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tightrope (pjm) | drabble series m.list

pining, f2fwb2l infidelity on jimin's part

warnings: angst, reader is in love with him but who isn't, swearing, making out, fwb but still sfw and nothing explicit, college parties, mentions of anxiety because reader represents my two brain cells when they have to come up with small talk, jimin calls reader sweetheart because he's a whore who likes to play with her heart 🤠

rating: pg-15

a/n: writing after a long time feels weird but the good kind of weird, its 3am idk what im talking about but here, take a fic

*throws fic at you*

one | two | three | four | five

oh yes he does

Mood 24/7

↳ Index [Chapter 14 - Masquerade]

Pairing: Hoseok x f.Reader, Seokjin x f.Reader, Jungkook x f.Reader, slight Taehyung x f.Reader 

Genre: Smut, Mystery, a lil bit of Horror 

Warnings: threesomes in the form of grinding, thigh riding, lots of neck kisses, sex in the middle of the dance floor, making out, mxm kissing too, fumbling, lots of sexy costumes, dirty talk, but also suspense and misunderstandings

Wordcount: 11.5k 

a/n: there is so much happening in this chapter, I don’t even know what I should comment on lmao. Also just so you know this is the last chapter before Sanguis Alpha goes on a little winter holiday break hehe 👁👁

“Oh wow, you actually came”, Hoseok greets you, taking you into a big hug before you can stop him. He already smells of alcohol.

“I did”, you and him step out of the hug, “my apartment was too sad." 

"Gotcha. But also look at you. You look hot as fuck. That corset looks so good on”, Hoseok says, placing his hand on your shoulder and letting his eyes travel over your body shamelessly. 

“Thank you very much”, you say and make a curtsy, “but you look hot too. I especially love the mask with that outfit. Also really love the harness, especially bold choice to go shirtless with it”, you say hooking your fingers in his chest harness and pulling him closer slightly. 

Hoseok purrs quietly, fire flicking up in his eyes for the briefest of moments.

“Thank you, thank you. I purchased them last week”, he explains, tilting his head back slightly to reveal his neck. The way his muscles flex under the leather straps, you try not to concentrate on too much.

You break your eyes away before you can do something you later regret, clearing your throat in the process. You look to your side, watching as the rest of Sanguis struts up to you and Hoseok. 

Jungkook is dressed in his full soldier uniform, face hidden behind a gas mask. Seokjin chose to go for a mask, which only covers the upper part of his face. Golden, it goes perfectly with his burgundy velvet suit and golden boots. He was not wearing a shirt under the jacket, revealing his chiselled torso.

You whistle through your teeth. 

“Look at you guys. Hot damn”, you say. 

“Thank you, you look good too”, Seokjin says, eyes not so subtly falling to your cleavage. 

“Thanks”, you hear Jungkook’s voice behind the mask. 

“Okay but damn Kook you really went all out with the costume”, you say, touching his arm. You feel his muscles tense under your touch, you can only imagine the way he lowers his eyes behind that mask. 

“T-thank you, that’s n-nice”, he stutters. 

Before he can grow any more awkward however, Hoseok drapes his arm across his shoulder. 

“Want to get drunk and then grind on the dance floor?” he suggests, looking between you and Jungkook. 

“I’m down”, Seokjin says, hooking his arm with yours. 

“Wait what?” you and Jungkook say in unison, already getting dragged to the bar. 

Keep reading

puns || kim seokjin

Kim Seokjin x reader

Summary: A handsome stranger is telling puns on the bus, and you find them almost as funny as he does.

Genre: fluff

Words: 1838

I sighed as I took a seat on the bus, on my way to work. I always enjoyed the ride there; it gave me a chance to clear my mind and people-watch for the journey, preparing myself for the busy and tiring night ahead. I stretched my legs, tired from college all day, and knowing I would be on my feet all night.

