you’re losing me. [ part one ] | haechan x fem!reader
synopsis. it’s been six weeks since you ended your six-year relationship with haechan, and it seems like he’s already moved on.
category. social media au, angst, ex!haechan, hurt/no comfort
warnings. language
note. all u need to know is that this was inspired by “the black dog”, “you’re losing me”, and “loml”. everything in dark mode are flashbacks, and timestamps dont matter. enjoy! (im sorry in advance)
part 1 | part 2 | part 2.5 | part 3
NOTE. impulsively posting this three-part (at least i think it will only be 3 parts 😭) smau bc i might never post it if i dont HAHAHAHAHA anyway, i’ll post parts 2 and 3 during the weekend! (i swearrrr i wont abandon this 🙏🏼)
What better birthday gift can one give than the gift of truth?
pairing: seungkwan x fem!reader
word count: 3.4k
genre: fluff, smut/nsfw
rating: r-18. nsfw, mdni!
tags: oblivious idiots in love with each other, mutual pining, literally can’t resist each other once they start, we're still celebrating seungkwan's birthday here, mentions of food, barely proofread pls bear with me
warnings: alcohol, allusions to sex, eventual sex haha, making out, dry humping (?) making love, groping, fingering, implied unprotected sex (help idk how to do nsfw tags pls tell me if i missed anything
a/n: this was based on two requests lifetimes ago by rachel @strxwberry-skiess and tara @diamonddaze01. i have a feeling you two don’t remember it anymore haha but i’m tagging both of u anyway. this was also intended as a seungkwan birthday fic that i’ve been revising back and forth and just wasn’t satisfied enough to post until now, hence the setting. i hope this marks the end of my writing drought—i desperately need it.
. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁ masterlist . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁
✎﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏
It started with a sweater and spilled soju.
“I’m so sorry!”
“No, don’t worry about it!”
“But it’s your favorite sweater. I just ruined it.”
Technically, you both did. It actually started with dinner at your place because you owed him. Big time.
A few weeks ago, you dared to be the only one who didn’t bring a gift to Seungkwan’s birthday gathering—and everyone called you out for it. So with the whole party as witness, Hansol and Chan made you promise to give Seungkwan a gift and treat him to dinner to make up for this huge lapse in judgment.
Sincerely, you wish you could slap those two in the face sometimes. But you wouldn’t, of course. They just knew exactly what they were trying to set up then.
You and Seungkwan decided on a simple homemade dinner at your place because according to him, “You never invite me to your place! How many times have you invited those two idiots to your place without me?”
If only you could tell him the real reason why that was always the case.
When the fateful day finally came, Seungkwan arrived at your apartment early to genuinely offer his help, much to your gratitude. He was even gracious enough to bring your favorite yangnyeom fried chicken.
“I knew you’d like it. It’s your favorite,” he replied with a nonchalant shrug when you questioned him with his offering.
In return, you claimed, “Just don’t go expecting me to give you your gift right away. I’m saving it for the end of the night because it’s special.”
He kept saying that “you don’t have to do this, they were just poking fun.” But you were never one to back down from a promise—especially if it involved Seungkwan.
Dinner went by easily. The weather allowed for a window propped open to let in some of the cool breeze that added to what you believe was a nice atmosphere. Your plates had long been empty when Seungkwan made his way to the fridge to get a refill of water. Instead, he let out a cry of disbelief.
“Ya! You have five bottles of soju and you didn’t bother bringing them out?”
You stayed silent. There was a reason why you didn’t bring those out on purpose. It was to avoid incidents like this, because you and Seungkwan—alone—and alcohol was a combination that had never happened before and an equation that you tried to avoid solving for as long as possible.
Fate had other plans today, apparently.
In his usual way, whenever there was alcohol in his system, he turned into the clingy kind of drunk that he was. This time, however, you noticed that he was different somehow. He was braver, louder, clingier. He was never like this when you two were drinking with friends.
As the late afternoon turned to evening, you two found yourselves inching closer to each other with every story and joke exchanged. This time, a particularly effective punchline you delivered had him in a laughing mess, with his hands instantly reaching for you. He just failed to notice the two very full glasses in your hands at that moment.
This was when chaos ensued.
In the aftermath, he looked at you and your obliviousness. “It’s just soju and water. Nothing a quick wash can’t do.”
He let out an audible sigh of defeat. Without thinking, he proceeded to peel off the ruined piece of clothing, revealing a thin white shirt that was barely there—riding up along with the sweater and revealing his torso. The sight got worse as he completely removed the sweater, the shirt clinging to his chest and still wet from the spilled liquid. You tried to avert your eyes as quickly as you could, but Seungkwan had already caught you staring.
“I, uh…” He pulled down his shirt and held the wet sweater in his hand. You cleared your throat and tried to gather your wits.
“I’m a terrible host. Give me that, I can chuck it in the laundry. I’ll get you a new shirt.” You stood to do as you said. You ignored the fact that he followed you all the way to your room, stopping to lean at your doorway as you rummaged through your drawers for a spare shirt.
