Paradise Lost ; 04

『paradise lost』 ; 04

❝ misplaced bitterness ❞  

↳ your trip to japan with your best friend dredges up some unexpected feelings of jealousy when an old fling from his past makes herself known, and as a result, perhaps it’s time for a conversation of intentions to take place.

⎯ ୨previous୧ ⎯  ○  ⎯ ୨series mlist୧ ⎯ ○ ⎯ ୨next୧ ⎯

『 pairing 』 : kim hongjoong x fem!reader

『 genre 』 : romance, explicit sexual content.

『 rating 』 : mature

『 word count 』 : 8.6k

『 warnings 』 : sexually explicit content: unprotected penetrative sex, exhibitionism, etc etc much of the same with these two

Watching the rain glaze the small window to your left — completely devoid of any sound you might anticipate it making, it’s your surroundings that have you feeling as though you’re a kid again — playing pretend. Taking small pieces of truth and fitting them together into a story that you momentarily perceive as real. Yes, it’s make believe, and yes, you know that; but the feelings are real.

The feelings are always real.

Comfortable in the seat for your flight for the first time in what you think might be ever, you remember more truth about your circumstances among your thoughts, flooded with fantastic stories of who and what: you’re sitting business class, also a first, but to no thanks of your own, of course.

Keep reading

『paradise lost』

series mlist ｡

↳ A story of two people navigating life & love; the good, the bad, and the very, very ugly.

『 pairing 』 : kim hongjoong x fem!reader (other pairings per chapter)

『 genre 』 : friends to lovers, romance, heavy angst, explicit sexual content.

『 warnings (vary per chapter) 』 : heavy angst, drama, very bad decision making, selfish behaviors, substance use and abuse, language.

ꕥ 01: do you ever wonder?

ꕥ 02: passion

ꕥ 03: comfortably familiar

ꕥ 04: misplaced bitterness

ꕥ 05: pull the trigger

ꕥ 06: the words unspoken

ꕥ 07: nobody has to know

ꕥ 08: annihilation

ꕥ 09: compliance

ꕥ 10: chasing

↳ before the story…

ꕥ 05.5: the pros and cons of breathing

pairing: kim hongjoong x jung wooyoung

↳ after the story…

ꕥ interview with the littérateur:

pairing: kim hongjoong x journalist fem!reader

↳ non-canon spin-off…

ꕥ bad for the soul: 

pairing: jung wooyoung x fem!reader

this is a remaster. coming soon! ♡

Aspen my dear friend,

this chapter absolutely had me one on the edge of my seat and absolutely ready to swing at San with anger (for reasons you know privately to some extent), i relate so much to mc with San and the whole belief of love not being a thing despite me being a very obvious hopeless romantic. my heart hurts and is soaring all at the same time for the fact Felix truly does care about mc. truthfully. the way he is written in this series is just how imagined he would be in person too. a beautifully written character with a good heart. i am rooting so hard for these two. truly. as someone who sees mc as themselves, please my friend give them a happy ending. ❤️

Part Six: Accolades

🌹 prev 🌹 masterlist 🌹 next (coming soon)

🌹taglist: open! @drhsthl @propertyoftoru

🌹 permanent taglist: @svintsandghosts

"You weren’t usually the type to accept comfort, denying even Jisung’s offers of solace when you’d been upset in his presence. There was something, though, about the way Felix’s arms held you steady, the way his voice soothed your wounded heart, the gentleness with which he was handling you that - combined together - instinctually made you wrap your arms under his, gripping onto the back of his jacket as if it were the sole thing keeping you afloat."

warnings: swearing, alcohol consumption, themes of guilt, physical violence (non-deadly), angst, insults/verbal abuse, blood/bruises, unrecognized feelings, some excessively sappy fluff because our protagonists deserve a break

wc: 6.8k

a/n: I did not intend for this chapter to surpass 4k words, but almost 7k happened. I'm sorry/you're welcome. I cried real, ugly tears writing this chapter. Holy heck. I don't have much to say this go around, but I hope you enjoy the developments this chapter brings. Thank you, as always, for reading. If you enjoy my series, please consider reblogging and leaving feedback <3

xoxo

-Aspen

There had been a time during your friendship with Jisung where he’d been obsessed with National Geographic documentaries. A particular scene has always stuck with you, burned into your mind’s eye. Two tigers circling around an injured antelope, teeth bared whilst neither broke eye contact, silently daring the other to make a move.

Jisung had been so excited, finding a thrill in the suspense of which cat would lunge first - which cat would claim the meal for their own. You, however, had been absorbed in the visibly distraught antelope as she froze. It had always confused you that, despite her injury, she hadn’t at least made an attempt to flee.

Now, standing between Felix and San, you understood perfectly. There was a certain intensity that came along with being caught in the midst of a stand-off - an intensity, which despite your better judgment, would be best left uninterrupted.

Your focus remained on Felix. The comfort that his hand against the bareness of your shoulder provided, the quiet anger hidden in the tightness of his jaw, the way his typically joy-brightened gaze had given way to an anomalous darkness as it darted between San’s eyes and the rough fingers entrapping your wrist.

Maturity had replaced the boyish charm you’d grown accustomed to and, for the first time since meeting him, you came to an important realization.

