#I really hope it was the pain from the surgery and her pain meds not having kicked in

[awrkive]

THE LOVE PROGNOSIS, pt. 2 — JJK (m.)

for as long as you can remember, you’ve always been a hopeless romantic.

the girl who’s always dreamt of cheesy encounters with her soulmate, grand love declarations, and a cute little beach wedding to boot. but reality pretty much slaps you hard right on the face, because love, unfortunately, doesn’t come grand — it’s simple and it’s quiet, but it is quite painful, especially when the love that you’ve been seeking for all your adult life has just been right under your nose all this time.

PAIRING jungkook x female reader // mingyu x female reader

GENRE r18+ (angst, fluff, smut) MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!

CHAPTER WORD COUNT 27.5k

CHAPTER WARNINGS/MISC medical!au, roommates!au, surgeon!jk, surgeon!reader (they are both 4th year residents and are co-workers), corporate lawyer!mingyu, oc and jk are bffs since med school but their love language is fighting each other <3, jk and mingyu are bffs during undergrad, hopeless romantic!oc. shirtless jk in almost every scene ijbol he needs to get locked up, jk thigh tattoo 😔 a dash of sexual themes (ie: making out, grinding) and violence, this is pretty much MED SCHOOL LORE GALORE bcs boy, was there so much history mentioned here, 3/4 of this is in jk pov, so ladies.... prepare yourselves 🤔so much fluff, and we counter that with not major but not minor either ANGST, so many conversations and dialogues in this one lol, this hopefully offers every answer youre looking for from part one, when ur done reading the chapter this is how the keyring looks like

NOTES hi!! this chapter was supposed to be longer but i was like.. fuck that 😭 its getting too long. anyway. hope u guys enjoy this one!! this is my most favorite thing ive ever written i think n im weirdly very proud of this one idk. scream into my inbox and the reply section if u have #thoughtss 😄😄 [ important: pls make sure to read the note below ]

[ TLP MOODBOARD ] // [ SPOTIFY PLAYLIST ]

SERIES MASTERLIST | MAIN MASTERLIST

You take your sweet time trying to right your wrongs.

After that day, you were the one to initiate a call with Mingyu which he answered thankfully (you were a little skeptical about him calling you that night). You went over to his place after your shift, apologizing to him for lying about your roommate situation. Admittedly, Mingyu still doesn’t seem to be wholly okay with it – but he doesn’t really say anything more about it. He kissed you better that night, his lips making you forget all about the stress that you’ve went through for the day, convincing you to stay over.

The night bled into two when he said he couldn’t let you go. Mingyu was persistent and you were unwilling to go in the first place. Partly because who didn’t want to spend more time with their significant other? But it’s also because of a certain someone that is no other than Jeon Jungkook.

Those two nights are going on four – which means that you’ve been avoiding Jungkook for the past three days now.

It doesn’t seem like a difficult task though because Jungkook seems to be doing the same. That was your hunch. He replies to you with dry-ass “okay”s when you text him about not going home because you’re staying at Mingyu’s. Nothing more, and nothing less.

Which is unusual of him. Sure, in your almost decade-long friendship, you’ve fought a bunch of times. But it usually gets resolved in a day or two. And Jungkook wasn’t ever cold like he is right now.

See, the regular Jungkook would find you anywhere on your floor at the hospital just to annoy you. When your time allows it, you eat together with your friends at lunch.

But now, he seems to always have something to do – which, okay, fair. He’s a surgeon, after all. But he doesn’t even spare you a glance whenever you two meet halfway in the hallways. Yesterday, you coincidentally scrubbed in together for the same surgery but he did not say a word to you other than, “Scalpel”.

The rest of your friends are already asking about it. Doyeon told you he had lunch with Jungkook this afternoon, but when she mentioned that maybe you were free to go with them, Jungkook suddenly had to look over a patient’s chart.

It’s not just a hunch anymore. He really is avoiding you.

And to be honest, you’re tired of the whole pussyfooting around. He’s being childish – and you’ll be the better person to come and talk to him about it. Granted, you’re three days late. But at least you’re doing it.

You texted Mingyu earlier this afternoon that you’re coming home to your apartment tonight. He was bummed about it, you could feel it through his message, nonetheless he replied saying he’ll miss you, which put a smile to your tired face from work.

When you went home from your shift at 9pm, Jungkook wasn’t anywhere in the house. Which was a shame – because you were planning to talk to him.

Well. Maybe you’d wait for him.

But it seemed like you underestimated your exhaustion for the day because as soon you finished showering, dressing yourself with your bed clothes which consists of comfortable flimsy camisole and panty shorts, you went straight to bed and passed out – forgetting about Jungkook.

It’s past 2 am when you feel yourself waking up from your deep slumber, stomach grumbling at the emptiness, and you realize you did not only forget about waiting for Jungkook but also about eating dinner.

Walking out of your room, you head straight to the kitchen where you immediately go to open the refrigerator to see if there’s something in it you can consume. There are boxes of Chinese food take-out which makes your eyes light up. When you open to smell them, it seems that they’re still new.

You deduce it must be Jungkook’s.

That gives you the predicament of whether you should eat it or not. You take you’re not exactly on good terms as of the moment – therefore you can’t eat his food. But you’re really hungry.

Throwing away your inhibitions, you open one of the boxes, not even bothering to heat the food.

“Hey,”

You almost jump upon hearing another voice. Looking to your side, you see Jungkook approaching, with only his boxers on, upper half naked.  

“H-hey,” you say, pursing your lips into a thin line. “Are these yours?” You point to the take-out box in your hand.

Jungkook nods and heads straight to your direction. Taking one of the boxes, he hauls himself to the kitchen island, twisting his body so that he can face you.

“Yep.” he responds, dipping his fingers inside the box and taking out strands of noodles from it.

You wince at the sight. “Look like worms.”

“Just like worms.” Jungkook grins, chewing on them in that obnoxious way because he knows you don’t like noisy eaters.

Frowning, you decide to follow him to the island and haul yourself on top of it as well, sitting beside him. Jungkook scoots to the side to give you more room.

“It’s kind of like eating naengmyeon, I don’t like naengmyeon.” You tell him, opening another box and feeling delighted to see untouched stir-fried rice. “Did you just buy this earlier?”

Jungkook nods. “Left them in the fridge when I realized I wasn’t too hungry.”

“Then you woke up feeling hungry?” You smile at him.

He chuckles. “Yeah. When did you get off work?”

“Nine. You?”

“Twelve am.”

You grimace at that, but nod in understanding.

There’s a beat of silence before Jungkook speaks up again.

“Didn’t expect to see you here tonight.”

“Just wanted to remind you I’m still your housemate…” you joke, brushing your elbow against his arm in a teasing manner.

Jungkook laughs as he shakes his head. He picks up another batch of noodles in his fingers and then offers it to you, prompting you to arch your brow at him. “Try it.”

You shake your head. “I hate cold noodles.”

“Just try,” He insists, placing it closer to your face. You scrunch your nose, skeptical. It makes Jungkook chuckle lowly. “Head back.”

Hesitantly, you tilt your head back and open your mouth as Jungkook puts the noodles inside it. You almost choke on it when Jungkook laughs mid-way, making you laugh as well, but thankfully, you were able to chew all of them just fine.

“What the fuck.” You frown, slapping his arm good-naturedly.

“Wasn’t so bad, huh?”

“It was bad.” You say, going back to eating your fried rice. Jungkook gives you a look that says he’s not convinced. Looking at his face, you roll your eyes, “It’s like eating–” you stop mid-sentence as Jungkook quickly wipes off something on the side of your lips. It’s so quick though that you brush it off just as instantly and continue, “—literal worms.”

“Imagine if worms tasted like noodles. Wouldn’t that be sick as hell?” Jungkook muses, stretching his arm over you to reach for another take-out box on the counter. It’s so sudden that your immediate reflex was to stretch your upper body backwards, feeling a little taken aback when Jungkook’s face gets a little too close to your stomach, with his arm rubbing over your bare thighs.

He seems like it doesn’t move him, though. Just goes back to his position casually and opens another box. As he does, you can’t help but take a quick look at his bulging thighs, the short length of his boxers letting you get a brief view of the tattoo that peeks out of the expanse of his skin. You’ve seen that before many times, but not the entirety – of course not. It looks like it goes up from way above. Anyway, it’s sort of like a flower, but you’re not sure. You never really asked him about it. He never brings it up either.

“Oh, man, the dumplings got cold.” Jungkook picks inside his box as if he’d miraculously find one that’s not cold.

You roll your eyes at his antics. “You stored them in the fridge for like how many hours now?”

Ignoring you, Jungkook takes out one dumpling, trying to eat it, and you watch as he visibly winces. In a moment, he shoots one straight to the trash bin across from you.

“Oh, that’s real mature.” You say dryly.

With that, Jungkook throws another one, giving you a cheeky grin when it lands in the bin successfully for the second time.

Pursing your lips, you sarcastically say, “Wow. Two points to Xavier from Jeon Jungkook.”

That makes Jungkook look at you instantly.

“How the hell do you know that?” He gives you a look of confusion but there’s amusement written all over his face at the same time.

“Well… Mingyu told me you both played for the basketball varsity team back in undergrad, so,”

Jungkook stops. There’s look of something in his eyes that you can’t quite point out, but then suddenly, he nods.

“He told you how good I was?” He says with a teasing tone, a contrast to his sudden and quick drop of mood a few seconds ago.

You throw him a tissue. “Don’t be cocky. He just mentioned it.”

“I was captain. Two-time MOP, 2018 and 2019 NCAA Men’s Basketball Tournament.”

You look at him with silent reverence. Well, Mingyu didn’t tell you all that, that’s for sure. It’s a bit surreal to picture Jungkook wearing a basketball uniform, though. You’re so used to seeing him in scrubs and lab gown and his usual casual, occasionally suits when you attend formal conferences. You’ve only ever seen him sweat it out whenever he works out in the living room.

“Impressive.” You say. Jungkook grins proudly. “It’s strange I only know about it now, though.”

“You never asked.” He shrugs. “What ‘bout you? I only know you’re little miss summa cum laude.”

Huffing, you jab at his arm when he mentions it, rolling your eyes at him which only earns you a chuckle. Regardless, you tell him, “2018 NCA College Nationals. We won Coed Division One.”

Jungkook arches a brow. “NCA… National Cheerleading Association?” You nod, eating from your take-out box so as to avoid Jungkook’s look after you do so.

“No fucking way,” He says incredulously. “Seriously?”

“Yeah,” You bite your lip to keep yourself from smiling too much. You never really get to share this part about you with a lot of people. To quote Jungkook, they never ask. It’s funny when they do get surprised by it though, like he is now. When Jungkook stares at you – you don’t know if it’s just in disbelief – longer than necessary, you realize he’s staring at your face and that makes you consciously fix a strand of hair behind your ear. “Go big blue, go big blue, show ‘em what wildcats can do.” You sing a in fast tempo, chuckling about how silly it sounds.

Jungkook utters a sound of amusement. “That’s… wow. Right now, I’m just picturing you cheering but it’s a bit hazy and shit.”

“You’re saying you can’t picture me cheering?” You playfully accuse, but you know exactly what he meant. Even you still don’t believe that you actually did cheer in undergrad. When you signed up for it, it was just because you had to choose a club, and you weren’t interested in anything other than that. You thought cheering would be fun and it was fun.

“No, I’m just—” Jungkook cuts himself off and looks at you. “Okay, now I totally deserve a cheer for that two-point shot I made just now.”

