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cillianmesoftlyyy · 4 months

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The Ward Pt. 1 | Jonathan Breech x fem!character

Summary: Jonathan Breech is sentenced to three months in a Dublin psych ward after trying to take his life. He meets a girl and thinks he's fallen in love... but is this just a product of opportunity and loneliness or could it be more?

Warnings: Based heavily on One the Edge (2001) so there is already a lot of mental-health specific discussions. More specifically- mentions of suicide, self-harm, death, depression, anxiety, feeling helpless and alone, medication, vomiting, pregnancy. There is nothing explicitly sexual in pt. 1 so there are no warnings for that here. Please don't read if you think any of the previously mentioned topics could be triggering! Some of this is taken from my personal experience with mental-health issues so read with care.

word count: 3098k

1979- The Smashing Pumpkins 🎶

Up the Junction- Squeeze 🎵

note- I named the female character because I personally don't love using "y/n." It can take away from the story that I'm trying to tell sometimes but the character is supposed to be general enough to be whomever you wish.

additional note (sry)- One the Edge is free on Internet Archive...

Please read the warnings before continuing, thanks!

Jonathan made his way through the hospital corridors, glancing briefly into each room they passed.

“This is a pretty shitty hotel, eh? What do you charge per night? Whatever it is, I’m not fucking paying it,” he stumbled around behind one of the nurses and laughed lightly. They stopped in front of a room.

“This is you. You’re expected in group therapy at 4.” The nurse deadpanned and unlocked the yellow steel door for him. Jonathan poked his head inside the door and whistled low.

“Mhm, yep. Just what I was expecting,” he leaned out again and yelled after the nurse, “would it kill yeh to add some fucking color to this room? Fucking depressing.” He shook his head and wandered inside. He sat down on the mattress, the metal springs popped below and it sagged below his weight. He looked around at the drab gray room, the one window covered by rusted bars, and the bare bedside table. Jonathan emptied his pockets on the bed beside him and moved the carton of cigarettes to the table. A clock on the opposite wall ticked quietly and he watched it with his bright blue eyes, blinking every so often to the rhythm.

A second nurse came by and handed him some clothes, pajamas.

“What are these for?” Jonathan frowned, “I don’t need pajamas.”

“You have to wear them during the day,” the nurse responded.

“Why the hell would I do that when I have my normal clothes?”

“Its policy, it distinguishes you from guests and day patients. In-patients have to wear these.” The nurse pointed to the pile of neatly folded clothes in Jonathan’s arms. “Put them on.”

Jonathan sighed and kicked off his shoes.

“You’re not gonna watch are yeh?” He sneered at the nurse when he didn’t leave immediately. The nurse turned and left, closing the door without another word. Jonathan stripped down to his underwear and examined the clothes that he was given. It was a matching pajama set in an icy blue color with smaller blue designs across the fabric. The sleeves were too short and ended at his forearm and the pants around his midcalf. He pinched the bridge of his nose and cursed under his breath. He put on his shoes and the cardigan he had brought with him, a yellow wool cardigan that still smelled like home.

…

Around 4 o'clock Jonathan left his room and wandered aimlessly through the psychiatric ward, looking for the group therapy room. He walked until he spotted Dr. Figure walking into a small room and called out to him.

“Heya, Dr. Figure. I’m here for my group therapy!” He said with a flare of dramatic excitement. Dr. Figure looked tired and responded with a strained smile.

“Hello, Jonathan. Please come in.” They walked inside the room and Jonathan took a seat in a chair beside a boy around his age wearing a dark blue bathrobe. His light brown hair was messy and long and he wore round wire-framed glasses over his eyes. Dr. Figure sat opposite of him across the circle and cleared his throat as he arranged a stack of papers. Another boy and a girl sat at the circle too though neither of them looked up when Jonathan sat down.

“Good afternoon everyone, thank you for coming today.”

“I didn’t have much of a choice,” Jonathan shrugged and pulled one of his knees up to his chest in the chair and rested his chin on his knee.

“Yes, thank you Jonathan for coming anyway.” Dr. Figure sighed and gestured towards him, “this is Jonathan, everyone. He’s new and he’ll be joining us in group therapy. Why don’t we all introduce ourselves? I’ll start. I’m Dr. Figure and I’m the head psychiatrist here.”

“I’m Toby.” The boy next to Jonathan nodded his head and Jonathan smiled at him. It passed across Jonathan to the girl on his otherside. She glanced up briefly to introduce herself with a small smile.

“I’m Margaret.” She said softly and looked down at her hands again as the last boy introduced himself. He had headphones around his neck and a walkman clipped inside the pocket of his robe. Jonathan looked back at the girl, studying her. She looked as though she hadn’t slept in a while with the dark circles shading her downcast eyes. She was wearing a vintage nightgown, he realized, one with long sleeves and a modest neckline even though the dress was shorter than her knees. On her legs she had long brown socks tucked into a pair of duck boots. Her hair was brushed away from her face and fell straight down her back but he couldn’t see how long it actually was. She had a busted lip, he could tell from the bruising around her bottom lip and a scab that looked as if it was still bleeding. She played with the hem of her nightgown and glanced up again, catching him as he stared at her but he didn’t look away, she did. She flushed and stared at the tan tile around her chair.

“Now I’d like to pass this around and I want you all to add any recent fears or anxieties that may have come up in the last few days that we haven’t talked about yet,” Dr. Figure handed the clipboard to the boy next to Margaret. Toby raised his hand.

“Yes?”

“What if we’re scared of filling out paperwork?” Toby asked and Jonathan laughed. Dr. Figure seemed to genuinely ponder the question before Toby added, “that was a joke,” and Jonathan laughed again.

“Why don’t you tell us what you’re afraid of, doctor?” Jonathan smiled and Dr. Figure exhaled.

“It’s not important.”

“I think you’re deflecting, doctor.”

“Jonathan, if you’d like to discuss my fears then I would be happy to do so at a later time in my office,” Dr. Figure answered calmly.

“Oh, I see. You can analyze us as much as you want but as soon as someone asks the same question of you, you can’t answer, eh?” Jonathan crossed his arms across his chest.

“It’s just not something that I do with my patients during group therapy. This is your time to get better, it isn’t about me.”

“You know what would make me better, doctor?”

“What’s that, Jonathan?” Dr. Figure rubbed his eyes and waited for Jonathan to answer.

“I want clothes that actually fit. These are too short, I look ridiculous! And why do we have to wear fucking pajamas? How am I supposed to feel good about myself walking around in these, eh? And no one told me that girls were gonna be here too! Jesus, it's embarrassing.” Jonathan huffed and complained loudly, leaning forward in his seat sometimes to emphasize his point. He looked over at Margaret who was turning red.

“I understand that you’re upset about the clothes but they shouldn’t matter. You’re here to get better, Jonathan.” Dr. Figure crossed his legs and clasped his hands together.

“Now, if we could, please continue.” He gestured to Margaret to take the clipboard from the boy next to her. As she did so, Jonathan stood up and walked towards the door.

“Thanks, doc. That’s it for today.” He waved his hand and left the room, letting the door close behind him. He went straight to his room and sat down on his bed. Gray light filtered in through the window and he looked out at the rainy streets.

…

That evening he found the rec room and sat down by a window, bracing himself against a heater. Toby was sitting by the window as well and looked up at him when Jonathan approached.

“Hey,” Toby nodded.

“Hey.” Jonathan replied and opened the window but it caught after a few inches.

“It doesn’t open all the way,” Toby smiled, “they don’t want us to jump out.”

“Damnit, that was going to be my plan A,” Jonathan shook his head.

“What’s your plan B?”

“Wait out the next four months,” Jonathan chuckled darkly and reached into his breast pocket for a cigarette.

“They won’t let you smoke that in here,” Toby advised and glanced over at the female nurses speaking quietly near the door.

“I wouldn’t mind getting in trouble with them, eh?” He smirked at Toby who laughed. “Toby, right?”

“Yeah,” Toby nodded and pushed his glasses up his nose.

“Jonathan,” he patted his chest for a second and changed the subject, “By the way, what’s that girl’s story, the one from group.”

“Margaret?” Toby asked and Jonathan nodded. “She’s been here for a week or two. I think we came in around the same time. I don’t know a lot about her because she doesn’t say much in group. It must be hard being the only girl around our age here.” Toby shrugged and continued, “She’s had that busted lip for a while but I’m not sure exactly how she got it. I’ve talked to her a little and she’s nice.”

“And cute,” Jonathan added with a laugh and Toby nodded.

“Yeah, that too. I think she’s been through some shit.”

“Haven’t we all?” Jonathan muttered and Toby nodded knowingly. They sat in silence for a moment before Toby spoke again.

“You know I’ve been sneaking out of here a few times a week at night. I could take you if you wanted.”

“No shit,” Jonathan whispered with a smirk, “really?”

“Yeah. Wanna go tomorrow night?”

“Of course.”

“Ok,” Toby smiled.

“Ok.” Jonathan affirmed and hopped up. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“See yah,” Toby waved and went back to looking out the window.

Jonathan left the rec room and wandered further down the hallways, passing the women’s ward. There was one men’s bathroom in the women’s ward and he went in. The opposite end of the bathroom had a short tiled wall that ended in a ledge below a row of barred windows. There were three sinks on his left and two stalls on his right, one a handicapped stall. A single urinal stood against the wall. Sitting on the ledge and leaning against one of the walls of the handicapped stall was Margaret, reading a book. The dying light from the window shone through her nightgown, showing the dark silhouette of her body underneath. She looked up quickly and jumped at seeing her.

“Shit sorry, I thought this was the men’s room.”

“It is, sorry.” Margaret closed her book and hopped down from the ledge, wincing as her feet hit the ground. “I like to read in here.”

“In the men’s room?” Jonathan raised his dark eyebrow, his pink lips pursed.

“No one uses this bathroom in the women’s ward.”

“The male nurses?”

“They aren’t allowed to work in the ward… legal reasons.” She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and held the book against her chest. He looked at the cover of the book.

“What are you reading?”

“Jane Eyre.”

“That’s a bit on the nose, isn’t it?” Jonathan laughed and she smiled.

“Maybe but I love it. I love anything by the Brönte sisters.” She fingered one of the pages on the book and met his eyes. She had a heart-shaped face with messy unkempt eyebrows and she was short, barely 5”3.

“Did someone have you locked up in their attic?” He joked.

“No, though it would have made my life more interesting.” She smiled at him, her cheeks pressed up into her eyes and flushed slightly from the conversation.

“You’re cute,” Jonathan broke the momentary silence and her eyes widened slightly.

“You don’t know me,” she laughed breathlessly and brushed past him to the door. He spun around and followed her.

“I don’t have to know you to know that you’re cute.” He protested and smiled as she took the door handle in her hand.

“Don’t be stupid,” She frowned and he threw up his hands in surrender.

“Personally, I thought that was pretty smart but hey- wait! Don’t go, I wasn’t actually coming in here to use the bathroom, I just wanted some space.”

She looked at him for a moment and rolled her eyes, “word of advice? Don’t call girls cute, it's demeaning.” She cocked her head at him and left the bathroom. He left after her and watched as she walked down the corridor to her room. She looked back at him and smiled to herself as she went inside and closed the door.

…

Jonathan woke up early the next morning for his private appointment with Dr. Figure. His room was cold and he’d slept in a t-shirt on top of his covers like a child. He was shivering when he finally woke up and quickly changed into his warmer pajamas, gritting his teeth as he remembered how short they were on him. He pulled on a jumper and laced his roughed up sneakers. Stepping out into the corridor, he rubbed his shoulders for warmth and hopped down the stairs two at a time. He pushed open the door to the garden and followed the cement sidewalk through a row of tall hedges. The morning was cold but the sun was already in the sky and shining on the hospital’s grounds. As Jonathan passed through the first set of hedges he looked to the side. Sitting on a small wooden bench was Margaret, still reading Jane Eyre. She had on a pair of men’s blue checkered pajama pants and a dark green jumper, also still wearing her duck boots. She sat with her legs crossed beneath her and her hair billowed in the short rushes of wind. He caught himself looking at her crotch and snapped out of it. He stuck his hands beneath his armpits and walked over, smiling wide when she looked up.

“How was your first night?” She dog-eared the page in her book and squinted up at him.

“Not bad, but I woke up fucking freezing.”

“The heaters don’t work in the rooms. That’s why I go into the bathrooms to read.”

“Or outside,” he pointed at her book. She smiled and looked down for a moment.

“It’s part of my treatment. I spend an hour outside everyday, for the fresh air and sun. It’s supposed to make me happier.”

“You know they have drugs that do the same thing.” Jonathan smiled and rocked back and forth on his feet.

“I don’t take them… I haven’t for a few weeks.”

“Oh?” Jonathan sniffed, his nose already running in the cold air. She thought about telling him why she wasn’t on her meds but changed her mind. Jonathan noticed her change in body language and cleared his throat.

“Look, I’m supposed to have a meeting with the doc. Could you show me where his office is?” He cocked his head to the side, twisting his lips into a smile.

“You think you’re real smooth, don’t you?” She shook her head, laughing.

“Don’t know, it depends on whether or not you say yes doesn’t it?”

“And what if I have something I’d rather be doing?” She smirked slightly and brought her knees up to her chest, balancing her heels on the edge of the bench.

“Do yah?” Jonathan asked.

“Of course.”

“And what is that?” He brought his head back upright and continued to smile, “what would you rather be doing than walking with me?”

“Eating real food at a restaurant with warm bread at the table, or going to a library where I actually have a valid library card, or buying expensive ice cream that I can’t eat because it's freezing outside…” she listed off the items, taping her lips with her index finger. Her cheeks were pink from the cold and Jonathan imagined how soft and cold they would be against his fingers.

“What if in exchange for showing me where the old man’s office is, I buy you an ice cream when we get out of this shithole?” He shuffled his feet in the brown grass and Margaret smiled softly.

“You think we’re getting out of this place?” She shook her head, almost sad but still smiling.

“Why don’t we just pretend we are, for the sake of today?” He shrugged and twisted his torso side to side. She watched him for a second, trailing her eyes over his lanky body stuffed into clothing that was made for someone much younger. She had to admit that he was pretty but there was a reason that they were all in there, and Jonathan wasn’t exempted from that. She nodded and put her feet back on the ground and stood. Holding Jane Eyre in her arms she led Jonathan back to the path in the direction of the smaller house near the border wall.

“So, what ice cream do you like?” Jonathan asked. His sneakers gripped the pavement and sent small pebbles bouncing across the pavement.

“German chocolate,” she answered after a moment of serious deliberation.

“You know, I’ve noticed something.”

“What?” She looked at him as they walked.

“I don’t recognize your accent. You aren’t Irish.”

“No,” she shook her head, “are you disappointed?”

He smiled and put his head back, “No, no. I’m just surprised. You don’t sound British either…” He bit his lip, trying to place her accent.

“I’m American,” she answered for him and pulled her hair to the side of her shoulder.

“American? What are you doing here?” He laughed lightly and she blushed.

“I’m studying here for a semester.”

“Where?”

“Trinity,” she glanced at him, “for Literature.”

“Fuck, no wonder you’re depressed. Why would you come to Ireland for college?” He laughed and she blushed further.

“I just wanted to get away from my family and Ireland seemed like the farthest place from home… and you have a good Literature program here.”

“Ah, all the Irish poets and writers…”

“And Sinead O’conner.” She added and Jonathan laughed loudly.

“You’re funny.”

“And cute, apparently.” She shrugged, “you still haven’t apologized.”

“For what?” He played dumb.

“For calling me cute.”

“I’m not apologizing for pointing out something that’s true.” He argued and she looked up at the sky, pretending to study the clouds.

“I think you’re an asshole, Jonathan.” She looked up at him and he nodded slowly, a small smile stuck to his lips.

“So do I.”

They walked in silence to the house and Margaret left him at the door. He walked in through the door, strips of paint curled and fell onto the doormat.

“Don’t forget that you owe me an ice cream,” she called quietly before the door closed and he gave a little salute before the door snapped shut.

...

end of pt. 1 :)

Thank you so much for all of the support. This community means the world to me and I feel very supported by everyone on this niche community. I love writing these silly little fanfics and I'm flattered that people like them. I read all of your comments and reblogs- lots of love!

#cillian murphy #cillian x reader #cillian x fem!reader #fanfiction #young cillian murphy #cillian fluff #cillian murphy x reader #jonathan breech #on the edge 2001 #fem!reader #imagine #multi chap fic #jonathan crane

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nami-ramen · 2 months

Text

Continuation of a thingy a month ago

Unfortunately I’m just too tired already to make smth better than a messy sketch sry

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twinklelilstarkey · 3 years

Note

rafe request here maybe he gets the flu or something and is super clingy while y/n takes care of him because hes never really had anyone to care for him while he’s sick before

A/N: I’m sorry that is probably not what you asked for, I just made clingy Rafe and that’s about it. I was experiencing kind of a writer’s block and this was what I was able to write. Sorryyy.

Cold - Rafe Cameron

Words: 800+

Type: Fluff

Warnings: GenderNeutral!Reader. Mentions of coughing and headaches (?).

DO NOT REPOST, REWRITE OR TRANSLATE ANY OF MY WORK!

(Idk who to give credits [for the gif] to, sry, google wasn’t helpful)

“Get back in bed!” You whine as Rafe appears at the end of the hallway, right when you were making your way back to him.

“I’m lonely in there” He whines back, wrapping the large blanket over his shoulders.

You walk back to the living room, knowing very well that he is right behind you, and lean back down on the couch. In a space of seconds, Rafe appears and sits next to your standing figure.

“Bubba, you should be in bed. Not here” You tell him as he leans back on the couch to try and get comfortable.

“The bed is cold” He tries to say before starting a coughing fit.

Rafe, when calm, stares at the wall almost as if to wait for any other cough and leans back on the couch once sure.

“Do we have more blankets?” Rafe asks and you look at him.

“I think we do”

You make your way towards the wardrobe in your room, ignoring the messy bed on your way there, and you grab at least 3 blankets from the drawer, taking them back to the living room with you.

Rafe shivers under your fluffy blanket and you can’t help but hate the sight. He’s always such a bubbly person on Saturday’s, and today he has only been either shivering, whining, coughing or sneezing.

You walk to stand next to him and put the blankets down on the couch. You grab one and drape it over him.

“Do you want another blanket?” You ask him as you sit next to him again, and he shakes his head.

You sit close to him, this time, and you’re quick to lay your hand over his forehead to try and see if the meds he took had finally worked. But it doesn’t seem like it. He leans against your hand, closing his eyes, and you smile a bit at him.

“Do you want me to get you anything else?”

Your hand cups his cheek and he shakes his head slowly as an answer. You decide not to ask him anything else and lean back on the couch, closer to him than before.

Rafe, almost as a reflex, opens up his blanket and throws one of the sides over your legs so you can be as comfortable and warm as him. You smile a bit at the act and he leans his head back on the couch.

You grab his hands under the blanket and bring it to your lap. His hand is way warmer than yours but he doesn’t seem to mind.

You lean back on the couch, legs bent over the cushions as you reach for the controller from the side table. Turning the tv at low volume to entertain the both of you.

At the sound of voices coming from the Tv, Rafe looks up from the couch and stares at the movie playing. His phone sits on top of the coffee table, completely dead over him not caring to charge it since all the texts he was getting from Topper were starting to be a little too much for his aching head, and he decides to not even spare it a second glance.

You sit back up and Rafe lays his forehead over your shoulder, almost as if it is too heavy for him to even hold it upright for longer than a few seconds. You stare at the Tv, unfazed with his burning skin against yours, and he snuggles in the crook of your neck.

You rest your hand over his hair, fingers carefully massaging over his scalp and he relaxes next you.

“Wait” You say, making him lift his head slightly.

You lay back on the couch, head and back resting over the unorganized pillows and you pull Rafe closer to you. He hesitates a little, but not even 5 seconds later, he adjusts the blankets over him and lays over you.

He rests his head over your chest and you help him out with the covers, adjusting them so they can rest over his body enough for him to be completely under them.

His arms rest over your sides, eyes glued to the TV as his body relaxes completely. You pass him the remote and he’s quick to start surfing through the channels as you lay your hand over his hair again.

Not even 2 whole minutes later, Rafe’s eyes start to heavy from the low murmur of the TV, the warmth from the blankets and your soft touch over his skin. You’re distracted with whatever sitcom it’s playing, that you don’t even notice when the man on top of you as fallen asleep.

His soft breathing hits the skin of your chest, making you look down to see him as relaxed as one can be. A soft expression covers his sick and tired one, yet your hand continues its small and smoothing moves over his back and head as Rafe goes into a deep sleep, away from all the headaches and coughing fits.

