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bbangpurin · 8 months

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today and everyday • lee minho

genre: stray kids lee know fluff. established relationship au.

synopsis: minho is really excited to celebrate your birthday with you, if only he got the day right.

warnings: none.

wc: 1.4k words.

notes: more self-indulgent than anything. submit a request/give me feedback/tell me anything here!

You wake up to Minho’s arms wrapped tightly around your middle, your back pressed against his chest as he places light kisses across the expanse of your shoulder blade, moving his lips slowly up to your neck and reaching the point where your neck and jawline meet. Your lips automatically curl into a smile, your eyes still closed as you relish in the love your boyfriend is giving you for no apparent reason this morning.

Minho hums in delight as he whispers in your ear a quiet, “Happy birthday, baby,” and you freeze, because you get it now. He thankfully doesn’t notice because he squeezes you again, before removing you from his grasp and turning to get out of your shared bed.

Your boyfriend moves off the bed and walks into the bathroom, and as you hear the faucet turn on while he begins to wash his face, you breathe out a sigh of relief. Because today is not your birthday — it’s tomorrow — and your overenthusiastic, excitable, sweet boyfriend must have gotten his days mixed up. You chuckle a little at how cute your Minho was, and think about how excited he must have been to be the very first person to greet you on your special day, even if he was wrong.

You pull yourself out of bed soon after, rubbing the tiredness from your eyes. After washing up and getting ready, you walk into your kitchen to see Minho pouring two mugs of coffee, plates of breakfast warm and ready for you to eat with him.

“Happy birthday, baby,” Minho says again, putting the coffee pot down and rushing over to wrap you in his arms again. “How did you sleep, bub?”

Minho is never this touchy, so you hold your tongue at correcting his mistake and squeeze him back tightly, telling him, “Good!”

“Good,” he responds, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “Are you hungry? I made this special for you.”

“You didn’t have to do so much,” you say, looking down at the pancakes and eggs and bacon on your plates. Minho had so clearly put so much thought into just the first few moments of your day. You weren’t sure how you deserved this.

“It’s the best day ever,” Minho says without a second thought, “because I get to celebrate you. Of course I had to do this much.”

You pout at your boyfriend’s words and say a quiet thank you before sitting at the kitchen counter with him and beginning to eat; the sweetness of the maple syrup from your breakfast is almost sweeter than Minho. The situation feels perfect — sunlight streaming through the windows of your kitchen, comfortable silence save for the clinking of your forks against your plates, your favorite boy eating across from you.

“I’m sorry I have practice today,” he says suddenly, breaking the peaceful quiet. “I really wanted to spend the whole day with you, but we really need to perfect this choreography before next week.”

You’re about to protest, about to tell him that he didn’t need to worry because your birthday was actually tomorrow, but Minho ruffles your hair and gets up from the counter to put his plate in the sink.

“I need to run, but I’ll see you after practice and we'll celebrate so much more then! I hope you have a really good day today, bub!”

You think Minho will be happy to know that you do end up having a really good day. You spend the day resting at home, ordering your favorite takeout for lunch and partaking in your favorite hobbies. You’re just about to start the next episode of the Netflix show you were watching when you hear the front door to your apartment open.

“Lovey?” You call out, getting up from the couch. You’re a little surprised that Minho’s home so early, when he usually comes home late after practice on days that he and the boys really have to nail a choreography quickly. Even if he thought it was your birthday, it was really unlike him to come home so soon. “You’re back so early?”

Minho is still standing near the front door frame, and when you meet eyes, Minho pouts and playfully whines, “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“What are you talking about?”

Minho pads over to you and wraps his arms around you, burying his face into the crook of your neck to hide his face, which is flushed in embarrassment.

“Why didn’t you tell me that your birthday is tomorrow?”

You can’t help the soft giggle that escapes your lips, to which Minho whines in a soft voice again, “Stop it.” He begins thrashing himself around lightly in your arms, and you squeeze him tightly as your giggle develops into a full-bodied laugh. You always think your boyfriend is cute, but you think this — him whining like a baby because he got your birthday wrong, resulting in him needing even more cuddles than usual — might be the cutest he’s ever been around you.

“Can you stop laughing?” Minho is still whining, but you hear the smile in his voice that tells you he thinks this is all funny too.

“I’m sorry, baby,” you respond, still trying to catch your breath between laughs. “You were just so excited.”

“I can’t believe you kept this from me!”

“I know, I’m sorry,” you say. You press a kiss to Minho’s cheek, and he tangibly softens in your hold. Sometimes he can’t believe himself just how in love he is with you.

“I’m not going to give you any of the gifts I was going to give you or do any of the things I planned for you tomorrow because you didn’t tell me,” Minho says with a hmph, and he pulls himself out of your grasp to check your reaction. Your lips are set in a pout, eyes wide like a puppy’s and now Minho is the one giggling at just how adorable you’re being.

“You were just so excited, I didn’t know how to tell you,” you say with a pout and Minho is engulfing you in a hug again as you bury your face into his chest. “It was so cute and special and you made me feel so loved and-”

“And I’m really excited to do it all again tomorrow,” he interrupts before pressing a kiss to your lips. “I got lucky and got to celebrate you twice.”

You blush and wrap your arms around Minho’s neck. “I love you a lot,” you say.

“I love you a lot too, baby,” Minho says back softly. “Today and everyday.”

“Okay, let’s practice the dance one last time before we wrap up for the day,” Minho says, running his fingers through his sweaty hair. The new choreography is tough, but miraculously, he and the boys are picking it up faster than he had expected. Thank goodness, he thinks, so he can get back to seeing you as soon as possible.

“We’re ending practice this early?” Hyunjin asks, a little shocked at the dance leader ending the schedule earlier than expected.

“It’s Y/N’s birthday today,” Minho says, unable to conceal his smile. “I want to spend as much time with them as I can today.”

“Isn’t their birthday tomorrow?” Seungmin asks matter of factly.

Minho scrunches his eyebrows in confusion, because why would his friend know his partner’s birthday better than he did? “No, it’s today,” he retorts.

“Wait, yeah,” Hyunjin adds. “When we practiced this last week, didn’t you say we had to practice really hard then so that we didn’t have to practice at all tomorrow specifically because it was Y/N’s birthday?”

“And you were going to take them on that birthday scavenger hunt?” Jeongin pipes in.

“What about your dinner reservations at their favorite restaurant?” Jisung asks.

