#and like Yes kim is wonderful and i love him so much. but he DOES also turn into a brick wall whenever someone wants to criticize cops | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

kingminie · 5 months

Text

until forever falls apart | 01.

pairing: kim taehyung, reader

genre: angst, exes au.

warnings: emotional cheating, infidelity, swearing, detailed smut, chain smoking as a coping mechanism.

word count: 11.8k

description: you’ve never been much of a believer in the phrase ‘first love never dies’ but it seems as if the universe badly wants to prove it to you — and you’re absolutely and royally damned the moment you find out that the phrase holds truth.

or alternatively, you come as a stand-in photographer for your cousin’s prenup shoot and you find out that it’s your secret ex who’s about to get married, and kim taehyung really doesn’t make it any less easy for you.

01 | ongoing.

Love has always been easy for you — both falling into or getting out of it, but more of the latter, really.

However, there are things about this so-called ‘love’ that you don’t quite get — will probably never get — and it leaves you in a sticky position when friends come to ask advice that roots from such a concept.

It always ends in a snotty mess and a sigh of I don’t know why I came to you for this at the end anyway. It makes you feel like shit; a clueless, ignorant, wondering piece of shit because how is it that everyone seems to have been looking at love and defining it from a single different lens with a unified perspective, and you’re stuck at seeing it from the other endpoint.

It isn’t your fault you don’t assimilate hurt with loving, is it? It isn’t your fault that you don’t expect to clean up a colossal mess every time love comes to its end. And it most certainly isn’t your fault that when love ends, you let it go. It ended, and that’s that. For you, anyway. So, why exactly, do people fault you for having such a reaction at the conclusion of a relationship?

Why does it seem to be a taboo and something that’s unheard of when a month after a relationship ends, you find yourself not grieving over a love that’s lost? When and why does it seem to have become the standard to mope and pine and cry as if acceptance and moving on is an outlawed concept right after a relationship ends?

That’s because you’re a heartless, unfeeling bastard, that’s why, as your best friend, Jungkook, so likes to put it every single time. And maybe, it is the defeat and the eventual acceptance that people will never see things in your perspective that you just roll your eyes and move on with your day.

Love, for you, is something that ends when it ends. A wound that closes, heals. It leaves a scar, sure. You remember the hurt, yes. But the initial peak of pain wouldn’t be there again if it healed, would it.

With all that, you’ve become unsure — of what to do, of what to say, of how to act — when people lament over a lost love. Which, at this very moment, is what exactly your sister is doing.

All tears, snot, and hiccups under your blankets.

Sobs wrack her body in an uncontrollable shake, a vibrating mess under the sheets as you’re left to wonder what the fuck to do with your hands. But you never get the answer because she wails, head lifting from the blankets, “How could he do that to me? Six years, six years! Six years he threw away for what, a year of meaningless sex with his assistant?”

You don’t really think it’s meaningless when dear, dear respectable Hyunwoo decides to break off the engagement, but you keep your mouth shut and continue to awkwardly pat your sister’s back.

Your hand stills just an inch away from her back when she looks at you, wet eyes and mouth set in a downward curve, and whispers, “What should I do now?” She sniffles and you flinch. Because her goddamn snot is staining your bed but fuck, okay, you can’t think about that now, “I love him.”

You hesitate, weighing the words you’re about to speak in your head and thinking about the consequences before settling for a question, “You–you’re not thinking about giving him another shot if he asks for it, are you?”

At this, your sister remains silent and you sigh because yes, yes she will give him a chance in one heartbeat if the bastard do so much as give her a fucking petal and a printed ‘I’m sorry’ hallmark note.

“You don’t get it.”

Ah, there it is.

Of course, it’s always going to come down to you not getting it.

Maybe your sister sees it, the anger bubbling in your gaze as you glare at her, because she scrambles to sit down with her legs underneath her, knees parallel each other as she kneels on the bed facing you.

And it would have been funny, seeing your older sister like this, but the searing exasperation breaks through and you let it, mouth opening, “No, you don’t get it. See, this is not just a matter of moving the fuck on. He fucked you over, Hana, so much that there’s no amount of apology or groveling he can do to fix that. He fucked his assistant when he’s due to walk down the aisle in a year with you and if that doesn’t spell out how much respect he has for you, for our family, and you still choose to remain blind despite that, then you came to the wrong person because I won’t coddle you.”

“I care about you,” your voice softens and you see her shoulders slump, “This is not just about my once-it-ends-then-it-ends view on relationships. Hyunwoo did an unthinkable, unforgivable thing and there’s no going back from that. I’m not letting you walk back to the person who lacks respect for a relationship, much less for you. Do you get where I’m coming from?”

Hana nods meekly, head hanging low before you hear her sniffle once more. It hurts to see her like this and you want nothing more but to pummel the son of a bitch who did this to her, “I’m sorry.”

You shake your head and you let out a breath, all air knocked out from your lungs when she slumps forward, arms snaking around your shoulders as she pulls you in for a tight hug, the phrase of ‘thank you’ and ‘sorry’ a litany on her tongue. You squeak as her legs slither their way around you in a tight grip and she lets out a weak laugh that sounded much more like a wheeze before you push her off, feeling a wet blot on your shoulder.

“I want to be you for a day. Not like you,” she mutters as she gets comfortable on the pillows, your pillows, “But be you entirely. I want this pain to vanish in a week and just forget about him.”

She pauses, “Maybe after I key his car.”

The pain doesn’t vanish, you think and tell her. “I just learned how to deal with it, Hana. And it isn’t overnight that I do it. And you will get over it too. Heal from it. Someday, one day.”

The silence that follows is comforting, and you think she must’ve fallen asleep, just as most do after a good cry. But she hasn’t, you realize, when she rolls over once more and speaks in a quiet voice, “The way you are right now,” she pauses, only continuing when you give her a nod, “is it because of him?”

There are only a handful of people that could fit about who she means, you know that, but you refuse to speak of any of them and opt to ask her a question instead, “Which way that I am exactly are you referring to?”

“The closed-off you,” Hana replies, a soft tilt to her words, “I had a theory, you know, that you moved on so fast from the relationships you had after because you were never really invested in the people after him. That he broke you, enough for you to place that, whatever you have around your heart that doesn’t allow people to hurt you. You love other people, but you never really allow them to love you as much because of it which makes detachment and parting easier when it ends.”

You don’t really mean to, but the words Hana speaks are like a vacuum, drawing you into a place you’ve managed to tuck away in the very back of your mind. Memories rush in and you drown in it — of honey blond hair, rectangle smiles, and skin that smelled of oakmoss and jasmine.

“Am I right?”

You let out a laugh as you nudge a pillow towards your sister, “You and your unending theories. No, Hana. It’s not because of anyone in particular. This is just how I am, how I think. It’s just unfortunate that it's only the minority that shares the same sentiments as I do.”

Hana looks as if she’d try to refute before deciding against it, groaning when her phone rings and you raise an eyebrow because who in hell would be calling her at midnight. She shakes her head, twisting the phone around so you can see who’s calling and you see the word Studio and you shrug before she takes the call, only hearing snippets of the conversation and it seems as if it's about work.

Hana owns a photography studio — a hobby turned business venture with her friends. Your parents were against it initially, deeming it a ‘not suitable’ business for Hana, but your older sister is a head-strong bull and proceeded with her plans without a single support from your parents and of course, because she’s Hana Park, she can make anything succeed if she puts her mind to it.

“—yeah, you goof, I’ll be right there, don’t worry. Why are you so stressed about this anyway, is this your secret wedding or something?” You lie closer to your sister and she mouths ‘Jimin’ before returning to picking her nails, “I get it, okay. Stop freaking out, I promise to be there tomorrow. M’kay, bye.”

She heaves a dragged-out, exaggerated sigh just as she tosses her phone on the bed where it bounced, “You know, I’d assume it’s our dear brother’s prenuptial photoshoot tomorrow with the way he’s freaking out over the details. I’d actually think that if I didn’t know of him and his single ass and his emotional attachment to his bachelor title.”

“It’s Sunday tomorrow, and you’re booked because of that phone call,” You list, “So I can only assume Jimin knows one of them and used his connections to book your exclusive ass into working on a Sunday.”

Hana laughs, “You’re not wrong. Soyeon made the reservation for November, which is like, a month from now. Jimin moved it for tomorrow in such a rush last week for reasons I don’t know why.”

“Soyeon?” You gasp, eyes going wide, “You’re not talking about Yang Soyeon, are you? Oh my god, how did I not know about this?”

Your sister snorts, ungraceful and loud, “Who would have expected for the youngest cousin in the family to be the first one to be wed, huh? Date’s set for April next year and I don’t even know who she’s marrying,” But she pauses and a frown mars her features, “I would’ve been the first one to walk the aisle and yet, here I am.”

Wait.

“Hana,” you start, “aren’t you meeting Hyunwoo’s parents tomorrow for brunch? To formally call off the wedding? Isn’t that what you came here for tonight, because you were having second thoughts of actually calling it off tomorrow?”

You see the realization dawn upon her, her eyes widening in recognition of the planned confrontation, her mouth dropping to a comical shape of the letter ‘o’ before she sits up so fast you actually ask if her back’s okay and you hear the frantic hits of her nails against the glass of her phone, the worry leaking thickly in her voice as she speaks to multiple people, all of which ending in a frustrated sigh and groan from your older sister.

“Fuck!” she screams as she disconnects from a call once more, “I can’t find anyone to replace me, everyone’s either booked already or have plans for tomorrow. Fuck, shit, I’m screwed. Jimin’s going to kill me. No photographer’s available tomorrow, what am I going to do now, I—you.”

You still, nailed in place by her stare, “Fuck are you looking at me for?”

It’s in this moment you feel the doom coming down on you from all the corners of the universe when Hana smiles, actually feeling it that you shiver. She picks up the phone, calls Jimin, asks if 10 o’clock is okay for everyone to gather tomorrow, kisses your cheek good night.

Kiss of fucking death, you feel like.

You’re never a morning person — nor do you have plans to become one — and you aren’t used to being awakened by a goddamn wet, slimy tongue licking your face all over.

Hana’s laugh echoes around your room, followed by hushed good job from her and a shrill bark from her dog (you really did not know how Orion arrived here when the dog wasn’t even here last night), and you are never one to have thoughts of murder so early in the morning but your family has really been testing your limits. But then you remember that you willingly handed over to Hana the passcode to your apartment, something for emergencies and shit like that, but of course, she took it as an invitation to come and go as she pleases.

Fortunately, she cleans up after Orion’s mess, thank god.

Rolling over, you prepare to squint as protection against the glare of the sun since Hana had already pulled back the curtains, but you sit up at the lack of the sun’s intrusion into your eyes and see that the sun hasn’t even risen yet. The city that you can see through the glass window is quiet, still in deep sleep. As you should be just before Hana woke you up.

“Dad’s going to have a fit when I tell him what you’re blackmailing me to do,” you groan, falling back on your pillow, “I’m running his business and here you are making me take photos of people Dad hates, well, by extension.”

Hana does nothing but flash you a grin, “You’re the only one I can trust to be on par with my skills, honey. Besides, I already have Dad booked in the freaking out area ‘cause you know, I’m a bachelorette now.”

You roll your eyes and you move off your bed, making it neat and tidy to which Hana scoffs before grabbing the mug of cold coffee right from her hands and chugging it all down. Looks like you’ll need more than a cup with what you’re going to be faced with today.

“Is Jimin coming? My car’s in the mechanic, I’m getting it tomorrow.”

Hana nods before telling you just how far Jimin is from your apartment, “About Jimin, actually.” Your sister trails off and you feel an oncoming headache because of course, there’s more.

“I didn't exactly tell him I can’t make it today so I’m trusting you to, um, calm him down when he freaks? He’s only weak to your charms and absolutely immune to mine.”

Turns out a little while after that, Jimin’s absolutely immune to the both of you. Especially you.

“No, what the fuck. What—no.”

Jimin stands frozen, fingers gripping the edges of the kitchen island. His eyes are wide, mouth open in disbelief as he listens to Hana’s explanations of why she can’t go today, her eyes flashing as if to call you for help but you only shrug because there’s really nothing you can do to help her out of this. She made her own bed, might as well let her lie in it.

It irks you quite a bit though when Jimin starts to become unreasonable despite Hana’s crystal clear explanation as to why she’s unavailable today, and on a typical day, you know Jimin would understand, and would easily let it go because obviously, Hana’s life matters take precedence over a photoshoot that can be scheduled on a different day. Jimin today, however, is extra adamant on not having you take over the shoot and it might have very, just very slightly struck the wrong nerve in you.

“You know, Jimin, if this is a matter of your trust in my abilities, I’d gladly back out of this. I’m doing this as a favor to Hana, I’m not here to help you,” you quip, tight and low as you regard the both of them, “So, if you refuse to accept my help, then call your friend to find another photographer, better yet schedule another one with Hana.”

Hana starts to protest but Jimin shakes his head, turns to you with soft eyes and a pouting set of lips, “I’m sorry, that came off wrong. Really wrong. I swear I wasn’t trying to undermine your abilities, nor am I saying that there is anything to undermine because you’re good as shit at this, maybe even better than Hana, it’s just that—”

He cuts off his ramble mid-sentence as if to catch himself — to keep from spilling whatever his reservation about you being the stand-in for Hana, which you don’t really know what.

Three things about Jimin are these: he rambles when he’s extremely nervous, fidgets with his thumbs when he’s scared, and refuses to make any eye contact if he believes he’s done something wrong. It’s always one of the three when it comes to him and never altogether. And yet, he stands in front of you, doing all three simultaneously and your heart plummets to the marble flooring beneath you because what is he so scared of, really, to be like this in front of you.

“Look, if you don’t want me to do this, that’s okay,” You start to speak and Jimin turns to you and opens his mouth to speak when you shake your head. You aren’t finished speaking, “That is, if you have an alternative, if Soyeon agrees to reschedule, I’m sure Hana can fit them right in some other time—” You give a pointed look at your sister who rolls her eyes but nods, “—but if they don’t, you have no choice, Jimin. Unless you want to take the photos yourself.”

Jimin lets out a breath, agrees, and proceeds to call whoever he needs to and converses in a low tone that isn’t discernible to you, but Hana can hear and your eyebrows furrow in concern when her head turns so fast towards Jimin’s direction, panic clear-cut in her eyes as she picks up on whatever it is that Jimin is saying. She curses under her breath, turns ghostly pale before she pulls Jimin into one of the guest rooms, leaving you to your thoughts and your second cup of coffee.

“You kept this?”

It’s a good three minutes after that Jimin’s voice pulls you out of your trance — your attention previously held by the large black ant that is now on top of an apple. You turn and your breath hitches at the rough sketch of the overly-familiar Pomeranian in his right hand. You shrug, “Jungkook must have left it there when he came over.”

At this, Jimin raises his eyebrows. Stares at the picture a little bit too long before putting it back in place, under Jungkook’s purple-pink painting of a sunset, to the right of Jimin’s present two years before. He then looks at you, really looks at you, that you become unnerved enough to look away and pretend to busy yourself with some imaginary dust on the counter.

You know. You know how the framed sketch is too clean, too in place, and too taken care of to be something that your best friend accidentally left behind. And you know Jimin knows this too with the way his eyes turn to you and you fear. Fear that pity would be reflected in them and so you stand abruptly, deaf to the frantic calls of Hana and you head straight to the building basement and settle comfortably on the passenger seat of Jimin’s car.

You ran because you’re a coward — afraid to face questions you know you have no answers to.

Jimin enters not a minute later, silent and mum, but the silent looks your sibling keeps giving you is not something you miss no matter how discreet he tries to be about it. You brush it off though, citing the tense atmosphere to be the reason he’s doing so.

But little do you know that this is the first of the many mistakes you will be making — the tiniest among all others.

The theme is simple. Glamour, editorial-esque Vogue-spread motif. Fit for the rich. Something that exudes elegance and opulence. Classy, simple, and elegant. You nod as you skim through the print-out Hana rushes to get to you through one of her employees, one hand busy writing ideas and suggestions.

It warms your heart that despite all the things Hana has to face today, she hasn’t failed to make everything easier for you, as she always does. And everything’s in accordance, just as they should be. That is, except for one, someone. Jimin really cannot stop himself from shaking and you actually fear the poor boy is turning into a leaf, dancing in the wind, with how he physically cannot stop himself from moving.

You’ve had enough of it — his nervous fidgeting, the frantic scan of his eyes among the crowd, the unending bounce of his knees — so you move to approach him, just in time to pluck out the cigarette he’s about to light in his hand and he jumps, “Minie, you’re making me nervous here. I’ve seen you nervous but it’s never been this bad.”

Jimin looks at you and your chest constricts at the face he’s making. A beat, two beats before he lets out a shaky breath, “I’m sorry.”