Despite my fatigue, I was in a good mood, happily watching the city pass by and enjoying the warm, late spring weather. I moved my attention from the window to the door as the bus stopped, allowing people to get on. I watched as an old man pottered on first, a middle-aged woman following him, and just behind her two young men, talking amicably as they strolled on. 

Both were evidently attractive, but my eyes lingered on the taller one. He had light brown hair framing his forehead and smooth skin, his facial features almost making him appear godly as they spread into a beautiful smile. They took a seat in front of me, their backs to me as they continued their conversation. 

Unintentionally, I began to listen to what they were saying, my attention automatically drawn to them.

“Okay, Yoongi, listen to this one,” the taller one started, already grinning, “how does a penguin build its house?” His friend simply sighed in response, looking out of the window. “Igloos it together!” He exclaimed, letting out a loud, squeaky laugh and clapping his hands together.

I grinned at the joke, knowing they couldn’t see me. I had an easy sense of humour, and puns were my weakness. ‘Yoongi’ didn’t even bat an eyelid at the joke, remaining completely deadpan, but the tall one didn’t seemed phased by this reaction. In fact, his failure to elicit a reaction in his friend only seemed to encourage him as he continued.

“Hey, did you hear about the kidnapping?” He asked, giggling. 

“No.” His friend said, sounding completely unamused and sick of puns. 

“Well, don’t worry, he woke up.” His doe eyes turned to crescents, his body shaking as he chuckled. I had to stifle a laugh at that one, leaning back and smirking. I admired his willpower; determinedly continuing despite his friend’s obvious disinterest. Again, the other boy barely reacted. 

They then began another conversation, discussing what they would do that night. I was still listening to them (reassuring myself that it would be pretty hard for me not to, considering how close they were sitting to me), and though not staring obviously, I couldn’t seem to keep my eyes off the taller boy as he spoke. The late afternoon sun leaking through the bus windows lit up his features, making his hair appear golden and his skin glowing. I dragged my gaze away and looked out of the window, listening as they discussed which restaurant to visit later.

“Should we go to that new place down the road? Their cold noodles are supposed to be really good.” The smaller boy was contemplating, scrolling through his phone. 

“That reminds me,” started the taller one, “what do you call a fake noodle?” His friend groaned, and I couldn’t help but to smile. 

“I don’t care.” Yoongi continued to look at his phone. I leant forward, excited for the answer.

“An impasta!” He finished the joke, clapping his hands. I couldn’t help the barking laugh that escaped my lips for a second before I clapped a hand over my mouth. My face heated up as I realised how loud it had been. Both boys whipped their heads around, the one who told the joke grinning at me.

“Sorry,” I giggled, waving my hand, “that was a really good joke.” He beamed at me, still laughing himself.

“Right? See, Yoongi, someone with a real sense of humour!” He said triumphantly, gesturing towards me, and I blushed. Yoongi just shook his head at the both of us, giving me a small, polite smile, before returning to finding a restaurant on his phone. The other one turned back to me, a friendly smile gracing his features.

“Do you know any jokes?” He asked after a moment. I racked my brains for a good pun, wanting to keep the conversation going with him. 

“Okay, what do you call an elephant that doesn’t matter?” I questioned, already smiling as I thought about the answer. He pondered it for a second, before shaking his head.

“I don’t know.”

“An irrelephant.” I answered, and he immediately erupted into laughter, clapping his hands together. I beamed, proud of myself for making him laugh. I was surprised to see Yoongi turn around briefly with a small grin at my joke too. This immediately offended the taller one.

“Ya, why do you laugh at her jokes but not at mine?” He demanded, his eyes growing wide. Yoongi scoffed as I watched on with amusement.

“Her jokes are better than yours.” He replied bluntly, and received another outraged look from the boy next to him, who then turned to me, ignoring the comment.

“That was a good one. What’s your name?” He chuckled. 

“I’m Y/N.” I returned his smile.

“Jin,” he gestured to himself, “and Yoongi.” He pointed to his darker haired friend. “Nice to meet you.” 

Finally, he had a name. I looked at him, taking in his soft features and open face. It suited him. 

