#bnd ff

‘💬’ ─ why are my screenshots like that now. Apple. MemiMessage. Someone Speak Up.

°‧ 𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 ·｡°‧ 𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 ·｡°‧ 𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 ·｡

you often regretted the day that your roommate introduced you to her friend group. they were all great, and you fit in perfectly. there was only one issue. you had the biggest crush on one of them- leehan.

it was all your fault really. you had no one to blame but yourself, but you couldn't help it. his soft eyes were so enchanting. you could stare into them for hours, and you have as you listened to him rant about a subject that you could honestly care less about. you also found yourself staring at his lips, watching the shapes he makes when he's not paying attention to you, wishing to know what they felt like against yours.

and god, his voice. you were pretty sure he could read you the encyclopedia, and you would be entertained. it was just so soothing, always calming you down. one time when you drank too much, you told him that. he didn't tease you for it which shocked you. instead, he told you to call him whenever you wanted to hear him, so now when you can't sleep, you call him. he'll talk to you about anything until he hears the soft breaths signaling that you fell asleep.

you knew you were down bad for him when he brought you with him to get another fish, and he told you which one would be perfect for you. so of course you got it, and now you have a fish named yin to match his new fish that he named yang. he helps you take care of it, often coming over to make sure you're following his directions.

your roommate teases you endlessly for you very obvious crush. she even brought leehan's friend, jaehyun into your teasing. they tried endlessly to get you to confess to him because you would be waiting forever for leehan to confess (jaehyun's words), but you always refused. you valued his friendship way too much to confess when you're not even sure he felt the same way. they were certain he did, but you still wouldn't do it.

lately, he's been leaving you hot and bothered. it didn't help that it's summer, so he's been walking around in tank tops and showing off his arms. today wasn't any different. all of you were at jaehyun's house playing a game, and the loser had to jump into the pool. leehan lost and didn't even take any of his clothes off before he cannonballed into the pool.

you felt nauseous as got out of the pool. his hair slicked back and showing off his forehead. his clothes were sticking to his body, and you swore you could see ab lines from where his shirt was clinging to his stomach. you felt like you couldn't take it anymore. so when he went upstairs to change, you told everyone you weren't feeling good before leaving. you played it off pretty good because none of them teased you like they normally did. your roommate even offered to go with you, but you refused.

that leaves you where you were now, softly moaning leehan's name as your vibrator ran across your clit. you imagined it was him laying on top of you, mouth running across your body while he held the vibrator to you, whispering everything he was going to do to you. your eyes shut in pleasure, back arching when you press the vibrator harder. right as you felt yourself getting close, you heard someone knock on your door, nearly making you jump out of your skin.

"yn." you heard your name being called from the other side of the door, and you nearly scream when you recognize the voice as leehan's. "are you in there?"

"just a sec!" you quickly shut off the vibrator before throwing it in your drawer. you fix your shorts before getting up. you run your hands down your shirt as you open the door. leehan was standing there with a concerned look on his face. you move back and let him in before shutting the door. "what are you doing here?"

"jaehyun said you weren't feeling good, so i wanted to come and check on you."

thankfully leehan wasn't looking at you, so he couldn't see your face. he did his usual, going to check on your fish before laying down across the end of your bed. you join him, leaning on the head rest as you cross your legs.

"you didn't have to do that. i think i just got overheated."

leehan looked over to you, slowly examining you to make sure you weren't lying. "so you're feeling better now?"

you wanted to say no. if he would've came five minutes later after you had gotten yourself off, you would've been fine. but now here you were, sexually frustrated with the one who is causing it laying right in front of you.

"yep. feeling much better." leehan hummed at your answer.

"then why did it take you so long to open the door?" you had to stop your eyes from widening at his question. you motioned to the bathroom that was connected to your room.

"i was in the bathroom."

"you didn't sound like you were in the bathroom."

you force out a laugh at him as you try not to freak out. "what are you? an interrogator?"

"no." he answered. "i just want to know why it took you so long to open the door."

"i just told you. i was in the bathroom."

"no you weren't." leehan argued with you. you shift under his gaze but was determined not to break like you normally did.

"is the heat getting to you too?" you ask. "because i'm pretty sure i was in the bathroom. i would know."

leehan clicked his tongue like he was scolding you. "you're lying to me."

"no i'm not."

"yes you are."

"what makes you think i'm lying to you?" you ask, getting fed up with him. he rolled over on his side, smirking at you and catching you off guard.

"i was standing at your door long before i decided to knock."

you felt your mouth dry up as you blink at him. he heard you. your friend heard you moaning his name while you pleasured yourself. you felt like you wanted to cry, especially since you couldn't tell how he was feeling. your mind told you he was teasing you due to the smirk on his face that still hasn't left.

you quickly untangle your legs before making a break for the bathroom. he tried to grab you, but you were too fast, closing and locking the door before he could get to you. you felt tears hit your cheeks as your back slides down the wall.

leehan knocked on the door. "yn, open the door."

"no." you willed your voice to come out strong, but it shook at the end. you knew leehan could tell you were crying be he cursed when he heard you.

"please open the door."

"please leave." you beg.

"i'm not leaving, yn." you heard leehan sigh. you could hear him shift like he was sitting down in front of the door. "i'm not leaving until we talk about this."

you kept quiet, not wanting to respond. you knew he wouldn't leave. he was too stubborn. once he said he was doing something, no one could stop him from it. "how long were you standing there?"

"long enough." he answered.

"can you just reject me and leave?"

"why would i reject you?" you scoff at his question.

"oh please. you were on the verge of laughing."

"i wasn't going to laugh." he replied softly. you shook your head, not believing him.

"then why were you smiling like that?"

