#reader reactions | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

onlyswan · 8 months

Text

summary: in which jungkook can’t sleep, and he can’t stop kissing you either.

> fluff, suggestive / word count: 2.6k

> content/warnings: alexa play seven by jungkook! mentions of s^x, lots and lots of cutie kisses :( they’re in that afterglow <3 oc’s chest is his pillow :(

> in which masterlist!

note: hi hi. here’s ur slice of pure self indulgent fluff 🍰 i just had to write abt this jk :P there’s a reference to in which you always get what you want and jungkook is dying to kiss you 🥹 reblogs & feedback are vv appreciated. i’d love to hear ur thoughts so feel free to scream or laugh or cry <3

—

a fleeting white light passes through your closed eyelids, nearly blinding, as you hear the familiar shutter of your boyfriend’s polaroid camera.

“jungkook,” you whimper weakly due to the sudden disturbance, burying your face on the soft pillows while pushing the camera away.

“shit, shit- sorry, baby-” he winces, guilty of disrupting your journey to slumber, as he scrambles to fix his mistake. “forgot to turn off the flash.”

he places the polaroid face down on the space behind him to give it the time to develop the photo he had taken. much to your relief, the bedroom falls silent once more except for the quiet humming and breathing of the airconditioner. you return to properly laying your head on the pillow, taking a small gasp of oxygen, and jungkook smiles because of how adorable you are for still refusing to open your eyes.

“can i take more pictures?”

“did you turn it off?” you whisper as you stretch your legs to find a more comfortable position, unwittingly pulling down the comforter and exposing your nakedness to the cool air. this gives rise to goosebumps on your skin, causing you to shiver, but your boyfriend is quick to your rescue. he catches the hem before it could slide past your skimpy shorts.

“i did.”

a chaste kiss is planted on your shoulder before it is returned underneath the warmth of soft layers of cotton and fabric.

you sigh, melting back into relaxation. “okay.”

he re-anchors his elbow into the mattress, resting his head on his palm to admire the majestic view of you. jungkook likes this a lot, he lives for it— lying on the bed face-to-face with his sated lover, spending the rest of the night feeling like his heart is not a big enough vessel to hold all the love he has for you. the lights he is yet to turn off have splashed the dark room with a red glow that engulfs your figure as well, escalating his heartbeat, so hypnotic and tantalizing, he finds himself breathing heavier and heavier behind the viewfinder, or maybe he has stopped breathing at all. the shutter briefly fills the silence.

this is… the arch of your back is burned in his mind and he swears he still tastes you on his tongue, but seeing you like this feels so different.

he was consumed by his pleasure and yours just half an hour ago, admittedly almost blinded by his own sweat dripping from his forehead because he simply couldn’t stop wanting more of you, giving himself to you. you weren’t exactly innocent either, with your provocative touches and coquettish smiles, whispering lewd words that was gasoline to the lust flaring up inside of him. he revels in seeing that you’re just as desperate for it as he is, if not more, purely from the way you beseech him with your eyes mirroring stained glass windows. he knows you love it when he fucks you so good it brings you to tears, welcoming the delightful intensity of his nature, and that you were also trying to tire him out so he’d finally feel sleepy, but holy shit, looking at you right now, he wants nothing more but to hold you with utmost gentleness.

wildly concentrated with his bottom lip tucked in between his teeth, he brushes away the hair that fell on your face before capturing another exquisite memory to be burned into film.

jungkook is greedy when it comes to you.

a disgruntled whine slips from your mouth when the pillow underneath your head is replaced by his thick arm, which is then rudely cut off by his lips crashing on yours.

clearly, you’ve grown too comfortable in this relationship.

“i love you.” he drunkenly mutters, instantly going for another kiss and barely finishing his another- “i love you.” before he’s kissing you again.

“babe-” you chuckle then gasp, holding on to his wrist as his tattooed hand loosely wraps around your neck.