“Weren’t you going to spend all day with them?” Changbin teases. “Didn’t you say that absolutely nothing would get in the way of that, so we just had to cancel?”

Minho is stunned listening to the members go on and on about all of the plans he now remembers making for your birthday — plans he must have talked through with them extensively if they could remember it all in this much detail. The boys are laughing now at Minho’s frozen state, a clear semblance of confusion splayed across his features.

“Did they not tell you or something?” Seungmin asks.

Minho shakes his head, and the boys hoot.

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bbangpurin · 8 months

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cruel summer • han jisung

genre: stray kids jisung angst + fluff. post-breakup au. (jisung x implied fem!reader)

synopsis: breaking up with jisung shouldn’t hurt as much as it does, because it’s not like you were ever dating.

warnings: small mentions of insecurity surrounding body image (wearing a new top for the first time and feeling insecure about shoulders/neckline). one mention of alcohol.

wc: 1.3k words.

notes: i've always been one to take inspiration from my real life in my writing and this is no exception </3 i poured my heart into this one, so i hope you like it! submit a request/give me feedback/tell me anything here!

What actually constitutes a breakup? You twirl the question around in your mind as you pack up your belongings in the apartment you rented in Seoul for the last few months for your summer internship. Can you say that you’re sad over a breakup with someone you were never in an established relationship to begin with? Can something be broken if it never really existed in the first place?

You mull over these queries as you pack the clothes you brought with you for the summer, picking up each individual top and set of bottoms and folding them gently before softly placing them into the chest you would be shipping back to your hometown. You pick up a top that you bought even before you moved to Seoul, that you had worn for the first time on your first date with Jisung.

You wondered if the top was too much for this date. You had spent an hour the night before planning out your outfit for this date, considering it was a casual dinner after work and you had packed it in your backpack to change into from your business casual clothes for work. The straps suddenly felt too thin, the neckline showing a little too much, and you were reminded why you had never worn the top before, but you told yourself that it’d be fine.

When you walked to the sushi restaurant Jisung had suggested you meet at, you remember the feeling that bloomed in your chest when your eyes met for the first time outside of the establishment. It felt warm, it felt right.

“Y/N?” He asked tentatively, and you nodded and maybe it was simply hearing your name said in his voice that was the beginning of the end for you. Maybe you fell right then and there.

He smiled as he opened the door for you, and as he gestured for you to walk in first, you heard him say, “I like your top.”

You look at the top for a little too long, its assigned meaning a little too much for you. You fold it as tightly as you can, making the garment so small that you can easily bury it under the other articles of clothing in your chest, tucked away so you won’t have to look at it anymore. It hurts a little too much, and you wonder if you’ll always associate that top with him.

You had met Jisung three months ago, when the two of you matched on a dating app after you moved to Seoul for your summer internship. It was established from the beginning that all you two would have was a summer thing — your profile explicitly stating that you’d be in the city for a few months, and Jisung asking what day you’d be leaving before you began planning your first date. A time limit seemed like the best way to protect your heart when you decided to meet him for the first time those fateful weeks ago. If anything, perhaps what happened between you two was only to be expected.

You finish packing your clothing chest, closing the lid and locking it tightly, before starting on your work-from-home desk area. Your eyes land on your work laptop, a singular sticker placed carefully on its cover.

You walked outside of your office building and saw Jisung’s car pulled over on the side of the street, just like he said he would be when he offered to pick you up after work. You didn’t have a car, so you appreciated having Jisung to drive you around.

“How was work?” He asked cheerfully when you slid into the passenger seat, skillfully maneuvering the car into drive and starting the drive to your apartment.

You always thought that the conversation flowed so easily with him. As you recounted your day, he slipped his hand into yours, interlacing your fingers together over the center console of his car. He squeezed your hand when you mentioned feeling frustrated with your boss and pressed kisses to the back of your hand every time he stopped at a red light. He always looked over at you a little too much, you thought, but you didn’t mind. You always felt so seen in his car.

Every now and then, a song you knew would come on in his car. Neither of you ever hesitated to sing along.

It’s too quiet in your apartment as you find a small box to place your desk things in. You think that you have too many stationery sets and file folders as you pack everything up, and you look back at your work laptop. You’ll have to return it to your office building before you go back to your hometown, but you’ve been putting it off. The small hamster sticker on the laptop was a gift from Jisung — a dig at your “naked,” sticker-less computer that he noticed the first time he came over. A part of you wants to keep the sticker, but you don’t know where you’ll put it. Maybe it’s better that it’ll be gone — it'd just be another remnant of the time-limited relationship you had with him and your internship and this city anyway.

But could you even say that you had a relationship with Jisung? The concept of a breakup without a relationship to break in the first place was too confusing for you to wrap your mind around. If you were never dating Jisung, how did he get the power to hold your heart? What did the lack of a label do, if it didn’t make your feelings any less real?

You try to comprehend how you can be feeling this way when you realize how ironic and painful it is that everything in your home still reminds you of him — the glasses in your cupboard cue a clink in your mind when you think of splitting cans of hard seltzer with him, the blanket sprawled across your couch a reminder of the hours you spent there lying in his arms, even the stairs leading into your apartment brings to mind the final moments of your nights together when he’d cup your face and press goodbye kisses to your lips.

Whenever Jisung left your house, you always walked him to the bottom of the stairs of your apartment complex. He always stood on the ground, you standing a step above so that your faces saw eye to eye. You always studied Jisung’s face the most at those moments, trying to commit each of Jisung’s features to memory so that if you closed your eyes and concentrated hard enough, you’d almost be able to picture it exactly.

You always wrapped your arms around his neck, his naturally coming around your waist. He always pressed his body to yours, and you always leaned your head onto his shoulder, burying your face into the crook of his neck. You always stayed like that for a while.

On the night that you knew would be your last, you hugged Jisung extra tightly at the bottom of your apartment stairs.

“I’m really glad I met you this summer,” you said, and you heard him whisper back a soft “Me too.”

“I’m sad that you’re leaving,” you confessed suddenly, even though he wasn’t the one leaving, and you buried your face into the crook of his neck like always. He moved one of his hands from your hips up to caress your head, rubbing your hair softly and hugging you tightly.

“Don’t be sad,” Jisung replied, in the same cheerful tone he always used when he talked to you. “We’ll keep in touch, I promise.”

But you know that promise is just the next thing of yours that Jisung will break.

