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derinxfam · 1 year

Note

Can you do post argument skz? Like what would they do, how would they feel, etc…

˗ˏˋ pairing: ot8 x gn!reader

˗ˏˋword count: 0.9k

˗ˏˋ tags: angst, but a happy endings (ish), not proof read

a/n: this is so dramatic and for what ?? i'm not really an angst writer, but i really liked writing this <3 i hope you like it too !!

don't repost. don't translate. minors and ageless blogs dni!

Bang Chan

Chan would hate that he lost his temper and raised his voice at you. He would give you space until you felt comfortable around him again and only come up to you if you allowed him to. He would apologise over and over again, until the tears started forming in his eyes. Just begging you to forgive him, no matter how serious the argument was. And if you allowed him to, Chan would hug you tight; just so you would feel all of the love he has for you in this touch.

Lee Know

Minho would be snarky during arguments. His words would hit where it hurt and he would know, but it would already be too late. He would regret the words as soon as they leave his mouth; as soon as he sees the tears forming in your eyes. Minho would pull you into his arms right then and there. He would kiss your forehead and apologise for as long as he needed you to hear. A promise of him loving you over and over again, and he would not let go.

Seo Changbin

Changbin would be almost nonchalant when you guys were arguing. He would never raise his voice at you, he would barely even know what you were upset about. It was frustrating to you and you stopped trying to communicate with him. After you leave him all by himself, Changbin would start to think about the fight to understand why you were upset. He would give you time to cool down, too, before he starts calling you to apologise. Changbin would invite you back over to his after, telling you to come back home, just so you would be able to talk about everything calmly again, but he would pay you all of his attention this time.

Hwang Hyunjin

Hyunjin would not be much of a fighter. He would be snarky, but it would only be to cover how insecure he was. He would think about what to do and what to say, and it would turn into evil comments he was not even aware of until he said them. Hyunjin would hate being mean and he would start crying midargument just to apologise. He would tell you right away how much he hated fighting with you and already beg you not to break up with him over whatever you were fighting about in the first place. You would have to pull him into a hug right after, just to let him know that everything was fine between the both of you.

Han Jisung

One of the reasons why you were fighting with Jisung was because of his insecurities. Even though he has a better understanding of his own emotions now than he used to, he cannot help himself but fall back into the pattern of hitting you where it hurts whenever he feels like the entire world is against him. In this case, you were his entire world. He would be shocked at himself for what he said and look at you with big, teary eyes, apologising right away. He would almost sob while apologising, not even daring to reach out to you because he would think that he does not deserve your touch anymore. When you pull him into a hug, he breaks.

Lee Felix

Felix hates fighting, especially with you. He would try to avoid arguments as best as he can, but even he has his weak moments. When he snaps, it hits hard. He would slightly raise his voice at you, just to stop the argument right then and there. Felix would leave you standing there, telling you that he needs a second by himself, that he will be back, and that he loves you. Comes back with flowers and your favourite sweets, just to pull you into a hug and kiss you over and over again, apologising with every touch of his lips against your skin.

Kim Seungmin

Fights with Seungmin were almost comical. He would mock you if you insulted him, not even quite realising how much of an impact his words have. He would barely take you seriously and just fire back. It would get more heated with every word, until you started crying. He would immediately go up to you and carefully open his arms, just inviting you in. Usually, Seungmin would pull you into his chest if you were hurting, but he would not quite know what to do when he is the reason for it. If you accept his hug, he would pull you tight, and keep you against him for as long as you allowed him to.

Yang Jeongin

Jeongin does not fight with you. At least he tries. Every time he senses an argument brewing, he would just leave the room you were in to avoid talking about it. He would pretend that he did not hear you, pretend that he had other things to do. It would be almost childish in a way. It would take you almost raising your voice at him for him to understand what you were even trying to discuss in the first place. And if you did, he would start getting teary eyes only a few seconds in. Because you were his everything and how could he ever make you upset, even if it was not on purpose?

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derinxfam · 1 year

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230408 Music Bank in Paris ©️ 화야

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derinxfam · 2 years

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‘On Track’ Minho is something that can be so damn personal!!

Random Minho gifsets (20/?)

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derinxfam · 2 years

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ok so maybe… enemies to lovers (kind of) with switch!minho who happens to have accidentally taken some sort of aphrodisiac and reader offers to help him out?

º.☆・ ⇢ goddess of lust with minho

pairing: switch!minho x afab!reader genre: smut, enemies to lovers. word count: 3k minors dni, 18+ only.

aphrodisiacs are agents that are held to arouse desire. the word originates from aphrodite, the ancient greek goddess of love, lust, beauty, pleasure, passion, and procreation.

