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The Guy Next Door | hhj

❝𝐖𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐥𝐞𝐭 𝐦𝐞?❞

↳ Interim chapter 2/2 of The Guy Next Door: should be read after chapter 6. Interims are optional therefore not crucial to the main storyline but do provide extra context and background on side characters, their arcs and sub-plots.

↳ Changbin x transfem Felix focused, other characters included/referenced 

↳ 10.7k

! Strong language, sports science major/rich boy Changbin, porn star Felix, transfem Felix uses she/her pronouns and has female anatomy, pansexual Changbin, angst and tension, background/history on Changbin, frank discussion on transitioning and surrounding issues therein, frequent reference to pornography (trans porn specifically and issues therein), pining, alcohol consumption, explicit sexual content, making out, oral sex (m. rec), face fucking, cum swallowing, hugely under-negotiated kink, Felix does a really dumb thing, d/s dynamics, subspace and whiting out, unintentional aftercare neglect, this chapter is a lesson in the importance of communication do not try this at home, adult themes throughout !

「suitable for 18+ readers only」  「Chapter 1」  「Contents List」  「© February 2023 by jl-micasea-fics」

Changbin sometimes wonders where he’d be if he wasn’t in Saint Brides.

Abroad somewhere, perhaps, relaxing on a sunburnt beach as warm waves lick his toes. Maybe exploring Europe, backpacking through cultural capitals. Maybe touring Asia, island hopping or mountain climbing or otherwise participating in any extreme sport that would have his adrenaline pumping.

But that’s all about he can do; he can wonder, he can dream, he can pretend that his future is as unknown as everyone else’s. He can try to forget that he’s not beholden to certain expectations laid on him from the minute he was born, but really, he never will.

Make no mistake; Changbin is grateful for the things he has. His life is good, comfortable, he wants for nothing and as a result finds himself with never a dull moment to waste. Contrary to what might constitute a cliché for rich families, Changbin knows his father to be a good man. A man with principles, self-made and honest. A man that wants only the best for his brood and that worked himself to the bone in the business of merging and acquisition to ensure said best.

Changbin finds pride in being the eldest son of a man like that, and knows how lucky he is that he can make such a claim; certainly when he compares his home life to that of his dearest friends, the gratitude for his circumstances is abundantly clear. His childhood was the ideal of storybooks, his adolescence supported and nurtured, his growing into the person he is now a gentle process by the guiding hands of his parents.

And so, he supposes that ultimately, his future is a small price to pay for it all. It’s expected of him to succeed his father in taking over the family business, to run it with the same level of respect and care that the man himself did. He’s never abjectly hated the idea of stepping into those shoes, but neither has he found himself giddy at the prospect.

It is simply a stated fact, a truth that he knows to be. It hardly matters that his true passion lies with sports and physical fitness. Indeed, it hardly matters that he’s studying towards it now, because even with degree in hand and all the motivation in the world, he’ll be unable to make proper use of it.

His parents tell him frequently that that he’s free to do what he wants, how he wants, when he wants it, until such a time as he’s required to take up the Seo mantle. Thus, he decided to go to university, to do what everyone else his age was doing in the hopes it might make him feel a little more like them.

Changbin still believes his falling into step the tripod to be an unthinkable stroke of luck, their friendship feeling so very eternal to him now. It was through no more than being approached by a grinning blonde kid after the first induction tutorial of the year that rendered him subsequently unable to shake him. Many months after the event, Changbin asked him what it was inspired him to approach in the first place, to which Jisung informed that it was because Changbin was the only one to not laugh at the snide joke the professor cracked on the blonde’s late arrival to the lecture. A little baffled by the answer but accepting all the same (Changbin didn’t laugh because he simply didn’t find singling out funny), it was no effort to quickly warm to the eccentric rainbow coloured catastrophe that was Han Jisung.

It was no surprise when, a few weeks after that, Jisung pulled much the same stunt with the lonely girl in the library; a veritable deer in the headlights if Changbin had ever seen one. Less prepared to slot herself into the dynamic they already had, her icy persona took a little longer to thaw, yet even the most solidified of temperaments will eventually melt under Jisung’s scorching persistence.

