moonlightdreamzz - Tumblr blog

moonlightdreamzz · 5 months

Text

FOR LIFE — Choi Yeonjun

SUMMARY ✰ You don’t want to bother your ex-boyfriend, Yeonjun, but in the midst of intense heartbreak and questioning why the ones you love always leave you, you have no choice but to invite him over to help you make sense of it.

GENRE ✰ Ex!Yeonjun, Firstlove!Yeonjun, ANGST

🎧 ➤ For Life by EXO

You swipe down on your phone to check the time, which reads 10:00PM.

Your lower lip is practically bleeding from how hard you're biting it, all because of the nervousness you feel as you hover over Yeonjun's phone number. You know you shouldn't reach out to him, even though the last time he saw you, six months ago, his lips planted a delicate kiss on your forehead and he assured you that you could call him whenever you need him.

It’s selfish though, is it not? To interrupt whatever peace he’s gained since the two of you broke up, all because you haven’t been able to find your own? A year and a half has passed, and based off of the scraps of his life he’s allowed you to have through social media, he seems so much better off. He’s constantly traveling, glowing, and you know him—he’s way too beautiful and perfect to not have replaced you by now.

“Fuck it.” You utter. With a shaky thumb, and a quivering voice, you press the call button. You have no clue whether he’ll pick up the phone for you. All you know is that more than anything, you need to hear his voice, and as your first love, and the only ex you don’t absolutely despise, he’s the only person qualified to assist you in this moment.

You’re sitting on the floor in-front of your bed in fetal position, rocking back and forth to the sound of the phone ringing. After three rings, it stops, and so does your heart for a second. Did he send you to voicemail? He probably did. I mean, you would've sent yourself to voicemail if you're being completely honest.

“Hello?”

His voice is clear and unwavering, and now you're frozen in place. Your mouth opens and then closes repeatedly, but words refuse to come out of your mouth and you aren't sure why.

"Hello? Y/N? Maybe she called by accident." He mutters. You hear him getting out of his chair in his studio, the squeaky sound instantly reminding you of all the times you curled up into his lap, content as long as you're with him, but silently wishing he'd give it up for the night and take you home so the two of you could sleep.

“Um, it’s me. Me, as in Y/N. Wait—you know that already.”

You start to relax a little when you hear his consoling chuckle that he uses when you're amusing him. “You don’t think I deleted your number, did you?” You don’t have to see him to know that his left brow has raised teasingly.

“Well it has been a long time.”

“It doesn’t matter how much time has passed. I told you that you can call me whenever. I’m always going to care about you.”

You know he’s a saint—everybody does, but it still catches you off guard every time. His tone is so genuine, and you can hear his the confident smile he’s wearing on his face. He knows he has you feeling all warm and fuzzy inside, holding in your squeal of excitement that you would totally let out if he wasn’t still on the other line.

“Thanks.”

“Is that all you called for? To hear my voice? I didn’t know we were allowed to do that.”

Your eyes shut, and without regret, you slap yourself on the forehead. God, why is he still so good at taking your breath away? “No.” You sigh, “I just—I really just…ugh.”

“Take your time.” He coos.

“Yeonjun.” You wine, a shy hiccup escaping your throat.

“Okay, I’m sorry. It’s just so easy to tease you. What’s wrong?”

“If I’m being honest, I’m a mess.”

“You’re not a mess, Y/N. Don’t say that.”

Had this been a few months ago, you’d stop him right there, asking him if you’re truly not a mess, why didn’t he stay? But that would ruin the mood, wouldn’t it? You hate how quick your emotions change. You were happy to hear his voice—enjoying your nostalgic back and forth, but now your entire body feels icky and tears are welling up in your eyes.

“Well something isn’t right, because I keep giving my all to people and they keep sucking the life out of me and leaving.”

Silence.

“Can I come over?” He says. You don’t know whether to be surprised or not. You know him—he probably felt a rush of guilt from your subtle, but sharp words. Guilt is what you believe kept the two of you together as long as you were. You really don’t know the truth, because all he said when he broke up with you is the cop-out “I’m too overwhelmed” instead of saying what it really was.

“I mean—yeah, of course. But you don’t have to. You actually can hang up and pretend I never called if you want. This is weird anyways for you I’m sure.” You force a laugh to try and lighten the mood, and he mimics you.

“I owe it to you. I’ll be over in like thirty minutes.” Is all he says before hanging up.

The room suddenly feels both emptier and warmer after Yeonjun's promise to come over. You take a deep breath, a mix of relief and apprehension settling within you. The rhythmic ticking of the clock becomes more pronounced as you gather your thoughts, realizing the gravity of what you've just set in motion.

After what seems like an eternity, a soft knock interrupts the silence. You hesitate for a moment before getting up, your legs feeling like jelly. You open the door, and there he is, Yeonjun, with that familiar reassuring smile.

"Hey," he greets, his eyes reflecting genuine concern.

Ah, there it was. The paralyzation of your mind and mouth whenever your orbs greeted each other. It didn’t matter how long you prepared your words, everything always disappeared when he was in-front of you. What did you invite him over for again?

You manage a nervous laugh, realizing the irony of the situation. "I think I invited you over to... discuss life, or maybe just to remind myself what it feels like to have someone who understands." You slowly back away from the door, which allows him to step in. Flashbacks of him being nose to nose with you try to creep in, but you’re still fighting.

Yeonjun smirks, his eyes holding a playful glint. "Well, I'm here for both, and anything else you need. Discussing life is kind of my specialty."

The room settles into a comfortable quietude, filled only with the soft hum of distant city sounds. Yeonjun's presence brings a warmth that transcends the physical space, as if the air is charged with the shared history between you two.

"Can I sit?" Yeonjun questions softly. He refuses to look at the couch, and you wonder if it’s because he can’t help but be reminded of every kiss, touch, and comfort the two of you have shared on its worn cushions.

You nod, giving him permission as you try to read the emotions flickering in his eyes. He chooses a spot on the floor instead, perhaps opting for a neutral space that doesn't carry the weight of history.

The silence stretches for a moment, both of you enveloped in your thoughts. You can't help but steal glances at him, the playfulness from earlier replaced by a quiet contemplation. The ghost of a smile tugs at his lips, hinting at the shared nostalgia.

“So.” You utter.

“So.” He repeats.

“I uh—you’re my first love.”

"I know," he replies softly, a mixture of understanding and a hint of regret in his voice.

"My first... everything," you remind yourself in the moment, the vulnerability in your words echoing the raw emotions that brought him to your apartment tonight.

Yeonjun shifts on the floor, adjusting to the weight of your confession. "I remember," he says, his tone gentle. "It's not something you easily forget."

A bittersweet smile plays on your lips as you recall the shared moments that shaped your past. "You left, though. You left me wondering what was wrong with me."

He looks down, his fingers absentmindedly tracing patterns on the floor. "Y/N, I didn't leave because of you. It was me, my own issues. I didn't handle things the way I should have."

Your eyes meet his, searching for sincerity in the depths of his gaze. "But it felt like I wasn't enough. Just like now, with someone else. I keep wondering if there's something inherently wrong with me."

Yeonjun sighs, a heavy exhale that carries the weight of shared struggles. "Y/N, it's not you. You're not the problem. Sometimes people leave not because of who you are, but because of where they are in their own journey. It took me a while to understand that."

You take a deep breath, the truth settling in your chest. "I just wanted you to know... why I called you tonight. It's like history repeating itself, and I needed someone who understands."

Yeonjun's gaze softens, a silent invitation for you to share your story. The weight of unshed tears lingers in your eyes as you begin to unravel the painful narrative of your recent past.

"It's Yuta," you admit, the name carrying a bitter taste on your tongue. "He came into my life when I was convinced I was done with relationships. Said all the right things, made me believe there was something real between us."

Yeonjun listens, his expression a mix of empathy and concern. You trace invisible patterns on your palms, a feeble attempt to anchor yourself in the vulnerability of the moment.

"But the moment I started to like him, he turned distant, hot and cold," you continue, your voice cracking slightly. "It was like he played this game, and I didn't understand the rules. One day he was all in, and the next, he acted like we were strangers."

Yeonjun's jaw tightens, a subtle display of the protective instinct he still holds for you. "He doesn't deserve you," he says, his voice carrying an undercurrent of anger.