“So each of these does something different?” Minho says, picking up and dropping the various crystals and gems your friend had perfectly arranged across her dresser.

“Mm, that one ignites passion and desire,” she says, watching him play with her possessions.

He juggles the crystal between his hands, throwing it back and forth like a baseball. “So... like an aphrodisiac?” he says, a smirk pulling one corner of his mouth up.

“I mean, kind of.”

He looks up at the ceiling, closing his eyes in mock concentration. Then he looks at you, meeting your eyes directly. “I feel it.”

“Really?” your innocent friend asks, unaware of Minho’s nature.

“He’s messing with you,” you say, breaking eye contact with the irritating man across the room. “Ignore him.”

You turn your back on him, guiding your friend out of the room and back to the rest of your groupmates downstairs. You’d been paired for a group project, Minho a late—and frustrating—addition. Progress had stalled since he’d joined, two of the girls in the group sidetracked by his pretty face and sweet tones. This was the third time today you’d had to track him—and his victim—down and guide them back to the living room.

Minho grabs your wrist, halting you as your friend continues back down the stairs. “You don’t believe in magic crystals?” he whispers in your ear. You pull your wrist from him, turning to face him on the stairs. He’s a step above you, towering down over you.

“Stop dragging them off, we’ll never get anything done,” you say, ignoring his question.

He waves a crystal in front of your face. “This makes people horny apparently, you wanna hold it?”

You frown. “Put that back.”

“Come on, hold it—just for a second. Then I’ll behave.”

You look between his eyes then sigh, holding your hand out. He presses the small crystal into your palm, his skin brushing against yours a second too long.

“Okay, it’s been a second,” you say, attempting to push past him to return it to your friend's bedroom. He lets you pass after a moment's resistance, following closely behind you. You place the crystal gently amongst the others, turning to find Minho leaning against the doorframe.

“Didn’t feel anything then?”

“You expected me to touch the rock and then want to shove you into the wall, consumed with lust?”

He smiles. “Something like that.”

“It’d take a lot more than a magic rock to tempt me to touch you.”

He takes a step into the room, arms dropping from where he held them cross against his chest. “Yeah? What would it take?”

“A lot of cash.”

He looks like a cat with a trapped mouse, inching closer. “Enough for a car? To pay for uni?”

“Enough that I wouldn’t have to work ever again.”

He’s in your face now, breath mingling. “That’s a big pile of cash.”

“You’re a big pain in my ass.”

He reaches over to pick up the crystal again, inspecting it for a second. “I think there might be something to these things.”

“No you don’t.”

“Why else would I be imagining what you look like under that little dress?”

You scoff. “Because you’re a perv. You had another girl in this room 2 minutes ago.”

“But it’s making me want you.”

“And the thought that you might be attracted to me is so unbelievable that you’ve decided to believe in magic crystals?”

He grins. “Yeah.” He shoves the small rock in his pocket.

“You’re stealing that?”

“Borrowing.”

You push past him, finally heading downstairs to rejoin the rest of the group. He keeps his promise, behaving long enough everyone is able to actually get some work done.

Your friend shouts in your ear, her voice almost totally drowned out by the loud music. She needs to pee. You take her hand, guiding her up to the bathroom—pushing through your drunk classmates as you go.

You’re leaning against the hallway door waiting for her to finish, when Minho appears—a drink in his hand. “Thought I saw you here,” he says, joining you against the wall.

You ignore him.

You see him turn towards you out of the corner of your eye, his gaze trailing up and down your body. “Another little dress? Do you wear anything else?”

“Go away.”

He digs into his pocket, pulling out the rock he’d stolen from your friend a few weeks ago. “Don’t you want to hear my findings?”

“No.”

“I think it has evil properties.” You turn to look at him. He’s waving the small crystal around, like he’s attempting to cast a spell with it.

“Evil properties?”

“I haven’t fucked anyone since I first touched it.”

You can’t help bursting into laughter. “I don’t think that’s the rock’s fault.”

He shoves it back in his pocket. “Are you implying something mean, little dove?”

“I’m saying it doesn’t surprise me if no one wants to fuck you.”

“Plenty of people want to fuck me. It’s my interest in fucking them that’s the problem.”

“See a doctor.”

He grins. “I have no problem getting hard. I can prove it.”

“No thanks.”

“The problem…” he moves in front of you, one hand pressed to the wall as he leans over you. “...is that I can only get hard for you.”

You look up into his eyes, a little taken aback. He teased you, for years. But not like this. You’d always thought of it as mocking. Making fun of you for never dating anyone among other things. The first time one of his little comments had gotten under your skin was at a party in early high school—during a game of spin the bottle. When one of the other boys had landed on you he’d spoken over all the chatter, voice loud and clear for everyone to hear. ‘Spin again. She’s a spectator.’ You’d been too embarrassed to do or say anything at all, curling in on yourself as his friend leaned forward to spin again.

