#kim deserves to suffer a little

[inkingquills]

Imagine Kim searching his apartment for more polaroids, desperately searching for any more traces of his beloved Porchay that he might’ve missed…

Only to find nothing. And deep down, behind all the careful walls and barriers he’s built up over the years; his soul quietly weeps for what he’s lost.

[jenscx]

LUCID DREAM — ning yizhuo

it’s been years without ning yizhuo in your life. it feels surreal; the day you walked out without an explanation. but just the thought of being able to see her again, it draws you back into the endless loop of loving her.

TAGS — angst, exes to ???, insecurity, model!ning, ambiguous ending, mentions of alcohol, making up, jmj wedding (we don’t actually get to witness it tho)

WORDCOUNT — 7.4k

you stare at the wedding invitation, written neatly at the top, the invitation is addressed to a ning y/n. you want to cry. the invitation clearly stating your ex’s name makes your heart clench uncomfortably. it’s a blaring reminder that your relationship ended and you’re no longer living in your childhood fantasy.

“fuck,” you swear, “fuck you, kim minjeong.” you want to murder minjeong, but who were you to ask minjeong to stop reminding you of your bitter ending? especially since it was your own impulsiveness that had ended the relationship. you could have been more understanding towards yizhuo, could have tried her best to resolve your conflict, but no. instead, you ran. ran like the coward you were.

you remember the brokenhearted look on yizhuo’s face, the devastated glimmer in her eyes before she had flipped her expression to another, like a switch. or more like a broken one, your brain offers unhelpfully. of course, the quiver of her lips had given yizhuo away almost immediately. you had known yizhuo for a third of your life, obviously you could tell when your soulmate– or in this case, ex, was about to break down.

you wish you had stayed, and simply comforted your soulmate like old times, but you couldn’t bear to watch yizhuo cry, because of you. you remember the look on your friends’ faces when you told them that you broke up with yizhuo, all the words they had yelled at her for betraying yizhuo. you remember the anger directed at you by yizhuo’s parents when you had sent them an apology letter. through the post, yizhuo had told you, letters felt more sincere than emails.

but perhaps the worst reaction wasn’t from any of them, it was simply from your own cat. meowing viciously when you had picked him up, bringing him together with you. the scratches lining your arms only serve as a constant reminder. mao, your british short haired, was desperately attached to yizhuo (and she was the one who named him too. what absolute luck.) his hostility could only be reasoned that he knew his owner had hurt yizhuo. if a silly little cat knew the extent of the breakup, what could that mean for you?

“wallowing in your grief again? that’s not good for you,” you peer up at chaewon, the only friend that somehow wasn’t connected to yizhuo. chaewon takes a quick glance at the invitation and giggles, “you’re going? i hope you survive, you haven’t paid this month’s rent yet.”

you merely sigh.

“the place’s gonna be filled with people who hate my guts, you really think i’m going? minjeong probably only sent this to piss me off.”

chaewon frowns, “you don’t seem pissed off, just sad. honey, you have to let me know if they’re bothering you, like actually. it’s not your fault, well– maybe it is, but you’re suffering too. it isn’t nice for them to do this to you.” you shrug in response. you deserve it. you deserve every stab in your heart, you deserve the tears that escape in the middle of the night.

“let’s drink tonight, okay? we’ll put on titanic or something and cry about life while eating ice cream,” chaewon offers. maybe it’s the thought of getting drunk, or titanic, or crying in your friend’s arms, but the offer is appealing and you find yourself agreeing too soon.

you can hear chaewon do a silent cheer. it makes you smile slightly and gives you enough energy to pull yourself up from the floor.

“i’ll go get the soju, just lie on the couch and relax!” you follow as your friend says and lie on the sofa you had picked out together after mao’s claws had sunk into the leather, ripping it to shreds. the cat was a brat.

doesn’t this remind you of something– or someone? the voice in your head quips. you groan, why couldn’t your head shut up sometimes? your heart drops as you recall the conversation between your parents when you had told them you broke things off with yizhuo. you remember your mother’s expression; disappointed and upset, a stark contrast to when you had told her that you finally found someone. the proud look on your father’s when you introduced yizhuo to them, god, why the fuck was yizhuo such an amazing girlfriend?

you caused this. you want to scream ‘no’. you’re the one who dumped yizhuo. who are you to be upset over thi–

“y/n? hey, stop thinking about it,” chaewon pouts, “don’t make yourself even more sad!” you blink back into reality and at the sight of chaewon puffing her cheeks out, holding two bottles of soju and a large bowl of popcorn, make you want to coo at the girl. you push the thoughts of yizhuo to the back of your head as soon as the opening to titanic appears on the screen.

you two laugh sometimes, mostly chaewon, but it’s quiet throughout the movie and you can’t tell whether you’d rather have chaewon’s comments about how cute the actors are or the silence that allows you to delve deeper into your thoughts. you take a sip whenever chaewon mentions how in love jack and rose are.

when you blink, it’s already at the part where jack allows rose to get onto the wooden door, while he stays in the freezing water. chaewon throws popcorn at the tv, apparently already drunk, screaming at rose to quote, “fucking move her ass,” for jack to get on. you take a large gulp of soju in the midst of chaewon’s sniffles.

“y/n…i can’t believe it… she just let jack die!” chaewon cries out, “the love of her life, she just let him go! how could she just let him die?!” you nod, trying to drink the already empty bottle of soju.

when you stand up, the whole room swirls and you stumble back onto the couch. “don’t let her go, y/n!” you jump at the close proximity of chaewon’s voice, “don’t let the love of your life go!”

you hum in agreement and scream, “i won’t let her go!” determined, you pick up your phone and the selfie of you and yizhuo greets her. you miss her, don’t you? of course not. you don’t miss her at all. change your homescreen then. you wouldn’t.

you roll your eyes and enter kakaotalk.

y/n [11.38pm]:

i kiss you

i miss you*

read [11.39pm]

“i did it, chaewon!” you exclaim, “i didn’t let her go!”

drunk you is apparently an idiot, since we all know, if a ‘i love you’ can’t solve a crack, obviously a ‘i miss you’ wouldn’t be able to solve an earthquake.

i miss you too. i miss you so much it hurts. but how could you say that, when you’re the one that left me first? yizhuo doesn’t cry as much anymore. she doesn’t sob into her pillow in the middle of the night anymore. the couple posts that appear on her instagram feed doesn’t make tears well up in her eyes anymore.

it still hurts. hurts as much as it did before. and yizhuo might just have to live with that pain everyday. the misspelt word makes her heart throb, in affection and pain, because she could imagine your voice in her head. are you hurting as much as she is? it doesn’t make the stabbing pain in her chest any better to know that the one she loves is suffering.

yizhuo stares at the glaring light from her phone. i miss you. really y/n? she wants to scoff. you were probably drunk out of your mind and sent that text on a whim. or maybe it was meant for another girl. the thought makes yizhuo want to cry.

is there someone else you call ‘baby' now?

fuck, you think, oh fuck. the read blaring on your phone, as if mocking you.

“shit,” chaewon groans, holding her head, “what happened last night? did we accidentally kill someone?” you wish you did. you take a deep breath, and scream. if the neighbours show up the next moment, it’s totally because of the night before, and not your scream at 8 in the morning.

you calm down. eventually. you calm down after chaewon grabs your shoulders and wiggles you back and forth, yelling for you to get your shit together. it only worsens the raging headache the both of you have. if rent wasn’t so high nowadays, you would have immediately fled and lived alone. kim chaewon with a hangover was not a good sight.

“whatever! you drunk texted your ex! whatever! hashtag yolo right— ah fuck, the room is spinning,” chaewon shrieks, “ugh, why did we drink so much?! but! your life isn’t over! so what if you texted her? it’s okay, we stay delusional and pretend things never happened!”

despite the wacky talk chaewon gives, it actually helps. texting yizhuo, while drunk, was a mistake. you nod hastily, “i get what you’re saying, but please let me go.”

chaewon loosens her grip, pursed lips as she huffs, “the most badass thing you can do now is go to the wedding.”

your eyes widen, “what the hell? kim chaewon, are you crazy? no, you’re insane.”

your roommate only grins lazily, “it came with a plus one invite, right? i’ll go with you. it’ll be okay! and don’t you wanna see your friends again?”

“i do, but most of them hate my guts,” you wince, recalling the angry messages left by aeri and minjeong, none from jimin, that probably speaks for itself what she thought of you, “they were yizhuo’s friends first, and mine second. when it comes to things like this, they would, rightfully so, take yizhuo’s side.”

chaewon whistles, “yeah it’s not looking too good for you right now.”

you flop onto the couch, sighing, “if i see yizhuo, i’ll freeze up and make a fool of myself.” your hands fly to rub at your eyes, groaning miserably, “i guess i’m not over her.”

chaewon slides into the space next to you, scoffing, “you think? having her number saved and pinned is crazy and the last time we talked before this, you were in love with her. what happened?”

your heart constricts painfully. you never spoke about your breakup to anyone, only asking chaewon if she still needed someone to split rent with. the moment you had uttered those words, you had left the shared apartment with yizhuo, not turning back to watch the love of your life collapse.

“i…” your throat dries up, “i was in love with her, i guess i still am. i don’t doubt that she felt the same for me, but maybe not anymore. our relationship was the best thing to ever happen to me. the happiest years of my life were when i was with yizhuo. she made me feel alive.”

tears prick at your eyes involuntarily. chaewon’s gaze is full of pity and comfort. sympathy. no one else gave you that.

“she wanted to get married, chaewon,” you whisper, “she was ready for marriage. i wasn’t.”

“oh.”

“i saw her looking at engagement rings one day and god, it was like, how have i never noticed before? she always shows me videos of weddings and how she would want her wedding to be like, but i never stopped to think whether i wanted marriage. i didn’t know what i would say if yizhuo just proposed. would it have hurt less for her if i said no rather than breaking up with her?”

chaewon presses a comforting hand to your shoulder, sighing, “i’m sorry, i literally see two of you right now but i’ll try to articulate this as best as i can.” her words draw out a hollow laugh from you. “you just weren’t ready yet, and yeah, you should have communicated that to her before jumping in to break up, but have you ever thought that you weren’t ready because you didn’t love her enough?”

you swallow, tears flowing down your cheeks freely, “n-no, i love her. she’s my favourite person. i love her so much, too much even. but getting married? that’s a lifelong commitment. i just didn’t know if she was sure that she really wanted to spend the rest of her life with… me. she has her whole life figured out. she’s a rich model who could have anyone else. we were childhood friends first, before girlfriends. and now she’s certain that she wants to marry me? what if there’s someone better for her out there? she’s only been chained to me because we got together so young. i just… had to let her go.”

“commitment issues,” chaewon states, “you have severe commitment issues.”

“i guess so,” you let out a watery laugh. your roommate chuckles, “you want her back?”

“yeah, i’m desperate.”

“let’s go to the wedding.”

you send a small smile to chaewon, “thanks, roomie.”

“i saw the invite by the way, and damn, are your friends rich? don’t get me wrong, i’m going as your moral support but the free buffet too—”

“i’m literally going to strangle you.”

yizhuo twirls the pen in her hand, watching it glide across her fingers and abruptly landing on the wooden table with a thud. she couldn’t stand seeing all the wedding preparations and chose to hide in jimin’s study. the door creaks open, a figure stands by the doorway.

“hello jimin unnie, aren’t you meant to be looking over the finishing touches of your wedding?” yizhuo asks, her smile dimming as she thinks about marriage. jimin frowns, “minjeong’s doing that. she told me to come check up on you.”

“me?”

“i know how you feel about weddings. we all do,” jimin says bluntly. yizhuo’s lips fall into a thin line. of course her friends were aware. they helped pick out the ring for god’s sake. the weight of a velvet box lying in her bedside table haunts her dreams.

yizhuo stands up from her desk, inching closer to jimin, a faux smile on her face, “you don’t have to worry about me. it’s your special day after all.”

“not yet, but let me worry about my friend for a while more before i get married,” jimin mutters, “minjeong sent an invite to y/n.” yizhuo’s whole body tenses up. a blurry image of you appears in her brain. she immediately shuts that down.

biting the inside of her cheek, yizhuo turns away from jimin with folded arms, “and? did she say she was coming?”

yizhuo hears jimin’s hesitance.

“just say it.”

jimin clears her throat, “she’s coming with a plus one.”

a distant thought forms. a plus one. your new girlfriend? did you find someone else? were you coming to the wedding to flaunt your new lover? yizhuo wasn’t dumb, she knew that her friends disliked you, heavily. minjeong most definitely sent out that invitation with disgust. jimin told her what minjeong had said to you. aeri had barely brushed it off, saying you weren’t worth her time scolding, despite the chain of messages she sent. she knew that you were aware they hated you. why would you come to the wedding?

“i-i’m not sure what’s their relationship, but her name is kim chaewon and oh my god, minjeong’s gonna kill me, y/n requested for a shared hotel room,” jimin utters out nervously. yizhuo’s eyes turn into slits. a shared hotel room?

“i see,” yizhuo says indifferently, contrasting the feelings bubbling inside her, “that’s good to know.”

jimin places a hand on yizhuo’s shoulder, “hey, it could all mean nothing, i don’t want you to get hurt again.”

“does it matter when i’m already like this?” yizhuo retorts back.

“i hope you don’t do anything stupid. before everything, you’re still my friend. if y/n showing up makes you uncomfortable, i’ll tell her she’s not invited,” jimin says softly, “minjeong will understand. you come first.”

“it’s your wedding, jimin. i won’t be a burden to you guys. it’s your day,” yizhuo mirrors jimin’s frown.

jimin’s shoulders slack.

“it’s not about that,” the older girl retorts, exasperated.

“what is it about then?”

“i don’t think minjeong will stay neutral and be calm when she sees y/n,” jimin groans, “she’ll probably pick a fight with her and i don’t want my wife to be stressed and angry on her wedding day.”

yizhuo can’t help teasing jimin, “wife, huh?”

jimin smirks, “yes, wife. you know last week, minjeong called me—”

“oh kay! i think you should go!” yizhuo yells, saving herself from the details of her friends’ intimate lives. jimin cackles maniacally as she leaves the study. yizhuo sighs and leans her head against the wooden door. jimin’s footsteps can be heard as she walks downstairs, along with the voices of her friends. they’re all scattered and anxious, she hears the distant shouting of minjeong and aeri. despite the noise around her, yizhuo feels somewhat at peace. for now. she doesn’t know what she’s going to do the moment you come to the wedding.

because despite what everyone else says, yizhuo cannot move on. you were literally half of her life and more. when you had uttered those words of devastation, it was like the world had ended. a terrible nightmare that tortured yizhuo every single day. was she too overbearing? sometimes— well, last time, you had mentioned that she was a very affectionate and clingy girlfriend. was that the sole reason? yizhuo frowns. no, that couldn’t be. you were equally as physically needy as her.

maybe you had found someone new? the plus one that was coming? that didn’t seem plausible either. if you were cheating, yizhuo would most definitely know and you abhorred cheaters anyway.

as she wrecked her mind for reasons, a common past time she developed after you had left, the constant rewinding of the conversation had been engraved in her brain eternally.

(yizhuo had just gotten off work, a smile on her face as she entered the house, heels clacking against the floor. the thought of you waiting at home impatiently for her only brought her smile to widen. maybe you would run up to her and embrace her warmly, complaining about how long she took. yet, neither of those happened and she’s left staring at you, hunched over, at the dining table, a suitcase packed by your side.

“what are you doing?” she had asked curiously. were you going on a trip? begrudgingly, you had gotten up, a sombre look on your face as you whispered, “yizhuo…”

that ticked yizhuo off. you never called her yizhuo. it was always baby, honey, sweetheart. but never yizhuo. it sounded so foreign and cold coming from your lips.

“what’s wrong? is everything okay?” she asked.

your face contorts into one of utter desperation and heartbreak, “i think we should break up.”

yizhuo’s mind had gone blank. she had never anticipated hearing those words from you. break up? that wasn’t in her future with you. her heart clenched uncomfortably against her ribcage and her throat constricted, to the point she couldn’t mutter a single word.

taking advantage of her silence, you run your fingers through your hair, the hair that yizhuo would so lovingly comb through every night as she whispered words of devotion into your ear, “i want to break up.”

“no.” is the only thing yizhuo can say. wide-eyed and stupefied, “no.”

you look as stunned as she is, yet the stark difference between the two of you, are the tears that threaten to tip over at every passing second in your eyes.

“yizhuo,” you pleaded, “i’m sorry. i can’t.”

“why are you doing this?” she croaked out, demanding an answer. the weight of the velvet box in her purse felt like it was dragging her down to the darkest pits of hell. she couldn’t imagine something like this ever happening. you were meant to be her happily ever after.

“i—”

yizhuo couldn’t stand it anymore. “tell me why you want to break up!” she yelled, the confusion and fatigue of her body overwhelming everything.

“i… please… don’t make this harder than it already is.”

“you don’t love me anymore? you found someone else?” yizhuo accused. of course, none of these were the true reasons. you couldn’t even look at yizhuo in the eye before murmuring an apology again and grasping the suitcase in your hand.

“i love you,” you had whispered at the door, “i’m sorry.”

yizhuo doesn’t even respond. pure shock overtaking her as she watched you leave. the moment the door had closed, sobs took over yizhuo as she collapsed on the floor, heartbroken and devastated at losing the love of her life.

if you truly loved her, you wouldn’t have left so easily.)

that statement plagues yizhuo’s mind for the next few years. it replays in her head repeatedly, like a broken mantra. she knows that it’s unhealthy; to be thinking of you every night before she succumbs to a dreamless sleep. yet, sometimes, yizhuo prays that she might be dreaming, and when she wakes up, you would be right by her side. jimin thinks she should get a therapist. but yizhuo doesn’t want to get over you. she fears that you might just become a hazy memory, lost in anger and grief. she doesn’t want that to happen. because despite everything, the pain you have caused her, she still loves you.

it’s strange, the way love works. yizhuo hates you for doing this to her; ruining her for anyone else because if they even bore a similar trait to you, she would just break down. like the blind date aeri had set her up on long ago. fresh out of the breakup, and with extreme bribery and convincing, yizhuo had met shen xiaoting, one of aeri’s friends, over dinner. aeri had said that maybe yizhuo needed someone closer to her culture, and with the homesickness she felt constantly, the lack of comforting words that you provided, yizhuo agreed.

that date was the whole reason aeri stopped asking yizhuo to go on blind dates, for when xiaoting had mentioned that she liked cats, yizhuo had started bawling, the memory of you playing with your own pet cursing her mind.

it was embarrassing to say the least, and even more embarrassing to explain to xiaoting that it wasn’t her fault. the poor girl had thought yizhuo had something against cats. aeri apologised endlessly as yizhuo cried, with an awkward xiaoting patting her shoulder. at least they became friends.

maybe, with the support of her friends, yizhuo would be able to stand the sight of you at the wedding. it would be totally fine! and if she sees you with someone new, maybe, just maybe, it would give her the motivation to finally get over you.

honestly, screw everything. you literally hate chaewon right now. thankfully, jimin and minjeong had provided a one night stay at the hotel. your apartment (and mao) was being taken care of by sakura, one of chaewon’s friends. there was apparently a party before the actual day. you assumed they would just want a shared bachelorette party. however, your self-proclaimed wingman was cozying up to one of the guests. by her straight posture and gentle expression, she was probably nakamura kazuha from high school. yizhuo was friends with her, you remember.

you couldn’t believe that all those words of encouragement had flown out the window the moment chaewon locked eyes with the ‘love of her life’. you roll your eyes, already annoyed with your friend. somehow, you still hadn’t spotted yizhuo amongst the crowd.

most of them, you didn’t recognise. some, from high school and college. the rest, probably family members. maybe some faces stood out, like shin ryujin from history class or jang wonyoung, the valedictorian. but mostly, unrecognisable. from the various mops of hair in the crowd, you spot uchinaga aeri’s infamous smirk. you wonder where the rest of the group are.

you sigh, taking a lonely sip of the champagne they provided. at least it was good.

chaewon’s obnoxious laughter fills the area. it’s loud and irritating, or maybe you’re just easily annoyed right now. kazuha just stares at her, all confused. it’s a little funny.

“y/n.” a steely voice rings out from the crowd. you whip your head, heart racing at the familiar but dreadful tone.

“oh,” you whisper, horror-stricken. you weren’t prepared to meet them now!

the older girl merely stares at you, before you bow your head hesitantly, “congratulations on your marriage.”

jimin visibly loosened up, her eyes twinkling and shining with adoration, “thank you.” perhaps out of all of yizhuo’s friends, jimin was the one who hated you the least. she didn’t bother scolding you or cursing you out, only choosing to glare at you.

“i think we should talk,” she finally says after a moment of silence. you wholeheartedly agree with her. if you were meant to see yizhuo tomorrow, you definitely needed another friend that wasn’t chaewon.

she brings you out of the function room, the starry night sky being the only company outside. jimin takes a long gulp of her champagne.

“why’d you really break up with yizhuo?”

the patiently and dedicated stitches of a sewed wound are ripped apart, directly exposing your bleeding heart and emotions. everything comes falling apart the moment she asks. you can only stare at her.

