for reference (i used the y/n's nicknames so it doesn't get confusing - thanks to whoever suggested it): Hyunjin's girl - Love, Seungmin's girl -Cutie, Felix's girl -Darling, Innie's girl - princess, Jisung's girl - Baby, Chan's girl - Peach, Lino's girl - Kitten, Binnie's girl - Honey.
wc: 4.6k
a/n: I am so sorry if this is short but it's supposed to just be a little epilogue for the dollies. I know I took a long time to write it, but I haven't really felt like writing the last 5 months or so. Maybe I'll do something more for them in the future (like a little 'where are they now' or something like that, maybe even a visual novel game) but for now I want to leave it at this and work on my other series Hearts Collide. Thank you everyone who followed and read this series!💙
divider by: @bunnysrph
~ Dolly masterlist
Helena Meyer had always been a special child, even before she could fully understand the meaning of that word. All she knew is that she understood things and saw the world in a way her peers didn't. To them she was strange and amusing, but to her it was just the way the world was.
Fingers pointed and whispers filled her ears, wherever she went she was the weird girl. Helena didn't pay too much mind to it, she had bigger projects to tend to. Like skipping some years in school and getting into university at only 12 years old. Her intelligence and knowledge was rewarded but being on top was oh so lonely.
The kids her age were mostly carefree, they weren't even thinking about the concepts she knew like the back of her hand. The older ones saw her as a child and to them it was awkward to even talk to her. Her parents were supportive and they tried to understand but they were never able to fully grasp what Helena knew and what her vision was.
Helena didn't have any friends. So she decided to create them.
At just seventeen, she built her first advanced android. Its capabilities were limited, but it marked a significant step toward creating a sentient, human-like artificial intelligence. Driven by a desire to achieve what no one else had managed, Helena immersed herself in countless scientific fields and programming languages, each study bringing her closer to that first prototype.
But, before she managed to get there, she met her husband who fell in love with her at first conversation. His vision was similar but he was nowhere near close to Helena's knowledge and accomplishments. Still, he was more than ready to work alongside her and fulfill the vision she had since she was little. From then on, they became a team and the beginning of something completely new.
Helena Meyer became Helena Bang and moved to South Korea where she continued working with her husband and a small team of scientists and researchers with minds alike. For years they honed their calculations and refined their inventions, pushing the limits of what seemed possible, until they found the precise combination needed to bring her long-held vision to life.
Thus, the first prototype was born. Bang Chan.
"How are we doing today?" Helena walked into the office while Chan sat in the chair, fidgeting with the hem of his t-shirt. It was a new habit he developed and she quickly jotted it down.
"I'm doing fine, Mother." Chan answered quietly as Helena sat down and faced him. She observed him for a few moments before speaking up.
"You seem bothered by something. You know you can share everything with me." she encouraged him warmly to which Chan sighed, his eyes darting left and right before glancing up at Helena then looking back down at his lap again.
"I- I feel incomplete." he stated.
"Incomplete?" Helena tilted her head at him.
"Like something is missing. Every day I go through the same motions in the lab and there are things only I experience and I have no one to share that with." Chan explained as he looked up at her.
Helena's stomach twisted as she realized the extent to which her prototype developed feelings, his understanding and the way he was able to express his thoughts.
"You wish you had someone who was like you?"
"Yes. It's lonely being the only one." Chan confessed.
It's lonely being the only one.
Helena knew that feeling all to well.
As the project expanded, so did the team. The institute was opened and before long eight androids had been created. The lab was exchanged for a big mansion where they had their private rooms, a pool, a garden and anything else they could possibly need. It resembled a normal home but of course the androids weren't allowed to leave, Helena wanted to make sure they understood everything about the world before she let them roam free. Over time, each android developed a distinct personality and Helena watched them 'grow' alongside her husband. Everything was going well in the beginning but Helena and her husband had different visions of what the androids were meant to become.
Helena wanted them to integrate into society and grow into their own identities; she wanted people to see that the androids she created were friendly and capable of love, sadness, dreams just like them. But her husband saw something else entirely. To him, they were an opportunity to make money in the quickest and easiest way.
Their arguments became constant and their marriage began to unravel, breaking at the seams. The rest of the scientists except one, sided with Helena. Mr. Bang, however, found an ally in Dr. Park, a colleague whose cold, almost sinister demeanor made every android recoil the moment they learned they had a session with him.
Helena knew the moment her husband partenered up with Park, nothing good was gonna come out of it.
Jeongin stood in front of the familiar building that loomed above him threateningly. How did he remember where to go? He had no idea. But he got there somehow, his eyes roaming all over the concrete walls and the bars on the windows. A shiver ran down his spine, an uncomfortable itch clawing inside his stomach. His eyes moved up and he stopped in his tracks.
There in one of the reflections in the glass he saw his angel, tears running down his freckled cheeks as he stared out the window.
He had to get in.
He surveyed the area, noting the cameras positioned around the property and the guards patrolling with heavy weapons. Every door required a keycard, and the windows were secured with metal bars. With its top-tier security and no apparent entry point beyond the front door, the building looked practically impenetrable.
But Jeongin knew about a secret entrance, the one they used whenever they snuck out to the woods, chasing a brief, precious taste of freedom, even if it never lasted long. Seeing his angel and the familiar building brought many flashbacks of the past to Jeongin, and he couldn't move for a moment as he hid behind the bushes and contemplated on the best strategy to get to the hidden entrance.
He just hoped that the code for the secret door remained the same.
Meanwhile, Felix has had enough of crying, the sadness and heartbreak turning into anger. He wiped his eyes with his sleeves and walked away from the window, pacing up and down the small room. He considered banging on the door but he knew it would get him nowhere. If only he had something to pick the lock with.
Felix sighed and leaned his forehead against the door.
"Psst! Felix?" he heard a voice and perked up.
"Binnie?" he looked out the little glass panel on the door, seeing Changbin on the other side of the hallway, behind the door just like his.
"Did they take you away from your person too?" Changbin asked quietly, a kind of sadness settling over his features.
"Yes, they did." Felix nodded, his eyes brimming with tears again. "What do you think they'll do to us?"
"I don't know but I just hope they don't destroy us." Changbin shivered involuntarily.
"I think that would be the best option. The things that ran through my mind... What if they locked us inside our own head again? But this time with no way out. Or they experimented on us more, keeping us here forever? I can't go through that again." Felix shook his head quickly.
"No, I don't even wanna think about those scenarios." Changbin gasped. "We have to get out of here."
"How? We're locked inside these rooms and there are cameras everywhere." Felix leaned his forehead on the glass, fogging it up with his warm breath.
"Let's come up with something together. I don't want to be a sitting duck."
"Me neither." Felix nodded, his eyes darting left and right before they widened. "I have an idea!"
"What is it?" Changbin asked, pressing his body harder against the door.
"We have to act like we're malfunctioning and that will alert the evil androids. They will come get us and when they open the door we will run."
"Run where, Felix? They won't let us get away just like that." Changbin sighed desperately.
"What other choice do we have? The windows have bars and the door doesn't even have a handle on the inside. And I don't think we can overpower the androids, they always carry those big scary needles with them." Felix shivered in fear. "We have to try."
"What if they catch us and do something even worse to us to punish us?"
Of course, that thought had already crossed Felix's mind.
"We will run so fast they won't be able to keep up. Just don't ever let go of my hand, okay?"
Changbin gave Felix a small smile and then nodded in determination.
"Okay. Let's do this!"
~
As Jisung was ushered into the building, the memories hit him all at once. The smells, the sounds, the bleak fluorescent lighting; it brought him back to a dark place and his breath got caught in his throat. A crushing weight settled on his chest the moment he inhaled that familiar blend of metallic coldness and disinfectant. The sounds of whirring machinery, sharp beeps and the background noise of the fluorescent lights humming was eerie, as if hinting at something sinister within the building.
The androids held Jisung's arms tightly as they practically dragged him off to the main office. When the big wooden door creaked open, Dr. Park swiveled in his leather chair with a disgusting smirk formed on his face.
"Well, well. If it isn't number five willingly coming here. Missed me?"
Jisung practically hissed at the doctor, the androids holding him back. Park lifted up his hand and the robots backed off, while Jisung seethed with anger.
"I'm glad you're conscious enough to listen. It was a mistake; letting you out with a weak code. I must confess I was too greedy and eager to get you all out into the market. But, now I know how to correct the mistakes." Park smirked and Jisung shivered, holding back when he remembered his mission. He had to act compliant. He knew his Baby had his back, along with Chan and his Peach.
"Everything you are and everything you've known until now, will be erased. A sort of factory reset. Whatever Helena did to give you free will and feelings will be gone. You'll be sort of like my androids here except better, you will understand more things so you can obey your masters better." Park kept smirking. "I'll leave a little piece of who you used to be buried somewhere inside you, just so you're aware of what you could have but know you can never get there again." his smirk turned into a full-blown evil smile. "And I? I will become filthy rich and famous thanks to you. So look at it as sort of a sacrifice for the greater good." The doctor waved his hand.
Jisung felt his entire body stiffen, a shiver of pure fear running down his spine. To say he was terrified was an understatement. In that moment he thought that death would definitely be a better option than existing like that. But beneath the fear, lingered anger and despair. He knew he couldn't let that happen.
"We will begin with the reset once we gather all your friends, number five. I'll make sure you look at each other the moment everything starts erasing." Park let out an evil laugh as the androids started dragging Jisung out of the office.
Jeongin pressed his body against the earth as much as he could. His eyes darted left and right as he analyzed the guards' movements. After assessing their route, he waited for the guard to walk away in the other direction before he slowly crawled between the tall grass and bushes near the fence. His movements were slow and careful and his face was scrunched up from both nervousness and disgust.
Slowly but steadily, Jeongin made it half way there before the guard turned and walked over towards him. Fear settled in his bones and his body went still, his breathing becoming shallow. He could hear heartbeat pounding in his ears. Squeezing his eyes shut, he stayed perfectly still. But the guard never came to the grass that hid him, only did his route quietly before turning away and leaving. Jeongin let out a quiet breath of relief before continuing on his mission.
Finally, he managed to get to the back door and after looking around for a camera he spotted one near the door.
"Fuck." he cursed quietly to himself.
But when he took a better look, it seemed that the camera wasn't blinking at all. He stared at it for a moment and then decided to risk it; there was no way he was waiting anymore. This was the moment.
Jeongin rose and slipped quietly toward the door, pressing his back against the wall at the last possible moment as the returning guard passed by unnoticed. He lingered there for a moment, steadying himself, then dusted off his clothes lightly before moving toward the door.
"Please, be the same code." Jeongin closed his eyes and manifested before pressing the numbers he knew all to well into the keypad.
There was a quiet beep of acceptance and the lock clicked, the door opening up just a little.
"Oh my god." he almost laughed out loud but then he remembered he needed to be quiet so he slipped inside.
~
"Are you sure you want to do that?" Changbin asked Felix quietly, almost backing out of their plan.
"I don't think there is any other way to get their attention." Felix was determined.
"Fine." Changbin sighed. "Let's do it."
With that, Changbin started banging his fist on the door accompanied with Felix banging his head against his own.
In his office, doctor Park leaned towards his computer.
"What the hell are they doing?! Stop them! I don't want my goods damaged."
The two androids that stood there turned robotically and then started running quickly.
Jisung saw them whiz past as he was being dragged and he turned his head only for a gasp of shock to leave his lips.
There, behind one of the tables was Jeongin, crouched down and staring at him with an equally shocked expression on his face. Jeongin lifted his finger to his lips and let out a quiet 'shh' before Jisung was dragged further away. He only hoped that his Baby and the rest of the gang were on the way or close to the company, he just wanted this nightmare to be over as soon as possible.
The androids reached the rooms and quickly unlocked them. Felix felt a moment of disorientation, but Changbin acted fast; sliding under a guard's arm, seizing Felix’s wrist, and practically dragging him along. Felix stumbled, then fell into step beside Changbin, their fingers intertwining and their palms pressing together tightly. The androids gave chase immediately, and as Felix and Changbin burst out, they collided with Jisung, sending him and the two guards tumbling to the ground.
"Jisung!" Felix gasped and grabbed him too. The androids were close to them, right at their necks, reaching out towards them with the big needles full of a fluorescent looking fluid.
~
"Did you get it to work?" Seungmin asked as he leaned closer to the console of the car.
"I'm almost there! I'm about to hack into the camera system on the inside. Jisung is sending out some kind of stress signals. I can read it from his code. Something is definitely happening. Y'all need to hurry the fuck up." Baby spoke over the speaker.
"We are driving as fast as we can. You notified the others?" Chan asked, his eyes never leaving the road.
"Yes, I found all the other dolly girls. They will try to meet us there. Seems like Changbin's girl already knew the location. Talk about faith or what?" Baby snickered. "Yes! I'm in! They're going down now. I'm turning off the cameras and the power. Y'all be ready for darkness."
~
Jisung didn't have much time to react, almost tripping over his own feet as he grabbed at Felix's hand. Changbin led them towards the front door fast but they were stopped in their tracks by two more androids approaching them from the front. Cornered, the three huddled together, searching desperately for any possible escape route.
Before the androids could lunge at them, the lights suddenly went out and they could hear a heavy dying groan as all the machinery shutdown. What followed was a moment of dead silence, then the sharp whirr of night-vision systems humming to life cut through the dark.
"Shit." Changbin muttered as it hit him; the androids could see perfectly in the dark, giving them the upper hand. Felix felt Jisung's hand tremble in his so he squeezed it, feeling equally as terrified. Was this it? All their effort to run away from their rooms just to be taken right back?
A sudden thud cracked through the dark. One of the androids jerked forward, its head snapping to the side before dropping to its knees. Jeongin stood behind it, panting and gripping a heavy wrench like his life depended on it. The pale moonlight lit up the hallway just enough to make the dollies see what was in front of them.
"Move!" he yelled out as the other two androids started making their way towards them.
The others didn't hesitate. Changbin charged at the second android, slamming into it with enough force to knock it back into the wall. The robot let out another whirring sound as its head hit the concrete. Felix pulled Jisung close as they noticed the two other androids approaching them, ready to charge at them. Jeongin didn't wait for them to strike at his friends and he lunged forward, fighting one of the guards. Changbin joined him, making Felix and Jisung react too. Fear fueled their movements, desperation sharpening every hit.
Another pair of androids appeared in front of them, eyes glowing in the darkness right as they managed to fight off the first ones. Jeongin was on a roll, using his wrench again to strike one of the androids as it reached towards Felix to grab him. The android struck the ground with a metallic sound echoing the roomo, sparks flying from its cracked skull. But the second one stepped forward without hesitation, its eyes glowing red, head tilting as if it was calculating where to hit first; all while being terrifyingly calm.
Jisung's heartbeat hammered against his ribs, Felix's shaking grip on his hand was the only thing grounding him. Changbin stood before them, ready to throw his entire body into the android if he had to.
The machine raised its arm and then suddenly, a thunderous crash split through the hallway, like the walls themselves were breaking. Before any of the dollies could register anything, the front door slammed hard against the wall and the emergency lights snapped on in blinding white stripes that cut through the darkness.
The android about to strike was thrown across the hallway and smashed into a metal cabinet so hard that the impact rang through the entire first floor. Jisung flinched back and Felix gasped, before they heard a familiar voice.
"Come on, let's go!" it was Chan.
He charged in, fury burning inside his eyes. Behind him, Seungmin and Hyunjin were like shadows in motion, moving in a way that made them look almost eerie. More androids started appearing, closing in on the dollies, ready to take them down even if it came to damaging them, it was clear that they wouldn't stop. The dollies took a stance against the androids, right as Peach and Love stumbled into the hallway, both pale and breathless, eyes big as they took in the chaos before them.
"Chan, oh my god!" Peach yelled out, clinging onto his arm.
"Hyunjin!" Love joined in, her hand reaching out for Hyunjin. He gave her a quick grin, far too confident for the situation. The androids didn't hesitate anymore, it was as if they moved on command when they attacked. Hyunjin ducked under the android's blow with effortless grace, making Love gasp in panic.
Peach grabbed a fire extinguisher and joined in on the fight as everyone gave their efforts into it.
For a split second, Jisung felt hope. It punched into his chest so suddenly that it almost took his breath away. They could win this together.
Baby worked on her end, behind the computer, her nimble fingers rushing across the keyboard as she tried to hack into the main computer. Doctor Park seemed to have known she was trying to get in, so he kept trying to lock her out.
"Hold on, please." she prayed to herself as she looked at her other screen where the camera feed she left on showed her Jisung and the other dollies fighting for their lives.
Suddenly, the air in the room changed. An iciness seeped between everyone, suffocating and freezing, like a predator stepped into the open after watching from the dark.
Dr. Park walked forward with slow, deliberate purpose. His eyes glinted with something worse than anger and hatred - ownership.
In his hand, he held a sleek black device pulsing with faint red light. When he spoke, it sounded almost gentle. "Enough."
He lowered his thumb on the button and a piercing frequency exploded through the air, so sharp and violent it made the dollies convulse and fall to their knees, their hands flying to their heads and their systems screaming in protest.
But the one closest to Park took the full blast and it just happened to be Hyunjin. A scream tore out of his body, raw and agonized and his legs gave out, making him fall on the floor with a thud. Sparks burts across his neck, lighting his skin with frantic flickers.
"Hyunjin!" Love shrieked, bolting towards him.
He collapsed before anyone could catch him but Love dove in and caught his torso, pulling him into her arms. Hyunjin's limbs jerked violently, his eyes fluttering and his mouth open in a silent, painful gasp.
"Stay with me, Hyunjin. Please..." Love begged, her voice cracking as tears streamed down her cheeks.
Chan tried to push forward to help but Park pressed another button.
The dollies staggered, their systems glitching wildly. Changbin slumped against the wall, Seungmin dropped to one knee, Jeongin's hands trembled uncontrollably and Felix's eyes rolled back. The override frequency echoed through the air like an eerie screech.
Dr. Park raised the device again and this time, he aimed it directly at Jisung.
"Rebellion is a defect." his voice was cold and collected as his thumb hovered over the button. Jisung screwed his eyes shut, waiting for the impact to hit him but it never came. The signal was cut out of nowhere. The lights above them flickered to life, illuminating the room and for a heartbeat absolutely nothing happened.
No movement, no sound. Then, every android that was ready to attack and pounce froze in place. Their eyes flashed from red to an electric blue and all their heads suddenly turned towards Dr. Park.
Baby's voice burst through the intercom, breathless and exhilarated.
"Jisung! I did it, I hacked them! They're on your side now."
Park's face twisted in genuine fear for the first time.
"Oh no, no, no!" he sounded panicked as he scrambled over to a console, fingers flying over the screen, desperate to regain control.
Several of the hacked androids took synchronized, unnervingly smooth steps towards him. Park hit another command and a pulse of energy surged forward making half of the androids power down and crash to the floor like lifeless puppets.
Park snarled in fury as the other androids didn't waver, still making their way towards him. The room descended into chaos again as sparks started flying from the androids who dropped down and afraid of an explosion, Chan tried to shield Peach with his entire body. Seungmin scrambled over to Changbin, trying to shake him awake. Felix gathered all his courage and shielded Jisung with trembling arms. Jeongin fought through his glitching hands, trying to will himself to stop the glitch.
Hyunjin remained limp in Love's kap, sparks slowly dying but still flickering only a little.
Everything seemed to be on the way to a disaster until a new sound cut through all the chaos. It was a soft, almost imperceptible click right behind Dr. Park.
Slowly, so slowly that it was agonizing, he turned his head and met two cold pairs of eyes. A hand rested on his shoulder.
Elegant but firm, it almost seemed too calm. Lino stood right behind him, Kitten by his side as she gave the doctor a little smirk of victory.
"You have done enough harm." Lino's voice was smooth and quiet.
Park raised his hand to use the overriding device but Lino moved as fast as light.
In a blur, he struck Park's wrist with a snap, sending the device skittering across the floor. Then he shoved Park forward, straight into the hacked androids waiting to rip him to pieces.
Park screamed, an ugly and raw sound as the metal hands seized him.
Lino turned away, him and Kitten already running to Hyunjin's side.
Love looked up at them, trembling.
"Is he d-dying?" her voice shook.
"He's overloaded but we can stabilize him." Lino looked at Chan and they both nodded to each other before Chan kneeled right next to him. The two of them placed their hands on Hyunjin's chest and somehow made the flickering steady. Hyunjin's breathing began to regulate. Love cried out, her hands grabbing at Hyunjin's face as his eyes flickered open to look at her. At the same time, Seungmin managed to wake up Changbin and even though he was disoriented, his hands found Jeongin's, holding them and calming the glitch down.
It was as if some kind of magic worked between them.
Jisung stared at Lino, chest tight with shock and relief.
"I didn't think you'd make it here. We had no idea where you were."
"Your Baby found us in the last moment, we made it just in time." Lino answered, his eyes shining.
The room finally became quiet. The battle was over.
As the dollies finally walked out of the facility, battered but well, a car parked in front of the entrance. They froze for a moment before Honey stepped out of the driver's seat, making Changbin gasp and yell out in happiness. More doors opened and suddenly everyone was there; Cutie, Princess and Darling making their way towards their dollies.
"Don't you ever run away like that again!" Cutie smacked Seungmin's chest as tears welled up in her eyes.
"I could say the same." Princess agreed as she collapsed into Jeongin's arms.
"Darling!" Felix held on tightly, the emotional reunion making everyone cry.
Jisung looked around, his heart beating fast before he saw another car park next to the first one and he recognized it instantly. All the exhaustion and pain was forgotten as he ran towards Baby, lifting her up and spinning her around before they both tumbled to the ground, laughing through their tears.
Princess smiled and addressed everyone. "My father has agreed to help us all with the legal stuff. You guys carry Helena's legacy, we'll sue her husband and also make sure the Dolly blueprints never end up in wrong hands."
Everyone cheered as she announced that, their hearts were full as they knew they had each other now.
It was the ending of something but it also felt like a beautiful beginning of something new.
helloo. how are you guys? i wasn’t really sure if i should come back or not but i couldn’t stay away. i feel like i’ve become too attached to this blog.. it’s kind of sad. lol i made this blog over a year ago and at first it really was fun, interacting with other blogs, getting asks, people’s feedback and sometimes criticism (kind & mean :3) but honestly speaking, this blog started out as a fun, distracting hobby.. to get my mind off of my real life issues but lately, it's felt more like a job than something i enjoy doing in my free time. with everything else going on in my life, it just felt overwhelming, and i almost deleted everything. while i clearly didn’t delete this blog, what i did do while i was away was i deleted some fics that i wasn't happy with anymore, so i apologize if any of your favorites disappeared.
with that being said i am planning on coming back, updates will be wayy less frequent, though, so please bear with me. i’m juggling work and school, so life is pretty hectic. thanks for sticking around, and i’ll try to post something soon. i read all your sweet messages, thank you for that. <3 love ya.
IM SOOO HAPPY YOURE BACKK !! AND IM SO GLAD YOURE FEELKIGN BETTER BABBEEE !!!!!
i soo get it that life gets hectic since im ALSO juggling school, work, and writing (which i swear im gonna get to soon) along with going on an indefinite hiatus myself, its always the best to put yourself first rather than pushing yourself past your limit.
im super glad you took a break for yourself ! always put yourself first and know that we will always be here to support you no matter what you decide to do. <3
Tags : Mostly fluff, kinda crack?? no clue, reader has two beautiful boyfriends im jelly, uhhh kinda dunno how to tag this someone help. NOT PROOFREAD
Summary : Over smeared lipstick and the rather inappropriate names of makeup shades, love will always seep into the cracks of your chapped lips.
Author's Note : HEY HEY GUESS WHO'S MAYBE BACK !! got back into the groove of writing again and i got an enlightenment when i saw that one clip of minsung doing the lipstick challenge on bumper cars and i had to share with the internet. sigh if i were able to id def want minsung as my boyfriends id be enternaly happy if i could do that. that is my dying wish before i pass. anyways enjoy this snippet :3 !! not finished and i might disappear after this again because life happens and it sucks but like eat it up ! sorry for starving you all i love you all mwah !!
“Do you think this color would suit me, hyung?”
Han sat cross-legged on the floor of your shared bathroom, the bright afternoon sun filtering through the blinds on the windows. He was holding one of your lipsticks in between his fingers, and the universe thought it’d be funny for it to be one of your absolute favorites. It was a deep, rosy shade that you always wore whenever your favorite boys would treat you to dinner or you had an important event, or maybe if you felt like treating yourself you’d just wear it to feel pretty going out. Lee know gave him a fleeting glance before taking it upon himself to continue sorting out the different toiletries and miscellaneous items from under the bathroom sink.
“I don’t know, you’ve already got that natural kissable thing going on,” Lee know cooed at Han teasingly.
Han sported a bashful look at Lee know’s rallying, grinning despite himself. “Flattery will get you everywhere, hyung, now sit still real quick.” He turned towards Lee know, moving to sit on his knees. Han tenderly grabbed Lee know’s chin, turning his head to look at him. He held the open lipstick up and started to attempt lining Lee know’s lips, the deep shade smudging.
“Yah! Han Jisung!!” Lee know yowled and swatted at Han, only making the lipstick even messier.
“What!? It’s art!!” Jisung retaliated, sitting back to stare at the mess that was now made of Lee know’s lips. Though both you and Han would argue that it made him prettier. “You look stunning!! Like… uhm.. Bold! And.. mysterious! Effortlessly chic!” Jisung squawked, trying to justify himself to his now bothered hyung.
Lee know just rolled his eyes at Han, a coy smile starting to dance on his face. “Oh yeah? Let’s see how chic you look with it on!-” Lee know pounced onto Han as he tried to scuttle away, wide-eyed and nervously laughing. Snatching the lipstick Lee know messily lined his lips arguably worse than Han did his.
“Hey! Not fair!-” Han barked out with laughter.
“Fairness doesn’t exist in war!” Lee know roared, chuckles bubbling up his chest.
Cackling and rolling on the floor they had gone back and forth stealing the lipstick and smudging it across their lips, most of the time entirely missing their lips and getting it on their cheeks.
Caught up in their antics, they failed to hear the front door open.
You heard the banter from across the house, taking it for the normal noise that seemed to surround the three of you on a daily basis. You sighed to yourself, rolling your eyes as a knowing smile curled at the ends of your lips. You made your way from the kitchen to your bedroom in a couple strides, opening the door to see Lee know and Han mid-wrestle with your favorite lipstick. You froze, a grocery bag in one hand and your other hand on the doorknob.
Lee know was straddling Han on the floor, both of their lips and cheeks covered in lipstick, staring at you like ridiculous deer in headlights.
You just gawked at them, smeared lipstick coating their faces. You immediately put the grocery bag down, rushing to pick up the unattended stick on the floor, wincing when you twisted it up and it was bent and deformed. You pouted at them, looking up to stare at them on the floor in front of you.
“You were supposed to be cleaning!!- And this was my favorite lipstick!” You frowned at the pair, still frozen in their places in front of you. You looked back down at the lipstick in your hands as they cradled the now ruined stick like it was a living being. “This was really expensive too!” You whined as you internally groveled at your now ruined lipstick.
Lee know and Han finally snapped out their playful stupor, both now realizing you had caught them with equal horror. Jisung was the first attempt to speak up, sputtering and trying to sit up but being stopped by Lee know who still sat on top of him, keeping him effectively on the ground.
Lee know looked genuinely guilty from where he sat on Han, knowing how much you adored and cherished your makeup. Especially that lipstick now that he recognized the shade. He internally winced as he watched you observe the warped stick in your hands.
“Sorry yeobo.. We got a little distracted,” Lee know muttered, sheepishly rubbing the back of his neck.
You just sat and pouted, eyes glued to the stick. As soon as you realized it was your favorite shade, you didn’t bother to bat an eye at the two boys roughhousing on the ground of the bedroom. Your eyebrows sat furrowed with your lips pulled into a taut sulk that always settled on your face when you had something that you were upset about.
Han had finally managed to squirm out from under Lee know, sitting up and scooting towards you with big, pleading eyes, reaching out tentatively to poke at your cheek. “Jagiyaaa..” he whined out, drawing out the last vowel dramatically, “don’t be upset~ We were just.. Being dumb– wait no– artistic! It was an artistic experiment!!”
Lee know scoffed from behind him, “yeah, experiment in ‘how fast we can get in trouble.’” Lee know deadpanned before crawling forward to rest his chin on Jisung’s shoulder so he could peer up at you with faux innocence. “But look how pretty it made us! See? Worth it?” He pointed at the streaks of lipstick still smeared on their faces for emphasis.
You just huffed at them, still hung up on the one lipstick you has personally made an emotional attachment with. You looked up at them through your lashes from where you were hunched on the floor, using that one look you scarcely used to come out of a situation with a pampering session.
Lee know and Han gulped simultaneously as you looked up at them with an infamous pout, knowing they were done for. That one look had them wrapped around your finger in seconds. “Babee– please.. We really are sorry~ We can make it up to you.. Please stop making that face.. Pleaaassee~” Jisung pleaded, looking at you with his boba eyes.
Lee know nudged Han with his elbow, whisper yelling at him, “Yah! Don’t just apologize– do something!!”
Han’s eyes widened in panic before lunging towards you to wrap around your waist like a toddler, burying his face into your stomach. “And– uhm– we’ll buy you THREE new lipsticks! No– FIVE!! And we’ll do the cleaning if you want!! And cook for a week!! And–”
Lee know cut him off, grabbing your hand and pressing an exaggerated kiss to your knuckles, transferring lipstick onto the back of your hand, batting his eyelashes at you. “And we’ll be your personal eye candy while you test all the new colors. Do we have a deal yeobo?” He mused at you, the both of them staring at you with puppy-dog eyes.
As much as you tried to keep up the sulky kicked puppy look, a suppressed smile crept onto your face as you looked down at Han who was currently nuzzling into your stomach apologetically as Lee know ghosted kisses along your knuckles and up the back of your hands in apology. The both of them visibly relaxing when they caught glimpses of your smile, Han peering up at you with eager, hopeful eyes. Though still clinging to you like an overdramatic koala.
Lee know lazily grinned as he continued to shower your knuckles with feather-light kisses, glancing up at you in a silent plea for forgiveness. Not being able to help himself to see you as cute with your attachment to that particular lipstick.
You let out a dramatic sigh, letting up your sulk. “Fiiine– but I want those lipstick shades, and you both are being my personal swatched as per Lee know’s words! No take backsies!!” You scolded with no real bite or malice in your words, a smile spreading on your face.
Extra author's note : THANKS FOR REASDING !! lowkey putting my entire heart and soul into my writing rn and it is currently almost 4 am rn.... ANYWAYS i hope you enjoyed and that you find me amusing bc going insane at my computer normally brings joy to my friends and family. but setting that aside, please leave lots of love and reblogs so i know whether or not i should continue writing this !! kisses !! love you all !!!
Divider creds : @cursed-carmine
Taglist : @jeonginsleftcheek @astudyoftimeywimeystuff @stxary @skzfflovers @moonchild9350 @mountains-on-mountains @jisungml @viaxslz (ask to be added or taken off !! moots who's blog are up and running are automatically on here bc i love my mooties sm)
hello. i’ve decided that i will be going on hiatus indefinitely. i know a lot of people are waiting on ashes under the hood and other updates but those will be put on pause for the time being. i don’t know if i will be back in a few weeks, next month or at all. thank you for understanding and for the support since i opened this blog.
Im so excited for the part 3 of ashes under the hood! I read all part last night and i cant wait to read the last part huhuhu im rooting so much for jisung!
hehe everyone’s rooting for jisung :,)
i don’t want to keep everyone waiting & wondering so i’ll just say part 3 will be posted before next sunday since it’s halfway done. 😆
˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ summary: when the international crimes task force (ICTF) finally gets a lead on a case they’ve been chasing for years, there’s no room for error. they need their best agents. unfortunately, that means you’re being sent on an extended undercover mission with agent jisung han, deep in small-town america, to play the part of his loving, devoted wife.
which wouldn't be so bad. if you didn't hate his guts.
˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ pairing: han jisung x she/her reader
˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ chapter word count: 5.1k words
˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ chapter warnings: non graphic mentions of trafficking (reader discussing a case)
˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ tags: spy au, exes to lovers, forced proximity, fake dating/fake marriage, sharing a bed, mutual pining in denial, slow burn, eventual smut, found family, miscommunication/misunderstandings
˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ author’s note: not edited (because when do i ever), if you find typos pretend you didn't. enjoy!
“Aw man.”
Felix sighs, tiny lips pouting as he watches the coffee disappear down the drain of the break room sink. Steam billows up from the swirling black pool in the center of the metal square. “That was definitely still hot. Why'd you dump it?”
“It was bad,” you murmur. The excuse is flimsy. You reach for a new filter and the bag of grounds. “Saw a fly go into it.”
In the haste of your movements, your hand brushes against the sole mug in the break room's dish drainer, and you pull back as if you’ve been burned. If you were anyone else, in any other profession, you would take the mug and smash it against the ground, but you are not just anyone. You are a highly trained field operative employed at the highest office of the International Crime Task Force. You choose to close your eyes in an attempt to ground yourself.
“Wait, seriously? A fly? In here? Agent Park is going to lose his mind. Did you get the disinfectant?”
Felix is usually a very loving and perceptive person. These are the qualities that make him an incredible tech officer and handler. But maybe that honor is reserved for after he's been properly caffeinated. You count to three before opening your eyes, watching his newly bleached head of blonde hair squeeze past you to look under the sink for the disinfectant. A sigh passes your lips.
“Felix.”
“I'm serious.” His voice is obscured by the thick wood of the cabinet doors. “Have you seen Seongwha clean this place? A fly would be a personal disrespect to him. We have to wipe down the counters before he comes in.”
“Felix.”
The urgency in your voice cuts through the early morning stupidity that seems to have afflicted your best friend’s brain. He pulls back, just a bit, disinfectant and wipes in hand. You look down at him with a stare that could level a city.
“There was no fly.”
“Oh.”
He seems almost disappointed to put down the disinfectant. You watch as the resignation on his face slowly gives way to confusion. He opens his mouth, likely to ask again why you’d dump perfectly good coffee out, but then his eyes trail up, up to the sink, up to the dish drainer, and he sees the sole mug in there. The imperfect, stout, navy blue mug with cream stars and a chip on the handle in the shape of a J.
Understanding crosses his face. His eyes widen just a fraction, his grip loosening around the can of expensive disinfectant.
“Oh. Agent Han made the coffee.”
It’s not so much a question, moreso a confirmation of what he's seeing. Everyone knows that mug, and the owner of the mug, and as trauma-bonded as the agents at ICTF are, you all are not in the habit of sharing mugs. Seeing that mug above a pot of freshly made coffee can only mean one thing.
You let your professional mask slip back into place and nod once, sharp and final, turning back to the coffee maker. The machine whirrs to life as you press the brew button with more force than necessary. Felix rises from his crouch by the cabinet, setting the disinfectant back under the sink with careful, measured movements. He knows better than to barrel into things. It's one of the reasons you love him.
"He's… early," he says after a moment, voice pitched low. He's moved to stand beside you, shoulder brushing yours in silent support. “Usually it's just us and Bang here now.”
The methodic drip of the coffee into the pot is the sole focus of your attention. “I don't see how that concerns me.”
“Right,” he murmurs. He drums his fingers on the counter, looking around the room. “But…that's… I mean, you know him. That's not like Han.”
Unfortunately, Felix is correct in the fact that you know Jisung better than anyone else in the agency. He would rather drink a jean jacket through a paper straw than get to work before 9am. Judging from the barely-there pink glow that’s begun to dust the streets, you know that it is certainly not 9am.
The clock on the wall ticks away before the minute hand firmly lodges into its place, delivering 7 distinct chimes.
Jisung Han is at work, and has been at work, since 7am.
Felix is staring at the mug again.
You can see it in your peripheral vision, the way his eyes keep drifting back to it, like he's trying to solve a particularly complicated equation. The coffee maker sputters its final drops into the pot with an almost deeply relieved sigh, and you gather the materials to pour yourself a cup with mechanical precision. You try not to look too closely at your mug when you pull it out of the cabinet: a round, stout, dreamy cream colored thing dotted with navy stars.
Felix makes a noise akin to a frightened kitten.
I really should switch to the one they handed out at orientation, you think, pouring coffee into your mug and loading the whole thing with far too much sugar and creamer.
"Maybe he couldn't sleep," Felix offers. Finding answers has always been his thing. “Or maybe Bang is sending him on a mission that requires early briefing.”
“Does it even matter?” You punctuate your question with a sip of your coffee. It’s disgustingly sweet. You swallow it anyway, needing to put space between yourself and this situation, at least metaphorically. “Hopefully his mug is the only bit of him I’m forced to see today. I’m going to sit.”
Felix looks like he wants to say more, like he wants to comb through every reasonable and unreasonable scenario about why on earth Jisung Han would be here, at work, before the sun has even come up. But the haze of early morning stupidity has left his brain, and he’s paying more attention now, really noticing the tension in your shoulders, the stifled way you walk to your favorite table, and he just lets out a long, deep exhale. You’ve told him before that you’ll talk about what happened when you’re ready, and he has to trust that, so he just nods, following you with his own cup of appropriately made coffee.
The situation is upsetting, but you’re not upset with Felix. Four months ago, before things went wrong, you’d be curious just like him– maybe even more so. The sight of that stupid blue mug would’ve sent a jolt of excitement down your spine and you would’ve taken it, filled it with coffee made in the exact way that you know Jisung likes it, and headed out into the maze of corridors in the building to find him. You would’ve been excited to see him, actually, so excited to spend extra time with him before the work day got busy.
But that was before the excited butterflies turned to wasps. Before the quiet implosion of your universe. Before you ripped him out of your life and used duct tape to close that Jisung-shaped hole. Before…
Before Stockholm.
It’s better this way, you remind yourself, shaking your head to dislodge the thoughts. You slip your agency assigned tablet out of your crossbody bag and begin looking through briefings and emails. Routine is safe. There is no more Jisung here. Just Agent Han.
Thankfully, the rest of the early morning passes easily. You and Felix have developed a system over the years where your early mornings in the break room become a space for coffee and contemplation. If you talk, it's minimal, more content to exist in each other's space.
Slowly but surely, the building starts showing its first signs of life. A few agents from other divisions trickle in and out, varying in their levels of consciousness and enthusiasm. Your division, the Crimes Against Persons Unit, is the smallest, and has a penchant for not getting things rolling until closer to 8am.
Felix looks up when the breakroom door opens at 7:47am, the neutrality on his face easing into a grin. “Damn, Hwang, you look terrible.”
You glance up. Hyunjin could never look terrible, not by any normal human standards. He has the type of face that’s been sculpted from renaissance paintings and a slender, lengthy body to match. As if his face wasn’t devastating enough, he’s all charm and a knee-buckling smile with a jet black buzzcut that was office gossip for weeks. He does look exhausted though, and you watch with amusement as he flips Felix off without speaking, making a direct B-Line to the coffee machine.
“How was Anchorage?”
“Cold,” Hyunjin murmurs. “And we stayed at a Holiday Inn. Which meant four days straight of Changbin singing that stupid Pitbull song on repeat.”
You quirk an eyebrow up. “Hotel Room?”
On cue, Agent Changbin Seo walks into the breakroom with a particular pep in his step you wouldn’t expect to see from someone who spent four sleepless days doing surveillance in subzero Alaskan temperatures. And, true to Hyunjin’s word–
“We at the hotel, motel, Holiday Inn–”
Hyunjin thunks his head against the upper cabinets with so much force that they rattle. “Make it stop, please.”
Changbin is all smiles, his wispy black hair falling over itself and into his eyes as he slides into an empty seat at your table. His muscular form fills out his button up and slacks, but anyone who has spent any time with him knows he’s truly the biggest softie ever. His shoulder nudges yours in greeting and you return his smile, easy and genuine.
“Did you guys miss us?” He steals a grape out of Felix’s breakfast container. “Four whole days without the two most handsome agents must’ve been difficult. I’m surprised the building is still standing.”
The blonde quirks his lips into a half smirk. “I wasn’t aware Hyunjin and Minho were the ones away?”
Hyunjin snorts, pulling his mug from the same cabinet that he just tried to put his head through. That is where everyone’s mugs go at the end of the day, an efficient system orchestrated by people who spend more time at work than they do at home. You catch when his eyes land on the only other mug that’s not in its proper place. A mug that usually doesn’t make an appearance until well after 9am. His eyebrows furrow, slender fingers picking up the cup and turning it around to inspect it.
“Hey, isn’t this–”
“Good morning team!”
Relief crashes through you when he’s interrupted. Your small group looks towards the door where Jeongin, in the final stretch of his Cadet program, is struggling to fit through the doors with the boxes of bagels and donuts in his hands. He manages eventually, looking as excited about life as one would expect from someone who hasn’t been on the field yet.
“Yang!” Changbin rises and claps him on the shoulder, nearly shoving the poor, unsuspecting boy across the room. “Donuts? On a Wednesday? You’re a Godsend.”
The mug goes back into the dish drainer, forgotten, and the itch of anxiety at the top of your spine begins to dissipate. It’s fine. Everything is fine. You can exist like this, quiet and watching under the comfortable chaos of people who trust each other with their lives. There’s a bubble that you’ve created here, and for right now it is impenetrable. You let yourself breathe, because you can.
The members of your division continue to talk around you, asking Hyunjin and Changbin about their Anchorage operation.Changbin is happy to talk about the fishing he got to do before extraction, embellishing greatly on the sizes of the fish he caught. Agents from other divisions drift in and out, the breakroom feeling full and alive in a way that isn’t too overbearing.
You’re finishing the last dribble of your coffee when he arrives.
You feel his presence rather than see him, as you always do. Every microscopic hair on your body rises, perked to attention like metal seeking its magnet. Your spine goes rigid, and you're distantly aware that your grip on your mug has tightened enough that your knuckles are white. It feels like ice has been poured down your spine.
Jeongin smiles around his cruller. “Hey, Agent Han! I was wondering where you were.”
