words・4.7k /pairings・Chanbin x Male reader / genres・fluff, angst / warnings・ mdi, smut.
João Mineiro & Marciano · Os Melhores Momentos · Song · 2006
The van rumbled along the dirt road, kicking up dust that glowed like powdered gold in the late afternoon sun. Changbin leaned his head against the window, watching the sprawling urban chaos of São Paulo fade into a tapestry of emerald hills and cobalt sky. Three hours into the countryside, the world had softened—no more honking cars or flashing cameras, just the rhythmic sway of coffee plants and banana trees bowing in the breeze. When the van finally halted, he stepped out, his stiff muscles protesting, and inhaled deeply. The air here was different—thick with the earthy sweetness of soil after rain, mingling with woodsmoke from a distant farmhouse chimney.
A chorus of cattle bells clanked lazily in the valley below, answered by the whisper of wind combing through acres of cornfields. The farm sprawled before him like a postcard: terracotta-roofed barns, sun-bleached fences, and a riot of pink bougainvillea spilling over a stone well. At the gate stood Ana, the farm’s matriarch, her figure sturdy and reassuring as the ancient mango tree shading the courtyard. Her silver hair was braided into a crown, framing a face etched with laugh lines that deepened as she offered him a chipped clay mug of *cafézinho*. The coffee was scalding, bitter, and perfect, its steam curling into the crisp air.
“*Bem-vindo à Fazenda Esperança,*” she said, her voice a raspy melody. “Hope Farm. Where tired souls find rest… and hungry ones feast.” Her eyes twinkled as she nodded toward the farmhouse, where the scent of garlic and wood-fired bread wafted through an open window. “My grandson’s been cooking since dawn. *Vamos*—you’ll need your strength to keep up with him.”
Changbin hesitated, the weight of his exhaustion suddenly sharp against the quiet hum of the farm. But Ana’s hand, calloused and warm, patted his shoulder, and he felt something unclench in his chest. In the distance, a rooster crowed, and for the first time in months, he laughed—not for cameras or crowds, but because the air tasted like freedom, and the horizon stretched endless, and here, in this forgotten corner of Minas Gerais, he could finally breathe.
The screen door creaked open, its hinges singing a familiar tune, and there you stood—Ana’s grandson, backlit by the honeyed glow of the farmhouse kitchen. Your rolled-up sleeves revealed sun-kissed forearms dusted with flour, and your apron, splattered with remnants of crimson *goiabada* jam, hung loosely over faded jeans. At 22, you carried the quiet confidence of someone who’d spent years kneading dough at dawn and chasing stray calves through the mist. The scent of wood-fired bread trailed behind you, warm and yeasty, as you tilted your head toward Changbin.
“Hungry?” you asked, your English softened by the lilting cadence of a *mineiro* accent. Behind you, a cast-iron skillet sizzled with garlic and *linguiça*, its smoky aroma weaving through the air. Changbin’s gaze flickered from your flour-streaked hands to the mischief in your eyes—a look Ana often called *arteirinho*, “little rascal.” His English was hesitant, but your grin needed no translation.
He followed you inside, boots scuffing against the worn wooden floorboards. The kitchen hummed with life: jars of *pimenta dedo-de-moça* peppers lined the windowsill, and a battered radio crackled with *sertanejo* music. You tossed him a striped dish towel. “First rule of Minas,” you said, nodding to the dough resting on the table, “we work before we eat.”
Changbin hesitated, eyeing the sticky mound of *pão de queijo* dough. “I’m better at eating than… this,” he admitted, flexing his producer’s hands—calloused from studio work, not farm labor. You laughed, a rich, unfiltered sound that startled the tabby cat napping by the hearth. “Relax, *guloso*,” you teased, using the Portuguese term for “greedy eater.” “Even city boys can learn.”
Together, you shaped the dough into rough balls, your fingers brushing occasionally as you demonstrated the flick-of-the-wrist technique perfected by generations of *mineiras*. “These aren’t just snacks,” you explained, dusting tapioca flour over the tray. “They’re stories. My *vó* Ana used to trade them for medicine during droughts.” Changbin’s brow furrowed as he concentrated, tongue peeking between his teeth, and you bit back a smile. His first attempt looked more like a squashed tomato than a bread roll.
“Perfect,” you declared, clapping him on the shoulder. “Now they’ve got soul.”
When the golden *pães* emerged from the oven, Changbin bit into one and groaned, eyes slipping shut. “Dawn,” he blurted, then flushed at his own swearing. You barked a laugh, tossing a crumpled napkin at him. “Careful, *idol*,” you smirked. “Next, I’ll teach you to swear properly in Portuguese.”
The first rays of sun spilled over the horizon, gilding the dew-kissed fields as you dragged Changbin from his guesthouse cot. “Sunrise is the best teacher,” you insisted, ignoring his groggy protests. The kitchen still smelled of last night’s wood fire, embers glowing faintly in the hearth. You tossed him an apron stained with decades of splattered batter and handed him a bowl of tapioca flour, its texture like silk beneath his city-soft fingers.
“*Olha,*” you murmured, guiding his hands into the dough—a sticky, elastic mass of cheese, eggs, and memories. Your grandmother’s *tigela de madeira*, its grooves worn smooth from generations of kneading, held the mixture like a sacred relic. “When the mines dried up, *mineiros* survived on this,” you said, shaping a lump into a sphere with fluid, almost reverent motions. “No gold in the hills? No problem. We had *queijo*.”
Changbin’s brow furrowed as he wrestled the dough, his version bulging unevenly. “Looks like a *ddakji*,” he grimaced, referencing the Korean paper disks he’d played with as a boy. You snorted, flicking flour at him. “Better,” you said. “Yours has *saudade*.” He blinked, unfamiliar with the Portuguese word for longing, but the way your thumb smoothed a crack in his dough told him enough.
As the bread baked, you shared stories of the *fazenda*’s past—the drought years when Ana traded *pão de queijo* for seeds, the winters when neighbors gathered around this very hearth, their laughter mingling with the scent of caramelizing cheese. Changbin listened, elbow-deep in flour, his watch abandoned on the windowsill. Time here didn’t click forward in minutes; it rose and fell like dough.
When the first batch emerged, golden and blistered, you split one open. Steam curled into the dawn light, revealing a molten core of *queijo Minas*. Changbin bit into it and froze, eyes widening. “*Hyung*,” he breathed, instinctively reaching for the Korean honorific as if flavor transcended language. You grinned, licking cheese from your thumb. “See? Imperfect dough, perfect taste.”
He reached for another, but you swatted his hand. “Ah-ah! *Primeiro o trabalho, depois o prazer.* First work, then pleasure.” You nudged a second bowl toward him, your pinky brushing his wrist. “Now, make one for my *vó*. And don’t embarrass me.”
The rooster hadn’t even crowed when you shook Changbin awake, moonlight still clinging to the edges of the sky. “You’ll thank me later,” you whispered, tossing him a borrowed flannel shirt still warm from the hearth. He stumbled after you, half-asleep, to the barn where your *mangalarga marchador* horse, Junco, stood saddled and stamping impatiently. The gelding’s coat gleamed like polished mahogany in the predawn gloom, breath curling in silver plumes.
“You’re joking,” Changbin croaked, eyeing the horse’s height. You swung onto the saddle with practiced ease and reached down, palm upturned. “Trust me?” The challenge in your grin was brighter than the fading stars. He hesitated, then took your hand—calluses against calluses—and let you haul him up behind you. Junco snorted, adjusting to the weight, and you clicked your tongue. “*Vai, boy.* Show off a little.”
The horse surged forward, and Changbin’s arms instinctively locked around your waist, his chest pressing against your back. You were smaller than he’d realized—the crown of your head barely reaching his chin—but steady as a sapling in the wind. The rhythm of Junco’s gait blurred into the cadence of your laughter as you guided him past coffee fields and through stands of buriti palms, their fronds whispering secrets. Changbin’s grip tightened when you urged Junco into a trot, your hair whipping back to brush his cheek, smelling of smoke and cinnamon.
“Relax,” you called over your shoulder, voice warm with mischief. “You’ll strangle me before we reach the river.”
He loosened his arms—just slightly—but didn’t let go.
--
When Junco finally halted, the sun had risen, filtering through the trees in honeyed shafts. Before you sprawled a river so clear it mirrored the sky, its surface dappled with leaves floating like tiny emerald boats. A waterfall cascaded from mossy rocks, its song a liquid hymn that drowned out the world beyond.
“My secret” you said softly, sliding off the horse. When Changbin didn’t move, you glanced back to find him wide-eyed, lips parted. Taking in the dragonflies skimming the water, the toucans yodeling from kapok trees.
You shrugged, tying Junco to a branch. “When the farm feels too loud.” Kneeling, you scooped water into your hands and drank. “Try it. Better than any idol’s bottled stuff.”
Changbin crouched beside you, sleeves rolled to his elbows. The water was colder than he expected, jolting him fully awake. He splashed his face, droplets catching sunlight as they fell, and gasped. “It’s like… swallowing light.”
You smirked, flicking a droplet at him. “Poetic for a guy who called *pão de queijo* ‘cheese rocks’ yesterday.”
He retaliated with a splash, and soon the riverbank echoed with shouts and laughter, Junco snorting in disapproval. Eventually, you both collapsed on the bank, clothes damp and hair wild. Changbin lay back, staring at the canopy where sunlight and shadow waltzed. “Back home,” he murmured, “I forget to look up.”
You plucked a *fruta-do-conde* from a nearby tree, splitting it open to reveal creamy flesh. “Eat,” you ordered, passing him a slice. “Then we’ll swim.”
“Swim?!” He sat bolt upright. “There’s no— I didn’t bring—”
You tugged your shirt over your head, then your jeans, leaving only sun-bleached briefs. “Coming in?”
Changbin froze. Water sluiced down your shoulders as you waded in, oblivious to the way his throat bobbed. He’d spent years rehearsing restraint—smiling at fans, dodging rumors, locking desires in a box labeled *Later*. But here, with no cameras or managers, the box rattled open.
You dove under the waterfall, emerging with a shout. “*Água fria para alma quente!* Cold water for a hot soul!”
*Screw it*, he thought.
He stripped to his boxers, the air biting his skin, and plunged in. The shock of cold punched a laugh from his lungs. You floated on your back, eyes closed, and he watched the sunlight gild your collarbone, the water tracing the dip of your waist. *Liberdade* grazed nearby, her tail flicking at dragonflies.
“Why’d you bring me here?” he asked, voice low.
You turned, droplets clinging to your lashes. “Same reason *vó* taught me to make *pão de queijo*,” you said. “Some things…” You swam closer, until your knees brushed his under the water. “…are better shared.”
His pulse roared in his ears. He could count your freckles now, the scar on your chin from a childhood fall. The world narrowed to the space between your lips—chapped from sun, parted slightly—and the way your fingers skimmed the surface, ripples echoing the tremor in his chest.
A kingfisher screeched overhead. You blinked, breaking the spell, and splashed him. “Race you to the falls!”
He chased you, the water laughing with him, and tried to forget how your breath had hitched too.
The farmhouse patio clung to the day’s last warmth, its terracotta tiles still humming with sunlight as dusk draped the sky in indigo. You sat cross-legged on a frayed *tapete de palha*, a mountain of *pimenta cambuci* peppers glowing like embers in the copper basin between you. Changbin hovered awkwardly, holding a jar of vinegar like it might detonate. “This is… safer than horses, right?”
You smirked, tossing him a knife. “*Corte assim,*” you instructed, slicing a pepper into a starburst. “So the brine kisses the seeds.” He mimicked your motion, tongue peeking in concentration, and you bit your cheek to keep from laughing. His first attempt looked less like a star and more like a deflated soccer ball.
“*É horrível,*” he groaned, but you plucked it from his hands. “No,” you said, holding it up to the rising moon. “It’s *autêntico*. Like your…” You gestured vaguely at his face. “…*essa coisa de idol*. Perfection’s boring.”
He blinked, then chuckled—a low, unfiltered sound that warmed the cooling air. “You’d hate Seoul.”
“*Talvez,*” you shrugged. “But I’d love the street food. Teach me a Korean word, and I’ll trade you a pepper.”
The stars blinked awake as he pondered, the Milky Way smeared above like spilled *leite condensado*. “*Hyodo*,” he said finally, scoring a pepper with surprising grace. “It means… caring for your parents. Doing your duty.”
You repeated it, the syllables clumsy but earnest. “*Hyodo.*” The word settled between you, weighted and tender. “Now try *saudade*,” you said, nudging his knee with yours.
“Sow-dah-jee?”
“Close enough.” You sprinkled salt over the peppers, watching him from the corner of your eye. “It’s the ache of missing someone. Even when they’re right here.”
He stilled, knife hovering. A *sabiá* bird sang from the mango tree, its melody threading through the silence.
“Another word,” you demanded, softer now.
“*Jeong.*” He didn’t look up. “It’s… the bond that grows slowly. Like roots.”
The peppers forgotten, you leaned back on your palms. “*Jeong,*” you echoed, testing its texture. “Does it have a… taste?”
He met your gaze, the patio’s fairy lights gilding his cheekbones. “Like this.” He popped a raw pepper slice into your mouth. Fire bloomed on your tongue, and you gasped, swatting his arm as he grinned. “*Jerk.*”
“*Jeong,*” he corrected, laughing, and you threw a chili stem at him.
But later, when the jars were sealed and the farm slept, you found yourselves sprawled on the same *tapete*, shoulders brushing as you mapped constellations. “That’s *Cruzeiro do Sul*,” you said, tracing the Southern Cross. “Guides lost travelers home.”
Changbin’s pinky grazed yours. “We have a star like that too. *Chilsungbyeong*—the Seven Stars Spoon.” His hand lifted, drawing lines you couldn’t see. “They say it’s a ladle scooping up memories.”
“Which one’s yours?” you asked.
He pointed to the brightest flicker in his imagined spoon. “That one. It’s… a memory I’m not ready to drop yet.”
You didn’t press. Instead, you taught him the *mineiro* names for stars—*Estrela d’Alva* for Venus, *Três Marias* for Orion’s Belt—and he whispered Korean folktales of lovers torn into constellations. The night deepened, the peppers’ sharp tang mellowing into the earthy scent of dew-damp soil.
When his voice grew husky with exhaustion, you handed him a jar of pickled *cambuci*. “For Seoul,” you said. “So you don’t forget.”
He cradled it like something fragile. “*Gamsahamnida,*” he murmured. *Thank you.* Not *hyodo* or *jeong*—but the gratitude lingered, thicker than the heat of peppers.
--
The roosters were still asleep when the scent of toasted sesame oil and caramelized garlic curled into your bedroom. You padded barefoot to the kitchen, where Changbin stood bathed in dawn’s peach-gold light, his apron tied haphazardly over a faded *Flamengo* soccer jersey he’d borrowed from your closet. The counter was a mosaic of Ana’s clandestine generosity: fresh *goiabas*, a jar of *doce de leite*, and a handwritten note propped against the *cafezinho* pot: *“Para os jovens. Não estraguem minha cozinha.”* *“For the youngsters. Don’t ruin my kitchen.”*
“Surprise,” Changbin said, flipping a *kimchi-jeon* pancake with a spatula. The sizzle of batter hitting the pan harmonized with the *sanfona* music drifting from Ana’s antique radio. “Your *vó* may have… hinted I should cook for you.”
You leaned against the doorway, arms crossed. “Hinted? She gave you the keys to her *dispensa* and fled to the neighbor’s *fazenda*. That’s a conspiracy.”
He shrugged, a smirk playing on his lips. “Maybe she thinks I’ll kidnap you to Seoul.”
“With *kimchi* pancakes?” You sidled up to him, peering into the pan. The crispy edges glistened with chili oil, and beside it, a pot of *juk* (rice porridge) bubbled gently, studded with *couve* (kale) from Ana’s garden—an unlikely, perfect fusion.
“Sit,” he ordered, nodding to the table already set with Ana’s chipped blue porcelain. “And try this.” He lifted a spoonful of porridge, blowing on it before offering it to you. Your lips closed around the spoon, and his gaze flickered to your mouth. “Good?”
The porridge was warm, savory, faintly sweet from caramelized onions. “*Perigoso*,” you mumbled. *Dangerous.*
He raised an eyebrow.
“If you keep cooking like this, I’ll have to kidnap *you*.”
The corner of his mouth twitched. “Noted.”
Breakfast unfolded in a dance of clinking dishes and shared chopsticks. He taught you to wrap *jeon* in *alface* leaves, your fingers brushing as you reached for the same lettuce slice. “*Yah*,” he scolded, swatting your hand playfully. “Respect your *sunbae*.”
“*Sunbae*?” You stole the leaf anyway. “You’re in *my* kitchen, *idol*.”
The nickname made him flush, and you filed that reaction away for later.
By midmorning, the dishes were washed, and sunlight pooled honey-thick across the floor. Changbin lingered at the sink, drying a bowl with unnecessary focus. “Your *vó*… she left something else.” He nodded to the pantry.
Inside, a bottle of *cachaça* sat beside two tiny clay cups, a red ribbon tied around its neck. *“Para a coragem,”* Ana’s note read. *“For courage.”*
You snorted. “She’s worse than the church ladies at *Festas Juninas*.”
Changbin picked up the bottle, thumbing the ribbon. “In Korea, we have *soju* for courage.” He paused, voice softening. “And… *confessions*.”
The air grew heavy, sweet as overripe *manga*. You took the bottle, your fingers overlapping his. “We don’t need it.”
His breath hitched when you stepped closer, the *cachaça* forgotten on the table. The kitchen smelled of lingering garlic and his citrus cologne, and you wondered if he could hear your heartbeat over the *sanfona*’s wistful tune.
“*Jeong*,” he whispered, the word a plea and a promise.
This time, when your lips met, there was no river to interrupt, no peppers to blame for the fire. Just the quiet creak of the farmhouse floorboards, the distant lowing of cattle, and Ana’s radio cheering you on with a lively *forró* beat.
The soft morning light lit bedroom becomes your sanctuary as clothes fall away between passionate kisses. Changbin's muscular body presses against yours, skin on skin creating electric sensations. Your Brazilian passion ignites as you guide him to the bed.
"Let me take care of you," you whisper, pushing him onto his back. Your lips trail down his defined chest and abs while your hands explore every inch of his body. When you reach his hard cock, you take him into your mouth, making him moan deeply.
His fingers thread through your hair as you worship him with your tongue, taking him deeper. The isolation of the farm means neither of you need to hold back your sounds of pleasure.
"Want you," he pants, pulling you up for a deep kiss. His hands move to prep your tight hole, working you open slowly and carefully.
Changbin's fingers work you open expertly as you writhe beneath him. His thick digits stretch your tight hole while his lips mark your neck. When he crooks his fingers just right, you arch off the bed with a loud moan.
"Ready for my cock?" he asks roughly, withdrawing his fingers. You nod desperately as he slicks himself up with lube.
The initial push has you both groaning - the stretch and fullness overwhelming as he sinks deep inside you. His muscular body covers yours as he starts a slow rhythm, making love to you thoroughly.
"You feel amazing," he pants against your lips, gradually picking up the pace. Each thrust hits your prostate perfectly, making pleasure build low in your belly.
Changbin's thrusts grow more desperate as pleasure builds between you. His cock fills you perfectly, hitting your prostate with each deep stroke while his hand wraps around your leaking shaft.
"Gonna cum," you moan, clawing at his back as the pressure builds. The feeling of his thick cock stretching your tight hole has you right on the edge.
"Cum for me *amor*" he pants, stroking you faster. When his teeth graze your neck, you lose control - cumming hard between your bodies as your hole clenches around him.
Your orgasm triggers his, making him slam deep one final time as he fills you with his hot load.
Changbin holds you close as you both catch your breath, his cum leaking from your well-used hole. His fingers trace gentle patterns on your skin as the afterglow washes over you both.
"That was incredible," he murmurs, pressing soft kisses to your shoulder. The morning light catches the sheen of sweat on his muscular body as he shifts to look at you.
Your hand finds his face, pulling him in for a tender kiss. The passion may have cooled but the intimacy remains, two souls connecting in the quiet farmhouse.
