Kiss Kiss / LDH

bucket list (love triangle) - mark and haechan

summary - you have a bucket list of things you would like to do before you die.

bucket list

you rummaged through the drawer of your nightstand, tossing out old receipts, rubber bands, and other random knick-knacks that you really didn’t need but kept anyway “just in case.”

your fingers finally wrapped around a thick card-sized envelope and you yanked it out of the drawer triumphantly, instantly recognizing the pale yellow color and your name written on the outside.

a knock on the door made you spin around and instinctively hide the card behind your back. haechan opened the door, leaning casually against the doorway, and smiled gently at you in a way that made you forget you were supposed to be annoyed with him for how secretive he was.

“did you find what you were looking for?”

you nodded before walking out into the living room and sitting down on the couch. you patted the seat to you left and haechan obliged, sitting close enough that your thighs touched.

you did your best to ignore mark from where he was standing just a few feet away. he had insisted on coming with you to retrieve your belongings, for added protection and since haechan couldn’t drive.

“it’s the card my dad wrote for me when i was born,” you said quietly, your usual energy tempered. “it’s been a while since i’ve read it.”

your fingers trembled as you opened the flap of the envelope and slid the plain white card out, the only embellishment being a simple watercolor of a few hydrangeas on the front.

haechan hesitantly wrapped an arm around your waist, moving slowly and watching carefully for any signs that it would be unwelcome in the moment. he relaxed when you instinctively leaned towards him, the subtle shift in your body language not going unnoticed by mark from his position by the window.

“will you tell me about it?” haechan asked softly, seeming to have forgotten you weren’t alone.

you opened the card and ran your fingers down rook’s scrawl-like handwriting. you swallowed heavily to keep the tears stinging your eyes at bay.

“nothing to tell really, he wrote stuff about how much he loved me already and couldn’t wait to show me the world,” you said quietly, your voice breaking. you cleared your throat. “he wrote a list of things he wanted me to experience.”

you grabbed a pen from your purse and proceeded to cross out items on the list, stopping only to circle the last one.

fall in love

haechan leaned in closer, running his finger down the list of crossed out words before pausing on the last one and looking up at you quizzically.

your throat was suddenly dry. you dropped your gaze towards your lap. “jay doesn’t count,” you whispered. “that wasn’t love. my dad would want me to be with someone who loves me for me.”

haechan tilted your chin up with a finger so you were looking into his eyes again. “i hope one day i could be that someone,” haechan murmured, tucking a loose strand of your hair behind your ear.

your breath caught in your throat and you blushed under his intense glaze. “well, you’re certainly, um,” you paused and glanced away to collect yourself, making eye contact with mark inadvertently. your body tensed subconsciously, warring with itself to stay in haechan’s warmth and ignore mark’s magnetic pull.

you tore your eyes away from the pained look on mark’s face and forced a smile.

“you make it easy, haechan,” you said, your own smile growing genuinely in response to haechan’s, despite the soft bitter edge in your voice and how it cut through mark like a knife.

I hope my mom heals from the things she doesn’t talk about

😺🐰~

just say it

summary: you think mark has fallen out of love. he insists he did not.

notes: swearing, was listening to sza's special oh gosh i just remembered mark liked this song from sos omg?????? will proofread some other time it's literally 2 in the morning here night night

genre: angst because i never write fluff! | word count: 1k -

“mark?” you called the boy who was humming the chorus of coldplay’s yellow. he was sitting in the living room after a cold, quiet dinner you both shared. he seemed to not notice it,

but you know he was doing it on purpose.

“mark.” you repeated his name again, in hopes to finish what is meant to be finished a long time ago. he didn’t budge. his eyes were fixed on the dried tulips that you used to take care of when you come to his apartment. you always scold mark for not watering them often, then now, here we are—they are far from being saved.

just like this one.

“i’m really tired, mark…”

mark suddenly tilted his head at your direction and said, “i’ll fix the bed, baby.”

“no”, you grabbed his wrist by the time he was already walking towards the bedroom. “mark-”

but he swatted your hand away and opened the lights instead. the room still feels the same. it smells like him—his perfume lingered across the room. the bed looks inviting but seemed cold. there sat his green hoodie—your favorite hoodie—on the mattress; almost wrinkled, dryly wrung.

mark opened his closet and brought out two extra pillows. he placed them on the top of the bed. “we always share the duvet, right?”