We continued to chat good-naturedly as the bus rattled around the city, my forearms now resting on the backs of their chairs as I leaned forward. Yoongi turned out to be a lot friendlier than he looked, and Jin was just as enigmatic as he seemed from an outside perspective. I found myself frowning, disappointment filling me as I saw my bus stop looming ahead.

I needed to find a way to see him again. Thinking quickly, I pulled out a scrap of paper and scribbled something down, leaning on the empty seat next to me. I stood up as the bus slowed to a stop, stumbling a bit and holding onto a pole for support.

“This is my stop, but I couldn’t help but to overhear that you guys are looking for a place to eat.” I grinned, handing Jin the piece of paper. “This is the restaurant I work at. It’s pretty good.” I heard the bus doors open behind me. “Stop by if you feel like it. I’m working all night.” 

I got off before I could hear a reply, watching him grin at me through the window as the bus drove off, my own cheeks still stretched into a cheerful smile.

Later that evening as I waited tables, I kept getting distracted by watching the door for the people coming in, hoping to see Jin’s face amongst the swarms of customers entering. I bit my lip, trying to catch a glance of him as I took orders and hurriedly laid places.

“Y/N, can you focus please? What is up with you today?” My colleague asked irritably, her arms laden with dishes as she pointed to the table that needed to be cleared. I shook my head, apologising.

“Yes, sorry, nothing.” I sighed, quickly moving to pick up empty dishes. I carried them back to the bar, seeing her shake her head in annoyance, frowning at the door.

“Look,” she nodded to the door, “flip a coin to decide who takes them?” 

I looked to the entrance to see a boisterous group of young men, talking loudly and laughing; the type of customers you didn’t want to be in charge of. However, I immediately recognised Yoongi at the front of the group, his distinctive hair and piercing gaze separating him easily from the average customer, and next to him, a taller, more familiar boy. Jin noticed me quickly and met my gaze, waving across the room. I grinned, patting my colleague’s shoulder.

“Don’t worry, I’ve got it.” I made my way over to them, smirking. 

“Good evening gentlemen.” I said, giving them all menus but repeatedly meeting Jin’s gaze as I did so. I briefly looked around at the six other boys, recognising only Yoongi, and receiving smiles from all of them.

“Y/N,” my attention was brought back to Jin. He pretended to look at the menu for a while before looking up. “why couldn’t the bicycle stand up by itself?” I supressed a smile, pretending to think for a moment.

“…is it because it was two tired?” I asked innocently, watching as his face dropped. His expression of shock was priceless, and I laughed along with the six others, who immediately began teasing him.

“You’ve been practicing.” He narrowed his eyes at me, grinning.

“Well, I had to, to keep up with you.” I flirted back, and he simply stared back with a small grin. I felt his eyes on me as I took their orders and went to serve other tables, the smile barely leaving my face.

I got reprimanded several times by colleagues as I spent most of the night by their table, exchanging puns with Jin and joking around with the others, and only leaving when I was afraid I would actually lose my job. All seven of them gave off an aura of sincerity and humility that drew me towards them, but the energy between Jin and I was something that was impossible to describe; I couldn’t seem to stay away from him.

At the end of my shift, they finally decided it was time to leave. The other boys waved goodbye, giving me a generous tip before walking out, still talking and laughing loudly. Jin was the last to leave the table, and he stayed sitting as I cleared it around him.

“Can I help you?” He asked, reaching for some plates, but I slapped his hand away.

“No, Jin, it’s literally my job.” I chuckled. “Besides, my manager will think I’m slacking if he sees a customer helping me.” He nodded understandingly, resting his chin in his hands and watching me for a moment, a small smile on his face. Once I had finished wiping the table he stood up and walked around it, coming to stand very close to me. I had to crane my neck upwards to see him, and I could feel the heat radiating off his body as he peered down at me.

I waited for him to say something as he seemed to just be studying my face. I distracted myself, putting my notebook away and wiping my hands on a cloth, before he finally spoke.