“i… i made a mistake,” you shake your head, “i wasn’t ready.”

jimin, patient as always, hums, urging you to continue.

“she wanted to get married. i didn’t,” you say, with grief and regret lacing your every word, because everything would be fine if you had just talked to yizhuo.

“we helped her pick out the ring,” jimin adds. you only feel more guilty.

“i can’t give her the life she wants, unnie,” the endearing term of intimacy slips out, a cry filled with desperation, “she deserves the world and i can’t give her that.”

“you were her world. it’s that simple. she only ever wanted you.”

hurt gnaws at your heart, it’s palpitating with raw stabs that echo of your heartbreak.

“i don’t deserve her,” you sigh, “i had to let her go. i couldn’t bear to see the look on her face if i refused her engagement.”

jimin nods, “i understand your fear. but i hate the fact that this could have been solved with an explanation.”

you groan, anger coursing through your veins. you were so upset and narrow-minded at the time. the only solution was to seemingly break up with yizhuo. it would spare her the everlasting pain from a rejection of her proposal.

“i know, i just couldn’t at that time.”

the older girl tries to smile. it’s akin to one of those encouraging ones she would give right before an exam or test. it sparks a shiver of nostalgia.

“jagiya, where are you— oh.”

jimin quickly straightens up, swiftly turning around to face minjeong with a grin, “hey, mindoong.”

you tense up, your fingers wrapping around the glass tightly.

“glad you could make it,” minjeong’s eyes flicker up and down your body, venom evident in her tone as she hisses, “y/n.”

nodding, you reply, “thank you for inviting me.”

the tension is overbearing; with minjeong’s glares, jimin’s beaming smile and your awkward shuffling, you couldn’t wait to retreat to the comfort of your hotel room.

“where’s your girlfriend?” minjeong suddenly asks. you stare at her, confused, “my what?”

jimin’s eyes widen as she hastily pulls minjeong aside, frantically whispering in her ear. but like the past, jimin has never been a good whisperer. you catch phrases like ‘she might not be her girlfriend’ and ‘what if yizhuo hears?’. a looming sensation brews in your stomach.

“kim chaewon? is that her name?” minjeong asks harshly, “didn’t take you to like korean girls, i thought you liked chinese girls instead.”

you’re visibly taken aback. what was minjeong saying? chaewon? your girlfriend? since when was chaewon your girlfriend?

“uh,” despite your fear of minjeong yelling at you, your words come out firmly, “chaewon isn't my girlfriend.”

minjeong falters slightly before scoffing, “yeah right. you don’t have to lie now. we all know that you left yizhuo for some other girl.”

your heart stops. what?

what was she saying?

leaving yizhuo for another girl?

“i— i would never… that’s—”

“minjeong unnie, that’s enough.”

you’ve thought of this moment forever. every single day after the break up. you’ve thought of running back into her arms, apologising endlessly for even thinking of breaking up with her. you’ve thought of how she would accept you graciously with murmurs of comfort, because that was just how she was. a gracious and generous girl who deserved the world. you’ve thought of her bright smile and gleaming eyes.

you’ve never thought of her staring at you, a dull and saddened look on her face.

“ning—”

“minjeong unnie,” she pleads, “please.”

the watery gaze must have swayed minjeong over. you would know, having fallen prey to her puppy eyes before. yizhuo slides the door open, watching intently as minjeong and jimin leave.

“good luck,” jimin whispers just before she steps away. you think you need all the luck in the world right now.

yizhuo lets out a heavy sigh once the door slides closed. she gazes at you for a second. you’re taken back to your younger days, where every day was spent just staring at yizhuo. you had proclaimed confidently that yizhuo was the most gorgeous girl on earth. you aren’t wrong. the years you spent apart from her had done her generously. it had only been two, yet, yizhuo looked more mature and sure of herself.

“did you really find someone new?” she whispers, shattering the glass of ignorance. you swallow, shaking your head, “no.”

yizhuo thinks back to the drunken message you had sent.

“was that on purpose? that text you sent,” she asks, eyes wide and afraid of your answer.

you shake your head again, “i was drunk. i’m sorry.”

“i hate you, you know that right?” yizhuo says. before, you had imagined the piercing stab of pain that came with those words. you had thought it would be the end of your life, with the girl you loved the most saying she hated you.

it’s understandable now, and inevitable.

“i know,” you whisper.

yizhuo continues to stare at you. somehow, this all feels like a fever dream, one that she’ll wake up from soon. it feels unreal to have you in front of her again.

she takes in the sight of you, memorising every detail for if you leave again.

“why’d you come then?”

there are many reasons that you can say, with varying degrees of truthfulness; to congratulate jimin and minjeong, to see your friends again, to just visit your hometown.

“i wanted to see you.” it’s the truthest thing you’ve ever said.

“you can’t,” yizhuo inhales sharply, “yo-you can’t just show up like this.”

“i know, i’m sorry.”

your head hangs lowly.

“tell me the real reason why you left.”

you had expected this.

she would want closure.

your throat constricts uncomfortably.

“i… yizhuo…”

“tell me.” it feels similar to your past.

yizhuo looks as beautiful as ever. she’s the only thing you can think of right now. her lips are moving, yet you don’t hear a single thing.

“i didn’t want marriage.”

oh.

the girl’s eyebrows furrow. her eyes turning into slits of anger as she takes in a deep breath. you know she’s about to start tearing up. maybe you should quickly explain yourself.

it’s your only chance.

“i saw you looking at engagement rings and i knew i wouldn’t be ready if you got down on one knee. you’re a model, for god’s sake. you had a prospering career, being tied down to someone like me wouldn’t bring you any benefits,” you finally say. it’s not the full reason why, but you hope yizhuo would understand even a semblance of your choice.

“i know that it’s a shitty excuse. i know that i’m a coward. but what else was i meant to do?”

yizhuo huffs.

“talked to me. you could have talked to me.”

you resist the urge to roll your eyes.

“would that stop me from breaking your heart?”

the love of your life stands before you. yet, it seems like the only words of devotion you’ll exchange is how devoted she is to hating you. yizhuo crosses her arms, frowning, “yes. i’d much rather have a minute of heartbreak than years of it. you’re such a prick.”

“yizhuo—”

“no, you don’t get to do this,” she points a finger at your chest, prodding the area where your head resides ferociously, “you can’t just come back, explain yourself with an extremely stupid reason, and expect that i would be okay with it. you sent me a drunk text, saying you missed me. how come i don’t feel anything?”

“i love you, yizhuo. i just did what i thought was right in that moment—”

the only thing you can hear is your heart shattering into pieces at the sight of tears falling down her face. yizhuo sniffles, her voice becoming shrill as she adds on, “you’re an asshole. you think you’re the only one in this relationship? you didn’t even explain yourself properly. you think you’re making the right choices for us? for me?”

you continue to stare at her blankly.

the next words come out like a gunshot, “then you don’t know me at all.”

it snaps onto your skin, leaving a scathing burn and engraving ning yizhuo’s name into your body. your insides coil up painfully. hearing yizhuo’s cries as you left years ago had been torturous, but nothing beats her breaking down in front of you right this instant. you’re overcome with a striking urge to pull her into your arms and whisper words of affection into her ears, promising her to never leave. the pet name leaves your mouth quicker than you can think.

“baby—”

a sharp stinging sensation sears in your right cheek. you can feel the affected area heating up, scorching hot and red. yizhuo’s handprint is evident, singed in your skin.

an onslaught of tears rises, but you’re determined to not let them fall.

“okay,” you whisper, unable to say anything else to the equally stunned yizhuo, “i’ll leave. i’m sorry.”

the girl just stands outside in the cold, her eyes bloodshot and cheeks rosy from the wind. before you go, the slight shiver that runs through her body makes you hesitate. the comfort of your jacket feels like a heavy burden now.

maybe you would get slapped again. but at least yizhuo wouldn’t be cold.

gently taking it off, you encase yizhuo in your jacket, biting your cheek (which still hurts!) to resist a smile at how it covers her small figure. she gazes at you like a deer caught in headlights. you sigh and try to move your legs, but they feel like jelly. with much difficulty, you finally make it to the door, using the frame to stabilise your wobbly walking.

when you turn back, yizhuo isn’t staring at you, but she’s staring at the night sky, more specifically, the moon. you take one last look at her. the weight on your shoulders is gone now. and all that is left is a longing feeling to have yizhuo back in your arms again. but maybe, you could live with that.

sliding the door open, you go back into the function room. the crowd had dispersed, leaving just a few people chatting around. you spot jimin and minjeong talking while drinking. aeri’s at the bar, engaged in a conversation with a waitress. chaewon, god bless her, is relatively nearby, while kazuha is nowhere to be found.

“chaewon,” you breathe out, relieved. she turns to you, startled, “oh damn, what happened to your face? you look a little…”

“i know,” you laugh dryly, “i think it’s time for us to leave and go to sleep now.”

chaewon doesn’t argue and instead nods, her eyes drawn to the reddening mark across your cheek. even in the dark light, she could still notice the imprints of someone’s fingers.

“she slapped you?” she asks while you head towards the elevator.

“yeah,” you scratch the back of your neck, “we kind of… argued.”

chaewon laughs heartily at your misfortune. you’re glad at least this brings someone joy. maybe minjeong too. she would love to see you in pain.

“i think you should get some rest buddy,” she pats your back. you nod, feeling as if sleep was just an arm’s reach away.

the conversation with yizhuo had drained you significantly, both mentally and physically. and maybe you should put some ointment on the red area too. you might wake up with a bruise or something tomorrow.

the urge to flop into bed is too strong as chaewon slides the keycard into the slot. the door opens, revealing a luxurious hotel suite with a king-sized bed. you remember requesting for a shared room. it was to mainly prevent yourself from doing anything reckless when drunk. you’d have chaewon to keep you grounded.

“did you get kazuha’s number?” you ask as chaewon throws her face cleanser at you. the girl giggles, “yeah. she’s so cute.”

you subtly cringe at the lovestruck look in her eyes.

groaning, you head into the bathroom. your eyes widen as you prod at your cheek, shocked that yizhuo landed such a heavy hit. damn, has she been going to the gym lately? the yizhuo back then barely had any strength to resist your tickles. there wasn’t any surging hot anger left from yizhuo slapping you, just a dull and yearning hope for her. maybe you should calm yourself down by taking a cold shower.

after dowsing yourself with water, you padded out of the bathroom, only to discover that chaewon wasn’t hunched over her luggage anymore.

you check your phone.

chaewon [10.27pm]:

zuha texted me, staying w her for the night

there’s ointment on the bedside table

for ur stupid face

bye :p

wow. chaewon had managed to do that within a day. staying at a girl’s hotel room? you whistle lowly. maybe she was onto something. but with her departure, the hotel room feels too quiet now. only the breezing and fluttering sounds of the airconditioning accompanying your thoughts of self-loathing. collapsing onto the bed, you reach out for the ointment.

just as you unscrew the cap, the doorbell rings. you don’t recall ever ordering room service. maybe it was chaewon and she forgot something?

you turn the door knob, not bothering to check who it was.

“chaewon—”

ning yizhuo stands before you, glassy eyes and a look of desperation that you’re familiar with.

“oh.”

she shuffles awkwardly, gesturing at your cheek, “are—is it okay? does it hurt?”

gulping, you shake your head.

“can we talk?” she asks, in the quietest voice ever, her words coming out shaky and breathless.

you open the door wider.

yizhuo mutters a soft, “thank you,” as she enters the room. you quickly send a text to chaewon telling her not to come back.

“did you put any cream on it?” she asks.

“no, not yet. i was just about to,” you reply quietly. the tension from the heated argument from before had disapparented, only leaving a strained relationship behind.

“can you sit down?”

you follow her instructions dutifully, sitting right at the edge of the bed. yizhuo lifts the ointment up, squeezing a bit on her finger before gently rubbing it into your cheek. it hurts, but the softness of her touch heals the area.

wincing as she applies more pressure, you can only stare at the girl.

“i’m sorry,” she whispers.

“it’s okay.”

you want to pull her into your arms.

you want her to lean onto you.

you want the feeling of her skin against yours.

“i was really hurt.”

“i know.”

yizhuo sighs, her hands dropping.

“i can’t believe you left me so easily.”

your chest tightens at the devastated tone in her voice. it wasn’t easy, you want to say. but it doesn’t feel right to defend yourself now.

“i thought it was the right thing to do.”

yizhuo lifts her head up, “why didn’t you just tell me you didn’t want to get married?”

“i don’t know,” it comes out in a hushed murmur, “i didn’t want to tie you down. you had a lot more things to accomplish.”

“i’d rather have you and nothing than losing you and having everything.”

the confession goes unsaid. because you’re her everything.

“i’m sorry. you just had your whole life in front of you and i was in the back. i… i didn’t fit into your life.”

the girl takes everything in. you were just so afraid then. scared that once you said yes to her proposal, yizhuo might realise that you weren’t the one for her. you’d rather be away from her, than be with her and make her unhappy. you didn’t want to live a miserable life where you hated each other.

“you don’t get to make that choice for me.”

“i know, yizhuo.”

yizhuo’s eyes are brimming with tears. her raven hair covering her face partially, but you can feel the pain radiating off her.

“you know that i would have been happy just being with you?”

“i know.”

“god, you still left like it was the easiest decision of your life.”

no it wasn’t, you again want to protest.

“you know that even in another life, i would choose to just have you by my side, even if i lose everything else? don’t you understand the extent of my love for you?”

it’s so surreal— the way yizhuo is practically begging for you to realise that leaving her was the worst possible choice for you to make.

“i love you too much.”

“then why’d you leave?” she asks.

through tears, you shakily breathe out, “because i love you too much.”

the lack of past tense doesn’t bother you, nor does it bother yizhuo. it’s a given that you’re still madly in love with the girl, and vice versa. it only leaves the question of what will happen now. yizhuo doesn’t say much afterwards. it’s the truth. you love her too much that you couldn’t bear to see her suffer because of you.

“i was so ready to marry you, i bought a ring,” yizhuo mutters, shedding tears. her sniffles aren’t concealed by the low humming of the air conditioning. it feels too real.

“forgive me, please,” you say.

“i can’t.”

the hotel room goes quiet.

“that’s okay,” it’s hard to say. you want to protest against everything, beg yizhuo to take you back and you could live your happily ever after with her.

it doesn’t happen. you don’t fall to your knees and plead.

you only stare at yizhuo in a mix of fear and longing affection. it pains you to see her so broken, and it only drives the knife further into your heart to know you’re the reason why.

“i’m so tired, y/n.”

you nod, feeling the fatigue seep in.

“me too.”

“can i sleep here tonight?” yizhuo asks softly.

you nod. there were still things to talk about, but you think you’ve done a decent job so far. pulling the covers over your bodies as yizhuo slides into the bed, you relish in the warmth and comfort of having her beside you again.

she turns her head to look at you, uncertainty filling her voice, “let’s talk more in the morning. i’m tired now.”

you agree with her wholeheartedly, inching closer to fit against her back.

as yizhuo’s eyelids flutter shut, you caress her skin tenderly. your index finger writes against her back, strokes lining her skin.

我爱你.

i love you. it’s one of the many phrases you’ve picked up throughout the years of being with the girl. she only taught you silly words and swears, but yizhuo had insisted you learn how to say and write those very words.

it’s fitting, because it’s all you ever feel for her.

because of yizhuo, you’ve had the opportunity to experience having a soulmate for almost your whole life. because of yizhuo, there’s no lingering doubt of being unlovable. because of yizhuo, you get to spend your days filled with happiness.

because of yizhuo, you understand what love is.

you just hope she understands you too.

[iamtired10]

ATTENTION

— fluffy headcanons

pairing - newjeans members x female reader

synopsis - how they would react when you don’t give them attention or are busy

warning - kisses.. and cuteness

a/n - last one :( im going to sleep. im tired ughhh

requested by — @minjis-girlfriend

minji (kim minji)

when you’re too caught up in something and not giving minji the attention she craves, she doesn’t pout or whine outright.

no, she’s too soft for that.

but don’t be fooled, she knows exactly how to get what she wants.

she’d quietly slip onto the couch beside you, her head resting on your shoulder as her fingers casually play with the hem of your shirt.

at first, she doesn’t say anything, just lets out these quiet little sighs, as if she’s trying to keep her cool.

but when that doesn’t work, she’d lean in closer, her voice soft against your ear, “are you done yet? or do i need to wait longer?”

her tone is teasing, but there’s a little edge of neediness she can’t quite hide.

and if you still ignore her, oh, she’ll take matters into her own hands.

she’d lightly grab your chin, turning your face to hers, her lips brushing yours so gently you’d barely feel it.

“hey… i’m right here. pay attention to me, okay?”

that’s when you’d cave, giving her the full attention she deserves, and she’d smile, pressing her lips to yours again as if to say, “took you long enough.”

hanni (pham hanni)

hanni’s the clingiest little brat when you don’t give her the attention she craves.

it’s cute, though—you’d be minding your own business, and suddenly she’d flop onto your lap, stretching out dramatically like she’s been suffering for hours.

“babe, hellooo? i’m literally right here, dying from neglect. do you not love me anymore?” she’d whine, her lips in a perfect pout.

she’d poke your cheek, her big puppy eyes staring right into yours, trying to guilt-trip you into looking at her.

if that didn’t work, she’d grab your face with both hands, squishing your cheeks together as she pouts dramatically. “you’re so mean. look at me. i need love.”

and when you finally give in, rolling your eyes but secretly loving her dramatics, she’d burst into giggles, snuggling into your neck.

“see? was that so hard? now kiss me, dummy.”

she’d pepper your face with kisses, giggling when you try to squirm away, but honestly, you wouldn’t want to be anywhere else.

danielle (danielle marsh)

danielle is a sweetheart, so when you don’t give her attention, she doesn’t get mad, but she’ll let you know in the cutest way possible.

she’d walk over, her eyes big and sad, and just sit beside you, a quiet little sigh escaping her lips.

she’d rest her head on your shoulder, fingers lightly brushing against your arm, but she wouldn’t say anything.

after a few minutes of silence, she’d quietly mumble, “i missed you today… but it’s okay, i know you’re busy.”

and just like that, she’d break your heart with how soft she is.

when you finally turn to her, feeling bad for not noticing her sooner, she’d give you this small, sweet smile, like she’s been waiting patiently the whole time.

“i just wanted a little time with you… that’s all.” she’d wrap her arms around your waist, pulling you close.

and when you hold her back, she’d snuggle deeper into your embrace, pressing the softest kiss to your cheek.

“thanks, love. that’s all i needed.”

haerin (kang haerin)

haerin isn’t one for grand gestures when she wants attention, but she makes it known in her own way.

if you’ve been ignoring her for too long, she’d just stand there, arms crossed, staring at you.

at first, you wouldn’t notice, but when you feel that intense gaze boring into you, you’d look up and see her watching you, her expression unreadable.

she wouldn’t say a word—just stand there, waiting.

you’d try to brush it off, but haerin’s patience is unmatched. she’d just stand closer, her eyes narrowing a bit as if to say, “i’m waiting.”

when you finally give up and look at her properly, she’d give a small nod, as if she’s accomplished her mission.

she’d sit beside you, wrapping her arms around your waist without saying anything.

she’d rest her head on your shoulder, and you’d know that this was her way of asking for attention—quiet and subtle, but impossible to ignore.

and when you lean in to kiss her, she’d smile softly, her grip tightening around you as if to say, “finally.”

hyein (lee hyein)

hyein? oh, she’s not subtle at all.

when she wants your attention and you’re not giving it to her, she’s gonna let you know.

she’d stomp over to wherever you are, arms crossed, her lips in a perfect pout. “are you seriously ignoring me right now? am i invisible or something?”

she’d huff, sitting down next to you with a dramatic flop.

“unbelievable. i’m your girlfriend, and you’re just sitting here, doing whatever.”

she’d glare at you for a second before grabbing your arm, pulling you into her lap. “fine, if you won’t give me attention, i’ll take it.”

hyein would hold you close, her arms around your waist, her chin resting on your shoulder.

and even though she’s acting like a brat, you know she just wants to be close to you. she’d press a kiss to your cheek.