Hiya everyone! Hope you liked this little piece, it’s not that great, but oh well. Hope you’re doing good!!! Stay healthy ❤️

#rafe cameron x reader #drew starkey x reader #rafe cameron imagine #drew starkey imagine #rafe cameron imagines #drew starkey imagines #outer banks rafe #rafe cameron #drew starkey #outer banks #netflix outer banks #rafe outer banks #obx #obx netflix

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1oserjk · 4 years

Text

— full stop | 03

* .✫*ﾟ･ﾟ｡.☆.*｡･ﾟ✫*. * .✫*ﾟ･ﾟ｡.☆.*｡･ﾟ✫*.* .✫*ﾟ･ﾟ｡.☆.

a series.

a messy divorce, unrequited feelings, and a five year old.

* .✫*ﾟ･ﾟ｡.☆.*｡･ﾟ✫*. * .✫*ﾟ･ﾟ｡.☆.*｡･ﾟ✫*.* .✫*ﾟ･ﾟ｡.☆.

02 ⇋ 04

x full stop masterlist | x masterlist

shit is 16k .. sry

* .✫*ﾟ･ﾟ｡.☆.*｡･ﾟ✫*. * .✫*ﾟ･ﾟ｡.☆.*｡･ﾟ✫*.* .✫*ﾟ･ﾟ｡.☆.

full stop | 03: unhappy birthday

Hyejin has always been a ball of fury when you poked at the wrong buttons on her. But something about Jungkook and the aftermath of the divorce has made her even more apprehensive of the man, and you can only do so much to shift her opinions elsewhere.

“Fuck him over. Somehow, someway — just do it.”

You choke.

Eyes widening, sputtering out, “H-Hyejin..”

“I’m not kidding,” she deadpans, already rolling up her sleeves, “How many times do I have to tell you that fucker will never learn?”

A hand comes up, “Okay wait.” You pause. “Are we going to collectively forget Jungkook is my daughter’s father?”

Her head shakes. “Not relevant—and also hard for me to care when it comes to him.”

You exhale, eyes fluttering closed and palms resting flat on her kitchen table. “Look, I know he’s not the most liked between everybody right now. But, I can’t just tell him no.. That’s not fair.”

“But there’s boundaries,” she points and argues, then prompts, “What kind of outcome does he expect when he goes out with the one person who caused most of the mess two years ago.”

Your eyes roll back. “She took a micro-portion of it.”

“Her presence was still there and highly significant if I'm judging from most of the nights you came to me for!”

“Hyejin.” You glare.

“And don’t even try to do That Thing where you deduce your own valid feelings and assume everybody else’s choices and actions are reasonable when it’s clearly not!” You glare and she blatantly ignores it, waving you off, “And I know you’re keeping everything within yourself for the sake of being a better co-parent, or whatever fucking advice you read in the facebook group you’ve recently planted yourself in, but god. I’m mad, anyone would be mad, so let me be mad for you.”

“No one is going to be mad about this,” you finally decide. “There’s nothing to be mad about. He is his own person and he can make his own decisions.” She pins her stare at your nails that you pick at. You feel it. “Even if it means going out with someone younger, more exciting, who prances around with a pen in her hand as if she’s really doing something useful all the fucking time for whatever goddamn reason. I could care less,” you can’t help but mutter under your breath shortly after.

“Ha!” One of her acrylics poke at you and you flinch. “You are mad.”

You groan out loudly. “I’m not mad,” you exasperate. “All I’m saying is for him to have at least decent taste if he’s going to date. Not someone so expectant after a divorce.”

Her eyes narrow.

“But that’s not the point,” you make sure to add right after. Fingers run through your hair and you sigh. “Look,” you ease gently. “I’m trying to be alright in this, okay? The last thing I want to do is stomp in like a madwoman and refuse a relationship that would’ve happened sooner or later.”

Of course, she disagrees. “God,” she stands, grabbing both of your mugs and heading to the sink. “You’re turning into one of those Milf’s that stand by to live, laugh, and love—it’s grossing me out.”

Your ears perk at attention and you smile smugly. “You think I’m a Milf?”

“Shut up. You’re flattered.” She turns it on to soak both of your cups before the coffee sticks. “I only dropped by to tell you that it’s okay to freak out once in a while.”

The only reason she’s been keening on you to go apeshit in front of your ex-husband, was the frantic phone call you left on the night of ditching Jungkook in your own kitchen. Being that she was here now, claiming that Kiumin ached for a playdate with Yeona, when in reality, her only goal was to scold you for not swinging at the doll Jungkook pranced around with as of late.

She puts a hand on her hip and leans towards the counter. “Turning to corny coping mechanisms like following a Bob Ross tutorial isn’t going to fix your rage you’ve been pushing down.”

“Okay, but that’s only because Jungkook still has some of his supplies laying around and the only thing I could come up with was painting a fucking sunset. Sue me,” you defend, throwing your arms up. “Besides, you weren’t there to see him, Hyejin. He was getting out of his office for once, smiling even, a-and it was different. A good different, and..” You’re completely at a loss, mouth opening, then shutting back closed, because what was even the point.

“..You don’t want to take that away from him,” she finishes, a tilt to her head and a consoling expression gracing her features.

“Exactly,” you exhale. “I can’t even be mad that she’s actually getting him out there, taking him to things that didn’t involve work. Something I couldn’t even do-“

“Hey, no,” she stops you, head firmly shaking. “No, you don’t get to do that. You were there and present, even on the days you were close to giving up before you actually did — you were there, trying your absolute hardest, clinging onto what he barely gave you. You were never the problem, okay?”

You meekly nod, tired eyes on her when she takes a firm hold of both of your hands.

She makes it clear, saying, “As a wife and a mother, you were always there and that is something nobody can take away from you.”

“I know,” you confess. “I’m just in a weird position right now, and I’m stressed out from it. Not mad—stressed.”

“And you don’t have to be, alright?” She shakes on your shoulder. “I know I insisted on breaking some plates and screaming, but hearing you out, I’m sure you would rather stray from the subject as a whole.”

“Please.”

“Alright. I’ll get out of your hair for now, and if I come up with something to do for us that doesn’t involve egging someone’s car—“

“Hyejin!”

“—then I’ll let you know.”

You huff out a breath and finally stand, entering into her arms she spans out. “I’ll always be worried about you, babe.”

“I know,” you mumble, “And I’ll keep telling you I’m fine every single time you ask.” She pinches your side that earns a loud yelp from you and a hiss of pain a second later.

“Love you.”

“Always,” you promise and then remind, “Please save some space for Yeona’s birthday that’s coming up, and be prepared for any phone-calls beforehand of me crying because my baby’s growing up and I have no control to slow down time for it.”

“Ah, that’s right,” she says. “Tell me if you need any help planning, alright?”

“Of course.”

“Kiumin, baby,” she calls out, heading towards the living space, “Buddy, let’s go. We gotta get home before dinnertime.”

Both of your children are on the floor, several toys in front of them and a television with brightly lit characters and colors that did not have to be at a high-volume as it was right now.

“Aw,” the little boy pouts, “Okay.” He turns to your daughter and waves hesitantly.

“Bye Kiumin,” Yeona yells out, clambering across the floor to get a hug. Short arms wrap around tiny figures and it’s absolutely adorable. Your eyes can sense a hint of red on Kiumin’s cheeks when your daughter’s hands tug tightly onto his. “See you soon, maybe.” She shrugs.

“Don’t worry, Yeonie,” Hyejin promises. “We’ll meet up again soon.”

At that, Yeona nods enthusiastically and shuffles herself forward for another hug directed towards your best friend. “Bye, aunt Hyejin.” She receives a soft pat to her head.

“Be safe on the way home,” you order.

They make their leave swiftly, and it finally gives you time to properly breathe—and think for a long while.

Tiny fingers pinch the paper in between them, a determination set in her eyes as she excitedly jumps around in her seat. “It’s done,” she announces.

Your eyes resemble a wink when you squint at her, sun shining way too brightly for it to be this early in the morning. It practically reflects Yeona’s attitude in starting the day like this, while you sit pathetically in an oversized shirt and coffee in hand.

Taking the time in the morning for yourself was barely a thing, especially when it came to your daughter and her way too early sleep schedule her school had willed her on.

Instead of sleeping in, you’re dealt with Yeona already being wide-eyed in her bed, making grabby hands at the toys in her bedroom you’ve put the time in cleaning up on the floor from the night before.

Even staying home in her matching sweats her father had gifted her, she would still request her hair up and out of her face for the rest of the day. So, you’d be taking fifteen minutes to slick her hair up in her choice of a ponytail or pigtails instead of preciously sleeping in. Even right after, she’d become hungry, wanting breakfast to go along with her cartoons she had downloaded on her tablet.

Which was perfectly fine, you’d be up soon anyway, so it would be better overall to just start the day off a bit earlier. It would only just leave you a bit off-looking and disoriented in the things you’d do for yourself.

Years back, when Yeona was younger and you were still married, the routine was easier and much steadier when you would tag-team in getting ready for the day, passing off your daughter after one task would be done for the other and it would be your own turn for yours.

At first, it left you frazzled when you were alone most days, but now, since the separation has settled in, it’d been okay for the most part. It just meant that some of the things and time you put aside for yourself were sacrificed, and that you would have to save your self care routine for later in the night when Yeona would flutter her eyelashes closed for slumber.

You excitedly clap a few times and reach eagerly. “Can I see?”

Yeona’s birthday was reaching close and for most of them, you would be able to know exactly what she’d want for that particular year. Normally, it would be a themed party of whatever she had been obsessed with at that time, and obviously the gifts you would drown her in. Last year went with a breeze. You were glad at that time when most of the conflict between you and Jungkook had faded when the time came, solely focusing on your daughter and that was it. But now, with the way things had left between the two of you recently, you were worried it wouldn’t be the same as this year.

Yeona had declared she wanted something different this year and decided that she’d write it all out in a list. Still unsure and a bit confused, you complied and set out her supplies for her to take over on the paper. It was only fifteen minutes after she claimed that she was finished.

Leaning towards her paper, you expected it to be drowned in color and design, taking the same artistic habits as her father. But to no avail, it was left blank.

Your brows furrow. “I thought you were done?”

She nods. “I am!”

“So.. Where—“ You awkwardly left off, wondering if she was hiding it beneath the table or behind her back. She giggles when you curiously dip your head under the tabletop.

“In here,” she points. A single finger pokes at her head and she proudly smiles before explaining, “The list is in my head! If you read all of it at once, then it wouldn’t be fun, so I’ll tell Mommy the first thing now and the rest for later.”

Your mouth opens in a sound of realization, and your eyes glint at how clever she became. “So,” you excitedly lean towards her more, landing a soft peck on her forehead. “What does my baby want for her birthday?”

“No party,” she firstly says with a firm shake to her head.

Your eyes widened. “No party?” Since the beginning, it’s always been one.

“Nope.” Her lips purse out with a crinkle to her nose. “Mommy,” she says, eyes twinkling. “I’m growing, so big girls don’t have parties.”

You hum, “Is that so?”

She nods dramatically.

“So what would you want this year?”

“I would like to ask if we could have my birthday at Uncle Jin and Joonie’s beach house.”

Your brows shoot up. “That’s all the way in Jeju..”

She nods. “We could all take the ferry!” Then, she pouts. “We never go on the ferry.”

Her idea runs through your mind for a few seconds before theorizing with her, mindlessly murmuring to yourself, “We could take the one in Busan and visit Grandma and Grandpa on the way..” You were sure they would want to see Yeona on the day of her birthday.

Her eyes brighten when she picks up on your mumbles, grappling your wrist and shaking it, “Yes, Mommy! We’ll take everybody, like, Daddy’s co-workers and Kiumin!”

It seems that you were already confirming the idea instead of considering it, though it all seemed like a perfect idea that wouldn’t take a lot of effort or stress. You can already imagine the small gathering for the weekend getaway, already knowing how much the others would like some time off, especially the guys that would always be cooped up in the suffocated shop filled with needles and ink. It would be a nice way of switching a few things up and catching up with the rest of the inner circle you’ve accumulated from the time of being with Jungkook.

“Well,” you start, “Let me have a conversation with your Daddy and then maybe,” you halt when she begins to turn giddy, “Maybe it will happen. But he’s going to have to ask Uncle Jin and Joon if it’s alright, so it's honestly up to them to decide..”

“Okay,” she quickly obliges, confidence set in her tone and smile, telling you that she was completely sure of her idea and their compliance to it.

“Of course!”

Jungkook’s head drops down in embarrassment while you sit across from him, mouth almost gaping.

“S-Seokjin,” you sputter. “You barely even gave it a few seconds to think about.”

He shakes a hand back and forth, “Why would I need to?”

“You can’t just..“ You lead off hopelessly. Turning to the lanky man next to him, you raise a brow. “Namjoon?”

“Fine by me,” he says over a mouthful of noodles, “We barely even use the house, anyway.”

“O-Okay, but-“

“We should go a week before the date to check up on it,” Seokjin suggests to Namjoon.

“You’re right, just in case anything is out of place,” he replies.

“The fireplace should be okay, right? I heard it rained last weekend.”

And then they fall into their own conversation, leaving you and Jungkook, the real parents in this situation — silent.

“I guess.. It’s happening?” You squeak out. The expensive couch sits uncomfortably on your bum, and you grow sweaty from being left to bask in the tension between the man across from you. It’s awkward, almost dragging on since you’ve entered the flat and sat down with Jungkook.

You were thankful at first, when Seokjin had butted in the conversation, boyfriend in tow.

The last time you’ve encountered your ex-husband, were only the past few weeks of dropping off Yeona on his days off, stoically handing her to him and running off until you would have to pick her up again.

It was childish, you knew that. You knew it exactly when you turned your back to him and completely shut him out three weeks ago. But at this point, it was the only way you were able to cope with however you were feeling about him, and simmering down most of your anger. But seeing that you would have to deal with him sooner rather than later, being that Yeona’s birthday was coming up, you were reluctantly willing to face him.

“Yeah, I don’t think we have a choice,” he chuckles, palms nervously rubbing against his knees. A small part of you is definitely basking in the way he squirms under your scrutiny.

“It’s fine,” you say, “This was the biggest part of Yeona’s list, anyway. She really wanted this.”

He offers a quirk to his lips, and your heart immediately seizes, having to force yourself to stop looking at him so obnoxiously. It’s gross, really, how you’ve managed to be so affected by him - good or bad, since the very start.

A throat clears, and it’s Namjoon, one hand stuffed in his pocket while the other on Seokjin’s lower back. You grow curious if he noticed. “Tell Yeona we can have her birthday at our house in Jeju.”

“Thank you, really—to you both. She really wanted this, and for you guys to be there too.”

“Of course, we’ll send a message to the rest that they’re invited.”

With a smile, you stand and wrap your arms around both of them on your way out. “Thank you, again,” you can’t help but repeat. They only chuckle in your tight grasp that clearly proved how grateful you were to them.

“I’ll walk you out to your car,” Jungkook offers when he stands.

You shake your head, “It’s alright. I took a bus here.”

“Then, I’ll drive you back.”

“Jungkook, no, it’s okay-“

Already disappearing into his room, he makes a grab for his jacket and shoes to head out.

Seokjin chuckles when you whip around to face back the both of them, “Stubborn.”

You’re breathless when you repeat in stress, “Yeah.”

“Have a good night, _____.” Namjoon and Seokjin simultaneously wave, sending you both out the door. You embarrassingly let out a light laugh, waving back and wishing the same for them.

You rush to the side of Jungkook when they disappear.

Nobody talks, even until you’ve reached his car, unlocking the doors and allowing you to slip in the passenger side.

He got the vehicle shortly after finalizing his move out of the house, offering the one you previously shared and owned. You didn’t have much of a choice when he slipped the keys in your hand and left shortly after without any argument. You were more nervous that if you pushed more for him to take it, he’d go out and buy you a new one the next day.

For Jungkook driving the sleek black car everyday, it practically seems unused, leather seats still having that particular smell and everything still being tidy around it. Then again, Yeona is now older and less messy than before.

Everything in the car is so exactly him, and you weren’t quite sure how to feel about it.

After buckling up and properly settling in, he slides the keys in the slot, leaving you to stare at the hanging car accessory up at the rearview mirror.

It’s a picture of you and Yeona, laid out on the floor. You remember the memory clearly, Yeona declaring a tickle fight and sprawling out on the floor for a fair match. Even with Yeona sat on top of you, it seemed that you were winning in the game with how her head was thrown back and a wide grin on her face, you could practically hear the squeal she was letting out in the picture.

He still had it.

For a second, you smile back at it.

You barely even notice the car already moving and him asking the question, “Why didn’t you drive?”

Your head flicks to him, and your eyes stay right at his jaw when he makes a smooth turn. You shrug, “It was nearby, I didn’t mind.”

“You should’ve told me,” he says, “I would have come home instead of you travelling all this way for me.”

Home. He still called it home, like it’d be any day now for him to return to it, that this was all a temporary fix until everything would get less foggy.

“It’s fine,” you pass off. “I didn’t think you would see the offer as worthy since Yeona is at my mom’s place right now.”

His head shakes, turning away from the road to catch your eyes for a split second. “I don’t need any reason to see you, _____. Just tell me, and I’ll be there.” It’s with vigour and promise, you almost turn flustered.

You let out a small scoff before looking down at your hands. “If you said that a long time ago, we would’ve still been married,” you joke, though it comes out bitter. “Thanks for the offer, though,” you sarcastically add.

The car suddenly halts and you look up, the red traffic light flashes in front of you.

Jungkook shuts his eyes before tiredly letting out a sigh.

You grow anxious, looking out the window from the side. Some of the restaurants and shops are surprisingly still open and you focus on the windows with bright lighting inside of the buildings. Friends and couples are eating out, some are laughing, and you wonder what some of their conversation consisted of. You surmise it’s something foolish when one of them throws their head back in a fit of laughter.

Your hands grip each other when a pair from the opposite side of your vision pucker up and kiss. It turns personal way too quickly and you immediately feel like you're intruding, grateful that the light turns green and you finally move away from the intimate image, wondering if you would ever get close to that phase of your life again.

The silent minute brings you to announce abruptly, “We’re going to take the ferry in Busan instead of here, so that she would be able to see your parents before leaving.”

“Sounds fine,” he replies. “My mother would like that.”

You nod.

“What about yours?” He suggests.

You sigh, head hitting the headrest of the seat softly. “Another detox trip. They said they would send her a birthday card before they would leave. Probably why they’re spending as much time with her as they can before they leave.”

Even with eyes on the road, he still seems to be listening intently. He hesitates a few seconds before asking, “How’s your dad?”

You send him a smile, the least you could do before answering, “Still hates you.”

He snorts. “Yeah,” he says, “I figured.”

You swallow tightly and decide to ask, “How’s settling with Seokjin?” It’s been a couple of years, but still, it all still feels new and something you haven’t gotten around to asking ever since.

He hums, “It’s quiet most of the time since he’s at Namjoon’s nearly everyday..”

“The place is practically yours then,” you attempt to joke again, but it comes out as hardly, not exactly comfortable to throw that specific tone around.

He shrugs. “Wish he would let me pay more than half of the rent, but it’s tolerable.”

“Are you ever planning to get your own place soon?”

“Huh,” he thinks. “Haven’t put much thought into it.”

“Well, if you ever do, I can always help out,” you quietly suggest and he takes a quick glimpse at you to see if you were actually being serious.

“Really?”

You nod. “Yeah. I actually think it would be cool for Yeona to have a second room at your place. So it’s home over there for her as it is with me.”

Another red light, and his eyes blink close for a moment. The conversation is going too fast and all of a sudden, it starts to hurt.

Jungkook doesn’t want another home, a place that reads that he is officially separated from you and out of his reach, not when it doesn’t include you in it.

It would hurt him even more if you would egg it on, support him and the move away from you, like you would want him to, and maybe you really did. He would understand why. Still, it hurts when you talk so freely like this, seemingly eager to get rid of him.

Jungkook doesn’t voice his disagreement, avoiding talking at all and keeping his mouth closed instead.

The conversation falls off after that, and he most likely figured that would be the most he got out of you for the rest of the car ride.

That was until you spoke up again.

It was quiet, almost barely heard, and it’s said quickly. “You can invite her, you know?”

His fingers unknowingly grip on the steering wheel.

You look back down. “I don’t mind and I don’t want you to think that I’ll hold you back from doing so.”

