#hyunwoo angst | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

kingminie · 6 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?”

338 notes · View notes

straylightdream · 1 year

Text

I don't give a fuck about your friends - 𝔯𝔦𝔤𝔥𝔱 𝔥𝔢𝔯𝔢

𝐟𝐞𝐚𝐭: lee minho x f.reader

friends to lovers

↳ Oh baby, take a look around I'm the only one that hasn't walked out, Im right here.

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 2k

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: angst, smut warning below the cut.

𝐚𝐧: part of a series called ohmami of short one shots inspired by Chase Atlantic songs. This one was inspired by Right Here. If you would like to be tagged in all stories for this series or a specific boys please fill out this form.

𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐝𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐫𝐞𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐠 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐠𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐥𝐲 𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐲 𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐬.

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: unprotected sex, soft dom minho, rougher passionate sex, creampie, size kink, dirty talk, minho calls the reader the name Pretty.

It’s been a rough night to say the least. A night out with your friends went wrong. A bunch of drunk girls in the club is never a good mix, followed by watching a so-called friend makeout with your ex who you thought at one point you were gonna marry him. The sight of them kissing was like a bucket of cold water being dumped on you. Tears well in your eyes as you rush off to the hallway near the bathrooms. You fight back crying as you call the only person you want to see at that moment.

Walking back to the table where a few friends were, you let them know you were heading out. The buzz you had has faded away as a feeling of sadness takes over. Walking outside the cold air catches you by surprise. Taking a deep breath you wrap your arms around your body trying to find some warmth. You stand outside alone for all of five minutes when you see the only person you want to see walking towards. He’s dressed in gray sweats with a hoodie underneath and coat over the top.

You practically jog towards him, wrapping your arms around him, throwing yourself into his chest. There is a moment of silence as you cling to him. His hand gently rubs your back making you feel warmer.

“Thank you for saving me.”

“That’s what friends are for,” he presses his lips to the top of your head.

Pulling away he takes off his coat and holds it out for you. You know he’ll probably be cold walking back to his car but there is no use in fighting him. Pulling his coat on you immediately notice his eyes are focused on you. He steps closer to you resting his hand on your cheek. Ever so slowly be wipes away the stray tear that had slid down your cheek.

“You’re too pretty to be sad,” his voice was calm and gentle.

Arriving at his car he helps you in the passenger side before shutting the door. The drive back to his apartment is quiet. You can feel him looking over at you every so often as you wipe away the stray tears that keep falling. He hasn’t really asked you what’s wrong but you know he will.

You arrive at his apartment he shares with Jisung and you notice right away there is no sign of his roommate. Without thinking the moment he shuts the door you lean forward to kiss him just like you always do. You’re caught off guard when he pulls away the moment your lips touch. The small feeling of rejection stings but you know it’s because he knows you’re upset.

“Are you going to tell me what’s wrong?” He seems frustrated. You can’t blame him though. Recently anytime something has gone wrong in your life you always call him. He never tells you he can’t come to your rescue. He always does and every time no matter if it’s day or night it always ends the same way with you naked and spread out underneath him. He normally doesn’t say anything when you throw yourself at him. Peeling away your clothes as you desperately cling to him trying to make yourself feel better.

“Mae was all over Hyunwoo at the club. I looked out on the dance floor and saw my friend making out with the guy that broke my heart.”

He doesn’t say anything, he just takes a deep breath and steps closer to you. Minho hated Hyunwoo and after you got your heart broken he hated your ex even more.

“She’s not your friend if she would do something that she knows would hurt you.” His hand rests on your side standing close to you.

“I’m probably just being sensitive,” you sigh, wiping away your tears. “I have that trip with them next weekend. I know she wouldn’t intentionally do something to hurt me.” You're an absolute fool and you know it. Mae and a bunch of the other girls are selfish and you know deep down inside you need to cut them off. Minho has told you over and over again he doesn’t like most of your friends in that group and you know why. He doesn’t say anything for a moment instead he moves away from your hand and gently rests his hand on your cheek. His thumb swipes away the tears that are staining your cheek.

“Come stay with me next weekend. I don’t think you should go on that trip.” From the moment Minho heard that you were supposed to have a girls weekend he was instantly against it. He thought most of the girls that you had started hanging out with since college were fake. After seeing one of them make out with the man that broke your heart led you to believe he might be right.

“They’ll be upset if I cancel on them,” you sigh.

“It doesn’t matter.”

“‘Min they’re my friends. It does matter.”

“I don’t give a fuck about your friends. I’m the one who is always right here. They don’t treat you right. If they were true friends they would have seen you were upset tonight and wouldn’t have let you leave crying.”

“Min,” his words catch you off guard.

“I’m being honest. I don’t give a fuck about your so called friends. I just want you to be happy and I think being with me instead of them would make you happy.”

Even though your head is telling you that you should go on this trip, you want to listen to your heart and stay with Minho.

“What happens if I stay here?”

“We’ll figure out whatever we are.” He pushes his figures through your hair tilting your head back. His face softens as your eyes lock.

“We’re not just friends?” You’re not dumb you know you’re more than friends. If you were just friends you wouldn’t throw yourself at him any chance you get. If he was just your friend you wouldn’t daydream about kissing him.

He pulls back from you shaking his head. “I don’t fuck my friends.” He starts walking away from you heading off to his room. You’re caught off guard by his bold statement but it lets you know he feels the same way you do. Without thinking anymore you follow him. Walking into his room you notice the light on in the bathroom connected to his room. You wait sitting on his bed for him to walk back in. Walking back into his bedroom he pulls off his shirt tossing it in the hamper by his closet. He strips down to his boxers. You silently sit there watching him. You should have known at some point or another things between you and Minho would come to a head. You couldn’t go on sleeping together without talking about how you really get.

“Are you going to skip that trip?” He finally breaks the silence.

“I want to know what it’s like to be more than friends with you.” This is your way of telling him you aren’t going on that trip.

“Stand up for me,” he says walking towards you. You listen to him standing at the foot of the bed. “Those girls aren’t good for you. They don’t care about your feelings and I don’t like that.”

“I know they don’t.” You get sad again thinking about how your night went.

“Strip down to your underwear please.” He doesn’t normally boss you around when you sleep together. He’s always had dominant energy about him, but when you have sex he always lets you do what you want. Every time you’ve slept together it’s been when you’re upset or want a form of stress release. You realize you’ve been selfish and never really asked Minho what he likes or what he wants.

Standing there in just your underwear you reach out resting your hand on his cheek, “what do you want from me?” You ask.

“Anything you’re willing to give me. I want every part of you.”

“Minho I mean what do you want if you don’t want to be just friends?”

His hand rests on your bare side pulling you close to him. You take a deep breath taking in his closeness. “Pretty, I want to be your everything. I want to make you happy and show you what it’s like to be loved.” Leaning in closer he rested his forehead against yours.

“I want you to be my everything.” You didn’t want to just be friends. You wanted so much more with him.

His lips crash against yours and he kisses you like he needs you to breathe. His hands grip your soft sides as your lips move together.

Pulling away you both removed the rest of your clothes. Laying on his bed completely bare he sits between your spread thighs as he rubs his hardened length through your folds.

“Min put it in,” you practically whine wanting him inside you.

A smirk tugs at his lips as slowly pushes his length into you earning a moan. He moves at a slow pace letting you adjust to his girth. The groan that passes his lips as he bottoms out is intoxicating. Your hands reach for his wanting to hold on to him. He thrust into you at a firm but steady place. The blissed out look on his face makes you weak.

“Pretty, you’re so tight. Is my cock too big for you?” He loves to make you feel small. You weren’t a tiny girl by any means but the way he talks about his size makes your head spin.

With one particularly hard thrust makes you practically scream his name. A soft laugh passes his lips as he thrust hard again causing your breast to bounce.

“Min-“ you moan.

“Do you like it when I’m rough?” You just silently nod your head, unable to fully respond. He grabs one of your legs, putting it over his shoulder before he continues his pace. His finger toys with your clit knowing just the right way to touch you to make you scream his name again.

He keeps his steady pace leaving you a panting mess. One of your hands grip the cotton sheets next to you while the other grasp your breast. Your thumb drags across your sensitive nipple adding to the overwhelming sensation taking over your body.

“Fuck you look good touching yourself while you’re taking my cock,” he groans. His dirty words come close to pushing you over the edge.

“I’m so clo- clo close.” He’s left you a stuttering mess.

“Does pretty want to come?”

“Fuck,” you whine nodding your head.

“Do it then,” he says, thrusting harder.

Pulling your leg off his shoulder he quickly changes his position so he is hovering right over you. He keeps his pace as he leaves a trail of open mouth kisses from your chest up to your lips. The moment your lips together you moan into his mouth as you fall apart. Your walls flutter around him as a white hot wave crashes over you. He thrust into you over and over again as you ride out your high.

His thrust gets sloppier as he chases his own release. He comes painting your walls white moaning your name. He stays plastered on top of you riding out his release. Ever so slowly he pulls himself away from you. He sits back on his hunches watching for a moment as his release drips out of you. Reaching over to his nightstand where he keeps a box of tissues he always wipes his release before laying on the bed next to you. You’re absolutely exhausted and feel like you’re on the verge of falling asleep.

“Pretty?” He says pulling your sleepy body close to his.

“Yeah?”

“I meant what I said. I’ve always been right here, and I don’t want to be just friends.”

You smile nuzzling close to him, “Minho we’re definitely more than friends, and I’m glad you’ve always been right here.”

His lips gently press to the top of your head before you fall asleep in his arms.