You stare into your mug. You can’t lift your eyes.
“Missed me, Yang?” His voice carries its usual musical lilt across the space. “Morning, team.”
You feel a nudge against your foot under the table. It’s Felix. A comfort, maybe, or a warning to hold yourself together so you don’t leap out of your chair and bludgeon a fellow agent with a mug.
You let your eyes trail up.
Jisung– Agent Han looks… like himself. His hair is a bit longer than you remember, curling in on itself around his ears and framing his face. His big, expressive brown eyes are crinkled under the weight of his smile, the playful smile that draws everyone in to him. He’s wearing the agency’s dark gray quarter-zip pullover over a pair of black pants. He looks perfectly normal.
You’re not sure why that angers you.
You feel the scowl settling over your face, the way your mouth pulls down and your eyebrows crease. He keeps up a steady stream of chatter as he moves through the room, effortlessly social and happy and not at all suffering like you are. Were.
He’s leaning over Changbin’s shoulder, looking at his pictures from Alaska. He’s close enough to you that you can smell his cologne. Your gaze drops to your mug again. It would be so easy to hit him with it, you think.
“Hey, uh, good morning.”
The chatter at your table has stopped.
It takes a moment, but you look over at Jisung and realize he’s speaking to you. His smile is cautious, wide eyes hopeful as he looks at you.
You stare back, unblinking.
Hyunjin takes a large bite of his everything bagel, attempting to fill his mouth to escape the awkwardness. In the process, he drops a sesame seed that Changbin picks up and begins inspecting with the kind of intensity usually reserved for bombs.
You continue to stare, the scowl on your face unmoving.
Jisung’s smile falters for a fraction of a second. Anyone else would miss it, but you see it. You see the way his shoulders tense slightly, the way his hand comes up to rub the back of his neck in that nervous habit he's had for as long as you've known him. You hate that you notice.
He tugs at the collar of his sweater, whistling and looking away. “Haha. Wow, tough crowd. Is this thing on?”
You hear choking you can only assume comes from Hyunjin. Jeongin leans over without looking and gives him one good whack on the back.
Jisung rocks back and forth on his feet, his lips pursing in thought. “Soooo, um. Yeah. I came to, uh. Deliver a message. From the big guy upstairs. Not Jesus! Um. Mr. Bang. He wants to see you. Like, um. Now.”
That’s interesting. Mr. Bang doesn’t typically summon people to his office without prior warning, especially not first thing in the morning. Not unless something important is happening. You start cataloguing every possible reason—a new lead on a previous case, a meeting with another division head, disciplinary action for the imagined physical assault of a fellow agent—
“Okay,” is all you say.
You don’t wait for him to say anything else. You gather your things, rinse your mug out in the breakroom sink, and wave to your colleagues before heading for the door. They all wave back in various dazed states, except Felix, who gives you an encouraging smile and a wiggle of his phone. Not spy code, but you know what he means.
Good luck. Text me later.
The heavy oak door of the breakroom swings shut behind you, and you let your feet take you across the linoleum floors.
You are barely ten steps away when you stop abruptly. You don’t turn around. You don’t need to.
“I know where Mr. Bang’s office is.”
Jisung’s surprised squeak comes from somewhere over your shoulder. “Huh? Oh! Of course, I know that.”
“Then why are you following me?”
“Ha! Following– I’m, you know, just.” He clears his throat. “I’m headed that way too. Small building problems, right?”
'Small building.' Mr. Bang’s office is on the 9th floor.
You start walking again, faster this time, determined to get to the elevators with enough of a gap between the two of you so that you don’t have to suffer in an enclosed space with him. The mug was one thing. The stilted conversation was another. But you cannot, and will not, willingly subject yourself to an elevator ride with Jisung Han.
You’re not sure how big of a distance you’ve put between the two of you now, but even so, it’s not enough. It will never be enough. You can feel those humongous brown eyes boring into you from anywhere in the building. You can sense the desperation rolling off of them in waves, in the same begging plea that he used to cornered you three months ago.
Please, he had said, those big eyes watery and sad. He had pulled you into a corner of the hallway away from the usual bustling crowd. There was barely an inch of space between you, but it wasn't the close quarters that was suffocating, it was the weight of his gaze. His hands shook in the space between you. Please tell me what I did. I can fix it, I know I can, I just–
You shook your head, putting a hand on his arm and shoving, hard, attempting to put space between you. Despite his training and his muscle, he stumbled back easily, hurt crumbling the last of his resolve like an old stone wall. You opened your mouth to say something, anything really– to tell him that what was done was done, that he couldn’t take back anything that he said, but the words lodged in your throat like bile.
You have no idea what your face must have looked like then, but whatever it was made Jisung wither. You remember watching his broad shoulders curl in, his head hanging down in defeat as you backed away from him.
Just… Leave me alone, Agent Han.
You shake your head in the present, jamming your finger on the elevator’s call button.
Agent Han. That's what you call him now. It has to be. He hasn't been Jisung to you for a long, long time.
Thankfully, you don't have to wait long to board the elevators, and you sigh in relief. An older agent from another division steps out and you breeze past him, pressing your destination and watching your lone reflection as the silver doors close quietly.
The ride to the administrative floor is quick and efficient. You division head, Mr Chan Bang, has an office in the block that sits just around the corner from the elevator bay. A simple door with his name printed on it atop the agency's insignia. You’re there before you know it, staring at the CAPU Division Head carved into a placard at the side. You smooth your hands down your blouse, take a deep breath, and knock.
“Come in.”
You turn the handle and step inside.
There is nothing particularly intimidating about the office or its primary inhabitant. The space is a wide, open floor plan with tall, narrow windows that look out to the river below. Mr. Bang has decorated it with the sparse mementos of his life, photographs on the walls and a few succulents on his wide wooden desk. He is not very frightening either; your age gap is not significant, and he carries himself with a warmth you don't see in other department heads. That warmth presents itself today in a dimpled smile, the exposed skin of his forearms gesturing towards the leather seats in front of his desk.
"Good morning," he greets, the familiar twinge of his home country's accent in the undercurrent of his voice. He never uses titles, but he also never uses first names. A delicate balance of authority and friendliness. "Please, sit."
You take the seat closest to you, taking in the spread of papers and files on his desk. It's his usual brand of organized chaos. However, today he's got a stress ball shaped like a hamburger on his desk next to an industrial sized bottle of ibuprofen. He's also still holding his pen, tapping a nervous rhythm against the top of his desk.
"Good morning," you say. "Is everything alright, sir?"
Mr. Bang's eyebrows furrow. He's biting his bottom lip, clearly mulling over how to phrase whatever it is he's thinking. He opens his mouth to start, then closes it again. He stands from his chair and comes around to the front of the table, leaning against it, effectively dismantling any borders between the two of you. He folds his arms once. Twice.
"Sir?"
"Tell me about Operation Luna."
You blink. You weren't expecting that.
Operation Luna is somewhat legendary within the ICTF, specifically your division—a bit of a white whale that's been haunting the organization since before you even graduated from the academy. It's a massive international child trading ring that's been operating for, at the very least, a decade, moving victims across borders with terrifying efficiency. People in power use the children as leverages for those that owe them something. On such a grand scale, they should be relatively easy to catch, but they're ghosts. Every time the agency gets close, the ring adapts, changes tactics, disappears into the wind.
Dozens of agents have worked Operation Luna over the years. None have made significant progress.
"I know that it's ongoing," you say carefully. "A multinational trafficking operation, primarily focused on children. It's known for its sophisticated logistics and communication networks. There have been dozens of failed interception attempts over the past ten or so years."
He nods. "Anything else?"
You think back to the briefings you've read, the case files you've skimmed for training when you couldn't sleep. "The ring operates in cells. No single member knows the full network, which makes it nearly impossible to dismantle from the inside. They use legitimate child centered businesses as fronts for trades— daycares, doctor's offices, adoption services--"
"Adoption services," Mr. Bang interrupts, and something in his tone makes your pulse quicken. He nods, reaching for the stress ball and rolling it around in his hands. "What do you know about their adoption fronts?"
"Not much," you admit. "But that’s not a personal deficit, the intelligence is limited. We know they've been using private adoption agencies in suburban and rural areas, places with less oversight. They target couples looking to adopt, with a preference for those who seem frustrated by traditional timelines. The couples are innocent, genuinely looking to adopt children, but the kids they adopt, they aren’t..."
You don't need to finish. The unspoken words linger over both of your heads.
They aren’t orphans. They're victims.
Mr. Bang seems satisfied with your knowledge, nodding again and walking back to the space behind his desk. He doesn’t sit yet, but pulls out a file that looks like an agency heirloom. The corners of the folder are bent and miscolored, evidence of being passed around from division to division. He walks back towards you, stopping to lean on the empty chair next to you as he thumbs through the file.
“Six weeks ago, the Cyber Crimes team arrested one of Luna’s mid-level operators for an unrelated charge. In exchange for a reduced sentence, he blabbed. Most of what he said were things we already knew, but he gave us something new: a concrete location.”
He plucks a photograph from the folder and turns it towards you. You see a Victorian house converted into an office building, complete with pale pink siding and white trim. A hanging plaque above the door reads ‘New Beginnings Family Services’.
“This is their adoption front, stationed in New Edinborough, a small town outside of Otsego County, New York. The population is 2500, a real picturesque American dream.” You watch his eyes harden as he stares at the picture, the same way they always do when he gets serious about work. “Can you believe they’ve been operating out of here for five years.”
Five years. The implications of the timeline make your breath stutter in your chest.
You reach forward and take the picture to inspect it closer. The building looks... harmless. Surprisingly normal, even. But you have training, and you know better than to be fooled by appearances.
You run your thumb across the image, understanding dawning on you. "So we need eyes on the inside. Someone to get close, right? What do you need me to do?"
You watch in real time as your boss short circuits. The hesitation from earlier drops back into the space like a brick of lead. Mr. Bang looks at you, studies you with the same intensity you've seen him study case files and crossword puzzles, really searching your features. Whatever he's looking for, he must find, because he nods one more time. He takes a deep breath, pushes himself up off of the wall, and goes to open his office door.
"Han."
The floor disappears from under your feet.
Maybe there’s another Han, your brain tries to reason. There are at least six Kims in Internal Affairs alone.
But then you see him, all wide eyes and fluffy hair, shuffling into the room dropping into the chair next to you. He smiles, small and unsure. You continue to stare, not sure if your ears are ringing from the shock or the rage.
“Oh, hey. Funny running into you here,” he says, a little breathless.
You whip around to face Mr. Bang. “Sir, I–”
But he's already looking directly at you. "Did you know that you have the highest individual success rate of any field agent in this agency's history? Seventy-three operations, seventy-three successful outcomes."
Next to you, Jisung mumbles something that sounds like “Ooh, impressive.” You dig your nails into the leather on the chair.
“Han has run sixty-four ops, with sixty four successful outcomes. The numbers don’t lie, and as much as I am one for encouraging my agents, it's a simple fact when I say this: you two are the best. Not only individually, but your partnership saw a perfect record. We have never had a perfect partnership record in ICTF history.”
You open your mouth to argue, but you know he’s right. You’ve seen Changbin and Hyunjin come back from unsuccessful missions before, you’ve heard Felix give a good expletive-ridden recount of tech mission collaborations gone wrong.
It takes a certain level of chemistry and understanding to work together flawlessly, one that only the two of you see to have.
Had. You had that chemistry.
You watch as Mr. Bang makes his way back to his desk, finally sitting down. He produces two manilla envelopes from a drawer by his feet, a lot newer looking than the one holding the Operation Luna file. He slides them across the desk towards you.
“Kim worked very hard on these,” he murmurs. “Please read them carefully.”
Anxiety twists in your gut again. Seungmin. CAPU’s documentation specialist. Backstories have already been made. You’re going on this mission whether you want to or not.
Jisung has already started to look through his folder by the time you get the courage to crack yours open. You barely read the first word before he makes a strangled, pained noise.
“Woah,” he chokes. “Uh, dude-- I mean, Sir, Mr. Bang, Sir, how long are we–”
“Married?!”
The screech comes from your toes, boiling with white hot rage until it spills out of your mouth.
Because, yes, you’ve just bypassed a forged document with a sticky note labeled “Marriage Certificate.” It has your and Jisung’s names delicately sprawled across it in a looping calligraphy font.
You might throw up.
Next to you, Jisung has gone a shade of pink you’ve never seen before. The color starts at the tips of his ears and travels all the way down to his throat. He fumbles with the folder in his hand and a small package drops at his feet. You squint at it.
Wedding bands.
"Mr. Bang," you start, voice weak, but he holds up a hand.
"Before you say anything, I want you to listen. I know—" he pauses, choosing his words carefully, "—that there's… tension, between you two right now. I don't know the details, and frankly, I don't want to know the details because it sounds like paperwork I don’t have time to file. But what I do know is that we are closer than ever to an actual breakthrough in busting Operation Luna, and if anyone can do it, it’s you two. So please.”
Your boss wrings the foam hamburger between his hands. “Please. If not for me, then for the kids.”
For the kids.
You hate that you have to force that thought to the forefront of your mind. With anyone else it would be no problem, but you know deep inside your stomach that Mr. Bang is right; Felix needs to be here at HQ for tech operations, Hyunjin is terrified of children, Changbin is awful at long term covers, Minho is currently in the middle of Guatemala and Jeongin hasn't his training yet. There is no one else you can do this with.
Regardless, you hate that you have to look down at the documents and see a wedding certificate with your and Jisung's names printed together, almost like some sick mockery of the life you used to dream about.
But that was a long time ago, before you realized that dreaming and living were two entirely different things.
Jisung clears his throat, breaking you out of your reverie. "How long?"
"We're not sure, but we're looking at a minimum of 6 months. "
He flinches. "When do we leave?"
"We need you stationed in 8 days."
It's a faster timeline than usual, but given the nature of the assignment, you're not entirely surprised.
A tense silence settles over the office. Mr. Bang reaches over to the bottle of ibuprofen and shakes two out, downing them with a gulp of his watery iced coffee that's dripped all over his desk by now. He puts his head in his hands afterward, the hallmark of a man with too many things to balance on his shoulders.
Jisung reaches down and picks up the ziploc baggie with the wedding bands. He turns it over in his hand, examining the insides before he slides one out. The diamond is real, which shouldn’t surprise you the way it does, and the metal itself is a real gold band. He holds it in front of him and twists his wrist from side to side, watching the sunlight bounce off of it and cast tiny rainbows on the walls. He chews his lip nervously.
He turns to you. "So. Terrible timing, but will you marry me?"
Mr. Bang makes a wounded noise at his desk.
You snatch the ring from him, eyes murderous, and slide it onto your finger yourself.
synopsis: years after a messy breakup with jisung, a mechanic who always chose his work and friends over you, you return to your hometown, a single mom to ara, the daughter he doesn’t know exists. you never planned to see him again, but fate has other ideas when your car breaks down outside his shop.
warnings: heavy angst, drama, hidden child, second chance romance, exes-to-lovers, small mentions of a character death.
wc: 23,765
part 1 // part 3
The shop was too quiet after Minho and Chan left. Their laughter, their teasing, their words, all of it lingered long after the door swung shut behind them, leaving Jisung with nothing but the faint buzz of the fluorescent lights above and the weight of their questions echoing in his skull.
Usually, he would clean up at the end of the day. Tools back on their racks, surfaces wiped down, trash taken out. It was muscle memory by now, the only kind of order he kept in his life. But tonight, he couldn’t even bring himself to move. He sat slouched on the stool by his workbench, head tipped back, staring at the ceiling as if it held answers.
Ara’s face kept flashing in his mind. The wide-eyed curiosity she’d shown when she peeked under the hood with him. The way she clutched that damn bunny. The way she’d smiled when she thanked him. It shouldn’t mean anything. She was just a kid. Your kid with someone else. That’s what he’d been telling himself over and over since he first saw her. But Chan’s voice wouldn’t leave him alone.
"She’s what.. four? Maybe five? And how long ago did she leave?"
The math was too neat. Too precise. He couldn’t stop running it in his head like some sick equation.
Four. Five. Five years ago. And then there was you.
The way you wouldn’t look at him too long. The way you spoke to him like every word was a burden, like you were terrified of even being in the same room.
If you were with someone, why hadn’t he seen them? Why hadn’t you mentioned a name? Jisung scrubbed his hands over his face, dragging down to his jaw. His chest ached, his stomach churned. Would you have told him?
He wanted to believe yes. That even after the screaming fights, the broken promises, the ugly breakup, you wouldn’t have hidden something that big. You weren’t cruel. You weren’t spiteful. But then again… you hadn’t so much as texted him in five years. Not once. You couldn’t even look him in the eye last night. And tonight, when you stormed off after the argument, the disgust in your expression had been like a knife in his gut.
Maybe you wouldn’t have told him. Maybe you thought he didn’t deserve to know.
Jealousy clawed its way back up, raw and bitter. You had someone else now. A boyfriend. Maybe a husband. He’d told himself that was the only reason you moved on, that was why Ara existed. But if Chan was right, if Ara wasn’t someone else’s daughter then what the hell did that mean?
He gripped the edge of the workbench so hard his knuckles turned white. The ragged thoughts tangled together until he couldn’t breathe.
Would you be furious if he showed up? Probably. Would you slam the door in his face? Definitely. But would you finally tell him the truth? He didn’t think. He didn’t weigh it out. He didn’t plan it.
One moment he was staring at the floor, chest heaving with the storm in his head, and the next he was grabbing his jacket, shoving his arms through the sleeves. His keys clattered in his hand, his boots heavy against the concrete as he stalked toward the door.
He didn’t bother with the cleanup. Didn’t bother shutting down the tools. He only locked the shop out of habit before climbing into his car.
The engine roared to life, headlights slicing through the dark night as he pulled onto the road. His grip on the wheel was tight, his pulse loud in his ears.
You wouldn’t like it. He knew that. Hell, he’d probably regret it later. But the thought of sitting in that shop one more second, haunted by your face and Ara’s laugh, made him feel like he was going to crawl out of his own skin.
So he drove. Toward your house. Toward answers.
-
The house was quiet, eerily so. Ara had finally drifted off after her usual protests about bedtime, curled around the little blanket she’d agreed to sleep with. You had tiptoed out of her room, relieved when her breathing evened out, and closed the door softly behind you.
For the first time all day, the silence felt like yours.
You padded barefoot into the living room, the soft hum of the fridge the only sound in the house. The bottle of wine waiting on the counter caught your eye. You didn’t drink often, especially not since Ara came along but tonight, after the chaos of tantrums, you needed something to take the edge off.
The glass was half-empty by the time you curled into the couch with a book you weren’t actually reading. The words blurred, your mind circling everything you were trying not to think about him.
Han Jisung.
Even saying his name in your head made your chest tighten. Seeing him again had already undone so much progress you thought you’d made over the years. You hated how easily his presence still got under your skin. Hated how your pulse still skipped whenever his voice dropped too low, whenever his gaze cut into you like it could still see through your walls.
You took another slow sip of wine, trying to force him out of your thoughts, when the knock came. Sharp. Jarring. At this hour.
You jumped, setting your glass down harder than you meant to. The sound echoed in the quiet house, making you wince. No one came by this late. Not since your mom’s passing, not since people stopped bringing casseroles and condolences. And yet, another knock followed, harder this time.
Your heart sped up as you got to your feet, crossing the room. The porch light threw a faint glow outside, but through the curtain, all you could make out was a tall shadow pacing, shifting restlessly from one foot to the other.
Every nerve in your body screamed hesitation, but habit won. You pulled the door open. And froze. Jisung.
He looked up instantly, like he’d been waiting for you. His eyes locked on yours, sharp even in the dim light, his mouth pressed into a tight line. He wasn’t smiling. He wasn’t teasing. He wasn’t pretending this was casual.
It felt like the air thickened, heavy between you.
Neither of you spoke at first. You stared at him, glass of wine still lingering in your system, stomach turning over itself. He looked different under your porch light, messier, more worn down, but still him. Always him.
When his voice finally came, it cut through the silence like a blade.
“How long,” he asked, low and unsteady, “were you going to keep pretending I wouldn’t find out?”
The words slammed into you, knocking the air out of your lungs.
Your heart raced, thudding in your ears. You gripped the doorframe tighter, like it was the only thing holding you up.
For a second, you considered deflecting. Laughing bitterly. Asking him what the hell he was talking about. But you couldn’t. Not with the way he was looking at you, not with the raw anger and betrayal simmering behind his eyes. So instead, your voice came out smaller than you intended.
“…Who told you?”
The question made him freeze. His jaw flexed. His eyes widened, just slightly, but it was enough. Because he hadn’t been sure. And now he was.
You watched the realization hit him in real time. The sharp inhale. The way his shoulders tensed. His fists curling at his sides.
The silence between you was a live wire. One spark, and it snapped.
“So it’s true,” Jisung said again, this time louder, sharper. His chest rose and fell in uneven bursts, and he looked at you like he couldn’t decide whether to scream or collapse.
You swallowed hard, your throat tight. “Jisung—”
“How long?” His voice cut over yours, raw. “How long were you planning to keep this from me?”
Your jaw clenched. Your first instinct was to retreat, to shield yourself, but something inside you the exhaustion, the bitterness, the years of doing it all alone, snapped instead.
“How was I supposed to tell you, huh?” Your voice cracked, rising as anger finally found you. “Back then, you couldn’t even show up for me. You think you could’ve shown up for a baby?”
His eyes darkened, hurt flashing before it twisted into anger. “Don’t you dare,” he snapped, stepping closer, fists clenched at his sides. “Don’t you dare stand there and tell me I wouldn’t have shown up for my own daughter.”
You laughed bitterly, though it sounded more like a sob. “You barely showed up for me! What made you think you would’ve magically changed overnight? You were irresponsible, Jisung! Always late, always broke, always putting me last—behind your friends, behind your work, behind everything.”
He flinched, but his glare only sharpened. “Because every time we were together, you made it impossible! We argued about everything, Y/N! Money, time, the future, you never trusted me to figure it out. And yeah, maybe I leaned on my friends, maybe I worked more, but do you really think that means I wouldn’t have been there for her?”
You shook your head, biting out a humorless laugh. “You would’ve what? Quit your job? Dropped your friends? Magically become the man you weren’t back then? Please.”
His breath came ragged, his hands tugging at his hair as if he was physically trying to hold himself together. “She’s five, Y/N. Five! And I’m only finding out now?” His voice cracked, fury tangled with grief. “I’ve missed everything.. her first steps, her first words, her first day of school—everything.”
The words hit like a punch to your gut, guilt clawing at your chest. You wanted to tell him you weren’t trying to punish him, that you’d been scared and broken and didn’t know how to handle it. But the anger was louder than the guilt, feeding the storm already raging.
“You think I wanted this?” you shouted back, your voice shaking as your eyes burned. “You think I wanted to raise her alone? To lie to her? To carry all of this by myself while you were out drinking with your friends and sleeping with strangers? You weren’t ready, Jisung! You weren’t ready for me, and you sure as hell weren’t ready for her.”
His chest heaved, his face twisted in anguish. “You didn’t even give me the chance to prove you wrong.”
You froze at that, the raw hurt in his voice cutting deeper than his anger ever could. For a long moment, neither of you spoke, both breathing hard like you’d just gone ten rounds in a fight. The only sound was the quiet hum of the night around you the crickets, the faint wind through the trees, the thundering of your own heartbeat.
Jisung dragged a shaky hand down his face, his eyes wet but fierce as they locked on yours. “You had no right to decide for me. No right to take her away from me. She’s mine too.”
Your lips parted, but no words came. Because he was right. And the truth of that, after all these years was almost too much to bear.
“What the hell have you even told her about me?”
Your breath hitched.
His eyes were on you, wide and searching, demanding. “Does she think I don’t exist? Does she think—what? That some other guy’s her dad? That some stranger’s been playing house in my place all this time?”
The bitterness in his tone made your chest tighten. You lifted your chin, though your throat burned. “She knows she has a dad.”
The flicker of relief in his expression lasted barely a second before suspicion swallowed it whole. “What did you tell her, Y/N?”
You hesitated, arms crossing in front of you like armor. “That… that he lives far away. That he works a lot. That he can’t be here.”
Jisung’s head dropped forward, his jaw working furiously as he let out a humorless laugh. He shook his head, almost in disbelief. “So that’s me? Some ghost of a dad who’s ‘too busy with work’ to ever show up?”
“It’s better than telling her the truth,” you snapped, your voice rising before you could stop it.
His eyes snapped to yours, sharp and wounded all at once. “Better for who? For her or for you?”
The accusation landed like a slap.
You felt your defenses wobble, but you held your ground. “She’s just a kid, Jisung. She doesn’t understand why you and I broke up, why things went the way they did. What good would it do to dump all of that on her? To tell her her dad was here all along but didn’t even know she existed?”
His expression twisted, pained. “You don’t get to make that call on your own.” His voice cracked as it broke into a yell. “She’s my daughter too!”
The words lodged in your chest, making it hard to breathe.
He stepped forward, hands trembling at his sides, his anger now laced with something deeper, desperation. “So what? You just get to decide when I meet her? How she sees me? Whether she even knows I’m her dad at all? Do you know how insane that sounds?”
You looked away, blinking hard as tears burned your eyes. “She’s my whole world. My responsibility. I’ve protected her since the second she was born. I had to. Because you weren’t there.”
Jisung’s voice dropped low, raw and guttural. “Not because I didn’t want to be because you never gave me the chance.”
Your lips trembled, but no sound came out.
He let out a harsh breath, scoffing bitterly. “You’re really standing here, telling me I have a daughter, and in the same breath saying you don’t want her to know who I am?” His voice shook as he leaned closer, eyes locked on yours. “Why the hell wouldn’t she know her own father?”
The question hit you square in the chest, because deep down, you didn’t have a clean answer. Not one that didn’t make you sound like the villain.
The porch light hummed, casting a harsh glow between you. Jisung’s chest heaved, his fists clenched like if he didn’t hold himself together he’d fall apart.
“I want answers,” he said, voice low but shaking with barely restrained fury. “Right now. No more lies, no more bullshit excuses. I deserve to know why.”
Your throat tightened. “Jisung—”
“No.” He cut you off with a sharp shake of his head. His voice cracked as it rose. “You don’t get to stand there and play silent. You owe me this, Y/N. After everything, you owe me the truth.”
Your lips trembled. For once, you couldn’t hide behind deflection or sarcasm or bitterness. His words cornered you, leaving no escape.
“I’m sorry,” you whispered, and his whole body stiffened at the sound. “I’m sorry for keeping her from you. I’m sorry you didn’t know.”
The words hung heavy in the night, but your voice steadied as you went on. “But I’m not sorry for leaving.”
That made him blink. His brows furrowed, like he hadn’t expected you to say it out loud. “What?”
“I’m not sorry I left,” you repeated, louder this time, the steel returning to your voice even as your chest ached. “Because staying? Staying with you back then would’ve been worse. For me. For her. We would’ve been waiting in the dark, waiting for you to come home—”
His face twisted. “Don’t.”
“—waiting for you to remember us when you were too busy with your friends or drowning yourself in work—”
“Stop it,” he snapped, his voice breaking.
“Why?” You barked out a humorless laugh, tears burning at the corners of your eyes. “Because it’s the truth? You barely came home, Jisung! You barely looked at me when you did. And I was supposed to believe you’d suddenly turn into this perfect father when you couldn’t even be a partner?”
His fists unclenched, his arms dropping helplessly at his sides. His eyes were wet, his voice rough. “I would’ve tried. I would’ve made it work—for her, I would’ve. But you never gave me the chance.”
Your heart clenched painfully. “And what was I supposed to do? Wait around hoping you’d change? Raise her while fighting with you every night? Show her that kind of love? No. I wasn’t going to let her grow up thinking that was normal.”
For a long moment, all you could hear was your uneven breathing, his ragged breaths mixing with yours.
Then Jisung let out a bitter laugh, one hand dragging down his face as if he couldn’t believe any of this was real. “So that’s it? You decided I wasn’t enough, and you walked. You took her with you, and you never looked back.”
You flinched, but you didn’t back down. “I did what I had to do.”
His gaze snapped to yours, glassy with pain and rage. “You did what was easiest. For you.”
The words landed heavy, because part of you wondered if there was truth in them. You hadn’t left because it was easy, you’d left because staying had felt like slow death but there was no way to make him see that.
You swallowed hard, arms wrapping around yourself. “I made the choice I thought was best. For Ara. For me. I’m not going to apologize for that.”
Jisung shook his head, his voice low and ragged. “And in the process, you ripped five years away from me. Five years I’ll never get back.”
The silence that followed was deafening. He stared at you like you were both a stranger and the only person he’d ever wanted. And you stood rooted in the doorway, torn between guilt and stubbornness, between sorrow and anger. Neither of you won. Neither of you ever had.
For a long time, neither of you spoke. The words already said hung between you like smoke after a fire, acrid and choking, making it impossible to breathe normally. Jisung’s jaw worked like he was fighting himself, fighting to keep from saying something else, something that might burn you both down completely.
Finally, he gave a sharp nod, swallowing hard. His voice was rough, cracked at the edges. “You know where I’ll be,” he muttered, eyes darting anywhere but yours. “If you finally decide to let me meet my daughter.”
The words landed like stones in your chest. Daughter. His daughter. He’d said it out loud, not questioning it, not dancing around it, claiming it as though it had always been his right.
“Jisung—” you started, reaching out instinctively. But he’d already turned.
His back was rigid, his hands shoved into his jacket pockets, shoulders drawn tight like a coiled spring. He didn’t look back, not once, as he descended your porch steps. His steps were heavy, almost uneven, like he wanted to keep himself from running. You opened your mouth, ready to call out again, to say maybe he could meet her, just not tonight, not like this but your voice caught in your throat.
You knew this version of him. When Jisung was upset, truly upset he always walked away. Always left before the storm inside him could make things worse. And you knew chasing after him wouldn’t change that.
The sound of his car engine starting in the distance carried through the night air. Then it faded, leaving only silence.
You stood there for a moment, hand still clutching the doorframe, heart pounding so loud it almost drowned out the quiet of the house. His words kept circling, relentless and sharp: you know where I’ll be…
When you finally closed the door and turned, your breath caught in your throat. A small figure was standing at the bottom of the stairs.
Ara.
She was in her pink pajama set, hair mussed from sleep, clutching her blanket in one hand. Her wide eyes peeked at you through the dim glow of the hallway light.
“Mommy?” Her voice was small, uncertain. “Who was that?”
Your heart dropped. You froze for a second too long before forcing a smile, the laugh tumbling out nervous, fragile. “No one, baby. Just… no one.”
Ara blinked at you, her lips turning down in a little frown. She rubbed her eyes with her free hand. “I woke up. I heard yelling.” Her voice wobbled, the words dragging with sleep. “I got worried. For you.”
Something in you cracked right then. You swallowed the lump in your throat and walked over, crouching to her level. “Oh, baby.”
You gathered her into your arms, pressing a kiss to her warm temple. She wrapped her arms around your neck instantly, small and trusting, her blanket squished between you both.
“I’m okay,” you whispered, carrying her back upstairs. “Mommy’s okay. Nothing for you to worry about, alright?”
She nodded sleepily against your shoulder, her little voice muffled. “Okay.”
You tucked her back into bed, smoothing the hair from her forehead. She was asleep again within minutes, her breathing soft and even, her hand still curled around her blanket. But you couldn’t sleep.
You stood there in the doorway for a long time, watching her chest rise and fall. Jisung’s words echoed in your head, spinning on a loop you couldn’t silence. You know where I’ll be. And the worst part, the part you didn’t want to admit, not even to yourself was that a part of you already knew you couldn’t keep avoiding him. Not forever.
Not when Ara’s world had already brushed against his. Not when your heart still hadn’t let go.
-
The morning crept in slowly, the pale light bleeding through the curtains in streaks. You hadn’t slept much, tossing and turning in sheets that still felt too big, too empty. Every time you closed your eyes, Jisung’s voice resurfaced. That raw edge when he said daughter. That sharp bitterness when he realized how much time had already been lost.
By the time Ara padded into the kitchen, rubbing her eyes with one fist and dragging her blanket behind her, you were already on your second cup of coffee. The mug sat warm between your palms, your phone ignored on the counter. You told yourself not to let her see the storm in your head, so you smiled, sliding her usual plate across the table, scrambled eggs, a cut-up apple, her favorite cereal sitting in a small bowl.
Ara climbed onto the chair, legs swinging, and began to munch quietly. She was always slow in the mornings, soft-spoken, her world still fuzzy with leftover dreams. You watched her chew, the way her hair stuck up in uneven tufts from sleep, the way her tiny shoulders hunched as she focused on her food.
For a long moment, you just let yourself breathe her in. The calm before the inevitable.
You stirred your coffee absentmindedly, then asked, as lightly as you could manage, “Ara… do you want to see the mechanic again?”
Her fork froze halfway to her mouth. Then her eyes lit up, wide and sparkling in a way. She nodded so eagerly her hair bounced.
“Yes!” she said around a mouthful of egg. “I have so many questions! About cars! And tools! And how he makes the noises stop!”
Your chest tightened. You managed a soft chuckle, even though your throat was dry. “You’d… like to see him again, then?”
Ara squealed, clapping her hands together, the fork clattering against her plate. She bounced in her chair, unable to sit still, her excitement overflowing. “Yes! Yes, Mommy, please! Can we? Can we today?!”
You stared at her, your daughter, your entire world glowing with a joy so pure it broke you a little. Because Jisung was right. She deserved this. She deserved him.
And he… despite everything, despite the broken pieces left scattered from your past, he deserved her too.
You swallowed hard, the decision feeling heavier than anything you’d ever carried, heavier even than leaving him all those years ago. “Finish your breakfast first,” you said softly, forcing your voice steady. “Then we’ll go.”
Ara squealed again, shimmying in her seat like she couldn’t contain it, scarfing down her eggs now with determination.
You turned away, pressing your fingers to your temple, your other hand tightening around your mug. It took everything in you to breathe through it, to be the adult, the mother, the woman who had to do the right thing even when it terrified her.
Because this wasn’t about your anger anymore. This wasn’t about your heartbreak. This wasn’t even about the years you’d lost, years you couldn’t get back.
It was about Ara. And Ara deserved to know her father.
Even if you weren’t sure you were ready to face him again.
-
The shop smelled faintly of oil and metal the way it always did, but this time, stepping through the door felt different like walking straight into a weight pressing down on your chest. Ara’s hand was tucked firmly in yours, warm and eager, tugging you forward as her little sneakers squeaked against the concrete floor.
Seojin was the first to notice you. He leaned against the counter, a rag hanging from his back pocket, his smile easy but his brow lifting slightly at the sight of you.
“Well, well,” he said lightly, straightening. “Back again. Don’t tell me the car’s already giving you trouble?”
You shook your head quickly, feeling Ara’s tug grow stronger on your hand. “No… not that. I was just… looking for Jisung.”
At the mention of his boss’s name, Seojin’s grin faded, replaced by a more cautious look. He lowered his voice as if to warn you. “He’s here, but…” He paused, scratching the back of his neck. “He’s not in the best mood today.”
Your stomach tightened. That didn’t surprise you, not after last night, but hearing it aloud only made your nerves worse. You managed a stiff nod. “Where is he?”
Seojin jerked his thumb toward the back. “In his office. At his desk, sulking.”
You huffed softly, more at yourself than him, and muttered a quick, “Thanks.”
But Ara didn’t wait. The second Seojin gestured, she tugged your hand harder, her small frame determined, her excitement practically vibrating off her.
“Mommy, c’mon!” she squealed, pulling you along.
Her eagerness pulled a weak smile from you, even through your nerves. “Slow down, sweetheart. We’ll get there.”
By the time you reached the door, your heart was hammering. You raised a hand and knocked softly.
A grumble came from inside. Jisung’s voice, low and edged with irritation: “Seojin, I told you, I’m not taking customers today. Handle it yourself.”
Ara blinked at you expectantly, whispering, “Is he mad?”
You swallowed, squeezing her hand, and pushed the door open.
Jisung looked up.
The instant his eyes landed on you, his posture snapped upright. He stood quickly from his chair, the surprise flickering across his face giving way to something unreadable. His lips parted like he had something to say, but before he could, Ara’s little voice cut through the tension.
“Hi!” she chirped, her grin wide, her eyes shining with excitement.
And just like that, something shifted.
Jisung’s shoulders eased, the sharp line of his mouth softening into a smile he didn’t even seem to realize was there. He blinked, glancing from her to you and back, but Ara had already stepped forward, her shyness forgotten.
“I wanted to ask you questions!” she said all in one breath, bouncing on her toes. “About cars and how they work and the noises they make and the tools you use and—”
She didn’t stop, the words tumbling out in an endless stream of curiosity. And Jisung laughed.
It wasn’t bitter or sharp, it was a real laugh, warm and startled, like the sound had caught him off guard. He ran a hand through his hair as he stepped around the desk, crouching slightly so he wasn’t towering over her.
“Slow down, kid,” he said, his grin lingering. “One question at a time, yeah?”
Ara beamed at him, rocking on her heels. “Okay! Then… what’s your favorite car to fix?”
You stood frozen by the doorway, watching the scene unfold. Watching him. The way his entire face softened in her presence, the way the tension that had coiled in his body last night seemed to melt under Ara’s innocent questions. He was looking at her, not like an inconvenience, not like a stranger’s kid he had to tolerate but with real warmth. With a gentleness that tugged at something deep inside your chest.
And Ara… Ara looked at him like he hung the stars.
-
Jisung hadn’t slept.
Not really. He’d laid in bed staring at the ceiling, the glow of his phone screen long since gone dark, the room thick with silence. But his head hadn’t stopped buzzing. Your voice still rang in his ears, sharp and angry, every word you threw at him cutting deeper than he wanted to admit.
How was I supposed to tell you? You barely made time for me. You missed everything.
You weren’t wrong. That was the worst part. He had excuses, sure work, exhaustion, the constant noise of life but none of them made him feel less like the kind of man who didn’t show up when it mattered. The thought of Ara, his daughter living her whole life without him knowing… it made him want to put his fist through the wall.
But when he closed his eyes, he hadn’t seen your angry face. He saw Ara. The way she hugged her bunny, thanked him. That sparkle in her eyes when she asked him questions about cars, innocent and bright. And every time the memory replayed, the guilt followed: five years. He’d missed five entire years.
By the time dawn bled into the sky, Jisung gave up. He dragged himself out of bed, showered half-heartedly, and drove to the shop long before he normally opened.
Seojin arrived not long after, hair messy under his cap, energy far too chipper for Jisung’s mood. He greeted him with a, “Morning, boss,” but Jisung only grunted in return.
“Not taking customers today,” Jisung said, his voice rough from lack of sleep. “You handle it. I’ll be in my office.”
Seojin raised a brow but didn’t push. “Everything?”
“Everything,” Jisung snapped, sharper than he meant. “Don’t come to me unless the place is burning down.”
Seojin blinked at him but shrugged, heading for the garage floor. He knew better than to argue when Jisung was in one of his moods.
And Jisung was in one of his moods, grumbling under his breath, running a hand over his face as he sat at his desk, glaring at the scattered paperwork like it had personally wronged him. Every noise outside irritated him, every question Seojin dared to poke his head in to ask was met with a low, frustrated, “Figure it out yourself.”
But beneath the irritation was a restlessness that wouldn’t go away. His foot tapped against the floor, his hands clenched and unclenched. The truth was, he wasn’t angry at Seojin, or at the shop. He was angry at himself.
And then the bell above the shop door jingled faintly. He barely registered it, assuming it was another customer Seojin would handle. He tried to focus on the invoice in front of him, but he caught the sound of small footsteps against the concrete floor. Quick, uneven, almost bouncing.
And then a laugh. Light. Bright. Familiar.
Jisung’s head shot up. He saw you. You, standing just a few steps inside the shop, Ara’s small hand clasped in yours. And Ara, beaming up at him like the sun had followed her in.
In that instant, Jisung’s exhaustion, his anger, all of it was swept aside. His heart didn’t just skip, it burst.
He hadn’t expected to see her again so soon. He hadn’t dared hope. And yet here she was, practically bouncing with excitement, her eyes fixed on him like she’d been waiting all morning for this.
It was enough to knock the air right out of his lungs.
-
You’d told yourself to be strong. To hold your ground, to keep a firm hand on Ara’s excitement and not let your emotions spill into every corner of the shop. But the second she saw Jisung, really saw him, your resolve crumbled.
Ara lit up like it was Christmas morning. She clutched her bunny under one arm, her curls bouncing as she skipped toward him, a dozen questions spilling out of her before you could even catch up.
“What’s that one?” she asked, pointing at the rack of wrenches. “And what’s that smell?” she added quickly, nose scrunching adorably. “Do the cars talk to you when they’re broken? How do you know what hurts?”
You hovered by the side of the room, leaning against the wall, pretending to be casual when inside your chest, your heart was a mess of thudding and twisting. You crossed your arms, more for stability than anything, because the sight in front of you made your knees weak.
Jisung didn’t hesitate with her. Didn’t brush her off or laugh like she was being silly. He crouched down beside her, pointing at tools, answering every question with a patience you hadn’t seen in years.
“That one’s a wrench,” he said, picking it up and showing her the grip. “Comes in all different sizes because cars like to make us suffer.”
Ara giggled, the sound bouncing through the garage like sunlight.
“The smell is oil,” he continued, his tone softer now. “It’s kind of yucky, huh? But it helps the cars run smooth.”
Ara wrinkled her nose but smiled anyway. “Like medicine?”
Jisung paused, blinking at her before nodding. “Yeah. Exactly like medicine.”
You pressed your lips together tightly, your throat aching. He’d always been like that, good with kids, even when it surprised him. You remembered family gatherings where cousins’ children had latched onto him, following him around, and he never once shooed them away. He’d taught a six-year-old how to use a screwdriver once, beaming at the kid like he’d just handed him the moon.
And now, watching him with Ara, you felt it all over again, the sting of what could have been.