You think of the exchange back at your apartment, the one where it came off as if he had no faith in you as Hana’s substitute and you let out a small laugh. You know Jimin would never think that. Flicking his chin, you shake your head, “It was me who took your words the wrong way, Min. You don’t need to apologize.”

He looks as if he wants to say more but a car pulls up, red and ostentatious with the way the roof is folded down, and you grin as you see your cousin, a matching upward curve to her lips.

It isn’t new, really, when you catch sight of her hair — beautiful shades of cotton candy pink and pastel blue glinting under the sun.

Beautiful, daring Soyeon, the darling of the Yangs.

You nearly meet your end, though, that day if it isn’t for Jimin cursing and pulling you back when Soyeon isn’t able to stop her car at the designated yellow parking line and she too squeaks a wheeze when she steps on the brakes. The car comes to a stop, and you see her breath does too, before she throws her head back and laughs.

“You’re fucking crazy.”

She sticks out her tongue before she jumps over the door, her flimsy taupe pants billowing after her. You only manage to let out a yelp of protest before she has you and Jimin in a bone-crushing hug and you feel your chest rasp to get some air in when she squeezes once more before finally letting go.

“This is a two-people marriage we’re having today, right? You’re not marrying yourself here?” You ask and laugh as she rolls her eyes. It’s definitely her thing and it wouldn’t be a surprise if she did. “I didn’t even know you were in a relationship and now you’re getting married?”

She shrugs, a wide smile still on her lips, “It just happened,” Her eyebrows furrow when she looks over at Jimin who’s uncharacteristically silent and nudges him, “I still won’t forgive you. I know my groom’s your best friend but it doesn’t really give you a free-pass to have him here at six in the morning to get you coffee. Who does that?”

You don’t really hear what Jimin has to say to her because you’re bidding your goodbye to them both when one of Hana’s assistants — the one she had assigned to brief you over all the details of today’s shoot — pulls you from the conversation, apology written all over her face at the thought of interrupting you but as soon as she open her mouth to speak, you dismiss it with an its okay and you signal for her to go ahead.

“This is the final list of the concepts Hana had brainstormed which one of the client is yet to choose from,” she hands you a thin stack of paper, a portfolio sandwiched between two clear binding covers, “The bride has already chosen the concepts she wants that are to be included for today’s shoot, so, all that's left is to hand the checklist to the groom for the shoot next week.”

Nodding, you skim through the portfolio and shit, it’s definitely good.

You’re whisked away towards the building, directed towards the seventh floor of the rented building in which you’re told Soyeon’s groom is, handpicking his outfits for the day.

You give the door a knock, hearing a bustle of people talking on the other side of the door, and when no one answers, you push the door open. You’re immediately greeted by a flurry of people walking back and forth, all of them either with stacks of paper in their arms or Brioni and Gucci suits in tow.

It’s a mess, a downright mess you want to run from because you haven’t ingested enough coffee to face this.

Which is exactly why you nearly cry when someone steps in front of you, a neat smile in place and a large cup of iced coffee in one hand, a hand extending towards you, “You look like you need this.”

He tilts his head once, gesturing inside the room, “I’m Yoongi, Min Yoongi. Jimin texted me earlier that his other sister is standing in for Hana and I assume that’s you.”

Something feels vaguely familiar about Min Yoongi and you list it off as a passing name Jimin had mentioned in the stories he had told you.

“There’s a meeting room on the very far left, grumpy groom’s there,” Yoongi smiles, “Nice meeting you, um—”

“(Y/N). My name’s (Y/N), nice to meet you too, Yoongi.”

You think as you walk that there’s no point in going over next week’s concept today since Hana can already make it by the next photoshoot and she would’ve understand better the dynamics of it all if they talk then, but okay, since you’re already here, might as well help all the way.

Through the frosted glass of the meeting room, you see a silhouette, tall and broad. You have never been a people-person and meeting new ones really isn’t your strong point so you take three deep breaths, hand tightening on the cup of coffee Yoongi handed you, before pushing the glass door open.

“Hi, I’m sorry I ran a bit late. It’s—”

And you stop.

You stop because you suddenly can’t feel the cold cup slipping from your grip. You stop because you feel the liquid pool at the very bottom of your shoes, sticky and wet and messy. You stop because you can’t breathe. You stop because your heart fucking stops too at the sight of Kim Taehyung.

Beautiful, dazzling Kim Taehyung.

First boyfriend, first love, now ex-lover, Kim Taehyung.

Soyeon’s groom and soon-to-be husband, Kim Taehyung.

“Everything okay here?” Yoongi. You hear his footsteps behind you before you see him and you can’t be thankful enough at the interference that’s very much needed.

But you allow yourself to be pathetic, just as you always are around Kim Taehyung. And because you can’t help it, frankly, when your eyes meet his and all sense that is good and common jumps out the window behind him. Because he looks fucking beautiful — him and his honey hair that’s now framing his face, a little bit longer, lighter. Because the room reeks of him, jasmine, vanilla, and oakmoss and it consumes you. The part of you that, despite it all, still longs for the Kim Taehyung from four years past.

On a good day and you meet him once more, you think you would have laughed. A fake smile and a head held high would’ve done it in front of him. But all it takes is one look now. One look, at the time when all your defenses are down, for the self-imposed chain that blocks it all to break and give, a domino effect in your mind as it all comes back; the whirlwind of feelings and emotions that the calamity of him brings forth.

You nod, feeling the light touch of Yoongi’s fingers around your arm, and you anchor yourself with it. Pull yourself from drowning in him once more. “Yeah, sorry,” You breathe, “It slipped. I’m really sorry.”

“No, no, it’s okay. I’ll have someone take care of it, don’t worry,” Yoongi waves you off when you bend down to start cleaning up your mess, nods toward Taehyung, “Go on, he gets grumpy if he’s left to wait.”

Oh, you know.

So, you do.

You drag your legs to where Taehyung stands, feeling like you’re hauling wet logs for limbs. It’s silent, save for the sound of Yoongi’s shoes against the floor as he kicks at the fallen blocks of ice, and maybe, he takes the silence for Taehyung’s bout of pettiness because he hisses a quiet behave before he walks out. The silence becomes even more suffocating when now it’s just you and Taehyung.

“So—”

“I—”

You shut your mouth when he speaks at the same time as you.

You decide, though, to continue because you’re here for one thing and that one thing entails that you have something to say to him. But he doesn’t, he shouldn’t.

“So, let’s talk about concepts. I’ve been told that Soyeon has already chosen the ones for today — for both your individual and couple shots, and you get to choose the ones for the shoot with Hana next week. Here,” you slide the portfolio across the table, taking a seat across his own without waiting for him, “Hana already made an outline for everything so, this, is basically a checklist you just have to choose from and—”

“How are you?”

“—I’m just going to wait until you’re done filling them out so I can bring them back and start with—”

“(Y/N).” You finally look at him then and you look away the second you do because you’re trying so hard to keep yourself whole and you feel like one second more in his gaze and you’ll fall apart, “I’m sorry.”

And you try. God, you try so hard to repress the tiny, evil voice that pushes you to throw reason out the window. But it comes out anyway, and there’s no stopping what flows out of your mouth after, “Why,” you laugh, “Sorry because you wouldn't have chosen Hana's studio if you knew I was the one to take your photos? Or sorry because you had my brother acting like a train wreck just to keep this from me? Don’t worry I won’t be here next week.”

His face pinches, tongue rolling out to wet his lips, “I didn’t mean it like that.”

“Then don’t apologize to me—” you grit, fists clenched and heart thundering, “—as if you assumed that seeing you has put me in a position that hurt me. Because it really doesn’t. Not anymore, Taehyung. So if you have anything to apologize for—”

You cut yourself off because no, no he has nothing to apologize for. He doesn’t have to say sorry. One person deciding to walk out of a relationship doesn’t warrant an apology from them. An explanation, sure, but you don’t really need it from him. He made it clear enough all those years ago just before he slammed the door of your apartment shut that he just didn’t love you enough — not anymore then.

It’s been four years. It’s been four long years and you should be over him — and you are, you’re certain that you are. But it doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt because it does, fuck, it still hurts so much and you don’t know why.

“—apologize to Jimin because I just know he feels like shit for lying to me because of you.”

You commit your second mistake that same day in the middle of shooting Taehyung’s individual photos. Soyeon had gone for a nature theme this time and so you find yourself in the middle of the forest with a near-naked Taehyung in tow and thank heavens it rains because one more glimpse through the viewfinder at his well-oiled torso and you might have combust and run away from the photoshoot, Hana’s reputation be damned.

Jimin seems to be attached to you now, becoming a human magnet not long after he had apologized so much he knelt, snuggling to your side every chance he gets that it’s suffocating you because he’s overcompensating but you don’t really have the heart to call him out. Not when he looks like a puppy whose tail got accidentally stepped on when you get around to even do so much as try.

So, you let him become your shadow for the time being, finally letting out a huge breath of relief when lunch time comes around and everybody takes a break and you slip past him to the very back of the dilapidated cabin you stumbled upon just before the last shoot ended, not too deep into the forest that faces the river.

Finally, you think, as you savor the peace, even though momentary. You’re glad to be away from the commotion and it makes you realize once more why you choose to be cooped up in an office. It’s because you really can’t handle this many people and it physically and emotionally drains you that you can’t think.

You pause when you reach into your pockets, the gritty warning from Hana and Jimin an alarm ricocheting in your mind how it’s an unhealthy habit and it’s going to fucking ruin you someday. But the short-lived guilt is replaced by justifications of how it’ll be a free-pass and your siblings can fuck off because they’re the reason you’re here in the first place.

Besides, burning through one stick won’t hurt them if they don't know.

So you let your fingers feel for the familiar leather case, pull the only stick inside and you’re so, so close to reaching your sweet release from this damned mental pressure when you realize you left your lighter at home. Letting out a curse, you clamp your mouth around the unlit cigarette, letting it hang and opting to indulge in its semi-sweet smell that goes so well with the rain.

“Want a light?”

You still, the cigarette falling from your lips at the sudden fright. Down, down, and down until it’s washed away by the rain. What a waste, you lament. Sighing, you turn and see Taehyung who’s sporting a sheepish smile, the same familiar white in between his own mouth, lit unlike yours, “I’d accept, but there’s really nothing that needs lighting anymore.”

He has a shirt on now, you notice, flimsy and buttoned up halfway. His hair is tousled messily, now free from the rigid form it previously had, and you give him your back when you feel the urge to fix the fraction of hair that has fallen forward. You hear him take a drag and you smell before you see the tendrils of gray smoke when he releases and god, the small whiff, even in the tiniest fume, has your shoulder relaxing.

“I’d offer one but I don’t have any spare with me,” you hear him say before you feel him move, “I’ll get the fallen one for you, if you want.”

You roll your eyes and wave him off before you see him lean against the other column, the change in position means that he’s now closer, closer than he’s ever been since the day you last saw him, years ago. And he’s close enough that the thin material of his shirt brushes against your hoodie when the wind moves. And you want to move too, only if it isn’t for the fact that one move and you’ll either fall into the river or be skewered by the worn down wood and you don’t really feel like dying today.

Ironic, how you went for a smoke break to relieve the stress of the day, only to have it doubled.

Now, this is where you make the second mistake.

Because you really don’t mean to stare at Taehyung. You don’t mean to let your stare at his mouth linger a second too long that he sees. It’s just unfortunate that the cigarette is in his mouth, and you stay fixated on the damn cigarette that you fail to see him catch your gaze and hold it.

It’s unfortunate that you don’t take a step back when he takes one step forward.

It’s unfortunate that you become pliant when his cold fingers softly grip your chin, coaxing your mouth to open and welcome the smoke that he blows from his own mouth, hot and intoxicating and tinged with the memories of all the nights past that he’s done this.

It’s unfortunate that you take a long drag when he places the soft end of the cigarette from his mouth to yours, unhesitating and eager.

“Feeling better?” He asks, gentle as he pulls the stick, planting it back to the hold of his mouth. You see a slight upward curve at the corners of it.

This is bad. Wrong and unacceptable and absolutely inappropriate, you know. But you can’t help but accept when he offers one more drag, an offer of release. This time you pluck it out from his fingers, feel the warmth of him around the smoke, and inhale.

It’s only when the embers die out that you feel it, the heavy feeling coming back tenfold as you realize the gravity of what you just did. Not for anyone else, but for you. The toll this will have on you when you go home and have all the time in the world to think about your stupidity. So before you get sucked into the void of self-destruction, you excuse yourself, not caring about the delicate drops of rain that fall but not before you turn back and shout your thanks.

“Okay, you shared a smoke, so what,” you mutter to yourself as you dry yourself off. You’re two people who share a history, a history that’s now dead and gone. A flame that was once bright but has now burned out, never to be rekindled again.

You enter the building with thoughts of rationalization that tries to justify what you’ve done as something harmless, clouding your mind enough that you don’t see Jimin barrel towards you with a smile on his face, only to be replaced with disgust when he breathes and chokes at the ghost of smoke that clings to your clothes.

He rummages through a nearby luggage and returns with a bottle of perfume, “If you want your head still attached to your shoulders by tonight, you’d know better and douse yourself in that shit because Hana’s here to take over and you only have two minutes to shove Listerine down your throat before she finds you.”

In the haste of trying to avert your sister’s wrath, you damn near shower the entire contents of the bottle, only to realize that night when you come home that despite the endless showers you take, you still smell like him. Because of all people, Jimin just had to take from Taehyung’s things and now you’re doused with him all over again.

It’s later that night that you’ll fall asleep to the smell of jasmine and vanilla despite years of trying so hard to rid your apartment of any scents.

Of any trace of Kim Taehyung.

The third and fourth mistake, you make five days later. A Friday that you’re miraculously off work early. Well, technically, you can get off whenever you want but as the faithful, loving, and overworking youngest child that you are, you’ve assimilated longer hours at your father’s company to productivity and so you’ve never really found reason to clock off early when you can do so much more if you stay a bit later than most.

Besides, the company won’t run by itself, so there’s that.

Now, though, you wonder why you thought like that because as you walk down the street, everything looks divine. The setting sun settles on the horizon, sandwiched between two skyscrapers, bleeding purple and orange and pink and it’s breathtaking. Painfully so. For the first time, you indulge yourself in the sounds of the busy city and for a change, it’s peaceful despite the loudness. You can’t remember the last time you took a stroll like this, having been so immersed in work. The last time you walked down the street the like had been years ago, with—

The breath you take is sharp and sudden that it has you bent over on the sidewalk, coughing and wheezing your lungs out that people start to look. You flash a smile, sending a quick thanks to your sister’s ex-lover for choosing to establish the studio within a five-minute walk from the company building, and nearly combusting on the spot when you pull their glass door that clearly says push right after you nearly heave your lungs out from climbing 10 sets of stairs because the elevator isn’t working, coincidentally.

“Hey,” you greet the people on the lounge before specifically turning to Younha — the one who had walked you through everything on the previous shoot, “Is Hana here? I have the initial photos ready if she wants to see. Played around and edited most of them.”

Younha looks sheepish as she raises her hand to her nape where she nervously scratches, “About that,” she grimaces, “Hana phoned earlier that she’s running a bit late tonight so she told me to look over the photos and pick the final ones with the client, but I don’t trust myself enough to do that just yet, so would it be okay if we go through it together?”

You assure her it’s okay. And really, it is, because you’ve finished work anyway and it’s a Saturday tomorrow. You can afford to be late an hour or so. You watch her plug the USB on one of the computers lined up against the wall, see her gasp when she pulls up the photos.

“Oh my god, these are beautiful. You’re telling me you shot each of these by yourself, edited them all on your own, all in less than a week,” Younha turns to you, eyes wide, “Can’t you come and work with us?”

You laugh, genuine and loud, “The raw files were already beautiful untouched. Just touched up some lighting here and there.”

“Yeah, and who took those raw shots, hm? Who coordinated every single thing that resulted in those shots looking like that? You, that’s who,” Younha seems to realize who she’s talking to and she blushes before muttering something else you can’t hear, “Also, about Hana—”

Uh-oh. This can’t be good.

“—so she told me earlier if I can pick out the final photos with the client, right? And since you’re here,” Younha trails off and you still there is no way, no way that you’re going to sit hours dissecting each photo with Soyeon, worse if it’s Taehyung. You have your pride and you’ll cling to that even if it’s the last thing you do in this world.

No way in hell. “Hana’s on her way here, right? I think she can make it.”

Younha nods, a low hum before she answers, “She can. In two hours. Maybe. Not sure. Our client, however—” She tilts her head to the right. Towards the direction of Hana’s office. “—is here.”