Changbin worries about her. It’s natural that he should, of course, and he doesn’t let himself feel bad for wanting to text her every hour on the hour if only to ensure she’s functioning enough to string together a response.

While he never could have known the whole extent of the abuse she suffered, Changbin saw signs of something that didn’t sit rightly with him. She carried herself like her very existence was a nuisance, lingering always several paces behind until Jisung would drag her along in equal step. She would never speak unless spoken to, never add anything of value to conversations unless thoroughly relaxed enough to do so. She would flinch when her phone went off, check the time every five minutes, make increasingly elaborate excuses after class to avoid hanging out, and eventually Changbin supposed that enough was enough.

Enlightening Jisung as to his suspicions on her home life wasn’t so much an enlightenment as it was confirmation for both that their mutual concerns couldn’t be unfounded; not if they both shared them.

Even with desire to outright approach her with it, Changbin was perpetually aware of overstepping. The friendship was still relatively new, the ties fragile with potential to snap under distrust. And so, he had little choice but to believe that she was a grown woman in her own right; if she was in such dire a position as to require serious help, she would surely seek it out. Changbin had to trust that she would.

She needed friends, he realised. Not a force of authority or nature to dig to the root of her mental scars and peel them clean from her person, for doing such a thing would only open bloody wounds and negate whatever healing she had so far achieved. No. She needed a network of support to fall back on, people her own age that wouldn’t brand her a pariah or sympathise to piteous degrees, but rather that would simply treat her as though she was one of them.

It was Jisung that affectionately knighted them ‘the tripod’, three legs of the same unified being, the bonds of which were stronger than any iron-clad friendship; if one metaphorical leg were kicked out by poor circumstance or unwanted angst, all three of them would feel the pain and thusly fall. Changbin hoped she understood that the sentiment applied to everything.

Despite all this and at the behest of his own principles, however, Changbin couldn’t resign himself to total inaction. Whatever he could do to ease her anxious plight, he would, and so he took quiet note of her routines; nine pm weekday curfews, midnights on the weekend. Ensuring she was always returned home accordingly spared her from the exhaustion of fabricating an excuse every time, and while it was never outwardly stated that the pair were deliberately accommodating her circumstances, Changbin felt the appreciation in the small things. The way she became closer, warmer, more at ease the longer she remained in their company, and before Changbin really realised it, he was forced to ask himself questions as to the nature of his feelings.

Did he… love her?

Keep reading

adore you so v much Sparky ❤️ miss you angel!

Fluttering Little Butterfly

Author's note: All because of my @dumplinbokkieracha , who has been so generous with her art. Thank you for being a wonderful friend, bubby!

Characters: Hyunjin x Y/N x Felix

Warnings: minors dni! poly relationship, unprotected sex, mention of going into full sub headspace, teasing, petname (butterfly and baby)

Their little butterfly, you. You’re their butterfly. It’s what they call you.

And that’s exactly what makes your heart flutter, be it in or out of bed. 

But of course, when they call you their sweet, precious little butterfly, your heart beats a lot faster. And it makes you feel like cumming around their cocks that instant. 

However, right now, you aren’t in bed. You’re bent over the table where you were peacefully focusing on drawing cute fanart of Jiniret, BbokAri and a butterfly, just for fun. And because you really wanted to surprise them. 

“Butterfly, focus, hmm? How are you going to post it if you’re colouring so messily, hmm?” Hyunjin whispers into your ear as his cock slides in and out of your cunt in a painfully but deliciously slow pace, making your hand shake, trying your best to colour BbokAri. 

“Our little butterfly can’t focus when she has a thick dick inside her, can she?” you can hear Felix teasing, his fingers gripping your waist, making sure you don’t squirm away from Hyunjin. 