You laugh loudly at that. Covering your mouth, you look at him to see if he’s joking but he seems to be serious.

“No.” You say, your eyes widening, body stiffening.

“Come on,” Jungkook chuckles.

You roll your eyes. “You have to do more than a two-point shot to get a cheer.”

“Okay, what do you want me to do?” Jungkook eagerly presents a challange. You stifle a laugh when he gears up for something. “I can shoot dumplings further from here with my left hand.”

“Ten feet away,” You muse, giggling when Jungkook suddenly gets off the counter, carrying the box of dumplings, and positions himself further away from you. Laughing, you shake your head before you say, “You can’t do it.”

“Try me.” He says as he begins to pick out a dumpling and concentrate on the trash can. Before he shoots, he tells you, “This one’s for you.”

You watch as the dumpling misses the bin.

Jungkook beats you to speaking first. “I admit. I’m a bit rusty.”

Sneering, you eat your fried rice, not straying your eyes from him. “You have to shoot, like, three dumplings.”

“That was a trial shot.” he insists, eyeing you playfully, before he gears up for another again. You watch closely when he makes a move to shoot another dumpling.

It goes in. Jungkook smirks at you when you look at him, impressed.

“Not bad.” You cock your head to the side.

“Tss.” He shoots another shot again and it’s successful for the second time. “That’s two.” Jungkook shows you his fingers and you chuckle at his enthusiasm.

“Let’s see if you can get the third.”

Jungkook nods, and you cover a snicker again at the way his stance suddenly turns serious, as if he’s really taking the whole thing seriously.

In a few seconds, he shoots the last dumpling straight to the bin just as successfully as the last time.

“What did I say?” Jungkook brags as he goes over to the island across from you, sitting on the high chairs this time. You turn your body to look at him, containing your smile. “Your turn now.” Jungkook says with a smirk.

Your purse your lips. “I’m a bit rusty.”

“So was I!” Jungkook claims which prompts a chuckle from you.

You look at him for a while, unsure. You close your eyes, bobbing your head side to side, covering your face as you suddenly feel a sense of embarrassment at the thought of dancing in front of him.

“Promise you won’t laugh?” You say after Jungkook tries to remove your hands off your face.

He raises his right hand and fixes his sitting posture upright. “Promise.”

“If you show your teeth I’ll stop and so will this friendship.” You threaten as you bring your legs over the island to his direction.

Jungkook chuckles while saying a series of “Yeah”s, holding your hand to help you hop off the counter safely.

You take a few quick strides to place yourself in the space between your counter and dining area and look at Jungkook who settles himself comfortably in the kitchen island chair, watching you with relaxed position and crossed arms.

Feeling uncharacteristically shy, you stand upright, suddenly aware that you’re only wearing a pair of panty shorts and a fitted camisole. You don’t work out so you’re a bit conscious in front of Jungkook who looks really good in his natural form. You don’t even understand how he finds time to go to the gym or do his little work-out sesh during some nights or weekends, but you shake away the thought and smile at him coyly. He has the better body, sure, but you know well enough he’ll never judge you for yours… besides, it’s just Jungkook. He makes you feel safe and secure, no matter the context of the situation.

Off the top of your head, you do whatever it is you remember from your college routines and begin your yell.

“Wildcats, get up and shout! We’re the team that’s gonna take it out! Give it all you’ve got, let’s hear you roar!” You chuckle mid-way, forgetting a step. “Sorry,” you apologize quickly, but then continue right away, trapping your bottom lip with your teeth to prevent yourself from completely losing it. “We’re the Wildcats, and we’re here to score! Go Big Blue! Go Big Blue—" You make a mistake again and skip a beat with your finger snaps, and when you look at Jungkook, you can’t help but give in to the laughter that’s been bubbling up inside you. “I can’t do it!” You say, cutting your “performance” short.

“What? It was good!” Jungkook says, encouraging you to continue further.

You stifle a laugh as you go back to the top again but then your mind forgets the next step and you’re messing up the choreography again. At that point, you start mindlessly cheering; jumping around and flapping your arms to make it look like somewhat of a cheer but none of the coordination. You know it looks messy, so you run over to Jungkook shamefully, plopping on the chair beside him. Bringing your legs up to the seat and covering your face in your thighs, you can’t help but giggle in embarrassment.

“Woah,” Jungkook says, but you can say there’s a hint of laughter in his tone. You know it’s not out of mockery when he lifts your head up and boop your nose. “That was cute. Best cheer I’ve ever seen.”

“You’re pushing it.” You hiss, kicking his knee slightly.

Jungkook captures your leg, and you squeal when he pinches your thigh. You both laugh at that and you thought Jungkook’s gonna let go of your leg but he keeps it on his lap.

“My stomach hurts from laughing.” You tell him, taking a deep breath, trying to regulate your heart. Everything feels funny. Your cheer was funny. You must’ve looked so stupid.

Jungkook chuckles. “Wildcats, get up and shout—”

“Jungkook!” You cut him off, removing your leg from his lap to kick him again on the thigh this time. That only prompts him to laugh louder.

When the high of the moment fades, Jungkook looks over at you.

“Do you feel sleepy?”

You shake your head. “Not really. At least not yet.”

He hums, and then takes your box of fried rice to eat from it.

There’s the silence again, but it’s quiet and comfortable. No weird tension sitting in the air.

“Jungkook,” You call him after a while.

“Hm.”

You clear your throat. “I meant to talk to you,” Jungkook stops eating and looks at you to acknowledge you. “I’m sorry.”

He stares at you for a moment. Then, he chuckles, shaking his head. “You know what’s funny? I was gonna talk to you yesterday to say I’m sorry but then you didn’t talk to me at all in the OR. I thought you were still mad at me.”

With furrowed brows, you tell him, “I thought you were mad at me. You only said “scalpel” in the OR and then that was it. No hi’s or hello’s in the hallways for the past three days.”

“Me? Mad at you?” He says, as if he can’t believe you would even think that. “I mean, you piss me off sometimes, but I don’t think I was ever mad at you.” You pout. Jungkook smiles. “I can never be mad at you,” His look is gentle and warm that you feel a little flustered for a reason unknown. It just ticks a little something in your brain, tugging something at your heart. Then, Jungkook sighs. “I’m sorry, too. For the way I went about it. The “bringing boys here” comment was out of line.”

There’s a wince on your face when you hear that.

That comment did hurt a little.

But you know it was just a heat-in-the-moment type of thing, and he just wasn’t able to think through his words well enough when he was… well, pissed – and rightfully so. Because you did something offensive to him, and you can’t blame him for feeling the way he felt.

You nod at Jungkook. “Thank you for saying that. I’m saying sorry because I realized what you said. I should’ve informed you I was bringing Mingyu home, and I should’ve told him about you being my roommate. We really could’ve avoided that situation.”

“You can just tell me beforehand if you’re bringing him to our place.” Jungkook shrugs.

You chuckle. “No. That won’t happen again.” And it’s true. It’s awkward and it’s rude when you have a roommate.

Jungkook looks at you. “Okay. I won’t do it as well,” You shake your head, playfully rolling your eyes at him. “I’m guessing you settled it pretty quickly with him?” He gestures at your neck and you realize he’s referring to the necklace you’re wearing – the one Mingyu gave you the very same day you fought.

You want to point out it’s not really new, but you settle with, “Yeah. Fortunately.” as a response.

“I really am sorry for what happened.” Jungkook says and you can feel the sincerity in his voice.

“It’s fine,” Touching his arm, you give him a small smile. “Have you and Mingyu talked?”

Jungkook shakes his head. Nibbling on your bottom lip, you think about how that’s… not good. They were friends before you and have just met each other again after so many years – you do not want to be that kind of person who gets in the way of some other people’s relationship.

And you really can’t have Jungkook not liking your boyfriend or your boyfriend not liking Jungkook, either.

But as much as you want to suggest that they talk it out, you know you can’t. Besides, you trust that they eventually will. They’re grown men.

“So…” you trail off. “Are we okay?”

Jungkook’s lips tilt upwards. “Are we okay?”

“Come on,” you roll your eyes. “Do we hug it out or like – I don’t know – handshake on it?”

“Let’s hug it out like we’re twelve.” Jungkook grins and in a moment, he scoots closer to you and wraps his arms around your waist, resting his head on your chest.

The angle is a bit awkward with Jungkook crouching too much you don’t doubt his position is anything but comfortable, but it works, and it gives you the opportunity to pat his head as you say, “I missed hanging out with you, buddy.”

“Can’t say the same thing.”

That earns him a slight pinch to the ear easily accessible to you.

“Ow!” Jungkook says and then add, “I hate to ruin the moment but… you’re not wearing a bra.”

You quickly grab both sides of his head to get him off your chest. He comes back sitting upright on his chair, laughing.

“Fuck off—” you flip him off and then look over your box of fried rice, but then you remember he was also eating it earlier. “You ate all of it!”

“Finders keepers.”

“I hate you.”

“Hm.”

You shake your head, standing up and starting to grab all the boxes to take them to the trash bin.

“By the way, I just got my approval from HR for our trip the next two weeks. Have you?” You ask him across the room. You can see Jungkook’s face light up at the mention.

“Yeah, of course. Got approved yesterday.” Jungkook grins. You watch as he stares at you a bit longer, his face showing a hint of confusion.

You arch a brow. “Why does your face look like that?” Jungkook shakes his head, obviously ready to dismiss it. But you’re persistent. “What is it?” You say, walking towards his direction and stopping in front of him.

“Nothing…” he trails off. Then he rubs the back of his head. “I just really thought that you…” You squint your eyes at him. Then he chuckles lightly and swipes his fingers through his hair. “I just thought the trip would be cancelled.”

Your eyebrows furrow. Frowning, you nudge at him. “What? Of course, not! We planned that trip like six months ago. I’m not backing out.”

Jungkook gives you a shy smile.

“Okay.”

You can’t help it. You bring your hands to his cheeks and pinch them.

“He’s so excited for his birthday trip!” You say, intentionally talking like you would to a toddler.

Jungkook predictably forces your hands out of his skin and holds your wrist a bit tight as he rolls his eyes at you.

“Knock it off.” He glares at you. But you’re not done with your fun, so you poke your finger to his waist, knowing that’s his weak spot, and tease him some more. “Seriously.” Jungkook huffs out and your laughter becomes louder because he looks like a grumpy child right now.

“Sorry.” you say, still giggling. He furrows his brows, and you can’t help it, you poke at his waist again. When you do it, though, Jungkook captures your wrist, effectively stopping another one of your juvenile assaults. Suddenly, you start noting the mirth in his eyes.

You’ve seen that look before and it always ends up with you almost dying from too much laughter because he always—

“You’re gonna regret that.”

You let out a squeal as Jungkook takes ahold of your waist, and before you can even voice out a protest, he easily hoists you up against his body, bouncing you up until you're hanging around his shoulder like a sack bag.

“What the hell, put me down, you prick!” You complain, slapping the rugged muscles on his back. But Jungkook just responds with a series of clicks of his tongue, carrying you across the living room.

You know he’s about to put you on the couch to tickle you to death, so you do what you could and bite down on the skin of his back.

“Ouch!” Jungkook immediately reacts, stumbling a little in his stride. You snort at that, but you immediately frown when you feel a slap to your ass.

“You asshole!”

“You just lowered your chances of being spared,” Was his last words before you feel yourself getting put down on the surface of the sofa. Soon after, Jungkook’s poking his fingers to your waist and stomach, prompting you to erupt in fits of giggles and laughter, thrashing beneath him like a caged animal.