It’s a sigh of defeat you let out. Walking away from here means you admit you’re a coward, walking in Hana’s office will mean you’re weak. See, it’s always a lose-lose thing for you everytime a certain Kim is involved. The very, and only, Kim who seems to be haunting every part of your daily life the past five days. Or in this current case, a future Kim but a Kim nonetheless.

Younha smiles, the sly fox, when you place your bag back down on the table, “If I’m going to stay here for the night, might as well ask for coffee. Lots and lots of it.”

You only barely get the full sentence out but Younha is already on her heels with a mock salute.

You push the door to Hana’s office, making sure (twice) not to pull this time, and your eyes land on Kim Taehyung whose eyebrows rise in surprise upon seeing you. If he thinks you’re meaning to keep on meeting him like this, well, he’s wrong. The universe likes to spring surprises down your path of life and it just so happens that for now, Kim Taehyung might be its play thing — to torment you with, most probably.

He sits on the couch that rests against the white wall, beside the windows that occupy the whole one side of the room that overlooks the city. Hana’s office is more like her office and a miniature studio, exclusive for her and whoever she decides to let in here, separate from the lounge and the main studio. It’s an industrial loft, made modern and more suited to her taste and it’s just so goddamn bright in here, you realize.

“Sorry to keep you waiting,” you mutter as the door clicks shut behind you.

You head straight to Hana’s computer, turning it on and plugging the USB before you plop down on the office chair. “I had the photos with me and I dropped by to leave it for Hana but she apparently has things to attend to for the next two hours and you’re here already so, yeah.”

Taehyung only nods, silent and awkward when he stands.

You sigh, “Grab a chair and come here, I guess. We have, like, a thousand photos to sift through. See if you’d like any changes done to them. The earlier we finish, the better.”

Three hours pass after that and you’re left with no Hana in sight, 325 file numbers listed down, a faint headache and tired eyes, a hungry stomach, and three accidental brushes of Taehyung’s hair on your cheek because what before is a ruler-long distance between the two of you has been reduced to mere centimeters, and Jesus Christ, you don’t know who moved between the two of you that it has come to such. You’re firm to say it isn’t you because your ass remains frozen, stiff as a board everytime Taehyung does so much as inhale.

“Can you—” Taehyung clears his throat, pointing to the keyboard, “—move to the next one, please.”

You mutter an apology, pressing the right arrow and you see the photo move. Frankly, you aren’t paying attention. Not to anything, least of all the photos. It’ll be like knocking consciously on Hell’s door if you do pay attention.

Because you can take being around Taehyung, you can easily detach yourself from reality when you are — and not feel anything, to look at him alone and think of him as an ex-friend, an ex-lover without the rest of the titles attached. But to look at the photos, the pictures you took, there’s no detaching from that reality. The reality that the man you had feelings for — might still have feelings for, but you push that thought back — is getting married, of all things.

And you list this off as feeling weird, an ex marrying a cousin. You aren’t jealous, god, no. It’s just that — weird. Well, you think.

“Okay, I can’t take this anymore,” Taehyung breathes and you still, unmoving as the statue on the corner of the room, “I’m going to order Chinese. I’m not going to last the rest of these photos if I don’t eat. Anything you want?”

He might as well have slammed the mouse he’s holding with the way he casually lets it fall off from his hand to the table, leaning back on his chair and oh god, his head is leaning on the back of your chair. One move of your shoulder and the back of it will touch the side of his head. He has his phone over his head, elbows hanging in the air as he opens his phone with a click. He hums as he scrolls and this is so, so painfully domestic that you struggle to breathe.

It’s been push and pull the whole night. He asks, you answer, and never the other way.

Fifteen minutes that you’re plunged in deafening silence and you punch the air in your mind when Younha knocks, take-away bags at hand and a smile on her face.

Taehyung hands you your food, places the utensils in neat order, pokes the straw through your bubble tea and gently places it in front of you and you stare. You stare because never in your life did you ever think you and Taehyung would ever be in this situation. Toeing around each other, walking on eggshells.

There had been a time that silence wasn’t an option — it’s either you filled the quiet or he did; mouths off about Pokemon and stickers and dogs he met on a certain day, or silence filled with wordless communication through flesh and skin and heavy breaths.

Never this — a fragile silence that no words could ever fill. But of course, Taehyung knows how to break that. Break you when he speaks, “I think we’ll have this one framed for the reception.”

You blink at the photo on the monitor, big and taunting. In it, Taehyung smiles, a wide rectangle stretch of his mouth as his chin rests on top of Soyeon’s head, the latter leaning her weight on Taehyung. It’s evident, palpable even, the happiness that’s shared between them. A running joke between the two of them captured on a permanent photograph only they can understand.

“Yeah,” you nod, a smile, or an attempt at it, stretching your lips, “it’s beautiful. Definitely worthy for the reception. You can hang it in your home after.”

It’s an instinct – you’d like to believe so – when you feel Taehyung move beside you and you mindlessly mirror him, freezing the moment you take in the miniscule space that’s left as you both huddle to look at the monitor. A good couple inches you can count on one hand. And you refuse to move away because no, this is not at all affecting you. And it’s Taehyung, you justify, who’s currently invading your space.

The third mistake is when you try to steal a glance at the corner of your eye because you think he’s engrossed with the picture.

But then you see that he isn’t. Not when his stare locks with yours the moment your eyes move. Had been on you all this time.

The fourth is when he moves and you don’t.

Not when his thumb brushes the corner of your mouth to wipe whatever it is he sees there.

Not when he flashes you a smile – something so fond and warm and tender that renders you mute.

Not when he succumbs to sleep an hour later, head lolling on your shoulder.

But the entire world moves when he stirs and the overhead lights hit something golden. It crumbles and caves beneath your feet when a locket falls out of the top of his loosely buttoned shirt. An identical locket to the one that now sits heavy on your chest – once heavy with the broken promises, but now empty of the love that first came with it.

You see his forehead wrinkle as he slowly wakes and you feel the start of the burn that first settles on your chest before it moves and starts from the corners of your eyes. You train your eyes on the monitor, fingers clicking away on the mouse and the keyboard faster than ever.

“I’m sorry,” you hear him say. His head stays on your shoulder as he speaks. “What time is it?”

“Quarter before ten—”

“I missed you,” he breathes and you hear him let out a soft laugh before he whispers, “I always miss you.”

It feels as if all the air in your lungs has been knocked out and you turn to speak when you see that he’s fallen back asleep. And god, you wanted to shout at him, let out the years of pent up frustration and grudge you’ve had all these past years and ask all the unanswered whys and hows. But looking at him now, after so, so long, you realize you do too.

A tear drops and a multitude of realizations follow.

You missed him. You missed him. You miss him.

And fuck, you’re still in love with him, you realize. So much and enough to make you not think of the consequences of the realization that you do.

Not when his fiancée finally comes and places a chaste kiss on his lips.

Not when a wedding invitation lands itself on the desk towards you.

And especially not when the ghost of him lingers when they’re gone and you find yourself praying for it to stay just a little bit longer.

You did not plan for your Friday night to be like this at all.

The initial – and final – plan was this: show up to the club your sister wanted you to show up to, make it look like you’re genuinely happy to be there, flee the moment midnight hits when your sister and her friends are too drunk to realize you aren’t there anymore, and sleep away in the solace your tranquil and quiet apartment offers.

The night and plan had been going well, much to your delight.

Just until the fleeing part, that is. Because the moment you press the unlock button to your car half past one in the morning, you see a very drunk Kim Taehyung eagle spread on the hood of your car, with only a rumpled halfway-buttoned shirt that’s tucked into his pants, one of his shoes already on the roof of the Mercedes.

And so instead of proceeding to the sleeping part of your plan, here you are now, struggling under the weight of Taehyung as you try to push in all his limbs in the passenger seat because he refuses to go away. Why, of all people, must you be the one to find him like this? Other people would’ve paid no mind leaving him on the pavement but of course, the universe had to make sure it just had to be you because old, cruel fate had it out for you and your demise.

Two weeks spent in isolation from the rest of the world in an attempt to justify and get over the realization you had of still being in love with an ex and the world just dumps him in the hood of your car of all cars.

“Kim Taehyung, I am not above violence, I will fucking knock you out if I have to if you step your foot out and kick me once more, for the love of god,” you heave, “Are you with Jimin?”

At this, he grins and nods, eyes half-closed, “Jimin went home. I think. Or wait, maybe he’s passed out in Yoongi’s tub. I think. I don’t know, do you think he’s still here? Wait, do you know Jimin? How do you know Jimin?”

You sigh, “Give me your phone. I’ll get Soyeon to pick your ass up.”

Taehyung lets out a loud gasp, proceeds to choke on air before he looks up at you, “How do you know my girlfriend?”

You pause for a second before rolling your eyes, “Phone.”

“It’s in my left pocket, can you get it for me? I’m so tired,” he whines, wincing as his head lands on the head rest. You reach over to pull his phone out, only to retrieve a pack of cigarettes but no phone. You freeze when his hand grips your wrist that’s still in his pocket, feeling your heartbeat in your ears when he leans forward, so close that you feel his breath on your cheek, “Butt pocket, sorry.”

You take a deep breath as he continues to look at you with a grin. You move closer, angling your head away because you would be fucking cheek-to-cheek if you don’t and you pause just before you touch his back pocket, “No, you know what, you can get it yourself. Either that or I leave you out here on the streets.”

Taehyung pouts but he moves his arm behind him nonetheless, proceeds to feel his other pocket when he finds the first one empty.

“My phone’s gone,” he huffs, “Oh! It’s in Minnie’s car!”

You let out a loud groan, rounding the car to open the driver’s side to look for your bag so you could use your phone and you let out another sound of frustration, louder this time, when you remember the picture of a beige bag being left underneath your couch’s pillow. You look over at Taehyung, a war in your head as to what to do with him, before you finally settle on the choice that you never, ever think you would’ve made.

“Fine,” you grit as you turn the engine on, “I’m going to drop you off your house but I’m not gonna be held accountable for the reasons you’re going to have to explain to your girlfriend if she greets your drunk ass as to why the fuck her cousin’s dropping her fiance off, alright? Now, are you still staying in the same apartment ‘cause I’m going to drop you–”

Taehyung snores, body folding in on himself as he slightly shivers. You sigh, dropping your forehead on the steering wheel, enough to hurt and make the horn whine, “This is fucking unbelievable. I can’t believe I’m doing this.”

“Hey, Taehyung,” you shake him, poking his shoulders the way you know he hates, “Wake up and tell me your address, asshole. I’m not driving to the other side of the city only to find out you changed address. Hey.”

He makes the tiniest wave of his arm before he goes back to sleep.

You glance at the clock that says it’s now nearing three in the morning and you run your hands over your face because fuck this.

Now, you head to your apartment with the plan of just dumping Taehyung in the foyer and letting him sleep there until he has his mind back in the morning – you figure he’d probably run off the minute he wakes up.

“Hey, wake up.” You nudge him when you arrive and you sigh once more as he merely stirs, opening his side of the door before attempting to move out of the car only to heave when the seatbelt he still has on pulls him back.

With a grimace, you round to his side and lug one of his arms around your shoulders and basically carry all of his weight towards the elevator. You give a tight smile to the staff at the reception as you pass by, dismissing the offer of help. You nearly drop to your knees as soon as the elevator doors close, exhaustion flooding you all of a sudden.

As soon as the door opens to the penthouse, you remove your hold on Taehyung and he slumps against the wall. You let out a breath before pushing him to one of the guest rooms where he immediately plops down on the bed after knocking his shoes off. A small smile plants itself on your face and you reach over to pull the covers over him.

Kneeling down on the floor beside the bed, you brush off the loose hairs that cover his face and you whisper, “You’re making it so hard for me.”

Deciding that you’ve helped him enough, you head to your room to change and shower – a long bout of internal battle against yourself as you try to wash off all that happened.

It is an hour later when you’re already in your bed, tossing and turning that you find yourself a long way from sleep, and so you push the covers off of you to head towards the kitchen to find something to drink. The sun is starting to rise, you see, as you stare at the large windows, uneasy at the thought that Taehyung is there. Here.

And you know you shouldn’t care anymore. You’ve done enough and beyond to help him, you remind yourself. But that doesn’t matter, really, because here you are, pushing the guest room open to check on him, a bottle of water in hand. He remains as he was the second he got here and you sigh as you pull one of Jungkook’s shirt and sweatpants from the cabinet, a spare he leaves in the case he unintentionally sleeps over, and you walk towards Taehyung before slowly shaking him awake.

“Hey,” you speak softly as his eyes crack open, mind still swimming in alcohol, “you should change into this. Your clothes must be uncomfortable to sleep in. Here’s some water too.”

His eyes open a little bit wider, voice hoarse when he speaks, “(Y/N)?”

You swallow, “Yeah, it’s me.”

“I can’t remember most of tonight, how did I—”

You smile, “And you probably won’t remember all of this when you sleep once more. Just change and drink this, Taehyung.”

A part of why you’re doing all the things you’re doing is the fact that you know he will forget this.

He sits up, swaying as he does so, twisting the water open. You greet him good night, and just as you turn to head back to sleep, his hand dart out to grip your wrist – as tight as the grip that has your heart beating so loud in your chest as he does, “I’m sorry.”

Without turning around, you answer, “You don’t have to be. I would’ve done the same for anyone else.”

“No, you wouldn’t have.”

Pressing your tongue against your cheek, you rip your arm away from his hold, now turning around to face him. He slowly stands, eyes trained on you. You open your mouth to speak but he beats you to it, “I’m not saying sorry just because of tonight,” he speaks quietly, “This is an apology that’s long overdue. An apology I never had the courage to give you. An apology that I owe you. I’m sorry. I’m sorry for being the coward that walked away without an explanation. For not being the person I promised you I would be.”

“I told you,” you say through gritted teeth, “You don’t owe me an apology, Taehyung. It’s over and done with. Apologizing to me would mean that there’s still loose ends between us, and I’m telling you that there’s none. You may have burnt those ends the moment you walked away and I have burned mine in the years that followed. You don’t owe me anything.”

He’s closer now, so close that you feel yourself getting overwhelmed by the smell of alcohol and his perfume. “Then why are you still wearing this?”

You feel all the walls come down, then, when his fingers trace the golden chain of the locket. The once emblem of young and promised love, of an oath, of Kim Taehyung. The necklace that never was once removed from you since then.

You chuckle, bitter and harsh, “You’re still wearing it too, Kim.”

You flinch as you feel the pad of his thumb wipe away at the trail of tears that has somehow escaped, “Leaving you was the only choice I had then. It killed me to walk right out of that fucking door but it was the only choice. For you, for me, for us. Even if it meant me becoming the asshole, it was the only choice.”

“Don’t feed me that bullshit, you left me. And in my vocabulary and everyone else’s, leaving the person you claim to love without a single explanation is a shit move,” you nearly damn snarled, “I could’ve accepted you telling me you didn’t love me anymore but you fucking walked out without a single word. Well, I guess it worked out great for you, huh? You’re getting married now.”

“I did l—”

“Don’t fucking dare say it,” you sob, feeling all the energy draining out of you in a second, “You’re four years too late, Taehyung.”

The chains that hold all the hurt and grievance of the past four years had been unlocked and with the thought of Taehyung not being able to remember this tomorrow, you let it all out.

“I lied,” you whisper, lips and chest shaking as you breathe, “It hurts me seeing you now. So fucking much. Because you never wanted to get married. I remember when we were together you said that we could live without the titles, the labels, and the technicalities of it all, because you’d love me the same. So yes, it hurts. I can’t deny that it does when the things you didn’t want with me, things I wanted to have with you, you learned to want with someone else. Shit like this hurts because even if I was okay without all the titles, I thought then that spending a lifetime with you wouldn’t be so bad. But you made it seem like you never wanted marriage, not with anyone ever and so I accepted it, content even with just being with you.”

“But then you show up like this,” you say so quietly you don’t know if he can hear it, “You can’t expect it not to hurt, Tae, because it does. So, so much.”

“I’m sorry,” Taehyung lightly rests his forehead on yours, “I’m so sorry.”

“Answer me this one question,” you look up at him, “Please.”

You feel him nod, “Anything.”

You feel it again, the suffocating claws that grips around your chest, the pain of unanswered questions and doubts, “Was my love not enough for you?”

You feel it before you hear it, when he nods against your head, hands coming up to hold your cheeks, ��No, no, god, no. It was more than enough. It was so much more than enough that you became someone who didn’t deserve someone who couldn’t reciprocate the amount of love you were giving me. I’m sorry.”

“I miss you, Tae.” You whisper, and you can barely see him through the tears, “And it’s so, so wrong and I shouldn’t be doing this but fuck, I do. Four years and I still miss you and now you’re here, back in my life, and yet you’re still the farthest you’ve ever been from me.”