“So Y/N.” I looked up and met his intense gaze, my breath catching in my throat. He cocked his head to the side, the corner of his mouth lifting. “Do you like raisins?”

I frowned for a second, before smiling dejectedly; that hadn’t been what I was expecting him to say, but how could I expect anything else but another pun? I sighed patiently, giving him a small smile.

“Not really.” I admitted and he smirked, his eyes glinting. 

“Then how about a date?”

masterlist

never gonna stop thinking about this look

like if you use or save  (´･ᴥ･`)੭･ﾟ:* ♡

don rafaaa

↳ Index [Chapter 14 - Masquerade]

Pairing: Hoseok x f.Reader, Seokjin x f.Reader, Jungkook x f.Reader, slight Taehyung x f.Reader 

Genre: Smut, Mystery, a lil bit of Horror 

Warnings: threesomes in the form of grinding, thigh riding, lots of neck kisses, sex in the middle of the dance floor, making out, mxm kissing too, fumbling, lots of sexy costumes, dirty talk, but also suspense and misunderstandings

Wordcount: 11.5k 

a/n: there is so much happening in this chapter, I don’t even know what I should comment on lmao. Also just so you know this is the last chapter before Sanguis Alpha goes on a little winter holiday break hehe 👁👁

“Oh wow, you actually came”, Hoseok greets you, taking you into a big hug before you can stop him. He already smells of alcohol.

“I did”, you and him step out of the hug, “my apartment was too sad." 

"Gotcha. But also look at you. You look hot as fuck. That corset looks so good on”, Hoseok says, placing his hand on your shoulder and letting his eyes travel over your body shamelessly. 

“Thank you very much”, you say and make a curtsy, “but you look hot too. I especially love the mask with that outfit. Also really love the harness, especially bold choice to go shirtless with it”, you say hooking your fingers in his chest harness and pulling him closer slightly. 

Hoseok purrs quietly, fire flicking up in his eyes for the briefest of moments.

“Thank you, thank you. I purchased them last week”, he explains, tilting his head back slightly to reveal his neck. The way his muscles flex under the leather straps, you try not to concentrate on too much.

You break your eyes away before you can do something you later regret, clearing your throat in the process. You look to your side, watching as the rest of Sanguis struts up to you and Hoseok. 

Jungkook is dressed in his full soldier uniform, face hidden behind a gas mask. Seokjin chose to go for a mask, which only covers the upper part of his face. Golden, it goes perfectly with his burgundy velvet suit and golden boots. He was not wearing a shirt under the jacket, revealing his chiselled torso.

You whistle through your teeth. 

“Look at you guys. Hot damn”, you say. 

“Thank you, you look good too”, Seokjin says, eyes not so subtly falling to your cleavage. 

“Thanks”, you hear Jungkook’s voice behind the mask. 

“Okay but damn Kook you really went all out with the costume”, you say, touching his arm. You feel his muscles tense under your touch, you can only imagine the way he lowers his eyes behind that mask. 

“T-thank you, that’s n-nice”, he stutters. 

Before he can grow any more awkward however, Hoseok drapes his arm across his shoulder. 

“Want to get drunk and then grind on the dance floor?” he suggests, looking between you and Jungkook. 

“I’m down”, Seokjin says, hooking his arm with yours. 

“Wait what?” you and Jungkook say in unison, already getting dragged to the bar. 

Keep reading

glass cage

READ ON AO3

✎ metastacia ❝ 24k ⚐ mature

Seokjin is still figuring out if the fall was worth the flight.

HOME ; kth

pairing: kim taehyung x reader

genre: ANGST!!!, exes2lovers

word count: approx. 2.5k

summary: you run into your ex-boyfriend at a bar. the only problem is that you are still very much in love with him. — anon‘s request is here.

warnings: so. much. angst., crying, alcohol, did i mention angst, kissing, swearing

songs i listened to whilst writing: hold me down — daniel caesar

a/n: my requests were close but anon requested heavy angst and i took that and ran with it. i LOVE writing angst because i enjoy inflicting pain! (just kidding) i hope you like it anon, and i’m sorry it took a while!!

