#bnd imagines

[212art]

What We Never Were

Pairing: Sungho × fem!reader

Warnings: Mutual pining, unresolved feelings, reunion, emotional tension, wedding setting, "right person, wrong time" vibes, bittersweet ending.

Summary: Years after drifting apart, a wedding brings you face to face with someone who was never quite a friend, never quite a lover, and impossible to forget

Weddings had always felt a little strange to you.

There was something about them that made you nostalgic, even when the story wasn't yours.

So when you received an invitation from a mutual friend, you almost didn't go.

In the end, you convinced yourself it would only be a few hours.

Nothing more.

And for the first half hour, it seemed like you had been right.

You greeted a few people.

Congratulated the newlyweds.

Took your seat at your table.

Everything was fine.

Until you looked up.

And saw him.

Sungho.

He was standing on the other side of the reception hall, talking to someone.

For a moment, your heart seemed to stop.

Not because you hadn't moved on.

Not because you spent your days thinking about him.

It was simply that years had passed.

Real years.

Long enough for a lot of things to change.

But not long enough to forget.

Sungho saw you too.

Your eyes met for only a second before both of you looked away.

Like two completely mature adults.

Which, of course, ended up meaning that you spent a good part of the evening avoiding each other.

Whenever he appeared near where you were standing, you somehow found something else to do.

And every time you moved around the venue, he always seemed occupied somewhere else.

It was ridiculous.

And both of you knew it.

That was probably why it wasn't surprising when you eventually found yourself alone on the terrace a few hours later.

You needed some air.

A break from the music and conversations.

You rested your arms on the railing and looked out at the city lights.

Then you heard footsteps approaching.

You didn't need to turn around.

"Hey."

Sungho's voice sounded exactly the way you remembered it.

"Hey."

Neither of you said anything for a few seconds.

Not because there was tension.

It was simply strange to speak again after so much time.

Sungho stopped beside you.

Without standing too close.

"It's been a while."

A small laugh escaped you.

"I think that's an understatement."

The corner of his mouth lifted slightly.

"Yeah."

The silence returned, though it didn't feel uncomfortable this time.

Inside, the music continued.

Someone laughed.

Someone raised a toast.

The wedding carried on as if nothing had changed.

"How have you been?"

"Good."

Sungho glanced at you.

"Good for real?"

And there it was.

The same person who always noticed when something didn't quite add up.

"Good for real."

He nodded.

"I'm glad."

The answer was simple.

Sincere.

And somehow that made it hurt a little.

"It's weird seeing you again."

The words slipped out before you could stop them.

"I was thinking the same thing."

"I thought it would feel less awkward."

A quiet laugh left him.

"Me too."

Because the truth was that none of this felt easy.

Not after everything you had shared.

Not after all those years of being such a big part of each other's lives without ever taking the next step.

You weren't a couple.

But you had never really been just friends either.

And when things became complicated, neither of you did anything about it.

Then came other responsibilities.

Other places, other people.

And little by little, you stopped talking.

As if life had made a decision the two of you never could.

"You know what's the worst part?"

you asked.

Sungho turned toward you.

"What?"

You smiled.

"I still remember how you take your coffee."

His expression changed immediately.

"I still remember that you hate olives."

You looked at him.

And both of you ended up laughing.

Because of course you remembered.

And of course he did too.

It was ridiculous.

After all those years, you still knew too much about each other.

The laughter faded naturally.

"I don't know how to talk to you anymore."

The confession escaped before you could stop it.

Sungho lowered his gaze for a moment.

"Neither do I."

This time, neither of you laughed.

"Because you're not a stranger."

His voice was calm.

"And you're not someone I can pretend I never knew."

Something tightened in your chest.

Because you understood exactly what he meant.

There wasn't an easy word for whatever the two of you had been.

And maybe that had always been the problem.

You looked back toward the city lights.

"Do you ever regret it?"

The question came out so quickly that you barely had time to think about it.

Sungho didn't answer right away.

Long enough for you to understand the answer before he said it.

"Every day."

You didn't look away.

Neither did he.

And for the first time in a long time, you stopped wondering whether you had been the only one thinking about what could have happened.

Inside the reception hall, applause broke out.

The newlyweds had just stepped onto the dance floor.

The lights reflected against the glass while everyone watched them.

The celebration continued.

Life continued.

Just as it always had.

Sungho glanced inside for a moment before looking back at you.

And this time, neither of you tried to escape the conversation.

Because there was no point pretending that none of it had ever existed.

You shared too many memories to become strangers.

Too many feelings to say you had only been friends.

And maybe too many complications to have become something more.

But as you stood there, looking at each other for the first time in years without looking away, it didn't feel like your story was completely over either.

[aliensoulp1h]

Shadows of Coffee and Crimson: Woonhak x Reader

The rain-slicked streets of Seoul gleamed under the neon glow of late-night signs as Kim Woonhak stepped out of his blacked-out SUV. At 32, he was a ghost in the underworld—a man whose name alone could empty rooms and fill bank accounts. Head of the Shadow Lotus syndicate, he dealt in protection rackets, underground casinos, and the kind of quiet power that kept rival families in check. His tailored coat hid the holster at his side, and his sharp jawline and piercing eyes made him look more like a model than a killer. But tonight, the weight of it all pressed heavier than usual.

His wife, Ji-eun, waited in their penthouse. Their marriage had been one of convenience years ago—alliances between families. She was beautiful, sharp-tongued, and ambitious, but the spark had died long before. Nights of arguments over loyalty, her growing suspicions about his “business trips,” and the cold silences had left him exhausted. He didn’t love her anymore. He barely tolerated her. Tonight, after another fight where she’d accused him of everything short of treason, he’d left without a word. He just needed coffee. Normalcy. Something untouched by blood and shadows.

The local Starbucks on the corner of a quiet residential block was his unlikely sanctuary. It stayed open late for shift workers and insomniacs. The bell chimed softly as he pushed open the door, shaking rain from his dark hair.

Behind the counter stood you.

You were wiping down the espresso machine with focused care, your apron tied neatly over a simple white blouse and black skirt. Your hair was pulled back in a soft ponytail with a few strands escaping to frame your face. You looked up with a gentle smile that reached your eyes—warm, unassuming, like sunlight breaking through clouds. “Good evening! What can I get started for you?”

Woonhak froze for a second. He’d seen you here before, on quick stops, but never really looked. You were young, radiating a purity that felt alien in his world. No heavy makeup, no calculated flirtation. Just genuine kindness.

“Large Americano. Black,” he said, voice low and steady.

You nodded, already moving with quiet efficiency. “Coming right up! Rough night? You look like you could use something warm.”

He leaned against the counter, watching you. Most people in his life feared him or wanted something. You chatted lightly about the weather, how the rain made the streets sparkle like stars had fallen. No agenda. When you handed him the cup, your fingers brushed. You blushed faintly and pulled back quickly, as if even that small touch was new territory.

“Thank you,” he murmured, slipping a generous tip into the jar.

Over the next few weeks, Woonhak became a regular. He’d come in after midnight runs, sometimes bruised under his shirt from “negotiations,” always ordering the same thing. You remembered his order by the third visit. You’d started adding a little smiley face on the sleeve with a marker, or a doodle of a raindrop. Innocent gestures that chipped away at his armor.

One night, the shop was empty except for the two of you. “You always come in so late,” you said softly while steaming milk. “Do you work nights? Or… trouble sleeping?”

He chuckled darkly. “Both. Life doesn’t slow down for guys like me.”

You tilted your head, eyes wide and curious. “Guys like you? You seem… important. But kind, too. Not many people tip like you do.”

Woonhak studied you. You had no idea. No clue that the man in front of you had ordered hits, laundered millions, and buried secrets deeper than the Han River. Your innocence was magnetic. You’d mentioned once, shyly, that you’d moved to the city for a quiet life after growing up in a small town. Books were your escape—romance novels with happy endings, nothing dark. You’d never traveled far, never dated seriously. “I’ve never even… you know,” you’d laughed embarrassedly during one slow conversation, cheeks flaming. “Kissed anyone. It just never felt right. I want it to mean something.”

