You hum, and he properly takes in your appearance. You haven’t changed one bit; from your hair to your choice of clothes, you’re still the same girl who ruled over his every thought during college.

You two order your food and fall into an infuriating cycle of small talk. Chan doesn’t want to talk about the weather or if you have seen the latest movie yet — he’s desperate to ask you how you’ve been, if you ever pursued your dreams, if you can still outdrink anyone in your friend group, and—

And if you’re still single because you find relationships a hassle.

But as the food arrives, you fall into an even more frustrating cycle: silence. Chan feels restless, squirming in his seat every few minutes while you calmly eat and watch the people around you. He remembers your habit of scanning crowded rooms and making up stories for strangers with your vivid imagination. He wants to ask if you still do that, but it seems he’s only grown into more of a coward since your last encounter.

You’re the first to break the silence, waiting for the waiter to leave with your plates to ask what Chan has been doing since graduating. It’s a casual question with no weight to your words, as lighthearted as you have always been. And the complete opposite of his every possible answer.

How can he tell you he’s given up music altogether, now surrounded by gray walls and lifeless faces in his corporate job? How can he tell you he’s alone most of the time, partly by choice and partly because he doesn’t know how to dig himself out of this comfortable hole he’s trapped himself in?

How can he possibly explain that he agreed to be a single father, sacrificing his own happiness for the selfish whims of a woman who never even loved him?

You’re still the same; the same carefree eyes and attitude, same easygoing approach to everything life throws your way — such as meeting him again after years.

All of him has changed.

Chan can’t tarnish your colorful life, can’t sit before you and spill out his problems or grumble about the overwhelming loneliness in his life when he knows damn well that was a consequence of his own choices.

He wants nothing more than to be the same Chan he was in college. Creating life stories for strangers in dive bars with you, not caring about whether he’ll have enough money to pay the water bill next month, not having to bear the burden of something as precious as a human life depending solely on him.

It’s selfish, but he wants nothing more than to go back.

So he does.

“I actually still write songs, though it’s only a freelance thing,” he lies. He hasn’t written a single note in years. “Other than that, I’ve just been taking it day by day. Same as I’ve always done, I guess.”

And your eyes immediately light up — you’ve always loved his songs, after all. Your conversation flows much like it used to in the past after that, with you making witty jokes and Chan laughing loudly at them. You tell him you started working as an art teacher for the elderly when living off of commissions became impossible, and that you adore the stories they share about their younger years. They remind you of your own stories together, you admit with a genuine smile.

Your conversation is endless, continuing even as Chan walks you to your car in the empty parking lot. The night has grown colder, and the crescent moon gleaming in the sky above him almost feels like a sign that things will change for the better.

As you two stand in front of your car, a smile tugs at the corner of your lips. Ever the free soul, you ask him outright if he would like to come back to your place. There are no further implications hidden in your request beyond a hookup. Nothing’s ever heavy with you, every little thing always feeling light as a feather.

He says he would love to, but quickly excuses himself under the guise of calling his roommate about the spare key. Chan hurriedly calls Jisung as soon as he turns a corner in the parking lot, ensuring you won’t be able to hear him. It’s juvenile, the way he’s actually taking pleasure in almost creating a different version of himself — a version much closer to who he was when you were his, at least in some sense of the word. He’s a father, he should be responsible and dependable, but the weight of that role had been thrust upon him far too abruptly. He can’t be faulted for wanting to go back in time.

“Okay, I have no time to explain,” he blurts out as soon as Jisung picks up the phone. “Would it be too much to ask you to stay the night?”

Jisung chuckles at the other end of the line. “Damn, was the date that good?”

Chan ignores his sly comment, because yes, the date was everything he never thought it could be.

“I’ll be back first thing in the morning,” he assures him. “I’ll even pay you if you want. How much—”

“Hey, no need for that,” Jisung cuts him off. “You know I love looking after Hyerin.”

And the pang of guilt inside his chest at the mention of his daughter’s name almost knocks the air out of his lungs. He feels ashamed, as if he’s neglecting his daughter for a hookup, going after a fantasy that has long crumbled and faded away.

“How is she? Is she okay?” He asks, guilt washing over him like a wave. He hadn’t thought of his daughter for a second that entire night. “Did she cry at all? Did she notice I was gone for longer than I promised?”

Jisung calls out his name with a chuckle, prompting him to stop his rambling. “Relax. We painted each other’s nails, she did my makeup, had her dinner, and is now sleeping soundly after listening to another one of uncle Han’s phenomenal stories about frogs,” He details, causing a hearty laugh to fall from Chan’s lips at the image of Jisung’s face painted with Hyerin’s cheap children’s makeup. His friend then adds, “Go get laid, man.”