The pain in your chest intensifies as you delve deeper into the tangled web of emotions. "I thought I was over these insecurities, that I could move on. But it hurts, Yeonjun. It hurts to feel like I'm not enough, like no matter how hard I try, someone will always find a reason to leave."

Tears threaten to spill over, and you look away, hoping to hide the vulnerability etched across your face. The room feels suffocating, a reminder of the cycles of heartache you find yourself trapped in.

But the echoes of Yuta's actions linger, reopening old wounds and casting shadows on the love that once bloomed in this very room. The irony of finding solace in the person who was once the source of your joy is not lost on you, and the weight of it all presses heavily on your shoulders.

In a desperate attempt to redirect the overwhelming emotions, you turn to Yeonjun, your voice trembling. "Why did you leave, Yeonjun? Was it me? Am I too much, too clingy? Not pretty enough? I need to understand."

Your words spill out in a frantic torrent, the questions forming a chaotic symphony in your mind. The room seems to close in as you anxiously await his response, fingers twisting together in a silent plea for clarity.

Yeonjun's eyes flicker with guilt, a deep-rooted understanding of the pain he once caused you. "Y/N, it's not about you. It never was. I had my own issues, my own demons. I ran because I was scared, and I didn't know how to face them."

"But why?" you press, desperation lacing your voice. "I need to know. I can't keep replaying scenarios in my head, wondering what I did wrong."

He runs a hand through his hair, a gesture of frustration. "It's not about you being too much or not enough. You were everything. It's about me not being enough for myself."

Your heart pounds in your chest, the words sinking in but offering little solace. The uncertainty gnaws at your sanity, and you're on the verge of a breakdown without even realizing it. The fear of inadequacy, the fear of repeating the same cycle with Yeonjun that you did with Yuta—it's all too much to bear.

"I just wanted to be good enough for you," you admit, your voice barely above a whisper. "I wanted to be enough for someone, anyone."

The room hangs in a fragile balance, the unspoken emotions swirling between you and Yeonjun. The weight of your insecurities crashes against the fragile walls you've built, threatening to break you down completely. As you grapple with the echoes of your past and the uncertainty of the present, you find yourself caught in a storm of emotions, hoping that somewhere in this chaos, you can find the answers you so desperately seek.

Yeonjun's frustration simmers beneath the surface, a storm gathering in the calm of his expression. His eyes, once warm, now reflect the turmoil within. He takes a deep breath, his words measured but carrying an edge of exasperation.

"Y/N, I need you to understand," he begins, his tone low but intense. "You didn't make it easy for me to leave. In fact, you were the hardest person to walk away from. But being around you, it felt suffocating."

Your heart skips a beat, the words hitting you like a punch to the gut. "What do you mean?"

He runs his hands through his hair, a gesture of frustration. "You're perfect, Y/N. An angel. I'm not. I never was. Being with you highlighted everything I wasn't. It was like standing next to a light so bright, I couldn't help but cast a darker shadow."

His confession hangs in the air, the weight of his words sinking into the very core of your being. The truth, raw and unfiltered, leaves you speechless.

"And you," he continues, his eyes never leaving yours, "you attract darkness, not because there's something wrong with you, but because you're so full of light. Some people, like Yuta, and every guy before him, they weren't ready for that light. They wanted to take your good energy and use it to mask their own dark souls, leaving you with the shattered pieces."

Tears blur your vision as the truth unravels before you. The ache in your chest deepens, the realization settling in that the very qualities that make you extraordinary are the ones that others find intimidating, overwhelming.

Yeonjun's frustration morphs into a deep sense of regret, his eyes pleading for your understanding. "I wasn't ready for you, Y/N. I was too consumed by my own darkness. It's not about you being too much. It's about me not being enough for someone as pure and good as you."

There’s a silence that’s so sharp, it’s suffocating.

"Why don't you hate me?" he questions, his gaze searching yours. "After everything, after being the first one to abandon you, why don't you hate me like you seem to hate everyone else?"

In the dimly lit room, as the shadows dance across Yeonjun's features, you find yourself captivated by the familiar lines of his face. The subtle play of light highlights the contours, and you take a moment to appreciate the details that you've come to cherish.

His eyes, deep and expressive, hold a universe of emotions that have both comforted and challenged you. You remember the times they sparkled with laughter, the warmth that enveloped you in moments of shared joy. Now, in the quiet of the room, they reflect a mixture of concern and care, amplifying the intensity of your emotions.

You look at him, a myriad of emotions playing on your face. "I honestly don't know, Yeonjun. All I know is that you're the only one I can't get over. The one my mind always takes me back to. I love you, and I don't want to, but I do."

The weight of your admission hangs in the air, and you can feel the vulnerability of your heart laid bare. Yeonjun's eyes widen slightly, registering the depth of your words. His silence carries a mixture of surprise and understanding, and in that moment, you wonder if your hearts are resonating in the quiet space between you.

"Y/N, I never wanted to hurt you like this. Knowing that I'm the one you can't get over, despite everything, makes me feel a thousand times worse."

"Yeonjun," your voice trembles, "is there any part of you that still loves me?"

For a moment, Yeonjun hesitates, his eyes flickering away from yours as if avoiding the intensity of your gaze. The air seems to thicken, anticipation mourning. Finally, he meets your eyes again, his expression a mix of sadness and resolution.

"Y/N, I..." he pauses, choosing his words carefully, "I've loved you, and a part of me probably always will. But it's been a long time, and I've had to accept that you deserve more than I could give you. You deserve someone who won't hurt you, who can give you the love and stability you deserve."

Your doe-like, teary eyes lock onto his, seeking the truth that you've been denied for so long. You can sense the sincerity in his words, and even though the truth stings, there's a part of you that appreciates the honesty you've yearned for.

"Thank you for being honest with me, Yeonjun," you say, your voice barely above a whisper. It's a bittersweet acknowledgment, a painful acceptance of the reality you've been avoiding.

Yeonjun's inner monologue swirls with conflicting emotions as he observes you, the ache in his chest almost palpable. As he maintains his gaze on you, his internal struggle remains concealed behind a veil of remorse. While he acknowledges his shortcomings and the belief that he doesn't deserve you, there's a tumultuous storm of conflicting emotions within him.

I want to kiss her. The thought echoes in his mind like a persistent whisper, each word resonating with a desire that threatens to consume him. As he sees the pain in your eyes, the longing to comfort you intensifies. He imagines the taste of your lips, the warmth of your embrace—familiar sensations that once brought solace and joy.

To fall into her, to sob into her chest. The yearning is raw, a deep ache that transcends physical touch. He imagines the release of tears, the vulnerability of exposing his soul to you. The safety he once found in your embrace feels like a distant memory, and the realization of the chasm between them intensifies the pain.

I wish I could be toxic. The admission lingers in his thoughts, a confession he's never dared to voice. The allure of toxic patterns, the chaos that might temporarily numb the pain, has crossed his mind. But he refrains, acknowledging the destructive consequences it would bring to both of you.

I don't want to disappoint her ever again. The final realization echoes with a profound truth. The fear of letting you down, of causing more pain, holds him back from laying bare the entirety of his emotions. His commitment to your well-being, despite the internal chaos, remains unwavering.

You're too caught up in the sound of your heart breaking to notice the whirlwind in his mind.

Once again, the room falls silent. Neither of you knows what to do or say. Lost in your own thoughts, you both stare through each other, searching for a way through the emotional haze.

Breaking the silence, Yeonjun takes a step closer, his hand reaching out to tenderly caress your cheek. The warmth of his touch sends a shiver through your body, the sensation a paradoxical mixture of comfort and ache. "Goodnight," he murmurs, his eyes holding a depth of emotions he's yet to articulate. "I hope I helped, even a little."

As he turns to leave, the gravitational pull of his departure becomes palpable. The door seems both a physical and emotional barrier, and it's in this charged moment that you act on an impulse you can no longer suppress. Your hand reaches out, grasping his arm, pulling him back towards you.

His eyes widen with surprise, and before either of you can fully comprehend the situation, your lips meet in a kiss that holds the weight of shared history and unspoken desires. The kiss is a magnetic collision, a dance of emotions too long confined. Yeonjun responds immediately, the barriers crumbling as he embraces the intimacy of the moment.

In the heat of the moment, Yeonjun lifts you effortlessly, your legs wrapping around him as he carries you towards the bedroom. The physical and emotional boundaries blur as you lose yourselves in the shared journey, an exploration of a space where the weight of the past can be confronted and, perhaps, rewritten.