"Round two?" you suggest with a playful grin, grinding back against his slowly hardening cock.
----
The afternoon sun hung low, gilding the rows of coffee plants in liquid gold. You sat cross-legged on Ana’s checkered picnic blanket, a thermos of *cafézinho* between you and Changbin’s head resting in your lap. His lips still tasted of stolen kisses and the *goiabada* pastry you’d shared, sticky-sweet and fleeting. Your fingers carded through his hair as he traced idle patterns on your knee—a map of nowhere, everywhere.
Then his phone buzzed.
It lay facedown in the grass, a sleek black intruder in this sun-dappled world. Changbin stiffened, the peaceful curve of his mouth flattening into a line. You felt it before he spoke: the shift in the air, the way his breath hitched as he read the caller ID. “I have to… it’s my manager,” he muttered, sitting up too quickly.
You nodded, pretending to study a coffee cherry’s blush while he stood and walked toward the grove. His Korean was sharp, clipped, a language that suddenly felt alien amidst the *sabiá* birdsong. You caught only fragments: *“…flight tonight…” “…schedule in Tokyo…” “…yes, hyung, I understand.”*
When he returned, the farm seemed quieter, as if the earth itself held its breath. He knelt in front of you, grass staining his jeans, and cradled your hands. “I have to leave. In two hours.”
The thermos tipped over, coffee seeping into the soil like a secret. “Oh.” You’d known this was borrowed time, but the word *two hours* clawed at your ribs. “Ana will… she’ll want to pack you more *pão de queijo*.”
“Don’t,” he whispered. “Don’t do that thing where you make it easier.”
You laughed, though it cracked like over-roasted beans. “*Mineiros* are good at goodbyes. We’ve had centuries of practice.”
He pressed his forehead to yours, his exhale trembling. “Come with me.”
You stilled. “To Seoul?”
“To the airport. Just—stay until I’m through security. Or… or *gate* B12. Or—”
“Changbin.” You cupped his face, thumbs brushing the shadows under his eyes. “You don’t have to bargain with me.”
The drive to Belo Horizonte was a blur of winding roads and silence. He held your hand the entire way, his grip tightening each time the city’s skyline loomed closer. At departures, Ana shoved a cloth bundle into his arms—*pão de queijo*, a jar of *doce de leite*, and the *cachaça* bottle, now half-empty from last night’s courage. “For the soul,” she said, pinching his cheek. “And the homesickness.”
When the final call echoed through the terminal, he pulled you into a corner behind a potted palm. His lips found yours, desperate and salt-tingged—he’d been crying, you realized. “I’ll come back,” he vowed, voice raw. “Or you’ll come to Seoul. Or—”
“Shh.” You tucked a folded paper into his jacket pocket. The *pão de queijo* recipe, stained with coffee and your grandmother’s annotations. “For when your hands miss the work.”
He kissed you again, deeper this time, until a security guard coughed pointedly. You watched him walk away, shoulders squared like he was marching into battle, until the crowd swallowed him whole.
Ana found you staring at the departures board, Seoul’s flight number blinking tauntingly. “*Menino coração valente,*” she sighed, looping her arm through yours. *Brave-hearted boy.* “Come. We’ll plant new coffee seedlings tomorrow.”
You nodded, but that night, alone in your room, you opened your bedside drawer. Inside lay a single *cambuci* pepper, dried and preserved, and a post-it note in messy Hangul: *“내일도 같이 먹을래?”* *Will you eat with me tomorrow too?*
You pressed it to your chest and let the *saudade* take root.
--
One month later.
The package arrived wrapped in brown paper, its corners softened by the journey across oceans. Ana carried it to the porch where you sat shelling *feijão*, her eyes twinkling. “*Alguma coisa cheirando a amor,*” she teased. *Something smells like love.*
Inside, nestled in crumpled *jornal* pages from Seoul, lay three treasures:
1. A Vinyl Record: The sleeve, hand-painted with *flamboyant* flowers and Korean *norigae* tassels, held a single track—*“Nosso forró”* by a band neither of you knew. Scrawled on the label: *“Play at sunset. I’ll be listening too.”*
2. A Han River Pebble: Smooth and slate-gray, tucked into a *cachaça* cork for safekeeping. When you shook it, a slip of paper fluttered out—*“Found this mid-river. Thought it could use a farm adventure. (Don’t lose it—I’m sentimental now.)”*
3. The Photo: Changbin in a stainless-steel kitchen, apron askew, holding a tray of *pão de queijo* so misshapen they bordered on abstract art. His grin outshone the studio lights behind him.
You turned it over. His handwriting, once clumsy in Portuguese, now flowed with practiced care:
“Saudade is growing. Slowly. Wait for me.”
Ana hummed the *forró* melody already spinning in your head. “*Menino esperto,*” she murmured, thumbing the pebble. *Clever boy.* “He knows *mineiros* are stubborn. We’ll wait a hundred years.”
That night, you placed the record on Ana’s antique player. As the accordion wept and Changbin’s laughter echoed through the kitchen photo, you pressed the pebble to your palm and wondered if the Han River missed its stone—or if rivers, like hearts, learn to hold emptiness as part of their flow.
"It's about to happen," you say, your eyes turned to the curve of the sun in the sky.
"Hold on, there are ants-" You can hear shuffling on the blanket next to you; a squeak of indignation that is far too high-pitched for him to be proud of, and then the snap of a plastic lid. "Ah, get out, stop it-"
Reluctantly, you glance down, watching as he slaps away several ants from the edge of the blanket. "They're just little ones," you say with a grin that exposes the laugh you're holding back between your teeth. "Look at the sun, or you're going to miss it."
You pick his glasses up off the blanket next to you, holding them out for him to take and watching with disbelief as he turns them over and puts them on upside down. "I feel fashionable," he says as he looks at you, his head cocked to the side like he knows exactly how funny he's being. "Do you think I should wear these all the time?"
You snort, reaching out to take them off his face again. He leans in so that you can reach easier, lips pressed together in a satirical impression of a model on a catwalk. "This whole thing is going to happen exactly once, and you're going to miss it because you're goofing around with the glasses." You flip the offending item over in your hands and place them back on his face, tucking his hair gently behind his ears with the frame of the glasses.
"I'm looking," he insists, and turns towards the sky as if to prove his point, eyes fixed directly on the sun as if that is his only focal point. His hand betrays him only a few seconds later, reaching past the space between you to lace your fingers together and squeezing gently.
You hide your smile, and the myriad of comments you could make just to goad him into flirting with you again, and look up at the sky, the brilliant blue that is slowly fading into the purple and grey of twilight, the sun that curls in on itself to make way for the dark circle of the moon as it seeks to dominate the heavens. With every minute that passes, the world grows quieter, the air stilling and a darkness that isn't night nor dusk nor day settling over the land.
"This is really weird, isn't it?" Changbin asks in a hushed voice, leaning closer to you as if he's afraid to break the eerie silence that has fallen.
You watch as the shadow slides across the sun, its halo forming in the rays that expand from its edges. "It's beautiful."
"You're beautiful." The words sound like they blurt right out of his mouth unbidden, cutting you off so abruptly that you feel like your heart misses a beat. Or maybe that is just the butterflies in your stomach, or the shiver that runs down your spine at the squeeze of his hand in yours. You glance over to find him staring at you with a look you're too scared to describe as adoration or yearning - whatever it is, it is only for you, as if the rest of the world has melted away from his field of view.
"You're missing it," you tell him, pointing at the sky, and behind the goofy glasses, his eyes crinkle.
"I've seen everything I came here to see," he says. Not once does he look up at the sky.
You can feel the blush that spreads across your cheeks. You know he sees it too, by the sly grin that spreads across his face. "Cute," you say, as if your voice doesn't waver at the end, as if you can look away any more than he can. "But it's a once in a lifetime kind of thing, you know, you should really-"
"Can I kiss you?" he says over the top of whatever sensible nonsense you're babbling. "I'd rather kiss you."
The invitation is so bold that you stutter in the middle of your speech, the end of your sentence dropping off abruptly. His mouth curves in a wild grin - you lean in without even thinking about it, determined to wipe that smug smirk off his face - you could kiss him at any time, and he thinks right at this moment, when your attention should be busy elsewhere, is the perfect time to-
The sky goes dark as his lips press against yours, his hands sliding over your skin as he draws you in closer. His mouth is warm, the taste of that stupid candy he'd been eating still clinging to his lips - even when his fingers dig in the skin of your thigh, he is gentle, questioning every move so carefully that it's a wonder he had the courage to ask at all. You don't have time to ponder it though; he kisses you, and the sky goes dark, and time stands still, and-
And this is all there is, for a moment, just him and you and the damp grass and the halo around the moon in the sky. A once in a lifetime kind of thing. The only kind of thing you'll ever need.
Warnings: 18+ explicit minors do not interact. Choking, kissing, arguing, mentiosn of naked body, handjob (m receiving), penetration, orgasm, dirty talk.
Tag list: @seo--changbin @j-0ne25 @cb97whoree
@kpopsstuffs
Note: HEY guys, its been a while. This took me a long time to write i am very much sorry :(((( I hope you enjoy and i hope everyone is doing well. I also appreciate all the support that I have received in my absence as well <3 Inspo is (here) (also psa thats literally visual porn you have been warned!!)
Summary: The case had not progressed, seeing as the two of you chose to spend the time together doing something else. But going back to the bickering enemies you were before may be harder than it seems.
The smirk on Felix’s face was apparent when he saw you walk into the break room, ready for another day of work. At this point in time, it was best for you to ignore his presence, you wanting to at least enjoy one sip of coffee before being berated.. It was also your luck that he was enjoying a light hearted chat (or so you thought) with your rookie, Hyunjin, out of all people, before they both went silent, waiting for you to take up the empty seat at their chair. Your best friend’s mouth was already open before your elbows could even relax on the table.
“Did you do it or not?”
A hand came to your chest as you rapidly placed your cup on the empty table, leaning forward as the liquid barely had time to swallow before choking, hard, the coffee going every pathway except your throat..
“That’s the first thing you ask at your grown up age?”
He shrugged, unbothered by your criticism as he continued looking, waiting for an answer to his ludicrous question. You had two options; lie and tell Felix that it was just a brief consultation, leaving him with no further questions and him continuously being suspicious, or tell him the truth and live a life of never ending embarrassment.
“Just answer Y/n.”
Hyunjin had never received a death glare so terrifying in his life.
“Is that how you talk to your T.O?”
“Stop deflecting,” Felix whined, hitting you on the knee, “did you do it or not?”
“No,” you laughed, the exaggeration of your chuckle making it obvious that you were lying, “it was just a brief consultation and beginning of preparation for the trial seeing as it’s next week.”
“Sure it was,” the rookie smirked, tongue poking the inside of his cheek before you stormed out of the room; being ganged up on wasn’t something that you wanted to deal with right now. Sitting at your desk and recording a stack of torturous paperwork was somehow much better than your best friend and rookie prying into your personal life,, together.
It did not take long for them to follow, forgetting the convenience being that your desks were right next to each other. You decided to ignore them, letting your fingertips type away on the raised keys in front of you. It was only a matter of time before you knew that there would most certainly be a time where you had to face the consequences of your actions. Did you regret it? The logical part of you was saying a little. This had to be some sort of conflict of interest, any kind of vocabulary that could be applied to this situation was being applied. Mixing business and pleasure was probably not the greatest idea. Wanting to take back what happened yesterday evening would be the right thing to do; but being smart was tiring. Letting your brain shut off for a brief moment to enjoy the pleasures of life that was physical gratification from your enemy really wasn’t so bad, right? It was nice for now, mainly because it was all you had roaming around in your mind.
That was, of course, until you saw the wide doors of the precinct open, and saw the pompous lawyer, with his ridiculously priced suit, compromising shirt that showcased way too much, and that stupid briefcase that had the gold plating on the exterior seams. God, it was so fucking annoying. The way you knew that your eyes would immediately dart to his handsome features. His sharp eyebrows, slicked back hair, his lips. Fuck. His lips were something you already noticed prior to your rendezvous, but now it was a whole different story, with a whole new meaning behind it. His walk was elegant, like all of a sudden he changed the way he strutted, still like he owned the place, but for some reason it wasn’t as annoying. You were kidding yourself if you were unaware of why your perception had changed so suddenly. Your eyes quickly darted back to the computer screen. It was better to ignore him at the station. All the officers had spoken before, and you would rather truly die than for it to come out here, from him, or you in the heat of the moment, out of all places. It was also just less of a mindfuck. Not having Changbin in your sight was not going to leave your mind trailing to what might be.
“Y/n quick Changbin is here!”
“Fuck,” you mumbled under your breath, “if he asks tell him I’m not here.”
Your fall to the floor was sudden, hitting the top of your head in the process. The thud could be heard from a mile away, the painful groan following as well. It wasn’t a coincidence that you were under the huddle of your desk, and the name of the pompous lawyer had been mentioned. When you were back on your knees, visible to your coworkers, cussing them out seemed like the perfect option.
“Are you guys fucking serious-”
“Y/n?”
The anxiety in your stomach rose when you heard Changbin’s voice. The pompous lawyer was standing right there, and boy, did he catch you red handed. You were facing him, eyes at length with his own as you looked up at him. That smirk. That used to be the evil fucking smirk that now makes the hairs on your arms raise straight up in stature. The spiral was immense, immediate as soon as your eyes were on him. From the time you left his office last night, to when you drove home, ate your dinner, slept, woke up, and came to work. It was easy to be in denial. Easy to never come to the realization of ‘holy fuck I slept with someone I hate.”
But when the situation, AKA, Changbin, was staring you in the face, the feeling of denial was practically non-existent. All the memories of him flooded back in an instant. A heavy gulp swallowed in your throat, eyes wide as he continued to ponder down at you, and you hated that your mind immediately went to the gutter, mouth watering at the implication of being on your knees in front of this man. You could even see the pompous lawyer clench his jaw for a brief moment, another immediate shift in his demeanor as his eyebrows furrowed in confusion.
“Are you hiding under the table?”
“What? No I,” you huffed, not protecting your head and hitting it, again, one hand holding the base of your head, the other leaning on your desk to help you rise back to your feet. God this was fucking embarrassing, and your two cowokers snickering behind you was not helping the embarrassment at all.
“I just dropped my pen.”
The pompous lawyer crouched down, bending his knees all the way as his eyes scanned the indoor concrete flooring, not a pen in sight. His devil coated smirk covered his face as soon as his knees came back 180 degrees. Fuck your life. That fucking smirk! Before, it was the bain of your existence. The sole reason behind your anger and overall frustration with arrogant lawyers, district attorneys; basically anyone that you had to work with that wasn’t police or innocent civilians. But now, that smirk carried so many connotations. The flashbacks were immediate as you tried so hard to suppress and deny the ideas flooding your brain like a dam wall when there is a rain storm. Your heart rate accelerated, and the temperature of the precinct suddenly felt a little too hot. All you could do was stand there, looking at him wide eyed, knowing exactly what he was going to say.
“I didn’t see any pens there.”
“Hello Changbin,” Felix chimed in, a rather unusual grin when looking at the pompous lawyer, “how’s the trial prep going?”
The smirk on his face dropped immediately. The color drained from his face, the complexion of a ghost-like complexion covering his skin. He was now panicking, bad. There had been no time to get your stories straight. Did Felix know? Did he not? Changbin had way too much pride to tell a stranger, let alone someone he knew was your close friend, to him, about his private life. One that involved colleagues and criminal justice moreso. He also found it strange. Strange that Felix firstly used his name without mumbling it under his breath, and secondly, actually asking a question, inquiring about something that had nothing to do with him. The look of stress was a sigh of relief, knowing that the pompous lawyer completely forgot that he had caught you out.
“Uh good,” he quickly acknowledged, giving Felix his attention for all of 10 seconds, before turning to you again, “I actually came here to talk to you about that.”
“Oh,” you nodded, nothing remotely close to a smile, “can we talk later today? I just have a lot of paperwork that I need to get done by patrol time which is in,” you paused, taking a quick glance at the digital watch on your wrist, “1 hour.”
Changbin let out a nervous laugh.
“You can’t talk now?”
“No,” you huffed, “I just said that. Surely there is another reason you’re at the precinct?”
He shook his head, biting down on his bottom lip. Fuck it really shouldnt turn you on as much as it just did.
“What,” you chuckled, “haven’t got any clients in detention right now?”
“Uh-uh,” he smiled again, “I just came to talk to you quickly and then I have a meeting in the building next door.”
Your heart rate increased rapidly at his words; and that smile. God that fucking smile. It was too nice to look at, his lips making yours turn up in unison, eyes glued to the floor as it was much too intimidating to maintain eye contact with him at this moment. The tension felt thick, and the room suddenly felt like everyone else had disappeared, the two of you only existing in this space. A small giggle erupted from your lips, yet another reminder of what happened that last time only the two of you shared a space. The space solely between the two of you felt like it was getting smaller itself.
“Ah-ahem.”
The sweet little moment was interrupted by the burning craters that were 2 pairs of eyeballs burning the left side of your face. You turned to them, a smile wiped off your face the moment you saw their grins. You tucked your hair behind your eyes, snapping back into reality mode. An immediate spark of anger rushed through your body, for two different reasons. One was that everything you told yourself in the morning, to deny and suppress. Secondly, the fact that you had been caught out, and humiliated in front of the two people that you interacted with the most during work hours. Now it would be even harder to deny.
“Ok so I’ll talk to you later?”
“What time?”
“I should be done patrol at like 3.”
“Okay well I’m busy after 3 so can I just talk to you now?”
“No,” you snapped, frustration increasing from Changbin not listening to you, “I just said that I can’t.”
“It’s going to take 10 minutes. Surely you can spare that?”
“Why? Because my work is not as important as yours?”
“No,” he scoffed, scratching his face out of his own frustration, “because I need to tell you before the end of the day.”
“Okay well I don’t know what you want me to tell you.”
The sound of the precinct was softening, the sounds of other conversations coming to a halt, the only one that could be heard was the two of you with your in character bickering. People were starting to look, but you would not let Changbin get the last word out of you; this was always the case. He said nothing, jaw clenching at your non-compliance.
“Can’t you just tell me now, at this desk?”
“No,” he mumbled, “it’s kind of private.”
“Just say it now I’m sure it’s not that bad.”
“What part of it’s private do you not understand?”
“Changbin if it’s about the case you can say it, everyone knows who he is.”
The pompous lawyer panicked, trying to say anything to keep your attention that he was so desperate for.
“So you,” he sighed, hesitating before he spoke again, “ so you want me to tell everyone that he said you’re a bad cop and he knew from the day he became your T.O?”
The look on your face was unexplainable.You were speechless. An immediate pang, which felt like a gunshot, shot straight to your heart. It should have made you more angry. Fuming that he would say something like that. But really, it just made you sad. It was genuinely hurtful, even though he was a criminal, to hear someone that you were so close to and looked up to speak ill of you. The hundreds of times he had said to your face how proud they were. It was all a lie.Suddenly the air felt thick, making it hard for you to catch your breath, gasp, breathe for air, the walls were closing in, and there was nowhere to escape.
He, Changbin, could read it on your face. He couldn’t quite put a finger on what it was, but he knew that something wasn’t right. It was an emotion he had never seen on your face before. You were speechless, he was also speechless. The guilt hit him like a truck, twisting in his gut like the actions of a murderer with a knife. He stepped forward, a hand coming to your shoulder, but it was too late, your back was turned, and the closest free interrogation room felt like the right place to be as you locked the door behind you. A tear threatened to spill from your duct, finger immediately wiping any possible remnant of clear liquid before it could make a mark as you sat in the chair nearby as thought after thought after thought ruminated in your stress riddled mind.
It wasn’t a surprise to hear a knock on the door. It was a surprise, however, that when your eyes peeked through the small glass window that covered the center of the door, it was the pompous lawyer that had come to your rescue. You quickly ducked down, praying that he didn’t see you.
You shouldn’t be mad at him, but he really was the last person you wanted to see at that moment. It was too late though, the click of the door easily audible and now it was him, in the same room, looking at you, huddled up on the floor. The list of things to be embarrassed about was becoming easier to identify.