And so Chan hangs up the phone, all but running toward your figure waiting by your car. You smile at him, taking his hand and pulling him into a tight embrace. It’s the first time he holds you in almost five years, and he feels his dull world away from Hyerin slowly fill up with vibrant hues.

It takes you less than fifteen minutes to reach your apartment building, and Chan is thanking any higher power that might listen for that. The sheer anticipation of what is implied to happen once you two are alone together has him picking at his cuticles until it stings.

He’s nervous, to put it lightly. A couple of terrible drunken hookups in dingy motels after office gatherings were his only sexual encounters after Hyerin was born.

But once you’re standing in front of him in your living room, your eyes never leaving his even as you’re slipping off your heels, Chan knows you’re both equals in this playing field. 

He’s the one to pull you into a kiss, lips barely grazing against yours. But the feeling of finally kissing you again after so many years was like wildfire, consuming him wholly until the kiss turns feverish. His hand travels from your shoulders to your lower back, pulling you flush against his body. You hum against his lips, fingers clumsily undoing his buckle, and the prospect that you might be as eager as he is has him gripping the fabric of your dress.

Chan swears his vision goes black the moment your fingertips brush against his hardening erection, the feathery touch enough to make him sigh into your mouth.

A hand is pressed to his chest before he has the chance to think, and you’re pushing him backward until his back meets the wall. You immediately drop to your knees in front of him, leaning forward and nuzzling your face against his clothed cock.

“I missed you,” you whisper, hungry eyes looking up at him. “Don’t think I got to say that.”

Chan takes in the sight of you, memorizing and storing it in his mind alongside the countless images he already had of you on his knees for him. His fingers thread in your hair, your lips falling open with a sigh.

“I missed you too,” he professes. You have no idea how much.

With a smile, you quickly work his zipper open, pulling his jeans down his legs and pressing a wet kiss to his clothed erection. Chan feels your tongue lap at his member through his boxers, lips sucking around the head as your nails scrape the flesh of his thighs lightly.

It feels like you mouth at his length for hours, the light gray fabric of his boxers stained with your saliva and his precum, leaving Chan panting and tugging at your hair. You trail soft, wet kisses down his thigh while pushing his boxers out of your way, his cock already swollen and flushed. He’d be embarrassed for the way his body reacted so responsively to you if you weren’t also visibly as affected.

Your tongue circles his length languidly, lapping at a small bead of precum with a hum. Finally wrapping your lips around his tip, your tongue flicks teasingly beneath the head of his cock, Chan sucking in a deep breath and using his grip on your hair as leverage to pull you toward him. You almost obediently drop your jaw to slide his now fully hardened length into your mouth, your hand wrapping around the base as you begin to bob your head up and down his cock. Chan hisses your name when you relax your throat after a few passes, taking him fully into your pretty mouth, your nose brushing his pelvis.

“Fuck, you always looked so pretty like that,” Chan chokes out. “Pretty lips taking me so well.”

You groan at his words and the vibrations traveling along his shaft have Chan growling with a harsh tug of your hair, causing you to sputter as his cock hit the back of your throat. You seek purchase in his hips as tears prick the corner of your eyes. You’re unrelenting nonetheless, circling your tongue around him before pulling away, hands now sliding up his thigh before gently gliding over his balls. As you slowly lick from the base of his shaft all the way up to the sensitive tip, Chan’s gaze shifts down as he catches a glimpse of your thighs rubbing together. He feels himself twitch, and immediately pulls you away from him.

“Don’t wanna come like this, I need to fuck you,” he rasps out.

You stand back up, legs wobbly, and fumble with the buttons of his shirt while he slides your dress down your shoulders. Your movements are messy and filled with urgency, your breaths quickening as you both want nothing more than to strip away any form of barrier between you. Piling up five years of yearning will do that.

As your impatience reaches its peak, you tear open the last remaining buttons of his shirt, your nails grazing his skin as you slide the fabric down his shoulders. A wave of goosebumps travels across Chan’s body, and his hands abandon the task of removing your dress in favor of tracing the curve of your ass before picking you up off the floor.

“First door on the right,” you tell him, your words answering his unspoken thoughts as if you could read his mind. Chan nods, your proximity making it impossible for him not to press his lips to yours, tongue sliding over your bottom lip before licking into your mouth with a low hum.

He collides with a wall, missing the entrance to your bedroom by a hair’s breadth, and you giggle against his lips. Chan smiles back. Nothing’s ever heavy with you.

He lowers you onto the bed gently, his body instinctively slotting between your spread legs the way he did so many times before. You soon also wrap your thighs around his waist as you always did, pulling him closer until his cock is pressed up against your clothed pussy.