Behind the closed bedroom door, the air crackles with intensity as the kiss deepens, becoming a language of its own. Yeonjun's hands explore the familiar landscape of your body, each touch igniting a spark of desire that had long been dormant. The warmth of the room mirrors the heat between you, and as your bodies meld, the boundaries that once confined you seem to dissolve.

With a gentle urgency, Yeonjun lowers you onto the bed, the weight of his body pressing against yours. The layers of clothing become obstacles, and with a shared understanding, you begin to dismantle the barriers that separate you. The room becomes a haven for rediscovery, a sanctuary where past wounds are soothed by the tender exploration of each other's skin.

As you both lie together, catching your breath, the room feels charged with unspoken feelings. In the quiet aftermath, Yeonjun looks into your eyes, and in that moment, you sense a promise of healing and a new beginning. The heaviness of the past isn't gone, but it feels a bit lighter, as if the shared vulnerability and intimacy of the night have carried some of the weight away.

As the stillness settles over the room, a soft plea escapes your lips, breaking the quiet. "Stay, just for tonight," you murmur, your eyes reflecting a vulnerability that has long been concealed. "I want to feel loved, even if it's just for a little while."

Yeonjun, his gaze holding a mixture of understanding and remorse, sighs. The weight of the unspoken hangs in the air, but there's a tenderness in his eyes that speaks of shared pain. In that moment, he reaches out and brushes your braid from your face, his touch a gentle reassurance.

"I can stay," he says somberly, a promise laced with the acknowledgment of the complexities between you. "Just for tonight."

#txt #yeonjun #kpop black reader #txt imagines #yeonjun imagines #txt angst #tomorrow x together #txt yeonjun #kpop ambw #kpop imagines #txt scenarios #kpop x black reader #Yeonjun imagine #yeonjun angst

214 notes · View notes

moonlightdreamzz · 5 months

Text

THIN APOLOGIES / PART 2

PART 1

SUMMARY ✰ Mark is your boyfriend, and Vernon is your best friend. You’re sick of Mark not treating you right, and Vernon is too. He’s also sick of watching from the sidelines when he knows no one can make you happier than him.

PAIRING ✰ Idol!Mark x Idol!Reader x Idol!Vernon

GENRE ✰ ANGST & FLUFF

The morning has officially crept in. Your surroundings feel incredibly fresh, and the sun rays that have managed to escape from your curtain covered window have embraced you in something warm and encouraging.

Vernon’s arms still hold you, his mouth agape ever so slightly as little snores come out of it. Your vision hasn’t fully returned to you, but you know it’s absolutely adorable and you want to kiss him awake, even though you’ve never kissed him before.

What the fuck, Y/N. Why is there not even a small amount of guilt in you right now?

Maybe because it’s such an innocent moment? Or maybe you’re just enjoying the delusion that neither you nor Vernon had a real “moment”. He didn’t confess his undying love and admiration for you, if he has any, and neither did you. He’s just being a good friend, as he always has been, and you’re vulnerable right now.

You want to wake him up, as you know he’ll likely scoot away from you once he sees your position. In such a Vernon way will he laugh cheesily, telling you that you owe him for babysitting you all night, before leaving and the two of you never talking about this again.

Mark.

He hasn’t even crossed your mind, which hasn’t happened since before he came into your life. You hands instinctively reach for your phone which thankfully didn’t run too far. Knowing him, he still hands acknowledged that he forgot, abandoned, or whatever he truly did about your date last night. You’re shocked to say the least when you see a long paragraph waiting for you to respond to.

Ah, so this is where the guilt was, huh? Suddenly, everything that happened last night is weighing on you as if you committed grade A relationship sin. You’re laying in another man’s arms right now all because your boyfriend pissed you off. The bigger issue is, you still don’t want to move.

Like the snake you feel like in this moment do you slither out of Vernon’s hold, tiptoeing down your hallway so you can do as your boyfriend pleaded and FaceTime him. Maybe this was your problem? You know this will probably happen again, and yet, you’re excited to hear him apologize to you, call you baby, and tell you he’ll make it up to you.

As you quietly make your way down the dimly lit hallway, the weight of uncertainty hangs in the air. The soft glow of your phone screen illuminates your face as you dial his number, anticipation building with each ring. Will his apology be sincere, or is this just another cycle of promises destined to be broken?

The connection is established, and his face appears on the screen, a mix of remorse and longing in his eyes. You find yourself caught between the familiarity of love and the sting of disappointment. His words dance around the edges of remorse, but there's an underlying tension that makes you question the sincerity of his apologies.

Your gaze fixes on Mark's face through the screen, his words hanging in the virtual space between you. There's a vulnerability in his eyes, a raw admission that tugs at the strings of your emotions. The weight of his self-loathing echoes in the silence before you respond.

"I don't want you to hate yourself, Mark," you say, your voice a delicate balance between concern and frustration. "But it's not just about how you feel; it's about the patterns we're stuck in. I need more than apologies. I need actions that show you're committed to change."

Mark's eyes flicker, grappling with the gravity of your words. He takes a deep breath, as if summoning the strength to convey a truth he's been reluctant to face. "I know I've said this before, but I'm willing to do whatever it takes to make things right. I want us to work, to be better together."

As you listen to his earnest plea, you feel a mix of hope and skepticism. It's a delicate dance, navigating the intricate steps of forgiveness and self-preservation. The airwaves carry the weight of unspoken questions – can Mark break free from the cycle of mistakes, or is this another fleeting promise?

As the conversation unfolds, you grapple with conflicting emotions. The warmth of nostalgia battles the cold reality of recurring arguments. Yet, there's a magnetic pull drawing you back into the web of his charm. In the back of your mind, a nagging doubt persists – can he truly change, or is this just a fleeting moment of remorse before the inevitable repetition of mistakes?

I need to tell you something," you declared, halting him mid-apology. The dim light in the room flickered as you spoke.

"Y/N, please don't break up with me. I'll do better. I just... I have a lot on my plate right now, and it's hard to keep everything in my head."

Your response was a cold dismissal of his plea. "Vernon came over last night... when you didn't show up," you confessed, the weight of the unspoken tension hanging in the room. "And he's still here."

The room felt smaller in the thick silence that followed. His face turned serious, the shadows accentuating the lines of worry. "Why?"

"He called me, and I let him come over."

His voice dropped to a hushed tone, a mix of concern and disbelief. "Where did he sleep?"

"Not in my bed."

"Our bed," he corrected sharply, the offense palpable in the charged atmosphere of the room. The faint hum of distant traffic outside underscored the gravity of the situation as the words hung between you, heavy and unresolved.

“I think that only counts when we sleep together in it, which we haven't done in a while."

His eyes narrowed, searching yours for an explanation. "Why would you let him stay, especially after everything?"

"He was worried about me," you replied, avoiding his gaze. "We just talked. Nothing happened."

"What, so is Vernon my replacement or something? I forget one fucking date, and you're already messing with other guys?"

"First of all, I never said we did anything. Is that the type of person you see me as?"

"If you didn't do anything, then why did you even tell me he was there?"

He had a point.

"We fell asleep together on the couch, but let's not pretend like I'm blowing this out of proportion. I've tried so hard to spend time with you, and you always find a way not to show up. If anybody should be suspicious, it's me." Your voice wavered as tears welled up, guilt and pain mixing into a tumultuous emotion. Mark fell silent, leaving you desperate to know what thoughts lingered in his head amid the heavy atmosphere

“Do you want to be with someone else?”

"No," you whispered weakly, your love for Mark battling against the frustration of his distant demeanor. The past few hours with Vernon seemed to overshadow the last three months with Mark, leaving a bitter taste in your heart.

"Do you have feelings for Vernon?"

Opting for silence, you clamped your mouth shut, a choice that only fueled Mark's anger.

"One night," he chuckled bitterly. "One night is all it took?"

"No," you asserted, your voice gaining strength. "It didn't happen last night. I didn't just spend a night with Vernon and develop feelings for him. But what I did understand is that relationships don't have to be like ours. Boys don't have to be emotionless and not care about how their significant other feels. That's what you do, Mark, and you get mad when I hold you accountable for it."

"If you wanna have Vernon, have him."

Frustration reached its peak. "Do you hear yourself?" Another cry escaped your throat. "You automatically want to disrespect me instead of trying to fix us."