"because i was thinking about how good you sounded while moaning my name." you nearly choke at his answer. "i had imaging how you sounded for months, and somehow you sounded so much better than anything i could've imagined. and its driving me crazy that you're locked behind this door, and i can't touch you."

you were stunned by his answer. you could hear the desperation in his voice towards the end. you quietly stood up before moving towards the door. "you- you like me back?"

you hear him shuffle as he quickly stood up once he heard how close you were to the door. "how could i not? you're like the most perfect person i've ever met."

you wipe your face, getting rid of the dried tears before you unlock the door. you didn't even get a chance to open it before leehan barged into your bathroom. you barely had a chance to look at him when his hands gripped your cheeks, pulling your lips to his. you gasped at the actions before kissing him back.

he kissed you deeply, hands roaming your body like he was trying to memorize everything about you. your back hit the counter when he backed you up. he easily lifted you up, sitting you on the counter as his tongue slipped into your mouth, exploring every inch of you.

you felt your head spin, and you tried to pull away, but he wouldn't let you. he chased after your lips, molding them to yours as he pulled you closer to him. his grip was tight on your legs, tight enough to leave bruises as he wrapped them around his waist. his erection was poking through his shorts, brushing against your heat and causing you to moan into his mouth at the friction.

"you drive me insane." his voice deep with lust. he moved his head, sucking and biting at every inch of your exposed neck, making you squirm in his hold. "it took everything in me not to barge in and fuck you when you said my name. you would've like that though, wouldn't you baby?" you nod desperately, too far gone to speak sentences. "is that what you want? for me to fill this pussy up the way she deserves?"

"leehan." you whimper, voice cracking with need as you cling to him. he bites your neck harder when his name leaves your lips. you hands grip the counter as you roll your hips against his, moaning again when his hips desperately bucked into yours.

his hands cup your ass, squeezing tightly as he pulls you flush against him before picking you up. "you're already a mess, and i've barely touched you. i can practically feel how soaked you are through your clothes, my desperate girl."

your back hit the soft mattress before leehan kneeled over you. his hands gripped your knees before prying your legs apart, exposing your core to him. one of his hands left your knee before his fingers ran over your shorts. you choke out a moan, lifting your hips at the contact. you hear him darkly chuckle at your desperation. "how bad do you want it, baby?"

"so bad- please." his hand leaves your core, running across your hip, leaving you whining at the loss of contact. his hand roughly kneed the smooth flesh of your thigh before slapping it, causing you to jump while desperately moaning his name again.

"i don't think you want it that bad. why would you run away if you wanted this?"

you shake your head at his words. "i want it- want you. i'm sorry for running. i didn't mean to. please, leehan."

leehan stops your pleas with his mouth, tongue coaxing yours, causing your hips to rut against his. he bites your lip at the action, holding your hips down before sliding his hand into the front of your shorts. you stutter against his lips as his fingers teasingly slide down your dripping cunt. "you're fucking dripping. all for me baby, right?" you nod your head, eyes rolling in the back of your head when his thumb finds your throbbing clit. "and to think you thought a vibrator would be better than me." you almost scream when his hand pinches your clit. "tell me. can your vibrator do this?"

you thrust into his hand, broken moans leaving your lips when he thrust two fingers into you. he doesn't give you any time to adjust, leaving you squeezing around his fingers as continued to shove his fingers deep inside of you. the wet sounds of your cunt along with your moans and whimpers brought a smile to leehan's face. "answer me, or i'm going to stop."

"p-please don't stop." you cry out. "it doesn't. n-nothing has felt even a fraction as good as you."

he rewards you, curling his fingers, hitting that spot that has you squeezing so tightly around him, he could barely move. tears prick your eyes, hips moving against his hand as he leans down. his lips brush yours, drowning your sounds with his lips. "why don't you be my good girl and take your shirt off, so i can see these pretty tits?"

his fingers don't stop moving at all, leaving you to try to sit up with shaky arms. your hands barely work which leaves leehan chuckling, before you pull the shirt over your head. you throw it before unhooking your bra, letting it slide down your arms before throwing it as well. leehan pushes you down, lips instantly finding your hardened nipple. your back arches into his mouth, whimpering when he bites the sensitive bud.

he marks every inch of your chest, leaving it glistening with his spit and bruises, making him groan against your lips at the sight of your trembling body. his name barely leaves your lips, legs tightening around his waist when your stomach clenches so hard it hurts.

"cum for me." he demands, hand finding your sore nipple before pinching it, causing you to cry out. "cum all over my fingers. make a mess."

you scream out his name as your orgasm ripped through your body. it left you shaking, clenching around his fingers that have yet to cease moving. he took his other hand, pulling your shorts down your legs, leaving him completely exposed to him. he stands by the edge of the bed, lustful eyes scanning over every inch of you. you tried to pull away from his hand that was still buried inside of you, causing him to slap your ass in warning.

"stop running from me." he growled, ripping his hand out of your cunt, leaving you moaning for more. he gripped your thighs, pulling you towards him. "roll over."

you did as he said, rolling over to your stomach and letting leehan position you the way he wanted you. your ass was in the air, leaving your face pressed into the mattress, back arched for him that nearly had him moaning your name. he rips off his shirt in one clean motion before kneeling down, lining his face up with your cunt. his hand held your folds open while he darted his tongue out, brushing over your puffy clit with a groan of how you sweet tasted.

he started out slow, tongue moving slowly as he circled your clit teasingly, smiling when he hears you moaning for more. "patience, baby. i'm just getting started." he presses a little harder, flicking his tongue over your clit before sucking the swollen bud, leaving you moaning his name clenching around nothing. "do you feel that? how much this pussy is begging for me? should i give her what she wants, baby?"

"yes. please, leehan." you voice full of need that leaves leehan straining in his pants. "i need you, so bad. please fuck me."

leehan groans at your words, shedding his shorts as he stands up. his dick hits your clit, making you moan at the feeling. you could feel him pulsing as he slowly ran his dick through your dripping folds, coating him in your slick. he soon got sick of the teasing, the two of you moaning out in unison as he slides into you in one slick thrust. he groans when he feels you clench around him at the stretch.

his warm breath was hot against your neck as he leaned over you, pressing his lips to your spine. "do you feel how well your pussy takes me? like you were fucking made for me?"

you can't do anything but moan at his words, lost as he completely fills you with his cock. he start out slow, tortuously slow, letting you feel every inch of him against your walls as he almost completely pulls back before thrusting back inside of you. his hands dig into your hips, nails leaving crescent shaped marks as he held you in place.

your eyes clench shut, tears pooling in the corners as he speeds up, slamming into you. your knuckles turn white from how hard your gripping the sheets. the only thing leaving your mouth was his name. "that's right, baby. let me hear you scream out my name. let every know who's fucking you stupid."

you cry out his name, eyes rolling back when his hands push on your stomach bulge. your back arches more with his touch, leaving your back the perfect canvas for leehan's lips. he leaves your entire back covered in bruises as he continues to slam into you, loving that you turned into a sobbing mess beneath him.