“Pl—stop—oh my god!” You say, weakly reaching for his arms. When Jungkook doesn’t relent, you continue wriggling under him, laughing and choking, saying a variety of, “Stop! I’m —” giggle, “gonna—” then another snort, “—die!”

Jungkook chuckles. He torments you some more before finally stopping his fingers in their ministrations.

“You deserve that.” Jungkook says when you both came down from the high, laughing at the messy state of your hair and the way you try to catch your breath like you just ran a triathlon.

You breathe in and out deeply, clutching your stomach that still hurts from laughing.

“Fuck you.” You hiss, giving him the finger.

Jungkook bursts into laughter, and from his position in between your legs, he lets himself fall on top of you.

“Jungkook, no!” Pushing him off you, you try to get away from him but the goof just forces himself beside you instead, sticking his much bigger build in between you and the back of the couch. It makes you scoot near the edge as a result, and you hold onto his arm so that you don’t fall off, tangling your leg against his own for added support. Pinching his waist in which he lets out an ingenuine “Owe!” to, you face him as you say, “You are so annoying.”

Jungkook just gives you a shit-eating grin. “Who started it?”

“You almost killed me.” You say dryly.

“Don’t be dramatic.” He rolls his eyes.

Suddenly, you realize the position you are both in.

Your bare legs are intermingled against each other, Jungkook has one arm wrapped around your waist, and from the lack of clothes on both sides, you can feel pretty much everything.

There’s a weird feeling in the pit of your stomach upon the epiphany.

Jungkook’s looking at you with a playful grin, but as he notices you staring at him, he stills. From such close proximity, you can almost trace out the lines of his features. The scar on his cheek, the mole under his lip, and the pimple scar that was probably from a week ago. At that thought, you think about: if you can see him so close like this, he can also probably see you, and that’s when you break away from the contact.

“Shit.” You hiss as you let yourself fall off the floor by rolling around, away from his hold and touch and him in general.

Jungkook immediately scoots to the edge of the sofa to look down at you with confused eyes. “The hell?”

“Don’t worry,” you wave your hand at him.

He snorts. “Did you just fall?”

You roll your eyes. Of course, he’d think that. But you let him, standing up from the floor.

“Yeah, yeah, whatever you say.”

You hear Jungkook’s boisterous laughter as you walk towards the kitchen again, stopping in front of the fridge to get some water.

“You’re going to bed now?” Asks Jungkook, following you to the fridge and mirroring your activity.

Nodding at his question, you peer from the rim of the glass as you answer, “Yeah, I don’t want to be sleeping at the hospital later.”

“Fair.”

Soon after, you both decided to clean up a bit in the kitchen and when you finished, you two headed towards the direction of your bedrooms. It’s located just near the kitchen, with the doors located beside each other.

When you turn the knob open to your own door, Jungkook calls you, catching your attention.

You arch a brow at him, waiting.

“Good night,” Jungkook says. You drop your kitted brows and smile. You’re about to greet him the same but then he adds, “Also– that was a really great cheer.”

“Ugh, Jungkook!”

You look across the bed to see Mingyu still on his laptop on his worktable, working on something. An hour and thirty minutes have passed since you arrived at his place, but you’re still not getting the least bit of attention from him.

You get it, it’s work, but he asked you to come over… isn’t it only fair to expect a little bit of something?

Getting up from the bed, you trudge over to his direction.

“Hi,” you say, ducking down to wrap your arms around his neck from the back of his swivel chair and kissing the spot below his ear.

“Hi,” Mingyu meets the kiss you give him on the lips. He reaches for your hands resting on top of chest and holds it there, looking at you. You delight at the hint of attention. “I’ll just be in a few minutes. You’re staying, right?”

You grin. “Of course.”

“Good.”

Rolling your eyes, you take your hands off him and stand upright once again. Mingyu rotates his chair so he can look at you with his undivided attention, voicing out a low whistle when he takes in your outfit – or lack of it thereof.

You arch a brow, knowing well he’s ogling you only in your bra and panties, squinting your eyes at him. Slowly, you glide your leg over his waist and plop yourself down on his lap, waiting for any protest from him. It doesn’t come, and so you give him a grin before planting your lips against his.

The kiss turns heated in a matter of seconds, with Mingyu squeezing over your bra and taking in your soft moans against his mouth, feeling the delicious roll of your hips against his crotch where you feel a semi growing already.  

“Sweetheart,” Mingyu grunts. When you don’t answer that, he cups your jaw, making you look at him. “__.”

“What?” You say, more like a whine, looking at him with hooded eyes. You’re starting to feel sticky in your underwear and you need him to do something about it.

“Not now, sweetheart. I told you, I’m working.”

You frown. There’s a beat of silence before you let out a sigh. “Okay.” You say, getting off his lap.

“I’ll take care of you when I’m done.” He promises, taking ahold of your wrist, looking up at you.

Pursing your lips, you look away. “It’s fine.” When Mingyu lets go, you look at the direction of the bathroom. “I’m gonna take a shower,” you tell him. “You’re free to join me if you want or whatever.”

You know he can’t and that he won’t.

“Alright.” Was the last thing you heard before you walked towards the bathroom door.

You’ve been over at his place too many times to count now, and you’re slowly building your shower essentials in his own bathroom. Your body wash, your face cream, your shampoo, your conditioner – even your moisturizer and your eye mask are already placed inside his bathroom cabinet.

As you step out of the shower box, all clean and fresh, you go over to the lavatory to brush your teeth. At the sight of both your cups sitting beside each other, you smile.

You look in the mirror – noting the way your lips can’t stop from curling up at the thoughts running inside your head.

Shaking them off, you grab Mingyu’s robe and put it over yourself, turning the knob around to step out of the bathroom.

You see Mingyu on his bed this time around, but his laptop’s still perched on his lap.

He looks up when he sees you. “Ready to sleep?”

You nod, feeling at home the way you automatically go towards his closet to pick out a shirt and some panties you left over the time.

As you’re in the process of dressing yourself, a phone’s ding rings in the room.

Looking at Mingyu, you watch as he checks his phone, assuming it came from him. When he puts it down, he looks at your plugged phone on the bedside table.

“What is it?” You ask, now properly dressed, walking to the bed.

You note the way Mingyu’s gaze changes as he hands you your phone.

“It’s Jungkook.” He says with a weirdly clipped tone. Then another ding comes. A beat, and then your phone rings.

Your brow shoots up, taking the device from him and checking it yourself.

Jungkook’s face is plastered over your screen – a picture of him wasted in his room two years ago, taken from your Thailand trip with the rest of your friends. He’s sleeping with his mouth open, shirtless in the middle of the hut, only covered up with his trunks. You remember setting it as his contact photo because it was funny back then. Jungkook hates the photo, and your friends always made fun of him for it.

Right now, though, it doesn’t feel the least bit funny. Not when Mingyu’s certainly saw it. Not when he looks a little put off as soon as he sees a glimpse of it when he was passing your phone to you.

“I’ll just answer this.” You say, standing from the bed again.

You don’t expect Mingyu to suddenly shoot you a question, “You can’t answer here?”

Brows knitting together, you give him an uncertain look. “It’s just Jungkook.”

“Yeah… so, why not here?”

You relent, seeing the point he’s trying to make. Plopping yourself on the bed again, you answer Jungkook’s call and put the phone over your ear.

“Jungkook,”

“__,” he sighs out your name, sounding relieved. “Thank fuck.”

“What’s wrong?” You ask, growing a bit concerned at his tone.

You can hear some shuffling from the other line as Jungkook tells you, “Did you see me with my pager in the locker room earlier?”

“Oh, uh… let me think…” you trail off, trying to remember the events earlier. As you do that, you notice Mingyu’s fingers trailing his hands to your bare legs, but you ignore it as you answer Jungkook, “I think I didn’t, yeah. I didn’t.” Jungkook hisses. “Did you check your car?” you ask, trying to help out.

“Already did. It’s not in there, either. I really think I accidentally threw it out in the bin along with some trash in my pockets.” He says, sounding a little distressed now.

“Well… you can always just go to the operator, you know? Get a new pager?” you offer. There’s a drop of kiss on your shoulder that makes you shudder, and you look at Mingyu with furrowed brows. He doesn’t say anything, though, just let his fingers trail upwards, his hand sliding under your shirt, gripping your thigh. Your boyfriend just gives you a sly smile, and you squint your eyes at him, confused at what he’s playing at. 

“I know. But, ugh, you know I lost two pagers already this year. Sungkyun hates me at this point—”

Jungkook’s answer suddenly drowns out when Mingyu grazes his thumb on your clothed clit.

“Oh.”

“—what?” Jungkook halts, asking about your abrupt reaction.

You bite your lip in an effort to shut yourself up, and when Mingyu’s hand makes another move again, your free hand shoots up to stop him.

“Hold on a second, Jungkook,” you say, quickly pressing mute.

Mingyu looks at you with a smirk, playful smile painting his face. “You know you can continue, right?”

At that, your brows furrow even further.

“What are you doing?” You didn’t mean to sound curt but with the way Mingyu’s expression changes, it may have sounded that way.

You… couldn’t help it.

“I wanted to touch you,” Mingyu tells you after a beat of awkward silence. Then, his hand retreats to himself. “Do you not want to?”

There’s guilt that springs up inside you when you see the look on his face as he says those words.

“No, I’m sorry— it’s just… I want to. I just… not with somebody on the phone?” You put it out like a question, unsure of yourself.

The room is quiet for awhile and suddenly there’s a thick tension that hangs in the air.

You reach out for Mingyu but then drop your hand to your sides when he moves to sit on the edge of the bed.

He turns his head to you with an unreadable expression on his face. “Is it because it’s Jungkook?”

You frown at his tone.

It sounded accusatory.

“Excuse me?” You say, taking immediate offense. When Mingyu shrugs, you feel a bit of annoyance bubble up inside you. “I would’ve still stopped you if it was anybody else on the phone, Mingyu.” you say, tone firm and leveled.

“I’m sorry, then.”

But he definitely doesn’t sound like it. His sarcasm makes you snap. “What’s up with you?”

Mingyu opens his mouth to say something but then he closes it again. You watch him with confused eyes, completely at loss of context where he’s at. The night was going fine as usual and suddenly, there’s this.

After a few seconds, Mingyu sighs. “What are you even talking about right now?” He glances at your phone.

“It’s—” you take a glance at it too. “It’s just his pager.”

“Pager?”

“Yes.”

“He asks you about his pager in the middle of the night, knowing full well you’re with me?”

“I—” you stop yourself, words suddenly getting lost in your tongue. Not because you don’t know the answer to his question, but because you hate the way he phrased it – and honestly, you’re starting to feel icky about how he’s going with it. What was he trying to do? Pin you down with accusatory notions?

You don’t fucking get it. Jungkook’s his friend. It’s so bizarre to even think about how Mingyu is seemingly acting jealous over his supposed friend.

“You know what?” You say instead, not wanting to discuss it further with him anymore. It’s just gonna lead to an unnecessary fight – and frankly, you don’t want to deal with his jealousy. It seems so… futile. “Can we just sleep this whole thing off?”

Mingyu looks at you and for the first time, his eyes don’t look gentle. He looks at you with a bit of a frown, and you get it. You do. You’re not exactly happy, either. Not right now, with the way he’s acting.

“Do you want me to go?” You ask, ready to step out of bed.

“I didn’t tell you to.” Mingyu says, voice equally strained.