She looked up at him like he was everything she wanted to know about the world. And he… he looked at her like she was the most precious thing that had ever walked into his shop.
He followed her around as she wandered, her bunny tucked tight at her side, her free hand pointing at everything that caught her eye. Jisung trailed after her, answering her questions with quiet ease, like this had always been his role.
And you stood there on the sidelines, silent. Because what else could you do?
This was the thing you’d been dreading, the thing you’d worked so hard to prevent, and yet seeing it, seeing the way she gravitated toward him naturally, the way he softened without even realizing it, it didn’t look wrong.
It looked inevitable. And that scared you more than anything. You tried to stay out of the way.
You told yourself that the best thing you could do was let Ara ask her questions, let her curiosity fill the air and keep you somewhere in the background where your presence wouldn’t ruin the fragile peace of the moment.
But the longer you watched, the harder it became to pretend you weren’t being pulled in.
Ara was unstoppable. She darted from one corner of the shop to the next, her bunny clutched close against her side, her hair bouncing with every step. Jisung followed without hesitation, answering each question she threw his way as if he’d been waiting all morning for them.
Every now and then, she’d turn back toward you, her grin wide, her eyes shining as if she was proud of herself for keeping up with him.
“Mommy! Did you know cars have hearts too?!” she exclaimed at one point, pointing toward an engine.
You blinked, taken off guard. “Hearts?”
“Engines,” Jisung explained from behind her, rubbing the back of his neck, clearly amused. “She asked what makes them alive. I told her it’s kind of like their heart.”
Ara nodded enthusiastically, clearly pleased with her new knowledge. “See? Cars have hearts too! Like us!”
You smiled faintly, but it didn’t reach your eyes. There was a tightness in your chest that only grew the longer you watched them together.
Jisung crouched beside Ara again as she pointed at another tool hanging from the pegboard. She was talking nonstop, her voice full of awe and excitement, and every word pulled a quiet, almost reverent look from him. He was soft with her, gentle in a way that made your throat tighten.
And that’s when Ara’s eyes flicked to you again.
“Mommy,” she said, turning fully this time, her little hand reaching out. “Come here! Come see!”
You froze. “It’s okay, baby. You go ahead, I’m watching.”
But she shook her head, that stubborn spark flashing in her eyes, the same one that reminded you far too much of Jisung. “No, come look!” she insisted, tugging harder at your hand. “He said I can help, but you have to say it’s okay!”
The sound of Jisung’s quiet laugh filled the space. It wasn’t mocking, it was something softer, like he was caught between surprise and something dangerously close to warmth. “She’s persistent,” he murmured. “Wonder where she gets that from.”
You shot him a look, but it lacked venom. The corner of his mouth twitched anyway, that old smirk threatening to surface, but he turned back to Ara, pretending to focus on the wrench in his hand.
“Alright,” you sighed finally, letting Ara’s hand tug you closer. “But just for a second. And you stay right where he tells you to, understood?”
Ara beamed like she’d just won a battle. “Okay!”
She guided you forward until you stood beside Jisung. The smell of oil and metal hit you stronger up close, and beneath it, something familiar. His cologne. It hadn’t changed. It was faint, but it was him.
Jisung straightened a little, eyes flicking to yours, and for a second, the noise of the shop seemed to fade. It was just the two of you standing there, the hum of the fluorescent lights overhead and Ara’s voice echoing faintly as she talked to her bunny.
He looked tired. Not the kind of tired that came from lack of sleep, but the kind that settled deep in his bones. Yet when Ara tugged at his sleeve, he smiled again, easy and genuine, like the fatigue didn’t exist.
“She’s got a million questions,” he said, his voice quiet enough that only you could hear.
You nodded, your eyes falling to Ara, who was now gently “fixing” the air with a toy screwdriver he’d handed her. “She always does.”
There was a pause. One heavy enough to make your heart ache.
You could feel his gaze on you, could almost sense the thoughts flickering behind his eyes. Regret, maybe. Wonder. Questions he wasn’t sure how to ask.
When you finally looked at him, his lips parted like he wanted to say something, but Ara’s voice cut through again before he could.
“Mommy! I’m fixing it!”
You smiled down at her, grateful for the interruption, for the tiny bubble she’d created that kept everything else from spilling out.
“That’s amazing, baby,” you said softly.
The sound of Ara’s small footsteps faded as she darted toward the far side of the shop again, her bunny tucked beneath her arm like a co-conspirator. You watched her go, a mix of affection and unease pulling at your chest.
The quiet she left behind wasn’t comfortable. It was heavy.
When you turned back, Jisung was already watching you.
His arms were crossed loosely over his chest, his jaw tight. You could see the faint trace of grease still clinging to his forearm, the way a thin line of sweat had dried along the curve of his neck from earlier work.
“Didn’t think you’d come back,” he said finally. His tone wasn’t sharp, but there was something in it, something caught between disbelief and exhaustion.
You swallowed. “Ara wanted to see you.”
A small smile tugged at the corner of his mouth, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “Right. Ara.”
There it was again, that wall between you, invisible but immovable.
You crossed your arms, mirroring him without meaning to. “She had questions. I didn’t want to keep her from getting answers.”
His gaze lingered on you for a moment longer before dropping to the floor. “You could’ve sent someone else. Or called. You didn’t have to come yourself.”
You let out a quiet breath, half a laugh but without humor. “Would you have picked up if I called?”
That got him. His lips parted, but no words came out. Instead, he sighed, rubbing a hand over his face like he was already tired of fighting.
“I don’t know what you want me to say,” he muttered. “You show up here with her—after all these years and I’m supposed to just… what? Pretend it doesn’t mean anything?”
You stepped closer before you realized you were doing it, your voice dropping to a whisper. “It’s not about you and me anymore, Jisung.”
His eyes lifted, sharp now, cutting through the thin air between you. “It’s always been about you and me. That’s the problem.”
You froze. The words hit harder than you wanted to admit.
He shook his head, almost like he was trying to laugh it off, but his voice cracked when he spoke again. “You think I don’t get it? That I don’t know I screwed up? I know. I lost you. I lost years. But I’m not losing her too.”
You looked away. The sound of Ara humming softly from the back of the shop reached you faintly, grounding you.
“She’s happy,” you said quietly. “That’s all I ever wanted.”
“And you think she wouldn’t be if I was around?” he shot back, stepping closer now. You could feel the warmth radiating off him, the faint scent of oil and metal and something achingly familiar. “You think me being here ruins that?”
You shook your head quickly, but your throat felt too tight to speak.
Jisung let out a breath, the fight in his voice dimming. “You don’t have to forgive me,” he said finally. “You don’t even have to like me. But don’t shut me out of her life before I even get the chance to be part of it.”
You looked up at him, eyes softening despite yourself. He looked wrecked, vulnerable in a way you hadn’t seen in years.
It was easier when you could paint him as the careless one. Easier when he was the reason everything fell apart. But right now, standing in front of him, you couldn’t see that version anymore. You only saw the man who used to hold your hand while you fell asleep, who built his first car in a rusted shed behind his parents’ house, who was now looking at you like you were both ghosts of something that never really ended.
“I’m not shutting you out,” you said finally, voice barely above a whisper. “I’m just… trying to figure out how to do this without breaking everything again.”
For a moment, neither of you said anything.
Then, faintly, Ara’s laughter echoed from somewhere near the back of the shop. Jisung’s expression softened instantly, his gaze drifting toward the sound.
“She’s got your laugh,” he said, almost to himself.
You didn’t know what to do with that, how a simple sentence could make your eyes sting and your heart twist at the same time.
So you smiled instead, weak but real. “She’s got your curiosity.”
He looked back at you then, and for the first time since the night he showed up at your door, the tension between you didn’t feel like it was about anger. It felt like possibility. Fragile, terrifying, but real.
You both stood there, not saying another word, while Ara’s voice carried softly through the open space, bright and unaware of the storm she had just calmed without knowing.
Ara’s laughter carried through the garage like sunlight through dust. It was soft and bright, cutting through the lingering tension you hadn’t been able to shake. You could hear the faint scrape of her sneakers against the concrete floor, the rustle of her little bunny tucked under her arm as she explored again.
Jisung took a small step back, wiping his palms against a rag that was already stained with oil. His eyes followed the sound of her voice, a ghost of a smile appearing before he looked back at you.
“Mind if I… show her a few things?” he asked carefully, like the question might shatter if he said it too fast.
You hesitated, arms folded across your chest out of habit. But Ara’s laugh echoed again, that bubbling, curious sound you loved so much, and suddenly you couldn’t find the heart to say no.
“Just… make sure she doesn’t touch anything sharp,” you murmured.
Jisung’s mouth twitched. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”
You watched him move toward her, his steps slow, deliberate, like he was afraid of scaring her off. Ara looked up at him, her eyes wide and trusting in the way children always were when they sensed kindness instead of threat.
“Do all cars sleep here?” she asked, looking around at the vehicles lined up in the shop.
Jisung knelt beside her, resting his arms on his knees. “Sort of,” he said, thinking. “They’re resting. I fix them so they can wake up again.”
Ara gasped softly, clutching her bunny tighter. “You make them wake up?”
He smiled. “Yeah. Want to see how?”
Her excitement was instant, pure. She nodded so hard that her little curls bounced, and your heart clenched.
You leaned against the frame of the office door, half nervous, half unable to look away.
Jisung led her to a car with the hood open, pointing at the various parts carefully, explaining in a tone so gentle you barely recognized it. You’d seen him fix things before focused, serious, his brow furrowed in thought but never like this. Never with this kind of patience, this kind of warmth.
“That one?” Ara asked, pointing to the engine. “Is that where they sleep?”
“Exactly,” Jisung said, his grin growing. “That’s the heart. It’s what makes them move. But sometimes hearts get tired.”
Ara frowned, considering it. “Do you fix hearts too?”
For a second, just one you saw Jisung’s smile falter. He glanced at you. The air thickened between you again, not like before when it was all sharp edges and pain, but something quieter. Sadder.
He looked back at Ara. “Trying to,” he said softly.
She didn’t catch the weight in his voice, just smiled and nodded proudly, as if she’d understood something simple and true. You had to turn away for a moment, pretending to fix your sleeve, because your throat had tightened.
Ara’s attention soon shifted again, as it always did. “Can I help?”
Jisung chuckled, shaking his head. “Tell you what, you can hand me tools. But you have to be really careful. Deal?”
“Deal!”
You smiled despite yourself, watching them. She stood beside him on her tiptoes, handing him a wrench that was too heavy for her small hands. He steadied it with her, guiding her fingers around the handle, showing her how to hold it properly.
It was an image that burned itself into your memory before you even realized it would, Ara’s small hands gripping the tool beside his larger ones, the contrast striking, beautiful, impossible to look away from.
They worked, if it could even be called that for a while. Mostly Jisung pretending to fix things he’d already tightened, Ara “helping” him like it was the most important job in the world.
You found yourself laughing quietly when she looked back at you, grinning from ear to ear.
“Mama, look!” she said proudly. “I’m fixing cars!”
Your eyes met Jisung’s over her head. For a moment, there was nothing else, no years lost, no anger, no lies. Just this small, ridiculous, perfect moment.
He smiled back, faint and uncertain, but real.
When Ara finally started to yawn, clutching her bunny again, Jisung wiped his hands and crouched down to her level. “Looks like my little helper’s all tired out.”
Ara nodded sleepily. “Do cars get tired too?”
“Yeah,” he said quietly, brushing a bit of dust from her sleeve. “Everyone does.”
She blinked up at him. “You should sleep too, Mr. Mechanic.”
You bit the inside of your cheek to keep from smiling.
“I’ll try,” he said. “But I work better when I’ve got good company.”
Ara giggled softly before you scooped her into your arms. “Say thank you, Ara.”
“Thank you,” she murmured into your shoulder. “For fixing cars and hearts.”
The words hit both of you harder than they should have.
You turned before Jisung could see the emotion rising in your eyes. “We’ll get out of your way,” you said, your voice steadier than you felt.
He only nodded, his gaze still fixed on Ara, that soft, wordless awe in his expression.
You carried her out, her small hand tangled in your hair as she dozed off. As the door shut behind you, Jisung stayed where he was, staring at the empty space she’d left, one hand still hovering near the car engine as if he was afraid to let go.
He didn’t. Not for a long time.
-
By the time you got home, the sun had already slipped behind the hills, and the sky was bruised purple fading into blue. The air was soft, humming with cicadas and the faint rustle of leaves outside the kitchen window. Ara was drowsy in her car seat, clutching her bunny to her chest, her little head nodding forward every few minutes before jerking back up again, like she didn’t want to miss a thing.
You carried her inside, her arms looped lazily around your neck, her breath warm against your collarbone. You could still smell the faint hint of motor oil clinging to her hair, that scent that used to follow you home years ago when you’d wait for Jisung to lock up his shop.
It hit you harder than you wanted it to.
You set Ara down gently on her bed, brushing her hair out of her face as she yawned wide, blinking sleepily at you. Her bunny was tucked under one arm, its worn floral ears peeking out between her fingers.
“Did you have fun today, baby?” you asked softly, sitting beside her.
Her sleepy smile was instant, dreamy and full. “Uh-huh. Mr. Mechanic is funny,” she said, her voice small, already fading with fatigue. “He knows everything about cars.”
You smiled faintly, smoothing your thumb over her cheek. “He’s pretty good at what he does, yeah.”
Ara snuggled deeper into her blankets, the corners of her mouth lifting in a quiet, secret smile. “He let me help him. He said I was a good helper.”
You laughed quietly. “I’m sure you were. You’re always a good helper.”
There was a small pause as she rolled over, her bunny squished between her cheek and the pillow. You could tell she wasn’t done talking, her voice had that restless, drifting quality that came right before she fell asleep.
“Mommy?”
“Yes, sweetheart?”
She turned her head just enough to look up at you. Her eyes were half-lidded but still bright with curiosity, that same curiosity that never seemed to rest.
“Can we see him again?” she asked.
The question was innocent, simple, but it still managed to steal the breath from your lungs. You hesitated, fingers stilling in her hair.
Ara waited, blinking up at you, small and patient in the way children could be when they asked for something they didn’t yet understand the weight of.
You exhaled softly through your nose, trying to smile. “We can,” you said finally. “But remember, he works a lot. We can’t keep bothering him all the time, okay?”
Ara nodded, her face serious in the way that only a child’s could be. “Okay. I’ll be quiet. I’ll just watch him fix the cars.”
Your heart twisted, painfully and sweetly all at once. “I’m sure he wouldn’t mind you talking to him,” you said softly. “But maybe we’ll let him rest sometimes too, hm?”
“Mmhm.” She yawned again, a soft little sound that made your chest ache.
You thought maybe that was it, that she’d drift off now and give your mind a chance to rest too. But then she spoke again, voice faint but sure, muffled against her bunny.
“I really like him.” You froze.
Ara continued, unaware of how her words were slicing through you. “He smiles a lot. He doesn’t make loud noises like other people. He talks nice. I like him.”
Something trembled deep inside you. You didn’t know if it was guilt, or warmth, or something in between. Maybe all of it.
You reached out and brushed a curl away from her forehead, forcing a smile you didn’t quite feel steady enough to wear. “I like him too,” you admitted quietly.
Her eyes fluttered closed, her hand finding yours and holding it loosely. “Can we see him lots, Mommy?”
You hesitated for a long time, staring at her tiny hand wrapped around your fingers.
There were so many things you could’ve said. You could’ve reminded her that he was just a mechanic you knew. You could’ve told her that grown-ups were complicated, that sometimes people cared about each other but couldn’t stay close. But she was four. She didn’t need all that. She didn’t need your ghosts.
So instead, you smiled and squeezed her hand.
“Yeah,” you whispered, voice trembling just a little. “We’ll see him often. From now on.”
She smiled, eyes already drifting shut for good this time.
You stayed there beside her for a long while, watching the slow rise and fall of her chest, the tiny curls spilling across her pillow. You traced the edge of her bunny’s ear, your mind racing where your heart refused to go.
“From now on,” you repeated under your breath, though this time it didn’t sound like a promise you made to Ara.
It sounded like one you made to him.
You sighed and leaned back, running a tired hand over your face.
You weren’t sure what tomorrow would bring, if Jisung would keep his distance, or if you would. But one thing you knew now, deep in your bones, was that Ara’s world had already started to shift.
You stood by Ara’s door for a long moment, your hand resting lightly on the frame, listening to the faint rhythm of her breathing. The weight of her earlier words, I really like him, Mommy, still echoed in your chest, warm and aching all at once.
When you finally turned to head downstairs, the wooden steps creaked under your feet. You didn’t bother to turn on the lights; the glow from the streetlamps outside was enough to paint the living room in soft amber. The air smelled faintly of lavender from the candle you’d blown out hours ago, mixed with the sharper edge of the night air seeping through the old house.
You reached the bottom of the stairs and froze.
Through the glass of the front door, you could see a shadow, a tall, familiar silhouette standing on your porch, shifting slightly, like he wasn’t sure whether to leave or knock.
Your heart jumped into your throat.
Jisung.
You didn’t even think. Your hand moved on its own, unlocking the door and pulling it open before your brain could tell you not to.
He turned, eyes widening in surprise. The porch light caught his face, and you saw the faint exhaustion around his eyes, the kind that came from pacing, from overthinking, from not sleeping.
“Hey,” he said quietly, his voice low, rougher than usual. “I—uh—I was about to knock, but I wasn’t sure if I should or not.”
You crossed your arms automatically, not in defiance but in defense. “If you were here, you probably should’ve knocked.”
A faint, almost sheepish smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. “Yeah. Guess so.”
There was a pause, long enough to make the air feel heavier.
“Did you need something?” you asked finally, keeping your tone even.
He hesitated, rubbing the back of his neck. “Could we just… talk?” he asked. “No yelling. No fighting. I just—there’s stuff about Ara I think we should talk about. About what this means now.”
You blinked slowly, studying him. The sincerity in his voice disarmed you more than you wanted to admit.
You said nothing, just stepped back and opened the door wider.
His shoulders dropped, a quiet exhale leaving him. “Thanks,” he murmured, stepping inside.
He paused in the entryway, hands shoved into his jacket pockets. The house was still half-unpacked, boxes against the walls, a few of Ara’s toys scattered near the couch, and a stack of framed photos leaning against the hallway table waiting to be hung.
“I, uh… I should’ve brought something,” he said suddenly, awkwardly. “I heard about your mom. I meant to stop by sooner, I just—didn’t know if I should.”
You shook your head, swallowing the small lump that formed in your throat. “It’s okay. Really.”
He nodded, still awkward, eyes darting around like he didn’t know where to stand. But then he stopped.
At the end of the hallway, his gaze caught on something. The pictures.
He took a few steps closer, crouching slightly to look at them. His breath hitched softly, and you found yourself moving to stand beside him before you could stop yourself.
They were photos of Ara from her first year, small and soft and perfect. Her eyes still carried that sleepy newness to the world, her smile wide and toothless. There was one of her sitting in her high chair with mashed bananas smeared across her cheeks. Another of her asleep on your chest in a hospital blanket, so tiny she barely took up space.
“That’s her,” you said quietly, your voice barely more than a whisper.
Jisung’s eyes didn’t leave the photos. “She was beautiful,” he murmured. “Still is.”
You swallowed, blinking hard. “Yeah. She… she really was.”
He turned to you slowly, his expression soft but unreadable. “What was she like?”
The question caught you off guard. No one had ever asked it like that before, not your sister, not your friends, not even the kind strangers who helped you when you first moved away. But Jisung asked it like it mattered. Like he needed to know.
You took a small breath, letting your eyes rest on the photograph of her swaddled in your arms. “She was a really good baby,” you said, the words coming easier the longer you spoke. “Quiet. She didn’t cry much, not even at night. She slept through early like she just… knew I needed her to.”
You gave a small laugh, shaking your head. “Maybe she could tell I didn’t have anyone else. Or maybe she just had this calmness from the start. I used to think she was trying to make it easier on me.”
Jisung’s throat moved as he swallowed, his voice rough when he finally spoke. “You did all that by yourself?”
You nodded. “Yeah. I had help from a nurse for a little while—she was there when Ara was born. But after that, it was just us.”
He looked back at the photos, jaw tightening just slightly. “You shouldn’t have had to do that alone.”
The words hit you somewhere deep, somewhere you thought had gone numb a long time ago. You glanced at him, and for a second you saw the Jisung you used to know. The one who made promises even when he didn’t know how to keep them. The one who meant well, even when he didn’t always show it.
“I managed,” you said quietly. “We managed.”
He nodded, eyes still locked on Ara’s baby photo, the one where she was grinning up at the camera, all gums and joy. He crouched slightly, running a hand through his hair. “She looks… happy.”
“She is,” you said softly. “She’s a happy kid.”
He smiled faintly. “Guess she got that from you.”
You laughed once, shaking your head. “I don’t know about that.”
He looked up at you then, and for a brief moment, neither of you spoke. The house hummed quietly around you, the refrigerator, the soft tick of the hallway clock, the gentle creak of the floor settling.
It wasn’t the kind of silence that begged to be filled. It was the kind that said everything without needing words.
Jisung finally broke it, his voice low, steady. “Thank you. For letting me see this. For letting me… be here.”
You met his gaze, your chest tight but warm. “She deserves to know you,” you said softly. “And you deserve to know her.”
Something flickered behind his eyes hope, guilt, relief. Maybe all of it.
He nodded once, almost to himself. “I won’t mess it up this time,” he said quietly.
You didn’t answer. But for the first time in years, you didn’t feel like you had to doubt him.
The two of you stood there, side by side, staring at the photographs on the floor, fragments of a life you both helped create, but only one of you had lived until now.
And somewhere upstairs, Ara sighed in her sleep, her small voice drifting faintly through the quiet house soft, peaceful, unaware of how much had changed in a single night.
After a few minutes standing in the hallway, you finally exhaled and motioned toward the kitchen. “Come on,” you said softly. “If we’re going to talk, let’s sit.”
Jisung followed you wordlessly. The faint squeak of his boots against the hardwood filled the silence between you. The kitchen light was dim, a single bulb humming above the table. There were two mugs on the counter, one you’d used earlier for tea, and another still sitting in the dish rack. You grabbed it out of habit, filling both with the coffee that had gone cold in the pot.
You slid one across the table toward him. “It’s not fresh,” you said. He took it anyway. “Doesn’t matter.”
For a while, neither of you spoke. The air between you was thick not angry anymore, just full of things left unsaid. You traced the rim of your mug with your thumb, waiting, wondering if he’d start.
It was Jisung who finally broke the silence. “I didn’t sleep last night,” he admitted. His voice was quiet, the kind of quiet that comes when someone’s trying not to sound emotional. “I kept thinking about her. About you. About how I didn’t even know she existed.”
You stared down at your mug. “I didn’t mean for it to happen this way.”
“I know.” He leaned back slightly, exhaling. “I just… I keep thinking how different everything could’ve been.”
You shook your head, almost smiling, though there wasn’t much humor in it. “Different doesn’t always mean better, Jisung. You weren’t ready back then. Neither of us were.”
He frowned, eyes lowering. “You think I wouldn’t have stepped up?”
“I think you didn’t even know what stepping up meant at the time,” you replied gently. “You were always gone. Always working, or with your friends, or… avoiding being home. I was barely holding it together. The night I left—” You stopped, catching the tremor in your own voice. “The night I left, I knew if I told you I was pregnant, you’d promise to change. And maybe you would have. For a while. But not because you were ready. Because you felt guilty.”
He rubbed the back of his neck, his jaw tightening. “That’s not fair.”
“It’s honest.”
He didn’t argue. He just sighed, a long, tired sound. “I was an idiot,” he said finally. “I didn’t know what I was doing, and I thought I had time to figure it out. I didn’t realize time was something I was wasting.”
Your heart clenched. You weren’t used to hearing him talk like that not defensive, not cocky, just… honest.
“She’s amazing, you know,” you said quietly. “Ara. She’s curious and kind and she has this way of making everyone around her soften without even trying. She asks questions all the time, about everything. Sometimes I think she’s too smart for her own good.”
Jisung smiled faintly, the tension in his shoulders easing just a little. “Yeah. I noticed. She talks like she’s been on this earth twice already.”
You laughed softly. “You’re not wrong.”
The laughter faded into a comfortable quiet. You sipped your coffee. He did too, even though it was cold. Then, carefully, he asked, “Can I be in her life? I mean—really be in it. Not just as the guy who fixed your car.”
You met his eyes. There was no hesitation there anymore, only sincerity. Fear, maybe, but also determination.
“She deserves that,” you said slowly. “She deserves to know her dad.”
Relief flickered across his face, though it was quickly followed by guilt. “But?” he asked, hearing the unspoken part.
“But she doesn’t know yet,” you said softly. “She still thinks her dad works far away. I don’t want to just tell her everything all at once. I need to make sure she’s ready. I need to make sure you’re ready.”
He nodded, biting the inside of his cheek. “I’ll wait,” he said quietly. “However long it takes. I don’t care how slow it goes, as long as she knows me eventually.”
You studied him for a long moment. His voice was steady, but you could see it, the guilt behind his eyes, the ache that hadn’t left since last night. For the first time since you’d seen him again, he didn’t look like the boy you left behind. He looked like a man who had learned what loss actually meant.
“Okay,” you said finally. “Then we take it slow.”
Jisung nodded, and for a moment, neither of you moved. You could hear the faint hum of the refrigerator again, the soft tick of the clock.
When he finally stood, you stood too. He lingered by the door, one hand on the knob. “Thank you,” he said quietly. “For letting me talk. For letting me… see her. I know I don’t deserve that yet.”
You shook your head. “It’s not about what you deserve. It’s about what she deserves.”
He gave a small, almost broken smile. “Still sounds like something you’d say.”
You smiled too, but it was faint, tired. “Get some rest, Jisung.”
He nodded once. “You too.”
He stepped outside, the cool night air brushing against your face as he left. You watched him walk down the path to his car, his hands shoved in his jacket pockets, head bowed. He didn’t look back, but you knew he wanted to.
When you closed the door, the house felt quieter than before. You leaned against it for a long moment, the warmth of the conversation still sitting somewhere deep in your chest. Upstairs, Ara stirred softly in her sleep, a small sound, peaceful and untroubled.
-
The next morning felt almost… normal. The kind of quiet, easy morning that came after a storm, when the air still smelled faintly of rain, but everything had settled. Ara had gone off to school humming to herself, her bunny tucked under one arm and a granola bar in the other. You were finally home alone, folding laundry, sipping lukewarm coffee, and pretending you weren’t waiting for something.
You didn’t know what you were waiting for exactly, maybe a sign that last night hadn’t just been another emotionally exhausting blur.
Then your phone buzzed.
You glanced over, half-expecting a message from work or your sister. But the name that popped up on your screen made your stomach twist.
Unknown Number: Is this the right number?
You froze. You didn’t need to ask who it was. There was only one person who would text you like that blunt, half unsure, half confident he was right anyway. You smiled despite yourself.
You: How did you even get my number?
It took less than a minute for him to reply.
Jisung: Can’t tell you. Trade secret. Jisung: And before you accuse anyone, your sister has nothing to do with this.
You laughed out loud, shaking your head as you set your phone on the counter. He must have definitely run into her. There was no other way. She’d always had a soft spot for Jisung said he was “a pain in the ass, but a charming one.”
You: Right. Totally believe that.
There was a short pause, and then:
Jisung: Okay, so I need help.
You frowned, thumb hovering over the keyboard.
You: With what?
Three dots appeared. Then a photo came through. Then another. And another.
You blinked, scrolling through them.
He was clearly at a store, the toy section, judging by the bright shelves and cartoon packaging in the background. Each picture was worse than the last: a sequined pink dress clearly three sizes too big, a toy truck shaped like a dinosaur, and a doll that looked like it had been through several world wars.
Jisung: I’m new to this. Don’t judge me. Jisung: Would she like any of these?
You bit your lip, trying not to laugh. You could almost see him there, standing in the middle of the aisle, frowning at the shelves, his phone tilted in one hand as he tried to pretend he wasn’t completely out of his depth.
You: You have terrible taste.
There was a pause. Then a single message popped up:
Jisung: 😒
You laughed harder this time, covering your mouth. He hadn’t changed, still quick to get mock-offended, still boyish when he wanted to be.
You: She likes anything. Really. Especially if she knows it’s a gift. You: She loves surprises.
The typing bubble lingered for a moment.
Jisung: Good to know. Jisung: Guess I’ll have to figure out what kind of surprise then.
You stared at that message longer than you meant to. Something about the way he said it simple, casual made your chest tighten. Because underneath the playfulness, you could feel the sincerity. He was trying. For Ara. Maybe for you, too.
You leaned back against the counter, smiling to yourself.
You: Don’t go overboard, Jisung. Jisung: No promises.
You rolled your eyes but couldn’t stop the small warmth spreading through you. The same man who once couldn’t remember to text you back for days was now standing in a toy aisle, asking what your daughter, his daughter might like.
You stared at your phone for a while after the messages stopped, scrolling back through the photos again. Somewhere between the blurry doll and the mismatched dresses, you realized that this, this fumbling attempt to be part of Ara’s world was Jisung’s way of saying I’m here now.
And for the first time in years, you believed him.
- Ara was in the living room, sprawled out on the floor, coloring with her crayons while humming softly under her breath. The sound was comforting, the kind of gentle background noise that made the house feel alive again.
You were in the kitchen rinsing a few dishes, the faint hum of the TV drifting in from the other room, when you heard a knock on the door.
It wasn’t a hesitant knock, but it wasn’t loud either, firm enough that you knew it was someone who didn’t want to wake Ara if she was asleep.
Your stomach dropped before you even looked.
You dried your hands on the nearest towel, heart thudding faster with every step toward the door. You didn’t know why you were nervous, you did know, actually but it didn’t stop the feeling.
When you opened it, there he was.
Jisung stood there holding two paper bags, one in each hand with a look on his face that was halfway between proud and sheepish. His hair was a little messy, like he’d run his hand through it a dozen times before knocking. His work jacket was unzipped, a soft gray hoodie underneath.
“Hey,” he said.
It was almost soft, hesitant, like he wasn’t sure if he was welcome.
You blinked. “Hey. What’s all that?”
He glanced down at the bags, suddenly awkward. “Uh… peace offerings?”
You frowned but felt the corners of your mouth twitch. “Peace offerings?”
He shrugged, a faint smile tugging at his lips. “You said Ara likes surprises. So… surprise.”
Before you could say anything, Ara’s voice echoed from the living room.
“Mommy, who is it?”
Her little footsteps padded quickly toward you, and when she saw him, her eyes went wide.
“Jisung!” she squealed, practically bouncing in place.
You didn’t even have time to react before she ran straight for him, bunny tucked under her arm, and he bent down just in time to catch her in a hug.
The look on his face that pure, startled kind of wonder hit you right in the chest.
“Hey, kid,” he said, his voice soft and full of something warm. “Got something for you.”
He set one of the bags down and carefully pulled out a small box wrapped in shiny paper. The wrapping job was… terrible. The tape was uneven, one corner sticking up, and it looked like he’d wrestled with it for a good ten minutes before giving up.
Ara didn’t care. Her eyes were glowing as she took it from him, holding it like it was made of gold. She tore it open immediately, and the moment the box was free, she gasped so loud you almost laughed.
It was a dress, soft pink with little embroidered daisies along the skirt. Simple, but beautiful. Not too frilly, not too plain. It looked exactly like something you would’ve picked out for her yourself.
“Can I wear it now?” she asked, already clutching it to her chest.
You smiled, shaking your head. “Maybe later, baby. It’s really pretty, huh?”
She nodded so hard her curls bounced. “It’s sooo pretty!”
Jisung was grinning, almost shyly, rubbing the back of his neck. “I, uh… wasn’t sure. I almost went with something pink and sparkly, but I figured maybe she’s more into… this?”
You met his gaze. “You guessed right.”
He looked down, his smile flickering softer, almost bashful. “Lucky guess.”
Before you could say more, Ara spotted the second bag still in his hand. “What’s that one?”
Jisung laughed. “You have good eyes, huh?”
He crouched down again and opened the second bag. Out came two small toy cars one red, one yellow and a plastic toolkit meant for kids. Ara gasped again, eyes wide, and then immediately started making vroom noises, running them across the floor.
“Oh my gosh!” she said, completely breathless. “They look like the ones in your shop!”
“They’re yours now,” Jisung said softly, smiling as he watched her.
You leaned against the doorway, arms crossed, unable to fight the fond smile tugging at your lips. You couldn’t remember the last time you’d seen Ara this excited. She was talking so fast she was tripping over her words, jumping from one toy to another.
Jisung’s eyes followed her every move, a quiet smile tugging at his lips that you hadn’t seen in years. It was different from the way he used to smile back then, not cocky or teasing but gentle. Almost reverent.
When Ara ran to her room to show her bunny the new toys, the house fell quiet again.
You spoke first. “You didn’t have to do all this.”
He shrugged, his voice quiet. “I wanted to.”
You sighed softly, your hand brushing through your hair. “Still. You’re spoiling her already.”
He smirked faintly. “Guess I’m making up for lost time.”
The words hung heavy between you not sharp, not bitter. Just… true.
You didn’t know what to say, so you nodded. “She’s really happy. That means a lot.”
He looked at you for a long moment, then nodded too. “Yeah. It means a lot to me too.”
The sound of Ara’s laughter drifted down the hall again, breaking the silence, and Jisung smiled faintly, glancing toward her room before his gaze came back to you.
And in that brief, quiet moment, you realized something had shifted. The tension between you wasn’t gone, it never would be but it wasn’t all anger anymore. There was something else now. Something gentler, still bruised, still scared… but undeniably hopeful.
It started innocently enough with Ara bouncing out of her room, her new dress clutched in her arms and her voice echoing through the hallway.
“Can Jisung stay for dinner?” she blurted, as if the idea had been sitting on her tongue, waiting for the perfect moment to escape.
You blinked, caught completely off guard. “Dinner?”
“Please?” she said, drawing out the word in that pleading tone you knew all too well. Her eyes were bright, full of hope. “We have spaghetti, right? You always make too much!”
You opened your mouth to respond, to find the polite, reasonable way to say no but she wasn’t finished.
“I can show him my drawings!” she added, twirling her bunny in one hand, the other tugging on Jisung’s sleeve. “And he can tell me if cars can look like the ones I made!”
You looked at her, then at Jisung. He looked startled, his mouth parting slightly like he wasn’t sure if he should say anything at all.
“Ara…” you started softly, “I’m sure Jisung has things to do. He’s probably tired.”
Before Jisung could even open his mouth, Ara pouted, that dramatic, heart-melting kind of pout that could make even the strictest person bend.
“Please, Mommy? Just dinner.”
You sighed, already feeling yourself crumble. One glance at her face, then another at Jisung, who looked like he didn’t know whether to step in or stay quiet and the decision was made for you.
“Alright,” you said finally, shaking your head. “Just dinner.”
Ara squealed, clapping her hands. “Yay!”
Jisung blinked, rubbing the back of his neck, a shy smile tugging at his lips. “You sure? I don’t want to—”
“You’re already here,” you said, more curtly than you meant to. Then, softer, “Might as well stay.”
He nodded, the corners of his mouth twitching upward. “Alright then.”
-
Dinner turned out warmer than you expected.
Ara planted herself at the dining table, narrating every part of her day as you moved around the kitchen. You worked quietly, still a little tense, stirring sauce, boiling pasta, the familiar motions grounding you.
Jisung stood a few feet away, awkward at first, like he didn’t know where to put his hands. But when he noticed you juggling a hot pot and a dripping strainer, he stepped in without a word.
“Here,” he said, reaching for the colander. “I got it.”
You hesitated but handed it over, muttering a quiet, “Thanks.”
He drained the pasta, the steam curling up between you, carrying the faint scent of garlic and tomatoes. You caught him glancing at you once or twice, subtle, unsure before he set everything down and started setting the table without you asking.
“You don’t have to—”
“I want to,” he interrupted, gentle but firm.
So you let him.
You watched as he moved around your kitchen like it was foreign ground, yet somehow familiar. He fumbled a bit finding the plates, chuckled under his breath when Ara told him where you kept the forks “Middle drawer, Jisung! Mommy always puts them there!”
And somewhere in the middle of it all between the clatter of dishes and Ara’s steady stream of chatter you realized how easily he fit into the space. How natural it felt, even though it shouldn’t.
By the time you all sat down, the sun had slipped below the horizon, casting a golden haze across the dining room. Ara was still talking, about school, about her drawings, about the new toy cars and Jisung listened like every word mattered.
He laughed when she told him about her “imaginary garage,” the one she’d built out of cardboard boxes and crayons. “Sounds like you’re a better mechanic than I am,” he teased.
Ara grinned proudly, twirling spaghetti on her fork. “You can work there too if you want!”
“Oh yeah?” he said, leaning forward, humoring her. “You hiring?”
She nodded seriously. “But you have to fix pink cars too.”
He chuckled. “Deal.”
You sat across from them, quietly smiling into your glass of water. Watching them together was strange, comforting and painful all at once. The way she leaned toward him, the way he smiled at her, the way her laughter filled the spaces that used to feel empty, it all felt like watching something click into place that had been missing for too long.
You caught yourself staring more than once. And every time you did, Jisung’s gaze seemed to find yours fleeting, unsure, but full of something neither of you dared to name yet.
After dinner, Ara insisted on showing him her drawings, car sketches on printer paper with scribbled names like Sparkle Machine and Vroomy. Jisung knelt beside her, pointing out details, pretending to study them like a professional.
You leaned against the doorway, arms crossed, smiling softly. For a moment, the years between you didn’t feel so wide.
He looked up once and your eyes met. He didn’t say anything, but he didn’t need to.
You both knew what that silence meant.
The sound of Ara’s giggle broke it. She’d drawn a picture of the three of you, her in the middle, holding hands with “Mommy” and “Jisung.”
You exhaled slowly, your chest tight and aching.
Jisung smiled faintly, his voice soft. “You’re a really good artist, Ara.”
“Thanks,” she said proudly. “That’s us! We look happy.”
And you didn’t know whether to laugh or cry at how true that sounded.
Dinner had ended with laughter, crumbs on the table, and Ara chattering endlessly as you collected dishes. You told her it was time to settle down, that cartoons before bed weren’t part of her routine, but she was already dragging Jisung toward the couch, her little bunny tucked under one arm.
“Just one episode!” she pleaded, grinning up at you from where she’d perched herself beside him.
You rolled your eyes with a sigh, but the corners of your lips betrayed you. “Fine. One.”
She squealed and grabbed the remote before you could change your mind.
You turned away to the kitchen, washing dishes that didn’t really need washing, folding towels that were already folded, doing anything to keep your hands busy while your eyes kept drifting to the living room.
From where you stood, you could see them clearly: Jisung leaned back against the couch, one arm resting on the cushion behind Ara as she pointed at the screen and giggled. He didn’t seem to understand half of what was happening in the cartoon, but he laughed anyway, that quiet, warm laugh that filled the room without trying to.
Something about the sight made your chest ache.
You tried not to linger on it, tried not to think about how natural they looked together. How peaceful Jisung seemed, how easy Ara’s laughter came when he was near.
So you busied yourself, moving from the sink to the counter to the dining table, wiping things that didn’t need wiping, rearranging napkins just to stay occupied.
When you looked up again, the cartoon’s noise had softened. The volume was low, almost muted, and the rhythmic pattern of the end credits played softly through the room.
Jisung was still there, but Ara wasn’t talking anymore.
She was fast asleep, her small body curled against his chest, bunny tucked between them. Her head rested just below his chin, her breathing even and slow.
Jisung didn’t move at first. He just stared down at her, his hand resting lightly on her back, like he was afraid to break the moment. You could see the faint tremor in his chest, the way he exhaled carefully, deeply, as if realizing something he wasn’t sure how to process.
Then, quietly, he called your name.
You walked over, drying your hands on a dish towel. “Yeah?”
“She’s out,” he murmured, smiling softly. “Should I—?”
You hesitated only a second before nodding. “You can carry her. I’ll show you to her room.”
He nodded once, careful and deliberate as he slid his arm beneath her. Ara stirred faintly but didn’t wake, mumbling something incoherent as she nestled into him. Jisung adjusted her easily like he’d been doing it all his life and followed you down the short hallway toward her room.
The moment he stepped inside, his entire demeanor changed. He moved slower, quieter, eyes taking in every little detail, the soft night-light in the corner, the stuffed animals lined neatly across the bed, the faint lavender scent that filled the space.
You pulled the blanket back for him, and he gently laid Ara down, her bunny clutched to her chest.
You watched as he brushed a few strands of hair from her forehead, his hand trembling just slightly. Then he stepped back, letting out a long, quiet breath that sounded half relief, half heartbreak.
“I never thought…” he began, his voice low, almost hoarse. “I never thought I’d carry my daughter to bed.”
You exhaled softly, leaning against the doorframe. “You did good.”
He gave a faint laugh, shaking his head. “She’s amazing. I still can’t believe she’s—” He stopped himself, swallowing hard. “She’s ours.”
You smiled small, genuine. “She’s something else, that’s for sure.”
He followed you out, closing the door behind him as quietly as possible. For a moment, neither of you moved. You just stood there in the dim hallway, the air thick with exhaustion and something unspoken.
“Coffee?” you asked finally, just to break the silence.
He smiled faintly. “At this hour?”
You shrugged. “You’ve already stayed this long.”
In the kitchen, you poured two mugs one black, one with cream, remembering how he used to take it. He noticed immediately, his eyes flicking up to meet yours.
“You remembered,” he said.
You ignored the way your stomach flipped. “Habit.”
He chuckled. “Right.”
What started as small talk about Ara, about her drawings, about her new fixation with cars slowly unraveled into something softer. You talked about the early days: her first word, her favorite foods, her stubborn streak that reminded you so much of him it almost hurt.
He listened intently, a faint smile playing on his lips, his thumb tracing the rim of his mug.
“She sounds a lot like you,” he teased quietly after a while.
You raised an eyebrow. “Me?”