“Hey,” he mumbled, the volume of his voice lowering, practically non-existent at the last letter of the greeting. You quickly stood, humiliated that it was not the first time this day he had found you like this. You said nothing, a quick sniffle escaping your nose as you stood to face him.
“Look, Y/n, I-”
“Did he really say that?”
Changbin let out a heavy sigh as he averted your gaze, “I don’t think he meant it.”
Your eyebrows furrowed, genuine confusion expressed over your facial features. You began to pace back and forth, index finger in your mouth as your brain began to rewire itself. Trying to think of every single moment you shared with your T.O. Were there times on the job that he was doing dirty things behind your back? How did he do it? There was no doubt in your mind he was guilty, but the situation never failed to play games with your mind. It was a vicious cycle. Wanting to help him, but remembering he did everything you stood against, questioning why, how, trying to convince yourself he was a good person, and repeat. It was in fact where your mind was right now, and he could see it. It was written all over your face. Although you were ‘special’ as he said, you were not the first person to testify for a client of his that had a reaction like this.
“Why would he say that though? It makes no sense.”
You continued to pace, making him worried very much so. Although he hated your guts, seeing you in this kind of anxiety, it made him feel for you. He stepped forward, attempting to prevent you from pacing back and forth, but it was no use. You were much too deep in thought.
“Y/n.”
Nothing
“Y/n.”
His tone increased in volume the more you ignored him.
“Y/n,” he sighed again, “y/n?”
Fuck he did not enjoy being the lack of being acknowledged in the slightest. The blight on his ego was simply too big.
“That’s it.”
He huffed, pacing over and perfectly timing his attack so that he could nip at your wrists, pushing your body weight backwards and against the door, hands above your head, just like last night. The look in the pompous lawyer's eyes, however, was slightly different. Not close to being as gentle or placid at the last time your proximity was so close. It took your mind out of that toxic loop instantly, the only noise you could make was a gasp. Maybe you blanked. Maybe you just completely dissociated, because you really had no idea how you ended up here, again, pinned against a hard surface, Changbin the one pinning you down. Brows still furrowed, a frustration was rising on your chest. No matter how hard you pushed, he would not budge. He was simply too strong for you. The thought made your heart race. Your chest was heaving up and down, breathing heavily as your body tried to make up for the pacing that was most definitely a workout for some, and you as well apparently.
“What are you doing?”
You tried again, a soft groan of pain escaping your lips as your elbow hit the wooden door.
“Stop trying to escape, and listen.”
“Why should I listen to you?”’
It was now the pompous lawyer’s turn for his facial expressions to change. He was biting down on his bottom lip, jaw clenched as he just waited, simply waiting for you to, for once, not be as stubborn as usual.
“Because I’m trying to help you.”
“How are you helping me,” your tone was angry, the tremble in your voice was small, but it was definitely there, “ever since you’ve made me a part of the case, you’ve done nothing but hurt me. You’re doing it right now.”
His immediate reaction was to let go. The thought, to him, of genuinely hurting you in any way killed him on the inside. Before, it was a minute detail in his day; well, that was how it started for him. Day by day, it became the thing he looked forward to. Sure, his clients were important, but the moment Changbin saw your look of distaste from the moment your eyes met, there was a satisfaction. A gratification. If he went to the precinct and you weren’t there, he got stuck on it. He would never admit this, but arguing with you tends to be the highlight of his day.
Hearing you say such words now; the impact was different this time.
“I’m sorry, I,” he hesitated, knowing you were in a vulnerable state, “I didn’t mean to.”
His voice was quiet, but it didn’t matter to you. The anger that was bubbling at the peak of your chest was making you too blind to see his genuine regret he had in the moment.
“You’re not helping me. You just embarrassed me in front of the precinct, again.”
“I didn’t mean to,” he hissed, starting to get annoyed by your antics, “I wanted to tell you in private, but you insisted on me telling you in the moment.”
The eye roll from you was immense.
“You have got to be fucking kidding me.”
“What,” you asked, unsure why he was reacting the way he did.
“Don’t fucking roll your eyes at me, I’m trying to fucking help you.”
“How have you helped me, huh?”
You took a step closer to him, then another, the pompous lawyer refusing to back down from your attempted intimidation. The two of you knew better than to participate in a subtle, yet strenuous tension in the form of a face off. Before it never led to anything, but with the events of yesterday already adding another layer of tension to the complication of your relationship, things were about to take another turn. Maybe it’s what you wanted. Maybe he too also wanted that. But you could list a bunch of other unsatisfactory tasks you would rather do than admit it. The space between the two of you was closing in an immediate time frame, the silent tension of the room deafened slightly by the footsteps that were your boots. Changbin’s heel on his obnoxiously luxurious dress shoes clicked backwards with each step he took. It was now his turn to be backed into a corner, wide shoulder hitting the back wall, opposite to the door. If anything happened now, anyone would be able to see through the window of the door.
Your care for that was irrelevant as your back faced it, the thought not even coming into your mind.
“Why are you so silent now?”
“Because,” he gritted his teeth, “I did fucking help you.”
An exacerbated laugh fell from your lips, “You talk the talk, but you can never walk the walk Mr. Seo.”
It was his turn to smirk, his left hand dared to snake around your waist, fingertips traveling your midline, stepping at the edge of your neck. His thumb and index finger split ways, the pad of your digit giving your neck a gentle squeeze. Your eyelids fluttered involuntary, hating that your body craved him once the pompous lawyer's touch became existent. He could feel you, you were tense. Even the way your head slouched, shoulders decompressing, and then he squeezed again. God you should have fucking hated this. Swiped his hands away and punched him. How dare a man think he could just do that.
But Changbin was only doing what you said. Proving that he could do the talk and the walk; all of a sudden the pompous lawyer was speaking a thousand words with two simple maneuvers of his finger tips. An unexplainable moan left your lips, the texture of his fingers feeling almost too perfect to gain your own skin.
“Ringing any bells now?”
You couldn't say nothing, the combination of your circulation being impacted and the secondary fact being that you would never admit when you were wrong. Although morally questionable, he did help you in his own way. Your lips began to tingle, unsure if it was from his grip on your throat, or the unexplainable feeling that could be equated to the dopamine high of the texture that was Changbin’s lips, but one thing was for sure. The longer he had you like that, the stronger the intensity to need him right here, right now became.
When your eyelids fluttered open again, you couldn’t help but smile, now partly embarrassed of how easy it was for him to persuade you. Remind you of how good he could make you feel. The pompous lawyer, in his own way, was helping you get through this.
“Fuck, I’m gonna regret this.”
You gave him no time to respond, walking backwards, dragging him by the hand around your neck as his backside landed on the edge of the table once more, your own legs atop of his as you now sit on his lap, lips lunging forward and connecting with him immediately. It was completely forgotten the environment you were in the moment the two of you connected. Everything felt so much clearer, like there was a pathway out of all of this. The pompous lawyer withdrew his hand from your throat, instead, snaking both to hold your ass in place. A deep groan escaped his lips as soon as he got his hands on your flesh. He was subtle with his touch here, a light rhythm of massage forming as the kiss deepend further and further, all of your senses focused on the texture, sound, smell of the pompous lawyer.
“Fuck,” you mumbled inbetween each kiss, “this is so unprofessional of me.”
He chuckled, the vibration easily felt against your lips as they left yours, covering the outer edge of your jaw, teeth gently biting down on your lobe, but that was it. It should be illegal how good his teeth felt fucking biting down on your like that. The pompous lawyer smirked, able to elicit the exact response he wanted.. He knew that you definitely were remembering how he was helping you.
“You never answered me,” he growled, voice laced with deep lust, the wanton need for you was eating him alive.
“You didn't ask a ques-”
“They’re fucking crazy.”
The voice through the speaker of the interrogation room took you out of the lust filled dimension that had engulfed you and brought you back to reality. The pompous lawyer knew he had been caught in a compromising position. He was much too experienced to know what that sound meant. The interrogation rooms at the precinct had a one sided mirror, allowing detectives to watch perpetrators when being interviewed, as well as if they needed to communicate with personnel during. Not for officers to be snooping on personal matters.
“Hyunjin what the fuck? Turn the one-sided reflection off and show me what you're doing right now.”
He did what he was told, the glass showing the sheepish, mischievous duo that was Hyunjin and Felix. Had they been there the whole time? Fuck. This is quite literally the worst thing that has ever happened to you in your life. The world was flashing before your eyes, and you knew damn well that there was no possible way that you could ever live this down. They also looked just as shocked, assuming they thought they were too slick to be caught. Changbin stood up immediately, bringing his hands to either side of his suit jacket in an attempt to straighten himself up. He checked his phone, pretending that he had a missed call from ‘someone important.’
“Oh uh, I have to go, I missed a call from a client.”
“Oh yeah sure,” you nodded, “you should probably take that.”
He nodded, eyes glued to the ground because quite frankly, he'd rather get hit by a bus than even having a chance of making eye contact with the two male officers standing in front of them. He went to walk out, meeting the two officers he wished to avoid outside of the room with you, the two of them watching your every movement. He looked at you once more, giving you a smile without lips or teeth, kind of like when you pass a stranger in the street and want to be nice.
“I have room tonight if you want to uh, discuss more about what we have been talking about.”
“For the case right?”
“Yes,” he yelled, way too loud and a poor strive of trying to come off as cool, calm and collected, the opposite of how someone should be after they have been caught making out with their sworn enemy. He coughed, adjusting his tone, “Yes of course, I’ll text you the time.”
“Yeah great okay bye.”
The pompous lawyer sped walk into the opposite direction. A sigh of relief escaped your chest the moment he was out of everyone’s sight. It was now time for your two best friends to cop the biggest grilling of their life. But later, you were honestly way too annoyed that Changbin riled you up and they interrupted such a hot, arousing moment. It was killing you the way that they didn’t even look apologetic. If anything, they looked like they were about to burst at the seams with laughter. There definitely was an “I told you so” bubbling at the brim of their lips.
“I don’t want to hear a fucking peep out of either of you for the rest of the day.”
The walk from the room to the seat was painful, the snickers and giggles erupting behind you only adding to your frustration. Even the moment you sat back down at your desk, they were burning holes into the side of your face with their eyes. You could only take so much. But at the same time it was impacting you from getting your work done, and that was where you drew the line.
“How much did you hear?”
The two of them looked at each other, then back at you, a guilty expression written on their faces.
“Do you really want to know?”
“Would I ask if I didn’t?”
“We kind of followed Changbin for about 30 seconds after he went to look for you so he wouldn’t see us.”
A heavy sigh escaped your chest at their unfortunate confession.
“Ok,” you huffed, turning to face them. You really wished you weren't going to ask this, but it was better, you thought, to get it out in the open now, rather than being the elephant in the room.
“I will let you both ask one question each and after that we never speak of it again. Deal?”
They both nodded, thank fuck.
“Okay, who is going to go first?”
“Me me me please,” Felix whined, kicking his feet up and down like a literal child throwing a tantrum.
“Okay go ahead.”
He smirked before opening that big mouth of his again, “what did he mean when he said,” he paused, adjusting his voice to imitate the pompous lawyer, tucking his chin in and lowering his head, thinking that would help achieve the sound he wanted.
“I did fucking help you.”
Your head was buried in your hands immediately. There was just no way you could answer. It would be opening a can of worms. You knew there would be no way that the two of them would be able to limit themselves.
“With the case. T.O is apparently saying a lot of bad stuff about me.”
Felix knew as soon as your eyes darted away from him that you were definitely not telling the truth.
“You’re lying.”
You gasped, “No I’m not! How dare you even accuse me of that?”
Hyunjin smirked, “Y/n I’m sorry I know you’re my T.O and im 100% going to be stepping over the line here. But do you really expect us to believe that was the first time you have made out with that man?”
Your jaw dropped in disbelief. What were you even supposed to say to that? It was embarrassing because he hit the nail bang on the head. It took you back to last night, in his office, his length, his body that you saw always straining against that insufferable fabric, his hands, his fingers. The images of his hands on your core flashed through your mind for a brief moment, making you feel a little dizzy.
Hyunjin raised his hands towards you as he spoke again, “It looked like he really knew what he was doing with you.”
“Okay fine! You got me okay! It’s not the first time.”
“So when was the first time?”
“Last night,” you mumbled, turning away from them completely so the chance of them seeing what you said was zero to none.
“What?”
“You heard me.”
“Uh no,” Felix replied sarcastically, “I actually didn’t.”
“It was last night. At his office.”
The two of them said nothing, instead, Hyunjin reached into his desk drawer, pulling out a 10 dollar note and a pack of mini m&ms from the vending machine.
“I fucking told you!” Felix yelled, causing half the precinct to stare. The three of you shriveled into your desks, whispering now seeming like the appropriate way to continue the conversation.
“Okay,” Hynunjin’s tone in a whisper was harsh, “you have to tell us the sequence of events.”
“No I don’t? That’s so personal.”
“Oh yes you do,” your best friend interjects, whirling around in his chair to get closer to the two of you in the desk triangle, closing you in with nowhere to escape.
“Fine. You know I went there with innocent intentions. To talk about the case and that’s it.”
They nodded, but you huffed, knowing that you were about to sound so predictable and ridiculous to them.
“But, fuck man, he just makes me so angry. Like he says stuff to just piss me off on purpose because I say one little thing. Fuck he’s such a fucking dick! Like everybody, whether you like me or not, knows that this is a fucking hard situation for me. I was already so nervous going into it because the questions would be difficult. He just knows how to push my buttons.”
You closed your eyes, recalling the dialogue from last night in its entirety. For some reason you were anxious telling them. It had nothing to do with them judging you. They were simply just not like that. Maybe it was the fact that as you retold, you could feel his warmth, the touch that you mentioned you craved so much one it reappeared, running through your body. A dull ache formed under the top layer of your skin. Someone that you angrily hooked up with once, now twice, shouldn't have had this much of an impact on you. The context was vulnerable, you were sensitive, and he was just being there for you in sincerity, well that’s what you would like to think. Once your eyes opened, you were expecting a look of concern, but you were surprised, Hyunjin and Felix looking at each other with a brow raised before looking at you. They said nothing.
“What?”
“If I’m being honest,” Felix continued to whisper, “it kind of sounds like you were wanting to push his buttons.”
The rookie's eyes widened, clicking his fingers and nodding in agreement, “That’s what I was thinking!”
“Literally how did you derive that?”
“Y/n you know I’m honest. I feel like, and I can't believe I say a nice thing about that guy, but he was just being professional, asking the questions he needed, until you started rushing him, making comments out of the side of your mouth about him loving money.”
Felix paused, taking a deep breath, “I want to ask you, and don’t get angry with me.”
“Anything.”
“Did you go there, hoping that something would happen?”
You should have been offended by his question. What the fuck was he implying. But then you took yourself back to yesterday afternoon, and that feeling was back. That feeling that you couldn’t put your finger on, but you liked it. God did you fucking like it. The mystery of the unknown was enticing. But your best friend didn’t need to know that.
“No,” you gulped, “I was just nervous to talk about the case, seeing as I blocked the core of it out of my mind.”
“We still don’t know what happened after he said, and I quote ‘I want to make sure you’re okay and you don’t get caught in the crossfire.’”
Felix giggled at Hyunjins dramatic recall. Your hand came to your face in the form of a facepalm, knowing what you were going to say next was so cliche.
“Fuck my life, I said, ‘so rather than criticizing me, help me. Help me get through this how you would if you were me’ and one thing leads to another and.”
“And what, you guys kissed?”
Your lips escaped into your mouth, nodding, really not wanting to elaborate.
“Bit more than that?”
“Oh my god you guys fucked that’s crazy.”
The punch into Felix’s shoulder was warranted. You winced at the vulgarity of his words. However, it felt like a giant weight lifted off of your shoulders.
“You didn’t have to say it like that, but yeah, we did and now its lowkey fucking with me head.”
The shrill of the desk phone almost knocked the three out of your seats. After your semi-heart attack has passed, you check the tiny phone screen, an unknown number popping up on the screen. You answered, sternly, “Hello, you're speaking with Officer Y/l/n.”
“Y/n hey, it’s Changbin.”
Your eyes bulged out of your head when you heard his name. You really should not be that excited at the sound of his voice.
“Oh hey Changbin, what’s up?”
The two boys next to you were quick to swivel past, their ears resting against each of yours, waiting to get every single detail from a simple phone call they could.
“I was so flustered earlier, you know, getting caught I uhm.”
He paused.
“Can you cut to the chase please? We are very busy at the station here.”
Hyunjin nudged you, mouthing ‘that’s rude’ when you turned to look at him. He was right, it came off a little hush. Maybe you were just nervous, having an absent mind as to the reasons why he was actually calling.
“Oh uh sorry,” he coughed in between his words, “I realize I didn’t actually have your number. To contact you about our next appointment, nothing else of course.”
“Oh yeah,” you chuckled nervously, “sure for the case. It’s (y/p/n).”
“Great,” you could hear his smile through the phone, “I have some stuff at my apartment that I can’t bring to the office due to confidentiality. Would you be okay meeting at my apartment instead?”
“Uh, yeah okay sure.”
“Great, I’ll text you my address and the time.”
“Okay bye.”
Without warning, the phone was hung up back on the station. A pang of excitement streaked through your body, but vanished quickly, seeing your two best friends smacking each other silly. The moment you cut them with your eyes, they stopped, pretending to go back to work. They should not be this excited, and this time you were going to ensure that it was business only. You go, contribute to your testimony and leave. It did not matter that the setting would be informal, a couch, kitchen, a bed. The thought was irrelevant. It should have stopped there. But that would be too simple. One thought led to the flood of your brain, waves of cognitions of 30 minutes ago, his finger pads on your neck, lips on your jaw, which only naturally led to the lines of your ass tingling, reminiscing on the cool texture of the brown marble that was the edge of his desk. You could feel the perspiration excreting across your forehead at this moment. You brought your hand to your forehead, feeling an intense warmth at the touch. You were not getting just any fever from the cold weather. This fever only had the ability to be caused by one person. Him. The pompous lawyer, and it was fucking terrifying. It wasn’t even him as a person. Really you could care less about him personally.
The ding of your phone took you out of your thought monsoon, taking it out of your pocket immediately to see you had received a message from a number that had not been saved yet.
[12:42 pm]
*unknown* : Here is my address. I finish work at 7pm tonight. Does 7:30 work for you?
A sudden flow of panic swept through your body. Why did you feel so wrong, so guilty? It felt like a blight on your job, like it was going against everything you stood for. You also tended to have a flair for the dramatic. All you could do was stare at your phone. Unsure if you should even reply. If you didn’t, then you could save yourself from accidentally making this mistake. But then again, the longer you dragged this out, the longer you would have to work with him. Maybe it was just better to get it out of the way. Your thumbs began to hover over the screen, tapping the appropriate letters in order to reply.
[12:53 pm]
Y/n: I finish patrol at 7 so 7:30 should be fine :)
[12:55 pm]
Changbin: No worries. C u then.
“He texted you, didn’t he?”
“He did,” you replied to Felix, “I’m going to his tonight after work.”
Hyunjin smirked, “To his huh?”
“Shut up,” you whined, “I’m just going to talk about the case, nothing else.”
“That’s what you said last time.”
Yeah, sure you were.
**
The day went surprisingly quickly. Patrol was quiet, just a couple of parking tickets. No chases thank goodness. The clock striked seven, and you were quick to clock out, giving you as much time as possible to get home, shower, fix your hair, chuck on some makeup, get a house warming gift and still be punctual.
You decided to go pretty low maintenance. Just a quick brush of your hair, subtle makeup, simple clothes being a pair of black flare leggings and a basic tee. It was already 7:15 by the time you were ready, and checking the maps, it was going to take another 10 minutes to get there. There was no choice for you but to leave now. Looking up at the mirror just before the front door, you had one last glance, noticing everything was in place before grabbing your car keys and speed walking to your car.
