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In my dreams

Seungmin x reader. (fake) enemies to lovers. my interpretation of in my dreams by tearliner, love X stereo.

Seungmin has never liked you. You never understood why, but you were slowly coming to terms with it. However, you gradually come to learn that there is more to his feelings than what meets the eye.

skz song series

cw: reader has anxiety and deals with lots of self-doubt and insecurities.

a.n: the end of our skz song series!! and a pretty personal final fic, this one is based on my own experience with anxiety, so it might differ for everyone :) thank you for reading as always <3

You watch, a soft smile on your face as two little girls play with one another in the playground. It reminds you of simpler times, when you could just walk up to another human and become friends with them instantly.

But reality is much more challenging, especially for someone like you, constantly plagued by their anxious thoughts.

Anxiety didn't tiptoe into your life, one drop at a time so you'd get accustomed to its overwhelming presence. Instead, you woke up one day and it barged into you, through cracks and dents you didn't even know existed in your being, and then it made itself a permanent home within the confines of your heart.

You never truly learned how to live with this parasite feeding off your soul, draining you completely until you became a mere shell of who you once were. You never fully adjusted to the invisible hands choking you from within, to the voice nagging you in the back of your mind, telling you that something horrible was bound to happen.

Because nothing ever went wrong, day after day, nothing bad happened. And yet, the feeling of dread persisted and lingered until you started to believe that the problem was you.

And once you opened the door to self-doubt, you could never fully close it again.

You're too overwhelmed, too nervous, too much of everything bad. Your conversations are scrutinized, down to every syllable you uttered, to the way you smiled and how you laughed. The interactions might differ but the regret that haunts you after is the same.

So, you diluted your being, in an effort to be more acceptable, easier in the lives of the people around you. You believed that if you pleased everyone you ever encoutered then at the end you must satisfy yourself too.

You sigh softly, drumming your fingers along your knee. You’re starting a new year in college tomorrow. Your first one wasn't exceptional by any means. Aileen, the girl who sat beside you from time to time was nice, and you grabbed coffee sometimes as you prepared for your exams together. But she had other friends, ones she's much closer to, ones she invited to her birthday party, ones who she didn't simply fill her free time with.

You shake your head, putting a stop to the thoughts in your head before they get too much once again, pushing you over an edge you don't want to be in right now. 

You'll try harder this year. You'll be okay, for once.

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Your professor Lee is scribbling something on the large whiteboard, as he waits for the class to fill up. Someone sits next to you, and the smell of their cologne wafts to your nose- hints of vanilla and wood seemingly calming down your nerves. You quickly take a glance at them, to find a guy with long brown hair and freckles dusting his cheeks. He's taking out his notepad from his bag, and you smile at the chick keychain he has on it. He catches you looking and you quickly avert your gaze, heat creeping up your cheeks. 

"Hi, I'm Felix," he greets enthusiastically, and you turn your head slowly to be met with his wide grin. It softens his features, making his eyes turn into moon crescents. You envy his ability to smile without overthinking how he looks. 

"Yn," you introduce back, and he nods, the grin still etched on his face. "You were in my Economics class last year, no?" he asks and you tilt your head to the side, as you mull over his question.

"I was but I don't remember seeing you," you admit sheepishly and he waves a hand in the air, not bothered the least by your words. 

"It's okay, I just remembered your presentation on Inflation. I finally understood why we can't just print more money," he admits with a chuckle, and you giggle against your will. 

"I don't blame you, it sounds like an easy solution," you agree, and his eyes widen. 

"Right! when I tell my friends they just stare at me in disappointment."

You laugh at his adorable pout, an unfamiliar warmth stirring within your chest. He's nice. 

"I'm glad I helped you then, I was so nervous presenting it," you clear your throat as he smiles impressively at you. "Really? I couldn’t tell at all." 

Mr. Lee calls for your attention and you both turn your heads back to the board. You couldn’t really focus, Felix’s words echoing in your head like a broken mantra- he couldn’t tell you were nervous. A sudden relief dawns on you at the possibility that, maybe, not everyone is aware of the neverending storm raging within you, threatening to drown you at any giving moment.

≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋

"Movie night at my dorm?" Felix proposes as he packs up his bag, your two hours long class finally done.

"Will Seungmin be there?" you ask, a slight edge to your voice and Felix pauses, shaking his head at you.

"Yn, you're overreacting. I promise he doesn't hate you."

"Have you ever seen him smiling at me?" you ask, arching your eyebrow expectantly at him. He stays silent and you wiggle your finger in the air. "Exactly! Please tell me he won't be there."

"About that... He's helping me bake the cookies," Felix smiles sheepishly and you groan, falling dramatically on your seat.

"I’m not coming."

"But the cookies," Felix pouts, and the promise of the chewy baked goods is so enticing it makes you second-guess your decision.

"The cookies...," you whine, and Felix giggles grabbing your hand to pull you up.

"I’ll see you at 5?"

"Yes," you concede, a small smile on your lips. You wait until Felix bids you goodbye for it to finally slip from your face.

Seungmin has never liked you, from the moment Felix introduced you to him. You still remember it clear as day, the way his eyes slightly widened when they fell on you, before narrowing down. How he didn't utter a single word when Felix left you both alone to get your drinks. Your panic grew as an uncomfortable silence reigned on the both of you, and you racked your brain for something to say to cut through that eerie quiet.  

"Seungmin, right?" you asked, a bit too cheerfully, and you winced inwardly at your tone. He didn't reply, only humming back. It was so faint you wouldn't have caught it had you not been staring at him intently.

"What's your major?" Your voice cracked.

"Computer science." He replied curtly, and you waited patiently, expecting him to return the question. He didn't. And you shifted awkwardly from one foot to another. Maybe he just didn't do well with strangers. Maybe he wasn't a chatty person, to complement Felix's extroverted nature.

But you were wrong. You watched in complete astonishment as he teased Felix relentlessly, a wide smile on his face. It made his eyes soften, a newfound fondness itching itself on his expressions. He laughed and he joked and you felt yourself shrink more and more, this way he wouldn't notice you anymore, wouldn't glare at you as if you did something horribly wrong to him.

Felix tried to include you as best as he could in their conversation, but you tuned it out. It was hard to focus on their talk when there was a tumultuous one ongoing in your mind. Seungmin's behavior just further cemented every horrible idea you held about yourself. There is something wrong about you, and he can see it. You may have fooled Felix but you didn't fool Seungmin. If you were him you wouldn't talk to you either.

Every encounter with Seungmin since then left you feeling fifteen years old again, in a classroom full of unkind eyes zeroed on you. You tried to talk about his interests, to string along a normal conversation, one that would reassure that your first encounter was a wrongful impression.

But he did not like talking to you, only offering short replies in response. It’s as if his tongue was tied in your response, and in return it only magnified the knot in your stomach. You went through every conversation with him a million times in your head, trying to pinpoint what exactly went wrong. What warranted him to be so silent in your presence, and yours only, as if you weren’t worthy of a simple conversation. And the answer always tied back to you.

So, you’ve been avoiding him like the plague for the past month, sparing him the chore that is existing near you. It was particularly hard since Felix was his best friend and roommate, and surprisingly he actually enjoyed spending time with you. Still, you couldn’t help but think that it was only a matter of time before Felix started to hate you too.  

≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋

"You're moving too much," Seungmin chastises and you freeze in your place at his words. You are sitting on the couch of Felix’s dorm later on that day, a horror movie playing in the small TV before you. Felix decided to lay on the floor, buried in a pool of yellow blankets, and a long pillow that weirdly had the picture of one of their friends printed on it. "It's my safety net," he explained and you didn't question him any further.

For some reason, Seungmin decided to sit next to you, instead of the opposing couch. Granted, he can see the TV more clearly from here, still this is the first time he willingly went somewhere near you, let alone talked to you.

You decide to ignore him, too focused on predicting the next jump scare, your feet tapping the floor furiously. But still, it happens so abruptly, eliciting a startled gasp from you, anf you clutch the edge of the couch even tighter.  

"Close your eyes," Seungmin speaks suddenly and you raise an eyebrow at him, confused. 

"There is a jump scare coming soon," he clears his throat, "just... close your eyes if you don't want to see it." 

You comply without much thought and soon enough, you can hear a shrill scream coming from the screen. He was right. 

"It passed," he says softly, and you tentatively open your eyes once again. There is a foreign expression on Seungmin's face, one you haven't seen before, but it passes as quickly as it came, like a dream slipping between your fingers as soon as you wake up. 

"How did you know?" you ask, hugging your knees tightly to your chest. 

"I already watched this movie."

"Really? Why are you watching it again?"