You ignored how you could feel his eyes on you, probably spurred on with bravery because you had your back turned toward him. If only you could see how intense his gaze was, looking you up and down while weighing the two options in his head carefully.
He broke the silence first with a question you least expected. “You can talk to me honestly, right?”
“Of course, Seungkwan.” You busied yourself with looking for any shirt, trying to buy time to avoid meeting the piercing gaze you knew would meet.
“Were you…staring at me earlier?”
How dare— “Uh…”
“Okay, I’ll start with an easier question. Are you sober?”
“Yes.” You stand to face him, but not quite meeting his eyes yet. “I mean, I am now. Who wouldn’t be after you spill two glasses on your—friend?”
He laughs. “That’s true.” He pretends to not notice that slight hitch in your voice earlier.
“Here’s your shirt.” You hold up the oversized piece of clothing.
He pushes himself from your doorway and walks—in your perspective—at a painstakingly slow pace. His shirt is still a bit wet and still clinging just a bit in all the right places.
He stops right in front of you, a few steps too close to excuse it for a friendly distance. It absolutely was not.
He gingerly takes the shirt from your hand. To your utter surprise, he replaces it by taking your hand in his. You mask your nerves with an equally nervous laugh as you ask him, “Are you sober?”
“Yeah. Well, I can tell you that I’m sober enough to clearly know what I’m doing.” He continues even as he slowly intertwines his fingers in yours. “When we were in Italy, they said something during our wine tasting. ‘In vino veritas.’”
You were familiar with this saying. “‘In wine—’”
“‘There is truth.’” He completes the saying, taking yet another step closer. “We didn’t exactly drink wine, but can you still tell me the truth?”
You debate with light speed in your head where and how you want this conversation to end. It seemed there was only one answer the moment he decided to close the distance by settling his one hand on your waist and the other brushing your cheek—the clean shirt long forgotten on the floor.
Your heart was racing, and you knew this wasn’t because of the alcohol any longer. The air was thick with unresolved tension. You both knew what this was. This only happened when the two of you were alone, where awkward smiles and silences helped fill in the undeniable attraction that you both kept denying.
So you swallow your pride and nod in reply, and he smiles at your response before continuing, “So, were you staring?”
“I’m still staring now,” you say as you travel across his torso still wrapped in his wet shirt.
His chuckle turned into a laugh, his beautifully musical and infectious laugh, tinged with a hint of embarrassment. “Stop it! I’m losing focus. God, I really didn’t think this through, did I?”
You were nothing if honest, even more so when it came to Seungkwan. He had no problem asking you this question because that’s what he liked about you the most. You weren’t like other people—like him even—who beat around the bush and never mean what they actually say.
“Maybe not,” you say while holding back a laugh of your own.
The smile drops from his face in an instant, his smiling lips closing together in the blink of an eye. When his eyes open, they contain an unspoken depth, his expression changing into something more serious than you’ve ever seen from him before.
“Help me take this off, will you?”
“Why don’t you kiss me first before you demand such things?”
He smirks and claims your chin between his fingers. “Thought you’d never ask.”
You two always had that “will they, won’t they” dynamic for the longest time. It seems that tonight, they will. And they did.
The room smelled of sex. It was undeniable at this point to not acknowledge what had just happened between you and Seungkwan. In the heat of the moment and the throes of passion, you had both done things once unspeakable between the two of you.
If only you both knew what constantly went on in your heads the moment you two were separated from each other.
“So, is this the gift?” Seungkwan asks breathlessly, his chest heaving with exertion and his heart still racing at a million beats per minute.
“What?” Your mind was still swimming in stars, still coming down from your high as you curled yourself in his arms and folded against his warm skin.
”This.” He pulls you in closer and tangles your legs with his, endlessly craving for the touch of your skin on his.
You lightly jab his forehead jokingly. “You forget that you initiated all this with your hand-holding and sweet-talking about being honest.”
“Hey, I just wanted a kiss. You gave me so much more.” He nuzzled his nose against yours and, god, you couldn’t get enough of this Seungkwan. If only you knew that this is how he’d be with you, it would’ve been so worth it to tell him how you felt way earlier.
Wait. You haven’t told him how you felt. Not exactly.
But instead, you land your lips chastely on his. “There’s your kiss. Are you happy now?” He nods, but you could see his eyes and his smile being weighed down by impending sleep. He yawns, and you catch it as well and mirror his actions.
“Good night, sleepyhead.” With a final kiss from Seungkwan to your forehead, you both settle into an easy slumber, with both of you feeling lighter in your minds and hearts.
“Seungkwan.”
He stirs, sleep still overtaking his senses. “Hmm?”
“Seungkwan-ah.” You reach up to move his bed hair from his forehead.
“Mhmm?”
And for a moment, you forget what you were supposed to say because you were struck by the beauty of this unguarded version of Seungkwan. You trail your hand from his forehead to the apple of his cheeks, where you feel them move as he smiles.