You sigh. “What do you want me to do, Mingyu? Are you jealous, is that it?” You meant it to be completely rhetorical, not at all expecting him to say anything.

But he answers instantly. “What if I say I am?”

Your lips part. You’re surprised at the confirmation, but you shake your thoughts off it.

“Then it’s completely unnecessary,” you tell him, as genuine as you can sound. When Mingyu doesn’t move in his position on the edge of the bed, you crawl towards him. Testing the waters, you touch his arm to see if he would avoid your touch, but when you do rest your hand on his shoulder, he doesn’t stray. “I like you, Gyu.”

Cocking your head to the side, you watch as his face still sports a cold expression. But he says, “I like you too, you know that,”

“But…?” you try to get out the words from him, because you knew there’s more.

“I don’t want you to think I’m being irrational about this whole thing,” he starts, and you nod your head, trying to show him that you get it. Mingyu licks his lips before he continues, “I just… I guess I just want you to put boundaries around your friendship with Jeon.”

That makes you stop. Nevermind the strange way he called Jungkook by his surname.

“How do you mean by that?” You ask with furrowed brows.

“You’re just really close with him. And you live in one apartment together.” He points out.

“Mingyu…” you say, suddenly feeling tired all over again. “I thought we already talked about that.”

“Doesn’t mean I’m a hundred percent comfortable with it, you know?”

It feels like you got electrocuted by his words the way you quickly retreat your hands. “That’s…” you trail off, not really knowing what to say.

Thankfully, though, Mingyu interjects before you can slip into a dilemma.

“I know, I know about why you’re living with him and all that stuff. We talked about it. It’s just…” he reaches for your hand. Entangling your fingers together, Mingyu brings your knuckles to his lips and presses a kiss there. “I want you all the time. And I guess I really am just jealous – even though it’s juvenile. I’m jealous that he’s known you far longer than me.”

“But— I’m here thrice a week. I make time for the both of us. And it doesn’t really matter how long you’ve known me for, Gyu,” you respond truthfully.

He nods.

“I’m sorry.”

You shake your head. “No, I’m sorry. I guess I just— I got in way over my head that I also forgot to take your feelings into account,”

Mingyu smiles, and there goes his soft gentle expression again.

“I know. It’s fine. You don’t have anything to be sorry about. It’s me who’s being unreasonable.”

“No, it’s not unreasonable,” you tell him. “I get it. Boundaries, Mingyu. I know what you’re talking about.”

Mingyu scooches closer and presses a sweet kiss to your lips. You gladly bask in it, smiling against his lips, keeping your gentle gaze towards him as he breaks away.

“I’m sorry for being a bummer.”

You kiss him again and the way he inserts his tongue in your mouth distracts you a bit but you manage to break the contact. Soon, he’s lying down beside you and when you check your phone, your call with Jungkook has already ended, but there are two messages from him on your notifications.

[12:35am] jaykay🤠: are you still alive [12:38am] jaykay🤠: ok nevermind i’ll hang the call i actually found my pager just now 😭 [12:38am] jaykay🤠: it was in the kitchen counter LOL [12:45am] jaykay🤠: ok bye. night

You were going to reply but decide against it for some reason.

Putting your phone down to the bedside table, you follow Mingyu under the sheets and as usual, you face against his direction just like he does.

Unfortunately, he doesn’t really like cuddling that much. He’d share his space to a certain extent, just like how you got into his bed in the first place, but not the lengths of cuddling together in bed. Mingyu didn’t tell you why – and you don’t want to come off as clingy, so you don’t bother asking.

It’s strange, though. Now that he told you a while ago that he, apparently, “wants you all the time”. Shouldn’t he like to cuddle you in bed, then? But you don’t want to dwell in it too much, afraid that you may be digging yourself a hole if you were to keep it up.

As you lay your cheek on your folded hands, you play back the events of the night and think about how you’ve seen this film before.

When you were in med school, Eunwoo always had something to say about your friendship with Jungkook. He wasn’t direct with it, but with the way he never bothered to make friends with Jungkook or always had a grimace on his face when you mentioned him in passing, it was enough for you to conclude that Eunwoo was always… wary of Jungkook – and definitely in a jealous type of way.

He said almost the exact same thing as Mingyu – that boundaries should be built; that Jungkook and you are too close, why is he calling you in the middle of the night to ask about mundane things, why does he know too much about your mother’s preferences, and why is he buddy-buddy with your dad who otherwise always had an uninterested expression on his face?

It wasn’t even just Mingyu. Your past flings for the past four years you’ve been single always got put off when they heard that you’re rooming with a guy – even more so when you mention that he’s your bestfriend.

You’re not stupid to not see how it looks like from the outside perspective – and you’re not dense to not ever consider the possibility of something romantic brewing within the friendship. You have thought about it before – had an instant crush on him the first time you met at the law library back in post grad school. But it was fleeting at best, especially when Eunwoo came into your life a few weeks later.

Nayeon, Doyeon, and Taehyung have also hinted at it. Sometimes – most of the time, really, teasing you two, especially Taehyung. Even the most mature one among your friends – Yoongi – once told you both to get married at forty. He was joking, though he looked way too serious for someone who was just supposed to be joking.

And there was that one dreadful time in third year of med school when Jungkook almost kissed you.

You buried that memory in the very depths of your mind – not ever wanting to revisit it again. It was a bad time, and it was just not a good thing to look back at. Jungkook acted irresponsible, and you stupidly let yourself be complicit in it, even though you knew better.

Nothing even happened – but that memory was just that. A mere memory. You doubt Jungkook even remembers that himself.

Here’s the thing: you’ve just never seen Jungkook past the person you consider as a friend. You’ve never been weird about the women he dated – or if he dated, at all. He’s also always been supportive of your relationships… as far as you’re concerned. Regardless of what everybody says, you both seem to agree that you’re just better off as friends. You work better that way.

Jungkook’s a good guy, though. He does have tons of flings – but he’s just conventionally attractive and works hard for a body that is to die for. Women like that. Additionally, he has a stable job and even though he annoys you about splitting the delivery fee when you do take-out, he’s actually quite rich – or, his family is – he’d always insist.

You get it though. As a co-resident, you both don’t really make that much (for the work that you do) – at least not yet.

But he was indeed born in generational wealth, coming from a family of doctors, which is why it’s quite impressive that he knows how to handle his life by his own hard work. His intelligence and perseverance are some of the things you admire about him, his drive to make a name for himself and never leeching off his family’s name. Jungkook doesn’t ever brag about how his neurosurgeon dad is one of the best in the country and how his mom is a legend in cardiac surgery – even though sometimes, he could use it a little. He’s playful yet charming; quiet when you’re just knowing him, but he’ll eventually talk a lot when you get close.

As a friend, he’s quite the best you’ve ever had.

And even though you don’t really see him past that, you know in your heart that whoever ends up with him romantically will be a very lucky person.

“You’re a pussy.”

“Doyeon.”

Doyeon huffs, rolling her eyes so hard at Taehyung’s reprimand and then goes back to glaring at Jungkook again who just looks at her with a pathetic expression.

“What? I’m right. He’s a pussy and you’re an even bigger pussy for defending him being a pussy.” She says, furrowing her eyebrows angrily.

“Why are we talking about pussies?”

Nayeon suddenly enters the on-call room and Jungkook nearly has a heart attack.

“What the hell, you should at least knock. Jesus.” Jungkook says, clutching his chest, looking at Nayeon with an almost offended expression who closes the door behind her.

“Were you scared it was __? See!” Doyeon sighs out in frustration. “Such a fucking pussy.”

“Such a fucking pussy,” Jungkook mocks, using a higher pitch to imitate Doyeon poorly.

“And a child too.” She rolls her eyes and throws him a pillow. It misses Jungkook and hits Taehyung instead.

“Seriously, what are you so mad about today? You have that mood. Did you and your secret boyfriend fight?” Taehyung spits out.

Everybody stills in the room when Doyeon gives him a sharp glare. That pretty much makes everyone shut up, especially Taehyung who makes a show of physically zipping his mouth.

Nayeon fakes a cough and trudges towards Jungkook sitting on one of the beds. She throws her heavy hands on his shoulders, more like slaps, and then looks at Doyeon as she asks, “What are we calling this man a pussy for?”

“Oh, ask him. Or his dumber best friend.” Doyeon rolls his eyes and looks at Taehyung, crossing her arms and leaning her back on the chair she’s sitting on from across the room.

“You’re starting to hurt my feelings and I hate you.” Taehyung says from the other bed.

“Why?” Nayeon ignores their banter and furrows her brows at Jungkook curiously.

Jungkook hisses under his breath. “It’s nothing. She calls me a pussy for literally everything.”

Doyeon butts in. “Yeah, are you gonna cry?”

“If __ was here, she’s gonna be on my side, you know that?” Jungkook rebuts.

“If __ was here, you’d be panicking because she’ll know about your little secret.”

“Oof.” Taehyung comments.

“Oh, Jungkookie…” Nayeon looks down at him with worried eyes. When he looks up with a sad look, she starts rubbing his shoulders as some sort of comfort, already knowing about what this might be about. “This is about… the thing?”

He nods weakly. “Yes. And no. Uh, well, this is… you know about the birthday trip in the next five days, right? So, she asked me if she could bring, uh, Mingyu along.”

“Oh.” Nayeon utters, looking at Doyeon for confirmation.

Doyeon nods, and then nags, “Ask him what he said.”

Nayeon looks at him. “What did you say?”

“I said yes.”

“Oh.”

Jungkook looks down in slight shame at Nayeon’s reaction. She completely stops her hands’ ministrations on his shoulder, indicating that even she could not believe what he just did.

This makes Jungkook even feel worse.

Leaning his elbow on his thighs, he runs his fingers through his hair as he says, “I mean, how could I have said no? I would’ve looked like an asshole. Besides, Mingyu and I are college friends. There’s no reason for me to prohibit him from this trip. Like, at all.”

“Yeah, you and Mingyu are college friends but, ultimately, it’s our trip, right? __ would’ve understood if you said no.” Doyeon says, still not over her justification from a while ago.

“I know, I know. But still… I didn’t want to say no to her.” Jungkook tells Doyeon, not having a lot to say more than that.

It’s the plain truth, anyway. He truly, simply does not want to say no to you. Not ever.

“But Jungkook…” Nayeon interrupts. “Would it be okay for you? We know how you feel about the whole – er – Mingyu thing. Can you really take them being close together? Especially on a trip for your birthday?”

Though Nayeon’s voice is soft and her gaze gentle, her words hit him like a ton of bricks.

Truthfully, he doesn’t know what to feel about the whole thing. You dating Mingyu is one thing, but you bringing him along on your trips is another. It means that he’s it.

That you’re getting serious.

He hates himself for hating the idea. Jungkook’s always wanted to be nothing but supportive of you. He’d done it perfectly well with Eunwoo before, and your flings in the past four years have never upgraded past to being solely flings so he never worried about them, but now with Mingyu… it’s hard to pretend like it’s not killing him when you talk about how much you like him.

You have that lovestruck look on your face when Mingyu comes up in a conversation. For the first time in a while, you look genuinely happy. Jungkook always thought that your feelings for Eunwoo still lingered over the past few years – and how could it not, when you were literally engaged to him for a year? You told him one time that he may have been your greatest love… and he fears that it might be the same with Mingyu.

Where does that exactly leave him?

“What I think doesn’t really matter. And it’s just for week.” he murmurs, but the others hear it anyway.

“An excruciating week, you mean.” Doyeon says. She stands up from her chair. “You know what, I’m over this whole thing. I’ve witnessed you pine over her for whole eight years – and I’m just – I’m moving on from this. And I have a surgery. I’m going out.”