"Because. I had nothing better to do," he says, almost defensively, his hand now covering his mouth as if he had to physically stop the words from spilling out. 

You don't reply, turning back to look at the screen. Seungmin doesn't tell you when a jump scare is coming next, he simply taps your arm, and you close your eyes on cue. 

His hand brushing against your bare skin feels weird, not uncomfortable by any means, but it still is a foreign sensation. You didn't know he had such soft hands, and you always imagined them to be cold. But they are warm, and you wonder what other things about Seungmin you've been wrong about.

≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋

"I'm so tired," Felix groans, laying his head on your shoulder and you giggle, patting his head in mock sympathy. It's been three months since the start of your year, which means that the assignments are starting to pile up on you all.

"Me too," you sigh, and Seungmin stays silent next to you. Felix dragged you both to this coffeeshop, a little outing to recharge his spirit, as he texted you. You're slowly getting used to Seungmin's brooding presence. He talks to you a little more, even cracking a few jokes here and there. But you’re still wary of him. You keep your guard up just in case he forcefully brings a mirror to your face once again, reminding you of everything you despise about yourself.

"I'll go order, it's my treat. Pick a place for us?" Felix says and you nod, walking ahead of Seungmin towards a table near the back.

You sit down first, and Seungmin follows second, sitting right across from you. You quickly bring out your phone, scrolling mindlessly through the apps to distract yourself from the man in front of you.

"You have a presentation tomorrow, right?" Seungmin speaks up, startling you, and you slowly put your phone down.

"Yes, how did you know?"

"Felix told me that it makes up 25% of your grade. Are you nervous?"

"A little," you admit, even though ‘a little’ didn't even begin to cover it.

"Don't be. You'll do well," he says, a hint of a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. You almost feel as if you've imagined it before it dissipates.

"Thank you," you nod, as Felix brings the tray down your table.

"Is this for me?" you ask tentatively, pointing to the strawberry milkshake, a sore thumb sticking out between the iced americano, and the hazelnut Frappuccino, Seungmin’s and Felix’s respective go to orders.

"They got the order wrong. I got you an iced matcha," Felix pouts, double checking his receipt.

"It's okay," you smile slightly. There was nothing you despised more than having to change up your order.

"You don't want to drink this," Seungmin says, staring at you expectantly and you wave your hand in the air dismissively. "I don't mind."

Seungmin stands up, grabbing the drink from your hand before taking the receipt from the table. He goes to the counter and you watch in astonishment as he comes back, a green drink in hand this time.

"Here," he hands you your cup, before grabbing his own and sipping from it. Your drink is cold, but the warm tingles spreading through your being at his sweet gesture outweigh any other feeling.

≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋

Talking in front of 267 people never gets easier.

You memorized your presentation; you rehearsed it so much you could probably recite it with your eyes closed. Yet, the nerves still found a way to weave themselves inside you. Your hands were shaking, so much you couldn't even stare at the notes you prepared. Your palms were sweaty, blood rushing rapidly to your ears, tuning out your voice as you spoke.

You can’t even recall what you said exactly, it’s as if your body had a mind of its own, your mouth moving itself without you commanding it. You aren’t sure how it was, but someone smiled at you reassuringly from the first row, and the professor clapped, so you assume you did okay.

The class finally ends, your nerves slowly dissipating and leaving in their trail an excruciating exhaustion. You rub your eyes tiredly, as you slowly walk out of the door, before stopping in your tracks when you notice Seungmin leaning against the wall, hands buried in his varsity jacket.

His eyes are closed, a pair of earphones dangling across his chest. But then, as if he feels you looking at him, he opens his eyes, locking his gaze on you. You stay put in your place as he walks to you, his bag loosely hanging from his shoulder. He hooks his thumb underneath the strap, keeping it in place

"How was it?" he questions, and it takes you a few seconds to register what he was asking about. Your presentation. Was he waiting for you?

"I think I did well?" you reply, but it comes out more of a question to which he giggles softly.

"Are you asking me?" he teases and you roll your eyes playfully. "I did well," you repeat and he smiles, nodding a bit. "I’m sure you did. Here." He opens his bag, taking out your favorite chocolate bar from it- it had bits of caramelized pistachio and almonds in it. Seungmin doesn’t like it, he prefers plain milk chocolate, as Felix told you one day.

"Eat this, I ended up buying two by mistake, I still have an extra one at the dorm." You grab it from his hands, and he quickly leaves before you could properly thank him.

≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋

You always dread the days you'd wake up with a heavy weight crushing your chest.

You try to distract yourself, try to focus in class and take notes. You try to laugh at Felix's jokes and savor the brownies he just brought you. But you can't. It feels as if you're a cup filled to the brim, each passing second bringing you closer to when that fateful drop would finally make you overflow. And you could do nothing but watch yourself unravel.

Seungmin's eyes never leave you, and it only makes your anxiety spike. It feels as if he's peering inside your soul, witnessing how a cord ties itself around your throat, making it impossible for you to breathe. You can't speak anymore, every word you say threatening to make tears spill out of your eyes. You aren't sure you can make them stop if they ever start falling.

Nothing happened, nothing's happening, you try to remind yourself. But you are scratching your hand incessantly, and you feel an overwhelming need to flee. To run away, somewhere where only you would witness the display of your broken soul. So you sputter a meek excuse, and then you stand up and head to your dorm.

It's raining outside, and you don't have an umbrella. But you are grateful for it, since the rain mingles with your salty tears, shielding them from the curious eyes of the people passing by. You need to get home, you need to hide somewhere and you need to remember how to breathe-

"Yn," a hand grabs your forearm and you startle, instinctively taking two hurried steps back. It's Seungmin. He removed his blue hoodie and he's now placing it over both of your heads.

"What are you doing? You'll get sick," he sounds mad, and you can't take his disappointed tone anymore.

"I'm having a bad day and I don't need you to make it worse," you say, startling yourself with the raw emotion in your voice.

He physically recoils from your words, his arms faltering as he gazes at you, a wounded look in his eyes. "I make your days worse?" he asks quietly and his voice sounds so small, you can't help the regret that courses through you.

"Come on, Seungmin," you chuckle warily, "don't you hate me?"

"No?"

"Hate is a strong word, okay. You dislike me."

"I don't. Why would you think that?"

"Because you never wanted to talk to me, from the moment we met. And it wouldn't matter if you were this way with everyone, but it's only me. And you make me feel so small each time I'm around you," you ramble angrily, as Seungmin's eyes widen with each passing second.

"Yn, yn, I don't- I didn't know you felt this way, but I don't hate you. I truly don't, I promise you," he's panicking, voice growing higher with each word, and you feel a sudden embarrassment flood your being for lashing out at him.

You don't know what to say and he sighs, looking up at the cloudy sky before meeting your eyes once again.

"This is embarrassing, God, um..." he places his hoodie on top of your head before running a hand through his face. "I don't talk to you because you make me nervous." 

"I do?"

"Yes. A lot," he chuckles, a pink hue tinting his cheeks. "I just... I find you very interesting, and funny, and I like watching you, not in a creepy way, my God what am I saying," he whines, hiding his face in his hands and you can't help the giggle that escapes your mouth.

"Don't laugh," he pouts and you nod, willing the smile to disappear from your face. 

"I like watching you exist. Just laugh and smile and talk. You look very pretty doing it. I just don't know how to deal with it. That's on me."

This time the smile is effectively gone from your face. The weight of his confession distracting you from the turmoil of emotions that swirled within you.

"I'm sorry, for making you feel that way. I never meant to. For what it's worth, you make me feel like a small kid again, as if I'm having a crush for the first time." 

A fresh wave of tears brims in your waterline, and Seungmin's eyes soften at the sight.

"Please don't cry," he says, gently wiping the rain droplets from your cheeks. "I don't hate you, I think I like you too much and that's the problem." 

I'm sorry I misjudged you, until you wiped my tears off away

"Okay," you say quietly, your mind not yet registering what he said, too busy focusing on his hands on your face. You can't believe you've ever felt invisible because of Seungmin, when he's looking at you like you're the most precious being in the world. 

"You had a bad day?" he asks, his knuckles brushing against your cheek tenderly, and you nod, silently. 

"Would you like a hug?" he asks, and you nod again. A hug sounded nice. 

He steps forward, wrapping his arms around you. His t-shirt is cold, clinging to his now wet skin. But a surprising warmth emanates from his chest, shielding you from the pouring rain- it travels from his body to yours, as if it's a familiar path, one it underwent a million times before. His hand finds your back, and he pats it gently, following a soothing rythme, one you try to sync your breathing to. "You did well," he whispers, "you always do well," and his words feel like a patch of shade on a scorching day.