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#stray kids #lee know #stray kids smut #stray kids x reader #stray kids angst #lee know smut #lee know x reader #lee Minho #lee know angst #stray kids fan fiction #stray kids x you #stray kids reader insert #lee know reader insert #kpop #kpop fanfiction #kpop smut

1K notes · View notes

captainjoongki · 3 months

Text

me when queen of tears actually has tears and angst

HYUNWOO WANTING A DIVORCE IS ACTUALLY VALID BUT I DID NOT WANT IT REVEALED LIKE THIS IM DEVASTATED BABES

#queen of tears #kdrama

75 notes · View notes

atinyniki · 6 months

Text

take your time.

group: ateez !

pairing: idol!song mingi x f!reader

genre: angst with a fluffy ending

warnings + additional info: reader is referred to as y/n, established relationships, pregnancy, lots of blood, childbirth, arguments, hyunwoo (xikers) is y/ns little brother, mentions of a miscarriage, jiyoo is the daughter of mingi and y/n, guilt, kissing, reader almost miscarries, cpr on a newborn, mentions of divorce, mingi almost gets into a car accident, tad bit suggestive at the end, fainting.

authors note: holy fuck this is actually so sad... at least its a happy ending tho <3 i really hope you guys like this ! please dont read if youre not comfortable with themes relating to birth and miscarriage </3 this is also not proofread. english is not my first language, so please excuse any grammatical or spelling errors. happy reading :)

wc: 3107

HUGE TW, PROCEED WITH CAUTION: reader almost has a miscarriage, pregnancy, blood, and the pain that goes along with it.

“don’t fucking touch me.”

he instantly backs away, hands clasped in front of him. “we’re leaving.”

he looks back up at you, a crestfallen look on his face. “what…?”

“it’s not fair, mingi. you can’t just jump back into our lives like this.”

“i’m not jumping back, ive been here!”

“jiyoo doesn’t think you love her anymore.”

“what?!”

you huff in frustration, he’s clearly not getting the message. “don’t you get it? it’s because you’re never there, mingi. you might be in the house, but you’re still always working. you don’t have time for us, not at all, and come to think of it, you don’t deserve our love. so we’re leaving, i’ll come back once i’m ready.”

he lets the words sink in, still sat in shock. his daughter doesn’t even know if he loves him. he’s failed her, and he’s failed you. he’s even failed his son, before he was even born.

“i know you said not to touch… but can i do something?”

“a hug isn’t going to fix anything, mingi”

“i know, but can i still do something?”

“make it quick.”

he walks over to you, tears slipping from his eyes even though he tries to suppress them. he kneels down in front of you, lifting up your shirt to kiss your baby bump.

it’s the same thing he’s been doing every night, yet you’re never up to see him do it, and the sight alone causes tears to spring to your eyes. “i’ll see you soon buddy, i love you.”

he stands back up, mustering the best smile he possibly can with all the pain in his heart. “can i see jiyoo?”

you nod, and he instantly sprints to her room. “jiyoo? can i come in?”

she opens the door immediately, squealing in delight and throwing herself into her dads arms. “i missed you!”

“i know princess… i know.”

she instantly picks up on the tone in his voice, a little confused. “what’s wrong abba?”

“nothing! don’t worry baby… are you excited?”

her face instantly lights up at the mention of her little vacation. “yeah! im so excited to see uncle hyunwoo again, i missed him.”

he giggles along with her, pinching her cheek softly, “yeah, i bet you did munchkin.”

“i just wish you could be there with us…”

“it’ll be fun! tell me how your birthday went, yeah?”

she nods, hugging him tighter. “i will…”

a moment of silence passes, and she stays sat on his lap, hugging him and relaxing in his arms. mingi relishes in the moment, afraid that this might not happen again for a while.

“sugar?”

“mmm”, she replies sleepily.

“i love you…”

she turns back up to look at him, “i know abba.”

he shakes his head, guiding her face to look up at him with his two large hands. “no baby… i love you.”

“what’s going on?”

“please d-don’t forget it… i love you to the ends of the universe”

“i love you too, abba”

his façade is cracking, he can feel it. a singular tear slides down his face after he kisses her cheek, and he quickly wipes it away. this is for the best, and he knows that it’s what you both need right now.

“alright, i’ll call amma and she can help you pack, okay?”

“we already packed though?”

“oh… yeah i’ll just- i’ll go get her.”

you see him enter the living room again, “you two have fun yeah? call me if you need me.”

you can only nod, grabbing the bags and placing them in the trunk. you finally come back inside, ushering jiyoo out of her room and bringing her over to the car.

but before you get in, he stops you. “y/n.”

“hm?”

“i love you.”

you stop in your tracks, unable to say anything back. normally you’d reply with the same three words in a heartbeat, but it didn’t slip off the tongue naturally anymore.

it makes sense, considering how long it’s been since you’ve said it to him. “i know, mingi. take care.”

you get into your car, unable to bear the sight of him anymore, and you make your way out of the driveway. “amma, why is abba crying?”

“he’s not crying, baby.”

you turn your head to look at him, he’s sat on the porch, hands clasped over his mouth. he waves one final time, his face contorting into a painful expression.

and now you’re certain.

he’s crying.

“whatever you decide, we’ll be right here. we’re always here for you, you know that right?”

he nods, tears leaving his eyes. he normally stays strong, only letting the tears out around you. you’re his safe haven, and yet the tears seem unstoppable now.

they pour down relentlessly, unable to keep themselves in for mingis sake. san pours him a glass of water, sitting down next to hongjoong.

“i don’t think i can do this right now…”

“that’s okay mingi… you can go on hiatus. you need a break.”, hongjoong suggests.

“i don’t wanna let you guys down.”

“we don’t have much to do the next couple months, you know. we’ve recorded everything for the comeback anyways. please?”

he knows they’re only looking out for him. “okay… fine. i’ll finalize everything soon.”

the boys all comfort him through it. none of them have gone through this type of pain, but it seemed that they all knew how to comfort him.

he’s grateful, but he doesn’t feel fulfilled. he’s not happy. he’s not happy, because they’re not you.

he walks home that night, scared to drive in the state he’s in. his eyes are blurry, he can hardly see, but he tries his best to find his way back properly.

that is, until he crosses the road next to the dorms. he could’ve sworn the light wasn’t there. all he could process was a flash of white, and he braces himself for the impact.

the next thing he hears is a loud screech of the tires, and the driver instantly gets out to check on him. “mingi are you okay?”

he looks up at him, its hyunwoo, he realizes. “y-yeah im okay…”

he tries to walk back down the crosswalk, but hyunwoo stops him. “mingi…”

“i’m fine.”

more tears leave his eyes, and hyunwoo instantly goes to hug him. “you’ll be okay, i know it. just give her some time.”

mingi hugs him back even tighter, completely unaware that you’re watching from the backseat with jiyoo. “thank you.”

“i’m always here.”

that’s what everyone says. everyone is always there for him. you were always there for him.

but now you’re not. now you’re gone, because of him, and he has to deal with the consequences.

“h-have a good night hyunwoo.”

before he can answer, mingi sprints away, too scared to see him. his eyes are the same as yours, and he can’t bear to stare into them anymore.

he wants it all to end.

he scrolls through his twitter feed again, making sure his eyes aren’t deceiving him. no, they aren’t.

there’s an article about his rumored divorce, all he can do is hope you haven’t seen them yet. before he knows it, it hits twelve. he grabs his phone from the dresser, dialing your number.

no answer.

he tries again.

no answer.

he tries calling hyunwoo, and he finally picks up. “hello?”

“hey woo…”

“mingi?”

“sorry to bother, i was just wondering if jiyoo is still awake? i wanted to wish her a happy birthday.”

he chuckles awkwardly, “she’s awake… but i don’t think- um…”

“oh, yeah… that’s okay. can you just tell her i have a gift waiting for her at home? thanks…”

“yeah, i’ll tell her. how are you doing? i saw the articles.”

“i don’t know.”

“what do you mean?”

“i don’t know how im doing, not right now. goodnight hyunwoo”

“oh- i- goodnight?”

he quickly hangs up the phone, unable to say anymore. he’s scared for his life. is jiyoo having fun? are you doing okay with your pregnancy? are you still upset?

he hopes you’re feeling better, he truly doesn’t want you to waste your tears on him.

it’s been two months since you’ve last seen him, and you think you’re doing a lot better. you know you miss him, and you know you will return, but you don’t know if you’re ready yet.

you know it’s very unfair to him, not being able to see jiyoo, but there’s a lot going on in your life right now. you don’t think you’re ready to face him, even though you truly do miss him.

“amma?”

“yes baby?”

“this vacation is getting boring…”

you give her a soft smile, picking her up and placing her on your lap. “i know baby, we’ll go home soon.”

you play a little more with jiyoo, until you see her start to cry. it breaks your heart even more. you have to talk to him.

and so you do. you grab a couple things, bringing jiyoo in the car with you. you both arrive at your home not too long after, it’s been too long since you’ve even seen the place.

you knock on the door, and you hear shuffling from the end. your heart rate quickens, still scared of what’s to come, but you’ve come too far to let it go now.

he opens the door, a look of surprise on his face. and then his eyes meet yours. it’s almost as if it’s been flipped. last he saw you, your eyes were red, and his were happy, bright. and now his are red, and you look much better than you did before.

his eyes then fly to the little girl next to you, running over to give him a hug. he falls to his knees before he can even think, sobs racking his body once again. “abba! i missed you.”

his body shakes with his cries, smoothing down her hair and kissing her cheeks. “i missed you more, my princess…”

you enter the house, closing and locking the door behind you. you set your things down by the door, and you just sit there and watch. your heart melts at the sight.

you feel guilty for keeping them apart so long, but you needed time. maybe you still do, but there’s nothing you can do now.

he stands back up, bringing jiyoo to her room to get her into bed. “i don’t wanna sleep yet…”

“i know sweet girl… i’ll tell you what, if you sleep now, i’ll show you your dollhouse first thing tomorrow.”

“okay! goodnight abba!”