“Wanna ride you,” you tell him, grinding your hips forward and eliciting a quiet moan from Chan’s lips as he hastily nods. With a tight grip on your waist, he flips you both effortlessly.

Promptly sitting up on his thighs, you finally rid yourself of the inconvenient fabric of your dress, followed by your bra, your nipples instantly hardening. Chan sits up, eyes transfixed on your chest as his calloused thumbs trace the nubs before his lips circle around one, sucking harshly. As you gently roll your hips, he can feel the way your soaked panties cling to his skin as your core presses up against his thigh.

Your fingers tangle in his hair with a whimper, pushing his face into your breasts as he bites the sensitive skin. His lips leave your nipples with a wet sound, then trailing kisses up the column of your neck until his gaze is locked on yours again. He was dying to mark you, bite and suck on your skin until it blossomed into a beautiful maroon — but he knew better. You weren’t twenty anymore, and you weren’t his; in no sense of the word.

“I’m on the pill,” you tell him, eyes heavy with lust.

And he knows this is a terrible idea. This was exactly how he came to be a father.

But it’s not his mind that’s doing the thinking, and so he nods, his grip on your hips tightening as you pull your soaked panties to the side just enough to slide the swollen tip of his cock against your slick folds. Chan sucks in a breath, fighting a war against his own body not to come from this feeling alone. It wasn’t just how long it had been since he was with someone, it was you. It was all you. The effect you had always had on him having never faded, simply laying dormant until his body had you again.

Chan rests his forehead on yours as you slowly sink down on his length. His lips find your neck again, gently sucking the skin into his mouth as you slowly grind down on him, a whine falling from your lips and going straight to his cock. His hips buck up unwittingly, causing you to moan loudly in his ears. But your slow pace remains, and Chan knows he should savor this moment, but he wants nothing more than to fuck you into the mattress until he forgets every minor issue aggravating his brain.

Such as the fact that he knows you will leave his life again the second you find out he lied to you.

So his hands find your waist and he flips you down onto the mattress once more. His eyes bore into you as you suck in a breath.

“Fuck me,” you plead, hips grinding into his cock again. “I want it, please—”

Chan doesn’t waste another second, retreating only to plunge back harshly into your cunt. He moves with deep strokes, hips falling into an erratic rhythm, your nails digging into his back as your thighs clenched around his waist. All he can hear is static and your choked moans as he presses you into the mattress.

“Missed this so fucking much,” he groans against your ear. And finally succumbing to his desires, he bends down to suck and nibble on the delicate skin of your neck, mind too focused on how your walls squeeze around him to worry about marking you. He laps at the small bruises he leaves behind, your fingers tangling in his hair as you mewl.

You roll your hips, matching his rhythm, and Chan feels a familiar heat rise within him. He reaches down to glide small circles around your clit, your body jolting and squirming. He absentmindedly smiles against your skin.

After an entire night of pretending his life was the same as it was five years ago, fucking you required no acting.

“It’s too much, fuck,” you whimper, tugging him by the hair until your lips are crashing together in a sloppy kiss. Your walls tighten around him, body clenching as the tension finally snaps, your orgasm coursing through your shaking body as Chan growls into your parted lips.

He keeps fucking into you, until his hips meet yours one last time, and a low groan reverberates through the room. His cock twitches inside of you as his body stills, filling you with his warm release which leaked out of you and onto your sheets as he pulled out with a sigh.

Chan throws himself onto the mattress, labored breaths leaving his heavy lungs. He pulls you into his arms, and you melt into his embrace as if it were a habit. It’s as though he’s gone back in time, even if temporarily.

He feels like he’s simply a guy making love with the girl he adores in the familiar comfort of his dorm room again.

When the first rays of sunlight seeped into your room, Chan was already awake. He watched as you slept, eyelids fluttering and a small smile adorning your lips.

It was as if you were his, in every sense of the word.

Guilt.

That’s what Chan feels every time he sees Hyerin’s laughing face on his phone’s wallpaper when he’s out, entertaining the silly lie he crafted.

It’s been two months since you reconnected and you effortlessly slipped him back into your life. The reunion with his old friends was expected — but Chan dreaded it, regardless. He found that out of the nine people that once comprised their group, only five remained. He wasn’t the only one who had gone his own way.

But he was the only one who had done it in the worst way possible, carelessly ghosting every single one of them, hoping his existence gradually faded from their memories.

That made facing his once best friend frightening. Minho was the first friend he made on the very first day of university, when Chan walked into his dorm room only to find he had snuck his cat into the building.

They were roommates for two years, and best friends for four. Chan complained loudly when he was assigned a new roommate. Minho was silent as he watched his best friend turn his back on him with no explanation.