It turns out that Lee Felix, twenty-three year old bartender, was more than the fumbling, awkward boy you’d believed him to be.

Much, much more.

The Felix standing behind you now showed no sign of the uncertainty that had so frequently coated his words and actions as he reiterated his deceptively polite request.

“My date’s hand, please?”

His voice was double-edged and firm. He did not stammer, he did not hesitate. A single arched brow accompanying the tight line his lips were pressed into. 

San’s face was contorted into a twisted marriage of incredulousness and rage, lips drawn back into a sneer as he questioned Felix. Feigned innocence in his tone did nothing for the cruelty of his words, however.

“Your date? How funny,” he’d finally broken eye contact with Felix simply to look at you blankly, ensuring maximum damage from his barbed verbiage, “I could’ve sworn her publicist was in the middle of scolding her due to her lack thereof when I’d arrived?”

As your wrist was finally released, you wasted no time in pulling it against your chest. You cradled it limply with the other, a brief numbness ensuing at the sudden rush of blood back into your fingertips.

Felix didn’t miss the way you tensed beneath his palm. He tongued his cheek, glaring at San whilst squeezing your shoulder - reminding you that he was there, assuring you that he wasn’t going anywhere.

“A simple misunderstanding,” Felix didn’t miss a beat with his rebuttal, keeping his words civil despite the obvious way San was trying to crawl under his skin.

“I could’ve sworn,” San chuckled darkly, the spiteful leer he’d been sending your way remaining unbroken. Though he was addressing Felix, he didn’t spare him a single glance, “I heard the beginning of an attempt to explain why nobody would accompany her.”

You felt yourself shrink back at the brutality of his words. Though San had spoken in a deceptively calm tone, there was absolutely no mistaking his intent. He wanted to hurt you.

“As I said,” Felix growled through gritted teeth, his grip on your shoulder tightening protectively, “A misunderstanding, I was just running late.”

San’s smirk was radiating maliciousness, animosity lacing his next words as he finally directed his glower at Felix, “If you were convincing yourself to show I wouldn’t blame you,” San mused, tilting his head at Felix’s increasingly deep scowl, “Having to put up with her isn’t for the faint of heart.”

San, it seemed, was the tiger who lunged first. You were just defenseless - unable to run away despite the way he toyed with you. In that moment, it truly was as though you were his prey.

“Strange,” Felix deadpanned, cold eyes fixated on the man before him, “Nobody else seems to have a problem with her,” he tapped his chin, a semblance of his warm smile finally revealing itself - though it appeared more mocking than genuine.

The casual way Felix delivered his next words - paired with the subsequent reddening of San’s face - nearly made you choke on your breath.

“Must just be narcissistic, insufferable pieces of shit she doesn’t get along with.”

Felix had lunged now, too. 

Unlike San, however, he wasn’t playing. 

From the ease of which the insult had fallen from his lips to the bemused twinkle in his eye, the confidence in his stance and the sureness of his supportive touch, along with the newfound hostility you could feel coming off of him in waves.

Everything about Felix in this moment screamed sanctuary and wrath. Safety and determination. Refuge and strength. 

Lee Felix, twenty-three year old bartender, was not radiating sunshine. Now, he was the glowing coldness of a crescent moon peeking from behind dark clouds, providing just enough visibility in the dark of night to keep you from being afraid.

Lee Felix and his unplanned arrival was your salvation - a clear path providing an escape from what had been an impossible situation. A much needed breath of fresh air when you felt as if you were suffocating.

Lee Felix, in spite of his innate gentleness, was defending you in your brokenness. His claws were out - not for a hunt, not for a meal, but to fight for your honor.

Lee Felix was out for blood.

“What the fuck did you just say?” San’s voice was low, barely a whisper, but that didn’t change the animosity you felt rolling off of him.

“I said,” Felix immediately answered, slowing his words as if worried San wouldn’t understand them, “That it must just be narcissistic, insufferable pieces of shit –” 

Felix didn’t get to finish his recantation, San’s fist flying past your face towards him, connecting against his jaw - the sudden crack of knuckles against bone bringing a startled cry up from your throat.

“San, don’t!” you shrieked, jumping to get between the two. A staggering Felix held up his hand, effectively stopping you before swiping a bead of sticky crimson from his lower lip with his opposite thumb. He chuckled breathily, staring down at the blood for a moment before balling it up around his fingers.

Felix looked wild, a snarl adorning his bloodied, bow-shaped lips as he reared back, launching himself forward with impressive speed. His fist landed square against San’s nose with a nauseating crunch, forcing the man to stumble backwards. 

Scarlet streaks made their way down San’s face, dripping from his chin and staining the stark-white collar of the dress shirt he’d worn with blurred vermillion splotches. Staring at the ever-growing ink-blot test around his neck, the first word that came to mind would be brutality.

You watched as the shock from the blow wore off, a guttural roar parting San’s lips to reveal red-stained teeth as he stepped towards Felix once again. You shut your eyes tight, covering them with your shaking hands. You didn’t want to see the violence unfold before you any more than you already had. You held your breath, bracing yourself, and waited to hear him make contact.

This time, however, there was no grunt following the sound of skin hitting skin.