Your roommate pulls the bathroom door open, stumbling out into the hallway. You duck under Minho’s arm to catch her. “Alright?” you ask, taking her bag from her hand. She mumbles an incoherent response.

“You need a lift?” Minho speaks from behind you. You look your friend up and down, clearly past her limit for the night.

“We can get an uber.”

“I’m leaving now anyway, it’s no issue.”

“You’ve been drinking,” you say, turning to nod at the drink in his hand. He holds it in front of your face so you can look down into the cup. “It’s just coke zero. Sip it.”

Your near empty bank balance flashes across your mind's eye. You sigh. “Lead the way, then.”

You help your friend down the stairs, Minho a few steps in front of you. She leans to whisper in your ear, far too drunk to realise the actual volume of her voice. “You should definitely fuck him,” she slurs. Minho turns to meet your eyes. He’d heard.

You pull your roommate's shoes off her feet, tugging the blankets over her. Minho stands in the doorway, like it’s completely normal for him to be in your apartment. You push him out of the room, closing your friend's door gently behind you.

“Thanks for the lift… and helping me with her,” you say, guiding him towards the front door. He turns just before you’re successful, smiling down at you.

“You’re welcome,” he says sweetly, reaching into his pocket. “Can you give this back for me?” He offers you the small rock.

“Fine.” You take it from his palm. He doesn’t move, rocking back and forth on his heels a little.

“Anything else? Are you expecting a tip for your services?”

He grins. “Are you offering?”

“What did you mean earlier?” you blurt out, regretting it instantly.

“Hm?”

Fuck it. “At the party.”

“You’re gonna need to be more specific, dove,” he says, rocking forward towards you—one corner of his lips curved up.

“You said…you could only…that I—I mean…”

“That you’re the only one that gets me hard,” he finishes for you.

“Yeah, that.”

“Don’t know what clarification you’re looking for. It’s pretty straightforward.” He wraps his hand around your closed fist, the one holding the crystal. “This magic rock cursed me to spend my nights stroking my cock to the thought of you.”

You think you get it now—what he’s doing, the game he’s playing. You were in a dry-spell, the man in front of you the only guy in your circle hot enough to be worth fucking. If it was a game, something you could both brush off—maybe it would be something you could get past. Getting each other off then resuming your mutual resentment.

You take a small step closer. “How do you think this curse is broken?”

“Maybe I just have to give it back,” he says, squeezing your hand where he still holds you.

“And if that doesn’t work?”

His eyes drop to the neckline of your dress. “I have another idea.” Okay, yeah. You understood what he was doing.

“Mm?” you prompt.

“Give it what it wants.”

“What the crystal wants?” you ask. He nods. “What does the crystal want?”

“Wants me to fuck you,” he mutters, sounding distracted.

You hold back a laugh at his deadly serious expression. “So…the rock—sorry, the magic crystal you stole from my friend’s bedroom dresser…it wants you to fuck me…”

“Mm.”

You can’t keep your lips curving up, amused by the whole scenario. The man couldn’t have just hit on you? “I guess I do owe you a favour.”

His eyes snap up to yours. “You…you mean—”

“Well I can’t just let you go on afflicted by a curse…that would be cruel.”

You head towards your bedroom, turning to see him still frozen to the same spot. “Come on then,” you encourage, turning to open the door as his soft footfalls finally move across the floorboards. You drop the rock on your bedside table then close the door behind him. “Take your clothes off,” you instruct, reaching to unzip your dress.

“What?”

“You can fuck me clothed if you’d prefer.”

He blinks slowly then reaches for his hem, lifting his shirt over his head quickly. You watch as he fiddles with his pants, finally managing to shove them down his legs. He stumbles a little as he attempts to kick them off. You can’t help giggling at the spectacle of the man who’d made you feel so small all those years ago shoving his clothes off in desperation for you.

Power. It felt like power.

You zip the dress back up as he struggles, stepping over to him just as he pulls his legs free finally. He looks up at you, lips parted—his two front teeth peeking through. “Should we do it on the bed? Against the wall?” you ask.

He says nothing, blinking at you as his eyes widen slightly. You look down. “You didn’t finish.” His eyes follow you, looking down at his underwear. You drop to your knees, hooking your fingers in the waistband and pulling them slowly down his thighs. His breath hitches as his cock is freed.

You rest your palm on his thick thigh, stroking up and down his skin gently as you reach for his cock. You look up. “This is the problem, then?” you ask, mouth close enough that you’re sure he feels your breath against his tip. He still says nothing. This was the longest you’d spent in his presence without hearing his voice.