“Please,” you beg, although you don’t even know what you’re begging for. You’re with your two lovers, finally able to see them in flesh, them touching you the way you’ve been dreaming of ever since they went on tour weeks ago yet now it feels like they’re torturing you. 

“Shh, enjoy it, little butterfly, You’re perfect. Always so patient, always so ready for us, aren’t you?” Hyunjin whispers, loud enough for your hazy little mind and Felix’s lusty one to hear. 

Felix goes on his knees, softly pushing your and Hyunjin’s connected bodies a little further away from the table, so that he could fit right in between, your hanging tits now conveniently hanging just right on top of Felix’s salivating mouth. He traces his lips to your soft mounds, popping one nipple into his warm mouth and starts suckling like he’s awaiting milk to drip. 

Oh how they’ve terribly missed you. 

It’s always hard to part ways. You’re their muse. Their graceful little butterfly. Their little artist whose poise hands would create wonderful masterpieces for them, always eager to gift them with something special, something unique featuring the three of you.

“I- it’s- it’s a lot. Can’t- can’t, ah- Hyun! Lix!” you try to say something coherent but you can’t. Your head is filled with the thought of your two beautiful lovers - one who has his beautiful thick cock brushing against your walls and another who has his wet, warm mouth playing and licking your breasts, ready to put their all into pleasuring their one and only girl. 

“Cum then, butterfly. Cum around Hyun’s cock like a good little girl you are, yeah?” Felix coos at you, as his lips travel closer to where you and Hyunjin are connected, ready to give you that little push you need to orgasm around your lover’s dick. 

“She’s near. Can feel her. Tight. Pulsing. Can you feel your little hole fluttering for me, little butterfly?” Hyunjin groans into your ear, his hips thrusting faster, harder, making the table shake from the impact and Felix just happily sitting down on the floor with his legs crossed, licking your clit, as if he’s enjoying some home-cooked meal served on a porcelain plate.

“Gonna cum, yeah? Gonna cum? Cum around my cock now, butterfly. Go ahead, baby. Give us that sweet little nectar you have for us,” Hyunjin says softly, his soothing voice and his hard thrusts contrasting. With the way his cock is drilling into you, you probably don’t even need the graceful kitten licks Felix is providing to your throbbing clit but god, it’s wonderful. 

“Gonna! Cum! Cum! Oh my God!” 

You’re shaking, rather violently. Your hands that were on the table slipped, and you nearly fell face flat onto the table if it weren’t for your two boyfriends’ hands holding you tightly. You can hear them chuckling at you, telling you how their little butterfly is being a little clumsy, Hyunjin then moaning so sexily when he feels your pussy clamping and cumming around his hard length, triggering his own orgasm. 

“Fuck fuck fuck I love you, butterfly, fucking hell fuck I have so much cum for you,” he groans, words all connected to one another, as if he’s rapping. You can feel the loads of cum spurting from his cock, filling you up, making your mind cloudy, only thinking of them and them alone. If you were sane enough, you could probably feel his cum seeping out from your cunt, onto Felix’s tongue, but you aren’t sane. 

You’re gone. Truly gone. In the clouds, happy and satisfied. 

You’re on cloud nine, euphoric. 

Hyunjin continues his thrusts for a while, needing it as much as you do. “Pretty butterfly, how are you always so fucking perfect for us, hmm?” he says breathlessly, slowing down his hips, ready to give Felix his fill. 

The moment Hyunjin pulls out from your cunt, you start panicking. You can faintly feel his cum trickling onto your inner thighs, making you cry. You want to be filled. No, no, you have to be filled. Why are they letting his cum spill? 

“No no no no no please, please no, I need- I need-” 

Your pleas come into a halt as you feel a hard cock collecting the spilled cum, making you whimper. 

“What, baby? Thought we’d waste Hyun’s cum like that? And make our baby suffer?” Felix tells you with that deep voice of his, “We’re not that cruel. We want our butterfly to be happy.” 

“And to make her happy,” he continues, cum-covered cock brushing against your sopping wet entrance, “I’m gonna fill her up this time.” 