They want to reach out, grasp for your hands you keep fiddling with, scold you for biting on your lip too harshly, everything he used to do, he wanted to fall back and do it all at once.

They keep clinging to the wheel.

“I was mad back then,” you guiltily admit and he immediately shakes his head.

“You had every right to be.”

“I probably looked silly for being so mad on something I have no control over.” You move your eyes back over the window and the blurry images that pass by solemnly. “Especially when everything’s been said and done with, right?” You turn to him and he gulps. His heart drops at how quick and firm you said, as if it was that easy.

“Yeah,” he agrees quietly.

“Maybe this is a learning curve for us,” you nod to yourself. “So, I’m open to having her with us this year.”

He had no idea why you were so sure that everything between Seol and himself were solid enough to introduce her as his girlfriend, fuck, even he wasn’t sure he could spit the word out himself.

Everything was going by way too fast, too much to process.

He only nods, clinging onto actions rather than words to speak for him.

His throat clears and the car slows down to a clear stop. You peak over his head and find your house already being presented as the car decreases in speed.

“Oh.”

“Yeah,” is all he says.

“Well,” your buckle releases and you slide out onto the edge of the seat, already gripping onto the handle. You offer him a smile. “Thanks, Jungkook.”

The door opens and he stiffly nods and doesn’t pull out of his spot until his own two eyes have watched your figure disappear into the entrance of the house.

“Did you double-check that you have everything?”

She nods.

“Okay, then I think we’re ready.” You clap, zipping up the rest of your bags.

She can’t even stand still with her excitement, having to run around at times when it got too much.

Ever since the beginning of planning this weekend trip, you surprisingly had a lot of time on your hands from the immense help of everybody else who volunteered to plan. You were glad that they reached out, but you also became antsy at the fact you had no control over the outcome of this gathering. In anything that Yeona wanted, you strived to make sure it would happen with reasonability. Being away from most of the planning had left you anxious on most days, wondering what Seokjin would be pulling under his sleeve on Yeona’s celebration.

“Here.” You hand her backpack to her, silently ushering her to turn around so you could slip it through her arms. “Sit on the couch and watch your show for now. Your father will be here soon to pick us up.”

She complies easily, shuffling towards the cushioned chair.

Before she becomes too absorbed in the cartoon, you ask a mindless theory for her to answer, “If Daddy shows up with a friend—that is a girl.. You’ll be nice, right?”

Her head tilts and her brows crease. “Girl—friend?”

Your fingers tighten against the hem of your sundress. “M-Maybe? I’m not sure, he hasn’t told me a lot about her..”

“That’s not right,” she notes. “Daddy should tell Mommy so she knows..”

You send her a softened smile that holds a sad shift in it. “Not this time, baby.” You look down at your hands. “Just be nice to her, okay?”

She only nods.

You brush off your knees when you stand back up, moving back towards your room to grab whatever else you might’ve forgotten and rush through most of your makeup bag to fix yourself up a bit.

You debated a few times in your head to switch up your dress for another one in your bag. Usually, you never cared, but this time, oddly, you wanted to satisfy more than yourself with the way you currently looked and dressed as - for whatever reason you cannot decipher as. But having to change, you would also have to switch out Yeona’s dress since you both decided to match today.

You decided not to bother since it would take too much time, especially since you hear the buttons being pressed at your front door, buzzing when the code punches in and indicating that Jungkook was finally here.

You quickly pull and clip on a necklace that was mindlessly set on your bedside table, and rush out the room with your bags.

When both of them come into view, you already see Yeona attached to Jungkook’s hip. No one else.

“Hey,” you breathlessly greet with a nod, trying not to seem blunt by focusing on the front door to see if a certain person tagged alone. “I hope this isn’t too much—? I cut down most of it last night..”

He shakes his head. “Don’t worry about it,” then looks down at the bags, “But—uh, are you sure you need all of this? It’s only a couple of days.”

“Yeah, but,” you hesitate, pushing some strands of your hair away, “It’s clothes, swimsuits, sunscreen, shower products, presents—“

“Presents?” Yeona brightens.

“No,” You and Jungkook rush.

“Mommy meant something else..”

“Oh.” Her expression flattens. “Then what did she mean?” She presses.

Jungkook’s mouth gapes and he attempts to spit out an answer before you boisterly interrupt, “Oh no! We’re running late.”

He nods comically when he meets eyes with you. “Y-You’re right! Let me take your bags,” he offers.

You practically shove them into his hands when you switch positions, taking Yeona into your own and softly letting her down.

When you stand up straight, he eyes the both of you in awe when he notices.

“You’re both matching.”

You grow heated under his gaze and shyly nod, straightening out the flimsy skirt of your dress. “She’s been hounding me to get a mini size for her when I wear mine, so this was her first gift from me.”

Her tiny hands cling onto your fingers and squeezes them, “Yup! We wanted to look pretty for Daddy.”

You practically choke out a small cough at her statement as he arches a brow towards you, your cheeks dusting a shade of embarrassment immediately.

“T-There was no set intent for doing this exactly,” you defend with a growing pout before you childishly point at Yeona and sputter, “It was her idea and I just went with it.”

He chuckles, encouraging the dusty rose to spread to your ears and neck. “Well,” he starts and confirms, “You both look beautiful.” He’s already turning away and moving towards the door before you can react. “I’ll compliment you more when we get in the car, but we should hurry.”

You both scurry in front of him, and a firm hand lands on the small of your back to lead you out. Whipping around slightly, you turn surprised from the mere gesture.

A certain feeling washes over you — it’s nostalgic, almost drowning you from the blunt force when his fingers land on only the thin material that separates your skin from his. For a second, it feels like what it has always been.

Even as false pretense or even reassurance, you bask in the feeling you can only assume is melancholy and warmth, all at the same time. It’s bittersweet, but it’s something and it’s clearly there.

He offers a smile, and it’s not a polite one you usually send each other when you would interact, it’s not a forced one either. It was genuine, and it was towards you.

A smile that read this weekend would be a memorable one, like all of the other birthdays you celebrated each year.

For a split second, you feel like a family again.

The door clicks shut and you finally all head out to fulfill Yeona’s birthday journey.

“God,” he rubs at his shoulder that aches. “What did you pack in here to make me feel like this four floors down?”

Rolling your eyes, your daughter’s leg brushes against you when it kicks up for the minute of buckling her up. You don’t bother asking her to stop, silently allowing her to start playing with your hair when you lean over the other side of her carseat. You adjust her sandals while you’re at it. “We took the elevator, I’m sure it wasn’t that bad.”

“You weren’t the one carrying it,” he argues, shutting the trunk closed.

Finally finished with making sure Yeona would ride safely in the backseat, you recover your crouched form and rise. “You offered.”

He sighs, hands on his hips, and a smile creeping on his face he managed to halt before your eyes would land on them. “You never answered my question.”

Both of you make it to the front of the car and slip in, shutting the car doors simultaneously in coincidence.

You wave a hand in dismissal before reaching up for the seatbelt. “It’s a few gifts for your mother. She really liked the scent of the apartment when she last visited, so I packed a few candles of the ones I’ve been using.”

“A few?” He scoffs, pinning you a look. The car begins to run when he slides the key in the slot. He has a hard time believing in your estimate of the amount you were bringing when he picks up weights on a regular basis at the gym, not boasting when he clearly can’t help mentioning it every now and then. There were way more than a few.

You hesitate, observing him shift the gear and backing the car up and out of the parking space. “Fine, I slipped in a few more for Seokjin,” you confess and it’s clear that he has a smug smirk carrying his expression. “Only because he asked,” you huff.

A light chuckle slips out and his fingers on the center console almost twitch when he hears you let one out also.

You abruptly turn towards the backseat. “Yeonie? Please turn down your tablet.” It Had been ringing in both of your ears since you got in the car. You wanted to have a proper conversation without having to scream out your words over the rhymes and overplayed sound-effects.

When she does, you finally sigh and lean back in pure exhaustion from the lack of sleep the night before.

Jungkook notices.

“You okay?” He asks.

Your eyes flutter open slowly and you nod. “Didn’t get a lot of sleep last night, so I’m dealing with the repercussions of it.” Your gaze on the road soon turns blank.

If you were being honest, it’s been a long time in dealing with enough sleep. If you were in bed, you were most likely staying up, keeping yourself busy, not deeming it as a good enough reason to sleep just yet. Before, you slept easily, paying no mind to what was happening around you, you actually slept. Something changed to the point where you weren’t granted that access anymore, having to question the exact reason on why you should even sleep. You weren’t sure if you would find it, sticking with just coaxing yourself into slumber through most nights.

“You can take a nap if you want,” he suggests. “It’s going to take a while before we get there, so you might as well.”

You hum absentmindedly, barely registering any of his words if you were being honest.

Yeona yawns. He shifts his attention to the back, watching Yeona squirm for a comfortable spot - as comfortable as she can get - in her carseat. “Are you sleepy too, baby?”

She mewls out a tired noise in confirmation and leans her head to the padded side of hers. “Daddy, sing to me,” she requests, blinking, lagging until they fully close.

Jungkook’s soft hums fill up the noise of the car other than the white noise surrounding you when he drove.

Your eyes go back to closing when it hits you, a metaphorical blanket that deems where you were, what you were doing, and who you were with — as safe. Your brows furrow unconsciously at the thought that you’ve been dealing with this specific problem about your sleep for God knows how long, but Jungkook suddenly fixes it and now it’s all gone.

You finally sleep.

An hour into the drive and you suddenly ask, “Is she.. Driving on her way too?”

His eyebrows furrow and he turns to stare at you, disoriented by the question. “Who?”

You eye him wearily and tip your head forward, like it was obvious.

He’s still confused.

“Seol?” You finally spit out.

“Oh.”

That’s all he says and you grow impatient. “So?”

“She’s not coming,” he finally answers. “I didn’t invite her. Why would you think I would?”

“She wasn’t in the car when you picked us up, or at the house, so I just assumed..”

“No,” he quickly denies, looking you in the eye this time. “She’s not coming.”

“Oh—okay.” You wonder why.

It’s silent except for when his throat clears and he turns the car.

“Um,” you drag unsurely. “Are you.. Still—seeing each other?” It’s personal, and you regret asking, but for the sake of your bouncing leg and bated breath, you wait.

“I—I don’t know? I mean we’re going out, but it’s not anything official.” He looks nervous, eyes shifting back and forth from one side of a street to another.

“So.. You haven’t asked her to be your girlfriend yet?”

This is weird. Too fucking weird and now Jungkook’s acutely uneasy because there is absolutely no malice in your voice. Just curiousness being unravelled.

“No, not really,” he nervously stammers, and he tries his best to gauge your reaction but you hold absolutely nothing to read on. “I want to decide carefully.” You suddenly stare back at him and he has no choice but to continue, “Like you said. I want to make sure it’s right. No fuck-ups anymore. Not with you or Yeona.”

Your head shakes. “Jungkook, you don’t have to-“

“It’s my decision,” he firmly states, “and it’s on my terms.”

Jungkook’s mother was always a bright soul who greeted and welcomed you with open arms.

The first time you were off to meet her, you were twenty-three years old and absolutely terrified, and you made sure to tell Jungkook that before you even stepped foot in the house he grew up in.

You informed him how much bad luck you came with when it involved meeting your partner’s parents. More specifically — your past boyfriends and their overly clingy mothers who did not like you no matter what you did, as long as you were dating their son.

“My mom loves everyone,” Jungkook explained previously the night before the anticipated meeting.

You shook your head vigorously, eyes wide and anxious, shivering from having the thought of reliving something you always dreaded. “That’s what they all say before we end up arriving and then all of a sudden I’m being pounced on by an overbearing mother who obviously can’t stand the thought of having another woman in her son’s life.”

He laughed. “Your exes were probably an only child,” and then continued to inform as if it would ease your nerves, “I have an older brother.”

You shrieked. “Holy shit, that makes it even worse because you’re her youngest. The baby of the family—her baby.” He cackled and you landed a solid strike at his arm with a whine, “Jungkook, Take me serious.”

“Alright, okay,” he shushed you and tugged at your hips before closing in on you. “I can assure you that my mother isn’t some type of villain you’ve painted out in your head.”

You winced and patted his chest with a pout, “Sorry. Past minor trauma.”

“I get it,” he reassured. “But she’s different than the rest, I promise.”

And she definitely was.

The house fills with a scent of something cooking on the stove top and it immediately engulfs you in warmth when you hear the television going off in the spacious area of the living room, assuming it was Jungkook’s father planted on his signature chair he was always found in.

When Yeona finally kicks off her shoes, she immediately runs through the house to find her grandmother.

“Careful,” Jungkook calls from next to you.

He notices your dazed state and takes a step closer. “How are you feeling? Still tired?”

Your mouth falls open and you shake your head with a smile, brushing it off, “My head is aching a bit from the long car ride, but I’ll be fine. Maybe I’ll sit down for a few.”

He shows concern in his expression and leans forward to inspect you carefully. “Come here.”

“I told you I’d be okay, Gguk. I’m fine.” Still, your feet take you closer towards him until calloused fingers land at your temples before applying pressure. “Mm,” you let out in surprise, lips pressed when he goes in circular motions against your skin, grappling onto one of his wrists for support. Your eyes flutter shut when the pain starts to subside. Four fingers each from both hands are firmly planted while his two thumbs continue to ease the throbbing that’s been planted in your head since you’ve gotten out of the car.

“Starting to feel better?” He murmurs softly.

You nod with the space he provided for it. “I still think I should just take some medicine.”

He doesn't stop his ministrations, only humming. “In a minute. Want to avoid my mom a bit longer before she starts to ask why I haven’t been visiting lately.”

A smile quickly settles on your lips and you squeeze at the wrist you’ve been gripping on.

It’s up close when he sees you softly giggle and his heart surges forward. Your eyes open back up and you’re suddenly staring at such a close proximity.

“She worries about you.”

“I know,” he promises. “Just not sure what to say when she starts interrogating me.”

Before your mouth can slip in an answer, a throat clears and you tense immediately.

You both stiffly turn towards the new figure in the room who raises an amused brow.

“Uh, hi Mom. Where’s Yeona?”

“With your father.”

You remember suddenly before coughing and tugging at Jungkook’s hands that stay planted against your head.

“We were just..” Jungkook attempts, wiping off his palms that have gotten significantly clammy in the span of a minute or two.

“Headache,” you finish and state for him.

“Yeah.”

“Did we go back in time before medicine was a thing?” She jokes then tilts her head towards the direction of one of the bathrooms. “There’s painkillers in the medicine cabinet.”

“Uh I’m going to.. Yeah.” Jungkook scratches at the back of his neck and seems unsure before seeing himself out to grab for the bottle of pills.

“Please, don’t give me that look,” you beg once the embarrassment settles in and your cheeks start to warm up.

“No, I’m just happy is all.” She smiles in satisfaction. “Last time I checked, you were divorced to my son.”

You groan. “And I still am.”

“Then what was that?” She refers back to the scene she had unfortunately walked in on.

“A ploy to drag out time before hearing your questions about why he hasn’t been visiting as often as he should be,” you easily tattle.

She gasps.

Jungkook walks back in with two bottles in hand, eyes bouncing back and forth to each one. “It doesn’t matter which brand right? I brought out two just in case-“

“Jeon Jungkook,” his mother scowls.

He freezes and looks up to his infuriated mother, then pointedly looks at you before the gears turn in his head.

“You told her?”

You simply shrug and snatch both bottles away before his mother would start shifting her target towards him. “Thank you.”

You don’t bother to hear the scolding, instead, walking through the house to find where your daughter had drifted off to.

Mrs. Jeon takes some time to catch up with her son and gives you enough to rest from the prolonged car ride.

Small feet tap on the wooden floor and you try to search for the doe eyes and pouty lips that come with them.

“Yeona, where have you been?”

“With grandpa!” Then, she enthusiastically stomps. “He said my gifts are hiding from me.”

You chuckle. “Is that so?”

A bigger pair of feet walk in and Mr. Jeon looks flustered, as if he had done something he wasn’t supposed to do. His head angles down to Yeona and he explains, “I messed up! I was supposed to wait for Grandma to feed you guys before I said anything about birthday presents.”

Your mouth opens to reply that he was perfectly fine before large hands settle firmly on your shoulders. You squeak and jump, registering that it was only Jungkook when you whip around to face the culprit. “Seriously?”

“It’s payback,” he simply says. “I got scolded for fifteen minutes all because you decided to be a snitch.”

“Sorry.” You softly nudge. “She was assuming too much when she saw us.”

“Ah,” he realizes, and he suddenly seems okay with the thought of going down just for you. “I’ll have to talk to her again about doing that. Sorry.”

You dismiss it with a smile. “Just more worried about you. Poor baby,” you tease. “What? Did she make you face the wall for five minutes?” He scowls. “Jungkook, she misses you,” you reason.

“I know,” he mumbles. “I promised her I would be here more often.”

He has that look in his eye you are way too familiar with — when the gears start turning and he begins to overthink his whole entire schedule for the month, figuring out the time-slots—if he even has any free space for it.

“Hey,” you call, and he snaps out of it. “Don’t try to fill your family in your schedule as if they’re appointments. You’ll visit when you want to, okay? Not because you have to.”

He exhales and nods. “Right. I will.”

He then notices your features significantly brighter than the last time he’s taken them in, no more fatigued, so he asks, “Did you take the medicine?”

You nod. “I just took it, but moving around a bit is helping a lot already.

“That’s good.”

His brows furrow when he catches the expression on his dad. “Is he okay?”

You turn and observe him tailing your hyper daughter who has been checking every crevice of the house for any mere glimpse of eye-catching wrapping paper.

“Like father, like son,” is all you say and he stares on with no clue. “He’s literally a second away from hearing his own scolding.”

Mrs. Jeon walks in and shrieks. “You told her already—?!”

The man beside you sighs and questions out loud what on earth his father had done.

So, you explain, “They put on a scavenger hunt for Yeona’s gifts. Except, it was supposed to be after lunch.”

“Oh no.”

“Yeah.”

“You were supposed to wait so that I could take pictures for it!”

The older man’s hands get thrown up in defense. “She hasn’t found them yet, it’s fine.”

“What if she actually does?” She tests with a brow raised.

“Mom,” Jungkook calls and both of his parents finally turn to give him attention. “It’s alright. We can do the scavenger hunt now since we’ll be leaving soon.”

“You aren’t going to stay and eat?”

“Please don’t worry,” you kindly decline. “I’d feel bad if you were to cook something, just for us.”

She waves a hand carelessly in the air. “Nonsense! I want to do this for you. It’s been way too long since the last time I cooked for more than two people.”

Your elbow prods at Jungkook who lacks his own attention. You quickly send him a look, a silent message to stop her from whipping anything up when you wouldn’t have much time to properly eat it, given from your strict itinerary.

“We only have half an hour to be here before the next Ferry arrives,” he finally speaks up.

“Oh,” his mother dejects with a pout. “Well, that’s a shame.”

“Yeah, sorry mom.”

Your hip pushes against his side, and your throat clears. “We’ll come back and stay for dinner,” you promise.

“Please do,” she nods. “My son doesn’t even visit anymore.”

She plainly ignores Jungkook, whose mouth has dropped significantly. “Mom—! I told you I would visit more often.”

“Can’t even make a simple phone call,” she tsks. “Your ex-wife interacts with me at least three times a week—more than you ever did within a month.”

“Mom!”

Your hand lands on top of his shoulder, giving it a soft squeeze and sending his mother a smile of understanding. “We’ll be there. Promise.”

She sighs, hands smacking against her fruity apron and then clapping enthusiastically. “Alright, fine! Let me get my camera first.”

Her son groans. “Just use your phone.”

Her head shakes, already bending down and shuffling through the drawers, “But you got me that nice camera for Christmas! I haven’t used it yet.”

“Alright, fine,” he reluctantly obliges. “Dad, will you please give my daughter a hint? She’s going crazy here.” He points and your daughter is exactly there, crawling through the coffee table and easing herself to the next tiny space she can fit in.

“Baby, you’re going to hurt yourself,” you warn when she breezes through a few expensive-looking structures around the house, “Or break something.. Jungkook—!” You tug on his sleeve and push him to grab her before any mishaps could happen.

When Jungkook finally gets a hold of a squirmy Yeona, his father finally ushers everybody outside towards the direction of the backyard where the scavenger hunt is officially located.

“They just texted me that they’re already at the house,” Jungkook suddenly announces by the time Yeona finds her fourth present.

You double-check the time on your phone and worriedly ask, “Do you think we’re running late?”

His head shakes. “I doubt it. If anything, we’re probably on time. We left really early in the morning.”