You halt your movements, raising your eyebrows a little—letting him know you expect a response.

“Y-Yeah,” he stutters out.

You squeeze slightly, fingers wrapped around his base. “It only gets hard when you think of me?”

He nods.

“Since you stole the crystal?” He says nothing, eyes closing as his lips fall open a little. “Since the crystal?” you prompt. He opens his eyes, looking down at you again—still saying nothing.

Your brows draw together at his lack of response, then he speaks. “Bed,” he says, a very late response to your earlier question. You stand, releasing him so you can move to your bed—settling yourself against the pillow. He stands where you left him for a moment, his chest rising and falling as he sucks in and releases a deep breath.

You reach into your bedside drawer, pulling out a bottle of lube and tossing it onto the bed beside you. He watches you from the end of the bed as you pull your dress up to your hips, revealing your panties to him. That spurs him into action, falling forward so he can crawl up the mattress to you. He stops between your legs, looking up at you for permission. You nod and he reaches for you, finger stroking over your centre gently before he pulls your panties down your legs.

“The dress?” he asks.

“Leave it.” It added to the power, having him naked while you kept some of your modesty. As much modesty as one could have while spreading their legs for someone anyway.

He nods, leaning forward to grab the lube then sitting back on his heels. You watch as he strokes himself, eyes fixed on your bare cunt. He doesn’t say anything, focused on his task—like this was all part of a plan you’d discussed and agreed upon. The sloppy sound of the watery lube being worked up and down his cock fills the room. You reach down, stroking one finger through your folds.

His brows draw together, mouth opening a little more—his two front teeth visible again. “Gonna fuck me now?” you ask, watching as his eyes flick up to yours.

He falls forward, aligning himself with your entrance before pausing. He looks up. “What if—what if this doesn’t work?” You frown, confused for a second. Right, the crystal. He was really into this little game. Was he…implying he wanted to fuck you again. Setting it up for another try at breaking this ‘curse’... all before he’d even got his cock in you.

“We’ll try again.”

Right answer, apparently. He taps his cock against you once, twice, then presses forward—a low moan escaping him as he bottoms out. He grabs your hips, lifting you off the bed so he can fuck into you—zero build up. You watch as he uses you, brows drawn together in concentration. You bask in it for a moment, the feeling of him fucking you deep. Then you miss it, the power.

“Minho,” you say, voice uneven from his hard thrusts. He pauses, looking down at you, eyes hooded. “Let me see your cock.”

He frowns, mouth opening and closing—like he wants to say something but can’t find the words. His hands still grip you hard, holding you to his hips. Then, “Why?”

“We’re trying to fix the curse, right?.”

“I—”

“Lie down,” you instruct, interrupting him.

He pulls himself free of you, lowering you onto the bed surprisingly gently. You sit up as he lies down on his back, cock pointing towards the ceiling. You sit over one of his thighs, his warm skin pressed to your bare cunt.

He looks up to you from where he rests against the pillow, a look of awe on his face. You reach for the bottle of lube, opening the bottle to begin pouring it over his cock as you begin speaking. “What do you think about? When you get hard…” you ask, being overly generous with the cold slippery liquid.

“Uh…”

“We wanna figure this thing out, yeah? I need all the info.”

You lean forward, gently touching his slit with the tip of your finger—pretending to inspect him thoroughly. You make sure your breath brushes his skin. “Fu-uck,” he stutters, hip rising off the bed a little. You’re jostled on his thigh, the muscle tensing against your cunt. “You’re torturing me, little dove.”

“I’m curing you, remember?”

“Just let me fuck you, yeah? That’ll fix it.”

“You didn’t seem sure…”

“I’m sure. It’ll work. Just need your cunt.”

You move your mouth directly over his tip, lips almost brushing against him. “You sure it’s my cunt it needs?”

He throws his head back against the pillow, hips attempting to lift off the bed again—his tip brushing your lips before you can pull back. “God, fuck. Yeah, your cunt. Need your cunt,” he mutters.

You climb over him, sinking down his length with no warning. His hands come up to grasp your waist, holding you down. “Like this?” you ask.

He nods, mouth hanging open. He’s still holding you down, cock buried deep. You press your hands to his chest, leaning forward. “You’ll have to let me move if I’m going to fuck you,” you whisper. He releases you, hands dropping to his sides to grip the bed sheets. Then you move, rolling your hips as you lift and drop your weight down his cock.

You have to stop yourself leaning forward and pressing your mouth to his, tempted by his plump upper lip. That’d be too much, pushing this little game too far. You watch his face as you fuck him. His eyes are tightly closed—allowing you the liberty to indulge in that temptation, at least.