Felix pushes his cock into you, earning a chuckle from Hyunjin when you let out a gasp, his own hand now working on his own cock as he watches his two lovers about to pleasure each other. 

“And I’m gonna make sure every single drop of our cum stays inside this pretty little fluttering cunt. Yeah, butterfly?” Felix’s voice only succeeds to make your mind hazier, succumbing into the headspace you’ve been trying to fight for a while. 

“Let go for us, butterfly. Fly away into that space you know you want to be,” Felix soothingly asks you, like he doesn’t already know the answer. 

Hyunjin, with his hand rubbing the tip of his cock, teasing himself, adds, “We’ll catch you, butterfly - we always do, don’t we? Now, enjoy what your next owner is going to give you, yeah?” 

Just like that, you let go. You’re ready to fly - only with them, though. Only with them. 

Your two lovers who let you flap your wings and are always ready to catch you when you fall.

Maybe you’d draw this next, who knows, right?  

This is also dedicated to these beautiful souls @feverjk @lacedfairy @seohotbinnie @kagomekirigiri @5sos-wdw @operation-steal-chans-laptop @ughbehavior @derinxfam @cherry-0420 @bunnyxoxodarling @compersian @luv-quinn @comet-falls @hello-stranger24 @bluebinniez @hanjiphile @uhohjinnie @svintsandghosts @loeyscock , thank you for always being so patient with me even when i don't deserve it. i feel that this fic is on the comforting side, so i want to dedicate to everyone who needs it! thank you for your support <3 you don't have to read, but know that you're always on my mind ♡

the way i'm obsessed with this whole series

playing with fire (part 5)

word count: 19k

angst, fluff, smut 

(part 4) (series masterlist)

your first real wedding shoot, not some drunken experience with a tipsy bride and sneaky, charismatic boyfriend, was one of the greatest things you’d ever experienced.

the moment you walked into the church, the pews lined with pastel pink ribbon and flowers, you knew it was gonna be a good day.

it was the distraction you needed from your awkward morning, waking up beside yunho and feeling his presence against your back.

his neck fanned your skin in such a familiar but foreign way, waking that way with seonghwa each and every morning but this time feeling very different. 

Keep reading

can’t get you off my mind

all good love stories start with a drunk stranger, don’t they?

warnings: mentions of alcohol, fem!reader

genre: fluff, comfort

word count: 4k

it starts at a bar. 

or really, it starts with a man at a bar. one that you’ve seen before in passing, a familiar face in a sea of more familiar faces. someone who you’ll later learn is one third of your best friend changbin’s production team, someone who you should have met years ago probably, someone who you would find is the perfect puzzle piece that fits into your jagged edges.

but right now, he is just a man at a bar with a beer in hand and a ridiculously dopey smile on his face. 

“marry me, please,” he says, absolutely serious but it’s a bit diluted from the way his words were slurred around the edges. “or i’ll have to kidnap you.”

“excuse me?” you raise a brow at him, his image swimming a bit as you turn your head to fully take him in. you’re not drunk, but youre a couple glasses of wine deep and you’re not known for being fully articulate whilst sober anyways. 

“i swear i’m going to marry you,” he says, eyes wide as he looks at you. “you might be the most perfect person i’ve ever seen.”

you’re not overly fond of men you haven’t met hitting on you, but this one seems a bit harmless. if you ignored the part where he said he would kidnap you. at least he wasn’t grabbing onto you or trying to touch you - that would have sent your fist flying towards his face and probably a swift exit from the bar. it was a little weird that you didn’t find him weird, but in retrospect you must have known, even then. 

“okay, listen,” you put your hands on your hips, giving him an unimpressed look. “if you find me when you’re sober, ask me again and maybe i’ll reconsider.”

“okay,” he nods, hair moving along with his movement like a puppy’s ears. “i can do that. i’ll find you, i promise. i’m gonna marry you, did you know?”