“Could you turn on the heat? It’s getting a bit cold.”
He opens his eyes to the most beautiful sight of you in the near break of dawn, the first light filtering through the sheer curtains and starting to illuminate your room.
In response, as if by instinct, he leaned down to kiss you, much to your surprise. When he broke away, he could still feel the curve of the smile of your lips against his. “Why don’t I keep you warm, instead?”
He pulled you closer, the heat from his hand traveling across and over your body. Just as he predicted, you feel the heat rising on your cheeks as you recall the intensity and fervor of last night. But you could care less.
Wordlessly, you take him up on his offer, wrapping your arms around his neck and meeting him in another kiss. Wordlessly, he accepts this as your response and he parts your lips open with his to allow entrance to go in deeper, tasting you for all you are against the ecstasy of your tongue.
While his mouth plays with yours, his hands continue to roam the ebbs and flows of your body, from your neck, your breasts, your waist, and finally tracing the curve of your ass with his hands. He buries himself in the crook of your neck, breathing in your scent, leaving open-mouthed kisses as he raises your one leg, allowing it to wrap around his waist.
In this position, your heated core was wide open for his evident arousal. It was as if the events of last night were not enough to satiate your wants, your needs, and deeper down, your true feelings. Your bodies stay flush against each other, skin to skin as if you could not come any closer. You move in sync, accompanied by the gasps and moans, the hitches in both your breaths, as you feel his fingers working their way down there dictating the rhythm that you two would move to while your own fingers clench to fist his hair.
If last night was desperate, needy, almost making up for lost time, this morning was deliberate, languid, almost lazy with the way his lips never left yours to swallow all the delicious sounds coming from your mouth. When he finally filled your awaiting entrance, your bodies felt like a natural fit with one another. Each thrust between your slick bodies felt like a resounding mantra in the stillness of the daybreak—a mantra of unsaid promises and unresolved thoughts spoken through actions with every moment that his lips latch, tug, bite at yours.
The light of the dawn filtered through your room, casting an ethereal glow on your bodies. Yet this morning, you both see nothing but stars. When you both come down from the heavens, you take the time to go to the bathroom, while he takes the time to turn on the heat despite your complaints.
“You’ll thank me later,” Seungkwan said as you returned to his welcoming arms. As if it were the most natural thing in the world, you tangled your limbs in his and let sleep take over your senses once more.
By the time you come to again, it’s 9 am. The sun was fully shining through your curtains to the point of almost blinding you. The urge to pee was overwhelming, so you disentangled yourself from the sheets in your sluggish state. Sitting on the toilet, you rub your eyes and feel the aches of your body settle in—along with other realizations.
Like the fact that you were butt naked. In your bed. With Seungkwan.
And you two did not just fuck last night. You made love with him in the wee hours of the morning.
Holy shit.
As you splash water on your tired face, you look in the mirror and see…an unexpected glow. You touch your lips, trailing your hand down your neck and your chest, recalling all the other places where Seungkwan’s hands caressed you. You start to smile, yet it is gone as quickly as it came.
Now what?
With resolve, you step out of the bathroom to face the reality of the morning. What greets you is the sight of Seungkwan propped up against the headboard, checking his phone, with his bed hair and bare chest turning to look at you. He smiles, one that reaches his eyes.
He is so beautiful.
His eyes travel across your naked body, and you suddenly feel shy. You look across the floor for the discarded shirt from last night, pulling it over you and grabbing a clean pair of panties from your drawer.
He just watches you throughout this charade.
“I…uh, went through some of your clothes. Borrowed a pair of shorts. I hope you don’t mind.”
“No, that's okay.”
“For a moment, I thought you left me. I woke up to an empty bed.”
You stop, fully turning to see the amusement in his expression. “You may have forgotten that this is my room. If anyone should have left, it would be you.”
His eyes narrowed. “Did you want me to? Leave?”
You don’t answer, afraid that whatever comes out of your mouth will betray your sensibilities. Instead, you sit down on the empty space of bed beside him.
“Are we still telling the truth?”
One side of his mouth quirks up. “Always, I hope.”
“You should know that there’s a reason why I never wanted you to come over here in the first place.”
He physically winces, anticipating the worst from that statement. “And that is?”
“Because I don’t think I’d ever let you leave. That’s the truth.”
A sigh of relief. “Come here.” He closes the gap between you by clasping your hand and pulling you back into bed, encircling you in his arms.
You lay there together, your head on his chest as he mindlessly plays with your hair. He’d always been a handsy person—all his friends knew that—but most especially to the people he had taken a particular liking to. His fixation was always different with each person. With you, it was your hair.
“Would you like to hear my truth?” He asks.
You wordlessly nod.
“I’ve always wanted to do that with you.”
“Do what?”
“You know…last night, this morning,” Seungkwan trails off.
“No way.”
“Yes, way.”
Your eyes were as wide as a doe’s. “You…never made it obvious or anything.”
“That’s because I’m a decent person who doesn’t act on my primal impulses out of nowhere. Please, you’re too damn pretty and sexy for me to ignore you from the moment we met.”