His cock pushes through your walls perfectly, filling the emptiness you hadn’t satisfied in months. You look over to the bedside table where the pink crystal sits prettily, looking perfectly at home amongst your belongings. A low moan pulls your attention back to the man underneath you.

a/n: this was supposed to be a drabble and i got carried away and then i was at 3k. i could easily make this longer if people like this enough. let me know!

please reblog and share your thoughts. caption, tags, replies, or ask box, i read it all. feedback is what motivates me to write more!

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derinxfam · 2 years

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Bang Chan, as the dad of the group, what’s your best dad joke?

requested by @agibbangs ♡

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derinxfam · 2 years

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22 for seventeen kim mingyu?

The Way You Said “I Love You”

22. Muffled, from the other side of the door

“Y/N,” he muttered, forehead resting against the wooden door. You had locked yourself in here and hadn’t shown your face since he had done an utterly stupid thing that made his heart drop to the bottom of his stomach and his thorax tighten with anxiety. “Baby, come out…”“Fuck yourself, Kim.”He flinched at the coarse language, the expletives aimed at himself instead of someone else for the first time, and his throat tightened more than it already had.

“I can explain-”“I don’t want to listen to any of your bullshit excuses, Mingyu. I’m not as stupid as you think I am.”“I don’t think you’re stupid at all, baby.”

A crushing weight was beginning to settle over his shoulders and he was painfully aware of the several of the other members sitting in the living room, desperately trying to listen. He wished he was out there now, instead of feeling like he was going to vomit as he tried to salvage his relationship.

“Y/N, I love you.”

In hindsight, it had been a stupid decision. To try and use feelings to win you back after the pictures you had seen on your phone, posted all over the internet and being the only thing anybody could talk about? It was ill-judged and stupid of him, and he knew it as soon as the words spilt from his lips.

He didn’t expect you to wrench the door open and if his hands didn’t shoot out to brace himself against the door frame then he would have fallen face first on the floor in front of you.Looking at your face, with the fury making your hands and bottom lip tremble, he wished he had fallen in front of you again. At least then he’d be prepared to look you in the eyes again.

“Your honeyed words won’t work on me this time, asshole. Take your love and shove it straight up your ass for all I care.” You shoved past him, knocking him slightly off balance, and stormed down the hallway, pulling the front door open and shoving his hand off your wrist.

“Y/N, wait- Don’t go!” Mingyu begged, one last desperate attempt to keep you here with you.

He knew you, though. He knew that you were too angry to stay and too prideful to ever come back.

“Fuck you, Kim Mingyu. I don’t want to ever see you again, you disgusting cheater.”

The door slammed shut behind you and he was left alone, standing in the hallway, hand reached out for you.

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derinxfam · 3 years

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dishonesty

PRAY YOU CATCH ME (PART I)

emptiness

summary: the journey of a broken-hearted woman and a remorseful man into the search of healing and forgiveness.

pairing: kim seokjin x reader (infidelity au)

inspiration: emptiness, written by warsan shire.

warnings: grammatical mistakes, cheating, profanity, violence, strong language.

a/n: hi, chapter finally is out! this chap finished the first part of the series, that was fast, haha. in next chapter we are going to finally see seokjin´s side of the story. this dude is a bit unedited, so i will come back later for corrections. as always your likes, reblogs and commentaries are appreciated. happy reading!

“Fuck, you are sucking me in.”

Your mouth falls open, letting out a loud whimper when you feel the man above you suck a hickey on the valley of your breasts, his tongue feels hot against your damp skin when he trails up his mouth towards your neck.

He was hitting your sweet spot with every thrust, causing your moans to get louder with every movement of his hips. Your voice reaches a pitch that you never knew that you could reach. Pleasure raising through your spine, every nerve of your body singing with the delicious drag of his shaft against your walls.

“Are you going to cum?” his voice is husky against your ear, his teeth biting your earlobe. You nod, incapable to form words, “Beg for it!” he hisses with a hard thrust that makes you let out a loud cry.

“Please, sir,” you choke out your plea, your legs tangling themselves on his hips; your soft breast against his hard chest, “Please, let me cum.”

He laughs, so dark and dirty, and you loved it.

“Look at me in the eyes when you cum, slut.”

Your teeth sink against your lower lip, and when you open your eyes, his phantom comes back to haunt you.

Against the dim light of the bedroom, you see a familiar face above you; deep almond eyes with damp chestnut falling over his eyes with every thrust, and beautifully plump lips turned into a smirk. Despite the pleasure rising through your body, as well as the knot in your stomach getting ready to snap, you feel a sob get stuck in your throat.

No.

You blink, once, twice, praying for his phantom to go, because he has no right to appear to you.

In a desperate attempt to chase it away, you yank the man from his neck towards your lips for a messy kiss, with teeth and saliva.