Minho initially ignored him entirely, and Chan doesn’t fault him. When his vibrant face turned cold upon seeing him walk into a bar, Chan knew he earned that the moment he decided to ignore his friend’s every text message and phone call. When Minho made backhanded remarks about how nice it felt to have him back in their group, he knew he deserved it for not answering the door the only time his friend came looking for him.

It takes a drunken argument leading to a fist colliding with Chan’s cheek for Minho to finally address him. It takes them being escorted out of the bar by security for them to finally have a conversation, tears and resentment flowing freely as they sat at a bus stop late at night. After that, their friendship returned to what it was before, as if they had never been apart even for a second.

Despite the years and the changes, Minho was still his best friend — which was why he was the only person he came clean to.

Hyerin loved Minho, especially his cats. Her new favorite pastime quickly became going over to his house to play with her new ‘friends’, as she called them. And Chan was overwhelmed with happiness to witness his best friend falling under his daughter’s spell — his house now containing its very own box filled with every toy Hyerin mentioned even once, his kitchen stocked with all her favorite foods, and his cats falling asleep beside her anytime they came over to visit.

It was as if he was watching his two worlds collide. His past and present, which he had separated out of a senseless fear, intertwined so effortlessly it made him feel stupid for ever thinking he needed to build this barrier. For assuming the people he loved so much would reject him.

Made him feel even worse for walking away in a futile attempt to protect his feelings, because it only resulted in more hurt.

After so much of his time spent wondering, Chan finally has the answer to his questions. Some of his friends did settle for an ordinary adult life, some already married and some focusing their energy solely on climbing the corporate ladder. Still, some remained relatively unchanged — much like you did.

His social life blossomed again after reconnecting with his old friends. However, he still refused to hire a nanny, too fearful to leave Hyerin to a stranger’s care, resulting in constantly having to come up with excuses when his parents aren’t able to babysit. He won’t deny that he often fabricated these lies purely because staying in with his daughter and watching Tangled now outweighs any appeal of noisy nightclubs.

Jisung remained his salvation whenever he wanted to spend the night at your place, with Chan slowly but surely running out of reasons as to why you can’t go to his apartment for a change. He hasn’t had the heart or the courage to tell you the entire truth yet, only owning up to his lie about his job after you understandably asked him to listen to his new music and he was put on the spot.

Ever since you walked back into his life, he finds himself weaving a web of little white lies that slowly chip away at his heart.

He’s at a small gathering for his friend’s birthday, listening to Minho all but eulogize his fiancee. They have been a couple since university, Chan playing the wingman and encouraging his friend to finally do something about his crush (mostly because he couldn’t handle any more of Minho’s whining before going to sleep). Despite what everyone around them surmised, they beat all the odds and statistics and stayed together even after university. Chan would be happier about that if he hadn’t bet money on them breaking up before graduation. He wonders if Hongjoong will ask for his twenty bucks now that they’re friends again. 

“No, really, settling down with someone is so good,” Minho says after another shot of Soju, a silly smile etched onto his lips. “I thought I would hate it, y’know? Thought slapping such a significant title on our relationship would wear it down, but it’s the complete opposite. Ever since she proposed, it’s like we’re two love-struck nineteen-year-olds again.”

Chan smiles, saying they should drink to that purely because he hopes the sensation of alcohol burning his throat will numb his overwhelming jealousy. After congratulating Minho for the umpteenth time, he finds himself listening to yet another story about his relationship.

And he’s happy for Minho, just as much as he’s happy for Wonwoo for getting married last year. He couldn’t express the overwhelming joy he felt upon discovering these people, who once meant so much to him, had successfully navigated their way through life. But envy rears its ugly head every time he listens to one of their stories, because Chan’s direction in life seems to be a winding road. He’s a father, and his love for Hyerin is immeasurable, but he’s still actively lying about this side of him simply because he feels as if maybe he made the right choices in life at the worst possible time.

As he’s walking out of Hongjoong’s apartment with you later that night, he wraps an arm around your waist, a smile spreading across his face when you nestle closer to him. You two discuss Wonwoo’s marriage, with you talking about how beautiful the ceremony was, but ultimately scowling at the mere thought of getting married. Chan feels the corner of his heart crack at your words, but he laughs it off.

“Do you think he wants kids?” he wonders aloud.

He expects you to laugh at his sudden curiosity. He doesn’t expect you to dig at the fissure in his heart with your words, causing it to shatter completely.

“Gosh, it’d be so weird to see.” You cringe, snuggling deeper into his arms as a chilly breeze brushes against you two. “I like kids, but I’d never have them myself. Feel like it’d kinda ruin my life.”

Chan feels his grip on your waist loosen.