“next time, pay attention to me, okay?” she’d whisper, her voice softening, but still full of sass.

you’d roll your eyes, but you’d kiss her cheeks, knowing full well that this is exactly what she wanted from the start.

a/n: i think i'm feeding y’all way too much 💔

[weaponizedducks]

poor shiro cannot catch a fucking break can he. first he gets a crippling disease he's got two years to live. then an angsty wattpad breakup with his boyfriend then he gets kidnapped by aliens and pumped full of alien weed then he crashes on earth with so much walking midlife crisis energy that he gains the skinning puppies to make a fur coat hair, and then he immediately gets shot right back into space by his shittass little brother and weirdo friends with the literal matt clone. then this poor man is made the leader of an alien war, becomes a father to four fuckass teenagers through accidental child acquisition, is forced into the kim kardashian lifestyle by a ginger on drugs, gets kidnapped again, gets cloned, fucking dies, somehow comes back (yeah I'm not really clear about this) then this pathetic wet cat of a man, this stressed jean valjean father of four, experiencing his fourth midlife crisis and millionth mental breakdown, gains that senior citizen swag at twenty five. you could colour match his hair with a polar bear. then he witnesses a walking loreal ad (derogatory) get melted alive, watches a castle get blown up, loses three years in a space time jump and then finds out his ex- fiance who broke up with him right before he left has fucking died in a purple thumb invasion before he got to marry him. but oh no no no that's not the end for this poor sad man. poor guy doesn't get a second to grieve before he is visually assaulted by a less cunty sue sylvester ripoff and her gang of bitchy cheerios (this is admiral s*nda), and yet again made a leader against his will, and shot right back off into space again. then he watches the only other responsible adult in this entire franchise (hot badass space princess who like shiro did not catch a break) sacrifice herself and is left a struggling father. ends up marrying some random fucko. all while suffering through his shitass hot topic brother and blueberry disaster's doomed yaoi romance. oh yeah and he's only got one arm. give the guy a BREAK. FREE my man he doesn't deserve this 🔥🔥

[slytherinshua]

MRS. SCROOGE VS KIM DONGHYUN

genre. comfort. warnings. implied that reader has depression and depressive thoughts throughout the fic. reader uses humour to make their depression seem lighthearted. not proofread. pairing. leehan x reader. wc. 762. request. requested by anon for #39: "don't listen to the voices in your head, listen to mine." a/n. i love leehan :( the way hes the best in bonedo at emotions and like the therapist ugh i love him so much!!! also this was very inspired by personal experience. net. @onedoornet

Donghyun knew something was up with you when he found you sitting in front of the fish tank instead of in your room. As the co-parent of the fishies, of course it was normal for you to check up on them. But zoning out in front of them? That was a Donghyun thing.

“What’s up?” He asked, pulling up a chair beside you, mirroring the position you were sitting in with your arms wrapped around your knees.

“The sky.” You mumbled, giving your boyfriend a mere glance before your gaze moved back to the shrimp at the bottom of the tank.

Donghyun sighed, “I know you’ve been stressed out lately. I just wanted to know if there was anything I could do to help. You don’t have to tell me if you don’t feel like it.” He told you, also looking at the tank, knowing eye contact might have the opposite effect of the one he wanted.

You huffed, “The voices, Donghyun.”

Donghyun raised an eyebrow, “The voices?” 

You bit the inside of your cheek and turned to him, “The ones that tell me I’m useless and that nobody cares about me. You know the ones— annoying little devils, but they’re so convincing.” 

Donghyun hummed in understanding, a sad smile on his face. He adored you and the way you described things, even the little depression dementors that tormented you. You were so full of life despite how much you suffered. From the moment he first saw you until now, you amazed Kim Donghyun.

“Don’t listen to that voice inside your head, listen to mine.” He said, reaching for your hand. You met his eyes skeptically, not sure what your boyfriend had up his sleeve. But you were sure it was something. If there was one thing you were sure of, it was that Donghyun never failed to surprise you. He was always unexpected.

“I love you. I think you’re amazing, you know? No matter what, I’m always going to be here for you. Even when you don’t think you deserve it or when you wish you could just disappear. Trust me, if I wanted to leave— if I didn’t actually love you— I would’ve been long gone by now.” He told you, his voice confident, reassuring, loving.

And you wanted to believe him. You wanted to cling onto every word that left his mouth and believe them like they were gospel. You wanted to kiss him senseless and forget about the rotten world you were blessed enough to meet him in. But that voice inside your head said otherwise, fighting off the words your boyfriend told you, labelling them as lies, as promises that he would break just like everyone had before. You weren’t worth it. You weren’t worth anyone’s care or love. There was no way Donghyun actually—

“Y/n. What did I say? Don’t listen to the voice. What’s his name anyway?”

“Her name, actually. Mrs. Scrooge. She’s Scrooge’s grumpier wife. She’s insufferable.” You said, a little smile playing on your lips.

“Mrs. Scrooge? Must be tiring having to host that old lady in your pretty head.” Donghyun smiled, a mix of amusement and sadness in his voice. You just nodded, finally cracking a proper smile. “Well, tell Mrs. Scrooge that she’s not invited to this discussion.” Donghyun added, giving your hand a squeeze.

“Alright. I think she’ll go to bed for the night if I ask her.” You mumbled, staring back at the corydoras swimming around without a thought in the tank. They didn’t know how awful the world was— they only knew Donghyun and his perfectly caring nature. You wished you were a fish. But that would be impossible. At least you had Donghyun regardless.

“I love you. Thanks for getting her to go to sleep. She’s a real headache.” You mumbled, starting to stand up. Donghyun followed your movements, walking behind you to the kitchen.

“Are you feeling better?” He asked gently.

You hummed, “A lot better. Thank you.” 

Donghyun smiled, heart now at ease. He opened his arms for you and you fell into them, letting Donghyun bury his nose in your hair, pressing occasional kisses to the top of your head. 

The world was rarely kind to you, and some days it felt as if you were beaten so low to the ground that giving up and collapsing completely would be the better choice. But, no matter what, Donghyun always found you and offered you his hand, helping you up again with a reassuring smile and a promise to always be by your side.

↳ boynextdoor taglist (bolded could not be tagged): @rizzshimura,, @captivq,, @icyminghao,, @eternalgyu,, @metalchick529,,

@schmocolateschmchip,, @kpoprhia,, @candewlsy,, @weird-bookworm,, @blossominghunnie,,

@kangtaehyunzzz,, @snowflakemoon3,, @lovialy,, @lecheugo,, @okshu,,

@wccycc,, @seunghancore,, @ujisworld,, @sobun1est,, @emmylksblog,,

@talkingsaxy,, @talking-saxy,, @nicholasluvbot,, @cupidslovearrows,, @dimplewonie,,

@hrtsvivis,, @50-husbands,, @hursheys,, @kristianities

[chasing-posts]

People who deserve redemption, according to Thomas Astruc, written from least to worst of a bad character.

Kim Lê Chiến

Dumbass teenage boy who could have killed Marinette with a dumb prank he was completely concious of, and willing to commit. The boy was also a brat/ bully throughout season 1, but after Dark Cupid had apparently decided to be nicer off screen. Became friends with Max and got a girlfriend... BUT still refers to Chloe as the funniest and prettiest girl, IN FRONT of said girlfriend. Sees nothing wtong with what he did to the point of getting upset enough to become akumatized over the issue. He was allowed to be a super hero without even apologizing to Marinette dor over a year, and did a lot of dumb stuff tht was also forgiven just because. Is also one of the most inconsistently written characters in tbe story.

Jagged Stone

Possibly the most likable man on the list. However this man abandoned his twins and didn't contact them for 14 years. He kept his identity a secret and it's not even known if he paid child support before coming back into their lives, and constantly having fights with their mother.

That said he's put low on the list because we don't know if he did or did not pay child support. He's not mean to his children or kids in general, he is legit trying to make up for his absence and he originally left because his life was too chaotic to have custody. There's a lot of ambiguity and behind the scenes drama that is not explored (*cough thought out cough cough*) in this family, and it's even possible the mom fought for full custody to keep him away after a big break up. The situation is too ambiguous to judge.

Sabrina Raincomprix

Sabrina has been Chloe's number 1 supporter and follower for almost a decade. They were childhood friends and wherever Chloe went, she went. She has been supporting Chloe bad deeds and even happily participating throughout most of them. There were two incidents in season 1 where they almost stopped being friends and Marinette made an attempt to leave the friendship once, but for the most part has stuck throigh and done everything Chloe has wanted her to do and loved doing it. This includes stealing, faking notes, doing her homework, coming up with schemes to bully, laughing at all the chaos, making grown women and other teens cry and so much more. She was even given the dog Miraculous in season 4, by Marinette, despite doing nothing to earn it and only being good at soccer and wanting to SAVE Chloe, so they could bully another day.

In the end she's given a redemption arc because she feels bad for stealing (all of a sudden), and because Chloe was becoming friends with Lilah. The fact she's an active participant in bullying who gets off on the power trip of putting others drown, is not brought up again

Alec Cataldi

Alec's career is based on putting other people down, and is responsible for the first akumatized victim in the show back in episode 1. For four seasons, his entire personality was finding people, mocking them, on television or in person, and getting views off it. He's a spiteful man who makes his living off the suffering of others.

However in season 4 we find out that his biggest dream was to become a drag queen when he was little, and he was mocked for it. After that happened he shaved his hair off and started putting down other people's passions, in the same way his had dreams had been squashed. After his first and only akumatization, he has a break down and epithany, decides to live his true self and raise people up instead instead. On paper, he has the best redemption arc so far.

Félix Fathom

Fèlix was introduced in season 3, and his first on-screen acts include destroying Adrien's things, trying to ruin his cousin's reputation and leave him friendless, sexually assaulting Ladybug, and stealing from the Agreste family. He continues his bad deeds in season four with identity theft, and stealing all the Miraculous' from Ladybug and giving them to Gabriel/ AKA Hawkmoth, in return for the Peacock Miraculous.

We learn in season 5 he's a sentimonster who's been acting out due to an abusive father and his fragile existence in the world. He uses his power to remove everyone in the world in a misplaced effort to make him and his cousin happy, before eventually being talked down by Kagami and Adrian.

He eventually starts stalking Kagami and after revealing himself, they start a relationship together. He seems socially inept and yet despite all his knowledge on his, Adrien's and Kagami's situation, he decides to never tell Adrian aboht what's happening and only Marinette in the most awkward dance number ever.

All in all Fèlix had every opportunity and all the power to reveal Hawkmoth's true identy from the start, but never took the steps to reveal his identity and work towards true redemption. And if he decided to tell Chat Noir/ Ladybug the whole story, the three of them could have defeated monarch. And Adrien and Kagami would nit have been forced to goto London.

André Bourgeois

Andrè is a corrupt mayor, who uses his elected title and money to regularly take advantage of the people of Paris. He has fired people without just cause (even his own "friends"), tried to steal things he was denied, abused funds, and enable his daughters worst decisions. He raised Chloe alone since she was 4-6, and has both neglected her emotional needs, refused to parent his child, rewarded her bad behavior with material possessions, and allowed her to idolize her mother, and even encouraged her to model her behavior after her mother she abandoned them, and then abandons her and hands her over to her abusive mother at the end of the series, while taking in her half sibling, who he has not raised and has no legal claim over.

Andrè blames the women in his life for how he's turned out. Claiming he only wanted to be a film director, and only left to be a successful business tirant and corrupt political figure, for his wife Audrey. Who he still stays married to after she cheats on him, and moves away for half a decade, abandoning hik and their own daughter. He chooses to stay married. Chose to stay in that career and chose to constantly rip off and screw over the people of paris. Often being the cause of akumatization, and ruinging big events for his daughter's whims. Keep in mind, the only reason Chloe is like this now, is because of Aundrè's parenting, yet he never takes responsibility for that, and instead decides to abdocate his position, illigally allow his daughter to take control of the city, let her take all the fall for HIS crimes, and then abandon her to live with his step daughter instead.

All this to say that Andrè may be the second worst on the list, but I hate him the most.

Gabriel Agreste

What can't you say about this man. This man loves being evil. He dances through the halls when a scheme looks like it's about to work. His entire power is taking advantage of people at thier worst, enslaving them and then making them do his bidding. His list of victims includes literal babies, children of all ages, the mentally ill, the elderly, and even his own son. The son which he claims to love but whom he actively manipulates, abuses and mistreats throughout the ENTIRE series. He literally controls him to make him do whatever he wants, and when he acts out or says something he does not like, he belittles him and will actively punish him if he gets less than perfect.

Gabriel also disrespects and will backstab all his allies. Has enslaved 2 kwami's and claims everything he does is for his dead wife, whose corpse he keeps locked away in his basement. He is actively going against her wishes to stay dead and manipulates the love of the women around him, like Natalie, to move forward with his evil plans.

Lastly when he says he does it all for his wife, he's lying. Because the when he has the opportunity to go back in time and save his wife, or fight Ladybug, he actively chooses the latter.

He constantly terrorizes Paris, actively makes situations worst for people to make more akumatized victims, destroys property, all while he hides away in the shadows. Then finally in season 5, when he is confronted by Ladybug, he is given the opportunity to reform and really think about what he did. To reflect on all he's done. He uses a moment of vulnerability and weakness to manipulate Marinette and treats her like the puppet she's named after. His last act of the show is stealing the Miraculous, using the cat and Ladybug to destroy and recreate the world how he wills, where he's the hero and no one knows he's the villain, and his son who he abused for 5 seasons and now has left parentless, now sees him as a hero.

[sdeprived]

The Oldest Dream & Kim Dokja's guilt.

Even if 100% kdj could've gone back with the Kimcom after their encounter with OD I highly doubt he would've been able to happily walk out of that train with them as if nothing happened. That kind of development was always impossible, bc kdj himself wouldn't DARE to imagine it after what he discovered when he met Oldest Dream.

He felt so much guilt that he couldn't and wouldn't be able to forgive himself, so that final act of heroism and salvation -stepping up as the OD and staying behind to maintain that world's existence- was also his self imposed punishment, and he needed that more than he needed his own happiness.

That's why the part of him that went back with the Kimcom was the half that didn't remember being OD. He wouldn't be able to look at his companions' faces knowing that all of the tragedies happened bc he dared to read some webnovel to escape his own.

And seeing things from his perspective, his reaction makes so much sense. Imagine you spend all of your time thinking and planning and trying to find a way out of hell for you and your dearest people just to find out you're "responsible" for their misery. That's tough. Even if nobody ever blamed him, it's like 99% impossible that he wouldn't blame himself.

It's commonly said in the fandom that kdj doesn't understand how loved he is, but I think things go a little more deep, bc kdj is no fool (at least the "rational" part of him lmao). He saw his friends sacrifice and fight for him, he heard them say and prove how much they cared for him, and he even felt guilty about how much his repeated deaths affected them, so he's very much aware of the FACT that he is loved and wanted. What I do think is that he refuses to accept all that love bc he thinks he doesn't deserve it after everything he has done.

He thinks he has to suffer and sacrifice himself eternally to atone for his original sin, and also due to his history of trauma, he has engraved in his mindset the thought that he's meant to be alone and separated from the world, that's how it's ought to be, so when the "narrative" had to form the ideal and ultimate torture scenario for him, it was exactly that.

And maybe it's up to interpretation, and this has an explanation inside the fantasy and world building (not up to that part of the Side Story but I've seen some mild spoilers). but that final part in which the Kimcom regressed together and crossed the whole 1865 worldline just for him, while he was reading almost simultaneously what was happening, that they were coming for him, to me personally felt very bittersweet, bc as much as he wanted to go back with them, he also wanted to stay firm in his decision of keeping himself away.

And that's exactly what he did. Him breaking into millions of pieces and scattering through universes to me feels like he -once again- ran away from his happiness. At least metaphorically speaking I believe it was meant to convey that in some way.

Maybe the "magical" consequence has its own explanation, but it also happened bc kdj himself wasn't able to "dream" an ending in which he didn't need to punish and isolate himself anymore.

And that's why the last attempt to bring him back was to reach all of his fragments and show them how he was seen from his companions eyes.

There are so much themes and symbols in orv that I find myself trying to interpret every single event in as much angles as possible. It is genuinely entertaining 'cause there are so many different approaches to this specific topic that could be made.

Btw this whole rant was inspired by this Twitter thread :D go give it a read if you want!

-Sleep🌵

[suga-kookiemonster]

satisfy 06

summary⇢ “listen,” taehyung says, eyes wide and eager as he smiles at you. “i figure we can just help each other out. i scratch your back, you scratch mine.” but when you find yourself suddenly in need of a massive favor, exactly how much scratching are you willing to do? pairing⇢ seokjin/reader, namjoon/reader, taehyung/reader, …..jimin/reader word count⇢ 4.8k genre⇢ smut | escort!au | ceo!au (kinda) warnings⇢ none, really. just a few suggestive memories and oc having a crisis 👀 a/n⇢ and now, my dear friends, we finally make it to the epilogue! 🥹 thank you to everyone who has stuck with this fic over the years, and i'm extra grateful to everyone who has dropped in my inbox at any point to scream their feelings about it to me--as well as everyone who has enjoyed it enough to reblog and share! 💜💜 you guys are the ones who really keep me coming back to share my writing on this hellsite, and i truly, truly appreciate you for helping keep fandom fun and alive. i hope you've enjoyed this ride as much as i have enjoyed taking you on it! 🥰😈 mood for this chapter is this song~ thanks again, everyone! 💜

chapters⇢ previous | series masterlist

Just as they were scheduled to, your employers jetted off overseas, leaving you to your own devices for the next three weeks. You weren’t going to lie—it felt bizarre for your calendar to be so open after months of near bursting due to constant activity. But honestly? It was truly refreshing to suddenly have so much downtime. And after your last Kim encounter, you definitely felt your break was well-deserved.   

So, you used the sudden breathing room to catch up on other parts of your life that had been suffering. The next few days were spent burrowed beneath the covers and gloriously unconscious, your truly exhausted body ensuring sleep to be your first priority. Initiating the wildest sexual encounter you had ever had—and probably would ever have—on a Thursday meant that you luckily only had to miss one lecture, and you happily did so, knowing the slides would be online for you to look over later. And though you weren’t asleep the entire weekend, even when you were awake, you didn’t part with the comfort of your bed for long—eating takeout in it and watching true crime documentaries in it and actively ignoring the way your skin tingled when your mind strayed to the other activities you had done in it not too long prior. 

(And if you were being honest, it was a little hard to not linger on what you had done. On what you so easily allowed the Kims to do.) 

When you did allow yourself to linger on it, it almost felt like a fever dream. Some abstract, depraved fantasy that your overactive mind had cooked up. But the ache in your muscles, the tenderness of your pussy—these were tangible proof that it had all been real. That the flashes of hot tongues and gasping breaths and shivering pleasure that kept creeping back, no matter how you tried to distract yourself, were memories, not figments of your imagination. You knew you should probably feel some sort of shame over it, but honestly? Other than astonishment that this was what your life had become, other than the expected fatigue—

You only felt satisfied.

Satisfied that your own needs had been spectacularly met, of course, but also with the knowledge that your employers were even more satiated than you, and that you had done that. You couldn’t help but glow with a sense of pride when your doorbell rang one afternoon and you were handed a gorgeous flower arrangement, the corresponding card detailing that the unexpected, expensive gift was from Kim Seokjin. Months ago, you probably would have felt mortified to receive them—especially with the intimate knowledge of what exactly he was thanking you for—but you had earned those flowers, dammit! Earned that, as well as the absurd amount of money Namjoon unceremoniously wired you in between the texts he sent you every few days to check on you. 

You always gave your all to whatever you set out to do, and this was no different. You were a hard worker, period. No one could fault you for being pleased with the successful results of your efforts.     

So yes, you spent those next few days relaxing and recuperating and feeling rewarded. And when you finally felt enough like a human to leave your nest of pillows and blankets, you used your newfound freedom from distractions to catch up on other parts of your life you had been inadvertently ignoring—the first being your schoolwork, and the second, Jimin. 

You did a double-take when your text thread showed that the last time you had messaged him had been a week and a half ago, unbelieving. Though busy, the two of you never went that long without at least checking in, and for him to not reach out either? You couldn’t help but worry that maybe he had forgotten about you. Found someone much more interesting, someone prettier and much more available to be showered with his attention than you. 

But luckily, your slow spiraling was immediately halted when the timid Hey you sent him resulted in his bubbly, smiley face-filled reply barely a second later. 

And so now, there you were, meeting him in person for the first time in over a month.

“Sorry I’m late,” you told him as you approached the table, slightly out of breath from your hustle there. “Traffic was crazy and the Uber driver seemed afraid of driving, or something? Like, this probably isn’t the job for you if driving in the city makes you that nervous.” Because yes, when Jimin asked if you could meet him for dinner, you were surprised when he chose a spot downtown. And you were even more surprised when you finally arrived and realized that said restaurant was apparently an upscale hotspot, especially considering the meals you usually shared together consisted of nothing fancier than takeout or something you could grab from the convenience store.

He immediately stood up to wrap you in his arms, giving you a comforting squeeze that reflexively had you melting into the warmth of him before he let go. God, he smelled good. “Glad you made it in one piece,” came his amused reply, eyes twinkling as he reached over and politely pulled your chair out for you.  

You did your best to tamp down the familiar delighted butterflies that always sprung up within you when you were near him. There was something more pressing that needed to be addressed. “Jimin,” you hissed out the corner of your mouth, warily looking around. “You didn’t tell me this restaurant was so nice! I would’ve dressed up more.” Because as it was, your simple cocktail dress wasn’t really cutting it. The tables had cloth tablecloths that no doubt were removed and washed between each seating. There were multiple chandeliers sparkling from the ceiling, for fuck’s sake! Jimin had told you to wear something more on the nicer side, but he never told you this nice, and you could tell immediately that you were underdressed. You had been so excited to see him again that you just got in the car without even bothering to google the place first. 

Jimin waved a dismissive hand, visibly unbothered as he retook his own seat. For his part, he had actually taken the time to throw on a rather smart blazer over his dress shirt and slacks, his hair carefully styled and slicked back. “You look beautiful, as you always do.”

Your eyes shifted to the table, a shy but pleased smile inching across your lips. “Thank you.”