“stop this, mark.” you tried to protest but he kept crouching to fix the bed. he was smoothing it with his hands, trying to perfect any loose edges and all. he patted the pillows that you used to lay your head onto.

“mark!”

he stopped in his tracks and finally looked at you.

he was already crying.

“i…” you stammered but you cleared your throat to continue. “i know that you feel it, too.”

“bed’s ready, baby.”

“we’re no longer the same, mark.”

“do you want me to turn on the heater?”

there is no way mark is having this conversation, he thought it himself. but good god, you have to.

it was so difficult to witness how the bright smiles turned into faltering ones. the hugs he gives, they seemed like a chore. his eyes spark whenever he goes on a trip with his friends, and never to the plans you ought to make. him coming home and you felt honesty finally left between the two of you. he never smelled sex or an unfamiliar perfume, but these are just the little things that added to the pining, gradual changes, that turned so fucking bittersweet, it felt like it was twisting your guts every single day.

and you have already thought of it: mark has fallen out of love.

“i need to hear it from you so i don’t have to think what i’ve done wrong and whatnot—because i’m so tired; tired of whatever the fuck this is.” you were begging at this point. you heard him sniffling while wiping his tears away. “just say it.”

you reached for his damp hands and squeezed them so firmly. mark looked at you; so helpless, so naive, so vulnerable. he made you like this, mark thought. and he could never forgive himself for ruining you.

“please help me, mark… i just need you to say it.”

“i…” mark started to speak.

you squeezed his hands again, hoping something would finally come out; so desperate, so needy, such pleading, pleading, and endless pleading.

mark looked at you so dearly, with worry on his face; and the sight softened your features. it looked exactly the same when you visited his apartment looking all soaked from the rain. he scolded you for not bringing any umbrella with you. you smiled at the memory and almost nonchalantly, you said:

“help me to help you let me go, mark.”

but mark could not let you go.

every time you tell him that you love him, mark flinches. your love story is nowhere near the perfect fairytale, and uncertainties of the future have consumed mark to convince himself this is not going to last. but every time he pushes you away, you always come back.

why do you always come back? mark seeks answers from god, holding back his cries as he continuously and involuntarily steers himself away from you. what have i done wrong to deserve you; so good, so delicate, so dearly to me? he prays to god as he punishes himself, until the day you waved the white flag finally arrived.

but it would be too cruel, too insufferable, too immensely painful to watch you walk out the door. it would be too painful to feel your scent fading from his green hoodie he always embraces to sleep just because he could not do what his heart wants. the dried tulips, he tried watering them as much as he could, but they were you—so beautiful, so fragile who he wrecked.

so mark pulled you into a kiss; so intense, so desperate, so lovely, and so so apologetic. confusion and yearning consumed you as you deep dive in, but somehow, it spoke volumes—he has set himself free from the demons whispering in his sleep, the nightmares depicting him losing you in a crowd, and the intricate shackles imprisoning his heart.

“i’m sorry for all and for this but i can’t”, mark said as he now stared at your plump lips and back to your searching eyes. “god, i really can’t let you go. i’d be a fucking fool to let you go—not today, not tomorrow, and not in this lifetime or the next.”

you nodded. you understood. and that’s why you kept coming back because there was always your mark that remains despite the despites.

“i love you so much.” he kissed the tips of your fingers and rested your palm on his cheeks, leaning into your touch like a once lost child; so endearing, so passionate, so lovingly.

and you submit to him entirely because you know he's worth it, all of it.

“never ever let me go.”

uuuuuu mungkin tumblr be dropping hints now

“Maybe you’ve met the right person, but you’re just not ready to fall in love.”

— Unknown

bodo this was intenseeee

four seven eight

pairing: jungkook x reader

wordcount: 12k

glimpse: you’re secure when it comes to loving jungkook, knowing that your husband loves you beyond words. what you aren’t so secure about is his first love — someone who isn’t you.

alternatively, jungkook’s married to you, but he still celebrates his anniversary with his ex out of sentimentality.