That confession hit him like a bullet. In his world of jaded lovers and transactional nights, you were untouched purity. He wanted to protect it. He wanted to ruin it. The conflict tore at him.

Meanwhile, at home, Ji-eun’s suspicions boiled over. “You’re distant, Woonhak. Who is she?” she’d screamed one evening, throwing a vase that shattered against the wall. He didn’t deny it. He packed a bag and left for one of his safe houses. The marriage was over in all but paper. Divorce in his circles was messy—potential weakness for enemies—but he didn’t care. The syndicate came first, but for the first time, something personal pulled stronger.

Your meetings deepened. One stormy night, your shift ended late. The power flickered, and the shop went dim. You jumped at the thunder, nearly dropping a tray. Woonhak, waiting for his order, steadied your arm. “Easy. I’ve got you.”

You looked up at him, heart racing visibly in your throat. “You’re always here when things feel scary. Like a guardian or something.”

He drove you home that night in his SUV. The conversation flowed—your dreams of opening a small bookstore one day, his vague stories of “import business” that skirted the truth. At your modest apartment door, you hesitated. “Thank you, Woonhak. I feel safe with you. That’s rare for me.”

He wanted to kiss you then. To pull you close and show you the fire he’d kept banked. But he held back. You deserved better than a rushed moment from a man with blood on his hands.

Tensions escalated in his world. A rival gang, the Crimson Vipers, pushed into his territory. Retaliation was swift and violent. Woonhak spent nights coordinating from shadows, but he always returned to the Starbucks like a lifeline. You noticed the new cut on his cheek one evening. “Oh no! What happened?”

“Fell,” he lied smoothly. You fussed over him with antiseptic from the back room, your touch feather-light and trembling. Standing so close, your breath warm against his skin, he felt the pull. “You’re too good for this city,” he whispered.

You blushed deeply. “I’m just… normal. Boring, even. I haven’t done much of anything exciting.”

“That’s not boring. That’s precious.”

Your first real date happened outside the cafe. He took you to a quiet hanok village on the outskirts—traditional houses, lantern-lit paths, far from his violent reality. You wore a simple sundress, eyes sparkling at every new sight. You shared street food, laughed over silly stories. When he finally cupped your face under a blooming cherry tree and kissed you softly, you melted into it. Tentative, sweet, your hands clutching his shirt like he was your anchor. It was your first kiss, and it ignited something feral in him.

“I don’t know what I’m doing,” you whispered afterward, forehead against his chest.

“I’ll teach you,” he replied, voice husky. “Slowly.”

But shadows followed. Ji-eun discovered the affair through a careless associate. Enraged, she leaked information to the Vipers, hoping to eliminate her rival. One night, as Woonhak walked you home after closing, gunshots echoed. He shoved you behind a car, returning fire with deadly precision. You screamed, covering your ears, tears streaming. You saw him—really saw him—for the first time: the mafia underboss, efficient and lethal.

Afterward, in the safe house, you curled on the couch shaking. “You’re… you’re dangerous. Like in those books, but real.”

He knelt before you, hands gentle despite the fresh bruises. “I am. But I’d burn the world before letting it touch you. I left my wife for this—for us. She’s nothing compared to the light you bring.”

You were terrified, but the pull was stronger. Over the following months, your story unfolded in stolen moments and hidden intensity. He introduced you to his world carefully—private dinners in fortified restaurants, drives in the countryside where he could drop the mask. Your innocence fascinated him; you asked innocent questions about his scars, traced them with curious fingers. Your physical relationship bloomed slowly at first, then passionately.

Nights in silk sheets where he worshipped every inch of your untouched skin. Teaching you the pleasure of a kiss that deepened into more—his mouth on your neck, hands guiding your trembling ones. “Breathe, sweetheart,” he’d murmur as he took you for the first time, slow and reverent, your gasps filling the room. You were eager to learn, blushing through every new discovery, your normalcy grounding his chaos. He showed you ecstasy in waves, contrasting the violence outside your bubble.

Conflict peaked when the Vipers struck hard. A warehouse ambush left Woonhak wounded. You, no longer the sheltered barista, snuck out to find him using clues he’d once shared. You tended his injuries in a dingy motel, your hands steady despite fear. “I love you,” you confessed. “Mafia or not. Innocent or not. We’re in this.”

He recovered and ended the war decisively. Ji-eun was dealt with quietly—exiled with enough money to disappear, no longer a threat. Woonhak began delegating more, carving out a life where you could have your bookstore dream. You stayed at the Starbucks part-time, smiling at customers, but now with a quiet strength and a man who watched over you from the shadows.

Years later, in a quiet home overlooking the city, Woonhak watched you read to your young daughter. The innocent girl who’d captured a mafia heart had become his queen—still sweet, still carrying that normal light, but unbreakable beside him. The rain outside reminded him of your first meetings. He’d traded a hollow empire for this. And he’d do it again a thousand times.

The End… or perhaps just their beginning.

(Tell me if there’s anything errors I kept typing fast)

[shaxyzstuff]

Is he VIRAL? - Boys next door's tracklist | 보이넥스도어 H.DM (TS)

— Boys next door's tracklist (series)

Track 4: VIRAL — Childhood friend!Taesan x reader

In Summary Boys tease because they like you’ - You scoffed. - That's why they are just 'boys', immature and annoying. Bullies are just mean people. No exceptions. - Especially the immature boy named Taesan, who never gets tired of teasing you. Even if he ends up crawling and hugging his knees in front of your house, he will-- Wait, what? Is he... crying??

Yearning!Taesan, Immature!Taesan, (cho-ding dongmin) + WC. 3.4K

If someone hired you to run a poll on "The Most Annoying Creature in the World," you would quickly jot down the name 'Han Taesan' from rank one to ten without a single doubt.

Adults or those innocent first-love theorists love to say, ‘If a boy teases you, it means he likes you’ — Hah, you let out a huge scoff in your mind at the cringe of that statement. Since knowing that guy from childhood through high school, you haven't seen him grow up with his age. He still acts like an annoying elementary school kid.

And his target every single time is 'you'.

You moved out of your house right after high school graduation to attend a university in another city for the past five years. You went back home occasionally during holidays, but not as often as your family visited your dorm in that city.

But now you've graduated. You looked up at the brown fence adorned with potted plants just the way your mom liked, a sight you hadn't seen in over four or five years. Your favorite medium-sized suitcase was carried through the door into a house filled with nostalgia and longing. The familiar scent of home eased the tension in your shoulders.

The house looks exactly the same.

You walked past the furniture and numerous cardboard boxes piled up in front of the house, waiting to be moved by the moving truck you had just called, and headed inside.

“Hey! You're back? Do you need some help?”

A kind voice from next door made you turn around. It was 'Riwoo', your neighbor and your mom's friend's son, whom your mom always compared you to because he was the perfect, sweet older brother.

You were about to decline, but Riwoo had already walked over, grabbed the suitcase you thought you could easily carry yourself, and breezed right into your house. So, your refusal turned into a thank you instead.

There was less furniture inside than you remembered, but some corners were still covered in a thick layer of dust waiting to be cleaned. Well... you were a fresh university graduate. Escaping back to hole up, organize things, and dust off your house in a familiar neighborhood was the best kind of rest before you started thinking about job hunting.

“I'll put the bag right here. It's pretty dusty. Want me to help you sweep and dust somewhere first?” Riwoo turned to ask with a warm smile.

“It's okay, Riwoo oppa. You've already helped enough.”

But your polite refusal seemed to fall on deaf ears. Riwoo started making himself at home (obviously, your mom probably welcomed him so warmly while you were gone that he was practically another son).

The casual conversation flowed naturally, comfortably catching up on the past while waiting for the others to return from grocery shopping, as Riwoo had mentioned.

Until it reached an irritating sentence.

“By the way, have you listened to the song that guy produced? It's really popular right now.”

You turned to look at Riwoo in confusion. Whose song?