“i love you pumpkin.”

he leaves the room not too long after, watching you pace the room. you’re crying, he can see the streaks over your face. he slowly walks over you, careful not to startle you.

“are you not ready…?”

“i don’t know…”

“we don’t have to talk right now… but i’m here for you.”

you turn your head towards him, utterly touched by his words. you would have never guessed that he’d be so patient with you, and it finally slips naturally.

“i love you, mingi.”

“i love you too.”, he replies without missing a beat.

“i’m sorry i didn’t tell you when we left. it’s been eating me alive.”

“that’s okay, i put you in a lot of pain. i understand, i promise.”

a moment of silence passes between the two of you, only your shared sniffles heard from time to time.

“im sorry i came here unannounced. jiyoo just missed you a lot…”

silence.

“i missed you”

he looks back up at you, almost sobbing now. he tries to wipe his tears away, but they just keep coming back.

that’s how it is with mingi. you’re his safe place, and he will let every emotion out with you.

“i missed you so much more… you’d truly never believe it”, he whispers.

you give him a soft smile, opening your arms to him. “c’mere”

“what? really?”

“yes! come here, i missed you.”

he’s hesitant at first, but the second he feels you around him again, he melts. his heart feels too much at once, and he starts crying again. no. wailing.

he gasps for air again, rather harshly, and tangles his hands in your hair. he inhales again, all of his senses completely overridden. by you.

“oh baby…”

he hugs you tighter once he hears the pet name, and you smooth down his hair with your hand. “i promise i’ll be b-better… i know i’ve been terrible to you, but ill try my best. i’ll take breaks, ill spend time with you, and ill take care of myself too… just don’t go.”

“i’m not leaving you, sweetpea… im here. calm down.”

he looks up at you, stars in his eyes, “can i… kiss you?”

normally he’d never ask for permission, but you remember what you said during your argument. it breaks your heart thinking about how much that must have affected him.

you lean down, meeting his lips in a soft kiss. he cradles your head in his hands, his touches feather-soft. you finally pull away, just to stare at him.

“you’re so beautiful…”

“hm?”

he giggles, “you’re just beautiful. i don’t think i tell you that enough.”

you hug him tight once more, missing his touch. he gets up not too long after, helping you up too and pushing your hair out of your face lovingly.

“mingi…”

“hm?”

“how are you?”

“oh… i don’t know yet…”

suddenly, there’s a sharp pain in your abdomen. you look down, but there’s nothing there. “baby? what’s wrong?”

you can’t get any words out, scared for your life. you feel something trickling down your leg, so you look. the blood drips onto the floor, the pain becoming unbearable.

“mingi…”

mingi doesn’t say anything, quickly grabbing his phone from his pocket to call an ambulance. “stay with me baby, come on…”

you can’t do it, it hurts too much. you sink down to the floor, trying your best to stay awake, but it’s so hard. you want to scream, but you can’t, not with jiyoo here…

you push and push, but your body finally gives out, losing so much blood that you fall unconscious in the puddle.

“yes- yes i’m here…”

“are they crying?”

“n-no, he’s not breathing.”

“alright, stay calm, the ambulances are on the way. i want you to perform cpr on him, make sure you press only about an inch deep.”

he’s done this before, he knows how, but his hands are shaking so much and he’s just so scared. he finishes the compressions, giving him two breaths and returning back to pressing down on his chest.

“nothing… nothings happening…”

he continues pressing, tears streaming down his face. he’s blocked out every other voice, only thinking about you and his baby.

and then he hears it. a shrill cry rings out through the room, and his eyes widen. he picks him up, carefully cradling him. he’s obviously premature, and mingi is deathly scared of what’s to come.

just then, the ambulances arrive. mingi quickly informs the dispatcher and hangs up. he watches as they take you and the baby away to the ambulances and he rushes to jiyoos room.

“baby. you need to wake up.”

“mmm?”

he picks her up before she can question, “close your eyes. please.”

she complies, almost falling back asleep amidst all the chaos. he runs out the house, hopping in the passenger seat while they operate in the back.

his heart is beating a thousand times a second, tears streaming down his face. “abba…? why is there blood on you…?”

“just close your eyes princess…”

his hands are smeared with blood. his clothes, along with jiyoos, are ruined. his mind will never be the same after going through such a thing.

but all he can do is cry.

you’re finally all together, all four of you, yet it’s been almost four weeks since the birth. jihoon has spent a lot of time in the NICU, but he’s finally getting to see his new home for the first time.

mingi unlocks the door, opening it for you as you make your way in with jihoon. jiyoo has been giving him her love in every single way possible.

small hugs, sweet kisses, and cute little smiles whenever he blubbers in her direction. your heart swells at the sight. you don’t know how to explain it, but it just feels… right.

you set jihoon down in the crib, allowing him to get some rest. you decide to lay down too, calling it an early night. you’re still recovering, and it’s been hell so far, but mingi has been with you every step of the way this time.

the two of you lay together in bed in peace after so long, smiling and just simply staring at eachother. he grabs your hand, holding it up to his chest. “i’m proud of you, you know. you’re so strong…”

“mingi, you’ve said this like… nine times.”

“the amount of times i’ve said it doesn’t change the fact that it’s true. you are so incredibly amazing and just… the perfect mother. a fucking superhero, if you will.”

you giggle, “okay now you’re just overreacting.”

he pulls you closer towards him, kissing over the palm of your hand and gently closing his hands around it. “i’m so glad you both are okay…”

“mingi…”

“im sorry i keep bringing it up… it’s just- i could have lost you both.”

“you’re okay baby… im here.”

he scoots closer to you so that you’re chest to chest, nuzzling his face into your neck. he plants soft kisses onto your jawline, the sweet gesture just seeming so much like him.

“i love you… thank you for coming back to me.”

you kiss his forehead once, then twice, “i could never be away from you forever, you know.”

he smiles, kissing over your neck again. his kisses start to trail down lower and lower, suddenly stopping at your chest. “agh! mingi, not now!”

“not doing anything… just kissing.”

he places wet kisses all over your chest and collarbone, smiling when the marks change tint. “missed you, y/n…”

you grab onto his hair for some control, squirming underneath him. that is, until you hear a loud cry from the baby monitor. the two of you giggle again, this was going to be a lot of work.

he pulls away from you, quickly getting out of bed. “i’ll put him back to sleep, don’t worry.”

he walks over to you, leaning closer to whisper into your ear.

“i’ll be back soon baby, just sit here and look pretty for me…”

#atinyniki #ateez #ateez x reader #ateez fanfic #ateez fluff #ateez angst #song mingi #mingi x reader #mingi x y/n #mingi angst #mingi fluff #mingi ateez #mingi scenarios #song mingi x reader

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ihavethedreamies · 5 months

Text

Within an Inch of Your Life | Shownu

Son Hyunwoo (Shownu - MONSTA X)

Rating: M (18+) MDNI!!

Word Count: ~4.6k

Pairing: Shownu x AFAB!Reader

Genre: Reader-Insert, Smut, Romance, Some Angst, Very Little Plot, Very Dirty

!!This is SMUT...if that much isn't clear you should probably leave now. This is lowkey-highkey filth. Plain filth!! Some angst in the beginning but it goes away.

Warnings: She/Her pronouns used, Swearing, Kissing, Oral (M!Receiving), Deepthroating, Fingering, Pet Names (Pumpkin, Princess, Sweet Girl, etc.) Very Dirty Talk, Unprotected Sex (Use a condom or the like. Reader is on the pill in this story.)

Author's Note: This is my first fic, holy cow. I've written others but this is the first I will be posting considering I have well over 200 notes on my Shownu appreciation post. I actually wrote this a few months ago but just go around to making sure everything makes sense. I do not have a Beta…because that was always what I did…I was a Creative Writing Major and since I have never been docked in grade for grammar or punctuation errors, I think I'm qualified.

Uh, you just learned a lot about me just by the fact that I wrote this >.>

I am cross-posting this on Archive under the same name. Please reblog! If you know anyone that would like this or future fics but they aren't on Tumblr my name and icon are exactly the same on the other two sites. Happy reading!

You stared at the ceramic cup on your bathroom vanity, the cheap blue toothbrush glaring back at you. It sat in there amongst your own teeth cleaning products, mocking you. The bright color stark against the black and white of everything else in the bathroom, even your own toothbrush. Reaching out you placed your own that you had just finished using in the cup and grabbed the blue one. Staring down at it, you weren't sure how to feel. It had been a few weeks now, since it's been used. And it never will be again. Blinking, then sighing, you left the bathroom, stopping next to the trash can outside the door near the kitchen. Your foot rested on the paddle used to open the lid, inhaling and exhaling, then pressing down. Your hand holding the toothbrush lingered over the gaping bin. Swallowing a lump in your throat you didn't expect to be there, you gripped the brush tight. Emotion whelmed in you, but you couldn't pinpoint what kind. Were you angry? Guilty? Sad? Fuck it. You harshly threw the brush in the can and let the lid slam closed when you took your foot off the peddle.

"What's with the aggression?" Hana called to you from the other side of the apartment where she was on your couch. She was rubbing sleep from her eyes as she sat up from her sleeping perch.

"Don't worry about it." You were still staring at the trash can, now closes. You heard her bare feet patter on the hardwood floor, and she comes up to you. She blew her nose into a napkin she grabbed from the counter behind the can. You stepped out of the way to let her throw away the used paper.

"Oh." Realization hit her. She saw the toothbrush, which was the only thing in there. You moved away and into the kitchen to get your coffee ready as she took a place on a stool at the counter.

"What even happened?"

"What do you mean?"

"Why did you two break up?" she asked you and you exhaled. Grabbing a coffee mug, you put the cup on the perch of your coffee maker and pressed the largest button. You didn't answer.

"Was he bad in bed or something?"

"No."

"Did he cheat on you?"

"No."

"Controlling? Possessive?"