You exhale softly, tightening your arms around his waist. You think you can stay here, for a while. You could rest in Seungmin, now and tomorrow, and maybe for the following months. If he still likes you this much. 

Bonus 

"I'm ready," Seungmin says, his soft hair tickling your bare skin. He's laying on top of your stomach, black tie undone, a piece of crumpled paper in his hands. You can tell he's nervous, with the way he looks up at the ceiling, avoiding your gaze. You lean down, pressing a sweet kiss to the top of his head. He closes his eyes, his hold on the yellowed paper slightly faltering.

"I'm all ears," you whisper, and he smiles softly at you, before looking at his written vows- the ones you decided to read to each other after your wedding ceremony, just the two of you, in your personal bubble. It feels much more intimate this way, they are words meant for you only to hear, after all.

"My love," he starts, and he can already feel the tears welling up in his eyes. He blinks repeatedly, in a desperate attempt to keep them at bay. "If I'm reading this it means I finally married you, which is probably the best thing I've ever done in my life." You giggle and he can't help but smile at the sound of your laugh.

"I am writing these vows one year into our relationship, I haven't proposed yet, but I just know you're the one I want to marry. And I suppose I don't want to forget everything I want to say to you, when that day comes." His words make your breath hitch in your throat as realization dawns on you- he wrote this three years ago, and he kept it safe, till this day.

"I still remember when I saw you for the first time. I couldn't talk because you looked so pretty, and you were smiling at Felix and I felt an overwhelming need to be the one you were smiling at. I think you cast a spell on me because I couldn't even ask you about your major back, I couldn't believe how awestruck I was. But you already know this, don't you?" He looks up at you, pressing a quick kiss to your stomach and you smile widely. You still remember when Seungmin recounted the first time you met, from his perspective. Rosy cheeks and fumbling words as he explained how much he felt for you in that instant, and how little he could express it.

"But there are still things I haven't told you," he clears his throat. "Like how Felix told me what horror movie he was planning to watch with you, and I looked it up the night before, to memorize all the jump scares just in case you were afraid. And you were, and I'm glad I did. I don't even like horror movies, but it was worth watching it three times in a row, just for you."

"Also, how I had to run out of my class to yours, so I'd catch you after the end of your presentation. I bought that chocolate only for you. I kept a stack of fifteen bars hidden in my desk, just in case you were feeling down, and you ended up needing it. I kept asking Felix about everything you liked, and disliked, and he was probably sick of me at that time," he chuckles, as memories of begging his roommate for any bit of information about you flooded his mind.

"I don't know how far into the future it'll be when I'll finally read this to you. I don't know how I'll be, or where I'll be, but as long as you're with me then I must be okay. I used to overthink everything, plan every part of my life so it'd run smoothly. That is until you came into my life, so suddenly, and you flipped it upside down. I didn't care to plan my life anymore, all that mattered is that it revolved around you," he pauses, sucking in a deep breath.

"I knew I wanted to marry you when you took me stargazing. You talked about the stars and galaxies so excitedly. And then you brought up Saturn; how it was unique among the planets, adorned with thousands of ringlets. And I remember thinking that you're my saturn, you're the dazzling planet that everyone admires and I'm the ring spinning around you, the one you're keeping afloat. And as long as you're here, I have a purpose and I'm okay. So please..." his voice wavers, as silent tears slip out of his eyes.

"Don't leave me. I know we're married now, but still, don't leave me. I love you. I feel like I've loved you in different lifetimes, in different earths and timelines. Everything can come crashing down around us, but one thing that'll forever remain the same is my love for you. I was made to love you, after all. My eyes were made to look at you, and my hands to graze your cheeks. And my heart... My heart was made to beat for you. And I love you. I feel like I don't say it enough but I truly love you. As long as I'm breathing then I'm yours."

Did you at least kiss, hug, and caressed the brick lovingly before chucking it to my heart?

zombie! sukuna in the apocalypse au | implied f. reader can be read otherwise, no mentioned prns., mentions of blood/violence/cannibalism and other zombie apocalypse things, implied estb. rl ؛ ଓ

you were ready to put a bullet through his head the second he stumbled toward you, blood-matted hair and dried flesh curling at the edges of his mouth. the only reason you didn't—couldn't—was because his eyes still looked like him. 

sukuna’s eyes were sharp, not glassy, not the sunken, hungry blankness you’d seen in every other infected. no, his were locked onto you like he knew you, like he was still in there somewhere, buried under layers of rot and cracked skin.

the safehouse had barely been holding up before he crashed in—wooden panels and metal scrap hastily bolted into place, now splintered and bent from the sheer force of him slamming into it in a frenzy. not to get to you, no. just… because he needed to do something.

rage, starvation, madness—it all seemed to knot in his chest, and instead of lashing out at you, he was slamming fists into the support beams until they groaned. he tore down half a shelf with his bare hands and flung a rusted toolbox through the window, shattering it completely, letting the cold night wind rush in and scatter everything not nailed down.

you were pressed into the corner, heart pounding, eyes darting from the broken wall to him, back and forth, just waiting. but he didn’t lunge at you. didn’t even look at you like food. he just staggered back, huge and twitching and visibly biting down on a guttural growl, until his spine hit the far wall and he slid down to the floor.

you noticed it then—he had chewed through his lower lip, not out of hunger, but restraint. his shoulder was bleeding where his teeth had scraped deep, and one of his hands was locked around the other wrist like he was holding himself back from tearing it off for a snack. it would’ve been grotesque if it wasn’t so… him. dramatic, stubborn, brutal.

he was trying.

and it wasn’t just restraint. when one of the shamblers got too close to your hiding spot earlier in the day, sukuna tore its head off before you even had time to load your gun. his body was fast—too fast for something so dead—and the second it hit the ground, he had backed off again, panting through sharp teeth, hunched and tense like he expected you to run from him too.

you didn’t. not yet, at least.

and now? now he was curled into the wall, massive frame practically shaking with how hard he was holding back. any time you stepped closer, his whole body jolted like he was afraid of himself. like he didn’t trust his mouth, his hands, his hunger.

you saw his eyes flick to you again. still red. still his.

and somehow—despite the decay and the violence and the absolutely terrifying reality that your boyfriend was probably one bad moment away from devouring you whole—you could see it in the way he stared: he wasn’t going to let anything else get to you.

even if it meant eating himself first.

changbin the things u do 😔

CHANGBIN SKZ CODE, EP.45

i miss you; i still do

kazuha x reader angst

a/n: this is based off promise by laufey cause my friend said told me to do it xc (not proofread btww, if there are any misspellings pls tell me :p)

wc: 902

enjoy reading!

italic for flashbacks normal for the present bold for emphasis

- - - -

They said it's easy to move on.

At least that's what I always said to myself after recalling all summer evenings by the shore. We shared our first passionate kiss as well as a night full of bliss and the thrashing waves as our musical background.

At sunset, not many people were hanging around the beach. A girl tugs a boy to the coast of the water "Wait! Don't do that~" He playfully whines as he tries to pull himself away from the calm tides, the sand imprints their puerile acts as they blithely ignore their surroundings.

"Why not?" Giggles erupt from the girl, a sweet melody that strikes a core inside the man's heart. He pulls her close to him, her back hitting his chest as they face the view of the setting sun. She gazes up at his face, realizing that her action caused their faces to be close to kissing. "Your dress is pretty. I don't want you to ruin it." he grins adoringly.

She blinks slowly, feeling her e/c eyes dreamily gape at the pair of red staring right back at her. "M'kay." she breathes, mouth dangerously nearing his. The overbearing weight of the atmosphere dawns upon them, as they shut their eyes, closing the gap between their lips and enjoying the serenity of the moment. Passion clashed at every second as if time had slowed down and everything else was thrown out the window. Just the two of them and the picturesque view of the sun below the horizon, the azure sky mirroring the grandeur of the boundless sea. 

That evening made me realize what we had was more than just a crush, you've bewitched me. 

Your compliments were sweet, but the last time I heard your praise was long ago. Up until now your pretty name— Kazuha, always brings me joy when mentioned. And as our lips met in a final embrace, the passionate fervor had me craving for more. I reached after yours as you leisurely pulled away.

Two friends lost in paradise. Stuck in their little world ensconced under the moon's silvery glow that hangs in the sky while they point to the stars as if they are engaged in a celestial dance. "Kazuha, you told me you know what the wind whispers. Can you tell me what it's saying right now?" a hand ran down through her h/c locks, gently massaging it now and then; it almost lulled the lass to sleep, but eager to hear his reply, she kept her eyes open.