You slap his chest. “You’re playing. Stop it.”
“I’m serious! It didn’t help at all when I found out that you listened to all the same girl groups that I did. You think I don’t see you when you dance? When you move your damn hips? I have eyes, you know. I’m a simple man.”
“Okay, okay. I see you, girl group enthusiast.” You smiled up at him. “I guess I’ll shake my ass at you more often, then.”
“Oh, please, you will ruin me.” He bites back a grin. “No, but honestly—beyond that,” he said as he looked at you pointedly, “you unlocked this little kid inside me again whenever I was with you, and…I realized I wanted to do more with you. And be more with you. It just grew and grew until it hit me that I just I always wanted you around.”
As if to prove his next point, he meets your eyes and doesn’t let go of your gaze. “If you let me in and let me stay, I don’t think I’d ever leave if you don’t want me to.”
You purse your lips to hold back the smile growing on your lips. Your heart was pounding, pondering the consequences of the next few words you were about to say.
“Well, if you say that then another truth I have is that I’ve always held back from you. I don’t know if you’ve ever noticed that.”
“I did.”
“Well, I guess I didn’t do a good enough job of hiding it.”
“Why though?”
“I couldn’t trust myself around you.”
He furrows his eyebrows. “Have I not made you comfortable enough around me? Have I not been the definition of a poster boy best friend?”
“Exactly. You think I could let you go if I mess up and start kissing you on a whim? Seungkwan, your friends can be full of shit sometimes. Believe me when I say that a lot of times, you’re definitely the hottest guy in the room.”
“Wow, you must love me a whole lot for you to say something like that.”
“What if I do?”
He stills. “Do you really?”
You give him a reassuring smile. “We’re still telling the truth, aren’t we?” But the truth also gives you away. You look down as your smile falters. “Friendship is always such a fragile thing to break. And I don’t think I ever want to lose you.”
“Like I said,” he says while lifting your chin up to meet his eyes. They were glowing, and you realize it reminded you of your own eyes when you looked at yourself in the bathroom mirror. It was as if you two were reflections of one another—the way you two always were without realizing it. “If you let me in and let me stay, I don’t think I’d ever leave if you don’t want me to.”
You could do nothing but smile.
And you hear both of your stomachs growl at the same time. You both laugh, loud, full, and deep-bellied, the only way you two do when you’re with each other. There were never any fake laughs if you were together.
You land a quick peck on his lips. “I’ll make you breakfast. Consider it a gift.”
You stood up to leave the bed, and you wait until it clicks in his head. “So you never got me a gift?” The disbelief on his face was almost enough to move you to guilt. But you had another ace up your sleeve.
“Why don’t you get your ass out of bed first and help me make breakfast so I can give you the real gift?”
He huffs. “You’re lucky I love you.”
“I’m lucky you’re telling the truth.” You wink and leave him smirking. In wine there is truth, they say, and in truth there is a newfound sense of freedom he can’t wait to share with you.
You turn your head away from your bathroom mirror at the sound of Wonwoo’s voice.
There he is, standing by the doorway, his necktie dangling from his fingers.
Despite sending him countless tutorial videos and practicing in front of the mirror together, he still claims he needs help with his tie.
But you both know the truth—he just loves having you close to him.
“Please?” He gives you those puppy dog eyes, your own personal kryptonite.
You walk toward him, fingers working deftly at his collar, deliberately brushing against his warm skin as you loop the silk fabric. His breath catches at your touch, his pulse thrumming beneath your fingertips as you tighten the knot and slide it up to his neck. When you finish, you smooth down his collar, letting your hands linger on his chest, feeling it rise and fall with each breath he takes.
Looking up at him, you find his eyes fixed on you, their intensity making your own pulse race. Admittedly, you love having him this close too.
Your hands slide up to grasp his lapels, pulling him down until your lips meet in a slow, tender kiss that deepens when his arms encircle your waist, one hand on the small of your back as he leans into you.
“Do we have to go to this thing tonight?” he murmurs against your mouth, his fingers trailing down the curve of your ass.
You laugh softly. “It’s your work party, remember?”
“I know, but...” His voice drops lower as he traces patterns on your hip, nuzzling the crook of your neck. “We can have much more fun at home.”
The soft moan that escapes your lips as he suckles on your flesh is all the answer he needs. He lifts you off the floor, carrying you to the bedroom. When your back meets the mattress, you watch as he begins to loosen that tie.
“Wait—” You sit up to stop him, making him arch an eyebrow in confusion.
You give his tie a gentle tug, then slide your tongue across his lips. “Keep it on.”
The last thing you see is his devilish smile as he settles between your legs, making you gasp when the silk fabric brushes against your sensitive skin.
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synopsis: forget about being unnoticed, there is someone who knows you to the bone anyway.
tag list: @awooghan @cosmic-railwayxo (join the taglist here!)
note: hello... i am back again. here is my svt fic debut ig bc i've been itching to write for svt too! consider this as a preview of the vernon long fic that i've been writing bc this blog would definitely be drier than before if i leave it like this as i finish it LMAO will definitely write more svt drabbles soon!