“Taesan. He works as a producer now and just released a new track – wait, you didn't know?”

How would I know? I was practically *fxckin* dying from my senior project.

You just thought it in your head. Riwoo was too nice to speak to harshly.

“Let me play it for you—”

“No need. I want to concentrate.”

Riwoo paused before laughing again. Too bad, Taesan. Your nicotine isn't going to be that easy to get...

It seemed the adults' grocery run was taking longer than expected. Time passed until you and Riwoo finished packing up the stuff. You sat down on the empty sofa and turned on some random show to kill time.

The sound of the door opening made both of you turn, expecting it to be your mom or someone else. Not him.

Han Taesan.

He looked taller than five years ago, with hair long enough to cover his eyes.

Ripped trendy jeans and an oversized MCR band tee paired perfectly with those silver hoop earrings.

Hmm, it felt a bit unfamiliar. Maybe because your last memory of him was a high school kid in a strict uniform, complete with that signature teasing smirk whenever he successfully provoked you into cursing at him.

“Long time no see. Did you shrink? You're shorter than I remember.”

Wow, First words out of his mouth and he's already talking trash.

His dark eyes scanned you from head to toe before he let out a scoff in his throat.

“...” You took a deep breath, looking past Riwoo's shoulder to glare at the brat from House 605, who consistently maintained his concept of 'The Most Annoying Creature in the World'.

“I'm completely average height. You're the one whose brain never seems to grow along with your height,” you fired back instantly, rolling your eyes at the tall figure still standing at the door with a punchable face.

Taesan didn't flinch at your insult at all. The guy just chuckled in his throat before walking into the house with his hands in his pockets, acting entirely at home. He swept his gaze over the cardboard boxes piled on the floor before stopping in front of one marked 'Books' with a magic marker. It was so heavy that you and Riwoo had left it there, planning to slowly unpack it later.

“And what's this? Moving back to settle down permanently? Why'd you bring so much stuff, you fresh grad?” Taesan raised an eyebrow, lightly tapping the book box with the tip of his sneaker.

“That's stuff for moving out! And what's wrong with being a fresh grad, huh?!” you snapped, starting to feel a sudden headache coming on. You hadn't even been home for an hour. This guy was a premium life-energy vampire.

Riwoo, sitting next to you, let out a soft laugh at seeing the familiar psychological warfare start up again. “Come on now, you two just met. Taesan, stop teasing Y/N. Weren't you pacing around yesterday complaining that—”

“Hyung!” Taesan immediately interrupted, his voice cracking. The ear with the silver hoop earring started to turn a faint red, which you assumed was just because of the hot weather outside. “Who was complaining? Nobody! I just came over to see if Auntie was back yet. I'm starving to death here!”

You narrowed your eyes at his strangely flustered behavior, but you were too lazy to care. The tall figure walked closer before bending down to lift that incredibly heavy box of books as easily as if it were a box of soft clothes.

The muscles and veins on his arm under the oversized shirt bulged slightly from the effort, making you accidentally steal a glance before quickly jerking your eyes back to stare rapidly between the TV screen and the ceiling.

“It's so in the way. Where do you want me to put this?” he mumbled, but didn't put it down.

“Just pile it up in the back of the house for now,” you answered curtly.

“You're really good at bossing people around, considering your size,” Taesan muttered, but he obediently turned around and carried the box upstairs anyway.

You watched his broad back in that baggy MCR tee with an indescribable feeling... Okay, you could admit that he looked more grown-up (just physically), looking like a full-fledged man. Plus, he was frustratingly much stronger now, completely different from the scrawny kid five years ago.

But still, Han Taesan was still Han Taesan — a foul-mouthed creature and the most annoying person in the world to you anyway.

Dinner was a lavish spread thanks to your parents, Riwoo's mom, and Taesan's mom, who were all part of the same neighborly friend group. The adults had bustled around the kitchen with the groceries they just bought, and Riwoo had gone in to help, leaving you sitting dryly at the dining table... looking at the sealed boxes with a slight pang in your heart.

Five years away at college, and just when you came back, you had to see the house being emptied out like this.

“My mom said we're celebrating you coming home and also a farewell party - moving out?” Taesan asked flatly while leaning against the kitchen doorframe, hands still in his pockets.

“Yeah. The moving truck is coming early tomorrow morning, so I rushed back to help move the stuff.” You answered truthfully, keeping your head down to rummage through a box.

Taesan, who rarely kept his mouth shut, went silent. Those dark eyes that usually looked at you with playful annoyance wavered for a moment.

"...Moving where?" His voice dropped a bit lower than usual.

"Busan, probably. Somewhere in the suburbs. I heard the weather is nice," you replied offhandedly, without clarifying the subject of the sentence to specify 'who' was going.

"..."

But all you got in return was silence. Taesan just stood there staring at you blankly. His jaw clenched tight, and his eyes looked... empty? Or shocked? You couldn't read him either, before he abruptly turned on his heel and stormed out of your house without saying another word.

"What the hell is wrong with him? Is he so hungry he's gone crazy or what?" you muttered to yourself, staring after his broad back in confusion.

Before you could seek an answer for your curiosity, the mothers walked out of the kitchen carrying pots of soup and dishes of food.

“Oh, where did Dongmin go?” Taesan's mom asked when she noticed her son was missing from the gathering.

“He just walked out, Auntie. He suddenly gave me a stiff look and just walked away,” you immediately snitched.

“Oh my, what rude manners this kid has,” his mom sighed. “Whatever. He probably went back to work. Before we came over, I saw him looking stressed, wearing his headphones, and glued to his computer since morning.”

“Just let him be. A famous producer is bound to be busy,” your mom added with a smile while setting the table, before turning to you. “By the way, Y/N, have you listened to Taesan's new song yet? I heard it's really popular right now.”

You shook your head immediately. “Not yet, Mom. During my final project grind, I barely touched social media.”

Well, congratulations on the success... even if you still act like an immature brat.

You silently added the sentence in your mind.

“That's a shame...”

Riwoo's soft voice sounded along with a faint smile as he placed a plate of rice in front of you. “That song... Taesan really poured his heart into it. He gave it his all.”

You frowned at the boy-next-door's knowing smile in confusion... What was wrong with everyone today?

That night seemed to just pass by like that...

The weather was cool and comfortable, with rain drizzling outside. The familiar tranquility you hadn't felt in a long time kept you wide awake, even though it was past your usual bedtime.

You were scrolling through your phone in the dark of your bedroom, but suddenly the algorithm seemed to play some kind of joke.

A blue thumbnail with a song title below it, along with familiar names of the singer and producer, popped up on your screen. It made you click it without thinking.

Glancing at the view count, you could guess that this was the song mentioned at the dinner table.

You let the music flow through your earphones... After listening for a while, you understood why it was so famous. The guy was truly talented, passionate, and really produced great work.

But before the song could finish, the drizzling rain suddenly turned into a heavy downpour, the sound of raindrops hitting the window pane becoming loud and clear.

You paused, immediately taking off your earphones. Wait, what about the box of books me and Riwoo oppa left on the front porch? If the rain splashed in, all your high school textbooks would be completely soaked.

Panicking, you sprang out of bed, grabbed a cardigan to throw on, and practically ran downstairs. The darkness in the house didn't trip you up thanks to your familiarity with the place. Your small hand reached out to unlock and twist the front doorknob, pushing it open slightly to check the rain outside.

However... the sight before you wasn't just a wet cardboard box.

On the front steps, amidst the splashing rain that made the ground soaked, a tall figure in the same outfit from this evening was sitting hugging his knees, leaning against the wall. His broad shoulders were slumped, and his perfectly styled hair was now plastered flat against his usually arrogant face, which now looked utterly defeated.

Like a giant kitten abandoned by its owner in the middle of the rain.

"Han Taesan...?"

The owner of the name flinched violently before slowly looking up at you. The dim porch light revealed a face that usually held nothing but teasing annoyance... but now, those dark eyes were bloodshot red, and his pointy nose was flushed and bruised-looking, like someone who had just cried their eyes out.