"I'm not trying to, y/n! But I'm pissed! No, I'm not gonna be the greatest boyfriend in the world, but you knew that when we fell in love. You knew, and you let me fall for you anyway."

"So it's my fault?"

"Fuck!" he yelled, and the phone disconnected.

Now you sat, surrounded by a puddle of tears, knees pulled to your chest.

"Can I come in?" a raspy voice whispered from behind the door. Vernon's brown locks peeked through.

You nodded, leaning your head on his shoulder the moment he sat beside you.

"It's going to be okay," he whispered, rubbing your back softly.

"Vernon..." you looked at him, your gaze drifting to his lips. In an instant, they connected with yours, and as the kiss unfolded, everything else faded into darkness.

You jolted awake, gasping for air, heart pounding in your chest. Your frantic gaze darted to the right, relief washing over you as you found Vernon still peacefully asleep beside you.

"It was just a dream..."

Attempting to steady your racing heart, you reached for your phone, only to be met with the exact message that had haunted your nightmare. A shiver ran down your spine, your hand instinctively moving to your chest in an attempt to calm the rapid beats.

Just as the unsettling reality sank in, a knock echoed through the room. Your eyes widened in disbelief.

"Baby, it's me," Mark's voice pleaded from behind the door. "Please let me in."

Shit. The weight of the situation pressed down on you, the tangled emotions of the dream blending with the harsh reality unfolding at your doorstep.

#kpop black reader #nct imagines #mark nct #mark imagines #kpop x black reader #nct 127 #nct imagine #nct mark #seventeen black reader #seventeen imagines #vernon imagines #vernon #seventeen x poc reader #seventeen x black reader #seventeen imagine

88 notes · View notes

moonlightdreamzz · 9 months

Text

🎧 ➤ What Was I Made For by Billie Eilish

“What?” Jisung is frantic and his voice cracks as he speaks. He’s trying so hard to contain his emotions, but it’s obvious he’s incredibly hurt. His eyes refuse to stay still, his breathing is erratic, and the metaphoric sun that usually rested over his head when he was talking to you has turned into clouds.

You want to look at him longer, yet. your eyes can’t help but to linger towards yourself in the corner of the FaceTime call. The bags beneath your eyes are quite dark, and you try to find some light in your eyes, but there is none. No one, not even him can deny the fact that you are absolutely drained, both physically and mentally. He’s been pestering you for weeks now, all in attempt for you to tell him something, but truthfully you don’t know what’s going on either.

You’ve known Jisung since the both of you were sixteen years old, you started dating when you turned twenty, and now you’re twenty-one. On Fridays, he buys you dinner and every Sunday, he gives you a bouquet of roses. Every night, no matter how tired he is, he calls you to say goodnight. He tries. He's an incredible person, and you know that anyone would be lucky to be cared for by him, so why isn’t it enough anymore?

This feeling—you wouldn’t wish it on anyone. Just a few months ago were you so open and full of life. The best way you can describe it is…numb. And you’ve done every possible thing you could to feel, but you can’t.

“Whatever is going on, I can handle it. What I can’t handle is us not being together.”

Your heart pangs in your chest and sorrowful smile now rests on your face. You’ve only seen Jisung this emotional two times—the first being when he considered leaving Dream due to stress, the second being the day he told you he loved you for the first time, and now you have this to add to the list.

“It just doesn’t make sense to be together when I never see you, Jisung. When I need you, but can’t have you. I’d rather be alone.”

“Where is this coming from?! I love you, Y/N. I’ve been trying to be here for you in the best way I can. You know that.”

You have a million things you want to say, but all of it will hurt him, and you don’t want to hurt him more than you already have. You dwelled on this for so long, wondering if you’ll regret this once you get better, but you’re not better right now, so that doesn’t matter. Your finger gently hangs up the phone, turning it off. All of sudden, you feel an ache that explodes throughout your entire body. Your lips are quivering, and your tearducks release what feels like years of imprisoned tears down your cheek. You’re laughing and sobbing at the same time because of course—after months of being clogged and numb, it’s only right that Jisung is the one thing that can make you feel.

81 notes · View notes

moonlightdreamzz · 9 months

Text

DUALITY W/ HONGJOONG (S)

REQUEST ✰ “Can you pls write one where he is super kind/nice and quiet in person but behind closed doors they're nasty asf & dominant😭 preferably w yunho, yuta, hongjoong, or mark)🥲or anybody you'd like! :D”

“You want more?”

The two of you are currently at the final destination of your double date—a buffet, and you’re absolutely stuffed. Hongjoong's eyes are warm and submissive as they search yours for a sincere answer, and yet, before you can utter a word he kisses your forehead tenderly before grabbing your cup and taking it to the nearby machine to refill it. You giggle as he walks away, embarrassed by how well he knows you. His prince charming act is also quite comedic, considering his handprint is still on your ass cheek from your festivities last night. It stings, real bad by the way. It doesn’t take long for him to return back to the table, your infamous drink combination filled to the brim of your cup.

“How does it feel to have the sweetest boyfriend in the world?” Your friend, Jaz, questions, which causes her date for the night, San, to bump her shoulder lightly in fake offense.

“Yeah, Y/N. How does it feel to have the sweetest boyfriend in the world?” Hongjoong repeats, his head titling in a manner that seems so innocent. His smirk even seems boyish as he places his straw in his mouth to hydrate, but under the table, his hand is rubbing the inside of your though seductively, encouraging you to answer wisely if you didn’t want to spend the rest of the night begging him to please you.

“Oh,” Your adorn, looking off into the distance dramatically, “He’s the best. I never have to ask for a thing. It’s like he can read my mind.”

His hand softly pats your leg, signifying that you did an outstanding job. He'd certainly whisper "good girl" in your ear if they weren't here, but that's okay. You're patient, and you know you'll be hearing that all night once the two of you go home—if he chooses to reward you tonight, of course.

The four of you continue wrapping up your dinner with you sharing some of your unhealthily sweet stories about your boyfriend. He of course is loving every second of it, but stays humble through your bragging.

“I just love her so much, you know? I just wanna do any and everything for her.” Is all he can respond verbally. His eyes say a multitude of things, though—some sentences you understand without question, and some you know will get answered soon.

The second the door locks behind Hongjoong in your apartment does he instruct you to go wash up, promising you that he’ll be there soon. You learned a long time ago that you can never trust what he says when he’s hungry for you, which is why you’re not surprised when he never shows up. After ensuring everything he may explore, or not, is clean, you put your silk robe on and head into your bedroom. There’s a multitude of objects spread out on your bed, and your knees become weak as you notice it’s all toys and objects that make your body scream in the best way. A shirtless Hongjoong is also on the bed, and you know he’s testing you.

“I want you.” You quickly spit out before he even gives you an option.

He stands, removing his clothes one by one while chuckling proudly. “I know.” He presses a painfully gentle kiss to the side of your head, staying there for a moment. “But you can’t have everything you want, remember?” He teases, “So I’m going to take a shower, and you’re going to pick a toy. When I come back out, are you gonna be ready?”

“Yes.” You breathe out.

He begins to walk away, and you know you should let him. You won tonight, but would you be you if you behaved?

“But doesn’t the best, sweetest boyfriend in the world, give his girl whatever she wants? Hm?”

The silence in the room is so thick, you don’t know how you’re still standing. The smirk on your face cannot be wiped away as you wait in anticipation for what he’s going to do next.

“You love talking shit, huh? Come back in the shower.” He demands, and you follow suit without hesitation, this time.

#ateez #hongjoong smut #hongjoong #kpop black reader #ateez imagines #ateez x reader #ateez headcanons #hongjoong imagines #kpop x black reader #ateez x black reader #ateez scenarios

230 notes · View notes

moonlightdreamzz · 9 months

Text

Changbin can’t conceal his concerned, yet tender smile as he watches you stare into nothingness, trying to catch your breath. You just got off the phone with your doting mother, who you both love tremendously, but who was also really good at stressing you the fuck out. He heard nothing she said, but he heard you, and he assumes she called in need of your assistance for her online endeavors, with an added twist of unknowingly judging you as you updated her on your life.

“Breathe, baby.” He speaks, hopping off your marbled counter and striding towards you.