“i love you. i love you, i love y- i love you, i love you, i love you, i love you, i love you.” he repeats himself over and over, the volume of his voice gradually getting quieter as he runs out of breath, until his tongue becomes tied. grounded by the feeling of your steady pulse beneath his thumb, he silences himself by tenderly kissing you, soft lips molding with yours for a wordless declaration of devotion this time around.

pure static— there are no thoughts running in your head. your limbs feel numb but tingly. you feel like you’re floating- no, you’re falling. the bed has turned into an abyss and you’re falling endlessly and jungkook holding you close is the only thing that makes sense. you might have to consider this true heaven, nothingness with your everything, when the whole world is lights-out and quiet that it feels like time has been suspended, and the only way to keep track of it is through each pump of your heart.

at last, your eyelids slowly flutter open as he pulls away, and he greets you with that boyish grin. “pretty.”

his hand on your neck moves to stroke your face lovingly, eyes glimmering with various emotions as they wander your features.

“____ is so, so pretty.”

“hm, really?” you hum sleepily, leaning closer to his touch. “thanks to you.”

“me?” his doe eyes widen in confusion.

“you know, for the afterglow. i feel nice.” you giggle brightly at your own half-joke, positively out of your goddamn mind as you hide your warm face on his shoulder.

“ahhh- ah!”

enlightenment then dawns on your boyfriend.

his giggles blend in with yours for a harmony that strikes the same joy as the sound of wind chimes on a windy day.

jungkook tries not to appear too cocky about the compliment, but consequences be damned, he would die satisfying his lover.

“oh yeah, baby? do you now?” there’s a self-satisfied smirk plastered on his face when you take a peek at him, which then morphs into a grin when your eyes meet. “i feel nice, too.”

“nice?” your voice comes out delicate, droopy eyes asking him for confirmation.

“nice.”

he feels a tug at his heartstrings.

“you know what? fucking great… i could never have enough of you.”

it becomes silent for a while. his tattooed hand slides under the comforter, letting his fingers skim across the side of your waist, feather-light touches on your bare skin before he’s pulling you closer to his body.

“i… i don’t doubt that feelings like this can only grow as time goes on but… it’s still amazing that when i think about it, even until now, all the time, i want to be with you.”

he involuntarily breathes out a shaky sigh, ears going red as they do when he’s expressing sincerity from the deepest parts of his soul.

“really, how do you do this…? what is this magic? why- why do i like you so much? i mean, i know why! of course! but, wow!” he squeezes his eyes shut to express his disbelief, clicking his head to the side. “it’s possible for it to be this much? do you get what i’m saying? i just have thoughts like that— love is so fascinating.”

you barely process his words with your brain still in a haze of bliss, but it’s funny, hearing these questions from the same man who has the entire world madly obsessed with him.

oh, this actually sounds familiar. he’s getting all sentimental and philosophical. again. and he’s not drunk. were you that good tonight?

“i won’t give away my secrets just like that. what if you use them on someone else?” you tease him, rubbing your tired eyes and shaking your head as you giggle.

you receive a dirty look from him, clearly offended and uninterested in the thought of putting in the hard effort to impress someone that isn’t you.

“aish, stop talking! i don’t like hearing you talk in that way.”

“then what else am i supposed to do? you’re the one who woke me up.” you retort in annoyance.

but you honestly don’t think there’s any secret to tell. jungkook is in love with you. plain and simple.

“you’re right, i’m sorry. go back to sleep if you want to.”

he dips down to plant gentle pecks on your shoulder, going down on a trail to your neck, and you unconsciously tilt your head to his convenience because he’s bringing the butterflies in your stomach back to life. it feels good, everything he does always feels good.

“you’re seriously not done?” you mumble against his lips, unfaltering with the kisses as if he would run out of them any minute now.

he stubbornly answers with a “no!” as his lips ghost over your cheek.

if only bam was here, jungkook would eventually leave you alone to rest. he would pester him with his late-night burst of affection instead while talking shit about you to your child because you dodged his kiss in your sleep.