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bbangpurin · 8 months

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get well soon • seo changbin

genre: stray kids changbin fluff. sick!reader au.

synopsis: Rx: seo changbin.

warnings: none.

wc: 600 words.

notes: haven't written in a bit but hope you like this short thing :") submit a request/give me feedback/tell me anything here!

The lights in your room suddenly felt a little too bright, causing you to squeeze your eyes shut and turn your body over in your bed and smushing your face into your pillow. You weren’t sure who exactly was interrupting your lovely midday nap until you felt a sweet rub on your shoulder and heard your boyfriend’s cautious voice, saying “Baby?”

You groan in response and Changbin lets out a soft chuckle as you pull your blanket even higher over your body.

“Are you ready to go soon, my love?” He asks, taking a seat at the foot of your bed and smiling at how cute you look under your thick white throw blanket. You look so soft and squishy, he thinks, and he can’t help but give your head a tiny pat.

“Go where?” You attempt to say, except it sounds more like a croak. You try clearing your throat, only to be met with a dull ache in the back of your throat, and with that you knew: you were sick.

Changbin seemed to figure it out too, as he turns you over to face him and lightly presses his fingertips to your forehead. “Baby, you’re burning up.”

“Where are we going?” You ask again, your voice strained and weak.

“Nowhere,” your boyfriend responds and stands up to walk into your bathroom. You hear him rummaging around your bathroom, moving bottles of cosmetics and toiletries around and an occasional, “Where the hell is it?,” before he returns to your bedroom with a damp towel he gently places on your forehead and sits back down.

“Cold,” you whine, and Changbin shushes you.

“How long have you been feeling like this?” He asks, and you’re a little ashamed to admit that the only reason you were napping in the first place was because you were hoping you could sleep off the cold you thought you had before your date with Changbin later that night.

“Not long,” you pout softly, closing your eyes, and Changbin tsks. “Okay, a while.”

“Why didn’t you call me over sooner?” Changbin asks, and underneath the teasing tone you hear in his voice that implies the front of his slight annoyance with having to care for you, you know that he’s genuinely upset that you didn’t ask him to come sooner. You know your sweet boyfriend better than anyone.

“I wanted to see you,” you confess softly, setting your lips into a more pronounced pout. “Really missed you.”

Changbin melts at your honesty, thinking that the fact that his sweet partner wanted to see him so badly that they tried to sleep off what was clearly more than just a cold before he came over might be the most precious thing you had ever done.

“You should’ve called me right when you felt bad, baby,” he brushes his fingertips along the crown of your head, pressing his lips to your head and frowning at the heat radiating off of your body. “I’m going to go get you some water and medicine, okay?”

“No,” you whine, gripping Changbin’s wrist as he moves to get off the bed again. “Don’t want you to leave me.”

“I’m going to go get some things to take care of you,” Changbin reassures you sweetly. “I’m not leaving you.”

“Promise?” Your weak voice breaks Changbin’s heart, but it shatters completely when he sees you straining to reach your pinky finger up to interlace with his. He really hates seeing you in pain.

He hooks his pinky with yours and squeezes tight — signifying a seal he'll never break. “I promise, my love.”

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bbangpurin · 8 months

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i saw stray kids at kcon yesterday and actually lost my mind... YANG JEONGIN- 🤬🤬🤬🤬🤬🤬🤬🤬🤬🤬🤬

#bbangpurin #skz #yang jeongin give me one chance please

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bbangpurin · 9 months

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pov: you're me and it's a few nights ago and the boy you're talking to is at your house and you're sad that you're not at the taylor swift concert and you're sitting on your couch together listening to music and you look up the surprise songs she played that night and she played "you are in love" so you groan in sadness and begin to mourn the loss of "you are in love" being performed without you in the audience and the boy has never heard "you are in love" before so you make him listen to it with you and his arms are wrapped around you and he's holding you to his chest as you lie with him in silence on the couch as he listens to "you are in love" for the first time, with you

#bbangpurin #taylor swift #you are in love #i'm so sorry i have been uninspired lately hence why i have not written anything in a while #i'm screaming about this though!

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bbangpurin · 10 months

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latte art • lee felix

genre: stray kids felix fluff. barista au.

synopsis: felix expresses his love in latte art.

warnings: none.

wc: 1.5k words.

notes: inspired by a coffee shop w cute latte art i visited for the first time today!! submit a request/give me feedback/tell me anything here!

Your ex boyfriend had recommended this coffee shop to you when you moved to this new city. You had mentioned needing to find a place to study that had a cute aesthetic, and on your first date with your ex, he had suggested going to this coffee shop on your next one.

The date was fine, you remember, because it was mainly overshadowed by just how cute the coffee shop was. The interior of the shop was filled with greenery — tiny bunches of carnations sat in vases on each table and the ceiling of the shop was covered in vines and leaves. The glass case at the front of the shop was filled with slices of soft sponge cakes, flaky croissants and sandwiches smeared with jams or layered with slices of meat and cheese. Everything looked so good — so good that you supposed the barista being so handsome shouldn’t have taken you by surprise.

The barista’s eyes widened at the sight of you, although you didn’t notice at the time. His heart sank at the sight of you obviously on a date with your (now ex) boyfriend. He had been admiring watching your eyes light up as you ogled at the different baked goods and perused the drink menu, whispering to your ex as you tried to decide what to get.

“Go ahead,” your ex had said to you as you stood at the register. You looked at the barista, who wore a handwritten name tag that read “Felix,” and smiled. He was really so handsome, and you figured that you shouldn’t be thinking that while on a second date, but you couldn’t help it.

“A matcha latte please,” you responded and Felix smiled as he punched in your order. Your ex ordered and paid for both of your drinks — something that just confirmed to Felix that you were on a date with this guy — and you walked to find a table with him.

Your drinks came out not long after — with cute latte art adorning the foam that topped both of the drinks,m; a ladybug design on your ex’s and a Jigglypuff Pokémon on yours. Felix remembers you squealing at the sight of your latte, immediately taking out your phone to take a picture. He smiled at how cute you were so effortlessly.

The latte was creamy and rich, you remember, and you remember thinking that you would be back here constantly. Your ex was fine — but he stood nothing against this new coffee shop he had introduced you to.

It’s honestly a shame that you’ll probably always associate this coffee shop with your ex, you think as you enter the coffee shop again now. You hadn’t been back for a while, only coming when you were still with your ex for cute latte art and a glance at the handsome barista. But now, you had a lot of studying to do and for some reason, your desk in your apartment and the local university’s library just weren’t going to cut it — you just knew that a big mug of matcha with animal latte art would be the perfect motivation to get your study grind on.