[ part one + intermission + part two + intermission 02 + finale ]

[ major angst (pls take a break when necessary!!), no cheating happens here btw, some rlly cute moments i swear, jk’s a cold lover, emotional constipation + breakdowns, allusions to anxiety + anxiety attacks, self-deprication n loathing, miscommunication, based on the moral dilemma of whether or not it’s okay to be friends with ur ex, eventual redemption in the next parts :) ]

notes: it’s finally out and i can’t wait for you to read!! this piece is my baby, the rightful successor to heartburn <3 i’m aware that the last time i wrote a mini-series it was rlly heavy, but please trust me when i say that this would be lighter <3

as always, lmk what you think <3 send in feedback n love to my askbox anytime!! even replying to this post sends me over the moon :) | series masterlist

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One Hundred Ways to Say ‘I Love You’

“Pull over.  Let me drive for awhile.”

“It reminded me of you.”

“No, no, it’s my treat.”

“Come here.  Let me fix it.”

“I’ll walk you home.”

“Have a good day at work.”

“I dreamt about you last night.”

“Take my seat.”

“I saved a piece for you.”

“I’m sorry for your loss.”

“You can have half.”

“Take my jacket, it’s cold outside.”

“Sorry I’m late.”

“Can I have this dance?”

“I made your favourite.”

“It’s okay.  I couldn’t sleep anyway.”

“Watch your step.”

“Here, drink this.  You’ll feel better.”

“Can I hold your hand?”

“You can borrow mine.”

“You might like this.”

“It’s not heavy.  I’m stronger than I look.”

“I’ll wait.”

“Just because.”

“Look both ways.”

“I’m sorry.  I didn’t mean to.”

“Try some.”

“Drive safely.”

“Well, what do you want to do?”

“One more chapter.”

“Don’t worry about me.”

“It looks good on you.”

“Close your eyes and hold out your hands.”

“That’s okay, I bought two.”

“After you.”

“We’ll figure it out.”

“Can I kiss you?”

“I like your laugh.”

“Don’t cry.”

“I made this for you.”

“Go back to sleep.”

“Is this okay?”

“I picked these for you.”

“I’ll drive you to the hospital.”

“What do you want to watch?”

“You can go first.”

“Did you get my letter?”

“I’ll do it for you.”

“Call me when you get home.”

“I think you’re beautiful.”

“Are you sure?”

“Have fun.”

“Sit down, I’ll get it.”

“I made reservations.”

“I don’t mind.”

“It brings out your eyes.”

“There is enough room for both of us.”

“You don’t have to say anything.”

“Wow.”

“Happy birthday.”

“I’ll pick it up after work.”

“It can wait until tomorrow.”

“Cross my heart and hope to die.”

“It’s two sugars, right?”

“I’ll help you study.”

“Stay over.”

“I did the dishes.”

“You didn’t have to ask.”

“I bought you a ticket.”

“You’re warm.”

“No reason.”

“I’ll meet you halfway.”

“Take mine.”

“We can share.”

“I was just thinking about you.”

“I want you to have this.”

“Call me if you need anything.”

“Do you want to come too?”

“I’ll still be here when you’re ready.”

“Is your seatbelt on?”

“Sweet dreams.”

“I was in the neighbourhood.”

“Stay there.  I’m coming to get you.”

“The key is under the mat.”

“It doesn’t bother me.”

“You’re important too.”

“I saved you a seat.”

“I’ll see you later.”

“I noticed.”

“You can tell me anything.”

“I hope you like it.”

“I want you to be happy.”

“I believe in you.”

“You can do it.”

“Good luck.”

“I brought you an umbrella.”

“I’ll pick you up at the airport.”

“Take a deep breath.”

“Be careful.”

  And…

  100.  “I love you.”

his choice

summary: at the end of the day, haechan chooses you despite the distance in time and proximity. but why do you feel so... guilty?

notes: idol!haechan, long distance relationship, no amount of fluff detected in this fic lol 221130 haechan i have real feelings for you

genre: angst | word count: 1.4k

- “baby?”, haechan says on the other line.

“haech… hi.”

you were laying on your bed. it has been a long, tiring week. on the other hand, haechan was sitting in front of his laptop. he was trying to fix his phone, trying to find the right angle for you to see his face clearly via facetime. once he felt everything is settled, he just stared at you. he can’t help but smile at your loving features. you are still beautiful as ever, he thought.

but you can see he was also exhausted. his eyes were kind of droopy, longing for some good night sleep. but he decided to stay up to accompany you while you twist and turn, and find the right sleeping position until you fall asleep.

“not going to bed, haech?”