You exhale and chuckle embarrassingly simultaneously. “I’m trying.” You want to make eye contact with your boyfriend to give him some sort of reassurance that you’re okay, but you’re not, and lately every little thing has been setting you off. Your hands don’t even know what to do with themselves. All you know is that you want to calm down, and relinquish in the joy you felt before your mom began to micromanage you. You know she doesn’t do it in malice, but that didn’t make it less draining.

You take another deep breath, shutting your eyes in hopes that this one will be the one to take you down ten solid notches. Changbin sits on the couch, causing a comforting poof sound to arise. His lips find themselves on the side of your head instinctively, and his hands began to rub your back. It’s relaxing, as is his presence and you feel yourself winding down, but not enough.

“I think I know what you need.”

His tone is devious as his lips move from your crown to your earlobe—his tounge swirling around it seductively. You’re absolutely still in a bad mood, but your throat lets out a shy giggle at his attempts to cheer you up. If he wanted to try and make you feel better like this, you absolutely weren’t going to stop him.

“And what is that?” You tease.

Changbin lifts you up with ease, positioning you so that your head is at the end of the couch. You’re laughing loudly now, excited for what you know is coming next. It’s been so long too, as he’s been incredibly busy. You want to squeeze your legs together in anticipation, but you don’t want him to know how giddy you are.

“Some head.” Is all he says with a smirk that drives you absolutely crazy every-time you see it, before pulling your panties down and getting to work.

#changbin #kpop black reader #stray kids imagines #stray kids changbin #changbin imagines #changbin fluff #stray kids #stray kids x black reader #stray kids x reader #changbin scenarios #changbin drabbles #stray kids drabbles

97 notes · View notes

moonlightdreamzz · 9 months

Text

As Mark lies next to you, you can't help but smile adoringly. He's exhausted, yet he's battling the slumber that's attempting to take hold of him, just so he can affectionately gaze into your eyes. Every few minutes, his eyelids close and his head begins to sink into your couch, but he quickly catches himself, startling awake.

His hands are at a respectful place, your left hip, and yours have been caressing his cheek, scalp, and neck since the minute he laid down. This moment, although it won’t last long considering he has to leave in the morning, is so fulfilling.

“Go to sleep.” Your try your best to make your smile warm and inviting. You continue rubbing gentle circles onto him, but on his earlobe now, hoping it will be even more confirmation for him that you’re not upset at his exhaustion. His hand lifts from your hips for a mere second in protest, and you smile deviously as you know his resentment is coming from a place of deep comfort. The longer you rub, the more tired he gets, and he doesn’t want to be tired.

“I’m good. Let me just enjoy this, please. I haven’t seen you in way too long.” He wines, scooting closer to you. Your nose is on his now, and you can’t help but giggle as he begins to wiggle his eyebrows at you, as if that’s going to make you stop your antics.

“Utterly in love” is the term to describe the warm and fuzzy feeling you get whenever he’s around. He’s as perfect as a human being can be, and you’re not sure if he’s in love with you too yet, but you really hope he is. He has to feel something deeper than like with you at this point, considering instead of going back to his dorm and collapsing due to his intense schedules, he called you, begging to lay up with you because “I just wanna feel you in my arms tonight.”

You force him down on the sofa and climb on top of him, pressing his soft cheeks into your palms. In a delicate and encouraging kiss, your lips meet his, and he melts into yours. His breathing is slow and easy as his strong arms wrap around your waist, drawing you in as close as he can.

“Rest.” You giggle once you pull away. Your fingertips try to close his eyelids, and for a brief second, you believe you've won, but his doe eyes open at you again. He swallows hard, as if he had a secret to reveal but doesn't want to be judged for it.

“Say it.” You whisper encouragingly, although you have no idea what he could have on his mind. You know it will be sweet and romantic—definitely along the lines of him telling you how much appreciates you for always being so understanding, but he always says things like that to you. So what can it be?

“I think—I really think I’m in love with you, Y/N.”

Your heart stops for a split second before restarting. You're sweating profusely and itching all over, but you can't scratch because you don't want Mark to see how he's eroding your frigid aura day by day.

"I know I'm head over heels in love with you." You exclaim, exhaling a breath you weren't even aware you were holding.

“Really?”

“Really.”

Nothing else needs to be said after this. Mark smiles at you in a way that you’d never seen him look at anything before, not even himself in a mirror. His hands are on your cheeks now, pulling you in for a kiss that shows you that there is no question about it—he’s in love with you too.

#mark fluff #nct 127 #NCT mark #mark nct #kpop black reader #nct imagines #kpop x black reader #mark imagines #mark lee #mark scenarios #mark drabbles #nct imagine

771 notes · View notes

moonlightdreamzz · 9 months

Text

THIN APOLOGIES / PART 1

SUMMARY ✰ Mark is your boyfriend, and Vernon is your best friend. You're sick of Mark not treating you right, and Vernon is too. He's also sick of watching from the sidelines when he knows no one can make you happier than him.

PAIRING ✰ Idol!Mark x Idol!Reader x Idol!Vernon

GENRE ✰ ANGST & FLUFF

NOTE ✰ This is actually the first story I ever wrote in my entire life three years ago. It’s my baby. I said to myself, I should rewrite this because the original version was written like the beginner I was at the time. I hope you all enjoy. It’s so good.

Blonde by Frank Ocean has been playing on loop for hours over your speakers. For what seems like days, your gaze has been fixed on the candle blazing in front of you. There are numerous reasons why you can't take your eyes off its flame—the first being that if you do, you'll be forced to see all of the decorations and food you prepared for Mark, who has decided for the third time in a row that you aren't important enough to show up for. All of his favorite things are strewn throughout your living room, unused.

The second reason you can't tear your gaze away from the flame is that you're intrigued. The lavender-scented wax is nearing the end of its life after being used for so long. What happens when there’s none left? Does the flame die peacefully? Or does the jar burn and combust, leaving you regretting not extinguishing the flame sooner?

Sick isn't the word to describe how your boyfriend has made you feel over the past few months. You’ve tried to see the positives of his absence right now, but it’s utterly impossible. What could you say to yourself? At least you got ditched in the comfort of your own home this time, Y/N? And not in a restaurant, or a random parking lot his manager drove you to?

Mark always has his excuses of course. His favorite one to use was that you don’t understand the sacrifices it takes to be an idol. When the two of you first began to have issues, you took those words to heart. You know how much he’s sacrificed to be where he is, and you never wanted him to think you were that girl—the girl who got in a relationship with an idol and acted like she didn’t know what she was signing up for. As time passed, you realized that he was just manipulating you.

He’s so good at it too. Or maybe he’s just an incredibly beautiful man, whose doe eyes could convince anybody that he indeed is a good person—he just doesn’t think sometimes. You just wish he’d understand that you indeed do understand his life, it’s simply his unfulfilled promises that are so incredibly frustrating. Summer Walker once said, “it doesn’t matter how hard I I try, I say it nice, yell it out loud, write it down, I’m tired.” She damn sure was right.

“Why plan a date you can’t come to? Just tell me it’ll be awhile before I’ll see you again.”

“I’m sorry, baby. I thought I could make it.”

Your phone begins vibrating on your coffee table infront of you, interrupting the reflecting that you’re tired of doing anyways. You know it’s Mark, back again with whatever his reason is this time for not showing up. For a second, you consider not picking it up. Maybe if he knew what it felt like to be abandoned, he’d stop doing it to you.

You inhale deeply before picking up the phone, surprised at whose name is popping up.

“Vernon?” You whisper to yourself. You feel a brief burst of happiness before immediately shifting to concern due to the time of night.

You and Vernon have been close friends since debut. Some would say it’s because you two are the English speakers of your group, but you only saw that as a plus in your friendship. In reality, Vernon was a quirky, artsy, adorably curious boy, and you always felt this weird urge to…protect him. You figure he was drawn to how you never judged him, and how open you were about what you referred to as “Vernon’s philosophies”. He got your jokes, and you pretended you understood his. The rest is history.

Laughter escapes your throat, scaring you simultaneously as you can’t remember the last time you genuinely found anything funny. In the midst of your giggles, Vernon begins to FaceTime you, and you don’t hesitate to answer the phone.

You can see through the phone how hard he’s trying to be irritated with you, but you also notice how bad he’s failing at doing so. The corner of his pink lips are twitching, and his hooded eyes are melting along with it as neither of you break virtual eye contact with each other. This only makes you laugh even harder. His flawless features don’t hold long, and he’s smirking boyishly now.