This time, the sound seemed muted. Less, somehow.

You parted your fingers, peeking through your lashes as curiosity overpowered your previous desire to block it all out. Your hands dropped to cover your mouth, astonished by the sight before you.

San had definitely swung at Felix, as evidenced by the upraised fist less than a foot from his freckled face. That wasn’t what had you gawking, however. 

Around San’s balled-up hand was Felix’s - holding it in place.

Both men’s arms were trembling as they fought silently against the other. You could see Felix’s knuckles turning white as he gripped San’s fist harder, his neutral expression a stark contrast to the feral look San wore.

Despite the intensity of the situation, you couldn’t help but notice the rest of the contrasts between the two. Felix’s delicate, full lips, parted to allow heavy breaths to pass in and out. San’s thinner, sharper ones, drawn up into a crooked grimace. 

The lightly wrinkled navy silk beneath Felix’s blazer, versus the ruined purity that San’s white linen shirt bore as it soaked up his blood.

A scrape, no longer oozing red on Felix. A continuous flow dripping from San. 

“I’m giving you a chance to walk away,” Felix uttered through gritted teeth, clenching San’s hand hard enough that his fingers straightened down, out of a fist, “I’d suggest taking me up on it.” San’s eyes were alight with fury, darting between you, Felix, and his own hand - still held in place by Felix’s. He jerked his hand away with a grunt, balling both of his fists to his sides. He stepped back, turning his head to spit bloodied saliva dangerously close to Felix’s shoes before locking eyes with you.

“She’s not fucking worth it, anyway,” he hissed, once again addressing Felix despite the obvious way he was targeting your emotions. You swallowed hard, ignoring the stinging of your eyes as San turned away, walking off down the street without so much as a glance back.

As soon as Felix was sure the other man had gone, he rushed over to you - looking you over with a panicked expression on his face. Gone was the brief glimpse of a stoic, intense version of Felix - his kindness back in full force as he searched you for any sign of injury.

“Are you okay?! Oh my God, who was that guy?” He prattled on, finally meeting your watery gaze, voice dropping to a whisper as he recognized the signs of distress, “Oh, God, are you hurt? Should I call Jisung?”

“I’m fine, Felix,” you squeaked, inwardly cringing at just how unconvincing and pathetic you sounded.

“You and I both know that’s not true,” Felix frowned, brows furrowing together as he stared so intensely that he may as well be peeking straight into your soul. His voice softened, caressing your ears and serving to somehow lower your own racing pulse, “You don’t have to pretend for me.”

You stared right back, pulling in a shaky breath. You could see worry swirling in Felix’s warm eyes, tainting what was usually a whimsical shine. Guilt overtook you in waves as you felt the concern radiating from him, despite his own bloodied face. It was that very guilt, not the encounter with San, that finally brought a sob from your lips.

Your name tumbled from Felix’s lips in a soothing and soft lilt, his lips pursing as he watched emotion overtake you. 

Just as you felt for his injuries, Felix felt shame for letting you come here alone in the first place. He watched helplessly as your shoulders shook, each breath you took happening as labored gasps. His heart lurched uncomfortably in his chest as he did the only thing he could think to do.

Before you could even register that Felix had moved, you were engulfed in his arms with your face buried against his collarbone - held there by an unexpectedly firm hand against the back of your head. 

His voice was thick as he softly murmured reassurances towards you, showing hints of joining you in your sniveling. He shushed you patiently, absolutely zero signs of irritation or inconvenience behind the gesture. 

You weren’t usually the type to accept comfort, denying even Jisung’s offers of solace when you’d been upset in his presence. There was something, though, about the way Felix’s arms held you steady, the way his voice soothed your wounded heart, the gentleness with which he was handling you that - combined together - instinctually made you wrap your arms under his, gripping onto the back of his jacket as if it were the sole thing keeping you afloat.

“Do you wanna talk about it?” he intoned, barely above a whisper. As you shook your head against his shoulder, a word as simple as ‘no’ proving to be too much in your current state of mind, he simply rested his chin atop your head with a hushed, “Okay.”

Felix didn’t push, didn’t try to pry any information out of you. You were taken aback for a moment, sure that anyone else in his situation would be demanding answers after exchanging blows on your behalf. 

In retrospect, you shouldn’t have been surprised that Felix wasn’t insistent. His sweet temperament was the exact opposite of the type that would continue trying to pull forth information. Pressuring you was something you simply couldn’t picture the kindhearted soul who held you close even considering.

Felix didn’t move until you did, allowing your hands to loosen their hold on his back. He released you with the slowest movements he could, as though giving you a chance to return to his hold if you changed your mind.

He didn’t speak, simply taking your hand in his to examine your wrist - reddened from the vice San had put you in. He turned it over delicately between his fingers, doing his best to avoid touching the inflamed areas.

“Does it hurt?” he whispered, a near imperceptible tremble to his voice as he glanced at your face - swollen and flushed from the weeping you’d done moments prior.

You gave him a halfhearted smile, shaking your head with a fond incredulousness, “Felix, you literally got punched in the face,” you wiped the wetness from beneath your eyes, trying not to worry about the smeared mascara that now lingered on your fingers - figuring out how to get cleaned up for the event was an issue for later.