"It's okay." He says with the softest tone while his hand on her hair stops moving and settles on the small of her back. An almost inaudible sound of confusion comes out of her mouth, "What do you mean?"  "Everything will be okay, that's what it said."  A radiant smile makes its way to the girl's face, eyes slightly drooping as her heart beats in trepidation and hope. She gathers her last ball of energy to voice her question, "Will I see you again?"  

The question seemed to hover in the air as if it were a foggy mist, casting an almost tangible wave of anticipation upon the girl as her eyes lingered on their now intertwined fingers, eyes filled with interest and worry. "Don't worry, I'll always be here to see you. A countless times over." 

Was that your way of saying goodbye? You hold me in your arms spouting absolute lies. You treat me like a fool— an idiot to eagerly believe that we have something more and vanish from my life like the swift air as though your lips weren't engraved on mine. As if I was but a memory stored in the recesses of your mind. 

A few weeks before, I passed by the wooded Rosemary Avenue, and the scent of freshly brewed coffee and sweet pastries struck a melancholic memory in my mind. My steps came to a stop when I saw a boy, his cascading platinum-blonde hair that seemed to glow under the night sky, and his figure reminiscent of you.

My lips quiver as recollections of our past swirl back into my mind like a relentless wave. My body froze in place, a slight tremor betraying the rush of nostalgia; unable to summon the boldness to inch myself forward.

So I chose to flee in the opposite direction, all the while pathetically berating myself for not being brave enough to walk up to you and ask what I've always wanted to. So with each step, my heart thuds against my ribcage, threatening to leap out of my chest from how rapidly it's beating.

That day, I made a promise to myself. To forget about you. 

Now I stare at the now spacious gaps of my house after I threw all the things that reminded me of you. The amount of framed photos I had of us that decoratively adorned the walls, the shirt you willingly let me have which once carried your scent, and the beautiful magnets we collected from our trips, how could I avoid the memory of you?

But when I gathered all the boxes, I tried to throw them out, but my heart couldn't. I couldn't.

After 16 days of trying to follow my promise, I broke it. I called you, so now I hope this voicemail gets to you, Kazuha. Cause this is the last time I'll say goodbye to you, I'm sorry, but you won't see me again. 

- - - - woaah that was tuff :)) hope you guys liked it !!

ty for this 😔

I need more of this genre of Minho

Random Minho gifsets [5/∞]

As a student, Y/N had to study hard for her future. She'd take it too far that at some point, she'd forget to reply to Xiao's texts.

On the other hand, Xiao didn't think too much about it. He's had those moments wherein Y/N would work herself off to the point that she'll focus on one thing only, studying.

Xiao:

Hey, are you free?

I was thinking we should hang out for the weekend

Take care.

Read 10:02 AM

Looking up, the weather looked nice. It'd be fitting for a lovely date. That's what Xiao thought, but looking back he thinks that Y/N would definitely turn down that offer.

Y/N:

Sure, I'm feeling burnt out now. I'd definitely be out for food.

Read 11:34 AM

Xiao:

Great, meet you at Heroes Park at 1:00.

For the first time, Luck was on Xiao's side.

-

absolutely sorry for the inactivity, been busy studying lately. Thank you for reading, stay safe !

𝐀𝐔𝐆𝐔𝐒𝐓. | 𝐗𝐈𝐀𝐎

— when your greatest love throws itself at you at a time you’re not meant for it, do you risk it all, or keep your peace?

content/warnings: romance, angst, best friends to lovers, mutual pining, unrequited love (misunderstanding), emotional cheating, has a timeskip, modern au. unedited.

Deep into August, the sun extends its arms over the horizon to caress your bare legs. Your arm is thrown across your face to shield you from the sun, the narrowed eyes contrasting with the equally blinding grin you wore. Toes curled into the sand, you buried yourself deeper into the lap of the person as grim as the dark shades he wore, a handsome frown visible on his agitated face. You couldn’t help but smile wider and reach up to pluck the shades from his nose, appreciating that he accompanied you to the beach despite being uncomfortable with crowds.

“Xiao?”

“What?”

“Am I deep winter or smooth spring?”

Brows furrowing, he licks his lower lip before closing his book, the tip of his index finger squeezed between the pages. Sweat trickled down his skin, sure to have the ink staining his damp fingers until the words slowly tattooed itself onto his skin. Sitting up, you steal his free hand into yours and watch as Xiao’s gaze zeroes on your fingers looping through his, cheeks tinted red either from the heat or your gesture.

“You’re summer August, and I’m deep winter,” he answers vaguely, retracting his hand before shielding his eyes with the shades sat at your lap. “Does that answer your question?”

“It does, but I have another one. Why am I summer August?”

Xiao’s nose scrunched–a rather adorable sight, if you were asked. “You’re warm. If the color yellow or orange became a person, it would’ve been you. Bright. Radiant,” the concentration on his face mirrored the ones he wore when working. You wish he’d relax a little bit on your rare day off’s–the sun is out, children are laughing around, and there’s a nearby shaved ice stand; everything is beautiful in this moment but you can’t find it in yourself to reprimand Xiao’s stoicism.

There’s warmth pooling in his eyes, one you only witness when you’re in his presence.

It makes your heart skip a beat until it comes tumbling down the hill of unrealistic thoughts over the hopeless desire that maybe one day, he’ll like you back.

“Stop looking at me like that.”

Smirking, you wiggle your eyebrows and tease him. “Like what?”

“I don’t know! You look weird, like... like–”

“Like I want to absolutely kiss you right now?” Because you did. His cute little hat sits on top of his head so endearingly that you so badly want to take a picture. You want to stare at him a little longer, admire the redness spreading from his nose to his cheeks, watch the way his lower lip curls into his mouth each time he gets flustered, and burn the image of him at the back of your brain.

Xiao, your best friend since the first August of university, and the man you’ve always foolishly pined for despite his constant rejection.

Still, you trail around him like a lost puppy, ignoring his confused yet shy stares each time you announced your presence, and basically decided that you were now going to be his friend, which is the best decision of your life. Xiao isn’t someone you needed to get out of his shell; you had to learn how to enjoy the silence of his life, and respect it.

It’s entirely contradictory to your summer August bumbling self. You’re clumsy where he is always ready to catch you. He’s firm when you are swaying side to side after enjoying too many mimosas from the beach bar. He’s quiet and forever gentle in tucking you under the covers before pressing a kiss to your forehead, and you think of how his lips are summer August hot when it comes to contact with your skin. You think about the young man who sees himself as deep winter, clad in the knitted sweaters you had given him as a gift walk through your door, and hesitantly looks around as if he hasn’t been here a hundred times before.

Where he is deep winter and stiff as a rock when you dance with him under the Christmas lights, you’re the bonfire easing him to relax his muscles, and just enjoy the beat. “We look silly dancing,” he says, then follows up on how he doesn’t like being less of what he deems proper.

But he dances. He twirls you and smiles whilst you laugh, cuts the cheese and swirls the wine in the glass while you drunkenly send him flying kisses – you’re as passionate as he is emotionally numb, and he is the muted version of all your raging emotions.

Whereas you are the definite yes, he is the hesitant no.

“Xiao.”

“If you’re going to tell me you love me again, thank you. I love you too, but you’ve been babbling it non-stop for the entire night. I think I get your point.”

“Do you?” you giggle, mouth hid behind your hand before you grow more serious, head tilted to the side. “Do you truly? If I said I love you right now, and I’ve always been in love with you, are you still going to reject me?”

Xiao’s frown deepens even more. “There’s nothing to be loved about me.” “There’s plenty.”

“Maybe that’s just you,” he shrugs nonchalantly, “The familiarity of having me around might be confusing you. We’re best friends, but that’s all there is. I don’t really see any logical reason for you to develop such deep, sincere feelings for me when I’m not even an ideal lover, so if I were to reject you, it’s not because I don’t want you. A relationship with me would just ruin our friendship, and...”

“Complicate things?”

“Complicate things, yeah.”

“But would you let me love you?”

He doesn’t respond right away. He mulls over it–you can tell by the slight pinch of his brow, the way his back droops down as he stares at the ground as if to ask himself if he’s even worthy of the affection you badly wanted to give him. The only problem is he doesn’t see this. Not just with you, but with everyone else. Xiao is deep winter; reclusive, cold, unaffectionate. It’s impossible for him to see himself the way you do.

“I think you’re drunk, so I don’t take you seriously,” is his response after several beats, hooking his arms under your armpits to guide you back into your room. “Sleep it out. Then we’ll talk.”