Maybe it’s the realization that he is – so far away from you and will never be close enough anymore – that you think maybe this is the long-awaited end. The closure you’ve once longed for but never had. Maybe there really was no reason for him leaving you beyond the fact that he didn’t love you anymore – and maybe that was enough reason. You just didn’t want to accept that fact. Maybe it’s time that you do.

After Taehyung, you’ve become someone who believed that love is something that’s easy to let go, when in fact, all this time, it is the love you had for Taehyung you’ve never let go of. And maybe, it was never love for the people that came after him and so it became easy for you once it’s over, once it ended. Because what has started that really counted has never reached its end, for you anyway. Because it will never be the same.

Because they weren’t Kim Taehyung.

“Don’t cry for me. I don’t deserve it,” he smiles a small smile as he wipes a tear away.

“Then stop making me cry, asshole,” you softly retort, hands coming up to wrap around his own to pull them away from your face. You can’t think straight when he has his hands on you, “I’m not asking for you to love me again, not anymore. Maybe we could be friends?”

It’s a weak attempt at humor, you know. And you really don’t think you can be just friends with Taehyung. But you’re weak for Kim Taehyung and you’re still so fucking in love him that you’d settle for whatever there can be between the two of you. He doesn’t need to know the specifics.

“Can we, really?” He laughs softly, a sad smile appearing, “I’m about to do something very stupid, for the very last time, so please, stop me if you don’t want to because I don’t think I can stop myself.”

He leans forward as the inches between you decrease down to a zero, his lips pressing against your cheek, your forehead, your eyelid, and to the corner of your mouth before he pulls away. “No, you had something to drink too, I’m drunk, you’re drunk. I’m sorry, I don’t know what I was thinking, ” Taehyung breathes against your cheek, eyes shut tight.

“I’m not.”

Whether that’s an answer that refutes your state of intoxication or a statement that debunks Taehyung’s apology, you don’t know. Because the next moment finds you pulling him forward, arms snaking around his shoulders as you kiss him. Soft and unhurried and sad – a declaration of what had remained unsaid for the past years.

The last time, you swear, and from tomorrow then on, you’re going to be friends. This night will be void – forgotten and discarded. Taehyung is going to continue with his life and you with yours.

It’s so easy to become so lost in Taehyung that you forget the rest of the world.

That you don’t hear the sound of the door opening.

Or the second set of drunk footsteps that follows the first one.

“What in the fuck is going on here?”

337 notes · View notes

bdsmrist · 11 months

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gonna get a bit personal here, but as an actor it hurts me to see how ppl misinterpret a character as layered and nuanced as kim

now u might be wondering: girl wtf does being an actor have to do w lieutenant kitsuragi. well, i believe it to be the case that actors are storytellers. its our job to write in our characters studies what isnt in the script, to fill in the gaps, and portray that to the best of our abilities.

while in school, my professor’s always emphasized that as an actor, 100% of the time its more interesting when your characters motivations are rooted in love, rather than resentment. and i feel like too often i see ppl understand kim’s motivations be fueled by a desire to reject, protect himself, and detach himself from a world he resents.

now; thats not to say that isn’t entirely true. after all it is what the canon tells us explicitly: that he gave up on moralism, religion, etc, because he again and again was disappointed by the reality of elysium. therefore, that must mean that from there on out kim was a lost soul, that when coming to contact with harry’s spark, it lit his ambitions once more

and yes, to an extent, thats true, but its not the whole truth. to imply otherwise is very derivative. one of the things that makes kim such a compelling character is how he never stopped loving the world around him, *before* meeting harry. and even tho he limits how much he allows himself to indulge in it, it still bleeds through the cracks. hence, when he meets harry, he pours his devotion into the case, and in turn, into harry, without even knowing the guy

would a detached character have the patience and compassion he has for harry on day one? absolutely not. the man is borderline coddling to harry despite it all. and you can hear it in the performance!

jullian champenois’ voice is characterized by its mellow, soothing quality. hes gentle about it! and the actor made that choice for a reason! kim is a gentle person! he stands his ground, he sets boundaries, keeps u in course, and is nothing of a pushover. but regardless, his temperament is calm and reassuring. thats his function as a literary device! to contrast harry’s self-hatred and self-loathing with compassion and understanding!

think about it: would a character thats insistent on being a cold wall, sit on the swing-sets with harry for the pure purpose of just being there so harry doesnt have to confront that alone? if kim only wanted to keep people at an arms length, would he insist you two to be the ones to break the news to working class woman about her husband when ur at her doorstep? he said it himself; the precinct couldve handled it fine.

if kims actions were rooted in resentment towards an unfair world, would he be an instrument of justice for the rcm in the first place? kim, who verbatim despises the cops who become cops so they can use policing as an ego outlet?

kim kitsuragi cares. he cares very deeply, and i believe that the walls around him are a result of kim attempting to keep himself *in*, rather than keep others *out*. kim keeps HIMSELF on a short leash, because he knows that otherwise he’d go all in, just like harry.

harry and kim are at the opposite ends of the same spectrum of people that are too passionate for a world that does not reward such earnestness. therefore, harry copes with addiction, and kim copes with restrictions. regardless. its all comes back to love.

#y he dicho CASO CERRADO #pls stop implying harry taught kim to care oh so help me #kim kitsuragi #disco elysium #harry du bois #harrykim #kimharry #hdb

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sooniebby · 1 year

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ఌ 𝐍𝐄𝐑𝐃

꧁ 𝙊𝙧𝙞𝙜𝙞𝙣𝙖𝙡 𝙘𝙝𝙖𝙧𝙖𝙘𝙩𝙚𝙧 𝙭 𝙢𝙖𝙡𝙚 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙚𝙧 ꧂

Teaser ➤ the day he fell in love with his big booty himbo <3

Word count › 894

Rating › NSFT

Warnings › Yubin a perv

Kinks › none

╭┈─────── ೄྀ࿐ ˊˎ-

╰┈─➤ ＢＥＧＩＮＮＩＮＧ

Choi Yubin was an outcast. At least in popular spaces. He had a few friends in his music club but if they hadn’t enjoyed music like him, would they even talk to him?

Most likely no…. He knew he was a bit weird: didn’t talk much, answered in short sentences, and even cute girls talking to him didn’t get his shell to crack.

But he was fine being the weird good looking nerd that kept to himself.

He needed only one friend, Kim Bora. She was way hotter than him—by the amount of notes she got in her locker in home room. But she never got a boyfriend.

Or girlfriend, Yubin wasn’t sure if she liked anyone really.

“Bin, pass the ball.” Bora said, pointing to the ball that had rolled down to his feet. Yubin hates gym class so he stayed in the back with other kids who didn’t want to play. He huffed but pushed the ball back to whoever was playing.

“You’re so out of it.” Bora laughed, a grin on her lips. “See someone catch your eye?” She jokingly looked around but knew it wasn’t true.

Yubin hated almost all of his classmates. All they wanted to do was talk about their looks or something else he didn’t give too shits about.

Oh well, he just had to survive another school day.

He glanced down at his shoelaces for the third time today. It was more interesting than whatever his classmates were doing.

“Oi!”

He wanted to die so bad.

“Oi!!!”

Mmh, what should he have for dinner?

“YUBIN!!!”

Yubin looked up and cursed. A ball came straight for his head and knocked him square in his nose. He swore he heard a crack as he fell to the ground with a shriek that Bora would forever bully him for.

At the nurse, the clinic nurse didn’t do much. Gave him an ice pack right before pushing his nose back in place. It was painful. He screamed.

Never again.

He was allowed to leave school so he had texted his grandmother to meet him at the train station. Just as he was about to leave, the door to the nurse’s office opened and he saw something magical in front of him.

Yubin wasn’t sure who the hell he was but he wanted to know everything about him.

Tanned skin, jet black hair parted in the middle with a few longer strands getting into his eyes a bit. Double eyelids that resembled that thing Bora mentioned about people looking like animals.

Yeah, this guy looked like a puppy. The guy was buff, way more than the average student should be. He was still in his gym clothes. A tight white shirt stuck to his chest showing an outline of abs and boobs.

Yes, boobs!

A slim waist. And the most pouty lips he ever saw.

Yubin opened his mouth to speak. Wondering what the hell this guy was in here for but he looked at him.

And he smiled.

Holy fuck someone other than Bora smiled at him!!!

“Yunwoo!”

That wasn’t his name but he’d take it!

“I’m so sorry.” He said, walking over to hand him a bag of rice snacks. How the fuck did he know he liked them?!? Yubin looked at him as if he was an angel above.

“Sorry for what…?” He mumbled, remembering he couldn’t just stare at the guy.

“The ball. I had hit it too hard. If you want anything else, I’ll give it to you! I heard your nose was broken.” He looked so guilty. His lips were jutted out into a pout while his doe eyes looked down.

Yubin wanted him to look like that everyday. He made sure to use his jacket to cover his growing erection and simply nodded.

“It’s fine. It wasn’t on purpose.”

“Ah,” the guy smiled. Ah he loved this look as well. “I’m Yim (Name).”

Yim? Oh, it was close to Yubin! It was fate!! Yubin was just thinking out of his ass but he promised himself that he would make this random guy his boyfriend.

“Get home safe, Yunwoo.” (Name) said.

“Yubin….” Yubin muttered but (Name) was already gone.

Well, that’ll be the first thing he does when wooing (Name)… getting him to know his actual name.

𝄞

Yubin knew he was nasty. Perverted really. Who meets someone random and suddenly jerk off to them?

Choi Yubin, that’s who.

Groans left his lips as he rubbed his cock in his bedroom. He was still dressed in his gym clothes—having just rushed into his room. His grandmother was surely confused but she didn’t say anything.

Yubin was surprised in himself at how quick he was about to cum. The thoughts of (Name)’s lips around his cock. His doe eyes staring up at him as he sat on the ground as he cried on his cock.

“(Name)…” he grunted as he came into the napkin nearby. Yubin threw it into a trash can underneath his desk and stared up at the ceiling.

God damn, what a pervert he was.

His mind went back to (Name), thinking back onto his boobs. The white shirt that stuck to his wet tanned skin. He hummed to himself, imagining (Name) fucking himself on his cock.

Yubin glanced down at his twitching cock.

Ah, he had a few more rounds in him.

╭┈─────── ೄྀ࿐ ˊˎ-

╰┈─➤ ＥＮＤ

Perverted Yubin is back!

His first post was way more popular than I thought!!

I have three other characters that I’ll publish their meet cutes soon next week!

Requests for Yubin are open if you got any ideas for him 🤭

#bottom male reader

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hwaslayer · 8 months

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project: make you love me (jyh) | eight.

♣︎ spotify playlist | series masterlist

—summary: yunho can’t stand how you’re so wrapped up in the notorious campus fuckboy, park seonghwa. he would gladly love you the way you deserve, despite being shy, awkward and the complete opposite of seonghwa. thus, when he finds himself spending more time with you over literature reviews and random study sessions, he decides to take on the challenge to win you over.

—pairing: jeong yunho x f. reader x park seonghwa

—genre: (18+ - minors dni) strangers/friends to lovers, college au | fluff, angst, smut

—word count: 3.2k

—chapter content/warnings: scary movie night with friends!!, flashback scene with seonghwa 😅, snuggles, holding hands, yunho is the sweetest and super gentle with oc 🥺, a kiss on the cheek hehe, the next two updates will also be very crucial for these lovebirds!! 🖤

"What else should we buy in this aisle?" Chaery slowly pushes the cart down the chip aisle.

"Dude? We already have so much chips." Seungmin points at the popcorn boxes, nachos and other chips already sitting in the cart. "We haven't even gone to the desserts yet."

"Kim Seungmin, we are hosting a scary movie night. Back to back scary movies." She pauses to glare at him. "Of course people are going to look for food. We need to over-compensate than under-compensate." She continues to lecture him.

"She's kinda right." Soobin shrugs. "Gotta be good hosts." He shows the big pack of sour worms in his hand. "Sour worms?"

"Yes, but for decoration!" She grabs the bag and tosses it into the cart.

"Decoration?"

"Yeah, I'm going to put it into a fancy jar and organize it all cutely." Chaery giggles, making you shake your head as you trail behind with Soobin.

"Can we please just eat these normally?" Seungmin continues to bicker with Chaery as they finally lead the way out of the aisle and onto the baked goods/dessert section. Soobin tucks his hands in his pockets, looking down at you with a smirk. You furrow a brow, confused as to what he's smiling like that for.

"What? Weirdo." He laughs and shakes his head.

"Oh, nothing." You playfully hit him on the bicep. "Ouch!"

"You can't just look at me then say that."

"Nah. It's nothing serious. But, Yunho is still coming right?"

"Yes." You squint your eyes at him.

"Goodluck making sure Chaery stays quiet."

"Oh hush, she'll be fine."

"Mhm." He wiggles his eyebrows.

"Just friends, remember?"

"Hm." Soobin hums. "We'll see about that tonight."

"Choi Soobin, what is that supposed to mean?"

"Scary movies are the best environment for PDA."

"Or, scary movies are just a good environment for friends in general."

"Mm, no." Soobin shuts you down, making you scoff. "But, we can say that if it makes you feel better."

"It does." You continue to squint at him. "You guys are such instigators."

"Sorry." He smirks. "Just know I think it's adorable." You make a face and roll your eyes. "On a more serious note, have you heard from Seonghwa?" You shake your head.

"Not really. Not after I told him we should end things." You shrug. "He can be mad all he wants, but I'm done with it. He doesn't realize he's wrong."

"Good." Soobin scratches at his temple. "What if he ends up running back to you, though?"

"No, I highly doubt that." You say lowly. "Why?"

"Just wondering. I, um, was just reminded of when Seonghwa never wanted to join in on movie nights or our kick-its. I know it's a small thing but it meant a lot to you. It's nice knowing Yunho is making the effort, even as your friend."

"Mm, yeah." You look at your feet as you continue to walk alongside of him.

♣︎ FLASHBACK

"Hwa." You gently nudge him while lifting your head from his chest to look at him directly in the eye.

"Hm?" He hums, eyes still glued onto his tv screen in front of him. The both of you lay in his bed, his apartment awfully quiet after San and Mingi left for a late night fast food run. Seonghwa's fingers gently trace circles on the edge of your shoulder, his expression flat as he continues to watch the show that's on.

"We're having a movie night at the apartment in a few days. You should come." He lets out a small, pathetic chuckle before shaking his head.

"I don't know."

"Why not? You never come even though it's just my roommates and a few of our friends."

"Exactly. I don't know your friends like that, so why would I go?" You furrow your brows and lift your head from his chest.

"So wouldn't you take that as an opportunity to get to know them?"

"What makes you think your friends are interested in getting to know me? I know they don't like me." Seonghwa has a small smirk forming at the corner of his lips.

"Because they're my friends at the end of the day. They'll still try because they know it matters to me. Just like me asking you to do the same with them."

"It's just weird. I don't wanna be around people who don't like me. On top of that, I know they're your friends, but I'm sure they truly care less." He sighs. "Sorry, I just don't see myself doing it."

"Not even for me?"

"Why do you have to form it that way? You're trapping me into the situation." You roll your eyes, throwing your leg over him to start getting dressed again. "Where are you going?"

"Home."

"I'm being honest, Y/N. I don't see the point of this." He sighs and tries to grab at your wrist. "You don't have to act like that. If it really makes you feel better, I'll do the next one. Okay?" He says just to give you what you wanna hear, though he doesn't mean it and he'll find another way to get out of it.

"Nevermind. Just forget it."

♣︎ END

"My point is.. people always realize after they lose something good. I just don't wanna see you get hurt by Seonghwa again, is all." Soobin chimes in again.

"Thanks." You give him a small smile. But, it immediately fades when you both hear Seungmin and Chaery bickering over the types of dessert they should buy, and whether or not Chaery should arrange a small charcuterie board last minute. Soobin cuts in and tells Chaery not to, while grabbing a pack of freshly baked cookies for dessert. He takes the cart from them and heads towards the self-checkout, making you laugh at how frustrated he's gotten in the past few minutes. When you and your roommates finally get home, you all get washed up and clean the apartment to start setting up the food at the table.

You're excited to see Yunho tonight, especially since you both haven't seen each other over the weeks due to tremendous amounts of tests, papers and projects. But, he still checked on you through random texts and calls, keeping it short for the sake of deadlines and letting you get rest. But, you missed Yunho, his company. You missed the random walks. You missed the McDonald's runs. You missed seeing him in the library— which, you haven't really gone to just because you've been spending more nights studying with your roommates comfortably in your apartment.

You remember asking him if he was still down to come tonight, reassuring him that he wasn't obligated and that you'd completely understand if he had other things to do. To be honest, you were ready for it. You were ready for Yunho to tell you he indeed did have other [better] things to work on.