Jungkook grimaces when Doyeon heads towards the door.

“Doyeon, don’t be mean to Jungkook. He’s trying his best, you know? The timing is just not right and—”

“What timing?”

As soon as Doyeon twisted the doorknob, pulling the door open to completely head out, you came barging in, cutting off Nayeon’s words.

Her eyes widen a little at your sudden arrival. And Jungkook scrambles to think of an effort to swerve the subject, but Taehyung beats him to it.

“__, heyyy,” he prolongs the word quite unnaturally, chuckling at the end of it for no reason. Jungkook internally notes to tell him later never dare try to save anything ever again.

That makes you furrow your brows in confusion. Directing your look to Doyeon who stopped on her tracks, you ask her instead, “What’s going on? What about Jungkook trying his best?”

Doyeon looks at Jungkook and then you. You wait, but then she just rolls her eyes – just completely done about the whole thing. Like she said earlier.

“He’s trying his best not to be a pussy – well, allegedly.” At that, she goes out of the room, ignoring your calls to pull her back in.

“Uh… I think I have a surgery in twenty. See you guys around. Gotta scrub in.” Taehyung jumps from the other bed and Jungkook makes sure to extend his leg forward so that the older guy trips on it as he walks. “What the fuck, man.” Taehyung looks at him, offense written all over his face.

Jungkook gives him a glare. Taehyung chooses to ignore it rather than prolong it and walks past you at the door.

“Bye, fuckers.”

“Don’t call me a fucker!” Nayeon chimes in but Taehyung’s already out of the room.

“Hey, seriously! What was that?” You head towards the bed where Jungkook and Nayeon are, situating yourself on the far end of the bed to lean on the frame. You take off your sneakers in one swift move and lay your feet on Jungkook’s lap.

“It’s nothing. You know how Doyeon always bullies me…” Jungkook says, ignoring the tingling sensation that starts to creep up his spine at the way you casually initiate physical contact.

He needs to get a grip. You most probably don’t really mean anything by it.

“She does not bully you.” Nayeon rolls her eyes beside him.

“You probably deserve it.” you say, pulling out and eating some strawberry yogurt.

Nayeon laughs at your remark, but then it’s cut short when a pager suddenly beeps. Instantly, all of you take out your own and check if it was yours.

“Alright, that’s my call.”

“Bye. Good luck.” You say, offering your cup to Nayeon, but she only shakes her head. Meanwhile, Jungkook gives her a pair of thumbs up.

When Nayeon leaves the room, you nudge Jungkook with your foot.

“Hey,”

Jungkook looks at you with a brow raised.

“Can you rub my foot? Please rub my foot.” You say, making the best rendition of puppy face, extending your sock-cladded foot in his direction.

He scoffs. “Do you think I’m a pushover?”

You gasp dramatically. “I do not! I think you’re a cool person who’d totally give me foot rubs.”

“Unfortunately, I’m not a cool person who would give you foot rubs.”

You groan. “I gave you a massage weeks ago.”

“That was, like, two months ago.” Jungkook says drily.

“It counts because you didn’t do anything to repay me for my kindness.”

“Oh, you need your kindness paid back?” Jungkook teases, wiggling his eyebrows at you.

You pout at him and then whine. “Please, just three minutes, I swear. I’ll even put up a timer.”

Indeed, Jungkook is a pushover. Pushover to your cute pout and every request. Again, he could just not find it in himself to say no to you. Not even in his wildest dreams.

But it’s never not fun to tease you before he relents. “Fine. Two minutes.” He says, pretending to begrudge the thought of giving you a foot massage, even though inside, he’s quite thrilled to be doing so.

It would be a lie to say that it isn’t one of his favorite past times in the quiet evenings of your apartment. Jungkook loves the weight of your leg on his lap, loves the way you thank him in between groans, and loves that he just gets to be close to you in almost such an intimate way.

“Your feet stink.” Jungkook decides to tease, scrunching his nose, feigning disgust.

“Don’t lie. Also, your feet stink even more, don’t try me.”

“My feet do not stink.”

“Let’s just agree to disagree,” You grin. “I’m starting a timer.” You say, grabbing your phone, pressing some stuff on it before you put it on the mattress.

“Let me see, for all I know, you set it to five instead of three.”

You look at him with widen eyes, stiffening.

“It’s three minutes.”

“Your nostrils are flaring, you’re lying.”

You groan. “Please. Dinner is on me later.”

That obviously catches Jungkook’s attention.

“You’re staying at home for the night?”

You look at him weird. “Yeah, of course. What’s with that face?”

Jungkook shakes his head, hides a small smile as he looks down to your feet on his lap and takes a hold of one. He takes off your sock for you and begins massaging the tendons of your foot, noting the way you immediately lean back and relax.

“Nothing. I just thought you’d be staying at Mingyu’s again.”

“Ah,” you nod your head. When Mingyu's name is mentioned, you visibly frown. It’s the kind of face that you make when you’re deep in thought. “I was supposed to. But I don’t know… we fought this morning.”

Jungkook raises a brow. “You wanna talk about it?”

You shrug. “Not really. It’s a weird argument. I don’t know.”

He wants so badly to poke around and find out… but somehow, there’s something in him that tells him not to bother.

Anyway, you’re going home tonight so that’s all that matters. Jungkook begins to think about what to eat for dinner… he’d love to cook something, nevermind that he’s tired from his overnight shift yesterday. He also only got around four total hours of sleep in the past 48 hours, and that was not even consecutive hours – just the sum. That is why he was in the on-call rooms, until Taehyung suddenly barged in, followed by Doyeon, Nayeon, and then you.

“Oh– there, that’s so good, Jungkook,” you say after a particularly hard press against the ball of your heel.

Jungkook knows better than to let his mind wander upon hearing that from you. He’s massaging you, of course that was gonna be the natural reaction.

It’s also quite pathetic to be even thinking about it in the first place – considering that your mind might most likely be weighed by yours and Mingyu’s argument – your boyfriend.

“Hey, about what I said a few days ago,” you started to speak again, breaking the momentary silence. Jungkook hums to acknowledge you. “I know you said yes to me bringing Mingyu along, but, uh, I’m not sure if he still plans to.”

“Ah,” Jungkook nods. Was the argument that bad? “Okay.”

“Yeah. He has to fly over to Arizona for something that week. Told me he may be able to arrive and join us on the second day, which is the exact date of your birthday, but honestly, I’m not sure. His sched changes a lot.”

Deep down, Jungkook wishes Mingyu just opts out of joining in altogether.

But he doesn’t have to tell you that.

“That’s a shame.” he comments, not really meaning it. He massages your other foot with ginger hands, which has you letting out soft sighs again. Jungkook buries them in the back of his head, lest his mind goes to territories that are absolutely humiliating.

“I know…” you trail off. You look like you have more to say as well, but then the door to the room opens. Again.

“Forgot my pager.” Doyeon announces, crossing the room with quick steps to reach for the forgotten thing she left on the table.

When Doyeon’s gaze falls back to the both of you, she raises a brow, and then her eyes direct their way towards Jungkook’s hands on your foot.

You’re about to say something when Doyeon rolls his eyes at Jungkook. Then, without giving you the opportunity to speak, she heads out of the room quickly, leaving Jungkook to look in another direction in quiet shame.

“What was that?” You comment, confused at what just happened.

“Eh, she’s in a sour mood today. It’s regular Doyeon.” Shrugs Jungkook, trying to swerve the subject.

You pout. “Are you two fighting again for real?”

Jungkook chuckles. “No, it’s not serious. You know how Doyeon and I get.”

You squint your eyes, but say nothing nonetheless.

Meanwhile, Jungkook hisses internally.

Jungkook gets Doyeon. You all have been friends since freshman year of med school – the founder of your study group – and she was also the first one to find out about Jungkook’s little crush. He didn’t even have to say it explicitly, she just knew. Eventually, Jungkook told Taehyung. He has quite a big mouth, unfortunately, so when you started your internship at the hospital – he lets it slip in a conversation with Nayeon who was just becoming your friend that time – leading the situation to where it is right now.

Out of all of them, though, Doyeon got it pretty hard. She’s witnessed the early stages of Jungkook’s infatuation towards you in the first semester of med school, had to keep quiet during study sessions. She was even supportive that time, telling Jungkook to just go for it – but then Eunwoo happened, and the confession never saw the light of day.

When they broke up, Doyeon became hopeful again, just as Jungkook was. But you were showing no signs of moving on and Jungkook had no choice but to step back for a bit.

The past two years, though, Doyeon became more insistent, telling him you’re single and it’s the fattest chance Jungkook can ever get.

But she’s right, after all. Jungkook’s a pussy. He hides his feelings well – a pro at the sport, really, at this point.

When Mingyu happened a few months ago, Doyeon’s just over it. She told Jungkook one time in a drinking session that the ship has sunk and he’s going to be in his sixties regretting not ever confessing to you. Sometimes, he wakes up at night in sweat from a nightmare that involved Doyeon murdering him because of his emotional constipation.

Jungkook knows she just wants the best for him – even though she’s more on showing him tough love instead of a gentle one. Doyeon’s always been like that, but she’s a good friend. When things went haywire, she was there to genuinely sympathize with him and console him – together with Taehyung and some of his other friends.

But in Jungkook’s defense, Doyeon just also doesn’t get it.

It’s so easy to just say fuck it and make a confession already, so easy to think about how things could turn positively – but she’s not – they’re not – in Jungkook’s shoes. They will never be.

So many things could go wrong if he ever were to listen to his heart. Sure, he’s had the chance over the past four years – most would say that. But it’s not a chance when you’ve spent half of it moving on from Eunwoo. It’s not a chance when you spent the other half trying to go on dates and fail – each one making you more miserable about your love life, as you told him so many nights ago in those rare special moments in the balcony of your apartment.

Those four years you were single was never a chance – not when you never showed any bit of interest.

It’s the reality that his friends always somehow miss when encouraging him to confess his feelings.

You’re friends for almost a decade now – eight years to be exact – but not once did you ever hint at wanting to be in a relationship with him. Your reaction to that always involved a disgusted expression and a variation of “No way!”. Might be a joke just to tease him – but also might be rooted in something genuine deep down.

Jungkook likes to think that physically, he doesn’t look so bad. He’s nice when he wants to be, especially towards people he cares about. He’s a resident surgeon who makes enough. Could be funny, charming… whatever.

Most of all, he likes to think he could deserve you one of these days. That he could be the man that you’re searching for.

But it’s been eight years and you’ve never once looked at him like how he surely does at you.

God knows how many times Jungkook has tried to move on – how many sleepless nights he has trying to erase the feeling of so much longing for you. Sometimes, it works, when he’s on his casual dates and hook-up with all those women that thankfully fancied him enough. He momentarily forgets about your laugh and your hair and the crinkles on the sides of your eyes when you smile and your soft hands and your gentle voice – but it cracks when the sex is done and he’s staring at the blank ceiling of his date’s apartment, hating himself for yet again seeing your picture in his memory when he’s buried in somebody else, wishing it was you instead.

It hurts so badly. Especially when you seem to look at everybody else except him. You wanted to weed out someone for you – meanwhile, he’s just right under your nose, and yet you don’t see him. It’s at this point, when you have Mingyu as your boyfriend now, that Jungkook is starting to realize that you don’t see him not because you can’t, but because you choose not to.