“Thank you for meeting me. I was worried you’d forgotten about me.”

You couldn’t help the incredulous snort that escaped you. “Me forget about you? No, of course not, Jiminie. I’m sorry for dropping off the face of the earth—I’ve just been so busy—”

Jimin’s raised hand halted your rambling, the gentle crinkle of his eyes calming your frazzled nerves. “Don’t worry,” he smiled. “I totally get it—I was just teasing. I could tell you had a lot going on, and so I just didn’t want to bother you. You have nothing to be sorry for.” 

Didn’t you, though? Would he feel the same way if he knew just what had been taking up all your time? You reflexively swallowed, sifting uncomfortably in your seat. “Yeah, school has been running me ragged.” And it’s not a lie. Just not the full truth.

“No kidding. I think I got seven hours of sleep total last week, so like I said, I totally get it.” Before it even registered that he was reaching for you, his hand was already enveloping yours, thumb rubbing soothing circles into your palm. “I’m just happy we have the chance to get together now. I missed you.” 

You felt yourself immediately soften into putty at his admission. “I’ve missed you too, Jimin,” came your soft reply. Dazedly, you tried your best not to visibly show how much his unexpected touch was making your heartbeat skyrocket, but from the pleased curl of his lips, you weren’t entirely sure you were successful. 

It didn’t matter, because just as easily as he had reached into your space, he was now letting go, pulling his appendage back to his side of the table to pick up his menu.  

As if waiting for a lull in your conversation, the waiter chose that moment to approach your table. “Welcome to Serendipity. Have the two of you dined with us before?”

“I haven’t,” Jimin replied, expectantly looking your way for your response and finding you scrabbling for your menu instead.

“Me neither,” you squeaked, flustered that you had been too busy making heart eyes at Jimin to even give it a cursory browse. “Is there anything you recommend?”

The waiter reached over a little to direct you a slip of paper on your table that had gone unnoticed until this moment. “You can find our current specials here—I’m a big fan of the salmon, but everything on there is excellent. And we’re actually currently running a dinner for two special, that’s been really popular. One appetizer to share, two entrées, and a dessert to share.”

Yes, it didn’t surprise you that that would be popular—along with how nice the restaurant was, you had noticed immediately when walking in that it was filled with couples who were clearly having romantic nights out.

“I think we’re still deciding on food.” Jimin’s voice cut through your thoughts. “But can we please see a wine list?”

Wine? Your brow raised, not opposed, but surprised. In all the time you’ve known each other, alcohol has certainly never been a stranger—you’ve had late night study sessions together, accompanied by chicken and beer; you’ve gotten shitfaced together at bars after particularly rough exams. But something about this felt…different. In this restaurant, much fancier than you anticipated, surrounded by couples, sitting across a candlelit table from where Jimin was poring over a wine selection that you knew had to be really expensive—this was undoubtedly more intimate.  

You idly cleared your throat, not daring to linger too long on the dots your mind couldn’t help but connect. Because it obviously couldn’t be that. It had to be a coincidence.

“_____,” Jimin said, the slight raise in his voice cluing you in that this wasn’t the first time he had tried to get your attention. “How does this one sound?” 

You blinked our of your thoughts, finding both him and the waiter looking at you expectantly. “Whatever you choose is fine!” you croaked, slapping on a smile for good measure.    

“Excellent choice. I’ll bring it right out,” the waiter said with an affirmative tilt of his head, and then the two of you were alone again. 

It was quiet for a bit while you both properly perused your menus, though from the corner of your eye, the curious glances Jimin was sending you didn’t escape your notice. You were acting weird. You were acting weird and he could clearly tell you were acting weird, but ever since you noticed the restaurant’s romantic atmosphere, you couldn’t help it.

“These prices are kinda wild, huh?” came your attempt at normal conversation.

Jimin took it in stride, lips curling in amusement. “Yeah, they’re definitely overcharging for those stuffed mushrooms. But don’t worry about it—I invited you out, so this is my treat.”

You shook your head immediately. “No, no, I can’t let you do that! I was just making a comment. Don’t worry, I have enough money to pay.”

He let out a bemused sigh, shaking his head, and if you didn’t happen to be looking directly at him, you might have missed him say under his breath, “You’re not gonna make this date easy for me, huh?”

You immediately choked on your own spit, eyes bugging at what you thought you heard. “D-Date?” you repeated incredulously.

Jimin’s spine went stiff, eyes widening as if he hadn’t meant to say that out loud. You could only watch in amazement as it was his turn to look shy, pointedly averting his gaze to his menu and letting out a chuckle that sounded suspiciously nervous to your bemused ears. When you continued to gape at him, waiting for some sort of explanation, he was forced to continue.

“Yeah,” he hedged cautiously. “That’s what I’d hoped. Would that be a bad thing?”

You couldn’t answer right away, staring him down like he had grown two heads and wondering when he was going to burst out laughing with a Gotcha! You should have seen your face.  

Always one for great timing, the waiter chose that moment to come back with your wine, taking his sweet time pouring it into each of your glasses and cheerfully chatting about the region it came from. You didn’t hear a single word, too focused on the way Jimin studiously avoided your stare, on the noticeable flush that had risen up his neck and was fanning across his cheeks. It was only after you apologetically asked for more time for your meal orders—your mind too frazzled to pick something on the spot—that he left again. Jimin took a long swig from his wineglass.

“Sorry,” he murmured, still not looking at you. “I probably should have let you know my intention beforehand, but I was nervous you wouldn’t come, or I’d chicken out of doing it, or—”

“Your intention?” you parroted dazedly. 

Another generous swallow of wine, the liquid courage coaxing his eyes to meet yours. “I wanted to take you out somewhere really nice,” he admitted. “Show you a good time and work up the nerve to properly ask you out again.”

“On a. Date?” Your lashes fluttered, an involuntary response to your brain short-circuiting. “With me.”

His lips twitched. “Yes, with you, silly.”

“Why?”

“You’re really going to make me say it? Before our food gets here?” He was fiddling with his napkin, but despite his clear nervousness, his gaze was now unwavering and his voice was clear. “Because I like you, _____. I have for a long time.”

These were words that you had only heard him whisper in your wildest dreams, when your subconscious thoughts were no longer being restrained by your common sense. And as such, you could only gape at him, sure you were about to wake up any second.

Your unintentional silence triggered Jimin’s tongue into overdrive, and you could only struggle to make sense of his rambling as he proceeded to tell you how much your friendship meant to him and how he was afraid confessing how he felt would affect it, but he just couldn’t take it anymore. How his feelings for you were growing by the day, and the recent time spent away from you was maddening and only confirmed to him how much he wanted to be with you. And so he felt he had to at least put it out there and try.

And the longer he talked, the more your eyes welled up with horrified tears, panic gripping you by the throat and squeezing, tight, tight.

This was nothing short of a nightmare. 

You would have never agreed to your arrangement with the Kims if you had thought in a million years Jimin would have ever been a serious option for you. 

Absolutely not. You would have swallowed your pride, maybe taken that loan from Tae instead. Would have also taken as many odd jobs as you could to pay him back, would have forgone sleep completely and struggled ten times more than you were now just so you could pay off your debts. Hell, you would have even just fucking dropped out. Would have taken the semester off and attempted to come back whenever you could scrounge up the appropriate funds. 

But never, never ever, would you have done what you had done. 

Because now, not only were you contractually unable to be with the man you’ve—in an attempt at self-preservation—refused to acknowledge you were in love with, but even if you found some legal way to quit now…there was zero chance Jimin would still want you when he knew. Less than zero. And you couldn’t blame him for that, because who would?

Beyond overwhelmed, you did the only sensible thing you could in that moment—you burst into tears.

Your sudden sniveling immediately halted Jimin’s rambling, eyes wide in alarm and looking every bit as distressed as you. “Ah—don’t cry!” He leaned over the table, cradling your face in his hands and swiping your tears with his thumbs. “You don’t have to feel the same way, _____. I’ll get over it, please don’t cry—”

“No,” you blubbered, beyond miserable. He couldn’t be more wrong. “I do! Jimin, I feel exactly the same way, I just…” Your eyes welled up anew, unable to tell him the truth. “I c-can’t.” 

“You can’t?” he repeated, eyebrows furrowing in confusion. His eyes roved your face for any possible answers, nibbling slightly on his bottom lip in thought. “…Is this…” His thumbs were still caressing your cheeks, gaze gentle and open as he quickly glanced around to see if anyone was paying the two of you any attention. When it was clear no one was giving your table more than a few curious glances, he said quieter, “…Is this about the arrangement you have with Tae?”

Everything froze. Your eyes locked, Jimin patiently waiting for your reply. Hysteria trickled through your veins, held only a bay by the disbelief slamming into you harder than a freight train. “W-What arrangement?” you blurted reflexively, a touch too loudly to be believable. 

It was Jimin’s turn be caught off guard, hands slowly dropping from your face and returning to his side of the table, though he was still leaned over it so he could still whisper to you, “You know.” He looked at you pointedly, mouth downturning a bit in his confusion. “With him and his brothers. The arrangement.” 

Jesus Christ, this was not happening. There was no way that this was actually happening to you. There was no way that the man who unknowingly held your heart in the palm of his hand was fully aware that you were fucking his best friend for money. Deny, deny! “I’m not sure I know what you mean.”

He didn’t say anything for a few moments, still visibly puzzled. But the two of you only sat in an awkward silence for a few more moments before he snapped his fingers, a light bulb clearly going off. “Ah! You can’t say anything because you signed an NDA, right?” 

You swallowed thickly, unable do anything more in that very moment than stupidly stare at him like a deer in the headlights. 

“I’m sorry, that was stupid of me,” Jimin chuckled, smacking his forehead for good measure. “I don’t know why I didn’t realize that sooner. Obviously you’re under NDA.” 

You weren’t sure how to respond to that. Weren’t sure from the gentle smile he was now sending you if he even expected a response from you. Luckily, Jimin kept talking. 

“But it’s okay—I already know everything, so you don’t have to hide it,” he reassured you. You didn’t feel assured. You felt like you were in the Twilight Zone. “Taehyung told me about your agreement when you started it months ago.”

If you were flustered before, that was nothing on what you were feeling now. Now, half-thoughts were ricocheting across your brain too quickly for you to grasp anything of substance but your internal screeching. “You know everything?” you repeated incredulously. This time it was you who leaned over the table, meeting him in the middle. “Taehyung told you?!”

“Of course he did!” Color rebloomed across his cheeks, but he didn’t shy away from the bewildered stare down you were giving him. “He’s my best friend and he wanted to make sure he wouldn’t be stepping on any toes. He…knows how I feel about you.” When you only continued to stare at him, he nervously added, “Who do you think got me the reservation for this place to begin with? The waitlist is literally a year out.”

“I’m sorry, I just—” You pulled back so you could reach for your wineglass, allowing yourself a few healthy sips to give your mouth something to do other than flap about like an idiot while you stalled. Jimin didn’t call you out on it, just waited patiently and topped off your glass when you set it back down again. 

You took a few steadying breaths, ultimately choosing to lean back closer to Jimin. To the casual onlooker, the two of you were just another couple making heart eyes over a romantic dinner. And considering the rather lewd and illegal turn your conversation had just taken in this very public place, that only worked in your favor. “Let me get this straight,” you whispered, carefully choosing your words in case you still managed to garner an unwanted audience. “Taehyung told you the deal he has with me. Months ago.” Jimin nodded. “And you’ve known this entire time about our…arrangement, but never told me you knew.”

“I swear I didn’t at all mean to keep that a secret,” he murmured, expression contrite. “I just didn’t want to make you uncomfortable or embarrass you or anything like that, so I’ve just been waiting on you to bring it up at your own pace. But I didn’t take into account that you would never bring it up because you would be under NDA, which, again, now that I say it out loud was an extremely stupid assumption of me not to make. I’m sorry.”

“So. You have feelings for me,” you reiterated, ignoring the delighted shiver that raced up your spine at the words. You had to be sure. “But it didn’t bother you that your best friend…propositioned me? You have no problem with me being…involved with him and his brothers?”

“You were caught between a rock and a hard place and the grind never stops. You know I know that better than anybody,” he replied with a shrug. He swallowed, discreetly ensuring no one was paying the two of you any attention before he added, “You think you’re the only one who’s sucked dick for money?”

Your eyes widened, jaw dropping a little before you could catch it. Was he…implying what you thought he was implying? There was no way. You had to be reading into it. 

But ultimately, all of this was irrelevant. When the ghost of Seokjin’s mouth on you came to you unbidden—the phantom weight of Taehyung’s body, the haunting reprimand of Namjoon’s stern hand—

You shook your head, unsuccessfully dispelling those unwanted, lingering thoughts. Your gaze skirted to the table, despondent and embarrassed as you finally set free your hushed admission. “Jimin, I’ve done more than suck dick for my money.” 

There was a pause, an agonizing one that felt like an eternity, and then he was lifting your chin with a finger and guiding you to meet his eyes.

“Again.” He reached for your hands, thumb tracing patterns over your knuckles. His smile was a soft secret. “You think you’re the only one?” 

He held your gaze, not looking away even though your mouth just flapped uselessly as you struggled to regain your bearings. So he did mean—

“Does knowing that bother you?” Jimin asked quietly, expression now carefully neutral. Seriously asking, and giving you the proper space to process and answer. “Does it change anything?”

“No.” The truth, though delayed, left you as easily as a breath. He was still Jimin. “Of course not.”

Jimin’s resulting grin turned his eyes into crescents. “Soooo…what I’m hearing is that we’re clearly on the same page and are both Team Fuck Bitches, Get Money.” 

Boy, did you wish you could smile back. Wish you could share in his obvious relief. But while you assumed his exploits were in the past, the same couldn’t be said for you, who was actively under contract. “Jimin, I’m still…employed,” you couldn’t help but point out. “And still will be for a while. That really doesn’t bother you?”

“It really doesn’t,” he insisted. But your continued hesitance had him pulling back from you, hands busying themselves with reaching for his wineglass as he carefully asked, “Should it? Is there something else I should know?” A couple sips of wine to steel himself before a  cautious, “Do you have feelings for any of them?”

“No!” you blurted. Despite the amount of time and intimacy you had been spending with the Kims, romantic feelings had never even crossed your mind. Your pussy certainly felt some things when she was getting some action, but your heart had never gotten involved. Your heart was too busy crowding in your throat at that very moment, threatening to fling itself at the man in front of you.

Jimin took your sincerity for what it was, a pleased twist to his lips. “Then it’s all fine with me. And again, Tae’s been aware from the beginning that I’ve been intending to ask you out, so that expectation has been there since the beginning. All three of them agreed to the deal knowing that I might be in the picture if I ever decided to put my big boy pants on and tell you how I feel. They’ve been expecting it, so they’re cool with it.”

“They’re cool with it,” you parroted blankly, completely flabbergasted. This was absolutely not how you foresaw this night going, and you never would have thought your life would ever take a turn like this in a million years. “They’re cool with it, and so are you?”

“I don’t mind sharing your time,” he shrugged. “So long as I’m not sharing you.”

“And you don’t see that as the same thing in this…situation?” you asked incredulously. “That doesn’t seem fair.”

Jimin puffed out an amused laugh. “Wow, you really are trying to talk me out of this, huh?”

You waved your hands. “Absolutely not, that is the last thing I want! I just. I come with a lot of baggage, and I don’t want any of it to come as a surprise. As busy as I’ve been the last couple weeks? That’s becoming a reoccurring normal. And Jimin, I just feel really shitty.” You swallowed. “Because I can’t promise you everything that you deserve to be promised right now.”

Jimin’s face softened as he listened to you, visibly much more comfortable now that you had successfully reassured him just how badly you wanted this. And oh, did you want it. You weren’t sure how this could ever work, but god did you want it to.

“Not fair,” he repeated under his breath, eyes glazed over in thought. “Hmmm.” 

“Is there anything I could do?” you hedged. You weren’t really sure what that could possibly be, considering the ironclad situation you were in. But now that you had been given a glimmer of your heart’s desire, you couldn’t let it fade away. Not if you could help it.  

His reply wasn’t immediate, still lost in thought. But when his eyes finally refocused on you, smoldering and intense, you couldn’t help the way your breath caught in response, the way your heart quickened. “Here’s an idea of what we can do to make it fair. What if you continue to work for them, just as you are now. And then…” 

He was thoughtlessly swirling his wineglass, momentum pulling the ruby liquid into slow, circling waves that would be rather hypnotizing if you weren’t already caught in the snare of his gaze. When he leaned across the table again, the way you followed suit was as easy as breathing. A lovesick sailor willingly lured to possible danger by a siren’s song. “Whatever you do for them, you do for me. How does that sound?” 

You let out a soft breath, just the thought of it immediately electrifying your every atom. Sparks danced excitedly beneath your skin, his soft, sultry tone curling your toes in their shoes. 

“Fair.”

His Adam’s apple dipped excitedly, lips parting.

“So sorry to interrupt,” someone suddenly said from beside you. It was the waiter again. You had completely forgotten about him. Completely forgotten everything other than the restless tap of Jimin’s fingers against the table. “I just wanted to check in to see if you were ready to order?” 

“Yes, I think so.” You didn’t look away from Jimin—still hadn’t even glanced at the menu. Your tongue swiped over your lips, and his gaze darkened in response. 

“But I think we’d like it to go.”

chapters⇢ previous | series masterlist

[macchami]

I think it’s a really important point of the story, that kim dokja is just an average guy who went through a ‘common’ tragedy and not something written to be so overly tragic and miserable in order to gain the audience symphaty. His tragedy made him terribly lonely which is also something so common and relatable to most of us. The only difference is how that loneliness affects you as an individual and only you would know it. And we know damn well how loneliness affects kim dokja right? and you know what accompanied him in those time? STORY ! YES! Because within a story, you might find a character you relate to, a character who will inspire you to keep going and not give up, and how that alone is enough to make you less lonely.

Kim dokja has this tendency to neglect himself because of how little he thinks of his suffering, because ‘other people had it worse’, ‘other people also went through this and they’re fine so why can’t i?’. Because his tragedy is something that has nothing special about it since it’s so common, so why would anyone talk about it like it’s bizzare or special or something out of this world? but then we see that kim dokja is so loved by most characters in the novel. We even found out at the end of the novel that both TWSA and ORV is written SOLELY FOR HIM because there was someone who decided that his small story is worth looking into, and this small story deserves to be loved. That someone spent 13 years of her life dedicated to her only reader, carved out a character out of her love to accompany the lonely child, just so he wouldnt feel lonely, just so he can survive another day. All these merely for the so ‘common’ tragedy of kim dokja. Do you realize how impactful that is? Like it’s telling you, something might seems small to you, to the point you wouldnt care about yourself, to the point you feel undeserving and unworthy, but STILL you are deserved to be loved. I think it’s beautiful and this narrative wouldn’t have worked unless kim dokja is made to be an average guy. This book is telling you to love yourself because at the end of the day, we might be as average as kim dokja is.

So just in case anyone finds kim dokja’s backstory to be ‘basic’, well that’s the point actually.

[nanaskzz]

ⵌ 𝗂𝗇𝖿𝗈𝗋𝗆𝖺𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇𝗌 _ where he comforts you in a difficult

time for you, proving to be a good companion.

ⵌ 𝗉𝖺𝗂𝗋𝗂𝗇𝗀𝗌 _ ot8! x fem!reader.

ⵌ 𝗀𝖾𝗇𝗋𝖾 _ Comfort, fluff, angst, established

relationship, moments of comfort with Skz.

ⵌ 𝗐𝖺𝗋𝗇𝗂𝗇𝗀𝗌 _ possible trigger for some readers,

a little sad but cute if you squint, crises, anxiety, insecurity, mention of some swearing (nothing too serious).

BANG CHAN

HUGS AT A DISTANCE ─── your day really wasn't the best and not having Bang Chan around made everything more frustrating, but he shows you that not even distance would make him forget you.

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

LEE KNOW

NOW I'M HERE ─── An unexpected visit from your father triggers a crisis in you, but Minho, who was always attentive to the daddy issues you had, was there to comfort you.

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

SEO CHANGBIN

REST ─── you feel insecure about your relationship, reflecting on whether you deserve love or not; But the game changes when Changbin is the one who really needs you.

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

HWANG HYUNJIN

DO I REALLY DESERVE IT? ─── you find yourself internalizing bad words that were thrown by your fake friends and Hyunjin couldn't stand by and watch his girlfriend suffer like this.

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

HAN JISUNG

ALONE AT HOUSE, WITHOUT MY HOME ─── Jisung was always very busy and you understood him well, but your heart couldn't help but feel tight when the feeling of abandonment invaded you.

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

LEE FELIX

DAWN ─── Felix has always shown himself to be the most perfect boyfriend, and he proves himself even more so by comforting you in an existential crisis during the night.

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

KIM SEUNGMIN

END IT ─── her job was always incredibly exhausting and having a harassing boss wasn't helping at all, but Seungmin was there to defend her.

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

YANG JEONGIN

GOOD CHOICES ─── After a lot of planning, the day has finally arrived for you to meet his family, but the anxiety that explodes in your chest makes you question whether you are the right choice for him.