You don't mind it. Everything is better than keeping seeing him every time you are about to reach your orgasm.

Between all the lust, or maybe he notices how you were incapable of looking at his eyes, the man forgets his order, deciding, instead, to move his callous fingers to your clit; his rough finger feels like heaven against your swollen pearl, which he rubs roughly.

“Cum now!”

Your body obeys him and your orgasm hits you violently. All your limbs shaking, your mouth wide open in a silent scream and your eyes almost rolling to the back of your head. Your mind is totally blank in that glorious moment when you forget everything and the only thing you can think of is the pleasure consuming you.

A sexy masculine grunt reaches your ears between the haze of your orgasm, and when you manage to see clearly, you are delighted with the view of his beautiful red cock so close to your face, his shaft glistening with your juices, and you can even smell your orgasm. His hand is jerking himself and makes such obscene sounds whilst his eyes are focused on your breasts, that move with every breath you take. Letting out a giggle, you replace his hand with yours, guiding him towards your chest, his knees at every side of your body, trembling as you caress him, once, twice, and then he lets out a deep moan at the same time that thick spurt of hot and creamy white come fall to your chest and chin.

“Fuck, you are something else,” he breathes out when you finally let him go, falling to your side.

Your head feels fuzzy, your body still sedated with the afterglow of sex, but you know better now.

It never lasts what you wish it would.

“Thanks,” you smile when he cleans his sticky ejaculate off your chest and chin with a damp towel that he probably found in the bathroom. His touch is soft but is by no means the touch of a lover. You know that he is just being nice, opening the door for a second meeting or round if he is lucky.

Soon, familiar numbness starts to invade your body, grief sedated by orgasms. The euphoria that you are gifted kindly never last long, making the pain on your chest bigger every time, causing the hole on your chest to grow bigger every passing day.

Sex and other bodies never left you completely satisfied. It is addicting, you have to admit it; however, when everything is said and done, you only feel emptiness in your heart.

Hollow.

How could he do it? Did he feel that emptiness too? Was he happy living like that?

Suddenly, the room is loud, even though your own respirations are the only sound present. You get up from the bed, ignoring the ache of your muscles, your hands already putting on your underwear and bra. You can't stand another minute in the room, with a musky scent and a strong smell of sex and alcohol.

“Already going?” he says whilst lying down; his eyes moving all over your body when you put on your dress.

“Yes,” you breathe, your finger brushing your hair trying to make it less messy, “Thanks for the night.”

He laughs at your awkward tone.

It is never easy. In the last months, you have been having all the nightstands that you missed in college. It makes you uncomfortable doing the walk of shame after, never having the stomach to sleep in the same bed as your nightstand.

Did he fall asleep next to one of his?

“No problem, beautiful. You know where to find me.”

You laugh awkwardly, waking goodbye and almost running out of the room.

When you walk past the lobby towards the parking lot, your brand-new heels clicking with every step you take, you feel the burning stare of the girl on the lobby desk, she has a disgusting expression on her pretty face. You fidget with your keys when you wish her goodnight, at which she doesn’t bother to respond. It is okay, you are already used to it.

Always taking the hits without batting an eyelash.

The cold air of the night feels refreshing against your skin, but you don't stop to enjoy it, rushing instead to get on in your car, just wanting to get out of that place. Some tears start to gather in your eyelashes, but you hold them back, refusing to let them roll.

Before starting the car, you glimpse at the screen of your new phone to look at the hour, two at half of the morning. Checking your notifications, you see a text from Sooyoung asking where you were and if you were alright. Jia texted you asking at what hour you would come home. The last one is from five hours ago, and it was from your editor, congratulating you for the one million copies sold from your last novel, for finally being the successful writer you ever wanted to be.

You can't help smiling bitterly.

So much happiness for a successful woman.

That was the excuse for you partying tonight; that, and the fact that one of the mistresses of your soon ex-husband was willing to cry and finally talk about the adventure and love that she shared with him. The one that his meek wife couldn't give him.

Your hands grip the steering wheel tightly when you remember her words.

“Seokjin and I love each other so much. He used to tell me that I was the most beautiful woman in the world. His touch and kisses show me that. I know that we are meant to be together, he even promised me that he was going to leave his wife for me. If she sees this, I beg her to let him go and let him be happy.”

Her smirk towards the camera is going to live for years in your head. You used to believe women are supposed to have each other's back, but it seems that fame and a man are reason enough to tear each other apart.

It's just a matter of time before the media starts to haunt you again. Your divorce news is meant to be released when the process is finished. Of course, if Seokjin gives you the pleasure of, stop rescheduling the conciliation meeting.