You sigh out with both shoulders deflating and he notices. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” you ease. “Just worried, you know? This is the first year we aren’t doing a birthday party and she’s only turning six.”

“Hey,” he chuckles. “It’s not like these aren’t going to be a forever thing.”

“I know,” you groan and rub harshly at your temples. “I think I’m just so used to big gatherings, the amount of unnecessary attention, and the cake nobody eats because it’s all it really was for me growing up.” As much as the parties were for good intentions, it was never in a good way.

The only reason your mother was set on giving you a birthday party every year was for the pictures and some way into measly bragging about how well her life was going and not everybody else’s.

“And in no way I’m saying it as a way for Yeona to live through whatever I went through, but every year I try my best to plan something she wants.” You rub at your elbow unsurely with lips turned downwards. “For some reason, her not asking for one this year makes me think how much she didn’t like the others and how shitty I am for not seeing it much earlier.”

Yeona giggles when she picks out another that happens to be sneakily hidden snug between a few branches of a tree.

He shakes his head and calls for you softly. “Are you kidding? I’ve never seen her happier with every passing birthday you manage to outdo every year. Our daughter also has incredible confrontational skills - If she doesn’t like something, she’ll tell us regardless.”

You snort. “Right.” You grow nervous how serious he becomes when you catch onto his eyes and his front faces you so suddenly.

“She loves what you do every year,” he assures. He then reasons, “And maybe next year it’ll be different — she’s growing up.”

You slowly nod, handing him a laugh of disbelief. “Yeah. God, you’re right. Sorry.”

“Even standing here with a headache, you’re still worrying for nothing,” he scolds.

“I told you I already feel better,” you argue in return. “The medicine helped a bunch. I’m okay.” And for the next ten minutes, you ignore the side-eye full of concern overpowering on his side when he shoots you a glance. He’s known you since the start of his twenties, of course he would be able to pick out if you were lying or not.

“What’s the count?” Jungkook asks, eyes squinting from the bright sun casting down at the colorful yard.

His mother points the camera at him and raises a hand, “Number Five!”

“And how much in total?”

She pouts. “It wouldn’t be as much fun if I told you.”

“Mom.”

You shush him. “Leave her alone.”

“Six! Six! Six!” Yeona yells near the fence.

“You found the sixth one, sweetheart!” Jungkook’s father exclaims.

His mother curses and whips the camera back around. “I missed it!”

It’s comical when you watch it from afar, and a large smile blooms across your face at the three. “God,” you snort, quite endeared by the sight, “This is a mess. It’s cute.”

Jungkook stays behind alongside you to simply observe you and them, and he’s already memorizing every part and aspect of this moment to set aside for later.

Everything fell into place so perfectly, everybody belonging exactly where they were supposed to be.

“You really do look pretty today, _____.”

Eyes widening, you whip around to his figure with a questioned gaze.

He’s willing to repeat the words, let you know over and over until you grow tired of the repetitiveness, drown you in all of the compliments he’s thinking of right now.

But, you curtly nod and turn away. “T-Thanks.”

His hand reaches out, exactly to where yours is and his sight subconsciously falls on your fourth finger that was blank of a specific jewelry he put on you two years ago. It’s already been two fucking years and he still grows somber when his eyes catch onto where the diamond used to be.

No matter how many times he can confront it with his own eyes, stare at it for however long you would allow him to look, seek it every time it would raise or show itself — It still hurts nonetheless.

It’s exactly what makes him pull back and grip onto the chain tucked into his shirt, away from your eyes to see the charm that glints exactly like the first day you put it on him.

Finally having it be the middle of the day, you get to leave and head towards the station to get from Busan to Jeju.

The station is way more quiet than what you initially anticipated, it being the weekend and all, but the line barely lasts a minute, and you’re already boarding the ferry, right behind Yeona who holds her father’s hand tightly across the dock that transitions to the ship.

“Snacks?” Is the first thing Jungkook asks for when you all sit down and you quickly reach into Yeona’s backpack.

“All I have our a few baggies of rice-puffs and juice-boxes.”

“I want one!” Yeona intercepts, and greedy hands suddenly wave in front of your face.

“Alright, baby, hold on a minute.” You request and stare back up at Jungkook to propose the idea of sharing a muffin his mother offered last-minute when you slipped through the door to part ways. “There’s only two juice-boxes.”

Jungkook’s head shakes, going to decline the kind offer and allow you to have it before Yeona perks sweetly, “Daddy can share with me!”

His thumb and pointer softly caresses the supple cheek beneath it before landing a kiss on it and murmuring, “Always so sweet.”

Sitting back down, Yeona on Jungkook’s lap while you sit side-to-side, plastic cover of the muffin opened and lips pursed out to your own straw.

With Jungkook’s hands full, squirming daughter all over his lap, you make it easier for him by popping small pieces of the muffin in his open mouth.

You let out a laugh when you miss and watch a few chocolate crumbs dribble down his chin. “Sorry,” you murmur with a smile, fingers rubbing off some of where the chocolate smeared against his skin.

“Do you need a tissue?”

Turning to the nimble voice, you notice an elderly lady with a soft smile she carries so sweetly. “I’m sorry,” she laughs off. “I just noticed how much of a mess you’ve made on your husband.”

You both don’t flinch at the assumption, smiling back at her.

“Oh,” your voice brightens with a laugh of your own and bowing in your seat slightly, “Thank you so much for offering.”

She brings out a few from her own bag and reaches out over the seats, “Here.”

“Thank you again,” Jungkook says and she looks at you expectantly, practically requesting you to wipe off his mouth yourself. You jump at the realization and clear your throat with whatever protest that bubbled from within, and start with stiff fingers. You’ve already stuffed pieces of muffin in his mouth, what harm would it be to clean up the mess you’ve made? Except it’s completely different, not very easy doing the simple action with a bright-eyed old woman who seems very entertained by the aspect of it, all life returning to them when the tissue rubs at his bottom lip.

“Daddy,” Yeona taps. “Want off.”

His gentle grip on her tummy loosens and allows her to slide off of his legs to approach the woman. Your daughter gently waves and let’s her smile speak for itself, so easy to sway the woman when she was so used to doing this to every other person she meets daily.

“Hi there.” The woman waves back and bends her back more forward to reach Yeona’s level. “Where are you off to today?”

“Jeju!” She exclaims, and then boasts proudly, “It’s my birthday.”

The woman eggs her giddiness on by clapping gently, “Oh wow. What a wonderful place to celebrate your birthday!”

“Yes ma’am,” she agrees sweetly, hands clasped behind her back. “I told my Mommy and Daddy to bring me there and they said yes! We even rode all together here!”

The woman spares you an odd look at the figures Yeona points at, and you both refrain meeting her eyes that read about obviously riding together, you were married with a kid after all.

At least, to her eyes you were.

Unfortunately, the both of you lacked the guts to tell her the truth, and that this was just another day to simply tolerate each other more than you already do during the week.

Nothing more, nothing less.

The woman hums. “Your parents must love you a lot then. They look good together, too.”

It all seems too much, as if she was mocking you, and you immediately grow antsy at her nosy stare.

Luckily, after Yeona had her fair share in her frankly short conversation with the older woman, she left all of you alone for the rest of the ride.

“That was—” Jungkook starts.

“—Definitely new,” you finish.

“I don’t think I’ll ever be used to the assumptions of us still being together. It’s hard not to just blatantly say no so that they could get off of our backs for once.”

Your voice lowers a bit, just to make sure she can’t hear you from her corner-seat. “But we also have to understand their point,” you reason, “When people see both of us with a daughter, it’s easier to assume that we’re together.”

His head leans on the metal rod behind him, still listening with his eyes closed.

“Besides, I don’t really mind.”

His head shoots back into position and he stares with widened eyes. “Y-You don’t?”

Shrugging, your head shakes. “It’s better this way. I’d rather just go along with it than explain exactly why we’re separated, let them into something they have no business in being in.”

“Right,” he drags it. “Exactly,” and he says it more for himself to grip on, because fucking obviously. Not for any other reason but for convenience. Always for the best, and he was fine with it. Perfectly keen.

His head turns towards the water, and he squints, legs bouncing obnoxiously, Yeona whines. It’s only then you realize he’s decked out in all black, as usual, with beads of sweat running off his temple and onto his neck. It’s only worse when he’s seated exactly right under the sun, where the roof fails to give him any shade.

“You idiot,” you suddenly call and his brows furrow, whipping around to find you in a state of absolute worry, searching through your bag. “Out of all days, when we’d be outside, you’re wearing everything you’re not supposed to.”

His eyes widen and he stares down at his attire, sizzling back down into realization when he finally realizes the problem. “I’m fine,” he passes off cooly. “Yeona wanted the seat nearest to the water, and I figured you wouldn’t want to be under the sun this long.”

Before he can even come out with an argument, you’re already moving forward and grabbing Yeona off of his lap.

“What are you doing?”

“Come on,” you pat on his thigh, silently coaxing him to scoot. “We’ll trade spots. You can’t be under the sun like this.”

“_____..”

Your lips purse and stray down into a pout, and his heart falters, his argument pushed down his throat until he swallows it away. “Jungkook, I’m worried. I don’t even think you put on sunscreen today either.”

He’s fully aware how irked you get when he doesn’t follow the skincare regimen you set up for him. It’s especially the distress you hold in your eyes and lips when he forgoes the most important step of it all: suncare.

“Shit doesn’t even work,” he exasperates, and your eyes roll back.

“Say that to me when you’re fifty and covered with sun spots you’ll never be able to erase because you never wanted to listen to me.”

His bite comes without even a second thought, falling back into the banter he secretly misses, when it was comfortable to joke around you, tease you to no end, and drive you up the wall. “You’ll still like me that way, right?” He’s teasing now, and it’s clear when he raises his brows in expectancy, lighthearted and jokeful.

To your embarrassment, your cheeks tint pink and you don’t have enough pride to return his stare. The only thing you can really do is stammer severely and point at your purse. “J-Just put some on and leave me alone.”

He hands you a hearty and genuine laugh and you only try your best to ignore it, lips curving the same until you force them to stop from going any higher.

“Holy shit,” you gape. “It’s huge.”

“They’re loaded.”

“I-I can’t go in this, Jungkook.”

“You couldn’t have told me this before we went on a whole road trip and had me prepay tickets for a ferry ride here?”

You hit his arm. “Jungkook, I’m serious.”

He laughs. “Why exactly can’t you? It’s just a beach house.”

“This is too big for a six year old! A few candles from the fucking mall is never going to pay off the fact they are letting us have it for the weekend.”

“With their advision,” he reminds. Yeona stirs in her sleep from the backseat and Jungkook pins you a look. “Can we get out now?”

You hesitate. “How are you okay without thinking about being possibly indebted to Seokjin and Namjoon? First, they put out a car for us to drive here when we arrived, and now we’re staying in this? We’re being pampered.”

“Because I’ve been leeching off of Seokjin since I was a teenager, _____,” he states, nimbly remembering when he would depend on a few meals paid from him and even to now - being roommates with the older man. “He’s fine with it. He offered first, after all. We’re just following orders,” he defends so easily.

Reluctantly, you climb out of the car, crossed arms from your chest, heading towards the back to take out your daughter from her carseat. With a soft nudge and a kiss to her cheek, her eyes shot back open with the realization that this was the last stop, that she was finally here. “M-Mommy, look!”

“I know,” you coo, “I was just as shocked as you are now.”

She moves quickly, already releasing the buckle and sliding down to the car floor. She still requests to be picked up like a princess when her arms span out for you, and of course, you oblige.

“Jungkook,” you call. “Are you getting the bags?”

The trunk shuts, keys jingling in his hand, “Already on it.”

When you reach the porch, Yeona eagerly leans towards the right of the door to ring the bell.

It only takes three seconds for Kim Seokjin to open it with a wide smile. “Welcome!”

Yeona squeals, legs kicking all over the place and you finally set her down for her to enter first. Not before giving her uncle’s leg a big squeeze of her own, “Thank you, Uncle Jinnie! Love it so much!”

He chuckles, smoothing down her hair, “Anything for the birthday girl! You haven’t even taken a look around yet, sweetheart. Go find Uncle Joon and he’ll show you everything.”

“Okay!” Her form is only a blur when she rushes out.

He smiles. “You guys are on time,” and he says it like it’s a complete surprise.

A brow arches. “When are we not?”

“New years,” he recalls. “You both made it five minutes late after the countdown.”

Jungkook slips behind you to set the bags down. “That’s not fair.”

You agree. “Yeona was two years old that year. She had a hard time handling the fireworks. I had to coax her to sleep through the phone that night.”

His head tilts in reason, “Fair.”

Jungkook nudges you. “Where do you want these?”

You shrug, turning to Seokjin. “Depends where you want us, Jin.”

“It’s up to you guys. Taehyung and Jimin already took two of the guest rooms. There’s only three more.”

“Kiumin is sleeping over, so they can have one room,” you calculate. “And Hyejin’s coming with Kiumin, so we can split.”

The older man stares wide-eyed at his roommate. Jungkook stares back with the same expression, so Seokjin asks for him, “Split?”

You’re too busy with some of the messages on your phone regarding birthday wishes to your daughter, vaguely returning them with typed out thank you’s and kissy faces. “Yeah.”

“Does that mean you and—“

You send him an odd stare before turning around and grabbing onto your own bags, disregarding Jungkook’s. “Of course not—? I’m rooming with Hyejin and Jungkook can have the extra room to himself.”

“.. Right.”

“Is it this way?” You ask without a clue to the men behind you.

“Uh, yeah! Let me help you,” Seokjin rushes.

Jungkook is left at the doorway, all alone and with his own bags and a fuming heart that drags as if the slim possibility of what would have happened was anything more to go by.

It’s nighttime now.

You’ve directed Hyejin to your room and have let her unpack while you watched over Yeona and her little boy.

Your knees bend into a crouch, the familiar smell of chlorine filling your senses when you near the water.

Jungkook's hair flicks back when his fingers push through them and the blue rays of the water reflect against his chest. His collarbones glisten against the minimal light the night provides, making it harder to strictly set your eyes forward and stray away from anything that wasn’t his own.

“You couldn’t have waited a second for everyone to settle in before dipping into the pool?”

He pouts. “Why?”

Head tilting, you pin him a stare and direct your eyesight towards the pink floatie in the corner, swaying calmly. “Because Yeona’s been eyeing that giant flamingo and now she’s asking to hop in with you.”

“Let her in, then. Namjoon’s already here.”

Your head turns to the outdoor bar and they pin the figure reading a book with amusement when he sends off a small wave.

“But then Kiumin..”

Hyejin walks in with a relaxed sigh at the sight in front of her when she passes through the widened double-doors. “Too bad it’s nighttime. I could’ve been tanning.”

“Hyejin!” You gawk at her bikini. “You’re going in too?”

She nods in an obvious answer. “Kiumin’s been begging me to let him jump in since we’ve gotten here, and with a view like this — how could I say no?”

Jungkook points. “See? Our friend is obviously taking the advantage of being here.”

“We are way far from friends, Jeon,” she practically snarls back. “It’s almost insulting when you say it like that.”

“Hyejin,” you warn, and turn back to the man standing in the waist-deep side of the pool now.

Ignoring your friend’s hatred fueled statements, he coaxes. “Come on,” he lulls. “Taehyung and Jimin are already planning to jump in too.”

Your head shakes in decline, “I can’t. I didn’t even pack a swimsuit, only Yeona’s.”

“I have one laying out for you in the room,” Hyejin pitches and your eyes widen significantly. “It’s the one I’ve been meaning to give you.”

“Perfect!” Seokjin claps by the doors, tray full of glasses and the two children following right behind him. “We can start having a pool party!” They immediately cheer and your mind starts to reel in defeat.

You rub your arms shyly, “I-I’m fine. I don’t really feel like swimming right now..”

Hyejin snorts. “Don’t even lie. We used to be obsessed with the pool when we were kids. We can do it again for old times’ sake! Show our kids where they got it from.”

“Literally, what does that have to do with anything in wanting to swim? Aren’t kids naturally drawn to the pool, because it’s a pool?” You grit.

“I’m just saying to take the chance and relax,” she stresses and her arms extend, waving around carelessly. “We’re here!”

“You’re going to miss out if you don’t get in,” Jungkook bets, and he knows how much you despise being the outsider while everyone had their share of fun. You loathed the plain idea of it. “Just put the bikini on and stop being a pussy.”

“J-Jungkook!”

Childish. Absolutely childish.

You hear footsteps approaching right behind you, the vow reaching your ears. “I’ll only jump in if we do it together.”

Taehyung’s head shakes side to side, eyes narrowing at the shorter man with apprehension. “You pull back every fucking time we do it. I won’t fall for it again.”

Jungkook’s throat clears at the two and he orders his friends, “Tell _____ to get in the pool.”

Taehyung’s brow furrows, “She doesn’t want to? It’s the pool—and we’re in Jeju!”

You stubbornly shake your head. “Don’t care.”

Jimin has a teasing glint in his eye, something you dislike a lot when it’s crystal clear he has something stirring up in his sick head of his, especially since Taehyung had turned down the proposal of his playful and expectant joke.

“We can—grab her and push her in?” He suggests.

“That’s elementary school shit, Jimin,” you warn. “Get away from me.”

He’s inching closer and you’re nervously sputtering for Jungkook, helplessly calling for him to get his friend from throwing you in the water so carelessly.

Luckily, a small hand grapples onto you and it’s Yeona with eager feet who stops Jimin in his tracks. “Mommy, t-the pink birdie!”

You have a staring contest with it, the one side of the floating flamingo’s eye stares back at you and you exhale a puff before finally standing back up. “Alright, come on. Let’s get dressed.”

The white bikini on you terrifies you enough to cross your arms over yourself and skirt around the edge of the pool until you reach the chairs where Hyejin sits.

No one’s noticed yet. Not when Jungkook and the rest were already in the pool, putting on the floaties for the children who sat on the pathed ledges made of stone. At some point, you can see both of Jungkook’s eyes completely wiped out and squeezed shut when Yeona excitedly flaps her arms around the water, hyper to get in.

“Hyejin,” you hiss out, finally reaching your friend.

She hums with furrowed brows, too distracted in trying to connect her phone to the bluetooth speaker.

“Why in the world would you give me something like this. I-It’s too much,” you whimper out weakly.

Her eyes roll back. “It’s a bikini, _____. Remember those? I bet you look great—“ She screeches, chin dropping, hands hovering over her mouth. You flinch, just as shocked as she was, shushing her to shut up before anyone even has the chance in blinking your way.

“Holy shit.”

Eyes squeezing shut, you shy in on yourself, carefully taking the wooden pool-chair beside her. “Please, shut up.”

Her arms raise, “I haven’t said anything—yet.”

You scowl. “You seriously couldn’t have given me any other fucking set? Like a wetsuit? This is too weird for me.”

She cackles. “Relax,” she attempts to ease. “Why are you so freaked out? It’s just a swimsuit.”

Your head knocks back against the wood and you sigh tiredly. “It’s been way too long since I’ve worn something like this. Something not.. Mom-ish.”

“And why not? This literally proves how much of a Milf you really are!” She stresses.

You shrug shyly. “I haven’t had much of a reason to.”

“Well, I’m begging you to. Seriously, _____,” she reassures.

You quietly break into a laugh, smacking at her arm harshly.

“Where’s mommy?” You hear Jungkook suddenly ask, and you think you’re a hundred percent fucked.

Yeona’s voice is muffled against your ex-husband’s chest, incoherently explaining, “Mommy was already running away when we got outside.”

“Running away?”

“Yeah! Kind’ve like a ninja. She was there and then—poof!”

You don’t even announce your bathroom break to Hyejin, standing up and rushing over towards the doors that were close yet so far away.

It would only be a second before you would reach it, and straight into changing back to the sundress that was always deemed as safe.

Part of you wishes that you could parade around with no care, being so long since you’ve gone out in something like this. But another part that tears you completely, thinks about Kim Seol and how different she is compared to you.

With stark personalities and looks, you most likely would have never even thought about comparing you from her. But now that Jungkook was going out with her, everything’s changed, and your mind reels into thinking how in the world he had the chance of going to someone else completely different from you, and if he even liked you in the first place, relationship and marriage long forgotten, not even being considered in this context.

You weren’t exactly sure how long this feeling would last, and maybe it wouldn’t, sticking to all of the new relationships he would continue to open up now that he was available.

Sure, he’s seen you plenty of times in bed and in the shower from the past years of being together. But this is now and before he had anything younger, more vibrant.

This was possibly the only thing you could take away from him. Seeing anything physical to compare you with another was the only thing you truly, absolutely wished for.