“babe, you’re supposed to sleep. you have work later.”

“no, i don’t want to sleep. i… i want to kiss you- baby.” he protests as he continues to pepper your face with kisses, giving your body a particularly tight squeeze when he searches for your lips again.

you blink at him in confusion when he suddenly sends you a look of irritation, eyebrows furrowed and eyes glaring.

“you haven’t even said ‘i love you’ back yet.”

“oh, i haven’t?” you wince innocently. “sorry. i love you.”

but he should be the one apologizing to you, since it’s his fault that you still can’t think straight, or walk for that matter.

you pat around the mattress behind his back until you stumble upon the camera, and it’s jungkook’s turn to be your beloved muse. you scoot away until the lens manage to capture him down to his shirtless abdomen. you watch him in complete awe behind the viewfinder. he squints at you, raising his eyebrows flirtatiously, and he smirks when you chuckle in amusement.

“ah wait- take this! take this! you have to take a good one, got it? i worked so hard on them yesterday!” he eagerly voices out a special demand.

he shuffles to flex his arm infront of the camera, showing off his well-defined triceps and biceps while releasing rich, throaty grunts. totally unnecessary, but so achingly jungkook.

your boyfriend is outrageously, ridiculously sexy— he’s still wearing that stupid black headband he hastily put on in the middle of sex because he got pissed off at his hair and he needed it out of the way so he could ‘properly see his love’s beautiful body.’

you roll your eyes inside your head.

what a fucking tease.

nonetheless, you acquiesce.

the flash goes off.

and another polaroid is crafted into existence that you selfishly want to keep for your eyes only.

“baby, let me see.”

“it’s mine!” you scrunch your nose with a childlike charm, hiding the polaroid behind your back.

he chuckles, hopelessly endeared by you.

“yes, i’m yours.” he coos in response.

and your unguarded heart is once again swept away by the taste of his tongue. the camera becomes an abandoned item. your fingers daintily pushes off his headband in favor of freely tangling them with his silky hair, and it also ends up getting lost somewhere in the sheets as his sweet kisses lull you in a false sense of security… because out of nowhere, that same blazing light burns through your closed eyes for the second time tonight.

jungkook playfully waves the polaroid infront of your face, and his toothy grin is met by your unimpressed expression.

“this is mine!”

he has been waiting to jump into this type of opportunity, to orchestrate a romantic moment to be stolen in film— you can tell by the sparkles in his eyes. reminiscent of that one late night in a tiny photobooth where your younger and clueless selves were cramped in, this is what you and his hyungs often talk about, how much you share the same fondness for the fact that jungkook hasn’t changed at all.

“just how many pictures of you kissing me do you need?” you ask him lightheartedly.

he juts out his bottom lip sullenly, and a few beats pass before he forms an answer. “i always need more for when i miss you.”

you copy his frown. “then what about me when i’m missing you too?”

“hmmm… i want you to always remember me like this, baby.” he melodramatically declares as he picks up the one and only polaroid you’ve taken of him tonight. “can you see my abs too…? oh- it’s not showing yet.”

he looks back at you shyly with a laugh, and he places it back down to let it continue developing.

“i’ll look later. i can’t even keep my eyes open anymore. ‘m so tired.” you sadly sniffle to gain his pity, fluttering your damp eyelashes at him. “let’s go to sleep, please?”

jungkook doesn’t find it in himself to articulate a consolation or protest, not when you’re tugging him down to coax him into laying his head on your chest.

“heaven.” he moans, overcome by contentment.

he adjusts himself a bit to be more comfortable before dragging the comforter further upwards to provide warmth for the two of you, all the while refusing to remove his face nuzzled up against you.

“why are you always like this? can you even breathe?” you chuckle with your eyes closed.

“i love your boobs.” his honest reply comes out muffled, cute for some reason, along with his satisfied hums prompted by your nails lightly scratching his scalp.