The bell on the door jingles as you walk inside, and you see that the coffee shop hasn’t changed since the last time you were there: the same carnations on each table, the same pastries in the glass case at the front, the same barista wiping down mugs behind the counter. You noticed that he’s dyed his hair a deep blue, which is maybe the only thing that’s different about him, because his eyes widen the same way they always did when he sees you.

Felix is surprised to see you when you walk in. You hadn’t been to the coffee shop in a while, and he had missed sneaking glances at you while you sat with your ex at tables he wiped down on each of his shifts. You had been one of his favorite customers, for no reason other than the passing smiles you’d give him when you ordered your matcha latte and the way you’d always squeal when you’d see what latte art was on the foam of your mug. He notices that you’re alone.

“Matcha latte right?” He asks when you approach the counter to order. He smiles at your visibly confused face and tentative nod as he punches in your order. He’s tempted to ask about your ex, but he holds his tongue as you pay and sit at a table.

Your matcha latte, served with a side of kindness from Felix, has a cute chicken as its latte art today. You smile when you grab it from the counter, taking out your phone to take a picture of it, before pulling out your laptop and plugging in your earphones to begin your study session. You feel yourself getting a lot of work done and time seems to fly by — so fast that you jump when you feel a soft tap on your shoulder.

You pull out one of your earbuds and look up to meet Felix’s big eyes. The coffee shop is darker than it was when you arrived, and when you look at the time, you realize it’s well past the establishment’s closing time.

“Shoot, I’m sorry,” you say quickly, beginning to gather your things. “I didn’t realize it got so late.”

“No worries,” Felix says, a smile audible in his deep voice. “You looked like you were really in the zone there, so I didn’t want to bother you, but I really have to close up now.”

“I’m so sorry,” you blush, and you’re not sure if it’s because you’re embarrassed or if it’s because of how close Felix is standing to you. “I’ll make it up to you somehow!” You begin to reach into your bag, looking for your wallet to tip him a few dollars for his extra time.

“I promise, it’s no big deal,” he says, shaking his head when you pull out the money. He picks up your mug and goes behind the counter to rinse it off. “Just come by again soon!”

You nod, packing up your things and beginning to head towards the door. You turn around and watch Felix put your cleaned mug back before he turns the lights off in the shop and follows you out. He closes the door behind both of you, locking the door.

“I’m Y/N,” you blurt out when he turns around.

“Y/N,” Felix repeats, and you nod. “Y/N who loves matcha lattes. You better come again soon, okay?”

You find yourself at the entrance to the coffee shop the following week. It was honestly sooner than you had expected to be back, but you told yourself that you still have a lot of studying to do and that your sudden return has nothing to do with Felix. You enter the store and see him, eyebrows furrowed as he makes a latte.

He looks up and meets your eyes, which immediately crinkle as you giggle when you see him smile in recognition. He finishes up the latte and rushes over to the counter.

“Y/N who loves matcha lattes,” he says, “you’re back so soon?”

“I had to,” you reply,” “to make it up to you for staying so late last time.”

Felix grins at that. “Matcha latte again?”

You nod and Felix punches your order into the machine. You begin to pull out your wallet but Felix shakes his head again. “It’s on the house.”

“Are you sure?”

“I’m positive.”

You thank the pretty barista and sit at a table. Felix calls your order soon after, and you retrieve your latte — the art in the foam being a precisely shaped heart that you somehow know was purposeful. You look up at Felix, who’s watching your reaction to the art he chose specifically for you, and his eyes are wide and waiting for you to say something.

“I like the heart,” you say. “It might be my favorite latte art yet.”

Felix beams. “I’m glad you came back.”

“Are you sure I can’t pay you for this?”

“Well,” he hesitates.

“Well?”

“You could go on a date with me sometime. Because, you’re not with that guy you’d come with before anymore, right?”

You blush at the mention of your ex. You had almost forgotten that he��s the reason you came to this coffee shop in the first place, and you were equally in disbelief that Felix had noticed him to begin with.

“I’d like that,” you say and Felix’s cheeks turn slightly pink at your acceptance, and you decide then that this coffee shop is no longer a place you’d associate with your ex — it’s a place that’s yours and Felix’s alone.

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bbangpurin · 10 months

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night in • hwang hyunjin

genre: stray kids hyunjin fluff. established relationship au.

synopsis: hyunjin's favorite thing is giving you kisses.

warnings: none really (just lots of hyunjin kissing y/n).

wc: 800 words.

Hyunjin gazes over at you from across the kitchen counter as you study late into the evening, eyes glazing over at your laptop as you struggle to crank out your essays and projects for your final few courses. Your eyebrows scrunch together in concentration as your fingers fly across the keyboard, and Hyunjin has the sudden urge to lean over and peck the space between your brow bones. It’s almost like the small kiss releases all the tension in your face as you blink and pull away in shock, your eyebrows relaxing along with your entire face.

Hyunjin giggles, his eyes crinkling together at how adorable you look, eyes still wide in surprise. “Take a break,” he says softly.

You shake your head, murmuring “I need to finish this.” He shakes his head at that, frowning at your stubbornness. Why would you focus on your coursework when he was right there, waiting to hold you while you watched movies together?

“You’re tired,” he responds. “I’ll make you tea and we can watch TV.”

“Baby,” you pout, “just ten more minutes, I promise. I need to send a draft of this tonight.”

Hyunjin whines and playfully stomps away, which makes you smile. Your boyfriend is so cute, and somehow, he’s the best motivator — your eyebrows knit together again as you work faster than you think you’ve ever worked before so you can join him on the couch sooner rather than later.

You’re still typing away when Hyunjin comes back to the kitchen. He opens the cupboard and pulls out two mugs and two tea bags, beginning to prepare the tea for your movie. And just as the tea finishes brewing, he hears you close your laptop shut and breathe a small sigh of relief. He turns and sees you looking at him expectantly, a small smile on your lips.

“Movie now?” You ask in a small voice and Hyunjin thinks you might be the cutest thing ever. He nods and moves around the kitchen counter to come up behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist and dropping another peck onto the crown of your head. You giggle and place your arms on top of his, grabbing your boyfriend’s hands and interlocking your fingers together.

Hyunjin releases you after lightly kissing your head again, moving back to grab the mugs of tea and follow you to the couch. He places the tea on the coffee table that sits in front of your couch and sits with you as you find the movie he had mentioned wanting to watch earlier that week. He wraps his arm around your shoulder, drawing circles into the soft skin as you lean your head against his chest.

