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@amourned
࣪ amourned. indie semi - selective barely managed by bon ² ( pht. 25 + ) .
࣪basic rp etiquette. minors dni. triggering & matured content don't save gifs. banned ( under cut )
࣪ roster. storyline active particpant of ic drama not ooc drama
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⤿ antônio + seolhee › @tenderlove .
from the hallway, she could hear the dull clink of a spoon hitting the rim of a porcelain cup, followed by the dry, rumbling laugh her father only used when he was genuinely paying attention. it had been ten years... maybe thirteen. since that specific sound had lived in the house. usually, his face was just a series of tired lines held together by smoke and gray coffee. tonight, there was a strange, wet glow in his skin that made him look almost vibrant. she didn't want to get in the way of it. people like her father didn't get a second slate very often, and toni’s mother seemed to know exactly which buttons to press to keep the man from retreating into his usual silence. when the conversation shifted into that slow, rhythmic cadence that meant the adults were about to settle in for another hour, she had slid her chair back. she looked at toni, then excusing themselves so she can show him some of the pictures she has taken. they walked up the creaking stairs to the old study at the end of the hall. her father had handed it over to her last winter when the tax files got too thick for the desk. now, the walls were covered in capture memories. “ let me show you my recent favorite, ” she said. dropped her weight onto the swivel chair, her knuckles barking against the cedar drawer as she slid it open. her fingers sorted through a stack of thick, unclipped fiber prints before she pulled one out by the corners.
“ that was from when i first met your mom, ” she said, passing the photo to him. “ she insisted on ordering for us. trust me. it was a very, very long debate between the two why the other should order, but... your mom makes really great points. i see why she’s the best lawyer the hospital has. ” the photo showed the woman standing by the counter of that crowded deli. “ she looked really beautiful. do you want to keep it ? ” she didn't wait for an answer before she started moving. pulled her heels up onto the rung of the chair, then slid down onto her knees, her knees hitting the faded oriental rug with a soft thud. “ oh, and let me show you the weird cat, ” she muttered, her voice muffled as she crawled under the wide oak desk. hands searched through a row of plastic shoeboxes stacked against the baseboard until her fingers found the one with the black marker scrawled across the masking tape. gunther. she dragged it out into the center of the floor, her palm flat against the wool as she tapped the empty space next to her. “ sit down. look. ” lifted the lid. the smell of old cardboard came out first. she began dropping the small four-by-six glossies onto the rug one by one, arranging them in a crooked, chronological line that stretched toward his sneakers. “ his name is gunther. he is always in the same spot every night, and look —— ” a sharp laugh broke out of her nose, her shoulders shaking as she pointed at the third print. the cat had started out as a gray, stringy thing behind the dumpster, but by the sixth photo, it was a massive, low-slung block of fur with eyes that looked at two different zip codes at the same time. in the last three shots, his pink tongue was wedged permanently between his lower teeth like a piece of ham. “ i want to adopt him, but dad won’t let me. so i just go out and feed him around ten. do you want to go see if he’s there ? ”
" you know, i’ve actually thought about that, " she admits, a small smile settling into place as the idea unfolds again, familiar and quietly cherished. " i’ve caught myself imagining a little flower shop, or maybe a place like this where i could sell bread and cookies. maybe even both, " continues, a hint of enthusiasm warming her voice, something soft but genuine as it slips through, unguarded. it is not a distant dream in the way some things are, not something she speaks about lightly and forgets, but rather something she has turned over in her mind more than once, something that lingers because it feels possible in a way she does not quite question. " maybe in the future, if i ever get tired of writing stories. for now, that’s enough for me, " and there is a quiet contentment in that, a sense of balance she has learned to value, keeping these softer desires close as something she can return to without urgency, letting them exist as they are. perhaps it is better this way, to keep them as hobbies, to let them remain gentle parts of her life rather than something that demands more of her than she is ready to give, and she finds comfort in that, in cooking for the people she loves, in choosing flowers with care and meaning, in offering small, thoughtful pieces of herself without needing to turn them into something larger. " next time, you should come over. i’ll make tea for you, and i’ll take care of the flowers too. i think i can get pretty close to this. " the invitation soft but sincere, something she offers easily now that she knows a little more, that she understands what might bring a quiet kind of happiness.