'Nope. I'm gonna be there.'

Is what he surprisingly comes back with when you tell him. When you heard his response on the other line, you felt your palms get a little sweaty, nerves starting to get to the best of you. How could you keep him entertained? Did he feel pressured? Did he even want to go? What was he going to think of you with your friends?

He is going because he is genuinely interested in going, right?

You couldn't help but overthink.

"Hey, what're you thinking about?" Chaery looks at you before unloading the chips into a big bowl.

"I hope Yunho didn't feel pressured or obligated to come."

"Are you kidding?! Absolutely not!" She sets the empty bag aside. "If he didn't want to come, I am certain Yunho respects you enough to be honest about it. But, I genuinely think he wants to come and just hang out with you." Chaery brushes your hair back. "Don't think that way, babe. If I were him, I'd love to spend time with you, too." You chuckle and roll your eyes.

"Please. We are just friends."

"For now." She winks with a playful pinch to the arm. "Promise he will enjoy himself."

"Thank you." You poke out your bottom lip. "So, how can I make myself useful?" She laughs.

"You are always useful. But, a bit of help with organizing the snacks would be great! People are gonna be here soon." You chuckle and help her set up the rest of the snacks, spreading the decorations across the table shortly afterwards.

Just as she had mentioned, your friends started arriving quickly— all falling into your apartment one by one. You start to worry a bit when Yunho hasn't arrived, anxiously fiddling with your fingers and checking your phone. You head into the bathroom to relieve yourself and take a moment to calm down.

If he didn't want to be here, he would just say so.

You let out a breath and swing the door open, eyes landing on the front door ahead.

"There you are! She's finally done doing her business—" Your eyes widen when you see Yunho standing next to Seungmin, furrowing your brows at your roommate for having no filter most of the time.

"Seungmin." You say with clenched teeth, making him laugh.

"Kidding! Jeez." He gently taps Yunho on the arm with the back of his hand. "Anyway, I'm gonna help Chaery with the rest of this stuff in the kitchen. Feel free to grab whatever you need and get comfortable." Seungmin jogs over to the kitchen, leaving you and Yunho alone.

"I honestly thought you were gonna back out last minute." Yunho raises a brow before laughing a bit.

"Is that what you think of me?" You shake your head. "I told you I wanted to come."

"I'm glad you didn't change your mind." You smile up at him. "Hungry?"

"A bit?" You laugh and show him to the food, letting him greet your friends and roommates on the way. Yunho helps himself to a slice of pizza, while you take two— getting a bowl of chips and popcorn to share before you plop onto the couch and set your things down on the coffee table. Everyone is pretty much situated at this point, all sprawled throughout your living room while waiting for the first movie to play.

"Okay! Is everyone ready?!" Chaery asks, making sure everyone has their food before beginning.

"Let's go! Play it!" Hyunjin responds excitedly from the floor. And with that, the first movie begins: The Devil Inside.

Of course, with any scary movie, things can start off slow. It gives the illusion that it may not be as bad as you think— when indeed, it eventually does get to that point. Yunho sits next to you on the couch, hugging close to the arm rest to give you space in case you needed it. But, he feels your leg brush against his and he feels himself loosen up. He doesn't feel so tense when you set your plate back onto the coffee table and give him a few gentle taps on the thigh, asking him if he needs anything with that pretty smile of yours. He almost gets lost in the way your eyes twinkle when you look at him, the way your smile feels so genuine.

You are warm.

You are safe.

"I'm okay." Yunho responds to your question with a low whisper. You give him a small nod before proceeding to eat your food while watching the movie.

As the movie progresses, there are a few moments when you've already had to sit back and cover your eyes, the scenes too intense for your liking. Yunho actually hates these movies, truly. He can't stand them because he hates the visuals, the sounds. He doesn't really know where he lies about all this stuff, he truthfully wouldn't know how to explain it. But, he just doesn't like it. It's unsettling, and it's not his cup of tea. Of course, probably stating the obvious for most people.

The point here is that even if you had told him about the movie choice beforehand, he'd still show up. Because he genuinely wants to be here with you. He'll take any time he gets outside of school purposes.

"Oh shit!" You jump from the loud sound, instantly covering your face and digging it against Yunho's shoulder. He laughs at you, before wrapping his arm around your waist— pulling you closer to his body.

"It's okay, it's over." He chuckles, looking at you while you continue to hide behind your hands.

"Don't lie to me!"

"I would never. I promise."

"Ugh." You whine. "I'm sorry, I'm gonna hide from time to time."

"It's fine, I don't mind."

"Really?" You look up at him as you find your body comfortably resting against his, Yunho's arm still wrapped around you to keep you there. He simply nods with a small smile, subtly biting onto his bottom lip when he feels you adjust in your position and scoot even closer. Yunho is trying his best not to be stiff, awkward; but in all honesty, he likes having you close and he just wants you comfortable.

"Really." He whispers as the intensity in the movie climbs again. You smile at him before returning your attention to the tv, Yunho's hand gently resting on your thigh.

"Dude." Seungmin whispers over to Chaery and subtly nods in your direction. "Cute."

"Stop." She harshly whispers back with a playful tap to the chest. "Leave them!"

"Says you." Seungmin bites back sarcastically before earning another hit on the bicep.

You continue to let Yunho hold you, hand gently resting against your thigh as you keep close to him. He draws tiny circles on the surface of your leggings, making you silently giggle to yourself from the ticklish feeling due to his gentle touch. At some point, your hand lingers near his, but you're too afraid to make the first move [if any]. So, you don't. You can barely focus on the movie because you're too busy deciding if you should just say fuck it or not.

The movie says otherwise, though. Especially when a loud jump scare happens yet again.

"Oh my god, can they stop doing that!" You jump, hands coming up to cover your face.

"Y/N, watch the movie." Yunho teases, trying to pry your hands away from your face.

"Only if they promise to stop the bullshit." You joke.

"Okay, I'll call them and discuss." Yunho successfully pries your hands off after that statement, eyes peering into yours to check if you're okay. He doesn't necessarily let go of your right hand, letting you lace your fingers with his.

"You're funny." You giggle.

"At least you're laughing, though." He smiles. "Promise the rest of the movie won't be that bad. I got you, okay?"

"Okay." You nod, sinking back into your position against Yunho, hands still laced together.

"Comfortable?" You smile at him.

"Mhm. If you are."

"Don't worry about me. As long as you don't feel threatened by the movie." You let out a small laugh.

As the movie continues, your position shifts in a way where you're almost laying onto Yunho, while he continues to have an arm wrapped around you and his hand locked with yours. Being with Yunho makes you feel comfortable, and the movies seem less threatening with him here. You can handle scary movies for the most part, but having him feels like a warm blanket on a cold, snowy day; having Yunho feels like the one sunshine ray poking through the clouds.

Yunho is safe.

The rest of the movie goes on, with Yunho being there to soften the blows of the remaining jumpscares. Before the next movie, you run to grab a few more snacks, with Yunho still welcoming you in his arms just like before. When the second movie gets rolling, things continue in the same manner with him. No one is really batting an eye, but everyone is also aware that you and Yunho have gotten closer lately. They try to mind their own business, except they all can agree on one thing: You deserve better than Park Seonghwa. You have been happier without him.

That's all that matters.

During the second movie, Yunho continues his subtle acts of affection— little pinches on your thigh, squeezing your hand, caressing the surface of your hand with his thumb as his way to console you, teasing you whenever you hide;

Nothing more, nothing less.

And it brings you so, so many butterflies. Yet, you're still not really sure of what you feel for Yunho. Maybe you're scared, maybe you're overthinking? Maybe Seonghwa was partially to blame since you're afraid of getting hurt. But, what you do know is that you hate when the movie marathon comes to an end because this means your friends go home, Yunho goes home.

Everyone does their role in helping you and your roommates clean up, even though you've reassured them that they didn't need to. With that, the house is clean under half an hour, friends bidding their farewells shortly after. Yunho sticks around to make sure nothing else is needed, giving you leverage to join him outside once your roommates thank him for his help.

"What a night." Yunho laughs at your statement just as he slips back into his shoes, throwing his hood over his head.

"Exhausting?"

"A bit." You giggle. "I can walk you to your apartment—" Yunho shakes his head.

"No, then who is gonna walk you back?" He smirks. "We'll go back and forth." You snort.

"Fine." You cross your arms and look up at him. "Did you have fun, though?"

"I did have fun watching you cover your eyes and accidentally hit me from time to time." You laugh.

"Hey!"

"Kidding. I did." He chuckles and gently taps you on the tip of your nose. "I'll be okay on the walk over."

"Okay." You smile. "Thank you for coming, and for being my shield?" You say in a questioning tone and Yunho smiles.

"Of course." You walk closer and open your arms for a hug, immediately wrapping them around his waist when he pulls you in. You hold your position against him for a bit, taking in his scent while he continues to hold you.

Yunho is warm.

Yunho is safe.

When you finally pull back and look up at him, you hesitate with your next move. But, with the way Yunho continues keep his gaze on you, you almost feel like he's expecting your next move. Maybe he'd like it? You can't exactly help yourself, either. He was so sweet and gentle with you earlier, and he didn't have to come tonight. He didn't have to, especially not knowing anybody besides your roommates. Yet, he did. And he was there by your side the entire time.

You can't exactly help yourself.

So, you toss the overthinking out the window, tippy-toe and give Yunho a chaste kiss to the cheek. He smiles a bit, ears instantly hot and red.

"Seriously, thank you."

"You don't need to thank me, Y/N. I like your company." He digs his hands into his pockets. "Get some rest."

"Okay. I will. Goodnight, Yunho."

"Goodnight." He bites onto his bottom lip before turning on his heel for the lonely walk back to his apartment. It's a little past midnight and Yunho really does feel the loneliness the farther he gets from your apartment. When he steps into his own, he kicks his shoes off and gets ready for bed. As soon as he slips into his covers and his head hits the pillow, he can't help but think of you.

You.

Tonight, Yunho doesn't think sleep will find him. But he's okay with it for once. Because it's you— you're the reason why sleep won't find him. You're the reason why he's been happier.

You.

And he hopes you feel the same way, too.

♣︎ taglist: @s-nsanshine @soupbinlily @tyongff-ff @jiminiscricket @g1g1l @staytinyinmybpack @woomyteez @gfksz @bitchwhytho @savluvsmingi @thisisntmyrightera @hyukssunflower @miriamxsworld @tmtxtf @kuromibabe04 @lmnhead @carrietwrites @tournesol155 @persphonesorchid @txt-yaomi @marsattacks @mxnsxngie @h-nji @mundayoonimnida @jalapeno-princess @nakiiko @asjkdk @kunikku @idkwgoh @kyeos4ng @agust-d2 @araknoid @bintific @primoppang @betray-the-light

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lovelycupid47 · 8 months

Text

Yandere! Kim Taehyung College AU! One-shot

a/n: This is my first fan fiction in a while. I'm trying to get the storyline readable and not cringe. So, if it does, I'm sorry

pairing: yandere!college student! Taehyung x college student! female reader.

TW: manipulation, slight abuse, and one swear word.

Everyone was jealous of you. They envied you. The reason is your boyfriend, Kim Taehyung. Your boyfriend was the most handsome, kind, loyal, and perfect man that every girl wished they had. Your boyfriend made sure that everyone knew that he belonged to you. Always staying by your side, blatantly ignoring any girl that tries to flirt with him, leaving hickeys every time you stay over in his dorm, deleting any messages from women that would try to seduce him, and even tattooing your name on his collarbone. Yet it has become overwhelming for you.

You met him in your first year of college. You were struggling to make friends and were finding adjustment a little difficult. It wasn’t until you met him through a classmate who invited you over to a club. You guys hit off great. You thought he was such a gentleman and handsome guy that befriending had become easy. Oh, how so wrong were you?

Taehyung thought you were amazing and beautiful. Seeing your smile created a spark in his stomach that he didn’t want to go away. When he saw you in the sunlight, he believed that you were an angel that was sent to him since you were so perfect for him. He was so perfect for you. He knew he had to have you, so he asked you for your number and you being naive, said yes.

It started with texting each other every single day to daily luncheons to dating by the end of your freshmen semester. You guys were the perfect couple and everyone on campus knew you two could never be separated. It’s not like you want to separate. It's more like he doesn’t want to at ALL be separated away from you. At first, it was lovely and sweet, but your friends started noticing some signs that weren’t so lovely.

“I thought you told Taehyung, you are spending time with the girls.” One of your blonde friends, Nayeon, said.

“I did, but you know him. He gets really anxious when I don’t text him back over 30 minutes.” You defended.

“Isn’t that a little too much? He has been nonstop texting you since you sat down.” Your Burnett friend, Jihyo, questioned.

“Yeah, but he has really bad anxiety, so if I don’t text him quick enough, there is a chance he can get a panic attack. Last time, I forgot to text him before my test and he ended up calling me 20 times and left 50 messages about if I was okay and if I was in danger.”

Both of your friends looked at each other wearily and back at you who was oblivious to how manipulative it sounded. Taehyung had never acted like this before, especially since they had known him longer than you. They've seen his previous relationships, and he never acted that way with any of the girls. This raised concerns among the girls and gave them a slight suspicion of something that wasn’t right. Since then they started observing you guys interaction in public.

What they noticed was how subtly possessive he could get. It started with just grabbing your hand and never letting go unless you need to use both hands. They saw how he would beg for your attention when you were talking to another guy. The worst of all is the death stare he would give to any guy or girl who tries to flirt with you. Instead of voicing their concerns to you, they kept quiet.

You, Taehyung, and your friend group decided to go eat out since exams were over. It was a moment to destress and eat/drink all of their worries away. It was going so perfectly until your boyfriend took it too far.

“Who are you texting?” Taehyung asks.

“Oh a relative, they are wondering if I’m coming home during break.” You proclaimed. Out of nowhere, you felt arms wrapping around you and a sudden whine.

“Who told you you can leave me alone? Who is going to cuddle with me at night then? What about our morning breakfast together? You can't leave your boyfriend here by himself.” He whined out loud. Usually, this behavior would be cute to your friends, but now it has become really annoying.

“You can wait a couple of months without her. It's not like she dying,” Nayeon mumbled, head down and moving her food around.

“No, that is a crime. I need the love of my life with me at all times. She is my other half.” He defended while slightly glaring at her.

“Well, have you ever thought that maybe giving her space?” Jihyo argued back with the same glare intensity as him. “It becomes overwhelming when you don’t leave her side, especially when she needs to use the restroom.”

You didn’t like where this was going, especially since it started raising some tension on the table. “Are you tired of me, baby?” Taehyung pouted pulling his most unforgiving puppy dog's eyes. The eyes he knew that you can’t say no to.

“O-of course not!” You defended, “I would never think like that because I know how much it affects you, and you know how much I love you. I-I love the affection you give me.”

“Yeah, it is endearing, but Taehyung, it does become overwhelming even for us when all you talk about is Y/N. We get it, you are a hopeless romantic and are head over heels, but hearing about it even when she is not with us is getting really annoying.”Jungkook, Taehyung’s best friend, retorted. He heard from both Nayeon and Jihyo how Taehyung doesn’t set boundaries and is always in your space. At first, he didn’t believe it, but he started paying attention and saw what the other two girls were mentioning. Whenever Jungkook and Taehyung hang out with other guys, Taehyung is always gushing about how pretty and wonderful you are. Then he would be stuck on his phone texting you instead of talking to them. There was even one-time Taehyung yelled at Jimin, a close friend of theirs, for telling Taehyung that he could do so much better than you and that you were just going to be a college fling that he would forget about in the future. Jungkook remembered that day being the only time he saw Taehyung almost get physical with someone. The rage he saw in Taehyung’s eyes was something he could never forget and would haunt him in his sleep.

Taehyung didn’t say anything. He was looking down at his lap staying silent making you even more worried. “Guys, I understand your concerns, but I don’t mind it. Besides, you guys are not considering his separation anxiety. I thought you guys knew about his trauma. So, leave him alone, please.” You begged, it hurts seeing your boyfriend being judged by the people he trusted the most.

“Y/N, he doesn’t have separation anxiety. He just saying that so you can feel pity for him. I asked his mom two days ago and she said he never experienced any trauma.” Nayeon bickered. At that, it was Taehyung’s last straw. He stood up and grabbed your hand. “We will be leaving. Seeing as none of you guys support our relationship.” And you both left the restaurant without listening to your friend’s protest.

The car back to your dorm was silent. No words were coming out of him. You tried lightening the mood, but all you got was one-word answers. It was concerning to you because you never saw him like this. It has been close to two years since you guys started dating, and you have never seen this side of him. Yes, there were also arguments between you, but he was always the one asking for forgiveness whenever you made a move to leave the room. This is something that can actually take a turn in your relationship.