You make it too easy, he thinks — too easy for him to keep kissing you. Every part of you is so kissable, he thinks — that space between your eyebrows, your forehead, the back of your head that’s always within reach when you cuddle on your couch and watch movies together. He interlocks his fingers with yours and brings your hand to his lips, pressing them against the back of your hand softly before playing lightly with your fingers. Hyunjin could do this all day, he thinks.

The movie is good, but you’re suddenly exhausted, the intense studying from earlier suddenly hitting you. You feel your eyes beginning to fall shut as the movie keeps playing, not without Hyunjin noticing. You look so cute as you begin to drift off in his arms, and he can’t help himself from kissing your head again, lips moving down to the back of your neck, the curve of your shoulder. You sigh in contentment as you feel him kissing you all over, his arms still holding you tight against his body.

“Tired,” you mumble and Hyunjin breathes a chuckle. He still wonders how he got so lucky to love someone as adorable and sweet as you.

“You worked really hard earlier, baby, of course you’re tired,” he says and you hum in response.

“Sleeping now,” you whisper and the last thing you remember before drifting off is the feeling of your boyfriend pecking your cheek.

You walk Hyunjin to the front door of your apartment the next morning. You stand in the doorway together, his arms wrapped tightly around your waist.

“Text me when you get home,” you say, head tilted up to look into your boyfriend’s eyes. He nods and hugs you tightly to his chest, placing his chin on top of your head and squeezing you close. He pulls away and drops a final peck onto your forehead.

He’s about to open the door and head out when he turns to you, asking “Same time tomorrow?”

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bbangpurin · 10 months

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bad day • yang jeongin

genre: stray kids jeongin fluff. established relationship au.

synopsis: jeongin makes every bad day better.

warnings: none.

wc: 600 words.

notes: my work day was not the best today! i wish i had a jeongin to make my days better </3

Today sucked: You woke up late for work and couldn’t figure out what to wear. You missed your bus and therefore, were late to a really important meeting. Your boss chewed you out after the meeting and your annoying coworkers were being even more annoying than usual on your lunch break. Your computer died during the post-lunch slump and you spent the rest of your afternoon with the IT department trying to fix it, missing out on valuable work time on a project due next week. You cried on the bus ride home (thankfully, you didn’t miss this bus). All you wanted all day was to go home and forget this day ever happened, so turning your key and unlocking your front door feels even better today than it usually does.

You hear soft humming coming from your kitchen as you enter your apartment, and suddenly, your day feels as if it’s gotten so much brighter. Your boyfriend is singing to himself as he rummages around the spice rack in your tall kitchen cabinet, wearing his favorite grey hoodie that you love to steal.

You quickly run up to approach Jeongin from behind, wrapping your arms around his waist. He quickly looks back to see you, leaning your forehead against his back and gripping him tightly.

“Hi baby,” he says softly, twisting his body to face you. He puts his arms on your waist and squeezes you close, engulfing you in his warmth and his love. “How was your day?”

“It was,” you start, your voice catching in your throat, “so bad.” Tears brim at the corners of your eyes, falling slowly down your cheeks as you begin to cry quietly into Jeongin’s broad chest.

“Awww, baby,” Jeongin pouts. “That bad, huh?” He moves one of his hands to your head, patting it softly in the way he knows you like. His heart breaks at your sniffles as you shake from your crying in his arms.

You two stay like that as you continue crying, Jeongin’s strong arm holding you close and his hand continuing to softly pat your head in comfort. Every now and then, he drops a tiny peck onto the top of your head, whispering “It’s okay’s” and “I’ve got you’s” to you that only make you cry harder.

Eventually, your breathing slows and your body slumps against Jeongin’s again, exhausted from the crying. Jeongin moves his hands to your back and rubs slowly, as if he’s trying to physically loosen and remove the worries from your tired frame. You peel away to look at your boyfriend’s face, which is laced with concern at his sad partner.

“Better?” He asks tentatively, still running his hands down ur back. You nod, sighing deeply and his eyes crinkle into a relieved eye smile at your visual shift in mannerism.

“Are you hungry at all? I was just about to start making dinner,” he asks, beginning to turn back around to the spice rack, before you wrap your arms around him again and murmur a soft “no.”

“You don’t want to eat, baby?” He asks, concern beginning to fill his voice again.

“Just want to cuddle,” you reply softly, burying your face into his chest again. You feel Jeongin’s chest move softly as he lets out a small chuckle.

“Just want me to hold you like this?” You nod, and he complies. He wraps his arms back around you and pulls you close against him, dropping another quick kiss onto your forehead. “I’m sorry you had such a bad day. It makes me sad seeing you so sad.”

“It’s okay,” you say softly, looking up at the boy you know would give the world to you if he could. “It’s so much better now.”

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bbangpurin · 10 months

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press play • kim seungmin

genre: stray kids seungmin angst + fluff. post-breakup/established relationship au. (seungmin x implied fem!reader)

synopsis: certain songs remind you of the past you shared with seungmin.

warnings: none.

wc: 1.6k words.

notes: was hit with inspiration on the bus! all of these songs are actually taken from a playlist an ex made for me LOL.

It was almost silent — the only sound filling the air between you and Seungmin being the soft whir of his broken air conditioner — in his car when he told you about the playlist he made for you for the first time. It was full of songs he thought you’d like, songs that reminded him of you, and songs that he loved for no reason in particular.

It was after your third date — a short hike to a local lookout where he had planned for you to watch the sunset together despite a cloudy weather forecast — that he told you about the playlist. He had parked in a space near the entrance to your apartment building like he did after each of your dates so far. Every time, you would sit for almost an hour after the date was over, talking and talking, because neither of you wanted your time together to end.

It was a simple love — one in which you always felt content simply being with Seungmin. The playlist reflected that somehow, which is how you knew Seungmin saw your relationship the same way you did — as a source of comfort, of safety, of home.

“Pull out your phone,” Seungmin had said as you were about to get out of his car after an hour of debriefing post-hike. “I want to send you something.”

You nodded and watched Seungmin send you the link to the Spotify playlist.

“What is this?” You asked.

“You said you’ve always wanted someone to make you a playlist, right?” You nodded. “So I made one for you.”

With that, you almost melted — your heart fluttered in a way that it never had before and you cast your gaze on the boy you were pretty sure you were beginning to love. His eyes crinkled as he smiled at your reaction, the glisten in his eyes making him seem all the more endearing to you.