“i’ll let you sleep first, baby.”

then a faint smile slowly crept on your face.

you thought it was cute. he is still the haechan you knew when he mustered up the courage to say he likes you on that one night in that one september night. you thought it was funny, even. he cannot look you in the eyes when he confessed, shy and all. it was unusual for someone who is loved by plenty to still giggle and blush like a little kid. haechan remains humble, head on the clouds but feet on the ground. and that is why despite the doubts and risks of accepting his love, you took the leap of faith, and haechan never failed to make you feel special every single day.

but with the tremendous amount of work lined up in his unpredictable schedule, you cannot help but feel… sorry.

you would be lying if you say you purposely did not answer some of his calls because he was persistent to see you when he gets the chance to do so.

january 16, 1:07am | haech wrote:

january 16, 1:07am | haech wrote:

where were you?

you weren’t picking up :(

you can almost hear haechan sulking as you read his text.

january 16, 2:15am | you wrote:

just out, haechan.

january 16, 2:16am | haech wrote:

tell me about your day? :)

there were at least six missed calls that you refused to answer before this. as you watched your phone vibrating, you just wished he would… stop. it was also two in the morning from where he is, currently touring and all, while you just came back from work and slept. timezones, the distance; you can’t help but to wonder why he still stays.

january 16, 2:20am | you wrote:

tired, baby.

january 16, 2:20am | haech wrote:

just five minutes, please?

but you just left him on read. the way he waited for you to response as he replied instantly for your texts is already bothering you. you also clearly did not know back then why you would do such a thing to haechan until weeks passed by…

it never occurred to you what exactly it was until you have seen him yawning and falling asleep as the both of you catch up on what has been going on with your lives. you clearly knew it was guilty to have him around while he was struggling to maintain his life and work. the guilt rushed in when he started texting almost apologetic messages saying “i’m sorry, i fell asleep.”, “have a great day, baby! i know you could do it!”, and the recent and out-of-the-blue text message he sent that sent you the urge to hit the block button for his own good:

january 28, 5:55am | haech wrote:

baby. i hope you never get tired of me… of this. i know it has been a rough couple of weeks of us being in different parts of the world. you don’t know how much i want to hold you, kiss you, and hug you at every chance i get. please wait for me to come home. please never be tired. i’m willing to work this out. i’ll make time for you, baby.

don't leave me, please?

and by that time, you knew haechan has been also feeling you were about to back down. it is just that the assumed reasons were different. haechan feels he was losing you because of the lack of time and distance he spends with you, and you, on the other hand, are willing to sacrifice this love that you wanted to keep for a long so he could continue living freely.

so you decided to talk to haechan tonight.

he deserved to at least receive a proper goodbye.

“what time is it there, haech?”

“it’s…” haechan looked at his watch, eyebrows scrunched and all, “two-thirty a.m.”

“aren’t you tired?”

“not when i see you, baby.”

you felt like your heart is about to burst from being squeezed so tightly. you removed your phone from your face and let the camera face in front of the ceiling. you were suppressing your whimpers. it hurts to hear those words; those words that were carefully curated for you to be heard so you would be convinced he is enduring it all when he is not. and giving up the fight is only the answer you have.

“baby…?” haechan asks for you. “still there?”

“yeah, yeah.” you wiped your tears away and faked a forced smile for him to see. you picked up your phone and made sure he could not see any hints of you hurting. “just… picked up something.”

“oh, okay.”

you can hear haechan singing baekhyun’s love again, and you just smiled through the entire mini-show, exclusively for you. he loved singing and sharing his favorite songs with you. you were never a fan of ballads until he came into your life, and suddenly everything felt at ease. but you had to ask before you.

“does it get tiring sometimes, haech?”

“what do you mean?”

“this.”

he looked straight at the camera and stopped the music playing in the background. haechan kind of stood still for seconds, bracing himself on where this conversation is going. but he responded upfront and with no hesitations.

“never.”

“why?” you asked.

“because it’s you.”

“why do you still stay?”

“because it’s you.”

“why do you keep saying it’s me?”

“because i love you.”

haechan can feel the series of questions from you being said so nonchalantly and so monotonously. he already knows your walls are building themselves up as he continuously answers. it was frustrating to see that you were no longer convinced, that the i love yous no longer work.

“stop saying that, haechan.”

“it’s haech.”

“what do i even do for you?”

“you—you make me happy, baby.”

“just go to sleep, haechan.”

“i won’t.”