You never have that talk. The unspoken words hang like the mistletoe in the air which Xiao deliberately ignores. Head hung low, lips pursed and pale as if locks held back the truth he wished to convey and begged to set free. But Xiao was the living epitome of self restraint–he quietly slithers next to you in bed instead when he thinks you’re asleep, unaware that you’ve steadied your breathing through the drunken haze–and says nothing else.

No I love you’s like you wish to hear.

But there goes his face slowly moving next to yours, his lips pressed at the top of your hair as his gentle hands reach for the blanket to cover your chest. Arms snaking through your waist to hold you close when close is not close enough, and the space does nothing but grow wider the harder your heart yearns, you begin to close your eyes.

This moment will not last. Moments are called such for they are fleeting and experienced shortly, yet lives on forever in faulty memories that eventually fades away. So you clutch it and engrave it to your bone–the shape of his body next to yours, the foolish hopes tying you to a future where it couldn’t exist–and desperately hope that you get to keep at least this minute where you feel his heart caged with yours.

And when his side of the bed (your bed, truthfully, but he’ll always have a place next to you) grows cold in the middle of the night, and his shoes disappears besides yours on the porch, the true winter begins and August ebbs away.

The ice melts.

Not a peep could be heard in the deep winter. There’s nothing but warmth emanating from the remnants of his vulnerability, which for once, you liked to believe he also feels the same way even when he’s not yours.

You believe people will always have that love which never comes for them no matter how hard you chase for it. You could go to the ends of the earth, bang on someone’s door, go down on your knees and make promises of the happiness you can ensure, but all is useless when the house is empty. There is nobody to open the door. No one to welcome you when you walk through the space, or arms to fall into after a long day. The lavatory would be too spacious for a single person when it could fit two pairs of hips standing next to each other as you brush your teeth together.

But there is Thoma, and the house has never been more brightly lit than you’ve ever seen it. It doesn’t have to be Christmas deep in winter when fairy lights are strewn everywhere, giving a magical aura to an even more stunning home decorated by framed photographs of you and him on walls like you were his proudest memory. And you are.

From the moment you’ve met Thoma, it’s been summer all year throughout. His kisses are heated as they are honey-like. The words he spoke are like poetry blotted in brown paper with the promise of a lip stain on a napkin corner. He is perfect and real, and loves you more than you could ever imagine yourself to be loved, and you are getting married.

Wedding preparations, amidst its chaos and stress inducing events, felt fulfilling. You and Thoma would be occupied day and night planning things to perfection, followed by a kiss on the cheek to reassure you nothing had to be extravagant if you wouldn’t prefer it. You’re already perfect, your fiancé would whisper between exchanged breaths, there’s nothing you need to worry about. But his efforts leave the opposite effect when your fingers land on a certain invitation printed with a name that has been echoing in your head for years.

Cruel as it may be, you begin to wonder if you’ve fully mourned the loss of someone who has never been yours.

“Wow. You’re getting married.”

“Yeah, I am.

Before you, your best friend, Xiao sits. He’s clad in a suit, all firm lines smoothed into perfection with every move of his muscle as he leant back in his seat.

You couldn’t fathom the emotions flittering through his handsome face. A pinch of the brow, his lower lip jutting out, index finger anxiously tapping at the table as if to call your attention to the empty finger just a space beside it. And truly, you’re as cruel as you can be, hiding your uncontrollable smile by ducking your chin at the thought he’s been unmarried this entire time.

“I… I didn’t know you were dating, but congratulations. I’m happy for you.”

“Thank you,” you respond almost robotically, since everyone seems to repeat the same phrase over and over again until it got tiring. “I would really love if you were our best man. Thoma’s best friend, Ayato, was the original best man but I requested if it could be you instead since the maid of honors are already Thoma and Ayato’s friends. It would’ve been nice if I could have you there.”

Xiao offers a tight lipped smile. The years that have passed start to show in his face, yet his beauty only sinks deeper within his bones. Shoulders broad enough with the strength to carry the entire world from it, lips thin and perhaps just as soft as you envision if you’ve only ever kissed it – seeing him again after how long felt surreal. Unfathomable. So much has changed, yet you still stayed the same. Fighting the urge to giggle like a schoolgirl whenever your crush was in your presence, and him being completely oblivious to your affection.

The only difference now is that you’re to be wed, and for the first time ever, Xiao looks mildly displeased at something you say. “Sure, of course. I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

Your gut tells you he doesn’t mean it. Thoma’s face disappears for a moment at the back of your mind, and your belly churns as you lean forward. You shouldn’t be prying into other people’s lives when you’re about to spend your entire one with another. It’s common sense, yet you’ve not always been the brightest when you smile up at him fondly again, heart aching beneath your clothes it became difficult to breathe.

All because your silly heart still longs for the one person you can’t have.

“So how have you been?” is nothing but a silly excuse of tell me everything I missed. Let’s condense the years into this few minutes the universe allows us before the time stops ticking and we need to part our separate ways again. Tell me, from the slightest detail of your most mundane day, and I’ll listen.

“The same as always. I’m doing just fine.”

“Are you happy?”

“I’m content.”

“Those two things are different.”

Xiao shakes his head in amusement; you still haven’t gotten rid of that stubborn head sititng between your shoulders. “Not much has changed about me or my life, Y/N. There’s nothing exciting to tell,” one of his shoulders lift in a shrug before he gestures to you, “You’re getting married, though, and I didn’t hear or see this coming at all. It sounds like you have more stories to tell than I do.”

“I’ve always tried telling you about Thoma, you were just… busy. All the time.”

You were never there, but Thoma was. Resentment and hurt leaves a bitter taste in your tongue that Thoma’s sugary lips could barely coat them between kisses.

“We’re grown adults. We both have jobs. You understand my line of work is demanding and I can’t give you dating advice whenever you need it. Not to mention, I’m not the best to approach for those kinds of things considering my lack of experience.”

“I wasn’t going to ask for that, I just wanted to talk to my best friend.”

Xiao takes a moment to study your face. Pursing his lips, he gives you an apologetic smile. “I’m sorry. I should’ve made more time for you.”

Silence hangs in the air. So much time has been wasted–you’ve graduated university, established your own careers, and have had your fair share of meeting and leaving people who come into your life. Xiao, on the other hand, simply drifted off into thin air. Hanging out at the beach no longer seemed like a possible occurrence when it’s been tradition, and you eventually had to get used to being left on delivered. There’s a magnanimous amount of gaps left in between these spaces, and you want to be greedy. You want him to be in every page you’ve written, every ending you’ve created, if only he was there. But he wasn’t. Thoma was, and he’s colored your canvas in colors you haven’t seen before when your summer August only knew the silence of deep winter.

The what if’s linger deep until it settles onto the blank snow, blanketing you both with the thoughts of what could’ve been if Xiao had only replied to your texts one by one.

Would Thoma have remained in your life? Would you be getting married to someone you never expected to meet? Would you have slowly forgotten what the beach looked like since there’s no point digging your feet in the sand when you didn’t have Xiao who constantly nagged you to stay still?

All these rhetorical questions, and Xiao still manages to take you aback when he chuckles to himself, the sound dry and exhausted. The shoulders who carried the weight of the world sags in defeat. “You know, it’s funny. I always imagined I’d be marrying you.”

The world crashes. The café you met up in goes silent, the people moving about rooting frozen from their spots yet your tea goes cold from the forever of beats that passed between words.

“What?”

“I remember you were always teasing me when we were younger. I thought it was cute, and I often dreamed that we’d end up together, but now you’re getting married and it’s far from everything I expected,” glancing at your engagement ring and the invitation letter sitting hauntingly between you, Xiao falters in his words. “But… I am happy for you. I can’t be happier now that I know you’re with a good man.”

“What… how… how can you say that, Xiao? Do you really have no idea how much I love you?”

“What do you mean?” he laughs nervously, “You were messing around back then.”

“I wasn’t. I meant every word I said.”

Shrugging, he looks down at his coffee with a frown so forlorn he embodies deep winter with not a warm body around to keep him company. “None of it matters now, does it? You are to be married, and I’ll go back to living my life once this all passes.”

“Passes? You think everything is that easy?”

“I don’t know what you want me to do, Y/N. Our feelings are exactly just that; feelings. They’ll come and go,” Xiao reassures, but it sounds like he’s trying to convince himself more than you. “You’re about to be married, and I want nothing but for you to be happy. Thoma is the kindest man you’ll ever meet so you’ll live a great life. You don’t need to look at me like that–you haven’t lost a thing.”

You haven’t lost a thing.

Not at all. How could you ever lose something you were never quite certain was yours to begin with? But now, it rested at the palm of your hands. Curled up like an innocent creature soaking up the warmth of your fingers until you’d been bled dry and iced to the bone, the rhythm of your heart bringing back to life what had never been dead, rather frozen in time.