“so i’ve heard,” you roll your eyes, already feeling a bit fond about him. you didn’t think you’d meet him again, but you were sure that you’d look at this night with a fond smile later. 

he sends you the brightest smile you think you’ve ever seen on a person and scampers off, and you stand rooted to that one sticky spot in the bar for longer than you want to admit.

–

he’s in the back of your mind when you wake up the next morning, in a better mood than most - you never liked waking up early, it always took you a good hour and some coffee to be able to stand without grimacing. this morning though, you float around your apartment as you get dressed with a small smile on your face. 

a cute stranger who kept his boundaries and called you perfect? that wasn’t something that happened often, at least not to you. 

the floatiness followed you all the way through your morning routine until you found your feet stopping outside the coffee shop that you and changbin all but owned. you had no stock in it, but you’re sure that you supply them at least half of their revenue, you probably sit on their rickety chairs more often than your actual couch at home. this place has nursed you through every college class and job interview preparations and beyond, and if it ever closed you might lose time off of your life span. 

your movements from the door to the counter to your usual seat were robotic, muscle memory taking over while your head did somersaults through the clouds. it’s only when you take the first sip of coffee, the bitterness and heat hitting your tongue in a delightful dance, that you notice it. 

another man is sitting next to changbin. a man that looks awfully familiar, and it takes you a moment to realize why. it’s the man from the bar. 

“changbin?” you keep your eyes on the other man as you direct your question at changbin, trying hard to keep your face neutral. “explain?”

“i’m chan,” the man interjects before changbin can answer, reaching his hand across the table for you to shake. it’s warm, his grip somewhere perfectly in the middle of too hard and too soft, and he lets go after an appropriate amount of seconds. despite the neutral passivity of the gesture, you feel something ignite within you, and it threatens to sputter out when you catch no spark of recognition in his eyes. was he that drunk last night that he doesn’t remember you? do his sober eyes not find you as perfect?

“he crashed at my place last night,” changbin’s voice filters through your turmoil, and you finally break away from chan’s gaze to level him with a look. “and he needed coffee, so i brought him along. chan, this is y/n, my best friend.”

the conversation that followed flowed more freely than the coffee dripping from the machines behind the counter, and you almost hate how much you like it. chan is a little goofy, the man from the previous night shining through moments of seriousness and rapt attention. 

by the time you had to leave to go to work you felt like you knew him. you learned where he lived (close to you!), that he worked with changbin (he’s a producer!), and that he loved all animals but he adored dogs (he has one named berry!). just an hour of casual conversation had led to you needing more of him in every aspect of your life, but still in the back of your head lived the thought of him not remembering you from the night before.

changbin leaves first, citing some meeting he had to run to in the middle of a yawn, and when you were left with chan the embarrassment began to set in. 

“i’m going to marry you,” he blurts out, startling you so much you almost jump out of your seat. 

“what?” you ask, a mixture of surprise and disbelief combining into a confusing vortex within your head - was he going to go through this again? you didn’t know if your heart could take it. 

“i mean, i remember you,” he says before you could awkwardly excuse yourself and commit to getting to work early for the first time in a year just to escape being in a room alone with him for much longer. “i’m sorry, i was just embarrassed. i didn’t want to make a fool out of myself in front of changbin.”

“oh,” your breath leaves you all at once and you slump into your chair, understanding hitting you like a train. “that makes sense? i think?”

“i’m going to marry you,” he repeats, a mischievous glint in his eyes, the boy from last night shining through. “one day. i’m going to do it.”

“take me on a date first,” you tease back, a genuine smile stretching across your lips when he laughs, a full bodied thing that drew in eyes from the patrons across the room. for once, you didn’t seem to care that others’ eyes were on you. he made you feel comfortable. 

“what are you doing tomorrow?” his mouth turns upwards into a beautiful smile that you can’t help but return. 

“eager, are we?” you open your phone, sliding it across the table with the new contact page open on it. “i’m free.”

“you’re the most perfect person i’ve ever laid eyes on,” he says, as serious and genuine as the way he had proposed to you last night as he taps his number into your phone. “sorry if i’m a bit desperate.”