Blind dates sucked ass.

That was the one thing you were sure of, as you sat at the bar, swirling a glass of water — you’d been tempted to order something stronger, because God, you were tired. It was Friday, and you’d had a long week at work. You hadn’t wanted to come on this stupid blind date anyway, but your best friend had insisted. You’d tried telling her that you still hadn’t really moved on from Him, but she wasn’t having it. So here you were, perched at a bar, completely sober and completely alone — the guy had stood you up.

It was humiliating, being the only person in the bar alone. Everybody else was with a group of friends, or with a partner; and judging by the pitying glances some people had thrown you, it was embarrassingly obvious that you’d been ditched.

You huffed our a breath and glanced at your watch. It had been fifty three minutes — it was time you accepted the dude wasn’t showing up. You downed the glass of water, and made to grab your purse — but before you could slide off the stool, a painfully familiar voice sounded behind you.

“YN?”

You froze, your back to the speaker, and a thousand thoughts raced through your mind, tumbling and tripping all over each other. And then you turned around and suddenly your chest was tight and your throat was closing and your eyes were stinging because it was Him, it was Kim Taehyung standing right in front of you.

The first thing you realised was that he looked good. No, good wasn’t the right word — he looked better than good. Even when the two of you had dated — because that’s what you were, you were exes — he had always been beautiful.

“Tae?” you croaked in surprise.

His already round eyes widened even further when you called him that, and you cursed yourself silently. You couldn’t call him that, not anymore.

“YN,” he repeated in a soft breath, lowering the mask on his face, and there was something you couldn’t read behind the surprise in his eyes.

He used to call you angel, not YN. He used to say it was because you were his guardian angel.

You let out a breathy laugh. “Wow — I — hi! What — what are you doing here?”

Taehyung smiled slightly and took a seat next to you at the bar. His jeans brushed your bare knee as he did so and you swallowed thickly. He gestured to the two people standing next to him, and with a jolt you realised it was Hobi and Jimin underneath those face masks. “You remember Hobi and Jimin, right?” Taehyung asked cautiously.

You nodded, reaching up to hug the two men tightly. “Yeah, of course I do!” Taehyung’s friends weren’t easy to forget. All six of them were so welcoming and bright and happy, that soon into your relationship, you’d felt they were your best friends too. You missed them.

Hobi and Jimin hugged you back tightly, full of how have you been and how is Jia, and how is your job and did you know how much we missed you.

Then Jimin exhaled and clapped his hands. “Hyung, let’s dance,” he declared, grabbing Hoseok and dragging him to the dance floor as you giggled.

Taehyung remained in his seat,and he quirked a brow at you, a habit you knew so well it hurt. “So, what are you doing here? On your own?”

You laughed slightly bitterly. “You remember my best friend Jia?” He nodded. “She set me up on some blind date today. The guy didn’t show up.”

Taehyung’s face dropped. “Bastard,” he cursed emphatically. “I’m sorry, angel.”

Both of you froze at the nickname, which had slipped so automatically off his tongue. You exhaled shakily and then shrugged. “Don’t be. I didn’t really want to be here anyway.”

You blinked and then decided to give Taehyung the easy way out of this conversation — you would leave and he could enjoy the rest of his night. “I was actually just about to leave.”

You made to get up, but a warm hand grabbing your own stopped you. “Wait!” Taehyung blurted. “At least let me buy you a drink,” he added slower. “I want — wanted to catch up. Only — only if you want to, of course!” he added hastily, and you could tell how flustered he was getting, with reddened cheeks and stumbling words.

You smiled softly. “I’d love to,” you said, and sat back down. Then you darted a glance to the dance floor — “They won’t mind?”

He shrugged. “Nah. I wouldn’t be able to keep up with their dancing anyway.”