“Yeah,” he said with a smirk. “Bossy. Talks too much. Knows everything.”
You scoffed, crossing your arms. “You forgot brilliant and patient.”
He laughed, a real laugh this time, one that softened his whole face. “Yeah, that too.”
The sound filled the quiet house, and you found yourself laughing along, shaking your head.
You didn’t even realize how much time had passed until your phone buzzed on the counter, the clock flashing past midnight.
“Wow,” you muttered, rubbing your temples. “You’ve officially overstayed your welcome.”
Jisung smiled sheepishly, standing and stretching his arms. “Guess I got carried away.”
“You think?” you teased, following him to the door.
He stopped there, hand on the knob, turning back to look at you. The light from the hallway caught the tired edges of his expression but there was warmth there too. Something familiar.
“Thanks for… letting me stay,” he said quietly. “And for tonight. For everything.”
You nodded. “You’re welcome.”
He hesitated, then added softly, “It was nice. Talking again.”
You looked at him for a long moment before answering. “Yeah,” you said finally. “It was.”
He smiled, small but genuine, before slipping out into the cool night air. You closed the door after him, leaning your forehead against it for just a second, breathing him out of your chest.
Then you turned toward the hallway, the faint sound of Ara’s soft breathing drifting from her room, and whispered to yourself half a sigh, half a confession.. It was nice.
-
The shop was too quiet for a Thursday. The kind of quiet that made Jisung’s thoughts too loud.
The half-repaired engine in front of him hissed faintly, the smell of oil and steel heavy in the air, but he wasn’t focused. His wrench hung loosely in his hand, knuckles smudged with grease, his body at the shop, his mind somewhere else entirely.
He’d been useless lately. Couldn’t finish a full job without checking his phone, couldn’t focus for more than a few minutes before a memory crept in, Ara’s laugh, her small hand tugging on his sleeve, the way she’d asked a dozen questions about engines with eyes full of wonder.
And then there was you.
The way you had smiled that night, soft and tired, but genuine. The way your laugh still had the same cadence it did years ago like it was pulling something buried in him to the surface.
He groaned, dragging his gloved hand down his face. Get a grip, Han Jisung.
But the truth was, he couldn’t. Every time his phone buzzed, his pulse jumped before he could stop it. Every time he looked at the photos he’d taken, Ara standing beside the car holding his wrench like it was treasure, the little grin that mirrored his own, he felt his chest twist in ways he didn’t know how to name.
He’d been smiling too much, and it was starting to show.
He caught himself staring at his phone again, scrolling through the few photos like they were the only things keeping him sane. He wasn’t even trying to hide it anymore until the sharp slam of the shop door made him jump.
He fumbled, nearly dropping his phone into a puddle of oil.
“What the—” he muttered, spinning around.
Chan and Minho stood there, both of them looking like they’d just caught him in the middle of something he shouldn’t be doing. Chan had a knowing smirk, while Minho’s eyebrows were already halfway up his forehead.
“What’s with you?” Chan asked, crossing his arms. “You look like you just got busted doing something illegal.”
“Yeah,” Minho added, leaning against a workbench. “You’ve been MIA for weeks. And now you’re sitting here grinning at your phone like a teenager in love.”
Jisung scowled, shoving his phone into his pocket. “I’m working.”
“Sure you are,” Minho said dryly, eyeing the half-finished car. “That’s why this same engine’s been sitting here since Monday.”
Jisung exhaled loudly, rubbing at his temple. “Can you two not start?”
Chan grinned. “We wouldn’t have to if you’d just tell us what’s going on. You got a girlfriend or something?”
Jisung froze, his back stiffening before he could hide it. That was all the confirmation Chan needed.
“Holy shit, you do!” Chan laughed. “No wonder you’ve been acting like this! Who is she? Wait—don’t tell me. Is it the flirty customer? The one who—”
“It’s not,” Jisung cut in sharply.
Minho raised an eyebrow. “Then who?”
Jisung sighed, his patience thinning. “Can we not do this?”
Chan exchanged a look with Minho, then took a deliberate step closer, lowering his voice. “Come on, Ji. You’ve been off for weeks. Either you’re in love, or you’ve got a secret life we don’t know about.”
Jisung let out a rough, humorless laugh and ran a hand through his hair. “Yeah, something like that.”
Minho leaned against the counter beside him. “So which is it?”
There was a long beat of silence. The hum of the shop’s lights filled the space.
Finally, Jisung groaned under his breath, rubbing at his face. “You’re not gonna drop it, are you?”
Chan smirked. “Not a chance.”
Jisung exhaled heavily through his nose, muttering a curse before saying it, the words he hadn’t told anyone yet.
“Ara’s my daughter.”
Both of them froze.
Chan blinked. “Wait—what?”
Minho straightened, his expression hard to read. “You mean— the Ara? The kid you’ve been talking about nonstop?”
Jisung nodded slowly, his throat tightening. “Yeah. Her.”
Chan stared for a long moment, like he was trying to process the words. “Hold on. You mean Y/N’s kid? She’s actually yours?”
“Yeah,” Jisung said quietly.
“What the hell happened?” Minho asked, his tone more cautious now.
Jisung sighed and leaned back against the hood of the car, crossing his arms. “Remember when you, Chan, started talking about the timeline? About how old she was, how it lined up?”
Chan nodded slowly, eyes narrowing.
“Well,” Jisung continued, “it stuck in my head. I couldn’t stop thinking about it. The math made sense. Too much sense. And I realized I’d been too stupid not to see it sooner.”
“So what’d you do?” Minho asked.
“I drove to her place,” Jisung admitted, voice low. “Didn’t even think about it. Just—showed up. Asked her straight out.”
Chan’s eyes widened. “You what?”
“She didn’t deny it,” Jisung said, his voice quieter now, his thumb tapping against the metal beside him. “Didn’t have to. I could tell from the look on her face.”
Minho exhaled slowly, folding his arms. “Damn.”
Chan whistled softly, still stunned. “So that’s who’s been taking up all your time.”
“Yeah,” Jisung said with a tired laugh. “That’s her. And Ara.”
Chan looked at him carefully. “And now?”
Jisung shrugged, the weight of the situation pressing on his shoulders again. “Now I’m trying to figure it out. I missed five years of her life. I don’t even know where to start. I don’t want to mess it up.”
For once, neither of his friends teased. Chan just nodded slowly, his usual grin fading. Minho looked thoughtful, his tone softer when he finally spoke.
“You won’t mess it up,” he said. “You just gotta show up. That’s all she’s gonna remember — that you’re there now.”
Jisung looked down at his hands, the grease under his nails, the small cuts from work. Hands that had built engines, rebuilt cars but never once held his daughter until now.
“Yeah,” he murmured, more to himself than to them. “That’s the plan.”
But deep down, he wasn’t sure if it would ever feel like enough.
Chan finally broke the silence. “So… what’s next?”
Jisung glanced over his shoulder. “What do you mean?”
“You know what I mean,” Chan said, lowering his phone. “You told us. You finally know Ara’s yours. You’ve been seeing her, spending time with her, and Y/N’s letting you in. So what’s the plan? What comes after this?”
Minho chimed in, his voice blunt as always. “He means—when are you gonna make things official? Actually be her dad? And maybe—” he tilted his head, smirking faintly, “—try to fix things with Y/N while you’re at it.”
Jisung scoffed immediately, rubbing his palm over the back of his neck. “You guys don’t get it.”
Chan leaned forward, interested. “Then explain it to us.”
Jisung sighed and tossed the rag onto the workbench, his jaw tightening as he searched for the right words. “I’m not rushing into anything. Not with this.”
“Why not?” Minho asked, though his tone wasn’t mocking, just curious.
Jisung hesitated. His gaze fell to the floor, eyes tracing the oil stains that had marked the same spot for years. “Because if I push too hard, I’ll ruin it.”
Chan and Minho exchanged a look, both sensing the edge of fear in his tone.
He continued quietly, “Ara doesn’t know me like that. She just knows I’m the guy who fixes cars and gave her a bunny back. She’s comfortable with me right now, but if I suddenly tell her I’m her dad—what if that scares her? What if it changes everything too fast?”
Minho frowned slightly. “Kids are smarter than we think, though.”
“I know,” Jisung said, nodding. “She is. She’s amazing. But she’s still a kid. I can’t just dump years of truth on her and expect her to understand it all at once.”
Chan’s voice softened. “And Y/N?”
Jisung let out a breath through his nose, rubbing his thumb over the calloused skin of his palm. “That’s another thing. She’s been through hell doing this on her own. I can’t just show up now, pretending like I have the right to fit perfectly into their lives.”
He paused, glancing at the photos pinned up on the corkboard behind his desk, old Polaroids of the guys, a few car builds, and now, tucked discreetly in the corner, a picture Ara had drawn for him, a messy crayon car with three stick figures, one big, one small, and one holding a wrench.
“She’s letting me in, little by little,” he said softly. “I can’t risk losing that by moving too fast. I don’t want to overwhelm Ara, and I don’t want to make Y/N feel cornered. She deserves to breathe without worrying if I’m going to mess it all up again.”
Chan hummed thoughtfully. “You sound like you’ve actually been thinking this through.”
Jisung gave him a flat look. “You think I’d just wing this?”
Chan laughed, lifting his hands in mock surrender. “Okay, okay. Fair. But you also can’t drag it out forever. You don’t want Ara growing up thinking you’re just her mom’s friend who knows how to fix cars.”
Jisung nodded slowly. “Yeah. I know. I just…” His voice trailed off. “I want her to trust me first. Really trust me. I want her to know she can come to me for anything before she finds out why she can.”
Minho leaned back on his stool. “That’s… actually mature of you.”
“Don’t sound so surprised,” Jisung muttered, but a faint grin tugged at his lips.
“I’m serious,” Minho said. “You’ve always been the ‘act first, deal with it later’ guy. But this? Taking it slow, thinking it through—that’s different. It’s good.”
Jisung shrugged, feigning nonchalance but unable to hide the flicker of warmth the words sparked. “Guess being a dad’ll do that to you.”
Chan smiled knowingly. “You already sound like one.”
That earned a soft, humorless laugh from Jisung. “Yeah, well, let’s see if I can actually live up to it.”
There was a pause, heavier now, filled with quiet understanding.
Chan hopped down from the hood and clapped a hand on Jisung’s shoulder. “You will. You’re already doing better than most guys would.”
Minho nodded. “Just don’t overthink it to death. Be there. That’s what matters.”
Jisung looked up at the two of them, his friends who’d seen him at his worst, who’d told him hard truths he didn’t want to hear, who were now standing by him anyway.
He gave a small nod. “Yeah. One step at a time.”
Chan smirked, breaking the moment. “Just don’t wait another five years before making the next move.”
“Shut up,” Jisung muttered, throwing the rag at him.
It missed.
Chan laughed, Minho rolled his eyes, and for a moment, the heaviness in Jisung’s chest lightened. The fear was still there so was the uncertainty, but underneath it all was something stronger.
Hope.
For the first time in a long time, he actually had something worth taking slow.
-
The house smelled like garlic and soy and something a little sweet, maybe too sweet.
You had been moving nonstop since the afternoon, sleeves rolled up, apron tied tight, a thin layer of flour dusting your cheek like proof of how seriously you were taking this. The kitchen counter was a battlefield, cutting board cluttered, sauce simmering, two different pans you weren’t sure you needed both of, and an open cookbook flipped to a recipe you’d already abandoned halfway through.
You kept glancing at the clock.
It wasn’t even six yet, but you’d been pacing since four.
Jisung was supposed to come for dinner again. Nothing new. Nothing strange. Just dinner. Except somehow, it didn’t feel just like dinner.
It should’ve been simple, he’d been over before. He’d sat in that same seat at the table, listened to Ara ramble about her favorite cartoons, helped wash dishes after. It wasn’t unusual.
But this time, your stomach wouldn’t stop fluttering.
You wanted everything to be perfect. Then you caught yourself and realized how ridiculous that was.
With a groan, you leaned against the counter, crossing your arms. “Get a grip,” you muttered under your breath.
He wasn’t coming over for you. He was coming over for Ara. For dinner. For normalcy.
Still, your eyes flicked around the kitchen, at the table you’d already set, the flowers you’d impulsively placed in a jar, the candles you didn’t mean to light but had anyway. And suddenly it all looked like too much.
You sighed and reached to blow out the candles. The faint scent of wax and vanilla faded, leaving behind the faint hum of the refrigerator and Ara’s soft voice from the living room.
“Mommy, can you help me with my bunny’s dress?”
You peeked over the doorway. Ara was sitting cross-legged on the rug, bunny propped up in her lap, tongue poking out in concentration as she tried to tie a ribbon around its neck.
You smiled, the tension in your shoulders easing. “You’re doing great, baby. Let me just wash my hands first.”
You turned off the stove, wiped your palms on your apron, and crouched beside her. Ara handed you the ribbon with a small frown. “It’s too short. I think the bunny got bigger.”
You chuckled, tying it carefully anyway. “Maybe the bunny just ate too much cake.”
She gasped dramatically. “Like me!”
You laughed, tapping her nose. “Exactly like you.”
Her grin made something inside you melt.
For a few minutes, everything felt light again, simple. But that peace didn’t last long. As you tied the bow, your mind drifted back to the truth sitting heavy in your chest.
Ara deserved to know. She deserved to understand who Jisung really was, but how could you just say it? How do you tell a five-year-old that the man she’d grown fond of, the one who fixed her car and bought her gifts and listened so patiently, wasn’t just someone kind but her father?
You didn’t want to drop it on her suddenly. You wanted to ease her into it, gently, softly, in a way that made sense to her little world.
Maybe tonight could be the start of that.
You swallowed the knot in your throat and said, carefully, “Hey, Ara?”
She looked up, eyes wide, ribbon in her hands. “Yeah?”
“You know how Jisung’s been coming to visit us lately?” you asked, keeping your tone casual.
She nodded eagerly. “Uh-huh. He’s nice! And funny. And he knows everything about cars.”
You smiled faintly. “He does, doesn’t he?”
“Mm-hmm.”
You paused, fingers fidgeting with the ribbon. “Well… did you know that Jisung isn’t just someone who fixes cars?”
She blinked, her small brows furrowing in confusion. “He’s not?”
“No.” You hesitated for a moment, choosing your words. “He’s… someone I used to know a long time ago. Someone really important to me.”
Ara tilted her head. “Like Auntie?”
“Kind of,” you said softly. “But different. Jisung and I… we used to care about each other a lot. We were very close.”
Her eyes widened. “Like best friends?”
You smiled, the ache in your chest bittersweet. “Yeah. Like best friends.”
She grinned. “Then he’s your best friend again now!”
You laughed quietly. “Maybe. We’re trying to be.”
Ara giggled and went back to fixing her bunny’s dress, humming to herself like you hadn’t just turned your heart inside out. To her, it was simple, people who cared for each other were best friends. If only it were that simple for adults.
Still, it was a start. You’d said something. You’d planted a seed. And that was enough for tonight.
You stood, smoothing your apron and taking a deep breath. “Alright, baby, I need to finish dinner before he gets here.”
“Can I help?” she asked, hopping to her feet.
You smiled. “Of course.”
She helped you carry napkins to the table, though half of them ended up crumpled. She tasted the sauce when you weren’t looking, got caught, then giggled when you gave her your mock stern look.
By the time you were setting the last dish down, her bunny sitting proudly on one of the chairs, the nervousness had dimmed into something else, something steady.
You weren’t trying to impress him anymore. You were trying to make this work. For Ara. For all of you.
And when you heard the faint rumble of an engine outside, the one you now recognized without needing to look, your chest tightened again, but this time, it wasn’t panic.
It was hope, wrapped in the shape of a heartbeat.
You turned to Ara, brushing a hand over her hair. “He’s here, baby. Go say hi.”
She squealed and bolted for the door, and you let out a slow breath, pressing your palms against the counter.
This wasn’t about the past anymore. It was about what came next. And for the first time in years, you were ready to take the next step one careful, quiet, hopeful step at a time.
-
Jisung sat in his car longer than he meant to.
The engine was off, but the faint ticking of the cooling metal filled the silence as he stared at the paper bag in the passenger seat. Inside sat a bottle of wine he’d asked the clerk to help him pick, something that sounded more impressive than he actually knew anything about and a small bouquet wrapped in brown paper.
He had stood in the grocery store aisle for nearly twenty minutes debating what flowers to even bring. He almost went with roses, but that felt… wrong. Too loaded, too heavy with meaning neither of them was ready for. Then he considered daisies, because they reminded him of Ara bright, soft, uncomplicated but somehow that felt like cheating, like he was hiding behind his daughter to make something easier.
In the end, he chose tulips. Simple. Warm. A little hopeful.
He ran a hand over his face, sighed, and muttered to himself, “It’s just dinner.”
But even he didn’t believe that.
Because it wasn’t just dinner anymore, not after everything that had happened, not after the yelling, the late-night confrontation, the tentative peace that had followed.
You had let him back in. Not fully, not completely, but enough to give him space to try. Enough to make him realize that the line between past and present wasn’t as clear as it used to be.
He looked down at his hands gripping the steering wheel, noticed the faint tremor in his fingers, and huffed a dry laugh. He’d handled car engines worth more than a house without flinching, but this walking up to your door with flowers and a bottle of wine, somehow had him more nervous than anything else in his life.
Still, he got out of the car.
The cool evening air brushed against his skin, grounding him. The neighborhood was quiet, the kind of quiet that felt alive, faint laughter from somewhere down the street, the hum of a TV through a half-open window, the soft rhythm of leaves brushing together.
By the time he reached your doorstep, he could already hear Ara’s laughter faintly from inside light and quick and happy. The sound eased something in him.
He raised his hand to knock but hesitated.
He could still remember the last time he stood here. The way your face had looked tired, angry, guarded. The way your voice had trembled between fury and heartbreak. He didn’t want that again. Not tonight.
He wanted this to feel different. Lighter. Maybe even peaceful.
So he straightened his jacket, adjusted his grip on the bag, and finally knocked.
It took a few seconds before the door opened, and when it did, you stood there, surprised but not startled. You looked at him for a moment, then at the bag in his hand, then back at him.
He felt suddenly like a teenager again, awkward and unsure, trying not to fidget under your gaze.
“Hey,” he said, clearing his throat. “I, uh… wasn’t sure what to bring, so—” He lifted the items slightly. “I brought this. Wine. And… flowers.”
For a moment, you didn’t move. Your expression softened, just barely. Then, to his relief, a faint smile pulled at your lips.
“You didn’t have to bring anything,” you said quietly, stepping aside.
“Yeah, I figured. But, you know—” He scratched the back of his neck, half-grinning. “Didn’t want to show up empty-handed again. I’m still trying to fix my reputation.”
That earned a quiet laugh from you, and he let out a small breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding.
You took the bag from him, careful, like you weren’t quite sure what to do with it. “These are nice,” you said, fingers brushing over the tulips.
He smiled a little. “They reminded me of you.”
You froze for half a second before glancing up at him startled, maybe even a little flustered. He immediately regretted saying it out loud.
“I mean—not like—” He coughed awkwardly, looking anywhere but at you. “Just, uh, simple and… nice. Not in a weird way.”
You bit back a grin. “You’re terrible at this.”
“I know,” he muttered. “I fix cars, not conversations.”
Before either of you could say more, Ara’s small voice rang out from the living room. “Hi!” Ara came barreling down the hall, bunny in hand, grinning from ear to ear. “Jisung!”
She collided into his leg, and Jisung immediately crouched down, smiling so wide it made his cheeks ache. “Hey, kid. You miss me or something?”
She nodded furiously. “I have so many questions! I even made a list.”
He laughed, looking up at you. “A list, huh?”
You raised your hands helplessly. “Don’t look at me. She’s been talking about you since breakfast.”
Jisung’s grin softened. “Guess I better have good answers then.”
Ara grabbed his hand, tugging him toward the living room like she owned the place which, in her little world, she did. He followed easily, setting the bag on the counter as she talked about her bunny’s “car upgrades” and how she wanted to build one that could fly.
You stood a few steps behind, watching them. Watching him.
After Ara had proudly shown him her drawings and “plans,” Jisung looked back over his shoulder at you, his smile gentler now.
“Dinner smells amazing,” he said softly. “You’ve been busy.”
You shrugged, suddenly shy. “Just tried something new. No guarantees it’s edible.”
He chuckled, shaking his head. “I’m sure it’s perfect.”
And when you both caught each other’s gaze for a second longer than either meant to you, holding the flowers like they were something fragile, him standing there looking like he wasn’t sure if he should say more, the space between you filled with something wordless.
It wasn’t the same as before. It wasn’t anger or guilt. It was something smaller. Softer. The beginning of something repaired.
-
Dinner felt strangely normal. That was the part that scared you.
It wasn’t the uncomfortable silence you expected, nor was it overly cheerful. It was somewhere in between soft, warm, and just slightly awkward. Like the three of you were still learning the rhythm of being in the same room again.
The table was set neatly, too neatly, probably. You’d been meticulous earlier, fussing over the placement of plates and silverware until Ara had laughed at you and said you were “acting weird.” Maybe she was right.
Now she was sitting between you and Jisung, humming under her breath as she picked at her food.
He’d taken his jacket off earlier, sleeves rolled up, forearms dusted faintly with grease from work that even soap couldn’t scrub out completely. He looked too at home sitting at your dining table, and that familiarity made something twist in your chest.
For the first few minutes, it was just Ara talking, animatedly telling him about a cartoon she’d seen about a race car that could talk, about her plans to build one when she grew up, about how she named her bunny “Turbo” now.
Jisung listened to her with full attention, the same patience he used to have when you’d talk about your job, or your dreams, back when you were both too young to realize how fragile time was. He nodded, laughed in all the right places, even asked her questions. He looked… natural. Too natural.
“Dinner’s really good,” Jisung said after a while, breaking the quiet. “You always did know how to cook better than me.”
You glanced up, giving a half-smile. “That’s not saying much. You used to burn ramen.”
He laughed that familiar, boyish sound that used to make your heart flutter. “True. Guess I still owe you for feeding me half the time back then.”
You shrugged lightly. “You were busy. Someone had to make sure you didn’t starve.”
His laughter faded, just slightly, replaced by something heavier in his eyes. “Yeah. I was busy,” he echoed quietly.
For a few moments, the only sound came from Ara quietly humming as she arranged her vegetables into little color patterns.
Then, out of nowhere, Jisung asked, “So… when do I get to meet him?”
You blinked, confused. “Who?”
“Your boyfriend,” he said casually, too casually. “Or partner. Whatever he is.”
You almost choked on your food. Coughing lightly, you reached for your drink, swallowing hard as your pulse quickened. “My—?”
He tilted his head, tone even but eyes sharp. “You said before that you had someone. The guy who was supposed to be… around. I figured if he’s part of Ara’s life, I should probably meet him, right?”
You put your glass down slowly, trying to keep your face neutral. “About that…”
Jisung’s brows furrowed slightly as he watched you fidget. “What?”
You let out a slow breath. “I lied.”
He froze. “You what?”
You forced a small, awkward laugh. “I wasn’t really dating anyone. I made him up.”
Jisung blinked, his jaw slackening. “You—wait, you made up a whole boyfriend?”
You nodded, embarrassed but firm. “I wasn’t sure how to handle things back then. You and I weren’t exactly in the best place. I just… I thought if you ever found out about Ara, you’d assume she was his.”
Jisung leaned back in his chair, staring at you for a long, quiet moment. You could see the relief flicker across his face, though he tried and failed to hide it.
He exhaled, rubbing the back of his neck. “So, no boyfriend,” he said, almost under his breath.
You rolled your eyes, sipping your drink again. “No boyfriend.”
He chuckled softly, shaking his head. “Can’t believe you actually did that.”
You smiled faintly. “Desperate times.”
Jisung’s expression softened, his voice quieter now. “So… have you? Dated anyone? Since us?”
You looked at him, giving a pointed stare. “Why?”
He shrugged, pretending to look at his plate. “Curiosity.”
You hesitated, then nodded. “Once. About a year after Ara was born.”
He lifted his gaze back to you, quiet, waiting.
“He was… good, at first,” you said, your voice calm but distant. “He treated Ara like she was his own. I thought he was perfect. You know that kind of safe, steady person you think you’re supposed to end up with?”
Jisung didn’t answer he just watched you, jaw tight.
You gave a small, humorless laugh. “Turns out he wasn’t that perfect. I found out he was cheating.”
Jisung’s jaw clenched, eyes narrowing just slightly. “What an idiot.”
“Yeah,” you said dryly, stabbing at your food. “That’s one word for it.”
He didn’t say anything for a moment. Just sat there, shoulders tense, fingers curling around his glass like he needed to hold something steady.
You didn’t need to look at him to know what he was thinking, you could practically feel it. That quiet, burning protectiveness, the way he always got when someone hurt you.
It used to make you feel safe. Now it made you feel… complicated.
-
The air was thick with warmth when dinner ended. The kind that comes after laughter dies down but still lingers in the room. Ara was humming softly, still full of energy despite how late it was, sitting cross-legged on the floor with her crayons spread everywhere. Her bunny sat beside her, wearing the new bow Jisung had tied around its neck earlier, “to make Turbo fancy,” he’d said.
You and Jisung had agreed to clean up together, though the word agreed wasn’t exactly right, he’d insisted, and you’d given in. It was easier than arguing, and honestly… it felt nice. Domestic, even.
You stood at the sink, rinsing the plates as he dried them beside you. The rhythm was easy, you hand him one, he takes it, towel brushing the ceramic in quiet circles. Occasionally, his hand would brush yours. Neither of you said anything about it.
The kitchen was quiet except for the soft clink of dishes and Ara’s occasional giggles from the living room. It felt like a moment stolen from a life you could’ve had, the version where things didn’t fall apart, where you and Jisung grew into each other instead of away.
You tried not to think about that too much. Tried not to look at the way the light caught in his hair, how his sleeves were still rolled up, how comfortable he looked standing in your kitchen again.
Jisung was the one who broke the silence first, voice low and rough like he’d been debating something in his head for too long.
“She’s… she’s amazing, you know?” he said quietly, not looking up from the plate he was drying. “Ara.”
You smiled softly, rinsing another plate. “Yeah. I know.”
He laughed under his breath. “She’s smart. Brave too. Talks so much.” There was warmth in his tone, but also awe, the kind that only comes from love. “You did such a good job with her.”
The compliment hit you harder than you expected. You swallowed. “Thanks,” you said quietly. “It wasn’t easy.”
“I know,” he said softly. “And I wasn’t there.”
You turned your head slightly, glancing at him. His shoulders were tense now, jaw working like he was fighting words back.
You wanted to tell him not to do that, not to spiral into guilt, but before you could, he set the plate down and leaned against the counter, arms crossed loosely.
His voice was steady when he spoke again, but his eyes gave him away. They were searching, heavy with something that almost looked like fear.
“Can I ask you something?”
You hesitated, but nodded. “Yeah.”
He took a deep breath, exhaled through his nose. “Would you ever… try again? With me?”
Your hand froze under the running water. The sound of the faucet suddenly seemed too loud. You turned to him slowly, heartbeat thudding in your ears. “Jisung…”
He ran a hand through his hair, wincing. “I know. I know it’s a stupid question. And I’m not trying to push anything, I swear. I just—” He sighed, shaking his head, frustrated with himself. “Forget it. I shouldn’t have said that.”
You dried your hands quickly, turning off the water. “No, it’s not—” you started, but your voice faltered. You could feel that ache building in your throat. “It’s just… a lot.”
“I know.” His tone softened immediately. “I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.” He glanced down at his shoes, then back up at you, and there it was, the raw honesty you hadn’t seen in him for years. “I just… I want to be here. Really be here. For Ara. For you, if you’ll let me.”
You exhaled shakily, trying to find words, but he kept going quietly, carefully, like each word cost him something.
“I missed five years of her life,” he said, voice barely above a whisper. “I missed her first steps. Her first words. Her first everything. And that’s on me. But I don’t want to miss anything else.”
He looked at you, straight into you and for a second, you forgot how to breathe.
“I want to take her to school. I want to help her with her homework. I want to be there when she falls off her bike and cries, and when she gets her first crush and I scare the life out of the kid.” He smiled faintly at that, but there was something watery in it, something trembling. “I want to be her dad. Not just in name, but really. And I want to do it with you.”
You didn’t even realize your hand was gripping the counter until your knuckles hurt. You stared at him, at the honesty in his face, the way his voice cracked slightly at the end. It was too much. Too soon. Too everything.
You looked away, blinking fast. “Jisung…”
He straightened a little, swallowing hard. “I know what you’re going to say.”
“I don’t think you do,” you whispered. “It’s not that I don’t—” You stopped yourself before the words could slip out, before you could say something you weren’t ready to. “I just… Ara’s my whole world. I can’t let her get attached and then—”
“She won’t lose me,” he said quickly, voice firm but not harsh. “Not again. I’m not that guy anymore.”
You stared at him for a long time, and for a second you saw the truth in his eyes, that he meant it. That maybe, just maybe, the boy who once broke your heart had learned what it meant to hold something gently.
The silence stretched. Somewhere in the other room, Ara’s crayons rolled off the table. She giggled, the sound light and pure. It cracked something in both of you.
You sighed softly, shoulders sinking. “Can we… take it slow? For her’s sake. For all of us.”
Jisung nodded almost instantly, relief washing over his face. “Yeah. Of course. Slow’s good. Slow’s great.”
You smiled faintly. “You’ve never been patient before.”
He let out a low laugh, eyes warm. “Guess I’m learning.”
You shook your head, trying to suppress your own smile. “Good.”
When you turned back to finish drying the last dish, Jisung reached out instinctively, fingers brushing your hand before pulling back. The touch was brief, but electric, a reminder that there was still something there, buried under the years of hurt. Neither of you said anything about it. You didn’t have to.
The quiet wasn’t awkward anymore. It was soft, full of something tender and fragile, like the beginnings of forgiveness.
It was Ara’s laughter that pulled you both out of that quiet spell in the kitchen. Her little voice floated down the hallway, cheerful and full of pride.
“Mommy! Look what I made!”
You wiped your hands quickly on a towel, glancing over your shoulder toward the living room. Jisung followed behind you, still drying his palms, curiosity flickering across his face.
When you reached the living room, Ara was sitting in the middle of the rug, crayons scattered around her like fallen petals. Her bunny was propped up beside her, watching as if it were an audience of one. She held up her drawing with both hands, eyes sparkling.
“Look!” she said again, wiggling the paper so you’d hurry. “It’s us!”
You leaned down, smiling before you even really saw it, the paper was full of bright, clumsy lines and uneven circles, the kind of chaotic joy only a five-year-old could create. Three figures stood in the middle of a grassy field, all holding hands beneath a lopsided yellow sun. One small, one taller, one in the middle.
The small one had pigtails and a pink dress. The middle one had short brown hair and a smile that stretched too far across their face. The taller one had a swirl of messy hair sticking out everywhere and a gray scribble that could’ve been a jacket.
You didn’t even have to ask who was who.
You knelt beside her, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “This is beautiful, baby. Is this us?”
She nodded eagerly. “It’s me, you, and Mr. Mechanic!” she said proudly, turning to Jisung. “See? That’s you!”
Jisung blinked, taken aback for a second like he wasn’t sure how to react to being included so simply, so easily. Then he smiled, soft and a little unsteady. “You made me look really tall,” he teased gently, crouching down beside you both. “I like it.”
Ara giggled. “That’s because you are tall!”
You laughed quietly, watching the way Jisung smiled at her like every word out of her mouth was the best thing he’d ever heard.
“You should add more!” she said suddenly, pushing the box of crayons toward both of you. “We need more things! Like… a car!”
Jisung chuckled. “Of course, a car.” He picked up a blue crayon, rolling it between his fingers. “Should I draw it here?”
Ara nodded seriously, pointing to the space beside the three stick figures. “Right there!”
He bent over the paper and started sketching a round, bumpy car that was just barely recognizable as one. Ara burst into giggles.
“That doesn’t look like a car!” she teased, pressing her tiny hand over his to “help.” “It looks like a potato!”
Jisung laughed, eyes crinkling. “A potato car, huh? That’s a new one. Guess I’ll have to work on my art skills.”
You sat on the rug beside them, leaning back on your palms, smiling despite yourself. The room felt warm in a way it hadn’t in years, the laughter bouncing off the walls, the sight of Ara perched on Jisung’s lap as she guided his hand with the crayon.
“See, this is how you draw wheels,” she instructed importantly, her voice full of confidence. “Round, like this. Not lumpy!”
“Got it,” Jisung said, playing along, pretending to take mental notes. “No lumpy wheels. I’ll remember that for next time.”
When they were done, the “car” had turned into something between a cartoon spaceship and a loaf of bread, but Ara clapped her hands anyway, proud of their work.
“It’s perfect,” she said decisively, leaning back against his chest. “Now it’s finished.”
Jisung looked down at her, one arm loosely around her shoulders as she yawned. For a moment, his smile faltered, just barely and you caught it. The quiet, wistful look in his eyes. The kind that said he was trying to take in every second because he didn’t know if he’d ever get moments like this again.
And that’s when it hit you. How natural they looked together. How easy it all was.
You swallowed hard, eyes drifting back to the picture, three stick figures, a crooked sun, a potato car and something twisted in your chest.
This was what you’d wanted for Ara. Stability. Love. A home that didn’t feel half-empty. And yet, sitting there, watching Jisung laugh softly when Ara poked his cheek, you realized what scared you most wasn’t letting him in, it was losing this, if it all went wrong again.
You knew what the two of you were like at your worst. The shouting. The slammed doors. The exhaustion of trying to love someone who didn’t seem to know how to meet you halfway. Those last months before the breakup had been nothing but tension and silence. You’d cried more than you’d smiled. You couldn’t let Ara see that, couldn’t let her learn love that way.
But this? This version of him softer, grounded, patient it was new. It was unfamiliar. And it made you want to believe in him again.
You looked up to find Jisung already looking at you, a small, hesitant smile on his face. The kind that said he knew exactly what you were thinking and that he was thinking it too.
Ara yawned again, rubbing her eyes and mumbling something about wanting to hang the picture on the fridge. Jisung gently helped her up, still holding the drawing carefully like it was fragile glass.
As he taped it to the fridge door, Ara beamed, proud and sleepy. “Now it’s perfect,” she said again, turning to both of you.
Jisung smiled down at her, brushing her hair lightly. “Yeah,” he said softly. “It is.”
You didn’t say anything, just stood there, watching them both, the warmth curling up in your chest like a quiet, dangerous hope. Maybe slow wasn’t such a bad idea. Maybe, for the first time in a long while, you wanted to see where this could go.
-
The house had gone quiet again.
The kind of quiet that settled heavy and warm after a long day filled with laughter, crayons, and the faint hum of cartoons that still lingered in the air like an echo.
You’d tucked Ara in over an hour ago. She’d fallen asleep the moment her head hit the pillow, her bunny clutched under her arm and her new drawing still taped proudly to the fridge downstairs. The picture, the three of you felt like a symbol you didn’t know how to look at for too long. It made your chest ache in that way hope sometimes does.
You walked back into the living room, where Jisung was sitting on the couch. The lamp beside him cast a soft, honeyed light across the room, washing him in a warm glow that made it easy to forget the years that had passed the distance, the arguments, the heartbreak. His jacket was draped lazily over the back of the couch, his hair slightly tousled from Ara tugging at it earlier.
He looked comfortable here. Too comfortable.
You hesitated in the doorway for a moment, unsure if you were intruding on something you’d already let go of years ago. But then he looked up, catching your gaze and just like that, the hesitation softened. He gave you that same small, boyish smile that used to undo you every single time.
“Sorry,” he said quietly, rubbing the back of his neck. “I probably should’ve left an hour ago.”
You smiled faintly, folding your arms. “You say that every time.”
He chuckled, leaning back. “Yeah, I guess I do.”
You moved to sit beside him not too close, but close enough that you could feel the heat from his arm next to yours. For a moment, neither of you said anything. The quiet stretched, gentle but heavy, filled with the unspoken things hanging in the space between you.
You broke it first. “So… are you still friends with Chan and Minho?”
The corner of his mouth twitched into a grin, like the question caught him off guard. “Yeah,” he said, a small laugh slipping out. “They’re still around. Haven’t changed much either. Still loud. Still annoying.”
You laughed softly. “Figures. I don’t think anything could change them.”
“They, uh…” He glanced at you, hesitating. “They actually said they missed you.”
That made you laugh outright. “Missed me? Please. I spent half my time complaining about them stealing you away.”
Jisung laughed too, the sound low and genuine. “Yeah, I remember. You used to glare at me every time they called.”
“Because they always called,” you pointed out, giving him a teasing look. “And you always went.”
He looked down, that faint smile fading into something more thoughtful. “Yeah,” he admitted. “I did.”
You exhaled quietly, fiddling with your sleeve. “I used to tell myself I hated them. But… I think I was just lonely. I felt like I was competing with everyone for your attention.”
He looked at you then and you could see the regret flicker across his expression. “I know,” he said softly. “And I’m sorry for that. I didn’t get it back then. I thought I had time. I didn’t realize I was wasting it on the wrong things.”
The honesty in his tone caught you off guard. For once, there wasn’t any defensiveness. No excuses. Just sincerity.
You nodded, swallowing hard. “We were both kids. We didn’t know how to be anything else.”
He gave a small, rueful smile. “Still feels like I’m learning.”
You smiled too, faint, but real. “At least you’re trying now.”
Something in the air shifted then. It wasn’t dramatic. It wasn’t even obvious. It was quiet, a slow, careful tilt of the world as you met his eyes. The light between you flickered faintly, catching on the faint sheen of his eyes, the curve of his jaw. You hadn’t been this close in years, and suddenly the space between you felt too thin, too charged.
He didn’t think. You could see that in the way his breath hitched, in the way his gaze dropped to your lips for just a second before flicking back up to your eyes, searching for something. Permission. Fear. Familiarity.
And before you could say anything, he leaned in.
It wasn’t hurried. It wasn’t desperate. It was slow, hesitant like he was testing the waters of something sacred and long-forgotten. The faint smell of engine grease still clung to him, mixed with the soft scent of detergent and wine.
You could’ve pulled away. You could’ve told him no, reminded him of the boundaries you’d both promised to keep. But you didn’t.
Instead, your hand came up instinctively, fingers brushing against the curve of his cheek, warm and rough beneath your touch. His breath caught, and when your lips met his, it was like time folded in on itself.
Everything was familiar, the softness of his mouth, the way he tilted his head just so, the gentle pressure that felt like memory. But it was also new. Slower. Tender.
It wasn’t the frantic kind of kiss you used to share, the ones fueled by arguments and apologies. This one felt like a question neither of you knew how to answer.
He deepened it slightly, his hand coming up to the side of your face, thumb brushing lightly against your jaw. You let him, for just a moment until a faint creak from upstairs made your heart leap.
You broke the kiss immediately, breathless. “Wait—” you whispered, eyes darting toward the hallway.
Jisung froze, eyes wide, listening. There was a soft sound, the faintest shuffle of tiny feet, but it didn’t come closer. You exhaled slowly, a hand pressed to your chest. “I thought I heard Ara.”
Jisung nodded, still slightly dazed, his lips parted like he wanted to say something but couldn’t find the words. The silence stretched again, thick and full of everything that just happened. You could still feel the warmth of his skin on your fingertips, the ghost of his mouth on yours.
Finally, he ran a hand through his hair, exhaling sharply. “Sorry,” he muttered. “I shouldn’t have—”
You shook your head quickly. “Don’t. Don’t apologize.”
He blinked, surprised.
You met his eyes, heart pounding. “It just… it happened. That’s all.”
He nodded slowly, like he understood exactly what you meant. That it wasn’t just a kiss. It was a reminder, of what you once were, and what you still could be. But it also wasn’t a promise. Not yet.
You both sat there in silence for a long moment, the house quiet again, save for the hum of the refrigerator and the faint ticking of the clock. Finally, you stood, brushing invisible lint from your pants. “You should probably get going,” you said softly.
He hesitated, then nodded. “Yeah.”
You walked him to the door. He paused in the doorway, turning to look at you one last time, his eyes lingering like he wanted to say something more. But instead, he just offered you a small, quiet smile, the kind that carried more meaning than words could.
“Goodnight,” he said.
You nodded, voice softer. “Goodnight, Jisung.”
When the door closed, you leaned against it, your pulse still unsteady. Upstairs, the floor creaked again, Ara shifting in her sleep, maybe. You closed your eyes and took a deep breath. You weren’t sure what you’d just done. But for the first time in a long time, it didn’t feel like a mistake.
-
Jisung didn’t sleep. He tried, he really did. But every time he shut his eyes, he saw you.
The faint glow of the lamp against your skin. The way you looked at him just before he kissed you. The sound of your breath catching, not in protest, but in surprise. The way his heart had nearly leapt out of his chest when you didn’t push him away. And then the way you did, the instant that tiny noise came from upstairs, the faint creak of Ara’s door.
He had never sobered faster in his life.
He kept replaying it all, the look in your eyes, the pause that followed, the quiet way you’d told him, “You should probably get going.”
He’d heard that line before. Not in the same tone, not after the same kind of moment, but enough times to know what it meant. Distance. Boundaries. A reminder of what he wasn’t supposed to cross. And now, lying awake in the dim light of his room, he couldn’t stop thinking that maybe he’d just ruined everything. The progress. The fragile trust. The small, careful steps that had taken weeks to build.
He dragged a hand down his face, groaning. “God, you’re an idiot,” he muttered into the quiet.
He didn’t regret the kiss. Not even for a second. He could still feel the warmth of it lingering on his lips, the ghost of your touch on his cheek, the way his pulse had quickened in that soft, dizzying moment. But he regretted when. The timing. The risk. You’d only just started trusting him again, letting him in, letting Ara see him regularly. He was part of your days now, part of Ara’s little world, and he’d jeopardized it all over one impulsive, selfish moment.