“i know.”

he turns his head to the side to look up at you, and he carries on to speak with his cheek squished against you. “i really, really mean it.”

“yes, baby. i believe you.”

a minute of silence passes. the ecstasy still flooding your veins becomes a stepping stone in the pond towards your dreamland, where all is either fantastically perfect or horrifically fucked up.

but then you feel sloppy kisses being deliberately scattered in the middle of your chest, leading down to your stomach, and you get rudely knocked over into the cold, clear waters.

yes, plea- oh no, no, no, no.

“jungkook, baby, stop. i can’t go another round.” you whine pathetically, being driven closer to the urge to burst into tears.

“AH! o-ow- ouch- baby, wha- i swear, i wasn’t even planning on it!” he loudly exclaims in surprise when you harshly pull him away by his hair.

“still…” your voice cracks. “you know i’ll get turned on!”

his chuckles are infuriatingly raspy and of no help at all, ego inflating upon hearing your response and the frustration obviously laced with it.

“okay, okay! i’m sorry! i’ll behave now!”

thank god.

he assumes his previous position, the place that he deems to be the warmest and the coziest. as he wraps his arms around your waist, your fist relaxes into an open palm that cradles the back of his head.

“____?” he mumbles, finally feeling the tiredness seep into his sore muscles now that he’s lying motionless.

“hmm?”

“let’s eat dinner outside after work.”

“…meat?”

“and beer!” he adds, brimming with excitement, and he salivates as he can almost taste them in his mouth already. they are his favorite, after all.

“i’ll come pick you up then.” you drop a kiss on his forehead, and he sighs happily. “but go to sleep or else i’ll kick you out of the bedroom again.”

his sweet embrace becomes an iron grip.

cold and alone, he swears those were some of the worst three hours of his life.

he squeaks in defeat. “goodnight, baby.”

—

taglist in the reblogs! send an ask/dm if you want to be added (or removed) :D

—

#jungkook #jungkook fluff #jungkook drabble #jungkook scenario #jungkook imagine #jungkook one shot #jungkook fic #jungkook fanfic #bts fluff #bts reaction #jungkook angst #jungkook smut #jungkook x reader #jungkook x you

10K notes · View notes

goldenhypen · 2 months

Text

against the wall 𓈒 ݁ ₊

pairing. enhypen ot7 x reader

syn. literally just kisses against the wall with enhypen :’>

genre + warnings. fluff? suggestive? making out,,, literally just making out against a wall help me

wc. 1.9k (0.25k/member average… with jake’s as the exception… as always…)

a/n. help this is the most straightforward and out there and random fic ever help why does the title keep catching me off guard- but the idea of it alone gives me butterflies so maybe reading this will for you too,, enjoy :’>

❤︎ ⎯ lee HEESEUNG…

“careful not to hit your head, beautiful,” he said, catching the wall with his palm as your back hit the flat surface. he let out a tiny chuckle with a smirk that you could barely comprehend because not even a second later, his lips crashed right back onto yours, continuing right where he left off in your little make-out session.

he took the lead, first adjusting to find the best angle, arm leaning over you as his other hand held your jaw, tilting your head for better access. but amidst the passion-filled movements of his lips, he always had a way of keeping you at ease, allowing you to enjoy every second of it.

if it wasn’t for your body being held between his and the wall behind you, you would’ve been swept off your feet a long time ago.

your lips fit against his perfectly like a piece to a puzzle. being alone with him, the room was silent other than the sounds of your heavy breaths and lips repeatedly smashing against one other.

and he continued kissing you until your lips were sore and your heads spun in a drunken daze.

you stared at him as he pulled away, your mind empty as you consumed the sight of him, chest violently rising and falling, his fiery gaze never leaving your lips. and you watched as he dove down for yet another round.