"my good girl." you cry when his hand threaded itself into your hair, yanking you up with a sharp tug, groaning when he feels you squeeze his dick. "you're just mine to ruin, aren't you?"

he could tell you were already there, tears running down your cheeks as you begged him. "leehan, please. i- i need you."

"you have me baby." he coos, tongue trailing along your cheek, catching the salty tears with a groan. "do you want more? are you going to let me fill this pussy, so she knows who she belongs to?"

"please."

he lets your hair go, your face pressing into the mattress as he picks up his speed. he groans when you squeeze around him, stomach coiling tightly, signaling your climax. his hand moved around you, mercilessly rubbing your clit. you see stars, clenching your eyes so tightly as you cum. leehan groans at the feeling of you, thrusting into you a few more times before he fills you with his release.

the two of you stay in that position as you come down from your highs. leehan leans over you, pressing sweet kisses to your spine which was a complete contrast to how he just was. his hands run soothing circles on your hips as he pulls out of you. you hiss at the loss of contact, letting leehan roll you over on your back before covering you with his body.

"you did so good, my sweet girl." you smile at the compliment, grabbing his face before kissing him which he responds to instantly. he runs his hands all over your body, massaging the tender areas, leaving you moaning into his mouth.

"we picked the worst time of the year to get together. we're all sweaty." you complain as you pull away. you were right- the both of you were covered in sweat. leehan's hair was damp and sticking to his forehead, and you could feel yours clinging to your neck.

leehan laughs against your lips before kissing you again. "it's not all bad."

"why's that?"

leehan wraps you around his body once again, making you gasp as he stands up. he laughs, kissing your cheek as he carries you back to where everything started.

(성호) 𝖯𝖠𝖱𝖪 𝖲𝖴𝖭𝖦𝖧𝖮

you’re mid-conversation with a friend when you suddenly feel it—an arm sliding around your waist, the weight of a chin resting on your shoulder.

you turn your head, blinking—sungho? he’s not usually like this, especially not around other people. but here he is now, pressed up against you like it’s the most natural thing in the world.

“you okay?” you ask softly.

he doesn’t answer. just hums and tightens his hold on you, shooting your friend a perfectly polite smile. but there’s something smug in his eyes too—like he’s making a point.

you’re starting to piece it together when your friend finally leaves after muttering an awkward excuse. sungho lets out a quiet sigh against your neck.

“you jealous?” you tease, turning in his arms.

“maybe a little,” he says, not even trying to deny it. “i don’t know… i just saw him looking at you like he wanted your number.”

you don’t tease him for it. instead, you smile, warmth blooming in your chest as you lean into him a little more, fingers brushing where his rest on your waist.

“you could’ve just said you missed me.”

“would’ve been less effective,” he murmurs, his nose brushing your cheek as he presses a few lingering kisses along your jaw.

you don’t push him away, and he shows no intention of letting go anytime soon, paying no mind to the people around you. and for the rest of the day, he stays close—his arm brushing against yours, fingers laced through yours—like he’s not quite done being mad cute.

(리우) 𝖫𝖤𝖤 𝖱𝖨𝖶𝖮𝖮

you wake up to the scent of early morning—cool air, faint sunlight peeking through the curtains—and the feeling of something warm and heavy draped around your waist.

your first instinct is to stretch, but you can’t. you’re being held in place.

when you blink your eyes open, the sight that greets you is enough to make your heart ache in the gentlest way: riwoo, still deep asleep, face tucked into your shoulder, nose brushing your collarbone, arms locked securely around your body like you’re the only thing anchoring him to this world.

his hair’s a little messy, hoodie slightly rumpled, lips parted just barely as he breathes softly against your skin. he looks peaceful. too peaceful.

you shift ever so slightly, trying not to wake him—but even that tiny movement makes his brow twitch in protest. you pause. then try again, gently peeling the blanket back.

bad idea.

he lets out the tiniest, grumpiest noise—something between a sigh and a whine—and immediately tightens his arms around you, pulling you flush against his chest.

“riwoo,” you whisper, voice barely above a breath. “i need to get up.”

“five more minutes,” he mumbles, voice rough and muffled against your shoulder. “s’cold out there. stay warm with me.”

you huff a quiet laugh. “you’re such a baby.”

“am not,” he grumbles, still clearly half-asleep. “i just… like this.”

he says it so simply, like he’s explaining why the sky is blue. like being wrapped around you like a human blanket is the most natural thing in the world.

you glance down at him, only to find his eyes cracking open—just barely. sleep still clouds them, but the way he looks at you makes your chest tighten.

“ten minutes,” he murmurs, already nuzzling into you again. “maybe forever. just… don’t leave yet.”

you don’t answer. you just slip your arm around him in return, pressing your face into his hair and closing your eyes again.

(태산) 𝖧𝖠𝖭 𝖳𝖠𝖤𝖲𝖠𝖭

it starts when you cancel plans with taesan. just a quick text: “sorry, can’t make it today. something came up.”

you meant to follow it up, but time slips by, and you forget. you don’t notice his silence until hours later, when you’re walking up to your house and see taesan sitting on your porch—head hung low, hoodie sleeves pulled over his hands. his head lifts the moment he hears you call out his name.

“hey,” he says, but his voice is quieter than usual, a little hesitant.

“taesan? what are you doing here?”

he shrugs. “wanted to see you. you didn’t answer.”

you blink. “oh—i… i forgot. i’m sorry, i didn’t mean to worry you—”

he doesn’t say anything. just takes a step forward and wraps his arms around your waist, like it’s the only way to make sure you’re not mad at him. you try to laugh it off, not used to his clinginess, but he doesn’t budge. instead, he tucks his cold nose against your neck, like he’s trying to soak in all your warmth.