“Listen to it when you get back,” he said and you nodded excitedly, “and think about me while you do.”

“I always think about you,” you said instinctively, and you thought you should be embarrassed for confessing something like that so fearlessly, but Seungmin’s smile and nod in understanding ensured you that you had nothing to be scared of with him. “I’ll go now.”

“I love you,” Seungmin said softly, but suddenly.

“I love you too,” you said naturally, and he wrapped his arms around you in a tight hug before you left his car and walked up to the front door of your apartment, ready to listen to the playlist for the very first time.

The playlist sounds different now when you listen to it. You and Seungmin had broken up nine months ago, for reasons you still don’t really understand.

Each of the songs that he included in his playlist — a tangible representation of the love he had for you — remind you of him in some way: a flashback of a memory together, a weird depiction of some facet of his body or his personality, a false hope for the love you thought would last forever.

“I just don’t feel a spark with you anymore,” he had said, sitting with you in his car parked in the parking space in front of your apartment after what you realized was your final date.

“I don’t understand,” you replied. “I thought things were going well.”

“I think we’d be really good friends,” Seungmin said. “And you’re great, and someone will love you one day. But I don’t think I’m that person.”

“You said you loved me before,” you responded in a frantic attempt to understand what exactly had shifted in your boyfriend’s mind. “What changed?”

“I should go,” he said sternly. “I’m really sorry.”

When Haewon texted you that she ran into Seungmin with a new girl at the grocery store two weeks ago, it felt natural for you to listen to the playlist again. When Jisung called you after seeing Seungmin and the new girl walking his dog around your shared neighborhood, the playlist was the first thing you turned to. As you saw Seungmin tangibly move on with his life without you, the playlist served as the sole thing that proved to you the love you had shared with him was real.

You see Seungmin and his new girlfriend today on the bus. He looks good and happy in a way that he looked with you. It hurts, especially seeing how beautiful and content his girlfriend appears. You hate that you feel jealous of her — jealous that she’s the sole receiver of Seungmin’s love now, that she will probably never feel the heartache you feel right now as you watch them.

They slide into a pair of seats near the front of the bus, close to the front doors. They don’t see you, you don’t think, too enamored with each other to notice anything around them. They don’t notice you pull out your phone and open Spotify. They don’t notice you plug your AirPods in and press play.

“Late Night Talking” reminds you of when you first started dating Seungmin. You’d lie in your bed every night and text Seungmin until the sun came up. You’d discuss everything — your days, your most irrational fears, your astrology charts, your favorite animals and foods and colors, your dreams. You never felt tired. Eventually, your late night texting became late night phone conversations, which became late night FaceTimes. Your favorite calls would be the ones where you’d fall asleep on the line, and you’d wake up the next morning to a sleeping Seungmin on your phone screen, the FaceTime 10 hours in. His fluffy hair would be rumpled and sticking up from a night of tossing and turning in his bed with his phone on all night. You thought he looked the cutest when he’d wake up and smile at you. You imagined the days when you’d wake up to each other without screens between you two.

“Cruel Summer” reminds you of one of your favorite dates with Seungmin. You took a long drive one night, driving up and down the highways surrounding your city with no cares in the world. Seungmin didn’t know a ton of Taylor Swift songs, but this one was always his favorite and he never let you forget it, especially as he belted it with you on this particular drive. His voice was loud and clear, harmonizing so perfectly with yours as your voices filled the car on the drive. You lowered the window of the passenger seat, letting the crisp air blow through the car. Seungmin had reminded you to bring a jacket when he picked you up from your apartment earlier that night, knowing that you get cold easily. Of course, you had forgotten your jacket, and the cold air bit against your skin. Your cheeks were turning red from the sharp wind, to which Seungmin tsked, shrugging off his hoodie at the next stoplight and passing it to you. You had never felt so warm.

“Vintage” reminds you of the little things that comprised your first love. You remember every good morning text and the specific emoji Seungmin would use to sign each one. You remember the way Seungmin’s arms felt wrapped around your body when you watched movies late at night, the way he’d pat your head endearingly when you smiled at him so brightly, the way his lips felt against your forehead, your nose, your neck. You remember how happy your friends said you looked when you were with him, how sad your friends said you looked when you were apart. You reminisce about him when you listen to this song — in a way, you wonder if its inclusion in the playlist signaled the beginning of the end.

Your bus stop approaches suddenly. You pull on the yellow string laced around the bus, signaling to the driver that you need to get off at this stop. The bus pulls over slowly, and you stand from your seat to move towards the front of the bus to leave. You weave your way through the bus’s skinny center aisle, your arms accidentally brushing the sides of people sitting in seats on either side of the bus. You apologize softly yet profusely as you move forward.

“Sorry,” you say quickly as you brush past Seungmin and his girlfriend to depart the bus as quickly as possible.

“Y/N?” You hear him say, and you step out of the bus, knowing that if you look back at him, you don’t know if you’ll be able to leave him again.

“Who was that?” Seungmin’s girlfriend asks, leaning her head on his shoulder as the bus resumes motion.

“No one,” he answers. “Rest, babe.”

She closes her eyes, head growing heavier on Seungmin’s shoulder as she falls asleep. Seungmin leans his head back, remembering how your head would feel on his chest when you’d fall asleep in your bed together.

He pulls out his phone and opens Spotify. He reaches into his pocket for his wired earbuds, plugs them in and presses play on the only playlist he’s ever made for someone else — the playlist he made for his first love.

He listens, and he remembers.

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bbangpurin · 11 months

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eri. she/her. 22. eng/jpn. minho + jeongin lover.

thank you for stopping by ♡ (give me feedback/ask me anything here + masterlist in read more!)

bang chan.

cookies and cream (fluff + husband/dad au)

lee minho.

no you don't (fluff + established relationship au)

today and everyday (fluff + established relationship au)

seo changbin.

get well soon (fluff + sick!reader au)

hwang hyunjin.

night in (fluff + established relationship au)

han jisung.

the stars (angst + reflective breakup au)

cruel summer (angst + post breakup au)

lee felix.

latte art (fluff + barista au)

kim seungmin.

press play (fluff/angst + post breakup au)

yang jeongin.

bad day (fluff + established relationship au)

#bbangpurin #navigation #masterlist

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bbangpurin · 11 months

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cookies and cream • bang chan

genre: stray kids bang chan fluff. husband/dad au. (bang chan x fem! reader)

synopsis: in which chan goes on a spontaneous ice cream date with his little family.

warnings: none.

wc: 900 words.

notes: another fic i wrote a while ago :"). so proud of skz's s-class promos!