the enthusiasm she hears in return settles something inside her, easing a tension she had not fully acknowledged until it begins to fade. she has always been careful with this part of herself, aware of how easily her affection can spill over, how quickly she can invest herself in the people she cares about, and how that can sometimes feel too much, too soon, something that others might not know how to receive, but here it does not seem to falter, and that alone makes her feel a little more certain in what she offers. " yeah, it’s true. i thought it would be a nice way to start our friendship, " she explains, her tone gentle, steady, and she lets herself simply watch for a moment, listening without interruption, without judgment, because she understands that kind of uncertainty, the way it can exist quietly in the background, persistent and uninvited. her smile returns, softer this time, carrying something thoughtful within it. " i think you feel familiar to him. but not in the way you mean. not because it’s easy, " she says, choosing her words with care. " whenever he talks about you, it feels like something deeper. like a love between souls. something old. maybe a reunion. i think if you had never met, he would have spent his whole life looking for you anyway, " and there is no embellishment in it, no attempt to make it prettier than it already is, only the sincerity of what she has observed, what she has come to believe about them. " i’ve always thought your story could make a really beautiful book. if you ever like the idea, i’d love to draw some of it, " adds, the thought coming with a quiet brightness, before shifting gently, something lighter returning to her tone. " that makes sense. i’ve never brought him here either, so i think he’d like the surprise. maybe you could take something for your dad too. does he like sweet things? "
a gentle smile remained on her lips as she watched the enthusiasm color areum’s voice. there was a specific beauty that appeared when people talked about the things they loved. the way their eyes widened, the way the tension around their mouth completely dissolved. “ and i shall always be the first person in line to your future shop. ” it wasn't a casual promise or something she said just to fill the quiet between them. when it came to the people around her, she was always the one who stayed up until two in the morning to listen to their stories despite her lids getting heavy or stood by the door holding the heavy winter coats. she simply loved being the person they could depend on, the one who showed up with understanding shoulders whenever the world got too loud for them. she didn't see the point in holding back her kindness just because the rest of the world was busy. “ i would love that, ” she added, her head tilting slightly. being in this space with areum felt entirely detached from the heavy, defensive grid she had to maintain whenever she sat down with sully or ethan. with them, her survival strategy was invisibility. she had to shrink her presence into the wallpaper, calculating every sentence three times before letting it leave her mouth in fear of the quick, sharp mockery that usually followed. here, the air felt thin and easy.
our friendship. the phrase hit her ribs with a small, resonant thud. before this afternoon, areum had simply been a character in the stories toni told. a girl who seemed too bright to look at directly. it used to make sarah's chest squeeze up with an ugly kind of jealousy. it was hard not to look at someone that beautiful and think everyone else would eventually leave you behind just to get closer to her. it took months to shake that feeling. spent so many nights pacing the floorboards of her room, staring into a glowing phone screen while yohan’s tired face blinked back at her from a video call. she’d talk until her throat went dry, unravelling every stupid, tangled thought just to hear him say she was overthinking it. had to force herself to believe toni wasn't looking for a way out, and that areum wasn't the type to break something that didn't belong to her.
a short, quiet chuckle escaped her. it wasn't born from amusement; the words areum used were just too heavy, too beautiful. she really was an author. she knew exactly how to sand down the rough edges of a person's concern with a single sentence. “ i don’t think it’d be very interesting, ” she admitted. “but... i’m not against it if you really want to do it.” there was a strange, small comfort in the thought of seeing her own life re-arranged through someone else's lens. “ my dad... he likes whatever, ” she said, her shoulders lifting in a brief shrug. a sheepish grin touched her face. her father would never actually state a preference out loud; his entire existence had been modified and rearranged to accommodate her since she was old enough to walk. his own desires were things he kept away and forgotten. “ but i do think he’d appreciate one of those cream sandwiches. he likes it when food is convenient to eat. ” she leaned her chin into her palm, her gaze staying steady on the other girl. “ you’re close with your dad, too ? ”
the further their conversation is dragged out, the more she feels herself boiling with irritation. disliking the way sam addressed things, having the need to give a constant reminder that she was well below him, in every given situation. her say, meant as much as a mosquito sound in the ears of those in charge of the business. “ i see, so it's all about keeping face toward them. ” it's a minor jab, slight tone of attitude present but, she was merely repeating his own words, just in a slightly different demeanor. playing it off with a coy smile, acting as if she needed to repeat things for it to properly register in her mind. that wasn't it. jina just wanted to give the male a taste of his own behavior, even if she was only able to do so, in a smaller dose due to the hierarchy of employment.
ever since her employment, this was the longest conversation the two of them have had together —- let alone connecting eyes as jina’s head had primarily been hanging low, respectful greeting towards the people who lived, worked and owned the estate. “ confidence is the key to success, is it not ? ” not really a question she needed an answer to but, there was no need for her to be humble about her own looks ; the constant reminder of merely walking the hallways of the schools she’s been attending, was enough to feed into a possible ego. however, jina wasn’t flaunting with it, she’d thank and then move on. found no satisfactory in rubbing it in others faces. but perhaps, sam could become that one exception if he kept being as cocky as he was right now. watching as male’s entire moving silhouette was shining with that central egoistic flair, that jina hated to her bones. “ got nothing to be mad about. ” words are almost sing-sung from plush brims, indicating that she was indeed mad about the situation, but her awareness of the situation also made her know that she shouldn't push her luck. the terms of the contract alone, putting her life on pause.