“If it’s meant to pass, then why have I been in love with you for as long as I can remember?”

“Hey, welcome home!” Thoma greets the moment you enter your shared apartment, helping you get rid of your boots and hang your coat while you stare at the ground numbly. “How was your meeting with your friend? Did everything go well? Come tell me all about it through dinner–I made your favorite.”

You lean against the wall for support.

Your life is perfect. Every sane person would die for what you have: a loving, handsome fiancé who comes home early everyday to cook the food he knows you like, a cozy place to spend forever in, the scent of almond tofu screaming home and comfort. And then there’s Thoma, eagerly setting up the table and taking a chair for you when he notices you standing idly by the doorway, his smile creasing into worry as you swallow audibly.

He could tell from just one look of your face that tonight isn’t as good as he hoped. “Thoma…”

He’s beside you in the blink of an eye. Wrapping you in his strong arms, your fiancé rubs his hand up and down your back, easing you as the tears release like a broken damn. “Oh, darling, what’s wrong?”

“Thoma, there’s something I need to tell you,” you pull back, using the hem of your sleeves to wipe away the tears. He’s so beautiful, so kind that you couldn’t have possibly have the heart to hurt him. But your heart belongs to someone else, and you can’t lie to an honest man. He deserves the truth and the truth you tell, nails digging at your thighs as each word that comes out of your mouth drives a knife deeper into his soul. You tell him how you’ve never moved on from a summer love, from an eternal longing, to this craving of a person who left a hole in your heart in which only they could fill.

And you can’t do anything except let Thoma take a step back from you, furiously blinking back the tears that threatened to push through. “I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry.”

Thoma sniffles. “Hey,” he tilts your chin up, warm eyes glistening.

The sight of him, so forgiving even without his words, still so gentle in the way he caresses your cheeks like you hadn’t just stomped on his heart a thousand times nearly made you question if you’re doing the right thing. You wait for it, the hesitance, the slight skip of your heart signaling when a bad decision was to be made, yet there’s none. Nothing but silence lingers at the back of your mind now that Xiao’s face lingers as it has been since the day you learn to love a little more and hope a little less.

“I’ve always known.”

“What…?”

“At the back of my mind, I always knew there must be someone else. You always felt so… distant. You didn’t quite see me in the times you looked at me, and I wondered if you were imagining someone else before you. I won’t deny that I’m hurt and it would take me a while to recover, but you’ve seen me, Y/N,” delicately, he slips off the ring off his fingers and tucks it into your palm, hidden and stored away for eternity like a promise meant to be broken. “This is the first time you’ve let me meet you as you are. So go to him; I won’t hold you back.”

Bringing your fist to your lips, you attempt to muffle your sobs. “I-if you knew the whole time, why did you p-propose to me?”

Thoma smiles, his eyes crinkling. “I love you, and I hoped you felt the same.” “But what about us?”

“Don’t worry about that anymore,” he rises to his feet, his car keys spinning around his finger as he turns to you with a bright, wistful grin. “What are you waiting for? Let’s go find your best friend.”

He doesn’t need to say more before you’re reaching for his outstretched hand, the gesture as familiar as breathing and your hand fitting perfectly with Thoma’s. You hold on extra tight when you beam up at him, both from disappointment and excitement, the both of you aware this is going to be the last time you’d ever hold each other this close. So you hold onto him for dear life as he opens the car door for you, revs the engine like you’re running out of time and perhaps you are, because Xiao always seems to be slipping through your fingertips and you’re not deep August under the blazing heat of the sun anymore.

It’s deep winter. The snow is getting thicker with each passing minute, the road covered in white until the snow begins to flake in your lashes when you step out the car.

Xiao lingers outside his apartment, his breath coming out in small, heated puffs with his brows knitted in thought. When he hears the crunching of your boots, his head spins to your direction, eyes wide at the breathless figure of you. “You,” he breathes out, blinking aghast as Thoma leans over the car door with a supportive smile. He pieces two and two together, and laughs in disbelief. “You’re insane–”

“Xiao, I’m in love with you. I always have been, but now I don’t want to let you go now that I know what you feel. You… you’re all I ever wanted. I couldn’t possibly imagine what my life would be like without you.”

His lips thin. It’s enough to make your heart lose hope again–you’ve seen this scenario happen to you before, how he shuts himself off the world after convincing himself he’s not worth the affection and love people give him. He calls himself names, degrades himself into a smaller, lesser being who’d be best off alone before people realize he’s not as great as people make it out to be. The solace of never seeing people frown at him has been the only way he’s ever known life, but you ever so lovingly smiling up at him since the day you met makes him feel this is a risk he can take.

Maybe now, it’s time to let his walls crumble and let the ice thaw, to let deep August bring warmth to his life.

Studying your ring-free finger, Xiao lets his shoulders drop before crushing you into an embrace. “You’re too damn stubborn, you know that?” he rasps into your ear, and you wrap your arms around him, the biting cold making it painful to cry–the world’s own way of telling you there should be no gloom on the day you’ve always been waiting for. “You forced your way into my heart and I don’t think I can ever close it for you again.”

“Don’t you dare,” you sniffle into his shoulders, “I’m staying with you until you don’t want me anymore.”

Xiao knows he’s never said it before. Every night, he tosses and turns in his sleep, replaying the memories of his youth where he rejects your not-so subtle confessions of love. Even as he grows older and his eyes grow more weary, there’s still that young man inside of him hoping it’s real. He runs away and hides in little corners in hopes he’d get you off his mind. Too afraid of the hurt love might bring, and this is the first time he can confidently say, “I’m not going anywhere. I stay right where you are.”

im cdyibg

home

pairing : minho x gn!reader

summary : minho had waited in front of the entrance of the forest for you until the sky darkened, his eyes welling up with tears as he came to accept that you had forgotten about him that day. maybe you needed to go home that day and forgot to tell him before school, he thought. although, he realized something far greater than that had happened as he arrived at the front of your house, the for sale sign standing in the yard without a trace of human presence in the home.

wc : 3.8k

cw : childhood friends, arguing, angst, sadness, mentions of bullying + racism/xenophobia, mentions of alcohol, idk what else

a/n : tried a new writing styles, lmk what you think!!! also pls let me know if you guys are interested in a part 2 :3 this fic is very much inspired by the movie past lives heheheh

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈• ｡ﾟ

The low buzzing of mosquitoes filled your ears while you wandered down the dirt trail with trepidation as the vast forest surrounded you the deeper you ventured in. Tufts of grass tickled your ankles as your clammy hands clenched your best friend’s, who had dragged you out against your will, insisting it would be a fun adventure to test your bravery. 

Every now and then, he’d look back and shoot you a wide, childish grin, a gap taking the place of the front tooth he had just lost last week. “C’mon, Y/N! Walk faster!” 

You nodded meekly at your friend, admiring how he fearlessly marched forward, while you anxiously trudged behind him, biting your lip to release some of the tension in your body. Every rustle of leaves or snap of a twig would cause you to jump, afraid that something would jump out at you in the next second, but Minho’s gentle grasp would always bring you back down with a reassuring squeeze, reminding you that you were not alone as you hiked into the unknown. You weren’t sure where you were heading, neither did you know if the seven year old boy ahead of you knew, but his presence was enough to ease you, trusting that everything would be okay as long as he was there.

“It’s okay, Y/N, we’re almost there! You’re going to love it.”

Although only ten minutes had passed, it felt as if this journey was lasting for an excruciating amount of hours as anxiety loomed over you. All you could see was the different hues of green leaves enveloping you, the site of the park you had come from no longer in view as the forest swallowed you whole, only bits of the sunlight made its way through the dense leaves above you, coloring the dirt path with shadows and lights. You looked above, hoping to find the comforting blue sky looking down on you, but not even the heavens were there to accompany you on this trek. It was just you, Minho, and the eerily quietness of the woods.

You decided to put your blinded trust in Minho, shutting your eyes closed as the daunting feeling of claustrophobia began to bubble up your stomach, not daring to take in any more of your surroundings. Suddenly, Minho had come to a stop, causing you to collide into his back as you slowly opened your eyes, unsure what you’d be met with. 

“We’re here,” Minho whispered to you breathlessly from all the walking, turning his head to look over his shoulder, “Look, I found it the other day, it reminded me of you.”

You reluctantly peeked your head out from behind him, a small and excited gasp escaping your lips as you marveled at the sight before you. It was like a photo from one of your nature books had come to life before your eyes. There laid a pond with clear waters and lily pads floating atop of it, soft ripples forming in the water as tadpoles swam just beneath the surface. Just to the right of the pond was the faintest stream of water cascading into the pond, bubbles forming where the brook met the pond as the light trickles of it accompanied the low hum of the forest. 