You accidentally collide against something. Hard and wide.

And when you eventually look up, you’re relieved to only find Namjoon with a bag of chips in hand.

“Shit, are you okay?”

“I-I’m fine, Joon. Sorry for—running?”

He chuckles, pointing back to his boyfriend back inside of the house. “Save it for the lifeguard, but he’s off-duty right now mixing margaritas for everyone.”

You attempt to let out the same energy of a laugh as his, but it all turns dry and brittle, making him halt and inspect. “You okay, _____?”

“O-Of course I am.”

A few murmurs are made at the back of your figure until a small voice calls out, “Mommy! Over here!”

Letting out a small gasp, you reluctantly turn around, weakly mustering a smile and avoiding the eyes that officially lay on you when he notices.

“Hi, baby.”

“Mommy!” She splashes. “Swim with me and daddy!”

“U-Uh..”

“Looks like your daughter wants you to get in the pool.”

Turning back to Namjoon, you stiffly nod, “Yeah.”

“If you’re worried about the temperature, don’t worry. It’s heated.”

Far from your true concern, you manage to give him a thumbs-up and head back to the very place you’ve been trying to escape.

“I’ll be there in a minute, okay? Let me go get Aunt Hyejin first.” It’s truly for your sake more than for hers, a cry for help in a situation you could have easily avoided if you had just never put the bikini on. “I hate this,” you managed to mutter against your breath when you finally reached her. “I’m never listening to you ever again.”

She yelps when you rip the towel away from her, tugging tightly at her arm, urging her to get up. “Hey!” She pouts.

“Come on,” you order. “Yeona wants to swim and I am not doing this alone.”

She sits up and observes, quietly biting on a sly chuckle when she notices.

“What now?”

“Nothing,” she waves off. “It’s just—your ex is making googly eyes right now.”

You groan, stomping impatiently. “Hyejin, stop lying and get up.”

“I’m not lying,” she pleads. “I swear — I’m looking at him right now!”

“I don’t care,” you deadpan.

When she finally stands, you put a death-grip on her arm and timidly walk towards the pool.

“Ouch.”

“Sorry,” you sheepishly say, releasing a bit.

It’s a pleasant feeling when the warm water wets the bottom surface of your feet, and your shoulders subconsciously relax when your waist-deep.

Hyejin coos at her little boy, proud of her son when she watches Jimin help, something more in her eyes that go starry at the man who leads him through the water.

“Thanks, Hyejin,” you whisper.

“Ah, don’t worry about it,” she pats softly at your arm. “I know how nervous you are and all. Just don’t, okay? You’ll be fine.”

You weakly smile at her again before finally sending her off.

When she moves out of your view and directly towards Jimin and her son, you find Yeona eagerly waiting for you.

Taehyung has his eyes blown at the sight of you, whistling with your name trapped between his lips, which exactly makes you wrap your arms tighter around yourself. Of course, he’s teasing, the natural flirt in him most likely powering over him.

Fortunately, you’re saved when he gets whacked with a strong push of water, Jungkook’s doing. You don’t notice it when your daughter cutely dog-paddles towards you.

All is forgotten, smile setting on your lips.

“Mommy! Stay right there, okay? I’ll swim to you.”

“Oh,” you perk, arms already rising beneath the water. With the long distance, you subtly move forward when her legs kick to make it easier on her, and within a few seconds, she’s splashing against your arms with a squeal.

You giggle. “Are you having fun?”

“So much, mommy!” She exclaims. “Daddy threw me up high when I wanted a splash.”

You gasp with a smile, nerves diminishing. “Really? I wish I was there to see it.”

“Are you too cold?” A voice asks from behind her and you hesitantly face Jungkook, always polite and concerned for your well-being, except there was definitely something else in his eyes you weren’t able to pinpoint and didn’t bother to anyway, now that you were in the water.

You stiffly smile and shake your head. “I’m fine. The water feels really nice.”

He nods. “T-That’s good.”

God, he feels like it’s high school all over again, having no utter idea in starting a conversation with a girl, wanting to, but not even knowing exactly how.

Still, he can’t stop the burning stare, even when your attention zeroes back in on Yeona.

The nice music sets a comforting nuance around the place, hearing splashes coming from everywhere, specifically when Seokjin’s yelling resonates from the chairs when Taehyung targets him with a cheeky grin.

“The slices of watermelon are here, you dick!” He scowls.

Jimin butts in with a scold to the older man, telling him to censor his words around the children.

Jungkook doesn’t have time to hear the continued argument when he’s hit with an expectant splash of water of his own.

He doesn’t even need to ask a second later when he hears the both of you giggling. Wiping away the drops on his face and in his eyes, he brushes strands of hair back to get a good look at the satisfied looks on both of your faces. He approaches slowly.

Your head shakes, already aware of what Jungkook was doing — getting his revenge.

“I-It was Yeonie’s idea!”

She only giggles louder, knowing fully well she would easily be the untouched one out of this.

“Jungkook, I swear to god if you do anything to me-“

Your warning goes straight out when strong arms turn you around to face your daughter. Fully wrapping them around your form for a slim chance of being able to escape, you hear a soft chuckle against your ear.

“I think it’d be fun to splash mommy, huh?” He teases and you tense.

“Jungkook—!”

“Yeah, let’s do it!” She pumps a tiny fist from out of the water.

“Sweetheart, no! Listen to me-“

Your nose scrunches, hair whipping with you to cover your face when she splashes. Jungkook helps along the way by releasing an arm and moving some of the water forward against you to hit you square in the face. His wave comes stronger and does an excellent job at soaking you completely.

You gasp, wiping some of the water away from your face. “Okay, please, I’m sorry,” you whine, gripping his wrists softly, eyes squeezed shut.

He falters at the frail sight of you, easily making you his biggest weakness.

“It’s okay, mommy,” Yeona speaks up first. “I forgive you.”

“Hey!” You scoff with a pout. “It wasn’t even my idea.”

Her eyes crease and she giggles loudly.

“_____!” Hyejin suddenly calls, and your chin tilts up to find your best friend. “Kiumin wants to play with the birthday girl.”

Yeona eagerly looks up at you and you simply nod with a smile, letting her small legs kick and float over to her best friend.

“Ah,” you realize, now being all alone. “I think I should go now.”

Still, with his arms wrapped around you, he leans closer, “What, why?” And it’s needy, wanting to pull you closer than what he already has. “Can’t you stay?”

“Yeona’s all the way over there and we’re..” Exes with barely anything to talk about or to get along in general. It wasn’t in the book you’ve written out for yourself and probably never will be. “I-I have to get her cake ready. Your mom worked really hard on it.”

“I’ll help you put the candles on it,” he quickly offers. “Just.. Just stay here with me for a while.”

A brow raises and you turn in his arms. “And do what?”

He feigns in thinking about it, sharp jaw tilting for you to settle your eyes on.

Seokjin interrupts with a call of his name and a raised brow at the sight.

You clear your tight throat and gulp when he hands Jungkook a towel. “Your phone is ringing,” and then carefully gives it to him over the water.

You observe him as he answers. “Hello?”

A female voice is heard on the other end and you sense the way he pulls back a bit, that it was Seol. Her muffled voice is enough to push you back into reality and to what exactly you were doing before the call.

“Ah, hey..” He awkwardly greets, nodding to whatever she was saying. Your head turns away when his eyes land on yours and you feign interest at the potted plant set right next to the door that led inside. “I’m at the house now with.. Everyone else.”

He chokes up a bit when she says another thing, and you don’t understand until he returns the words.

“I—I miss you too.”

Swallowing harshly, your expression hardens, and you begin to pull back.

“I’ll call you later tonight, alright?” He assures, almost in a rush. Your ears catch some of her words, not really interested in any of the conversation anyway, wanting to create a distance between you and Jungkook before anything else would happen, before you would hear something else you wouldn’t want to be hearing at all.

Finally hanging up, he takes a slow breath in and sets the phone at the side of the pool.

You finally pull away from him completely.

“_____.”

You give a curt smile. “Yeah?”

His head shakes. “Nothing. It’s just.. Are you okay?”

You nod, slightly with bewildering eyes, asking, “Why wouldn’t I be?” Then, you laugh softly. “We’re not married anymore, Jungkook.” He stiffens, jaw ticking and eyes shifting to catch your flat expression. “And from what I clearly remember — you’re seeing someone else.” You point towards the phone laying carelessly on top of the stone.

For once, you feel bad for the poor girl who’s probably wondering when his goodnight text from him would be.

You keep your eyes on his hands that sink and submerge into the water, and back to his sides.

“Just because it’s our daughter's birthday does not entail us playing family again,” you mumble. “You took that all away from me two years ago, Jungkook.”

He doesn’t say anything, shamefully looking down at the waves in the pool caused by Yeona a few feet away. A reminder that was given way too late.

You nod again, turning slowly around. “I’m going to go get the cake ready. I’ll ask Hyejin to help.”

With the distance you’ve given him, he finally looks up and finds a disapproving look being given by his own roommate, who had seen and observed every single second of the two of you together since being in the pool.

He understood exactly why.

Everybody eventually makes their way out of the pool and back into the house to hang out at.

The same subtle music speakers through the house, the kids being fully entertained by the large television in the living room, and the inside of the house being overall in a mood and feeling that definitely differs from your own thoughts that constantly circle around your head.

Whatever Jungkook was getting at in the pool, definitely wasn’t sitting with you right. And frankly, everything leading up to it too.

The process of the divorce was already stripping and tiring enough, finalizing the documents and who would get exactly what was already overwhelming enough, but to throw all of that away and not even consider it when you’re wrapped in the arms you were so accustomed to was entirely stressful.

It didn’t make sense. It never did when it came to him.

“Yeonie, are you getting sleepy already?” You ask across the room from the kitchen as you watch your little girl yawn and squirm on top of the fluffy carpet she lays on.

Her head stubbornly shakes with a pout set on her lips.

Glancing at the clock sat beside her, it was only eight, but judging from the exertion taken place at the pool, Yeona must have been exhausted.

Your feet move to where she lays lazily, crouching down and moving her towards your lap, you murmur, “Stay awake for me, baby. You haven’t even blown the candles or opened your presents yet.”

She yawns in protest and nuzzles her nose further into your neck. “Not even a nap?”

Chuckling softly, probably making it worse for her when your fingers trace against her back, you repeat, “Not even a nap.” Saying it exactly knowing what that would entail, Yeona misinterpreting what a nap and sleep was more often than not.

Jungkook comes back with damp hair and sweats, black socks shuffling through the floor until they reach you.

“Hey,” you greet, looking down at the sleepy-head in your arms. “She’s tired.”

He hums, crouching down with an endeared smile. “I can see.”

“I swear,” you promise to Yeona, patting her back. “Dinner is almost done and then you can go to sleep, alright?” Your eyes search for Jungkook’s and you request, “Keep her awake while I get everything ready?”

His arms stretch and extend out, and you pass off the small body in your arms.

His lips instinctively purse to a gentle shush and rocks her gently when he feels her squirm.

You glare. “I said keep her awake, not encourage her to count the sheep.”

He winces. “This is new! Usually I’m doing the exact opposite.” He lifts her head, and begins his futile attempts in keeping her eyes open. “Alright, sweetheart. What mommy says, it always goes, so you’re going to have to help me out here, okay?”

She mumbles incoherently.

“Come on,” he nudges, “Up.”

“Play that dancing game she likes,” you suggest.

Taehyung from the couch, perks at that. “God, I love that game,” inputting himself in the conversation and inviting himself a second later, “Please count me in.”

“You think they have any games like that for kids?” He specifies with a swift look at his friend and Taehyung sends a throw pillow his way.

Seokjin quickly dissipates it with a scold of how much the pillows cost and which country they were exactly from.

You eye the bar full of wires and game controllers, easily making the assumption quickly, “With the eight different consoles I’m staring at, they must.”

His head dips down. “How does that sound, baby? You want to dance?”

Yeona’s completely untouchable when she’s grumpy, so it doesn’t come to a surprise when her arms reels back to try to smack her father away from talking to her anymore.

Luckily, he dodges it.

But as her eyes open wider and catches an eyeful of Jungkook dancing along with Kiumin and Taehyung twenty minutes later, she ends up joining them in the end, the same jittery moves she first walked in with.

You pull Hyejin out of her light conversation with Jimin, opting to question her tinted cheeks for later when it would be time to head to bed.

Of course, Hyejin will want to pry whenever and wherever, deeming it acceptable when it’s noisy enough with the conversations and laughs airing through it. “Want to talk about it?” Hyejin, located beside you who unwraps the carefully decorated box, asks carefully.

You feign cluelessness to the subject. “Not sure about what.”

She pins you a stare. “Come on. I saw what happened. Everybody did.”

Shrugging, you grab the candles, sticking them carefully, three on top and three at the bottom. You would’ve gotten the actual number six, but Jungkook had argued that it would be more fun for your daughter to blow as many candles as she can, the singular candle not being enough for a kid’s satisfaction.

“I don’t know,” you start unsurely. “It’s just weird, is all. It’s always hot and cold when I’m with him — having weird moments happen every so often and reminding him where the line starts and ends, and then acting perfectly poised when Yeona’s there.”

Her back hits the counter as she leans, arms crossed and head shaking. “This needs to stop, _____,” she says honestly. “He can’t keep going back and forth like this, completely forgetting everything else that happened — you’re broken up for a reason.”

“Forget it,” you dismiss with a bite to your lip. “It’s not like I stopped him on time. For a second, I forgot about everything too.”

She’s visibly stumped, stern expression faltering and letting the silence bloom, other than the outdated pop music and stomping in the background.

“_____..”

“I’m not going to sit here and blame him for every little thing that I could have controlled myself if I just stayed in my own lane,” distressed hands and fingers pull against your hair and you sigh out, eyes closing shut and feet swaying a little. The throbbing in your head continues and pulls at you venomously, like it couldn’t get enough from the first time.

Hyejin’s eyes widen and she rushes over to you in full concern. “Babe, are you okay?”

You nod, even if your furrowed brows clearly show the opposite. “Of course,” you pass off, eyes darting to the same place they’ve been at all night.

He’s still dancing and smiling.

“He’s not my husband anymore.”

And you say it again, wanting it to stick inside of your head until it fully processes, that it’s your fault just as much as his, for playing against the papers and agreements you’ve spent so many nights and days over. A constant reminder for the rest of your life, and not the other. Not the one that consists of vows and promises. Never that one anymore.

You muster a quick smile, turning to her gaping mouth who yearns to reach out, but you refuse it when you turn the corner, beginning to set everything up at the main table.

“Is the birthday girl ready?” Your voice drags, upbeat lilt feigning the pounding in your head.

High pitched squeals resound from the main room and their small feet bounce against the hardwood.

Jungkook follows suit.

“Me!” Yeona calls excitedly, “It’s me, Mommy!”

“Woah,” Kiumin gapes. “You’re cake is awesome, Yeonie!”

She giggles and hops on her tippy-toes to get a peek, “Thanks! My grandma made it.”

“Oh,” Kiumin nods. “She’s awesome.”

You chuckle softly at the kids, smiling down at the cute cake. You go to pull out your phone for pictures and videos to make sure she would see her work being fully appreciated.

Jungkook hoists Yeona up on the chair, her lifted cheeks and glittering eyes proving her excitement when she sees the candles already lit.

“Has it already been six years, already?” Seokjin asks in disbelief, plates and forks already in his hand to set down on the table.

You nod, pouting and squishing one of her cheeks, “Already a big girl.”

Yeona hums, “Basically a grown-up now!”

Hyejin bursts in laughter, everybody following right behind.

“Alright,” Jungkook sighs, arms circling around her softly, placing a kiss on the top of her head. Fondly staring down at his rapidly growing little girl, the same feeling you hold to your chest. “Don’t need to rub it into our faces, miss.”

Your camera clicks on its own, a fond smile subconsciously forming.

“Are we ready to sing?” Namjoon timidly asks. You turn to find him weary at the sight on the wax that begins to drip rapidly. “It’s just—the candles are starting to melt.”

You laugh, nodding. “Alright, let’s sing.”

It starts off normal, a little bit muted, until Kiumin bursts into a full performance for his best friend. Until Seokjin follows along and throws in an impromptu dance routine. Her father and the others join in right after, impressed at how eerily good it actually looked, almost looking rehearsed. But then you familiarize yourself with the sharp moves, the hands and arms showcasing that it was the corny traffic dance Seokjin taught them all a few years back on one drunk night.

Until eventually everybody does their best in throwing Yeona in a fit of giggles.

You join her side and guide her into making a wish, clamping her hands shut and scrunching her eyes closed, until the commotion quiets and she opens her eyes with hopefulness written all over it.

Kiumin is the first to question through the silence. “What’d you wish for, Yeonie?”

She simply smiles, glancing at you from her side, and then moving her gaze straight to Jungkook.

She subtly shakes her head, voice so soft, almost completely blurred into a whisper, “If I tell you, it’ll never come true.”

* .✫*ﾟ･ﾟ｡.☆.*｡･ﾟ✫*. * .✫*ﾟ･ﾟ｡.☆.*｡･ﾟ✫*.* .✫*ﾟ･ﾟ｡.☆.

hi, i’m back omg. i had to take some time away bc midway of finishing this up, literally a few paragraphs away, i ended up having my mental health spiral down. but now, i’m better and managed to finish this part.

also please tell me ur thoughts! i crave validation n use ur feedback as my fuel towards anything i write. :]

* .✫*ﾟ･ﾟ｡.☆.*｡･ﾟ✫*. * .✫*ﾟ･ﾟ｡.☆.*｡･ﾟ✫*.* .✫*ﾟ･ﾟ｡.☆.

#mine #bts #bts fanfic #bts angst #bts smut #bts fluff #jeon jungkook #jeon jeongguk #jungkook #jungkook fic #jungkook drabble #jungkook scenarios #jungkook fluff #jungkook smut #jungkook angst #full stop

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muwur · 4 years

Note

hello can I request tendou, kogane, ushijima, and lev reacting to their s/o who really liked painting on their hands, like some kind of pattern or fruits 👉👈

painted hands

♡ drabbles ♡ for ushijima, tendou, koganegawa & lev

❧ gn reader

✎ 1.6k words

a/n: hello lov, ty for the request! sry it took so long to dish it out ;c i made them into short drabbles/scenarios rather than hc’s, ik u didnt specify but hope thats oki!

have a wonderful day! <3

requests: open

ushijima

Ushijima woke up to sunlight peeking through the crack of the blinds. He sat up and stretched his arms upwards, blinking away lingering remnants of sleep from his eyes. The side of your bed was empty; only crumpled sheets and a pillow still marked by the indent of your head remained. Curious, he got up, making his way downstairs and into the kitchen, where he found you sitting at the dining table, paintbrush in hand. His eyes softened as he approached you and placed a palm on your shoulder.

“What are you doing?”

The sound of his deep voice coupled with the warmth of his firm hand made you jump in your seat, jostling you from your thoughts. The brush in your hand painted a streak of red across your fist, overlapping another painted strawberry.

“Ushi, don’t sneak up on me!”

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to.”

You turned to face him, a slight pout on your lips. Raising your hand, you showed him the many painted strawberries adorning your skin.

“I felt like painting something and eating strawberries, so here,” you explained as your lips curved upward into a small smile. “Luckily, a little water’s enough to get rid of this streak I made here...”

You snatched a table napkin and dipped a corner into your cup of paintwater. Carefully, you dabbed at the red mark, moving upwards to slowly rub it off your skin. Ushijima focused on the intense care and concentration in your gaze, admiring the way your brows furrowed slightly and eyelashes kissed the tops of your cheeks as you blinked.

“There! I’m done,” you grinned as you revealed your completed work. “What do you think?”

He stared at the painted hand you held before him for several seconds before he brought it closer with his own hand and placed a soft kiss to it.

“I like it. It looks nice, like you.”

Embarrassment started to settle in as he lowered your hand from his face, only to be replaced by amused huffs of laughter. Covering your mouth to stifle your giggles, you pointed at Ushijima’s mouth, now peppered with small, faint, red blobs of wet paint.

“Y-You got a little s-something on your face...!” you managed to blurt out despite your chuckles. You snapped a quick picture of his blotched, confused face then continued to type away on your phone before setting it back down on the table.

His brows furrowed in response. “Aren’t you going to show me?”

“Nah. But Tendou will!”

tendou

“You’re sure taking your sweet time.”

You rolled your eyes playfully at his comment, continuing to stroke the paintbrush along the back of his hand.

“Hey, I’m just making sure it looks nice. You’re the one who asked me to do this,” you reminded him.