Regardless, he knows you love him. Knows you care about him on a deeper level. Would probably sacrifice a bit of your time to tend to him if he needs it. But it’s the kind of love that’s not comparable to the one he has for you. Jungkook’s feelings encompass every single kind of love a human could have for another being – but you only have one kind for him. The platonic kind.

And even though it’s painful to face the reality of that very idea, Jungkook thinks that maybe… just maybe… Mingyu’s actually it.

Mingyu wasn’t exactly a saint the last time Jungkook saw him, but people change and the way you seem so genuinely happy these days tells Jungkook that maybe Mingyu’s another version of himself now – the better one who will never hurt you or make you cry.

Maybe this is what love’s all about. You’re content with seeing them happy, even if it’s not with you.

Jungkook thinks that as he steals a glance at you looking at your phone – most probably playing that landlord game on your phone you’ve been obsessed with the past few weeks – and you’re so beautiful like this. Even when you’re probably running on limited hours of sleep just like him.

Your hair is put up in that tulip hairclip you have a lot of, stray hairs framing some parts of your face. But he sees your features just fine – notes the way they are structured so perfectly it truly awes him that men and women didn’t beg for your attention whenever you went out in public.

Because he would. He did. He does. He always teases you for the purpose of your reaction… because Jungkook likes it when you pay attention to him. So much that it kills him to think that maybe, that attention will die soon as you and Mingyu get closer as another week passes by.

The timer that goes off on your phone snaps Jungkook out of his thoughts, and you look at him with widened eyes.

“Don’t st–”

“It’s my turn now,” Jungkook cuts you off and gently places your legs on the mattress, bringing his own on the soft surface as well.

You jut your bottom lip out – and Jungkook feels himself wanting to give in.

“Five minutes is so quick.” You say, but nonetheless takes his shin to your lap.

Jungkook tries hard to sway the butterflies in his stomach at your touch.

“Favor for a favor, remember?” He teases, lifting one of his foot to your direction.

You pretend to gag. “I hate you.”

Jungkook laughs, quite boisterously. Because he knows you don’t mean it. I hate you basically just means I love you but you’re annoying me right now in your own little dictionary – and he always gets giddy whenever you tell him that – as weird as it may sound.

But Jungkook likes this, though.

Sure, it would be so fucking great if he could just confess and lay out his cards all at once, but the chances of you not taking it well is too big – and even though Jungkook’s usually a risk taker, he couldn’t ever risk you all over his dead body.

He can keep his hurt to himself over you feeling anything but romantic towards him – because if he confesses and you don’t feel the same way, he knows damn well that he’ll lose you completely.

And the thought makes him shudder.

That probably catches your sight, so you ask him about it.

Jungkook tells you it’s the AC.

[ DAY 1 | August 31st, 11:04am ]

The beating sun feels uncomfortable on Jungkook’s skin, but there’s no way he’s wasting a day like this holed up in the villa he and his friends chipped in to rent. It costed you all a shit ton of money – might as well enjoy every waking day he gets to spend here.

It’s why he decides to goad Taehyung and Nayeon into coming with him along the shore where sun loungers are lined up to accommodate the few visitors who were also at the resort. He tried to convince Doyeon, but she goes straight to sleep as soon as the rooms were assigned.

He gets it – you all did travel by plane instead of car (because that would've taken you twelve hours) and Doyeon gets airsick whenever she rides in a plane. Jungkook also tried to talk you into it, but you said you were just going to lounge about by the pool at the villa and follow after a while.

Your “after awhile” takes about thirty minutes, and Jungkook thinks you’re missing all the fun, especially when Nayeon and Taehyung are starting to strip off their clothes to submerge themselves in the ocean.

With his loaded watergun, he goes straight back to the villa, and it doesn’t take much time to spot you by the terrace, lying down on a sun lounger with your big hat and sunglasses on, a book opened in your hands.

Unsuspecting, you let out a sudden squeal when Jungkook presses the trigger of the toy in his grip, a spring of water meeting your bare legs. Jungkook obviously tries hard to ignore that you’re wearing a flimsy pair of white bikinis. He saw you pack it two days ago… and he remembers taking too long to move on from the image he’s conjured up in his head upon seeing it.

“Jungkook!”

He chuckles at your reaction, poorly hiding the watergun behind him. “What?”

“I’ll kill you.” You seethe, your body coming forward to sit upright, hastily taking your sunnies off so he can see the cute glare on your face.

“What are you going to do? I have this,” He points to his weapon. “Are you challenging me into a hand-to-hand combat?” Jungkook teases, wiggling his eyebrow.

You groan. Then, you lay back on the lounger again, opening your book, deciding to ignore him.

Jungkook can’t have that, of course. So, he walks closer to your direction, stopping beside you, effectively blocking the sun and in turn, dimming the light source of your book.

“You’re blocking my sun.” You say, looking up at him.

“You’ll get all the sun you want if you haul your ass off to the shore. Come on, we’re all swimming in there,” he tries to convince you, nudging your thigh with his knee.

You give him a pout. You sound whiny when you say, “But it’s too hot.”

“That’s why we’ll get in the water.”

“Don’t be sassy.” You roll your eyes. “I meant the water would be way too hot.”

“It’s not, Nayeon said so.”

You glance at the pool across from you. “Why can’t we all just swim in here?”

Jungkook deadpans. “Because this is a five-foot pool and absolutely no one will enjoy it.”

You frown at him, quietly telling Jungkook he’s right.

“Ugh,” you groan. “But I’ll have to reapply SPF first…” You grab the bottle of lotion that’s just placed on the small table on the side of the lounger. Then you look at him with squinted eyes, “Did you wear sunscreen?”

Jungkook rolls his eyes but nonetheless says yes, knowing how you always nag him about it whenever you guys are at the beach. It’s not even just him. It’s also with your other friends.

He watches as you rub lotion over your body, but when you get to the back, you look up at him and extend the bottle towards his way.

“Can you help me with this, please?” You say.

Jungkook automatically takes the bottle but it takes him a full five seconds to understand what you’re getting at.

You’re asking him to put sunscreen on your back. You’re very naked back that sports nothing but the tiny strings of your bikini holding your chest.

Of course, you don’t notice his dilemma. Twisting in your seat so that your back faces him, you gather your hair to the side, obviously waiting for him to do your request.

But Jungkook’s distracted behind your back. He’s distracted at how smooth it looks under the scorching sun and how easy it would be to paint it with something other than the natural color of your skin.

It’s not even the first time he’ll do this – you’ve been to trips before and putting on sunscreen over your friend is about as natural as it gets like how he would do it as well to Taehyung or even Doyeon or Nayeon if they ask to.

But it doesn’t mean it doesn’t affect him one bit when it comes to you.

Needless to say, his mind is pre-occupied as he sits down behind you where you left some space for him to sit, squirting the lotion into the palms of his hands, gingerly spreading it over your back once he got it.

“Be sure to cover everything,” you say, obviously not aware about Jungkook’s mental crisis behind your back.

He thinks it’s worth the crisis over though, as you’re so soft under his touch. Jungkook kneads the span of your back, squeezes your waist lightly to even out the cream, and makes sure to put it over your shoulders as well. When his hands fall, he hesitates.

“Should I – uh—”

“Yeah, just go under the strings.” You tell him before he can even finish.

There’s a lump in his throat that he swallows before he goes under the strings of your bikini top, his heart doing funny somersaults against his ribcage as he spreads the lotion over your skin. It guilts him to no end that his mind thinks about how he’s just inches away from your breasts.

He retreats his hand right away. “Done.”

You turn back to him. “Thanks. You want me to do yours?”

“Sure.”

Jungkook sits on the edge of the lounger and lets his back turn to you. He hears the cap of the lotion bottle being opened again and soon your hands are lathering the cream over the expanse of his back.

It’s embarrassing the way he lets himself savor the seconds of your every touch. Embarrassing the way his mind zeroes in on the way your soft hands caress the tendons of his back muscles. He thinks about the weight, how good this feels; your hands on him. Suddenly, there’s a zap of electricity that goes through his spine, and then he feels it.

The twitch in his dick and the blood that he feels rushing to it.

“Okay, you’re done.” You say, tapping his back twice so he can turn to you.

It snaps him out of his thoughts, but his dick is thinking about something else and as he subtly looks down, there’s already a growing semi on the crotch of his trunk shorts.

Jungkook curses himself internally, shutting his eyes close in slight frustration.

Fucking uncooperative dick.

He stands up from the chair when you nudge his back with your foot, thinking that he’d see you coming along in a few seconds. But you don’t, and as he turns his heel to look at you, you’re back in your cozy lying position on the lounger, with your book opened, just like how he saw you when he came in a while ago.

Jungkook parts his lips in disbelief, but also finding the whole thing funny.

“You minx.” He muses, playfully squinting his eyes at you upon realizing the trick you just pulled.

“Enjoy the beach, Jungkook. Send my regards to Taehyung and Nayeon.” You say, giving him a taunting flying kiss. “And thank you for reapplying my sunscreen.”

Jungkook chuckles at your remark, and just like that, he forgets about his stubborn dick, and goes over back to you, blocking your sun once again.

“You’re blocking my sun again— Jungkook!”

It’s predictable the way you hurl a series of creative curses at him as Jungkook forcefully picks you up from the chair, knocking your hat and your book on the ground as he hoists you against his shoulder, carrying you upside down like a sack of potatoes.

“Jungkook, I swear to god!” You squeal, repeatedly slapping his back as he walks to the direction of the shore, but Jungkook’s nothing but a solid muscle, firm over his hold on the back of your legs.

“Be quiet.” He says, chuckling at your sounds of opposition.

“I hate you, you’re such a prick, ugh!”

He picks up his walking pace and you scream again when you see the ocean water from your view.

Jungkook chuckles as you continue to plant your fists on his back, and when the water reaches his knees, he throws you in it.

“Fuck. You!” You say, glaring at Jungkook in the middle of his uncontrollable laughter.

“Come on, Taehyung and Nayeon are over there,” he points to the deeper part of the ocean a few feet from where you are, and when you turn your head, you see Taehyung and Nayeon with their floaties.

“Ugh…” Jungkook hears you groan before you follow behind him. When Jungkook looks back, he sees you paddling around the water like some puppy, and he snickers to himself. That earns him a splash on his way, with you rolling your eyes at him.

“Jungkook! __!” Yells Nayeon over their direction, waving her hand around. Taehyung and her are perched on the big floatie they fought over with at the villa earlier.

“Jungkook,” calls you behind him.

You’re starting to cross the deeper part of the ocean and it’s within Jungkook’s chest now. Meanwhile, your friends are still about a few feet away, so the level would definitely be on his neck by the time. You’re considerably tall, but Jungkook’s still half a head taller than you, so when he looks back at you, the water’s already reached your shoulders.

“This is way too deep!” You complain.

“Don’t be a pussy, __!” Comments Taehyung from afar.

“Fuck off,” you murmur and then beckons Jungkook to you. “Help me a bit here.”

Jungkook shakes his head, chuckling as he moves a few steps back to get to your direction.

“You big baby, you never learned how to swim, have you?” He teases, playfully clicking his tongue.

“What for?” You say when he gets near.

Jungkook feels pleased with himself about you asking for his help to cross the deeper part of the ocean, but he’s met with surprise when you heavily plant your palms on his shoulders, causing him to be out of balance and tripping over his feet under the water.

It causes a misstep and he nearly chokes as he comes back up for air again only to see you laughing your ass off. Nayeon and Taehyung are also laughing along, even from afar, and Jungkook wipes the back of his hand over his eyes to see clearly.