“i missed you today,” he mumbles, his breath tickling your collarbone.

you pull him inside, and he doesn’t let go—not even for a second. not when you’re unlocking the door, not while you’re kicking off your shoes. you end up half-walking to the couch with him still glued to your side, arms looped tight around your waist, chin resting on your shoulder.

he melts into you entirely when you sit down, arms still locked around your middle, pulling you closer like he’s trying to make up for all the time he didn’t get to hold you today.

eventually, he murmurs, “don’t cancel on me again without telling me why.”

you press a kiss to his cheek. “i won’t.”

but you probably will, if it means you get him all cuddly like this.

(이한) 𝖪𝖨𝖬 𝖫𝖤𝖤𝖧𝖠𝖭

you’ve seen leehan tired before—after all-nighters, post-practice, sometimes when he forgets to sleep properly before a trip.

but today’s different.

he shows up at your house in the evening, hoodie zipped up, dark circles under his eyes, and a shy smile that doesn’t quite reach yet.

“hey,” he says, voice scratchy. “can i stay for a bit?”

you nod immediately, pulling him inside before he can explain or make excuses. he’s running a low fever—you realize it the second he leans into you, eyes closed, skin too warm.

you start fussing—getting him water, meds, a warm blanket, dimming the lights—and he just watches you from the bed, lips parted slightly, like he doesn’t know what to say.

“you should’ve told me,” you scold softly, kneeling beside the bed and running your fingers gently through his hair. “you didn’t have to come all the way here.”

his fingers brush against yours. “i know… i just didn’t want to bother you.”

later, when he’s tucked under your blanket, warm and drowsy, you think he’s fallen asleep.

but then you feel him shift, reaching for your arm. he tugs gently, eyes barely open.

you hesitate—only for a second. but when you slip under the blanket beside him, leehan immediately curls into you, arms winding around your waist, nose tucked into your shoulder.

“you didn’t have to take care of me,” he murmurs, “but you did.”

“you’d do the same for me,” you whisper, brushing your fingers through his hair.

“i would,” he agrees, already half-asleep, voice fading. “but i still think i’m the lucky one.”

(운학) 𝖪𝖨𝖬 𝖶𝖮𝖮𝖭𝖧𝖠𝖪

it’s late, way too late. you’re standing at the door of woonhak’s room, backpack slung over your shoulder, jacket already zipped. the room is dim, lit only by the warm glow of his desk lamp. and he’s standing there, pouting.

“you’re really leaving?”

you laugh. “yes, woonhak. it’s late.”

“but i just got you to myself,” he says, walking toward you slowly. he stops right in front of you and lets his head fall onto your shoulder, arms sliding around your waist. “we barely got to do anything.”

“you dragged me into three different board games.”

“yeah, but i wanted to cuddle.”

you roll your eyes affectionately. “you can’t make me lose five rounds of uno and then ask for cuddles.”

“yes i can,” he whispers, arms tightening around your waist like a little kid. “just stay five more minutes. please?”

“woonhak…”

he looks up at you, lip jutting out slightly. “if you leave now, i’ll miss you the whole night.”

that’s the thing about woonhak—when he wants you close, he really wants you close. he’s a flirty, playful loudmouth with everyone else, but with you? he softens. and you give into his wants every single time.

he presses his forehead against yours, like it’s the only way to make time slow down.

“please…?” he pleads, one more time.

you sigh, defeated, and drop your bag to the floor.

his whole face lights up.

“i love you,” he beams, pulling you straight into his arms and wrapping himself around you like a koala, dragging you to his bed. “just until you really have to go,” he murmurs, face buried in your shoulder—and you can feel him smiling against your skin.

you won’t leave for another hour.

At least, that's what you tell yourself.

The second day is quieter than usual. Not because anything is wrong—the neighbors are still noisy, the buses still rattle down the street, the world keeps moving at exactly the same pace—but because you keep noticing all the spaces Taesan usually fills. You catch yourself reaching for your phone when you see a dog stubbornly refusing to walk in the rain. You make coffee and instinctively brew enough for two. Halfway through a movie, you pause it because you know Taesan would have something to say about the main character's awful decisions.

You sit there staring at the frozen screen. Then you groan and toss the remote aside.

"This is ridiculous."

You aren't one of those people who can't function without their boyfriend. You're independent. You have hobbies. Friends. A life outside of him.

So why does everything feel so unbearably ordinary?

The days blur together after that. You try writing, but every sentence comes out awkward. You scroll aimlessly through social media until your eyes hurt. You wander around your apartment looking for something to do, only to end up staring into your fridge like it holds the secrets of the universe.

It doesn't.

It just holds a bruised peach that's somehow become the physical manifestation of your mood.

You stare at it.

The peach stares back.

"You look terrible," you tell it.

The peach, rude as ever, offers no opinion on the fact that you haven't folded your laundry in three days.

You close the fridge.

A few seconds later, you open it again.

The peach is still ugly.

Nothing changes.

You lean against the counter and sigh.

It's embarrassing, really. Not the peach. The fact that you've spent almost a week feeling like someone quietly removed all the background music from your life.

You miss Taesan.

Not in the dramatic, tragic way movies like to portray. You're not crying into his sweaters or counting the days until he comes back.

You just—

Miss telling him things.

You miss hearing him laugh when you say something ridiculous. You miss how observant he is, how he notices things about you before you do. The other day you caught yourself tapping your fingers anxiously on the table and immediately thought of how Taesan would raise an eyebrow and ask what was wrong.

He always notices.

You once changed your shampoo and he figured it out before your own friends did. Another time, you insisted you weren't upset, and he spent five minutes listing every tiny difference in your behavior until you cracked.

You're still offended by that. Mostly because he was right.

Your phone buzzes.

TAESAN🖤: Just saw a dog that looked exactly like you.

You snort.

YOU: Insulting.

TAESAN🖤: Tiny. Judgemental. Refused to move.

YOU: I don't do that.

TAESAN🖤: Last month you stood outside a restaurant for ten minutes because you didn't like the font on the menu.

You stare at the screen.

He sends another message before you can reply.

TAESAN🖤: You miss me?

You almost drop your phone.

YOU: No.

Three dots appear instantly.

TAESAN:🖤 Liar.