He smirked through closed eyes, leaning back against the bed frame slowly. “I thought it’d look cute for the upcoming game and I can show it off to my team~ I didn’t realize how long it took, though.”

The bed creaked as he shifted. “Can I stretch my legs out, though? I’m losing circulation, babe.”

You paused your work to move over, allowing him to uncross his legs and spread them along the mattress. He took the opportunity to hook one over your lap. You had to refrain from rolling your eyes once more.

Dipping the tip of your brush in your palette, you positioned his hand on top of his thigh and resumed painting on his skin. You moved carefully, making sure to form the shapes you wanted. You took another brush, one with a smaller tip, and created several criss-crossing lines. Meawhile, Tendou hummed contentedly.

“You’ve been listening and singing to nothing but that song for the past two weeks,” you groaned. “It was catchy first, but now it’s just too much, bro.”

“How else am I gonna pass the time? I’m likewise getting a tad tired so why don’t you hurry up, hm?”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m almost there. Be patient.”

Another 5 minutes of his increasingly loud (and annoying) humming passed by before you set down your brush on the nightstand.

“Done! You can open your eyes now.”

“Finally!” he exclaimed, eyelids fluttering open. His red eyes glittered with excitement when he brought his hand to his face, examining the brown circles and criss-crossed tan triangles that adorned his skin. A upward curl graced his lips as his eyes traveled from his hand to your expectant gaze.

“Chocolate ice cream cones?” he questioned with amusement.

“Your favorite treat!” you retorted.

He chuckled. “Actually,” he said as he leaned forward, using his other hand to guide your head in close for a peck to the forehead.

“You’re my favorite treat.”

koganegawa

“Y/n!” you heard your boyfriend call. He was bounding up the grassy hill towards your spot in the shade, a paper bag in his right hand. When he reached you, he set down the bag and leaned down to give you a quick kiss on your head, taking a seat next to you, cross legged. He leaned into your shoulder, peering down at your hands and the paintbrush in them.

“Ooh, what’re you painting?” he asked, unable to make out where you were going with the few splotches on the back of your hand. He held your hand up closer to his face, squinting. “Yellow circles?”

“Yes, but noo,” you answered, snatching your hand back and hiding it from view. Teasingly, you added, “You’ll see~ It’s a surprise. Don’t look until I’m done.”

“Whaat? Why can’t I know?” Koganegawa complained, leaning closer in an attempt to grab your hand back. In seconds, he managed to topple you both over the picnic blanket. Squirming underneath his weight, you retaliated by pushing his face back and stretching your arm out of reach.

“Because you can’t!” you shouted between laughs. Successfully shoving Koganegawa off, you staggered onto your feet and dashed behind the nearby tree for safety.

“Aw, c’mon, just tell me, pleeasseeee,” he pleaded as he got onto his knees.

“No.”

Silence followed for several seconds before he sighed in defeat. “Fine. But eat with me while the food’s still warm. I’m starving!”

Two rice bowls, a large lemonade, and several sneak attacks from Koganegawa later, you waved a hand over your boyfriend’s eyes. He was laying down on the blanket, arms behind his head as he stared at the sunlight-freckled green leaves overhead.

“Okay, dummy, you can see it now,” you joked.

He sat up and took your outstretched palm, turning it over. His eyes widened at the sight of yellow chicks with familiar, brown tufts on their heads. Unable to resist gawking at their cuteness, he gaped at your work.

“This is so cute, y/n! What are these brown little hair thingies, though?”

You rolled your eyes and raised your hand to play with a strand of his own brown little hair thingy. “I based these baby chicks off you!”

His mouth formed an “o” as realization sunk in. “Huh. Do I really look like this?” he asked, holding up your hand next to his face for you to compare.

“Hmmm,” you rubbed your chin in fake thought, looking back and forth between your painting and your boyfriend’s curious expression. “Yes. You’re a bit cuter, though.”

“N-No, you...”

lev

You couldn’t help but feel touched when you noticed the childish wonder in Lev’s eyes as he watched you paint small mangoes across your hand. Dipping your brush into the green paint, you finished off your final fruit with two leaves. You spent several seconds blowing on the paint, forcing your piece to dry faster, then offered your hand to your boyfriend.

Before you could ask him what he thought, however, he was already showering you with compliments.

“Woah, y/n, how are you so talented? This looks even better than those pineapples you did last time, and those were really good! I love this, uh, this gradient -- is that what they call it -- you put here with the orange and yellow! You should do avocados next!”

You huffed with amusement. “Thanks, Lev. I didn’t know you were so into fruit. Or art. Or fruit art.”

He shrugged, smiling. “I just like to see you do what you do best. Other than being the best partner, it’s painting these little fruits on your hand!”

A knock was heard on the door and a voice called out, “Lyovochka? I made some snacks and tea for you and y/n.”

The door cracked open to reveal Alisa’s bright eyes and radiant smile. Once her gaze fell upon the paint bottles at your side, it shifted over to your hand, blotched with an array of yellow, orange, and green.

“Oh, y/n, I didn’t know you liked painting! May I see?” she asked excitedly, opening the door slightly wider.

“Of course,” you answered, extending your hand out for her to look.

She stepped inside and gently took your hand to observe the painted fruits. “It’s adorable, I love it!” she swooned. “After snacks, could you paint some for us, too? Or teach us?”

“Having oranges on my hand as I spike the ball does sound kinda cool...” Lev thought aloud.

“Heh, only if you don’t miss,” you said jokingly, pinching one of his cheeks playfully. “But I’d be happy to!”

And thus you found yourselves huddled together in the living room, fruit sandos and paintbrushes in hand as you three attempted to feed and paint on each other. Though it ended up a bit messy in more ways than one, Lev was content with his misshapen, orange oblongs and Alisa in love with her pink-orange peaches. None of you hesitated to show off your matching fruit hands to anybody you came across for the next two days.

#haikyuu x reader #ushijima x reader #tendou x reader #koganegawa x reader #lev x reader #haikyuu x reader drabbles #haikyuu x reader scenario #ushijima wakatoshi x reader #tendou satori x reader #koganegawa kanji x reader #lev haiba x reader #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu x reader fluff #requests

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marshmallowprotection · 4 years

Note

when i’ve been having nightmares every night (to the point i wake up shouting whoops sry roommates) and the only thing that makes me feel better is imagining i’m waking up next to zen and he tells me everything’s ok 🥺😅

Zen surely will.

If you're finding that it's hard to breathe or calm down quickly, he will gently press his hands to your shoulders when he knows that you've had the time to realize your surroundings and that you've come out of a dream. He will reassure you that you're okay, you just had a nightmare, and he is right there with you and nothing will ever hurt you while he's there to protect you.

It doesn't matter if you think it's a silly fear or that you having a nightmare doesn't need such heavy reassuring, if you're upset, you're upset. Zen will slowly ease you into a hug and stroke the back of your head, patting down your messy curls and murmuring reassurance and kind words to help you. "Don't worry about anything, focus on me, the sound of my voice. I'll help you get back to sleep and no nightmare will reach you this time."

His humming may be enough to coax you down, exhausted and tired, desperate for a dreamless sleep with Zen nearby.

#mod kait #anon #mystic messenger #ask #mysme #mysticmessenger #ryu hyun #zen #zen mysme #zen x mc #mm zen #mysme zen #zen mystic messenger #zen mm

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highqueenofelfhame · 4 years

Note

“Early start to your morning?” “Late night, actually.” (Anything Rowaelin)

Because of the way that the door chimed with the little tinkling of a bell, Rowan was in the habit of always flicking his eyes up to the door when someone new entered his favorite little coffee shop Downtown. It had become his favorite for many reasons, namely because it didn’t have the hustle and bustle of the mainstream shops, free WiFi, nice staff, and some of the best food he’d come across - coffee shop snacks or not. It had been his favorite since moving to Orynth a few years ago, replacing his favorite haunts from Doranelle almost instantly.

So when the bell tinkled and he looked up to see a pair of fraternal twins walking through the front door, he was taken aback. Even more so because he had to do a triple take at the young woman - a girl with long golden hair and bright blue eyes that blazed with gold around their core. By the time his eyes landed on her for a fourth time, it hit him why she looked so familiar. It was Aelin.

Not only was she not in her usual business attire, she was completely dressed down in jeans, a sweatshirt, and black combat boots. The hoodie she wore was an emerald green for the Staghorns professional football team with metallic silver threading. There was little to no makeup on her face, despite how usually she looked like she was stalking out of a lingerie add with the smoky eyes and winged liner she usually wore. Not to mention that the mouth that was so commonly painted red was totally bare. Rowan, thinking back on it, realized he’d never seen her bare lips before.

Her face was flushed from the cold, cheeks and nose bright pink from the fierce wind that was starting to roll in this afternoon and had she not been wearing a hat, he would have been willing to bet that her ears were red-tipped, too.

What shocked him the most was how relaxed, how young, and how utterly, beautifully adorable she looked with her lips spread wide in laughter at something her apparent twin had said. Aelin nudged him in the side and tugged her beanie off her head, immediately moving to pull her hair into a messy knot on the top of her head.

He was right. Her ears were pink.

As if his staring had been some sort of a beacon, they made eye contact. Aelin tilted her head to the side, taking him in across the room before making her way over. As she unraveled her scarf from around her neck she sat down across from him. Rowan quirked a brow.

“Early start to your morning?” He asked, glancing at the time on his computer. Seven AM on a Saturday.

“Late night, actually,” she countered, grinning over her shoulder at the man she had come in with as he approached with coffee and pastries in hand. He slid into the seat next to Aelin, dropping her chosen treats before her as she gobbled them up with starving eyes. “We were at the Staghorn game last night in Rifthold, and were going to spend the night, but -”

“But Aelin wouldn’t stop grumbling about Emrys’s chocolate croissants and refused to settle for something from the Faliq bakery in Rifthold,” the man interjected, giving her a flat look. Aelin’s head fell back as she laughed, a bright and stunning sound that Rowan never seemed to tire of.

Despite how annoying he found her at the office, of course.

“I didn’t realize you had a twin,” Rowan said, sticking his hand out to the man, only for both of them to bark out laughs that sounded entirely too similar.

“Not her twin, thank the Gods. Flattered you think I look young enough, though. Aedion Ashryver. I’m her older, more handsome, and infinitely more responsible cousin.”

“He’s my only living relative,” she said with an eye-roll. “Aedion, this is Rowan Whitethorn. He’s the -- he works for Maeve.” The two shared a glance, something that Rowan couldn’t quite determine what it meant, before Aedion gave him a once over.

“You were right,” he said to her.

“I tried to tell you.”

“Tell him what?” Rowan looked at Aelin with raised brows as she stood from the table, swallowing the bite of croissant she’d taken in the process.

“That you’re quite handsome when you’re not being so broody.” Before Rowan could even begin to respond, before he could even hope to, Aelin winked. Two beats later, Aedion clapped him once on the shoulder and then the two were disappearing back out into the cold, nothing but empty seats and a golden scarf left behind.

@starseternalnighttriumphant @musicmaam @kandasboi @empire-of-wildfire @shyvioletcat @the-regal-warrior @city-of-fae @myfeyrelady @schmlip-scribble @ttakeitbacknoww @tangledraysofsunshine @tonystarksbish i know i’m forgetting so many people i’m just tired sry

#rowaelin #elevator au #rowan whitethorn #aelin galathynius #aedion ashryver #tog #throne of glass #fanfiction #tog fanfiction #throne of glass fanfiction #tog au

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zigtheeortega · 4 years

Text

“look up the sun it's just a cloud away”

pairing: rafael x mc

word count: 1,946

song inspiration: get it over with - rihanna

tags: @bloodxbound ; @messofakind ; @dadrianraines ; @zadiechoi

author’s note: chapter 2 wrecked me! i thought the ethan angst was a lot, but this raf angst has so much potential so i had to write about it. i know a lot of people think raf is acting ooc, and people are shitting on sora, so i thought i’d write angst but with no animosity between the three of them. i genuinely think raf is gonna be torn. anyways, hope this does raf justice! title inspired by the rihanna lyric. also sry if this is messy since its like 24 hours post raf-erasure!

She stared at the green bomber jacket in her hands, fighting the tension in her throat. The subway shook slightly, masking the trembling of her hands. She dug her fingernails into the fabric to steady herself.

The brakes screeched, and she stood up, feeling dazed. She ambled out onto the pavement, taking in the familiar surroundings.

She had just gotten used to taking the subway to Raf’s house after work, savoring the short hours they spent together between shifts and the long, lazy Saturdays in bed.

The rushed, clumsy intimacy was what connected them in the first place. A soft kiss here, a sweet remark there. And when they had the time, utilizing every second to memorize each other’s bodies.

She’d been through hell with Rafael. She almost lost him. She’d been selfishly fooling around with other people, even her boss, keeping it as no-strings-attached as she could.

But the minute that she’d laid eyes on him in the stretcher, bloodied and battered from risking his life to rescue others, she completely and fully committed to him.

Everything had been so easy after she’d beaten the case against her. Life was a steady routine of balancing work, studying, spending time with her roommates, and being with Raf.

They worked together like a well-oiled machine, not being too clingy, but stealing moments with each other and cherishing their days off.

When Sora got back in contact with him, however, a wrench was thrown in, and Raf wasn’t the same anymore.

She had been trudging through the slushy snow, reminiscing, so she hadn’t noticed her teeth clacking from the cold. She’d barely managed to get herself dressed, much less remembered to bundle up.

She slipped on Rafael’s jacket, his scent wafting up as she zipped it up to her neck. She was so close to breaking, but the hardest was yet to come.

He was so excited to have Sora back. When his grandmother told them Sora had moved back for good, his face lit up like she’d never seen before. She pushed away her gut feeling, not willing to put her instinct at a higher priority than Raf’s happiness.

So when they started spending time together without her, she knew what was coming. She tried to make time for him, but she had so much to do to prepare for her switch from intern to the Diagnostics Team.

Maybe that’s when it all fell through the cracks, she thought to herself, hugging her arms around her waist, ice sloshing on her sneakers.

She thought she’d fully committed to him, but her job got in the way as usual, and she lost him. She had no one to blame but herself. Sora stepped in when she couldn’t.

She didn’t feel any anger or jealousy towards Sora, because she knew that they had something that her and Raf could never have.

How could she compete with someone that had known him practically all his life? Someone that watched him grow, and grew alongside him?

She was his first girlfriend, his first kiss, his first love. No matter what memories they made together, she could never take away from that.

She turned the corner onto his street, spotting his house towards the end. Her heart raced, dread and hope fusing together in her stomach.

She couldn’t get over the look in his eyes the first time he saw Sora. She tried to pretend like it wasn’t there, but his eyes twinkled in a way they never had when he looked at her.

She couldn’t blame him. They’d been together for a couple of months, but Sora and him had years of history.

The pain in her chest grew as she stumbled down the icy sidewalk, closer and closer to his porch.

She had invested so much of herself in him, but it wasn’t enough. Maybe things weren’t as easy as she thought.

She couldn’t blame him for going with the easier option. She just wished she had that possibility for herself.

She could crawl back to Bryce after cutting off their hookups, but it wouldn’t feel right.

She could try it on with Ethan again, but she couldn’t handle the rejection.

She knew Jackie was interested, but they’d become such good friends she couldn’t jeopardize that.

She was alone.

She pushed through his rusty metal gate and lumbered through the icy muddy grass to his aged wooden porch. The smell of roasting meat and spices floated through the air, making her stomach growl.

It reminded her of the time Rafael invited her to his unofficial family reunion, and she tried making a traditional dish, which she failed miserably at, so she had to settle for Sienna’s cupcakes.

She felt so warm, so complete when she was surrounded by the Aveiro’s. She felt at home.

Before she could talk herself out of it, she opened up the screen door and rapped her knuckles on the door a couple of times.

She breathed deeply to calm her pulse, watching the puffs of air manifest and disappear in front of her.

The door creaked open, and there Sora stood, wearing a large graphic tee that had the Superman logo on the front.

The shirt she’d gotten for him after he’d gotten out of the hospital. An inside joke between them.

The hem of the shirt hung at the mid-point of her thighs, no shorts in sight. Sora looked winded, her face flushed, eyes wild, and she could tell that they’d been… busy.

“Hi, Spencer! Sorry it took me a second to answer the door,” she breathed, her face red, a sheen of sweat on her forehead.

“No, it’s okay. I’m the one that should be apologizing. I should’ve asked first,” she said, and her eyes flitted to the hallway behind her, seeing Rafael emerge in sweatpants that hung low on his hips.

“Hey, Spencer. It’s good to see you,” he smiled, his face nothing but friendly and inviting.

He had no idea just how much he’d hurt her. And she would never tell him. Even if she couldn’t be what he needed, she wanted to be in his life in any capacity.

“Hey, Raf,” she said, waving awkwardly as he draped his arm around Sora’s shoulders. “I was just dropping your jacket off.”

She realized she still had it on, and hastily stripped it off, clumsily folding it and offering it to him. “Sorry, I forgot I was wearing it.”

Goosebumps raised under the thin fabric of her jacket, and her teeth chattered. “You wanna stay for lunch? It’ll be done soon,” Sora asked, gesturing towards the kitchen. “We’re definitely gonna have leftovers.”

“No, no thank you. I just wanted to drop this off. I have a shift tonight,” she lied. It was her day off. One of the first in weeks. She’d been taking every shift she could because she couldn’t bear a Saturday without Rafael.

Raf stepped out onto the porch towards her. “Could you watch the stove? I’ll be inside in a few minutes.”

She got the message, and hastily headed inside, pushing the front door almost closed to give them some privacy.

“Are you okay, really? You look exhausted,” he searched her eyes, his brows furrowed in concern.

“I’m definitely tired, but I’m okay,” she smiled, knowing the purple rings under her eyes corroborated her story.

“I’m sorry I haven’t reached out in a while. I didn’t know if you needed space,” he said, shifting his weight from foot to foot. “It’d be selfish of me to think we could all get along perfectly right away.”

“I honestly don’t feel awkward around you two anymore. It was weird at first knowing we’ve both been with you, but I’m okay now. Really,” she said, reaching out to touch his arm.

He shivered, his skin covered in goosebumps. “I’m sorry I ever put you in that position, Spencer.”

“Raf, as long as you’re happy, I’m happy.” Her throat burned with the weight of those words, but she pushed the feelings of loss away, determined to be strong for him.

“You’re so sweet and understanding. I never deserved you,” he said under his breath, the corner of his mouth upturned.

“I never deserved you,” she mirrored his words, her heart twinging in her chest.

“You know, I think I always liked this better on you,” he said, unfurling the fabric and draping it over her shoulders. “Plus you’re freezing. You need to take better care of yourself.” He rubbed his hands against her arms to warm her up.

He looked into her eyes, and she saw a spark of something in his deep brown irises. Maybe it was love, or adoration, or compassion, but whatever it was, gave Spencer a sense of security.

Raf might not be in love with me, she thought. But he has love for me, and that’s all that matters.

Her muscle memory kicked in, and before she knew it, she’d leaned in to press a soft kiss on his lips. She felt his body stiffen, but he didn’t pull back.

He squeezed her arms softly, and melted into the kiss.

It was over before she knew it.

“Spencer… I…” he trailed off, obviously struggling with his words. “I’ve known her all my life… She’s so familiar to me,” he shook his head.

“It’s okay. I know you love her,” she nodded, touching his cheek softly.

“You’re not upset?”

“Of course not. She makes you happy, and I’d never get in the way of that,” she said confidently, completely betraying the emotions swirling through her head.

“I really couldn’t ask for a better best friend,” he grinned, kissing her cheek. “Whenever you’re up to it, I’d love for all three of us to hang out.”

Her heart panged in her chest. “I’d love that.” She felt tears prick her eyes.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” He asked cautiously, his smile faltering.

“Yeah, of course I am. You’ve been way too nice about it anyways. I kind of wish you’d have been mean to me or something so I’d have a reason to be mad at you. It’s easier to hate an ex than love them you know?” she laughed, and it sounded off.

“Spencer…” He reached out to her, running his fingers along her knuckles. “I can’t just turn off these feelings for her… or for you. I still love you… and her. I’m stuck between a rock and a hard place. Neither of you are better than the other… I just –”

He cut off, running a hand through his hair. “I don’t know how to say it right. I don’t want to say the wrong thing and push you away.”

The tears clouded her vision, and she wiped them quickly with the back of her hand, trying to plaster a determined look on her face. “No, I get it.”

“Please don’t cry,” he pleaded, looking tormented. “You deserve an explanation, but I can’t explain it.”