He’d spent the morning at the shop on autopilot, barely functioning. Every time Seojin asked him something, he just grunted or waved him off. He couldn’t focus on the engine in front of him, couldn’t even remember which part he’d been working on.
By noon, Chan had stopped by for a tune-up, and immediately noticed.
“Ji,” Chan had said flatly, leaning against the hood of the car, arms crossed. “You look like you haven’t slept in a week.”
Jisung didn’t even bother denying it.
“Want to tell me what’s going on?”
He almost did. Almost told him about the kiss, the way his heart felt like it was splitting between guilt and hope. But the words stuck in his throat. What would he even say? That he kissed you, the woman he’d spent years regretting losing, the mother of his child, who still didn’t know if she could trust him fully?
Instead, he just shrugged, muttered something about being tired, and went back to work. But the truth was, he wasn’t tired, he was wired. Every nerve in his body felt frayed.
By evening, when the last customer left, he was slouched against his workbench, staring blankly at the same bolt he’d been pretending to fix for half an hour. The air in the shop smelled faintly of oil and rain, it had started drizzling outside, and the gray light that came with it made everything feel heavier. He was so caught up in his own head that when his phone buzzed against the metal surface, he jumped.
He grabbed it quickly, expecting some random update from Minho or another part order. But when he saw your name on the screen, his heart nearly stopped.
You: Can you come over after work? We need to talk.
He read it again. And again. And again. The words blurred a little. Not because he didn’t understand them, he did, all too well, but because they could mean anything.
And his mind, of course, immediately jumped to the worst.
He stood there for a long moment, just staring at the message. His fingers hovered over the keyboard, unsure of what to say back. Finally, he typed a simple:
Jisung: Yeah. I’ll be there.
Then he locked his phone and let out a long, shaky breath, leaning forward to rest his elbows on the workbench.
His thoughts spiraled instantly. Was this it? Was she going to tell him to stop coming around? That he crossed a line, that Ara didn’t need confusion in her life?
He hadn’t realized until now just how much the idea of losing that hurt. Ara wasn’t just his daughter in name anymore, she was his. The way she laughed when she saw him, the way she’d tug at his sleeve to show him something, the way she’d lean on him without hesitation. He’d only just begun to earn that kind of trust, to see what it felt like to have her in his life, to watch her grow, to know she looked at him with joy and not fear. And now he might’ve ruined it.
𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: christopher bahng x fem!reader, strangers to friends to lovers
𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘: based off of its nice to have a friend by taylor swift
𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐒/𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: chris is literally feeding a squirrel at the beginning, hes extroverted, reader is introverted, not proofread, series, soft angst, emotional clarity, suggestive in this chapter, confession/yearning
𝐀/𝐍: omg guys its finally happening! soz for making yall wait for so long 😭
𝐏𝐓 𝟏 𝐏𝐓𝟐 𝐏𝐓𝟑 𝐏𝐓𝟒 𝐏𝐓𝟓
𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭
You’ve been pretending not to notice it.
The way Chris looks at you when you’re laughing, like he wants to memorize the shape of your joy.
The way his hands linger when he brushes past you, like he’s testing the edge of permission.
The way he stops himself. Constantly. Gently. Painfully.
Like he’s waiting for you to decide it’s okay to want each other this much.
And maybe… you’ve been doing the same.
It’s late when it happens.
Later than it should be, honestly. One of those nights where sleep is out of reach and everything feels heavier under low light and quiet.
He’s at your place again, sitting on your bed, legs crossed in that casual, stretched-out way that makes your chest ache a little. He’s wearing a loose hoodie, sleeves bunched at the elbows, and his hair’s a mess from running his fingers through it all night.
You’re both talking, but the words don’t matter anymore.
You’re not even sure what he said last.
All you know is the pause that follows.
Heavy. Thick with everything unsaid.
And then, finally:
“Can I just say something without you pulling away?”
You blink, startled by the sudden seriousness in his tone. “Yeah. Of course.”
Chris leans forward, forearms on his knees, eyes locked on yours like he’s afraid if he blinks, you’ll disappear.
“I want you to stop pretending this isn’t real.”
The breath catches in your throat.
He doesn’t look away. Doesn’t soften it.
“I’ve been trying to hold back, but it’s getting harder every time I see you. Every time you touch me like it means something and then act like it didn’t. I don’t want to be just your almost.”
Your heart slams in your chest.
He keeps going, voice lower now. Tighter.
“I think about you all the time. I want you next to me when I fall asleep. I want your hands on me and your voice in my head and your mess in my life. I don’t want space. I want you.”
You feel like the air’s been knocked out of you.
Not because it’s too much.
But because it’s exactly what you’ve been feeling, too.
You move before you can talk yourself out of it.
Across the space. Onto the bed. Into his lap.
His hands find your waist instinctively, like he was always meant to hold you like this.
“You really mean it?” you ask, voice barely above a whisper.
He nods, eyes full of heat and something more tender underneath. “Yeah. I need you.”
Your lips crash into his, hungry and messy and so long overdue it makes your whole body ache.
There’s nothing shy about the way you kiss each other now.
This isn’t a maybe.
It’s not a what-if.
It’s yes.
It’s now.
His hands slide under your shirt. Yours tug at the hem of his hoodie. Every touch feels like something sacred.
The clothes come off slowly. Not rushed. Not careless.
Just two people who’ve waited too long finally letting go of the space between them.
The world narrows to skin and breath and soft sounds in the dark.
You land in bed tangled up in each other — warm, breathless, needed.
This time, when you fall asleep next to him, you’re not wondering what it means.
Because now, you know.
hope you enjoyed <33
todays playlist...
plot twist by tws, piece of a puzzle by seungmin and changbin, i.f.l.y by bazzi, death bed by beadadoobee and powfu, yes or no by jungkook, awkward silence by stray kids, psycho by red velvet, eve, psyche, & the bluebeards wife, double take by dhruv
“I think about you all the time. I want you next to me when I fall asleep. I want your hands on me and your voice in my head and your mess in my life. I don’t want space. I want you.”
Ughhhhhh 😫😫😫 HURT. ME. MORE.
I want your mess in my life??!?! Like!?!? What?????? What kind of a line is this and why are no in real life men saying it to me? 😭 This is my favorite part so far 😔👏
Don't be nervous about the suggestive bit, it was classy and written so well! Perfect balance of romantic and needy and descriptive without being too descriptive 😉
i am so sorry for constantly going on random writing hiatuses, i just get so busy and recently havent had the spark to write. i am active on my mutual's posts and other people's works though ! i just havent had the time to write or continue anything, i am SO sorry to keep promising that im gonna put fics out but ending up randomly disappearing off the face of tumblr 💔
its just on and off when it comes to writing for me, not only that but ive had hella exams and social gatherings that ive been going to and my life has just been potently busy.
im hoping that i can get some works out over the summer but i still dont even know if thatll come true. :( im so so so sorry for continuously going on random and undefined hiatuses, i just havent had the energy nor time to complete any of my works ;(
thank you to everyone that has stayed despite my random disappearances :) hopefully over summer i can start producing stuff again ! take care yall :3
yani's note ˖ ˙ ᰋ and i make a comeback >< when @cosmicalily requested me this, i couldn't not post it right? anything for my bb !!!! thank you so much for requesting hun, hope you like it and feel better !! i'm so sorry for anybody who has gone through something like this, please remember you're so strong. you deserve all the love. you're only healing, and sometimes it's not as quick for everyone. it will get better, definitely. anyway, my break might be coming to an end soon at this point because life is actually better now, kinda, hehe. comments, requests, asks, likes, follows and reblogs are always appreciated ! comment/ask if you want to be added to my mastertag ! happy reading <3
the night was unusually quiet, as if the universe itself had decided to hush the world into stillness. the faint hum of the city outside was softened by the gentle patter of rain against the windows, a rhythmic lullaby that often lulled you into dreams. but tonight, it couldn't. not when your mind was restless, tangled in thoughts you couldn’t untie. you hadn’t meant to disturb the peace of the bed—the warmth of your boyfriend beside you was usually enough to keep the darkness at bay. but something unspoken gnawed at you, an ache too familiar to ignore.
it was nearing 3am when he stirred, his hand instinctively reaching out to the space where you should’ve been. the emptiness startled him awake, his fingers brushing cold sheets instead of your warmth. blinking against the dim light filtering through the curtains, his heart sank when he realized you weren’t there.
the room was bathed in silver moonlight, spilling through the half-open curtains in soft, uneven waves, illuminating the chaos of their shared space. the indent of your body remained on the mattress, a shallow impression in the memory foam, stark and still. jisung’s fingers brushed the cooling fabric, the texture of the duvet suddenly foreign against his fingertips. it was as your absence had stripped the bed of its familiarity, leaving only muted reminders of you—your scent lingering faintly in the air, a whiff of your favorite vanilla and cinnamon moisturiser.
he pushed himself upright, the sheets slipping away from his chest like water pooling to his waist. the air felt sharper without you, slicing through the warmth he’d carried in his sleep. his eyes, still heavy-lidded and bleary, scanned the room, seeking you out instinctively. shadows gathered in the corners, their jagged edges softened by the moonlight. your absence grew louder with every passing second, an ache that started in his chest and crept into the pit of his stomach.
jisung swung his legs over the edge of the bed, his feet meeting the chilled floor. the hardwood creaked beneath him, a sound that might have woken you, coaxing a sleepy protest from you lips. now, it only echoed in the stillness, a reminder of how empty the space felt without you. his hands rubbed his face, chasing away the remnants of sleep as he called you softly, the syllables barely escaping his throat.
then he saw it; a faint glow seeping through the crack of the balcony door.
there you were, silhouetted against the quiet rain. the soft drizzle had dampened the balcony floor, leaving trails of silver glistening in the faint light. you were wrapped in one of his hoodies, the hem brushing against your thighs, your arms crossed tightly over your chest as if shielding yourself from a chill that wasn’t entirely physical.
he walked away from the messy bed silently, the cool floor against his feet grounding him as he padded toward the door. he hesitated for a moment, watching you from behind the glass. the way your shoulders rose and fell, your head tilted slightly as if lost in thought, made his heart ache. he knew—he always knew when something weighed on you. and tonight, it seemed heavier than usual.
sliding the door open, he stepped out. the cool night air greeted him, carrying the faint scent of rain and earth. “couldn’t sleep?” his voice was soft, almost a whisper, as if speaking too loudly would shatter the fragile quiet around you.
you startled slightly, your head turning to see him. his eyes, dark with sleep but laced with concern, met yours. “i didn’t mean to wake you,” you murmured, your voice as fragile as the raindrops clinging to the railing.
“you didn’t,” he assured, stepping closer until he was beside you. he didn’t touch you right away, knowing better than to invade your space without invitation. instead, he leaned against the railing, his gaze following yours into the rain-drenched cityscape. “what’s on your mind?”
you hesitated. the words felt too heavy, too tangled. “i don’t know,” you admitted, though you both knew it wasn’t entirely true.
jisung’s lips curved into a faint, understanding smile. “you’re a bad liar, baby,” he said gently, his tone devoid of accusation.
you exhaled a shaky laugh, the sound barely audible. “it’s stupid,” you began, but he shook his head before you could finish.
“if it’s keeping you up at this hour, i wouldn't think it is,” he countered, his voice steady, grounding.
you shifted your weight, fingers brushing against the cool metal of the railing. “sometimes it feels like… like i’m still stuck. like no matter how far i’ve come, there’s still this part of me that's just..” your voice broke, frustration mingling with vulnerability.
jisung’s eyes softened, his heart aching at the raw honesty in your words. he took a step closer, careful and deliberate, his presence warm and steady. “hey,” he murmured, his voice low, soothing. “look at me.”
you turned to him reluctantly, your eyes glistening not with rain but with unshed tears. he reached out slowly, giving you every opportunity to move away, but you didn’t. his fingers brushed against yours, tentative, before he took your hand in his. “you’re not stuck,” he said, his voice firm but tender. “you’re healing. and healing isn’t a straight line. it’s messy and hard, but it’s still progress. you’re still moving forward.”
a tear slipped down your cheek, and jisung caught it with the pad of his thumb, his touch featherlight. “you’ve come so far,” he continued, his gaze unwavering. “and even on the days when it feels like you haven’t, i’ll be right here, reminding you that you have.”
his words unraveled something in you, the knot of tension loosening as you leaned into him. he wrapped his arms around you, pulling you close, his hoodie enveloping you both. the steady beat of his heart beneath your ear was a comfort, a rhythm you could anchor yourself to.
“i’m sorry,” you whispered, your voice muffled against his chest.
he pulled back just enough to look at you, his expression a mix of exasperation and affection. “don’t apologize,” he said firmly. “not for this. not for feeling. not for anything actually.”
the rain continued its quiet symphony around you, the city a blurred canvas of lights and shadows. the world felt distant, inconsequential, as you stood there wrapped in jisung’s arms. his presence was steady, grounding, as if he were your anchor in a storm.
“i don’t know what i did to deserve you,” you said softly, your fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt.
jisung laughed quietly, the sound warm and soothing. “you existed,” he said simply, his lips brushing against the crown of your head.
for a while, neither of you spoke. the silence wasn’t heavy, but comforting, a shared understanding that words weren’t always necessary. the rain eased into a gentle drizzle, the air cool and crisp, carrying with it the faintest hint of dawn.
eventually, jisung broke the silence. “come back to bed?” he asked, his voice soft, coaxing. “it feels empty and cold without you.”
you nodded, smiling slightly, letting him guide you back inside. the warmth of the bedroom was a stark contrast to the cool night, and as you slipped beneath the covers, jisung’s arms found your waist again, holding you close.
“we’ll figure it out together,” he murmured against your hair, his voice heavy with sleep but resolute. “always.”
and with him beside you, the world felt a little less heavy, the darkness a little less daunting. you closed your eyes, letting the sound of his breathing and the faint patter of rain lull you into a peace you hadn’t thought possible. for the first time that night, you felt like you could breathe.
the soft warmth of morning light filtered through the curtains, painting the room in hues of gold and amber. the rain had stopped, leaving the world outside damp and glistening, like a secret freshly unwrapped. you stirred, cocooned in the familiar scent of jisung’s cologne and the lingering traces of sleep. his arms were draped around you, one hand resting against the small of your back, the other tangled in your hair. his steady breaths tickled your neck, a gentle reminder of his presence.
for a moment, you didn’t move, savoring the rare quiet of the morning. the weight of his arm, the warmth of his body pressed against yours, felt like home. slowly, you turned your head to look at him. his face was relaxed in sleep, his lips slightly parted, his lashes casting faint shadows on his cheeks. the sight made your heart swell, a quiet ache of love and gratitude.
as if sensing your gaze, jisung stirred, his hold tightening briefly before his eyes fluttered open. his brown eyes met yours, soft and drowsy, and a slow, lazy smile spread across his face. “good morning,” he murmured, his voice rough with sleep but filled with warmth.
“good morning,” you replied, your voice just as soft. you reached up to brush a strand of hair from his forehead, your fingers lingering against his skin.
he closed his eyes at your touch, leaning into it like a cat seeking affection. “how are you feeling?” he asked, his eyes opening again to search yours.
“better,” you admitted, your lips curving into a small smile. “thanks to you.”
jisung’s smile widened, his dimples appearing. “good,” he said simply, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. “that’s all i want.”
you shifted closer, burying your face in the crook of his neck. his skin was warm, and the faint scent of him—a mix of his cologne and something inherently jisung—wrapped around you like a blanket. “i don’t ever want to leave this spot,” you mumbled against his skin.
he chuckled, the sound vibrating through his chest. “then don’t,” he said, his hand running soothingly up and down your back. “stay here. with me. forever.”
you pulled back just enough to look at him, your eyes meeting his. “forever?” you teased, a playful smile tugging at your lips.
he grinned, his eyes sparkling with mischief and sincerity. “forever and then some.”
the two of you stayed like that, wrapped in each other’s warmth, exchanging soft words and lazy smiles. the world outside could wait. in this moment, there was only the two of you, tangled in love and the quiet magic of a new day.
oh my god are my eyes being fr
stop thank you so much for reading omg
i literally love your works omg hsdbhkwe never did i expect you or any other authors would ever read my work😭😭😭😭
im so honoured omg thank u for loving the writing !!!!!! ><
yani's note ˖ ˙ ᰋ and i make a comeback >< when @cosmicalily requested me this, i couldn't not post it right? anything for my bb !!!! thank you so much for requesting hun, hope you like it and feel better !! i'm so sorry for anybody who has gone through something like this, please remember you're so strong. you deserve all the love. you're only healing, and sometimes it's not as quick for everyone. it will get better, definitely. anyway, my break might be coming to an end soon at this point because life is actually better now, kinda, hehe. comments, requests, asks, likes, follows and reblogs are always appreciated ! comment/ask if you want to be added to my mastertag ! happy reading <3
the night was unusually quiet, as if the universe itself had decided to hush the world into stillness. the faint hum of the city outside was softened by the gentle patter of rain against the windows, a rhythmic lullaby that often lulled you into dreams. but tonight, it couldn't. not when your mind was restless, tangled in thoughts you couldn’t untie. you hadn’t meant to disturb the peace of the bed—the warmth of your boyfriend beside you was usually enough to keep the darkness at bay. but something unspoken gnawed at you, an ache too familiar to ignore.
it was nearing 3am when he stirred, his hand instinctively reaching out to the space where you should’ve been. the emptiness startled him awake, his fingers brushing cold sheets instead of your warmth. blinking against the dim light filtering through the curtains, his heart sank when he realized you weren’t there.
the room was bathed in silver moonlight, spilling through the half-open curtains in soft, uneven waves, illuminating the chaos of their shared space. the indent of your body remained on the mattress, a shallow impression in the memory foam, stark and still. jisung’s fingers brushed the cooling fabric, the texture of the duvet suddenly foreign against his fingertips. it was as your absence had stripped the bed of its familiarity, leaving only muted reminders of you—your scent lingering faintly in the air, a whiff of your favorite vanilla and cinnamon moisturiser.
he pushed himself upright, the sheets slipping away from his chest like water pooling to his waist. the air felt sharper without you, slicing through the warmth he’d carried in his sleep. his eyes, still heavy-lidded and bleary, scanned the room, seeking you out instinctively. shadows gathered in the corners, their jagged edges softened by the moonlight. your absence grew louder with every passing second, an ache that started in his chest and crept into the pit of his stomach.
jisung swung his legs over the edge of the bed, his feet meeting the chilled floor. the hardwood creaked beneath him, a sound that might have woken you, coaxing a sleepy protest from you lips. now, it only echoed in the stillness, a reminder of how empty the space felt without you. his hands rubbed his face, chasing away the remnants of sleep as he called you softly, the syllables barely escaping his throat.
then he saw it; a faint glow seeping through the crack of the balcony door.
there you were, silhouetted against the quiet rain. the soft drizzle had dampened the balcony floor, leaving trails of silver glistening in the faint light. you were wrapped in one of his hoodies, the hem brushing against your thighs, your arms crossed tightly over your chest as if shielding yourself from a chill that wasn’t entirely physical.
he walked away from the messy bed silently, the cool floor against his feet grounding him as he padded toward the door. he hesitated for a moment, watching you from behind the glass. the way your shoulders rose and fell, your head tilted slightly as if lost in thought, made his heart ache. he knew—he always knew when something weighed on you. and tonight, it seemed heavier than usual.
sliding the door open, he stepped out. the cool night air greeted him, carrying the faint scent of rain and earth. “couldn’t sleep?” his voice was soft, almost a whisper, as if speaking too loudly would shatter the fragile quiet around you.
you startled slightly, your head turning to see him. his eyes, dark with sleep but laced with concern, met yours. “i didn’t mean to wake you,” you murmured, your voice as fragile as the raindrops clinging to the railing.
“you didn’t,” he assured, stepping closer until he was beside you. he didn’t touch you right away, knowing better than to invade your space without invitation. instead, he leaned against the railing, his gaze following yours into the rain-drenched cityscape. “what’s on your mind?”
you hesitated. the words felt too heavy, too tangled. “i don’t know,” you admitted, though you both knew it wasn’t entirely true.
jisung’s lips curved into a faint, understanding smile. “you’re a bad liar, baby,” he said gently, his tone devoid of accusation.
you exhaled a shaky laugh, the sound barely audible. “it’s stupid,” you began, but he shook his head before you could finish.
“if it’s keeping you up at this hour, i wouldn't think it is,” he countered, his voice steady, grounding.
you shifted your weight, fingers brushing against the cool metal of the railing. “sometimes it feels like… like i’m still stuck. like no matter how far i’ve come, there’s still this part of me that's just..” your voice broke, frustration mingling with vulnerability.
jisung’s eyes softened, his heart aching at the raw honesty in your words. he took a step closer, careful and deliberate, his presence warm and steady. “hey,” he murmured, his voice low, soothing. “look at me.”
you turned to him reluctantly, your eyes glistening not with rain but with unshed tears. he reached out slowly, giving you every opportunity to move away, but you didn’t. his fingers brushed against yours, tentative, before he took your hand in his. “you’re not stuck,” he said, his voice firm but tender. “you’re healing. and healing isn’t a straight line. it’s messy and hard, but it’s still progress. you’re still moving forward.”
a tear slipped down your cheek, and jisung caught it with the pad of his thumb, his touch featherlight. “you’ve come so far,” he continued, his gaze unwavering. “and even on the days when it feels like you haven’t, i’ll be right here, reminding you that you have.”
his words unraveled something in you, the knot of tension loosening as you leaned into him. he wrapped his arms around you, pulling you close, his hoodie enveloping you both. the steady beat of his heart beneath your ear was a comfort, a rhythm you could anchor yourself to.
“i’m sorry,” you whispered, your voice muffled against his chest.
he pulled back just enough to look at you, his expression a mix of exasperation and affection. “don’t apologize,” he said firmly. “not for this. not for feeling. not for anything actually.”
the rain continued its quiet symphony around you, the city a blurred canvas of lights and shadows. the world felt distant, inconsequential, as you stood there wrapped in jisung’s arms. his presence was steady, grounding, as if he were your anchor in a storm.
“i don’t know what i did to deserve you,” you said softly, your fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt.
jisung laughed quietly, the sound warm and soothing. “you existed,” he said simply, his lips brushing against the crown of your head.
for a while, neither of you spoke. the silence wasn’t heavy, but comforting, a shared understanding that words weren’t always necessary. the rain eased into a gentle drizzle, the air cool and crisp, carrying with it the faintest hint of dawn.
eventually, jisung broke the silence. “come back to bed?” he asked, his voice soft, coaxing. “it feels empty and cold without you.”
you nodded, smiling slightly, letting him guide you back inside. the warmth of the bedroom was a stark contrast to the cool night, and as you slipped beneath the covers, jisung’s arms found your waist again, holding you close.
“we’ll figure it out together,” he murmured against your hair, his voice heavy with sleep but resolute. “always.”
and with him beside you, the world felt a little less heavy, the darkness a little less daunting. you closed your eyes, letting the sound of his breathing and the faint patter of rain lull you into a peace you hadn’t thought possible. for the first time that night, you felt like you could breathe.
the soft warmth of morning light filtered through the curtains, painting the room in hues of gold and amber. the rain had stopped, leaving the world outside damp and glistening, like a secret freshly unwrapped. you stirred, cocooned in the familiar scent of jisung’s cologne and the lingering traces of sleep. his arms were draped around you, one hand resting against the small of your back, the other tangled in your hair. his steady breaths tickled your neck, a gentle reminder of his presence.
for a moment, you didn’t move, savoring the rare quiet of the morning. the weight of his arm, the warmth of his body pressed against yours, felt like home. slowly, you turned your head to look at him. his face was relaxed in sleep, his lips slightly parted, his lashes casting faint shadows on his cheeks. the sight made your heart swell, a quiet ache of love and gratitude.
as if sensing your gaze, jisung stirred, his hold tightening briefly before his eyes fluttered open. his brown eyes met yours, soft and drowsy, and a slow, lazy smile spread across his face. “good morning,” he murmured, his voice rough with sleep but filled with warmth.
“good morning,” you replied, your voice just as soft. you reached up to brush a strand of hair from his forehead, your fingers lingering against his skin.
he closed his eyes at your touch, leaning into it like a cat seeking affection. “how are you feeling?” he asked, his eyes opening again to search yours.
“better,” you admitted, your lips curving into a small smile. “thanks to you.”
jisung’s smile widened, his dimples appearing. “good,” he said simply, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. “that’s all i want.”
you shifted closer, burying your face in the crook of his neck. his skin was warm, and the faint scent of him—a mix of his cologne and something inherently jisung—wrapped around you like a blanket. “i don’t ever want to leave this spot,” you mumbled against his skin.
he chuckled, the sound vibrating through his chest. “then don’t,” he said, his hand running soothingly up and down your back. “stay here. with me. forever.”
you pulled back just enough to look at him, your eyes meeting his. “forever?” you teased, a playful smile tugging at your lips.
he grinned, his eyes sparkling with mischief and sincerity. “forever and then some.”
the two of you stayed like that, wrapped in each other’s warmth, exchanging soft words and lazy smiles. the world outside could wait. in this moment, there was only the two of you, tangled in love and the quiet magic of a new day.
Pairing: Minotaur!Changbin x AFAB.Reader
Themes: Mythical AU | Angst | Smut | Fluff
Word Count: ~14k | AO3
Synopsis: The Labyrinth was an enigma for most people. Its existence was known, but what exactly happened within it was a complete mystery. When you entered the Labyrinth, you weren’t really sure what you’d have to come face to face with… Not even in a million years would you have guessed just exactly what you’d find in here.
Warnings: descriptors of the reader such as: having long hair · mentions of murder · mentions of assault · depictions of anxiety · violence (in many different forms) · Changbin is 300cm tall (feels like that warrants a warning) · graphic depictions of outercourse (smut warnings under the cut). - feel free to let me know if i missed any.
Author’s Note: shout out to the anon that sent this ask back in august and ingrained the mental image of minotaur!changbin in my brain. more notes at the end.
Due to all the abovementioned warnings, this story is intended for an adult audience only. Minors please do not interact.
Smut Warnings: size kink · literal monster cock (he’s a giant… and a half-bull, half-man one at that…) · nipple play · mutual masturbation · non-penetrative sex.
Disclaimer: the story presented in this work does not represent Stray Kids in any way; anything described in this story and all actions performed by the characters are purely fictional, this was created just for good fun.
The sound of your footsteps bounced off of the walls. The corridors were more than spacious, well over twenty metres wide, with the ceiling probably twice as high, but even if it wasn’t crowded in here, it still made you a bit claustrophobic.
You supposed that the few holes in the ceiling did help ease that feeling a little bit. Emphasis on a little bit.
Even if you weren’t particularly thrilled about being down here, you still walked, because there was simply nothing else to do.
You could’ve sat down and awaited your death exactly where you had landed when they threw you in here, but you were never one to remain still for too long.
So, after having a good crying session, and after hours had passed since you’d been given your death sentence, you had finally stood up and started to walk.
You knew what this place was, although you’d never really seen it. You hadn’t even known it was here in this exact area.
The Labyrinth.
It was said that the place was humongous, practically never-ending, built by a king in ancient times as an offering to the Gods. Presumably, it’d ended up buried in the earth as time passed, and it stretched over kilometres and kilometres of land, but no one had really seen it and lived to tell the tale. At least, no one you knew of.
Law enforcement clearly knew the place, but you weren’t really sure if you could call them people. After all, they had never taken you seriously when you’d sought out their help. In a way, you felt like it was their fault you’d ended up here in the first place…
Although you’d heard of this place, you never really imagined it’d look like this inside. The brick walls were looking a bit worn down, but still structurally sound. They were lined with torches lit with eternal fire, just like the tales said. The floor would alternate between dirt, gravel, actual flooring, and mud.
As you walked, you saw some ponds, some that even had fish inside. You figured that could be a potential way out, but you weren’t sure how deep you’d have to swim or if that’d be viable at all, so you scrapped the thought altogether.
Sometimes, you’d see trees. Especially in those areas where there were holes on the ceiling.
Some of those holes were partially blocked by metal rods, like law enforcement realised they were there and did the minimum required to keep a person or an animal from falling inside. Others were fully open, they varied in sizes, but they were honestly too high up for a person to reach them.
The trees, the mismatched flooring, and the occasional patch of grass weren’t that odd, though. They fit in well, and their presence made sense. What did feel out of place were the drawings on the walls.
They weren’t on every wall, but there were so many of them it was hard not to notice they were there. Some looked like they’d been there for a long time, the colours were a bit washed out and some of the pigment had probably been absorbed by the brick overtime. Others looked like they could’ve been made a few weeks ago.
Birds, trees, deer, the sun, the moon… They were mostly nature themed, and, in any other context, you might’ve been inspired by the artistry. Even if they intrigued you, it was hard to appreciate them when you felt so hopeless, when you felt so… empty.
As soon as you had stopped crying earlier, you had accepted your fate–how long had it been since then? How long have you been walking for? Hours? How many? It was hard to tell down here…
You realised just how much time had passed once you noticed another hole in the ceiling. You might’ve missed a few before, since it was clearly now well into the night and there was no light to highlight their presence.
The faint stars you could see out of that hole made a knot form in your throat and tears well in your eyes.
This was unfair.
You shouldn’t be the one in here.
If anything, it should’ve been him.
If anyone had paid attention to you, it would’ve been him.
But instead, here you were.
You found a patch of grass under that hole you saw, so you just laid down and curled in on yourself and called it a night.
As the tears started to fall again, you reminded yourself that you had accepted your fate.
There was no going back now.
It was hard to tell how long you’d been inside the Labyrinth for.
The first couple of days, you kept count diligently, but at some point you realised it was absolutely pointless. Why would you even want to know that information, if you weren’t going to be able to leave?
You were on your own here.
You’d seen items that clearly belonged to someone at some point scattered around the many corridors of the Labyrinth, but you hadn’t seen a single soul. Only the fish you’d caught from the occasional pond you found that helped keep your stomach full, or the odd magpie that would come from one of the ceiling’s holes and jump around for a bit before taking off and leaving you alone once again.
You were on your own here… That was, as long as the stories weren’t true.
At first, you thought that the death sentence meant you’d be locked here to starve to death, but that logic started to crumble when you saw just how many sources of sustenance were available. Fresh water, fruit, fish, birds–if one was skilled enough to be able to hunt one of those, or at least have the will to…
You wondered if law enforcement knew this place was like this… Whether they knew or not, you figured it probably didn’t matter. The longer you spent here, the more it made sense to you that the stories were true.
It was said that a beast lived inside the Labyrinth.
A beast that would make the strongest, bravest man cower in fear.
Some people said it had multiple sets of arms, or that it was as big as the royal library building, bigger than any temple anyone had seen. Others said it was such a deformed being that just the sight of it would kill you, and if that didn’t, it would make sure to do so by eating its victims piece by piece.
You knew these were nothing but stories to garner attention, for people to cause unnecessary chaos just because they could. If these people had actually seen this alleged beast, you supposed they wouldn’t even be alive to share their experience with the world.
You had never believed such a thing existed, but as nights and days went by, there was a small–and very scared–part of you that believed it might be true. Maybe this beast was very real, and was roaming the corridors of the Labyrinth.
Even if you’d been lucky to have found a few ponds that were large enough for you to bathe in, you still had pretty much only what you’d been wearing since you were thrown in here. You had used those ponds to wash your peplos a few times, but, unfortunately, it wasn’t even in good shape to begin with, and rinsing it in water seemed to hardly help its condition.
Your feet ached, your sandals were certainly not meant to be used to walk these distances, and the feeling of your dirty garments, combined with the lack of human contact, were steadily driving you crazy with every day that passed. Maybe this was the punishment. To be driven to insanity by what would usually be a minor inconvenience, by the amount of nothing that was happening around you.
The fact that you kept seeing his face in your dreams didn’t help it one bit.
Sometimes, you’d see it even when you were awake. You just needed to close your eyes, and you immediately got flashes of red and the feeling of pure hatred and anger…
You always felt like washing your hands after, like jumping into any pond or puddle you could find. And whenever you could, you did.
Unfortunately, no amount of hand-washing and bathing would make the feeling go away.
You figured you’d have to learn to live with it.
As you furiously scrubbed your palms for the millionth time that day, you started to hear something.
Your movements stopped, but your hands remained submerged in the pond. It was usually quiet inside the Labyrinth, save for the few birds that’d sometimes fly and sing above you, or the occasional splashing fish inside the numerous bodies of water.
But, right now, you could definitely hear something… Not only that, but you could feel something.
You could barely notice while you still had your hands under the water, but the rippling on the surface of it couldn’t have been made by you. Not when the little pebbles on the ground were shaking, too.
Thump…
Thump…
Thump…
Thump…
The sound seemed to be coming from the corridor on your right. It was growing closer, but your body wouldn’t move. You couldn’t move. You were just kneeling there, looking at the flickering torches lining the walls, with your hands still inside the pond, completely paralysed.
It wasn’t until you saw the shadow of something popping from around the corner that you actually came to your senses.
You had to run.
And you had to run now.
You stood up from the ground faster than you could even blink. Taking the lower part of your peplos with tight, wet fists, you just started to run as fast as you could.
You could practically feel your heart in your throat as anxiety started to kick in. You had convinced yourself that this beast didn’t exist, you had thought that since you hadn’t seen it in your time here, it must’ve not existed at all.
But the deep bellow that resonated within the corridor was proof enough that you had been severely mistaken.
It was so loud that the sound seemed to penetrate into your skin and rattle your bones from deep within. A ringing broke free in your ears, accompanying your agitated heartbeat.
Thump… Thump… Thump… Thump… Thump… Thump… Thump…
The whole ground shook with each heavy step the beast took, so much so, you tripped and fell into a path of rough gravel, ripping your clothing and scraping your knees in the process.
You couldn’t stop, though. There was no pain, no moment to think twice, you just stood up and kept running. You ran and ran and ran, turning the many corners of the Labyrinth as you went…
There was a little voice in the back of your mind telling you it was useless, but you didn’t want to hear it. You refused to hear it.
At least, until you turned and found yourself in a dead end.
Thump… Thump… Thump… Thump… Thump… Thump… Thump…
Whatever it was, it drew closer and closer, shaking the ceiling and the walls as it tried to catch up with you.
Maybe you could still escape it somehow. Maybe, you’d be able to run past it and lose it in the many corridors of the Labyrinth.
When you turned around, you realised just how foolish that thought had been.
The air escaped your lungs when your back hit the wall. Your feet weren’t touching the ground, and you could feel pressure on your sides from where you were being held against the wall.
Your vision was blurry from the lack of oxygen, you could barely make out the shape in front of you. Horns, fur, and… and a face.
You’d accepted your fate…
Or so you had thought.
“Please…” Your voice was barely above a whisper, not only due to how breathless you were after running for so long and after being pushed so forcibly against the wall, but also because the knot in your throat was just too big. “Don’t–Don’t hurt me”.
The first tear fell down your cheek, and many more followed soon after. You couldn’t see properly. Whatever was in front of you, was big enough to shield all light from hitting whichever parts you could’ve potentially seen.
The creature huffed, and you closed your eyes tightly as its face moved closer to yours.
Its breath was warm against your face. You almost flinched, expecting the smell of rotten flesh to envelop you, but, instead, all you could smell was laurel.
You could feel yourself tremble in its hold as sobs kept escaping your throat. The creature sniffed you, first your face, then your neck. It got so close in its exploration that you could feel the tip of a textured, moist nose against your skin. You braced yourself for what was to come. You were sure it was getting ready to eat you whole, hopefully in one single chomp, so you wouldn’t have to suffer too much…
The thing pulled away from your neck, and just when you thought it was going to go for it, you were moving.
It was so unexpected you barely registered it.
One second you were pressed against the bricks, and the next your stomach was pressing against firm muscle, and your arms were dangling over the creature’s back. Almost like it… like it had thrown you over its shoulder. And, after a few seconds of shock, you realised it had.
The beast had a strong hold on your back as it started to walk, presumably taking you somewhere.
You tried to blink the remaining tears away, at least enough so you could properly see something, anything.
You caught sight of the ground. You were definitely moving, and, for a moment, you thought you were imagining things.
You could see smooth skin, you could feel it against your arms and hands whenever they hit it as they moved with each of the creature’s steps. Its back was very human-like… However, that smooth skin transitioned into dark fur towards the lower part of its body.
The tail of the creature swishing from side to side was the last thing you saw before you lost grasp of your surroundings.
Warmth.
You felt warm, but it wasn’t an unpleasant feeling. It was more like… a cosy feeling.
There was soft fabric under your hands, you could feel it dragging against your skin as your consciousness woke up.
Laurel… The smell of it filled your senses with that first intake of breath.
Laurel… like the beast’s breath.
Your eyes snapped open. They immediately landed on the patch of night sky that could be seen from the hole in the ceiling, right on top of you. You blinked slowly, taking in the sight of the twinkling stars above you.
Faint chewing sounds brought you back into the room, they made you remember what had happened before you lost consciousness. With quick movements, you sat up, and your breath hitched in your throat when your eyes locked onto the beast sitting a few metres in front of you.
Its eyes bore into yours as it chewed leisurely, on what you assumed to be a deer leg based on the shape of it. It didn’t make any movements, nor did it make any sounds–other than the occasional grunt when the meat was too stuck to the bone.
You were, quite honestly, speechless.
You had heard of the beast, but none of the descriptions truly matched what you were seeing right now.
A big, big creature. Inhumanly tall. Its torso was that of a man. Well defined, smooth, tanned skin, strong–very strong…–pecs, nipples adorned with silver jewellery, even stronger looking arms, and, although bigger than you had ever seen them, very human-looking hands.
That torso transitioned into bovine-like lower limbs–covered in thick, dark fur, strong thighs and calves, ending in hooves. But, most impactful, was its head. Human-looking as well, save for the pair of horns that protruded from its skull and a cattle-like nose. The horns were decorated with thick silver rings that glistened with the very few torches lit around the room.
Its face, though… Chubby cheeks, pouty lips, and a strong, but bull-looking nose, pierced with a thick silver hoop. Objectively, the face of a handsome man, all things considered…
You had truly never, ever seen anything like it.
The way it was looking at you felt purposeful, like it wasn’t doing it just for the sake of it, but more like it was aware of your presence in a conscious, coherent way. It wasn’t just the way an animal would look at another animal, more like a human would look at another human.
You swallowed, suddenly hyper aware of your body. Everything hurt. Your feet, your knees, your arms… you were sore all over. When you finally broke eye contact with the creature–man…?–in front of you, and looked at yourself instead, you were perplexed at the sight of your bandaged knees.
Your eyes snapped back up to meet the beast’s, who was eating the last few pieces of meat off the bone in his hand, but still looking at you.
“Did you…” Your voice broke due to your sore throat. You cleared it before you tried to speak again. “Did you do this?”
You gestured to the bandages, and it nodded to your question.
The beast understood you. It understood you and was able to answer the question.
“…Why?”
It seemed to be thoughtful for a moment, suckling on the bone to leave it completely clean before it threw it on a pile of bones in a corner of the room. Ultimately it simply shrugged, rendering you speechless once again.
The beast stood up from the ground, and walked towards another corner of the room, where a pond was. It knelt on the edge of it, and dipped its hands into the water. After scooping some water into its palms, it brought them close to his face and drank from them.
Was it… washing its hands? And its mouth?
You realised it was, in fact, washing its mouth when it–he…?–finally stood up and walked over to some trees, where he plucked some leaves to eat them–or, more accurately, to chew on them.
“What… What are you?” You couldn’t help the question from leaving your mouth. What you were seeing right now was so absurd you just needed to ask.
He shrugged once again, chewing leisurely as it finally started walking closer to you.
You honestly didn’t even try to move away, you were too in awe of his entire existence for your body to properly send you into fight or flight response.
He was so… big. Even when he finally crouched in front of the pile of fabric you’d been laying on, he just looked huge.
“Changbin”, he said all of a sudden.
Your jaw went slack for a moment. He could speak.
“Ch–Changbin?”
He nodded. “That’s what… my father calls me”.
Changbin spoke slowly, like he wasn’t used to speaking at all. You supposed it made sense, considering the stories surrounding the beast inside the Labyrinth.
But… father, he said? “You… you have a father?”
He nodded again, but didn’t say anything else. Changbin just looked at you, in complete silence.
You’d admit it was a bit… awkward.
“Do you… Is this what you do with the people that are thrown into the Labyrinth?”
Changbin shook his head, which further puzzled you.
“I usually kill them. Sometimes I eat them if there’s nothing else to eat… Other times, just use them as food for the plants and birds that live here”, he said simply, like it was nothing. You supposed to him it was nothing.
“Why haven’t you killed me?” You had to ask, because you just couldn’t comprehend how you could still be alive.
His eyes jumped from one of yours to the other repeatedly for a bit. Until he eventually shrugged. “Don’t want to”.
You didn’t really feel like asking ‘Why?’ again, so you just cleared your throat, and decided to introduce yourself instead.
Changbin remained quiet for a few moments, until he repeated your name a few times out loud, like he was trying to get used to the sound.
After about ten minutes of prying, Changbin explained to you that this was his den. It was at the very centre of the Labyrinth. He knew this whole place like the back of his hand, every twist and turn, every pond and every tree, he knew where absolutely everything was. Apparently, he’d lived here a long, long time.
You wanted to inquire more, but before you could, his ears perked up, and he looked towards the one and only exit of this area.
“Someone’s entered the Labyrinth”, he mumbled, almost to himself. He stood up from the floor, and wiped his hands on his fur before he started walking. When he reached the entrance, he turned back to look at you. “Stay here. Will be back in a couple of days”.
You didn’t really think you had any other choice.
Coexisting with Changbin was… weird.
It wasn’t uncomfortable by any means, but it was certainly weird.
He clearly didn’t understand human behaviour much. As in, he’d do things people typically didn’t do.
He’d stare at you a lot–very intensely, if you might add–he spoke in short sentences, or was too forward with what he said. For the most part, though, you didn’t mind. Considering the type of men you were used to, Changbin was far from bad.
Was he a huge half-man, half-bull creature that ate humans sometimes?