You roll your eyes so hard it hurts. The audacity. The accuracy.

You spend a full minute trying to think of a comeback, only to realize you're smiling. Which is annoying.

Because that's the problem, isn't it?

The apartment hasn't changed. Your routine hasn't changed. Nothing is actually different.

Taesan didn't become the center of your world while you weren't looking. He didn't sweep in and transform your life into something unrecognizable.

He just slipped into the little things.

Into the habit of sending each other pictures of weird clouds.

Into grocery trips where you automatically grab his favorite drink.

Into late-night conversations that start with something stupid and somehow end with the two of you talking about your biggest fears.

He fit himself into your life so naturally that you never noticed how often you reached for him until he wasn't there.

And now every ordinary moment arrives with a tiny hitch.

A pause.

A thought.

Taesan would've laughed at this.

Taesan would've hated this song.

I should tell Taesan about—

The realization hits you while you're standing in your kitchen, staring at the offensive peach for the third time that day.

You don't miss him because you forgot how to be alone.

You miss him because being loved by him has quietly changed the shape of your solitude.

Before Taesan, an empty apartment was just an empty apartment.

Now it's a place full of echoes. Of conversations paused instead of finished. Of jokes waiting to be told. Of affection with nowhere to go.

Your phone rings.

Taesan.

You answer immediately and hate yourself for it.

"You picked up fast," he says, amusement obvious in his voice.

"I was near my phone."

"You sound defensive."

"I'm not."

"You sighed."

You glance at the ceiling. Somehow, impossibly, he can still read you from hundreds of kilometers away.

"You know," he says, gentler now, "you're allowed to miss me."

"I don't."

"You bought my favorite snacks yesterday."

You freeze. "How do you know that?"

"You sent me a picture of your groceries."

You did.

Damn him.

"I think," Taesan says, laughter tucked into his voice, "you've spent the last week trying really hard not to admit something completely normal."

You slide down the kitchen cabinets until you're sitting on the floor.

The peach remains ugly.

Your apartment remains quiet.

Your boyfriend remains unbearably perceptive.

And maybe he's right.

Maybe the ache in your chest isn't weakness.

Maybe it's just love. Not grand enough for poetry. Not tragic enough for songs.

Just ordinary love.

The kind that sneaks into your routines, settles into your days, and leaves behind a Taesan-shaped space whenever he's away.

You still think that's a little horrifying.

But when he says, softly, "I'll be home soon," you realize it's also the most wonderful thing that's ever happened to you.

© All rights reserved @gigisnextdoor 2026.

He lifted his head, and a slow cloud of breath escaped his lungs in a soft hitch. 

You didn’t look like the young princess he spent every single day guarding, following like a shadow, carrying the sword that was meant for you and you only. At least, not at first glance. 

Instead of the usual silks and hair ornaments, you wore a simple hanbok in muted winter colours: soft cream jeogori, pale rose chima (skirt), and a dark wool shawl wrapped around your shoulders—obviously borrowed from a palace maid on your way out. Nothing flashy. Nothing that screamed your status and bloodline. Nothing expensive enough to buy Taesan and his entire future bloodline’s souls. 

Tonight, your hair wasn’t pinned up the way etiquette deemed appropriate for a princess—no neat braid, no ceremonial ribbon. Instead, your hair fell loose around her shoulders, dark and soft, a waterfall flowing over the simple collar of your borrowed hanbok. 

It made you look younger than you already were, freer… almost like the version of you that Taesan barely got to see behind palace walls. 

Your voice wasn’t the one you used at court and in the palace, that cut through the stinging winter cold like the universe was personally at your command. It was gentle this time, maybe a bit shy, expectant. 

Like an ordinary girl.

If that word was even worthy of you.

Taesan bowed his head automatically. A habit. That quiet, instinctive movement that he never quite unlearned despite the absurd amount of times you told him he didn’t have to. 

Old routine from his old post. Or… not that old, honestly. 

He used to stand at the palace gates, stoic with the rest of the faceless line of elite guards who were supposed to be part of the background. Nobody important. That was before the crown prince, your older brother, had pulled him aside. Before the hushed orders that he seamlessly fell into. Before he started showing up everywhere you were. 

Pure coincidence, of course. 

At least according to every palace record ever. 

“Your Highness.”

You smiled. That alone was enough to knock the loyal guard off his feet. 

“You should call me by my name, Taesan,” you said.

That soft winter glow that bestowed upon your face—lightly flushed cheeks from the cold, black eyes bright with a mix of nerves and determination that he couldn't help but find deathly adorable—made Taesan’s heart ache. There were no words suited to describe it, except that he could only soothe it if he took his heart out and physically ripped it apart. 

The guard shook his head. “I could never, Your Highness, it’s…” he couldn’t finish. The word was stuck in his throat. Dangerous and too honest. Too close to the truth he wasn’t allowed to even imagine. 

Inappropriate, perhaps. 

No, he didn’t deserve to say your name. It hovered between his lips, tempting and impossible. A forbidden fruit. His tongue didn’t have the capability to savour the sweetness of your beautiful name—it was too lowly, too humble for someone like you. 

Even without the usual jewelled binyeo, there was something unmistakably regal about you. Chin up just at the right angle, posture a little too perfect, movements careful like you could never really switch off years of court etiquette. 

Taesan would never let himself utter your name. It was a kind of heaven no commoner like him could even dream of having. 

But he let himself slip out a compliment for you. 

“You look wonderful, Your Highness.”

The words came from his heart. It showed in his usually empty eyes—too warm, too soft—fonder than any guard should sound toward his princess. 

“Really?” you asked, that small smile forming on your lips. 

Taesan nodded earnestly. Maybe too keen. But he meant it. 

“Always,” he replied. 

Here, in the shadowy back corner of a warehouse, wrapped in a hanbok meant to make you invisible in the crowd, Taesan would’ve recognised you anywhere. Not because you looked royal, or because you were the most angelic young woman he’d laid his eyes on, but because you looked like you.

“Do you smell it?” you asked, the wind blowing softly at the strands of hair hanging free from the sides of your face. 

Your question pulled Taesan out of his trance. He blinked himself back into reality, though the sight of you in simple hanbok felt like a hazy dream anyway. 