Uh… let me rub my eyes and look again.

That Taesan was... crying????

“Um… do you want to come inside first?… Sitting in the rain like this probably isn't good.”

“You have to comfort me!” He glared at you, looking displeased — though he never seemed pleased with anything anyway.

“I don't even know what you're crying about, how am I supposed to comfort you? So, you have to tell me. And if you tell me while sitting in the rain like this, do you think I'll hear you clearly? How long do you think this story is going to take? By the time you're done, I'll probably have to visit you in the hospital with a fever.”

You ranted, but Taesan didn't seem to care, burying his face in his knees again.

You decided to step outside even without an umbrella to shield you from the rain. The teary-eyed cat in front of you glanced up, but showed no signs of getting up, just mumbling unintelligibly until you had to crouch down to listen closely.

“Why didn't you bring an umbrella? You're going to get sick.”

“What?”

“I asked—” His deep voice got swallowed down his throat when he looked up and realized you were much closer than he thought.

“Said what?”

“Move over.” Taesan used his hand to gently push your shoulder, but as you were about to lose your balance and fall, he reached out his other hand to grab your arm and steady you. “Be careful.”

“Then let's just go inside and talk properly. Why are you sitting in the rain?” You spoke while trying to use your strength to pull him up by the arm, but Taesan remained stubborn.

You started to frown, clicking your tongue in annoyance, ignoring Taesan's displeased expression.

“You don't have to care about me anymore. You're leaving anyway.”

...?

Huh?

“I'm just an immature kid who likes to tease, and no matter how I take care of you, or how nice I am to you, you still don't like me back.”

...???

“No matter how many songs I write for you, you never even listen to them.”

...?????

“Even though you ran away so far for five years, you were still the only thing in my head. I'm going crazy.” Taesan rambled on as if he was too tired to think anymore. “I just hoped the song I wrote would be talked about everywhere until it reached your ears, but it didn't turn out like that — I'm so frustrated I'm going crazy. I wanted you to cry and miss me, but I also didn't want you to cry or be in pain. I want you to be happy, but if you're happy without me, I'll probably just keep being sad like this...”

”Taesan…”

“I could sing until my voice goes hoarse just asking you to look back at me once, but it's useless now because you're already gone.”

You were starting to have trouble telling whether the liquid on the face in front of you was tears or raindrops, but your hands tried their best to wipe it away from Taesan's face.

Taesan tried to swat your hands away and pull back, rejecting the touch, his mouth still babbling things you couldn't decipher.

“Taesan, listen.”

“Forget it. Just forget it all. You're leaving tomorrow anyway.“

…?

”Leaving where? Listen to me, hey!“

”Busan!“

”I'm not going anywhere!“

…

It seemed raising your voice worked. Taesan froze completely, giving you a chance to continue.

”I'm not going anywhere. The ones moving out tomorrow are my parents — not me, you idiot!“

Silence enveloped the two of you, with only the sound of raindrops hitting the ground interrupting the space between you.

Taesan's sharp eyes widened. The tears that were just streaming down his cheeks seemed to stop abruptly. He blinked rapidly, looking back and forth between you and the front door. The tall figure who was just hugging his knees and crying his eyes out had turned into solid stone.

"Y... Your parents? Not you?"

"Yes! I told you I was staying to clear out the house. Who told you to jump to conclusions and cry your eyes out like a five-year-old kid?!"

Once the young producer's brain finished processing, his pale, cold face slowly flushed with color until his ears were bright red... and it spread all the way down his neck. Taesan immediately buried his face in his own arms, letting out a muffled curse over the sound of the rain.

"Dammit!!"

The utterly defeated and embarrassed state of the 'most annoying creature in the world' made you burst out laughing uncontrollably. All the anger and frustration you had vanished, leaving only pure fondness (and a bit of satisfaction) at seeing the giant cat in front of you so embarrassed he looked ready to dig a hole and hide.

You shook your head with a smile before reaching out to grab his arm again. "Get up right now, Han Taesan. Go inside and dry off. If you die of a fever on my front porch, I'm not taking responsibility for your song royalties."

This time, the tall figure obediently stood up at your pull, even though he was still hiding his face behind his sleeves in pure embarrassment.

Once inside, you threw a large towel over his head. Taesan took it and rubbed his hair roughly. His dark eyes peeked up at you standing there with your arms crossed. His soaking wet state was a far cry from the 'cool producer' image.

"So... you're really not going anywhere?" he asked again, his deep voice still a bit shaky.

"Yes, I already said so. How many times do you want me to repeat it?"

"And what I said just now..." Taesan mumbled, suddenly avoiding your gaze. His large hand ruffled the towel on his head awkwardly. "About... hoping the song would reach your ears..."

You pressed your lips together, holding back a smile until your cheeks hurt. "I'll try listening to it tomorrow. But if it's not as good as Riwoo oppa hyped it up to be, I'm going to roast you, just wait."

The downward curve of Taesan's lips slowly lifted bit by bit... until it turned into a wide, eye-crinkling smile. The exact same smile he used whenever he successfully pranked you. But this time, it looked so bright it was almost blinding.

"Get ready to be addicted to my song, dummy." He reached out a large hand, with the towel still draped over it, to ruffle your hair until it was a mess. His signature Han Taesan brand of annoyance was starting to possess him again. "Because from now on, I'm going to annoy the hell out of you until you can't run away anywhere ever again... Take responsibility for making me cry for nothing, will you?"

"Yah! Who made you cry? You made it all up in your own head, you idiot!" You lightly swatted his hand away, mumbling to yourself. "Immature kid..."

You turned your face away to hide the smile tugging at your lips, secretly clutching the left side of your chest where a certain organ was beating wildly out of rhythm.

...It seemed you had really caught this guy's virus after all.

A/N actually my fav song of album is dive…

Also... buy me a cheesecake here!

[ihanzzn]

MY GIRLFRIEND IS A WITCH!! ᯽ ˚ ͙ p. sh

✮ — cat hybrid sungho *sighs wistfully* i had a grat tim writing this i won’t lie, i tink reader is so cute

fluff ; cat-hybrid bf? sungho (undisclosed relationship), witch!reader, casual intimacy, a bunch of bs witchy terms (i tried with my minimal research..), reader is a little clumsy and a bit of a mess ┈ #requested!! wc : ~ 2.4k

your home decor is too boring. you’re tired of staring at the same bookshelves and tapestries that line the walls. all your windows have already been replaced with stained glass designs, a hobby you had picked up when you had this same predicament last year.

sure, the sheerness of your detailed curtains allow for warm shades of sunlight to spill onto your floors and almost every surface is overflowing with all the trinkets you’ve collected over the years. to describe your space as maximalist would be an understatement.

but you need more. something brighter, livelier.

you turn your head to the side and take in all that your room has to offer. posters and paintings on every wall, handcrafted rugs splayed across the floors, even various candles scattered throughout your home. what else is there to add…?

the answer to your question hits you in the face. literally.

“ouch!! what the hell was— sungho?!” your eyes are wide as the expression on your face radiates bewilderment.

you hear the kitty lose himself in apologies as he leans in to make sure there isn’t a bump left on your head. but you’re more interested in what he had accidentally brought to you. a book on.. gardening? you flip through the pages to see different flower types, plant breeds, and care instructions.

you sit up on your day bed in realization. that’s what you need, florals! a source of life in your living space to bring an extra touch of color. “oh, sungho!” you cradle his face in your palms, eyes sparkling with excitement. “you’re a genius!!”

soft tufts of his hair fluff up as his ears twitch in confusion, “i am?” he questions with a tilt of his head.

you can imagine it now, vines and stems adorned with bright wildflowers strung across the ceilings. the planters that surround the exterior of your cottage have remained relatively empty and unchanged since you moved in. you can only assume that’s what sungho’s original plan with the book was until he brought it to your attention.

you’re not sure if you’d call yourself the most trustworthy when it came to gardening. somehow, someway, plants would end up withering under your care. they’d end up growing out of their pots, needing more sunlight, and all of their water intakes were different. so you had decided to let nature take its course with the fungus and foliage sprouting in your backyard.

and these would be no ordinary flowers, no no! you need something… special. because after some thought, you realize you can’t kill flowers that you’ve created. they can’t die if your magic is what brought them into this world. so now, you’re on a mission. a mission to prove you’ll be the best magical gardener there is!

you practically float down the stairs to your work room, already envisioning the spell book you have in mind. a friend had gifted it to you while cleaning out her own collection and you didn’t have the heart to decline, so it’s been sitting untouched for a while.

the door to your library is still a little jammed, needing to use more force than necessary just to get a book. you should probably get that fixed.. “sungho!! can you write down in my journal that we—” you’re met with a face full of chest when you turn around.