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

[xenizaation]

permanent

pairing: fem! reader x choi san (ft kim hongjoong)

genre: angst, friends to lovers, smut

general warnings: depictions of a depressive state, mourning of partner, self-blame and slight ptsd

sexual warnings: dirty talk, pet names, manual stimulation, oral sex (f receiving), unprotected sex, creampie,

word count: 12.6k

summary: they say moving on is hard. you find that it's even harder when in the process of it, you have to accept your feelings for your friend as well.

less important a/n: ok so this was supposed to be like 5k long 🙃🙃...chile, anyways. uhm, this came from me bottling my emotions up for the last 5 months and I just wanted to let some of my suffering out in some kind of way. even if it is far from what I feel (I feel the need to specify that the events related below aren't inspired from my life, happily so). read at your own discretion, for I have tried my best to make you feel horny and miserable at the same time 🥰🥰🥰 stay safe xoxo

a/n from long later: hi i wrote this about a year ago and i found it in my drafts and hey why wouldn't i post it after not posting something in ages? haha. enjoy! altough it's probably rlly bad and full of mistakes hihi, i ain't reading this again to correct it. i love you muah

______________________________________________________

The cold air felt like needles poking at your bare skin. You ran as fast as you could, barefoot in the woods, feeling every little scratch that was tearing open the skin of your soles and staining it with fresh blood. Your lungs were holding hostage a fire as you were inhaling the cold night air, and the sweat you felt dribbling down your face and back was only of help to make you feel even colder. You looked behind, once, twice, and then a third time too, slowly reducing your pace until it came to a halt.

"What am I running away from?" you ask yourself looking around. There was nothing, no one after you. So why were you running for your life? Your heart starts to beat faster as you hear screams coming from deep within the trees. But you don't run. You can't run anymore. You just fall to the ground, embracing your knees to your chest.

"Me!"

You don't turn around. That voice is way too familiar to make you turn around. Your mouth hangs open as you try to scream but no sound comes out as your muffled moans remain drowned in the deepest point if your throat.

You gasp for air as you wake up shaking your head relentlessly, in order to try to snap yourself back to the reality you're in- so your heart would stop beating so damn fast. You groan as you look over at the watch on your nightstand and see it spell 3:37 AM. You grab your phone from next to it and shut your eyes closed at the sudden brightness the screen displays. You manage to decrease it and open your contacts.

"Still awake?" you ask, and you know you shouldn't. He always offers you more than you can give back, more than you deserve. But you can't help yourself. You cannot deny yourself the little peace you still have in your life.

"Yeah, wassup?"

"Can you call?" you hit send and it's a matter of seconds between him receiving the message, him reading the message and then his name popping up on your screen. You answer.

"Again?" San questions from the other end of the phone. You only hum in affirmation. He sighs softly as you lay down on your side, phone trapped between your ear and the pillow. You hear the clicking of the keyboard and mouse clearly, he must be working late again. And yet he always answers. More than many people you've met did for you.

"Tell me a story." you ask once again. For the...well you've lost count.

"You know, one day I'm going to be out of stories," he answers and lets out a chuckle. Bathing in your silence, he takes his time to think about what he could tell you. As he begins, you close your eyes and imagine whatever he is helping you picture inside your head. Be it the times when he was a little kid and used to walk with his grandparents down the side of a river, or the times he was a teen and was always struggling to get out of trouble, San always gave you a vast amount of details that made you worship his each and every story. And they always made you dream something pretty when you dozed out of consciousness with him still talking on the other end. This night was no exception, so when you wake up, you send him a text that expresses your gratitude as always.

"Listen, if you still want a contract renewal you need to publish something within next year," you look at your boss and feel every word he lays out weighing your body down like you're going to fall through the floor. "I get writer's block, I really do. And we gave you time. You took your time. But it's been almost two years now..." his words stop reaching your ears as you're reminded. One year, ten months and twelve days. And still counting. The count will never stop, you realize, as the event it started from cannot be reversed. You will always be stuck in a period of time since it happened.

"You're one of the biggest names here in our publishing house, Y/N. We don't want to lose you but at the same time we can't keep focusing on you if it will be to no avail." he is right. He is always right, your boss. Always had a strategic mindset, and that always helped both of you. Except now. Now he was asking for something you couldn't offer.

"I'm sorry," you manage to blurt out. "I'm trying my best and I know it's not enough." if you had to be honest, hearing yourself say those words out loud made your heart break even more that it already was. Partly because it was true, and the rest? Because it sounded like you were asking for compassion, which you thought was pathetic. You never liked people looking at you the way you caught yourself looking at homeless individuals.

"I'm gonna get something out, ok? I promise you, just please have a little more faith in me. I need you to trust me to be able to do this."

You look up and make eye contact with him. Park Seonghwa was never one who showed compassion. But as his gaze traced over your fingers picking at your cuticles, the dryness of your lips and the shadows of your hollowed eyes, you felt something you grew too accustomed with in the last almost two years of your life.

Pity.

"Come on, let me take you out on Thursday." San pleaded as he was following in your steps down the hallway of the company you worked in. You didn't expect your little trip to talk to your boss would end with this. "You literally have nothing to lose." He completed and you stopped, facing him. You met his familiar and comforting eyes, which always reminded you of a cute fox, and his dimpled smile as he watched you keenly. It has been almost four years since he started working at the same company you did, but since the beginning, you two were more than just work colleagues. It was the type of connection where you would understand each other from simple looks into the other's eyes or where you could easily finish each other's sentences. You liked to consider him your platonic soulmate but you knew that if you hadn't had a relationship at the time you two met, you would've have surely gone out together and maybe made a good couple.

Well...now you didn't have a relationship anymore but you weren't exactly in the right headspace for one.

By now, you and all the rest of your workmates knew how big of a crush he had on you, but you never let it get out of control. You were feeling kind of guilty, to be honest. Knowing that in a way, you were using it to your advantage for your sleepless nights or the ones in which sleep was ruined by nightmares. But you were sure he was getting his benefits from it as well.

"Look, I want to but I really don't wanna be a bitch to you if I suddenly feel like shit." you reply, and in all honestly, it was true. Your mood hasn't been so stable lately, understandably so.

"Well, how about this: if you wake up in a good mood on Thursday and decide it's okay to hang out, you text me, and we do whatever you feel comfortable with. And if we do go out and do something together and you end up feeling like shit then you'll tell me and I'll get you home in the fastest way possible for a human being. How does it sound?"

Not bad. He is giving you every little piece of comfort that you knew you needed but you never asked for. So you agree. It wouldn't be the first time you hang out with San, sure, you never called them dates, because to you they were not. But you knew that for any outsider it looked exactly like that. And who is to blame? You two always worked hand in hand just so well. These no-pressure type of meet-ups you two had always made you feel comfortable so that was why you were considering it this time as well.

Days pass and you spend them stuck in your home, drowning in your bitter memories and your regrets. The taste of guilt never becomes sweet, you think. Not like how alcohol does when you drink more and more of the same kind. No. Guilt only grows in bitterness and in how it burns down your throat, feeling like it swirls all of your insides once it reaches your stomach. In a way, guilt feels like the long estranged sister of love. Both let their essence hover in your mind for however long they like.

As you rise from your bed to make some hot coffee you think of what day it is. Between the mix of reliving the moments long gone in the same apartment you still stand, and the countless intents to come up with something that you could present to your boss, you didn't know which one made you lose track of time more. You checked your phone for a bit of clarity. No new messages or notifications. At this point, everyone knew better than to bother you with their worries.

Thursday.

Well, seems like you had to cancel out on someone, you thought as you tried grabbing the coffee pot on the stove, but lost in your thoughts, you pay no attention to the handle and drop the pot on the kitchen tiled floor as soon as you feel the skin on your palm burn. You swore and quickly took a few steps back so the burning coffee on the ground wouldn't get to your bare feet. You shook your hand trying to get a cold breeze to the inflamed skin but it only made it feel worse. As you stopped to look at the damage you realized it wasn't all that bad, but it sure stung like a motherfucker. You ran your hand under the cold water of the sink and looked to your right. The brown liquid on the ground was expanding, getting in every little crevice in between the tiles.

****

Coffee was getting everywhere. It splashed on the kitchen counters, it was slowly getting under them too. You froze for a few seconds after your mug made contact with the floor, shattering to dozens of pieces.

"Well, that can't be a good sign." your lover said from behind you finishing with a low chuckle. You smiled, turning on your heels and taking in his form. You woke him up, well, the mug woke him up actually. Approaching you slowly, with a slight limp in his walk and his shoulders dropped all the way down, his hair was fluffed up and his skin a nice shade of pale with a few lines from the pillow on his left cheek. He always looked so angelic, you never could put it into words, how it made you feel, seeing him first thing in the morning. It was something that made your insides crazily stir up but made gave you a sense of tranquility, at the same time. That was how loving him usually was. Two opposite sides walking hand in hand. He grabbed you by the waist and pulled you closer to him, softly pressing his lips against the crown of your head. You joined your hands behind his torso and inhaled deeply. Your heart skipped a beat as your lungs felt intoxicated with his smell.

"Today is the big day, huh?" his voice was still hoarse as he spoke, every word of his drumming in your ears. You nodded.

"I'm really nervous." you answered and let your forehead drop against his shoulder. He hugged you tighter with the hand around your waist and gently pat your head with the other.

"I know, angel. But it's gonna be alright, ok? Your friends will be there, your parents will be there and I will be there. You can lean on me." he said kissing your cheek. "You know that, don't you?" his face right in front of yours, you responded with nothing more than a slow kiss. A kiss that was rehearsed so many times before that your lips and tongues already knew what they had to do, how they had to move around each other. Sometimes it felt like a dream, how everything came so easy with Hongjoong. How you didn't have to think twice about what you wanted from him and with him. And for all you knew, and all he had shown you across the time spent together, he didn't do that either. Every morning next to him felt like the luckiest one, and every night with him ended just the same. And you knew that if you were to live a hundred more years alongside him, you still wouldn't get enough of his embraces, or kisses or just simply him. There was nothing in the world that could cure the insatiable love you felt for the man in front of you.

As he pulled away from the kiss he gestured with his head behind you. "Now how about I clean the mess you made, and you make coffee for both of us? We have a book launch to attend, after all." you laughed and kissed him again.

*****

As your breath got heavier and your eyes started to burn up you unconsciously took your phone from the kitchen counter.

"a picnic would be perfect" you text your friend. The desire to get out of the prison your house has become, growing bigger by the second.

"Tell me if this isn't an appropriate question," you heard the man next to you say, derailing your train of thought as you directed your attention towards him. The weather is hot today, it really was a good call, suggesting a picnic. You haven't been on one in a long while and you missed feeling of how the calm of the nature overwhelmed most of your senses. Also, you couldn't handle a complicated social situation on this day. So it was perfect right now, laying on a blanket, stranded in a flower freckled field with none other than San. You turn your head towards him. " What made you want to go out today?" he completed, not looking at you. He was laying on his back, with one arm under his head and his eyes closed, as if he feared the reaction you were going to have to his words. You didn't blame him for asking. In a similar situation where the roles would be reversed, you knew for sure you would ask too. After all, you and San were made of many of the same things. " Don't get me wrong, I'm happy you agreed, but it didn't seem like you would." he adds.

"Some days my house feels like a torture chamber." you say turning on your side and facing him, supporting your head on your angled arm. He was so still, you could barely even notice the way he slowly breathed in and out. It was as if the sun was painting his portrait and he was afraid to move, to not mess it up. Every ray that was falling on his exposed skin seemed to caress him the way a lover does.

"And some days it does its job." you completed after returning on your position on your back, mimicking his. "Today just didn't felt like one of the days I'd like to be tortured." you finished and felt his gaze on you right before you closed your eyes. If you thought he seemed worried, you made sure not to address it.

"One time when I was little, I was playing with a friend of mine," you smiled, realizing this is just the beginning of one of his captivating stories. "I don't remember how we got to that point, but he left me in a room and said he was gonna lock me there, and so he got out and he did." a bit darker than what he usually tells you, but still intriguing.

"At first I thought it was fun, that we would take turns locking each other in the room but he wasn't coming back. The room had only one window but it was locked when I tried to open it and get out. So I just waited. I think hours passed, it was getting dark and I was getting worried and hungry, thought I'll be stuck there forever, until it crossed my mind. I never even tried to open the door. Turns out it didn't even have a keyhole."

"San, if you're trying to put me to sleep with this one, just know it doesn't really work." you say smirking, still holding your eyes closed as you let the sun bathe your face.

"I'm not, Y/N. I'm trying to tell you that most of the times, the doors aren't locked. We just think that they are." he responds and you open your eyes to look into his. His look is full of compassion, and a bit of sadness that you choose to overlook. You finally understand what he means to tell you and you realize he is right. But even if a door isn't locked, you shouldn't open it unless you're ready to do so. You gently touch the back of his hand, and he is quick to caress your fingers with his thumb, changing his focus to where your hands are joined.

"Thank you," your words came out more like a whisper than you would've liked. "I know I don't do much for you...but I'm hoping I'm not that much of a nuisance, like I feel I am." he turns his hand, joining his fingers with yours and making eye contact with you. The simple gesture of affection made your head dizzy in a way you haven't felt in a long time. Your heart creaks up a little.

"You couldn't be one even if you tried," he said, his gaze lazily tracing the outlines of your face. You were the most beautiful thing he's ever seen in his life, even now. Even after all the hardships you've been through, and that you're still going through. The adoration his heart held for you never stopped burning, no matter how much he wished for it to do so. For San, loving you was as easy as it sounded and as hard as it could get. Setting his eyes on the bags under your eyes he recalled a memory that stood like a scar on his brain. Your eyes were so dark that day, your eye bags a shade of purple he hadn't seen on any painting quite yet. Your lips were pale and chapped and your skin looked like it lost all its pigment.

Black didn't suit you so well, he thought. Not when it was worn the way you were wearing it then.

But the worst came when it was time to say goodbye. He still remembered your cries and wails and it made the skin on his spine tremble in its place. Could he ever forget how, on that day, you looked like the angel of death?

Now you looked better...like life was coming, little by little, back into your body, and the pure sunlight was definitely helping it. He should let the sun see you more often, he thought.

You pulled your hand from his when you felt like his eyes were analyzing your features for a bit too long. Rising in a standing position, you started examine the insides of the basket he prepared.

"Oh my God! You brought me watermelon!" you shouted loudly as you took the container holding the red pieces of fruit in it. The only thing San could do at your reaction was laugh, throwing his head back to look at the puffed up white clouds.

Four days since you brushed your teeth, three since you showered, two since you changed your clothes, one since you ate, and one year, eleven months and fourteen days since you've last held the love of your life in your arms. But, hey, who's keeping count anyways?

Time loses all its meaning when you confine yourself like you are some dangerous animal meant to be locked up in a cage. Between the moments you try to stay awake and the ones you try to sleep, you have little to remember. The only thing that gives a little light to the fog in your brain is San. His stories in the middle of the night, conversations you happen to have during the day and occasional meetings that you're always the one to initiate. He always makes you feel good, always picks the right words to say and you don't know how he has the patience for such things. You love and hate him for it. You love him for being such a considerate and kind person, and you hate him for making you forget. It's strange when you get home and reality dumps on you at the front door. The reality you actually live in and not one you indulged yourself to have with San for a few hours. It's just...with him everything is colorful and melodic but when you get home the only thing you hear are your sighs echoing off the walls back into your ears. You wished you could be stuck in the feeling you have around him forever, but at the same time, every time you have that feeling you feel guilty for it. Like it's impossible to allow yourself any sort of break.

The last days have been impossible to get through. All you did was look around at the mess that was around you. A mountain of clothes, waiting to be washed for weeks now, a sink full of dishes and mugs, lots of crumpled sheets on the ground ( proof of all your tries to put something together). Everything was a disaster, inside and out. You had no willpower to do anything about it but you knew that the more you would stay in a shitty space, the more you would feel like shit. So for the first time in months, you opened the window.

*****

He placed the two mugs on the windowsill as he opened the window, allowing the cold breeze of the morning to brush over the exposed skin. He watched you closely as you made sure to turn off the stove and place the coffee pot in the sink. Your eyes met his as you felt the cold air run down your back, giving you shivers. He smiled contentedly at the sight of your body slowly shuddering. The "window" habit was a thing Hongjoong let into the relationship since the beginning of it. It was crazy for you how sometimes you caught him doing it first thing after waking up. You loved to watch him open the window and inhale the morning air with his elbows pressed against the wooden frame. Those moments wouldn't last long, but you treasured them more than he maybe thought about it. There was a thing about this domestic life, and seeing him do his own rituals that had you turn into quite the observer.

"You love to make me cold, don't you?" you smile brightly getting closer and closer, until you reach the space right in front of him.

"Angel, you're so hot in the morning that I'm afraid you might overheat. I need to cool you down a little, don't I?" he says on his usual cheeky tone, the one you grew to love in such little time. As he places his hand on your hip, you take a sip of your coffee. Like your actions served as a reminder of the hot liquid resting in his mug, he does the same.

"I can think of some other ways you could cool me down..." you say as you hook your finger on the front waistband of his pajama pants, sliding it from left to right. He chuckles in his mug and pulls you closer. Your chests rise in unison as you look each other in the eye, you don't say anything but this moment feels like a promise neither of you wants to break.

He looks to his left, at the city and at the people. Taking advantage of the opportunity, you place a few slow kisses on his jaw.

"I want us to find a new place," he says scooping you up as you squeal in surprise. You hook your legs behind his waist instantly while he walks towards the bedroom. "I want a balcony." He completes before kissing you and you laugh into the kiss, thinking of the many ways you two could make use of said balcony. He sure was thinking the same thing you did, giving how he started laughing as well.

His laugh was the only thing you ever wanted to hear again.

*****

You look down at the windowsill and see the brown marks in the body of two circles imprinted on the wooden surface. You always told him to use the damn coasters. Now the wood was stained. Permanently stained. Permanently ruined. Just like you were.

As you get on with cleaning you try to keep your brain busy with thoughts like what you should do after you finish a task, and what you should do after that one is finished as well. You thank yourself for choosing to clean, as you get out of the shower and throw yourself into the bed. Not only does it now smell like flowers, but you're also tired enough for sleep to steal you the minute you close your eyes.

"Ha! Check mate!" San exclaimed from the other side of the table you both were sat at. This was an odd activity that you had never done before. Playing chess, in a park, fully exposed to the summer sun. And you weren't even middle aged. Crazy to see how far the desperation to get out of the house will make someone go. But if it was with San, you were sure that there weren't many place where you wouldn't go.

"Your mind seems to be elsewhere," he said, angling his head innocently like the little puppies do when you tell them not to lick the outlet. His black hair was swooped out of his face, making his cheekbones pop out in a way you didn't think it was more humanly possible.

"Oh, you know damn well I suck at chess, San." you said kicking his queen with your finger. It became clear to him that you were an unfit partner for this game after like, the half of the first match. As the piece made contact with the chessboard, San tittered, making his eyes turn into crescents and his dimples scar his cheeks again.

"You just don't want to learn," he said as he started picking the pawns. You gave him a hand, collecting all the pieces on your side.

"You play the pawns when you still have the queen..." he offered a dramatic sigh as he clicked his tongue on the roof of his mouth. True, it was more comfortable to lose with the pawns than with the queen.

"How's the book going?" placing the game of chess in his backpack, he made eye contact with you as he pressed his elbows against the surface in between. You sigh.

"It's not," you admit thinking about all the documents you've erased the last month or every manuscript you tossed in the trash. Nothing was coming together and you hated every word after writing it. Not only was this process driving you mad but it also made you doubt all your abilities as a writer. People would expect more from someone who had a bestseller out there, you thought. But it wasn't your job to rise to anyone's expectation.

"Maybe I was just a one hit wonder." you say smiling sadly. It really did pain you to think that you weren't able to do the sole thing you ever thought yourself good at. But maybe, after you lived in a thousand realities in the past two years (as of today, maybe the reason why you wanted to get out of your home so bad), this was your new one. A reality in which you weren't able to write anymore. Fear was not even close to describe how you felt about the future.

"Don't kid yourself, I know you'll make it eventually." San offers, grabbing your hand in his. "You know, you should be the last person who is hard on yourself." he rubs your hand with his thumb. You wish you could pull away from his touch, or to at least want to pull away. But you don't. His touch is comforting and not a lot of things in your life are that way right now. As you look at him there is a sudden desire to punch yourself in the face, for the only thing that comes through your mind is to thank him again. As you did countless of times before. He did say he grew tired of it.

"You know what I'm in the mood for?" you avoid the subject successfully as he rises his eyebrows, showering you in all his undivided attention. "Drinking my sorrows at a shitty bar." you finish off, painting a big smile on your face. He mirrors it as he sighs through his teeth, letting go of your hand. He notices your intention to avoid talking about anything serious. Anything that might actually help you. You always do it, that is exactly why you talk to him only about nonsense and why, when you call him in the middle of the night (and when he always, always answers) you make him tell you a story. Leaving him to be the only one to talk as you doze off. Never leaving room for him to ask you what is wrong or what you dreamed of. Is how you got on until then, and maybe that is why it went so slowly, the whole "moving on" thing everyone was telling you about. But it was the thing that worked best for you, you figured. Not talking about the elephant in the room got you this far, you can go a little more like that.