“And?” he raised a brow, tilting his head to the side as though he were genuinely baffled at the relevance.

“And you’re asking me if I’m hurt?” your brows were sky high as you looked at his face for any hint that he wasn’t being serious.

“Yeah, of course I am!” he insisted, lips pursing as he looked back down at the mark San had left, “Look at you! It’s all red, what if it bruises? We should get you some ice,” he tutted, turning your wrist over in his gentle hands once more.

“But, Felix, you got punched in the face. You were bleeding,” you insisted, earning you a mock-offended look from the boy.

He gently released your hand, stuffing his hands in the pockets as he casually replied, “So? I’d do it again if it meant keeping that guy away from you.” 

He seemed insistent, brows knitted together as he subconsciously pressed his thumb to the gash on his lip. You could see the questions lingering behind his troubled stare, surprised once more as he didn’t press for a single tidbit about San.

For that, you were more grateful than words could describe.

“May I?” You gestured to his lip, earning a cocked brow in response. His thumb slowly fell as he nodded, still looking a bit puzzled by your request. 

You brushed your index finger gently against his swollen, velvety lower lip, thankful that the heels you’d worn had put you at an equal height. He winced as you ran the pad of your finger over the open gash, spurring you to murmur a rushed, “Sorry…”

Felix shook his head, silently telling you not to worry - though, in his effort to stay still, it was really more of a twitch. You pulled your hand back, feeling the beginnings of a frown between your brows as you reached into your small purse - rooting for the small packet containing a couple of makeup wipes. 

“Ah,” you sighed, finally feeling the smooth packet against your roaming fingertips, pulling it out and splitting it open quickly. You pulled one of them from the packaging, leaving the other in the foil, “Hold this for me?” 

Felix took the half-empty packet from you, wordlessly following your instructions as he watched you wrap the wipe around your fingertip. His head slowly made its way into an inquisitive angle, staring as you raised your now-swathed finger towards him.

“I know it’s not medical grade, but it’ll at least wipe the blood off, yeah?” you hesitated before pressing it against his wound, wanting to be sure he was okay with your makeshift first aid before continuing. 

“Oh,” his chest rumbled with his answer, a bright smile that could melt even the coldest exteriors planting itself onto his face, “Thank you.”

“Mhm,” you hummed, pressing the cool wipe to his bloodied lip with as much gentleness as you could. You swiped delicately at the swollen flesh, feeling the warmth of his breath against your careful hand. You took your time to remove every bit of dried crimson that remained, adjusting the wipe as needed so you weren’t simply spreading it around. 

Despite your tenderness, however, Felix still hissed sharply through his teeth when you’d press a bit harder to get the stubborn bits. You gave him an apologetic glance before pulling back, staring at his now-clean face. 

The flash of red belonging to the wound itself was all that remained, contrasting greatly with his otherwise peony-pink lips. When he graced you with a grin, typical crookedness increased by the swollenness of his lip, your heart ached. Such a violent mark had no business being on the face of such a softhearted person.

You wished it was possible to wipe the entire thing away.

“My turn,” he stated, lifting the metallic packet containing the remaining wipe in front of his face. He nearly went cross-eyed as he stared at it intently, tugging it from its home with an unnecessary level of care. You stifled a laugh as he proudly held it up, stuffing the empty package into his pocket.

“Really?” you questioned, a bemused smirk teasing the corners of your lips as he stepped closer. He tried to mimic the way you’d enfolded your finger, brows furrowing with concentration as he swaddled his finger in the damp cloth. 

“Of course,” he answered, again treating the kindnesses he frequently showed you as if they were obvious - the only correct answer.

“Okay, then,” you mused, trying not to laugh at the caution he took bringing it close to your face. He dabbed at your cheek lightly, pulling the wipe back to ensure he’d actually picked up some of the black streak that cut through your once perfectly made-up face.

Content that he was doing it correctly, Felix resumed his work with brows remaining drawn together due to the sheer amount of focus he’d put into cleaning you up. His lips were parted slightly, warm breath fanning your face on occasion as he worked with the lightest of touches. 

“Can you look up for me?” Felix whispered, breaking what had been an extremely comfortable silence. You followed his direction, lashes tickling your brow bone as you lifted your irises upwards, keeping your head otherwise still. 

You stared at the stars as Felix gently swiped beneath your lash line, distant chatter accompanying the sound of his slow, calming breaths. The sky looked beautiful tonight, littered with what seemed like more pinpricks of light than usual. Living in the city, it was rare to see a sky so clear. Perhaps this was a reward for surviving your encounter with San.

“Done,” Felix announced proudly, pulling your attention back down to Earth. You smiled softly as you brought your gaze back towards him, unable to stop the connection your mind had suddenly formed. 

Felix’s freckles were just as bountiful as the stars, it seemed. Just as comforting. Just as mesmerizing.

“I hope I did okay,” his nervous rumble interrupted your intrusive thoughts, your ears feeling hot. Had you been staring? You hoped not.

“I’m sure it’s better than I looked before,” you assured him, feeling your eyes soften at his worried expression.

Felix beamed, obviously proud of his work after your affirmation, and gathered both of the wipes - putting them back into the foil before slipping it back into his pocket, “I think you look gre–”

“There you are! Jesus, I thought you’d left!” Nari’s voice interrupted, irritation filling every syllable.