I know you—how easy would it be to hear that from someone with the most genuine and gentle voice?
Sometimes, even if you’ve known them for years, they still don’t know you to the bone. Even with your regular routine every day, they still wouldn’t remember and be able to predict your next move. It never stayed in their minds.
Things like that made you think about something—was it that easy for people not to be interested in you? Was there anything about you that could pull someone’s attention? Was there anything indifferent about you?
“You’re gonna grab some coffee later, right?”
You haven’t told anyone about that. To be fair, you always buy coffee. You bet your habit is something insignificant—not worth anyone remembering. You’re more used to being the organization's coffee addict. You’re more used to that instead of hearing someone remember that you’re yet to buy coffee.
But who are you to expect? Someone like Vernon would keep that in mind. You often forget that he’ll always be there to know you so well. You don’t need to doubt that he might even know you more than you know about yourself.
You smile, all thoughts from earlier washing away. As always, you have someone you can trust who will ground you back. Someone as observant as him would be impossible to find because he’s the most attentive person you know. You don’t even need to find someone else like that.
“You know me so well.”
Vernon scratches the back of his neck and chuckles. He already noticed that you’ve been spacing out frequently in the past hour, so he immediately knew you hadn’t gotten your daily cup of iced mocha.
He can’t help but giggle at how you acknowledge his desire to love you this way. It makes his cheeks red and his palms sweaty.
You didn’t need to know, but he always found you to be the most exciting and fascinating person he had ever met. And to this day, he often feels his cheeks getting warm whenever you reach for his hands and blabber anything. You also didn’t need to know that you’ve been giving him this effect for long.
It’s an effect that he never thought of treating anyway.
He’d rather know everything about every minuscule about you and keep you in his arms to not see any doubt. After all, he knows you’d tease him endlessly if he told you about his weakness because of you.
[ 2:27 PM ] — jay leans in, pressing his lips against yours as you were fixing his collar and you, being smitten, can’t help but not pull away to continue fixing it, but chose to melt against the kiss and kiss him back. you smile against the kiss, giggles muffled against jay’s lips as his arms wrap around your waist to pull you impossibly closer to him.
“what’s so funny about me kissing you?” his voice low when he asked, lightly pulling away as he rests his forehead against yours, lips just a breath away.
you shake your head, looking into his eyes through your lashes with a smile on your lips. “you just make me giddy, is all.” you mumble and jay smiles, presses his lips against yours once again. your hands sliding up from his collar to his jaw. “jongseong,” you say against his lips and he hums, kissing you harder because apparently, he’s not doing it hard when you can still talk. you hum, hand going on his chest to softly push him. “you’re gonna be late.”
jay frowns and you smile, hand coming up to his chin as you wipe off your lipstick. “what if i call them and tell them something came up so i can stay with you?” he asks and you chuckle.
“then heeseung would say ‘what, your neediness for y/n?’,” you tease and jay groans, remembering that day when he called in sick because he wanted to stay, but heeseung, of course, knew what was up. “it will just for a few hours, honey. then you’ll be back home, here with me.”
“home is you, y/n.” jay corrects and you smile.
“and you’re mine.” you say as you go back, fixing his collar. after a few minutes, the van honks three times to let you two know they’re out waiting for jay. “take care, love.”
“i’ll see you later.” jay says and you nod.
“i’ll be here.” you say and jay leans in, but you lean back with a smile. you shake your head, gesturing you’re lipstick will transfer on his lips again. normally, you don’t care, but you didn’t want to spoil jay’s look anymore. “go now.”
“but y/n,” jay softly whines and you shake your head. then van honks again, prolonging it this time. you laugh, gesturing to the door. “fine. bye.”
“bye.” you softly say and jay turns around, going to the door, but he turns back. “yeah?”
“my wallet,” he says, walking back. “i forgot my—“ jay cuts himself off as he cups your chin and presses his lips against yours.
jay pulls away with a goofy grin. “park jongseong!” you exclaim, laughing as jay runs out of the shared house, yelling that he loves you. he runs to the van, opening the door as he climbs in and closes it.
heeseung chuckles, shaking his head, jake looks at him with teasing eyes and sunghoon grabs a tissue, pressing it against jay’s lip.
“what the fuck?”
“y/n’s lipstick mark is on your lips, simp.”
“oh.”
— a/n: hi, im back after ghosting for idk ever since hee day lol,, anyway have this jjong drabble lol <3 i'll answer asks inn a bit,, ily for being so patient with me! rbs, comments/feedbacks, and likes are highly appreciated! <3
PAIRING. bf! sunghoon x gn reader
GENRE. fluff, established relationship
WARNINGS. i hate kids /hj
WC. 370 smth words
𓂋˚˖ A/N. first enha fic!! this isn’t actually the debut fic i want for enha but this is what i have atm </3 longer jungwon fic coming soon (hopefully bc school is coming up again boo) !!! wrote this after i went to the one and only ikea branch in my country and found it busier than disneyland ☠️
“THIS IS SO ANNOYING,”
“What is?”