“need to fix the door? i can get on that tomorrow.” he smiles, nodding before pressing a quick kiss to the crown of your head and easing the door open for you. you freeze for a second, a little dazed but now isn’t the time to get distracted, you have a job to do.

however, you’ve searched high and low for this spell book and it’s no where to be seen! and you’re a surprisingly organized person when it comes to your library so you know the exact shelf it should be on. but even after searching from the nature section all the way to books on pyrotechnics, you’ve just about torn apart your library.

a pout carves itself onto your face as you weigh your options. you cut yourself off before calling for sungho, thinking you should try to do this one thing yourself this time. you roll up your sleeves, tie up your hair, and venture to the deep storage in the back of the room. you open up the first box to your left, only to be met with.. a huge spider!?

the lid slams closed and you scurry back to the edge of the counter, your beloved cat appearing before you even get through the second syllable of his name. he allows you to tuck yourself behind him as he lets the arachnid crawl free outside of your window. a warm hand settles on the small of your back and leads you out of the storage room.

“you could’ve just asked for my help,” his hand slowly smooths over your hip to keep you close, as if to soften the way he scolds you for being careless.

you mumble something about not wanting to be a bother as your eyes catch on what’s sitting on your desk. a dusty and well loved copy of ‘from wisterias to wildflowers: a guide to floral witchery!’ there before your very eyes.

“how did- where was— you found it??” your legs move faster than your brain towards the book, fingers now flipping through the pages at lightning speed trying to find the right spell.

he hums in admiration for how you light up at what he’s brought back for you. “under your bedside table, where you normally keep your book recommendations.”

oops. you’d berate yourself for your ignorance if you weren’t so invested in finding just the right flower.

after some time of studying each page, one section catches your attention; flora enhancement. the passage claims that a pre-existing, healthy plant can be transformed into another species under the right conditions. perfect!

since your luck with shrubbery is less than ideal, you call for your cute lab assistant to find one for you, “yeppiii, could you find me something like this from outside?” you point to the examples of ‘preferred plants for first stage.’

he nods dutifully which allows for you to prepare your work space. the steps seem easy enough, only needing a few ingredients to get to the flower you want. it does, however, require an elixir you dread making. it’s time consuming and very precise, so you keep a spare batch of it on the top shelf as to avoid having to make more in the future.

so with a sigh, you reach up as far as you can to grab the glass bottle. the tips of your fingers graze the sides but you can’t get a good grip on it, how did you even get this up here? you huff out of frustration and jump up to scoot it forward, the way it teeters dangerously close to the edge goes unnoticed.

one more push should do it, you think, so you use your other hand as leverage against the counter and jump up again. your heart sinks when your fingers nudge it the wrong way and it wobbles once, twice, and—

“i thought i told you to ask me for help.” a larger hand shoots out in front of your face and lowers the bottle to the counter. his voice, while stern and a little sharp, is laced with concern that you know better than to argue against.

his other hand cradles a small pot filled with soil and several bunches of little flowers, you recognize them as forget-me-nots. with a quick and appreciative kiss to his cheek, you take the pot and line it up with all the other ingredients you need.

there’s a faint sense of doubt swirling in your chest, you’ve never been good with plants. the chances of messing up your home, while small, linger in the back of your mind.

but when you catch sungho in the corner of your eye, it all melts away.

you’re good at magic, it’s hardly new to you. you’ve been doing this for years with your good luck charm by your side. some flower isn’t gonna ruin your life!

you crack your knuckles, take a deep breath, and get to work.

. ⟡ ݁ ˖ 𓂃 𓈒 ✶

TEST #1: FORGET-ME-NOTS -> MORNING GLORIES

you scribble your first experiment into the top corner of your journal. this should be relatively easy, you think, neither of the flowers are necessarily intricate or over the top. it’s just like.. putting forget-me-nots onto a vine, not that big of a jump!

as morning glories are described as ‘funnel-shaped vining flowers,’ they require a different set of conditions to change into from forget-me-nots, which are ‘spring flowers’. the steps in the spell book instruct you to isolate the original plant as best you can and use a mix of two different potions to accelerate the growth process.

after measuring the liquids with an amount of precision unusual to even you, the bunch of flowers starts growing before your eyes. the leaves spread wider and petals gain more color. you’re about to turn to sungho and announce your success until you remember the last step; expose to sunlight for ~20 seconds immediately after mixture is introduced.

dang it.

the flowers begin to wilt as your self esteem deflates along with them. and sungho, who’s just witnessed the rise and fall of your expression as he walked back into the room, scoots the pot out of the way and brings a fresh one into frame.

“trial run,” he says as reassurance, arm slung around your shoulder. “that’s why you’re experimenting,” he squeezes your arm to comfort you and carefully kisses your temple.

and to your delight, test #1.5 goes smoothly and you jot down your findings in your notebook.

TEST #2: MORNING GLORIES -> STAR JASMINE

the enhancements start getting easier after the initial transformation of the first, thankfully.

star jasmines, considered a ‘flowering plant,’ are a little more delicate than morning glories. which makes the process both easier and harder to complete. less ingredients but more patience and precision.

first, you dig a couple cinnamon sticks into the soil for its scent and thinning their delicate petals. easy!

the second step, however, is far more tedious; sprinkling exactly 5 grains of sugar into its stigma. that’s what gives the jasmine its body from the morning glories, so a wrong measurement can change it completely.

your feline hones in on the slight tremble in your hand as you separate each minuscule cube. the warmth of his palm hovers over your wrist as you use the end of your tweezers to gently place the sweetener into the pollen tubes.

his nose twitches from the increase of pollen in the air and a tickle in his nose brings up a threat of a sneeze that could throw you off completely. he tries keeping it at bay as he holds his breath, not realizing his grip on your wrist is growing tighter. unable to fight it off, sungho hides his face in your neck, ears tucked back and eyes shut tight.

“sungho..?” your voice is small and he doesn’t like it, he doesn’t like the slight trace of doubt that follows your tone.

but you repeat his name, now louder and.. excited?

“sungho!! sungho— yeppi look!” he peels himself off of your neck and your eyes are sparkling with smile on your face so wide it’s almost blinding.

“it.. it worked!! look, they’re white now! and thinner- oh they’re so prettyyy,” you take a step back to take in your work, proud of yourself. “i- i did it!!” yeah. pretty was right.

sungho praises your success and plucks a few of the flowers off to put in your hair, claiming they remind him of you and your perfume. he was the one who was interested in gardening in the first place, so you let it slide with a blush on your cheeks.

TEST #3: STAR JASMINE -> CYPRESS VINES

with the last trial having boosted your confidence, you’re sure this next round will be the final one.

another ‘climbing vine’ flower variant, cypress vines take on a star shape similar to jasmines, only fuller in shape. that’ll make it easier for you to enhance them size-wise, color is a whole other story.

these steps are similar to the previous ones, this time using ground nutmeg around the roots for longer vines and vanilla bean paste on the petals to fill them in. it’s just the colors aren’t exactly what you had in mind. the white is cute, but too simple for what the rest of your home interior looks like.

the deep red you had envisioned is quite the jump from its original ivory white. the book mentioned something about color lightening, so deepening a color shouldn’t be much different.