the comment about her lips are being swiftly ignored, the staring barely pulling out any form or reaction. sure, sam was a handsome guy but, his behavior toward her was such a turn off already. only audibly sound leaving her when grabbing for the pen near the papers, is her tongue habitually clicking against the roof of her mouth, simply unable to keep the mask on for any longer. tip of pen pokes against the paper, halting as her fingers then shifts the pages, unable to see a date of end. “ shouldn't there be specified how long this contract is gonna run for ? ” brow lifts, chin lifting to meet opposite hues again, hoping it'd only be a couple of months she'd be locked away from her reality outside the walls of their mansion. though, jina also knew she wouldn't be leaving here unscraped if she didn't come to terms with what was listed neatly on the pieces of papers. so, eventually her focus goes back and runs along the paper to settle her sign onto the dotted line. sighing, as if she had just taken her last breath as a free person.
posture straightens to it's full height, a hand rising to tuck a strand of her behind her ear, trying to act composed but, sam had unfortunately already seen the disliking she had taken to this entire arrangement. “ well, i am ready whenever you are, sir. ” a lie, but she knew she'd have to act the role, knowing she could take her frustrations out later when alone, able to contact a trusty friend from an online media ; that being her solemn surviving goal now. to be left alone, finish the tasks and then complain about sam's ruthless behavior toward her.
the click of her tongue was small, but it cut through the room cleanly. watched the ink dry on the paper. she had a way of looking down that was supposed to seem respectful, but the stiff line of her neck told a different story. the truth was, he didn't want to be in this office any more than she did. twenty - four, and he was already stuck playing a part written by old men in grey rooms. his mother’s voice always echoed in the back of his mind whenever he sat behind the mahogany: never let them see you stumble, sam. never give them an inch. his father hadn't even looked him in the eye when he signed the allowance check. the only reason he had a desk at all was the thick stack of papers his mother kept in a safe - deposit box, a collection of dates and names that would turn the family’s public relations into a slaughterhouse if it ever leaked. his siblings didn't have to deal with the ledger. they just took what they wanted. oliver, especially, carried the same bastard label but somehow walked through the hallways like he owned the molding. sam even had to dim his own numbers occasionally, stepping back into the margins just so oliver wouldn't look quite so dim by comparison. it is exhausting.
let out a low, dry chuckle at her sing - song tone. the tight restraint she was using to keep her jaw from shaking was familiar. he practiced that exact lock every morning in the mirror before breakfast. when she asked about the end date, he didn't answer. he just leaned his weight back against the edge of the desk, keeping his eyes flat against hers. silence was the easiest leverage he owned. if you stay quiet long enough, people get uncomfortable; they start talking just to fill the grey space, and that’s when they give up the ground. he needed her to stay. the company was bleeding assistants every three months, and if he could keep one girl at her desk for a full cycle, it proved he could manage a team. it proved he wasn't just a placeholder. the board had already whispered that he’d hired her for the face, a cheap rumor that stuck because he’d skipped the human resources meeting the day she was brought in. a sloppy mistake. he wasn't about to let them think they were right by letting her pack her things now. her pen left a dark loop at the bottom of the page. the scratch of the metal nib was the only sound before she handed it back.
he took the sheets, checking the signature once. the legal weight of the non-disclosure clause was a solid boundary; if she opened her mouth to the press now, the firm would strip her down to the marrow. nodded once. unclasped his hands from behind his back and turned toward the heavy double doors. “ follow me. ” led her down the east corridor, away from the glass offices and into the residential wing where the air smelled like old wax and linen. stopped at the third door on the left, turning the brass handle until it gave. the room inside was large, grey, and mostly empty. “ someone can escort you to your old place to get whatever things you need, ” he said, his voice dropping into the flat cadence he used for instructions. “ leave a list of whatever else you need on the kitchen counter. the house staff will handle it. ” walked two feet into the room, his eyes checking the window locks before he turned back to face her. “ you don't go outside the gates unless you're three steps behind me. your job is to keep the calendar straight and make sure the files don't end up on the wrong desk. you’ll give me eight hours a day, same as before. what you do with the other sixteen is your business, as long as you stay within the walls. we keep this arrangement until the current project is closed. is that clear ? ”
it’s been a while since the last time adhika genuinely enjoyed herself at a party like this. usually, after thirty minutes of shallow conversations and the never - ending flashing of cameras, her social battery would’ve flatlined completely. but lexi had made tonight easier. somehow, being beside her lessened the pressure. which is exactly why the change in her girlfriend’s mood unsettled her immediately. not necessarily because of the excuse itself — half the people at these events were always making up shit just to leave early — but because something about her felt off. without even thinking about it, adhika gently pulled her farther away from the crowd, fingers sliding carefully around her arms as dark eyes searched her face. ❝ do you need medicine or something ? i can text my assistant, she can do a quick pharmacy run. ❞ her inquiry was interrupted when her ex passed by them. her expression hardened, annoyance flickering across her features as she caught the smug little smirk aimed in their direction. she’d mentioned them enough times before — not because she enjoyed talking about them, but because there’d been no real way to avoid it. their breakup had practically become public property for weeks, dragged across headlines, dissected by strangers online like it was some scripted drama instead of her actual life. and knowing the kind of person they could be, she suddenly couldn’t shake the thought that maybe they’d approached lexi while she wasn’t paying attention. ❝ did something happen ? did they say anything to you ? ❞ she asked more quietly this time, concern only growing as she stepped a little closer. ❝ because if they did, i swear to god i’ll have them kicked out of here. ❞
the heat in her face had nothing to do with the champagne. she looked at adhika, letting her eyes map the exact line of her brow, the dark center of her pupils, already counting the minutes until none of this belonged to her anymore. it was an amateur mistake. she’d spent years managing her own detachment, keeping her pulse flat and her pockets lined, and now she’d gone and let the weight of a real person compromise all of that. it was the way adhika looked at her when the cameras weren’t flashing. the heavy, unhurried pressure of her thumb against her skin. the way she threw her head back and laughed without checking who was watching. she’d let all that slide under her guard, and now the exit strategy was ruined. a sudden, dry knot formed in the back of her throat, her chest compressing until her ribs ached. the thought of the ex handling the disclosure himself. cutting the line and shouting the transaction into the middle of the floor because the clock was running out made her fingers twitch against her side. she’d give the money back. every single cent, if she hadn’t already used it to clear the three months of back rent sitting on her kitchen table.