“I bet you my entire savings account 80% of the people here are not here to buy furniture,” you offhandedly comment as you enter another showroom and carefully study the aesthetics of the room. Sunghoon only chuckles as he switches between watching you walk around the slightly cramped room and actually looking at the furniture.
“Why are there so many kids and elderlies sitting around? This isn’t an amusement park, and I’m sure the grandparents just want to rest at home,” you pause before reaching for the tag of an interesting-looking bookshelf and surprising yourself with the price. “And so many couples on dates too,”
“We’re a couple on a date too, aren’t we?”
Turning around, you reach for Sunghoon’s hand and pull him out and into the next showroom. “Yeah, but I am at least here to actually buy furniture,” Sunghoon giggles as he notices the tips of your ears growing a little red. “And you’re here because I need another head to help me and you’re the only one available,”
“I literally saw your roommate lying on the couch when I came over to pick you up. They seemed to be free,” he retorts in a teasing manner.
“Just shut up and tell me what you think about this coffee table,” you say pointing to the short-legged table in front of you.
“It’s… okay,”
“You’re no help,”
“But my presence is helpful, right?” he says, obviously staring at you with a cheeky smile while swinging your interlocked hands.
Turning towards him, you find his smile quite contagious and do the same as well. “Why are you being so clingy today?”
He only giggles, letting go of your grasp and moving to sit on the couch beside the rejected coffee table. “I think we should put something like this in our future house,”
Snickering, you move to sit beside him. “You wish,”
“Why? You don’t want to live with me?”
“No, I just don’t really like this couch,”
“So you want to live with me?” you turn to find him already looking at you, smiles growing slowly from the atmosphere.
In your peripheral, a child starts skipping in your direction, bringing you back to reality. “Let’s keep going, Hoon.”
what's the point in repenting when you'll do it all over again?
PAIRINGS: Bang Chan x fem!Reader
GENRE: Mature (Smut)
CONTAINS: Priest!Chan, lots of religious themes (mainly catholic with possible inaccuracies), age gap between Chan and Reader (about 20 years), Chan is referred to as Chris here, infidelity, implied and briefly described smut.
WORD COUNT: 1,148k
A/N: this actually came out a bit softer than intended lol but I hope ya'll still would enjoy!
Over twenty years of serving as a priest, he has never seen anyone as beautiful as you. You, a younger woman, well enough in her early twenties, who carries herself with so much grace, it is no wonder people seem to fall in love with her quickly.
Chris was no exception to that too.
He has always admired the way you look whenever you’re on your knees, praying ever so intently. He sees you, always, despite the fact that you would always sit in the back row with your husband. Chris never liked him, the young man only a few years your senior. For some reason, he never liked the fact that you were wed to him too early, you never loved the man anyway. You said so yourself during your confessionals as you prayed for forgiveness over harboring hatred towards your spouse.
Your beauty first graced his church a few summers ago as if you were the virgin Mary herself, and Chris found himself praying every night for forgiveness for looking at someone else's wife ever since then.
“It has been three days since my last confession.”
He knew better than to do something he could regret, and he knew that fighting against temptation was no use. But he could never seem to flee from you, sin incarnate disguised as an angel straight from heaven.
“Tell me, dove. What sins have you committed since then?”
Down at the old church, where the dungeons used to be, Chris’ thumb glides over your bottom lip as you kneel between his legs, your head resting against his right thigh as you stare up at him with eyes filled with nothing but sin.
Your skin glows with the candlelight that decorates the priest’s quarters, making it even harder for Chris to take his eyes off of you. He wouldn’t even dare to blink. Does your bastard husband even adore you the way he does?
You press a soft kiss on the pad of his thumb, one that has his insides swirling in all places.
“I find myself thinking about another man while my husband is away,” you admit, your lips moving against his digit before taking it in, your teeth now biting on his nail bed.
The man before you only hums, slightly shifting on his spot before he removes his thumb on your mouth only to smear your spit over your lips like gloss before cupping your cheek.
“What else?”
“I slept with him,” you say, your hands now moving to smooth over his trousers, feeling the firm muscle of his legs beneath the fabric. “Repeatedly. Multiple times. For days. While my husband gets too busy working in the factory.”
Inch by inch, your hands travel higher and higher until it cups over his hardening length, squeezing ever so slightly until it drags out a hiss from him.
“What should I do to absolve myself from my sins, Father?”
For a moment, Chris thinks that he should be the one who’s asking that question. How could a well loved priest like him who’s been serving the church for years commit something like this? How can he preach about abstaining from immoral acts when he himself lays with a woman who isn’t even his wife?
A hypocrite, that’s what he is, teaching the followers of his church to look away from lust and flee from temptation, but here he is. Here you are.
“Pray.” He says, leaning forward as he uses both of his hands to hold your face, his fingers brushing against your hair. You can already feel his warm breath hovering against your lips, his eyes seemingly roaming around to examine your features until it lands on your shoulder.