“That’s for throwing me in the water earlier,” you say in between your snickers and Jungkook’s just about to say something back when you suddenly wrap your hands around his neck from the back, your legs locking around his waist. “Carry me to the floatie, pretty please,” you say against his cheek in a sing-song voice.

With that, Jungkook feels your whole entire body against his back, your breasts pressing against his skin. He ignores the way the physical contact makes his body tingle, and he hopes you don’t notice his blush when he raises his arms to hold the back of your legs.

“Only because you’re annoying.” He pretends to sound annoyed, but the laugh that comes out of you at the remark makes him smile anyway.

[ DAY 1 | August 31st, 11:35pm ]

Your daytime activities at the beach included jetskiing – one that knocked Taehyung off the water way too many times that he just gave up halfway through it. When Doyeon woke up a little later in the afternoon, all of you decided to get food from the dining hall and ate your hearts out at the buffet.

The day ended with all of you back in your assigned rooms again. Since you rented a two-bedroom villa, Jungkook’s rooming with Taehyung in the secondary bedroom while Nayeon, Doyeon, and you are all inside the primary one since it’s bigger.

It’s past thirty minutes to eleven in the night when somebody knocks on Jungkook’s shared bedroom with Taehyung. When Jungkook looks at him from across the room, he’s knocked out on the sofa, soft snores coming out from his mouth. Him and Jungkook decided to take turns with the bed itself throughout the whole vacation. There’s an extra cushion Taehyung could’ve laid on the floor, but he was way too tired to set it up and to even care – looks like he doesn’t really need it, though, since he looks so peaceful in his position.

Grumbling, Jungkook gets out from the sheets, scratching his bare chest and rubbing the back of his head as he walks over to the door to open it.

When he does, he’s welcomed by the sight of you in your big grey hoodie and some shorts.

“Wear something.” You say as soon as you take in his appearance.

Jungkook’s habit of going to sleep with only his boxers knows no bounds. Even when it’s below 20 degrees Celsius outside, he always opts out of his pajamas, choosing to go bare in his sheets instead. In his defense for now, the duvet is thick and it provided him with enough protection against the cold of the AC and the summer night.

“What are you doing here?” He says as he trudges back inside the room to wear a pair of sweatpants hanging from the chair.

“Rude.” You comment, following him in the room. You look at Taehyung’s passed out state in the couch. “He’s going to wake up in the evening tomorrow and miss your birthday.”

That makes Jungkook smirk, remembering Taehyung’s high energy in the morning.

“No consequences. It’s vacation week.” Jungkook raises his eyebrows. “Seriously, what brought you here? It’s almost midnight.”

You sit on the edge of the bed. That’s when Jungkook notices the black plastic you’re carrying in your hand. “It’s not that late. Let’s head out for a bit.”

He raises a brow, confused. “Where to?”

“You’re going to find out. Wear a jacket, it’s a bit cold outside.” You say as you stand up from the bed again, heading for the door.

Jungkook’s confusion just grows with passing seconds. Nonetheless, he can’t say he’s not intrigued.

Unsure, he goes for his small luggage and takes out the only hoodie he packed. It’s grey as well, matching the one you have on. Jungkook tries to shake that thought off his head as you both quietly head out of the room.

It’s late into the night and when you head out of the villa, there’s not many people hanging along the shore anymore.

“Follow me,” you tell him, and Jungkook does.

It may have been his drowsiness that kept him quiet throughout the whole walk – just quietly following along with you, your rented villa no longer in his line of sight. Jungkook couldn’t exactly pinpoint where you currently are, but this side of the beach is a bit rocky, and much, much colder. He feels it even through the thick material of his hoodie.

“We’re here.” You announce, a proud lilt to your voice. Jungkook bumps with your back when you suddenly stop on your tracks. It prompts a chuckle from you, turning back to him so Jungkook sees the crinkles on the sides of your eyes as you do so.

It makes his lips curl. “What’s this?” He curiously asks, looking around.

Your grin grows wider. “We’re gonna take those stairs and it’s gonna lead us to some pretty view.” Jungkook looks to the direction you pointed at, seeing the stairs you just referred to. Still unsure, he glances back at you. You laugh. “You remember when Doyeon and I went out for a walk earlier for a bit? We found this place.”

Jungkook nods. “I see. Thought for a second there you found a place to dispose my body at.”

You snort as you take Jungkook’s wrist to hold on to as you climb to the stairs.

“I won’t do it as such a public place.”

“So, you really are thinking about it in the first place.” Jungkook nods his head, guiding your back up the jagged stairs. You manage to get to the smoother surface and Jungkook’s quick to follow you towards the straight path of the narrow walkway.

“It’s my favorite past time, really.” You look back at him cheekily, a playful grin painting your lips. Jungkook scoffs.

The hallway is colonnaded with some flags, and there’s an edge where the concrete stops, the ocean water splashing against the big rocks beneath the broken bridge.

You set aside the black plastic you’ve been carrying around and Jungkook realizes they’re Smirnoffs. Sitting on the concrete, you let your feet hang on the edge.

“Hey, be careful,” Jungkook comments as he sees you do that. This part of the ocean isn’t necessarily far – where you were earlier when you were swimming was far deeper, but still, it could be dangerous if you make a mistake. Jungkook wonders what the designers of the beach thought about when they made this plan.

“Come on, don’t be fussy. Sit here with me.” You say, patting the space beside you.

Jungkook follows, of course, and you scoot to the side a little to give him more room.

“It’s nice, right,” You look at him, cocking your head to the side.

Jungkook feels the breeze of cool wind passing, and it’s a bit strong that it moves his fringes and yours as well. You put your hair up as usual in that big metal clip you always wear, but some strands of your hair escape and they frame your face.

With your big hoodie on and smile, Jungkook thinks you look extra cozy. He may have been hot and bothered by your bikini ensemble earlier, but now he’s bothered for another reason. He can’t stop thinking about cuddling you under the night sky full of stars at the very moment.

“Feels good.” Jungkook comments. He plants his palms on the hard surface of the concrete behind him, leaning back as he looks to your side. “You wanted to drink here?”

“Oh, yeah,” You say, twisting your body a little to pick up the plastic cellophane. You take out two bottles of Smirnoffs and offer one to him which he gladly takes. Taking a bottle opener out, you’re about to open your drinks when Jungkook offers to do it for the both of you. You don’t protest, just let him do his thing, smiling when he hands you your Smirnoff.

“This is really nice.” Jungkook sighs after he takes the first sip, looking straight ahead to the mountainous view in front of you.

You hum, seemingly enjoying the moment as well. Jungkook takes a quick glance at your side profile and then quickly looks back ahead when he feels you do the same.

“Why’d you bring me here?” He asks.

“Nothing. I couldn’t sleep, and I thought I could bring you here. So.” You shrug.

Jungkook nods.

“I’m turning thirty-one tomorrow. Or, in an hour, actually.” He says, automatically looking at his wrist but then realizing he took off his watch and left it at the bedside table. He didn’t take his phone with him either.

“I know. You’re so old now.” You tell him with a teasing tone in your words.

“Fuck off,” he snorts. “I’m only a year older than you.”

“Hmm… still old. Imagine, you turn fifty, I would still be forty-nine.”

Jungkook laughs at that.

“Whatever makes you sleep at night, babe.” He lets the pet name slip, and he did not mean to. It just rolled off his tongue for some reason. Quite easily, too.

You don’t seem to care – or even notice – as you chuckle.

There’s a comfortable silence that hangs in the air again when Jungkook decides to break it.

“Hey, I really appreciate you for coming along. You and the gang, really. This is a really good trip so far.”

You give him a smile as you look at him. It’s one of those pretty ones that are a bit small but there’s a certain shine to your eyes and Jungkook just really loves looking at you with a smile on your face. You’re so pretty, he thinks he’s so lucky to even get the chance to look at you.

“You know we all need this trip, right? I think it’s all our first time vacationing in two years.”

He nods, chuckling to himself. It’s true. The last time was the Thailand trip and it felt like eons ago. Being a resident surgeon means less free time for leisure – and so you always make sure to spend your days off wisely. Even this trip took a lot of pre-planning to be possible just so all of your schedules would match.

“It’s crazy, though…” you say suddenly.

Jungkook cocks a brow at you. “What’s crazy?”

“That we’ve known each other for like – what? Eight years?”

Eight years and four months to be exact. Jungkook’s not keeping count – he just will never forget the exact moment he met you for the very first time.

It’s truly one of his core memories – knowing you. He remembers having to pass by the law library to meet Jimin – one of his closest friends who was studying law at the same grad school as him at the time. They were planning to eat out for lunch, but then he saw a woman at the individual study areas with a reading material that’s familiar with his. Netter’s Atlas of Human Anatomy. You wore that maroon hairclip you loved so much during first year (Jungkook remembers you losing it in the second semester and how he bought you another one in your birthday), and when you looked up from your book for awhile, taking a break from taking notes on your iPad, that was when Jungkook saw your face and he nearly falls over back then.

It’s common knowledge among your mutual friends and acquaintances that you’re pretty. It’s the first thing that Jungkook noticed about you, the reason why he harbored an instant crush. That pretty much turned into… well – something deeper as the years passed by and he got to know you more than just your beautiful physical appearance.

He found it strange at the time to find somebody who was obviously a med student studying at the law library, but he soon found out it was because you didn’t like studying at the med lib, said you felt too much pressure being among your fellow med students. Jungkook understood that in a spiritual level, and so when you became friends, you studied a lot at the law lib, until you met Doyeon and she formed a study group. It wasn’t long before Taehyung joined the equation.

Looking back at it, Jungkook thinks it’s surreal. How knowing you led to him knowing more people that would soon be important in his life up until the age of thirty-one.

“Almost a decade.” He says, can’t help but smile at the thought.

“Right? It feels so surreal sometimes that we all knew each other at, like, twenty-three and twenty two. And now we’re in our thirties.”

“When you put it like that…” Jungkook trails off, laughing at how young you actually were eight years ago.

“Yeah, I know!” You giggle. You look ahead, then you laugh again to yourself. Jungkook looks at you in confusion, giving you a questioning look at your sudden burst of laughter. Looking at him, you shake your head, “This is a bit of a TMI, but I was twenty-two when I entered med school, so I just lost my virginity three years ago. You know what’s funny? I’ve always thought I would lose my virginity, at like, thirty. Or twenty-seven. But that was even way too early for me.”

Jungkook almost splutters at the way you casually bring it up. He takes the bottle of Smirnoff away from him and looks at you with a chuckle. “Losing your virginity at nineteen is common.”

“Well, did you? Lose yours at nineteen?” You arch a brow.

“Nope.” Jungkook shakes his head, tipping his head back to drink again.

“Younger?” You ask again.

Jungkook chuckles at your curiosity. Much to your surprise, he shakes his head again. “Nah. Junior year. I just turned twenty-one. Lost it with my first girlfriend.”

Your lips part and Jungkook meets your shocked stare, brow cocked upwards.

“You’re fucking with me.”

“What? No, I’m not.” He laughs. He gets your surprise, though. Taehyung couldn’t believe it either when it came up in a random conversation.

You still look incredulous as you say, “You mean, like you never dated until junior year of undergrad?”

Jungkook shakes his head once again. “Yes, and no…? I mean, I had a… sort of girlfriend? Back in highschool, yeah, but it was more of like a mutual crush thing rather than an official relationship. But yeah, never dated and never had sex ‘til I found my first girlfriend in third year.”

You look at him suspiciously still, and Jungkook can’t help but laugh even more at your reaction.