You don't understand why he keeps delaying it. Isn't that what he wants? He can finally be free with the dyed blond who claims to be the love of his life, plus his harem of side chicks who are better than you. Who were successful in erasing all your love and dedication for him.

The women he let humiliate you and laugh at you.

Because you weren't enough for him.

When you arrive at Jia’s apartment, in one of the most secure and expensive neighborhoods of Seoul (thanks to Yoongi), you notice how all the lights are off. However, on the third floor of the building, you see one head with brown hair peeking through the window.

You sigh, rubbing your finger through your hair, preparing yourself for a lecture that you don't want to hear.

“Where were you?” Jia inquires when you open the door of her apartment, the place you have been crashing since five months ago, “I was worried about you, I have been calling you. I thought–”

“They haunt me down?” you mock whilst hanging your coat in the rack next to the door, and leaving your keys in the bowl on the coffee table.

You know that she is exhausted, and you feel guilty when you see that she hasn't even changed from her work attire, her button-down shirt slightly wrinkled as well as her pencil skirt. She probably has been waiting for you to come home.

“Sooyoung called me asking for you when she couldn't reach you, “ she says, boring her almond eyes on you.

You shrug, “Isn’t she in Tokyo for a photoshoot?” you try to change the subject, because for the look in her eyes you know that she is ready to give you a reality check, one that you are too tired to deal with, “I hope that the models are kind to her,” you laugh walking towards the kitchen, taking one cup from the kitchen cabinets.

You feel the burning gaze of your friend when you take your time to make yourself a cup of coffee. Looking impatiently at the coffee machine work, just wanting to run away from the kitchen, wash the trails of the fingers of the boy of tonight and just work on your manuscript.

“This needs to stop.”

“Jia, I don't want to hear it. I am fine, I am moving on,” you defend yourself as you carefully take the mug with hot and rich coffee. You attempt to step away from the kitchen, but Jia plants herself on the doorstep with a determined expression. She furrows her brow now that she is closer to you, and you can't help but feel a bit of embarrassment.

You are sure that she can smell on you the boy you hook up with, she can taste the smell of alcohol, sweat and sex. The perfume you have been wearing the last months.

“You are not moving on,” she exclaims, “You are hurting yourself,” she tries to grab you by the arms, but you avoid her.

“Jia, stop.”

“No!” she screams, some tears accumulating in her eyes. She always has been a cry baby, “I am so sick of just watching from the sidelines, how are you destroying yourself. All this working all day in your room, partying every night, not sleeping, just drinking without moderation,” Jia licks her lips, and you tighten the grip on your mug, a knot stuck in your throat, “And all the men that you keep adding to your body count.”

“Seokjin already has the divorce papers!” saying his name out loud almost makes you sob, the familiar ache in your chest intensifies, “I am a free woman, just bonded by a paper that he refuses to sign. I am not doing anything wrong!” you bit back, feeling hurt for being accused by her.

He did it too, and he is not hurt.

He is not broken.

The winner takes it all, isn't it?

“You are hurting yourself,” she repeats with a deep breath, “I see it in your face, sweetheart. Every time that you come back after a hook-up, there is pain on your face. Every night you come back looking-”

Empty.

Your successful career; the handsome men who buy you drinks at the club, who focus only on you when there are other beautiful and younger women out there; the pleasure that you take from them; your own pride being build back because of the men at your beck and call; the love of your friends, their open arms who keep you steady.

Still, you feel desolate.

Is not fair. Why do you have to carry this burden? Why do you have to keep taking the hits? Why do you have to be the one humiliated?

Why weren't you enough for him?

“You are one of my best friends (name),” Jia continues, looking even more worried by the way your face hardens, eyes hollow, lifeless, “Sooyoung and I are so worried about you. It hurts us to see you like this, we try to let you live it, thinking it is just a phase, that you would feel better after,” she takes the mug from your hands, placing it on her kitchen counter, grabbing your hands between her soft ones, “But the days pass, and you are hurting yourself,” you can almost taste the desperation on her tone, you feel it in the way she tenderly brushes your faces out of your face, you know that she is worried, “I want to help you, Sooyoung wants to help you, but you need to talk with us. You have been asking us to forget what happened, but it can't be forgotten. I know that you have been feeling–”

What does she know?

You bitterly laugh, “Do I look empty?” you growl, violently taking your hands from hers, “You know how I feel?,” you mock, her face falls, some tears falling down her cheeks, but you don't stop, just wanting to let it out, “You and Sooyoung know nothing about how I feel. You don't know how it feels to be thrown aside by the person who means the most to you. How it feels to be deceived, lied to, cheated by the man who you love with every fiber being of your soul and body!” in an angry outburst, you throw the mug of coffee to the floor with a movement of your trembling hand. The rooms feel so suffocating, “Yoongi has always been faithful to you. Always taking care of you, being loyal to you, always loving you. He never has fuck around with girls and publicly humiliated you in front of the world by exposing his affair!”