“Repent.”
Goosebumps bloom on your skin, trailing after Chris’ finger as he pulls one of the fallen straps of your dress back to your shoulder, before pulling you closer to him by the chin until your nose touches his. “Ask your God for forgiveness for every wrong doing you’ve done.”
Your hands mirror his, gently holding his face and thumbing at the skin as you scoff at his words. “This is wrong,” you breathed out, yet a small smile still remained on your face, the pads of your fingers feeling the growing stubble by his jaw. “Should I tell God about our little secret?”
Chris huffs out a chuckle at that, eyes closed as he shakes his head. “God knows everything. Even this.”
You hum at that, leaning in to peck his lips.
“Well,” a peck to his cheek.
“If he knows,” a peck to his dimple.
“Let’s just hope he’s good at keeping secrets.”
When your lips meet his once again, he kisses back, and he nearly moans in relief. He clutches your face like you’re his last resort in surviving, the tips of his fingers grazing your scalp as he tries to deepen the kiss until you’re both breathless. He wants you— no, needs you to get him drunk on your lips, so drunk until he doesn’t even realize he’s already laying you down on his bed, doesn’t even recall when both of your clothes are thrown off and are now lying somewhere on the cold floor.
When he feels your warm walls wrap around his poor aching length, he prays that the Lord may forgive him for using his name in vain, but with all the fucked up shit that he’s done, he figures that shouldn’t even be a concern anymore. Not when he has his hand wrapped around your throat, tight enough to leave indents of his fingers and rings on your skin, as he further coaxes you into your orgasm, until he has you trembling beneath him as your walls flutter around his cock. He finds himself basking in the sin of pride as he watches you writhe from the overstimulation as he continues to fuck you, wondering if your husband ever fucked you this good or if he’s the only one who’s managed to make you scream into the night as your poor cunt creams all over his stupidly fat dick.
“Pretty little dove, so good for me. All for me, yeah?”
Would he be selfish if he chooses to unload inside your womb? Would he be selfish if he chooses to fuck his cum back inside you all over again, leave you stuffed enough until your pussy can no longer hold his cum in anymore?
When he hears you weakly cry out, “More, Chris. Oh God, give me more,” he figures that he’d rather face the day of judgment than to stop now.
So when your husband comes forward to break good news to him a few months later, with you in tow wearing your Sunday’s best and with an even more prominent baby bump, he tells him you're both expecting.
He only hopes your husband misses the knowing look the two of you shared.
TAG LIST:@leyknowsbin, @goblinracha, @ch4nb4ng, @iadorethemskz, @abcdefgiwsmcty, @operation-steal-chans-laptop, @biribarabiribbaem, @chrisbahng, @mixtape-racha
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pairing: bada lee x fem!reader
genre: slight angst but with a happy ending maybe?
word count: 1.59k
warnings: cursing. not proofread.
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echoes of voices inside the enclosed space can be heard right before she had left the room, and as the door closed, bada sighed before making her way to the locker rooms. it was yet another day with her calendar is filled with classes that takes up most of her hours in a day. she was never workaholic to begin with but she felt the urge to push herself into the brink of exhaustions for various reasons. even her colleagues in the industry has been worried about her current state but what does bada reply everytime one raises their concern over her situation?
"i am okay."
"i'll be fine."
and she would just shrug it off.
the female takes a quick sip from her tumbler as she makes her way to her next class but the staff stopped her and told her that most of her classes after that postponed and requested to move the dates. confused, she asked why and how did she not know this. The staff shrugged and handed her the outline of the new schedules. she sighs, already knew whose idea it is.
a few minutes later, she is in front of howl's desk, who looks at her with an amused expression on his face.
"you need to take a breather." that's what the male had told her, and bada answered with an eyebrow raised. "just because we're good friends doesn't mean i allow you to reschedule all my hard-earned classes without my fucking consent."
the male just chuckled and propped his elbows atop his desk. "what more do you want to prove? you're the most sought-after choreographer in the region. you have proven your worth, now you need to rest before you get burnt out. everyone knows it, EVERYONE."
"what do you mean?"
"you know what i meant."
the oreo-haired girl knew what he meant but she chose to ignore it and just sighed, dismissing the idea. "it's not even about her. i am doing this for myself."
"is it really?"