"Well, I happen to know the perfect place for that," rising from his seat, he extends his hand towards you. "Shall we?"

You didn't know if it was the alcohol or the bar lights or simply just him. Honestly, you couldn't tell the difference between many things anymore, but as you looked at San talking, you felt more attracted to him than ever. The mole near his eyelid seemed more prominent now, and so did his muscular arms under the fitted shirt he wore, and oh, the freckles painting constellations on his neck. His eyes were sparkling brightly and his teeth were showing from time to time. You looked closely as he licked his lips after taking a sip of his beer. The way he was doing it seemed almost erotic. That one part of your brain that would feel bad for having these thoughts has died when you drank your fourth shot, but you were glad it did. You felt more comfortable now, and with San here, there was not a lot more that you would wish for. Not realistic wishes anyway.

"I need to know which side you stand on," he says angling his body towards yours. "Socks on or off during sleep?" San asks with a serious face, as if he asked if you enjoyed kicking puppies in the face or eating toddlers for dinner. You burst out laughing at the mix of the question and his expression.

"Off, I'm not a psychopath." you answer through your stilled laugh. He frowns.

"Oh no, you're definitely a psycho. Do your feet not get cold?" a bit of frustration could be heard in his voice.

"How would I know? I'm asleep the whole time." you sip from your drink. "Don't tell me you like pineapple on pizza as well..." you plead looking at him.

"And what if I do? It's a good combination! It's like mint chocolate, de-li-cious." San smiles proudly at his outrageous statements. Maybe he is not the person you thought he was. God, he told you so much and yet you still knew so little. That was one of the most intriguing things about him. That you felt like a lifetime wouldn't ever be enough for you to get to know him completely. Like everyday he would pick another thing to like, or something utterly new to do so he doesn't get bored. He always told you how he gets bored of things and people so fast. And yet there he was, still by your side. Maybe you were the mystery he didn't get to solve yet.

"Dude, not toothpaste too.." you cry out as you push his arm, but instead of pushing him, you push yourself. You almost lose your balance off the bar stool, but San's quick reflexes kick in and grab you by the arm, pulling you back in sitting position. He cackles as you try to maintain your balance.

"Maybe we should get you home." he says laying some bills on the bar. You hum in approval and get to your feet as you follow him out of the bar, which was indeed shitty. San is a man of his word.

The walk home was short and calm as you focused more on seeming sober than to what was happening around you. It already got dark as you two strolled past the abandoned streets laughing about things you unwillingly forgot as soon as you finished laughing. This moment, you thought to yourself, is the one that you would remember when a certain song plays. One that will give you the same sensations you feel in this moment. And far away from right now, when you know you will be better, when you listen to that certain song, you'll think wow, so much has changed. That moment could happen 10 days from now, or ten years. You don't know yet. But something about this uncertainty makes you relax somehow, knowing that you still have hope. And most of it is thanks to San. He may not be aware of all the things that he is helping you with, but you are. It's like a mental list that you never stop writing on. Could you ever repay him for any of it?

"Here we are," he says as he places his hand on your shoulder and you take a hold of his arm as he rattles on about not drinking anymore and going to sleep and whatever else he decided to nag you about. Your focus is only on his lips, and then his eyes, and his lips again, and his hand on your arm, and then feeling his arm flexing underneath your touch, and the feeling of being taken care of by someone. You realize you don't want this night to end quite yet.

"Do you wanna come in?" you interrupt, and observe his quick reaction of rapidly shutting his mouth and widening his eyes.

"I could use a live storytelling session right now." you add.

What where you asking for exactly? As you looked at him hesitate for a bit, you weren't sure that you knew either. But after a few seconds of looking around, he hums in approval as he nods and follows you inside your home. It's not as clean as you would wish but not as messy as to apologize for anything. You both take off your shoes and walk into the open space living room. Feeling San's presence close behind you, you turn and signal for him to sit down on the couch as you go to a little counter.

"I have vodka, whiskey and some cherry liquor," you turn your head back towards him. He was sitting on your couch now. But not how someone who entered their friend's apartment for the first time would be expected to sit, no. Because he didn't have that posture of "oh, I don't want to make myself comfortable because my presence here is out of place". No. He looked like he fucking owned the place. Like he payed the bills. Like he chose every single piece of decoration there was inside your home. And you weren't mad about it, if you were being honest. The everlasting confidence that was emanating out his every pore always looked good on him. His legs were spread apart, and you didn't forbid yourself to spend more than a few seconds scanning his thighs, thinking of numerous ways you could make use of them. Prominent Adam's apple marked his throat as his head was thrown back over the backrest. It seemed that he moved in slow motion, lazily pulling his head up and in your direction.

"Glass of whiskey would be nice." he answered through a half pout as his hands splayed even more on the higher edge of the couch. Obeying his orders, you unconsciously let his choice be the one you make as well, so you pour the liquid in two glasses. The strong scent hits you immediately, and you know you won't be able to drink it, the alcohol in your system will reject this on the spot if you dared adventure too far. But you decided back when you invited your friend into your house, tonight was the night you were going to test your limits.

You sit yourself on the couch, next to the man you hide your desire for not so well, closer than you usually would. And he seems to observe regarding the fact that he appears to be leaning a bit into you. Maybe it's in your head. He sips from the glass you hand him, licking his lips again, the gesture he did at the bar seems to be hitting you in a certain, already wet, spot in between your legs as it did a little time ago. He hums right after swallowing the drink, you follow with interest the way his Adam's apple moves up and down. Why is he being so unworldly attractive tonight? Is it really the alcohol or has the sexual tension finally built up enough for you to not be able to take it anymore. You feel an unexpected, but not unwelcomed, ache in your heart and stomach and definitely in your pussy. He places the glass down, with careful fingers, on the table before you and resumes his previous stance, except now one of his hands chooses to rest on the thigh closer to you. You admire it from respectable distance, one which you weren't sure you'd be able to maintain for too long. His hands were clean, nails kept short on his slender long fingers, and the rings adorning them only completed the way his veins were traveling down the back of his palm. Will there ever be a time where you could look at Choi San and not like what you see? Highly doubtful.

"That's some good shit," finally his face catches your attention, and happily so. He looks at you through his lashes, smirking with one corner of his beautiful mouth. You wondered how his lips might feel. On yours, on your neck, your chest, everywhere. "never took you for a whiskey person."

"I'm not," you say through a bittersweet smile and you realize that maybe you really, desperately need the alcohol right now, so you chug some of it down. "it's been laying around." you finish the sentence and then the glass of whiskey and you place it down the table, next to his. The contrast of the glasses, one empty and one half full, makes you amused in some kind of way. It let's you reminiscence of the many times that you heard from a certain someone, how you were always rushed in the most unfit situations. It was true.

As you look back to San, you feel like you are left with no choice than laying on your back and placing your head on his lap. So you do, maybe slower than you feel you move in your drunk-dazed mind. As you nuzzle the back of your head into his thighs, you close your eyes, for your vision was getting blurry and the room slowly spun around.

"You can begin anytime." you sigh out and feel him shifting a bit underneath you. He chuckles lowly and it takes him a few moments to adjust to the situation presented before him, it would be strange to you too. These were exactly the kind of things that you hesitated to do with San, because you partly knew his feelings for you, so you didn't want to give too much water to the well. Exactly the kind of intimacy that would leave room to hope for more, want more.

And not only from his side.

"I met this girl a while ago," he starts and softly places his hand on top of your head, massaging your scalp and slowly pulling at strands of your hair. "she's the whole package. Smart, funny, kind and so fucking hot." , safe to say you don't expect his last words to hit you like they do. A tad bit of jealousy makes its presence felt in the bottom of your heart, thinking that there might be a possibility that he doesn't refer to you. But the slow strokes his fingers offer your head make you feel too good to give it any importance.

"She's got this thing about her, I don't know how to even say it. It's like every time we talk, we knew each other since birth and like the first time we ever met, all at once. It's incredible, really." the way he talked was how you only heard people talk in movies. Hopeless romantic to the very end.

"Sounds like she's got you head over heels." you huff out slightly annoyed.

"Yeah, you'd be shocked," silence following his words, words that had a heartbroken nuance to them. He continues to massage your head and his touch feels so good, so comforting, so familiar. Like he did it every time he saw you, like he at least imagined doing it every time. "she really loves my stories." he adds after what seems to be like forever, and his hand stops, pulling itself out of your proximity. Your eyes shoot open and you find his gaze upon you. At the same time he looks sad, his eyes are also filled with anticipation, of what is to come, of how you would react to the fact that he just confirmed it was you he talked about. You sit up, trying not to let the slight dizziness in your head get the best of you and turn to him. Faces close to each other, studying him one last time before things change between you two. He wants it. And you clearly want it. Both of you so bad that it's not even a surprise how you meet halfway into a kiss. You thank the universe in your head, for it being this way. For you to not beat yourself up too much later that you initiated anything. So you let yourself sink into the feeling of him, his smell intoxicating. You know that it will be hard to not feel it in your lungs for a long time after this, and you were happy for it to be that way. Your lips are shy at first, not used to kissing anymore, not used to someone who hasn't kissed you before. But the feeling is more than pleasant. He takes his time, slowly nipping away at your bottom lip, swiftly pushing his tongue into your mouth. Your teeth clash and you both smile, licking into each other's mouths a bit more. His lips are soft and so warm, this feeling has long been forgotten by your mind. He pulls away and you gasp for air, he reaches to brush the hair out of your face and cups your face gently, looking into your eyes with a glimmer you were sure you haven't seen on him before. But you knew exactly what it meant.

"I don't want it if you don't." he says, assuring you once again that his actions will only be made for your comfort.

"I can't even tell you how bad I want it." your voice soft as it answers, and after receiving your words with wonder on his face, San downs the whiskey left in his glass, only to rush kissing you right after he gulps it down. If the first kiss was both of you navigating uncharted waters, now you were both desiring more. Hungrily devouring each other, whiskey tasted so much better on his tongue. You climbed into his lap as he pulled you closer to his chest. Serving as a reminder, you needed to get that shirt off of him. And as you helped him get rid of it, you weren't even surprised of how he looked even better than what you kept picturing all night. He returned the favor of undressing you of your shirt, and briefly cupped your breasts through your bra as he pulled you into another kiss. His hands quickly running to your waist, pulling you deeper into his lap, feeling him get hard underneath you, moment by moment. One of his palms traveled down to massage your butt cheek through your jeans, and the other quickly moved up to unhook your bra deftly with steady fingers.

"You must be popular with the ladies." you whisper close to his mouth and he chuckles.

"Not with the ones I want." he replies and you jokingly slap his bicep in response. He pulls the bra off throwing it somewhere nearby and admires your chest for a second too long before taking one of your nipples in his mouth. You throw your head back and whimper at the feeling of his tongue swirling around the sensitive part of your breasts. You tangle your fingers in his hair as you try to slowly ride his thigh, feeling the need to get rid of the tension in some kind of way. He let's your nipple out of his mouth with a lewd pop and laughs as he glues his hand to the back of your head, forcing you to look into his eyes.

"Darling if you want something you just need to ask," he brings his mouth over to your chest, planting sprinkled kisses along your collarbones. "my thigh? my fingers? my cock?" he asks in between suctions on the soft, sensitive skin of your neck. You were so sexually frustrated that you thought you were going to cry, and his words definitely didn't help. If something, they only made the tightness in your belly feel even tighter. "Which one will it be?" he asks finally as his eyes find yours again. You barely manage a pathetic whimper as he let's go of your head to unbutton your jeans. His hand slides slowly until it meets the band of your panties, but it doesn't go further, his eyes stopping on your face.

"Fuck, San, I want everything." you finally verbalize for him, your words laced with desperation for him to take things further. He closes his eyes and smiles in satisfaction when hearing your words, resuming the attack on your neck, biting down some marks here and there. His fingers finally get a hold of your clit and you shudder at the sensation. The circular motions he starts only make you moan his name quietly, through whimpers. It's been so long since you touched yourself like that, let alone somebody else. Masturbation was a thing you couldn't get back into since everything happened. Every time you tried, your mind only pictured Hongjoong, and it always ended with you crying without releasing in any kind of way. That was how you spent the last two years of your life, no wonder you were sexually frustrated. But now, the only thing on your mind was San, and how you could get him to make you cum faster. The position wasn't really a favorable one, he didn't have much access and so, his movements were limited and slow. San sinks his hand further down, teasing your hole with his middle finger, coating it in your arousal.

"You're so wet baby," he slowly pushes his finger into you, wandering into your inside, and your tightness. It did definitely feel like rain after a long drought. He pumped his finger inside you a few times, adding an extra one after a few seconds, stretching you in a way that has become unfamiliar but satisfying all the same. He fastened his pace and you unconsciously started to ride his fingers, chasing after your long awaited release. It wouldn't last too much, taking in consideration that you haven't orgasmed in so long. Your left hand was on San's nape, anchoring you to some sort of reality that he was indeed there, and the other one was on his chest. It wasn't much longer until your body conjured the estranged feeling in your tummy, you were close. San seemed to read your thoughts once again as his movements came to a halt, you offered a frustrated whimper in return. He lifted you up of his lap and placed you on your back next to him. He helped you get rid of your jeans and then your panties.

"I know you want to cum, but I want you to do it in my mouth." his face in between your thighs, breath fanning over your aching core. This time he didn't wait for a verbal response anymore, and you were glad he didn't. His warm tongue licked a long swipe starting from your hole to your clit, his mouth latched to it with sensual movements, sucking and licking at it, taking all the time in the world.

"Ho...ly fu-fuck," you gasped as you threw your head back into the cushion of the couch, arching your back under his ministrations.

His tongue was skilled, and so were his fingers when they slid inside you for the second time tonight. He curled them up, hitting your g-spot every time he pumped them in. Your body shuddered hardly at the sensation.

"Feel good?" he asked looking up at you, for the first time since he positioned you like this, you looked down at him. And what a sight for sore eyes, so lewd that if you looked at it for long enough you would cum without him needing to do anything to you anymore.

"So good," you reply and place one of your hands into his raven hair when he continues abusing your sensitive bud in the best way you could think of, he continues his movements with his tongue and his fingers, and it's only a matter of seconds until it builds up. You pull at his hair as he deepens his head in between the thighs that are now clenched around his head and it finally all becomes too much for you.

"Fuck....San....ahh," you cry out whilst shutting your eyes tightly, thing that makes you see stars in the back of your head.

You feel proud for satisfying his wish. San seems too feel so as well. You come undone on his fingers, and he pulls them out quickly to attend your releasing wetness with his inpatient tongue, you feel as if you could pass out from the soft stimulation. Such a long time since you've had an orgasm and this might have been the best way to have one.

"Fuck, you taste so good," he says as he slowly rises and takes his place above you, letting you have a taste yourself as he kisses you, swirling his wet muscle in every corner of your mouth, making sure none of it is getting left untouched by him. You sure do taste better on his tongue. Feeling his hard dick press on the inside of your thigh, in all its dizziness, your brain only wants more.

"Can we go to the bedroom?" you ask nicely, only to be met once more with San's surprised face. Like the thought that you still might want more never crossed his mind. He helps you up by the waist and lets you guide the way to the room. As you enter the it you quickly run to the bed, throwing yourself on it as you giggle like you're high, and you might as well be. High hormones had the same effect as weed for you. San only shakes his head with a smile on his face, while looking down and getting his belt off. Shit, this is really happening. Really finally happening. He slowly approaches the bed, ridding himself of his pants as he reaches the edge of it. Your friend pulls down his boxers as well, and you watch closely as his erect member is finally out of its entrapment, it springs up vividly, slapping against his torso. You're left in surprise at the sight of his girthy, definitely above average long, cock. You bite your lip involuntarily and he laughs to your reaction.

"You don't need to," you quickly blurt out as soon as you see him pulling a condom from his wallet. "I mean...I'm clean, if so are you then..." well it's safe to say you've became quite a desperate little thing during your two, deprived of sex, years. "then, we don't need to worry." you finish your sentence.

"You sure?" he asks for confirmation once again.

"Yeah, 'm sure." you respond and beckon him with your index finger. He muffles out a swear word you don't quite register as he drops the condom from his hold, quickly climbing on the bed. He crafts a better position above you, kissing you gently as he lines up his tip with your entrance. You whine in anticipation, lips still attached to his own, softer ones. He slowly pushes himself inside, taking lots of time to make sure your tightness grows comfortable around him. It hurts. Not only it is the first time with San, it felt like the first time altogether. At first, it seemed like your damn hymen grew back. Ironic, considering the amount of sex you used to have. You frowned as you whimpered softly into his mouth. He quickly broke the kiss, watching you with a slightly panicked look on his face.

"Hey, you all right?" he brushed the hair out of your face with his right hand, holding his weight on his left arm. You slowly started to get used to him, your whole body relaxing noticeably when seeing his face.

"Yeah, you can move." you stated with a voice glazed with desire. He did as asked, moving his hips in slow strokes, every time trying to deepen himself more inside you. He groaned each time his dick reached a new part of you.

"Fucking hell, how are you so fucking tight?" he lets out in a tone that almost seems annoyed with the state of your pussy.

"You...are the first...since then." you speak in between craving moans. He shudders at your words, stopping for a second, as he buries his forehead in the crook of your neck.

"Well, damn, princess. Should've let me stretch you out sooner." he whispers into your ear. And that is by far the most obscene thing that has left his lips tonight. He started moving again, this time picking a pace that had you crying out for his name. You couldn't think of much else when San was fucking you, his cock kindly brushing over a certain sweet spot every time it reached its depth. His dick and your pleasure occupied most of the place inside you and your mind, respectively. But at one point, you did try to recall how exactly you ended up right there. Somewhere along the way of finding the answer, you realized it didn't matter how, it mattered that it did. And the strokes that San was driving into you only made you thank the universe that it happened. Following after his release, he increased his speed. His voice was starting to get raspy after groaning and moaning, as did yours, both of your throats dry now.

"I...I think I'm gonna cum..." he whispered in your ear, and you immediately understood the question hiding behind his words. Your mind was in a state of debate for a few too many seconds. In or out? The only person that ever came in was him. In or out? But you wanted San to cum inside you so badly. In or out? That wouldn't be fair. In or out? But why wouldn't it be?

"Inside." you determinately say. His movements begin to grow messy, losing rhythm. He immerses into you deep, almost knocking you out with the way his cock is so richly stuffed inside you, and he let's out an angelic cry as he fills you up with white ropes of his hot seed. With his forehead glued to your shoulder, San pauses to catch his breath for a few seconds, before pulling his body up to get better vision of you. He cups your cheek and kisses you softly once again, pulling himself apart from you quicker than expected.

"You're so beautiful," he brushes his thumb over your lips. "I could look at you for all eternity." your heart thumps heavily when hearing his words. It made no sense for you how someone who looked like him, could tell you that you're beautiful. It seemed so far away from your reality, but still, you were thankful. At a loss for words, and only giving a shy smile in return, San mirrors it as he ascends and then throws himself in the empty space next to you. The only thing that is heard the next few minutes is both of your breaths as your chests heave. You nuzzle up into San's side, he embraces you with his arm as you grab him by the waist, laying your head on his chest. He kisses you on the crown of your head as he starts humming a melody that you don't think you've heard yet. Nonetheless, sleep gets a hold of your tired body and mind quickly, and you don't know if it's the alcohol that creates an illusion, or if it's just San's presence, but throughout your dreams you feel as if you are guarded by an angel.

Easily the best sleep you've had in a while. You are reminded of how easy it is to fall asleep on someone else's shoulder, just as you wake up.

*****

Before you met him you always thought you were better at spending time alone than you were at spending time with others. Now your thoughts had changed about the matter. It was like you were made only for being in Hongjoong's company, and when you were, you felt at peace. Like nothing could affect you ever again. The moments after sex were the ones you loved most, it almost felt like after your bodies were joint, your souls were getting combined as well, while laying on one another. He had his warm hand draped against your waist, playfully tracing circles on your soft skin, humming whatever song came to his mind. Your hand was on his bare chest and your head in the crook of his armpit. If you would be stuck in a time loop made only of this moment, you would never get sick of it.

The heat his body was emanating seemed to strangely warm you up from inside out, and the smell that was around the two of you was making your mind dizzy and your lungs crave for more. Feeling his chest rise as he inhaled and exhaled made you realize that your breaths were in sync, and hearing his heartbeat, you were sure they were too, in sync with yours. For you, loving Hongjoong was such a natural thing to do, like you two were extensions of each other and worked at full capacity only when together. His fingers slowly took a hold of your hand which he brought to his lips, he kissed it and then squeezed it tightly. You looked up into his eyes. His beautiful eyes sprinkled with love and adoration as he watched you.

"I think that every day I spend with you, I find a new meaning to love." he brushes your cheek gently and you stay silent, your mind in a stage of awe at how greatly he sums up the things you feel, without even talking to each other. You smile as you kiss him again and again and again.