“ no, no, ” she said. “ adhi, can we please just go ? you got your pictures. you smiled and you shook hands, why do we have to stay ? you always say you hated this. you always say how much you hate these people. ” she let her voice climb a fraction. needed him to hear the exchange. needed him to think the plan was still in motion, that she was still driving the wedge into the right spot. her eyes flicked over adhika’s shoulder for less than a second, confirming the black suit was still anchored to the edge of the carpet, before she looked straight back. “ and yet here you are, rubbing noses with them. i told you i wanted to go. you'd rather i nurse this feeling with some medicine than just go home and rest. why ? so you can continue your hypocrisy ? ”
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⤿ woomin + hani › @soundtrck .
watches the crowd drift toward the entrance as if pulled by an invisible current, the spotlight she usually occupies shifting toward a man she does not recognize.. for a long second, she wonders if he is someone’s arm candy, just another generic fixture of high - society rot. then her friend leans in, whispers a name, and the past hits her like a physical blow. the boy she actively participated in humiliating. apparently, he just needed muscle to look... decent. she scoffs, the sound sharp and amused, cutting through the bass of the music. the irony is a bitter pill she finds delicious. she steps into his path, blocking his route to the bar, and tilts her chin up to meet his eyes.
“ wow, look at you wormin, ” she says. the old nickname surfacing easily. she does not hide the way her gaze travels from his polished shoes to the line of his jaw, shamelessly checking him out as if he were an item on a menu. “ didn't know you had all of that in you. ” she expects him to flush, to fumble, to remember the basement hierarchy where she stood at the peak and he sat at the bottom. there is no doubt in her mind that he is still that same frightened creature underneath the veneer of his current success. “ do you want to get me a drink ? ”
jaeha is always noticeably miserable whenever he's spent time with his older brother. the amount of time it takes him to recover is starting to get longer, too. he knows teddy is right, and that he should just cut him off, but... well, he's not brave enough to do that. it means he's being a bit of a shitty friend right now, too. he's not really paying attention to what's being said to him, too busy replaying jaeseok's monologues over and over in his head. ❝ huh? sorry, i wasn't really listening... ❞ he admits a little sheepishly, when his friend has to nudge him to get his attention. ❝ rough morning. ❞
@amourneds ♡'d for a starter
exhales a long, jagged breath, his gaze tracking the way jaeha’s eyes remain fixed on the wooden table. this distance has become a permanent feature of their time lately. he stares at the salt shaker. honestly, it would have been easier if the other had just declined the invitation from the start. “ well, you could have said no to having breakfast. you know you're not obligated to come with me ” he signals for the waiter, his fingers tapping a restless rhythm against the side of his coffee cup. the bill arrives quickly. pulls his wallet from his back pocket and extracts a few bills without checking the total. “ we can call it a day. i do have work anyway ” he stacks his napkin on top of the plate. the restaurant is loud, filled with the sound of clattering dishes and people shouting over their morning coffee. he stands up and reaches for his coat. “ i can get you a taxi. ”
desperate people lied. angry people told the truth, especially when they wanted blood more than they wanted protection. because something in the way she'd leaned in, the way her voice had dropped into that subterranean register, the way her eyes had burned with that dark, anatomical precision, told him she wasn't bluffing. bishop reached into his jacket without breaking eye contact, withdrew the small electronic fob. the red recording light in the corner died with a soft click. "there, just you and me." it took a particular kind of ruthlessness to sacrifice family. he knew that calculus intimately — had performed it himself once, in a different life, when loyalty and survival stopped being the same thing. "you're suggesting your brother's the symptom, not the disease. which means you've got names. plural." he tilted his head slightly, studying her with the same intensity he'd use on a crime scene. "so talk. because if your brother's working with the people trying to take your throne —" the word felt deliberate, acknowledgment of what she actually was. "then this isn't about fifteen million. it's about who gets to rule the kingdom when the smoke clears."
watches the tiny bulb in the corner. it stays dark. she looks at the metal desk and feels the weight of everything she was taught to keep quiet. she still feels the ghost of her parents' hands on her shoulders, pushing her to keep her brother safe no matter what he broke. it is a difficult thing, to be consumed by the instinct to guard a person who is currently aiming a knife at your throat. “ its never about the money, ” she says. chest feels tight. she hates that she is about to pull the thread that unravels the only thing she has left to protect. she wants people to keep thinking her parents were the people they saw in magazines. she wants the world continue to believe that her parents who cute the silk ribbons in every new hospital wing and occupied the front-row velvet chairs at every charity gala are the philanthropists who had been taken too soon.