"No. Not really."

"Then why? You don't seem all that torn up about it."

"It’s a bit of a relief…"

"A relief? Why?"

"I…I was pity-dating him."

"WHAT!?"

"Calm down. He had been in love with me for years, and I felt bad for turning him down so much…Also, I was, frustrated without Young Hoon being here…"

"So, you used him? That's harsh."

"Look, he wouldn't leave me alone, kept asking me out, getting me things. Might as well make it easier and say yes…"

"So, why did you break it off?"

"I didn't."

"He broke up with you?"

"Yeah."

"Why?"

"I told him."

"Told him what?"

"That I was pity-dating him…"

"Fuck. That must have been rough."

"Yeah." You stared down as the swirling liquid in your cup, having stopped stirring the cappuccino mix in.

"I felt so guilty, I had to come clean." You rested back against the counter crossing your arms, somewhat hugging yourself.

"Why? Why not just break up with him? You had to tell him?"

"Yes."

"What made you do that?"

"Because…" Your words get caught in your throat, the realization hitting you.

"B-because. I can't lie to those I love." Your voice cracked and her face softened.

"You fell in love with him."

"Y-yeah."

"Then why not stay in the relationship?"

"I don't want a real relationship with him built on a lie. I had to come clean." You stood up straight, ignoring your drink and going to sit on your bed. You buried your face in your hands, your throat caught as you swallowed, your eyes burned.

"Oh, girlie." Hana followed you, sitting on your bed next to you, and pulling you into a hug.

"I'm such a fucking horrible person." You sobbed, and she rubbed your back.

"I love him. I do. I was in denial. It hit me so suddenly and so hard, I think I must have felt that way longer than I realized. God, forgive me." you cried, and she held you. Her phone went off as your sobs subsisted as she went to answer it.

"Shit. I have to get to class. I'll message you later." She kissed your forehead and gathered her stuff, leaving your apartment. Leaving your cooling drink on the kitchen counter, you curled up in bed and fell back asleep.

~*~*~

"(Y/N)!" Hana slammed her palm on the door, ringing the bell a few times. She knew you were home. She could see your bag and keys on the table through the window. You hadn't answered her calls or texts for three days and wouldn't answer the door.

"Hana?" A man's voice caught her attention and she turned to see Hyunwoo coming up the stairs to get to the second-floor apartment.

"Shownu! What are you doing here?" She quieted her voice, not sure how you might react if you heard. She knew your recent lack of actions was due to the breakup, and your revelation of feelings for the man.

"I was going to get my stuff and leave my key." His voice was noticeably flat, and the woman couldn't read his expression.

"You have a key!" Your friend lunged forward, snagging the set of keys from his hands. She shoved the metal into the lock and opened the door.

"(Y/N)!" she shouted, storming in.

~*~*~

You buried deeper into your pillows and sheets as Hana banged on your door. You didn't want to see anyone, not even her. You felt you didn't deserve her comfort. You were a shitty person who did a shitty thing. You flinched when you heard a key in the lock, wondering who the hell was there. Hana didn't have a key, and only your aunt did as the landlord. You had given the second key to your ex…to Hyunwoo.

"(Y/N)!" The other woman's harsh shout broke the silence you had been dwelling in. You hoped your uncle was there too, who else would have let her in? You are jarred to attention as your friend yanked your comforter off of you and the bed.

"What?" you snapped, and she climbed on the bed, flipping you over and forcing you to sit up.

"You bitch! You left me on read!" She put you in a playful headlock and ruffled your unkempt hair. You had showered, but a hairbrush? Who is she? You shoved Hana off, and she got off the bed, stomping away. When she came back you heard another set of footsteps along with hers, too heavy to be your aunt.

"The only way you are going to get over this pity party you threw yourself is by telling the truth!" Hana snapped, dragging your now ex-boyfriend into view past the half wall that separated your sleeping area from the living room. He stood there, staring at you. You wouldn't meet his gaze. Hana moved into the kitchen, looking in the fridge and hastily writing stuff on your grocery list pad.

"I am going to go buy you food, you two better talk!" She pointed at you sternly, then at him, and then left. You are left in silence with him.

"W-why are you here?" Your voice was scratchy, your mouth dry.

"Came to get my stuff." He nodded toward the dresser drawer where his stuff was.

"Ah." You licked your chapped lips. You hadn't drunk or eaten much in the last three days. He could tell, he knew you well. He left your direct line of sight and went to retrieve a bottle of water from your fridge. He came back and jutted it into your face. You took it, not meeting his eyes. Your small sips turned into big gulps, the cool liquid a sweet relief.

"What was Hana talking about? You telling me the truth?" Luckily, you had swallowed before he asked so you didn't choke. Closing the bottle, you threw it further up your bed. You brought your bent legs up, your knees touching your chest. You chewed on your thumbnail, not knowing how to start.

"You wanna tell me why you broke my heart?" His tone was harsh, a tinge of sadness in his tone. Your breath caught, the stinging in your eyes came back.

"It would have hurt less if you just broke up with me. But telling me you only dated me out of pity? I love you; I have for years-"

"I had to tell you."

"Why?"

"I couldn't keep lying."

"Why not? You had been doing it for nearly seven months." His voice was sharp with anger.

"I-I cannot…" You swallowed a lump, fighting to not cry, "I cannot lie to someone I love."

You're not sure what his reaction was, you didn't look up at him.

"What?"

"I couldn't keep lying to you. I love you-" You didn't even get the chance to work up the courage to look at him. His hands went quickly to your jaw, hauling you close, up and out of bed. His lips found yours. The kiss was different from all those before. You could feel how strong his emotions were. He was rough, domineering, barely letting you breathe. His tongue wrapped around yours, sucking you in. He was practically bent over you, being nearly a foot tall, your neck tipped back far to make up for the rest of the distance. You whined, your hands gripping his shirt from under his jacket. Hyunwoo swallowed you and every little noise you made. As he pulled away, he bit your bottom lip, the tang of blood hitting your tongue. He stepped back abruptly, running his hand through his hair.

"Fuck. Don't play with me." He shook his head, and you sat back on your bed.

"I'm not. I didn't…I only realized a few days ago how I felt…"

"What am I supposed to with this, huh?" He paced a bit, roughing his hair up.

"Do what you want. Whatever you decide…" You drifted off, not sure what you wanted him to do. You wanted him to kiss you again. But you felt you deserved him leaving and never talking to you again. You felt he should break your heart, like you did him.

"Part of me wants to walk out of here and never think about you again." He finally said and the words pierced you. A tear rolled down your cheek.

"Another part of me wants to give you another chance…" You closed your eyes, willing the tears back.

"But there's something else I really, really want to do." You heard him come closer but refused to look at him. You gasped as his hands dug into the hair at the nape of your neck, pulling your head back, making you look up at him.

"W-what?" His lips were so close to yours and while you're not sure what he wanted to do, you wanted it too.

"Please, whatever you want." You whispered, but his lips didn't meet yours. His tongue doesn't stroke yours. His mouth went to your ear…

"I'm going to fuck you within an inch of your life." You gasped at his words, then found yourself briefly in the air as he threw you back on the bed. Hyunwoo tore his jacket off and finally brought his lips back to yours. His strong thigh jammed between your legs, rubbing against your core, covered only by your thin shorts. His large hand ran down your thigh, hitching it up to his and he grinded his growing hard on into you.

"Fuck." You whimpered as he pulled away from the kiss, a trail of saliva connecting your lips. He stared at you intensely till he dipped back down, He latched onto the weak point on your neck, under your jaw, almost your throat. His mouth sucked hard then he bit the flesh making you shiver. You lay there and let him do whatever. He left scathing kisses, sucking bruises onto your skin. They were everywhere: your neck, shoulders -once your shirt was off- your chest, breasts, ribs, stomach. He avoided anything covered by your tiny shorts, giving you more marks on your inner thighs. Your skin was on fire, and you didn't think you cum with just that stimulation, but you were close.

Hyunwoo sat back on his knees, pulling his t-shirt over his head and never before had you been so enthralled. Your type was normally guys that had a dancer's body and were pretty, nothing like him. He was devastatingly handsome and while you normally wouldn't care for the taught pecs, ridged abs and sharp v-line of his hips…He truly did look like sex incarnate.

You wanted to sit up, reach for his belt, pull his pants down and let him fuck your throat. But he was in control, entirely. You weren't exactly ever a dominant lover, not really even a switch, but this time it was wholly up to him what happened. Your mouth watered at the sigh for the first time though, your romantic feelings fueling your sexual ones. He undid his belt and removed his jeans, his hard cock tenting his boxer briefs. Was he always that big?

"Something wrong, pumpkin?" You could hear the smirk in his voice. Due to your previous feelings, or lack-there-of, you never really gave him a good look. He was just your brother's stupid friend. You were getting a real good look in now.

"Y-you, uh…" Your mouth watered.

"Wanna taste?" He gripped himself over the fabric and you nodded quickly. He huffed in amusement. Despite the fact you loved a dick in your mouth, you had never done it to him. Didn't let yourself, lest you get hooked. He motioned with his head for you to come closer and you crawled across the bed to where he stood at the foot of it. Your bed was the perfect height to allow your face to be perfectly level with his cock. You let out a whimper and he titled his head, watching in amusement. With shaking hands, you reached for the waistband of his boxers and carefully pulled them off. Your mouth watered as he was revealed to you.

"Fuck." You exhaled, watching his dick bob in the air as he stepped out of his underwear. Wiggling your jaw back and forth, you thanked the stars that so many strep-throat tests as a kid killed your gag reflex. You couldn't believe that he had been inside of you before. It made you wonder if your stomach bulged from his girth.