“Oh, Nari,” you peered over Felix’s shoulder at her reddened face. She was visibly flustered, likely having been searching for a while, “Sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry, just hurry! They’re seating everyone now,” she sounded like a strict mother scolding her child as she gestured for you to follow her, though her stony expression shifted into one of shock upon realizing your companion was not, in fact, San.

“Who’s this? Where’d San go? Don’t tell me you were serious about attending alone?” Nari rapid-fire questioned you, not allowing you a single second to provide her with answers.

“Um…” you started, palms sweating as you looked over to Felix, your eyes pleading with him to help.

“I’m her date,” he immediately stated, directing his bright smile at Nari. The woman visibly stiffened - bringing you to wonder if it was simply Felix’s contagious grin or the red split in it that gave her pause.

“San –” she began, likely planning to press further about his whereabouts.

“Got a nosebleed,” Felix finished for her, sending you a small, humor laced glance before continuing with false concern in his tone, “All over his shirt, I’m afraid.”

“I see…” Nari mumbled, lips set in a firm line as she crossed her arms.

“Seeing as I was free,” Felix continued, explaining the situation as if it were some sort of heroic tale, “I figured I could escort her just as well.”

Nari hesitated before sighing deeply, “A date’s a date I suppose,” she begrudgingly admitted, “Come on, then, let’s get you seated.” 

You shot Felix a grateful smile the second Nari turned around, mouthing a silent ‘thank you.’ He simply waved his hand dismissively, grinning brightly at you as he linked your arms together at the elbow.

You would say he was playing the role of a perfect gentleman, but that would be a lie. There was no acting involved in Felix’s actions.

He was a perfect gentleman.

Despite the comparatively small following the event had, the Gala had always been overwhelmingly lush. 

Crystal chandeliers hung from the venue’s ceiling, casting a dim golden glow on everything the light touched. Tables adorned with creamy silk tablecloths and lavish floral arrangements were staggered across the marble floors, even the chairs surrounding them ornately carved with matching velvety cushions. 

“I feel underdressed…” Felix murmured, wide eyes reflecting the glittering lights above as he absorbed the surroundings.

You looked him up and down, stifling a giggle at how nervous he looked. 

His worries were baseless, seeing as he was dressed well; fitted blazer with matching dress pants, the deep blue sheen of his button down bringing out the warmth in his complexion. 

“You look amazing, Felix,” you assured him in earnest, not unaware of the way his arm tightened around yours at the compliment. He shot you a small smile, shaking his head.

“Have you seen yourself? In comparison, I’m a bum,” he insisted, though you could notice the way your encouragement lessened the strain in his tone.

“Hush,” you frowned, bumping into his side lightly. He smiled softly, still visibly unnerved, but didn’t press any further.

Felix unlatched your elbows to step in front of you, taking long strides towards the chair accompanying your nameplate. He shot you a bright grin as he pulled it out, “Milady?” he joked, a grand sweeping gesture of his arm bubbling up a laugh from your throat.

“Why, thank you,” you crooned, another small giggle leaving your lips as he pushed the chair back in.

Felix took his seat next to you and grinned, matching your lighthearted tone in kind, “You are very welcome,” he chimed, scooting in closer to the table just as a waiter came by with champagne. Felix gently took two flutes in both of his hands, extending one towards you.

You smiled, accepting it before sipping at the drink - dense carbonation tickling your tongue. You sat in yet another easy silence with Felix for a while, chatting with a couple of colleagues as they’d pass by your table. Midway through discussing a new storyboarding technique with another author, the dimming of the already faint lighting signaled for your attention to go towards the stage.

Bidding a curt goodbye to your colleague, your attention was pulled towards the stage. The evening’s host began by introducing the event - as if most present weren’t aware of what they’d shown up for - before listing off the categories for this year’s awards. You tuned out most of it, content to sip at your drink.

Felix seemed completely enraptured in this brand-new world, though, with his wide, bright eyes reflecting the spotlight from the stage. You couldn’t help but feel affectionate towards him in that moment, his childlike wonder only serving to cement your opinion of him - light, in human form.

You clapped politely as awards began to be handed out, though you’d have preferred not to be in attendance. The event had lost its magic for you after you’d ceased believing in what you wrote about.

The waiter dropping by after the third announcement, replacing your empty glass with a fresh one, was a welcome reminder that at least the event wasn’t all bad. 

Complimentary, expensive champagne was hard to complain about.

Felix’s eyes finally left the stage, staring at you with anticipation in his eyes as your name was called amongst the nominees for Best Romance. You felt the corners of your lips tighten and twitch in an attempt not to laugh amidst the otherwise silent crowd, finding it increasingly precious just how into this Felix was.

You gave him a warm smile as he nearly vibrated in his seat, shaking your head before looking back towards the host. 

“The award for Best Romance goes to…”

Felix took an audible, sharp inhale and held it, reaching over the table to grab your hand whilst staring expectantly at the announcer. You weren’t sure if it was because he’d assumed you’d be nervous - or because he was on your behalf - either way, you allowed him to lace his fingers between yours and squeeze - hard. 