“ the business is a front. ” she looks at the floor. she needs to be specific. “ we build, create, and research weapons. not just shells that cause smoke. but biological tools. agents that can infect minds and shift the narrative to destroy a nation from the inside out. ” eyes goes back to him. “ the people we deal with is not just after money. they want power. influence. its about who will have the say if a nation dies or survives. so yes, i do have names but they will know im the one who gave out the names. although i cant give them to you. i can certainly lead you to where the names are. i'll work with you, if you agree that i get to control what information gets out and how it gets out. ”
faint sound of oliver's chuckle calms the storm of nerves running through her body, like waves changing tides and instead rides the sandy shore in a soft and smooth motion. an ability only he held over her, the effortlessness of his mere presence making her worries vanish. this time, it was a doubt of their years of friendship could withstand the space of feelings, now, thanks to a kiss and the plead of her staying, made them bloom faster than dandelions in spring. his words confirms it, allows her to feel exactly what she had held back for so long. it causes a mirror of a smile, but because of close proximity and the tension created between stances, most of it is seen from how the corner of her eyes slightly crinkle, warming up the interaction just a smidge. “ the voices in my head, but i guess it's about time i shut them out. ” finally responds, tone more gentle than her typical chirpy voice. seems like this moment was bringing out new sides of both of them, hidden away from the public eye.
a few shared gazes already tells her to prepare, the palm settling firmly at the lower section of her back says to give in —- the pull forward is when jiwon allows herself to fully indulge in wherever instincts would take the rest of the evening. guy waiting for her at a restaurant somewhere, long forgotten. the only thing on her mind, was how perfectly their bodies and lips fit together. as the space between them completely disappears, arms are snaking upward and resting atop of broad shoulders ; one hand pushing nimble fingers through the hairs at the back of oliver's hair. strands soft as digits toys with them, loving how it was a bit extra lengthy. clashing of mouths is timid, explorative in ways that felt careful at first, as if they needed to savor it, fearful of one-time occurrence popping into her mind for half a second.
almost on cue, it's like male knows or feels it in how her fingers would tug just gentle on locks, digits appearing to signal for oliver to ensure her this was okay one more time. a swift motion and he's lifting her like she's nothing but a mere feather, an arm securing around him for that extra measure of safety, she definitely weren't needing as he's transports them to the softness of her mattress. the fall seems almost elegant and practiced, legs creating space for him to lay comfortably atop of her, as neither of them tries to part ways. it was quite the opposite. her chin would tilt backward and angle faces to deepen the kiss, everything acting with more intent at the new found position ; one which permitted for palms to travel places they hadn't before.
the way oliver's hand trails down her side causes her stomach to suck inward at the tickling sensation, corners of mouth briefly tugging upward in the midst of their lip-lock. yet, she composes herself quickly after as her own arm searches for a touch. starting at his waist, fingers lightly riling loose shirt higher up male's torso before peaking underneath, ghosting down along the warm flesh of oliver's spine to his lower back, tracing along hip and following the waistband of briefs peaking out to his stomach. “ o-oliver... ” almost breathlessly she calls out for him, head resting back against the mattress as she's looking up at him through half-lidded hues, pearly whites grazing her now kiss-swollen lower lip ; fingers slowly, almost sensually, glides along the belt secured in the hooks of his pants, toward the opening clasp and she then lightly pulls as its freed, urging lower regions closer while she remains eye-contact. “ let's never regret crossing this line, instead... let's explore it. ” other hand had remained, all this time, at this side of his face, whereas the pad of her thumb was now tracing along sharp features ; gaze following it's direction as it stopped at his plush lips, very specifically pouty lower lip, finding herself smiling. tugging down his bottom petal and futher down his chin before it prodded just beneath, urging his head backward as jiwon extended her neck upward, enough to lightly start to press row of soft, yet slightly open-mouthed, kisses along the length of his nape. the scent of his perfume tickling her senses, it was a very specific one she had once told she liked, very particularly on him.