“hmm.. oh i know what this needs!” you perk up as you lean over to quickly scribble something down in your notebook, free hand outstretched. “sungho dearest, could you grab me the—” a small vile of liquid sits in your palm before you can finish your sentence.

“mint oil, right?” it’s like he read your mind, and with the way his eyes are locked onto yours, that doesn’t seem so impossible. you really shouldn’t even be shocked, he’s been your other half for years now that sharing a brain wouldn’t be that crazy.

with each drop, the bright white of each petal gradually shifts into a blush pink, soon deepening into a rosy red and settling into a beautiful shade of maroon. the perfect color for your decor that just so happens to complement the lightness of your kitty’s hair.

you mark test #3 as a success and grin at the words written at the bottom of the page;

FLORA ENHANCEMENT COMPLETED! COMPLICATIONS : minimal… ABILITY TO REPLICATE : high possibility!!

. ⟡ ݁ ˖ 𓂃 𓈒 ✶

now, as you finish cleaning up (and let sungho put the heavier jars away for you), you envision all of the spots you’ll hang your vining flowers from. one spot in particular stays noticeably empty.

you pluck off a star shaped flower and call your kitty over. he cranes his head down as per your request, ready for instructions, when he feels your hand smooth over his hair and brush his ear.

“there, because it reminds me of you.” a pretty pink flower tucked behind his ear, practically matching the shade on his cheeks.

“now we match.”

like what you see? check my masterlist for more!! feel free to join my taglist if you’d like to be notified!! ↳ @xionvlog , @ivehan , @hraethy , @angelsemble , @starriniqhts

≡ p.s. i lowk lost the plot and wrote a lot more than i expected to bc this prompt rlly spoke to me :3 so is this considered a mini? prolly not. but idc

[woonhakfeet]

sample my heart ♥︎ | han taesan [보이넥스트도어]

pairing: /ᐠ. .ᐟ\ Ⳋ office!worker! taesan x street!vendor! reader ᢉ𐭩 .ᐟ

synopsis: taesan had been struck with a curse. a strange curse that wouldn't allow him from walking past the weird food stall on his way to work. it was most definitely a curse... a curse with the word "chestnut" written all over it!

genre: fluff, rom-com, non-idol au, slice-of-life, office au, comfort read <3

word count: 2.9k

>>> 🐾 let's start! ⁠/ᐠ. .ᐟ\ Ⳋ 🌰 ── ♥︎ ── 🌰 Ⳋ /ᐟ. .ᐟ\⁠

"You look like a guy with taste, try some of our roasted chestnut samples!" 

Taesan blinked at the pile of warmly toasted chestnuts shoved in front of his face, backing up a little at the lack of space.

"Erm..." 

Behind the wall of nuts, a kind face watched on in pure determination, unmoving.

He had no idea why he did what he did next, but he did it anyway. 

Wary fingers grazed the top of the chestnut pile. He grabbed one. Barely getting a proper hold on it.

The girl behind the stall jumped with joy, a wonderfully delicate smile to her lips.

"Great choice, Sir!" 

Her unexpected excitement earned him a flinch. 

He studied your face, a little perplexed as to how anyone could enjoy their job this much.

Especially when the job was advocating for roasted chestnuts in the middle of a blazing heatwave.

"This is our salted caramel and cinnamon-flavoured chestnut! Have a taste!"

You urged him with your hands, full attention zoned in on his every move, then you immediately double backed.

"Wait... you're not allergic to nuts, are you?"

This was probably the quietest he heard you speak, so far.

Blinking once, then twice, Taesan thought for a moment. 

"I...don't think so?—"

"Great!" You beamed all the more, a heavy sense of expectation washing over your glassy eyes.

You completely ignored the possibility that he could be allergic to nuts, and just might not know it.

If he had to be completely honest, Taesan felt peer pressured....to eat a chestnut. 

In the middle of Seoul's busiest street. 

In 35 degree weather.

He was starting to think you were unaware of the circumstances, or perhaps you were just immune to the heat and clinically insane.

Either way, there was no chance your business would sell, and because of that, he felt slightly bad. Just a bit. Enough for him to sigh reluctantly before popping the steaming chestnut in his mouth.

Oh...wow.

Your eyes grew triple their size, a cheekiness possessing your features as you smirked.

"It's good, right?"

You leaned over your stall, wanting to get a closer look at his face.

Surprisingly, it was rather pleasant. The flavour danced in his mouth like a romantic elopement. It was admittedly a little too good for such a horrid marketing strategy.

"It's not bad." He replied simply.

You grinned anyway.

"Wanna try our other flavours?" 

"Uh," he patted himself down looking for nothing in particular, anything to make himself appear busy. "I don't think I have the time right now. Maybe next time." 

An awkward wave later, and he was lost behind the curtains of the crowd. 

Yet, weirdly enough, he found himself standing near the very same stall the next day.

Sighing, he shook his head lightly, muttering to himself.

"Why am I even here?"

This wasn't planned.

Well... yeah, no. Totally not planned. This was the way to the office. It's not like his legs walked him all the way over there without so much as an explanation. 

He just wanted to see how badly your business was doing.

Yeah. That's what it was.

Brown orbs watched on as you busied yourself roasting chestnuts the size of golf balls, rolling them into flavoured coatings with practiced ease. 

Like the main character in a fairytale, you smiled throughout the whole thing. 

As if you were unaware of the absolute doom that would await your bank account if you kept at this weird sales mechanism. 

One step.

Then another.

Somehow, he found himself gravitating closer to your vibrant stall.

"Mr. Moody Customer!"

Taesan jumped.

"You're here! Again." Your smile reached your eyes, your arms leaning against the rail of your stall. 

Scratching the back of his neck, Taesan cleared his throat.

"I see you're here today too."

You lazily nodded. "Indeed, I am."

A long, passing moment crawled between you both as you continued to stare at him. 

"Well then!—"

You clapped your hands loudly, startling him once again. 

"Would you like to taste another flavour today?" 

He hadn't even answered when you turned around, already reaching for your pile of freshly roasted nuts. Grabbing a bunch at random, you plopped about three of them on a small paper plate.

"Today's flavour is..." you shook the chestnuts in front of him, urging for him to place his choice.

He looked at you like a lost child in a packed shopping mall. Unsure, and unpredictably confused. He wasn't exactly in the mood for chestnuts today, and he sure as hell wasn't the type to concede purely on the count of people-pleasing.

So why was it so hard for him to say no? 

"Actually, I don't think I want—"

His dark eyes met yours in the middle of him reciting his rejection. 

...

He ate the chestnut. 

He doesn't even know which one. Doesn't remember his hand even going for one.

All he knew is that one minute he was talking, the next, he was chewing on something tangy and...

"Amazing!" You cheered like he found the answer to world peace. "You picked the new flavour I've been working on! So, how is it?"

Gosh, it was so hot. The sun hitting down on his skin, the scorching tingle of the chestnut against his tongue, the tinge of acid making its way through his throat.

"Is this... salt?"

"Yup! Salted Lemon and Strawberry Cheesecake!" 

What happened to the 'strawberry cheesecake' part?

It was like 5 different flavours were fighting for a spot on the primal tastebud throne-room. It was so bad. But he couldn't possibly let you know that. Not when you were gazing at him with such hope and purity. The kind of eyes that peer at you with joyful glee and cotton candy-shaped expectations—

"It's bad."

Oh. 

Apparently he could tell the truth in dire situations. Well, what do you know.

The light on your face very slowly dimmed into an expressionless, faraway stare.

Taesan swallowed harshly. "I mean, it's not bad bad. It's more like a... 'what just happened' kinda bad."

"Uh-huh." You soullessly murmured, not following anything of what he was saying.

"So what I'm saying is, that depending on the way you look at it, it can be good too!" He highly doubted that, but he wasn't going to dig himself deeper.

"You just have to work on the execution. The rest is great."  His tone of voice was so unconvincing that he had to close his eyes for a moment, just to savour his awful attempt at lying. He was usually better at it than this.

You remained unresponsive. He watched you closely, sharp eyes tracking every nuance of your reaction. Sighing, Taesan shoved the other two flavoured chestnuts on the paper plate down his throat, feigning pleasure. 