A choked sob escapes you.

“Love–”

The pet name feels like a slap to the face.

“You don't have to endure the pity stares of people, the disgust expression of others, the mock on their faces. You didn't have to see with your own eyes how he fucked his mistress, how he pleased her, the things he said to her,” you take a shaky breath, “You didn't have to hear from one of the girls you husband fucked behind your back, how much he loves her, how well he pleased her. You didn't have to see how she flashes the jewelry he bought for her. How she pleads to let her make him happy because you weren't woman enough to do it! So don't you dare to say that you know how I feel!”

The words on your tongue are bitter, hurtful and when you finally raise your gaze towards Jia you see the tears on her face, hurt on her expression, just like if you have hit her.

It makes you feel worse, makes you feel ungrateful, like a bad person. She offers you your home, her support, her love, and you just . . . at that exact moment, your phone rings, and you see another call from Sooyoung. You feel like a monster when you decline it, but how can you face her?

Maybe this is the reason why he did what he did.

Maybe you deserved it.

You wipe the tears on your eyes hastily, refusing to cry. Jia sniffs, taking some brave steps towards you, but you step away.

“I am sorry, I am so sorry.”

Her face shows pain, and for a minute you wonder if she can feel what you feel, yet you don't wait to find out. Running away from the living room, you lock yourself in your room.

You avoid the mirror when you step in the shower.

That night you fall asleep at your desk, your laptop open and some words are written from the bottom of your heart. Words full of anger and bitterness. Words full of pain.

“Did he bend your reflection? Did he make you forget your own name? Did he convince you he was a god? . . . Are you a slave to the back of his hand?”

“Shit, you are sucking me in, slut.”

His deep voice, that once swore that you were the love of his life, that used to whisper in your ear when he was still yours; follows you to the dreamless world when you wake up, feeling startled.

Heart beating on your chest, the images of him in her, her lips on her, his fingers in her are stuck in your head.

“Darling.”

Lifting your head at the familiar voice, you meet with the warmest pair of eyes; the same ones who used to hold you when you used to trip and hurt your knee, the ones that glinted with pride when you sold your first copy of your novel, the ones that had tears when they saw you in a white gown.

Behind her, you see a familiar face; a broad figure that, before him, used to be your safe place.

You feel ashamed.

Lowering your head, you avoid eye contact because you don't want them to see you like this. They would be so hurt if they see the failure that her daughter is. A woman that was unable to keep her husband from straying.

The soft fingers of your mom, lifts your chin tenderly at the same time your father comes closer, kneeling next to you. His warm hands guiding you to his embrace.

It breaks something in you.

Soon, the tears that you stubbornly refused to let down after discovering him, finally trail down your cheeks. There are so many of them, making your sight blurry. Your mom, hold back her tears when she hears your painful sobs, your voice so full of hurt.

Behind them, Jia and Sooyoung stand at the doorstep with linked hands. You feel guilty that you ruined her business trip, but when your mom takes you between her arms, all your thoughts fade away.

“I am so sorry, sweetheart, I am so sorry that we weren't here for you.”

“It hurts so much, mom,” you manage to say between your sobs, “Why did he do this to me? Why did he betray me?” she tightens her embrace, your face against her beating heart, “Why I wasn't enough for him?” you whimper, “I thought he loved me, mom. Why didn't he love me?”

“Baby,” you hear your mom sniffing, but you don't see the pain look she exchanges with your dad.

“Why didn't he love me, mom? I love him so much. Even now, I love him so much.”

You feel a nausea raise from your throat, your gaze gets even more blurry, your head feels heavy, and you just want to fall asleep in her secure embrace.

For a few minutes.

Just for a little bit.

When you wake up, your head feels fuzzy as the throbbing pain on it makes you flinch. Your mouth is dry, and a pair of fingers are gripping yours.

Blinking a few times, you notice white walls around you; at your right side, there is a small window showing the dark sky. Some tubes slid from your left forearm whilst a wet feeling traveled down your veins.

There is a quietness in the room, only the soft steps of people outside let you know that you are not alone in this place.

What happened? Where are your parents? Where are Jia and Sooyoung?

Did you dream it?

A sniff makes you turn towards the person sitting next to you, who is holding your hand as if they were afraid to let go. Your unsteady gaze meets deep chocolate eyes.

The same almond eyes that torment you in your dreams; the same ones that strayed to other women, the same ones that now look at you with so much remorse, guilt, and love.

Your traitor's hearts beat even faster when he meets your gaze.

“Seokjin?”

He gives you a weak smile.

“Hi love. I missed you.”

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