the quiet of the room belonged to them now. for years, he’d kept his hands to himself, running the numbers on every lingering glance and every time she picked his kitchen over a crowded bar. he’d always found a way to draft an excuse. she was his sister’s friend; she was just fixture in the house, someone he’d grown into like an old habit. it was easier to double-check the ledger than to admit he’d been too stubborn to read the lines she’d been writing. “ i agree, ” he murmured. his fingers curved against her jaw, the skin there hot and damp from where his mouth had just been. the relief of it was a physical weight leaving his ribs. he didn't have to look away this time. he didn't have to pretend he was just reaching across the space to brush a stray piece of salt or a smear of sauce from her lip. he just held her face. the rest of the script went out the window. with the boundary flat on the floor, his mouth found hers again, but the rhythm changed. the caution was gone. every midnight he’d spent staring at his ceiling, every unspoken sentence he’d swallowed during their morning coffees came out in the heavy, unhurried press of his lips. his hand slid lower, the palm dragging against the side of her hip, greedy for the heat of her through the silk of the dress until his fingers hooked beneath the hem, finding the bare skin of her thigh. he only broke the connection when his name left her lips.
the syllable was small, a ragged catch of air that stayed between their mouths. his pulse was a loud, hammering iron inside his ears, the adrenaline thick in his throat from the sudden, unshielded friction of her body against the mattress. her fingers were already working the metal of his belt, the buckle giving way with a dull clink that fell into the sheets. when she spoke about exploration, about leaving the regret out of the room, his mouth pulled into a slow, lopsided smile. the knot in his stomach loosened. he didn't have to worry about the morning. he didn't have to spend the next three days wondering if he’d broken the only good thing he owned. it wasn't a trap; it was just an open door, an understanding that they could finally map out whatever this was without the old constraints holding his wrists behind his back. a low, broken sound caught in his throat as her mouth pressed into the side of his neck. her lips were warm against his skin, trailing down the long muscle toward his collarbone, her breath tickling the small hairs at his nape.
he shifted his weight, settling his hips down into the cradle of her thighs, letting the full density of his body press into hers until the fabric of his trousers bunched against her skin. he’d have to fix the dress later. he’d have to apologize for the mess he was making of her hair, but right now, his hands were moving too fast to care. reached down with one hand, tugging the denim and the briefs down past his hips in one rough, impatient motion, while his other hand shoved the silk of her dress up toward her waist. “ wrap your legs, ” he muttered against her ear, his fingers hooking behind her knees to guide them up around his flanks until only the thin, wet barrier of cotton was left between them. he pushed himself up onto his knees for a split second, his chest heaving as he gripped the hem of his shirt and ripped it over his head, throwing it into the dark corner of the bed. leaned back down immediately, his mouth dropping like a stone onto her jawline, then lower, his tongue trailing a damp, hot line into the hollow of her throat before his lips closed over the soft skin of her chest.
⤿ kenneth + seojun › @tenderlove .
the low hum of the refrigeration units behind the marble bar was the loudest sound in the room. narcissus didn't smell like a regular venue. there was no sour rot of spilled draft beer or the chemical sting of cheap floor cleaner. it smelled of dry cedarwood, expensive citrus oils, and the heavy velvet of the drapes by the entrance. leaned his hip against the polished edge of the marbled counter, watching a bartender polish a crystal coupe with a linen cloth. this place was a playground with a ledger attached. his father called it a trial run, a test of stewardship before the keys to the real family empire were handed over in the fall, but he knew the game. it was a multi - million dollar buffer. a beautifully designed excuse to spend six nights a week drinking top - shelf gin under the guise of market research. if the numbers stayed in the black by october, he got the board seat. if they didn't, he still had a summer of flawless hangovers.
the front glass doors clicked open. “ my man ! ” clapped his hands together, the sharp crack of his palms echoing softly. he took three unhurried strides across the floor, his eyes instantly scanning the new hire from collar to boots. the picture remi had sent over via text had been an absolute disaster of neon digital stickers, pink heart frames, and scribble doodles that covered half the guy's jawline. a scrapbook page masquerading as a resume. but the frame beneath the digital garbage had been correct. the posture was right for the room. “ finally seeing you without all the random doodles and stickers, ” he said, a low chuckle catching in his throat. he closed the remaining distance, dropping a heavy, casual hand onto the man's shoulder. “ i heard you said yes to working at the best club ever, ” he said, his fingers tightening briefly in a quick, welcoming shake before his arm fell back to his side. “ well, this should be fairly easy for you. our clientele has breeding. they have class. you don’t need to worry about the usual garage-party bullshit. no yelling, no broken bottles, and of course, absolutely no gross vomit around the stalls. ”
he turned on his heel, gesturing with a loose wrist toward the back row of leather booths where three small lamps cast perfectly round pools of low light onto the dark wood. “ and uniform! well... not a uniform, but sort of a uniform, ” he said, a small grin twisting the corner of his mouth. “ it’s basically a tailored suit. we want our bartenders and waiters to look beautiful. we need that standard. so in case, you know, some rich, lonely person wants an affair or a partner... you can classily seduce them .”