“You really think this is funny, huh?”

“Absolutely.”

“Well you know what I think is funny right now? You’re alone right now.” He jokes.

“Ha ha,” You laugh sarcastically, “Am I really this worthless? Like be honest.” You question, a sad smile naturally creeping onto your features as reality attempts to set back in.

Vernon’s eyes roll aggressively, followed by a deep inhale. You know him. He wants to tell you about yourself, and remind you of all the times you promised him you’d have more confidence, just to end up asking him questions like this in the end. It takes him longer than you expected to find kind words to say to you, but you appreciate the fact that he cares enough to spare you, because he wouldn’t do it for anyone else.

“Don’t ever call yourself worthless. He’s the worthless one. If he can’t see how amazing you are,that’s his problem and you shouldn’t just sit here and take it, Y/N. That’s not even like you.”

“But…I love him.”

“Yeah...that always sucks doesn’t it?” He says, almost as if he’s speaking to himself and not you. “I know it’s late, but how about I come keep you company Y/N?. You deserve to be happy for at least a few hours don’t you think?” He chuckles.

He’s no longer looking directly at you. He’s looking at whatever is below him now. Vernon coming to keep you company isn’t a terrible idea. Right now, you so deeply crave to be around someone who actually cares about you, and he’s a clear candidate.

“Yeah! Let me get dressed and I’ll come pick you up.”

“Do really think I’d let you leave your house at this hour to do anything for me?”

“Well, how else are you gonna get here? You don’t have a car and I know your manager is knocked out.”

His boyish smile returns, and you already know a sarcastic comment is closer than around the corner. “You ever heard of uber?”

Now you’re the one rolling your eyes. Was this okay? I mean, the two of you are only friends, but Dispatch nor fans would care about that if they so happened to be stalking you. Him coming over late could turn into a whole situation that you aren’t in the mood to hear about.

“What if you get caught?” You question, although unconsciously do you begin to tidy up in your living room.

“I didn’t.”

He didn’t? Was he already—

Your doorbell ringing interrupts your thoughts.

“Vernon!” You scream through the phone, so many questions running through your mind.

“Are you going to let me in, or are we gonna hangout from outside the door?” He snickers slyly.

You should have known he was up to no good the moment you couldn't identify where he was from his surroundings. All you saw was darkness, but you imagined he was walking around his neighborhood or simply in the dark, because that was so Vernon.

With precision and quickness, you run to the door and open it. You’re still dolled up; face beat like it’s prom night from the date you should’ve been wrapping up by now. Vernon steps in, and for a second it seems like he’s frozen in place. It’s embarrassing, as you often got reactions like this when you dressed up because without an occasion, you were going to choose sweatpants, a graphic tee, and crocs everytime.

“Woah.” He utters.

“What? You just saw me on the phone, Vernon.” You question amusingly before walking to your kitchen to grab him a water.

“Thank you.” He whispers as he takes it out of your hand. “It’s just…you’re so…ugly.”

You know that he thinks you’re going to hit him immediately, so you wait an extra second before punching him lightly in his stomach.

“Shut up!” You laugh, loudly this time. It’s a rare occurrence these days for anything to unconsume your mind of Mark Lee, but Vernon’s doing that with ease right now. “You stay your ass right there and I’ll be back. I should probably take all this off.” You whisper while pointing to you and all your current glory.

“Take your time.” Vernon utters, no funny business in the room now. His smile is gentle as he nudges you towards your room.

You began walking in slow motion down your hallway. “Oh trust me, I will.” It doesn’t take you long to strip down to your natural state. You remove your clothes first, settling on a gray t-shirt you’ve had for years. If you didn’t have company, you’d stop it at that. You decide on some matching gray pajama shorts. The sight of Mark’s clothes in the drawer pisses you off all over again. As you remove your makeup, you can't help but squeal with delight. The wipes that you bought in replacement of the ones that took way too many to clean your face, was worth the investment.

The final touch is your bonnet, which you slip on your head with ease. Your icy feet drag over the hallway floor, a flood of fatigue washing over you.

“Awe.” Vernon coos when you reappear. In the midst of you getting ready for bed, he carefully placed all of the decorations you left out for Mark out of sight in the kitchen. He really wanted to throw it away, but that wasn’t his decision to make. Netflix is waiting for two of you.

“Don’t awe me.” You plop yourself on the couch so hard you’re pretty sure Vernon levitates for a second. You push the button to recline your seat, shutting your eyes right and leaning your head back with a sigh. “Thank you, Vernon.” You say the second you realize he cleaned up your clutter. The room feels less heavy now that you’re not forced to look at your wasted hard work. You feel his gaze on you, but energetically, you can’t interpret why he’s staring at you. You’ll settle on pity.

“Ah, I haven’t done much. Plus, you’ve always been there for me.”

Your comfort turns into guilt, recalling all the times you haven’t been there for your close friend in the midst of you and Mark’s relationship crashing. “Not like this.” You utter.

“Well, no you haven’t surprised me with a big box of donuts and a new video game,” He chuckles, “But you’ve been there for me. A lot of times unknowingly, if I’m being honest. Your presence alone…does a lot for me—I mean, for people.” He rambles. “Plus, I’m one of a kind, anyways.”

A smile creeps onto your features at him teasing you lovingly. You’re beginning to doze off, which typically makes you stare at things unintentionally. Your target tonight is Vernon, who is sitting extremely close to you right now. Your hand begins to entangle themselves in his locs, causing his eyes to flutter in relaxation.

“Enough about me.” You protest softly, “What’s going on in the life of Hansol, hm?”

“Nothing much,” He whispers, enjoying the feeling of your hands running through his scalp. His eyes are stuck on the ceiling, but you know he’s still listening to you. “I’m like a robot these days. I wake up, go to practice, go back to the dorm, sleep, repeat.”

“Why didn’t eat make the list?”

“Oh yeah, that too. But you know me. If I have to pick between sleeping and eating, I’m picking the first option.”

“Oh I know.” You can’t count on one hand the amount of times you scolded Vernon for sleeping too much, even though you do the same thing the second you get a break from schedules.

“Too much of a good thing, is a bad thing, Vernon.”

“Not everything.” He whispers, seemingly dazed out now. You’re ceiling wasn’t that interesting. He has something on his mind, but you’re not sure if you want to pick his brain. If he wanted you to know what’s on his mind, he’d say it. At the same time, you’re his right hand woman, and he’ll just have to deal with you being in his business.

Your eyebrows raise in an interrogative fashion. “Give me an example?”

“You.” He says simply. His eyes lock themselves into yours confidently, but you’re unsure how to feel. What was he trying to say? Is he flirting? Is he just being kind? It’s always been so hard for you to understand him when he gets like this.

“What about me?” Is all you can manage. You’re not sure why you’re nervous now, but you are. You hope you’re not making it obvious that his comment has made your breathing unsteady.

“I’m just saying it’s impossible to get tired of you. ‘Too much’ of you,” he air quotes, “would make the world a much better place.”

“You think so?” You question genuinely. “Mark doesn’t seem to think so.”

“Mark is a fucking idiot.” He spits out.

“I’m not gonna disagree.”

“I mean look at everything you did for him today, just for him to not show up?” Vernon begins to frantically point in all directions of your home, including at yourself as well as your kitchen. “What kind of boyfriend doesn’t come home to this?”

Silence is the only thing you can provide right now. One because he’s right, but two, because you’ve never seen Vernon so riled up on your behalf. He was the one always talking you off cliffs, not the other way around.

“Sorry,” He clears his throat. His voice is back to his regular tone now.

“Don’t be. Thank you for caring about me.”

You don’t know why, but you feel a desire to nuzzle into Vernon’s shoulder, so you do. Naturally, he wraps his arm around your shoulder to allow you more comfortability. Maybe it’s wrong, maybe it’s not, but it doesn’t feel wrong being in his arms right now. You know if you consider Mark, you should pull away, but when’s the last time Mark considered you?

“Is this okay?” He questions, his tone a mixture of hope and concern as he’s likely reading your mind right now. He had a knick for that when it came to you.

“It’s okay.” You decide. I mean, who’s going to catch you?

The two of you lay like that for the remainder of the night, watching a movie that Vernon puts on, but you can't concentrate. All you can think of is how you're lying in the arms of another man, your heart fluttering. That isn't supposed to happen. However, your thoughts are brief because you quickly find yourself dozing off in his arms that feel as if they never want to let you go.