“I don’t know,” you teased lightly. “From what I remember, you’re just as good as them.”

He shook his head vehemently, a laugh bubbling out of his chest. Something in your chest tightens at the sound, because God, you forgot how well you knew him. You knew every nervous habit, what every flick of the eyes meant — you knew he hated half the alcoholic drinks in existence, loved Bing Crosby — you knew how he’d dance to jazz music while he made you pancakes in the morning. You knew how he’d grab you by the arm and force you to dance with him. How he’d feed you a bite of anything he ordered, even if you ordered the same thing — how he’d insist of having a bite of your own and claim that yours tasted better.

There was a lump in your throat, and suddenly you couldn’t meet his eyes. Your eyes flicked to the bartender, who Taehyung had just flagged down.

“Soju for me, and…“ he glanced to you with an easy smile that sent your heart fluttering. “You still drink margaritas, right?”

You nodded, and as the bartender left, you couldn’t help a strained smile. “Can’t believe you still remember my order.”

Something in his face softened. “Of course I remember,” he murmured. And suddenly the air was thick with tension, thick with all the things the two of you never said, and all the things you did say.

The breakup last year was one of the hardest things that ever happened to you. You had never stopped loving Taehyung — how could you? He was so easy to love, so hard to hate. You couldn’t hate him — he could hate you, though. The way you left him; you were letting him go, because how could you make him stay with you? When he was one of the most famous men alive?

Simply put, he was too good for you, and while you knew that, he didn’t. He’d begged you to stay, and you hadn’t. It was really your decision to leave, and yet here you were with tears stinging the back of your eyes and your nails digging into the palm of your skin.

“Don’t do that,” he said suddenly, and he took your hands gently in his, carefully unfurling them so your nails were no longer digging onto your skin. “You’ll hurt yourself,” he murmured, but you could still hear him over the thumping bass in the bar.

You swallowed as you watched him bent over your hands. Your throat was closing up, painfully tight and no matter how much you swallowed, it stayed that way. “Taehyung,” you choked out, and he finally looked up from your hands, and his expression immediately morphed into one of concern.

“Let’s get out of here,” he said decisively, and throwing a bill down on the bar and shouting to the bartender to forget the drinks, he took your hand and led you outside the bar. Luckily, people were too wrapped up in each other to notice BTS’ V holding a random person’s hand.

He didn’t let go of your hand once the two of you were outside, either. Instead, he kept it in his as he pulled you down the street, and the scene was so familiar but so painful that you could have sobbed. The two of you had gone for late night walks often, and it had always been just like this — him leading the way, your hand tiny inside his. And then he’d tell you you looked cold and give you his stupid scarf, the scarf you still had at the back of your wardrobe because he had refused to take it back, telling you that you would be cold without it. What he didn’t know was that you felt cold without him.

Taehyung led you to a park bench — not just any park bench, your park bench, the same park bench the two of you always sat at, whether it was one of your midnight adventures or an afternoon walk or an early morning coffee shop visit. The two of you sat in silence, but he never released your hand. He clung to it tightly — you remembered that about him. He always clung to your hand like a lifeline, like it was the only thing keeping him grounded.

Before, you would have leant your head on his shoulder. Maybe asked him to sing for you. Ask him to cuddle you. No matter what you asked, he always did it without complaint — until you asked him to let you go.

Taehyung was the one to break the silence first. “You left without saying goodbye,” he whispered, and there was something so excruciatingly pained in the way his voice cracked that finally forced the tears out of your eyes until they were slipping down your cheeks.

“I’m sorry,” you choked out. “Tae, I’m sorry, I’m so fucking sorry, I really — I don’t — ”

He cut you off with a gentle, “Shh.” And then he was pulling you into his arms, smoothing your hair down. “Don’t cry,” he begged. “Please don’t cry, I hate it when you cry. It’s okay, angel, it’s okay. You’re okay.”

“It’s not,” you sobbed into his chest. “It’s not okay, I hurt you really bad and I’m so sorry.”