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NINGNING LEMONADE (Inkigayo, 260531)
brianna could read the façade from miles away. her job wasn’t to play detective— it was to follow protocol, get the paperwork done, and let the system sort out the truth. lying on official documentation could mean fines or even jail time if the judge wasn’t feeling generous that day. she knew the woman wanted things to move quickly, but brianna never cut corners. she’d worked too hard to get here, and this job was the one stable thing in her life.
her notepad sat open beside her light green laptop, checklist half filled. she preferred pen and paper over tablets. devices were too expensive, too easy to forget to charge. pens, though? she collected them. “these days even people who don’t qualify have zeroes in their bank account,” she said quietly. it was the unfortunate truth. the system was broken, and too many people gave into materialism without thinking about how to budget. she glanced back at her notes, voice calm but firm. “no, it’s okay. i’m just putting what you wrote into the computer. i keep notes to make sure i cover everything.” her pen tapped once against the page. “you said you weren’t unemployed. is that because you were fired? quit? is there a medical reason you’re not working now? even if you’re interviewing, we like to know. we check in after some time. i also would like to know if you live alone or at least consider self an independent.”
“ well, to be fired or quit. i need to get a job to be fired from but, i really don't haave it. i applied for fourteen. fourteen different jobs and they all laughed in my face. no one will hire me because i am, apparently, trained for nothing. ” the words came out with a small, brittle smile that didn’t reach her eyes. she tightened her jaw to keep her face from changing shape. it was one thing to realize her childhood had been a series of expensive, useless lessons; it was another to have a string of strangers look at her resume and treat her existence like a joke.
independent. she wanted to laugh at the word. choice didn't have anything to do with it. her father was currently running from federal investigators somewhere across a border she couldn't cross, leaving her stranded in a low-rent zip code with a name she hated and a balance that shrank every time she bought a carton of milk. “ i do live alone, yes. ” she nods once. her teeth sink into the dry skin of her lower lip, holding it there until the pain forces her back into the room. “ hey. so, listen. how far back does this investigation go ? ” shifts in the hard chair. the panic is a sudden, cold prickle at the base of her neck. “ what about you? can’t you offer me a job instead ? ” the pitch of her voice alters, the careful veneer of her upper-class accent slipping into a flat, ragged plea. “ i don’t need anything that pays a lot. just enough. i can be your assistant here in the office. if you have a spare room at your house. i’ll take that as the payment. i can do the chores there, too. clean the floors, laundry. whatever you need. ”
the room has the specific stillness of a place that has hosted worse conversations than this one and absorbed them all without comment . a borrowed room . neutral ground , technically . jun has seen a lot of fighters . knows the difference between a man who loves the fight and a man who needs it to survive the week . he filed that observation away the first night he watched this one step inside the ropes . “ you’re not being dismissed ” says with that casual calmness . “ no one is packing anything ” tilts his head a fraction . something in his jaw tightens . . . not anger , not quite , more the expression of someone who has already explained something twice and is now preparing , with practiced patience , to explain it a third time . “ let me elaborate , because that might save us both the indignity of a longer meeting ” hands fold neatly behind his back . “ i don’t represent the organization’s interests . i represent what happens when those interests are tested ” a pause , brief but enough to settle . “ the people behind this don’t need sentiment . they don’t need anger. they only need awareness . and what happened back there created too much of it in the wrong places ” dark hues stay fixed . “ what they want is control of the spillover . not the violence itself . the violence is already accounted for ” he exhales once through his nose , barely there . “ i am not here to argue what the crowd wanted . they always want blood , that part is simple . much like you just said yourself . what is not simple is what remains after . the floor , reports , footage that disappears or , well , doesn’t . the witnesses who remember selectively once they’re reminded how memory works . the officials who decide , quietly and expensively , that what they saw belongs somewhere else ” lets his gaze wander , among the planes of hard muscles flexing beneath taut skin . the fighter certainly enraged , still . he's trying to keep it direct , yet knows the obligations of laying intentions out flat . “ that is what gets managed , what gets contained , by me . and if it cannot be contained , it escalates and escalation creates attention . attention creates narratives . narratives create problems that cannot be quietly corrected - i’m not asking you to be different ” lower now . “ exceptional is still the expectation . but exceptional that repeats in the wrong shape becomes a problem , our problem . "
eyebrows knit tightly. he tried to track the words as they dropped from the lawyer’s mouth, but the logic wouldn't hold. it was like trying to catch dishwater in a net. either three rounds of taking leather to the jaw had finally rattled something loose inside his skull, or he was just plain stupid. he hated men who talked like this. he hated the long, winding loops of language, the heavy paragraphs built out of nothing but air and expensive suits. it was a sickness, the way these people had to complicate a simple thing. why couldn't the man just lay his boots on the floor ? why couldn't he just say stop fucking around and be done with the theater? the iron taste of copper was teasing his tongue again, a slow leak coming from the split in his lower lip. raised the back of his hand, dragging a rough knuckle across the skin to clear the red before it could drip onto his chest. he wanted to spit. the urge to spray the dark fluid right onto the clean beige floor was hot in his throat, but he swallowed it down instead. it wasn't about manners. he didn't give a shit about being polite to a man who didn't sweat for a living. it was the dignity of it. he didn't want to give jun the satisfaction of looking at him like he was just another rabid dog they kept on a short chain in the back of the warehouse.