❤︎ ⎯ park JONGSEONG…

as you were getting ready for the day to hang out with one of your friends, your phone lit up with an unexpected message from your boyfriend: hey, love, are you home? i’m outside :)

what was jongseong doing here?

you responded: coming!

running to the door, you opened it expectantly, only to find that your boyfriend wasn’t there. confused, you searched around for a second before your eyes landed on him, leaning on his car parked in front of your house. you smiled and quickly ran over.

“what are you doing here?” you asked excitedly.

“i don’t know,” he paused. “i just missed you.”

he stood up straight, back now off his car as he walked closer to you. so much so, however, that it caused you to back up, bumping straight into the wall of the vehicle.

you gulped. “you could’ve just called me or something.”

your last words nearly got lost in your throat by the way jongseong’s body was now trapping you between him and the car.

he was so close. were his lips always this pretty?

“but calling you wouldn’t allow me to do this…”

with his eyes fastened on your lips, he brought a hand to your chin and immediately pulled you in to meet your lips with his.

your heartbeat quickened at the unannounced gesture, yet you couldn’t help but melt under his touch, kissing him back.

as he placed one hand on the car behind you to lean in closer, the other circled to the side of your face, tilting your head to find that perfect angle.

you don’t know what had gotten into him, but were you complaining? not. at. all.

❤︎ ⎯ sim JAEYUN…

a gasp ran past your lips as jake pushed you against the hallway wall, a look of desire in his eyes, yet he made sure to support you so that you wouldn’t get hurt—the way he was gentle with his hands but sharp like daggers with his eyes.

he pressed an unexpectedly delicate kiss against yours lips, starting out soft but quickly escalating to something much more passionate, taking your breath away within seconds.

he pulled away, both of you panting as you got lost in each others’ eyes.

“you’re so beautiful, you know that?” jake whispered as his thumb caressed your cheekbone, finding himself unable to pull away from your loving stare. he smiled, wondering how he managed to ever get this lucky.

you chuckled. “yes, you tell me that every day.”

he let out a small and breathy laugh before calming into a soft smile. “yeah.”

eventually, and using all his willpower, he teared his eyes away, only to examine the rest of your facial features, and with every passing second—every inch of skin his eyes ran over—the beating of his heart grew more apparent to his ear drums. and his immense love for you broke down every bit and piece of strength he had in his soul, and he couldn’t help it. he just had to kiss you again.

and that’s exactly what he did, and it took only mere milliseconds before his lips found their way back home to yours, right where they belonged.

you smiled into the kiss, secretly wanting and waiting for this moment just as much as he had been. you savoured every second of it.

yet no amount of time could have felt long enough for the two of you. he could kiss you for 12 hours straight, and you’d still instantly miss the feeling of his lips on yours.

so when he pulled away, it left you hungry for more.

“don’t stop,” you quickly let out before immediately pulling him by the collar and bringing his lips to yours, so soft and sweet.

❤︎ ⎯ park SUNGHOON…

closed eyes, shared breaths and lips moving in sync against one another, you felt the delicacy of sunghoon’s fingertips brushing along the front of your jaw, finding their way to the back to cup the side of your head. this slow and soft movement shot shivers down every part of your body, causing your heartbeat to race faster than ever.

your back was pressed flush onto the wall of your room as sunghoon’s body was to yours before he pulled away ever so slightly to readjust and tilt his head in a way to get better access, returning just as quick as he was to leave.

the taste of coffee and creamy chocolate from the tiramisu you shared at the restaurant earlier lingered on his lips, and you were enjoying every bit of it.

mouths still moving with one another, you ran your hands up his chest, but your limbs grew weak with every kiss, your fingers barely gripping the fabric of his dress shirt hanging over his shoulders.

you felt his other hand pressed into your waist somehow gently firm, using his grip to pull you impossibly closer.

when he separated his lips from yours, eyes glued to your mouth, he whispered as you took his breath away—figuratively and literally—“you don’t understand how much i love you.”