“why?”

“because i know i won’t be seeing you in the morning after this.”

and you know he was right. you were already consumed by the thought of leaving and convinced he makes himself strong in front of you despite the circumstances.

but haechan is not ready to give it all up, not just yet.

“listen to me, baby. please?”

you turned off your camera, and you can see haechan slightly panicking. but he had to keep his composure still.

“every day, i choose you. my heart chooses you. i come back to you because my heart says so—that you keep me sane. you keep me feeling things; that you keep me afloat; that you keep me human.” haechan insists.

“you are that tiny light that i see whenever i come back to my apartment; and when i see it, it feels like someone’s waiting for me to come home, baby.

you are that someone, baby. you love me because i can fall crumbling and all because you are my home. and you accept my flaws.

it doesn’t matter if i’m tired and all, because you’re… you’re my rest.”

you let out sobs and your cries were no longer able to be contained. haechan waits for you on the other line to open your camera, or at least say something back. he anxiously taps his foot on the floor.

you picked up your phone and there he was, staring intently at a blank screen, biting his lower lip and teary-eyed.

“loving someone is a choice.

and every day, i choose you.”

and before you end the call, you heard him saying:

"i love you so much.

come back to me, baby, please?”

would you?

i cried...i hate this...😭😭😭😭😭😭

“You may want me, but you need you.”

seokjin x reader (or oc) genre: angst; fluff word count: 1.7K

a/n: This drabble includes talks of therapy and anxiety so possible trigger warning. In this, Poopsie is just kind of realizing her struggles with her insecurities and how she projects it onto Jin. And as always, Jin is an absolute sweetheart. Thanks for reading, I hope you all enjoy! :))

YOU were doing it again. You knew you were. Jin was just busy, his job was stressful at the moment. They were preparing for a fucking comeback, for godsake, it wasn’t about you.

But you couldn’t stop yourself from sending the text.

You: Can we talk when you get here? If you’re even still coming over.

It wasn’t volatile or aggressive, but you knew he’d read it and know that you were upset, and therefore you’d receive his attention, and that’s all you wanted. Well, that’s what you thought you wanted.

Waiting for the response was the worst, because you couldn’t take your text back. Your emotions were high when you sent it and you knew it was a destructive thing to do, but it felt like the physical illness from the anxiousness sitting in your stomach wouldn’t ease until you hit send.

It had been fifteen minutes since you sent the message, and Jin hadn’t even opened it. God, you were acting like a fucking lunatic, checking the conversation repeatedly to see if he had read it yet.

Trying to distract yourself, you grabbed the drawing pad Jungkook left at your apartment from a few days ago, sifting through the sketches to find a blank page. The kid could draw, you thought as you appreciated his work.

Landing on a blank page, you picked up the pencil from the coffee table and began dragging it across the page. You were not an artist, you just needed the mental break that watching the graphite appear on the white page provided.

Half way through your child-like drawing, your apartment door opened, a very tired Jin stepping inside with his bag thrown over his shoulder. Kicking his shoes off, he lifted his gaze to find you staring at him from the floor in front of the couch.

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♪  :  billboard uwu - dpr cream 

[ ✿ ]   5:30 pm   — 𝐟𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐲𝐭𝐚𝐥𝐞 

there’s a wistful quietness in the air. under the fading clouds of midsummer’s sky, you and jaemin lie, side-by-side in a sea of grass; uncut and cold against your skins. your bikes lay asleep somewhere atop the great green hill, bags tossed aside, only jaemin’s half-zipped to let breathe a bunch of wild daisies you picked together by the whispering creak. 

“do you believe in happily ever after?” 

jaemin turns to you with a silent gaze, letting dissolve in his mind your question. for a while, he doesn’t speak yet you could feel his eyes on you. you like to feel his eyes on you.

“depends,” jaemin says, voice soft and cool, “are you in the story?”

you turn to meet his gaze, puzzled. “why does it matter?”

he smirks. “it matters. because you could be the misunderstood villain to my nineties coming-of-age movie, or the object of affection to my slow-burn eight hundred paged romance novel.”

there’s a softness in jaemin’s eyes that you can’t quite comprehend; the kind that steals your breath; the kind that makes your heart shudder. maybe his eyes are not the only parts of him that you like on you. maybe his hands too when he caresses your cheek and tells you; 

“either way, it’s not a story if you’re not in it.”

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