Yes.
But even then, he was heaps better than other men you’d met.
He had offered his nest for you to sleep on. He’d shared with you any fish he caught, and even brought you fruit sometimes. For the most part, you didn’t leave his den, and he simply let you stay.
Being honest, part of the reason why you didn’t leave was because you weren’t sure if you were allowed to. After all, he’d brought you in here himself.
Whenever someone entered the Labyrinth, he’d always ask you to stay while he left to look for them. Upon his return, he’d also share whichever goods he’d retrieved.
“You want this?” Changbin offered you a lump of fabric. It almost looked like a napkin in his hands, but when you took it and had a good look at it, you realised it was a chiton. And a fairly new one at that.
Your peplos was way too worn by now. You weren’t really sure how long you’d been inside the Labyrinth at this point, but you also figured it really didn’t matter. You’d washed your clothes plenty of times during your time here, but the rips and tears were just too many already, so you accepted the fresh garment.
“Thank you”, you looked up at him, trying not to focus too much on the swell of his chest, or the trail of fur that started from his navel and continued downwards, turning into his bovine legs.
Changbin was, truly, a sight to behold. Roughly three metres of hunk… The longer you spent around him, the longer you just… wanted to look at him.
You supposed you weren’t any different than him in that regard. At least, he didn’t seem bothered by it when you stared at him.
Changbin nodded, and made his way to his makeshift, newer nest. You felt a bit bad that you’d taken his much bigger sleeping space, but when you tried to get him to use it again, he simply told you ‘It’s your nest now’, so you just… kept using it to lay and sleep on.
“Washed it on my way here”, Changbin said once he was sitting on his nest, looking at you. Only then did you realise he’d not only brought the chiton with him, but also a bowl full of what looked like wildberries, and a guest.
The guest sat on the very top of his head, it was a bird. A fairly small one, but one that was clearly injured, if the way it weakly fluttered its wings was anything to go by.
You nodded, and repeated a soft ‘Thank you’. You honestly tried not to think too much about the person this piece of clothing belonged to just a few days ago. There was no point in that… It was yours now.
When you brought your hand to the fabric belt around your waist, you untied the knot that kept your peplos in place. The garment loosened, but before you could remove it, you looked back at Changbin.
He was just… staring at you. Like he always did.
You swallowed, trying to ignore the heat you felt spreading on your cheeks. “Could you, uhm…”
His ears perked up, listening intently to what you had to say.
“Could you maybe look away?”
Changbin blinked slowly, and his tail started swishing calmly behind him. “Why?”
“Because, y’know… I’m going to undress”, you replied simply, bringing the chiton closer to your chest. The heat on your face seemed to intensify.
“And?”
You were slightly taken aback by that. But as you looked at him, you couldn’t see anything other than genuine curiosity in his eyes. “I’ll undress… That means I’ll be naked in front of you”.
“Okay”.
Now you started blinking slowly. Okay he said. Just… Okay. How… odd. “Changbin, I don’t want you to, uh… see”.
His eyebrows furrowed at that. “Why?”
“Because it’s not appropriate”.
“How come?” He placed the bowl on the ground and leaned back on his hands, spreading his legs in front of him. “I’m naked right now”.
Ah… You supposed he was naked.
You tried really hard not to move your eyes away from his face, especially considering the position he was in… You didn’t want your eyes to just wander to improper territories. After all, there seemed to be a lot to look at…
As you pushed aside the chaotic thoughts inside your head, his comment made you realise that maybe it wasn’t inappropriate to be naked. At least not here, not with Changbin.
You weren’t on the surface anymore. You weren’t bound to human customs anymore, not since the moment you’d been sentenced, and the more you thought of that, the more you started to understand.
This was your safe place now. There was no judgement here, or, at least, you hadn’t felt any at all.
So you swallowed, suddenly feeling a bit nervous. With your eyes fixed on Changbin’s, you tried your best to ignore the warmth that took over your face as you undid your peplos.
The garment fell to the floor, and only then did his eyes wander. He looked at you, with his head tilted to the side. You could’ve sworn you saw his eyes twinkle under the light of the few flickering torches on the wall. ‘Don’t like to keep too many in here… Too bright’, Changbin had told you a few days ago, when you’d asked why there weren’t as many torches in his den as in the corridor walls, and his answer had just made sense to you.
You could almost feel his eyes tracing every curve of your body, and you tried to not focus on how that made you feel. Instead, you just threw the chiton on and quickly fastened it with the belt around your waist.
Changbin’s eyes were back on yours as you finished fixing your clothes, before you started to plait your hair.
“Are you cold?” He asked all of a sudden, just as you finished tying your hair.
Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “Not… not particularly?”
“Why’d you wear that, then?”
“Wear what? This?” You gestured to the garment you’d just put on, and Changbin simply nodded to your question. You blinked blankly at him for a few moments before you answered him. “I don’t… I shouldn’t be showing my body like that, y’know? It’s inappropriate. At least, on the surface it is. So we just… wear clothes”.
“That’s why humans wear clothes?” He sounded genuinely incredulous, and based on the way his eyes widened, you figured he was. “Thought y’all were just cold all the time”.
You couldn’t help but snort at that. You laughed. You laughed like you hadn’t laughed in weeks, almost madly even.
This was all just so, so absurd. You’d been sentenced to death, and somehow, you’d ended up here, with a creature like Changbin. A sentient creature that thought humans wore clothes just because ‘they were cold all the time’.
“Why shouldn’t you show your body?” Changbin looked beyond confused, and somehow it made you laugh harder. “It’s… well, there. It’s you. Why hide it?”
Your laugh died down, and you wiped the few stray tears that had fallen from your eyes. There was a small smile tugging at his lips, he didn’t seem fazed by your fit of laughter other than looking mildly confused now, so you just composed yourself and answered him as honestly as you could. “It’s… a private thing…”
“Private?” Changbin asked, tilting his head cutely to the side. “So no one has seen you naked?”
You went quiet at that, and started fidgeting with the end of your belt. “Some people have… Y’know, my mum… My–my husband…”
The title left a bitter taste on your tongue, but you tried to ignore it. You didn’t like thinking about him. Whenever you did, you always tried to squash the mental image to the deepest recesses of your mind. It was just… a bit too much still.
“You’re married?” Changbin asked, curiously, leaning forward and resting his arms on his knees.
“Not anymore”, you looked away from him, trying to ignore his peering eyes. You really didn’t feel like elaborating further, so you tried to divert the conversation by talking about literally anything else. The weather, the flowers that had started to bloom in his garden, the bird on top of his head…
Changbin didn’t really pry further, he just followed your chaotic rambling as best as he could, until he eventually started crushing the berries in his bowl and telling you about the bird.
Apparently, he’d found it yesterday when he was on his way back here, and had been trying to nurse it back into health since. While he told you the story, he kept crushing the wildberries in his bowl, and he’d occasionally bring his free hand up to the little critter. It simply pecked his fingertip a few times before it resumed grooming his hair.
After a while, he stood up from his makeshift nest. With his bowl of crushed berries in hand, and the injured bird nestled on the crown of his head among his messy hair, Changbin made his way to a nearby wall. You just watched him curiously from where you were laying on his original nest.
Changbin dipped two of his fingers in the mixture of crushed berries, and then he just… drew a line on the wall.
Then another…
And another…
He was silent for the most part, but low noises would occasionally resonate from his chest when the little bird on his head chirped. It was almost like they were having a conversation.
And you figured they were. Mostly because every couple of lines he made, he’d huff, and the bird would chirp in response. Changbin simply nodded–carefully, as to not let the bird fall with the movement–and kept on drawing.
You weren’t sure how long you spent there, just looking at him doing his thing, but it was genuinely fascinating. The way his tail would sway every once in a while, the way the muscles on his back flexed and relaxed as he moved all sorts of ways as he painted on the walls…
Eventually, his lines took the very distinct shape of a bird, one that mirrored the one on his head almost perfectly.
“Changbin?” You asked after a while. He hummed to let you know he was listening, so you continued. “Did you make all the other drawings throughout the Labyrinth?”
It seemed like a silly question to ask, because, who else would’ve done it, if not the beast doing one just now in front of you?
Changbin added the finishing touches to his drawing, then he turned to look at you. He offered the remnants of crushed berries in his bowl to the bird, just as he brought the two fingers he’d been using to his mouth so he could lick them clean.
You tried not to focus too much on the action by fixing your eyes on his.
He pulled his digits out of his mouth with a slight sucking sound, and nodded. “I did”.
“Mmm… They’re pretty”, you said simply.
Because, to you, they were.
You found them odd when you first saw them, since they didn’t seem to fit the aura surrounding this place, but they were certainly pretty. And knowing they’d been made by him, just seemed to make them even prettier.
Changbin finally put the bowl down on one of the many tall–but flat–rocks scattered throughout the room, and, for a moment, you could’ve sworn his cheeks had reddened. “Thanks…”
You just offered him a smile, even if he wasn’t looking at you.
A cold wind filtered through the hole in the ceiling, it had your teeth chattering and your whole body shivering. You tried to cover yourself further, but the way Changbin had built his nest made it so you really couldn’t pull fabric from it without messing it up, and there was no spare cloth close by that you could use as a blanket.
It made sense, you supposed. He didn’t seem like he needed anything to keep himself warm, and you also hadn’t needed it before during your stay here, so you hadn’t even tried to ask for one.
You heard faint shuffling, followed by quiet thump, thump, thumps, until you felt warmth close to you.
“Tiny human”, Changbin mumbled, pulling your attention fully towards him.
You hummed to let him know you were listening, but you didn’t open your eyes, nor did you feel like wasting energy saying actual words. You needed to use every bit of it you could to try to keep yourself warm.
“You’re whimpering. Why?”
Had you been whimpering?
You hadn’t even realised you were. Maybe you’d fallen asleep without noticing…
You took a deep breath, trying to steady your trembling form, but it only brought a rush of cold air inside your body. “M’cold…”
There was silence for a moment. With half lidded eyes, you could’ve sworn you were seeing your breath coming out of your mouth in little white clouds. It didn’t make you feel any better. If anything, it agitated you a bit more, but you couldn’t even express it fully.
Changbin was quiet for a long while, but you could still feel him close. You appreciated it. It felt like moral support, at least.
Eventually, you heard–and felt–him shuffle closer to the nest. “Can I… Can I keep you warm?”
You immediately nodded. You didn’t care what he did, or how he did it. You just needed to be warm, and if he could give you that you’d honestly take it.
There was more shuffling, and then there was a minute dip in the nest. You yelped when you felt Changbin’s arm wrap around your waist and pull you into him from behind.
His hold was strong, firm, but also… gentle. He kept you close, with his chin resting on the top of your head and a hand pressed firmly against your stomach. He was so close, and so, so warm, you immediately felt yourself relaxing, moulding into his body, almost like… like you’d always been meant to.
Slowly, his warmth seeped into you, until you were no longer shivering. Tentatively, you placed a hand on top of the one he kept on your stomach. You could’ve sworn you felt him jump a bit behind you, but as soon as you started tracing his knuckles with your fingertips, he seemed to relax once again.
You weren’t really sure what compelled you to do it, you had just… felt like doing it. You spent a while just like that, feeling each knuckle of his fingers, feeling the prominent veins on the back of his hand. They were so big… especially compared to your own.
You’d never felt like a particularly small person, but next to him, you certainly looked tiny, you felt tiny. But only physically. Being honest, you’d never felt as equal to someone as you felt with Changbin.
“I think you’re pretty, too”, he mumbled all of a sudden, and for a moment, you felt your heart stop, only to resume its beating at record-breaking speeds. “Like my drawings, I mean…”
You turned in his hold, and immediately buried your face in his neck. Not only seeking the heat of his skin, but also trying to hide the flustered reaction on your face. He just held you closer, further enveloping you in his warmth.
“Thank you…” You mumbled against the skin of his neck, and he simply offered you a tiny sound of content in response.
In the safety of Changbin’s arms, blanketed in his body heat, you finally fell asleep.
You didn’t mind staying at Changbin’s den, but you were starting to get a bit… bored.
Mostly if he was gone. When he was there, you could at least strike conversation, or play some sort of game. Knucklebones was a favourite of yours, for example.
When he wasn’t here, all you did was try to keep yourself entertained with whatever items Changbin had lying around, or by tending to the garden inside the den.
At some point, you’d managed to use some of the numerous pieces of fabric he’d collected to make yourself a proper blanket. Although, to be fair, you hardly ever needed it.
It was a given at this point that he’d snuggle up next to you to keep you warm. Since that very first night, you’d only had to use your blanket when someone had entered the Labyrinth and he wasn’t here.
You’d admit, sleeping with Changbin was… nice. Especially since temperatures seemed to be decreasing by the day.
He was all plush and warm and his heartbeat just helped you relax. Ever since you got married–since you were forced to get married…–you had never enjoyed sharing your sleeping space, but, with Changbin, it was different. You just… felt safe. As odd as that might sound.
“It’s not fair! You got it so much easier to pick those up!” Changbin huffed, clicking his tongue when you, once again, beat him at your game of knucklebones.
“Find bigger pieces, then!” You chuckled, jiggling the small set of bones in your hand. “I’m sure there are plenty of huge rocks you can get in here”.
He just clicked his tongue again, finishing in a cute pout as he crossed his arms over his chest. All that did was bring your attention to the swell of his pecs and the size of his arms, which immediately made you swallow.
Dear Gods, was he big…
You scrambled to fix your eyes on his face. These were thoughts you didn’t feel like entertaining… what would be the point of it if you did? What would you even do with someone like Changbin? It felt a bit too… complicated. But, there was a little voice in the deepest areas of your conscience begging you to entertain the thought… telling you that it’d surely be worth it.
You decided to ignore it.
“Hey, Changbin”, you tried to get his attention back on you, disregarding the plethora of sinful scenarios that were playing in the back of your mind.
Changbin’s ears flickered before he was fixing his eyes on you again, so you took it as a sign to speak. “You think I could… go out for a walk?”
He uncrossed his arms so he could lean back on his hands, once again, making you absolutely struggle to keep your eyes on his face and not on whatever was going on between his legs. “You want to?”
You just nodded in response, nervously tapping on the floor one of the bones you held in your hand.
“Then you can”, he replied simply.
“I can?” You didn’t mean to sound incredulous, but you supposed his nonchalance did take you by surprise.
“‘Course. If you want to, you can”.
“You don’t mind?”
Changbin blinked slowly at you for a moment, before his eyebrows furrowed. “Why would I mind?”
“Dunno… I thought you… thought you might”.
“Why did you think that?”
Huh, good question… Why would you think that?
You supposed there was a part of you that had just kind of… assumed he’d mind. But you realised then that he’d never really said anything about it.
He’d only ever asked you to stay when someone else came into the Labyrinth, and you supposed it made sense he would if he cared for your safety. Which you were pretty sure he did, considering all he’d done for you so far… So you just offered him a smile and a slight shake of your head.
“Ah, it’s nothing…” You stood up from the floor and wiped your hands on your chiton. “‘Suppose I’ll be back in a bit…”
Changbin just hummed to acknowledge you, but didn’t say anything else, so you made your way to the entrance of the room.
When you finally reached it, you stopped. As you looked at the corridor outside of the circle-shaped area that made Changbin’s den, you couldn’t help but feel your stomach sink. No matter where you looked, left or right, the way was seemingly endless. Every direction looked almost the same–save for the few paintings on the walls and the different textures on the floor.
If you left for a walk, would you be able to find your way back? You honestly weren’t too sure, and, truly… you wanted to come back. You were sure there was no better place to be inside the Labyrinth other than here, with Changbin.
So you turned around, finding the beast himself looking at you.
His tail swayed calmly behind him, his ears occasionally flickered, but, for the most part, he looked serene, sitting there on the floor where he’d been just before you stood up yourself.
“Would you… uhm…” You pinched a piece of your chiton between your fingers, and started fidgeting with it, looking in his overall direction but not really looking at him. “Would you like to come with me?”
You finally looked at his face. There was a small smile on his lips, and it honestly made your heart flutter. “Y’know I’ll find you if you get lost, right?”
No.
No, you didn’t know that.
You didn’t know he’d go out of his way to find you if you disappeared. You knew that he cared about what happened to you to some degree, but enough to look for you if you got lost? Even if it could potentially take days?
If you thought about it, maybe that, too, made sense. Maybe he enjoyed your presence just as much as you did his.
Licking your lips, you let go of that bit of fabric you’d been rolling between your fingers. “Would you come with me anyway?”
With a huff, Changbin stood up from the ground. He wiped his hands on his thighs, just before he walked to stand next to you. That was a good enough answer for you.
So, you finally stepped out into the corridor, and Changbin followed soon after.
The farther you tried to look, the more anxiety seemed to pool in your stomach. If the Labyrinth had made you claustrophobic when you first stepped in it, right now, leaving Changbin’s den, you felt haunted with agoraphobia.
The corridors were endless, the ceiling felt like it was way too high–unlikely, since it was pretty much the same height as it was inside the den…–and the fact that you couldn’t see the first turn in either direction you looked had your head spinning. So you turned back to Changbin.
“Is there any place you like? If there is, I’d like you to show me”.
Changbin just nodded, and started walking. You followed him from closely behind, nervously looking over your shoulder sometimes, but, for the most part, you tried to focus on the drawings on the walls, or the flashes of nature around you.
It was quiet, save for the flicker of the eternal fire and the thumps produced with each step Changbin took. They weren’t as loud as they’d been the first time you heard him, probably because he was walking very, very slowly.
Even if he was walking slowly, though, you were starting to get out of breath from trying to keep up with the steps his long legs could take. One of Chanbin’s steps could’ve very well been ten of yours…
You weren’t sure how many turns you took, you simply followed him wherever he would go, asking for a few pauses sometimes when you felt like you needed to catch your breath.
There were parts of the Labyrinth that were dimmer than others. As Changbin explained to you, it was either because someone had taken a torch off its support on the wall and never returned it, or he himself had moved the torches somewhere else.
When you asked him why he’d moved them, he just said he’d get bored, and just found some entertainment in moving things around. Fair enough, you guessed…
Both of you finally came to a full stop in front of a tree. A big, very old-looking one. There was a patch of grass all around it, and it was almost tall enough to reach the ceiling. The hole above it surely provided enough light and water for the tree to thrive even down here.
“This is a place I like. Birds come in here sometimes. They keep me company”, Changbin plopped down at the base of the tree and leaned on it. While he looked at you, he patted the grass in front of him, right between his legs.
Your body reacted before your mind could, and, almost instinctively, you found yourself sitting on the grass and snuggled against his chest. He just wrapped his arms around your frame and kept you close, like he often did.
Soon enough, birds started coming in from the hole high above your heads, and you simply closed your eyes and started to hum a melody to accompany their chirping. You could certainly understand why he’d like being in a place like this, it was peaceful.
“You…” Changbin mumbled after a while, while he softly traced shapes on your arm with his thumb. “You used to pray, didn’t you?”
Your eyebrows furrowed, just before you pulled yourself away from his embrace to look him in the eyes. There was a bird perched on one of his horns already, picking at his hair, but he seemed unbothered by it.
“How’d you… How do you know that?” No one knew you prayed. In fact, you hadn’t prayed in a long, long time. It used to bring you comfort, maybe even hope, but that, too, had been crushed by the heavy weight of reality many moons ago.
Changbin looked up at the hole in the ceiling, which was covered by iron rods. His gaze was fixed on it for a while, and he remained quiet for a bit.
“I think I used to hear you pray”, his eyes were on yours again, and you suddenly felt your cheeks heating up at the attention. “You used to sing, too. Hum, like you did just now… The birds back then used to tell me you brought them food”.
The site you prayed at was incredibly far from where you’d been dropped into the Labyrinth. You knew this place was huge, but you honestly hadn’t realised just how much until this very moment.
“You stopped coming, though”, Changbin looked at you in a way that made you feel almost like he knew… “Was it because of him?”
Please! Don’t hurt me!
The memory was fresh, it wasn’t one you could just forget. Your husband… he wasn’t fond of the Gods, especially not the ones you prayed to. After all, you were praying in hopes they’d just… do something.
When law enforcement didn’t pay attention to you, you had turned to your faith for help.
But they, too, had failed you.
When your husband found out you’d been going to that specific place in the forest to pray, that you had your own humble shrine in there, he made absolutely sure you never returned. The place was now riddled with memories of nothing but pain, sorrow…
You felt a knot swell in your throat, out of fury more than anything else. You refused to let tears fall, though. The damage was done already, and even if you felt infuriated by how unjust everything that happened back then had been, the nightmare was over, and you had no one to thank but yourself for it.
Looking at Changbin, you nodded, just to let him know that it had been, in fact, because of him that you’d stopped going to pray to the forest currently above your heads.
“Even back then… I felt like it was unfair”, Changbin’s eyes jumped all over your face, while his thumb kept caressing the skin of your arm.
“It was”, you replied simply, looking up at him from where you were sitting between his legs. “But it’s no longer a problem. It’s stopped now”.
The bird that had been picking at Changbin’s hair finally flew away when he nodded. You looked him in the eyes for a while longer, until you finally leaned into him once again, and rested your head on his chest, right over his heart.
Thump… Thump… Thump… Thump… Thump…
The gentle rhythm vibrated against your ear, and, right then and there, you knew that it had all truly stopped. You were safe. It was, definitely, no longer a problem. In a way, you’d made sure of that…
You both stayed under that tree for a long time that afternoon, until you asked Changbin to show you anywhere else he liked before you made it back to the den.
Without saying a word, he effortlessly picked you up from the ground, and took you in his arms, making you all flustered when he offered you a ‘Tiny legs. Makes you slow…’ which you supposed you couldn’t argue with. To him, your legs were surely tiny, especially when compared to his own.
When you were back at Changbin’s den, you were tired, so you quickly washed up before you had dinner. Seared fish–courtesy of the eternal fire from one of the torches–with an assortment of fruits that somehow worked together, finished off with the corresponding pile of laurel leaves Changbin liked to chew on often–a habit which you yourself had picked up overtime.
It wasn’t long until you found yourself in Changbin’s nest, surrounded by soft fabric and his warmth. Cuddling had become one of your favourite winding down activities, and you certainly liked to do it for as long as you could. There was something about the closeness to someone else that felt… fulfilling. And you’d never truly felt this close to someone in your life.
Oftentimes, while cuddling, you also found yourself having the most profound conversations with Changbin. Either you or him–or both–would start bearing their hearts out for the other, and it was… nice.
Regardless of what you spoke about, it was nice.
“You…” Changbin mumbled, burying his fingers in your hair to gently caress your scalp. “Why’d they drop you here?”
You took a deep breath, mindlessly playing with the thick fur in the middle of his chest. “I took someone’s life…”
Changbin hummed, nuzzling your forehead with his nose. It was moist against your skin, but you didn’t mind.
“My husband…” You started, stilling the movement of your fingers in his fur to instead lay your hand on his chest. “I was just… I tried to get help. Every time he hurt me, I tried to get help. So, so many times… but no one listened. One night, he was trying to force himself on me and I just… took one of those hideous stone busts he kept around the house and I… hit him in the head”.
The memory wasn’t pleasant. You still remembered the first moment of shock, when you stared at his limp body on the floor. You remembered the blood, how it started to pool and stain that equally hideous rug he’d purchased for way too much money. You remembered the mess left behind when you tried to move your husband’s body out of the house so you could hide it in the forest…
But you were caught.
You were caught and no matter how much you explained what had happened, no one believed you.
“So I was sentenced to die”, you looked away from his chest to look him in the eyes. They seemed to be sparkling under the moonlight shining on you both. His eyes… They were gentle, and had the prettiest shade of brown you’d ever seen. “I should be dead by now. They were expecting you to kill me”.
Changbin’s eyes flickered between yours. They danced around your face for a moment, until they settled on your mouth. “I couldn’t. Don’t want to, either”.
“I know”, you mumbled simply. Bringing a hand to his face, you started tracing his features, his eyebrows, his nose, his cheeks… Changbin just closed his eyes as soon as your fingertips were on his skin, and his ears flickered happily as you did. “You’re way more than the beast people make you out to be”.
“You think so?” He asked it in a way that made it seem like he genuinely cared about what you had to say, like your opinion was valuable to him.
You hummed in confirmation, nodding slowly, because you truly meant it. Changbin was a bit of a brute, he was very capable of harming you, but he was also capable of being so incredibly gentle. Like he’d been with the injured bird he’d brought to his den many months ago. Like he’d been with you when he tended to your wounds when he brought you in here, or when you were shivering from the cold…
“Changbin…” You broke the silence after a while, placing your hand on his cheek and stroking the skin with your thumb. “Do you know what a kiss is?”
Changbin opened his eyes then, offering you an almost shy nod of his head.
“Have you kissed anyone before?” You placed your free hand on his chest, right over his heart. It was beating so incredibly fast… It was almost like you could feel every thump penetrate into your palm and rattle your insides.
Changbin shook his head, fixing his eyes on your mouth once again.
You licked your lips, almost absentmindedly. He was so close, and so warm, and you just… wanted him. “Would you like to?”
Changbin nodded again, so you just went for it.
Slowly, you leaned in, brushing your lips softly against his for a moment before you connected them fully. It was almost shy, just a tender peck on his lips, but it was a kiss nonetheless.
You pulled back a bit to look him in the eyes. Sparkly… Even more so than before. In an instant, his hand was at your waist, pulling you closer against his body as he leaned in to kiss you again.
It was slow, gentle, and it made your heart flutter. His lips slotted so perfectly with yours, you couldn’t even believe you’d ever kissed anyone else. So many kisses wasted, when you could’ve been giving them to him instead…
Tentatively, your tongue made contact with his bottom lip. He seemed to get the hint, since he parted his lips to let you in. With your arms around his neck, you kissed him deeply. He kissed you deeply.
At this very moment, there was nothing else in the world that wasn’t you and Changbin. The only thing that mattered was him and you in his nest, slowly getting your mouths acquainted with one another.
You didn’t know how long you spent right there, but you also didn’t care. By the time the moon had moved around in the sky and left you in partial darkness in Changbin’s den, you could already feel him poking your stomach.
The feeling of him, hard against your belly, set your insides alight.
You’d known for a long time, you’d been trying to ignore it, but you couldn’t do that any longer… You really wanted Changbin. Carnally. Like you’d want any other person.
His hands… His big, warm hands roamed your back, your rear, your thighs… It was like he wanted to make sure no part of your body was left untouched–at least the ones he currently had access to over your clothes. The kiss was turning sloppier and sloppier by the second, and, in no time, low bellows were resonating from Changbin’s chest.
It was just when you carded your fingers through his hair that he stiffened, fixing his hands on your waist and gripping you tightly to stop the grind of your hips you hadn’t even realised you’d started doing.
When had he laid on his back? When had you straddled his waist? You were so lost in your kiss you hadn’t even noticed…
He pulled back fully, offering you an apologetic look while he brought his thumb to your bottom lip and swiped it over the swollen skin.
“Someone’s entered the Labyrinth…” Changbin mumbled, so quietly you wouldn’t have heard him if you hadn’t been so close.
You pouted sadly, but nodded in understanding. With one final peck on his lips, you finally rolled off of him and onto the plush nest, where you curled into yourself as you watched him get up.
Changbin bent down to kiss your forehead. He brushed his textured nose tenderly against yours for a moment, just before he threw your makeshift blanket over your body.
“I’ll be back in a few days. Hm?”
You simply nodded again, feeling your eyes growing heavier as sleep started to cling to your muscles.
After one final smile, Changbin finally turned around and made his way out of his den.
You couldn’t help but sneak a glance at him before he left, and, Gods… You really, really wanted him…
As you let your hand find its way between your legs, and even in your sleepy state, you couldn’t help but fully come face to face with the realisation that you wanted him, more than you’d ever wanted anyone else before.
With the tingles of pleasure you were coaxing from your centre that spread to all of your limbs, your mind wandered, trying to figure out just how you could… take him.
You had to find a way. You were determined to find a way.
You didn’t know how you’d do it, but you were certain you would.
Eventually, you would.
Changbin was taking longer than usual to come back from his last outing, and it was starting to worry you.
The first couple of days went by as usual. You washed any garments of clothing you’d collected over time, you tended to any of Changbin’s friends–meaning, the birds that would come from the surface–whenever they dropped by, or you simply spent it brainstorming all the possible ways in which you could pleasure such a monstrous cock.
Not only that, but how you could get pleasure from that monstrous cock. Because you were set on making the most of it. Gone were the days in which you shied away from your desires. You were a living being with needs, and if you couldn’t fulfil those needs with a literal giant half-bull, half-man creature, you were sure you wouldn’t have been able to do it with anyone else.
Besides, though, you didn’t want anyone else.
And it wasn’t the fact that you were living in the Labyrinth and couldn’t even meet other human beings. What you felt for Changbin was something you’d never felt before. You genuinely cared about him… You cared a lot.
Which was why, by the fifth day he hadn’t returned to the den, you had bitten all ten of your nails almost to the flesh.
Where was he?
You were convinced it was pretty much impossible for him to get lost inside the Labyrinth, but what if he had?
Or worse…
What if whoever had been dropped in here hurt him?
What if he was hurt and you couldn’t help him?
Oh, Gods…
What if he was dead?
Your chest felt heavy, you could barely breathe… What would you do without Changbin? You could definitely survive with all the resources you had here, but the question was… did you want to?
What was the point of staying alive inside the Labyrinth without him?
You wanted to cry just thinking about it.
Tears were pricking your eyes, and it felt like your throat was closing up.
At least, until…
Thump…
Thump…
Thump…
Thump…
You pretty much jumped from where you’d been sitting on the floor, sprinted out of the den and into the corridor. At this point, you could recognise Changbin’s heavy steps like your own heartbeat.
Looking left and right, you were unsure where exactly he was coming from, since the echo seemed to be coming from every direction. After a few moments of panic, you finally saw him to your left, so you ran.
You barely heard him saying your name when you were close, you were too focused on getting to him. When you buried your face in his stomach, he immediately started to caress your hair.
“Shh, hey…” He mumbled, dropping whatever he had in his free hand so he could press his palm on your back. “Don’t cry”.
You were sobbing, and you hadn’t even realised it until he had pointed it out.
When you pulled away, you could barely see him through your blurry vision. With one of his knuckles, he gently wiped the tears running down your cheeks.
It was only then that you noticed them, the cuts and gashes that littered his whole torso. The sight had adrenaline rushing into your body immediately.
“Oh, my dear Gods! What happened to you?!”
“Kid was resilient”, was all he said when he pulled himself away from your hold. He bent down–with seemingly great effort–and took the bag that he’d dropped on the ground. “C’mon, need to… to lay down. Will tell you everything after…”
You took the bag from him immediately, and wrapped your free hand around one of his fingers to gently tug him forward–as if that would do anything…
It took several minutes for both of you to reach the den once again. As soon as you were inside, Changbin pretty much collapsed on the ground, and started instructing you to bring him all sorts of herbs from his garden along with some fresh water.
You got to work, following Changbin’s directions to clean him up, apply the freshly chewed mix of leaves on the open wounds, and dress them with whichever extra pieces of fabric you could find laying around. As you did this, he told you about the young man that had entered the Labyrinth.
Apparently, he was skilled enough to not only hurt Changbin, but also to essentially defeat him.
“All these years, no one has ever come this close to killing me…”
The concept of Changbin being killed made your heart ache, but you pushed the feeling away as you tried to focus on the task at hand, as well as to continue listening to him.
The young man had spared him. He’d told Changbin that he’d come into the Labyrinth out of his own free will because he was looking for something.
“Told him I’d help him find it if he let me live”, Changbin said once you’d finished dressing his wounds and he’d finally laid down on your nest.
“And? Did you?” You asked as you gathered two heavy jugs of fresh water to bring them to him. After all, two jugs were pretty much two glasses of water for him…
Changbin drank both jugs one after the other, each one in one gulp, offering a quiet ‘Thank you’ before he answered your question. “Yeah. Pointed him in the right direction, told him how to find the way to the spot he was looking for…”
You laid down next to him, and snuggled yourself as close as you could. Changbin pulled you even closer, and only then did he seem to fully relax, practically melting into your nest.
“He wanted me to go with him… But I was too hurt”, he mumbled against your hair, sounding just so incredibly tired. “Also… I had to come home. Needed to be here with you…”
You felt tears well in your eyes again. Holding him tight–being careful to not apply too much pressure on his wounds–you craned your neck, just so you could press a lingering kiss on his cheek.
Changbin exhaled a shaky breath with the motion, and, after pressing a few more pecks on his skin, you finally laid your head on his chest.
“Welcome home…” The words came out of your mouth as barely a whisper, mostly because you didn’t trust your voice right now. You were already feeling your whole body trembling as the tears started to fall again.
Changbin held you tight, pressing a final kiss on the crown of your head.
“Missed you, tiny human…” was the last thing to come out of his mouth before he passed out.
Caring for an injured giant was easier than you had expected it to be. Although, you’d admit that helping him wash up was a bit hard.
Not because you had to provide any sort of support when he got into a pond or anything like that, but mostly because Changbin insisted that he needed you in there with him.
He got extra whiny about it, but you didn’t let him coax you into it. Not because you didn’t want to, but because, if you did get naked with him in the water, you knew you’d get distracted and his wounds could suffer the consequences.
After a few days, he seemed to have regained most of his strength, and the cuts scattered over his body were healing nicely. Even then, he kept insisting he needed you to help him.
“If you want to see me naked, just say so”, you couldn’t hold that back any longer. The words just flew past your lips, and you knew they’d had the desired effect as soon as you saw the pink tint on his cheeks.
“I don’t–I mean, I do, but it’s not–” He was tumbling over his words, and it was absolutely adorable.
You stood up from where you’d been sitting cross-legged by the edge of the pond, and started toying with the belt of your chiton. He went quiet immediately, and his eyes zeroed in on the way you played with the fabric between your fingertips.
“Do you want to see me naked, Changbin?”
He blinked slowly for a moment, and his ears flickered cutely. “Maybe…”
“Maybe?” You untied the knot, and the garment immediately loosened.
You saw him swallow. His gaze remained fixed on your belt, like he was trying to somehow make it disappear completely.
“Changbin?” You called him again, and his eyes snapped back up to meet yours, giving you his undivided attention. “Do you want to?”
Changbin stared at you for a moment before he nodded. That tiny movement, coupled with the light blush on his cheeks made you feel… empowered. Which was something you had never really felt before in this context.
You’d heard other people tell you about it, you’d read about it in the romance novels you used to read, but you had never truly experienced it. That feeling, coupled with how pliant a literal giant like Changbin got when you so much hinted at being naked, filled you with confidence.
So you removed your clothes, and slowly, you went into the pond.
Changbin was sitting on the ground, which made it so you were almost at eye level with him. You could practically feel his eyes all over your body, leaving an almost searing sensation on your skin.
When you finally stood in front of him, his hands found your waist. Changbin pulled you closer, so your bodies could be flush to each other. With your arms around his neck, you leaned in for a kiss.
He held you tightly, but gently. You knew he was well aware of his strength, and you knew he liked to be careful so as to not hurt you, which you certainly appreciated.
When you pulled back from the kiss, Changbin brushed your nose against yours, making you giggle. As usual, it was moist, but you didn’t mind.
“You’re pretty”, he whispered the words against your shoulder, where he was pressing lingering kisses on your skin–being extra careful not to poke you with his horns.
“And you’re very handsome”, you replied simply, because it was the truth. Months ago, you hadn’t even known someone like him could exist, and here you were now, absolutely smitten by what most would consider an oddity.
“You think so?” He mumbled absentmindedly, dragging his hands all over your back. His large hands…
“Mm… I do think so”.
He pulled away so he could look at you. A smile had spread across his face, making his eyes turn into little crescents. It always made your heart flutter whenever he smiled, and it was certainly a contagious gesture.
Changbin kissed your cheek once, twice, thrice more, before he was speaking again.
“Y’know… I haven’t… I’ve never…” He sighed, frowning before he shook his head and started all over again. “Want to make you feel good, but I don’t know how”.
Your eyes widened a bit. Not because you didn’t know that he wouldn’t know how to make you feel good, but because he seemed to genuinely care about it.
“I can show you”, you caressed his shoulders briefly before you cupped his cheeks. “Then you can show me how to make you feel good, hm?”
Changbin nodded, rather enthusiastically, and it made you smile.
“There are… many places you can touch to make me feel good”, you dragged your hands down his arms, until you reached his hands and pulled them away from your back. “For example, here…”
You brought his hands to your chest, and he reflexively squeezed the flesh. “That feels nice, but… touch here”.
Taking a hold of one of his fingers, you guided it to your nipple. The rough pad of his fingertip dragging over the sensitive skin immediately had a shiver running up and down your spine.
He seemed to catch on very quickly, because the moment you let go of his hands, he immediately started to stimulate your chest. Between his motions and the cool water around you, your nipples stiffened further, and the first whimper came out of your mouth.
Changbin looked at you for a moment, like he was unsure if he had done something wrong, so you immediately reassured him.
“That’s good… Feels good”.
“Feels good?” He asked, adding a bit more pressure.
You nodded in confirmation, and then took a hold of his wrists. “Pinch them harder between your fingers”.
“Don’t wanna hurt you, though”, he sounded genuinely worried about it, which would’ve made you heart melt in other circumstances, but in these circumstances, you needed him to give you all he had–or, at least, all you could stand.
“Do it gradually, I’ll let you know ‘til when. Trust me?”
Changbin nodded, and immediately obliged. As soon as he reached the pressure that was just perfect, you let him know–in quite possibly the most desperate tone you’d ever mustered.
Your lips were on his thereafter. He tugged and pulled and stimulated your nipples in ways that had you moaning into his mouth, that seemed to be coaxing inhuman noises from deep within him.
Your centre was throbbing, desperate for some attention, so you pulled away from the kiss. You were met with Changbin’s blown pupils and flushed cheeks, a sight so incredibly delectable you started to seriously entertain the impossible. Would he fit…?
“Here, too”, you took a hold of one of his hands and brought it between your thighs, giving him enough space to manoeuvre. “You feel that bump?”
When the pad of his finger made contact with your clit you almost jolted in place, but you tried to stay focused as best as you could.
“Rub in circles. Gently”.
He complied, following the same motions as before, increasing the speed and pressure until you told him exactly how you liked it to be.
It all became a blur of moans and pants and bellows… All you could feel was the pleasure coursing through your body and Changbin’s warmth all around you. His teeth, his tongue, his lips, his fingers… He was working you up diligently, bringing you closer to the edge.
“So good…” You whimpered against his lips, just before your tongues were intertwined again.
Changbin nodded, almost mindlessly.
When you’d finally reached your climax, you did so with his name on your tongue. Repeating it over and over again like it was the only word you knew in this world.
You’d found pleasure on your own many, many times, but it’d never felt like this. You weren’t sure if it was the weight of your feelings for him, or if it’d been the thrill of having this experience with Changbin for the first time, but the way that orgasm seemed to be consuming every single one of your senses was absolutely mind-blowing.
He didn’t stop working you up until you asked him to. As soon as he did, you wrapped your arms around his neck and leaned your weight on him for support. Changbin held you tightly, lovingly caressing your back and pressing kisses on your shoulder as you caught your breath.
“Prettiest sounds I’ve ever heard…” He mumbled against your skin, and it made you laugh.
You felt light, like tonnes had just been lifted off of your shoulders. When you pulled away, you cupped his cheeks, and started peppering kisses all over his face, which made him giggle. So adorably you felt your heart swell in your chest.
“Now…” With one final kiss on his lips, you placed your hands on his chest, squishing the soft muscle. “You show me”.
A smirk made its way onto his lips, and after taking one of your hands, he moved it away from his chest to let it sink further underwater, until it met the warm, smooth skin of his length. He left your other hand on his chest, but instead of just letting it rest there, he guided your fingers to one of his nipples so you could gently rub your fingertip against it and play with the jewellery.
“I’ll show you”, he emphasised his words by using his hand to coax your hold around his cock to tighten. Your fingers didn’t even meet as you held him, and the thought, along with the feel, made you feel dizzy with arousal. “Will show you anything. Everything…”
‘You think this could… fit you?’ Changbin had shyly asked you a couple of weeks ago, when he offered you one of the silver hoops he usually wore on one of his horns. Where he got the idea to do that was beyond you, but it honestly didn’t matter, it made you giddy all the same.
It did fit–as an armlet, at least. It was purely material and maybe even a bit vain, but having this item on you at all times simply made you feel tingly. It made your heart swell in your chest and it had butterflies fluttering in your belly.
It felt significant, in a way. Kind of like… like your own version of a wedding band.
In the past, you had never been excited about being a bride, or about being someone’s wife. But you realised things could change.
Changbin had certainly changed you. You would’ve never imagined that your death sentence would be the thing to actually help you feel alive, and yet, that was exactly what had happened to you.
Did you sometimes have bouts of fury and rage because of how unfair everything that you’d gone through had been?
Yes.
Did you want all those officials to die a very painful death for judging you the way they did?
Also yes.
But at least, here, you found your place. You found love.
Because you loved Changbin. Horns and tail and hooves and all. Even with his annoyingly big cock that you knew you’d never be able to fit inside you without tearing you in half, even then, you loved him. Truly.
It took only a visit from that young man he had encountered months ago for you to fully realise it.
He’d appeared out of nowhere, on a random day. Changbin had put himself between you and the young man, but the boy wasn’t a real threat, he’d come just to ask for help to find something else within the Labyrinth.
It was over supper that he’d talked to you, right there in front of Changbin.
‘Don’t you want to go back to the surface? I know a way out…’
You could still remember how Changbin’s tail started to thrash anxiously behind him, but he didn’t say anything. He’d just fixed his eyes on the floor, slowly chewing his food. He didn’t interrupt or even attempt to divert the conversation. Back then, at least to you, it felt like he was getting ready to accept whichever decision you took.
‘Why would I go back? This is my home. There’s nothing up there for me’.
And when you’d said it, you truly meant it.
This was your home… but it wasn’t the Labyrinth.