-
it took a good thirty minutes of exchanging reasons, bickering and such until bada finally submits to the male. and there she was, walking by the sidewalk, on her way to her flat. beneath the overcast night of the city, dim neon lights buzzed softly, their glow almost reflected the snow-covered streets. the city was bustling as it normally did despite the recent snowfall
cars honking, laughter coming from the hidden paths, and the occasional sound of a street musician strumming mellow tunes. never thought that bada would miss the scent of the city as she was stuck inside the enclosed dance studios she comes in. but now, bada was among the commotion, walking in silence, her steps being steady while her heart is in turmoil. it never did until that discussion with howl.
since she was a little girl, bada had loved all aspects of the big city but her favorite spot was that cafe, which happened to be in between the bookshop and the antique shop. aside from the dance studio, the certain cafe mentioned is where she finds solace. she spent her first hard earned money for a slice of cheesecake there, and everytime something good happens to her, the cafe is her go-to spot.
it was the same cafe where she met you on a similar snowy night four years ago. you rushed inside to shelter from the heavy downpour, and it so happened that bada is there, slender fingers wrapped around a warm cup of coffee she is enjoying, looked up as you burst inside covered in snow, shivering and panting. there are no vacant seats inside the cafe except bada's table, to which you went and claimed immediately.
just as you finally settled in, breathing calmed down, you apologized that you sat down without her consent, bada shrugged it off and told you not to apologize given the situation you're in, but instead offered her warm cup of coffee. much to your embarrassment, you refused to get her cup but bada insisted. it was then their friendship bloomed. at a certain day or time, they coincidentally meet. gradually, the more they talked, laughed together, and the more they filled the silence with their presences, they had created memories in that one corner, so much so that their connection had deepened like layers of a well-produced song.
it's an understatement that as their connection deepens, feelings began to grow.
but as life often does, they went their separate ways. you were given the opportunity to explore more of your craft. bada knew that you wanted to be a musician, and she was fully supportive with it. bada was left behind, of course, but the two promised to keep in contact. for the first few months, she had become a distant observer to your journey. you two had had pledged to keep in touch, yet as time goes by, and the messages they sent to each other became fewer and far between.
replies became colder, as to which the two didn't know why. but they went on their own lives. you became a well-known singer-songwriter while bada became a sought-after dancer and choreographer. while on the said industry you two have the chance to meet or cross paths, but you did well in avoiding each other.
-
tonight, the café was conducting an open mic session, a thing bada had not attended since you left. Hher unplanned intention was to come—it was easier to cling to memories than to confront their absence—however, there was this unique feeling in the air tonight. nostalgia successfully lured her to come close, thus she found herself sitting at the familiar table, with the aroma of coffee making her mind rest somehow. the oreo haired girl's fingers idly played with the brim of her cup, the same fidgeting movement she used to do every time she waited for you to arrive. it's different this time, knowing the opposite seat will remain vacant.
the evening passed by in a stream of voices and tunes. some of the performers were in their natural and unprocessed state, and others sang with a self-assurance that uplifted the gymnastics space. bada clapped gently, yet she is feeling upset inside. staying inside only worsened the bubbling thoughts inside her head, so she briefly stands up and was ready to leave. it was then the host appeared behind the backstage, approaching the microphone with a deep smile.
"ladies and gentlemen, we are pleased to announced that our special guest is here. please welcome, our very own… y/n jang!"
The place erupted with cheers, bada stopped from where she stood. her breath hitched and unconsciously clutched on her chest. before she can process everything, you entered the mini stage, waving at the cafe goers with the familiar sincere smile. you seemed more or less the same, but at the same time, different.
grown up, but still possesses that fire bada had recognized.
as you looked around, greeting the people who have come to see her, your eyes found bada's and your smile waned briefly. you cleared your throat and tightened the grip around the microphone. you moved it after, while you try to keep your cool, you leaned forward and spoke, voice calm and soft.
"i wrote this song with this someone in mind, this someone who had reminded me that even when days had gone by, some things stay with you.
the backtrack played, bada felt the first notes of the song which sent a shiver running down her spine. almost, as if by coincidence, the song felt like a memory. the lyrics uttered out from your lips felt like a reflection of love that refused to die, of tears and joy, and a love that continued to live throughout the seasons.
she noticed your vulnerability through your voice, every word uttered is accompanied by some sort of intense and unshown sentiment.
it felt like it was a song dedicated for her. bada didn't want to assume, but it felt like it.
the song kept going until her time on the stage ends and she received applause, commending her heartfelt performance.
the crowd slowly scattered away, leaving them standing face-to-face. for a moment, neither of them spoke, the weight of years and unsaid words hangs in between them.
“Hi”, bada said, finally shattering the comfortable silence between them. your lips began to tremble, the emotions swelled inside you and before you can even reply, tears began to flow down your cheeks.
"the famous y/n jang is still a crybaby?"
she joked, which got out a chuckle from you.
-
the two settled on their familiar table, enjoying a cup of coffee. as they filled up with what they had missed on their lives. the hardships, the successes. it suddenly felt like it returned to their blissful days that had passed. there was silence still, but they tried patching it up slowly.
"i'm sorry, bada."
"for what?"
"for ending things like that. i should've done something to keep ourselves connected."
bada lowered her head. "it's okay, really. we have focused on our dreams and goals. don't blame yourself. i am at fault, too, you know.."
“I… missed this,” you said in a soft manner. "i miss you, bada."
and she missed you too, bada missed you too. she felt hope, suddenly believed that both can still retrieved what was lost between, and whatever they paused can be continued. along with the cup of coffee that thawed the cold lining between them.