“It’s okay,” he repeated thickly, and that was when you realised he was crying too.

“I’m such a bitch,” you said angrily, pulling back and wiping tears from your face. “I hurt you so much and I didn’t even give you the reason.”

Because it was true — you hadn’t told Taehyung that you weren’t good enough for him; you knew he wouldn’t understand, wouldn’t believe it, and so you simply hadn’t given a reason, just asked him to let you go. And he’d fought you, begged you to stay, until both of your throats were hoarse from fighting and crying, and then he’d given in. “If that’s really what you want,” he’d said, and you had felt your heart shatter at those words because of course it wasn’t what you wanted. But you had needed to do it, for him.

“It’s okay,” he repeated now, carefully wiping tears from your cheek — in vain, though, because they just kept falling.

“I’m sorry,” you sobbed again. “I’m really sorry, I should have told you why, I really don’t — ”

“How many times do I have to tell you it’s okay until you believe me?” he said sadly and he pulled you back against his chest, his arms wrapping around you tightly. You remembered him holding you like this all the time, and you’d told him, ages ago, it had made you feel safe. He’d loved that.

“I asked you to let me go because I thought I wasn’t good enough for you,” you confessed finally, your voice small, and muffled by the fabric of his clothes.

You felt him stiffen. “What?” he said sharply, and you sucked in a breath. You knew this would be exactly how he reacted.

He pulled back to cradle your face in his huge hands. “What the fuck, YN?” he said tightly. “You — you thought what? Why the fuck would you ever think that?”

Your eyes flicked away from his intense gaze, and again, you swallowed painfully. “I’m sorry,” you repeated, your voice small.

“Angel,” he whispered. “Look at me.”

You looked at him, looked at the tears filling his eyes and the tremble of his lips. He was so close to you, so close that it hurt.

“You idiot,” he saidsoftly, without any real feeling behind it. “You were — you are — always, always enough for me. You were more than enough for me, you made me so fucking happy! You were everything to me, why couldn’t you see that? Why can’t you see that?”

Your only response was to hitch a breath, voice breaking as you murmur his name. “Tae...”

But he wasn’t finished. “If anything, I’m sorry,” he said thickly. “That I didn’t show you enough how much you meant to me.”

You shook your head. “No. No, that’s not true, you showed me it more than enough times, Tae, this wasn’t your fault.”

And then he dropper his head on your shoulder, pushing it into the crook of your neck, and you held him there, suddenly overwhelmed with memories because the two of you had sat here on this same park bench in the same position countless times, but this time it was killing you both.

“I’m sorry,” he was mumbling into your neck. “Please don’t go.”

The last sentence stole your breath, because you were thrust back to the memory of that night, the night where you left him. He’d asked you a thousand times, please don’t go. And then he’d said he’d let you go, but he‘d asked you to stay one last night, and he’d looked so heartbroken you didn’t have the heart to refuse him. And so you slept one last night in his arms, wtih his head pushed into the crook of your neck and the remnants of tears on both your faces. You’d woken up before him, and his limbs were entangled with yours and he was holding you so tightly, like he was afraid you would slip away.

He was right. You did exactly that. You slipped out of his arms. You made him pancakes, and left them on the kitchen surface. And then you’d pressed one gentle kiss to the forehead of the sleeping man, and walked straight out of his life.

“YN, angel, please,” he said now, raising his head to look you in the eye beseechingly. “Please, can we try again? I need you, it always hurts without you with me, I really need you.”

You hesitated, and then you wiped the tears form your face and tried a shaky smile. “Yes. Yes, please, I want to try again, I want to stay with you.”

Something in his face brightened and he pulled you into his arms even tighter Han before and then he was kissing the top of your head over and over, whispering, ”God, I missed you like hell.”

“I missed you too,” uou whispered hoarsely into him, and then the two of you leant back to look each other in the eye. You don’t know how made the first move, just that suddenly the two of you were kissing, melting into each other — and finally, the tightness in your chest loosened. You were home.