You had forgotten you weren’t alone as Minho’s giggles brought you out your trance, his eyes beaming with affection as he watched your frightful expression turn into one of amazement and discovery. 

“See, I knew you’d like it. Sometimes you need to pass a test of bravery to get something cool at the end.”

For a seven year old, Minho often said profound things as if he had lived a life full of experiences, things only an adult from a movie or book would say, but in his own childlike vocabulary. You didn’t always quite understand what he meant, but always kept those small tidbits of profundity with you, hoping one day you’d grow to learn the meaning behind his words.

“But jeez, you’re such a scaredy cat. You should’ve seen the look on your face,” he teased as he now faced you, a hand pinching one of your cheeks.

And sometimes, he would just be like any other kid who was messing with his friends, saying something outrageous and nonsensical the next second. He was a strange kid, but you had grown to adore his unpredictability throughout the years of your friendship. You rolled your eyes playfully at his remarks, knowing he meant well, “So what if I was scared?”

“I think it’s cute when you’re scared. You always hold my hand when you are.”

Your face grew warm at his comment, an innocent smile gracing his features as he looked off to the pond. You pouted as butterflies fluttered into your stomach, making their presence known for the umpteenth time today, “Whatever…”

You returned your attention to the pond, walking to its edge as you squatted down with an arm and head resting on your knees as the other reached down to touch the cool water. Your fingers dipped beneath the surface and waved underneath, hoping you’d catch the attention of the tadpoles, but instead the sudden movement shooed them away. 

“Minho?”

“Hmm?”

“How did you find this?”

The boy stood in his place from earlier, opting to admire the scene from afar, “Well, I went out exploring with my dad the other day and it was just here. I learned the path back to show you. Do you like it?”

“It’s so pretty. Can we come here again?”

“Of course.”

Since that day, it had become a small ritual between the two of you, stopping by nearly everyday after school to spend time by the small pond as you slowly learned to appreciate the peaceful quietude of the wilderness. On the days your mother would tell you she needed you home after school, you’d always approach Minho with big, teary eyes and trembling lips, disappointed that you’d have to miss out on a time you had cherished so much with him. And every single time, Minho would pull you into his embrace, place a small kiss on your head, (a gesture he had learned from his own mother), and reassure you, promising that you both would go the next day.

This routine had lasted for a bit over a year, until one day your parents sat you down and told you that the family was moving away to the United States later that month. You had known this was going to happen eventually, as your parents mentioned this in passing to you over the last few months as they prepared for the move, but your child brain couldn’t comprehend the passage of time and just how fast this had all come.  You immediately broke down into tears, begging your parents to let you stay, not wanting to leave all your friends behind so soon, not ready to confront the uncertainty this new country had. You were scared, terrified for what this had all meant, and the worse part of it all was that you wouldn’t have Minho holding your hand through it all this time. He was staying behind, you were leaving him.

Days had gone by as the day you were moving had come close, and you still hadn’t told Minho that you were moving. You didn’t know how to, you were afraid he would cry or be angry at you, so eventually, weeks had gone by without you saying a word. 

Then, you left without a word, never telling your best friend you were leaving and never giving him the chance to send him off with a proper goodbye. 

Minho had waited in front of the entrance of the forest for you until the sky darkened, his eyes welling up with tears as he came to accept that you had forgotten about him that day. Maybe you needed to go home that day and forgot to tell him before school, he thought. Although, he realized something far greater than that had happened as he arrived at the front of your house, the for sale sign standing in the yard without a trace of human presence in the home.

Panic settled into his body as he sped his way home, not being able to understand what was going on as he rushed to his mother, tears falling down his face as he screamed that something happened to you and your family, how you never showed up to the pond that day.

His mother leaned down as she pulled him into a tight hug, a comforting hand rubbing his back in an attempt to soothe him, “Oh, sweetie, didn’t Y/N tell you?” 

Minho looked up at his mother, his face reddening as he continued to sob, a confused look on his face as he shook his head no. His mother cooed at him with a saddened look, pressing a kiss on his forehead, “I’m sorry, sweetie. I thought they did. Their dad got a job in America, so their family is moving there.”

Minho stood there in shock, sniffling as he croaked another sob, “What? Does this mean they’re gone? They’re never coming back?”

“No, baby, they’ll come back eventually. I don’t know when, but they will.”

You had abandoned Minho with no warning, consequently breaking his heart as he mourned the loss of his best friend.

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈• ｡ﾟ

While your parents kept in contact with one another, Minho refused to ever speak to you over the phone whenever he had the chance, as the love and adoration he once had for you festered into anger and resentment for leaving him without warning. 

It hurt you every time you asked over the phone if Minho could talk, and all you would hear was a loud, upset no from the background after his mother would ask. Your eyes would water up each time, his mother apologizing for him and saying he would soon get over his feelings. 

You hated living in the United States. It was an entirely different culture you were not prepared for as you struggled to communicate with other kids your age, unable to make friends due to the apparent language barrier. Everyday after school, you’d come home in a flood of tears, exhausted and upset at how difficult everything was.

You couldn’t understand your teachers and lessons, always performing poorly even though you knew you could do well. You couldn’t make friends, always being made fun of by other kids due to your accent and jokes constantly flew over your head. Everything about you had become a weapon everyone else had used against you, and the parts of you you once loved and once were proud of became something you rejected, something you felt ashamed of. Back home, you were so smart and witty, always the center of attention, yet here, you were just a stupid kid who didn’t fit in.

You missed Minho so much, wishing he was here with you to help you fight through it all with your hand in his. If he was there, he would’ve told off all the kids for you. He was much braver than you ever were, and you needed him there. Although, as time ran its course, you eventually gave up on the idea of ever reconciling with Minho and thought he would reach out to you whenever he was ready.

Except that day never came, and he had long become a memory of a past life you no longer knew. 

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈• ｡ﾟ

Years have gone by since you left your home country and all you had left of it was the faint outlines of memories that faded away with age, much like how pencil marks slowly disappear from paper as time wears it down. Well into your adult years now, you have grown accustomed to life in the United States and have eventually learned the language, made friends, and even lost touch with roots as many immigrant children do. Although, as you grew older, you began to yearn for the country you once called home and remember where you had come from, feeling ashamed that you had neglected such a crucial part of your identity for so long. 

Today, for the first time in years, you and your parents returned to your home country as a small celebration for your college graduation, deciding it was appropriate to revisit your childhood before embarking on your journey as an adult. You already had a job lined up once you returned to the states, so you were going to take advantage of the limited time you had here.

Much like you, everything here has changed through the passage of time, yet the familiar comfort of home remains as your eyes scan over each detail through the car window. Even the humid air smelled the same, your face smiling as memories slowly crept their way into your mind. As the car drove you to your aunt’s house, you were catching glimpses of the past as convenience stores, parks, and even your old school greeted you, still looking the exact same as you remembered, but just a little dulled down as the years weathered on them.

The car came to a halt at the front of your aunt’s home, your parents and you taking your luggage from the trunk as you bid the driver a goodbye. As you were approaching the front door steps, your aunt came bursting out with an excited gasp, tears filling her eyes as she pulled you into a familiar embrace, “Oh, Y/N! Look at you! You’re all grown up now!”

She pulls away as her hands rest over your shoulders as she takes a moment to beam at your face, taking in every detail she had missed over the years, “My, aren’t you adorable too! I’ve missed you all so much,” she laughed cheerfully as she then went over to greet your parents in the same fashion. 

“I missed you too, auntie,” you breathed out a content chuckle as you enter her home, admiring how it still looked the same way you remembered it, just a bit more modernized.

After settling down in the guest rooms, your family sat with your aunt to eat a dinner she had prepared for you all, even going as far as making some of your childhood favorites. Each bite sent shivers down your spine as your eyes rolled back with nostalgia rushing over you, reminiscing all the times you spent as a child eating each of these dishes at the very table you were sitting at.

“Wow, this is all so good,” you mumble after taking a huge bite of meat, letting out a pleasured hum as you chew.

“Y/N, honey, please don’t talk with your mouth full,” your father scolds, shooting an apologetic and embarrassed look to his sister.

Your aunt let out a belly laugh as she waves you dad off, “Nonsense! Let them enjoy their food. I am just glad you have you guys back.”

Your mother smiles at her comment, nodding her head in agreement, “Us too, it’s good to be back, even for a bit. Thank you for having us.”

“Oh, of course. How could I ever say no to my brother?” smiles your aunt, before turning to you, “Is there anything special you wanted to do while you were here? Do you have anything planned?”