"You just gonna stare?" He stepped closer and you scooched the little bit closer you needed to. Wrapping your lips around the head of his cock, Hyunwoo exhaled in relief, and you groaned at his taste. You rolled your tongue around him like a popsicle, and he tipped his head back with a sigh. Without going much further than the tip, you sucked hard and pulled back. This made him bury his hands in your hair to prevent you from going anywhere.

"What?" He tilted your head to look up at his face.

"Fuck me. My mouth." You cleared your throat, and he blinked in shock before a devious smirk broke out on his handsome face.

"Really? You sure?"

"Please, please-" You opened your mouth as wide as you could, and he slowly thrusted his dick into your mouth. The deeper he went the more saliva built up in your mouth, starting to drip. The head reached the back of your throat and he moved to pull back his hips, but you stopped him. Your hands flew to his behind, pulling him closer.

"Fucking hell, (Y/N)." His voice had a hint of a whine to it. He was the perfect length. Your nose hit his pelvis, his cock buried in your throat, but not too deep. While somewhat restricted, you could still breathe when he would pull back; that fact made your walls clench, aching to be filled as well. You shuffled a bit, splaying your knees more, lowering you just a bit. This let him angle his cock down a bit more and you looked up at him expectantly. He practically growled at this and began to thrust into your mouth. Tears spring to your eyes; you weren't sure if it was from what he was doing or the fact that it was happening at all. Drool dripped down your chin, tears from your eyes, and wet from your cunt. You wouldn't be surprised if when he came -down your throat preferably- that you too would climax. His thrusts picked up some, got shallower and his grip pulled at your scalp. The slight sting from your hair, the fat head of his cock battering your throat, and the taste of his precum was sending you into overdrive. While not one for sado-masochism or bondage, a little pain was nice. In the back of his mind, Hyunwoo marveled at the fact that you had not gagged yet. He was too focused on the wet vacuum of your mouth to think about it too much though. The sight of your lips swallowing his swollen cock over and over was orgasmic in itself, but the looking your eyes was what sent him over the edge. They were glazed over in pleasure; you already looked so fucked out.

"(Y/N), can I come inside?" He grunted out and you moaned, wanting nothing more.

"Ah fuck." His hips stuttered and you felt the hot, thick cum spray down your throat. He was so deep you almost couldn't taste his release, which…Just. Kept. Going. You swallowed what seemed like over and over and over before he was done.

Hyunwoo pulled out slowly, his cock still half-hard. You caught your breath, finally getting a normal amount of air. Your core was quivering, and you knew you had cum as well from the amount of wetness stuck to the fabric of your shorts. That and your head was swimming.

"Oh, princess." He shook his head, breathing hard himself. You peered up at him with a dazed look and he had never seen you like this. He had seen you close to like this once, your true submissive nature blooming forth. He knew you would let him do anything he wanted, and man was there a lot he wanted to do to you. He had promised to fuck you within an inch of your life, and he was going to make good on it.

"What do you want me to do to you now, sweet?"

"Anything." You keened and he groaned. Then he remembered something. While you had never said it before, he knew you had a thing for hands. You had told him once he wasn't allowed to wear rings because it made his fingers look too good. How easily would you fall apart on his fingers? How many times could he make you come tonight?

"You still on the pill?"

"Yea."

"Good." He hadn't brought any condoms, not thinking this was going to happen when he left his apartment this morning.

"Scoot up." He ran the back of his finger over your cheek, still damp from tears and you scurried up the mattress. You lay back as he climbed over you; he watched you watch his hand move to your core. He raised an eyebrow as he stroked over the fabric of your shorts. You tended to get very wet very easily, but this was much more than usual.

"Did you cum?" He asked and you nodded sheepishly.

"Oh my god." He dove in, latching onto your lips, not caring that you had just been sucking him dry. Your teeth clacked against his from the messy kiss. His kisses moved from your mouth, down your neck and he settled on your throat again. You were already littered with hickeys, but he was ready to leave more. As he marked your further, he pulled your shorts off roughly, a slight ripping noise coming from the seams. He tossed the last piece of your clothing away, you never slept with underwear on. Finally, his fingers touched your bare pussy and you whined.

"Oh (Y/N)." He chuckled, burying two fingers in your hot cunt, his thumb finding your swollen clit. You released a long shaky moan, clenching around the digits. He found your weak spot quickly and your hips tilted up, your back arching. You wanted desperately for him to pull his fingers out and fuck you with his delicious cock already, but you refused to say anything. This was for him; he could do whatever he wanted to you, and you would thank him. How had you not realized that this man was the sexiest one on the face of the earth? The pads of his fingers rubbed against your g-spot in just the right way, and it was driving you crazy. His two fingers moved separately, the way they curled and thrusted making the sensations unpredictable. He added a third and spread them, getting you ready for his huge cock. You could feel the strength in his hands, you felt his knuckles rub against your walls, and his palm grinded against your clit.

"H-Hyunwoo!" Your hands landed on his chest, your nails digging into the skin, your release building faster than either of you expected.

"Cum for me, sweet girl." And you did. The breath was knocked out of your lungs, flashes of white dotted your vision. You heard him chuckle, but it sounded like he was far in the distance, rumbling through the air and cutting through the ringing in your ears. When you came down from your high, your vision sharpened and you saw him smiling down at you. He came closer, bumping his nose against yours, touching his forehead to yours.

"I love you." he whispered, and you hitched a sob, reaching up to cup his jaw. Your thumbs stroked the arch of his cheekbones.

"I love you too." He kissed you softly, his fingers leaving your pussy. His hands cupped your thighs, hitching them up to wrap around his waist. You pulled back from the kiss with a gasp as he stroked his cock against your cunt, fully hard again. Hyunwoo knew he was teasing you, rutting against you, covering his dick in your wetness but refusing to enter you.

"Please, please, please." You began to beg; you weren't even close to ashamed. You needed him inside of you, rearranging your insides, carving himself into you, ruining you for everyone else. His hands came up to yours that were still on his cheeks, wrapping his fingers around yours, and pinned them up by your head. With great dexterity, he shifted his hips and began to slip inside of you, still holding your hands. His lips hovered over yours, not quite meeting, your mouth hung open in a silent moan as he split you in half. Not only had it been a while since you two had sex; you hadn't gotten yourself off either. No fingers, no vibrator, nothing. He groaned as he settled deep inside of you. The head of his cock almost touched your cervix, your walls gripping him tighter than they ever had before. Your legs held him close, your ankles linked, it seemed your body refused to let him go. He just sat inside of you, giving you small kisses, letting your walls get used to the stretch. His cock was so deep, it felt like he was in your throat and the delicious burn of the stretch was addicting. It never felt this good before, you used to think the idea sex felt better the more you loved the other person was bull. No. You were in euphoria, and he hadn't even moved yet.

"Can I move?" he asked, resting his forehead on your collarbone. He really just wanted to fuck you into the mattress, but he wanted this to last as long as possible.

"Yes." you gasped out, preparing for him to knock loose your kidney but he barely pulled out and then slowly thrust back in, grinding his pelvis into yours. Even this slight movement knocked the wind out of you. The next thrust was a bit faster but just as shallow and his breath mixed with yours as he hovered over you. Not pulling out any further, his hips pumped hard, and you threw your head back. Hyunwoo moved his hands from holding yours to wrapping one around your wrists. His free hand moved to your lower back to shift you some. With your legs wrapped around his waist, when he sat up on his knees more your butt left the bed; he handled you into a near mating press. Somehow, he got deeper, and you knew if it was a thing, your cervix would be bruised.

"I don't think I can hold back anymore." He grunted; his eyes closed in concentration. What the hell were you in for if this was him holding back? He had never taken you like this before. You 'made love'. This, this was him fucking you, like he promised.

"Do what you want." you pled. He had stopped moving and you desperately needed him to keep going.

"You have anywhere to be the next few days?"

"No?"

"Good, because I don't want you to be able to walk when I'm done with you." He gave you a devious smirk, pulling away to rest back on his heels. His strong hands dug into the flesh of your thighs where they rested at his side, holding him to you. You let him move them and exhaled harshly as he forced your knees to your ears, completely and easily folding you in half. Still not moving his hips he leaned down so he could speak right into your ear.

"That pill better work good because I'm going to pump you full of my cum." He thrusted, hard. If your breath hadn't left your lungs, you would have nearly screamed. It wasn't a shallow hard thrust like before, no; he pulled out nearly all the way before slamming back in. You could tell how tight your walls were clenching him, desperately trying to hold him in. Not able to tell what part of you wanted him more -your psyche, your heart, or your cunt- you just knew you never wanted him to stop.

"Hyunwoo-" You weren't sure if you could say anything but his name, but his next thrust stopped all thoughts.

"I want my hand shape to be bruised into your skin." He clenched your thighs under your knees.

Another thrust.

"I want to brand you with the feeling of my cock in your cunt so only I can ever satisfy you."

Thrust.

"I want to fuck you on every surface of this apartment." As he recited every filthy desire straight into your ear, he pounded his fat cock so hard into your pussy, you thought he would split you in half.

"I want to paint your skin with my cum and then fill you back up again in the shower."

"I want to fill every part of you that I can. Your pussy, your womb, your mouth, your throat. If you let me, I'll even bury my cock in your ass and paint you white there too."

Your head swam with each word. He was always so sweet and soft before. This was different, he had turned into an animal, and he was determined to fuck you like one.

"I'll do it all. Everything I want. I promise, I will fuck you within an inch of your life."

Master-Master List

#ihavethedreamies #kpop #monsta x smut #shownu smut #son hyunwoo smut #kpop smut #kpop fanfic #monsta x fanfic #shownu fanfic #shownu x reader #x reader #kpop x reader

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breezybangtanbebe · 6 months

Text

God Damn : Changkyun❤️‍🔥

A/N: (i wrote this like over a year ago and never edited it🙃) Changkyun x reader (1st person), toxic breakup, drinking, angst, raw sex, rough sex. Emotional and smutty...I apologize in advance. 🌚

6.6k words

"I'm really worried about him."