Felix’s legs were bouncing impatiently beneath the table as the host opened the envelope containing the results with painfully drawn out movements. You could’ve sworn you heard a frustrated, “Come on, already,” leave his lips as the paper was pulled from its sleeve.

It wasn’t until your name came through the speakers that Felix’s brow unwrinkled, his lips parting into potentially the biggest smile you’d seen from him to date. He instantly released your hand to clap furiously, jovial expression not once faltering as his eyes followed your ascent to the stage. 

You put on the Nari-approved facial expression once again as cameras flashed, hoping that you appeared genuinely excited. It wasn’t that you weren’t grateful for a victory - sales of your novels would certainly rise following a win - nor was it the fact that you’d won an award before that dampened what should’ve been an ecstatic moment.

It just felt wrong, somehow, to accept an award for a book you’d written about love - seeing as you thought it was complete and utter bullshit.

Regardless, you approached the announcer with a dazzling grin, shaking his hand when prompted as the crowd’s cheers slowly died down. Despite the bright lights blotting out the faces of the crowd, you were sure the single, lingering applause as you took the shining, silver plaque from the host was Felix’s. 

You were expected to make a speech which, had it not been for San’s unexpected appearance, would’ve been the most dreadful part of this evening. You had no trouble with words - obviously, being an author - but this wasn’t like the last ceremony.

You didn’t have a lover to thank for inspiring you this time around.

Still, though, you found yourself standing before the microphone, drawing in a deep and steadying breath as you forced your voice to form words.

“Thank you all so much,” you started, remembering Nari’s firm insistence that addressing the crowd was essential. 

“I know it may seem odd,” you continued, laughing breathily at yourself, “But I’m at a loss for words right now.” The audience tittered, their good response to your honesty lightening the weight on your chest significantly, “I have a few people I’d like to thank. My publicist, Nari, for always ensuring I write to the best of my abilities,” you figured after the several heart attacks you’d given the woman today, sucking up couldn’t hurt.

“My best friend and rock, Han Jisung, for bringing me coffee during late night writing sessions, and putting up with me while I sulk over writer’s block,” despite Jisung’s absence from the event, both this time and the last, you’d never neglected to acknowledge the role he played in keeping you sane. 

You waited for the scattered laughter to dissipate before carrying on. There was one more person, despite not knowing him during the writing process or having prepared any words on his behalf, that you felt was certainly owed some thanks.

“And Lee Felix,” you proudly smiled, looking in the general direction of the table. You couldn’t see his face, yet you were certain he’d straightened his posture and that his cheeks were bright pink.

“For being invested enough in me to challenge my beliefs,” you were, of course, referring to your deal, “For defending my mug collection,” you laughed before you continued, the smile on your face becoming more and more genuine as you proclaimed your gratitude.

“For just defending me in general…” you trailed off for a moment, taking a deep breath so as not to get emotional recalling the events of earlier. You swallowed a lump in your throat, blinking rapidly so as to chase away the prickling warmth behind your eyes. 

“And for giving enough of a damn to show up for me tonight. Thank you.”

You bowed your head then, the thunderous applause sounding farther away than it should have as you fought harder and harder against your emotions. 

You weren’t sure what it had been about thanking Felix in particular - whether it was the moment you’d shared tonight or an accumulation of the time you’d spent growing closer with him - but as you made your way back to the table, you were very choked up.

At the sight of a watery-eyed Felix waiting for you - still standing from the ovation he’d no doubt given you - with his lips parted into a dumbfounded smile?

It took everything in you not to give in and let your composure shatter.

Felix once again pulled your chair out for you, quickly retaking his spot at your side, his voice cracking as he addressed you, “That was–”

“I don’t have any more wipes, do not speak and stop looking at me like that,” you tried to joke, but the thickness of unshed tears and the resulting breathiness in your voice made it sound much more like a plea.

Felix simply nodded, sniffling only once before giving your shoulder a single squeeze. 

Your heart had remained tight in your chest throughout the next award’s announcement, beyond grateful for the arrival of a brief intermission. You rose from your chair, prepared to excuse yourself to the restroom to cry, only to be stopped by Felix’s soft touch on your forearm.

“Are you okay?” he whispered, still sounding quite emotional himself as he stared up at you worriedly, “Do we need to go?”

You caught yourself preparing to tell him you were fine, only to instantly shake the notion off. 

What was the point in lying to the man who likely still had your snot and tearstains on his collar?

“Let’s get out of here,” you laughed weakly, wondering how exactly he’d been able to read your mind so easily.

Nari be damned.

Felix grinned, his eyes still glossy with the emotions he’d kept to himself after your speech, before rising to his feet next to you. He offered you his arm again, which you gladly accepted, allowing him to lead the two of you back to the entrance.

Stepping out into the cool, evening air instantly served to lessen the uncomfortable heat that had been lingering beneath your skin. You filled your lungs with the fresh air as Felix guided you carefully through the parking lot, weaving between the rows of cars until his candy-apple truck appeared in your view. 

Felix uncurled your arms to jog ahead, pulling open the passenger door for you. You thanked him with a soft smile, climbing in as he walked around to the driver’s side. He turned the key in the ignition, the engine rumbling to life reassuring you with the promise of leaving this place - and, hopefully, the urge to cry - behind. 