The drive was nerve wracking, eyes focused on the road while also trying to listen to the maps was fucking difficult. The time you estimated was correct, arriving 5 minutes early before getting out of the car. You locked the car with the button on your keys, placing them into your bag before taking in what was the pompous lawyers house. A basic white picket fence, however, his house was nothing short of grand. An iron carved black gate in front of the front door, well groomed hedges and flowers, tulips, roses, hydrangea, you name it. It was there. The statue of a large black fox, so sleek, tapered water out of its mouth running at the same time as the sprinklers covering the grass that made up the rest of the front lawn. Once you heard the doorbell similar to a grand opera, you knew this was a mistake. Changbin had to have been lying. The only reason he invited you to his house was once again just a flex. A brag to show how much money he made defending the scum of the earth.
The front door opened, a much different person that was definitely not Changbin opening the door. You panicked for a brief moment, thinking that the pompous lawyer would do something as selfish as giving you the wrong address.
“Hello and welcome to the Seo manner. How can I help you?”
“Is this the right address? I’m here to see Changbin,” you shook your head, “Mr. Seo. I have an appointment.”
“Ah, you must be y/n. I am Seungmin, Changbin’s personal assistant.”
Seungmin opened the iron clad door for you, allowing you to walk inside and once again, take in the inside of his house. The first thing you noticed was the staircase. It was in a circular motion, rounding all the way until it reached the second floor, appearing to be only one room there. The first floor had marble floors, similar to the desk of his office, very much open spaces. Interesting artwork however, seeming to be sketches of very much naked women around the house. Ugh.
The pompous lawyer's personal assistant, who you did not know ever existed by the way, reached a hand out, inviting you to shake it. You accepted. Sheepishly, still taken aback by how annoyingly nice his house was.
“Changbin is just in his home office. I’ll take you there now.”
You simply nodded, walking behind the new stranger.
“So how long have you been Changbin- Mr.Seo’s assistant for?”
“For a few years.”
“But we have never met before?”
“Yes well,” he chuckled, “I don’t really take part in his business life. More home and personal events.”
“Ah I understand,” you smiled. The walk was short. Two large wooden doors obstruct you from seeing his office.
“You know Mr. Seo talks about you alot?”
There it was again. He was now the second person to say that. It doesn’t matter, it’s not like it meant anything. You weren’t sure what to say, interrupted by the grand opening, seeing a much more relaxed Changbin. His hair was down, a much stronger wave to it. He was not wearing a suit either. The pompous lawyer was wearing a pair of black sweats, a white t-shirt that was of course way too small for his figure, and a navy jacket, accompanied by a collar. The thing that took you off guard the most was the glasses. This was also a new fact that you had learnt about this subject. That he needed glasses. They were cute the way they sat on his face, much too big for the shape of his features. You could feel the heat creep onto your cheeks as soon as his eyes landed on you. His smile was warm for the briefest second you could count, returning right back to stoic expression before getting out of his chair, walking up to greet you.
“Y/n,” he smirked, a quick glance up and down before his hand came out for a shake, “good evening.”
Your brow furrowed, constantly confused by Changbin’s demeanor. It was constantly changing, and you really did not know what to expect. The toxic part of you longed for it when it was simple, which was only a day ago. Nothing but arguing and bickering. Instead, it was this half witted, sarcastic charm, showing off his ‘professionalism’ in front of his assistant. If only he knew what happened at the office. You took his hand, giving him an unsure shake before pulling away, following the gesture of his other hand towards the small couch in the corner of his far from humble office. He took the edge on the opposite side of you, adjusting himself before he gazed at you again.
“How was the rest of your day?”
“Fine,” you nodded politely, “how was yours?”
“Uh great.”
There was some awkwardness, yet simultaneously, there was a tension that lingered. The two of you would be stupid to be ignorant of it. Too many things had happened in the past 48 hours to act like everything was fine. Maybe for him it was. Part of the pompous layers job was to act nonchalant, mysterious if you will. He could never show his emotions in court, especially when he was losing. He knew how to keep things cool, calm and collected.
But everything changed when it came to you. Even before yesterday, no matter what you did, it always got a rise out of him, and he could not help but lash out. There was no self control when it came to you. But similar to yourself, he would rather stay in denial than admit that care about what you think of him. Your opinion of him.
Your chest felt like it was going to burst. The guilt traveled over your body. He was trying to be nice, accommodating. He didn’t half come to find you after you begged him to tell you the hurtful stuff you T.O said. An apology was sitting at the tip of your tongue, but you were not sure how to say it.
“Did you want to get start-”
“I’m really sorry.”
“Oh,” he chucked, “what are you sorry for?”
You scooched closer, wanting to be genuine in your sincerity, “For today at the precinct. That was really unprofessional of me and I will make sure that my two fellow officers apologize the next time they see you.”
The pompous lawyer said nothing, instead, throwing his head back, just laughing at your apology. How fucking dare he? Give someone an inch, and they'll take a mile. It already annoyed you in general when someone laughed at your sincerity, but the fact that it was him; the level of anger was a whole new one.
“Why are you laughing?”
“Oh,” you attempted to contain yourself, placing a hand on his chest, “why are you apologizing? I started it.”
“Oh.”
Your body suddenly relaxed, realizing that he was laughing with you, rather than at you. His laugh was somewhat infectious, causing you to follow suit.
“If anything I should be apologizing, I started it.”
“Oh well, are you going to?”
His laughing ceased quickly.
“No, I can't apologize for something I’m not sorry for.”
“Oh my god,” you huffed, immediately fanning your face to disrupt the heat that was coming to it. The smile on your face was impossible to wipe off. He noticed it too, but instead of embarrassing you, he got up, grabbing a folder of what you assumed to be classified documents off his desk and onto the table in front of you.
“Okay so, we need to really get into the nooks and crannies of your daily routines with your T.O.”
The mention of your former supervisor killed the lighthearted mood of the room. Even though you knew that was the purpose of this meeting, it still was a sensitive topic. You nodded, gulping intensely in preparation for what he would ask you.
“Right,” you sighed, gritting your teeth to stay on guard, “that’s what we are here for.”
“Yessss,” he hissed, extending his words, “well since this was an inside police operation, what would you do when he would communicate with witnesses that were part of the syndicate?”
“Uhh,” you puff your cheeks, eyes looking at the ground as you recall your memory, “I usually would wait outside because they would get me to coordinate and communicate with the backup officers.”
Changbin clenched his jaw as he concentrated on his notepad, legs spread wide as he focused the thin paper on one knee, forearm clenching back and forth to write down every intricate detail of what you said.
“Okay, and so then what if it was a minor crime?”
“I’m not sure what you mean?”
“When the crime was not large enough, and there was no backup required. What did he do then?”
“Oh I see,” you gasped, understanding the question, “usually I would just stand behind. If it was a home visit, he usually got me to look around while he asked the questions.”
So you were not present during questioning ever?”
“Not really, unless it was like pulling a car over. I usually did that.”
“Right, okay.”
As he wrote down what you said, your brain, unforgivingly, started to tick. It felt odd that your T.O wanted you as a character witness, yet they kept saying bad things about you to Changbin.
“Changbin, can I ask you a question?”
“Sure.”
The pompous lawyer is unable to look up, still concentrating on finishing what you said on the notepad.
“Why would they want me as a character witness? Why do they keep saying bad things about me to you?”
His pen froze immediately.
“Uh,” he scrunched his nose, scratching his head in a feigning innocence, “I’m not sure. You do bring up a good point. Did you want a coffee? I also have tea.”
That was strange, but you chose to brush it off, blaming it on your nerves about the case being the reason for your perception. Changbin got up immediately, not even waiting for you to answer. You grabbed the bottle out next to your bag, making sure he could see what you were holding. He chuckled, “we actually have to do some work first.”
“Damn,” you sighed, smacking your knee playfully, “if only we didn’t need to do any work.”
“Yeah,” he replied, biting down on his bottom lip, “if only there were other things we could do.”
The tension in the room had come back, the intensity stronger than before. You knew he could be a douchebag, but not in a way that would turn you on a little bit. The pompous lawyer had never been so forward, putting it out on the table. It made you giggle, feeling like an innocent woman who had been corrupted by the devil that was the main in front of you.
Your giggle was cut short, however, hearing your ringtone permeating through the room. Unzipping your bag next to you, you grabbed your phone, confused as to when you saw an unknown number. You still answered, as you normally did.
“Officer y/n, who is calling?”
“Y/n.”
Your heart sank immediately,knowing exactly whose voice was on the other side.
“Why are you calling me?”
“Hey y/n, how are you though?”
“How am I?,” you paused, taking your phone off your ear and putting it on speaker, “what the fuck do you think?”
“Y/n,” they sighed, “I know I fucked up, I’m sorry I-”
“Why did you try to throw me under the bus to Changbin?”
As soon as you answered the call, the pompous lawyer turned his back to you. He did not want any part of this. That was until he heard your last question. His actions were immediate, jumping to your side as he anticipated his client’s response. He was desperate to hear what your T.O was saying, but it was impossible, seeing as your phone was glued to your ear.
“What? I never said anything bad about you to him. You were my most respected rookie.”
“How am I supposed to believe anything you say?”
“Look, y/n, I know I have fucked up bad, but I truly never said that. Changbin told me to call you.”
“What?”
The look on your face was contorted, truly confused about what to believe. The pompous lawyer's eyes widened, hands hovering over yours as he attempted to take your phone, thumb reaching for the red button, attempting to hang up. He should have known better than to try and take something off of a police officer. Your hands were nimble, however, it was your foot that came in clutch, sweeping at his ankle before he fell to the floor, pinning him down, hovering over his body, keeping your phone on the floor above his head.
“He told me to call you, ask you to help me in the case, by my character witness.”
“Oh,” you gritted, practically death glaring at the man underneath you, “did he?”
He tried to become free of your hold, but there was simply no chance. The anger that was beginning to bubble at Changbin’s deception was pooling into your hands, finger pads slowly digging into the bulge that was his forearm muscles.
“Yeah I-”
“Look, I gotta go. If you need something from me, you can contact me through your lawyer. Bye.”
You were quick to hang up the phone, simultaneously deciding to surrender your domineering position on top of him. Your chest was bubbling with vexation, hurt. Why would he do all of this? To embarrass you. To get back at what happened last night? How do you even address that?
The pompous lawyer said nothing, standing up and straightening his shirt before taking a seat in his home office chair. He opened his laptop, completing forgetting that you were there, to see him, for an appointment, to talk about this fucking case that he completely manipulated you into being a part of. You walked over to his desk, standing over him as you stared him down, refusing to give your stance. You waved your hands, knowing damn well that he would be able to see it in his peripheral view. He did nothing, instead, opening his emails and pretending to scan the screen, refreshing multiple times and most likely praying that he could get out of admitting to his fault by replying to a new message.
“You have got to be fucking kidding me right now?”
Nothing.
“Changbin? Are you serious right now?”
Nothing.
“What happened to helping like you said?”
He said nothing for a third time, but in your book, three strikes, you're out. Grabbing the papers that laid on his desk, you picked them up, thawing them on the floor. It took the physical motion of the papers dropping to the inferior surface is how you got something out of him. He turned to face you, still in his chair, jaw dropped to the floor.
“What do you think you’re doing?”
Your head falls back in a laugh, amazed at the audacity of his question.
“Did I get your fucking attention? Do these papers being messed up disadvantage you in any way? Will this mess up your pretty little house?”
You pouted, as fake in sincerity as they come.
“Do you think that’s an appropriate way to behave?”
“God,” you sighed, “I knew this was a mistake coming here.”
Rather than arguing, it was easier for you to say nothing, grabbing your bag and heading for the door. Changbin watched you walk, but he didn't want you to leave. Of course he felt bad, but it was Chagbin. The pompous lawyer didn’t have the name for no reason. He scurried to the door, pushing it against your pull to shut it. Changbin stood in front, hands blocking the hinges to prevent your exit in any way.
“Let me explain.”
Your gaze remained anywhere but on him, refusing to give the pompous lawyer that satisfaction.
“Start talking.”
“They were telling the truth.”
Your heart sank, again. You walked back to the couch, taking a seat in order to listen to the bullshit this man in front of you was about to say.
“I did tell them to call you, but that was before I even mentioned the case to you. It wasn’t until yesterday when I spoke to your Sargeant that I should not have mentioned that. Which is why I was going to bring it up organically with you.”
“Right,” you replied in a blunt tone, “Did Sergeant tell you to lie and keep details from me as well?”
The pompous lawyer looked away, not wanting to fess up. The lack of answer made you shake your head, a laugh of frustration leaving your lips. Your hands were in the air.
“You know what? This is my fault,” you yelled, voice growing louder with each word, “I shouldn’t have expected anything more from you.”
“What?”
His eyes were squinted, completely taken aback by your bold statement. His eyes were blazing holes into your face, desperate to hear how on earth you would back up what you just said.
“You heard me. God I feel like a fucking idiot myself. Expecting more from you, to actually treat me with care and respect. But of course you lied, and acted like the pompous lawyer I knew you were to be. You brought me here to show me once again, how rich you are and that you think you’re better than everyone else.”
Changbin laughed, a smirk appearing on his face at your words, his own anger bubbling at the base of his throat. Like you said, his ego, pride was a large construct. The tumultuous amounts of time the two of you had squabble at the precinct, in front of others, being told off by the Sergeant, it was endless. But everytime you insulted him, directly attacked his character, it was like a stab wound right to the middle of the chest.
“I’m a pompous lawyer? You’re the most fucking uptight officer I have ever seen. Do every single thing by the fucking book.”
He took a step closer as he continued his speech.
“Everything. I took the fucking stick out of your ass last night and what? For you to turn around and say I’m not helping you? I’m a pompous lawyer, yet I took the time to bring you to my office. I followed you to the interrogation room today. And you’re angry?”
“Yes,” you bit back, viciously, “I’m fucking angry, you lied!”
The pompous lawyer chuckled, again, taking another stride closer to you. You hated so many things at that moment. The smug expression on his face, the way his chest was puffing heavily when he finished yelling back. But what you really hated the most, truly, was how turned on you were. Impressed that someone in your life actually had the balls to give back the same energy you gave him. His aura was angry, but it was not being translated that way. If anything, maybe because your senses were being blinded by your arousal, but the scent that permeated from the pompous lawyer was one that you could feel yourself getting pulled in, and you hated it. Really, really hated it. Trying to maintain your composure was getting difficult.
“You’re not angry,” he chuckled, again, “look at you.”
“Are you joking,” you laughed nervously, “you have no idea how angry I am right now.”
“Show me,” Changbin huffed, closing the distance between the two of you to, at this night, at all time close proximity. You could feel the perspiration on your skin linger, causing the palm of your hands to clam up. What was his idea? What were you expecting?
“What?”
The pompous lawyer’s tone decreased in sound the closer he got to you. His eyes however, did not move, pupils like superglue stuck to your own, every now and then hovering to your lips.
“I love when you're angry at me.”
“Why the fuck would you like that?”
“Because,” he paused, gently slipping his arms out of his jacket, before he continued, “it makes me want to fuck the anger out of you.”
A gasp escaped from your lips, completely taken aback by the vulgarity of his language, again. Out of all the things he could have possibly said, that was the last thing you expected. But deep down, you knew there was much truth to his words, and therefore, maybe that was the reason why the two of you fought so much. You would be lying if you said that you hadn't thought about it. Maybe it was because of your love life, after being in a relationship for a long time, followed by a long period of being by yourself. You were content, happy with spending time with yourself, family friends. But there were moments where you needed some passion. Sure, police patrol at times was crazy work, but it didn’t feel personal. Sometimes it crept into your mind how nice it would be to have a man rip your clothes off, treat you harshly and not apologize for it.
Your pursed lips turned into a smirk as you took a step closer, wrapping your arms around his neck. You were stubborn, so was he. Making the first move, with your lips, was not a viable option. Changbin still looked mad, his face never changing as his own arms wrapped around your lower back.
“Yeah?” you questioned, biting down your bottom lip, “I’m really fucking angry.”
This was not right. You forgot that the pompous lawyer had just lied to your face. But the feeling of his fingertips digging into your backside, palms crawling underneath the fabric that obstructed him from getting a feel of your skin, the real you, fingernails accidentally dragging across the faceless hairs on your back, the texture changing as a shiver shot down your spine, straight through the center of your back. A large gasp gritted through your teeth, the sound resembling one of giving up and into his touch.
Changbin got closer, lips barely an inch away, his bottom lip accidentally touching your chin as he brought them to yours, dragging it out as long as possible before the gentlest kiss known to man. A small peck was all it took before hebecause after that, things reached a boiling point within a matter of seconds.
Hands were flying around each other's bodies, tongues racing for dominance as the pompous’ lawyers strength walked you backwards, legs giving way as the back of your knees hit the edge of the sofa, falling backwards, lying across said sofa. Changbin chuckled as the two of you got pulled away from gravity, but he was quick to follow. The pompous lawyer’s reached out his hand to life you off of the couch, swapping positions so that he was now sitting on the sofa, spreading his legs wide as he used his left hand to point at you, middle and index finger suggesting you to sit a top of him, right hand undoing the buckle on his belt. Your jaw dropped at how simple he could multitask, and boy was it enough for you to accept the invitation. Each leg sitting on the opposite side of his, core begging to ache as the dense fabric of your bottoms gently brushed against his groin. The feeling that you have been chasing, the one you felt last night was coming back.
“Mmm,” he mumbled, wrapping his digits around the back of your neck as he pulled you in again, hips setting a gentle pace as your lips and hips moved back and forth. It took everything in you to not let out the most gut wrenching moan. The two of you were doing the bare minimum, and admitting to Changbin, the pompous lawyer, that you were getting great satisfaction out of such a simple action was just something you refused to do. Instead he did it for you, the bellow of his groan sending a vibration into your lips, past your throat, and into the pit of your stomach. Your hands began to snake around, left hand snaking up and underneath his t-shirt, the other attempting to wip the belt out of its holding. The man below you pulled away for a brief moment, shadowing the dorsal side of your hands as he whipped his own belt out of each hole, pulling and pushing it away as the two of you reconnected. The pompous lawyer kicked the pool that was his pants off his ankles, your right hand continuing its mission,right to his throbbing length. The pompous lawyer accidentally bit down on your bottom lip, pulling away again to let out a deep moan as he felt the callousness of your feelers wrapping around him. A sigh of relief, followed by a lustful smile played on your lips as you kept your hand in the same spot, watching the pompous lawyer drag his hips in desperation. God, Changbin was already on cloud 9. You having his hand on his cock was all he truly could think about since last night. Even the brief moment, the fact that last night, he spent most of his time trying to pleasure you, the few moments you spent pleasuring him were all he could think about. He knew it was selfish, because watching you contort and give into him, even after all of the meanings she he has said about you in the past should have been good enough to imprint in his brain; and by all means, they were. But as soon as your hands were on him again, quite literally, his memories were only replaying that. Although you sitting on his lap was blocking his full ability for you to feel all of him, he did not care. Any touch that was yours was good enough for him.
You scooted back, allowing Changbin to lift his hips and swipe his pants off in one swift motion, dropping the fabric to his ankles. His expose now gave you free rain, pulling away as you tried to catch your breath as both of your hands wrapped around the base of his pulsating cock, the pompous lawyer's hips bucking involuntarily, lips shaking as his throat let out a deep groan at the contact.
“Jesus,” he hissed.
“What,” you pouted, attempting to mock him in his vulnerable state, “can’t handle it?”
“You’re so annoying when your smug,” he groaned, fingers trickling across the hem of your shirt, arms leaving him for a brief moment as he lifted your obstructing garment over your chest, eyes almost watering as soon as it was off, two fingers hanging around your back and there it was, bra clipped off instantly. Your automatic reaction was to cover up, how ironic. It wasn’t something that he had not seen before, but this felt a little different. The longer he kept his eyes on your chest, the moreheated your cheeks became. His eyes softened, almost like he was watching you in awe. It made you freeze, part of you feeling rude if you moved. His hand came to your wrists, gently pulling on the flesh to prevent you from hiding, and as soon as he did, the man became a fiend.