“Having kids doesn’t ruin your life,” he reasons. “You’re given the chance to care for something so precious, so important to this world…” he trails off, shaking his head and taking a step away from you. It feels as if exasperation has filled his entire being. “You look into their eyes and see yourself, and it’s— the love you feel when you first see them is so pure and earth-shattering that you can’t think of anything but how to make that tiny being only experience the good in the world. It doesn’t ruin your life.”

You eye him with confusion, cocking your head to the side and huffing out a laugh. “You talk like you know what that’s like. If you ever have kids one day, then you’ll know—”

“But I do know,” he’s yelling before he can stop himself, his footsteps coming to a halt. “I know because I have that. I have that and it’s the most precious thing in my life and yet I’ve been taking it for granted. And for what?”

He scoffs bitterly, his gaze fixing on your features; your flushed cheeks and slightly smudged lipstick, the way your puzzled eyes gleam under the moonlight. He shakes his head. 

“For childish illusions. The illusion that I could go back in time if I pretended hard enough, the illusion that this romanticized idea I have of my early twenties was superior to the life I have now,” Chan lets out a heavy breath, averting his gaze to the pavement. “The illusion that I could ever have you.”

“So it’s my fault you chose to lie about being a dad?” You blurt out.

He doesn’t lift his head. He can’t, the burden of guilt and shame weighing too heavily on his shoulders for him to face you.

“It’s my fault. You were simply the catalyst.”

“What do you even mean?”

“I mean I’ve always felt this way,” he exasperates, finally lifting his head but keeping his gaze anywhere but on you. He’s a coward. “I’ve always felt like maybe I was too young to be a dad, too immature to fully understand the consequences of the choices I made. I don’t regret my daughter, but I certainly regret the timing, and this haunts me every day. Meeting you again just made these feelings worse because you represent everything about my past that I no longer have.”

You remain quiet for a beat, but it feels like an eternity as Chan is forced to endure the deafening ring of your silence.

When you finally speak, your voice is unsteady. “You know, that’s why I always figured it was for the best that you left.”

“What?” Chan turns his gaze toward your face at last, your words stomping on his scattered heart one last time. He expects anger, but sorrow has taken over your expression, one so heavy he doesn’t recall a single moment in the years he’s known you where he’s seen you like this.

“You were always like this, Chan. You might think you were a different person back then, but you said it yourself,” you shrug with a sullen chuckle. “It’s only an illusion.”

He hums, nodding his head as it dawns on him. “You were never gonna be mine, were you? No matter what I did. I lied to you because I thought you would never want someone like who I am today. But I guess that was all in vain, ‘cause I’ve always been like this.”

“You always talked about getting married, settling down, having kids.” As you run a hand through your hair, an exasperated sigh falls from your lips. “You went along with our bullshit, but even back then, you were always like the dad of our group. This has always been you, Chan, but that’s not a bad thing. Don’t think you need to change or lie about who you are ‘cause you’re the most amazing man I’ve ever met, but…”

He scoffs. “But?”

“But we’re too different. We’ve always been. We’re great together in every way but the way you want us to be — the way I would love for us to be as well,” you simply say, offering him a smile that doesn’t quite reach your eyes.

“And would it kill you if we tried? ‘Cause this unfulfilled hope has been killing me since I first fell in love with you.”

“What’s her name?” You simply ask, avoiding his question altogether. Chan furrows his brows. “Your daughter, what’s her name?”

He shifts on his feet. “Hyerin.”

“I hope she knows how lucky she is to have you as a dad.”

Chan shakes his head. “I’m far from the perfect father.”

“Good,” you state matter-of-factly. “Perfect wouldn’t be you.”

You fall into a much lighter silence, although it’s still far from comfortable. A swarm of questions fills Chan’s mind, but his words fade into silence and die on his lips.

He knows everything is over when you suck in a sharp breath, muttering, “I can’t be what you need. When love becomes too serious, I feel trapped and run away. You know what that’s like,” you trail off. “I know we loved each other back then, and I know I still love you now, but I think it’s my turn to walk away. I’m sorry, Chan.”

And just like that, he’s left to watch your figure slowly grow smaller and smaller as you fade into the dimly lit street. You don’t reprimand him for lying or question if he also loves you still. You don’t explain why you can’t make an effort, probably because you’re unsure of the answer yourself. It turns out you both remained unchanged.

And after all this time, it’s only then that Chan realizes you were always just as lost as he was.

Chan didn’t allow himself to think much about you since he watched you walk away that night. He missed you often, as he had done for so long before your last encounter, but he had long grown numb to that feeling.

In the two years he was apart from you for the second time, he learned that life isn’t black or white. He could be a father while also being his own person; a son, a friend, a boyfriend. He learned that prioritizing Hyerin didn’t mean neglecting himself, as that would negatively impact her as well. She couldn’t only know happiness if her father was always dripping with sadness.