“no?” you asked innocently.

all he did was stare at you in response, you wouldn’t be surprised if this was him zoning out, mind only occupied with having his lips back on yours.

you whispered, “then show me, hoon.”

and those four words were all it took for the switch inside of him to flick, and in an instant, his lips were back on yours, the way they were meant to be.

❤︎ ⎯ kim SUNOO…

“hey, let’s try this trend i found,” your boyfriend said as he approached you, who was conveniently already leaning against the wall. “put your hands together for a sec.”

“hm?” you hummed, confused, but proceeded to follow along anyways. you clasped your hands together. “like this?”

sunoo nodded, satisfied.

“now wha—”

leaving you no time to process, immediately, your own intertwined hands were lifted up above your head at the same time your boyfriend pressed his lips against yours in what was easily the hottest kiss he had given you yet.

but he pulled away sooner than you would’ve liked, separating from you far enough to put your hands gently back down, but unable to let one of your hands go from his.

you pouted. and suddenly reality came crashing onto you and your face grew warm.

“w-what was that for?” you asked, with a shy smile, your voice weak.

“i thought the trend would be fun to do with you.”

“are you saying it wasn’t what you expected?” you asked, disappointment laced in your voice.

he paused. “oh, it was beyond what i expected.”

“so you liked it?”

he didn’t answer, and just gave you a smirk in response instead.

“then do it again,” you said.

and without a moment to spare, he quickly dove in for another kiss, bringing his hand interlaced with yours back up beside your head, body leaning into yours to get impossibly closer.

silly trend.

❤︎ ⎯ yang JUNGWON…

“hi, baby,” jungwon said as he watched you walk through the door, returning home, “i missed you.”

you let out a small laugh. “it’s only been an hour.”

“an hour too long,” he added as he made his way to you, his arms open before you found your way into them, realizing how much you had been craving his embrace all day.

he pulled away slightly, causing you to look into his eyes filled with a glint of desire you had never seen before.

“w—” and before you could barely make out a sound, he had already brought his lips to yours in the softest kiss he had ever given you.

it was a long kiss that started out slow but quickly grew faster and harder—much more passionate and fiery than earlier. before you knew it, your back was against the wall, his body pressed against yours, hands tangled in each other’s hair.

but after a few seconds, he pulled back, hands dropping to your waist as he cleared his throat with a look of guilt overcoming his features. “sorry, i—”

“won—” you started, “don’t stop.”

his face washed over with relief and he smiled before taking your face into the palms of his hands and kissed you again.

❤︎ ⎯ nishimura RIKI…

“you liked that, didn’t you?” riki asked you teasingly, his forehead pressed against your own—funnily, kind of like how your back was to the wall at the moment.

your recollection of how you two got yourselves into this position was blurry. the countless kisses he had already given you left you in a trance. all you knew was that you craved for more.

his eyes followed his fingers as they brushed your jaw, leading their way to your chin, before his thumb brushed against your bottom lip.

you grew weaker with every touch of his skin to yours. why was he teasing you like this?!

“riki, just kiss me already.”

you would’ve said those words sooner if you had known that was all it would take for him to return his lips back to yours. in an instant, he was kissing you again, this time deeper and more passionate. it had a fire to it—or maybe that was the effect he had on you whenever he would treat you this way, causing a heat to rise and warm your face.

he rarely acted this way out in public—always feeling more comfortable showing you love alone in a more intimate matter.

but even so, rarely did it ever evolve into something like this: your body pushed against the wall of your home, his body pressed right into yours, missing your touch after a long and busy week for both of you.

but if it meant having to survive the toughest of days just to be with him, you’d live through them over and over again, because moments like this—time with him—made it all worth it.

with one last kiss, he pulled away ever so slightly, lips swollen and eyes in a daze as he whispered, nearly breathless, “we should do this more often.”