"He hasn't been himself since you left..."

"He's so lost without you..."

"He's not responding to any of us and we can't find him..."

"Please Mira.....you're the only one who knows him like us..maybe even better than us. He'll talk to you."

That last text from Kihyun was the hardest one to ignore because it was true.

I did know Changkyun better than his friends and that was one of the reasons why I left him in the first place.

I was done with him and this fucking city, already packed and in a hotel until the day of my flight came. This place held too many memories for me to remain here after our separation some months ago and the wounds were too fresh to risk the temptation to go back.

It hurts but I can't keep living like this.

Neither can he.

I knew I would find him here though.

He was such a creature of habit that it annoyed me that his friends wouldn't think to look here first.

It never fails.

He was always so easy to predict and sometimes I wish he'd prove me wrong.

Just once.

Maybe this is a setup.

Hmm...

The smoke was thick and blinding in the crowded basement and the bass shook the walls as I descended from the final step. The rain and thunder outside were drowned out immediately by the music and I have to squint my eyes to see through the haze as I stepped through it.

It was a typical Saturday night and the mutual acquaintance and owner of the house was hosting one of his usual boozed-up functions that I admittedly used to look forward to. But we all have to grow up sometime.

I moved through the swaying crowd of people too drunk and high to care about making way for the angry curly-headed brunette searching the crowd. All of them were lost in the rhythm of the music.

And whatever else they were on...

I hoped he would be among the many in the small sea of stoners. Make my life easy just once would you, Im Changkyun.

Fucking pain in my ass.

Eventually, I made my way to the furthest corner of the party which was illuminated by beaming red LEDs. Several booths lined the back wall where a single light bulb glowed above each table. All of them were littered with paraphernalia, hookahs, empty liquor bottles, and ashtrays filled to the brim with roaches (not the bugs) and cigarette butts. The stink of smoke was even more potent here since it was the source and it burned my eyes the closer I got.

That's when I saw him.

I know it was him immediately by the sway of his long unkept hair hanging in his face. His black leather jacket is draped behind him and the bulge of his tattooed bicep flexes beneath his loose white v-neck tee. He sat with his head down, his elbows resting on the table and his hands running through his hair.

He's alone. Thankfully. Or else this would have been thrice as awkward. It was at that moment that I questioned my intentions as I lingered a few feet away.

Why am I here?

I should just call one of his friends and tell them he's here.

Jooheon would be happy to pull up with Hosoek more than likely to take over.

Kihyun would march straight up to him and yank him up by his collar.

Minhyuk would most likely do something similar after cussing him out for worrying everyone.

Hyunwoo would sit and talk some sense into him, convince him to pull himself out of this ditch he'd buried himself in.

Hyungwon would drink with him for a little before convincing him to quit and go home.

They were his friends. They should be the ones to handle him in his ruins. Not me.

I should just call one of them.

I should walk away now.

I should...

I'm about to step back into the darkness of the dance floor but suddenly go stiff when Changkyun lifts his head and for the first time in what feels like forever I see his face.

He seems thinner, his jawline sharper than I remember, and there is a red smudge staining the corning of his bottom lip. That's when I noticed the redness on his knuckles.

The scrapes, bruises, and scars.

What had he done to himself after we went our separate ways? Drinking himself into a stooper aside. What demons had he been battling that I couldn't bear witnessing any longer?

Without thinking about it anymore, I approached him with a fast beating and heavy heart. I'm gonna get him out of here and be done.

For good.

I stand beside where he's seated and wait for him to notice me, hoping he isn't too far gone in the glass of what I presumed to be some form of cognac with no ice.

It only takes a few seconds for Changkyun to lift his head to look up at me with blank eyes. It's as if I was just some random girl blocking the light. But after a few seconds of exaggeratedly slow blinking, his expression changes from indifference to annoyance.

"Amira?" I catch on his lips. Changkyun looks me up and down, studying me in my jeans and coat before lazily locking eyes with me again.

"I'm here to take you home." I raise my voice and the look of irony on my ex's face gives me pause.

"Home...." He slurs with a tsk as he drags his eyes back down to the swirling liquor in his glass.

I furrow my brow at him but choose to dismiss the look of disgust on his face.

"Get up," I say with more urgency, not even bothering to raise my voice. Changkyun scoffs lightly before picking up the short-cut glass set before him on the table.

My face hardened as he ignored me to take a sip of the amber substance, his Adams Apple bobbing as he swallowed.

"I am home so.......Fuck off...." He mumbles, gesturing towards the glass as he sucks in another sip.

He was so stubborn when was drunk.

Definitely NOT going to miss that.

Losing my patience, I reach for the glass before he can take another sip and Changkyun's lightning reflexes seem well intact judging by how quickly he moved the cup from my reach. But in the process, he also underestimates the strength of his grip and the small glass shatters in his grasp.

Broken shards fall over the tabletop, spilling the alcohol all over its surface. No one around reacts to the scene though, leaving only me to witness the frustration in Changkyun's expression.

"God dammit..." I hear him huff and my eyes go wide at the steady stream of blood tricking from his palm. He doesn't seem to notice it though and is staggering to his feet like a drone. I already knew what he was after, a drink to replace that one and I wasn't having it.

"No," I say as I grabbed him by the wrist. Changkyun looks down at my hand then at me and scoffs.

"What are you doing?" He furrows his brow with an arrogant smirk.

"You can barely walk. No more drinking. Let's go." I yell over the music.

"Go home, Mira..."

"I'm not leaving here without you!"

"For fucks sake..."

Changkyun drunkenly scoffs at me again before snatching out of my grasp. I quickly grab his other and it turns into an obnoxious game of snatch and grab on the dance floor.

If I weren't so annoyed and pissed, I would be embarrassed at how childish we must have looked. Standing there playing tug of war with each other. Of course, I was no match for Changkyun's strength but I was sober. This meant my reaction time reflexes and persistence were bound to have him relenting to my will eventually.

It took some convincing and a bit of manhandling on my end to get Changkyun to leave the basement. Thankfully, there seems to be a break in the storm and I glance up at the sky with relief.

At least we wouldn't have to walk in the rain on top of me dragging this drunk ass.

My mood plummets once we reach the sidewalk. Because the moment we're outside and the humid air hits him, I flinch at how Changkyun suddenly moves out of my reach to double over a random trash can.

Ugh.

I rolled my eyes even harder as he wretched into the metal bin, resisting the urge to go to him. To rub his back and stroke his hair. To comfort him through the inevitable.

I don't though.

That wasn't my job anymore.

We stumble up the sidewalk for a few blocks until we reach his apartment building and I get him inside using the code I'd memorized from frequent use over the years. It was now pouring again and we were drenched by the time we stepped inside the building's lobby.

I get him inside and shiver at the chilling temperature from the doorway. As if being soaked to the bone with rainwater wasn't enough. It seemed as though just to vex me, my thoughtless drunk of an ex kept his heat off all day.

"Ugh..." I exhale again. Standing here cussing him in my mind wouldn't get us warm so with me supporting most of his weight, we enter.

A trail of wet shoes and outerwear lay abandoned by the front door and the hum of the heat filling the old vents of his apartment swirl around us as I sat in the living room.

I kept his lights dim and left the TV off as I listened to the rain pattering against the windows.

Changkyun snored softly in the spot I allowed him to plop down on the couch and he'd fallen asleep immediately, his hair and shirt still damp, leaving me on the armchair opposite of him.

There Amira. The job was done.

You can leave now.

Leave him and all of this torment behind you.

I said that to myself as I rose to my feet. Changkyun remained still and sleeping with his face mushed against the cushion, his wet hair fanned out over his head.

Why did he have to be so cute AND such a disaster all at once?

Lightning strikes, spooking me to sit back down on the indented sofa. Then another chill ran over my body despite the warming air, reminding me of the weather I'd be facing again once I stepped outside.

An Uber or cab would cost a bit.

And the metro station was too far to walk to in the rain.

Perhaps I should have thought this through, instead of allowing Kihyun's worrisome ass to convince me to do this.

"Dammit.." I sigh, ultimately deciding it would be best to stay put. Hopefully, Changkyun remained asleep by the time the storm let up enough for me to sneak out of there.

So I stayed, reluctantly, and leaned my head back against the cushion of the sofa.

Between the thunder, the buzzing hum of the heating system in his apartment, and the soft sound of Changkyun's muffled snoring, it wasn't long before my eyes began to roll back sleepily.

"Hey...."

I flinch and my eyes pop open to find Changkyun standing before me in the living room, shirtless with his wild mane sitting messily atop his head.

It looked as if he'd awakened some time ago and taken a shower since he's in different clothes and the clean scent of his shampooed hair is detectable from his proximity.

I gulp as my eyes travel down his body of their own volition but blink away any inappropriate ideas before they can form. I lift my gaze to find him staring at me with the same dark interest.

"You're still here..." he states calmly as I sit up in the seat and he regards me just as soft as his voice as I glance around the room with mild confusion.

It was still dark outside but the storm had eased up significantly.

Damn...

How long was I asleep?

His eyes seemed more sober than they were before he passed out and I looked up at him speculatively.

That's a relief.

"Um...yeah. Must have dozed off.." I mutter, grimacing as I shake the sleepiness away.

Changkyun makes a noise that could have either been a scoff or a snort of humor.

"Yeah. Me too.." he chuckles, but his smile doesn't touch his eyes as it trailed off.

I can't imagine the headache he must have right now.

At his pause, I take it upon myself to continue.

"I stuck around hoping that the storm would let up a bit and dry off. I wasn't trying to..."

"Naw it's cool. You don't have to explain...Shit, to be honest...I don't even remember how I got home. Glad you had something to do with that and not some random..." he chuckles shamelessly and although I know he saying it in a joking manner, I know he is serious.