"Mmm!" His eye twitched in retaliation, his body awakening survival mode despite himself.

Quickly assessing the amount of chestnuts you had made, Taesan piped up.

"I'll take ten of your salted lemon and strawberry cheesecake chestnuts, please."

At this, you finally found the strength to meet his mildly petrified orbs. "Really?!" Catching yourself off guard with the volume of your voice, your shoulders folded in on themselves, ashamed. You made eye contact, your brows rising  in surprise.  "Really?" You repeated, quieter this time. 

Taesan didn't have the strength nor the current mind-to-body articulation to form a coherent sentence due to the flavour landmine going off in his mouth, so he merely nodded.

You beamed.

"Okay!"

You quickly packed all your chestnuts into a brown paper bag and happily redirected it into his hands.

Taesan stared at the chestnuts. 

"Word of advice," he started, his eyes still emptily hooked on the warm bag resting against his chest. "Make it less 'salted lemon,' and more 'strawberry cheesecake.'" 

And with that, you watched him disappear into the morning crowd with an uncharacteristic rush to his steps. As naïve as can be, your lips pulled into a small smile. 

He must've really liked them.

🌰ᢉ𐭩 .ᐟ ──── at the office ──── 𐭩ᢉ🌰⁠

A firm plop brought the attention of a certain pretty-faced colleague to life.

"What's this?" Leehan, Taesan's accounting assistant asked in pure curiosity. His fingers went to prod at the brown paper bag in no time, round eyes blinking over its opening.

"It's for you." Taesan didn't bother to elaborate, simply taking his seat across from the other male's workspace. 

Leehan raised a brow. "Since when do you get me gifts?" 

"Since now." The taller male plopped into his chair, putting his glasses on and opening a document he'd been working on for the past few days.

A few quiet minutes went by. His fingers grazed against each key as his typing grew fiercer. The sound came to a sudden stop when his elbows met the table top. 

Looking over the divider, Taesan's thin spectacles found Leehan's big eyes.

"How about some coffee? Do you want some coffee? I'm going to get coffee." He got up in a flash, his mouth twisted with the lingering flavours of the cursed chestnut.

Once Taesan was out of sight, Leehan's hand dug into the bag. He grabbed a chestnut—stared at it a little, in sheer amazement of its size—then popped it in his mouth.

...

"Hey, Riwoo. Want some chestnuts?"

🐾⁠⸝⸝⸝ Ⳋ ─ ᢉ𐭩 .ᐟ 🌰 a few days later 🌰 .ᐟ 𐭩ᢉ ─⁠ Ⳋ ⸝⸝⸝⁠ ⁠ᢉ𐭩 🐾

Okay. This was getting ridiculous.

"Why hello there, Mr. Moody Customer!"

It wasn't even the morning anymore. 

Usually, you'd be out by the time his lunch break rolled over. Yet, somehow, here you were, despite him purposefully taking multiple different routes to work each morning, for the past few days.

You just had to catch him on his lunch break.

"I have a name, you know." Taesan replied with a small sigh, already expecting to be bombarded by random chestnut suggestions.

You gave a theatrical nod. "I believe everyone does, but you haven't told me yours yet. So I will stick with the one I gave you!" 

You smiled. That darn smile that made him do things that he'd never usually do. Guilt tripping must've been your specialty.

He opted to say nothing, just looking at you with the little energy he had left after dealing with an in-depth meeting with the financial directors a measly 30 minutes ago.

"You appear to be tired."

At your manner of speech, his eyes focused on you more. "Have you always spoken so formally?" 

"I only do so when my favourite customer is in a bad mood!"

He deadpanned. 

"I'm your only customer."

"Which makes you my favourite!" 

He watched the grin on your face bloom into a heartfelt chuckle. He had no clue why you were laughing—it wasn't even a joke—but for some strange reason, he found himself drawn to the airy sound of your happiness. How annoyingly persistent.

"How about I fix you up some nice, piping chestnuts? These ones are brown sugar and butter-honey." 

His eyes followed your movements.

"I don't think that's necessary—"

"—Nonsense! It's on the house."

That was even worse. With the way you were moving, you'd be in debt by dawn!

"I'll pay for them."

"No, no, no. It's my treat. See it as a token of my appreciation for you. A sample of my heart, if you will!"

"You'll go bankrupt."

"I beg your pardon?"

Silence.

"I said, thank you for the samples."

You blinked, slowly processing his words of gratitude. 

"Ah, of course! Whenever you're having a bad day, just come over. A few warm chestnuts always do the trick!"

Whoever told you that growing up,  likely lied to you. But Taesan knew better than to voice his opinions, so he kept his mouth shut and pulled a polite smile.

"Right." He said, his fingers brushing against yours as you exchanged the bag of nuts. His heart did a little thing. He wondered if it was from ingesting too many nuts in the short timespan of a week.

Anyway, how was he going to get through these, now? There were a good twenty, give or take, inside the paper bag. 

"Hope you feel better soon!" 

Looking you over one last time, he gave the smallest nod, before tentatively making his way to his favourite lunch spot.

At the small restaurant, Sungho waited for him patiently. His fingers scrolled through his phone with impressive speed as he busied himself in the recent news stories.

"I'm here." Came Taesan's voice, a little worn down from the day's activities. 

Sungho, a mate of his that happened to be working in the company across the street, looked up to find Taesan taking his seat. 

"Oh, hi." He returned his attention to the article on his phone. "Did you see what I sent you yesterday?" 

Taesan stilled in his seat. "You sent me something?"

"Yeah, you know. The thing." Sungho replied simply, having put his phone face-down on the table.

"The thing...what thing?"

"The thing!" Sungho insisted, utterly offended by his long-term friend.

The taller male sighed, shaking his head with little effort.

"Okay, you know what? I've had a long day—"

"It's 12:35—"

"Can we please just get lunch?"

"But what about the thing?"

"WhAT THiNG?!—" 

"Hi, welcome to 'Hotter Than Your Ex', are you ready to place your orders?" 

Sungho's eyes slid over to the waiter very briefly, then found Taesan's brown paper bag. His lips hung open in betrayal. 

"What the—did you already get lunch?"

"No." Taesan replied shortly, flitting through the pages of the menu. "I'll get the Pork Fritter with Marinara sauce, please."

The waiter nodded, jotting down his preference, then turned to the agitated, blonde-haired male. 

"And you, sir?"

Unconvinced by Taesan's answer, Sungho's eyes narrowed to slits. Nevertheless, he still placed his order.  

"I'll have the House Special Poke Bowl, please, and thank you."

"Great! It won't be long." The waiter left.

Approximately 10 seconds went by where no one spoke.

"So, what's in the bag?" 

Wordlessly, the dark haired male moved the paper bag closer to his shorter friend.

"Chestnuts? Who buys roasted chestnuts during a heatwave?"

"I didn't buy them." With a roll of his eyes and intertwined arms, Taesan slid further down his seat as he watched his friend try one.

"Oh, these are really nice. Mind if I have some?"

Taesan's sharp eyes studied Sungho. "Don't eat all of them," Was all he said.

After all, you did pack them for him.

It'd be rude for him not to have the majority of them. Yeah...

Gosh, it was like all he could think about was chestnuts these days. Stupid chestnuts!

⁠⸝⸝⸝ 🌰 Ⳋ 𐭩 ⁠✧˚ ༘ ♥︎ more ᢉ days ♥︎ later ᢉ 𐭩 Ⳋ 🌰 ⸝⸝⸝⁠ ♥︎⁠ ✧˚ ༘

"Wow, I didn't know you liked chestnuts this much. You've practically been here everyday!" your voice called out as you packed him what you discovered to be his most-bought flavour. 

Salted caramel and cinnamon. The first one he ever tried from you.

"Yeah, well. I got to stay loyal to my calling."

You snorted, eyeing him with a gentle look. "And buying my chestnuts at eight in the morning is your calling now?"