Once at your dorm room, it was just you and him. Your roommate already left back home once exams were finished, so you had the room all to yourself before you headed back home. “Y/N. Give me your phone.” Taehyung demanded in his monotonous voice. A voice he avoids using on you. He was standing by your bed while you were still near the door.

“Why? Can we talk about what happened back at the restaurant first?” You questioned. In the car, you thought about what Nayeon said. Was it true? Were you being lied to?

“I don’t want to talk about it. Especially with people that want to separate us. Now give me your phone.” He extended his hand out expecting you to oblige to his demand, but you were hesitant.

“Those people are our friends. They weren’t trying to separate. They are just concerned for my well-being because you can become overbearing!” Yeah, you were mad at your friends for ganging up on your boyfriend, but they were your only friends since Freshman year. Besides them, no one wanted to be your friend for some odd reason.

“So you agree with them. You can’t stand being with me... Am I annoying you with my love, babe? Is my affection and love something you don’t like? Do you not love me anymore? D-do you hate me?” Taehyung gave you the most heartbreaking expression that you have ever seen.

“Taehyung, you know that is not what I mean.”

“Really? Because it sounds like you don’t love me anymore. Is it because Jihyo and Nayeon are brainwashing you to stop loving me.” He started advancing towards you.

“They have nothing to do with this Tae.” You started slowly backing away.

“They have everything to do with this since they started the whole thing. Obviously, they are trying to persuade you to leave me. Unless…” He had you against the wall while gripping your shoulders tightly.

“Are you cheating on me with Jungkook? After all, he is the only man you interact with and he was quick to make sure to separate you from me.” He was staring straight into your eyes which were diluted with anger while his grip on you was tightening every second.

“Taehyung you are hurting me! You are jumping to a conclusion. There is nothing going on with me and Jungkook, okay? You know that I love you and only, so why would I want Jungkook.” You try reasoning with him, but it seems like nothing is getting to him.

“Prove it. Block them.” He declared, and from the expression on his meant he was serious.

“Block them? Do you mean our friends? The one that has been with us since the beginning? Taehyung this is getting out of hand.” You tried getting out of his grip but he ended up digging his nails into your skin.

“The friends that got us in this argument. The same friends that insulted me in front of you, your boyfriend. The same friends that made fun of my condition, Y/N. What about the time that they picked on your outfit because it was too childish? What about the time they talked shit behind your back and yet you forgave them. You know and I know that they are the toxic ones, so I’m going to ask you one more time. Block. Them. Or help me god I will do it for you.” You were helpless because you knew he was speaking facts and you couldn’t argue back. To you they were facts, but to him, they were lies that he made up and manipulated to make sure you believed him. You defeatedly handed your phone that was buzzing with missed calls from your friends.

He grabbed it and blocked your friends on your phone and any other social media platforms. He wanted to make sure that none of them had any contact with you. Heck, he would even make sure that they don’t even be in the same room with you.

“See, was that hard.” He cupped your face with his veiny hands and kissed your tears away. You didn’t know you were crying until you felt his lips on your eyelids.

“Don’t worry. We have each other. Isn’t that enough? We can be even more affectionate without the nagging people insulting us.” He wrapped his arms around your shoulders while you wrapped your arms around his waist. His head was lying on top of yours while swaying you both from side to side.

“It is me and you against the world. Forever.” If only you saw the smirk he had on his face, you wouldn’t be nuzzling his neck.

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wannaeatramyeon · 1 year

Text

Jake Kim x Reader: Asking you out...?

Pining to fluff. Was just going to leave it at the first part, so try to enjoy this tonal whiplash.

Jake looks at you, listening with a smile, and wonders if this is all he can have.

His day starts and ends with thoughts of you. Despite everything, despite bigger concerns. And he wonders if you think about him half as much as he thinks about you.

Can't help but check everytime he hears his phone ring, hoping it's you. Antsy and fiddling until he can get to it, swiping past the picture of you and him on his lock screen, to see who it's from. Even if it's just to tell him something stupid. Because at least you're thinking of him.

Never has the heart to tell you he has an early morning meeting, continuing to text you deep into the night and showing up with bags under his eyes and looks of pity from his crew.

Even when you're not a message away, Jake lies awake thinking of you. Recalling your words through the day, the lilt of your voice, the way his name sounds on your tongue. How he thinks you might be the most beautiful person that will ever grace his life.

And when he tells his jokes, making other people chuckle, it's your laugh that he looks for. Your eyes that he searches for. Wants to say that actually, that was meant for you. Anything to make you smile.

Swallows down his jealousy when you mention someone catching your attention. Jake plays the role of friend well. He's happy for you. Really, he is.

He will keep telling himself that until it sinks into his thick skull.

"-so when are you going to ask me out?"

At snail's pace, your words sink in... but not really. Jake tilts his head, trying to decipher what's going on.

Is it this dream again?

It doesn't feel like a dream. Just in case though, Jake gives himself a harsh slap on the cheek

Shit. That smarts. Definitely not a dream.

Yet no words come. Throat completely drying up and mind blank, Jake stares and stares and stares.

Unamused with his reaction, you cross your arms tightly. Naturally adopting a defensive stance as this conversation starts to veer wildly from how you imagined. "Aren't you going to say anything?"

Jake's gaze continues to pierce you, and your cheeks heat up. The rejection stings. How did you read the signs so wrong? You thought this guy had been painfully obvious.

"Jake?"

More silence.

"Even if it's a no, you don't have to be such an asshole!"

Wait, who's an asshole? Jake snaps to but does little to tamper your embarrassment or anger.

"Huh?"

Huh?! You practically lay all your cards out on the table and that is all he says? Your voice rapidly rises, reaching what can only be described as shrill with your last syllable. "What do yOU MEAN HUH?!"

"What do you mean ask you out?"

"What?!" And you want to tear your hair out.

"Ask you out." Jake enunciates slowly and clearly, like you're the one not catching on. "What did you mean?"

"LIKE A DATE! Because I like you and," As quickly as your temper flared, it extinguises again. In a quiet voice, you finish your sentence- "I... I thought you liked me..."

Jake considers playing off his feelings like he always does when someone in Big Deal asks about you. When Jerry or Jason catch him looking a bit too wistfully, or he snaps at Lineman for joking about asking you on a date and they wonder why Jake is being so touchy.

Oh right. A date.

Choking down any fears or anxiety on the off chance the wires have been horrendously crossed, Jake plasters on a fake sunny grin. Might as well leap in head first.

"I do."

Ughhhh, so you were right. "Then ask me out already!"

You're pretty sure your eyes are bugging out as you are practically yelling at him. Reeking of entitlement and demanding to be taken out on a date, looking wild and very unattractive right about now.

Jake would probably agree if he wasn't half in love with you already and pulse racing as what you said finally sinks in. He leans down to keep eye level, teasing tone returning.

"Does that mean you'll say yes?" The fear and anxiety is non existent. The grin is no longer fake.

"Does that mean you like me too?" Damn. Jake thinks you're really so stinking cute with your face crimson, even if he's pretty certain there's currently a 96% chance you'll push him into oncoming traffic.

He's replayed so many different versions of this scene in his his head. And that's where he thought it would all stay.

In his head.

"Missed your chance!" Angrily shoulder checking him, you storm off leaving Jake to call after you.

"Y/N!"

You ignore him.

"Dinner!" he says, beaming and easily catching up with his long legs, "Let's go out for a dinner date."

"Hmph."

You and your stupid conscience, you feel guilty leaving him hanging.

"Fine!" Stopping in your tracks, you whirl round to face Jake (who really does look too pleased with himself), and jab him in the chest. "And you're paying!"

#lookism #lookism x reader #lookism fanfic #jake kim #jake kim x reader #kim gimyung x reader #kim gimyeong x reader #i think i might have written something very similar #wannaeatramyeon

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firehose118 · 1 month

Text

One of the main themes of this show is that no matter what you do — no matter how many people you hurt — you can still make amends and learn from it and do better.

You are not defined by your worst moment.

You are still worthy of being loved even if you make mistakes.

It feels like people are missing this with Eddie right now. Is he making a mistake? Absolutely. Is he hurting people in the process? Yes, he will be once they find out. Is he now irredeemable? No, absolutely not.

That goes against the central message of the entire show.

I could go through character by character and outline how this message applies to all of them but let’s focus on the big one:

Bobby not only hurt his family emotionally with his addiction but he also (accidentally) killed them and 145 others.

He’s terrified still that this makes him unworthy of happiness. But does it? The show tells us over and over again that no, it does not. He’s still trying to make amends, and maybe will have to all his life. But he’s trying. He’s doing that work, and the world of 9-1-1 is a better place because Bobby Nash exists within it.

What Bobby did was so, so much bigger than what Eddie is doing. The intent is different, sure, but both happened because the person was in pain. Pain makes people do terrible and selfish things.

Eddie has been Bobby’s parallel before and we’re seeing it again with the Amir storyline. Both of their pasts are coming back to haunt them right now. Both will have to reckon with the consequences of their actions. Both will have to make amends.

In the world of 9-1-1, any action can be forgivable if you are willing to make amends. Anyone and everyone is deserving of love.

So when I see people in the tags outlining why it’s so unforgivable that Eddie is cheating on Marisol and why this means he doesn’t deserve to be with Buck now, I have to wonder… are we watching the same show?

If you don’t understand that he’s cheating NOT because he ‘is a cheater’ but because he sees Kim as a chance to have Shannon back then you don’t understand how deeply and desperately Eddie has rewritten their marriage in his head to be flawless.

If you don’t understand how much pain Eddie has been in over Shannon’s death since 2019 then you don’t understand Eddie.

If you don’t understand how pain will warp your perception of reality and your scope of acceptable actions then you don’t understand pain.

And if you don’t understand how forgiveness and acceptance of a loved one’s flaws are the absolute heart of this show, then you don’t understand 9-1-1.

#and if you don’t think that evan ‘canonical clinger onto unhealthy relationships’ buckley will understand why eddie is doing this…#then you don’t understand buck #kicking a hornet’s nest to defend eddie here but you people are fucking killing me #he is doing a bad thing. he will stop. he will face consequences. and he will be LOVED ANYWAY.#that’s the whole fucking point of this show babes!!!#911 abc #eddie diaz #mine

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the-cookie-of-doom · 2 months

Note

Hiii

I remember when you were posting about your Kim/Wik Twins AU and I was so hooked! There’s so much potential for angst in this AU😩🤌 I always wondered if there was anything new going on with this WIP.

PS: I’ve been following your blog for a little while (I don’t interact bc im shyy) and I love all your Kimchay WIPS and little excerpts you’ve blessed us with (they make my day everytime I see one). So I want to personally thank your brain for all these wonderful ideas and just thank you for being you 😊

send me an ask and I'll tell you about one of these WIPs!

Oh anon, you're a darling! This was so nice to wake up to <3 I actually haven't worked much on that AU since originally posting it, but you're right, there is so much angst potential in this AU between Wik and Kim. One of the inspirations from it actually came from World of Warcraft, and how the character Varian was split into two people, the other one being Lo'Gosh. I really loved how it wasn't just "this is the good side vs. the bad/feral side." Varian was polite and charming and good at socializing, but he was also vain and easy to manipulate (which was the point of splitting him), whereas Lo'Gosh was definitely a barbarian, but he was also all of Varian's strong will and ambition/motivation, and passion. I hadn't seen that kind of character splitting before, because it's usually an easy shorthand for doing a good/evil thing.

So for the purposes of this fic, Kim isn't just all the evil mafia while Wik is the sweetheart singer. Wik is very driven and tbh a little selfish, he's kind to his fans but ultimately very cold, because he grew up in a world where anything he cared about could be used against him. Both of them are still calculating in clever, but it's Wik that begins investigating Chay, intentionally using his stardom as an in, and purposefully manipulating him to get more information. He takes it to a stronger degree than we actually see from Kim in the show.

Whereas Kim is the quieter, more contained side. They both love music but Kim prefers guitar/piano over singing because he doesn't want to draw attention to himself the way Wik does, although he does write a lot of poetry/lyrics. One of the betrayals from Wik leaving is that he stole Kim's songs. The other is that he left Kim behind. He loves his brother more than anything, and Wik leaving him without so much as a goodbye was devastating for him.

Here's your slightly less than 500 words!

“You left me!” “Would you have even come with me?” Kim’s voice breaks on a desperate, “Yes!” He wants to take it back as soon as the word leaves his mouth, too honest in the heat of his moment, chest heaving with the weight of it. The only good thing about the admission is that his brother is too stunned to reply; Kim takes satisfaction in that, in the implication of it, as Wik realizes the depth of his own selfishness. “Kim…” “I would…” Kim swallows. Days of captivity have left his throat dry. It hurts, speaking these words aloud, tearing them out of his chest to release them after all these years. “I would have. If you asked me to, I would have.” He would have followed his brother anywhere. They were always meant to be together. Kim and Wik, two halves of the same whole, mirror images down to their names. Until Wik decided he couldn’t bear his own reflection anymore. “Kim, I’m sorry, I didn’t know—” “How could you? You only ever think about yourself.” Kim laughs. It’s wet. It hurts, like everything else about this damned conversation. Maybe Wik was right; they were better off alone. “I thought you knew me better than anyone, but you don’t know me at all.” Maybe Wik never did. What a horrible time to realize how truly alone he really is. Wik doesn’t speak for a long time. Neither does Kim, keeping his head bowed and his breaths measured, cracked ribs aching with every rise and fall of his chest. What a cruel joke that the first time they’re sharing a space in years, something Kim has longed for since the day Wik left, and it’s only because someone else has forced them together. “I don’t think you would ever leave the family,” Wik eventually says, his voice quieter than Kim has ever heard it. “You’re not like me, Kim, you never wanted to leave.” Of course he didn’t. Why would Kim ever want to leave his brothers? But at least if he had, Kinn and Tankhun would have had each other. They wouldn’t have been alone, not like Wik is now. Not like Kim is, forever missing his other half. Neither of them were meant to be alone. "It doesn't matter anymore." "Yes it does. Kim. I never meant to hurt you. I—" But there's no more time to talk because their captors are walking in, and Wik is throwing himself in front of Kim, both of them bound and unable to put of any kind of fight. Not that it would have mattered; Wik already got himself kidnapped. Too nosy to stay out of the family completely, but apparently the idealistic fool didn't bother to keep up with his martial arts. Still. Despite blaming him for the current predicament, Kim is a little bit touched that Wik is trying to protect him now. Too late to matter, maybe, but it's something.

#cookie writes #kimchay #honestly this wasn't going to be an ot3 kind of fic #KimChay was going to happen and leave Wik out of it #but Kim has SO many issues towards Wik #i think they should fuck about it

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mae-gi-writes · 11 months

Text

It’s (just so) awkward | jungkook (bts) - part two

No way. We’re too different and he’s so—so black and white. A straight-up yes-or-no kind of guy. And I’m not.”

Genre: nerd! Jungkook x outspoken! Reader, university! Au, idiots to lovers au, kim changbin cameo (skz)

Part One | Part Two | Part Three

----

"It's just you and me, and the song on repeat in my head." — Fall Into Me, Forest Blakk

----

“Do you think that there are people out there looking at the sky and wondering what we are?”

Jungkook tore his gaze off from his phone long enough to raise a brow at you, the kind of look he gave you whenever you asked something out of the blue. You sat there, head tilted back and legs dangling from the edge as your eyes trailed through eh throng of stars dotting the sky.

“Scientifically speaking, no planet can inhabit human life like earth does,” he answered as he went back to his phone, fingers flying away on the keyboard, “so your point is invalid.”

You sighed, then looked at him, “do you have to keep looking at your phone? I thought you were the one who told me phones weren’t allowed when we’re talking.”

He had the decency to look guilty as he gently pushed his phone back into his pocket, “sorry,” he mumbled, “but I stand by my theory. Your assumptions are too far fetched to be reality. There’s no oxygen up there, so it’d be pretty much impossible for planets to have any signs of life—“

“But what if they adapted to something else? What if they didn’t need oxygen to live?”

“They wouldn’t be called humans then.”

“Exactly my point.” You looked back up to the starry night, admired the glittering stars filled with the entirety of humanity’s wishes, “you really like her, huh?”

the question threw him off guard. He blinked at you like a deer in the headlights, “who?”

“Sara,” you tried to smile, though it felt as though your face was cracking in two, “you like her, don’t you? Isn’t that who you were texting up to this point?”

“Yes, because she takes good notes and I would benefit from them,” he pulled his knees up to his chest before leaning upon your shoulder, hair tickling the side of your face as he did so, “why are you asking so many questions about Sara? You keep bringing her up every time.”