“don’t apologize,” you take your phone back, making a mental note to text him later. “i like it, for some unearthly reason. you’re cute, chan.”

the sound of his delighted laugh follows your footsteps all the way to work. 

— 

he picks you up for your first date at noon, right on the dot. he wasn’t a minute late, a polite knock sounding through your apartment just as the hour turned, as if he had been waiting and watching the time outside the door. 

god, is everything about this man endearing? 

he’s wearing shorts and a light sweater, looking like something out of a posh magazine. his hair is curly and swept off his forehead and he’s wearing a smile with the most adorable dimples shining through. 

he leads you to his car and you have to hold back an impressed whistle. you knew changbin and his team did well for themselves, the name 3racha all over the credits of songs on the radio, but this car was nice. you were going to have a talk with changbin about why he still drove the same beat up sedan he’s had since college but that was a thought for later. right now all you wanted to think about was the man who held the door open for you to slide into the passenger seat and was now holding your hand over the middle console. 

“do i get to know where we’re going?” you ask, peering at the map open on his phone but it tells you nothing more than that your destination was 15 minutes away and that he had to make a right turn in one mile. 

“it’s a surprise,” he says, voice a little nervous but it was masked with excitement. wherever he was taking you, you would be happy to be there if he was this happy the whole time. 

four songs on the radio later, one of which you teased him for when he revealed that he wrote it, he was pulling into a parking lot illuminated by flashing colorful lights. he had brought you to the fair. 

“i’ve never been to the fair!” you bounced a little in your seat, wriggling in excitement. “i’ve always wanted to go, how did you know?”

“lucky guess?” he shrugs, avoiding your gaze as he cuts the engine and unbuckles his seatbelt. 

“changbin told you, didn’t he,” you smile at the thought of chan asking his friend about what you’d like. it was cute, a word that you were probably exhausting when thinking about him even after a day of knowing him. 

“yes, but,” he flushes, the tips of his ears burning red. “i asked him after i had decided to come here, just to make sure it was a good idea. i didn’t steal it from him.”

“hey, it’s okay,” you squeeze his hand in yours that he had yet to let go of in what you hoped was a comforting gesture. you didn’t know what brought him calmness yet, but you wanted to learn. you wanted to learn everything about him. “now, take me to the fair, bang chan. i was promised a date.”

he finally meets your eyes again and he’s grinning so happily that you feel like you had just won a prize. who needed a fair when you had your very own carnival game right here? 

it turns out, you did. by the time the sun was beginning to set, your arms were full of various plushies that chan had won for you, each one earning him a hug and a kiss to his cheek. you treasured every single one, the fluttering in your chest when he stepped up to the booths to throw and shoot various things never ceasing. 

“let’s go to the ferris wheel,” you tug at him with your free hand, thanking the skies when you see no queue there. “i bet the sunset looks beautiful from the top.”

he’s quiet when he follows you there and into the carriage, his thigh pressing against yours as he slides in next to you, but you don’t notice in your excitement. it isn’t until the wheel ticks to the top and stops that he grabs your hand again, trembling a little. 

“chan? are you okay?” you ask, concern warping your voice as you turn towards him. your movement rocks the carriage a bit and he turns pale, ducking his head into your neck to hide. 

“yeah, ‘m okay,” he murmurs, his eyelashes ticking your skin when he blinks his eyes shut. “just don’t like heights very much.”

“oh my god, why didn’t you tell me?” you cry out, jumping a bit and regretting it when you rock the carriage again. “nevermind that, what can i do? it’ll go down soon, you’ll be alright.”

“just keep holding my hand?” he squeezes your fingers lightly and your heart melts. you may have made a joke that he was just trying to trick you into holding his hand any other time, but the fear in his shaking body was real and you’d never tease him for that. 

“of course,” you press a kiss to his hair, moving your other hand slowly to wrap around your intertwined fingers. the wheel begins to turn again, swaying the carriage as it descends. you keep your grip on his hand tight the entire time, all the way until you’re on your feet again on steady ground. 