“It’s okay. I know what you’re trying to say, and I know you’d never intentionally hurt me.” She leaned in to kiss his cheek, and he wrapped his arms around her, enveloping her in a warm, comforting hug.

She pulled away and headed towards the stairs, waving. “I’ll see you around.” She turned back. “You’ll always be my Superman though, right?”

“As long as you’re my Lois,” he whispered, just low enough for the two of them to hear.

----

#open heart #open heart book 2 #playchoices #rafael aveiro #rafael aveiro x mc #jade writes choices fics

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neelahind · 4 years

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o but while i’m here @70sdaisy tagged me in two things (thank u ily2 💛💛💛) which i’ll put under the cut (spoiler: i don’t tag anyone sry. but feel free to take these and say i tagged u ofc)

1st thing: bolding the options that resonate w/ me

2nd thing: some questions (officially i’m supposed 2 tag 9 ppl i wanna know better/catch up with but y’know)

+ last song: i have spotify running as i write this and currently separate by pvris is playing, but the kids from yesterday by mcr just finished playing, so would that be my “last” song, technically?

+ last movie: the third murder

+ currently reading: carmilla

+ currently watching: nothing right now :/ i need to catch up on killing eve one of these days

+ currently craving: ...there’s gotta be somethin’, but i don’t know what that something is

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tripleaxeldiaz · 4 years

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tagged by @benjisvictor kim i swear you always know when i’m bored and need something to do THANK YOU <3

bold the options that resonate with you:

tagging YOU if you want to do it because i’m too lazy to tag anyone sry

#tag games #personal

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finnofamerica · 5 years

Text

Thompson - Reg Slivko x Reader || 3 ||

Summary: Y/n and Reg Slivko have a rough history. After suffering from over a year’s worth of PTSD, what happens when the two of them meet up again? Will the memories get worse? Or will they finally heal?

Word Count: 853

Date Posted: 6.18.2019

|| Mastelist || 2 ||

“Well, home sweet home.” You unlocked your front door, swinging it open. It was still quiet in the house, save for the dull hum of the fan you left on in the living room. Reg walked in behind you, duffel bag slung over his shoulder. You would’ve carried it in for him but he insisted on doing it himself.

“I don’t, uh, have a guest room,” You said, awkwardly scratching your arm.

“The couch is fine.” He dropped his duffel onto it. “Than you, Y/n. It means a lot to me that you were willing to put me up.”

“Of course,” You smiled. It felt off to him. Like you were trying to put on a brave face for him. “I’ll get you some blankets from the closet, I’m sure you’re tired.”

He just hummed and nodded.

“Where is your bathroom?”

“Down the hall, second on the left.” You said as you headed into your room, grabbing blankets from your closet. “You’re welcome to anything in the fridge, just, make yourself at home.”

“Thank you again.” He took the blankets you handed him.

“You can stop saying ‘thank you’.” You shook your head. “Anyone would’ve done the same. I’m gonna go to bed though, good night.”

Perhaps he was foolish to think that being around you would fix his problems. He thought for sure it'd stop the nightmares, but it had only made them worse. Instead of it being you as you had been back then, it was you as you were now and you made him promise not to cry for you when you kissed him.

It was days of this. He barely slept, worried he'd have to watch you die in his arms. You weren't blind nor ignorant, of course, you'd noticed that he looked more tired. Scratch that, he looked exhausted, but every time you asked he would just write it off.

About two weeks into this self-destructive cycle, you'd finally had enough.

"I think you need to see my therapist," you told him one night while you sat with him on the couch, your t.v. dinners in your laps.

"What?" He swallowed.

"I think you need to see my therapist. I know you haven't been sleeping and I don't have what it takes to help you." You took his hand, maintaining eye contact with him. "If you don't sleep, your body will begin to shut down."

"You think it will help?" His voice sounded so empty and broken. You couldn't even begin to imagine what he saw in his dreams at night, and you'd seen your fair share of nightmares.

You could only set your meals to the side and pull him into a hug. This was a different man than the boy you'd met on that boat. How much changing could one person go through in a year?

"We can fix this," you promised, threading your fingers through his hair. He buried his head in your neck, holding you like you were the last thing cementing him in reality.

Softly, you began to sing to him. A lullaby melody filling the room as he broke down, tears soaking the shoulder of your shirt. You blinked away your tears, not allowing your voice to falter.

"Though your feet get cold in the winter time. The sky won't snow and the sun won't shine. It's hard to tell the night time from the day. You're losing all your highs and lows; ain't it funny how the feeling goes away? Desperado." You sang, massaging his scalp with your fingers.

His nightmare woke you up that night. He was screaming and crying your name and you were so scared when you woke him up. When you finally snapped him out of it, you both were full on sobbing.

“I’ gonna get you some water,” You said when you finally felt like you could breathe, but your legs still shook as they supported your weight.

“Y/n, please,” He sobbed, holding your hand. He looked at you brokenly, pleading you not to leave him.

“Hey,” You cooed, “It’s okay. I’m just gonna be in the kitchen, then we’ll go to my room. I promise.”

His phone buzzed, blowing up with messages that he ignored. Reg gave you a slight nod. You patted his head comfortingly then turned to get some water for you both. His phone buzzed again.

Babe, I miss u.

I’m sry. :/ pls take me back

His eyes flickered to you in the kitchen, pajama-clad and messy-haired, tip-toeing for a glass on the shelf that you couldn’t quite reach. He shut off his phone, tossing it to the side and followed you to your room. The bedside lamp dimly glowed in the dark, illuminating your pillow and the desk.

“You can stay with me for the rest of the night if it helps,” you told him, fluffing up the pillows and pulling back the blanket. “We’ll see Dr. Sherman in the morning.”

“Okay.” He swallowed, his voice still dry and crackly from crying.

Just for the night, he told himself as he slipped under the covers with you.

|| Part 4 ||

Tags: @carolinesbookworld @hvfflepvfff

#reg slivko x reader #kong skull island x reader #reg slivko #kong skull island #finn writes #full lenth #6/18/2019

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windseized · 5 years

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i’m feeding u this trash 10 years late and you’re gonna appreciate it goddamnit. also i don’t have photoshop so no cool graphic sry

𝐨𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐮𝐩𝐨𝐧 𝐚 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞 … dorothy gale was known as the resilient & inquisitive farmer with a reputation for being a natalia dyer doppelganger . but now , under the stress of the war on the horizon , the natural born hero human has become widely known for being rather wilful & restless . let’s see how long the oz native will last during this war . after all they’re only twenty years old . + she/her & cis female , wizard of oz .

hi i’m bee & i’m here to talk to you about prairie gothic

our story starts with two sisters, as different as the night and day. the elder, em, short for emma, a plain name for a plain girl. no frills, just the way she liked it. and the younger, elizabeth, beth for short. a name sweet on the tongue and a girl sweet on the eyes.

when em was working, beth was playing. when em was getting married to a respectable local farmer, beth was joining the travelling circus. she was prone to brief passions and flights of fancy, one of whom had a bit more of a lasting effect than others.

em had always put up with beth’s wild ways; as solemn and cross as she appeared to be, she still loved her sister. but pregnancy out of wedlock was not something she condoned as an upright christian woman.

that was one of the worst fights the sisters ever had. em coldly informed her sister she was free to ruin her life as much as she liked, just not to come crying to her when it all came crashing down. beth, three months pregnant, wept and furiously declared that she was sick and tired of her sister’s judgement; that this was her life and she’d do what she liked with it.

and so the two sisters parted, and so too did beth and her unborn child’s father. when little dorothy was born, into a tiny house on the kansas prairie, she was greeted only by her mother and the town midwife.

it was a lonely and tumultuous existence, with her mother finding odd jobs where she could as a maid or nanny. beth made the best of it when she could, but being a single mother wasn’t easy, and there were times when her nerves ( and the kitchen cupboard ) wore bare.

she could’ve asked for help from her sister, but beth was proud through and through. even when she fell seriously sick with influenza when dorothy was eight, she didn’t send a letter to em until it was too late.

em arrived just in time to nurse her sister for a week, and then she was left with a funeral to arrange and an eight year old girl to raise.

dorothy’s short time with her mother wasn’t all hardship and heartbreak, though. beth was flighty, headstrong, hopeful; she could make anything magic, turning the most mundane task into an adventure. she filled dorothy’s young mind with fancy and fairy stories.

although, the one thing beth didn’t spin into a make believe was dorothy’s father. whenever dorothy asked about her father, it was always the same old story: when he’d found out beth was pregnant, he’d up and left them. aunt em told much the same story, only adding contemptuously that she’d never liked him much in the first place. the only clue dorothy has to his identity is a half-faded photo of her mother laughing with a man atop a ramshackle caravan, his face obscured in shadow.

after beth died, aunt em took dorothy in and loved her as if she were her own child. make no mistake, though, em’s definition of motherly love was vastly different than her sister’s. aunt em did not believe in outward displays of affection, choosing instead to abide by the age old adage spare the rod, spoil the child. she often worried privately to uncle henry that the few years dorothy had spent under the care of beth may have damaged the child’s senses irretrievably.

twelve years under aunt em’s eagle eye hasn’t cured dorothy of the imagination she inherited from her mother, but it has instilled in her the value of good hard work. they have enough to hire a handful of farmhands, but dorothy’s still expected to help out more often than not. she tends the garden, milks the cows and churns their milk into butter for their bread with supper.

most of the time, dorothy completes her chores dutifully and without complaint, if chattering excessively while doing so, but every so often, she’ll get an idea in her head that she clings to with a stubbornness that rivals a mountain’s. visiting the travelling circus, for instance. or adopting toto – when they discovered the scruffy stray hiding out in the barn with the goats, aunt em was ready to drown the little black dog. he was clearly the runt of his litter, and would be far too weak to be of any use around the farm. but dorothy furiously protected the pup until aunt em finally relented.

she grows more like her mother each day, aunt em fusses to uncle henry as she watches dorothy throw a stick for toto to fetch. in looks and in spirit.

dorothy’s had the base level of schooling, learning her letters and basic arithmetic before leaving to work on the farm. she knows her aunt em would have preferred to see her married off and bearing children years ago, but dorothy is naturally independent and inquisitive. she can’t help but yearn for other worlds, for a future outside of what’s already planned for her.

appearance: her hands are calloused and her slim frame is wiry and muscled from years of hard work, but she still has colour in her cheeks that the kansas plains haven’t yet managed to steal. her braids are constantly messy from the wind, and her freckled cheeks are more often than not crinkled in laughter.

but dorothy’s whole life was turned upside down ( literally ! ) when a twister ripping through the kansas plains wrenched their one-room farmhouse from the ground. dorothy was certain she and toto would be killed, but instead, they landed in a place with more colour than dorothy had ever seen in her life. oz.

( for the sake of this rp, dorothy hasn’t landed on the wicked witch of the east in case someone else wants to play her skdlf )

dorothy has never seen this place in her life — in fact, she’s still not sure she isn’t dreaming — but there’s something all too familiar about it …

and anyways yeah ! i’d love some plots for her so hmu !

#tales.intro

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floofdjh · 6 years

Text

Better Than Me - Chapter 3

{Summary: Dan Howell is a camboy. At only eighteen, he’s already become popular on many porn websites and has been involved with a magazine. Desiring for someone to trust to create his darkest fantasies with, he downloads Tinder, where he meets the sweetest man alive. But surely this man could find someone better than Dan, couldn’t he? AO3 | Wattpad

Genre: fluff, angst, (eventual) smut, (eventual) romance, (a little bit of) slow burn

Word count: 2,772

Notes: thank you for all the support of this fic :)))

Dan ended up napping until late in the evening, still on Phil’s lap. He woke up a few hours later, sleepily blinking his eyes open and looking at the TV. The movie was way past over and was now playing some crappy late night show.

“You up?” Phil asked, watching him stir.

“Mm?” Dan turned his head to look at him. His fringe was a bit messy and he seemed to have napped too. Phil fetched his phone from the coffee table and checked the time.

“It’s getting dark, love, you want to spend the night?”

As much as Dan wanted to say yes, he shook his head no. “Don’t wanna sit around to bother you.”

He didn’t wanna be a bum, and he also knew he had to film a video early tomorrow before work, so if he stayed, the morning would be a little rushed. Plus, Dan didn’t know how much longer he could be around Phil without speeding up their relationship because he really, really just wanted to make out with those beautiful lips Phil had, with the perfect shade of pink and the perfect angles of his cupid’s bow. But he restricted himself and decided it was far too early.

“I have to work too.”

He hesitantly rose up from Phil’s lap, yawning and stretching. Phil stood up beside him and fixed his hair with his fingers, awkwardly watching Dan collect his things.

“I had a lot of fun, Phil,” Dan assures him.

“So did I,” Phil brightly smiles, and Dan chuckles a little bit at his tongue sticking out from his teeth.

They walk to Phil’s door and Dan doesn’t know what to do. Does he hug Phil, or kiss him, or shake his hand again?

“Goodnight Phil,” he mentions, aiming for a side hug. He supplies him a quick peck on the cheek, making his own cheeks burn and his dimple deepen.

“Goodnight Dan. Make sure you text me when you get home safe,” Phil says, grinning and blushing as well.

Dan found that sweet. He smiled at the ground as he left his flat, making his way to the stairs. He took a quick tube ride home, discovering they didn’t live too far from each other. Once he got home, he set his things on the island of his kitchen and made sure to send the text.

Dan: i’m safe at home you nerd

Phil: <3 Dan felt warm and bubbly. Phil made the date a thousand times better than the anxiety in his head told him it was going to be. They had a lot of fun chatting, walking, and eventually napping on Phil’s couch.

While Dan got ready for bed, he inspected his deemed ‘rosy patch’ in the mirror, and decided it was his new favorite part of his body. He curled up in bed in only boxers, opening his blog and reblogging from his dashboard here and there, supporting some other camboys and promoting the newest magazine issue for the company he’d been working for. His feature in the magazine wasn’t posted, but he hoped his boost would draw attention to his fans and make them want to purchase the magazine.

Once he settled in his covers, he answered some quick messages on his Tumblr blog.

Anonymous asked: where were you all day? :’( camboydan answered: kissing boys Anonymous asked: Your captions are funny. What’s your favorite one you’ve written? camboydan answered: probably the gif of me borderline fisting myself with the caption “me thinking about your dad” Anonymous asked: I will anal you camboydan answered: romance at its finest Anonymous asked: favorite toy? camboydan answered: it’s in the post, some angel just ordered it for me <3 i will make a video once it arrives ^_^ He logged off of Tumblr after a few minutes, then sent Phil a quick text message. Dan: goodnight <3 He placed his phone on his stomach, looking up at the darkness of his ceiling. Phil was so unbelievably sweet. He felt a genuine connection, and honestly could get used to this much affection and care. But he wasn’t so sure about in the bedroom. Dan might feel bad when he admits to all his kinks and fantasies and Phil doesn’t want that. He wouldn’t do anything Phil was uncomfortable with, but knowing himself he’d probably feel like he was missing out if all he could get was vanilla, if that. Dan wanted to hurt, wanted to have someone control him, he wanted to experience so much with someone. But if Phil could help with that, he didn’t know.

He felt his phone buzz against his skin. Phil: I thought you were a night owl, guess I’ll stay up online by myself then Phil: Goodnight though, I loved hanging out with you today xx Dan smiled at his phone, feeling warm and giddy. Dan: i am, i can stay up if you’d like. i’m a little restless at the moment Phil: Okay :) Dan: i have never really paid attention to my “rosy patch” before :P

Phil: No? Phil: I think it’s adorable and you should definitely pay more attention to it Dan: awwr thank uuu :] Dan: what did you think of our date? was i super awkward i’m sry Phil: I’m awkward too so it’s okay Phil: I had fun and I felt happy all day, I enjoy talking/going on walks/watching movies/napping with you Dan: me toooo it made me all gushy :3 Phil: Me too :]

Phil: You’re cute when you snore as well Dan: omg ;__; you’re too sweet to me The two continued to flirt, disgusting and gushy as always. Dan was grinning adorably at his phone late into the night until his eyes stung. He had a feeling this would soon become routine with Phil to text.

Dan: i’m half asleep i’m actually gonna go to sleep now, thanks for telling me about your weird childhood and your cheesy pickup lines ^_^ <3

Phil: You’re welcome, sleep well love x

Dan reached across his bed for his imaginary Phil pillow, nuzzling his face into the side of it like the little spoon he was and falling asleep. It was easy to rest while he was thinking happy thoughts.

When Dan woke up, he discovered he drooled on the pillow a bit. Hopefully he didn’t drool on the real Phil yesterday while they were cuddling. He sighed happily and snuggled into the pillow again, until hearing a loud knock on the door.

He grunts and gets up groggily, pulling on a shirt real quick and answering the door. A delivery man that looked just as tired as him stood in his doorway, dressed in uniform with messy, blonde hair.

“Delivery for...Daniel Howell?”

“Yep,” Dan says sleepily. He accepts the package and tells the delivery person goodbye. Thanks to its discreet packaging, the person had no idea what it was.

*NSFW AHEAD. do not read if under 14. if you regret exposing yourself to explicit content when you’re older, it’s not my fault. i will put asterisks again when it is over*

It was his new vibrating wand, the expensive one. He frantically took the package to his kitchen and opened it with some scissors, then stared and the box inside. Dan took his time removing the cover and finally looked at his new toy.

It was very long, colored white and blue. The wand came with a charging cord, and according to the box, it had multiple vibration settings. He excitedly plugged it in to charge right on his kitchen counter and ran to read the reviews on his laptop.

He pulled up the link as he brought his laptop into the lounge. The reviews were fantastic. The only cons that were mentioned was that it was loud, but Dan knew he’d probably drown it out with his noise. He was loud and whiny; perfect for the type of porn his blog followers craved. He’d discovered it was quite difficult to use certain toys when he was at home with his family home.

Once the vibrator was finished charging, he set up his laptop to film himself on his bed. He stripped of the shirt he’d put on and laid on his back in front of the camera, cutting out his face. The camera only caught his belly, torso and thighs and had the perfect view of him testing the new toy. He clicked record, and turned on the vibrator.

He started at a low setting, gently rubbing it through the outline in his boxers. The vibrations felt wonderful to him. He turned a bit more towards the camera and rubbed the toy up and down his dick through the fabric. It caused him to twitch and mewl as the vibrations teased through the cotton. He was growing very hard, very fast.

With one hand, Dan palmed himself, and the other, he teased himself with the vibrator. He continued this for a few minutes until he couldn’t take any more teasing and had to kick his boxers off his legs. They plummeted to the floor beside his bed as he rose the massager up and down, base to head. He held up his dick against the toy and moaned softly, watching himself in the reflection of the laptop camera.

The reviews were so true. Once he got moaning, it was difficult for him to stop, strings of whimpers and whines escaping his throat for every movement. He slowly stroked himself with every heavy exhale alongside the vibrator. Sweat bunched his hairs up on his forehead and heat pooled in his stomach.

Dan played up his moans a little bit, normally he was loud but on camera he made his gasps even more dramatic. He bucked his hips up against the toy and whined, rotating the toy around the head of his dick. His hips stuttered and shook around, sounds of the rustling sheets filling his ears as well as the loud noise from the vibrations. The video made its way to fifteen minutes slowly as he kept pleasuring himself with the vibrator.

His dramatized moans made it sound like he was crying, his little whimpers and mewls picking up well on the microphone of his laptop. The vibrations felt incredible against his sensitive skin, heat pulsing through his body as his sounds increased. With a guttural string of moans, he finally climaxed, right on his stomach and where his camera could see.

“Oh god,” he moaned, cum spurting onto his tummy. He exhaled heavily a few times and finally clicked off the recording, then got up quickly to his bathroom.

***

He cleaned up with a towel and made his way back into bed, opening up his video editing program and starting to edit his new video. He would schedule it to post sometime when he was at work later today, opening boxes or helping customers or whatever else they had him do.

He heard his phone buzz softly and set his laptop aside, pulling his covers around until he found his phone. Dan saw a new text from Phil, ones from this morning that he received while filming.

Phil: Good morning Dan x

Phil: I have one of my online classes today and I don’t want to do it :(

Dan: get it over with so you can hurry up and talk to me instead xx

Dan set his laptop back in front of him and began trimming the video, cutting it down to only the decent clips, like the ones where he was moaning loud or twitching or whatever else he thought his audience would enjoy.

His audience. Dan hadn’t really thought about all of the accounts that followed him for a while. Was posting this video to probably thousands of people cheating?

No, probably not, since it wasn’t directly sent to them. He would just message the sender of the massager a quick thank you and not send a personalized video this time. They might be upset, but Dan couldn’t film a video for someone with Phil‍’s face in his mind. He would feel so guilty.