“Can we get ice cream after this?” you hear your son softly ask your husband, tugging lightly on the hem of his T-shirt. You’re out for dinner with your parents, and you can tell the kids are getting restless.

As your son and daughter look at Chan with a mixture of admiration and pleading, he looks over and makes eye contact with you. He raises an eyebrow, as if to silently ask, ‘Is it okay, babe?’ You shrug and smile.

“Yeah, we can after,” Chan replies, to the delighted squeals of your children. “After dinner though. Just wait a bit longer.” He shushes them, and they look at each other, eyes glowing at the prospect of ice cream after the long night.

After dinner is over, you say goodbye to your parents and Chan starts the car to drive you and your family to a nearby ice cream parlor.

“Ice cream!” Your son squeals. Chan chuckles, his laugh full and deep.

“Yeah, bud, I didn’t forget,” Chan reassures him. The drive is short, and you arrive at the shop quickly.

The kids rush to the glass cases and admire the myriad of flavors: pink-tinted strawberries and cream, tan java chip, swirls of chocolate fudge in pure white vanilla.

“What are you gonna get?” You ask your husband softly as you stand in line, the kids deliberating with each other.

“Green tea, probably,” He responds. You know green tea is his favorite. “What are you feeling like, darling?”

“I’m not that hungry, actually,” you reply. “I was planning on just stealing some of yours.” He shoves you slightly when he hears that but nods in approval, like you knew he would.

“Dad! Dad!” Your son says excitedly. “It’s our turn! Come on!”

The worker smiles at your son’s excitement, which doesn’t go unnoticed by Chan. “Sorry about him; he’s a bit excited,” Chan says with a laugh.

“Understandably,” the worker replies. “I’m always excited for ice cream too.” This makes the children laugh.

“Alright guys, what do you want?” Chan asks, looking down at the kids, who order their cones proudly.

“Anything else for you?” You hear the worker ask after handing the kids their cones. You don’t hear your husband’s response as you usher your kids to a nearby table.

“Be careful, guys,” you say. “Don’t drop your ice cream.” You sit them down and grab some napkins before sitting with them. “How is it?”

“Yummy!” “So good!”

“I’m glad,” you say, giggling. Their faces, smeared with ice cream, are so joyful, that you can’t help smiling with them. You see Chan gazing over at you and the kids from the cashier as he pays, but miss the loving gaze in his eyes as he observes you.

He pulls a chair from the table next to yours and plops down with you.

“What did you get, Dad?” Your daughter asks as she licks her cotton candy-flavored ice cream cone, looking at the cup of ice cream Chan places on the table between you two. There are two spoons in a cup of ice cream that definitely isn’t green tea flavored.

“Cookies and cream,” He replies, taking one of the spoons and beginning to eat.

“Your favorite, right?” Your son says.

“No, isn’t Dad’s favorite green tea?” His sister asks.

“But he always gets cookies and cream! He only gets green tea when he buys us ice cream without Mommy.”

“Cookies and cream is Mommy’s favorite,” Chan responds simply. He looks at you and pushes the cup closer. “Eat, love.”

“If cookies and cream isn’t your favorite, why do you always get it?” Your daughter asks incredulously.

“Because Mommy likes cookies and cream,” Chan says. “And I like Mommy.” He turns back to you as you start to take small bites of the scoop.

“When I’m older, I hope someone who really likes me always gets cotton candy ice cream, because that’s my favorite, just like Dad always buys Mom her favorite!” Your daughter declares then.

“I’ll buy you cotton candy ice cream!” Your son says, and you all laugh.

After you finish eating, you grab more napkins and leave the shop. Chan starts the car and you head home.

“What do you all say to Dad?” You ask before your family enters the house upon returning.

“Thank you, Dad!” “Thanks for the ice cream!”

The children run into their rooms once you unlock the house and once you’re alone, you feel Chan wrap his arms around your waist in a tight back hug. You spin around to face him and he places his large, warm hands back on my hips.

“Thank you for the ice cream, Chan,” you say, looking up at him. “Thank you for this.”

“I’m in love with you,” he responds suddenly. You must have reacted in shock, because Chan simply laughs before placing a soft kiss on your forehead and pulling you into a hug. He rests his chin on the top of your head. “In love with you and the kids.”

You smile and rest your head on his shoulder, moving closer into his hug. He begins to rub your back and shoulders and you sigh, allowing yourself to relax in his protecting arms.

"I’d do anything for our family, my love,” Chan says. And with that, you know just how in love he really is.

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bbangpurin · 11 months

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no you don't • lee minho

genre: stray kids lee know fluff. established relationship au.

synopsis: in which minho finds it adorable that you can't handle spicy food.

warnings: none.

wc: 500 words.

notes: wrote this a while ago and wanted to share it :") s-class has taken over my brain, it's so catchy 😸

The air is crisp and your breath fogs as you clasp your boyfriend’s hand and walk out of the train station towards his apartment.

“Are you cold, babe?” Minho looks down at you as you walk, concern welling up in his big eyes.

“I’m okay,” you reply, teeth chattering. He raises his eyebrows and shrugs his arm around you, pulling you against him as you continue walking.

It was twilight, the sun not yet completely down, casting everything in the bustling city with a strange glow. Store sign lights had begun to turn on, and you notice Minho begin to walk a bit faster towards a tiny shop with blinking lights.

“Let’s stop for tteokbokki,” Minho says, pulling you into the tiny store. The interior of the shop is warm and you sit at a tiny table tucked in the back of the establishment. The yellow light of the store is charming and Minho quickly explains your orders to the elderly woman working. Before you know it, two piping hot bowls of tteokbokki are placed in front of you, and you watch Minho immediately begin eating. He looks adorable with his cheeks full of rice cakes, but you hesitate before picking up your own spoon.

“What’s wrong?” Minho asks, spooning rice cakes into his mouth. You smile and shake your head, ashamed to confess your embarrassingly low spice tolerance. You take a deep breath and reassure yourself that maybe this tteokbokki won’t be too bad.

You scoop up a rice cake and bite it. It’s chewy and soft, and you're beginning to think that it’s not too bad until you suddenly taste it: gochujang that is definitely way too strong for your weak palate. Minho is eyeing you suspiciously, a smile beginning to break his previously concerned face.