After ensuring that the two of you were both buckled, Felix didn’t waste another second. He pulled out into the street, casting you a concerned glance here and there as he navigated to your apartment building. He pulled into the parking garage, taking up the spot Jisung typically would have had he not been out of town with Minho. 

“I wanna give you something,” Felix blurted, turning to face you, his dark pools containing an excited glimmer.

You tilted your head at him, wondering why he’d waited until now to say anything.

“I picked these up before going out with Ryujin,” he started to explain, beaming from ear to ear as he reached behind his seat to grab two white boxes, “It’s our pottery, from our first not-date.”

Your face soon mirrored his, confusion replaced with giddy anticipation as he handed you the box labeled with his name. 

“I was gonna see if you were free tomorrow, so we could open them together, but seeing as we ended up seeing eachother tonight,” Felix drew out the word, setting the box containing his gift from you in his lap, “I figured why wait?”

You nodded excitedly, feeling much lighter than you had all evening, “You wanna open yours first?” you questioned. You weren’t sure what you were looking forward to more- seeing his reaction to the set of shot glasses you’d painted for him or to see what he’d done for you.

“Can I?!” he nearly shouted, his grip tightening on the lid of the box as his smile somehow grew wider.

You laughed, gesturing to the box he was now clutching so tightly that the cardboard was getting dented, “Go ahead, Felix.”

Before you’d even finished your sentence, Felix had torn the lid from his box and carefully stuck his hand inside. He rummaged through the tissue paper, visibly buzzing in his eagerness. You knew the very moment he’d found one of the glasses - an audible gasp leaving his now-purpling lips.

As Felix lifted the tiny cup you’d painted a minty green from the box, his eyes widened. He cautiously tilted it in every direction. You watched him intently, your pulse quickening as you awaited his reaction to your choice. He continued to inspect it, a smile of pure joy crinkling his eyes into glittering crescents as he finally peered inside at the tiny daisy you’d painted in the bottom.

“This is so cute!” he cooed, holding it close to his chest, directing his shimmering stare right at you now.

“There should be two more,” you informed him, resisting the urge to laugh as he scrambled to root through the box for the remainder of the set. He eventually managed to fish out the pale pink and baby blue companions for the first glass, looking back up at you with a pout.

“I love them,” he crooned, hugging the trio to his chest affectionately.

“Really?” you inquired hopefully, “I didn’t know much about you yet, but I knew that you were a bartender,” you started explaining, hoping that Felix wasn’t secretly thinking that shot glasses were too on the nose, “And I guessed on the colors, because of that pink hoodie you wore when we first met.”

“And the daisies?” Felix pressed, eyes round and filled with wonder, “How’d you know I loved daisies?”

“I didn’t,” you admitted, blinking rapidly, actually a bit shocked at the revelation.

“What? Seriously, you just guessed?” Felix’s surprise mirrored yours, his head flopping to the side like a curious cat.

“Well, sort of?” You suddenly felt self conscious of your reasoning at the time, uncertainty over if it would sound strange making your words sound hesitant as they left your lips, “Daisies have the same feeling that you do. I dunno, like, they’re happy and soft, and they mean innocence and new beginnings in the language of flowers, and –”

It was almost funny having Felix be the one to stop your rambling rather than the usual, opposite way around.

“That might be the nicest thing anyone has ever said about me,” he deadpanned, the ghost of a smile remaining on his features, despite the seriousness with which he delivered his statement.

Felix’s words stopped you in your tracks, heat rushing to your cheeks not only from his genuine gratitude, but the realization that you’d been mildly garrulous in your nervousness.

“Thank you,” he continued on, seemingly oblivious to the crisis you were undergoing following your long-winded explanation, “Really…thank you.” 

After gently placing the trio of glasses back into their box, Felix gave you an expectant stare - eyes flicking down to the box in your lap. 

“My turn?” you asked, earning more of a vibration than a nod from Felix as he bobbed in his seat. You felt the warm smile that always seemed to appear for the mild-mannered boy stick itself onto your face as you looked down at the box, pulling off the lid and setting it aside.

It was easy to find your gift beneath the cushioning of tissue paper, feeling the cold clay against your fingertips in only but a second. You wrapped your fingers around what felt like a handle, pulling it slowly from the packaging obscuring its nature.

As you stared down at the cerulean ceramic, you began to laugh. 

“I know it’s not some fancy plaque,” Felix started, lighthearted humor coating every word he uttered as he shot you a playful grin, “But I hope it’s still an honor.”

Against the gemlike blue were yellow letters, written in the same handwriting as the rainbow set of rules on your far-from-professional contract. They read:

#1 Fake Girlfriend.

“And, if not,” Felix’s jovial tone hadn’t shifted in the slightest, his eyes seeming to sparkle with unreleased laughter, “It’s another mug for your collection.”

Your mirthful gaze landed on his, an unencumbered smile stretched upon your lips, “Thank you, Felix,” you hummed, staring back down at the mug affectionately before placing it carefully back in it’s box, keeping it safe until you could get it up to your apartment, “I love it.”

And you did. It was almost unsettling just how much a simple mug could mean to you, but you weren’t going to question it. It was far more pleasant to bask in the glow of the gift that you instantly grew attached to.