Once he had finished editing his video, which took about an hour, he queued it on his blog and YouPorn for while he was at work later, and posted a cheeky text post as a teaser.

camboydan: new video VERY soon (; <3

Dan often did this to draw more attention to his content. His blog was full of teasers in between videos, photos, and gifs of him exposing himself. Thinking about how much content he had posted since June eleventh, on his birthday, was crazy. Recently he posted at least twice a week, juggling his job as well, and it was October.

He could remember his very first photoset, two pictures of him naked in a pile of teddybears. The post hadn’t become popular until he really gained his “fame”. His first video is the one that caught on, one where he was using the first toy he’d ever bought.

Until then, he had admired other camboys and pornstars online, wanting so badly to be like them. It took a while for him to be noticed by Gay UK 18+ as well, but once they reached out to him, he blew up more, hitting the top spot for the tags ‘twink’ or ‘emo’ or ‘teen’ on many porn websites. When that occurred, he knew he had gained a following he had to keep up with, that he wasn’t just posting into the void anymore. Dan had to keep a posting schedule and follow it, which was hard getting used to at first.

Posting content often was difficult with his parents and brother around, thank god he’d moved to London. It was hard to keep himself quiet sometimes, and the stress of how discreet the packaging was, and where he hid his toys and clearing his laptop history and all that. That was the real reason he’d moved here.

Not for law university or a law firm internship or whatever other reasons he managed to convince his parents of. They didn’t even send Dan rent money, since this was Dan’s “careless” decision, he paid for it all himself, with the help of paychecks from Tesco and PayPal transfers from his pornography.

When it was time to get ready for work, he hustled around his apartment to find a clean set of clothes to wear. The dress code was simple; a solid colored polo and nice pants, that could be black, navy blue or khaki. Dan would rather die than be caught wearing ugly beige, so he bought a week’s worth of black skinny jeans.

He adjusted his collar in the mirror and grasped his things for work, then headed off to the tube. When he was seated in an uncomfortable plastic chair, he received a text from Phil.

Phil: Okay I finished my class ^_^

Dan: perfect timing, i’m on my way to work :(

Phil: Aw. Talk to me when you’re done?

Dan: ofc <3

Despite it only being a day, Dan already missed Phil, the way his mouth was in a permanent cheeky smirk, the gorgeous blue of his eyes, the way he had held Dan close on the couch.

He was sure it was definitely a crush, not just someone he was falling in love with simply because they were paying attention to him. He liked Phil for Phil, and could see their future together already.

So what if it was too early for Dan to be thinking about what the theme of their wedding would be? Dan thought he couldn’t be blamed; that Phil was just that lovable and inspirational.

Another thing Dan wondered about was Phil mentioning YouTube. Dan was curious about how different it was compared to his work. They had themselves being filmed in common, but their work was assuredly very, very different - opposite like yellow and violet on a color wheel, contrasting sides of a spectrum, opposite poles of the world. Their videos and lifestyles must be so, so diverse.

Or maybe they were closer to being alike, analogous colors instead of complementary colors. Maybe, with all the nerdy video game talk, geeky movie talk, and other things they had in common, they weren’t so much opposites.

Either way, Dan was in love with it. In love with the concept of them being together. He barely knew Phil, but he his gut told him that he was his missing puzzle piece, the one that was going to be there for him. Maybe even the one who could help him with his parents.

#phan #phanfiction #phan au #phanfic #camboy!dan #fics #my fics #writing

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timelvss · 6 years

Text

haunting present

parings: jeon jungkook | ft. yoongi

genre: friends to lovers!au | angst, romance, lots of fluff

warnings: post break up

word count: 3.9k

description: after a tough breakup with idol!yoongi, jungkook supports you and lowkey likes you a lot (sry im terrible at desriptions)

author’s note: is is kinda a sequel to Haunting Past, but with a jungkook focus bc why not? also thank you for reading it really means a LOT!

Somehow when you pictured yourself on a date you never pictured it without Yoongi in your life. Not until everything changed and you took off because he basically told you that you were holding back his career. So when you agreed to this friendly date with no other than Jeon Jungkook you never thought he’d be serious about the whole ‘let’s drive 4 hours to the beach and then come back and cuddle’. Yet here you were stuck in hot car, the windows down, and loudly singing along to Summer of ‘69.

“Those were the best days of my life!” you heard Jungkook screaming at the top of his lungs making you laugh. You haven't felt this carefree in a while and you were actually very glad this friendly date happened.

You finally sat down on the passenger seat, looking through the windshield as your eyes landed on a very furious yoongi. His face was a tornado of emotions and his eyes were bloodshot red from the crying he had done. Your heart couldn't help but to feel guilt at making him feel like this, but something felt as if it lifted off your shoulders.

Jin was holding one of his arms while another guy came up to hold Yoongi up. You didn’t know him but you could tell he was one of Yoongi’s friends from how you saw how Yoongi pleaded the guy to let him go. Jungkook got into the driver’s seat making you jump slightly, his gaze went between you and to the scene displayed in front of you.

“Are you sure you want to leave?” he questioned as your hands pushed the hair that had fallen on your face away. At this point you could only nod, you were too nervous to speak. A feeling in your gut said you’d probably cry if you tried.

Laying back against the chair as Jungkook slowly pulled out, you could only hear Yoongi’s screams in the back of your mind. Tears made their way out your eyes as you finally drove away from the love of your life.

“No Jeon, the best song of the 80’s is and will always be Total Eclipse of the Heart,” you said as you relaxed back into the seat as you both watched the sunset over the small hill Jungkook parked the car.

“And see, that’s where you’re wrong here. Summer of ‘69 will always win best song of the 80’s,” Jungkook answered back making you laugh.

“That’s a no from me,” you shook your head as you glanced back at the boy across from you. This was the first time in a while where you felt normal in a relationship time of way and you were liking it.

“I mean I can’t expect much from the person who dislikes the purple skittles,” you could only laugh more at this point to which Jungkook could only smile at you. You both shared the bag of skittles that you found in the glove box, while you picked out every single green skittle from the bag and handing the purple ones to the man beside you.

Jessie’s Girl played in the background as you found yourself seated on the hood of Jungkook’s car. Your fingers tapped against the metal as the man in front of you stared off into the field that stretched out in front of you.

“You know what?” you asked, making you break apart from the scenery in front of you. Your eyes moving to see Jungkook who was leaning back against the car.

“Hm?”

“How can you still love him?” and at the moment you knew exactly who he was talking about. His name wasn't even said but you knew who him was, and that was what scared you most.

“I'm not like trying to keep that feeling, it’s just I don't know how to get rid of it really,” you confessed to the man in front of you. Jungkook turned back to face you making sit up completely. He moved closer to you until he was standing right in front of you and putting his hands on your shoulders. Jungkook’s hands moved up from your shoulders to cup your face making you look up at him.

Jungkook's eyes were soft brown color that reminded you of chocolate for some reason. His hair was messy and it was obvious he hadnt washed it recently which internally made you laugh internally. You made yourself a mental note to bring up as a comeback someday. The small scar on his left cheek was at plain sight for you, the mole underneath his lower lip made you smile slightly. Moving your hands on your lap you unconsciously let your legs spread so he could fit between them. At this moment you realized how close you actually were to him, if you tilted your head slightly your lips could fit right against his. They looked a little chapped and very plump, you could just le-

“Jungkook,” you snapped yourself out of the trance his lips brought out on you, leaving you confused at your thoughts. Were you seriously thinking of kissing Jeon Jungkook? Your mind was laughing at you, while you were still very confused.

“How may I help you miss?” his voice was laced with a smile on his lips making a smile spread over your lips. You placed your hands on his chest and softly pushed him back so you could see him better.

“You’re a fucking idiot,” you mumbled out as your hands moved down to softly grip his shirt. His body was suddenly a few centimeters closer to you and his lips were just millimeters away from yours.

“I might be, but you're lying to yourself if you say you don’t like it,” he whispered softly, his voice was a bit deeper making your insides roll around. You hadn't felt like this in a while and you were excited for these feelings. Also for the man who was bringing life back into your life without you even noticing.

“You might be right.”

The following weeks were pretty intense on yourself, half of you wanted to scream while the other was very confused at what the hell Jeon Jungkook was doing with your head. Which is why now you found yourself thinking what led to this point. Before Jin’s wedding, Jungkook and you would hang out sometimes. Although usually it was with your group of friends including Jennie and Jisoo, but now that you noticed you did tend to lean more on him. You both would sit next to each other at all times, share meals because you both wanted to try different thing from each other’s plate, you would fix his clothes when they were crooked, he would help you find and pick outfits, and so on. So, basically, you were dating. Only neither of you actually brought it up.

A constant knocking on your door made break away from your daydreaming, which kind of scared you. Jeon Jungkook and you? How? Like, Jin said a child? You shook your head at the thought and walked down the hallway towards the door. Not bothering to peak through the small hole on the door you opened the door to find a very sweaty Min Yoongi standing in front of you. A feeling of guilt and panic flooded your chest as your eyes found his, but you couldn't let him see how you felt.

“Who told you where I lived?” you said, but your voice sounded more confident than what you actually felt. Which was a huge difference.

“I don't need anyone to tell me, have you forgotten how much influence I have now?” his voice was deep and it made you swallow the lump in your throat you hadn't noticed you were holding.

“Yoongi, please le-” you tried to get out but it was quickly cut off by Yoongi.

“Don't do this, we have to talk,” Yoongi said putting his hand up against the door so you couldn't close the door on him.

“There’s nothing to talk ab-” you started again only to be cut off by Yoongi once again. By this point you were actually thinking if you were strong enough to try to close it.

“Of course there is! You left me! Not only once but twice, I fucking begged you stay and you left with that bunny thing you have. You traded me for that?” the man in front of you looked terrible as he spoke. There was dark circles under his eyes as if he hadn't slept in weeks, which only made you think of back at the wedding. It had only been six weeks and if you were right, Yoongi had probably barely slept in those six weeks.

“I did not trade anything because I don't belong to you anymore Min Yoongi, we are nothing,” shaking your head as the words came out of your mouth. The feelings from the break up rushed into your head making you groan in frustration. “That's the way you wanted things, so I made it easy on you and took me out of your equation,”

“You don't get it do you? I love you,”

“I'm not the same dumb girl that left everything behind for you. Now please leave,” you had enough of feeling this guilt that wasn't yours, it was his. He did it to himself and you only did what was best for you.

“Y/N, please,” he reached for you making you take a step back. His face shattered when he realized how you no longer wanted his touch. His eyes looked at you for a moment before looking down at his hand that was shaking. A feeling of sadness washed over you, he was the love of your life in the past and now in the present he was just a stranger at your door.

“Yoongi!” Jin screamed from across the street making you jump lightly and quickly turn towards the voice. “I told Jisoo not to leave my phone unattended while I went to the bathroom,”

“I had to see her Seokjin,” Yoongi rushed out as Jin put his hand on his shoulder. You could only stand there and look at both men. “I had to,”

“Yoongi don’t do this,” Jin insisted as he moved his hand around Yoongi’s shoulder’s giving you a look that said, I’m sorry. At this point you could only give Jin a nod and gave him a tired smile.

“I had to come, she has someone else, I have to get her back,” the words frantically spilled from Yoongi’s lips and you couldn’t help but to think of Jungkook, which made you feel slightly guilty.

“I have to..” you said looking around and then back at Jin sighing. He could only nod and grab Yoongi’s arm as you started to close the door.

“I’m sorry!” you heard Yoongi as the door fell shut making your heart ache. A small part of you wanted to go back outside and hold Yoongi, tell him that it’d be okay and that you were willing to give him another chance. The only thing that held you back was the fact that he had two free years to do that before the wedding yet he was doing it now that he saw another man in your life. Your head was starting to hurt the more you thought about it. Walking back into the kitchen you grabbed your cup of water, taking small sips as you heard small knocks on the door. The man you were in love with was knocking and you couldn’t move your feet.

Jungkook arrived in the afternoon to find you sitting down on the floor of your kitchen, holding on to your cup of water that never seemed to finish. His eyes moved from you to the fridge, grabbing two banana milks and poking the straws in before handing it to you.

“Jin called me, he told me what happened and I don't want an explanation from you. I’m just here to provide myself in anyway that I can help you,” he whispered as he sat next to you. His head moved to lay your head on his shoulder, making you nod your head. You took a sip of your milk and sighed as your slipped your hand into his. The contrast of your hands in his made you think of how you would always do this with Yoongi. His bony fingers compared to your slender ones, while Jungkook's were more bulky and it made your hand seem tiny as if it could get lost in it.

“I don't want to love him anymore,” you said as you turned to look back at the man beside you. “He had two years to come and tell me how much he missed me, yet now that he sees me with someone else I suddenly become a thing back in his life. I don't want to be some kind of filler in his life,”

“You need someone to cherish you as much as you cherish them, maybe even more,” Jungkook finally said as he took your hand in his. The feeling of his hand was comforting considering the fact that you were both sitting down on the dirty floor of your kitchen with half empty bottles of banana milk.

“Where am I supposed to find that? Please, enlighten me,” you snorted back as you drank the remaining of milk in the bottle. Putting it down you moved away from the man beside you, his hand quickly reaching up to pull you down into him. The way you were pulled made you land on his lap and your eyes could only widen at the sudden action.

Your eyes quickly found Jungkook's and you could only pray he couldn't hear your heart that was pretty much beating out of your chest. His face was only a few centimeters away from yours. His hand was pushing your hair away from your face, your breath hitched as his hand touched your jaw. Jungkook’s finger slipped down to your chin pushing your face up to look at him. You felt his hands snake around your torso pulling you close to him, his face buried in your chest smiling as he pulled back from you to look at you.

“You deserve everything.”

The next time you saw Yoongi was on tv because he was performing his comeback song that talked about heartbreak. You were chilling with Jisoo and Jennie watching Music Bank when his face propped up on the screen. You knew it was him before you saw the screen, his voice was something that was engraved in every living cell in your body.

“Oh hey, w-we don’t have to watch this,” Jisoo laughed nervously as she reached over for the remote. You could only sigh and shake your head as you grabbed the remote before she could.

“He’s famous Jisoo, I can't avoid because he’s going to be everywhere,” you said as Jennie stole the remote from you and flipped the channels back to some drama that was on.

“No, but you can date Jeon Jungkook,” Jennie said as she grabbed the bowl of popcorn from your lap and shrugged.

“Wait, hold up, who?” Jisoo asked with a questioning look in her face that was quickly replaced with a grin. “Oh my god! Wait, yes!”

“Guys, I’m sure he doesn't see me that way calm down,”

“Uh, yes he does he takes you on dates all the time,” Jennie said as a handful of popcorn landed on your lap and hair making you gasp. The three of you laughed and threw the remaining popcorn at each other. You were pretty sure you were going to find some later on when you showered (again).

“They're not dates, we just casually hang out,” you said back as you picked up some of the popcorn around you. You knew what she was saying was at least kind of true, but you refused to let her win.

“You steal half of his hoodies,” Jisoo said as she pulled out her phone, by the look on her face you knew it was Jin texting her again.

“That doesn't mean anything,”

“He’s got a key to your place and you to his,” Jennie brought up making Jisoo drop her phone on her lap. She could only grin and give you very fake wink which made you gag.

“Hey, I’m not the only one!”

“Okay but the other person is his roommate!”

“Just date him,” Jisoo shrugged and Jennie could only nodded to her comment. You groaned and stood up, shaking off any crumbs from your clothes.

“I’m leaving,” you scoffed and grabbed your bag making both girl laugh. You stuck your tongue out as you reached for your phone in your bag. You noticed a few texts from Jungkook and you could only bite the inside of your cheek to hold back the grin threatening to form on your lips.

[4.37 pm] jungkook: i know ur chillin with ur girl pals but i got chinese

[4.39 pm] jungkook: i got u dumplings

[4.39 pm] jungkook: and soup

[4.48 pm] you: ur place or mine????

[4.48 pm] jungkook: im already at urs bc jimin has his highschool friend over

[4.49 pm] jungkook: but hurry up before ur food gets cold

[4.50 pm] you: u got it bunny

[4.51 pm] jungkook: i hate u

[4.52 pm] jungkook: im kidding but hurry

“Is Jeon bringing take out to your place?” Jennie said wiggling her eyebrows at you and Jisoo could only laugh at her. Shaking your head again you waved as you walked to the door and turned back to look at your friends.

“I’m leaving! Goodbye!”

You were in the middle of trying to find the keys to your apartment when the door suddenly burst open to find a very hungry bunny in front of you. Of course, that bunny was no other than Jeon Jungkook and from the looks of it, he had already devoured at least half of the lo mein and pretty much most of the rice. Not that you were complaining about the rice because he always forgot you preferred fried rice over plain white rice. He would always tell you it was wrong to fry it because plain one made your taste buds dance at the mixture of wonderful flavors in your mouth, and honestly you would always punch him after that.

“What took you so long to get here? Seriously your soup is on the verge of getting cold,” you heard Jungkook say as he let you in through the door making you laugh.

“Have you ever thought that we live in the middle of a city, that we might encounter traffic sometimes?” you questioned back as you kicked off your shoes and set them on the side of the door, looking back at Jungkook once you were done.

“Go eat your dumplings.” he finished and moved his hand around your shoulders, pulling you towards where the remaining food was.

Once the both of you were full and the food was cleared from your sight you both laid on the floor, your head resting on Jungkook’s thigh. You could only think of what your friends had said prior to being with him again.

“Whoa, are you actually thinking?” Jungkook asked as he sat up, holding himself up with his hands.

“Well, there’s some stuff that Jennie and Jisoo brought up and now that I’m adding things up they kind of fit together. I don't know how I feel about it or well, maybe how if I do something about it, it might change things and I don't want change,” you said turning on your side to get a better look at him. His eyes were laced with sleepiness and you knew he was awake just for you which made your insides flutter a bit.

“Change should always be for a good reason, if this change would make you happy in the end then it should be worth it,” Jungkook said making you nod at his words. Your eyes shifted from his to his shirt feeling your cheeks burn. Uncoincidentally your hands went to rub your cheeks, blushing wasn’t something you did often.

“What if this changes it?” you whispered as you picked at the the small hole on Jungkook’s jeans, tugging out small strands until he reached over and grabbed your hand in his.

“You’re going to make it bigger if you keep poking at it, also it?” he asked as his hand gave yours a small squeeze, his fingers moving through your hair making you shut your eyes.

“You,” you finally sighed keeping your eyes closed. You didn't want to be wrong about the suspicions between you and your friends, which is why you couldn’t look into his eyes. The feeling of a pair of lips finally broke your stance, making your eyes flutter open for a brief second before your lids fell shut once again.

Jungkook’s lips feel chapped and comfortably soft against yours, his hand was brought up to cup your cheek. The amount of different feelings that the kiss brought was too many for you to count. It was so long since you had be kissed and it felt like something foreign to you. Your hand found its way to rest against Jungkook's chest, your hand gripped his shirt as you pulled him closer to your body. You pulled away only to notice your breath was jagged, so was his and you could only smile. His forehead was pressed against yours, small pecks were pressed to your lips until they found your cheek.

“You have no idea how long I’ve been waiting for that.” he whispered against your skin, your hand was wrapped around his neck. His head was on your shoulder and his arms around your torso. Small circles were being traced over your sides and you thought about how perfect this moment was.

When Jennie told you, ‘go on a date is fun’ you never imagined the stress that came with it. Of course, you had gone on plenty of dates but you were now a little rusty and you had already changed your outfit about five times in the last thirty minutes. You took one last glance at the clock and sighed again. The amount of clothes only managed to grow as time past on.

“Maybe I can just tell him I’m sick or something,” you whispered to yourself as you looked back at the mirror. The jeans Jisoo let you borrow showed off your curves in the right places, but you still had the urge to cover yourself up. Sighing you found yourself picking up one of the hoodies you stole from Jungkook and slipped it on.

“How about you just get your ass in my car?” your eyes widened making you turn towards where the voice came from. There was a very nicely dressed Jungkook in black jeans, a white shirt neatly tucked into his pants, along with his NASA bomber that he refused to let you borrow. ‘If I let you borrow it I’ll never get it back.’ you remember him saying when you first asked.

“Jeon! Fucking warn someone before you come in!” you screamed as you walked up to him and playfully pushed him back. He could only laugh at your actions which made you pout.

“You just looked too cute picking out shirts and being pouty and shit,” he said moving his arms around you, pressing a kiss to the top of your head.

“You’re an idiot.”

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