It’s the wee hours of the morning when your phone rings, and then vibrates, indicating someone has called and texted you.

You and Vernon sleep through it.

TO BE CONTINUED

214 notes · View notes

moonlightdreamzz · 9 months

Note

That’s fine frenn! We look forward to the stories. & are you open for any requests? I would love to see seventeen scenarios with black readers! -🧜🏽‍♀️

yessss please send me requests!!!! and thank you I think you will like this 😝🩷🩷🩷

0 notes

moonlightdreamzz · 9 months

Text

don’t beat me up when y’all see my next posts! i promise i won’t abandon star-crossed, but until I can finish the next part I’m gonna be posting a revised version of a story I wrote a longgggggggg time ago because it’s already finished. hehehe love you guys

0 notes

moonlightdreamzz · 9 months

Text

QUICK STOP — MINHYUK

<3 You didn’t think Minhyuk was going to have a day off and not stop by and see you, did you?

THEMES ✰ Angst w/ glimpses of fluff. Reader and Minhyuk have a very confusing relationship.

NOTE ✰ Seeing Minhyuk literally made me feral…so I had to quickly write about how it made me feel, but me being so angsty it just took a turn.

9:00AM

“I have something to tell you. Don’t be mad at me.”

You take a deep breath, your mind already preparing for the worst to leave his lips. The facial expression he’s currently wearing isn’t angry though, or guilty, which is making everything even more confusing for you.

“Wait, I’m sorry.” His palm holds itself up to his screen; a signal for you to not freak out like you always do whenever he does anything unpredictable around you. “We talked about this.”

Your eyebrow raises in synchronization with the smile you can never keep hidden whenever he’s doing anything in your direction. Whether it be staring, speaking, breathing, whatever; you can’t help it.

“Mhm.” You encourage slyly.

He continues, “And I promised you I wouldn’t say ‘I have to tell you something’ without proceeding to immediately say what I have to tell you, because if not, it makes you, and I quote, ‘want to slam your head into a wall’. So I’m sorry.”

Your laughter escapes your throat so hard that it hurts a little. Minhyuk is cracking up just as hard as you, and it feels like as soon as one of you has caught your breath, the other snorts, and all progress goes to shit. Your phone is now on the floor even though you don’t know when it fell.

“When did you get that phone? Like in January?” Minhyuk wheezes. You find it difficult to recall the exact duration it takes for him to regain his composure because you are laughing more than he is now. “This is like the 200th time you’ve dropped it. Speaking of, have you taken that old ass screen protector off? It’s clearly been through enough.”

“How about you buy me one, since you got so much to say.” You scold as you hop off your bed to retrieve his virtual presence. The moment you step onto the floor, a sudden chill zaps through your body, causing your laughter to briefly freeze in mid-air. It's like the floor is playing a cruel prank on you, reminding you of its icy presence as a rude awakening to reality. If Minhyuk was here, he would have foreseen this frigid encounter and saved the day with his thoughtfulness.

He possesses an extraordinary talent for predicting where your tired, exposed feet would seek refuge in the morning. Your slippers would have been here. If only he were here in this chilly moment, you think, a smile tugging at the corners of your lips.

“Cold feet?” He teases, as always, knowing what you’re thinking without you having to say anything.

His smile is brighter than you've seen it in a long time as he gazes adoringly at you over the phone. You're curious what he's thinking and what he's been up to this week. He certainly has been eating well, which warms your heart because he was constantly anxious before enlisting, focusing on everything but himself. You've missed him in every way, but you can't bring yourself to tell him.

The saga of your relationship reads like a bestselling novel. It's a tale of tangled emotions and unspoken truths, a rollercoaster ride of passion and confusion. You both know there's something between you that defies any clear definition, something beyond the boundaries of conventional romance. A connection so intense that it keeps pulling you back together, no matter how hard you try to resist.

You're head over heels for him, and he claims to feel the same way. But there's always a lingering doubt, a whisper in the back of your mind questioning the authenticity of his words. Is this love or just a twisted game? Can two people who share such an undeniable chemistry remain in this perpetual state of limbo, reluctant to label their feelings?

You feel yourself drowning in his orbs. Those beautiful brown eyes of his that matches yours are your home. You often think to yourself though, who else has found refuge in his eyes when the two of you haven’t spoken in weeks?

“You have something to tell me?”

Did his phone freeze? His eyes are clearly on you, but he’s not responding.

“Minhyuk?” You chuckle with a pure expression of confusion resting on your features.

He appears to come out of a trance you weren't aware he was in, blinking repeatedly to test whether his unconscious heard what you said to him. "I apologize. What did you say?” He asks, embarrassedly touching the back of his neck. Was he blushing? "I'm looking at the most beautiful woman on the planet. I'm a little disoriented right now."

That was another thing that terrified you about your lover. Were you even allowed to call him that? No matter, he talked so damn good. He could sell you a beach house in Idaho if you wanted to. Regardless of the confusion between the two of you, you trusted him wholeheartedly. Your concerns and uncertainties were cut away by his smooth tongue like a bullet made of gold, leaving you captivated by his alluring charisma. He had an answer for every ask, a fix for every issue, and a promise for every aspiration.

“I’m off tomorrow.”

You immediately beam, hoping he's telling you this because he's going to spend the entire day with you doing everything you enjoy. You may make him his favorite depending on when he arrives, but if he arrives too early, the two of you can find somewhere to sneak off to, right? You can also order takeout. Sure, take out—

Mingyuk took a photo

“I’m sorry.” He apologies, his naughty tone showing that he is indeed not sorry at all. “You just looked so cute smiling at me like that. I’ll send it to you.”

Before you can even start scolding him for snapping terrible pictures of you, you remember the second part of what he started this entire conversation with.

Don’t be mad at me.

“Why would I be mad at you for having a day off?”

“Because…I’m not going to be able to see you.”

Confusion always has to be present, right? You can't possibly be angry. If you told this story to anyone else, they'd advise you to be grateful that he cares enough about your sentiments to tell you what he's doing. It didn't make the pain go away, either. You can't help but wonder if he would come see you if you were his girlfriend.

“Don’t do that, baby. It’s not like that.” He assures. “The concert is tomorrow, and I really want to see you, but I haven’t seen them in forever. If they weren’t performing I could split the time, but it’s been a while since I’ve been with Monbebes and the boys. I hope you understand.”

What we’re you going to say? No Minhyuk, don’t go and support the people who have had your back since before we even met. Spend time with me instead, the person who you haven’t seen in months, isn’t your girlfriend, and probably never will be? You damn sure wanted to, but you can’t.

If he were here right now, he'd be softly rubbing your back, looking for traces of rage or hurt in your eyes. He despised inflicting pain on you. He'd press his lips to yours, expecting you not to kiss him back but hoping you would. Of course, you'd never be so unhappy with him that you'd refuse him his treasured kisses.

"Thank you, babygirl. You’re so understanding." He always replies to your devotion, planting a sensual kiss to the side of your head before peppering kisses on your neck.

You put on a brave face. He knows it's a ruse, and you know it, but you're not feeling charitable enough right now to fake it to the point where he believes you're actually happy with it.

“It’s cool, shawty.” Is all you can muster in the moment.

What was once a vibrant phone call full with delightful laughing and admiration has suddenly turned cold—or so the aura feels for you. You haven't found the words to bring the vibe from earlier back, and you know him; he wants to move on from this subject now, but based on previous arguments, he doesn't want you to think he doesn't care about your feelings, because he does.

You haven't talked to him in a long time, so moping about it is worthless. Breaking the silence was in his best interest, and regrettably, satisfying him meant more to you than it should have given how un-defined the two of you are.

“You wanna hear about my week?”

His smile glows through your phone once more, exactly like it did when you answered it the first time. You can tell he's sighing with relief. He's not sure if you want to keep talking to avoid feeling guilty, or if it's sincere, but he doesn't care. You're well aware of it. He always says to you, “I just want us to be okay. Always.”

“Now you know I didn’t call just to talk about me. Tell me everything, and don’t leave anything out.”

8:00PM

Despite how childish it seems, you promised yourself that you wouldn't check Twitter today. Of course you failed. All day, your timeline has been filled with Minhyuk looking so damn good. You two stayed on FaceTime for hours yesterday, giving you plenty of opportunity to admire his unrivaled attributes, yet a phone conversation doesn't do him justice, and neither does a photograph. You wanted him right now.