"Then let's find a new meaning to love together for the rest of our lives," still standing close to his face, you see him smile and you do as well. You knew that even in the darkest of days, his smile would always lighten up your whole world. He pecks your lips again and suddenly tries to get up from the bed, the coldness you feel not only in your body, but your heart as well, wraps around your mind and you quickly grab his hand. He stops and kneels on the bed, looking at your uncovered body still on display for the flame that takes ahold in his enchanting eyes.

"We'll be late..." he says as he gets closer to you. That wouldn't be a problem, you think. The author should be allowed to be late to their own book release, right?

"Ten more minutes," you plead as you pull him towards you. He smirks and let's you take control of both his mind and body, as he lays on top of you, filling you up with the heat emanating from his body once again. After all, ten minutes wasn't that much, right?

*****

There it was. The selfishness that has made you lose him. The selfishness that brought you here with San. Everything was your fault. You lost so much of yourself the day you lost Hongjoong, but you were sure your last bit of humanity was completely lost the day you let Choi San believe that you could love him the same way he did. How could you be so reckless? You couldn't even blame the alcohol anymore, only your fucking stupidity. You used the only friend left that you cared about, as a rebound. And he doesn't even know. You looked up at the man who was holding you tight against his chest, as if not to lose you. He was still asleep. His natural unflawed beauty made your heart exclaim in agony as you traced his features with your gaze. As thoughts were overwhelming your mind, you placed your head in its initial position. Your eyes were starting to sting when tears started to form up.

You were the worst there was, weren't you? You killed your boyfriend and you deceived your friend into being your distraction, from all the pain and guilt, in more than one way. You didn't recognize yourself anymore, not after so much time of ignoring all your thoughts and suppressing all your feelings thinking it would get better. It didn't get better, the opposite actually, seeing where you stand right now. It was all because of you, and your selfishness, and it could've all be avoided if you didn't wish for fucking ten more minutes.

You started quivering and sobbing.

"Hey, hey, what's wrong?" San confusedly asks. This should be a sight to see as soon as you open your eyes. The girl you were balls deep in the night before, crying in front of you the morning after. Comforting you came natural to him, like he has been doing it for all his life. And you realized he did do it, not for all his life, sure, but since it happened. He has done his best to comfort you in every way he could. And he always succeeded. And this is how you repaid him. How could you be such a fucking asshole?

"San you need to...you have to leave...I'm sorry." you say through sniffles as it gets harder and harder for you to control the tears pouring down your face. You cannot look him in the eyes but you do get a peek at his grave look, how he looks down, unsure of what to do.

"Did I do something?" he quietly asks with a certain thread of fear in his voice, as if he was terrified of what his question might cause. You wish you could tell him that at the same time he didn't do anything, he also did too much. His kindness and love were too overwhelming for you in the state you were in.t. No matter how much he tried, his love couldn't repair you. You were the only one who could do that, but for what felt like the longest time, you didn't want to do it. Maybe it was time to try now.

"God, no..." you barely manage to blurt out. Speaking seems like the most tiring thing to do right now. "I just have to be alone right now." trying to stop your tears briefly, you look him in the eyes as he retracts his hands off of you. And you can't help but feeling it again, even if you know that it's not the case. Abandoned. Once again, and like the first time, it was all because of you. He got up from the bed, quickly dressing himself in the heavy silence that was surrounding both of you. You slowly hugged your knees to your chest, slightly burying your head in the space that you created. Maybe it wasn't for the best to be left alone but you were afraid of what might happen if you weren't. You saw San walk to your front door, put on his shoes and look at you for a last time. You looked up at him with teary eyes.

"Y/N, I..." love you. He didn't need to enunciate it, you could already see it on his face, how much it hurt him to leave you in this mess, all alone. Whatever you felt for him was so hard to decipher in the amalgam of things that were dwelling inside of you. And it was even harder to accept that you did have certain feelings for him, stronger that you would've liked. He sighed and slowly shook his head, looking down. You saw him leave and then you didn't see much anymore. As bitter tears that flooded your eyes slowly slid into your mouth. Painful screams were tumbling out of your chest giving you no chance to control them. As you get up off the bed you start grabbing whatever comes first and throwing it around. Cradled papers, books off of shelves, tiny decorations on your desk. You reach a framed photo of you and Hongjoong and stop for a second to look at it. Back at the beginning of your relationship when you went to a museum. It started snowing so much that his black coat turned white. You still remembered the cold weather of that period but the warmth of his smile was burning still, even through the damn picture. A few of your tears stained the glass of the photo and after you whimpered in the discomfort you felt around your heart, like someone was squeezing it in their fist, you threw it on the wall across from you. Did you really have to destroy everything nice in your life? As soon as it shattered to pieces you rushed towards it, as if you were not expecting the completely obvious to happen.

"No, no, no..." you whisper to yourself in disbelief. You slowly pick the broken glass in your shaking hands as your crying only gets louder, rivers of tears flowing down your face when your eyes can't seem to look anywhere else but at the old photo.

"I miss you so fucking much..." you whimper in pain, like a dog being beaten.

It's pure torture, you realize, what you're doing to yourself. It takes a lot for your now bloody palms to make contact with your face and wipe your tears, only leaving more of a mess behind. The flesh, now torn from picking up the thin pieces of broken glass, stings when your salty tears slide over the bloody trails and as you rise up with wobbly legs to throw it in the trash, you find yourself looking out the same window you stood with your lover on his last day beside you. Your tears suddenly came to a halt as you looked at the city lights near and far away; your breathing steadied and you remembered.

I want a balcony.

How were you supposed to move on, when you haven't even moved out?

You never felt so nervous for anything in your life before. The microphone was waiting for you on the warmly illuminated stage. You took shy steps towards it as the people started to applaud loudly, you were sure you heard someone whistle from the crowd. As you got in front of the microphone stand you placed one hand on it, dragging it closer. You were not sure how to do this. It should've been your second time, but due to the incidents back then, it was the first time in your life you had to speak at your own book release. Or even attend it. You inhaled deeply and looked through the crowd once more. Your eyes met Seonghwa's as he slightly raised the glass of champagne towards you. The pity he laid upon you with the help of his gaze a while back had turned into pride. You couldn't help but remember the surprise on his face when you went not to his office, but his house, at two in the morning, when you finally finished writing.

You spent the night together, he began reading and you fell in and out of sleep on his couch. When you woke up, he made breakfast for you and he told you how great it was, with the little eternal side notes from his side. He was proud.

"I have no idea what I should say," you offer a strong beginning, everyone starting to chuckle at your awkward comment. "I've been through hell and back writing this book. Two years and a half ago I lost the love of my life in a car accident, and for a long time I thought I lost everything." the room became suddenly tense as you spoke the words.

"But this should be a reminder that some doors aren't closed. We just think that they are." you finish off raising your glass and looking at a familiar pair of eyes. Everyone cheers as you get off the stage, and after receiving compliments from your boss, your team and other people as well, you follow the suited silhouette that you've been secretly chasing with your stare all night, outside.

"Hey," you greet as you find San on a bench right next to the venue. His eyes meet yours and for a brief second it's like all the nerves you had on stage came back, but they were doubled this time. It was hard going through everything without San. He tried to contact you, of course, but you weren't giving him much and the only times you saw him were when you ran into each other at work. When you looked at yourself in the mirror you couldn't recognize yourself anymore, but he? He was just the same. Dressed for the occasion, his black hair swiped back neatly and his face...as gorgeous as ever, and the most beautiful thing you've ever seen.

"Hey," he greets back as he drags his body on one side of the bench, signaling for you to join him. You sit beside him and look forward, feeling his eyes on your figure. "how have you been?" he asks, his voice glazed in worry. You made him suffer for the last time, you tell yourself. The whole ghosting thing and all the times you avoided him, those summed up the last time you were going to ever hurt him. For now you were working towards slowly healing the wound that has scarred you, which gave you more clarity about a lot of things.

"Better." you answer, looking in his direction. "I finally got it out!" you add smiling, a bittersweet smile that you held inside for a long time, it was for him only.

"I told you." San mimics your smile and looks into the distance.

"You did," moments of silence accompany as you think of the best way to embody your thoughts into words. "I never got to apologize." you start and his head shoots right at you. "I'm sorry. For using you to try and fuck my pain away." finally saying it aloud to him and getting it off your chest make your lungs finally not burn up when you try to inhale.

"I should apologize too," he begins and it's your turn to look at him with confusion.

"A part of me was aware that you were trying to do that and yet I wasn't able to stop myself." he adds. And it's like some part of you already knew, and already forgave him for it and that was because you knew you had way more blame than him, but you learned to come to terms with it, like you did with many things in your life. Learning to forgive yourself wasn't an easy process, but with the help of a good therapist, you slowly learned how to do it. You were at peace with a few of the things that kept you awake during the night. Slowly getting better.

"I'm sorry." he says and you're sure that more honest words had never left his mouth.

You take his hand into yours and place it on your lap. For the first time since you know him, his hands are cold. You use your other palm as a blanket and cover his hand from the cold winter breeze outside. He nurtured for you enough, it was finally time that you were ready to return the favor.

"I read the book," he says, looking at your hands holding each other.

"Lots of them are inspired from your stories," you refer to the poems, thinking of how many more were written with your mind only thinking about him that didn't even make the cut into the book. "and lots of them are inspired from you." You look into his eyes as he squeezes your hand gently. Maybe you didn't yet know what you wanted. But you knew what you didn't want. And you didn't want to lose San. Not again. Not ever.

"Can I take you out on Thursday?" he asks as his gaze stills down on your warm face. If he asked you this on a bad day, you still weren't sure what your answer would be, but today was a good day. You never got to say goodbye to Hongjoong, but that didn't mean you couldn't say hello to anyone ever again. "You know, in case you need more inspiration for your next masterpiece." he adds and you laugh shortly while nodding quickly. You spend a few more minutes in silence, enduring the cold air, silently revealing to each other the most vulnerable parts of you. You look down at your joined hands and then into his eyes. You smile, partly because you do feel happy, and the rest because you know he'll do the same, and hell, you fucking missed that dimpled smile of his.

The man doesn't say anything when you lean your head on his shoulder, but you are almost sure you can hear his heart beating faster. "I missed you so much." you finally say, letting your feelings pour out in front of San for the first time, leaving you vulnerable in a way no one has seen you since then.

And for the first time, while looking at the bright clear sky above you, you think for yourself that...He would be so proud.

[this-is-moony-lovegood]

Just watched a buddie edit to Call Your Mom by Noah Kahan, and I’m sitting here thinking of a plot line where Buck goes by himself to get Chris.

Like Eddie is suffering back in LA and Buck is like fuck it I’m bringing Chris home because Eddie doesn’t deserve this shit. So he gets in his Jeep and he drives 800 miles to El Paso and he shows up at Helena and Ramon’s house to get Christopher. And Helena and Ramon try to fight him on this of course and Buck is chewing them out for trying to keep Chris even thought this was supposed to be temporary and all they’re doing is pushing the narrative that Eddie’s a shitty father and that Chris should stay in El Paso permanently. And Chris wakes up and sees Buck and rushes out to him and is so scared he’s here alone because Eddie is hurt or dead, and Buck just tells him that Eddie is physically okay but it’s time for Chris to come home. Buck tells him that even if he isn’t ready to stay at the Diaz house that he can stay at the loft with him, or Buck will move into the Diaz house to be a barrier if that’s what Chris wants but he needs to be back in LA. Obviously Buck is desperate but he’s also being parental, and Chris immediately goes to pack his shit so they can go home. Once against Helena and Ramon try to fight him on it, but Buck whips out the will card and says that even if Eddie is “unfit to be a parent right now” like they say, that responsibility actually goes to Buck not them and they have a problem with that they can contact his lawyer who will promptly tell them to “fuck off”.

Then, you get the drive back to LA where Chris and Buck have a full on heart to heart about Eddie. Buck talks to Chris about how his dad knows he messed up and has been trying to work on himself to fix it, but he can’t get any better with Chris if Chris isn’t willingly to put in the effort on his end. And a Chris talks about his grief over his mom and how that’s something he thought he could handle until little things keep pulling him back in like the dating plot in season 7, and obviously the Kim situation. So, Buck suggests they go the route of talking about Shannon and what Chris remembers so they spend some time talking about her in the car. The talk about her leaving (on her own and her death), and how no one will ever replace her in his life (and how he feels like his dad has been trying to do that when he dates, but all it doesn’t bring up more trauma when they break up and they leave). “I wish dad could see that he doesn’t need to replace mom in my life. I already have two parents: dad and you.” To which Buck has to pull the car over because he’s gonna lose it at his kid calling him a parent for the first time. “You, me, and dad are already a family. Why can’t both of you just understand that the three of us is all we need?” Which gets them on the topic of implying that Buck and Eddie would be dating/married for it to solely be the three of them (and a reminder that Buck has a boyfriend), to which Chris just tells him that he already knows they’re in love with each other, so why can’t they be honest about it and have dad stop dating women and Buck break up with Tommy. Which has Buck’s head spinning because, “your dad is straight, Chris” to which Chris says, “So were you four months ago, Buck. Look what happened?” And now Buck is spiraling once again because holy shit he’s in love with Eddie and maybe, just maybe Eddie’s in love with him too.

When they stop for a bathroom break Buck calls and breaks up with Tommy. Tommy knows exactly what’s happening the moment he answers, and tells him it was only a matter of time until Buck figured it out.

They get back to LA and pull up to the Diaz house. Eddie hasn’t heard from Buck is like four days so he’s been worrying because he called out of work and he never does that, but all of his words die on his tongue the moment he sees Chris. And Chris, who has barely spoken to him in the past four months barrels his way into Eddie’s arms. And Eddie breaks down crying at getting his son back. “What are you doing here? How are you here?” And Chris replies with, “Buck came and got me. He told me it was time to come home.” And Eddie just takes a moment to think that over, lets Chris go and throws himself into Buck’s arms for a massive hug. And Eddie is practically sobbing into his chest repeating “thank you” on a loop. And Buck who is an empathetic crier, just tells him, “you know I’d do anything for our family, Eds.”

They don’t kiss or anything, but Buck and Chris make eye contact over Eddie’s shoulder with a silent agreement that they’re going to figure this out. And when Eddie is ready, the three of them are going to officially be a family.

[cryingatships]

Thinking about Kenta slowly settling into the X-Hunter family over the course of weeks and months, partly cause it's a foster home Tony's adopted kids, and partly because he's Kim's boyfriend.

Kenta visits Kim after a group practise just a few weeks after the events of canon and stands stiff next to the doors of the garage, not daring to step inside.

No one notices him (cause we all know how lax X-Hunter's security is lmfao) till the practise is finished and Kim is coming into the garage with the rest of the team to look at their performance reviews, and he notices Kenta standing all awkward and small and tiny.

He waves at Kenta, and it catches Alan's attention and of course he has to invite Kenta in (the man has a knack for picking up 'kids' at a moment's notice).

North tries to protest a little because hello this man literally tried to kill a few of us and sabotage our team in the worst possible way??? But Alan (and Kim's) glare shuts him up, and Kenta is invited inside graciously by Alan.

Kim perks up in his presence, but the rest of the people are still a little tense, especially Babe, Sonic, and Way (he's alive cause I said so. And he and Kenta has history, and not the good or the spice kind so!). They are not the most pleased, remembering the past, taking Kenta's actions as fatally dangerous but nothing personal, remembering how the circumstances made by Tony, and how Kenta went through weeks of therapy, and will be going to years more of it, all narrated by Kim during practise-breaks and team-meetings after he officially joined the team.

Jeff greets him with a smile, and Charlie nods in acknowledgement, having heard of Kenta from Jeff for years, though without any face to put the name onto before.

But they resume talking numbers and times with Alan and the technical team, and soon no one is paying any attention to Kenta as he shuffles himself into one of the couches in the corner, stooping down and trying to make himself look as small as he feels.

He hears words, but does not register anything, thinking about the warm smile of Alan, the man who's entire team he tried to destroy, the same team he has poured his life and savings into, according to Kim. He thinks about Way, who has faced Tony for years too, just like Kenta himself, but has betrayed Tony in the end and sided with people who care for him, who loves him, who surrounds him now and would surround him forever. And he thinks about the eyes of Babe, who, like him, has gone through it all with Tony, who pulled himself out, even if it's right at the end. Babe never bent himself back to Tony's will, never put a gun on anyone's head and killed them just because Tony asked him to, never did all the terrible things Kenta has done, even when everything went against him, even when Kenta tried to destroy his career and imprison him in Tony's mansion again. Even when he was at his lowest, he was still strong enough to stand in front of Tony and spit in his name. He thinks of Jeff, who smiled at him, who had run away too, and about Charlie, who almost died thanks to Kenta playing villain for Tony and yet stood up and challenged Tony anyway.

They have suffered so much over the years, as much as Kenta has gone through in Tony's hand, yet they have run away, made their lives in the world outside without fear, have stood in front of Tony and looked at his face and not flinched.

And now they have looked at Kenta, and have let him in, let him stay, even though Kenta does not deserve it in the least bit. Even though he has pulled dirty tricks, tried to kill them again and again. Yet they nod at him, and smile at him, and let Alan and Kim invite him in, even when he doesn't deserve it, doesn't deserve forgiveness, doesn't deserve love, doesn't deserve Kim's love and Jeff's smile and Alan's kindness, even when he's a traitor, even when he's dirtier and lower than anything else, even when-

"Hey, you ok?"

A hand rests on his back, warm against the fabric of his shirt. The familiar scent of coffee, lemon, mixed with engine exhaust and gasoline tickle his nose. It's a strange combination, potent and slightly stinging, but it feels like warmth, cuddles, and home, even when Kenta does not know what a home is.

Kim sits down next to him and pulls Kenta's face on his shoulder.

"You ok? Are the smells here too much? Wanna leave?"

Kim's voice is an anchor against the rough waves of guilt, shame, anger, regret. He's warm and real by Kenta's side, and his hand is soft and forgiving as it moves through Kenta's hair—now longer and falling on his shoulders after Kim telling him how hot it looks for days. He, at least, doesn't seem to hate Kenta in the garage, since he invited Kenta and all.

"Don't you have more to talk about cars?"

"Not really. Alan let me go today. Saw you shaking alone in a corner and all... thought I should ease you in your first visit here."

"Will that be ok? I'm being a bother here, aren't I? I'll leave-"

But Kim doesn't let him go. A wraps an arm tight around Kenta and holds him to his side. The hands on Kenta's hair become gentler, and Kim's calming pheromones slowly spread between them.

"Nah, it's all good. We weren't talking anything that imp. Plus, Alan's worried about you, y'know?"

Kenta can't fathom why Alan would ever be worried about him. Being concerned for Kim is understandable, Kim's a racer and a good one at that, he's an important new addition to the team. Forgiving Kenta and letting him come in the garage for the sake of keeping Kim satisfied was also understandable, even downright kind, but...

"Why?" Kenta has to ask. "I... did them a lot of wrong."

"You can ask Alan later, if you want." Kim shrugs. "He's like that, I guess. He picked me up too, in case you didn't notice." There's a smile in his voice. He seems comfortable, far more than Kenta had thought was possible in a team that used to be his competitors till a few weeks ago. He seems... at home.

Kenta's glad he has found his home.

"..."

He doesn't say something for a while. Talking to Alan personally, asking him something like that? Kenta can't even imagine it. Tony would never allow someone to walk away without a punishment after trying to harm him in the littlest bit. And Kenta has done so, so much more to Alan and his team.

"Is this making you uncomfortable?" Kim asks after a minute of silence. "I swear Alan likes you, and the guys have all forgiven you too. Mostly, anyway. North's always a bit impulsive, but he's coming around too, so don't feel bad."

Kenta feels bad. He feels so bad. Worse now that he knows he's received so much forgiveness, and all of it undeserved too. Why would someone even do that, forgive people who brought them harm?

Kim notices his silence. And perhaps he takes it for discomfort, for he asks if Kenta is tired, if he wants to go home.

Home. Is that what he and Kim are making together?

He does want to leave, get away from the inquiring, sometimes concerned eyes. Get away from the forgiveness that burns shame and guilt into his skin.

He wants to go home, bury himself in the piles of blankets on his and Kim's bed, breathe in lungfuls of his scent and drown in his kisses. But...

"Didn't you say you had to go for a team dinner after practise?"

"Right! About that... Alan's actually asked me to tell you to join us, if you'd like to. But if you want to go home now, then we can leave, let me just tell them goodbye."

And Kenta really, really does to go home. But he also wants to stay. He doesn't want Kim to miss a dinner with his still-new team, not when he wants to stay with the X-Hunters for many seasons still.

And... he wants to stay, too. Check if Alan's really ok with him going, if the rest of the team will still be civil in closer proximity.

He wants to see how far kindness and forgiveness can go.

It will be uncomfortable. Enduring prying gazes for a few more hours, and maybe even awkward small talks as they try to shift around and bend the established pack dynamics to let Kenta, coward, traitor Kenta, come into their circle even if it's only for one dinner.

And then again, Kenta may just fuck it all up with ill timed words, or perhaps someone from the team, maybe North, or Way or Babe or Charlie or Sonic, or perhaps even Alan, kind as he is, realizes they've had enough of tolerating a weak, pathetic excuse of a person in their table.

But he wants to be brave, even if it's years late.

Kim deserves a pack. Kim loves him, and Kenta loves him just as much. He's not going to take it all away form Kim just because he's afraid, just because of 'what ifs'.