a/n. idk what’s up with my writing style lately but here you go :D hope you enjoyed :> i don’t write like this often so lmk what you think? :’>

m.list | taglist form

taglist. @seroriis @raimbows4u @beibybtch @sultrybaby @kpop-nct @ajayke-reads @wccycc @enhacolor @enhasfever @nokacchan @yizhoutv @xiaoderrrr @soobin-chois @tyunni @shinsou-rii @softkpopplace @belle643 @nar-nia @rapmonie2047 @pshchives @sunjakes @ethereal-engene @exohclipse @yeosayang @potato0579 @koishua @4ri-ki @sunoksunny @kookielover29 @jaeyunjakesim @whoschr @enaus @hoes4hoseok @1unxtic @palajae @clarakyunisageek @annoyingbitch83 @aeriil11 @wonswondrland @rcrystallocks @stepout-09-15 @zeraaax @enhasengene @pistachiophobia @loveforred@svnoofy @sweetjaemss @vatterie @majesticallymark @mnsnts

4K notes · View notes

astraystayyh · 3 months

Text

pieces of you

single dad!chan. x fem!reader

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

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

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

winter falls masterlist.

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

“Shh, daddy smile.”

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

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

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

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

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

“Your dad?”

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

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

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

She isn't shy because she feels protected.

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

He’s beautiful.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yn. And you?”

“Chris.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Touché.”

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

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

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

“You don’t know how to make them?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeah, sleep well, Chris.”

“Thank you,” he smiles before turning around.

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

One hour later

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

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

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

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

“You made them?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I…. I'll get going.”

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

“I'll see you around.”

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

ii.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“She insists on trying her makeup on me.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

☃︎⋆꙳•❅

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Will you watch a movie later with me?”

“Of course, baby.”

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

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

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

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

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

Your facade cracks. His voice wins.

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

iii.

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

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

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

“Just with salt?”

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

Chris knocks on the doors of your heart, once.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“The company.”

“I do find Sowon entertaining.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

One week later.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Sure. Sure,” he repeats, scurrying out of the room.

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

“Thank you,” you smile, as he kneels beside the bed, his hand resting on Sowon’s knee gently.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Will she be okay?”

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

“Okay, thank you.”

“Can we prepare her something to eat meanwhile?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You stay silent, bringing the water to a simmer.

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

Your tongue moves before you can order it to speak.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Why are you apologizing?”

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

Five days later.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Can I read what you wrote?”

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

May these words be the first to find your ears

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

I'll give you everything I have

I'll teach you everything I know

I promise I'll do better

I will soften every edge

I'll hold the world to its best

And I'll do better

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

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

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

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

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

“Talk to me?”

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

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

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

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

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

“You grew up well, Yn. You did well.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

connected.mp3 starts playing.

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

You wished to be the only one Chris liked.

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

So, you put on your best taunting smirk.

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

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

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

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

“I was thinking of a pretty girl.”

“Yeah?”

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

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

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

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

“Want me to sing to you, sweetheart?”

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

“Sleep well, Sowonnie,” you whisper.

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

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

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

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

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

iv.

You’re avoiding him.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I don't know, baby.”

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

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

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

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

“Finish your food first, okay Wonnie?”

“Okay!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And then you speak.

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

“Of course, always.”

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

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

He’s as scared as you are.

“Chris…”

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

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

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

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

“Okay.”

“Okay?”

“I'm staying.”

“You are?”

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

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

“Thank you for asking me to stay.”

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

“I missed you too.”

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

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

“What happened to connected Chris?”

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

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

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

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

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

“Good night, yn.”

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

you win.

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

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

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

bonus (one year later).

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

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

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

“Daddy, you are really bad at groceries.”

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

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

It's her first time calling you mom.

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

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

“What happened to being a stylist?”

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

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

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

He’ll propose to you tomorrow.

#skz x reader #skz x you #stray kids x reader #stray kids x you #stray kids angst #skz fluff #stray kids fluff #skz imagines #stray kids imagine #stray kids reactions #skz angst #skz fanfic #chan fluff #chan x reader #bang chan x reader #bang chan fluff #skz scenarios #stray kids scenarios #skz au

5K notes · View notes