“How is it, lovey?” He asks innocently, but you know he sees through your act.

“Good,” you reply calmly, just to spite him. He nods and continues eating. You take up another rice cake and try to keep up, until you notice that the water jug on your table is closer to Minho and that your cup is almost empty. Your mouth is beginning to feel numb, and you can tell Minho is finding this all very amusing when you ask him to pour you more water.

“Why?” He asks as he grabs your cup to give you water. “Is it a little spicy for you?”

You shake your head, fanning your mouth. “No.”

He laughs and pushes the water jug closer. “Why didn’t you just tell me that you can’t eat spicy food?”

“Because that’s embarrassing.”

“I think it’s really cute.”

“Oh.”

“We can go get french fries after this. I know you don’t have a problem eating those.” You look down at Minho’s almost empty bowl and your full one.

“I hate you.”

“No you don’t.” Minho smiles cheekily and he motions for you to leave the booth. He pays for your food and grabs your hand.

And then you leave the tteokbokki shop together and he buys you french fries and you know you don’t. You don’t hate him; you never could.

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bbangpurin · 11 months

Text

the stars • han jisung

genre: stray kids han jisung angst + slight fluff. reflective breakup au.

synopsis: the stars have always reminded you of jisung.

warnings: none.

wc: 1.2k words.

notes: inspired by the "collision" lyrics in the comeback mashup!! i'm so excited for 5 star <3 thank you for reading; i hope you like it!

You had always thought that Jisung was different from other guys you dated. He correctly guessed your oddly specific order on your first meetup at a nearby coffee shop. He brought you your favorite flowers — based solely “on your vibe,” he said — before your second date at a trendy dinner spot. You were never a big proponent of things like fate or destiny, but Jisung felt like too much of a coincidence to believe that something bigger than yourself had brought him to your life.

Jisung, though, was a sucker for the concept of destiny. A few dates later, Jisung invited you to stargaze with him. You sat on a ratty picnic blanket Jisung had luckily found in the trunk of his car after you realized neither of you brought something to sit on that night as Jisung looked up at the sky, pointing out “stars” to you.

“There’s one!” He had said excitedly. “It’s almost as pretty as you.” You gazed up to where he was pointing and sighed, a tinge of fondness infused into your seemingly annoyed exhale.

“Stop,” you whined softly and pushed at his chest. “That’s an airplane, like the five others you pointed out before.” The “star” that Jisung had pointed to was moving slowly across the expanse of the blackness above, and Jisung giggled.

You took this opportunity to really look at this boy you could see, could feel, yourself falling in love with. He was still giggling, saying, “Oops, my bad!” and squinting up at the sky again to search for a real star he could liken to you.

He felt your gaze on his face and he turned to stare back. His eyes mirrored the outpouring of love in your heart and you knew then that you would never love someone the way that you loved Han Jisung.

He leaned forward slowly and you closed your eyes. You wanted to memorize the feeling of his lips on yours. You wanted to know everything about him at that moment — the feeling of your hands tangling in his hair, his hands reaching to grip your hips.

“I love you,” he whispered suddenly as he pulled apart from you, his hands still on your hips, his forehead pressed to yours.

“I love you too,” you responded without a second thought. “I love you so much.”

You pulled away further and placed your head on his shoulder, his arm automatically moving to wrap around your shoulder. The brisk winds of the night were cold, but you had never felt warmer.

“Look,” Jisung whispered softly into your ear, pointing up at the sky again. “A real one this time.”

And you looked up, eyes searching the expanse of the night sky and squinted to see that he was right — a real star, unmistakable and bright.

It felt like destiny.

Loving Jisung was easy — so easy that you still wonder how you could have messed it up so badly.

The apartment you live alone in — the one that you used to share with Jisung — traps you in its confines. You still see him everywhere — in the chip in one of your ceramic plates from when Jisung accidentally dropped it, in the way you started to close half-eaten snack bags the way Jisung taught you, in the bed sheets that feel so much colder now that he doesn’t share his warmth with you every night.

It’s at moments like these that you think you miss Jisung the most. He was — still is — all-consuming. When his everlasting absence becomes too overwhelming, you leave your apartment and wander the surrounding neighborhood to clear your head, similar to the late night strolls you used to take with him too.

Sometimes, you two would sit on the edge of a nearby street curb and stare at the sky together. It always reminded you of the beginning of it all. Just like the very first night, he’d point out “stars” to you, and you would laugh because the “stars” he would find were always airplanes or satellites that shone in the sky in almost, but not quite, the right way.

And on the rare occasion that you did see a real star on one of your street curb stargazing dates, you always thought that those nights were the best ones — when you and Jisung sat together and stared up at a real star, so far away, shining just for the two of you.

When you really think back to your relationship, you wish you could warn your past self of the signs that were impossibly difficult to miss. You should have known that Jisung was falling out of love with you faster than ever when he stopped sending you memes that just reminded him of you. You should have known when you fell asleep in your shared bed before he got home and woke up long after he had left.

You should have known when you stopped looking at the sky together — when every sky seemed endlessly dark, with no stars for him to compare you to, although he had stopped doing that long before the skies began turning pitch black.

When Jisung asked you to go for a walk on what would become your last night together, your heart fluttered. You would have had to be both extremely oblivious and completely naive not to notice that your relationship with Jisung had changed, so you thought that this late night walk would finally put a stop to the weird atmosphere that had been plaguing your relationship for the past few months. You two hadn’t gone on a walk together in a while, so him asking felt like your first sign that things were beginning to change.

The wind was cold like your first time stargazing, but instead of the warmth you expected would follow as you sat with Jisung on your familiar street curb, you only felt a weird chill. You glanced at him, and instead of looking up at the sky, Jisung’s gaze was focused on the ground in front of him.

“Baby,” you began.

“Let’s break up,” he said softly, his voice faltering slightly.

Your breath caught in your throat, which felt like it was constricting. Your stomach dropped. You felt sick. Tears welled in your eyes, blurring your vision as you watched Jisung raise his eyes to look at the sky above you. Your eyes followed, searching blindly for a star in what looked like a black hole, swallowing you whole.

Maybe, you thought, if you saw a star then, it’d feel like destiny again. Maybe the fragile love you shared with Jisung could be saved.

The night sky had never been emptier. In the endless bound of space that you once imagined was indicative of the insurmountable love you shared with Jisung, not even an airplane or a satellite “fake” star served to illuminate the darkness above.

It felt final. After all, you were never a big proponent of destiny.

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