“Um, smell what exactly, Your Highness?” 

The nearby festival had given them the wonderful mix of sweetened red beans, pumpkin juk, roasted chestnuts, cinnamon, honey, meat on smoky grills—the smell drifting steadily through the dense winter air. 

You shrugged. Not sure what the combination was made out of. 

“You reckon they sell yakgwa?” you asked. 

Taesan snorted. He didn’t mean to, but it was a dulcet sound that you had never heard come from him. His head dipped forward momentarily, the front of his black hair brushing his eyes. 

“Your Highness,” he said, the remnants of his amusement evident in the faint smile pulling at his lips, “you told me to bring you out to the festival so you could see for yourself how us commoners eat.” 

He was right. You had asked him to bring you around the winter festival, so you could experience it for yourself. Your father, the King, would never grant you the permission to stroll the streets as ordinarily as other people could. So, you resorted to this.

You scoffed lightly, rolling your eyes. “Right, right, you don’t have to remind me.”

A beat passed. 

But it felt like a really long one. 

The wind blew softly at your hair, the unrestrained locks loose against your face. There was a soft tint of pink across your cheeks, your breath forming puffs of cloud against your lips. 

Taesan wanted to chuckle along with your jest, to make things less stiff and awkward between him and you. 

Instead, he found himself extending his arm towards you, his smile fading.

“Should… we?”

The gesture itself was a leap that made his heart beat so fast, and his heart betrayed him because when you slipped your hand into the fold of his arm, he swore he almost died. 

Your fingers were light against his sleeve, a little unsure just like him. You didn’t look at him right away, but when you did, the ground seemed to shift under his feet. 

You smiled. Again. 

“Lead the way.”

Taesan swallowed so quickly, nervous, hoping that you wouldn’t notice. He nodded before his feet began stepping forward, careful. He guided you around the corner of the warehouse and into the streets. The festival glow spilled over the both of you as you walked closer—the orange glow of the lanterns bobbing against the dark blue sky, music and laughter weaved in a warm ribbon between stalls of hearty tidbits. 

The festival was comforting and warm against the cold winter night. 

Yet Taesan felt colder with every step. 

Not because of the breeze.

Not because the tip of his nose was about to freeze to death. 

Because your hand was still resting on his arm, fingers dainty but heavy against his sleeve. 

Too light yet too warm. 

Dangerous. 

His mind pulled an image together—how the palace would react when he was seen like this with you. A princess, carefree and all smiles, with a mere guard. A lad who was pretending for one implausible moment that he was allowed to walk beside his lady like an equal. 

He tried not to think about it. 

A moment later, he cleared his throat. 

“Your Highn–”

He stopped when, from the corner of his eyes, you shot him a warning look. 

Oh. 

Your fingers tightened slightly against the fabric of his sleeve. 

“What was that?” you said, eyes narrowing a bit. “Try again.”

A breath escaped Taesan, slowly curling into the night air. A secret of some sort. 

“Yes,” he said, a tad stiff. “I’ll… try. Next time.”

You raised a brow at him, a little wary, but you shrugged it off. 

The two of you then stepped into the warmth of the festival, the drifting glow of the lanterns bringing together the atmosphere you had always dreamed about. 

The change was immediate. Laughter, occasional banters, clinking bowls, sizzling batter on iron pans, running children weaving past adults with sticky candy in their hands—every sound wrapped around you with a strange kind of nostalgia. You’d never experienced this sort of ambience before, but somehow, it felt like this was home instead of the cold stone walls of the palace. 

A stringed haegeum played a melody from somewhere in the street, the notes gentle. 

You stopped walking. 

Naturally, Taesan did too. He turned towards you, unsure. 

But you weren’t looking at him anymore. 

The lanterns sparkled like bright stars in your eyes. Wider, gleaming more than any gemstone you wore in court. You were taking in everything with a kind of awe that painted itself across your face—unguarded and genuine. Nothing like Taesan had seen before. 

It made something deep inside his ribs twist.

“I have no words,” you breathed, finally, “it’s… beautiful.”

Taesan took a moment to gather himself and his words together, his eyes unable to pry themselves away from you. 

“Yeah.”

He didn’t know if you meant the lanterns, the streets, the people, the food… 

…or the freedom that you’d been trying to find. 

But he kept his question to himself. 

The way your hand still gripped his sleeve was enough of an answer. 

A stall keeper nearby called out, pulling your attention. He was loading a fresh batch of hotteok onto a metal tray, the steam white curls against the night. 

The wonderstruck look on your face made Taesan almost laugh. Almost. 

Instead, he asked quietly, “Do you want one?” He didn’t have to wait for your nod to know the answer. 

He carefully slipped away from you, his hand lingering on yours before he stepped towards the stall. He bought a few of the warm pancakes, steam still curling out of them. When he returned, he handed one to you, half-expecting you to take a small bite out of it. Proper, like how you took every ceremonial dish served back in the palace. 

But you didn’t. 

With the biggest, most excited grin he’s seen yet, you took a huge bite. 

Taesan choked on nothing. 

“Mmh—” You chewed slowly, the gooey syrup of cinnamon and nuts filling your senses. “My goodness…”

At the sight—you being the most adorable thing he’s ever seen—Taesan couldn’t stop laughing. It burst out of his chest, startled, soft and full of joy. He didn’t even know he was capable of sounding like that. 

He wasn’t sure he was even able to feel this way. 

You looked up at him, lips slightly glazed with the sweet syrup of the hotteok you were eating. The expression on your face—albeit endearing—was the most unprincess-like look he’d ever seen. 

It was perfect. 

“It’s good?” he guessed, voice as soft as his laugh earlier. 

You nodded rather vigorously. “Taesan, why don’t the kitchens serve something like this?”

Taesan chuckled again. “I’m sure they’d make some if you asked, Your Highn–”

He stopped, smile fading, when you looked at him pointedly. 

“Right. My… my point still stands.”

You snorted, grinning into your hotteok. 

In that moment—amidst the golden lanterns, the chatter, and the illusion that you could be an ordinary girl with your very much ordinary lover, enjoying the market—Taesan let himself believe, just for a lingering breath, that it would last. 