There's no telling how many women he's brought back here after getting shitfaced.

The thought makes my stomach turn.

"Yeah well...Since you're awake, I should probably get going..." I concede amid his nervous chuckling, preparing to stand and Changkyun immediately lifts his hands to stop me.

"What? No...I mean... it's still raining and it's late. People drive like dick heads over here when it's wet..." he says, his choice of words always colorful.

"It's fine...I didn't drive. I took the train." I said truthfully.

Changkyun frowns at my response.

"You took the train? What happened to your car?" He asks and I go tense.

Oh boy.

"I.......sold it," I answer him, tucking my lips between my teeth as I wait for him to digest the answer.

The two of us hadn't spoken in a while which meant I hadn't made him aware of me moving away, let alone me selling the car he'd spent countless hours working on for free.

Other than it being in my name and me being financially responsible for it, Changkyun put just as many miles and effort into it as if it were his.

"You sold your car..." he deadpans and I nod affirmatively.

Bravely.

Awkwardly.

"Yep. For a really good price to a guy I knew from uptown. I.... can't afford to take it with me so.."

"Oh right! Because you're moving out of the city." Changkyun interrupts me.

The sluggishness in his voice was no longer present, telling me he was for sure sober. But that same hint of disdain and disgust presented itself as he spoke. I open my mouth to respond but he cuts me off.

"Yeah....I know. Kinda saw it on Instagram. The whole "going away party" threads on your friend's stories gave me the clue. Sucks that I couldn't hear the news from you but...ya know." he shrugs sullenly.

I stand there quietly for a moment, unsure of what to say.

"Yeah." is all I can muster and Changkyun scoffs.

"Yeah.." he chuckles breathily, turning away from me as he runs a hand through his hair. I watched him begin to pace slowly, rubbing at the back of his neck and flaunting his bare upper body to the neon glow of the street lights just beyond his apartment window.

"I get it though. Of course you sold it. I mean...why not? You could always just get a replacement. Since that's your way of doing shit anyway. Commit to something, get it all fixed up, and just...walk away from it." He turns on his heel to throw in before turning his back to me again.

His statement stuns me and I'm left speechless as he continues away from me.

I watch his back and the shadows cast against his muscles from the dimness as he walks over to his array of liquor bottles lined up against the back wall of the kitchen counters. He reaches for a half-empty Hennesy, twisting the cap and tipping it back for a hefty sip that's swallowed down like water.

I furrow my brow at the way his shoulders sag in relief as he turns to me.

"You could have told me, you know? Thought we were better than that," he remarks stiffly before he lifts the bottle back to his lips, gazing over its body at me as he takes another sip.

His eyes are expectant and I just stare back, too tired to indulge him.

I sigh heavily and begin patting my pockets to make sure my phone and wallet are still there before spotting my keys on his coffee table.

"The only reason I'm here was because Kihyun reached out." I snatch them up and they jingle loudly as I step around the table. Changkyun frowns at the sound of his friend's name on my lips and narrows his eyes.

"Why the fuck would he hit you up?" he asks and I snort at the bitterness of his question.

"I asked myself the same thing. But he figured I was his last resort in getting in contact with you, seeing as how you've been avoiding everyone and missing work. Believe me, though, I'm starting to wish he hadn't..." I respond honestly breezing past Changkyun in the direction of his guest bathroom.

The only reason I'm able to move so comfortably around his apartment was that Id damn near made it my second home in the duration of our tumultuous relationship.

I wouldn't be surprised if I still had a toothbrush or a box of tampons here.

I flip the light switch, not at all surprised to find Changkyun following close behind and my disheveled reflection staring back at me in the mirror. My curls had dried only a little and my makeup was smudged a tad but not ruined.

"Right..because I'm not your problem anymore." He chuffs, taking another sip and I roll my eyes at his antics as I try to tend to my appearance. I run my fingers through my hair roughly before snatching a paper towel off the roll, dampening it before wiping just below my eyeline.

"You were never my problem Changkyun. The only one here with problems was you." I mutter distractedly, frowning at how difficult it was to wipe away my mascara. My response seems to amuse him and an ironic smirk crosses his face as he leans against the doorway.

"And I'm guessing that's why you left? Me and my problems? Just me though, right? Since you're so perfect..." he asks with a cheeky tone and I hiss irritably as I abruptly turn to face him.

"What choice did I have? What choice did you give me? All we do is fight. It's not healthy for either of us and I'm exhausted. YOU are exhausting. I never claimed to be perfect but you..." I go on and Changkyun nods cynically as I speak.

"Yeah...c'mon. Lay it on me. Tell me how horrible I am despite all the shit I've done for you...I'm the fucking worst right?" He chortles and I can't help but laugh.

"Like I haven't done shit for you! Don't act like that negates the fact that you can't change or that...I don't know...We just aren't compatible anymore. That we've grown apart..."

"I'm not changing for somebody who doesn't know what the fuck they want. Ok?" Changkyun cuts in, jutting his forefingers into his sternum emphatically.

"You're impossible to satisfy Mira! You want me to be someone that I'm not. At least not yet...You put pressure on me to do shit how you want and when I fall short, I'm the bad guy. I never cheated on you. Never put my hands on you..."

"Gee, thanks for the bare minimum of common decency Kyun. I appreciate it." I mumble amid his rambling...

"..when you suggested seeing a shrink, I was open to it.." he continues.

"But did you go?" I tack on and he rolls his eyes.

"That's not the point. You gotta give me time. This shit here? Talking about my feelings...this is new territory for me. You never cut me any slack. You just criticize and jet like you're doing now.."

"Because I'm tired of cutting you slack. I'm tired of waiting...I wanted us to evolve and be better together. I wanted us to live together officially and live healthier and get married and..." I trail off, the words clogging my throat as the heartbreak of feeling rejected by him swell.

For a while, we were fine.

But eventually, I wanted more than what he was willing to give. And he tried to appease me and distract me from the fact that our relationship had hit a plateau.

It took us having a pregnancy scare for me to really see how unprepared he was for us moving forward.

"...but you've made it explicitly clear that that's not what you want." I nearly choke on the sob threatening to break through.

We'd been through this too many times and rehashing it was the last thing I wanted. Changkyun blinked a few times as if he needed to gauge my demeanor before responding.

Then he looked away painfully, grimacing a bit as he rubbed at the back of his neck with a troubled sigh.

"I know...I'm just..not ready.." he mutters, his eyes now on the floor. His jaw tightened and shifted as he contemplated something and I remained in front of the bathroom sink patiently.

The silence between us was deafening and the longer I gazed at him and his conflicted state, the stronger my urge to cry became.

I love this man.

So much that it hurts to even say it.

Changkyun lifts his head suddenly at the sound of me sniffling and I curse myself for letting a tear escape.

I turn my back to wipe it away with a shaky huff.

"I know. And I'm not waiting for you to be. I can't. I'm just done." I shake my head, avoiding the searing look in his eyes I knew he was giving me.

I sniffle again, scanning his bathroom for the tiny waste bin to discard the charcoal-streaked paper towel and Changkyun stands unmoved in the doorway as I brush past him.

Before I'm clear of him, I feel his hand gripping me by the wrist.

I pause, anticipating the inevitable. Another condescending remark to get a rise out of me, provoking me to engage in more back and forth. Feeding his selfish need to drain me until I was as empty as he felt.

But to my surprise, he says nothing.

At his silence, I turn to find him staring at our now intertwined fingers sadly.

His brow creased painfully and the muscles in his jaw tensed as he bit back the urge to cry, the urge that glistened in his hooded eyes.

"You can't be angry at me for not wanting what you want when you want it," he repeats and I roll my eyes, pulling my hand from his with little effort. He doesn't try to stop me from withdrawing despite us moving like magnets. He drags behind me to the living room mindlessly.

"I'm not doing this...." I mutter as I scan the room as if I'd forgotten something.

"You're here, so you are. We..are doing this." He grits, his tone making me turn on my heel to face him with the full intention to cuss and give him exactly what he wanted.

But the way he glares into me with broken eyes and his sullen shoulders, I'm rendered silent.

"We could have worked this out but instead you did what you always do when shit gets tough. Run away.." he closes the distance between us tentatively, his voice shaking as he spoke.

I shake my head at the conviction in his voice, knowing we were at an impasse.

"Right.." I chuckle before wiping my eyes one more time. I lift them to match his glare intensely.

"And you go and do what you always do when you can't take accountability for shit. Go and find solace at the bottom of a liquor bottle until you're painting the floor with it."

I know the words a daggers to him when he narrows his eyes.

"And you're such a saint." Changkyun tuts his brow arrogantly at me.

Yes. There was a time when getting black-out drunk and high was considered a good time. And those horrible habits were the reason Changkyun and I bonded. Mutual interests evolved as did our relationship and loving him made being under the influence less necessary.

"Well, it's a good thing we ended things right? Since we're so different..." I shrug and Changkyun scoffs, looking away with his tongue sticking through the skin of his cheek. When he looks back, it's with a look that always used to make my core tighten.

"I didn't end shit." he insists, narrowing his eyes at him darkly.

"I know."

"Exactly. So stop acting like I wronged you in all of this. Stop acting like I'm the one who broke your heart, Mira."

The tears were flowing freely by now and I neither had the will or strength to resist them anymore. Eyes rimmed red and shining, I let out a laugh that morphs into a muffled sob.

"I had to. Don't you understand? For the sake of my sanity, I had to walk away because I was not going to sit back and watch you destroy yourself. To watch us destroy each other. I loved you too much to continue this. I tried but I just couldn't. I had to be done."

"What if I'm not?"

"Kyun..."

"I don't wanna be done."

He stares at me blankly for a moment, his eyes reading the way I avoided his with a melancholy smirk.