“i’m so sorry,” you begin to say, the horror of subjecting him to his fear creeping up now that the crisis has passed. 

“i’m going to marry you,” he says, cutting off your apology and lifting your hands to his mouth so he could press a kiss to the back of yours. “no one’s ever been able to keep me that calm. thank you.”

you were left speechless after that and all you could do was smile at him, the ghost of it not leaving your face for the rest of the night. 

–

your thirty first date with chan ends with you crying into changbin’s arms, utterly confused and the feeling of despair creeping up your veins. you had met him your cafe as you had done several times since the fair, but when you arrived he wasn’t there. he came late, dark storms in his eyes and a hard set to his jaw and you didn’t understand what had made him like that. the usual smile and twinkle in his eyes were missing, and when you and asked him about what was wrong he had snapped at you in a way you hadn’t been talked to in years. 

you had left after that, brushing him off when his eyes had widened and he reached for you while calling out your name. you know that you should have given him a chance to explain, but at the time you were too hurt to consider it. 

you made your way to changbin’s apartment without thinking, your feet taking you to safety before your head could catch up. changbin had taken one look at your face before wrapping you up in his arm, walking you to his couch so he could cuddle you properly while words spilled out of you like a leaky faucet. you felt like you were back in college, crying and blubbering over a boy who had rejected you at a party, and you hated it. 

you didn’t notice changbin sending an angry text to chan, but the sound of changbin’s door opening with a bang startled you out of your tears. chan bursts in like a whirlwind, his hair sticking up at weird angles and a look of panic on his face as he takes you in. he reaches the couch in a few strides and falls to his knees in front of you, holding a crumpled bag from the cafe in his hand and taking your cheek gently into his other. his thumb wipes at the tear tracks there and you could practically taste the guilt emanating off of him. 

“love, i am so sorry,” he starts, ignoring changbin when he scoffs at the apology. “i shouldn’t have snapped at you, i had no right to do that. i got some bad news this morning and i wasn’t feeling my best, and i should have been honest with you. i’ll never do anything like that again, please forgive me? i’ll do anything.”

it was more his voice than his words that did it - he sounded so desperate, like he was trying to hold

onto a ledge that was crumbling, threatening to hurl his body into eternal nothingness. you knew him, you knew he was sorry, and against your first instinct you trusted him when he said he wouldn’t do it again. 

“is that an almond croissant?” you eye the bag in his hand. 

“it’s two almond croissants,” he nods fervently, his hair swishing back and forth with the movement. you sit up, sliding out of changbin’s arms and onto the floor in front of chan. chan’s arms replace changbin’s easily when you lean into him, and it feels like coming home. 

“it’s not like i have a nice couch you could be sitting on,” changbin mutters as he leaves, shaking his head fondly at the two of you before making himself scarce. 

chan kisses you, cradling your head gently into his hands, and they’re so warm. he slides his lips against yours, slowly like he’s taking his time memorizing the planes of your mouth to commit to memory. even after kissing him dozens of times you still find new things to learn about each other. 

“i swear,” he says, pulling away to meet your eyes. “i’m going to marry you, someday.”

“keep getting me croissants as apologies and we’ll see,” you say, sniffling into his neck. 

—

your eighty seventh date was spent in your bed, your head spinning like both hands on a clock simultaneously and your body exuding more sweat than you ever have. 

chan is wringing out a cool cloth to place on your forehead and it feels so nice that you moan. 

“i’m sorry,” you mutter, and chan has lost count of the amount of times you’ve said it at this point. “we had a date and i ruined it.”

“we were going to see a movie,” he says, running a hand up and down your spine. “and we will. we don’t need a movie theater when we have a screen right here, hmm?” 

“but the popcorn,” you complain, closing your eyes in bliss when he runs a hand through your hair, scratching gently at your scalp. an apology for being so sweaty was at the tip of your tongue but you hold it back in favor of enjoying the feeling of his touch. 

“i’ll make you all the popcorn you want when you’re feeling better,” he promises, dropping a kiss to the side of your head. “for now, how does soup sound?” 