He shrugged, taking the bag from your hands. You shared a touch, his fingers lingering a nanosecond longer than usual. "Apparently."

Actually, he had no idea why he kept coming over, buying bags upon bags of chestnuts he knew he wouldn't finish. 

He didn't even like chestnuts.

You both exchanged brief greetings— Taesan having overpaid for his order whilst very convincingly telling you to keep the change—before parting ways. 

Unbeknownst to you, he turned around once more when he was far enough away for you not to spot him. You had continued roasting chestnuts and trying to wave down passing civilians. 

Nobody even blinked an eye.

Taesan sighed, his lids lowering the longer he stared at your fruitless efforts.

Guess it really was his calling.

At the office, Taesan's dress shoes resonated with satisfying clicks and clacks against the marbled floor of the building. Emerging through the door to his shared working space, he dropped his load of chestnuts on the largest office table, usually used for group discussions.

An aroma he hd grown to familiarise with you began to fill the room. Without so much as a single explanation, he began to share the various brown paper bags. Gently lowering them on each desk like they were worth millions.

Jaehyun, one of his colleagues that always appeared to be early, watched him quietly—for a singular second, until he had to inquire what the heck was going on. "Hey, why have you got so many chestnuts?... in the middle of summer?"

Taesan halted in the middle of plopping a paper bag in front of Leehan's empty desk. "Because... I was hungry?"

"For this many?"

"I was feeling benevolent."

Jaehyun blinked. 

"Again, for this many?" 

Taesan's forehead creased, his brows raising in fake innocence. "Yeah, I guess. Why're you so shocked? You think I'm heartless or something?" 

"No, no. It's not that, but..."

The tall male waited patiently, cocking his head to the side, arms tightly crossed over his chest.

"You do realise half the people in this office hate chestnuts, right?" 

Jaehyun blinked up at him from his seat, finally having the gall to finish his sentence. His face took a totally astonished turn, a heavy sense of bewilderment and amusement in his calculative gaze.

"Can you please just...eat your chestnuts?" A defeated sigh left Taesan.

Then Woonhak waltzed in with a brightening, "Good morning!" His nose caught it before his eyes. With his youthful gaze, he twisted and turned, taking in the sight of all the random paper bags and the sweet aroma exuding from within them. 

An aroma he knew all too well as a designated foodie.

Finally, after closer inspection, and one look at Jaehyun's constipated expression—which was failing ever so terribly to not burst out laughing there and then—Woonhak asked, "Why so many chestnuts?" 

"Oh, for crying out loud!"

And that's the story of how a single chestnut sample changed Taesan (and the office's) whole life.

/ᐠ. .ᐟ\⁠⁠ ── ‧₊˚ 🌰 how was ♥︎ your sample? 🌰 ˚₊‧ ──/ᐠ. .ᐟ\⁠

tags: @cinnamorollhyuka @niceguyfreshguyofthenight @ishuayou

[212art]

Before Breakfast

Pairing: Taesan × fem!Reader

Warnings: suggestive content, morning intimacy, kissing, teasing, implied erection, physical affection, clingy behavior

Summary: You only wanted to make breakfast quietly, but Taesan waking up needy, sleepy, and attached to your waist quickly turns the morning into something much harder to ignore.

Morning light spilled softly through the kitchen window. You had woken up first and carefully moved Taesan’s arm off your waist without waking him. Barefoot, you made your way to the kitchen, prepared coffee, and when you tried reaching for the cereal box on the top shelf, you stretched as far as you could.

Suddenly, a hand appeared behind you and grabbed the box effortlessly.

You turned slightly, and there he was—black hair completely messy, eyes half-open, still carrying that sleepy expression on his face.

“Thanks,” you murmured with a smile.

Taesan didn’t answer at first. He simply handed you the cereal with one hand while the other settled on your waist, pulling you back against his body. He rested his forehead on your shoulder and wrapped both arms around your waist, tight but comfortable, like he still didn’t want to fully wake up yet.

“Are you hungry?” he asked in that low, rough morning voice. “Why didn’t you wake me up…?”

Before you could answer, you felt something hard pressing against your ass.

You froze.

When you turned your head to look at him, you saw the corner of his lips curl into that lazy, slightly cocky smile you liked so much. He buried his face into your neck, breathing warm against your skin.

“What…?” he murmured innocently.

“Dongmin… what are you trying to do this early in the morning?” you asked between laughter and surprise.

“Nothing,” he answered against your neck, though you could hear the smile in his voice.

He started leaving slow, soft kisses just below your ear, moving lower little by little.

You tried slipping out of his arms with quiet laughter, but he didn’t let you. He held you tighter against him, and every time you moved, you could feel him rubbing against you. Taesan let out tiny low sounds, almost inaudible, slipping out with the friction.

“Dongmin…” you laughed, half scolding him.

He lifted his head slightly. His sleepy eyes looked at you with that almost pouty expression he got when he was extra sensitive in the mornings. When he spoke again, his voice came out low, nearly pleading.

“Couldn’t you help me just a little…?”

His hand slid a little higher along your waist beneath your shirt, warm and lazy, while he kissed your neck again, slower this time. He still looked half asleep, but he was clearly very awake somewhere else.

You turned around in his arms until you were facing him. Taesan rested his forehead against yours, staring at you with that calm intensity that always made you weak.

“Please…” he whispered, brushing his lips softly against yours. “Just for a little while… before breakfast.”

And with that deep voice and sleepy gaze, he already knew you were going to say yes.

Like always.

[lovelylimonz]

04 — are you from tennessee

CONTENT: crack, fluff, random stuff atp 🫩

WARNINGS: cursing, the tiniest bit of inappropriate jokes, mentions of ‘yn’ and rude jokes. (if i missed anything lmk)

SS: 9

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NOTE 🗒️: she tried atleast! i was in the process of making a angsty taesan mini smau series but i’m lowk giving up so here another lovely dasher chap 😇

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟

TAGLIST (open): @ponyoswrld @niceguyfreshguyofthenight @ziziforsan @cinnamorollhyuka @sqrclouds @idontknowhattoputformyname @ivehan @kinderjjamie @beomtomie @loafsoobin2 @beababeomie

[dat-town]

love & war | a bnd x pacific rim series

In a world devastated by alien monster attacks, the Busan Shatterdome is at the forefront of the Kaiju war. Rangers, scientists, engineers, everybody is doing their part to cancel the apocalypse. With humanity counting down its days, it really is the worst time to fall in love but... what if it's also their last chance?

GENRES. pacific rim au, hurt/comfort, romance

WARNINGS. birth names used, canon-typical mentions of violence, loss and death (story-specific warnings are listed on each post)

NOTES. the stories are posted in chronological order and characters are cross-referenced but each story can be read as a standalone

WAR TIMELINE:

war of hearts kaiju scientist!Leehan & ranger!female reader × best friends to lovers

“Donghyun–” He could see something break in your eyes as you glanced behind your shoulder and then back at him. Your pulse thundered under his fingertips. The sound of sirens and footsteps dulled in the background. “Don’t go,” he pleaded, cold fear grasping him with bony fingers.

war with heaven ranger!Taesan & nurse!female reader × he fell first, he fell harder

“Does this hurt?” You ask, voice coming from much closer. “No,” Dongmin lies because this much is nothing. He has once showed up to his Academy evaluation with a broken rib and nobody noticed. You hum again, contemplating, then press into the skin near his shoulder blade harder and he nearly blacks out from the sharp pain. “Ah, fuck.”

the great war drift specialist!Riwoo & ex-ranger!female reader × he becomes her safe space

For a while it’s easy to forget that humanity is still fighting a deadly war. Then two days later the alarm sets off and Sanghyuk watches through a screen as Canada loses a Jaeger and two Rangers. When he finds you in the crowd, you're shaking. He holds you until it stops.

a love like war ppdc field agent!Sungho & black market dealer!female reader × enemies to lovers

TBA

war of hormone j-technician!Jaehyun & loccent officer!female reader × situationship to lovers

TBA

start a war cadet!Woonhak & cadet!female reader × rivals to lovers

TBA