His white sweater suited his tan skin beautifully, and you were drawn to the way his muscles, which you had no idea had expanded so much, were attempting to escape from it. He’s the only man that has to ability to make you quiver at a simple photo of him.

Had he been here, instead of there, the second he walked through your door you wouldn’t have hesitated to rip it off. He wouldn’t have questioned you for a moment, missing you just as much as you’ve missed him. The two of you would have made love all over the house, probably until the morning time, and it would fill the gap inside you from not being able to call him yours—temporarily of course.

With Minhyuk absent, the empty house lies before you, beckoning you to decide how you will occupy yourself in his absence. Now is the time to contemplate and plan your activities, to explore the rooms and corners, and to find solace or adventure within the walls that surround you.

But you'd rather sit on your couch and do nothing, which is the exact opposite of what Minhyuk would like. He used to make fun of you for lazing around the house all day.

You have no recollection of falling asleep. After an hour or two of scrolling through Tiktok, your vision went fuzzy, and your grasp on your phone became increasingly shaky before dropping to the floor, much like it did on the phone with him the day before.

12:00AM

He hasn't been here in what seems like an eternity. Despite the recent distance between you two, his heart feels warm as he looks at the wreath packed with red tulips that is still hanging on your door. He remembers it as if it were yesterday—you couldn't believe him when he said it was what he wanted you two to make one for anniversary of you two meeting, because you never believed that you genuinely mean something to him.

He types in your passcode, stepping into your cozy apartment. Instinctively he inhales the brisk air that smells of lavendar and another scent that he can’t quite put his finger on.

As he looks around your place, he giggles to himself in adoration. “This girl…she really thought I wasn’t coming.”

Minhyuk hasn't even begun looking for you yet. He figures you're in your room, knocked out cold, because he doesn't hear feet dashing into your closet, nor did you try to come out with a lousy excuse for a weapon—yet another thing he chastised you for on a daily basis. He confidently strides into your kitchen, his eyes scanning the room, immediately recognizing the disarray that has become all too familiar to him. He knows, without a doubt, that your seasonings need to be meticulously arranged in their designated spots, and there are a few dishes lingering in the sink, patiently waiting for attention.

It doesn’t take him long to tidy up in there. He walks further into your apartment, prepared to pick up your clothes he’s certain you stripped off earlier before you went to bed, that he hears your little snores. When he sees you, snuggled up to the soft, cozy blanket that he carefully picked out for you a few months ago, his heart practically leaps out of his chest. The sight of you wrapped in that warm embrace brings a flood of joy and contentment, knowing that he was able to provide you with comfort and happiness.

His knees, slightly bent, fall naturally to your side with a light thump as he quietly settles next to you. In this moment, he wrestles with a choice: should he wake you up, gently brushing his fingertips against your cheek to rouse you from slumber? Or should he carefully lift you up in his strong, comforting arms, carrying you to bed like a precious treasure? As he contemplates his decision, he can't help but smile at the thought of tomorrow, knowing he will capture the beauty of the present moment by snapping a photo of himself holding you tight in his chest, a symbol of love and protection. Then though, you’ll be upset that he didn’t wake you.

His hands move to your shoulder, gently shaking you. Not to his surprise, you don’t budge.

“Kisses it is, huh?”

His lips continue to press irritatingly wet kisses all over your face, causing your nose to wrinkle up and your eyes to clench up like an irritated teenager. You try to turn the other direction, but he holds you down and prevents you from moving. Minhyuk is relieved that it's him in here with you and not some stranger, because your survival abilities are pitiful.

“Y/N.” He says sternly, although his smile is as radiant as it always is when he’s looking at you.

Your eyes begin to flutter open unexpectedly. You're not sure whether to yell, cry, or both. Your eyesight isn't the best, but even in your waking disorientation, do you realize who's standing in front of you?

“Minhyuk?” Your voice is raspy and filled with utter confusion. “What are you doing here? What the fuc—

His kisses you instantly, and whatever the feeling is called when you feel like your body is exploding with every emotion at once, that’s how you feel. You want more, and you attempt to pull him on top of you, but he stays put. You whine into his mouth, causing him to chuckle at you before pulling away.

“Don’t do this to me right now.” You protest.

Minhyuk takes a deep breath. The kind he takes when he‘s in the midst of making a choice that’s for the greater good, but not exactly what he wants to do.

“I want to do that. So bad.” He begins. He adjusts his collar that you just a minute ago had a very seductive grip on, and when he touches it he swears he’s right back into that moment with you. “And we will, but I haven’t seen you in two months and I don’t have long. Isn’t it wrong for that to be the first thing we do?”

“If I wasn’t crazy, I would say you actually care about me.” You laugh, absolutely and thoroughly in love with the man in front of you right now. This is the man who has captured your heart. This is the person who knows just what to say and when to say it. His eyes are sparkling as they take you whole, swallowing any resentment you felt toward him when you thought he wouldn't stop by. You can’t help but to leap into his arms, squeezing tight as you still haven’t processed how real this moment is.

He laughs as well, but his tone his somber as well as his smile. “Why do you always say that?” He questions. “That I don’t care?”

Maybe this is the reason why you aren’t his girlfriend. All you ever did was question him and his feelings for you. Minhyuk always said to you that one of his favorite things about you is how outspoken you are. How you’re never afraid to say how you feel, or how other peoples actions make you feel. But in this moment, and every other doubting moment the two of you have shared does it feel like all you do is fuck things up even worse.

He’s looking at you, but you’re now looking through him. Minhyuk didn’t mean to send you inside your head, feeling embarrassed for saying what’s on your mind. He really just wants to understand.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to—I was just making a little joke.” You attempt to cover.

“No you weren’t. And that’s okay. I just want to know why you always say that.”

You two couldn’t be about to argue after not seeing eachother in two months, right?

You don’t want to say the wrong thing, but you know you have to say something. His eyes are becoming impatient with you. You know he’s wondering why say such a thing if you can’t tell me why you said it when asked.

“I don’t want to fight.” Is all you can muster, shooting your eyes to ceiling. Let it go, Minhyuk. Is all you can think to yourself. The tension is getting thick, practically suffocating you. You just want to have a beautiful night with him. You want him to make love to you, and you want to fall asleep in his arms. You want to wake up before him, watching him sleep soundly before getting up to make his favorite breakfast. You want to tell him how much you love him. Not this.

“Tired of doing that.”

So, he really wants to do this?

“What are we, Minhyuk?”

Now he’s the one unable to find the words.

He pretends to contemplate. You know it’s insincere, because he looks to the left of him while he thinks instead of the right—a tell sign of him pretending to do something. He often did this when he was trying to surprise you with a date, claiming the two of you were going one place, when in reality he was taking you to some expensive restaurant.

“I love you.” He says confidently. You don’t know why you were waiting for him to say more. You want to laugh out loud, but you can’t, because the laugh will turn into a pitiful cry.

“That’s it?”

“No. I just—we talked about this, baby. I love you, and you love me, and we’re figuring this out. You’ve been through a lot with love and so have I. I just wanna enjoy this, because this,” he places his thumb to your cheek, rubbing it softly before continuing, “this is a beautiful thing that I don’t ever want to ruin. Do you understand?”

You nod helplessly. He knows that anytime his hands are anywhere on you, that his word is law. Being embarrassed about how delusional you are when it comes to his confusing analogies wasn’t going to make you come to your senses. You can’t help how much you love him. He makes you feel; something you never thought you’d do again. And you like it—no, you absolutely love it. It’s better than being numb and emotionless.

“I love you.” He repeats, moving his lips to your neck now. “And I want you in my life forever. I’m yours. We don’t need a label for that. Let’s just be.”

“Let’s just be.” You repeat, giving him more access and moving his hands to your chest, letting him to love you anyway he wants.

Minhyuk is on top of you now, and as he attempts to continue with your night, his phone begins to vibrate in his pocket.

“Just ignore it.” He breathes out, taking his phone of out of his pocket and throwing it behind the couch.

It’s his world, so you do as he says.

1:00AM

#minhyuk #monsta x imagines #minhyuk imagines #kpop black reader #minhyuk angst #minhyuk fluff #monsta x angst #kpop x poc #kpop x black reader

55 notes · View notes