Hiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii, could i request an angst long form fic (or if you want it can be short, whatever you feel more comfortable with) of choso x reader (or whatever other jjk man you would like), and we find that he has a new friend (a girl friend) and we had a very important date with him (anniversary or whatever) and we stay there, but that day it was freezing cold and he lefts us there to go to another place with his friend, and a lot lf angst, wheter the end is fluff or angst is up to you:DD
If you dont want to do it or you dont have time its okay:DDD
HERE U GO BABES !!! I'm finally back from the dead. This is nothing too nice tbh, I still feel like crap. Idek if this has a lot of angst TT
contains: angst, hurt w/ comfort, happy ending ofc(surprisingly)
You stood at the edge of the park, breath forming small clouds in the freezing air. The cold bit at your fingers, even through the gloves you’d worn, and your toes felt like ice inside your boots. You shifted your weight from foot to foot, glancing at your watch for the fifth time in the last ten minutes.
You told yourself it was fine. Choso wasn’t the type to forget something as important as today. He’d been the one to insist on this anniversary date, after all. “I want to do something special for us,” he’d said with that soft smile of his, the one that always made your chest feel warm.
But now, as the minutes stretched into an hour, that warmth was nowhere to be found.
Your phone buzzed in your pocket, and you fumbled to pull it out, hope flickering in your chest. Maybe he’d gotten stuck somewhere, or maybe something urgent had come up, and he’d explain everything once he got here.
But it wasn’t a call or an apology. It was a picture—a story he’d posted, a shot of him and her.
They were sitting in a cozy café, steam curling from the mugs in their hands. She was laughing at something, her smile wide and easy, while Choso leaned closer, his expression soft.
The caption read: Needed a break. This place has the best hot chocolate.
Your chest tightened as the image blurred in front of your eyes. You blinked hard, your breath hitching, and shoved your phone back into your pocket.
The cold seemed to sink deeper into your skin, and the weight of the realization hit you all at once: he wasn’t coming.
You stayed there for a while longer, convincing yourself he’d show up, that he’d remember, that this wasn’t what it looked like. But as the hours dragged on and the sun dipped below the horizon, the bitter cold became unbearable.
With trembling hands, you wrapped your coat tighter around yourself and turned to leave, tears stinging your eyes.
By the time Choso got home, it was late. He kicked off his shoes, the warmth of the café still lingering on his skin. He felt lighter, more relaxed after spending the afternoon unwinding.
But when he stepped into the living room and saw you curled up on the couch, wrapped in a blanket, something twisted in his chest.
“Hey,” he said, his voice cautious.
“...You’re still awake?” he tried again, walking closer.
“Barely,” you replied, your voice flat.
It took him a moment to notice the faint shiver in your frame or the redness around your eyes.
“Were you crying?” he asked, his brows furrowing as he crouched down in front of you.
That was the last straw. You sat up, the blanket falling from your shoulders, and glared at him. “Do you even remember what today was?”
Choso blinked, confusion flashing across his face. “What?”
“Our anniversary, Choso.”
His heart sank, realization hitting him like a punch to the gut.
You laughed bitterly, though the sound held no humor. “I waited for hours. In the freezing cold. And you—” Your voice cracked, and you shook your head. “You were with her.”
“No, don’t,” you snapped, standing abruptly. “Don’t you dare try to explain this away. I saw the picture. You looked like you were having a great time while I was standing there, hoping you’d show up.”
“I—” Choso struggled for words, his chest tight with guilt. “I didn’t mean to—”
“But you did,” you said, your voice trembling. “You made a choice, Choso. And it wasn’t me.”
Silence fell between you, heavy and suffocating.
“I’m sorry,” he finally whispered, his voice barely audible.
You let out a shaky breath, wiping at your eyes. “You always say that. But it doesn’t fix anything.”
Choso reached out, his hand hovering near yours, but he didn’t touch you. “I messed up. I know I did. And I’ll do whatever it takes to make it up to you.”
“You can’t just fix this with words,” you said quietly, stepping back. “I need time.”
Time passed, and true to his word, Choso worked to earn back your trust. He showed up—consistently and wholeheartedly. He didn’t shy away from the discomfort or the guilt, and he didn’t rush you to forgive him.
On what would’ve been just another cold winter evening, he surprised you.
The park was lit with soft, twinkling lights, the frost glittering like stars on the ground. Choso stood there, bundled in a thick coat, holding a thermos in one hand and a bouquet in the other.
“I know I can’t undo what I did,” he said when you approached. “But I want to make new memories. Better ones.”
You stared at him, your heart aching in your chest. He looked nervous—vulnerable in a way you rarely saw—but his sincerity was written all over his face.
“I’m still mad at you,” you admitted, though your voice was softer this time.
“I know,” he said, his lips quirking into a faint smile. “But I’m not going anywhere this time. Not until you’re ready.”
You took the thermos from his hand, feeling the warmth seep into your fingers. “You better not screw this up again.”
“I won’t,” he promised, his gaze steady.
And for the first time in what felt like forever, you believed him.