"No, I'll go for dinner with you. Tell Alan that, please, if they'll still have me."

Kim presses a kiss on his forehead, takes a long inhale of Kenta's scent, and gets up.

"Be right back, then!"

Kenta watches him walk towards the small circle of people gathered around the screens with blinking numbers of red.

He doesn't know what will happen, but he wants to try. He wants to brave. He wants a home. For Kim. And for himself.

[reminiscingtonight]

Good Girls Gone Bad

Leah Williamson x Reader

Word Count: 1.3k

A/N: I usually don’t post back-to-back, but I was inspired by *that* clip

[WOSO Masterlist]

“Okay, which one of you did it?”

For 8am on a Monday morning, Katie McCabe can be loud. Even slightly hungover after a late night out partying, the girl can still break eardrums. 

Usually you’d be hyping her up, causing a ruckus with your platonic soulmate and making the locker room slightly more chaotic, but as mentioned before, you too are suffering the consequences of a late night out at the club with your best friend. You’re huddled by Lia, hoping the calm Swiss would dissuade Katie from impeding upon your self-imposed exile from the crazier and louder side of the locker room. Your hopes are dashed when Katie’s shoes come into the edge of your vision.

“Unless your next words are going to be apologizing for dragging me out last night with you and then making me do shots when we had practice at the butt crack of dawn the next day, I don’t want to hear it,” you grumble, not lifting your head from where it’s resting on Lia’s shoulder.

The Swiss rubs a soothing hand up and down your back, though not without exchanging an amused look with your girlfriend who’s sitting on your other side.

“Don’t act so innocent. We both know what you did.”

“And what exactly did I do?”

It’s only then, when you finally look Katie in the face, that you know exactly why she’s so mad. Biting your lip, you try hard not to laugh.

Some time between stumbling out of your shared uber last night and then showing up to today’s practice (late of course), Katie’s hair has turned from its rich brown roots into a bright red mane.

“Wow. I think you’ve got the Ronnie McD look down pat. You auditioning to be his successor or something?”

The snorts of laughter in the room are worth the murderous expression that crosses Katie’s face at your tease.

“I was taking a shower this morning and the next thing I know, my hair’s red! I know you had something to do with it!”

Out of all the girls on the team, Katie’s usually the one pulling the pranks. You’re probably second after her, oftentimes tag teaming to get a wider range of teammates. So it’s not like Katie’s argument is fully without merit. Though this time around she’s missing a key detail.

“And at what time would I have had the opportunity to do so?”

You’ve all been out on international duty for a little under two weeks. Yesterday was the first day you’ve seen Katie since leaving for camp, and you don’t even remember the last time you stepped foot into her place.

Honestly you wish you could take credit for such a prank. Only very few people have ever successfully pranked Katie. So whoever swapped her shampoo out with a dye filled bottle deserved all the praises in the world.

“Who else would’ve done something like this? Leah?” Katie throws the blonde’s name out with a roll of her eyes. 

It’s well known how responsible your girlfriend is. To have Leah taking such a big mick out of Katie would basically be the same as if Kim were to suddenly become tech savvy --- virtually unfathomable.

Leah simply hums. “Who me? No, no way, not me. I’m a good girl.”

Though her words are innocent, Leah follows them up with a cheeky grin and a wink sent your way.

Your mouth drops open. Leah did not just say that. Not in front of all of your friends. Not when she has a tendency to say similar things as that in the privacy of your shared bedroom. 

You’re half blushing, wondering what has gotten into your girlfriend, and half appalled all the same as you turn, wanting to see Katie’s reaction to Leah’s words. You’re already bracing yourself for the inevitable teasing or for the brunette to read into Leah’s body language, only to find the Irish woman not even paying Leah any attention. Instead, she’s back to glaring at you.

“Mark your days, (Y/L/N),” Katie huffs. “I’ll get you back for this. Just you see.”

Turning on her heels, Katie stomps to her locker, glaring at anyone who dares to stop and stare.

Rolling your eyes, you turn back to your girlfriend. There’s still this indecipherable gleam in her eyes that’s making you quite suspicious.

Finally ungluing yourself from Lia’s side, you all but throw yourself back into the blonde’s arms.

Chuckling, Leah presses a kiss against your cheek.

“Can you believe Katie? Like when do I have the time to take a piss on her? I barely crawled out of bed this morning, let alone drove to her place and replaced her shampoo with red dye.”

“I told you going out last night was a bad idea.”

Yes, you distinctly remember Leah trying to convince you to spend the night with her, but you hadn’t seen Katie in what felt like ages. You kissed your pouting girlfriend goodbye, promising to be back quick.

“If you hadn’t blown me off to go clubbing with Katie last night, we could’ve been doing so many things instead of you leaving me to stew all by my lonesome. You know you can never trust me to behave when left to my own devices.”

“Oh my god.” Now Leah’s weird behavior all day makes sense. Despite your hungover clinginess, your girlfriend’s been strangely despondent this morning. She hasn’t been actively cold or ignoring you by any means, she’s just been less like her normal touchy self since you’ve both woken up for the day. Her strange behavior was one of the reasons you sought solitude with Lia instead of throwing yourself into your girlfriend’s arms this morning. 

“It was you!” you whisper-shout, eyes wide with a mix of shock and impressivity. 

“What ever could you be accusing me of doing, babe?”

You should’ve known something was up when Leah didn’t try as hard as she usually does to keep you from going out last night. And you should’ve known she would have gotten up to no good in your absence. Your girlfriend rarely gets into mayhem-causing moods, but when she is in one, there’s no telling who’s safe. The last time she was in one, not even Keira, the one who helped set up half of Leah’s pranks with her, was safe. 

Since you denied Leah sex last night, it seems as if you, and by proxy Katie, are on top of her shit-list this time around.

She gives you a pat on the leg before shooting to her feet.

“All this because I didn’t have sex with you last night?” you whine, quick to scramble after to her. You were already kicking yourself for missing out on getting naked with Leah last night. But now she’s actively torturing you for doing so as well. “Katie’s literally going to be on my ass about this for at least the next week.”

“First off, that’s my ass. Tell her to back off. And second, a girl has needs. It’s not my fault you blew me off to go party last night. I’m just finding creative outlets to let off some steam.”

There’s a slight sparkle in her eyes that tells you Leah’s not actually mad. Though the mischief hasn’t left either, so you’re not sure if you’re quite so safe yet. Knowing your girlfriend, you still had a lot of things coming your way. 

“I swear, Leah,” you huff, an embarrassed blush already rising to you cheeks.

“What are you going to do, punish me?”

Your mouth drops open.

Leah’s skipping away with a devilish look and joyous giggle as you try your best to pick your jaw off the floor. 

Your girlfriend is going to kill you before the end of the day. You just know it.

Your thoughts are followed by you quickly ducking, barely avoiding the football aimed at your head. On second thought, maybe Leah’s not going to be the death of you. Katie might get there first.

[elysiumblue]

Pick a card - How you view yourself VS How others view you 😳

It's me with another pick a card general reading 😬 Decided to do a topic more that is more general to see what message will come through. The context of the reading is just as the topic. The spread I used is here.

This time, some message is really specific, so don't force it to fit your situation if it doesn't resonate at all. I may need to consider doing more piles next time to get more general messages 😭

👇🏻 Anyway, pick a color that you felt drawn to. 👇🏻

And find the corresponding reading for you below!

Pile 1

It seems that you have self esteem issues. You believe that you are less than others, but you are not working on bettering yourself. Instead, you are putting almost all your energy to comparing yourself to others, finding out how others are better than you. This puts yourself deeper in the problem. The lack of self esteem also makes it very difficult for you to make decisions, as you are always doubting yourself. You tend to wait for others to plan out your life.

Such problem may seems to be impossible to solve in your eyes, but others can see that such problem is not as worse as you think. They believe that it is more like an illusion, and you have the power to get out of it. You are not as doomed as you believe.

The negative mindset may be created as a coping mechanism for something happened in the past. It may be in your brain for years. However, it doesn't mean that you should let it define you. You need to search for the voices within you, instead of rejecting them. It is meaningless to make yourself suffer, and it is not helpful for your spiritual growth at all.

Taking yourself out of the equation is as bad as taking anyone else from the equation. You deserve to better, and the world is waiting for you to stand in your power. Try to make changes in your mindset. Put your happiness as a priority. It will guide you to remember who you truly are, and lead you to reach your highest potential. It may sounds difficult to do so now, but once you start working on it, you will find it very easy for you.

Pile 2

You probably just get out of some nasty stuff, maybe something like being deceived or betrayed. The energy of being hurt and questioning what was going on is still lingering. However, it seems that you have done a great job of withdrawing yourself from the situation! If you are looking at this reading to find confirmation on whether you have handled the situation properly, the answer is yes.

Instead of delving deeper into finding out why they did that to you, you took a leap of faith to get rid of the situation, or cut ties with those people who were sus. You recognize that thinking too much about the situation will only prolong the suffering from it, and that suffering is not that meaningful either. So, you accept the fact that sometimes bad things just happens.

Your decisiveness also grants you new perspectives on relationship in general, as you did not spend too much energy on what happened in the past. You try to earn something from this situation, by learning to recognize the red flags, heal from this kind of stuff, and even try to help others that are affected by similar situations with your experience.

It may be hard to believe, but others think that you're a badass in handing the situation! They believe that you are powerful, and they think that you know your worth. Even for those who may be hurt by your decision, they can't help but admire your boldness for a little bit. 😭 (Actually, I am impressed by your energy too when I am reading the cards 😬😭)

Pile 3

This pile probably has some unsupportive people surrounding you, especially unsupportive family members. If this is not what is happened to you, it may not be your pile, because I feel about this very strongly.

Due to the constant stress and negative feedback from your surroundings, you feel that you lack the ability to make good decisions, doubt everything you do, and some may even believe that you are set for failure. However, this is not true at all!

You are beautiful, admirable, and capable. You are unable to recognize it, but it is not your fault, as the negative mindset is what people feed into your brain. However, people failing you does not mean that you are a failure.

You have the quality to turn this around, and become the beautiful being you are supposed to be. All you lack is the mindset. You can start working on it by believing that you are worthy, and you deserve to receive blessings from the universe, or just good things in general.

Your haters are very nasty. They see your suffering, or know that what they are doing to you is hurtful, but they hope that you never get out of the pain. Some even believe that you don't deserve anything! I feel that they don't even want me to tell you that you're perfectly fine as I feel resistance in getting the message.

However, it is just their opinions, and we know that it is not what you truly are. Also, now you know where your negative mindset comes from. It's not from you! You can make a change, as you are not the problem. It sucks that your family is unsupportive, but their opinions are not the only opinion in the world. I can see that you will find a group that will celebrate you in the future, and receive the love and support that you deserve.

[liknws]

marry me [ksm]

⎯⎯ PAIRING: kim seungmin x reader/oc ⎯⎯ TAGS: angst, hurt no comfort ⎯⎯ RATING: 18+, mature ⎯⎯ WARNINGS: mentions of alcohol & drinking ⎯⎯ WORD COUNT: 2k (2,354)

⎯⎯ NOTES: i recommend listening to the song 'marry me' by thomas rhett while reading. this is from seungmin's point of view but still uses second person mentions of reader. gender isn't really mentioned but one small line of husbnd and wife is used.

she wants to get married, she wants it perfect she wants her granddaddy preachin' the service

You're sixteen and tipsy on a wine cooler you stole from your father's fridge the first time you tell Seungmin you want to get married. He laughs at you, saying the idea of marriage is stupid and a piece of paper and some stupid words won't change if a relationship is meant to be.

You're seventeen and suffering your first heartbreak when he tells you that guy would never had made you happy. He holds you close and promises you'll find the love you deserve one day when your heart is ready for it. He's sorry that you have to hurt like this first to know what real love will feel like.

It's the night before your eighteenth birthday when you tell him again how you want to get married. You want a big family, a happy life, and a house so full of love it's bursting at the seams. He almost tells you that he wants to give that to you, he'll carve out a life for both of you right this second if you'd let him. Instead he holds your hand as the clock hits midnight and wishes you a happy birthday.

It's six months later that you're packing up for university together, excited about this new chapter. Maybe your heart is ready for real love, adult love, eternal love. The love your parents had, the love your grandfather tells stories about. The kind of love that writes vows like novels and makes the love songs sound like scripture.

yeah, she wants magnolias out in the country not too many people, save her daddy some money

Maybe it's fate that it happens, that one day you both are out drinking after a horrible semester of classes when you stumble past the new wedding boutique. In the window is a gown that seems to have been made for you. He can picture you in it perfectly, the cream colored dress a perfect contrast to your skin and the brightness of your eyes. It's when he sees the train that he knows it'll be your dress.

The flowers are crafted into the hand-sewn lace with perfection. Magnolia flowers. You somehow convince the little shop owner to let you try it on. The fit is perfect without a single stitch to be made. You're heartbroken when you learn of the price. He buys it for you the next day and keeps it hidden until he's ready to tell you everything.

ooh, she got it all planned out yeah, i can see it all right now

Flowers everywhere, every surface that can manage will have flowers. The ribbons and sparkles will be understated, only meant to bring color and brightness. The flowers will be the main star of the show there. He knows exactly what it will look like, you've planned this day since high school and the ideas have barely shifted. You don't want flowers thrown down for you to walk on, you want twinkling fairy lights.

He knows that Minho will be in charge of catering the reception after, a change that was more recent as you came to know and adore him. You'll argue that is your wedding gift from Minho to you and your to-be husband. Everywhere will be reminders and tokens of your relationship with your lover, pictures hanging from the ceiling with the same twinkling lights illuminating the memories.

Felix will try to steal you for every dance he can. You'll cry during your father daughter dance, you'll cry more during the speeches. Your husband will hold you through all of it and it'll make sense why every place setting came with a small travel size package of tissues. You'll use up your own within the first hour, unable to keep from crying.

i remember the night when i almost kissed her yeah, i kinda freaked out, we've been friends for forever and i'd always wonder if she felt the same way

It's a party like any other, you and him arriving together and promising to leave together. You're spending the night at his place after this, the same agreement you always have after parties. His bed is a safe place so you're not scared of relaxing and letting loose. He won't let anything bad happen to you.

You've had almost too much to drink, surpassing your limit a while ago. He knows it's because of your breakup, because being dumped hurts you so much and makes you feel like the shittiest version of yourself. You believe that love is unconditional and that often gets you hurt.

He's got his arms around your waist, your back to his chest, swaying to whatever song is in your head. You complained it was cold outside, he had grumbled it was too hot inside and he would rather be out here with his friends. The compromise with you two is almost always like this. He wonders if you do this on purpose, just for this outcome.

You've turned your head to talk to him. He leans down to be able to hear you because even outside the music is too loud and the people are too close. He hugs you tighter to himself, worried you'll float away if he lets go. The boys give him a knowing look, he pretends to ignore them.

Your lips are right there, brushing against his cheek while you speak into his ear. You want to go home, you're tired and cold and something about wanting him all to yourself. He doesn't read into that, you've always been a little bit on the bolder side when drinking. He never holds what you say or do when drunk against you, even if he wishes he could.

He turns his head to say something but you haven't moved back. It's so close, he'd be a fool not to see the way you look at his lips and then back to his eyes. He does the same. He swears you lean in closer, he knows he does. But he's a coward when it comes to you and instead, he presses his lips to your forehead and says it's time to go home.

when i got the invite, i knew it was too late and i know her daddy's been dreadin' this day oh, but he don't know he ain't the only one givin' her away

He was the first one to know you were serious about this guy. He was the first one you told about moving in with him. He was there the day he got down on one knee and asked you the question that Seungmin has always wanted to ask. He even helped your soon-to-be-fiancé pick out the perfect ring. No one knows you better than him, so it was an obvious choice to ask for his help.

He picked out his own ring that day, something far less flashy and obvious. He carries it in his pocket all the time, thumb brushing over the soft velvet bag whenever he's nervous. Never a box, that was too obvious and too hard to keep hidden from you. If he couldn't keep the ring in the bag then it was around his neck where it would be safe always. Eventually he just kept it there, guessing it was easier. He doesn't admit that it's because the understated diamond ring sits next to his heart when he does.

Before all of that, he was there when your boyfriend asked for permission to marry you. The man had asked him, of all people, for the privilege to marry you. Your dad was quick to give his blessing, only wanting his daughter to be happy. Seungmin had forced a smile and clapped the man on the back. Teases him like any other time and jokes that he doesn't need permission because you love him.

i'll wear my black suit, black tie, hide out in the back i'll do a strong shot of whiskey straight out the flask i'll try to make it through without cryin' so nobody sees

Your picture perfect wedding was always going to have your best friend right next to you on that day, his silent and warm support keeping you on your feet. He would be there to encourage you and hold your hand if you needed. He would be there to hand you tissues he always had on him because he was tired of his shirt getting snot on it. He'd tease you with silent looks, making it hard to hold back your laughter if you were to catch his eye.

He pictures it differently now, at a distance rather than up close. On the outside looking in. The hole he leaves will be filled in, the space shaped for him will eventually mold to fit someone better.

yeah, she wanna get married but she don't wanna marry me

He watched you that night, when your boyfriend was down on one knee and holding out that very ring. He touches the one around his neck, hand dropping to his side when you look around at those watching. It's Christmas so everyone is here. All your shared friends, your family, your boyfriend's family even made it in for the surprise. A glutton for his own punishment, he'd help keep you out of the house just long enough for your future in-laws to arrive and get settled.

The proposal was beautiful. He was the right amount of nervous and elated, cheeks pink and ears burning. Down on one knee, he could only look at you and you could only look for Seungmin. With the smallest of nods, encouraging you to go for it, you finally gave the most anticipated answer. Everyone cheered but Seungmin wiped at the tears on his cheeks. Right then he knows you're going to make a beautiful bride.

bet she got on her dress now, welcomin' the guests now i could try to find her, get it off of my chest now but i ain't gonna mess it up, so i'll wish her the best now

He doesn't need to be there to know you're beautiful. No matter what you decided to wear, what colors you picked or what flowers you might be holding walking down the aisle. He knows you'll have that glow about you, the kind of shine that makes you brighter than the sun and more beautiful than any constellation in the sky.

He received the invitation months before the date, put it on the fridge at eye level so every day he could be reminded of it. A taunt to himself as he stared at the embossed page. Little magnolia flowers hidden in the cream paper.

He wonders who picked the date, if it means anything important to you both or if it was something that just worked out that way. It's a beautiful day out, the sun burned away the Spring's morning fog and the dew drops have left the greenery looking clean and sparkling.

You're wearing the dress, the perfect dress. He doesn't answer your questions about it. He didn't even give it to you in person, instead handing it off to your aunt in order for her to give it to you. It's stupid of him to assume you won't remember that night all that time ago. You never confronted him about the gift but he's happy to see that you're wearing your perfect dress on your perfect day.

so i'm in my black suit, black tie, hidin' out in the back doing a strong shot of whiskey straight out the flask i'll try to make it through without cryin' so nobody sees

He can't help but think that maybe he's dressed for a funeral. Laying to rest the love he has for you. Saying goodbye to his friendship with you, only he's the only attendee. He never can, he never will, but he'll try. He's the last to arrive, slipping into the back of the small crowd just before the vows start. He can't help but notice you're missing someone on your side, the numbers uneven.

Right, you always joked he would be your Man of Honor. Why didn't you have a cousin stand it or one of your other friends? He feels guilt that you'll have this gap there in your memories because of him.

yeah, she gonna get married but she ain't gonna marry me

There's no crunch of leaves or snapping of a twig that gives away his premature departure. There's no signal or sign or dramatic reveal that your best friend did show up, that he silently wished you all the happiness he could never provide, that he came to say his goodbyes.

His get away car is ready for him, Hyunjin waiting patiently for his friend to do what he needed and drive away. His bags are in the back, his one-way plane ticket to the other side of the world is freshly printed and tucked into the inside pocket of his suit jacket. Jeongin already has the keys to the apartment for him to move into over the weekend. He sold his car yesterday to pay for the ticket and his phone has been disconnected as of this morning.

At the end of the dusty dirt road, where the magnolia trees and the songbirds provide the perfect backdrop, he leaves his heart with you.

"Are you sure about this?"

It takes him a long time to answer. Hyunjin is patient, waiting for the final decision from his friend. Seungmin sits in silence, watching the road as if he's waiting for you to come running at him, like you even knew he was there.

You'll be happy with Chan, he'll give you everything Seungmin was always too afraid of. By the time his plane is in the air you'll have sealed your vows with a kiss and having your first dance as husband and wife. Soon the heartbreak of knowing he wasn't there will ease and you'll be okay.

"No- but I have a flight to catch."

⎯⎯ END NOTES: so this was meant to be a fic for @astraystayyh but i totally went the other direction with the fic idea that sahar shared because i just thrive on making other people cry i guess???? anyway i hope you enjoyed the fic and maybe i'll make the other version soon! and maybe if someone wants a different ending or part two or something i may be convinced to write it.

taglist:

@borahae-reads, @bettybeako, @katsukis1wife, @justletmehavethenamemarsomfg, @ylixbok, @eternitywaveshello, @pinkskzs