You shake your head, “No, not really. Just kinda wanted to spend time with family for the most part.”

“Oh, what about Minho? I know you two were close as kids. Are you going to see him? He still lives here.”

Your heart stops for a moment as your brain recalls your old best friend, a name that hadn’t crossed your mind in years as fragments of your memories began to resurface, ones that you didn’t even know you have. “Wow, I forgot about him, honestly.”

Your mom gives you a comforting smile, noticing a slight sadness in your eyes, “Well, I think it wouldn’t be a bad idea to catch up with him, no? Aren’t you curious to know what he has been up to all these years?”

You nod, feeling uneasy at the thought of coming face to face with your former friend after the stunt your younger self pulled on him, “Ah, maybe. We’ll see.”

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈• ｡ﾟ

You had spent the last few days catching up with your cousins, letting them take you out wherever they thought you had to see and show you what you’ve been missing. Unfortunately for you, that meant you were dragged off to a night of drinking and while you had fun with lots of laughs, you were beginning to regret all the alcohol you had ingested the night before as you woke up with a pounding headache. 

Since the day your aunt mentioned Minho over dinner, you couldn’t help but wonder what he had been up to nowadays, what he looked like, if he had changed much, your heart yearning for the boy you once loved as a child. While you could’ve easily asked any of your family members where to find him, you were also dreading having to face after so long. What if he was still mad at you? What if he was disappointed in who you’ve become? What if he had become an insufferable asshole over the years? 

The insurmountable what-if’s were too much for you to bear, choosing it was best to avoid the subject much as you both have all these years. Yet, you couldn’t ignore the pang in your heart as you looked through your old memories of him, part of you wishing to relive that childlike innocence you lost when you moved away.

That’s when you remembered the old pond Minho and you once frequented as children and thought maybe this was the respite you needed for not only your hurt soul, but your hangover too. Maybe you needed the peace and tranquility of mother nature today.

You felt your heart swell with anxiety as you approached the start of the trail you had become so acquainted with, noticing the same trees decorating the entrance, the only difference was their thickened trunks and roots that had overgrown onto the poorly maintained path. 

You begin to make the trek into the forest, enjoying the gentle zephyr that kisses your skin, inviting you back into your old safe haven as if it recognizes you. The familiar buzzing of mosquitoes greets your ears, along with the songs of birds filling the rest of the space.

A gentle smile melts onto your face as you arrive at the same pond that somehow remains unchanged over the years, just like how you remembered it all those years ago. It was as if you were going back in time as you took in your surroundings, your mind replaying memories of the days you and Minho spent here as children, recalling the first time he had forced you out here and how glad you were that he did.

There are still tadpoles swimming in the water, your smile widening as you realize the frogs are still laying eggs here, even after all these years. You feel at home again seeing how this was like your own little time capsule, a feeling of safety and comfort taking over you, one you hadn’t felt in years. You don’t know how much had passed, but the sound of crunching leaves and twigs startled you from your daze, visibly jumping in place as you turned to see the source of the sound.

Behind you was a man about your age standing there, surprise and confusion painting his face, scanning you from head to toe while analyzing your features. Your face mirrors the same expression he wore as you took him in, your eyes widening as you recognize the man standing before you as none other than your childhood best friend, Minho. 

Somehow, he still looks like the boy you once knew, the only difference being that he grew into his feature with a more matured air around him, his eyes tired from god knows what.

“Y/N…?” he spoke with disbelief, not entirely believing the sight before his eyes.

“Minho?”

For a moment, both of you could only stare at each other, unsure how to react or what to say in the moment, as it felt like you both had just seen a ghost appear in front of you. Your mouth dries as you search for the right words, resisting the overwhelming urge to just jump into his arms and cry out a mess of an apology between tears.

“You’re… here? You’re back?” he questions with a gleam of hope in his eyes, all the memories of his youth flooding back in as his heart swelled with joy, the bitter resentment he had held for so long disappearing for a moment.

“Just for a bit,” you whisper nervously, “I’m just visiting with family.”

The soft smile on Minho’s face began to drop as disappointment colored his face, the hurt he felt all those years ago as a child bubbling back up in his tummy, leaving a bitter taste in his mouth while feeling foolish to think you had moved back home. 

“I… Y/N, why didn’t you tell me you were leaving?”

You felt your heart contort from guilt and agony as you watched Minho’s smile dissipate, his eyes now shining as they watered while recalling the painful memory of the day you left.

“Minho, I’m sorry, I really am. I tried to apologize to you after, but you never wanted to talk after.”

“I waited for you that day. I waited for you to come here, but you never showed up. I went all the way to your house and saw it was empty. My mom had to tell me,” you were wishing the world would swallow you whole as tears streamed down your face, “Y/N, did you not want to say goodbye? Did you not even miss me?”

“Of course I missed you, Minho. I wanted to stay here with you, but telling you I was moving was scary and I didn’t know how.”

His eyebrows furrow at your words, his lips trembling as he tried to hold back a cry as he croaked out with a mixture of sadness and anger, “You left me, Y/N. It wasn’t fair, you don’t know how much I cried for you. Did you even care about how I felt?”

“Minho, I know what I did hurt you and I regret it so much, you meant so much to me, but I was just a kid. I didn’t know any better.”

Minho focuses his gaze to the ground as tear drops roll off his face, the fabric of his shirt darkening as they make their landing, shaking his head side to side, he whispers, “You know, I was a kid too.”

With that, he looks at your face with a hurt expression one last time, turning his back towards you as he walks away, not failing to leave you with a gut-wrenching thought, “Maybe you shouldn’t have come back.”

This wasn't the hangover cure you came looking for.

Hiromi Higuruma is lying on the couch, face half-buried in a pillow, suit rumpled and tie half-undone at his throat. His hair sticks up in odd places where he’s run his hands through it all day.

A finger of whisky sits abandoned in a glass on the coffee table, the few sips he’d managed to savor making a reappearance as spots of color on his high cheekbones.

“Too far away,” he mumbles.

“Hmm?”

“You’re too far away.” He flops one big hand off the couch in a half-assed “come here”. And you do, smiling to yourself as you squeeze in next to his sprawled body.

He immediately wraps his arms around you, the scent of tobacco and faint cologne shadowing his embrace. His hands splay over your back, pressing you closer.

“You’re so clingy when you’re sleepy, Hiromi,” you tease.

“Hmph no I’m not,” he yawns, entirely unconvincing. “And I’m not sleepy, either.”

“Right. Not at all,” You laugh as you snuggle into his warmth. “That’s not gonna hold up in court.”

Your terrible joke is rewarded with a low groan, and Hiromi buries his face in your neck. “That never gets old, huh?”

“Nope,” you grin.

His grumble is muffled, his stubble scratching against your skin. “You’re lucky you’re cute.”

“I know.” He presses a drowsy kiss to your jaw, his sharp nose nudging along your cheek. You wind your fingers in his hair, massaging his temples and smoothing out the ever-present furrows on his brow.

“Mmm that’ll really make me fall asleep, love,” he warns, his eyelids heavy as he blinks up at you.

“That’s okay. We’ve got nowhere to be and nothing to do.”

“Goddamn. That may be the sexiest thing you’ve ever said.” He squeezes your ass in one big palm and shifts so that you’re cradled in his arms.

He breathes in the comforting scent of your shampoo, and you feel his body relax beneath yours. The slow, steady beat of his heart lulls you until you’re both fast asleep.

I've rejected affection for years and years 

 "Come now, Just one hug from me? I'm your boyfriend and all." Childe frowns when you answer 'no.' and keeps writing things in a certain notebook. He still kept trying though. However, you always rejected. 

Still, everyday he'll shower you with gifts and never ending compliments. Even when you tell him to go away, he kept insisting. 

Now I have it, and damn it. It's kind of weird. 

 "Pleaseee??" He begs. "Not even a kiss?"

".. Fine." You swore you've never seen someone jump up in excitement and lunged towards you, pressing soft kisses all over your face. Your face was red and kept yelling at him to stop, even though you haven't noticed you were enjoying his affection. 

 He tells me I'm pretty, don't know how to respond.

  "You're so beautiful, you know that?" He said while looking up to the stars. Tonight was a meteor shower and both of you went outside to glance up at the sky. His smile never disappeared from his face, you thought it was adorable.

I tell him that he's pretty too, can I say that? Don't have a clue. 

"You are too." You mindlessly muttered out. Yet he still heard your words. Your eyes automatically looked at him, and he was smiling at you. "You mean that?" He asks. You nod in response, watching his smile grow bigger and before you knew it he hugs you, tighter than before. This time, you weren't pushing him away.

Part 2