But then…

A metallic clang rang in the distance, sharp and delicate. 

Precise. 

Taesan froze. 

The festivity around you was now too loud. Too bright. Too crowded, easy to lose you in. 

His hand instinctively drifted to where his sword should’ve been. 

Shit. 

You noticed. Of course you did. 

“Taesan– hey, what’s–?”

He didn’t look away from the direction of the sound. “Stay behind me.”

“Taesan!”

“Please.”

You stopped. 

His voice wasn’t what you’d expected it to be. Not that of a guard. Not quite. 

It was urgent, too human. 

You stepped closer to him, your finger clutching the half-eaten hotteok tighter. 

And there it was again. The same clang, echoing a little too loudly in both your ears. 

A warning, perhaps. 

Taesan’s breath steadied. The look in his eyes betrayed his rather calm expression. 

“Taesan,” you called, voice barely above a whisper, “what’s happening?”

He didn’t answer, and just simply returned your gaze. 

But you could see it. His body tensed akin to a bowstring pulled too tight. He’d shifted just enough to block you fully from whatever that produced that sound earlier. His shoulder squared, his breath held. 

“Taesan,” you whispered once again.

“Don’t call my name like that.”

Your breath hitched halfway out of your throat. 

Before any of you could react further, a burst of laughter erupted from a group of children hurrying down the street, pushing past people as they waved long wooden sticks tied with bells. One had whacked his stick a little too enthusiastically against a pole, sending another sharp metallic ring through the crisp air. 

You winced slightly at the shrill sound, but your eyes were trained on Taesan’s expression.

He blinked. 

Once. Twice. 

His shoulders dropped a fraction, and you couldn’t hold back the grin that pulled on your face. 

The children scuttled past, chasing one another with their improvised toys, oblivious to the near heart attack they gave him. 

One of them—a girl with a missing tooth—grinned at Taesan before she ran off to join her friends. 

“Well,” you turned to him, the corner of your lips evidently twitching. “What was that again?”

Taesan exhaled the breath he’d been holding in. His frown softened, expression turning begrudgingly sheepish. 

“I was just being cautious,” he muttered, a hand rubbing the back of his neck. 

But you giggled regardless. The sound was soft but bright, and Taesan felt his ears warming under the winter cold.

“Come on then,” you said, fingers reaching out to tug lightly on his sleeve. “Let’s explore before someone else terrorizes you with… sticks.”

Taesan sighed, internally rolling his eyes. 

But he let you pull him along, silently praying the ground underneath his feet would swallow him whole. But your amusement wasn’t cruel. Not at all. If anything, it held a fondness he wasn’t sure he deserved.

The two of you wandered deeper into the festival. 

Deeper into the laughter and the warmth he wished he could share with you more often. 

YOU tried everything.

Everything. 

Spicy rice cakes that made you choke in a way that made Taesan’s eyes widen with worry. Roasted sweet potatoes that you took a bite of regardless of his warning that it’d burn your tongue because it was fresh off the grill. He watched with a soft smile, helping you fan your mouth with his hand. 

And the games—ugh, so annoying. 

Taesan tried to convince you the ring toss game was rigged. You didn’t believe him, of course. 

Now, after failing your first throw, you were starting to doubt your own insistence. 

He stood behind you, as loyal as ever, hands clasped behind his back. He was polite, but he stood close enough that you could feel the warmth from his chest radiating against your shoulder blades every time you moved. 

“You’re throwing it a bit too softly,” he murmured, leaning down just slightly. 

“I don’t want to hit someone with it,” you gritted back, eyes narrowed. 

Taesan simply laughed, his shoulders shaking. “Fine, fine. Throw it however you like.”

Hours passed without either of you realising. 

The festival shifted seamlessly from bright and bustling to something gentler. Quieter, like the night was finally wrapping around the remaining visitors like a fluffy blanket of dark blue and the soft golden glow of dying embers. Musicians switched to slower melodies as the crowd began to thin, and your breaths puffed in the air like white, velvety clouds. 

Taesan walked you to the top of the hill overlooking the town. 

From up here, the festival looked like tiny fireflies, scattered across earth. 

Your arms hugged the rabbit plush made out of leftover scraps of colourful hanbok material—the one that he won for you earlier—as the wind combed through your loose hair. The moonlight bathed your features in silver, highlighting the royal beauty that the night had hidden from the world. 

Taesan stood beside you, his hands clasped behind his back like always. His gaze was fixed forward, but even a child could tell that his attention was fixed on you. 

Not the view. 

You. 

“It’s beautiful,” you breathed. 

“Of course. Of course it is.”

You glanced sideways. He was staring at you instead of the horizon. 

A soft, rather knowing smile tugged at your lips. 

“Taesan,” you said softly. 

His breath hitched, because the sound of his name on your tongue—no formality, no title—felt forbidden. Yet it was the closest to heaven he’d get in this mortal world. 

THE walk back was quieter.

Not awkward, of course, but it was full. Heavy in the way snow-laden branches bend, not from burden, but from abundance. 

You walked close enough that your fingers brushed the fabric of Taesan’s sleeve every now and then. Each time it happened, his breath hitched the tiniest bit—so faint you might’ve mistaken it as the breeze. 

The palace walls loomed ahead, tall and dark against the moonlit sky. A sight you dreaded, banging heavy in your heart. 

The guards stationed at the outer courtyard had already begun their shift change. Lanterns glowed dimly, throwing elongated shadows across the tiles.

Taesan stopped first.

He always did.

A quiet signal that this was as far as he could follow you.

As far as he should follow you. 

You turned to him, the silver moonlight making that soft smile on your lips look more majestic than ever. 

“Thank you for tonight,” you told him. 

He didn’t reply instantly. 

Instead, he let the wind curl between the two of you, cold enough to sting, but Taesan was by far the warmest he’d ever been.

His mouth opened to speak, but closed before he uttered anything. 

Your eyes softened, and he knew it meant you were expecting him to step back into the shadows.

Well, that was what broke him.

Not desire.

Not the longing. 

Not even the lingering memory of your lips against his in hidden corners of the palace. 