It was all Changbin.
You’d wandered the Labyrinth together for a few days after that, helping that young man look for the mysterious artefact he needed. It’d been an adventure for sure…
When you were back in your cosy den after that little adventure, Changbin had given you the thick hoop, your armlet. You’d gotten so used to wearing it, you sometimes forgot you had it on.
At least, until you caught a glimpse of it in your peripheral vision, like you did just now. Somehow, the reminder of its existence further fed the fire that was burning bright in the pit of your stomach.
The feel of Changbin’s hands on your hips, gripping you tightly–as tight as he knew your body could handle–made you moan. The feel of him, hard and warm against your folds had your mind all fogged up and hazy, especially when he was under you like this, guiding the movement of your hips to increase the pressure of your centre grinding against his bare length, trapping it between your core and his abdomen.
“Mmm… fuck…” He whined under his breath, staring at the place your bodies connected, at the way your slick cunt dragged against his cock.
You nodded in agreement, rather eagerly, because you couldn’t bring yourself to say anything. Not when the way you were essentially humping him felt this incredibly good.
With your hands on his chest, both for support and so you could play with his nipples in just the way he loved so much, you chased that sweet, sweet relief that’d been steadily growing closer to you since you sat on him however long ago. The pressure on your clit was just absolutely perfect like this, especially when he was pushing you down and assisting your own movement.
“Changbin, darling, I’m… fuck, want to…” You could barely speak, but you knew he understood you perfectly, because he had you moving faster, he pushed you down harder, making your eyes roll to the back of your head.
Before you knew it, you were trembling with your release. The only thing keeping you from collapsing was Changbin’s tight hold, but you still tried your best to keep moving, to keep providing him with as much pleasure as you could.
With a broken plea of your name, the first of many shots of thick cum spouted from the tip of his cock. The results of his orgasm’s were, of course, proportional to his size. He always seemed to produce bucket-loads of cum whenever he came, drenching his whole torso, and you in the process.
Changbin looked so, so pretty like this. Flushed, whining, bellowing, desperately rutting into you to make the most out of his release. You didn’t care that you were close to the point of oversensitivity, you just wanted to continue seeing him like this for as long as it lasted.
When the final spurt of cum landed on his abdomen, the tight grip he had on your hips loosened. The lack of his support made it so that you simply collapsed on top of him, gasping for air.
Oh, how fulfilling it was to hear his increased heartbeat against your ear, to feel his warm cum sticking to you…
You both laid there for a moment, just enjoying the feel of one another and catching your breaths.
Changbin had to act a bit quickly after coming, though. Otherwise his cock would retreat into its sheath covered in his drying cum, which could not only become a gross mess, but also cause him real, painful problems the next time he got hard.
So as soon as he regained his strength, he was moving, carrying you in his arms and getting you both inside the nearest pond to get cleaned up.
You always helped him, of course. Just like he helped you.
Getting to bathe each other felt intimate, like a bonding experience, so you enjoyed it.
You barely spoke to each other during these moments. You just took the time to further enjoy the other’s body in a more profound way.
It wasn’t until you were out of that pond, dry, in a fresh set of clothes, and huddled together in your cosy nest that he was finally speaking again.
“I really like it when we do it like that…” He mumbled against your hair, softly dragging his fingertips on your back.
You chuckled softly, pressing a soft peck on his collarbone. “Is it better than when you fuck my thighs?”
Changbin inhaled sharply, placing his free hand on your bum. “It’s different. It’s easier to come together this way”.
You hummed, smiling in amusement at the comment.
There was silence for a while, but you knew he was awake. If he hadn’t been, the soft caresses on your back would’ve stopped already.
The armlet shone in your peripheral vision, and you were reminded once again that this was your home. That you belonged here.
“Changbin?”
He hummed to let you know he was listening, not stopping the movement of his hands.
“Why didn’t you kill me when you found me wandering the Labyrinth?”
Changbin was quiet for a while, until he nuzzled your hair before he placed a kiss on the top of your head.
“I recognised your voice”, he replied simply. “You fed my friends. You didn’t have to, but you did it anyway. They always appreciated it, and I couldn’t help but appreciate it, too”.
You pulled yourself away from his hold a bit, enough to look him in the eyes. “Can you imagine if I’d never spoken in the forest? Or if I never fed the birds? You would’ve eaten me”.
He frowned. “Don’t wanna think about that. Besides, you did do it. Why think about the past like that?”
You smiled at him, just before you pressed a quick peck on his lips.
As you buried your face further in the crook of his neck, and started to feel the pull of sleep on your body, you figured Changbin was right.
There was no point in thinking about the past. No point in dwelling on the what-ifs. The only thing that mattered was the present, and the future you hoped to have with him here, in your home.
Author’s Note x2: i came into this expecting this story to be nothing but filth and a horny mess, not... whatever this ended up being. it definitely didn’t go the way i thought it was going to go when i had originally read that ask, but, y’know… the little lizard in my brain just does whatever it wants. i’m happy with it, and, if you made it this far, i hope you enjoyed it, too.
especial thanks to @notastraykid and @channieskies for reading this before anyone else and for giving me their valuable opinions and suggestions.
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Constructive feedback (or even keysmashes, really) is always welcome :) feel free to leave your comments in the caption/tags when you reblog, or by sending me an ask !
bout one of the best things i have EVER read at 1:32 in the morning.
guys this got my panties in a twist in the best way possible cause WDYM CHANGBIN IS 9'8??? UHHMM?? IM SOAKKKED??????????
this unleashed some hidden things in me that i didnt know i had guys WHAT.
this was insane and i love it KEEP WRITTING DOOKABUTT!!!
"ever since you came into my life, you taught me all about unconditional love."
♡ pairing ៸៸ angel!felix x afab!reader genre ៸៸ angst, fluff, smut ៸៸ cw ៸៸ brief mentions of sexual assault, depression, suicide attempts, drug and alcohol abuse, blood, domestic abuse (physical, verbal, and emotional), minho is an asshole (sorry), very much a slowburn (felix is YEARNING.) hyunjin is also in this fic as an angel. smut cw: loss of virginity, slightly inexperienced felix, unprotected p in v, vanilla af tbh
♡ synopsis ៸៸ after watching you struggle for so long, your guardian angel falls for you, and ends up breaking celestial laws just to be in your presence.
a/n ๑ i tried a different writing style for this story, it took me about three weeks to finish. this was kind of inspired by felix's unfair mv. the concept of him as an angel suits him so well. i'll put content warnings but please read at your own risk, there will be heavy heavy topics mentioned in this fic. - mostly proofread.
[ 17k words ]
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♡ m.list
felix was there. he was always there, before you even realized it.
life hadn’t been easy for you—that much had been clear for as long as you could remember. your mother walked out of your life when you were only three, and not long after, your father succumbed to liver failure, leaving you orphaned and adrift in a world that seemed designed to crush you. without a family to hold you, to remind you that you mattered, you became just another number in the system, another child shuffled between homes like a piece of lost luggage.
your belongings were carried in a garbage bag, a cruel reminder that you were never meant to stay anywhere long enough to unpack. foster care was supposed to provide a sense of stability, but instead, it felt like a series of cold exchanges, your worth measured in paperwork and stipends.
things took a darker turn when you were placed with your first long-term foster family. at first, you thought the word "long-term" might bring relief—a chance to settle, to belong—but it quickly became a prison sentence. you realized, with bitter clarity, that "long-term" didn’t mean better; it just meant more time to endure. and endure, you did, wishing with every passing day that their home had been just another brief stop on the endless conveyor belt of placements.
the mother was controlling, piling chores onto you to the point where your schoolwork was neglected, causing you to nearly fail your first year of middle school. the father was lazy and critical, spending his evenings in a recliner with a beer in hand, quick to judge but offering no help around the house. unknown to the foster care system or the foster mother, he had a disturbing habit of sneaking into your room at night under the guise of wanting to "cuddle."
it wasn’t until he started trying to undress you that you realized this wasn’t something that was normal between fathers and daughters.
but yet, you stayed silent. afraid of making them angry. you knew it wasn’t right, what he was doing to you, but they were giving you a home. something you had been wishing for for several years. you didn’t want to pass that up just because some gross dude lifted your nightgown for a measly 5 minutes 3 times a week.
you stayed in that home for about 2 years until they got tired of you. finally, you were free from that prison.
however, the weight never stopped piling on top of you, the feelings never stopped rising. you didn’t realize it because you were too young, but remembering what that sick fuck did you was enough to leave you nauseous for a few days. you found yourself stuck in your head, constantly feeling his fingertips grazing your inner thigh, his mouth on yours, still smelling the faint odor of alcohol on his breath.
you hated yourself for letting it slide. for letting him get away with it. you resented yourself for being so fucking afraid all the time. why didn’t you just speak up? why were you so fucking pathetic? the thoughts whirled in your head constantly.
you had no idea that the flood of dark, tormenting thoughts in your mind was the reason felix came into your life. the first time he truly saved you was when you were just 14.
it was late at night, and you were alone in the bathroom you shared with three other foster girls, each of them sleeping in the room just outside. the door was locked, and your back was pressed against it, the cool wood digging into your skin as tears soaked your cheeks. your fingers trembled as they gripped the little pill bottle in your hand, eyes locked on it as your lip quivered, the weight of the moment almost unbearable. you didn’t know how much longer you could keep going.
everything in you was screaming to stop the noise inside your head, to stop the endless thoughts that tore at your mind. but there was one thing you couldn’t escape—your heart was still beating, and no matter how hard you wished for it to stop, it wouldn’t. so, with a quiet curse, you made up your mind. you were done.
the pills felt like stone as they hit your throat, each one a bitter reminder of everything that was falling apart. you gagged, struggled to swallow, but you forced them down, one after another. you locked yourself in that bathroom, barricading yourself from the world, and for what felt like an eternity, you sat there, on the edge of breaking, hoping for something—anything—to stop the pain.
only for a mere moment was the world quiet around you, the kiss of death just barely brushing your lips..
until something strange happened. it was like the very essence of life itself surged through your body, jolting you upright from where you had been slumped on the cold tile floor. the world spun out of control, and your body betrayed you in the most brutal way—it took everything you had to keep yourself upright as you lurched toward the tub. your stomach heaved violently, the contents of your body fighting against the poison you had just forced in.
sweat dripped down your face as you vomited, shaking uncontrollably, your body a hot mess of fear and desperation. it was a moment of raw panic as you realized, in the haze of your disorientation, that you were still alive. the wave of disappointment hit you like a freight train—how could you still be here? how could it not have worked? you wanted nothing more than to disappear in that moment, to fade into nothingness.
but he was always there.
a couple of years passed, and you were adopted by a family who genuinely cared for you. they said they loved you, and you told yourself you loved them too—or at least, you thought you did. but you could never quite tell if your feelings for others were genuine or just surface-level mimicry. you heard their words of love, but you never felt it in the way people described—the flutter in your chest, the warmth in your stomach.
instead, there was only emptiness.
you had a family that cared, hot meals, a safe home. by all accounts, it should have been enough. so why wasn’t it? why did you feel a persistent ache for something more?
high school offered a temporary escape, at least for a while. you had a knack for finding trouble—running with the wrong crowd, skipping class to get high or spend hours making out with whichever guy you were dating at the time. in those moments, everything felt exhilarating. the thrill of breaking rules filled you with a rush, and being with them made you feel whole, even if only briefly.
but when you were alone, the emptiness crept back in.
in solitude, every thought became louder, every feeling sharper, relentless in their assault. the weight of it all was unbearable. whether you realized it or not, you were slowly self-destructing, losing the spark and vitality that once defined you as a child. this wasn’t the gradual "loss of innocence" that comes with growing up—it had been stolen from you. and instead of clinging to what little remained, you shoved it all away, forcing it into a dark, unrelenting void of pain and regret.
the second time felix saved you was when you were 16.
it was a night that seemed like any other, until everything changed in an instant. you and your boyfriend had been at a party, the music loud and the laughter even louder, but the night took a turn the moment you got in the car. he had been drinking heavily. you tried to convince him to let someone else drive, but he insisted, too drunk to even form a coherent argument. you told yourself it would be fine—he was your boyfriend, and he promised he was fine to drive.
but it wasn’t fine.
the crash came so suddenly, you didn't even have time to brace yourself. the screech of tires, the sudden force of the impact—everything spun, and then there was silence.
when you opened your eyes again, the world was a blur, the harsh sound of sirens breaking through the ringing in your ears. your body was heavy, and the pain was overwhelming. you couldn’t move your arm, and it felt like you were sinking into the seat, your head throbbing with every heartbeat. you reached for it, fingers trembling, feeling blood dripping from your hairline.
your trembling hand reached up instinctively, grasping at anything to try and level yourself while twisted in the vehicle, but it ended up brushing against something warm and wet—blood. it was everywhere. at first, you thought it was just yours, but then you looked to your side.
your boyfriend was there, slumped unnaturally in the driver’s seat. his head hung at an angle that made your stomach twist, and his chest didn’t rise. his face, once so familiar and full of life, was pale and lifeless. for a moment, the world stood still as your mind grappled with the impossible reality in front of you.
you called his name, your voice barely more than a croak, but there was no response. the quiet was suffocating. hot tears blurred your vision as panic overtook you. you reached for him, shaking him, begging him to wake up, but it was no use.
the realization hit you like a cold wave, and you couldn’t breathe, couldn’t process the weight of it.
at that moment, the pain in your body was nothing compared to the weight in your chest. the boy you thought you’d share so many tomorrows with was gone, and you were left drowning in the wreckage of a life that would never be the same.
it was then that you felt it—the presence of someone, something, familiar but impossible to explain. there was a warmth, a sense of calm in the chaos. the sound of voices in the distance didn’t seem so muffled anymore. you could hear the paramedics, shouting instructions, but you felt... distant, almost like you were floating outside of your own body.
“stay with me,” someone was saying, but it wasn’t the paramedics.
“i’m here. you’re going to be okay,” a deep, yet soft male voice rang. the words weren’t loud, they weren’t even clear, but they were enough to settle you, just enough to make the panic simmer down into something manageable. you had no idea how it got there, but the voice was a tether.
you tried to respond, tried to speak, but your body wasn’t cooperating. the world seemed to shift and swirl again, and then you were in an ambulance, being rushed to the hospital.
the moments after the crash were a blur of bright hospital lights, sterile smells, and the constant beeping of machines around you.
the doctor had placed you into a medically induced coma due to the amount of drugs and alcohol in your system, as well as your severe brain injury. it took some time for your family to arrive at the hospital, but felix stayed with you. he was by your side the whole time you lay there.
later on, your eyelids fluttered open, your lashes brushing against the dryness of your skin, and it took a few moments for your eyes to adjust to the harsh white light above you. blinking slowly, you tried to clear the fog in your mind, forcing your surroundings into focus.
beside your bed, there was a chair. empty. the sight of it hit you like a wave of loneliness. your mind raced. had someone been sitting there? had someone been waiting for you to wake up?
before you could let yourself fall into the quiet despair of it, something caught your eye—a flash of movement. at first, you weren’t sure if it was real or just a trick of your disoriented mind, but there it was again. a figure. a blonde figure dressed all in white, moving swiftly past the door and out of the room.
your heart skipped a beat, your breath catching in your throat. it happened so quickly, you didn’t even have time to process it fully. just a flicker of someone in white, someone you couldn’t place, and then they were gone, disappearing down the hallway like a phantom.
you tried to call out, tried to move, but your body refused to cooperate. you were too weak, too broken, too tethered to the machines that kept you alive. who had that been? was it someone you knew?
but before you could think any more about it, the pain returned, sharp and immediate, and all you could do was close your eyes, hoping for a moment of peace. even as your mind raced, as uncertainty flooded you, you couldn’t shake the thoughts, your mind wondering if what you saw was real or just a hallucination from your drugged-up state.
felix spent countless hours studying you, observing the subtle ways you shifted in your sleep, the way your body would tense when you were about to face the next wave of agony. he wasn’t supposed to be so emotionally attached, not in the way he found himself. angels were meant to be impartial, neutral—protective, but not emotionally involved. and yet, as time went on, felix found himself more and more drawn to you, his gaze lingering longer than necessary, his thoughts turning to you even when he wasn’t near. it was a kind of fascination, but it was also something deeper, something he hadn’t experienced before.
it always pained felix to watch you struggle. it was his job, of course, as your guardian angel, but that didn’t necessarily mean he liked it. his role was simple, or so it was supposed to be—guide, protect, watch over you—but there were moments when it felt like a weight he could barely carry. watching you hurt, seeing the toll life had taken on you, it gnawed at him in ways he couldn’t quite explain. it wasn’t just about keeping you safe; it was about witnessing your inner turmoil, the pain you couldn’t escape, and knowing he could never truly take it away. he could intervene, sure, but only so much.
he became fond of you. at first, it was a quiet awareness—a soft sadness in his chest when he saw your tears, a feeling of helplessness when he couldn’t stop you from making the same painful decisions over and over again. but it grew. he watched how you pushed through your struggles, how you fought to keep living despite everything that weighed you down. there was a quiet strength in you, an undeniable resilience that made him both proud and heartsick.
sometimes, when you were at your lowest, felix would find himself feeling your pain. it wasn’t just an awareness, it was a visceral ache that seemed to pulse through him as if your suffering was his own. and that was strange. he wasn’t supposed to feel anything—least of all the sharp, gut-wrenching pain that you carried with you. angels were above human emotion; they were supposed to observe, not participate. but there it was. he would feel your despair, the weight of your grief, the crushing exhaustion in your heart as if it were his own.
he’d try to push it away, to block it out, but it lingered. it was becoming harder and harder to ignore.
after the accident, he had watched you slip into that coma, felt the void of your absence, and during the time you were unconscious, it was like a part of him had gone with you. the pain he felt as you fought to survive, the pull of your fragile life, had him teetering on the edge of something unfamiliar. he wasn’t supposed to care this much. he wasn’t supposed to let himself be moved by your suffering. but he was. and it terrified him.
felix could barely stand it. he was so close, so close to you, but always just out of reach. he couldn’t touch you, couldn’t make you understand that he was there. he had to stay hidden, an invisible force in the shadows. it was one of the many rules he was tasked to follow.
but he was there. and he was watching, as he always did. every time you moved, every time you cried out, his heart cracked just a little more. there were moments when he wished he could reach out, hold you, tell you it would be okay. but he couldn’t. his purpose was to guide you, not to console you the way a person could. and yet, he longed to.
it was strange. it was almost as if, in trying to save you from the darkness, he was losing himself in the process.
he was supposed to help you without complications. but oh boy, did it become complicated.
“why do you seem down?” hyunjin asked felix, his shoes clacking against the marble floor of felix’s room. felix lay on his sofa, deep in thought. it took him a few seconds to finally answer. “she’s not doing well again,” he said lowly, the sound of sadness apparent in his tone. hyunjin walked over and sat next to him, letting out a soft sigh. “the same stuff?” he asked, referring to your depression.
felix just hummed in response and nodded, laying his head back down as he stared off into space. “i can't do anything to help her.” he muttered eventually, disappointment in his tone.
hyunjin studied felix quietly, his own expression a mixture of concern and confusion. angels weren’t supposed to form such deep attachments. they were guides, protectors—meant to observe and intervene only when absolutely necessary. but felix... felix was different.
"you care about her more than any angel i’ve ever seen care for their human," hyunjin said softly, his voice tinged with a cautious curiosity. "it’s not... wrong, exactly, but it’s not normal either."
felix didn’t respond right away. his gaze was distant, locked somewhere far beyond the room they were in. finally, he spoke, his voice barely above a whisper."she’s been through so much, hyunjin. more than anyone should ever have to endure. and she keeps going, even when it feels like the world is crushing her. but it’s wearing her down. i can see it in her eyes, hear it in her thoughts."
hyunjin frowned, leaning back on the sofa. "you’ve saved her before. more than once. isn’t that enough? isn’t that what we’re supposed to do? intervene when necessary and then... let go?"
felix sat up abruptly, running a hand through his hair in frustration. "let go? how can i let go when every time i turn my back, she’s falling deeper into the darkness? i can feel her pain, hyunjin. it’s like it’s… carved into my being."
hyunjin tilted his head, watching his friend carefully. "you’re more human than you think, felix," he said quietly, almost to himself.
felix’s head snapped toward him, his expression a mix of surprise and defiance. "what’s that supposed to mean?"
"it means," hyunjin continued calmly, "that maybe you care so deeply because you understand her in a way most angels don’t. you don’t just see her struggles—you feel them. that connection... it’s rare, felix. but it’s also dangerous."
felix looked away, his jaw tightening. he knew hyunjin was right, but that didn’t make it any easier to accept. "i just want her to be happy," he said finally, his voice breaking slightly. "i don’t care if it’s dangerous or rare or whatever else you want to call it. i just can’t stand to see her like this."
hyunjin reached out, placing a hand on felix’s shoulder. "maybe it’s time to think about what she really needs. sometimes, saving someone doesn’t mean fixing everything for them. it means being there, quietly, in the background, until they find their own strength."
felix sighed, his shoulders slumping under the weight of hyunjin’s words. he didn’t know if he could do that—if he could stand by and watch you struggle, hoping you’d pull through on your own. he had been waiting several years for this, for you to come to, for you to get better. it didn’t seem achievable because of how much you were obviously hurting still.
but deep down, he knew hyunjin had a point.
all he could do was stay close and hope his presence, even unseen, would make a difference.
a few more months passed, and felix found himself at his breaking point. watching you spiral further into despair was more than he could bear. he had always been bound by the sacred rules of his kind. yet, with every passing day, those rules felt like chains, holding him back from giving you the comfort and hope you so desperately needed.
he began to push the boundaries, leaving subtle signs of his presence. a faint warmth brushing your skin during your loneliest nights, the sudden scent of vanilla randomly wafting through your room–his signature scent.. or the soft flutter of a breeze indoors when no windows were open. felix hoped these tiny gestures would remind you that you weren’t alone, that someone was watching over you. sometimes you’d swear you’d wake up in the middle of the night, feeling eyes on you in your bedroom.
but he knew he was treading dangerous ground. revealing himself to the living, even indirectly, was a direct violation of celestial law. angels were forbidden from crossing into the mortal plane unless absolutely necessary—and certainly not for personal reasons. every time he bent the rules, felix felt the weight of disapproval from the higher realms, but he didn’t care.
all he cared about was you.
eventually, felix realized that his subtle gestures weren’t enough to ease your suffering. the flickers of warmth, the faint scents, and the soft breezes weren’t making the impact he hoped for. so, he made the decision to go further, breaking the rules more boldly than ever before.
what started as occasional visits to watch over you as you slept turned into a nightly ritual. every night, without fail, felix would enter your room, his presence unseen, and settle himself beside you on the bed. he would sit propped against the headboard, his fingers brushing gently through your hair in soothing strokes. this was the only time he saw you truly at peace—your expression free of the sadness that weighed you down during your waking hours. your mind was finally quiet, your face soft and serene, and seeing you like this brought felix a strange sense of solace.
he didn’t feel out of place lying beside you. on the contrary, it comforted him to know that, even if you couldn’t feel his presence, he was there for you during your most vulnerable moments. but simply being there wasn’t enough for him. he wanted you to know you weren’t alone, even if you didn’t understand the source.
so, he started leaving a single white rose in your apartment, always in a spot he knew you’d notice. the first time you found one, you panicked. your thoughts immediately jumped to the idea of a stalker. it would explain the strange sensation you sometimes felt while sleeping, as though someone was watching over you. but no one had a key to your apartment, and you were sure you hadn’t misplaced a spare. there were no signs of forced entry, no broken locks or jimmied windows. and living on the tenth floor of a building without a balcony made the idea of anyone sneaking in seem impossible.
yet, every wednesday, like clockwork, the roses appeared. each time you came home from work, you found one waiting for you—sometimes placed carefully on your pillow, other times resting on the kitchen counter where you always dropped your keys.
the mystery of the roses consumed your thoughts. you couldn’t shake the eerie feeling of being watched, but at the same time, something about the gesture felt... kind. even as the fear lingered, you couldn’t deny the strange comfort the flowers brought, like a small, silent promise that someone cared.
you’d sit for hours, turning the possibilities over and over in your mind, desperate for an explanation. the only theory that felt remotely plausible was that it might be a deceased family member—perhaps your father—reaching out to you from beyond. maybe he was watching over you, leaving these gifts as a sign of his presence.
but even that felt like a stretch. you’d never been one to believe in the supernatural. ghosts, spirits, angels—it all seemed too far-fetched. yet, the roses told a different story. they appeared in your locked apartment without any logical explanation, and the sheer impossibility of it all began to chip away at your skepticism.
the more you thought about it, the more your disbelief wavered. you still couldn’t bring yourself to fully accept the idea of something otherworldly, but a small part of you began to wonder: what if there was more to this world than you’d always believed?
it wasn’t until a little later into your adulthood that felix fell for you. he fell for you in a way that was more than he ever thought possible, a deep, unshakable kind of love that bloomed quietly in the recesses of his heart. it wasn’t sudden—it was a slow, inevitable tide, creeping up on him as he spent day after day watching over you, silently observing the subtle shifts in your life, the quiet struggles you faced, and the moments of fleeting joy that seemed to light up your world in spite of it all.
the more he watched you, the more deeply he felt connected to you. he could see the way you smiled when you thought no one was looking, the way your eyes shimmered with a mix of hope and pain, and how you carried your burdens with such quiet strength. he admired your resilience, but it tore at him too. each time he saw you frown in frustration or collapse into exhaustion after a long day, it felt like a jagged piece of glass scraping against his soul. the desire to be close to you—to be there for you—burned inside him like wildfire, something so powerful and raw, he couldn’t contain it.
felix found himself drawn to you in a way he couldn’t explain. he watched you laugh with your friends, saw you comfort a stranger, witnessed the quiet moments when you thought no one cared. and in every one of those moments, his heart ached. it ached because he longed to be the one to make you smile, to ease the weight on your shoulders, to tell you that he understood in ways no one else could. he wanted to be the one who held you when the world felt too heavy, who whispered comforting words when you couldn’t find any of your own.
he wanted—no, needed—to talk to you. to introduce himself, to somehow, impossibly, let you know that he knew you better than anyone else ever could. he knew your scars, your fears, your dreams. he had watched you grow, silently and from a distance, always just out of reach. and every part of him screamed to speak, to tell you everything he had seen and felt as he quietly admired the person you had become. every thought he had about you, every observation, every small detail, every fleeting moment, was carved into his soul.
but as much as he wanted that, he knew he couldn’t. he wasn’t supposed to be here, to be seen by you. he was bound by laws that held him away, that kept him a silent observer, a watcher in the dark. his love for you—his desperate, consuming love for you—was forbidden. and yet, it consumed him more than anything else. he ached with the overwhelming need to be near you, to somehow make you feel what he felt, to break the invisible barrier that kept him at arm’s length.
felix would continue to visit at night, his form hidden in the shadows of your room, listening to your breathing, watching your peaceful face as you slept. he would run his fingers through your hair, wishing he could tell you everything. he would hold his breath, praying you would stir, that maybe, just maybe, you would feel him there, his presence lingering like a soft touch, a whispered promise. the thought that you might never know how deeply he loved you—it was unbearable.
felix wanted so badly to be noticed, to have you turn and see him. he wanted you to know, not just that he existed, but that he had been there all along, watching over you, loving you from afar. he wasn’t some fleeting presence, some passing moment. he was here. he had always been here. and all he wanted was for you to know that.
god, he loved you so fucking much. in a way that was all-consuming, in a way that made every moment of separation feel like a quiet ache in the deepest parts of him. he loved you in a way that was both impossible and undeniable. and it terrified him, because he knew he could never have you—not truly. he could only watch. and in doing so, he was bound by something even greater than the laws that kept him from you. he was bound by the love he could never express, the feelings he could never act upon.
and that was the cruelest part of it all—he loved you more than anything, but he could never truly have you.
felix leaned against the door of his home in the astral plane, his body feeling as though it was made of stone, weighed down by the crushing pressure of what had just transpired. his mind was a whirlwind of chaotic thoughts, still reeling from the conversation he had mere moments ago. the higher realms had caught on to his increasingly reckless behavior. he had always known there would be consequences, but hearing the words from the voices of the celestial council made the reality of it all hit him like a bolt of lightning.
a warning, they had said. a warning that if he continued this way—if he kept breaking laws, bending the rules, and daring to reveal himself to the mortal world—he would be cast out. disowned. stripped of everything he had ever known. his immortality would be taken from him, and the wings that had always been a part of him, the wings that had given him his identity, would be severed. he would be cast into the human world, forced to live among those he had been forbidden to touch, to exist as one of them—fragile, finite, and utterly alone.
felix’s chest tightened as the weight of their decree settled over him. he was horrified, and in the pit of his stomach, he felt a deep, aching sense of loss. the thought of being cast down, of losing the eternity that had once defined him, gnawed at him. he had existed for so long in the celestial realms, watching over worlds, knowing his place, and now that place felt as though it was slipping away from him, just as quickly as his heart had fallen for you.
he didn’t want to stop seeing you. he didn’t want to stop visiting you, to stop offering you the comfort he could give from the shadows. the mere thought of no longer being able to watch you, no longer being able to quietly support you from the distance he had grown to cherish, felt like an ache so deep, it was like his very soul had been torn in two.
but at the same time, felix was terrified. terrified of what it would mean if he allowed himself to follow this path, if he let his emotions run wild, if he dared to embrace this connection he had with you. to lose his place among the celestial beings, to lose the very essence of who he was, the very reason he existed—it was too much to bear.
he closed his eyes, gripping the edge of the door as though it might anchor him in the reality he so desperately wanted to hold onto. his heart raced, torn between two worlds—his love for you, and the celestial duty that had once defined his every action. the love he felt for you was dangerous, forbidden, but it was real. the kind of love that carved deep into his chest, raw and desperate, a love that made him question everything he had ever known about his purpose. but was it worth losing everything? was it worth abandoning the very thing that had given his life meaning—his immortality, his place among the divine?
felix didn’t know. he didn’t know if he could make that choice.
all he knew was that the fear of losing you—of being cast away, disowned—was as terrifying as the thought of losing himself.
felix found a small measure of peace when you started dating someone—a coworker named minho. though it pained him to see you with someone else, the thought of minho being there for you when felix couldn’t brought him some comfort. from what felix observed, minho was kind and attentive, and that was enough to keep felix at ease, even if it hurt to stay in the background.
still, felix couldn’t bring himself to leave entirely. he continued to watch over you, always vigilant, ensuring that minho treated you the way you deserved.
but something shifted in your world, something that didn’t escape your notice. once minho entered your life, the roses stopped appearing in your apartment. at first, you didn’t think much of it, but as the weeks went by without a single flower, a strange pang of disappointment settled in your chest.
you hadn’t realized how much you’d grown attached to the mysterious gifts until they were gone. you had even gone out of your way to display them in a vase, replacing the wilted roses with fresh ones every week, as if honoring the unseen hand that left them. the absence felt odd, almost unsettling.
it didn’t take long for the thought to creep back into your mind: what if it really had been a stalker? but you dismissed it just as quickly as it came. there were no signs of forced entry, no evidence to support the idea. and besides, minho was with you now. if something truly dangerous were happening, surely he would have noticed too.
still, the timing nagged at you. the roses had stopped the moment minho came into your life. was it just a coincidence, or was there more to it? you couldn’t shake the feeling that you’d lost something special—something silent and unseen, but deeply meaningful.
as your relationship with minho deepened, felix began to notice troubling changes in his behavior. at first, it was subtle—offhand remarks about the way you did things or minor criticisms disguised as jokes. but over time, those comments grew sharper, more frequent, and far harder to ignore. minho started nitpicking every little thing you did, blaming you for even the smallest mistakes, and turning minor missteps into significant issues.
it didn’t take long for felix to piece together the truth: minho was a narcissist, and worse, an abusive one. his behavior escalated rapidly. the once seemingly harmless complaints turned into outright yelling. he began getting in your face during arguments, his voice laced with venom, his demeanor intimidating. felix watched helplessly as minho’s anger grew darker, his threats becoming more pointed.
the shift terrified felix. there were moments when minho’s fury burned so hot that felix feared he might follow through on his threats. each time minho’s hand twitched or his voice reached a dangerous pitch, felix braced himself, sick with worry that this time, it wouldn’t stop at words.
countless nights, felix lingered nearby, his unseen presence heavy with fear and frustration. the thought of you being seriously hurt haunted him. despite his duty to remain in the background, every fiber of his being screamed to intervene, to shield you from the storm brewing in your own home.
as your relationship with minho continued and his behavior spiraled further into toxicity, you began to notice something strange: the inexplicable occurrences in your apartment had returned. the faint, sweet scent of vanilla began lingering in the air once more, subtle yet unmistakable. it crept into your senses at odd times, reminding you of a feeling you hadn’t experienced in months.
even more unsettling was the distinct sensation of being watched while you slept—something you’d felt before but had long since faded when minho entered your life. it was subtle at first, a gentle prickling at the back of your neck or the softest shift in the room’s energy. unlike most people, who might have been terrified by the idea of an unseen presence in their home, you felt an odd sense of comfort.
this wasn’t the unease of being stalked or the fear of danger. it was familiar, almost nostalgic, as though the presence itself carried a quiet reassurance. it reminded you of nights when you used to feel a strange sort of peace in your solitude, a solace that had seemed to vanish when minho came into your life.
you came home late wednesday night to find minho sitting at the kitchen island, his posture rigid and his expression already clouded with annoyance and barely concealed anger. you sighed inwardly, bracing yourself for yet another confrontation and wondering what you could have possibly done this time to provoke his ire.
before you could speak, your eyes fell on the white rose lying on the counter in front of him. your breath hitched, and your heartbeat quickened as unease settled deep in your chest. you had a feeling you knew exactly where this was going, but you forced yourself to play dumb, hoping to defuse whatever storm was brewing.
“what’s that?” you asked cautiously, your gaze darting between the rose and minho’s piercing glare.
he let out a humorless chuckle and lifted his head to meet your eyes. “you’re asking me?” he said, his voice calm but laced with an edge that sent chills down your spine.
you swallowed hard, struggling to steady your hands as you fidgeted with your fingers. “i don’t know. i didn’t—”
“come on, y/n,” he interrupted, his tone dripping with condescension. “i’m not stupid. i didn’t give this to you, so who did?” his voice was eerily calm, but his expression betrayed his barely contained fury, which was far more unsettling than when he was openly yelling.
“i-i don’t know, i swear,” you stammered, your voice trembling as you searched his face for any sign of reason.
minho’s jaw tightened, and his fist slammed against the counter, the sharp sound making you flinch. he stood abruptly, towering over you as his eyes narrowed. “bullshit. you got it from a guy. who is he? do i know him?”
“no, minho! i haven’t talked to any guys today!” you cried, your voice rising in desperation as your body began to shake.
“you’re lying,” he hissed, his gaze unwavering and his presence suffocating. he reached for the rose, running his fingers along the delicate petals as though mocking its fragility.
“i’m not,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper.
minho studied you for a moment, the silence stretching into something unbearable. then, with a sudden burst of violence, he clenched the rose in his fist, ripping the petals from the stem and scattering them across the counter. “clean this shit up. i don’t want to see any more flowers around here,” he snarled before shoving past you and storming toward the hallway.
something inside you snapped. “no,” you said firmly, the word escaping your lips before you could stop yourself.
minho froze mid-step, turning slowly to face you with a mixture of shock and fury. “what did you just say?” he asked, his tone low and dangerous.
“i said no,” you repeated, your voice steady despite the fear twisting in your stomach. you stood your ground, glaring at him with a defiance you didn’t know you possessed.
his surprise faded quickly, replaced by a dark, menacing rage. in an instant, he closed the distance between you, raising his hand and striking you across the face. the sharp sound of the slap echoed through the room, and the sting of his palm seared into your cheek.
before you could even process the pain, a loud crash shattered the tense silence. both of you turned toward the counter, where shards of glass from the vase that once held your white roses lay scattered. the vase had shattered violently, though neither you nor minho had touched it, and you were both too far away for it to have been accidental.
minho stared at the broken glass, his face contorting in confusion and unease. for the first time, you saw a flicker of something unfamiliar in his eyes—fear. and for a brief moment, it felt like the air in the room had shifted, heavy with something unexplainable, something beyond either of your control.
“get the fuck out,” you spat, your voice trembling with both rage and sorrow as you shoved minho away from you. your lip quivered, and your heart pounded in your chest. he stumbled backward, his usual composure shattered as he stammered, trying to piece together words to defend himself.
“out!” you screamed, your voice breaking as tears began streaming uncontrollably down your face. you clutched your stinging cheek with one hand, the pain of his slap mingling with the ache in your chest.
minho hesitated, his face flickering with disbelief and hesitation, but eventually, he relented. grumbling under his breath, he grabbed his things and left, the door closing behind him with a finality that echoed through your apartment.
the silence that followed was suffocating, oppressive in its stillness. you stood frozen for a moment, staring at the broken glass scattered across your kitchen floor. your legs gave out beneath you, and you plopped onto the cold tile, your back pressed against the refrigerator as a sob wracked through your body.
you cried harder than you had in months, your tears falling freely as every ounce of frustration, anger, and pain came pouring out. you were furious—with minho, with yourself, with the cycle you seemed unable to break. why had you let it get this far? why did you allow another man to mistreat you, just because you were terrified of being alone again?
the realization cut deeply, leaving you raw and exposed. you told yourself then and there that you were done. done with minho, done with letting people like him have power over you. and this time, you meant it.
true to your resolve, minho didn’t bother you again. after a week of silence, it was clear that he wasn’t coming back, and for that, you were relieved. but relief didn’t erase the damage he had done.
in the aftermath of the breakup, you found yourself slipping back into the darkness you thought you had left behind. nights were the hardest. some, you spent curled up in bed, crying until exhaustion finally claimed you. others, you lay wide awake, staring at the ceiling as the all-too-familiar numbness crept over you, settling into your chest like an unwelcome guest.
the emptiness was back, deeper and more consuming than ever. it felt like your heart was a hollow shell, incapable of feeling anything but the ache of its own vacancy. and as the days blurred into weeks, you couldn’t help but wonder if this was all you were destined for—cycles of pain, brief reprieves, and an ever-present void you could never seem to fill.
one night, as you drifted off to sleep, your dream took an unusual turn. in the depths of slumber, you saw flashes of golden blonde hair and a face so captivating it felt almost otherworldly. he had plump, soft lips, a delicate button nose, and a constellation of freckles scattered across his skin. his presence was magnetic, his beauty striking yet gentle.
at first, the dream was fleeting—a quick glimpse of him before the scene shifted into the usual randomness of your subconscious. but as the nights went on, he began appearing more frequently. his visits weren’t long, just brief moments where you saw his face, a sense of comfort and calm washing over you before he would vanish again into the recesses of your mind.
though you never spoke to him, you could feel him there. his presence was undeniable, and oddly familiar, as though you knew him from somewhere. the more you dreamed of him, the more he felt like a guardian, someone watching over you from the shadows.
what you didn’t realize was that this wasn’t just a figment of your imagination. it was felix. after weeks of struggling to find ways to be closer to you without breaking the celestial rules, he decided to take a different approach.
he was hesitant at first, unsure if entering your dreams would be too bold, too much of a risk. but he couldn’t stay away. the idea of reaching you in this subtle, intangible way felt like the perfect compromise—a chance to be near you without disrupting the delicate balance of your reality.
so, he appeared to you in fragments, carefully choosing each moment. the dreams were his way of offering comfort, a gentle reminder of his presence, even if you couldn’t fully understand what it meant yet. to felix, it was enough to know he was there for you, even if only in the quiet hours of the night.
the dream started like many others—hazy and indistinct, with colors blending together in a soft, swirling mist. you were standing in a field bathed in moonlight, the grass cool beneath your bare feet. a gentle breeze carried the scent of vanilla, a fragrance that had lingered faintly in your waking hours.
and then, you saw him.
he emerged from the mist like a figure out of a painting, his golden hair glowing faintly in the silver light. his face, with its constellation of freckles and gentle, piercing eyes, was heartbreakingly beautiful. he stopped a few paces away, his gaze locked on yours. for a moment, neither of you spoke. the silence wasn’t uncomfortable, but charged with something unspoken—something familiar yet strange.
"who are you?" you asked finally, your voice trembling as if afraid to break the spell. his lips curled into a soft smile, and he tilted his head slightly. "you already know me," he said, his voice like a melody, soothing and warm. your brows knitted together, confusion flickering across your face. "i don’t think i do."
"you’ve felt me," he said gently, taking a cautious step closer. "in the quiet moments. when you’ve been at your lowest. i’ve been there." the realization hit you like a wave, a shiver running down your spine. "the roses..."
he nodded, his expression tender yet tinged with sadness. "i didn’t mean to frighten you. i only wanted you to know you weren’t alone."
"but why? why me?" you whispered, a lump forming in your throat.
his gaze softened further, and he crouched slightly to meet your eyes more closely. "because i care about you more than you’ll ever know. i’ve watched over you, protected you, even when you didn’t know i was there."
your breath hitched, the weight of his words sinking in. "are you... an angel?"
felix hesitated for a moment, then gave a small nod. "yes. and breaking every rule to talk to you like this."
"why now?"
"because i can’t bear to see you in pain anymore," he admitted, his voice cracking just slightly. "you’ve been through so much, and i... i couldn’t stay silent any longer."
tears welled in your eyes as you took a step closer, your hand reaching out instinctively. he didn’t pull away, but you hesitated, your fingers hovering just above his. "this doesn’t feel real," you murmured.
"but it is," he assured you, his voice firm yet gentle. "i’ll be here as long as you need me, whether you see me or not."
the dream began to blur around the edges, the mist creeping back in. "wait," you pleaded, your voice tinged with desperation. "will i see you again?"
felix smiled softly, his golden hair shimmering in the fading light. "always."
and then he was gone, leaving only his signature scent and the lingering warmth of his presence behind as you woke, tears still fresh on your cheeks.