In the darkness that surrounded your figures, your lips trembled with the desire to spill out the thoughts that had been roaming in your head rent-free for the past few weeks. As you’d watched him and the said girl get closer with each passing day, you couldn’t help but feel as though you were being left behind, which was absurd, considering that you were always the one dragging Jungkook along to all kinds of parties or events because he was just so awkward and blunt that no one dared to approach him.

Yet, this situation seemed to be reversed now, and you wondered briefly whether Jungkook could feel your absence as much as you felt his.

“Sorry, I guess I was just curious,” you finally said to break the silence buzzing with growing awkwardness, “would that be such a bad thing though? To spend more time with her?”

“Is that what you want me to do?”

“It depends whether that’s what you want to do.”

“Why would I want to spend more time with her?”

“Because you—I don’t know,” you tried to chuckle, “because maybe you might like her?”

Jungkook went silent at that and something in your heart punctured in two. Jesus Christ, Y/N! You screamed at your brain, get a hold of yourself! What was wrong with you? You didn’t own him, nor did you care about who he fell in love with!

Right?

….right?

“You’re not going crazy,” Yoona spoke when you finally decided to spill the beans the day after. It was clear from your face that very morning that you were up all night tossing and turning about whether you actually held feelings for the said young man, “I think you’re jealous because he’s spending more time with Sara than he is with you.”

“I’m not jealous,” you snapped despite the flaming red heating up your cheeks, “I’m just…worried.”

“Sure, and you’re in denial.”

Denial? We’re you in denial? You kept on thinking about what that meant to you, which did not go unnoticed by Changbin a few days afterwards when he strolled into the art lab to find you pulling out strands of your hair in frustration.

He nudged your shoulder with his arm as he took a seat next to you, flashing you a charming yet mischievous grin as he took in your face, “what’s got your panties in a twist?”

“Nothing,” you grumbled. But it was clearly not nothing, and as he pushed at you to confess, you did reluctantly, hating the fact that you were weak enough to crumble under his hard stare. When you were done talking, Changbin merely threw his head back in laughter and caused a few people from the lab to glance his way in half curiosity and concern.

You swatted at his arm, “stop laughing!” You hissed with narrowed eyes, “it’s not funny—stop Changbin!”

“Sorry sorry,” he wiped at the stray tears dotting the corner of his eyes, “I just—I knew it. You fucking like him, huh? And now you’re being a jealous little bitch about it.”

“I’m not—“ anger flared through you, “—I’m not a jealous little bitch!”

“And I’m not an asshole,” he rolled his eyes, “get over it. You’re jealous. It’s crystal clear why. Loser boy stops paying attention to you and suddenly there’s a new girl in his life. Coincidence? I don’t think so.”

You hated the fact that he was right, “I hate you.”

“I know,” his grin widened, “but you know what? At least I’m honest. Why don’t you try it sometime with loser boy? I’m sure he’ll find it pretty fucking amusing.”

“I don’t—I don’t like him, and I’m not jealous.”

“Then would you accept to go on a date with me?”

“What?” Your mind went blank. You stared at him, wondering whether he was being serious.

“I’m asking you to go on a date with me, idiot.”

“But—But—Why?”

You felt your neck flush with embarrassment. Was he being serious right now?

“Because for one; you can make him jealous. And two; because you’re kinda cute and I think I’ll have a good time,” he winked at you then, causing you to flush even redder.

“Uhm—“ this was too much information to take in at once and you excused yourself in haste, surprised that Changbin let you go freely without expecting any response. You managed to get out of the lab and into the right bus, and it was only then that you tried to mull over everything that had just happened. Changbin asking you out was the most shocking turn of events, but maybe he was right. Maybe you needed to know whether Jungkook would react just as you did. Maybe you needed to give Jungkook a taste of his own medicine.

Which was why you agreed to the date.

———

“With who?”

Jungkook was looking at you with wide eyes behind his spectacles. He’d been working on his architecture assignment while keeping you company in a nearby campus cafe when you dropped the bomb.

“Changbin,” even the words sounded forced coming from your mouth, but you keep going, “I thought it’d be fun to give it a try…I’m single, anyway. So why not?”

“Changbin.” Jungkook’s eyes were darting right, left and center, “you’re going to go on a date with Changbin,” he repeated.

“Yeah.”

“Do you like him?”

“Hm, kinda. Yeah.”

“What do you like about him?”

“I—“ you pressed your lips together, “—he’s funny. And…kind. When you get to know him,” you hurriedly add when confusion breaks across his face, “we get along well.”

Jungkook didn’t look convinced, “but he doesn’t like me.”

“Don’t say that,” you huffed, “and plus, does it matter?”

“Yes. Because I’m your friend,” he paused, “your good friend.”

“Well does Sara like me?” You shot back.

“Yes.”

“Have you asked her?”

“…No.”

“Then that doesn’t count,” you shook your head before leaning back against the library couch.

He finally stopped typing to look at you, a frown furrowing his eyebrows, “why wouldn’t she like you?”

“Because girls don’t like it when other girls are around their potential boyfriends.”

“But I’m not her boyfriend.”

“Do you want to be?”

He shrugged, “what does that mean?”

“Well…kinda like, you know, doing stuff together. Holding hands, spending time together, hugging each other on your bad days—“

“Then doesn’t that make you my girlfriend?”

You almost choked on your own spit, “uhm—“

He paused for a second, “we already do all these things.”

“Well yeah, but you do other stuff too. Like, kissing and making out and going on dates and stuff…” you trailed off without knowing how to continue the conversation so that it wouldn’t turn awkward.

Jungkook’s wide eyes turned to give you a look filled with both shock and worry, “Is that what you’re going to be doing with Changbin?”

“Wha—no! It’s just a date! A friendly one, we’re getting to know each other,” you were quick to swat away his accusations.

“Well I do not approve,” Jungkook stated, “but it seems you’ve already made up your mind.”

“I have, and I’m going to have fun.”

In all honesty, Changbin’s suggestion was a welcome distraction for you to push back all those weird thoughts you’d been having about Jungkook lately. It happened sometimes, right? You were friends, so of course you would feel a little weird and awkward about his newly piqued interest in other girls.

Right?

And plus, Changbin was kind of cute. In that rugged, dishevelled manner. As cute as a sulky dog.

Which was why you were more than a little surprised to find Jungkook beside Changbin when you arrived to your desired destination. Your jaw dropped, eyes going wide as they flitted between one and the other.

“What are you doing here?” You screeched, wanting to bang your head against something. You had agrees to this to make you forget all about Jungkook. So what were you supposed to do now?!

“Changbin thought it would be fun to invite Sara and I,” Jungkook said, “I thought you would be happy.”

Your eyes narrowed into slits, “what is wrong with you?” You hissed at him, “that wasn’t part of the plan.”

“Hey, the more the merrier right?” Changbin grinned mischievously, the kind of grin that made you want to slap it right off.

In a desperate attempt to set things straight, you turned back to Jungkook, “I thought you didn’t like arcades—“

“Oh relax Y/N, why are you so stiff?” Changbin cut you off, “it’s a double date. I’m sure Jungkook will love it just as much as you will.”

You opened your mouth to protest only to find none other than Sara bounding up to tour group with the biggest smile on her face, “I’m so ready for this!” She squealed, “I haven’t been to the arcade in so long!”

If you were feeling bad about yourself initially, it was nothing compared to how you felt now seeing her all dressed up in a cute outfit while you had just opted for jeans and a simple t-shirt. This feeling merely grew like a weed spreading through your body as the group decided to tackle the racing games first.

“Y/N hates racing games,” Jungkook said as they approached the arena already filled with people. It seemed as though there was already an ongoing race, with two boys neck to neck for the first place, “maybe we should start with something else.”

“But I like racing games,” Sara whined with a pout, causing you to roll your eyes inwardly. There was a whoop as the winner jumped up and ran out, followed by the loser grumbling under his breath.

“It’s fine,” you said to Jungkook before gesturing towards the now vacant seat, “I’ll sit out on this one.”

On and on it went, the torture of having to restrain yourself from pulling Sara’s hair out despite the fact that she wasn’t even all that bad to begin with. Actually, she was quite a nice girl and you could even enjoy her presence, if not for the fact that it was clear as day she was smitten with your best friend.

And it didn’t seem like your best friend minded either, from the looks of it. They spent the entire afternoon glued to each other’s side and it took everything in you not to smash something when you spotted a plushie cradled under Sara’s arm when they found their way back to you and Changbin who were currently indulging in a zombie fight. Or rather, you were indulging and he was making fun of you for it.

“Well, seems like you two had some fun,” Changbin said cheerfully.

“Shut up Changbin,” you muttered before turning away. This whole afternoon was starting to make your head hurt, “I’m going home.“

“Y/N—“ you ignored Jungkook’s call in favour of walking away as something snapped off between your heartstrings. You bit down onto your lower lip, restraining it from trembling as you focused on getting as far away as fast as you possibly could.

But a voice pierced through the cacophony of sounds to call your name and though you wished to ignore it, you had no other choice but to turn around when it seemed to get closer to you— to be faced with none other than a dishevelled Jungkook.

“Why are you upset?”

You almost laughed at his question. Indeed, no one was more blunt than Jungkook. The back of your throat tightened.

“I’m not upset.” You managed to answer.

“Then why are you looking at me like that? Like you’re angry at me or something. It’s scaring me a little.”

“I—“ you pressed your lips together, “can’t you just drop it this one time? I’m tired and I want to go home.”

“I’ll come with you—“

“No,” you cut him off more firmly than was necessary, “you stay with Sara. She needs you.”

“But—“

“See you around, Jungkook.”

And before he could say anything else, you were walking down the pavement like there was fire at your heels, glad that you didn’t turn back to watch Jungkoo gaze at you until you disappeared around the block.

———

I don’t like him.

I don’t like him, you kept chanting. I don’t like him.

what was there to like? Not his stuck-up fashion sense that made as if he’d stepped out of a 90’s movie, not the unflattering way his hair was glued to the sides of his face, and definitely not the way he chortled whenever he found something really funny, an ungrateful act at its best, surely.

But dear god you would’ve been lying to say that you hadn’t been thinking of Jungkook for this past week.

Midterms were coming up and winter was making its arrival known, the smell of pumpkin spice lattes and hot cocoa drifting through the food hall campus as groups of students scattered around with textbooks perched precariously atop tables to cram everything they could last minute.

To distract yourself from those weird, alienating thoughts about your best friend, you decided to do the same. Unfortunately for you, Yoona and Jimin thought you were being utterly and unbelievably stupid.

“Why can’t you two just make up and then everyone can be happy?” Jimin asked in exasperation one day when he stumbled in on you and Jungkook exchanging stiff greetings (mostly you though) before parting ways.

You glared at him, “he’s the one hanging out with Lee Sara, not me.”

“Well he says that you seeing Sara makes you mad, so obviously he’s going to try to steer her away from you,” Jimin explained as he flipped open his computer science textbook, “you know how his brain works, Y/N. Don’t tell me you didn’t realize his intentions.”

You grumbled out an agreement between sips of your too-strong coffee and had to admit to yourself that Jimin was right. Jungkook had been doing it with all the right intentions. He never did understand the concept of jealousy and envy and the horrible desire to have someone to yourself. And that was exactly what you felt.

So it didn’t take you by surprise when the said young man turned up Friday night with a bag of donuts in hand and some hot chocolate in the other, claiming that you two had made plans for the evening. Something about a study session that you yourself had forgotten about until you checked your phone calendar.

“You didn’t have to,” was what you grumbled out as you let him in and flopping down onto your couch as he proceeded to pull off his shoes by your doorway, “that was a long time ago. It’s not like I was prepared to expect you.”

“That’s quite alright. I’ve seen your place in worse shape,” Jungkook replied. He placed the food on your coffee table before pulling out his textbook and you watched him, wondering why in the world did he make your heart twist and turn and snap with endless turns of emotions when there were so many other men out there who at least understood the concepts of relationships.

No. I don’t like him, you chanted, I’m just being jealous. A jealous best friend.

“Why did you come?” The words blurted out of your mouth before you could stop them. You quickly averted your eyes when his flickered up in curiosity.

“Because we agreed to have a study session at your house,” he said simply, as logical as ever, “we agreed on it a few weeks ago.”

“Right, forgive me for not remembering,” you said through clenched teeth, “but you didn’t have to ditch Sara for me—“

“Do you not like Sara?”

“What?”

“Do you not like her? You keep mentioning her every time we’re together. And then Jimin said something weird to me last week,” Jungkook shifted to face you better and that made you notice that for the first time, he was in sweatpants and a normal hoodie, and his hair —his hair was down and freshly washed, hanging over his face.

Cute.

You were so distracted by his appearance that you almost missed his little speech, “what did Jimin say?”

“That I wasn’t giving you enough of my time and attention, which is why you keep being mad.”

That little fucker. You were going to kill this man. You swallowed and leaned back against the couch, “that’s not true.”

“Then you’re not mad at me?”

You didn’t know how to answer his question without lying and knowing Jungkook, he was good at sniffing that out. So you changed the subject instead, “hey, I think we should order some chicken. Do you want some?”

Jungkook’s eyebrows dipped into a frown, but he didn’t push it and agreed on ordering some takeout before you both settled into comfortable silence. Snow drifted down outside your window pane as the night wore on and the more you focused on anything that wasn’t Jungkook, the easier it was to fill the sudden awkward silence that prevailed, merely broken by the shuffling of papers and the scrape of pen marks.

“You’re not in your Jungkook clothes,” you suddenly asked out of the blue, almost regretting it when Jungkook’s curious gaze searched your face.

From the corner of your eye, you noticed his eyebrows furrowing together, “Jungkook clothes?”

“Yeah, clothes that you always wear. Aka your shirt tucked into pants. And what’s up with your hair? It’s all like—casual.”

He touched his tuft of hair self-consciously, “I just took a shower. I can’t put gel in it right after showering.”

You crossed your arms over your chest before you leaned back against the edge of the couch, your knee brushing his as you crossed your legs, “so you do know how to dress like a normal human being.”

“What is that supposed to mean?” Jungkook flipped through his physics workbook as he spoke, “I don’t think t-shirts are appropriate to attend lectures. They’re not flattering at all and show lack of respect.”

“Oh because you think tucking your shirt into your pants shows respect?” You snickered impulsively, causing Jungkook to scowl at you as he said, “well I never complained about your lack of clothes.”

“Sorry sorry,” you tried toning down on the laughter, “it’s just—my bad Jungkook. I didn’t mean to offend you and your…casual clothes.” Your voice broke into another round of laughter at that and Jungkook’s ears reddened before he flung a pillow at your face.

“Ouch,” you groaned, rubbing your nose from where it had bounced off, “that was a bit brutal.”

“I don’t recall you deserving any type of gentle treatment,” he retorted, “now let me finish my physics assignment otherwise we’ll be here all night.”

Truth to be told, you both finished around midnight and agreed on going out for some late midnight snack, quickly zipping up your coat and boots before shoving a beanie on your head.

“Wait,” Jungkook said just as you were about to open the door, and you felt his hand — it was warm and big, bigger than you thought it was — at your cheek, pushing a few strands of hair under your beanie.

The action caught you off-guard and you blinked, noticing just how close Jungkook was. So close that if you moved, your nose would brush against the nape of his neck.

“There,” Jungkook leaned back and all the warmth was gone, leaving only your reddened cheeks in its place.

No ice cream parlor seemed to be open at this time, forcing you to settle on some ice cream sticks from the convenience store. You sat outside on the freezing steps, butts going numb as you indulged in the sweet treat.

“That’s so good,” you mumbled through a mouthful of chocolate ice, “it’s been a while since I’ve had ice cream.”

“I’m not particularly a fan,” Jungkook ate his own stick of vanilla cone, “but this one is not bad.”

“Not bad, but you’re still eating it.”

“Mostly to accompany you.”

“Oh I’m touched,” your tone dripped with sarcasm, “you do that a lot with Sara too? Accompany her because she likes doing things that you necessarily don’t?”

“Y/N,” the way Jungkook said your name had you pause, eyes flickering over to his face only to see that he was already watching you, dark orbs swirling with something you couldn’t quite place.

When he spoke next, his voice was soft, yet firm:

“I don’t really appreciate you talking about Sara this way.”

Your throat went dry, “i—I didn’t—“

“You might be a little envious that I spend time with her, but she is my friend. As you are. You do not have to feel the need to bring her down just because you are a bit envious—“

“I am not envious,” you snapped back automatically, anger curling though your stomach like a rising flame, “I just—I’m just trying to say that people aren’t necessarily who you think they are, Jungkook. You should know that.”

Jungkook looked at you for a long, drawn-out moment, “I appreciate your concern, but not this way Y/N.”