“ so you’re saying just beat them up and not kill them ? ” raised his eyebrows. “ you all want me to beat them up to a pulp ? ” he scoffed, his chest lifting with a short, rough sound that didn't have any humor in it. “ make it so they won't be able to walk or shit on their own, but you won't let me finish the job? you won't let me kill them ? ” let out a hollow laugh, his head shaking as he looked at the ceiling lights. “ that’s some bullshit. ” wasn't trying to be dense. he wasn't trying to twist the man's words just to be difficult. his brain just didn't have the vocabulary for management; it only had the vocabulary of velocity, bone density, and the exact amount of force required to make a ribs give way under leather. “ and escalation makes you work ? so you don’t want to work ? ” looked up, his eyes perfectly serious as he reached down to the concrete floor. his fingers hooked into the collar of his discarded t-shirt, the gray cotton stiff with dried salt and the grime of the canvas. “ i’m trying to give you a job here, buddy, ” he muttered, his voice dropping into a flat, gravelly register as he forced his head through the tight opening of the shirt. “ you should be thanking me. ” eyes locking back onto the lawyer's dark face. a small, sharp smile pulled at the corner of his mouth, sudden and slightly cynical. “ so you think i'm exceptional ? ”
CLOSED STARTER : @amourneds . FEATURING: nana yeum.
she's sure this wasn't what the other expected. it had been years since they'd last spoken, even longer long since they'd last seen one another. yet here she was standing outside their door with a duffle bag thrown over her shoulder. nana was in a bit of a sticky situation but figured the details shouldn't matter to an old friend. "i was just . . . hoping you might be able to help me? i know it's been forever but i need a place to stay for a few days." a pause in her words. "i would've called but uh. i lost your number." more like she never really had it saved to begin with.
the face at the door takes a moment to click into place. it is a hazy, blurred sort of recognition. has been through this script a dozen times before. people drift into her orbit like satellites when the gravity of their own lives fails, only to vanish again the moment they stabilize. and it's very obvious with the girl.
“ if you would have called, you would not have been able to reach me since its been so long since i had that number, ” she points out. the air in the entryway is still. she does not open the door any wider. “ i'd be willing to help you but lets try this again, ” frame leans against the doorframe. “ why don't you start with: xinyi, i need your help. i know we're not exactly friends... ” she then waits for the other to continue as she muses her hand.
words to live by
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cat butler ₍^ >⩊< ^₎Ⳋ
" yes ... home. our home. " he was so willing to share whatever he had with her. anything to make her feel wanted and loved. it was his new mission. meilin was worth fighting for. hands lingered and held her face so he could look at her. she must mourn the relationship with her parents that now are fractured. maybe fractured beyond repair.
he took a step back and reached for her hand, pulling her with him down the street. " you could never bother me. " having her close was the best thing he knew. " come on, calling a cab would take way longer than the bus. look — it's here in two minutes and we'll be home in no time. " he explained as if he thought she would reconsider. gunwoo stopped when they reached the bus cubicle. " you don't have to talk about what you feel tonight, you know? i know it's a lot. we can talk tomorrow. no pressure. " but he was there for whatever she wanted to do. " i'm here for you baby. " distance is closed between them and he placed a s oft kiss against the top of her head. scent of her shampoo filling his nostrils.
“ our home. ” the words left her tongue accompanied by a practiced laugh. kept her face carefully composed, forcing the corners of her mouth up into a shape that looked like gratitude. her fingers found his wrists, pressing into the heat of his skin as she gave his hands a small, gentle squeeze. “ our home, ” she said again. repetition was supposed to make the reality go down easier, but the phrase still tasted wrong. it was a temporary fix for a something that had entirely blown out of proportion. when she first brought him around her father, the plan seemed flawless. a cheap, predictable stunt to trigger an argument and test the boundaries of her inheritance. she wanted to see them twitch. she didn't plan on the floor dropping out from beneath her heels, leaving her with a dead phone and an apartment where the pipes probably rattled through the night.
“ the bus, ” she murmured. her lungs felt tight as she watched the massive metal frame screech toward the curb. mind immediately ran through the grime of the interior. the hundreds of damp coats that had dragged across the vinyl, the grease left behind on the metal poles, the heavy, stale air of public transit. irritation started to prick at the back of her neck. “ thanks, babe, ” she muttered, her voice dropping into a softer, rhythmic tone as she stepped forward into his chest. she wrapped her arms around his middle, burying her face into the fabric of his jacket. the proximity hid her expression completely, letting her roll her eyes into the dark of his shoulder without him seeing the line of her mouth flatten out. the air brakes hissed, a loud, wet sound that meant the doors were opening. she pulled her arms back, her palms landing flat against his chest to give him a firm, forward nudge. “ go first, ” she said, gesturing toward the steep rubber steps. she climbed up right behind him, the smell of damp carpet and old heaters hitting her instantly. she looked over his shoulder at the rows of low, blue seats, her jaw tightening. “ can i sit on your lap instead ? ” she asked, her fingers hooking into the belt of his pants. “ please ? ”