Suddenly Im inhaling the malted mix of cognac and mint as he grabbed me at the back of my neck, pulling me forward so that he could rest his forehead against mine.

His eyes bore into mine, dark as obsidian and just as hard. The tip of his nose brushes mine and he tilts his head so his words are painted against my lips in an exalted exhale.

"And neither do you.." he mouths, our parted lips sharing a desperate breath for a moment before one of us gives in.

And it's him.

It's always him.

The darkness in his eyes was sinful when he pulled away and I'm ashamed to have been the one chasing his lips a little when he did.

His presence was more intoxicating than any liquor I ever consumed.

The way neon lights from beyond the window blinked against the side of his face, highlighting his chiseled features as he walked me back until I was pressed flat against the wall of his living room.

"Kyunnie?" I stammer as he pressed against me, pinning me to the concrete grey-painted wall, kneading my nape as he tipped his head back just enough to see my face.

His eyes danced with mine for a moment, both of us hesitating and searching for something in the other.

"You hate me, don't you?" He asks.

"I never said that..." I attempt to respond but he shakes his head.

"You never had to..." he cuts me off, his eyes falling to my lips. Without a shred of hesitation, he leans in and kisses me again.

Harder.

More fervently.

Hennessy and desperation lingered on his tongue but he didn't kiss me as if on a drunken impulse. He kissed me as if his life depended on it. Sloppy and frantic. Our teeth clashed at moments as our tongues fought and our voices melded into a melody of muffled moans.

What the hell was happening...

A few minutes ago I was ready to walk away from this part of my life. Ready to end this chapter and close the door on the man who knew better but wouldn't do or be better.

Toxic wasn't even the word.

His mouth parts from mine and he trails sloppy desperate pecks down from my lips to my neck.

My weakness.

The moment his lips grazed my skin, chills ran over my entire body, and Changkyun wasted no time in taking my flesh between his teeth. His hard body felt hot against mine and I wasn't sure if it was his heartbeat I felt through my clothes or my own. But what I did know was that I needed him.

In more than just a physical sense.

I needed him all over me.

On top of me.

Inside me.

His tongue swipes over the series of love bites he placed on my skin and I moan his name needingly. I feel him smile against me and chuckle softly before sucking a mark over my pulse.

He knew he had me the moment he sunk his teeth into my skin. Im putty in his hands and anything he desired was his as long as he was willing to fulfill mine.

Seconds later, we're falling back against his couch with me straddling his waist and him ripping my clothes off. It was not long before Im naked and gazing down at the length of Changkyun's dick standing up in his grasp.

He bites his lip, dragging his hooded gaze up my body as if he'd never seen it before.

Or as if he believed he'd never see it again.

He squeezed my hip with his other hand, encouraging me to grind my hips against him a few times before rising to my knees.

Wordlessly, he guides me down to sink into me slowly. A slow hiss blows between his teeth before his jaw goes slack and my eyes flutter shut in ecstasy at the slight sting.

It felt like forever since I'd had him inside me but it couldn't have been long enough for me to forget how he stretched me. I moan shamelessly with my head thrown back, my waist already whining against him and Changkyun reaches up to tangle his fingers with the hair at my nape.

He pulls me forward, forcing me to look at him as he buries himself as deep as I'll allow him.

"Fuck me baby...fuck me like you fucking hate me.." Changkyun demands, the growl in his deep raspy voice driving me wild with emotion and lust.

I obey immediately, placing my hands on the back of the couch for better support. I slowly roll my hips back and forth to find my rhythm, using my lower body strength to bounce on him. Every movement pushes him deeper and I soon lose myself completely in how good he felt.

Like he was made for me.

My moans soon drowned out the sound of our skin slapping together, the wetness and stimulation pushing me closer to climax.

It never took long for Changkyun to make me cum. He knew my body that well and at times I resented it. He was arrogant with the power he held and it's shown in the amusement written all over his face right now.

His brow is perked and his eyes are fixed on my face, relishing in the painfully pleasured expression of my impending orgasm as he bucked his hips to drive himself exactly where I needed him.

When my legs begin to shake, he smiles and fucks into me faster until a rush of release spurts out and around his dick. My warmth and wetness surrounded him like a waterfall, and he fought against the current effortlessly as I cried out.

"Oh my god.." I drawl out and Changkyun silences anything else I might have said by pulling me in by the neck to kiss him sloppily.

He hugs me against him, holding me in place as his hips continue to roll upwards and stroking me slowly as we kiss.

"I changed my mind..." I mutter against his lips and he hums questioningly.

"I do hate you..." I finish, his only response being a cruel chuckle that makes my walls clench around him.

"Fuck, Mira..." he whispers, taking my bottom lip between his teeth. I pull back slowly, allowing the flesh to stretch before he releases it with reluctance.

I attempt to untangle myself from him but his embrace only tightens with resistance.

Before I can question him, Changkyun grunts as he stands with his arms hooked beneath my legs. My eyes widen in surprise to find his hardened gaze fixated on where were still connected, biting his lip and bouncing my body against his dick.

This angle was even more torturous as it not forced him deeper, but the constant feel of me pounding against him had my clit throbbing from the friction. Not to mention the fact that he held me up and fucked me like this for a while, reminding me of how strong he was physically.

I almost feel like I can't breathe and my voice is hoarse from moaning. I most likely came again. Or a few times. I wouldn't be able to tell. I can barely see since tears still blurred my vision from before and I had no choice but to be at the mercy of my ex and his determination to prove a point.

Though, I had no idea or care of what it was.

"You hate me? Hmm...you hate me?" He grunted in time with his hard strokes, still holding me up in his arms.

I mumble his name endlessly and amidst a string of breathy moans.

I do hate him.

Hate him for ruining all men for me after this.

Hate him for always fucking me..making love to me..like his life depended on it.

Hate him for branding himself on my damaged soul so that every time I closed my eyes, my heart projected his face against the blank walls of my mind.

Hate him for giving me no choice other than to love him.

Fuck, I love him.

Changkyun pauses to step briskly with me still in his hold, nudging his already open bedroom door away for us to enter.

A chill ran over my skin as he stepped deeper into his room. The scent of his cologne and bed sheets trigger memories I fought to forget and I gasp when the softness of his them grace my back.

He doesn't waste another second.

He spreads me wide, keen eyes on where his dick still split me and a thick stream of saliva drips from his tongue and onto the point where we met.

As if it was needed.

I just think he got harder at the idea of stuffing me with as much of his DNA as he could.

And I hate to admit how hot it was.

"Kyun.." I sigh and his eyes snap up to my begging eyes as he sinks into me.

His hips rock my body higher on the mattress and his solid arms cage me against his chest as he fucked me.

Slowly.

Purposefully.

It wasn't hurried and frantic like before.

He curled into me and stroked my warm velvety walls with a gentleness I'd missed from him.

He savored me.

On his lips. On his tongue. In my sex.

Changkyun made love to me like a man stroking against a current, fighting his way to shore.

He fucked me as if it pained him not to.

I felt his lips kissing the shell of my ear as he whispered my name.

Over and over.

I can tell he's unraveling and that the moment is limited.

I held him against me, my nails scraping over his back as he rocked into me faster and harder, making me gasp.

I needed him.

Maybe not beyond this moment or these four walls.

But I needed him now in any way I could.

He'd barely pulled out in time before he spurts himself all over the face of my pussy, hiccuping my name against my throat as he came.

He strokes himself slowly, squeezing the final few drops of cum over my pink folds before pressing his dick back inside of me.

He's still rock hard and my slicked walls welcome him in with zero resistance.

I brace my hands against his hard biceps as he sank deeper inside of me to the hilt, the tip of him pressing as far as it would go. He flexes his hips and pushes himself impossibly deep.

So deep that I can feel our pulses throbbing between us.

So deep that it was as if he was yearning to touch a part of me that he never felt. A part of me that would be our saving grace and keep the withering connection between us alive.

But all I felt was pain.

Sweet.

Somber.

Sobering.

Pain.

"Changkyun...." I whimper beneath him and he eases back an inch with a heavy sigh as he lays his full weight over me.

He rests his face in the crook of my neck and I feel his warm touch caressing my face. His thumb swipes over the apple of my cheek, sweeping over the trail of tears that still flowed from my eyes.

For a while we just lay there, leveling our labored breaths and staring into the sepia tone of his darkened apartment bedroom. I feel myself drifting asleep until the deep vibrations of Changkyun's tired voice pull me back up.

"Hmm?" I rasp and he sniffs and swallows the hard lump of emotion in his throat, hugging our naked bodies tighter together.

"I don't blame you...for hating me." He says shakily, sniffling again. If it weren't for his grip on me and my fatigue, I would have pushed him away just enough for me to see his face.

I furrow my brow and contemplate what I could say to him in response. Just to ease the pain in his voice a touch because I did love him that much.

But...

"I hate me too..." he adds on, squeezing me again.

Changkyun turns his face so that that his nose brushes against my nape and his shuddering breath against my skin makes me shiver.

He cries there for a moment and the weakened tone of his light sobs pull me down into the abyss with him. I say nothing though. Knowing anything I could say would either sound patronizing or enabling.

Or a like a lie.

And I just couldn't do it anymore.

But God Dammit if it didn't hurt.

"I'm sorry." He whipsers after his silence sets a pause in his tears. The words sound painful for him to say and for some reason, my heart ached.

This changed nothing. He was still who he was and so was I. As much as we loved each other, it would never be enough.

"Me too. " Is all I can manage to say and I tangle my fingers in the sweat-damp hair at his nape, stroking his scalp with my fingertips soothingly as we both lay motionless.

Still connected in the only way we could be.

🥵

#monsta x smut #changkyun #changkyun smut #jooheon #wonho #hyungwon #minhyuk #kihyun #hyunwoo #shownu #monsta x #monsta x fanfic #monsta x imagines #monsta x changkyun

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