He learned he doesn’t have to choose between who he is now and who he was at twenty years old; they were both him, with certain moments bringing out glimpses of one or the other.

Hyerin started elementary school and is blossoming into a caring little girl, no longer needing Chan to tie her pigtails in the morning or remind her to brush her teeth before bed. Although she still demands that they maintain their nightly routine of lying together until she falls asleep to the sound of his voice singing her favorite song.

During his first parent-teacher conference — after walking into the classroom fifteen minutes late — he’s stunned to see you sitting across from him yet again, a pencil holding up your ponytail the same way it did that night at the restaurant. He couldn’t help the smile that spread on his lips.

You were Hyerin’s teacher. He recalled picking her up after her first day of school and listening to her gush over the art teacher who was so pretty and nice, and talking about how she wanted to be like her when she grows up.

It felt as if you were destined to find each other every time one of you chose to walk away.

Your friendship picked up again slowly this time — no rushing into bed together and no rushing into long overdue serious conversations. They had already been avoided for years, anyway, they could wait a bit longer. This is exactly what you needed; patience. Chan had never had the patience to wait for you, while you never had the patience to understand your own feelings.

It’s been ten months now, and he’s yet again sitting before you. The teachers and parents converse around you both as you sit in silence. When you think no one is watching, you exchange glances, struggling to suppress the silly smiles that insist on spreading across your faces.

As people leave the room one by one after the meeting, Chan approaches you.

“You’re Bang Hyerin’s father, correct?” You speak with a grin.

“Correct.”

“She’s an amazing kid,” you tell him.

He smiles, shifting his gaze toward his feet before his eyes find yours again as you speak.

“We could grab a coffee this weekend.”

This time, there are further implications hidden in your request. You’re not asking as a friend, like you’ve been doing these past months. Some things are heavy with you now, and this is something he’s only recently come to find. He’s also come to find that he loves that change.

So he answers, “Sure. Tomorrow at three?”

“Then I’m your date for tomorrow,” you say with a giggle. “See you there, cutie.”

And Chan lets out a hearty laugh at that, which earns him a scolding look from the other teachers in the room.

He isn’t sure what will come of this. Maybe you two are better off as friends and all it will take is a couple of months to figure that out. Maybe time has changed you both more than he can understand, and you will finally be able to try something real after all these years of unfulfilled hopes and childish illusions.

Either way, Chan knows he won’t let go of you this time.

He wants you to be his, in any sense of the word.

♡ taglist: @bloom-ings, @linocz, @farahia, @mirbokk, @jisunglyricist, @jazziwritesthings, @seungseung-minmin, @yourcvndx, @hynjinnnnnnnie @vlctorriaa @yongbokkiesworld

Kill this love

꘎♡━━━━━♡꘎ ꘎♡━━━━━♡꘎

Pairing: Chan X gn reader

Summary: After a rough day, Chan's anger is taken out on you and it tends to bring up unhealed wounds from your past relationship.

Genre: Angst without a happy ending

Word Count: 2.2K

Trigger warning: Anger, implications of post-traumatic-stress-disorder, domestic abuse, and a panic attack.

A/N: This one was a request and I finally got around to it. Hooray!! I might have cried a little while writing this and I never want to ever write Chan angry again because this is the second one and it makes me feel bad, but here you go <3

_ _ _

It was hard to be a leader. It meant stepping forward and being a pillar on your worst days. Going the extra mile, even when you just wanted to collapse into a ball and cry. It meant carrying the burden for your members, trying to keep everything in order, and keeping your image squeaky clean. 

The media is ruthless. One new article can destroy a career. One dating rumor can fuel acidic hatred. One fuck-up can destroy you in the eyes of your fans. When your number one fans morph into number one haters. When words of praise and smiles become scowls, glares, and castigation. 

There was always a blooming anxiety overhead. Storm clouds that threatened to downpour at any moment and when your company was constantly chastising you, well…being a leader was hard. 

It was a privilege to be a leader, but lately, it had been nothing, but a burden; a sheet of plastic wrap that was far too tight for him to breathe in. No matter what he seemed to do, it just wasn’t working lately. He couldn’t please the company, the fans were whining about something far from his control, and the members weren’t listening. He loved them, but sometimes they just wanted to bicker and screw around instead of cooperate. 

“What is going on today?” Minho mumbled beneath his breath. 

“You’re telling me,” Chan grumbled in response. The pair were attempting to teach yet another challenging dance, but nobody wanted to take the time to listen. 

After traveling out of the country and coming back this week, the company only gave them one day to rest. It was one day too little. The guys were exhausted and whiny. Nobody wanted to put in the effort to learn the dance and everyone just wanted to go home. 