Chanbgin’s lips attacked the soft flesh immediately, fingertips quick to assist as they gripped the mound, tongue flicking across your left nipple. Your head was throwing back, your own hands running through the pompous lawyer’s usually slicked back hair. His teeth came into the mix, the roughness of his mouth truly felt like heaven. It was in some kind of way a metaphor of your relationship. Rough around the edges. The roughness being the constant bickering, the continuous back and forth, but nonetheless, it still felt good. So good. The pompous lawyer was unforgiving with his mouth, tongue leaving your nippes, still stuck out however, leaving a trail down your stomach. The cool sensation of his saliva felt like ice to your heated skin, back arching the closer he got to where you needed him the most. Your eyes opened as soon as his digits reached the waistband of your pants. Luckily the bottoms you chose to wear did not have any buttons or a zipper, because Changbin was able to swing them off of your hips, desperalty kicking your legs to take them off, along with your panties simultaneously. Desperate time calls for desperate measures. If anything, it added to the fun of it all. Made it feel like it was something you weren’t supposed to be doing. The whole point of this was to come here and work on the case. The testimony was only a week away and to be prepared was the most important thing.
But as soon as you were in close proximity to Changbin, which usually boiled your bones, your brain conspired, a lust filling fluid encompassing the matter. It was going to become a real problem, because your cognitions began to change and associate with the lewd acts you did every time you saw him.
But that seemed like a minute detail in the current moment as the pompous lawyer gripped himself, a few pumps as a small uncontrollable moan left his lips over and over. You lifted your hips off his lap, wanting to help him as he lined his cock up with your pulsating entrance. My god, were you throbbing. This had been the longest time that anyone had not touched you prior to penetration. Usually you needed it, the men you had been with before never did enough to prepare you in that way. But your pussy was quivering with anticipation, dripping with arousal for him. Changbin used his free hand, index finger briefly swiping through your folds, your hips jolting immediately at the unexpected friction. The movement was quick, bringing his digits to his lips and smearing your arousal across the pink flesh, tips entering the hole that was his mouth. Your eyebrows furrowed as your lips fell open, ocre throbbing even harder at how attractive the pompous lawyer looked, underneath you, tasting your slick. Fuck, if you knew this is what would happen everytime the tow of you disagreed, this would have occurred alot sooner. Every second that he wasn't inside of you, it was a second of more torture.
“Hurry up,” you mumbled, giggling as your hips were fatigued, resting and letting your core land across his cock. Your clit barely brushed his tip, another nervous chuckle escaping your lips at the bare second of pleasure that flooded your veins at every little friction, every little touch. His smirk disappeared, tongue hanging outside of his mouth, eyebrows chiseled in a form that helped him to concentrate. But boy were you making it hard for him. You were such a distraction. There was a tumultuous amount of ways he wanted to pleasure you that were ticking on his brain, much more intensely before. Now, his brain was fried, your body combined with your horny daze was enough to drive him crazy.
Changbin’s tip was prodding at your entrance, and enough was enough. You lifted your hips again, this time ready as his cock plunged into your entrance, a universal moan of relief from the two of you as he allowed his length to chrome buried in the depth of your pussy. Changbin brought you close, wrapping his around your back immediately, face hidden in your tits. You thought, once you were well adjusted to his girth, that you should move. And so you did, ankles lying on either side of his thighs as your knees chipped away at the sofa, hips slowly beginning to rise, and fall. Rise and fall. Over and over again.
“Jesus fucking christ,” you spat, hips riding back and forth, the pompous lawyer’s cock hitting all the right spots inside. Changbin’s tongue found its way back to your nipples, the extra sensation leaving you unable to stay quiet. Every thrust was a new level of pleasure. Your digits came to the man below you’s face, leaning down to engulf him in a deep kiss, wanting Changbin to feel the moans in his throat. The pompous lawyer reciprocated, the combinations of noises spilling out of your mouth in unison creating a heavenly vibration across your lips. He chuckled as he broke away, head falling back against the back of the sofa as his hands were simply too desperate to not roam, finger tips gravitating towards the mound that was your ass. He smacked each cheek a few times, following by grabbing in an attempt to smooth over.
“Can’t believe that fat ass is bouncing on my cock again,” he grunted, smiling as he bit down on his bottom lip, “so desperate for me.”
“Don’t get ahead of yourself,” you whimpered, increasing the pace of your rhythm, “always cocky you are.”
“Yeah, and you fucking love it,” he chuckled, “this pussy belongs to me you know?”
Changin’s words made you moan, his possessiveness something that you didn’t know why, but really turned you on. His words always had an effect on you, no matter what. Positive or negative, the pompous lawyer’s words always had an impact that would be deemed much more significant than the average person should be by their mortal enemy. Then again, most people wouldn’t have sex with their mortal enemy, more than once. Changbin’s hands, the selfish things, began to roam again, slightly huffed at your lack of acknowledgement to his question. They somehow landed right where you wanted them, where they were earlier in the day, at the precinct.
“Ohhh,” you moaned, wrapping your hands at the bat of his right wrist as they were at your neck, Changbin’s digits fondly wrapping around the fragile skin, the most subtle of pressure being applied. Your face was in a dazed awe, unable to concentrate on your hips moving in a syncopated style. Instead, he removed his hands off of you for a brief moment, standing on his knees on the sofa as he waited for you to do the same in front of him. Bending over, Changbin was quick to make work, using both of his hands to spread your ass, leaning forward and pressing a gentle kiss to your pussy, followed by a stingy few kitten licks, the friction making your knees buckle. You brought your hand to your throat, trying to recreate the exact feeling that you needed from him. But it wasn’t the same. It was after he pushed his oscillating cock back into your hole, did he notice your hand there. The pompous lawyer chuckled, in awe at how desperate you were for his touch. The two of you stood, bodies pressed against each other so Changbin could reach your throat. He did it with ease, mouth resting against your right shoulder as he bit down gently, the rough friction gratifying by every means.
“So so good,” you mumbled, unable to form a coherent sentence, “don’t stop.”
“Such a fucking dirty girl,” he grunted, pulsating in his pressure against your throat, “imagine if anyone at the precinct saw you like this.”
You could only moan in response. His pace was cold, harsh, unforgiving. It made your whole body jolt in unison. He was right. The side you gave him privy to here in your personal time was something that not one of your work colleagues expected. Yes, you told Hyunjin and Felix information from time to time, but you were known as a stickler for the rules. A good cop that would never dare to do anything against the law. If police officers competed for employee of the month, you would be the employees that would have their face printed consecutively. Sometimes, it was hard for you to even believe that you were capable of showing, no. Letting someone see you in such a vulnerable, lust hazed state of consciousness.
“You belong to me, don't you?”
“Mhm,” was all you could manage to say.
“Say it, say your pussy belongs to me.”
“My pussy,” you paused, feeling yourself coming to an all time high, “b-belongs to you.”
“Fuck,” he grunted, using his free hand to smack your ass once more, “you’re so hot when you’re obedient.”
He continued to fuck you, the pompous lawyer becoming more desperate with each thrust. The noise of Changbin’s skin slapping so loud it was sure to be echoing through the house, something Seungmin would definitely hear. His hips were beginning to lose their synchronicity, thrusts becoming slower yet harder. You weren’t sure how much more you could take. The pit in your lower abdomen was getting together and tighter, the sensation that was Changbin reaching an all time high at any moment.
“Mmmmm Changbin,” you whined, unable to control the pitch of your voice, “Changbin fuck.”
“You ok baby?”
“I’m. I’m so close.”
“It's okay princess,” he cooed, the new nickname taking you by surprise, “me too. You need to cum?”
“Yes please.”
“Yeah you wanna cum for me?”
“Yes Changbin,” you cried, “it’s too much.”
“That okay baby,” Changbin whispered, “cum for me baby.”
His words smacked you into an orgasm, the sensation of the high rolling over every single nerve in your body at an intensity never felt by you before. You could feel the way your walls clenched around him uncontrollably, Changbin chuckling at how it felt around his cock.
“Such a good girl,” he hummed, deeply, decreasing the power of his thrusts, “that pussy feels so good tweaking against me like that.”
The pompous lawyer did not last much longer after, quickly pulling out as he came on your back, hips jerking as he jerked himself to full completion. Your eyelids were dazed over, unable to calculate the time it took for Changbin to leave the room, grab a warm cloth, and clean your backside. He helped you off of your knees, grabbing a blanket that was under his desk before laying underneath you. He thought it would be a decent thing to do, cover you up as if he didn’t just see you completely naked. The two of you sat there for a while, a comfortable silence falling over the room as you stared at the ceiling wall.
“This is crazy, you know?”
You turned to look at the pompous lawyer, met with his perfect side profile. It made you smile for some reason.
“Yeah. I don’t know what happens but-”
“Do you regret it?”
The question made you rise from his side, leaning over to face him.
“No. No part of me regrets it so far, as much as I should?”
“As much as you should?”
“Yeah,” you laughed, “you know, because we ‘hate’ each other?’”
“Oh,” Changbin smirked, “yeah, right. Listen, I don’t want to put a label on this right now. Our first focus should be the case.”
“I agree,” you smiled, pressing a quick peck to his lips.
“Awesome. I’m really sorry about lying to you as well. I felt like if I didn’t say those things, you wouldn’t have jumped on board with the case.”
“Look I get it, but please just don’t lie to me again. I always prefer honesty, and value it, now more than ever”
“Got it. I have one more thing I wanted to bring up.”
“God you talk a lot,” you whined in a joking manner, “what is it now.”
“At the precinct, we should keep things the way you are.”
“What do you mean? Like continue to argue in front of everyone like we normally do?”
“Yeah,” he paused, unsure if you were on the same page, “just so people don’t become suspicious. I personally am a very private person when it comes to my personal life. I’m sorry if that offends-”
“I am on the same page. Felix and Hyunjin already interrogated me about today. I don’t need that from everybody else.”
“Great. Should we work on the case now?”
“Totally.”
You smiled, getting up from the sofa as you found your clothes in a messy pile on the floor, simultaneously watching the pompous lawyer’s muscles bulge and flex as he also put his clothes back on. It shouldn’t have hurt your feelings, but there was a gentle pang at the bottom of your heart that he wanted to keep things casual. It didn’t matter anyway though, because once the case was over, the two of you would go back to normal.
Barely seeing each other and bickering when you did, right?
↳ making midnight memories with your bestie who you're in love with and who's most likely in love with you too
↳ masterlist
genre: fluff, friends to lovers
warnings: readers parents tell her what to do with her life
*lowercase intended *not proofread
it's 1 am and you can't sleep. you had a dinner with your parents a couple hours earlier and let's just say, it wasn't the greatest.
it's not that you don't get along with your parents per se, but sometimes they like to pester you with questions and ideas, and they chose tonight of all nights to do it. you would think it's not entirely a bad thing, but when they start to tell you things like,
"why are you wasting your time with music when you could become a doctor?"
"this job at the music store is only temporary."
"you should do this," "you should do that."
blah blah blah
you're doing fairly well in your life, but when your parents talk about it like you're wasting it all, it makes you second guess everything. night like this, you can't sleep. you totally lost your appetite at dinner so now the hunger is starting to catch up to you.
you just want one day where you can let go and have zero thoughts about school, work, and your parents constantly nagging-
*ring*
you pick up your phone to see who could be calling you at 1 am
changbin <3
you smile and swipe your screen to answer.
"hey pretty, sorry, did i wake you?" his voice was soft
"hi binnie. no, i haven't been able to sleep since i got home"
"tell me what's on your mind."
changbin never failed to show you how much he cares. he's always there to listen to your never ending rants and complaints. whether it's about school work, coworkers, or your parents, he will sit there and listen. he is the type of person that's very good with words so it's like he just knows exactly what to say next. it makes you feel bad at times when he's ranting and you just have no idea how to respond. he knows you're not great with words, but he really appreciates that you listen.
so you tell him everything. he's quiet for the most part, but adds in small comments here and there. just being able to release of the pent up anger and annoyance made you feel a little more at ease, but it still did bother you nonetheless. when you were done, it was a a comfortable silence. you knew he was just trying to process everything and think of what to say.
"i'm so sorry that your parents keep doing that shit to you. i just don't get why they can't understand how happy you are with music. y/n, you're becoming more and more amazing everyday. you have so much talent and potential to become big. i hope they'll be able to see that" you can hear the sadness in his voice. he hates the way your parents talk to you sometimes.
you feel your heart breaking a little. "thanks binnie, i appreciate it, but i don't think they'll ever understand and it's fine"
the man knows you like the back of his hand. he can clearly tell you're not okay, and he knows exactly how to cheer you up.
"go put on some warm clothes if you aren't already and be waiting downstairs in 5 minutes. okay? see you soon. i love you" he ends the call.
you feel your heart leap a bit. you hate how his words affect you so much. all of his endearments are totally platonic (girl be frr is it really?) and you curse at yourself for falling in love with your best friend. you've always felt that he's too good for.
you push away the negative thoughts, throw on a jacket, and you make your way downstairs.
｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆
when you got downstairs, you immediately took in how cute he looked. his hair was messy and fluffy, he's wearing a green hoodie and black sweatpants (yes, the maniac coolfm fit, but with his current hair). your heartbeat started racing when he held his hand out for you to take it. you interlocked hands and started walking.
"so where are we going?" you break the silence after you two start walking for a couple minutes.
he turns to you with a cheeky smile. "convenience store!"
you smile back and start picking up of your speed, pulling changbin along. you loved convenience store runs, especially with changbin. all you guys do is walk down the aisles and pick out ramen, drinks, and other snacks, but times like these are just so special to the both of you.
when you get there 5 minutes later, changbin holds the door open for you. you give him a small thank you and walk in. you immediately make a beeline for the ramen. he giggles at how excited you are and follows you. the man is whipped.
"just pick out whatever you want, my treat" he hugs you from behind and my god the butterflies and rests his chin on your shoulder
"are you sure?" you slightly turn your head to him
he gives you a small squeeze and sighs. "yes i am. y/n, i brought you out here because i hate it when you're sad. i haven't had much time with you lately so this is my way of making it up to you. now pick out anything you want so you can eat." he kisses the side of your head and let's you go so he can pick out what he wants
you stand there frozen and shocked about what just happened. you feel your face heating up and hold your cold hands up to your cheeks.
"y/n get your shit together. what's wrong with you?" you whisper to yourself. you light knock yourself on the head with the ramen cup.
you walk around the store and grab a few more snacks. you met back with changbin when you finished.
"you done?" he smiles
"mhm!" you say avoiding eye contact girl can't even look into his eyes after what happened
｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆
"thank you binnie" you interlocked hands again and started walking back to your university building
"you're welcome beautiful"
once again, you heart started racing. that's been happening a lot tonight.
"i really needed this. if my parents found out that i'm not home right now, they definitely would be thinking even more that i'm wasting time."
changbin stops walking all of a sudden. you turned to look at him with a questioning look.
changbin turns to you and frowns. "your parents are no longer the boss of your life. you should be able to make your own decisions. they claim they know what's best for you, but only you should be able to really know. i'm tired of your parents not believing in you. they really don't understand how amazing their daughter is."
you didn't even realize that he was slowly getting closer and closer to you. he cups your face gently.
"don't let them control you. if music is your passion and it makes you happy then screw what your parents believe." he's leaning in. "you have so much going for you right now and i would hate to see you give it all up just to please your parents." he's so close, there's only an inch between you, but he stops and looks into your eyes. "i believe in you. i care about you. so please tell me that you're gonna keep trying. i'd hate for you to give u-" you close the gap.
you tried your best to hold back, but you just couldn't. all of your feelings for him started clouding your mind as he was talking to you. you were reminded why you fell in love with him in the first place. he starts kissing back. his thumb caresses your cheek. the kiss is slow and passionate. you really wanted to savor this moment and you could tell he also wanted to by the way he was kissing you.
when you pulled back, it was quiet. you were trying to process what just happened until changbin broke the silence first.
"so.. is that a yes?" he had a smirk on his face and his eyes were sparkling. he was now holding you in his arms, almost like he was afraid to let you go.
you smiled and pecked him on the lips.
if you could see his face, you'd see how red it was. lord were you gonna be the death of him. he suddenly looked around and remembered that you both were in the middle of the street. (like the one in the pic at the top)
"let's get you home" he looks back at you as he holds his hand out. once again you interlock your hand with his.
this is definitely gonna be added to the list of memorable nights.
i hope this isn't too cringy lol i'm still working on my writing
if you like this, please check out my other works!
please give some feedback or reblog if you find this!!
pairing: ex boyfriend!changbin + gn!reader
genre: angst, slight fluff
word count: 0.5k
warnings: mentions of a breakup
― @districtninewriters writers’ room weekly prompt ↬ write about an autumn activity
“nice costume”
you pull your attention away from the twinkling city lights of the hometown that you’ve missed to the direction of the voice. through two small holes cut lazily from a white bed sheet you can just make out the blurred edges of a silhouette coming towards you. despite the music that’s blaring from the halloween party inside, you can recognise that voice, crystal clear and unchanged since you last heard it over a year ago.
the boy you almost loved. that maybe, if you just had more time, could have convinced you to stay. you stop yourself from calling changbin’s name aloud, not wanting to have to watch the smile fade from his face when he realises that it’s you. he joins you on the fire escape, mirroring the way your forearms are perched against cold metal as you lean into the view.
“not enjoying the party?” he asks. you respond in character, shaking your head silently. “i guess the dead don’t speak, right?” he chuckles, “...but i’m glad i’m not the only one”.
he says something casual about the weather getting colder as he wraps a gryffindor scarf snuggly around his neck. a comfortable silence hangs in the air for a few seconds before changbin sighs, breathing a puff of smoke into the frigid autumn air. you tilt your head to one side, as if to ask what’s wrong?
“it’s nothing” he smiles weakly, his eyes downcast and fixed on the passing cars below. you give a little nod to reassure him. you can tell me.
“i just thought of somebody i shouldn’t be thinking about.”
you inhale sharply as the memories start to resurface, weighing heavy on your heart. hesitantly, you nod again, encouraging him to continue.
“they were only a part of my life for a short time, just seven months. but it felt like the beginning of something. at least it did to me.”
he’s right, seven months isn’t much time in the span of a person’s life by any means. but they were the happiest months of your life. of course you didn’t realise it until you left, seduced by a job opportunity on the other side of the country that was too good to pass up. you’d always been pessimistic about long distance relationships. changbin wanted to try, but you thought it’d be easier for the both of you to just let go.
“and then it was over. poof. like it was all just make believe.”
you can feel a year’s worth of pent-up emotions start to seep through the gaps from the way he furrows his brow, choking on his own words. confusion, frustration, heartache. instinctively, your hand moves up to the rail where his fist is tightly clenched. your fingers brush delicately over his, giving them a gentle squeeze. changbin snaps out of his daze at the warm touch.
“thank you” one corner of his lip arches slightly, forming a smile.
i’m sorry, changbin, you whisper breathlessly, quiet enough for him to mistake the sound for wind, i’m so sorry.
characters : reader x seo changbin of stray kids (ft. yang jeongin)
genres: angst, i wouldn’t call this fluff but this is sweet, soulmate au, roommate au, filmmaker!changbin.
synopsis: have you ever wondered whether your soulmate would still love you if you weren’t destined to be together? because in a world where everyone has someone who’s meant for them, what matters isn’t finding them, but what happens next.
warnings: cursing
word count: 6969
a/n: I FINALLY finished this! It turned out to be shorter than my expectation but i think it’s still okay. After 1000 words or so I just realized that Changbin’s “If” probably inspired me. like i said before, i’m pretty sure i broke like 10 rules of soulmate au so please forgive me.
The sound of shutters is accompanied by the audience’s cheers. You take a glance at the television, watching the artist in spotlight bow deeply. You feel Jeongin’s eyes on you before averting your gaze back to the customer in front of you. “Here’s the change. Thank you for coming!” you exclaim, seeing Jeongin frantically looking for the TV remote from your peripheral vision.
“We’ve been waiting for this one since last year, and he’s finally back with a full album. Let’s welcome, Bang Chan!”
“First of all, Chan, congratulations on your wedding!” the MC chirps and Chan blushes. “We were all shocked when you told everyone you’re married last week. Mind to share how you met your soulmate?”