It was the way you looked at him like you knew he wouldn’t choose himself. Like always.

But tonight… 

He did. 

Taesan stepped forward, ignoring the violent hitch in your breath. 

He held his hand out. Slow. Reverent. His finger brushed a stray snowflake from your cheek, lingering a beat too long. His eyes searched yours for permission. 

You didn’t speak. 

You only gave a tiny nod. 

That was all it took.

Taesan leaned in.

Not forceful, frantic. But with such gentleness it almost made your heart jump out of your ribs. 

His forehead touched yours first, as if giving you one last chance to stop him.

You didn’t.

Why would you?

So he closed the distance.

The kiss was soft.

Warm, but trembling with everything he never let himself say.

His other hand rose to cradle the back of your neck, thumb brushing the edge of your hairline. He held you like you were fragile porcelain—laughable, given who you were—but to him, you were something far more breakable.

Like if he was being too greedy, too human, it’d break you.

But you kissed him back, breath warm against his lips. But for once, you weren’t the first to move.

Taesan deepened the kiss—just barely—enough for you to feel the subtle shiver running through him. Enough for the world to disappear except for the warm and desperate press of his mouth against yours.

When he finally pulled away, his breath came out in a trembling puff that tickled your swollen lips.

He rested his forehead against yours again, eyes closed, clearly struggling to piece himself back together.

“That…” His voice cracked. He swallowed. “I should not have done that.”

“But you did,” you murmured softly. 

“Yeah,” he opened his eyes, swallowing again. His gaze dropped to your mouth before riding back up to your eyes, forehead still resting against yours. “I did.”

You brushed your nose lightly against his. Playful, tender, teasing. “You know, I could get used to this.”

Taesan inhaled sharply, dread pulling at his eyebrows. Only you could turn a moment of painful desire and longing into a lighthearted jest. “Your Highness, please.”

You rolled your eyes as you stepped back. “Fine, fine.”

A beat. 

“You should get going,” Taesan said softly. 

Before I can’t stop having you.

You swallowed, nodding. The palace walls behind you felt too tall. Too restricting. 

“Yeah.”

As you slipped toward the palace doors, you glanced over your shoulder.

Taesan was still watching you.

But not like a guard.

Like a man who had finally let himself want something forbidden.

You whispered his name—just once, just for him—and he straightened as if called to battle.

Then you vanished behind the sliding wooden door.

Taesan stayed there long after it closed, the hand that had held your face stiff in place, trying to make your warmth linger longer between his fingers.

He didn’t care if he died from the cold, standing there. He breathed in the ghost of your kiss, indulging in the memory of your lips against his, as if it were the last warmth in winter. 

And maybe, just maybe… 

He’d force himself to want. To come back for more.

― © htaesan, 2025.

you know you’re in trouble the moment a green cat drops onto your lap and refuses to move.

"woonhak,” you sigh, not looking down. “im reading.”

the cat stares at you slow, its tail twitching quick. suddenly - he’s a person, half-dropped on the sofa, legs dangling off, head now resting on your thigh like it’s the most natural thing in the world.

"i can read too,” he says. “you’re just ignoring me.”

"you turned into a cat.”

"exactly. that was my final attempt.”

you glance down at him. his eyes are half-lidded, hair falling into his face, expression unguarded in a way he rarely allows. beast boy is loud, flashy, always moving. woonhak like this—quiet, still—is something only you get to see.

"you’re clingy today,” you say gently.

he hums. “big mission earlier.”

"that was three days ago.”

"yeah, well.” he shifts, fingers curling lightly into the fabric of your sleeve. “it stuck.”

you don’t comment on that. you’ve learned not to push when he gets like this.

the alarm blares before either of you can relax further.

the mission is messy.

hostile terrain, unpredictable enemy, too many civilians nearby. you’re moving in sync with the team when something goes wrong.

a blast throws you off balance, and you hit the ground hard, vision blurring.

you hear your name.

then there’s weight over you, protective, shielding—as woonhak lands beside you, already shifting through forms too fast to track.

"talk to me,” he says, hands on your shoulders. “please.”

“im fine,”you say, even if your chest aches bad.yet still, it’s only breathless pain

he breathes out unevenly, head tilting down to touch your forehead - just for a moment - then shifts away. “don’t pull that stunt. don’t make me panic like this.”

"i didn’t plan it.”

"i know,” he says. “that’s the problem.”

the rest of the mission blurs. you finish it. you always do. but woonhak never leaves your side—not during extraction, not during debrief, not even when medics clear you.

back at the tower, he follows you into your room without a word.

you sit on the edge of the bed, rolling your shoulder carefully. “you can sit, you know.”

"i know.” he doesn’t.

he stands there for a long moment, fists clenched at his sides.

"i don’t like it,” he says finally. “how easy it is to imagine a world where you’re not here.”

you look up at him.

"i've almost died,” he continues quietly. “a lot. i joke about it because if i don’t, it gets too heavy. but when it’s you? i can’t laugh it off.”

you stand and step closer. “woonhak.”

"i don’t want to be the guy who’s always joking when it matters,” he says. “and i don’t want to hide behind turning into something else when I feel too much.”

a dim green light shivers near his form - raw, wild, without order.

"so im not going to do that now.”

he meets your eyes.

"i love you.”

the words hang in the air, steady and certain. no rambling. no joke. just truth.

your chest tightens.

you reach for his hands, grounding him. the glow fades.

"i love you too,” you say. “i’ve loved you. for a while.”

his breath catches. “yeah?”

you nod. “yeah.”

he chuckles - quiet, nothing showy. just tension melting away. then he wraps you up in a hold that's gentle yet firm, as if scared you'd vanish any second.

"youre my anchor,” he murmurs into your hair. “no matter what i turn into, i always come back to you.”

you tilt your head up. “you don’t have to transform to stay.”

he smiles, soft and real. “i know. that’s the best part.”

he leans in and kisses you soft, calm, like hes sure of everything. you draw away slightly but he keeps close, pressing his brows to yours, his gaze bright.

"so” he says, squeezing your hands. “for the record.”

"yes?”

"im done pretending you’re not my weakness.”

you smile. “good.”

——

ju; hi i write more dc x bnd fics, check it out!