“Hello?” Minho called out, a weak attempt to put the spotlight back on him, but it didn’t work. “Guys?” 

Seungmin and Felix were missing from the group. The two of them said something about using the bathroom, but that was nearly twenty minutes ago. Changbin had Han pinned down onto the floor. I.N was sprawled out over the couch and Hyunjin was bouncing on top of him while I.N weakly attempted to shove him off. 

“What’s the point of attempting to teach the dance if they won’t listen?” 

“Guys!” Chan’s sharp voice shot through the air. 

That drew their attention towards him rather quickly. Four sets of eyes met him and he crossed his arms over his own chest. “Get up and knock it off! We have work to do and w-” 

He was cut off by the door to the dance studio opening. He assumed that it was Felix and Seungmin, but when you headed over towards him with a frown, he only assumed the worst. The water bottle in his hand went flying out of anger. To your surprise, it swung past your head. 

Your eyes went wide at the sudden reaction. Chan took your breath away in multiple ways during the relationship, but for once, you really couldn’t breathe. You were sucked back into your past relationship. The vacuum of your brain pulled you in before you could do anything. 

You couldn’t breathe and you couldn’t scream. Everything you tried to rebuild, it crumbled; your self-dignity, self-respect, and self-love. They had been stacked on a pile of styrofoam and now it was melting. 

Chan began to yell at you, but you didn’t hear him. You were aware of his hands waving and his lips moving, but you couldn’t hear anything he was saying. The words never reached your ears as the memories from your last relationship came flooding back. 

You still remembered the scent of tobacco from them. The way it was always overpowering and seemed to burn your nostrils and coat your tongue. Even now without them, you could smell it again. You suddenly felt nauseous as your stomach twisted and churned. 

The rest of the guys sat shocked as Chan yelled at you. They knew his anger came out in rough ways sometimes, but they never thought he’d take it out on you. After all, the two of you had been dating for quite a while. 

You spun around and rushed out the door. Down the hall you flew and you didn’t stop. When Felix and Seungmin were giggling as they turned down the hall, you shoved your body between them and bumped into their shoulders. There wasn’t time to apologize, you just rushed away. 

Felix tried to call after you, but you didn’t stop to listen. Instead, you ran back towards the entrance of the building. Your heart was a hammer in your chest and fear clutched your heart. 

Sometimes people were fragile and vulnerable. You didn’t work up the courage to tell Chan because the truth was that you were terrified. When people hear about the abuse that occurs in romantic relationships, quite often, the first response is “why didn’t you just leave?” It’s never just that simple. 

Domestic abuse tends to follow the cycle of abuse. Everything seems okay for a while and suddenly things begin to get tense. Every action you take seems to be a ticking time bomb. You’re walking on eggshells and then you hit a landmine. 

You could still remember the redness of your past lover’s face. The way that a vein bulged in their forehead as they screamed at you until their voice gave out. Then came the sorrow filled apologies. 

“I didn’t mean to, I swear.” 

“It won’t happen again, I promise.” 

“I was just angry, I’m sorry.” 

And because you wanted to believe it was a one time thing, you believed them, but then it just kept happening. Over and over and over and over again. They call the peace after that burst of aggression the honeymoon phase. 

The kindness you experienced, you fell in love all over again. The occasional candybar you’d get. The apology with flowers and a handwritten card. The bags of greasy fast food with hushed promises to do better. 

Words without actions are meaningless. Promises mean nothing, if you keep breaking them. Just when you thought it was safe for you, your significant other burst again. You thought you were free of it, but here you were again. At least, at the beginning of it, and now you were terrified that it was going to happen all over again. 

When Felix and Seungmin got back to the dance practice room, it was oddly quiet. Minho glanced up when the pair walked in, but he didn’t feel like teaching anymore. The fear on your face when the water bottle was thrown your way, he couldn’t get it out of his head. 

“Why are you all so quiet?” Seungmin asked. 

“Chan, did you see-” 

“I don’t wanna talk about it!” He snapped. “Let's just learn this stupid dance, so we can all go home.” 

“Did something happen?” Felix asked. 

“He chucked a water bottle at his significant other’s head,” Minho blurted out. 

“You…you what?” 

“It’s not like I meant to! Like you haven’t done dumb shit before!” 

“I’d never throw something at the love of my life, you asshole!” 

“Fuck off, Minho!” 

“Wait! Shut up for a minute!” Seungmin interrupted. “Did you seriously throw a water bottle?” 

“No, he also yelled at them and made them cry,” Hyunjin added. 

A look of terror was shared between Felix and Seungmin. Chan’s angry demeanor dropped instantly at the sight of it. “What was that? What did you two just do?” 