It broke something inside your heart, the way he kept on tugging down your pride and your walls like he’s having the time of his life ripping it apart at the seams, and you couldn’t help feeling the sudden clog of emotion at the base of your throat at how serious he was being about this. He’d never spoken this way to you before, this was a first.

And it hurt.

“Fine then,” you murmured out. You had finished the ice cream by then and wrapped it back up in its package before tossing it into the trash with more force than necessary, “I won’t do that anymore. And I’m sorry if that upset you.”

“Y/N,” Jungkook called as you turned your back on him, “what is it that you’re not telling me? You have that face again.”

“What face?” You play dumb. Since when was Jungkook so invested in knowing every facial expression you possessed?

He pointed at you, “that. You look mad at me, but not quite mad. There’s something else that you’re not telling me.”

“I’ve already told you everything,” you tried to laugh, “it’s just how my face is—“

Jungkook suddenly leaned in close. Too close. So close you saw the sparkles in his doe eyes and a yelp died in the back of your throat, “that’s not true and you know it.” He murmured, sounding so much more like a man rather than himself that it caused goosebumps to rise along the back of your arms.

“Fine,” you quickly scrambled for some space, hating the way your heart seemed to beat out of your chest and you wondered briefly whether he could hear it too, “I just feel like you’re not the same anymore. We barely hang out and—and I just don’t like sharing you. I’m a jealous bitch, alright? That’s it. Are we done now?”

“So you were angry at me for spending too much time with Sara.”

“Well—yes, but—“

“Why?” He cut you off, dark eyes so intense on your face that it made you want to squirm. You held your ground though, biting down on your lower lip and curling your fingers into your sweater sleeves.

“Why…what?” Again, you played dumb even though something in your heart resonated at that. Realization washed over you like a tidal wave the more Jungkook kept on gazing at you, and you back at him.

There was something. Of course there was something. You were an idiot all along to not have listened to Changbin in the first place.

You were an idiot. In love.

Shit.

“I need to go,” you scrambled back too quickly for him to grasp your arm and said without looking at him, “I’ll see you around Jungkook. No need to walk me back.”

You didn’t wait to hear Jungkook’s protest as your feet took off on the pavement, legs pumping with adrenaline and panic until you reached the confines of your flat. Only then did you slide down to the floor and lean your head back against the door, wondering when you had signed up for such an ordeal.

And why, out of all people, was it Jungkook?

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manawari · 11 months

Text

"Love" as told by Kim Gongja and Raviel Ivansia (1/?):

“I will value your judgment over mine. I will weigh your advice heavier than my principles. I will not value myself the most. I will follow you. But in return.”

I looked at the lady’s face. With our hands clasped together, the distance between us was very short. Her red eyes. I knew them to be the same color as her heart.

“Please treat me the same way.”

“……”

“If you do something wrong, I’ll tell you that it was wrong. What I really think, what I see, what I feel. I’ll confess everything to you without a single lie. However, it cannot be one-sided. If I give you my heart, how shall I breathe? I’ll end up choking and dying. Only if you give me your heart will I be able to live.”

I gripped the Lady of the Silver Lily’s hand a little more strongly.

“If you want to see me go mad, please go mad with me.”

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

“If you brought me here to make me give up, you were wrong, milady. I didn’t fall in love with you because your heart isn’t ugly.”

The Lady of the Silver Lily paused very briefly. Love. It was because of this word. My face became hot when I said it out loud, but I didn’t think to hesitate.

“It’s only been one day since you came to love me. My teaching is brilliant.”

“Does it matter that it’s only been a day? Would it have been better if I loved you for a year? A thousand days? Do you want me to return after that?”

“……”

“I can see what kind of people you despise. And what you despise is the same as what I hate. I can see what scars you wear and how you are hurt. I love the way you live. Because, you and I, we live the same life.”

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

I had never said something like this to anyone else. I wasn’t used to it. But I wanted to keep the person in front of me. And I wanted the Lady of the Silver Lily to keep me. I wanted us to share one life and have each other.

“I love you as much as I love myself. I wish you could love me as much as I love you.”

These were my true feelings.

And the only method I knew was to exclaim it with all my heart.

“I will definitely make you love me. I won’t tell you to abandon the crown prince. Even if I don’t ask you to, you will abandon him one day.”

“My heart is…”

“Yes. But it doesn’t matter if your heart is held hostage by the world. If that’s the problem, I’ll free you. But if you still love the crown prince, then I’ll become an even better person than he is and stay by your side.”

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

I whispered in the Lady of the Silver Lily’s ear.

“The two of us are regressors. The only two in the world.”

I knew that my face was red. But I said what I had to say.

“There will be a lot of times that only you and I can enjoy. During those times, I’ll give you such breathtaking memories that they will make your memory of the prince fade away. I’ll try my best.”

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

“…You are arrogant. I am satisfied with living my life.”

“I suppose you are. I feel the same way. Still, I want to help you. Is it arrogant to want to help the one you love? Then, I’ll become an arrogant person.”

The Lady of the Silver Lily closed her lips. She, too, was trying to help the prince in her own way. Whether or not she admitted it, the two of us were alike.

“What do you want from me?”

“When the world ends this time, please stay with me.”

“Is that all?”

“Yes.”

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

“And, if it’s possible, I would be grateful if you could make me fall deeper in love with you. It would be wonderful if I fell so deeply, foolishly in love with you that I could never escape.”

“Is that what you’re requesting from me now?”

“It’s all right. I’m easy. My heart beats wildly even if Your Ladyship just holds my hand.”

The Lady of the Silver Lily looked at me like she was dumbfounded.

“How shameless… Fine. I told you that I would teach you about love, so I shall make good on my promise.”

The Lady of the Silver Lily grabbed my hand. It felt soft. Her hands were bare. The touch of her hand was wrapped around my right hand. Last night, my heart pounded from the memory of the Lady of the Silver Lily’s perfume.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

“Good. Do you remember the first lesson I taught you about love?”

“Love starts like a bitch…”

“Well done.”

The Lady of the Silver Lily’s hands cupped my cheeks.

Then.

“I’ll be your first bitch of a lover.”

The moon swallowed the light.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

“Raviel.”

Thump.

“Raviel Ivansia.”

[The immersion toward the character is deepened.]

[Currently, your immersion rate is 62%.]

I simply whispered the name of my beloved lover. Yet, my heart jumped, I couldn’t breathe, and the face of the man in the mirror blushed. Even I could read my expression with ease.

“…I really love her.”

It was amazing.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

“I don’t like it when the person I love tries to take everything upon herself. No, I hate it. I would want her to step up when I’m tired, and when she’s tired, I’ll bear her troubles.”

“We’re only in a fake relationship.”

“It doesn’t matter. I’m serious.”

“…Don’t you feel insulted?”

“Aha. Your Ladyship doesn’t know me yet.”

How could a person be so lovely? I smiled a little.

“I’m a positive guy. Do you think I’ll be depressed or get an inferiority complex just because we’re in a fake relationship? Far from it; I think of it as an opportunity. Anyway, you will come to love me.”

“My goodness. Where is this confidence coming from?”

“It’s because you’ll spend time with just me. Until you tell me that you’re [tired of me], I won’t give up no matter what.”

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

I wanted to love her like crazy.

“Are you crying?”

“No.”

“You’re lying.”

“Yes.”

“I hate lies. It’s all right to joke, but don’t tell me any lies. I won’t lie to you, either. I won’t lie to you with words, gestures, nor glances.”

“Are you crying?”

“……”

“If you don’t want to talk, you have the right to stay silent. I won’t press you. I won’t push you. We can wait slowly until the other person wants to talk.”

“Yes.”

Thank goodness.

Thank goodness that I had fallen in love with her.

Thank goodness that I became someone who could love her.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

In the middle of the ballroom, we faced each other.

I moved my feet.

The Lady of the Silver Lily also stepped forward.

In the place where dozens of shadows fluttered, under the white chandelier, we kissed, unable to say who had moved first.

We needed no words.

Around us, voices of astonishment sounded. We ignored them. The band who had been playing music in the ballroom stopped. The ladies and gentlemen stopped dancing and stared at us. Still, we ignored them.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

I’m happy to be with you.

It would be an exaggeration to say I lived this life just to meet you, but it isn’t a lie to say I’ll live for you. What a relief. I could say that without a single lie.

“Are you crying again?”

I could be that sort of person.

“Let’s make a promise.”

I could be a person who cares for someone.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

The Lady of the Silver Lily grabbed my hand and pulled.

“Let’s go.”

“Ah. Yes.”

After making the ballroom fall into shock and fear… we left.

We just left.

No matter how or why, no one could stop us.

Maybe they could have stopped me or the Lady of the Silver Lily individually, but it wasn’t possible when we were together. If we wanted to leave, we left. If they still stood in our way? Fuck ’em. How could they stop the regressor couple?

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

“I see. So you will be able to summon me, too.”

“You’ve died with me nine times, so I can summon nine different Raviels.”

“I forbid it.”

“All right.”

I never intended to summon the Lady of the Silver Lily in the first place. No matter what the circumstances were. But her voice and words cut off the possibility for good.

Love was a sacred promise and a contract.

We were writing our own laws, rules for just us two.

“I’ll add one more thing to your punishment should you betray me. Dispose of that skill.”

“I will.”

Then, I chose my next words. She was the one I loved. She was the one who would love me. She was the person I had to treasure and treat cautiously the most in the world.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

“Don’t die even when it’s an easy escape. You are my lover. You can’t be someone who throws away his life carelessly. Even if you don’t think you can escape death, struggle until the end.”

I was silent.

I was engraving the promise I made with her in my heart.

“I won’t.”

“Tell me what you want from me.”

“When I ask you to trust me, please believe in me.”

“I will always trust you.”

The carriage rattled. Using that slight vibration as an excuse, the Lady of the Silver Lily and I drew closer. Our lips met.

From that day on.

We became each other’s love.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

“Are you still all right?”

“Raviel.”

I was scared.

“I love you. I love you, Raviel…”

“I know.”

“Even if I’m born again, I’ll still love you. So, so that I can never forget you, don’t let me forget you even if I die…”

“I know.”

Our lips met.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Are you listening?

I am happy because of you. I don’t want to lose you. I don’t want to let go of the time I’ve spent with you like this.

You said this before. That you would ‘write a diary starting today.’ You said that you would show me all of your days. Those words, were they lies?

You said, ‘I will learn music.’ I wanted to spend a quiet evening listening to you play. Was that wish really a lie?

I want to see your days. I want to say goodnight to you. Your days will surely make me smile, and evenings with you will be happy. I want my smile and your happiness to overlap.

I don’t want to kill you.

I don’t want to lose you.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Look at me.

Look at you beside me.

You’re a dumb person. You’re also naive. I wondered how you survived in the world with such innocence, but I soon learned that you had died thousands of times.

You had many reasons to abandon your innocence. There were few reasons to keep your naivety. To you, who did not throw away your innocence despite the many reasons and kept it when you didn’t need to, I simply say:

I love your innocence.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

You alone cannot protect yourself.

I alone cannot protect this world.

But if it’s the two of us, you and I, we can do anything.

I’m also afraid. Killing you is terrifying.

Staying beside you, even though I know I’ll be hurt, is hellishly frightening.

But my fears will not stand in my way of being with you.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Listen.

This is the scar you left on me.

-Gongja.

Don’t forget.

-…Who are you calling for?

Never. Don’t forget, even if you die.

-My lover.

The man who offered me his heart.

-The man to whom I will offer mine.

You, in this place.

You live in my heart.

-Have a safe trip.

-……

-I’ll be waiting for you.

Are you listening?

Can you hear it?

Gongja.

I love you.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

The Lady of the Silver Lily smiled a little.

“It’s troublesome to be proposed to like this. I love your voice. Do you understand? If you don’t say it yourself, I won’t listen. So, you have to come back to me quickly.”

My heart pounded.

“I’m going to kill you. I’ll kill you over and over until you come back. If you can come back by seeing my scars, I’ll show you them as many times as necessary.”

“Milady…”

“So look at my wounds and suffer. Look at the scar you left on me. Look at it again and again. There are traces of you there.”

The Lady of the Silver Lily reached out her hands and grabbed my neck.

“You are the only person in this world who can kill me.”

Gently.

“You should know that I’m the only person who can kill you.”

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

You were born as the daughter of the Duke of Ivansia. You had a sad mother and lived a sad life. Your husband was decided before you were born, and after you were born, you dedicated your life to that person.

You are a white flower.

You are called the Moon of Ivansia, you were called the heiress, and I called you Your Ladyship.

“You’ve arrived.”

“……”

You are standing in the hallway. In this hallway, in the dark night, you are like a lone island in the sea. An infinite sea surrounded you. I heard the crashing waves.

You are not Heiress Ivansia, not the Lady of the Duchy, nor Your Ladyship.

“Raviel.”

The white flower smiles.

“I was waiting, Gongja.”

I love you.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

I ran and hugged her.

“Raviel.”

A million words were suspended in my mouth.

I could say [I’m sorry].

I’m sorry I left you a permanent scar.

I’m really sorry.

I could also say [thank you].

Thank you for trusting me, thank you for waiting for me, and most of all, thank you for loving me.

For loving someone like me.

But what I wanted to say was not an apology, nor was it words of thanks. This wasn’t the first time I apologized to her, and this wasn’t the first time I would be grateful to her.

In this moment, the night we reunited, I didn’t want to apologize or thank her.

‘Something I’ve never said before.’

I wanted to present her words that I could only say to her once. I wanted to give her an utterance I would only say one time in my whole life. My first. My last. I wanted to dedicate my time to Raviel Ivansia.

So. Therefore. That was why.

I took Raviel’s hand.

“Let’s get married.”

A marriage proposal.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Raviel slowly nodded.

“I am called many names. I received the epithet of the Silver Lily from the emperor. The empire calls me by my title, Heiress Ivansia. But my name, Raviel, will eternally belong only to you.”

We kissed.

Deeply.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

“This is the world I live in. I am loyal to this empire. My world and my nation needs to recognize my marriage. Even if you are a commoner here, you are my lover, and every citizen of the empire must accept you.”

“All right. But can we expect everyone to react well…?”

“It’s fine, Gongja,” Raviel said composedly. “Citizens who do not recognize you will die by my hands.”

What do I do? She was too cool. I was falling in love again. I wanted to fall in love with her again and again.

“I understand. Let’s have our wedding in your world, Raviel. But I also have a condition.”

“Speak it.”

“Breaking the engagement with the prince is necessary, but you shouldn’t be the one to initiate it. I won’t be able to forgive anyone who speaks poorly of you when they know nothing.”

If anyone tried to point fingers at my beloved, I would break that finger. If anyone gossiped about her, I would cut off their tongue. If anyone besmirched her, I would kill them.

I wasn’t kidding.

I’d give them a taste of hell.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

“Husband…?”

Raviel’s eyelashes fluttered. Her shoulders shrank a bit.

‘What the heck is this reaction?’

I didn’t know it at first since Raviel kept a straight face, but I soon realized it. No way. Maybe? Could it be? No, this wasn’t possible, even if it was the end of the world, but…

“Raviel. Are you embarrassed right now?”

“Mm…”

Raviel mumbled.

“It’s insanely adorable. My man is…”

Her embarrassment infected me in an instant. This was crazy.

My face turned red, and my lips were dry. Still, my head worked just fine. At this time, it would be best to counterattack by saying [Raviel is the cutest person in the world]. I could return all the damage I’d received from Raviel so far. But I couldn’t do that. I felt so flustered I thought I would die.

Instead, I compromised.

“Husband.”

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Raviel covered her lips with a white napkin.

“You thought of me.”

“Yes.”

“Gongja. You’ve already helped me. The people of the world won’t know this, but you’ve saved this world from destruction. You’ll continue to save it in the future. Isn’t it all right for you to do what you wish, even a little?”

“No.”

I shook my head firmly.

“I’ll be with you all my life, Raviel. For the rest of our lives. I don’t want to obsess over [what I’ve done for Raviel]. I don’t even want to think about it. I want to give you more things, things that are more precious than anything I’ve done for you before.”

“……”

“I want it so that meeting me would be the greatest fortune in your life. I hope that being beside me will be your greatest happiness. I want to mean the most to you, Raviel.”

“…It’s not a matter of fortune or happiness.”

Raviel stood up from the table.

She slowly approached me and bent down.

“You are my one miracle.”

Our lips met.

#this is an example of an author who knows what is romance and how to write romance 🤌#i hardly feel anything when it comes to that genre (only to cringe and abandon it) but this? THIS IS A GEMSTONE #these two could be mistaken as shakespeare's characters #they are the SUICIDE/REGRESSOR COUPLE #putting this as (1/?) since i haven't finished reading the novel yet #sss class suicide hunter #sss class revival hunter #kim gongja #raviel ivansia #ravja

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