You moved to get out of the truck, stacking your award plaque atop the box as you opened the door, only to be stopped by Felix calling your name from the cab.

You looked back at him with a curious expression, waiting for him to continue.

“After what happened tonight…” he hesitated, watching your face to make sure you weren’t upset with his broaching of the topic, “If you want, I could stick around? Or you could come to mine? Either way, I’ll take the couch!” he quickly inserted that, as if predicting you’d have something to say about sleeping arrangements, “We could test out these neat little shot glasses if you want? We don’t have to talk about it or anything, but if you don’t wanna be alone –”

“Felix,” you cut him off, a breathy laugh on your lips. The bashfulness written in the way his brows simultaneously furrowed and raised nearly caught you off-guard as you interrupted him.

“Yes?” 

“I’d appreciate the company,” you smiled at the visible relief, his posture relaxing entirely, “Let me go change, gimme five minutes?” 

Felix nodded, getting comfortable in the driver’s seat, “Take your time,” he assured you gently, “I’ll be here.”

Those words were so simple, yet the way Felix had said them made them feel like the most comforting three word phrases you’d ever heard. 

You left Felix in the parking garage to switch your glamorous dress out for sweats and a hoodie, and your heels for a comfortable pair of sneakers. You glanced back inside your apartment, beaming at the box containing your new mug sitting atop your counter - almost oblivious to the shiny silver plaque next to it.

You locked the door behind you, quickening your pace so as not to leave Felix waiting. As his face lit up upon spotting you, beaming happily at you as he leaned over in his seat to shove the door open for you, you were certain.

Out of every accolade you’d ever received, #1 Fake Girlfriend was by far your favorite.

『paradise lost』 ; 02

❝ passion ❞

↳ navigating the transition in your friendship with hongjoong seems to come with an absolutely blissful ease when ‘next time’ finally comes around.

⎯ ୨previous୧ ⎯ ○ ⎯ ୨series mlist୧ ⎯ ○ ⎯ ୨next୧ ⎯

『 pairing 』 : kim hongjoong x fem!reader

『 genre 』 : friends to lovers, romance, explicit sexual content.

『 rating 』 : mature

『 word count 』 : 3.6k

『 warnings 』 : sexually explicit content: oral sex (f+m rec), light cum play+facial+swallowing. they’re kind of just enamored with each other.

Your favorite time spent with Hongjoong was while he was working.

Whatever “working” happened to entail at the time; a man that would partake in many crafts, shoes and jackets and hats strewn about his apartment — the occasional canvas, but even with them on hand, half of the time he would simply take to the concrete walls of his living space and mark them with whatever it was that his mind had conjured up. Hongjoong, who would seemingly never be at peace without the artistic outlet of emotional and mental freedom — you would akin it to the way a fish needs water, the way humans need oxygen.

Keep reading

hugs with him

♡ pairing : boyfriend!chan x reader

♡ genre : fluff

♡ warnings : kissing

♡ word count : 0.3k

moodboard

masterlist

Feedback & reblogs are highly appreciated!

Hugs with Chan feel safe, no matter what kind of hug it is, he always gives the best hugs.

When he wakes up in the morning next to your sleeping figure, he would wrap his muscular arms around you and pull you closer to him, burying his face in the crook between your shoulder and neck. He would breathe in your scent and relax immediately, all his worries disappearing.

Or when he comes back home after a long day at work. His arms would be wide open from the moment he enters the apartment. Chan would hug you and kiss your temple every single time he leaves the apartment, but especially when he comes back home, his excuse being "your hugs give me energy to take my shoes off."

Or the days when he feels like the universe is against him. You would be minding your own business washing the dishes when a wild Chan would appear behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist and resting his chin on your shoulder. He would never miss a chance to shower you with kisses either. Starting from your neck to your cheeks and finally a long, but loving kiss to your lips. You are the only person who can make him feel better on a bad day.

Or hugs when he comes back from tour, the best hugs in his opinion. He misses you the moment he steps foot at the airport, but he misses you even more when he gets on the plane and leaves for a few days or even months. He wishes he was able to take you with him and travel the world with you, but unfortunately he is unable to. So the moment he sees you after coming back from tour, his eyes would tear up and his arms would be tightly wrapped around your body. Chan would feel his body relax and fill up with energy.

"I love you, Yn!"

list : @seungly @staykkk @yaelx @qnjayn @gold-dragon-slayer @starlostseungmin @bluechans @starshine-moon @lachinitaaaaa @comet-falls @lix-ables @l0veph0bia @snow-pegasus @crispybangchannie @bakugossanity @l3visbby @chrispychans @hyunverse @cherry-0420 @minhosify @strayluvr @strayingawayy @bbujiikseu @hyunjinswifeee @linoboop @straystaychan @cxentrxcks @adorehwang @alyszaen @minholvly @svintsandghosts @aaliyahxsx @seraphicsolitude @hyunluvxo @cleverbasementhideout-blog @lvmazzy @meln25 @beautifulgashinaxxxi @notastraykid

DO NOT REPOST, STEAL AND/OR TRANSLATE MY WORKS!!!!

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warnings : food, break up