“Why would you ever do something like that? You know that they’ve been in an abusive relationship and now you ju-” 

Chan’s eyes widened. “They what? What are you talking about?” 

“You…you don’t know?” Felix’s voice softened. “They never told you, did they?” 

“Say you’re kidding.” 

“No, I thought you knew. They talked to Seungmin and I one day when they were struggling. They were looking for you, but came across us instead and they were having a mini breakdown about it and…” He trailed off. “God, you really did it now.” 

“What are you waiting for? Go after them!” Seungmin reached over and gave Chan a small shove. “Go try to win them back now that you fucked up your relationship. Don’t come back until you apologize.” 

Chan stumbled, but he didn’t fight Seungmin’s suggestion. Instead, he jogged to the practice door, swung it open, and disappeared outside. He cursed himself beneath his breath. How could he fuck it up this badly? 

Meanwhile, you rushed into your apartment with tears in your eyes. Your bottom lip quivered and you hugged yourself tightly, a weak attempt to soothe your soul, but it wasn’t working. The warmth of your hands rubbed up and down your arms, but it still didn’t help. 

You barely made it onto your couch before you curled into a ball and pressed your legs against your chest. How could he do that to you? He didn’t know, but how could he? Even when you were angry and outraged, you’d never imagine throwing something at someone. It was hard to wrap your head around. 

All those feelings from the past relationship were bubbling up again. You thought it was a one and done thing. You didn’t think the hurt would linger so much, but it did. The sting of betrayal and the hurt overflowed your heart. You were drowning in the feelings that you thought had washed away. 

You wanted the warmth and comfort of Chan, but now you were scared. The warmth you once craved became a fire. Too hot to touch and too dangerous to love. What if he did it again? What if next time, it turned into physical assault? What if? What if? What if? 

You squeezed your eyes shut and buried your head in the floral cushion. He was supposed to be your safe place, your rock, and your world. What happened now that it had fallen apart? What were you supposed to do? 

The idea of breaking up with him was unbearable, but you were so scared. You promised yourself you’d never settle for anything like the last relationship. What if it continued? The thought haunted you like a ghost. 

When the front door to your apartment slammed open, you jerked up on the couch. Your heart bucked wildly and your eyes widened when Chan rushed into the living room. When your eyes met, you felt yourself unable to breathe again. 

“Baby, I’m so sorry I-” He started to come towards you. 

“Don’t!” You barked and pulled back. 

“Let me just-” 

“Stop!” You cried out as you climbed over the arm of the couch. “Stop it, you’re scaring me!” 

He suddenly stopped with his arms outstretched towards you. “Please don’t say that, I just want to touch you. I shouldn’t have done that, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it. The guys were being a pain in my ass and I had no right to take it out on you, but I did. Please let me hold you.” 

“I-I can’t.” Your voice quivered and tears built up in your eyes. “I’m so afraid. I-I…please…” You sucked in a shaky breath. “Just stay over there and don’t come closer. I should have told you, but I-I was scared and-” A sob threatened to escape your lips. 

His heart broke all over again. It was like glass shattering over and over and over in his ears. What had he done to you? What did he do?

“About your past relationship?” He sank to his knees on the floor. “I found out from Felix and Seungmin. I didn’t know and if I did, I would have never done what I did. I shouldn’t have done it in the first place and there’s no excuse for it.” 

“Can’t you just get out?” 

“W-What?” 

“I don’t want you here right now. I need time and I-” The image of him blurred from your tears. “I need to think and I hate to say it, but I’m so scared you’ll do it again.” 

“I won’t. I’m not going to hurt you. I-” 

“Please!” You cried out with desperation. “Chan, please, I can’t do this right now, I-” You struggled to breathe. It was a fight to capture air in your lungs. 

He knew a panic attack when he saw one from you. They didn’t happen often and they were rare, but he used to comfort you during them. He used to rub your back and speak softly. The warmth of his breath on your neck as he helped coach you through deep breaths. 

“Sweetheart, don’t do this to me. I know you’re struggling to breathe, so just let me-” 

“Get out!” You shrieked. “Get the fuck out of my apartment! Get-” You sucked in a shallow breath. “Out!” 

His own tears began to fill his eyes. You were a wreck and it was all his fault. When he hesitated, ragged sobs fell from your body as you collapsed to the ground. It was as if someone was ripping up your heart. Your brain was fighting comfort and fear at the exact same time. 

“Please,” he whispered. 

When you shook your head with those watery eyes, he knew he had to go. His presence here was just making you worse. He couldn’t help you, no matter how much he wished he could. 

He pushed himself to his feet and took a final glance at you. You were curled up and half-hiding behind the couch arm for security. His eyes met yours and he managed to get out an “I love you.” 

And the worst part? 

You couldn’t find the strength to say it back. 

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