“you did what?” hyunjin asked felix, surprise evident on his expression. felix bit the inside of his cheek before he quietly repeated himself. “i.. visited her in her dream.” he mumbled.
hyunjin stared at felix, his eyes wide as he leaned against the railing of their astral plane. the soft glow of their surroundings illuminated the disbelief on his face. "you visited her in her dream," he repeated slowly, as if trying to process the gravity of felix's words.
felix nodded, looking away. "i couldn’t just watch her suffer anymore. she needed to know she wasn’t alone."
hyunjin ran a hand through his dark hair, letting out a sharp exhale. "do you have any idea how reckless that was? visiting the living in their dreams might not be as bad as full manifestation, but it’s still breaking the rules."
felix’s gaze hardened, his usual softness replaced with a rare defiance. "i don’t care about the rules anymore, hyunjin. they don’t help her. she’s falling apart, and i can’t just stand by and do nothing."
hyunjin crossed his arms, his expression shifting from surprise to concern. "i get it, felix, i do. but you’ve been walking a thin line for a while now. leaving roses, lingering in her presence... do you really think the higher-ups won’t notice?"
felix clenched his fists at his sides. "let them notice. let them punish me if they want. but i won’t regret it. not for her."
hyunjin softened at felix's conviction, his features losing their edge. "you really care about her, don’t you?"
felix’s eyes glistened as he nodded. "more than anything. she’s been through so much, hyunjin. no one deserves that kind of pain. if i can be the one thing that brings her some comfort, i’ll take any punishment that comes my way."
hyunjin sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. "you’re not going to stop, are you?"
"no," felix said firmly, his voice steady despite the weight of his words.
there was a moment of silence as hyunjin studied his friend, his lips pressed into a thin line. finally, he relented with a small shake of his head. "alright. if you’re going to keep doing this, at least let me help you cover your tracks. if they find out what you’re doing, it won’t just be a slap on the wrist, felix. it’ll be exile—or worse."
felix’s eyes widened in surprise, gratitude quickly replacing the shock. "hyunjin, you don’t have to—"
"i know i don’t have to," hyunjin interrupted, his tone sharp. "but you’re my friend, and i’m not about to let you face this alone."
felix smiled faintly, the weight on his shoulders feeling just a little lighter. "thank you."
hyunjin sighed again, this time with a hint of exasperation. "don’t thank me yet. i’m not sure what kind of mess we’re getting into, but i have a feeling it’s going to get a lot worse before it gets better."
felix’s smile didn’t waver. "it’ll be worth it."
hyunjin shook his head with a wry smile, muttering under his breath. "you’re hopeless."
but despite his grumbling, he didn’t leave felix’s side. if felix was going to fight for you, hyunjin would make sure he didn’t do it alone.
the dreams for the next few nights unfolded as they always had—flickers of unspoken moments and hazy images that faded like sand slipping through your fingers. but this night was different.
the air around you shifted as the dream took form. you were no longer in a familiar place but somewhere entirely foreign and breathtaking. marble floors stretched endlessly beneath your bare feet, their white, polished surface reflecting soft, golden light from above. the room seemed to glow, not harshly, but with a serene brightness that made you feel weightless.
and then there was the scent—vanilla, rich and warm, filling the air like an embrace. it washed over you, soothing every frayed nerve and quieting the lingering chaos in your mind.
before you could fully process the setting, he appeared.
felix stepped out of the light as though it had created him, his form entirely whole this time. his white tunic draped elegantly over his lean frame, the fabric flowing as if it were alive. his blonde hair, wavy and radiant, seemed to catch the ambient glow, each strand moving with an ethereal lightness. but it was his face—those delicate features, framed by a constellation of freckles, and eyes that held galaxies—that truly caught your breath.
you couldn’t look away.
the space between you and felix was vast, yet he began to close the distance, his steps slow and deliberate, as though each one was meant to reassure you. his gaze, warm and unwavering, never left yours.
your heart pounded in your chest, each beat a mix of confusion, awe, and an unexplainable comfort. "you’re back," you whispered, your voice trembling but filled with a strange relief.
felix’s lips curved into a gentle smile, and as he stopped a few feet away, his presence felt like the missing piece of a puzzle you hadn’t realized you were trying to solve.
"i promised i would be," he said softly, his voice carrying the same calming warmth as the vanilla in the air.
the marble beneath your feet felt cool, grounding you as you tried to steady your breathing. "where are we? what is this place?"
felix glanced around, his expression serene yet thoughtful. "a reflection of the in-between. it’s not quite your world, not quite mine."
you frowned slightly, tilting your head. "why are we here?"
his gaze softened further, and he took another cautious step toward you, his hands loosely clasped in front of him. "because. i needed to see you again."
your breath hitched, the vulnerability in his voice cutting through the dreamlike quality of the moment. "this feels... so real," you murmured, reaching out instinctively, though you stopped short of touching him.
"it is," felix replied, his voice a quiet assurance. "as real as it can be."
you hesitated for a moment, staring at his outstretched hand. it was so close, yet it felt like reaching for something impossibly distant. your heart raced as you extended your trembling hand toward him once more.
“can i... touch you?” you asked again, your voice quieter this time, as if afraid he might vanish if you spoke too loudly.
felix’s expression softened further, his lips curving into a smile so warm it felt like sunlight breaking through a storm. “you can,” he said, his voice gentle, almost reverent.
you reached out, and when your fingers met his, a jolt of warmth spread through you like ripples in still water. his skin wasn’t just soft—it was otherworldly, as if every molecule hummed with energy, radiating life and something deeper, something unnameable.
you gasped softly at the sensation, your fingertips brushing along the back of his hand. “it’s like… you’re made of light,” you murmured, your voice filled with awe.
felix chuckled softly, the sound low and soothing. “in a way, i suppose i am,” he replied, his thumb lightly brushing against your knuckles. “but what matters is that i’m here. with you.”
the weight of his words hit you, and your breath caught in your throat. you looked up at him, your eyes searching his for answers. “why are you doing this?”
his expression became more serious, though his touch remained tender. “because you deserve to feel loved, to feel cared for. you’ve been carrying so much for so long, and i couldn’t stand to see you bear it alone.”
your lips quivered, and tears began to well in your eyes. you fought them back, but the sheer kindness in his words made it impossible. “i don’t understand,” you whispered, shaking your head slightly. “why me? i’m nobody special.”
felix’s dark eyes softened even further, and he took a small step closer, his presence as overwhelming as it was comforting. “you are special,” he said firmly, his voice filled with quiet conviction. “you’ve survived so much, endured what most wouldn’t. you have a strength you don’t even realize.”
the tears spilled over then, and he reached out to gently brush them away, his touch featherlight. “you don’t have to do it alone anymore,” he said, his voice a vow. “i’m here. for as long as you’ll let me be.”
you stared at him, your heart swelling with emotions you hadn’t felt in years. gratitude. hope. maybe even something more.
but before you could speak, the dream began to shift, the bright marble surroundings fading into soft mist. you panicked, reaching for him as the world around you dissolved.
“felix, wait—don’t go!” you cried, desperation in your voice.
he cupped your face in his hands, his gaze locking onto yours with an intensity that made the fading dream still for a moment. “i’m never far,” he promised, his voice steady and unshakable. “call for me, and i’ll come.”
and then he was gone. you woke up clutching your hand to your chest, as if trying to hold onto the feeling of him for just a little longer.
the memory of his words and his touch stayed with you, and for the first time in a long while, you felt like maybe—just maybe—things could get better.
you found yourself spending more and more time with felix in your dreams, sharing conversations that ranged from the mundane to the profound. each night felt like peeling back another layer of his essence, and the bond between you deepened in ways you never imagined possible. he spoke to you with a sincerity that left you feeling safe and cherished, sharing stories of his watchful presence over the years, recounting moments when he had intervened in unseen ways to keep you safe. the weight of knowing just how much he had done for you was both humbling and overwhelming.
the concept of a guardian angel was still difficult for you to wrap your mind around—an ethereal being solely dedicated to protecting you. but even harder to believe was the fact that felix was yours. all yours.
felix never outright told you how much he cared for you, though you began to sense it in the way his gaze lingered, in the warmth of his words, and in the gentle way he reached out to comfort you. he held himself back, aware of your past pain, and was careful to move at a pace that respected your healing. he wanted to be patient, to give you all the time you needed, even as his feelings for you grew with each passing moment.
what he didn’t know was that you were falling for him just as quickly. the connection between you felt as natural as breathing, as though the universe itself had woven your fates together. the once-dreamlike visits began to feel more vivid and tangible, as if the line between the dream world and reality was slowly blurring.
by the time a month had passed, seeing him each night had become as natural as the sun setting. you found yourself eagerly anticipating the moment you would drift off to sleep, knowing he would be there waiting for you, his presence offering you a kind of solace you hadn’t felt in years. it was no longer just a dream; it was a sanctuary. a place where you could be yourself, free from judgment, and bask in the warmth of someone who truly cared.
of course, it didn’t last. how could it? luck had never been on your side, and this fleeting comfort seemed no different. without warning, felix was gone. the dreams you once eagerly anticipated were now nothing but empty darkness, leaving you tossing and turning in your bed, haunted by the void his absence created. you replayed your last conversation over and over in your mind, searching for any clue, any indication of what might have gone wrong. everything had seemed so normal—he was attentive, warm, and genuinely happy to be with you. there was no sign that anything was amiss.
the silence left you with nothing but questions. had you said something to offend him? had he grown tired of you? the thought gnawed at you, stirring feelings of abandonment and self-doubt. yet, what you didn’t know—what you couldn’t know—was that felix hadn’t chosen to leave. felix had gotten into trouble. big trouble.
far away from the sanctuary of your dreams, felix stood before the higher celestial realms, his head bowed in silent shame. the luminous expanse was unlike anything mortal eyes could comprehend—a vast court of blinding light, with entities of immeasurable power seated upon towering thrones of radiant energy. their voices were neither spoken nor heard but resonated directly within his being, each word a vibration that seemed to shake the very fabric of his existence.
“you have broken our most sacred laws, felix,” the central figure intoned, its voice a perfect balance of wrath and sorrow. “angels are not to reveal themselves to the living. and yet, you have not only shown yourself—you have formed a connection.”
felix clenched his fists at his sides, his golden head still lowered. “i couldn’t stand by and watch her suffer anymore,” he admitted, his voice steady despite the gravity of his situation. “she needed me. she needed someone.”
the entity’s light flared brighter, casting long shadows that seemed to pull at felix’s very essence. “your intentions may have been pure, but your actions were reckless. you risked exposing our realm to the mortal plane and disrupted the natural order.”
another voice, colder and sharper, chimed in. “you allowed emotion to cloud your duty. this is not love; it is folly. and now, you must face the consequences of your defiance.”
felix finally lifted his head, his freckled face set with quiet determination. “if loving her is a crime, then i will accept whatever punishment you deem necessary. but i don’t regret what i’ve done. she was alone in a way no one should ever have to be.”
the celestial beings exchanged glances, their forms shifting and flickering with the intensity of their deliberation. finally, the central figure spoke again, its tone heavy with finality. “felix, you are hereby stripped of your ability to interact with her. you will be confined to the astral plane, unable to enter her dreams or manifest in her presence. should you attempt to defy this order, the consequences will be irrevocable.”
the words struck him like a physical blow, and felix staggered, his heart aching with the weight of his punishment. to be kept away from you, to be forced to watch your pain from a distance without being able to comfort you—yet again–it was torment.
but there was nothing he could do. with a final flash of light, the court dissolved, and felix was left alone in the vast, endless expanse of the astral plane, his physical connection to you severed.
back in your world, you sat on your bed, staring at the clock as tears streamed down your face. the weight of his absence was unbearable, a silent ache that pressed against your chest. you whispered his name into the dark, hoping against hope that he could hear you, not knowing that he was out there, whispering your name too.
felix could still watch over you, still fulfill his celestial duties to keep you safe, but it wasn’t the same. something had shifted—an invisible barrier now confined him to the most basic of his responsibilities. no longer could he visit your dreams or stand by your side as you slept, even if you couldn’t see him. it tore at him. every part of him yearned to return, to let you know he was still there, to reassure you in the way only he could.
he could feel the ache of your unanswered questions, the way you were consumed by his sudden absence. you were falling deeper into a loneliness that clawed at your soul, a loneliness that made his punishment feel like a knife twisting in his chest. he knew you were hurting in ways you hadn’t felt in a long time, and the knowledge that he was the cause—however unintended—made it all the more unbearable.
winter came, and with it, you began to fade. the heavy, suffocating emptiness seeped back into your life, wrapping itself around you like a cold, unrelenting fog. your appetite vanished, and the simplest tasks became insurmountable. you stopped answering texts, ignoring calls from friends you hadn’t spoken to in weeks—some in months. but you couldn’t bring yourself to care.
nothing mattered anymore because nothing could fill the void felix had left. you tried, briefly, to shake the feeling, but no one could make you feel the way he did. felix had ruined you for anyone else, his presence so uniquely comforting and irreplaceable that his absence felt like a gaping wound.
felix watched helplessly, his golden light dimmer than it had ever been. he saw the way your energy drained, the light in your eyes fading. he knew he was the one thing that could pull you out of this darkness, and yet, he was forbidden from reaching you. he spent countless moments wrestling with his own helplessness, the longing to be with you tearing him apart.
in the nights that followed, as you lay in your bed staring at the ceiling with tear-streaked cheeks, he whispered your name softly into the void, desperate for you to hear, even if he knew it was impossible. all he could do was hope.
the dark feelings were relentless, clawing at the edges of your mind, whispering venomous lies that you couldn’t escape. for months, they lingered, festering in the absence of light. no friends, no family, no felix—just you and the unyielding barrage of your thoughts. you had tried to fight it, to push forward, but the weight of it all was suffocating.
one cold winter night, as the world outside lay silent under a blanket of snow, you sat at the edge of your bed, staring at the empty room around you. the loneliness felt louder than any noise could. enough was enough, you thought. the hollow ache in your chest felt unbearable, and you saw no way out.
you grabbed a piece of paper and a pen, your hands trembling as you began to write. words spilled out, raw and unfiltered—apologies to those you thought might care, explanations for your decision, and an overwhelming sense of defeat. the letter wasn’t long; it didn’t need to be. when you finished, you folded it neatly and placed it on your nightstand.
the pills sat in the cabinet for months, untouched but always there. you retrieved them now, your breath shaky as you poured them into your palm. one by one, they gleamed under the dim light of your bedside lamp, little capsules of finality. you clutched them tightly, tears slipping down your face, mingling with the numbness that had overtaken you.
but just as you raised your hand, the room shifted. the light flickered, a sudden gust of vanilla-scented air brushing against your skin. it was so sudden and so familiar that your hand froze. the bottle slipped from your grasp, clattering to the floor, pills scattering across the wooden boards.
and then you saw him.
felix stood before you, his form shimmering like an ethereal beacon against the darkness. his golden hair glowed faintly, his freckled face etched with desperation and anguish. he looked at you, and for a moment, you could see the pain in his eyes—a reflection of your own.
“don’t,” he whispered, his voice cracking with emotion. “please don’t.”
your breath hitched as you stared at him, unsure if he was real or just another cruel trick of your mind. “you… you left me,” you choked out, tears streaming freely now. “i thought you were gone forever.”
“i didn’t want to go,” felix said, stepping closer, his presence radiating warmth. “they made me. but i couldn’t stay away anymore. i can’t lose you.”
you felt his hands, warm and soft, cupping your trembling ones. the faint buzz of energy that accompanied his touch was a reminder of the bond you shared. “i’m so sorry,” he murmured, his voice filled with guilt. “i failed you.”
“no,” you whispered, shaking your head. “you didn’t. i just… i can’t do this anymore, felix. i can’t keep feeling like this.”
“you’re not alone,” he said firmly, his golden eyes locking onto yours. “you never were, and you never will be. i’ll fight for you, even if it costs me everything. but you have to promise me something.”
“what?” you asked, your voice barely audible.
“promise me you’ll hold on,” he said, his hands tightening slightly around yours. “even when it’s hard, even when it feels impossible. i’ll be here. i’ll always find a way to be here.”
the intensity of his words wrapped around you like a lifeline. for the first time in months, a glimmer of hope pierced through the suffocating darkness. you nodded, tears spilling as you whispered, “i promise.” felix pulled you into his arms, his embrace warm and grounding. for a moment, time stood still, and the only thing that mattered was that he was here.
felix’s comfort only lasted a fleeting moment. his golden eyes, filled with relief as he cradled your face, suddenly clouded with pain. his expression twisted, and with a sharp intake of breath, he dropped to his knees beside your bed. his hands clutched at his chest as if trying to hold something unseen together, his gasps turning into strangled cries.
"felix?" you called out, panic lacing your voice as you knelt beside him, your hand pressing firmly against his trembling shoulder. the warmth of his skin beneath your touch felt fleeting, fragile, like it was slipping away. "what’s happening? tell me!"
he tried to speak, his lips parting, but no words came. instead, he groaned, his body convulsing slightly as though an unbearable weight pressed down on him. his anguish was palpable, his gasps ragged and labored, his entire form shuddering under some invisible force.
then, a sound—a haunting, visceral snap—echoed in the air, like the ripping of fabric mixed with the grotesque crunch of bone. felix’s head shot back, and he let out a heart-wrenching wail that cut through the room like a blade. his back arched unnaturally, his hands clawing at the air as if trying to grasp something that was no longer there.
you froze, horrified, as the source of his agony became clear. through the thin white cloth of his shirt, you saw it—two jagged, open wounds on his back, seeping blood that shouldn’t have existed. the fabric clung to the injuries, staining crimson as the bleeding continued.
"felix, what’s happening?!" you cried, your voice trembling as your heart raced wildly in your chest. you tried to steady him, your hands gripping his shoulders, but he flinched, his body recoiling from the touch like it burned.
he groaned again, his voice hoarse and broken. his glowing, ethereal presence dimmed before your eyes, his radiant skin now pallid and sallow. the faint hum of electricity you always felt when you touched him—gone. even the scent of vanilla, so comforting and familiar, seemed to fade, replaced by the metallic tang of blood.
his breathing was ragged, shallow, and his entire form quivered with agony. "no... no..." he muttered weakly, his voice barely a whisper.
"felix," you choked out, your tears blurring your vision. you pressed your hands to his face, your touch desperate. "please, what’s happening to you? tell me what to do!"
he looked at you then, his eyes swimming with sorrow and pain so profound it felt as if it might shatter you. his voice was barely audible, cracked and broken as he rasped, "they’ve... taken it... everything. my wings... my grace..."
your breath hitched, your mind reeling as the realization dawned on you. felix wasn’t just in pain—he had been exiled. stripped of his celestial essence, cast down to a mortal existence for breaking the sacred laws he once upheld.
tears streamed down your face as you tried to support his trembling body, your heart breaking at the sight of him so vulnerable, so human. "you’re bleeding," you whispered, your voice trembling as you pressed your hands against his back in a futile attempt to stem the flow.
"it doesn’t matter," he said, his words slurred with exhaustion. "i... i couldn’t stay away. i knew this would happen, but i couldn’t leave you... not like that."
the weight of his sacrifice hit you like a tidal wave, and you sobbed openly, clutching him tightly as he collapsed against you. felix’s breaths were shallow, his body heavy and weak as he leaned into your embrace.
"you shouldn’t have done this," you murmured, your voice cracking with guilt and despair.
"i had to," he whispered, his voice barely audible. "i love you.."
felix’s whispered confession hung in the air like a fragile thread, his words trembling with vulnerability. his golden eyes, dulled by exhaustion, searched yours for a reaction. the weight of his love—of everything he had given up—pressed against your chest, making it hard to breathe.
"i love you," he repeated, stronger this time, as if saying it louder could convince you of its truth. his hand, trembling but resolute, reached up to touch your cheek, his thumb brushing away your tears. "i’ve loved you for so long... even before you knew i existed. watching over you, seeing your pain, your strength... i couldn’t stand to just watch anymore. i couldn’t lose you."
tears streamed down your face as you cupped his face, his skin warm beneath your palms but lacking the celestial glow you’d once marveled at. "felix," you choked out, your voice thick with emotion. "you gave up everything for me. how could i ever be worth that?"
his lips curled into a faint, pained smile. "you’ve always been worth it. you’re worth every punishment, every scar, every moment of this mortal life. i would do it all over again just to see you safe, just to be with you."
you shook your head, overwhelmed by the intensity of his words. "i don’t deserve this. i don’t deserve you."
"yes, you do," he countered, his voice steady despite the exhaustion weighing him down. "you deserve to be loved, truly loved, in a way that heals instead of hurts. and if i’m the one who can give that to you, then i’ll bear whatever it takes."
his words cracked something open inside you—a dam you’d been holding back for so long. the love you felt for him, so deep and consuming, poured out all at once. "felix, i love you too," you confessed, your voice trembling. "i’ve been so scared to admit it, even to myself, but i do. i love you more than i’ve ever loved anyone."
felix’s eyes widened, glistening with tears of his own, and for a moment, the weight of the world seemed to lift. his arms, though weak, wrapped around you tightly, pulling you into a desperate embrace. "you don’t know how much it means to hear you say that," he murmured against your hair.
you clung to him, your heart aching with both love and fear. "but what happens now? you’ve already lost so much because of me."
felix pulled back just enough to look at you, his expression resolute despite the pain etched into his features. "we’ll figure it out together," he promised. "no matter what comes next, i’m not leaving your side. not now, not ever."
his words were a lifeline, a tether to hope in the storm of uncertainty surrounding you.
as felix’s promise lingered in the air, his golden eyes searched yours with such intensity that it felt as though time had momentarily stopped. despite the anguish and exhaustion etched into his features, there was an undeniable pull between the two of you—something raw, something unspoken.
your fingers instinctively moved to his face, brushing back the damp strands of hair that clung to his forehead. he leaned into your touch, his eyes fluttering shut for a brief moment as if savoring the simple intimacy of it.
"felix," you whispered, your voice barely audible, "you're all i have."
his gaze snapped back to yours, filled with equal parts tenderness and desperation. "and you're everything i’ve ever wanted."
before you could reply, felix closed the distance between you. his lips met yours in a kiss so gentle it felt like it could break with the wrong move. there was no hesitation, no uncertainty—just the unyielding truth of your shared emotions spilling into each other.
his kiss deepened as his trembling hands cupped your face, pulling you closer, as though he feared you might slip away if he let go. you felt the warmth of him, even in his weakened state, and the love he poured into that single moment overwhelmed you.
your hands gripped the fabric of his shirt, anchoring yourself to him as the kiss turned more urgent. the pain, the fear, the heartbreak—they all melted away, leaving only the two of you and the fire igniting between you.
felix broke the kiss briefly, resting his forehead against yours, his breathing ragged. "i can’t lose you," he murmured, his voice trembling with raw emotion. "not again. never again."
"you won’t," you promised, your voice steady despite the tears still streaming down your face. "i’m here. i’m not going anywhere."
as if reassured by your words, felix pulled you closer, his lips finding yours again with renewed fervor. his kisses were desperate yet tender, an unspoken apology for the pain you’d endured and a silent vow to never let you feel that way again.
something inside felix had snapped. whatever holy laws that prevented him from feeling this primal, sinful desire for you, they were long gone. something about kissing your lips, tasting you, drinking you in.. drove him into high gear. his hands were never ending in their exploration of your skin, roaming your body under your clothes. soft hums of appreciation left his lips as they danced hungrily against yours.
his love and affections for you were obvious.. but this instantly grew beyond an emotional depth, and he wanted to claim you. in this instant, it was more than wanting to care for you emotionally. he longed to satisfy your every desire, offering you the most exquisite sensations a human could experience. he wanted to give you even the slightest taste of heaven, even if he was no longer an angel.
his injuries and newfound pain were at the back of his mind–his main focus was you. finally, it was you.
your hands slid up his arms, feeling the tension in his muscles as he held onto you like you were his lifeline. his body was warm, his presence grounding, and for the first time in what felt like forever, the crushing weight of your loneliness lifted.
the heat between you grew, felix’s touch becoming bolder as he brushed his hands down your sides, hesitant yet yearning. you felt his fingers tremble slightly, a reminder of his fragile state, but he didn’t pull away. instead, he held you tighter, pressing kisses along your jawline and down to the curve of your neck.
"felix," you whispered, your voice catching as his lips lingered on your skin.
he paused, his breath warm against your collarbone as he pulled back just enough to meet your gaze. his eyes were filled with love, devotion, and a vulnerability that took your breath away. "tell me if this is too much," he said softly, his voice hoarse but steady.
"it’s not," you replied, your own voice trembling. "but.. your back. you’re hurt."
felix’s lips quirked into a faint smile, his golden eyes softening even as his hands remained firmly on your waist. “don’t worry about me,” he murmured, his voice low and reassuring. “this… what i’m feeling right now, being here with you… it’s worth any pain. i’m fine.”
you searched his face, uncertain, your fingertips brushing over his cheek. the warmth of his skin, the sincerity in his gaze, soothed your lingering doubts. “but felix—”
“i want this,” he interrupted gently, his voice carrying a rare firmness. his hands slid up your sides, steady despite their earlier trembling, until they rested just below your ribs. “i want you. i’ve wanted you for so long, and now that i have you here, i’m not going to let anything take me away from you again.”
your heart clenched at the conviction in his words. the love in his gaze was overpowering, a force you couldn’t fight against even if you wanted to. “you’re sure?” you asked softly, needing his confirmation, your fingers brushing through his disheveled hair.
he exhaled shakily, leaning his forehead against yours, his breath mingling with your own. “i’m more sure of this than i’ve been of anything in my existence. i’ve spent so long watching over you, loving you from afar. i don’t want to hold back anymore.”
felix tilted your chin gently, capturing your lips in a kiss that felt different from before. it wasn’t just hungry or desperate—it was tender, deliberate, filled with a quiet intensity that made your knees weak. his hands moved down, gripping your hips and pulling you closer, as though he couldn’t stand even an inch of space between you.
his lips trailed down your neck, leaving a warm, tingling trail that made your breath hitch. he paused again, his voice barely above a whisper. “tell me if you need me to stop,” he said, his fingers curling into the fabric of your shirt.
you shook your head, your voice steady despite the rush of emotions swirling within you. “i don’t want you to stop, felix. i want you.”
at your words, felix released a shaky breath, his lips curling into a soft, relieved smile that sent a shiver down your spine. slowly, with a tenderness that belied the intensity of the moment, he grasped the hem of your shirt and began to lift it. the fabric slid over your skin with ease, leaving your stomach exposed to the cool air, and you felt your heart pounding like a drum in your chest.
you raised your arms, allowing him to remove the shirt entirely. the loss of its warmth left goosebumps in its wake, your skin tingling from the sudden exposure. felix’s gaze dropped, and you swore you saw his pupils dilate, his golden eyes darkening with something primal, something raw. his breath hitched as his gaze lingered on your bare skin, your braless chest rising and falling with each shallow breath. the chill of the room had already peaked your nipples, and the sight seemed to unravel him further.
a low, guttural sound escaped him, almost like a growl, as he leaned in. his lips brushed against the center of your chest, pressing soft, reverent kisses that made your breath catch. each touch was deliberate, tender, and filled with a worshipful intensity that made your mind spin.
his lips moved slowly, leaving warm trails across your skin as he kissed the delicate curve of one breast, then the other, lingering as though savoring every moment. the sensation sent jolts of heat coursing through your body, your chest heaving under his touch. felix took his time, his lips and hands mapping the contours of your body with a devotion that left you trembling.
your thoughts were a hazy blur, consumed by the realization of how intimate this moment was. felix—the celestial being who had once been tasked with shielding you from harm, who had watched over you like a guardian star—was now here, touching you in ways that felt both sinful and sacred.
his hands, his lips, his every movement felt as though they belonged there, as if this connection between you was meant to be all along. the contrast of what he once was and who he was now only deepened the intensity of the moment.
“i want to see more of you,” felix murmured, his voice low and thick with longing. his hand cupped the underside of your breast, his touch reverent, almost trembling. you met his gaze, your heart fluttering at the vulnerability in his eyes, and nodded slowly, offering him a soft smile.
standing, you reached for the knot on your pajama pants, untying it with shaky hands. felix’s eyes never left you, his gaze intense, watching every movement as if memorizing it. meanwhile, he began unbuttoning his pristine white shirt, the fabric catching slightly against his trembling fingers.
when the shirt finally slipped from his shoulders, you caught your breath. his honey-toned skin glowed faintly under the dim light, a stark contrast to the jagged wounds on his back and the fading bruises across his neck. he winced, a hiss escaping his lips as the shirt grazed the sensitive injuries, but the pain seemed to dissipate the moment his eyes landed on you.
you’d reclined on the bed, your pajama pants now discarded, leaving you in only your underwear. the soft light kissed your skin, highlighting every curve, and felix froze, his heart racing so wildly he thought it might burst.
he moved closer, his hands steady despite the overwhelming emotions coursing through him. leaning down, he pressed a kiss to each of your bent knees, his lips warm and tender against your skin. his hands trailed down your thighs, his fingertips grazing your soft flesh with a featherlight touch, as if afraid he might break you.
“felix?” you spoke, your voice shy and a little hoarse from the intensity of the moment.
“yes, my love?” he murmured, his tone soothing and steady, even as his lips brushed the sensitive skin of your inner thigh.
“how do you…” you hesitated, your cheeks burning as your voice dropped lower, “know what to do? i thought angels couldn’t—”
felix chuckled softly, the sound warm and reassuring. his hands continued their slow, adoring exploration of your skin, his lips hovering just above your thigh. “you’re right,” he said, his voice rich with affection. “angels don’t… but i’ve watched humans for centuries. seen their moments of love, of passion. i may not have experienced it before, but the thought of touching you, of being with you like this…” he paused, lifting his gaze to yours, his golden eyes filled with unwavering devotion. “it’s instinctual. it’s like i was made to know how to love you.”
his words sent a shiver through you, your chest tightening at the raw honesty in his voice. “felix…” you whispered, your hands reaching to cradle his face, your thumb brushing his cheek.
he leaned into your touch, his eyes closing briefly before he pressed a kiss to your palm. “if i’m clumsy or unsure,” he continued, his voice soft, “just tell me. guide me. all i want is to make you feel cherished, loved... whole.”
your heart swelled at his words, and you nodded, sitting up a bit to press your lips to his. “you’re doing everything right,” you assured him, your voice trembling with both nervousness and excitement.
felix’s lips curved into a soft smile against yours before he deepened the kiss, his touch growing more confident as his hands slid back to your thighs. his movements were reverent, as though worshiping every curve of your body. slowly, he shifted above you, breaking the kiss for a moment to meet your eyes, his gaze filled with both tenderness and longing.
one hand slipped down between your legs, his fingers brushing over your mound through the thin fabric of your panties. his golden eyes flickered down to watch his hand, but they quickly returned to your face, searching for your reaction. he pressed down with a little more pressure, the motion drawing a soft gasp from your lips. the sound sent a thrill through him, and a subtle smirk tugged at the corners of his mouth.
felix’s movements became more deliberate, his fingers creating a gentle rhythm as they teased you through the fabric. your hips instinctively rose to meet his touch, grinding against his hand as he followed your lead. the warmth of his palm, the delicate friction, sent sparks of pleasure racing through you.
“can i feel you... underneath?” he asked softly, his voice tinged with a mix of nervousness and desire. a faint blush dusted his cheeks, a charming reminder of his inexperience.
you reached up, threading your fingers through his tousled hair, offering him a reassuring smile. “yes, that’s okay,” you whispered.
he nodded, his lips brushing yours in a tender kiss before his hand slipped beneath the fabric of your underwear. both of your breaths hitched simultaneously as his fingers met your slick heat. the intimacy of the moment made your cheeks flush with warmth, your body responding instinctively to his touch.
felix’s fingers explored you slowly, his movements careful but curious, as though memorizing every contour of your most sensitive place. when he brushed his middle finger against your clit, a moan escaped your lips, your hips jerking slightly in response. the sound sent a jolt through him, his arousal growing, the evidence of his desire pressing against the confines of his pants.
he began to circle your clit, experimenting with pressure and rhythm, his focus entirely on your reactions. every gasp, moan, and shudder guided him, and the connection between you deepened with each passing moment. your breaths became ragged, your body arching into his touch as he expertly worked you closer to the edge.
“felix, i’m gonna... oh my g-god!” you stammered, your voice breaking as waves of pleasure built within you.
he leaned down, pressing kisses to your jaw and neck, his voice low and soothing. “it’s okay, love. let go for me,” he murmured, his words like a lifeline pulling you into bliss.
your orgasm hit with devastating intensity, your body trembling as waves of ecstasy washed over you. your legs shook uncontrollably, your nails digging into his forearm as you cried out, your voice cracking with the force of your release. felix watched you with awe, his heart swelling with pride as he took in the sight of you—your back arching off the bed, your mouth falling open in a silent scream, your entire form glowing with pleasure.
“you’re so beautiful,” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion, his chest tightening at the sight of you undone beneath him. the sheer intensity of your release and the knowledge that he had brought you to this point sent a surge of arousal through him, his own need nearly overwhelming.
as you descended from the peak of your bliss, your chest heaving with each breath, felix leaned in to press a delicate kiss to your temple. his touch was gentle, almost reverent, as his fingers softly brushed a strand of hair from your flushed face. “are you okay, my love?” he asked, his voice low and tender, full of concern.
you nodded, your lips curling into a shy, dazed smile. “mhm… that was… really good,” you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper.
a soft chuckle escaped felix’s lips as he carefully withdrew his hand from your panties, his golden gaze dropping to the slick coating his fingers. without hesitation, he brought the digits to his mouth, his lips parting as he sucked them clean with an experimental slowness. his eyes fluttered shut briefly, and when they reopened, they glimmered with darkened desire.
“you taste divine, y/n,” he murmured, his voice rich with admiration and unrestrained hunger.
your cheeks flamed at the sight of him savoring you, but your attention shifted to the noticeable bulge straining against his pants. the sight sent a fresh wave of heat pooling in your stomach, and when your gaze returned to his face, you found him already watching you. his eyes were soft yet filled with a pleading sort of anticipation, his vulnerability laid bare.
“can i…?” you asked cautiously, your hand lightly pressing against the outline of his arousal.
felix’s breath hitched at your touch, his expression briefly contorting, not in discomfort but in a momentary overwhelm at the unfamiliar sensation. “y-yes,” he stammered, his voice shaky. “but… be gentle, please?”
“of course,” you assured him, offering a comforting smile as you carefully guided him to lie back. “just relax. don’t worry about the sheets.”
he followed your guidance, grunting softly as he adjusted his position. though the movement aggravated his healing wounds, felix bit back any complaints, his focus entirely on you. how could he not, when you knelt before him, bare and beautiful, your hands already working to free him from his remaining clothes?
as you tugged his pants down, his erection sprang free, slapping against his toned stomach. you couldn’t help but admire him—his length was flushed a deep pink, the prominent head peeking shyly beneath the extra skin. he was perfect, and undeniably human in this moment.
you leaned down, pressing soft, deliberate kisses along the base of his shaft, your lips trailing up the warm skin. felix’s breathing grew uneven, his golden eyes flickering down to watch you, though he struggled to hold your gaze. his cheeks were painted with a faint blush, his flustered expression only adding to his allure.
“you’re so beautiful,” you whispered against his skin, your voice filled with awe.
felix’s lips parted as if to respond, but the words seemed to catch in his throat, replaced by a soft groan as you kissed the underside of his length. your touch was gentle, tender, as though you understood how new and overwhelming this was for him.
“does this feel okay?” you asked softly, your eyes seeking his for reassurance.
felix nodded quickly, his voice catching as he replied, “yes… it feels incredible.”
encouraged by his soft groans and whispered praises, you continued your delicate exploration, your lips and hands moving with care and devotion. felix’s chest rose and fell in a rhythm that matched the tremors of his breath, his hands clutching the sheets tightly as if anchoring himself to reality.
when your lips wrapped around his length, his entire body jerked slightly in response, a low groan escaping his parted lips. the sound was raw, unrestrained, and it sent a surge of confidence through you. you moved slowly, your mouth warm and wet as you took him deeper, your tongue teasing the sensitive head with deliberate flicks and swirls. with each motion, you made sure to pull the skin back gently, exposing the most sensitive part of him to your ministrations.
“god, y/n… that’s—” his voice cracked, his words dissolving into a panting moan. his abs flexed involuntarily under your touch, and his head fell back onto the pillow, golden hair splayed like a halo. his hands left the sheets to tangle in your hair, his fingers trembling as they brushed against your scalp, though he didn’t pull or guide—he simply held on as if the pleasure was too much to bear alone.
your pace remained steady, your tongue working magic against him as you hollowed your cheeks to increase the intensity. felix’s reactions were mesmerizing—his breath hitched, his thighs quivered, and his lips parted to let out soft, helpless moans. you could feel his arousal building, his body tightening under your touch.
“a-ah… wait!” he suddenly cried out, his voice desperate as his hips tensed.
alarmed, you pulled off immediately, his length slipping from your lips with a wet pop. “felix? did i hurt you?” you asked, your voice laced with concern, your eyes searching his flushed face for any sign of discomfort.
he shook his head quickly, his chest rising and falling with rapid breaths. “n-no, love,” he managed, his voice shaky but reassuring. “you didn’t hurt me. i just… i was getting close, and i… i didn’t want it to end so soon.” his golden eyes, filled with vulnerability and desire, met yours, and he offered a soft, apologetic smile. “i want to feel more with you. all of you.”
his words sent a new wave of warmth through your body, and you leaned up to press a gentle kiss to his lips. “it’s okay, felix,” you murmured against his mouth, your tone soothing. “we’ll go at your pace. i just want to make you feel good.”
felix’s breath hitched as he let out a shaky laugh, his hands cradling your face with a tenderness that seemed almost at odds with the raw desire in his eyes. his golden gaze searched yours as though looking for permission to continue. “you already make me feel incredible,” he murmured, his voice thick with emotion. “but… please, i need to feel you completely. let me… let me be inside you.”
the desperation in his plea made your heart skip a beat, his need evident in the way his length twitched against your skin. “are you sure?” you asked softly, your voice laced with caution and care.
“i’ve never been more sure of anything,” felix replied fervently, his hands trembling slightly as they traced down your sides. before you could say another word, he gently guided you onto your back, his movements deliberate but brimming with urgency.
he tugged at the fabric of your panties, slipping them down and casting them aside, his eyes never leaving yours. the sight of you bare beneath him seemed to stoke his desire even further, his lips crashing into yours with newfound hunger. his knees parted your thighs a little more, positioning himself between them as he kissed you deeply, his tongue exploring yours with a fervor that left you breathless.
your legs instinctively wrapped around his waist, pulling him closer. the anticipation was electric, your body taut with expectation. felix pulled back just enough to look into your eyes, his hand guiding his aching length to your entrance. “if you need me to stop, just say the word, okay?” he whispered, his tone full of care despite the tension in his voice.
you nodded, biting your lip as your head sank into the pillow, bracing yourself for the moment you had both been yearning for. slowly, felix began to push inside you, his hips trembling as he sank into your warmth. the sensation overwhelmed him instantly—your tight heat surrounding him in a way that made his breath falter and a shudder rack his body.
a gasp escaped your lips as he slid all the way in with one smooth motion, the stretch both surprising and exhilarating. felix braced himself on his forearms, his face hovering just above yours. his eyes fluttered shut, and a whimper escaped his lips as he struggled to stay composed. “god… so tight…,” he muttered, his voice strained as he adjusted to the sensation.
for a moment, he stilled, giving you both a chance to adjust. his gaze returned to yours, full of concern and adoration. “are you okay?” he asked, his voice a whisper.
“y-yeah,” you managed, your voice breathy. “you can move.”
felix exhaled a deep breath and began to roll his hips, starting with a moderate pace. his movements were tentative at first, his eyes fixed on your expression to ensure you were comfortable. but as your gasps turned to soft moans, his confidence grew.
the friction was maddening, his steady rhythm sending waves of pleasure through both your bodies. each thrust drew a mix of grunts and whimpers from felix, his forehead resting against yours as he poured his entire being into every movement. “you feel… so good,” he groaned, his voice shaky with restraint.
your hands found purchase on his back, being cautious of his wounds. your fingers dug into the taut muscles as his pace began to quicken. the pressure was building, both of you lost in the connection that felt as much emotional as it was physical. “felix…” you moaned his name, your legs tightening around his waist as his hips snapped against yours with increasing fervor.
his breathing became erratic, his pace growing desperate as he chased his release. “y/n… i can’t…” he gasped, his body trembling with the effort to hold back.
“it’s okay,” you whispered, your voice tender and encouraging. “let go, felix.”
with a strangled cry, felix buried himself as deeply as he could, his entire body shuddering as his climax overtook him. his hips stilled, pressing tightly against yours as warmth filled you, his groans muffled against your neck as he clung to you like you were his lifeline.
for a long moment, the only sounds in the room were your mingled breaths, the quiet intimacy of the moment enveloping you both. felix finally lifted his head, his flushed face framed by his damp hair, and his eyes met yours with a look of pure devotion. “i love you,” he whispered, the words filled with awe.
your heart swelled, and you reached up to cradle his face. “i love you too, felix.”
as the two of you lay entwined in the quiet aftermath, the world seemed to fall away, leaving only the warmth of his body against yours and the steady rhythm of his breathing. felix’s fingers lazily traced patterns on your skin, his touch grounding and tender. there was a newfound softness in his gaze as he looked at you, a vulnerability that mirrored your own. whatever boundaries had once kept him from you—divine laws, celestial duties, or his own insecurities—had crumbled completely, leaving behind a love that was raw, human, and boundless. in that moment, as you rested your head against his chest, lulled by the sound of his heartbeat, you both understood that this was where you belonged: together, in a love that defied heaven and earth.
sobbed cried weeped and wailed cause this broke me and then rebuilt me.
I RELATE TO THE READER SO MUCH AT ONE POINT IN THIS STORY IT WAS SO UNREAL.
tears were shed.