“popcorn soup?“ you ask, a wave of dizziness taking over your body; if you weren’t lying down already, you’re sure that too would be falling over. 

“yeah, baby,” and even in your delirium the fondness in his voice was prominent. he couldn’t hide it even if he tried. “i’ll make you some popcorn soup. get some rest okay?”

you’re asleep before he leaves the room, and you only wake up when he shakes your shoulder a bit and helps you into an upright position. he feeds you bites of what is definitely not popcorn soup after putting a movie on your laptop, the screen sitting at the foot of your bed. the both of you fall asleep before the movie finishes, but you don’t mind. 

he stays with you for days, making you soup and tea and toast and feeding you medicine and being an all-around angel as he nurses you back to health. by the time you’re better you think you’ve fallen back in love with him several times. 

as you had expected and warned him about, he catches your sickness the next week, and now it’s your turn to be his nurse. you try and do the same job he did, but his delirium seems worse. the silver lining is that his fever isn’t as bad, so you’re babysitting a babbling boyfriend more than a sick one. 

the night before his fever breaks is the worst, since he doesn’t even recognize you. you shake your head at his silliness when he asks who you are and calls you pretty. you smile when he takes your hand in his and asks you to come closer. 

you tear up when he tells you that he has a girlfriend that he loves very much and so even though you’re pretty he can’t do anything else because his girlfriend is the prettiest one in the whole world. you let a tear slip when he tells you that he can’t wait to propose to his girlfriend and that he’s going to marry her someday. 

you tell him that you have a boyfriend that you're going to marry someday, trusting that he wouldn’t remember it in the morning. 

—

your hundredth and fifth date was not unlike your fifth, or your tenth, or your ninetieth. two and a half years later, you were just as endeared by him and he was just as obsessed with you - even more so, if it were possible. 

he takes the time to tell you how gorgeous you look when he picks you up just like he does on every date, and you hide your disgustingly fond smile for him behind his back like you do every time you see him. 

he parks and runs around the car to let you out like he does every time you habit this restaurant, a little fancier than your usual best but it was a favorite of the both of yours - across the street from the bar the two of you had met at. 

you start walking before he does, letting him jog to meet you and complain about how you left him, just like you do every time. before him. you might have thought the monotony would have gotten tiring, but he had a fantastical ability to make every moment feel like the first despite their practiced nature. 

he calls your name from behind you right on schedule and you hum in acknowledgement, turning towards him absentmindedly. the second you lay eyes on him you’re completely alert, though; he isn’t jogging after you, but rather he’s kneeling on the sidewalk, a small box in his hands as he smiles up at you. 

“i’ve told you that i’m going to marry you more times than i can count,” he starts, eyes shining like the stars twinkling in the night sky above you. “but this time i’m asking you.”

“chan,” you choke out, hands coming up to cover your mouth as it quivers. tears spring to your eyes and you silently curse yourself - you always thought you’d be level headed when you got proposed to, but nothing could have prepared you for this, not even the thousands of declarations he had made to you prior. 

“i love you. you’re the only one in the entire universe that i need more than blood or breath, you’re the song that runs through my heart and the fire that leads my path when i’m lost,” his voice is thick, like he’s trying to hold back his emotions long enough to get his words out. “i never thought that i would feel so strongly for someone, i never thought that i deserved a love like this until i met you.”

he pauses as you walk closer to him, letting you approach him before he continues. 

“my love, my eternal light,” he’s tearing up now, blinking fast to keep the salty water at bay. “will you marry me?”

“chan,” you start, kneeling down next to him and taking his wrists in your hands. “i never told you this, but ever since that first day i knew. i knew that the drunk idiot that was hitting on me would be my husband.”

he chuckles, smiling delightedly as the tears finally spring from both of your eyes in unison.

“so?” he trails off, searching your face with his eyes, waiting. 

“oh!” you tighten your grip on him in an apology. “of course i’ll marry you, gosh i love you so much.”