Jeongin is mouthing profanities now, opening the drawers as quiet as possible. You, meanwhile, are glued to the screen. “I’d rather not talk about this at a public event, so I’ll keep this brief. I met my soulmate during a party, and then the timer on my wrist stopped. That’s when I knew,” he shares.
“Go to hell,” Jeongin spites as he finally finds the remote and shuts the television off. “Don’t watch this shit.”
“It’s okay. It’s how things are supposed to be,” you respond flatly. Your best friend points at your fingers, which are balled into fists without you realizing. “I’m fine!” you convince him. “In fact, I’m glad I don’t have to see that goddamn timer ticking anymore. And going on dates in secret was such a pain in the ass.”
Throughout your 1-year relationship with Chan, you never felt at ease. Movies and novels always make having soulmates seem like something beautiful, but in fact, it’s a headache. Everyone in the whole world has different soulmate things. Some are color blind until they meet their soulmate, some has timers like Chan’s and some others have the first words their soulmates say to them inked on their arms. It can take someone years before they find their special one, and when they do, they’re willing to do anything to be with that person.
Technically, it wasn’t Chan fault that he left you for his soulmate, but everytime you recall the time he broke up with you, your blood boils.
All the beautiful memories, all the struggles you had overcome… everything meant nothing.
“Changbin’s coming in a minute,” Jeongin informs. “Have you thought about it yet?”
When you asked Jeongin to find you a quiet and responsible roommate, you didn’t mean Seo Changbin. It’s not that you two don’t get along, but Changbin has a tendency to be very snarky towards you and it’s kind of annoying (and intimidating, but you will never admit that). College and part-time job have made you tired enough, you don’t need to deal with a scowling Changbin and his sharp mouth when you get home. What surprises you more, however, is the fact that the boy approves of you.
“Don’t think too much,” Jeongin says as he wipes the counter table. “You want a quiet and responsible roommate, plus you don’t have to pay as much as you do now. Changbin fulfills both of your conditions, what else could you ask for?”
You put the last cheesecake inside the display counter, loving how fluffy and cheesy it looks. It also happens Changbin’s favorite menu, though he doesn’t strike you as someone who would love cheesecake. Great, out of all things, that’s what you remember about him? “What are Changbin’s conditions then?”
Someone enters the café, ending your conversation with Jeongin who quickly dashes back to his station, but not before whispering, “He just wants you.”
“Jeongin-ah I’m hungry!”
There’s still an hour before closing time, but all the customers have left and now there’s only Changbin on the table near the window, brainstorming for his screenplay. You heave a sigh and takes out a plate from the drawer. You’re the barista for today, why does he pretend like you don’t exist?
You put the plate on the table and ring the bell, causing Changbin to look up from his notebook. “Oh, it’s you, Y/N.” He gets up from his seat, approaching the counter while opening his wallet. “What do you want to eat?”
Changbin examines the display counter, frowning as he browses through the available menus. You notice him panicking a bit as he scans the second row. “I’ll take—”
“It’s okay,” you mutter. “Take your time. I won’t rush you.”
He slowly nods, continuing to read the cakes’ labels one by one before settling on his favorite menu.
“Are you sure you want me as your roommate?” you ask, putting the last slice of cheesecake on the plate. Changbin looks almost flustered, and you feel a bit proud of yourself. He always seems to be very in control of every aspect of his life, so seeing him a bit taken aback because of you feels satisfying.
Changbin starts slicing his cake, not bothering to return to his table. “I mean, why not?” he says. “I know you already and if Jeongin decides that you’re not crazy, then I believe him.”
“You feel that you know… me?”
He shrugs, lifting his eyebrows at the younger boy as the latter comes out from the pantry. “You’re Jeongin’s best friend, an English major, and he said you’re never late for anything—especially rent.”
“You hate morning shifts!” Jeongin shouts.
“You ranked first in your batch, right?” Changbin continues.
“Y/N hates bananas.”
“You love pizza—wait what you hate bananas?”
“I don’t hate them but bananas are definitely my least favorite.”
“Whoa that’s amazing.”
Changbin goes on to list everything he knows about you with Jeongin’s help, sometimes correcting each other although you’re still with them. You get to see Seo Changbin giggling for the first time, and maybe you want to see it more often.
“When are you going to move in?” he asks after helping Jeongin clean the tables. He’s back to the cool, almost cold Changbin, but you tell yourself to take the risk.
“How about this weekend?”
“Awesome.”
You plop yourself onto your bed, staring at the ceiling of your room that used to be Jeongin’s. It’s Saturday, but all you can think about is your reading assignment and other tasks. Changbin knocks on the slightly ajar door, carefully peeking inside.
“I ordered dinner,” he informs. “It’ll be here soon.”
It’s only been a few hours, but so far Changbin is much better than your old roommate. He helped you unpack quietly (he did make some hurtful comments about your dreamcatcher collection, but you could handle it), gave a space for your cactuses in the living room, and let you decide the menu for dinner.
The bell rings soon after, and now both of you are enjoying a pot of kimchi jjigae. “Are you sad that Jeongin’s not here anymore?” you attempt to start a conversation. Changbin snorts, glancing around the flat. “I’m glad he’s not here anymore,” he answers in a fake mocking tone. “He always wakes me up too early.”
You nod, remembering the painful memory that is your school retreat back in fifth grade. Jeongin was the dorm leader and he forced everyone to sleep early only to wake all of you an hour earlier. “I hope his soulmate will be able to live with that,” you laugh.
Changbin’s ears perk up at the word soulmate, clearing his throat as you look at him in confusion. “You’re still here,” you point out. “I figure you haven’t met your soulmate yet?”
He shakes his head nonchalantly, slurping his soup in one go. Love is probably too lame for Changbin, and while you’re never really obsessed in finding your true love yourself, his response makes you feel like someone pricks your heart with a needle. “Never really tried looking for them, to be honest. How about you?”
“You mean, do I want to find my soulmate?
Changbin places his bowl back to the table, his lips a bit red due to the spicy soup, and you almost want to laugh. “The idea of having a soulmate is beautiful, I suppose,” you answer. “But I’m fine with the way things are now, it’s not like I’m desperate or something. We’re still young anyways.”
“Do you believe in it? That there’s someone in this world who’s specially meant for you and only you?”
His question intrigue your interest; you’ve never met someone who’s doubting the concept of soulmates. But then again, this is Changbin. He’s the only person you know who has never asked about your soulmate bond. “Well, people do meet their soulmates, don’t they? I guess I’ve never had a chance to doubt it, because it’s there. People have soulmates, it happens.”
“There’s one thing that’s been bothering me for quite a while, though,” you add. Changbin sits up straighter at your statement, and suddenly you wonder if it’s a good idea to tell him. You never share this with anyone—not even Jeongin—because you don’t want to be such a killjoy. Besides, you know how their reaction will be: they’ll think you’re a pathetic pessimist who probably will never meet your soulmate.
“You can trust me.” His voice sounds light, but the weight in his words feel real. Changbin flashes you one of his rare smiles (you’re pretty sure you saw it on his birthday last year) and you gain a surge of confidence.
“Do couples simply love each other because they’re soulmates?” Your voice is almost a whisper, but Changbin raises his eyebrow, encouraging you to continue. “Having opinion is not a crime, Y/N. What are you so afraid for?” he deadpans, but his gaze remains warm and it kind of messes with your whole system.
“I mean, a lot of us date other people before meeting our soulmates,” you continue. “It’s like, you have feelings for one person, but all of those feelings vanish just like that when you meet your soulmates. How is that possible? Are you being with your soulmate because you love them? Or do you love them simply because they’re your soulmate?”
You’re met with silence as Changbin only stares at you in… awe? That’s probably not it but you swear to God his eyes twinkle, boring into yours and making you blush due to the intensity. You almost feel disappointed when he tears his eyes away from you before gathering the empty plates.
“Let me wash the dishes tonight. This is your housewarming gift,” he mumbles, heading to the sink. You watch his back in silence, slowly falling asleep to the sound of his humming and the water. As you’re about to close your eyes, he looks over his shoulder.
“What’s your soulmate thing?” he asks.
“Soulmate thing?”
“Shit, I forgot the term—the one sign that makes you realize that you’ve met your soulmate.”
You give him a sleepy smile, closing your eyes when he starts humming again. Gotta ask what that song is later.
“Once my soulmate tells me they love me, I’ll stop having nightmares.”
You want to ask Changbin what his soulmate bond is, but sleep has taken over you before you can voice it out.
What Seo Changbin knows about the world is the fact that nothing is certain. Sure, the Sun rises in the East and the Earth is round, but what about the other things? The human beings? He’s seen so many people walked out of his life, he’s witnessed the most hurtful lies and changes.
Changbin has seen enough to know that trust is overrated. You can’t trust anyone, not even your loyal pet. What happened last night, though, was beyond his imagination. Him telling you that you could trust him?
He was so close to take back what he said, but seeing the tiny sparks of hope and confidence in your eyes made his heart do somersaults. God, if only you knew how much power you have over him…
“It’s barely 10AM and you’re already being productive.” Your voice greets him, snapping him out of his daydream. “What are you working on?” you ask, pouring fresh milk into your glass. Changbin collects all his papers as you sit beside him.
“Sorry for all the mess,” he apologizes. “Jeongin and I never used this table so I always work here.”
You shake your head, glancing at his laptop screen before suddenly pulling away, as if you just did something inappropriate. “No, it’s okay, you can see,” he quickly says, sliding his laptop to you. Changbin suddenly recalls all the moments he shoved Jeongin away because he hates it when people read his stuff before it’s finished.
You’ve been here for less than 2 days but he’s already breaking so many of his own rules.
“Yeah. My graduation project. My ride or die.”
Changbin is lost in his own world after that. You’re still sitting there, debating with yourself if you should stay. Roommate-Changbin may still intimidate you, but Director-Changbin only excites you. You want to know what’s on his mind, how he pours his questions and views about the world into his films.
You don’t notice that he’s stopped typing and is now watching you. “Y/N? You’re still here?”
“O-oh!” you yelp, instantly regretting the shock in your voice. “I’m just wondering…” you trail off.
“Yeah?” Changbin waits for you patiently, holding your gaze.
“Can I watch you work? I promise I’ll stay quiet.”
“I started writing this 3 years ago,” Changbin shares. “Somehow I could never writing the perfect ending, nothing felt right. I thought maybe I should use this as my graduation project.” He laughs, “So I could force myself to end the story.”
“What is it about?”
Changbin doesn’t answer you right away, staring at his laptop screen instead. He thinks long and hard—something he does often that infuriates Jeongin, but you’ve come to appreciate it. “Loneliness. Cliché, I know, and that’s why I’ve been struggling.”
He stops to take another sip of his coffee. “About whether it’s better to just be alone.”
“I don’t think it’s cliché,” you reply. “It’s something everyone has to deal with for the rest of their lives. It’s familiar. Important.”
“That’s exactly why I don’t know how to end it!”
“Then just say so.”
Changbin shakes his head before deleting a whole paragraph he previously typed. “That’s not how it’s supposed to be. People want answers.”
That shuts you up. You may be an English major, but this is Changbin’s field. And it’s his work, not yours. “Sorry. I crossed the line, didn’t I?”
“Nonono, you’re right,” he mutters. “Maybe I should try.”
“No, Changbin, this is just my opinion. You don’t need to—“
“And do you want to be the main character? I think you understand the material well, and this role suits you.”
Rejection is already on the tip of your tongue, but the way Changbin’s eyes twinkle is clouding your brain. He continues to stare at you as you’re debating with yourself, and when you meet his eyes, you melt. The cool, almost cold Seo Changbin is asking you for a favor, and while you’re not obligated to fulfill his wishes just because he’s suddenly nice to you… you want to.
He yells when you finally give him a firm nod, averting his eyes back to his laptop. “Don’t worry, I’ll help you with everything. I’ll finish this soon, okay?”
Once again you can only nod, admiring the small smile on his lips.
“You agreed to what?!” Jeongin shouts, resulting in you smacking his lips with your hand. “Shut the hell up we’re in the library!” you hissed as you bow in apology to all the people sending you death glares.
“Just man up and admit that you’re so whipped for Seo Changbin!” Jeongin has closed his book and is now trying to close yours as well. “Come on, tell me the details! All the embarrassing cheesy details!” he pesters.
The librarian has cleared her throat thrice in the past 5 minutes and you’re sure that means you’re going to get kicked out soon. You sigh at Jeongin, who takes this as a sign that you want to leave. He gladly put all your things back into your bag, dragging you out of the library with a satisfied smirk playing on his lips.
You don’t know if you like Changbin. Maybe you do, but maybe you’re just missing the feeling of having someone. “I don’t know,” you mumble, sitting on the bench across the library. “Everytime I think about Chan I still want to cry, I still want to curse the hell out of him for ending things a day after he told me that he loved me.”
“Maybe things are going to be different this time,” Jeongin tells you. “Try to see him as Seo Changbin, not as the next Bang Chan.”
“Once you do, you’ll be able to see Changbin clearly.”
Everything has started to feel lighter.
You never remember your nightmares anymore even though you’re well aware that you still get them. And you have someone to go home with after your classes or your shift at the café now that you live with Changbin. Jeongin never shuts up about it, constantly pointing out that Changbin likes you better than him because he’s always with you.
And tonight is no exception.
“Hyung, why are you still here?” he asks, pretending to be curious.
“I’m working, leave me alone,” the older boy says flatly, not even glancing up from his laptop.
“Oh Y/N you’re done?!”Jeongin exclaims.
Changbin quickly closes his laptop, searching for you before he realizes that his friend is messing around with him. Jeongin laughs hard, patting Changbin’s shoulder as he dashes to you. “Finish up quickly, your boyfriend is waiting for you!”
“You’re such a dumbass,” you retort, wiping the counter one last time. You glance at Changbin who’s now looking at you, his lips curling into a soft smile when your eyes meet. Sometimes you really think that he’s into you, and you can never get used to that.
“I’m done anyways,” you inform. Jeongin’s phone buzzes, his face lights up as the name of his soulmate rolls out of his lips. He gives both of you a quick wave and leaves as you lock the door. You chuckle at the sight of Jeongin running to the bus stop. “He’s so in love.”
“He smiles all the time now it’s scary,” Changbin adds.
“Well I guess that’s the magic of being with someone you love.” you mumble. “And being with someone who loves you.”
Changbin’s breath hitches at your statement, causing you to eye him. “What?” you ask.
“Nothing,” he answers. “Have you ever wondered where your soulmate is?”
No matter how much Changbin has changed around you, hearing him talk about soulmates is still one of the weirdest things ever. You two can talk about anything, except this. The whole soulmate talk always reminds you that he’s not yours, that whatever you have now will end when he finds his soulmate or when you find yours.
“Of course. Especially because of the nightmares,” you admit. “But then I realized that I was looking for my soulmate with the wrong purpose. I mean, you shouldn’t want to find your soulmate just because you want your problems solved, right?”
“Are you still talking to Bang Chan?”
Besides Jeongin and Changbin, no one else knows about you and Chan. When you just started dating, Jeongin asked so many things about him, but Changbin never said anything. Not even a congratulation.
“How do you know that we broke up?”
You wince as soon as that question rolls out of your mouth. “Fuck. Of course you do. He got married.”
“Sorry,” he sighs. “Forget it.”
“No, it’s fine,” you interject. “Why did you ask?”
“I saw him picking you up at campus once. It was already super late,” Changbin reveals. “He was dressed in all black—with mask, cap and all that… celebrities-in-disguise attire.” You chuckle at his choice of words, causing his cheeks to slowly turn pinkish.
“You could barely did anything freely, yet you looked happy Y/N,” he continues. There’s a long silence afterwards as because you can’t figure out whether he could possibly mean. With each day you spend together, you feel his wall crumbling. You love it so much that you’re afraid one small mistake will destroy everything.
Changbin takes a deep breath, biting his lip as you finally have enough courage to look into his eyes. “What can I do to make you smile like that?” His whisper is soft but determined. Genuine.
Right in this moment, something in your heart clicks. Seo Changbin has you under his spell, enticing you with his words, his action, his heart.
“Can you sleep with me tonight?” you blurt out.
“Excuse me?!”
“Not like that,” you laugh. “Just stay until I’m asleep. Maybe the nightmares will be less scary.”
They won’t, but you’re not planning to tell him that.
You just want to see him as you fall asleep.
“Don’t you want to sit here?” you offer, patting the empty space beside you. Changbin smiles from his spot on the floor, right beside the bedside table. “I want you to sleep well Y/N. The two of us won’t fit in there,” he politely rejects although his brain is screaming at him to take the offer. There’s nothing he wants more than wrapping his arms around you and hugging you tight all night, whispering pretty words in your ear all night long so you will see rainbows in your dream, but maybe he still needs to wait.
Or he can just say that he loves you now.
“Good night, Changbin. Thank you for doing this.”
“Anything for you.”
“Don’t say things like that.”
“I’m not taking it back, though,” he singsongs. “Sweet dreams, Y/N.”
You grin, wrapping yourself with your blanket. “I’ll try.”
A few hours later, you wake up with a jolt, panting hard as the horror of the nightmare you just had leaving you. After downing a glass of water on the bedside table, you try to recall what you dreamed of. It’s strange, you think to yourself. Back then, one nightmare could haunt you for weeks, but now you forget everything as soon as you wake up.
“Y/N? Are you okay?”
Changbin rushes to you, cupping your cheeks to examine your face. “Ch-Changbin,” you mumble, eyes widening as you realize how comforting his touch is. It makes you feel like you’re floating, before landing on fluffy clouds. You feel lightheaded, and the way he looks at you doesn’t help at all.
“Did you have a nightmare?” he panics. Changbin circles his arms around your shoulders when you nod. You’ve never had a sweet dream, let alone dreaming of Changbin, but if this is a dream then you don’t want to wake up. Ever.
He envelops your entire body with his arms as he presses feathery kisses on your exposed shoulder. “I hate seeing you like this,” he says again. From the tone of his voice, you know that he’s frowning. “What’s going on, Changbin?”
Changbin pulls back, eyes holding your gaze like you’re the one he longs to see. “I love you,” he states.
You prompt yourself to wake up before this dream overtakes your reality, but everything stays the same and now Changbin intertwines your fingers with his.
“Are you sure?” you croak, gripping his fingers.
Changbin dips his head to press his lips onto yours, pulling you into his embrace as he pours all the love and adoration he has for you into the kiss. He kisses you slowly but firmly, nibbling your bottom lip when you curl your arms around his neck. Changbin chases your lips when you pull away, whining when you stop him from placing another searing kiss on your lips.
“I need to tell you something first,” you mutter, lips trembling. “Once I decide to love I don’t hold back, Changbin. I don’t hesitate, and honestly I don’t know if I’ll be ready to hit the brake when we reach the dead end because it’s you and—”
Changbin cradles your cheeks in his hands again, shaking his head as he peppers passionate kisses all over your face. “Please don’t hold back,” he says, almost begging. “Love me. Love me however you want to, okay? Because I don’t want to hold back either. You mean everything to me.”
You’ve got to be dreaming, you must be. Your feelings for Changbin are too strong that for once, you’re having a sweet dream. The sweetest dream. Universe is giving you a chance to live your wishes and in the midst of ghosts, murders, airplane crashes and death. Seo Changbin is here and says that you’ll be able to bask in the warmth of his skin and the fiery touch of his fingers whenever you want to.
But his grip on your waist feels too real and the loving gaze in his eyes feels too hard to resist. “You’re not dreaming,” he tells you, reading your mind and crushing your doubts.
“Can I stay here? Please? I want to hold you,” he asks, almost begging. You nod, your eyes feel heavy as Changbin kisses your cheek.
“What happened to Mr. Oh-Y/N-we-won’t-fit-in-there?” you tease, burying your face in the crook of his neck, his shy laugh being the last thing you hear before falling into deep slumber.
It’s been 10 minutes since you woke up, and you don’t understand what’s happening. Changbin is still sleeping beside you, his arm curling around your waist loosely. Waking up next to him is something you’ll need to get used to, but there’s another thing that makes you wide awake at 6AM.
You stopped having nightmares.
Carefully, you remove Changbin’s arm from your waist before shaking his shoulder. “Changbin,” you call out, smile dancing on your lips as he blinks. “Hmmmm,” he hums. “Good morning, babe.”
You try to ignore your burning cheeks and pulls him up instead. “I didn’t have any nightmare,” you announce as he sits up, his hair sticking out in various directions. “Changbin, I’m serious,” you demand when he fails to respond. “What’s your soulmate bond? Is it just me or are we really… soulmates?”
There’s a tension in the air before Changbin starts sniffling. You quickly climb into his lap, taking him into your arms as he starts sobbing and mouthing words you can’t make out. “Hey, what’s wrong?” you question.
“My soulmate bond is I’ll only be able to cry after touching my soulmate,” he says, smiling softly when your hand comes into contact with his cheeks, wiping his tears. You start to tear up as well; everything must have been suffocating for him. He had to bottle up all his feelings inside, not having the privilege to let everything out while it’s easy for everybody else.
“I can call you a crybaby now, huh?” you joke, pressing kisses on the top of his head.
Changbin nips your collarbone in return, your heart soars when you feel him smile against your skin. “You can dream of me every night now, huh?”
You never have any nightmare again, but nothing beats waking up in Changbin’s embrace and knowing that you don’t have to say goodbye to him.
Beaches are scary at night and the chilly weather only makes it worse. You watch Changbin walking around to thank his crew one by one, including Jeongin whom you dragged out of his flat at 2AM to become a replacement for Changbin’s boom operator that bowed out last minute. Your best friend waves you goodbye from afar, his red hair is the only thing you can see.
The beach is now empty, leaving only you and Changbin as the wind gets harsher. “You did well,” he praises, intertwining your hands together. “I only did this for you,” you answer. “After today I realized acting is not my thing.”
He bows at you. “I feel honored.”
You laugh; after everything that’s happened it’s still somehow satisfying to see him say sweet things to you. The cool, almost cold Changbin is long gone—now he’s your Binnie Binnie Changbinnie who whines when you leave bed too early or come home too late.
“Y/NNNNNN.” And here he goes again.
“What?”
“Why won’t you ever tie your shoelaces properly? I taught you the double knot before!”
You give him a playful “tsk,” sitting down on the soft sand to do the double knot exactly the way he showed you. Changbin watches you with amusement, guiding your fingers everytime you make a wrong loop. “Sometimes I wonder how we would find out we’re soulmates if I didn’t tell you my soulmate bond,” you murmur.
“I would’ve told you that I love you any other way. It doesn’t matter,” he responds. “I only wish I said it sooner.”
“Did you mean it?”
“That I love you? Of course, why would you think otherwise?”
You shrug. “I don’t know how this works. Do you just have to say it? Or do you have to really mean it?”
“Haven’t those before me told you that they loved you?”
“Those? There were only 2 before you,” you share. “And yes, they told me that. Nothing happened.”
Changbin closes the gap between you, gripping your waist a bit tighter than usual and pressing his lips on yours a bit harder. You bite your bottom lip after he releases you, causing him to frown. “I love you,” he says, tugging your lip with his thumb before replacing it with his lips once again. Both of you are gasping for air when he pulls away, but this time you smile at him.
“I mean it,” Changbin tells you firmly. “Don’t ever question that. Now let’s get you home, you’re freezing.”
“Have you asked your uncle if we can stay in his place?”
You and Changbin are cuddled up in bed, planning your upcoming trip to Daegu to celebrate your birthday. “I forgot!” you gasp, noting it down on Changbin’s favorite notebook. You flip the page to write some other things, but the page isn’t empty. The whole page is full of Changbin’s notes—messy and confusing.
Aug 11 – I cried (around 10PM)
Aug 12 – Should I tell Y/N?
Oct 2 – Y/N moved in
Oct 30 – I’m not sure… a good listener, makes me laugh…
Nov 4 – asked about soulmates. asked about my movies à amazing answers.
Jan 10 – i love them….?
Feb 11 – tell Y/N you love them (what will happen…?)
“Changbin what the hell is this?”
Changbin looks up from his phone, resting his head on your shoulder to see what you’re reading. His face hardens the moment he realizes what you’ve discovered. He snatches the notebook away and rips that certain page, throwing it into the trashcan.
“Answer me, Changbin. What did I just read?”
“I swear to God it means nothing, okay?”
You really hate this conversation. It sounds like the typical romance movie where your lover insists that everything’s fine when it isn’t. You don’t want to end up questioning Changbin for the rest of your life, but you love him too much to let him go.
“You knew right from the start that I’m your soulmate.”
He reaches for your hand, and at times like this you hate how much he affects you. “You’re right. I knew.”
“And then you decided to test me,” you reply. “For what? So you could judge if I deserved your love? If I deserved you?”
“I didn’t test you!” he half-yells. You remove your hand from his and stands up. Your eyes meet your photos together he’s pinned to his wall, the most recent one is from yesterday. Changbin smiles in every single photo, arms wrapped around your shoulders or your waist. Seeing the little corner he dedicates for both of you always warms your heart, but now you’re not sure about anything anymore.
Changbin follows your gaze, smiling fondly at the memories before darting his eyes back to you. “I didn’t mean to test you. I just wanted to know if soulmates are real—if there’s really one person in this big, big world that’s meant for me.”
“But I just realized that to you, that was a test.”
“There’s a line between getting to know each other and testing each other, Changbin. The fact that you purposely hid this from me then asked me to be your roommate so you’d be able to ‘grade’ me… that shit hurts,” you admit.
You sigh when Changbin doesn’t respond, turning around to return to your own room. “What happens when someone separates from their soulmate?” you ask softly, turning the door knob.
“I won’t be happy ever again Y/N,” he rasps. “You know that.”
Changbin trails behind you as you’re walking back to your room. He grabs your hand when you’re about to close the door. “You can’t expect me to be okay, Changbin,” you state. “I want to be alone.”
“I know,” he answers. “But—”
“Good night.”
You sleep well without any problem now, but tonight is the worst night you’ve ever had in your entire life. There’s no nightmare, only reality.
Changbin didn’t mean to lie.
He had a quite difficult past due to his inability to express his feelings well. His parents had tried everything: meditation, medication, therapy… you name it, but nothing cured him. He was longing for that one release and spent his whole life trying to channel his anger and frustration into something that didn’t scream scary to no avail.
Filmmaking helped him, but not enough. His parents bought him his own place when he was 15 because they were—in his brother’s words—“are tired of your shit” and his brother stopped talking to him the moment he moved out. In the end, Changbin gave up. He shut everybody out, never tried giving anybody his time of the day because he knew how everything would turn out.
He decided to rent a new place after high school and got Jeongin as his roommate. Jeongin brought him to you, and then everything changed. Changbin didn’t care whether he would finally be able to cry or not—he just wanted to be with you.
Somehow, along the way, he screwed everything up. As usual.
He scrambles to get up when he hears the door opens, hoping it will be you.
“What the fuck happened?”
It’s Jeongin, but Changbin is still thankful.
“You know what Y/N has gone through yet you still did that?” Jeongin spites, dropping a box of pizza on the table. “And you lied to me!”
“Sorry.”
Jeongin sighs. “I thought you would treat Y/N better than any other man because you’ve been through the same thing, but you dared to test someone who constantly questions whether it’s possible for them to be loved without the soulmate label? I don’t get it.”
“I know it was a bad idea, but I wanted to be sure, Jeongin. I want—”
“Save it,” Jeongin cuts him off. “Y/N is the one who needs to hear this, not me.”
“Will you forgive me, though?”
Changbin is prepared for a “fuck you” and punch on his face, but Jeongin only walks to the door. “I’m Yang Jeongin. I’m not your parents, I’m not your brother. I’m your best friend,” he prompts.
“And Y/N is your soulmate.”
There’s something different about today. Is it the way the sun shines on your shoes? The way people dress? The way the stray cats in front the café greet you? You’ve made a list of things that may have caused you to feel different, happier, but you can’t find it.
Whatever it is, your list certainly doesn’t include Seo Changbin standing in front of you, casually ordering Americano and cheesecake. You enter his orders in silence as he’s handing you his card. Jeongin is cleaning the display counter, unusually silent although you attempt to make a conversation with him. When he looks up, he gives you a look that screams, “I have nothing to do with this!”
Jeongin puts a cup of hot Americano on the table, smirking when Changbin protests that it’s way too hot. “I ordered a Hot Americano, not So Fucking Hot Americano,” he says sourly. The younger boy shrugs. “You should’ve told me you were coming.”
“Why? So you could—”
“Guys the line is getting long,” you cut them off. Changbin grabs his tray, looking at you with a stare that reminds you of the day he asked you to be in his graduation project. “Can we talk later? I’ll wait,” he asks.
After your shift ends, you’re walking around your neighborhood with Changbin who insists to take you home. You’re able to converse like normal although you expected things to be incredibly awkward between the two of you, especially after that day when you moved out and he just helped you pack your things, no words spoken.
You didn’t say goodbye, but maybe you have a chance to now.
“So when’s the drama going to air?”
Changbin takes a deep breath, counting days with his fingers. “Around next week? I’m nervous as hell. I’ve never been involved in a production this big.”
“What’s the title of the drama again?”
“Arthdal Chronicles! I met Song Joongki, Jang Donggun and Kim Jiwon! How cool is that?” he boasts. Listening to Changbin talk about his projects never fails to bring smile to your lips. At times like this, he only cares about what he loves and sees just that. He doesn’t hesitate, he doesn’t think too much, he doesn’t control himself.
He glows.
“Hey Y/N.” Changbin grasps your wrist, gaze falling on your untied shoelaces. All the memories of him nagging at you to tie your shoelaces flood your mind and you have to do something, anything, before you fall apart.
You miss Changbin. You miss waking up to his sleeping face in the morning. You miss the way he looks at you when you praise him. You miss his beautiful voice lulling you to sleep. You miss taking him into your embrace whenever he cries, convincing him that he’s free to pour out his feelings now.
You love him—like soulmates do.
Crouching down, you connect the laces together, ready to do the first step. But Changbin stops you, completing the knot swiftly as you stare at him. When he looks up, his eyes are already glazed with tears. “I want you back,” he states.
His gaze becomes apologetic when he feels your body freeze, but he quickly wraps his hands around yours when you want to run away. “I let my doubts against the world overpower me. I spent so many years looking for answers to convince myself that not everything is bleak, yet I let the darkness consumed me,” Changbin says.
“You’re the warmest, brightest light I’ve ever encountered but I failed to see that. And I’m sorry.”
He pulls you up, wiping your tears you didn’t know you shed. Changbin takes a step closer, cupping your face softly. “Fuck soulmates, I don’t care about that. I’m goddamn lucky that you really are mine, but even if you weren’t, I would still choose you.”
“And I can’t believe there’s a day when I’m gonna be the one saying this, but we can take things slow. As slow as you want.” Changbin gives you a small smile when you finally look him in the eyes. He’s awaken all kinds of feelings inside you, even the ones you didn’t know exist, but there’s only thing you can identify now: yearn.
Changbin lets himself cry when you decide to circle your arms around his neck. “I know this is too much to ask,” he sobs. “But I just want you to know that I want to love you right. I didn’t have a chance to show you that yet, and it’s all my fault.”
You shake your head. “It’s my fault too. I only cared about my fears. I forgot about yours.”
Your soulmate sobs even harder at your answer, only calming down when you start running your hand through his hair. “You’re such a crybaby,” you murmur against his neck as he returns your hug, laughing at your favorite nickname for him.
Enveloped by Changbin’s warmth, you feel something you’ve never felt before. The feeling of being able to love someone without thinking about how things are supposed to be, without hesitation, without limits.
You realize how beautiful it feels to be able to love someone right.
EPILOGUE
“Happy birthday, stupid!” Jeongin yells at Changbin’s face, shoving as sloppily decorated birthday cake into the birthday boy’s hands. Changbin stares at it in mild disgust as you exit the counter, placing a black box wrapped with a white ribbon on the table. “I clearly told Jeongin to just buy you a cake. I’m not claiming that,” you explain. “But what’s done is done. Happy birthday, Changbin!”
You take a step forward to pat his back. A little awkward, but it’s enough to cause Changbin’s insides to flip. You remember his birthday and actually bought him something; he can just cry now.
Wait.
The unfamiliar sensation in his body is almost too overwhelming for him to handle, so he runs to the restroom, leaving you and Jeongin behind. He barely reaches the restroom’s handle when his legs give up. Soon, he’s crying silently, tears keep rolling down his cheeks no matter what he does to stop them.
Crying feels horrible, Changbin thinks, but it also feels wonderful. Liberating.
And he realizes that he’s already fallen in love with you even before he found out that you’re soulmates.
Changbin hates clichés, but he wouldn’t have things any other way. Now he just needs to figure out how to tell you.
yeah, i know i probably made soulmate au lost its magic but honestly those are the questions that i have in my mind everytime i wonder how it’ll be like if the system is real (curse me and my incredible talent to overthink). to everyone who’s finding love out there, you are loved. maybe you haven’t met the right person now, but you will!
Bang Chan x Female Brazilian Music Producer
Fluff/smut
“Love’s the best producer. It samples silence, mixes truth… and never lets the track die.”
Lee Know — COMING SOON
Changbin — Mines and love.
Changbin x Male brazilian farm boy
Fluff/angst/smut
Exhausted by the relentless pace of idol life, Changbin of Stray Kids escapes to a quiet farm in Brazil’s Minas Gerais, seeking solace in the rolling hills and slow rhythms of Fazenda Esperança.
Hyunjin — COMING SOON
Han — Chamego or 포근함?
Han x Female Brazilian producer
Fluff/smut
Amidst sun-soaked days of churrasco feasts and samba rhythms, sparks fly between the coordinator and Han Jisung, the group’s quick-witted lyricist, whose shy glances hide a crush.
words・5.5k /pairings・Chanbin x reader / genres・fluff, angst / warnings・ mentions of depression.
You've been friends with Chanbin from Stray Kids for quite a while now. Your paths crossed unexpectedly, intertwining your lives in a beautiful symphony of friendship and shared passion. You, a renowned photographer, capturing moments frozen in time, and him, a charismatic KPop idol, captivating hearts with his mesmerizing talent.
Through late-night conversations and spontaneous adventures, you discovered the beauty of friendship in its purest form - a bond forged in the crucible of shared experiences and unwavering trust. Whether it was exploring hidden gems in the city or simply basking in the quiet moments of companionship, you and Chanbin found refuge in each other's company, a sanctuary amidst the chaos of fame and recognition.
As the years passed and your careers soared to new heights, the foundation of your friendship remained unshakeable, a constant reminder of the power of connection in a world driven by superficiality. And as you stood side by side, gazing at the horizon of endless possibilities, you knew that no matter where life's journey took you, Chanbin would always be more than just a friend - he would be a beacon of light guiding you through the darkest of nights, a testament to the enduring power of friendship in the ever-changing landscape of fame and fortune.
*days full of laughter*
As you walk into the cozy café, the familiar sight of Chanbin greets you with a warm smile. He waves you over to the corner booth, where he's already seated, a cup of steaming coffee in hand.
"Hey, [Your Name], So glad you could make it," Chanbin exclaims, his eyes lighting up with genuine excitement.
"Hi, Chanbin! Wouldn't miss it for the world," you reply, sliding into the seat opposite him.
The air fills with laughter as memories flood back, reminding you of all the times Chanbin was there for you through thick and thin.
"So, what's new with you?" Chanbin asks, leaning in with genuine interest.
You chuckle, knowing there's always something interesting to share when Chanbin's around. "Oh, you know, the usual. Just wrapped up a big photoshoot downtown. It was intense, but we got some incredible shots."
Chanbin's eyes widen with curiosity. "I bet! Your work is always top-notch. Any sneak peeks you can show me?"
You reach for your phone, scrolling through the gallery until you find the perfect shot. "Here you go! Check this out. I managed to capture the essence of the city at sunset. It's like magic."
Chanbin's expression lights up as he studies the photo, nodding in approval. "Wow, that's amazing! You've really outdone yourself this time."
The conversation flows effortlessly as you reminisce about past adventures and shared experiences. Each anecdote brings a wave of laughter, filling the air with an infectious energy that's impossible to resist.
Suddenly, Chanbin's phone buzzes with a notification, and he lets out a laugh as he reads the message. "Oh man, you won't believe what just happened. Remember that time we got lost trying to find that hidden karaoke bar?"
You burst into laughter, the memory flooding back in vivid detail. "How could I forget? We wandered around for hours, only to end up singing our hearts out in that tiny little room."
Chanbin grins, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "Good times, Sunshine. Good times."
As the afternoon stretches into evening, you realize just how lucky you are to have Chanbin by your side. Through the laughter and the tears, the highs and the lows, he's always been there for you, a constant source of joy and inspiration.
And as you raise your glasses in a toast to friendship, you know that no matter what the future holds, Chanbin will always be more than just a friend – he'll be family.
*days where he felt overwhelmed*
As you open the door to your house, you're met with the sight of Chanbin standing on your doorstep, his shoulders slumped and his expression weary. You can see the weight of his hectic schedule written across his face, and it breaks your heart to see him so overwhelmed.
"Hey, Binnie," you say softly, stepping aside to let him in. "Come on in. I'm glad you're here."
Chanbin offers a tired smile as he steps into the warmth of your home. "Thanks, Sunshine. Sorry for showing up unannounced. I just needed to get away from everything for a bit."
You shake your head, understanding flooding your heart. "No need to apologize. You're always welcome here. Let's get you settled."
As you lead Chanbin to the living room, you can see the tension slowly melting away from his features. He sinks into the couch with a grateful sigh, his exhaustion evident in every line of his body.
"So, how's everything going?" you ask gently, taking a seat beside him.
Chanbin lets out a heavy sigh, running a hand through his hair. "Honestly, it's been crazy. Between rehearsals, interviews, and all the other stuff going on, I feel like I'm drowning in my own schedule."
Your heart goes out to him, knowing how hard he works to pursue his passion. "I can't even imagine. But hey, you're not alone in this. I'm here for you, okay?"
Chanbin's eyes meet yours, gratitude shining in their depths. "Thanks, Sunshine. I really appreciate it."
Determined to lighten the mood, you rack your brain for something to lift Chanbin's spirits. Suddenly, an idea strikes you.
"How about we forget about schedules and responsibilities for a while?" you suggest, a spark of excitement igniting within you. "Let's order some takeout, binge-watch your favorite K-drama, and just relax."
A hint of a smile tugs at the corners of Chanbin's lips. "That sounds amazing, actually. I could definitely use a break."
Together, you order food and settle in for a cozy evening of laughter and relaxation. As the hours pass, the weight of Chanbin's worries seems to fade away, replaced by the simple joy of being in the moment with a friend.
As you bid Chanbin goodbye later that evening, you can see a lightness in his step that wasn't there before. And as you watch him disappear into the night, you know that no matter what challenges lie ahead, you'll always be there to support him, one Netflix binge at a time.
*days with subtle confessions*
As you and Chanbin sit on the bench, the evening breeze carries a sense of calmness, wrapping around you like a comforting embrace. The sun's golden rays cast a warm glow over the serene lake, painting the sky in hues of orange and pink.
"You know, moments like these make all the chaos in the world seem insignificant," Chanbin muses, his gaze fixed on the tranquil waters.
You nod in agreement, feeling a surge of gratitude for the simplicity of the moment. "Absolutely. It's moments like these that remind us of what truly matters."
There's a pause in the conversation, a fleeting moment of silence that speaks volumes. In the stillness of the evening, you feel a tug at your heartstrings, an unspoken connection that binds you to Chanbin in ways words could never express.
As you watch the sun dip lower on the horizon, casting long shadows across the landscape, Chanbin turns to you, his eyes reflecting the fading light.
"[Your name], I've always felt... at ease when I'm with you," he says softly, his words carrying a weight that lingers in the air.
You meet his gaze, feeling a rush of emotions welling up inside you. In that moment, it's as if time stands still, suspended in the space between heartbeats.
"I know what you mean." you reply, your voice barely above a whisper. "Being with you... it just feels right."
A gentle smile spreads across Chanbin's face, a silent acknowledgment of the bond that exists between you. In the quiet intimacy of the evening, your unspoken confession hangs in the air, unnoticed by the world around you but felt deeply in the depths of your souls.
And as you sit together, basking in the fading light of the day, you know that some truths are best left unsaid, hidden in the subtle nuances of a shared moment that speaks volumes without uttering a single word.
*days where you would give in his wishes*
Chanbin bursts into your living room with an exuberant grin, a gym bag slung over his shoulder. "Hey there, Sunshine! Ready for a workout?"
You stare at him in disbelief, your mind still groggy from the early hour. "Chanbin, are you serious? It's 8 a.m."
He waves off your protests with a playful smirk. "Come on! It'll be fun, I promise. Plus, it's a great way to start the day."
You sigh, knowing there's no arguing with Chanbin when he's set his mind to something. "Fine, but only because you're so persistent."
With a triumphant grin, Chanbin leads the way out the door, his energy infectious even in the early hours of the morning.
As you step into the gym, the sound of weights clanging and music blaring assaults your senses. Chanbin seems right at home, chatting with the regulars and setting up equipment with practiced ease.
You hang back, feeling out of place amidst the sea of toned bodies and bustling activity. But as you watch Chanbin move with grace and determination, a warmth fills your heart.
"Come here, [Your name]. Let's start with some light stretching," Chanbin calls out, beckoning you over to join him.
Reluctantly, you follow his lead, the movements feeling awkward and unfamiliar at first. But as Chanbin guides you through the exercises, his touch gentle and reassuring, you begin to relax into the rhythm of the workout.
With each stretch and lift, you feel your muscles awaken, a sense of strength and vitality coursing through your veins. And as you steal glances at Chanbin, his determination and passion evident in every movement, you realize something surprising.
You're actually enjoying yourself.
As the workout comes to an end, you're surprised to find yourself feeling invigorated and alive, the rush of endorphins leaving you buzzing with energy.
"See? I told you it would be fun," Chanbin says, his smile wide and infectious.
You can't help but return his grin, feeling a sense of gratitude for his unwavering enthusiasm and encouragement.
"Thanks, Binnie. I needed that more than I realized," you admit, your voice filled with sincerity.
Chanbin's smile softens, a warmth in his eyes that speaks volumes. "Anytime, Sunshine. You know I'll always be here to drag you to the gym kicking and screaming if I have to."
As you and Chanbin head home, the sun rising in the sky and the world coming alive around you, you can't help but feel grateful for the unexpected moments of joy and connection that he brings into your life.
*days like shit that end up good*
You trudge through the door, the weight of the day's failures heavy on your shoulders. The failed photoshoot, the malfunctioning camera, and the lingering feeling of inadequacy weigh on your mind like a suffocating blanket.
Just as you're about to sink onto the couch, you freeze in your tracks. There, in the dimly lit room, stands Chanbin, a small cake adorned with flickering candles in his hands.
"Surprise!" he exclaims, his voice filled with genuine excitement.
You blink in disbelief, your tired mind struggling to process the unexpected sight before you. "Chanbin, what... what's all this?"
Chanbin's smile widens, his eyes alight with mischief. "Well, I know you're not a big fan of birthdays, but I couldn't let the day pass without doing something special for you."
Your heart swells with gratitude, a warm feeling spreading through your chest despite the heaviness of the day. "Chanbin, I... I don't know what to say."
"You don't have to say anything, [Your name]. Just blow out the candles and make a wish," Chanbin urges, his voice gentle yet firm.
Taking a deep breath, you close your eyes and make a silent wish, your heart whispering words of hope and renewal.
As you blow out the candles, Chanbin begins to sing, his voice filling the room with warmth and melody. The familiar tune of "Happy Birthday" washes over you like a soothing balm, easing the tension that has gripped your soul all day.
When he finishes singing, you open your eyes to find Chanbin's gaze fixed on you, his expression filled with a mixture of tenderness and affection.
"Thank you, Chanbin. This... this means more to me than you'll ever know," you say, your voice barely above a whisper.
Chanbin smiles, a softness in his eyes that speaks volumes. "Anytime, Sunshine. I know today wasn't the best, but I wanted to remind you that even on your worst days, you're loved and cherished."
Touched by his words, you feel tears pricking at the corners of your eyes. In that moment, surrounded by flickering candlelight and the gentle hum of friendship, you realize that even in the darkest of times, there are rays of light to guide you home.
As you and Chanbin share the cake, laughter and warmth filling the room, you know that no matter what challenges lie ahead, you'll always have a friend who's willing to go the extra mile to make your world a little brighter.
*days when he would accept any thing you had in mind*
You pull out your phone, your fingers trembling slightly with anticipation as you dial Chanbin's number. After a few rings, he picks up, his voice warm and familiar on the other end of the line.
"Hey, Sunshine! What's up?" Chanbin greets you, his tone filled with genuine curiosity.
"Hey, Binnie! I have an idea I want to run by you," you reply, your excitement bubbling over despite your attempt to sound casual.
"Sure, shoot! What's on your mind?" Chanbin asks, his interest piqued.
"I was thinking... how about we do a photoshoot together?" you suggest, your voice tinged with excitement.
Chanbin's silence on the other end of the line is palpable, and for a moment, you worry that you've overstepped.
"A photoshoot? Like, in a studio?" Chanbin finally responds, his tone laced with curiosity.
You shake your head, even though he can't see you. "No, nothing like that. I was thinking more along the lines of capturing everyday moments, you know? Just you being you, doing normal things."
There's a pause as Chanbin considers your proposal, and for a moment, you hold your breath, waiting for his response.
"Oh, I love that idea," Chanbin says, his voice filled with enthusiasm. "It sounds like a refreshing change from the usual studio shoots."
Relief floods through you, a smile spreading across your face at his enthusiastic response. "Awesome! I was hoping you'd be up for it. When do you think you'll be free?"
Chanbin checks his schedule, the sound of shuffling papers faintly audible over the phone. "How about this weekend? I'm pretty free then. We can pick a few locations around the city and just go with the flow."
"Sounds perfect," you agree, your excitement building with each passing moment. "I can't wait to capture some amazing shots of you, Binnie."
"Likewise, Sunshine. It's gonna be a blast," Chanbin replies, his voice filled with anticipation.
*days where you had to be strong for him*
You find Chanbin sitting on the couch, his phone clutched tightly in his hand, his expression a mixture of frustration and sadness. As you approach him, you can see the tension radiating off him in waves.
"Hey, Binnie, what's going on?" you ask gently, taking a seat beside him.
Chanbin lets out a heavy sigh, his shoulders slumping with the weight of the world. "It's these hate comments, Sunshine. They just... they get to me sometimes."
Your heart sinks at the pain evident in his voice. You reach out, placing a comforting hand on his arm. "I'm sorry, Binnie. I know how hurtful those can be."
Chanbin shakes his head, a bitter laugh escaping his lips. "I try not to let them get to me, but sometimes... it's like they're impossible to ignore. They make me doubt myself, doubt my worth as an artist."
You squeeze his arm gently, offering a silent gesture of support. "You're not alone. We all have moments of doubt. But remember, those comments don't define you. You're talented, passionate, and loved by so many."
Chanbin meets your gaze, his eyes filled with a mixture of gratitude and pain. "Thanks, Sunshine. I needed to hear that."
As the evening wears on, Chanbin's frustration boils over, his voice tinged with anger and indignation. "Why do people have to be so cruel? What gives them the right to tear someone down like that?"
You listen quietly, letting him vent his frustrations, knowing that sometimes the best way to heal is to let the pain out.
But as the minutes pass, Chanbin's anger gives way to a profound sense of sadness, his voice trembling with emotion. "I just... I don't know how much longer I can keep doing this. It feels like no matter how hard I try, there's always someone out there ready to knock me down."
Your heart breaks for him, seeing the vulnerability in his eyes, the weight of the world pressing down on his shoulders.
"You're stronger than you know, Binnie," you say softly, your voice filled with conviction. "You've overcome so much already, and you'll continue to rise above the hate. You're not alone in this, remember that."
Chanbin leans into your embrace, his body trembling with the weight of his emotions. "Thank you, Sunshine. I don't know what I'd do without you."
You hold him close, feeling the warmth of his presence, the strength of your bond. In that moment, you know that no matter what challenges lie ahead, you'll face them together, hand in hand, heart to heart. And in that simple truth, you find solace, hope, and the unwavering power of love.
*and days like today where he was your rock*
Dark clouds loomed overhead, mirroring the tumultuous storm raging within you. The weight of depression pressed down on your shoulders, suffocating you with its relentless grip. Each breath felt like a struggle, each moment a battle against the darkness threatening to consume you whole.
Your phone rang, piercing through the silence of your desolate room. With trembling hands, you answered, only to hear the worried voice of Chanbin on the other end. His concern was palpable, their words a lifeline in the sea of despair.
“[Your name], I'm worried about you. We know things have been tough lately," He says, voice laced with genuine concern.
Tears welled up in your eyes as you struggled to find the words to respond. The weight of their worry only served to deepen the chasm of loneliness swallowing you whole.
But then, amidst the darkness, his voice cut through the despair like a beacon of light. "Hey, I'm coming over."
Chanbin. The mere mention of his name stirred something within you, a glimmer of hope in the midst of despair. You knew he was the one person who could understand, who could offer solace in your darkest hour.
As you waited, the rain began to fall in torrents, a relentless deluge that mirrored the storm raging within your soul. Each drop felt like a reminder of the tears you couldn't shed, the pain you couldn't escape.
The relentless drumming of rain against the windowpane echoed the tumultuous rhythm of your own heart. Each drop seemed to carry the weight of your sorrows, a relentless downpour of emotion cascading down upon you.
An inexplicable urge tugged at your soul, drawing you toward the terrace like a moth to a flame. With each step, the sound of rain grew louder, drowning out the cacophony of thoughts swirling within your mind.
Stepping out into the deluge, you were greeted by a torrential downpour that enveloped you in its embrace. Raindrops cascaded down your skin, mingling with the tears that streamed down your cheeks, until you could no longer distinguish between the two.
And as the storm raged on, you stood tall upon the terrace, a solitary figure amidst the chaos, finding solace in the simple act of surrendering to the rain. In its gentle embrace, you found peace, a glimmer of hope amidst the darkness, and the courage to face the dawn of a new day.
Heart pounding with dread, Chanbin dashed through the house, calling out your name in a frantic voice that echoed off the walls. Panic seized him as he realized you were nowhere to be found.
With trembling hands, he reached for his phone, fingers fumbling as he dialed your number. But the line remained eerily silent, your voice absent in the darkness.
His mind raced with fear and uncertainty as he bolted toward the terrace, each step heavy with dread. As he pushed open the door, his heart lurched at the sight before him.
There you stood, a solitary figure in the midst of the downpour, your nightgown clinging to your form, your hair plastered to your skin. The rain cascaded down your face, mingling with tears he could scarcely see in the dim light.
"[Your name]!" he called out, his voice cracking with emotion. But you remained motionless, lost in the storm raging within your soul.
With a surge of determination, Chanbin rushed to your side, his heart pounding with fear and relief. "Hey. Sunshine, it's me. Please, look at me."
He reached out, his hand trembling as he gently turned you toward him, searching your eyes for a glimmer of recognition amidst the turmoil.
For a moment, there was only the sound of rain, the weight of unspoken fears hanging heavy in the air. But then, as if awakening from a trance, you met his gaze, your eyes filled with a mixture of pain and relief.
"Chanbin," you whispered, your voice barely above a whisper. "I... I'm sorry."
He enveloped you in his embrace, the warmth of his presence a lifeline in the darkness. "Don't be sorry, Sunshine. I was just so scared. I thought I had lost you."
Tears mingled with rain as you clung to each other, the storm raging around you a testament to the depths of your shared pain and the strength of your bond.
In the embrace of the storm, Chanbin held you close, his arms a shelter against the torrential rain that poured down around you. With each droplet that soaked through his clothes, he could care less about the discomfort, for you were more important than the heavy downpour.
Time seemed to stand still as you stood together, the world around you fading into insignificance as you clung to each other amidst the chaos. In that moment, it was as if the universe had conspired to bring you together, to offer solace in the midst of turmoil.
In the silence between heartbeats, there was an unspoken understanding, a shared recognition of the depths of your bond. Words were unnecessary in the language of the soul, for in that moment, everything you needed to say was conveyed in the warmth of your embrace.
As Chanbin gazed into your eyes, his own reflecting a mixture of fear and devotion, you felt the weight of his emotions wash over you like a tidal wave. In that moment, amidst the relentless downpour, you could sense his fear of losing you, his Sunshine, his beacon of light in the darkest of storms.
You reached out, gently brushing away the tears mingling with raindrops on his cheeks, your touch a silent reassurance of your presence by his side. Despite the turmoil raging within him, you could see the unwavering determination in his eyes, a testament to the depth of his love and his resolve to never let you slip away.
With gentle ease, Chanbin scooped you up bridal style, his strength a comforting anchor amidst the turmoil of emotions. As he carried you inside, his movements were fluid, his determination unwavering in his quest to ease your burdens.
Setting you down gently in the bathroom, he gazed into your eyes, his own filled with tenderness and concern. With a tender touch, he brushed a stray strand of wet hair from your face, tucking it behind your ear with a gentle reverence.
Leaning in, he pressed a soft kiss to your forehead, his lips a whisper of warmth against your skin. In that moment, you felt a sense of calm wash over you, a quiet reassurance in the depths of his affection.
Turning his attention to the task at hand, Chanbin set about preparing a warm bath for you, his movements deliberate and methodical.
As the water filled the tub, steam rising in tendrils to envelop the room, you couldn't help but feel a sense of gratitude for Chanbin's unwavering presence in your life.
As Chanbin finished preparing the bath, he turned to you, ready to give you space, but you caught his shirt sleeve, halting his movement. His gaze softened as he met your eyes, sensing the depth of your need in that moment.
You took a deep breath, the weight of your emotions heavy in the air, and asked him in a voice barely above a whisper if he could stay with you. The vulnerability in your eyes spoke volumes, and Chanbin's heart swelled with a mixture of tenderness and resolve.
Without a word, he nodded, his expression filled with understanding and compassion. In that moment, he knew that you didn't need grand gestures or empty promises. All you needed was his presence, his unwavering support in the face of uncertainty and pain.
As you both stepped into the bathtub fully clothed, the water enveloping you in its warmth, Chanbin made you sit with your back resting agaist his chest. His hand found yours, fingers intertwining in a silent promise of solidarity and strength.
As the minutes stretched into eternity, you leaned into Chanbin's embrace, finding solace in the warmth of his touch. In his arms, you felt safe, cherished, and understood. And as you closed your eyes, allowing the weight of the world to melt away, you knew that with Chanbin by your side, you could weather any storm that came your way.
Once you were both clean and warm, Chanbin helped you out of the bath, his clothes and yours dripping with water. With a gentle touch, he wrapped a towel around you, the fabric warm and soft against your skin.
As he handed you another towel, his eyes filled with a quiet understanding, he turned away, giving you the privacy you needed to change into a clean and dry nightgown. His respect for your boundaries was a testament to the depth of his care, a reminder that he would always be there to support you, even in the smallest of gestures.
With trembling hands, you dried yourself off, the weight of the day still heavy on your shoulders. But as you slipped into the clean nightgown, the fabric soft against your skin, you felt a sense of renewal wash over you, a glimmer of hope amidst the darkness.
As Chanbin dried himself off and shed his wet clothes, he glanced around the bathroom, his eyes landing on your dresser where he knew you kept his emergency drawer full of clothes. With a knowing smile, he made his way to the drawer, pulling it open to reveal an array of his own garments neatly folded inside.
Among the familiar shirts and sweaters, he found a comfortable set of clothes, a reminder of the special bond you shared. With a sense of gratitude, he slipped into the dry attire, the fabric warm and comforting against his skin.
As he dressed, he couldn't help but marvel at the depth of your friendship, the way you had opened your home and your heart to him without hesitation. In moments like these, he felt a profound sense of belonging, a reassurance that no matter where life took him, he would always have a place by your side.
With a renewed sense of purpose, he stepped out of the bathroom, ready to face whatever challenges lay ahead, knowing that with you by his side, he could weather any storm that came his way. And as he made his way back to your side, his heart filled with love and appreciation for the unwavering support you had always shown him.
As you both settled into the comforting embrace of your bed, Chanbin's arms enveloped you in a warmth that chased away the shadows of doubt and fear. Nestled against his chest, you felt a sense of security wash over you.
In the quiet intimacy of the moment, you found the courage to speak the words that had been weighing heavy on your heart, the truths that had remained unspoken for far too long.
"Chanbin," you began, your voice soft yet filled with conviction, "there's something I need to tell you."
He listened attentively, his heart open to whatever you needed to share. His fingers traced gentle patterns along your back, a silent reassurance of his unwavering support.
"I.. I've been struggling," you admitted, your voice trembling with vulnerability. "With the weight of expectations, with the fear of failure, with the uncertainty of what lies ahead."
Chanbin's embrace tightened, his silent affirmation a testament to the depth of his understanding. "You're not alone, my sunshine," he whispered, his breath warm against your skin. "I'm here for you, always."
Tears welled in your eyes as you spoke of your fears and doubts, your hopes and dreams laid bare before him. In his arms, you found solace, a safe haven amidst the chaos of life's uncertainties.
"I don't know what the future holds," you confessed, your voice barely above a whisper. "But with you by my side, I know I can face whatever comes our way."
Chanbin's response was a tender kiss pressed to your forehead, a silent promise of his unwavering devotion. "Together, we'll weather the storms." he murmured, his voice filled with quiet determination. "Whatever lies ahead, we'll face it hand in hand, heart to heart."
In the quiet of the night, with the weight of the world pressing down on his shoulders, Chanbin poured his heart out to you. Despite the demands of his packed schedule, his thoughts always returned to you, his sunshine, the one who illuminated his darkest days and filled his life with warmth and joy.
With a vulnerability he rarely showed, Chanbin confessed the depth of his love for you, the fear that gripped his heart at the mere thought of losing you. Each word was a testament to the depth of his affection, a plea for understanding and acceptance in the face of uncertainty.
"[Your name]," he began, his voice tinged with emotion, "you mean more to me than words can express. Every moment we spend together is a gift, a treasure I hold close to my heart."
His confession poured forth like a river, each word carrying the weight of his love and devotion. He spoke of the moments you shared, the laughter and tears, the triumphs and challenges, all woven together into the tapestry of your shared journey.
"I can't imagine my life without you," he admitted, his voice raw with emotion. "You're the light that guides me through the darkness, the anchor that keeps me grounded in times of uncertainty."
As he spoke, his heart laid bare before you, Chanbin revealed the depth of his fears and insecurities, the uncertainty that gnawed at him when he thought of a future without you by his side.
As his confession drew to a close, Chanbin looked to you, his eyes filled with a mixture of hope and apprehension. In that moment, he bared his soul to you, trusting that you would understand the depth of his love and the sincerity of his words.
In the tender space between confessions and emotions laid bare, you found your own heart echoing the sentiments Chanbin had expressed. Tears welled in your eyes, a silent acknowledgment of the weight and beauty of the moment.
As Chanbin's words lingered in the air, your heart swelled with a mix of emotions – love, understanding, and a profound sense of connection. You were already crying, the depth of his vulnerability striking a chord within you.
In that delicate moment, as he shared his fears, hopes and love, you slowly reached out for him, your touch a gentle affirmation of your own feelings. His lips met yours in a sweet, lingering kiss, a silent exchange of emotions that needed no words.
Breaking the kiss, you whispered sweet nothings, your voice a soothing melody in the quiet of the night. "Chanbin, I feel it too," you murmured, your words a promise of your shared journey ahead.
In the soft glow of the room, amidst tears and tender kisses, you found solace in the embrace of a love that transcended fears and uncertainties. Hand in hand, heart to heart, you and Chanbin embarked on the next chapter of your intertwined story, a narrative shaped by the profound connection you shared. And as you lay there, entwined in each other's arms, you knew that no matter what challenges awaited, your love would be the anchor that steadied you through the storms of life.