“I really don’t believe you.”

“What’s so surprising about that?” Jungkook knows the answer, though. He sleeps around, and you know that. It’s probably why you can’t believe he’s only started having sex until third year of college.

You’re quiet for a bit.

“So… you and that girlfriend broke up, and then…” you trail off, letting him finish the pieces.

Jungkook chuckles, recalling some memories that he thought were already hidden well at the back of his head.

Jiyeon. Her name was Park Jiyeon, his first girlfriend. He was the one who ended things – and not because he didn’t have feelings for her. It was the other way around.

“Yeah,” Jungkook fills in. “Didn’t date seriously after that.”

“Uh… was it a bad break-up?” You say, and there’s hesitance in your voice. When Jungkook looks at you, you open your mouth to take your question back, probably, but Jungkook just gives you a warm smile.

“Yeah. It was bad. But I don’t really think about it now.”

You nod. “I see.” You say, looking ahead at the ocean again. “You dated… quite seriously again in our last year of med school, though.”

“Sora?”

“Yeah.”

Jungkook nods, remembering the only one-year relationship he had. Min Sora was a fashion magazine director at the time. Jungkook liked her as she did, but they had too many differences that lead to too many arguments. Sora ended things before the relationship dragged out. Jungkook was grateful for it. They’re casual as of now… good friends, maybe?

“I always wondered why she broke up with you.” You say quietly.

Jungkook doesn’t expect that. “You wondered about that?”

“Yeah. I mean, you seemed like you were both really into each other, so I just thought… you know,” you shrug.

“Ah. That,” Jungkook looks afar, recalling the day when she ended things with him. It had been because of the stress that the last year of med school brought – he likes to think that. But it was also during the time when Eunwoo proposed to you and what he thought was feelings forgotten for you came back resurfacing and Sora just… figured him out. She told him he loved you, and she’s got no spare time to compete with that. Denying it at the time was futile – Sora was smart. A wise, independent woman. She ended the relationship herself before she got deeply hurt. Jungkook has always felt sorry about how things turned out. No, he doesn’t regret the break-up – just regrets the way he hurt her – unintentionally – even though she didn’t show it.  “Just didn’t work out, I guess.”

You nod again.

Silence sits in the air.

It feels a little strange to talk about these things now. It’s not that you both never share these aspects about your lives to each other, but it’s the first time you ask him about Sora. He never really bothered to share, though, for the record.

From his periphery, he sees you taking your phone out from your pocket, then gasping.

Jungkook immediately looks at you to see what’s wrong. You show him your phone and he notes nothing of significance first before you say, “It’s 12:01 am. It’s September first!”

“Oh.”

“Happy birthday, Kook.” You say, smiling at him, and it’s an underestimation for Jungkook to say he nearly gets blinded by it. You look so gorgeous in your happy smile, so genuine, so warm, so cozy in your big grey hoodie.

Jungkook wants so bad to plant his lips on yours right then and there, but he reminds himself that he can’t do that. He reminds himself that you’re taken. That you like somebody else. The somebody else arriving tomorrow, as per your words earlier this day when he asked about Mingyu.

Still, it doesn’t stop Jungkook from mirroring your smile.

“Thank you.”

“And, before I forget,” you stuff your hands in the pocket of your hoodie and Jungkook watches as you take out a small rectangular box. As he pays you a glance, you’re a little bit shy, not looking straight into his eyes as you say, “Uh. I saw this somewhere, and I thought you’d like it.”

You extend your hand to him and Jungkook lets go of his beer to take the velvety green box from you.

He feels jittery as he takes it in, caresses the ribbon first before opening it altogether.

What’s inside surprises him.

“It didn’t cost much so don’t throw it away,” you say, uncharacteristically defensive. Jungkook can’t see your expression, but he bets your thoughts are going haywire as it takes him awhile to say anything about your gift. You always get nervous when it comes to gifts. “... and anyway, it’s not even my real gift. My real gift is a hairdryer, so I’m sure you’re gonna like that better. But it’s cute, right? You can hang it in your keyholder or something—”

“__,” Jungkook cuts you off, his eyes still on the keyring laying on the box. “You’re giving this to me?”

“Y-yeah. It’s… uh… cute, right? I thought it was cute.” You say, and when Jungkook looks at you, he sees the adorable way your brows furrow.

He chuckles, looking at the keyring again. It’s a silver Claddagh.

“Do you know what this means?” Jungkook asks.

“The what?”

Jungkook points to the Claddagh. “This symbol.”

You look away as you say, “No, not really. I just thought it’s a cool keychain. You told me you like keychains, but I don’t ever see you with a keychain. So.”

With your nostrils flaring a little, he knows you’re lying. You definitely know what the Claddagh symbol means.

But instead of goading you about it, Jungkook takes the keyring out of the box and hangs it over his finger, admiring the item.

“Thank you. This is really cute, and I love it.” Jungkook tells you, giving you a soft smile.

You stare at him and then cave into a smile of your own. “I’m glad you do.”

Jungkook looks at the Claddagh again and smiles heartily.

His heart aches with so much yearning and longing when you go back to the villa that night, spending about three minutes staring at the Claddagh you gifted him that he immediately hangs in his key holder. Jungkook thinks he’s going to transfer it to his work bag or the back of his rearview mirror, but his keyholder would do for now.

You love him alright, certainly not the way he does, but it’s enough for him.

[ DAY 2 | September 1st, 11:55pm ]

It was not a secret among Nayeon, Doyeon, and Taehyung that Jungkook’s mood considerably plummeted down as soon as Mingyu called you early in the morning that he’d be landing in the afternoon.

Afternoon came, and he tried to suck it up like a grown man – and because as far as you know, they’re both friends. And Mingyu’s your boyfriend. He should be nothing but supportive.

But it was especially hard when you gushed about being excited that he was finally here. It’s been four months since you started seeing each other, two months since you officially dated, but somehow, Jungkook still could not process it.

He knows he’s being unfair. To you and to himself. But he couldn’t help it. He couldn’t help the feeling of ugly bitterness that sat in his heart as you told him about how Mingyu rented another villa so you both could room together, effectively taking you away from the rest of your friends.

Of course, you all spent his birthday together – doing tons of water activities in the ocean, eating at the dining hall, and roaming around for some more leisure time, but Jungkook could not help but think that ever since Mingyu’s arrived, you’ve been sticking with him, even taking the time away from the gang to show your boyfriend around the resort.

Even at the villa’s porch where all of you took out your foldable chairs to drink outside, you were with Mingyu, perched on his lap, laughing at the jokes getting thrown around in the circle.

He tried not to look too much at how Mingyu comfortably wrapped one arm around your waist while the other held a drink, how you leaned into his touch, and how easily he blended with the group with his charm.

“Where’d you get the ice cream?” Doyeon asked as Taehyung sat down on his chair with a small bowl of the sweet treat.

“Fridge. Nayeon and I bought it earlier.”

“There’s ice cream?” Mingyu asked, in which Taehyung nodded to. He turned to you. “Do you want it?”

Jungkook’s brows furrowed in confusion. “__’s lactose intolerant.” He noticed everybody suddenly looking at him. Feeling cornered, he drank from his beer to avoid their gazes.

Mingyu, obviously surprised by the declaration, glanced back at you. “Baby, you didn’t tell me that?”

You winced. “It’s not really a big deal.” you waved him off and when you laugh.

“Yeah, she’s stubborn about it. She can inhale five cones in one sitting.” Taehyung said which made everybody laugh. Jungkook knew it was to lighten the mood. So, he laughed as well, even though from his periphery, he could see you giving him daggers through your eyes.

Jungkook doesn’t know why you had to pretend it wasn’t a big deal. Sure, Taehyung’s right about you not taking your lactose intolerance seriously sometimes, but you’ve also gotten into a lot of trouble because of it, hence why you’ve been making conscious efforts to not eat dairy.

The whole day leaves a sour impression on him with Mingyu around. Quite a shame, really, since he started his birthday so well with you taking him to the far-end of the beach to drink and give him a Claddagh.

When the night becomes much darker, Jungkook sits on the terrace near the pool all by himself. Everybody’s fast asleep at this point. He doesn’t know about you, though, ‘cause you’ve probably transferred all your stuff to the other villa Mingyu rented around.

“Hey,”

Jungkook looks at the embodied voice that suddenly calls. He sees it’s Doyeon.

“Hey,” Jungkook smiles, taking the other bottle of beer on the coffee table and offering it to her.

She waves his hand. “Nah, I’ve had enough for the whole day.” Doyeon situates herself on the folding chair next to Jungkook.

Jungkook nods, looking straight ahead to the pool. They sit in comfortable silence for a while until Doyeon speaks.

“Hey, I’m sorry for the last week,”

Jungkook glances at her with a small smile. “What for?”

“For calling you a pussy. And just… being harsh. Had a tough week and your emotional constipation just pissed me off more. You’re still a pussy, but I shouldn’t have rubbed it off your face.” She says.

Jungkook stares at her with parted lips.

“Wow. I don’t know if that’s an actual apology.”

“It’s an apology with a hundred percent realness, you know I don’t baby anybody.”

“Hah,” Jungkook scoffs, amused. “Yeah. Well, you’re right, though. Today’s been…”

Doyeon sighs. “It’s hard on you, right?”

Jungkook can only give her a meaningful smile.

“But you don’t exactly have the right to get jealous… she’s not your girlfriend and you two are not anything,” Doyeon says, and it tugs at Jungkook’s heartstrings. Meanwhile, she looks ahead and continues to speak. “It’s hard when you have all these feelings for someone, but you have to hide it. You just want to show everybody they mean so much to you, but you can’t. It sucks.”

Jungkook thinks she’s still talking about his situation with you but then as he glances at her, she seems to be deep in thought. As if she’s actually speaking from her own experience.

He’s intrigued by that, of course.

“Woah, are you still talking about me?”

That seems to get Doyeon out of her trance.

She rolls his eyes. “Who else would I be talking about?”

Jungkook opens his mouth to say something. You guys have always had the theory that Doyeon has a secret boyfriend. It’s silly at best but sometimes, he thinks it’s true. Doyeon has never been the type to wear her heart on her sleeve, though. She’s tough and she’s frank a lot of times. But she’s the kind of friend who’d call you a bitch in your face but then would go to all the lengths to defend you from everybody.

“Okay.” Jungkook nods, dropping the subject.

“Has she told you yet?” Doyeon asks suddenly.

“What?” He mirrors back, knowing exactly who the she Doyeon’s referring to.

“She’s planning to move in with him some of these days.”

“I…” Jungkook stops, his mouth opening and closing like a fish in water. To say that he’s stunned is an understatement. Obviously, you haven’t told him anything.

“You don’t know.” Doyeon says upon realization.

Jungkook shakes his head. “She didn’t tell me.”

Doyeon lets out a loud sigh. “It’s not really set in stone, though, that’s what she said. But they’re discussing it.”

“Ah.” Jungkook nods and looks ahead at the pool. Another beat of silence, a sip of beer, and then he scoffs. “I really should’ve confessed even way back then, huh?” He laughs but there’s no humor in it.

Doyeon stares at him. “I didn’t tell you about that so you can regret not telling your feelings for her earlier.”

“I didn’t—”

“I told you that so you can move on, Jungkook.”

Jungkook closes his mouth shut.

She looks away. “You remember the time I liked you in med school?”

“Doyeon…” Jungkook’s lips part, not at all expecting for her to bring that up. It’s been so long ago and ever since… Doyeon’s confession, they never really talked about it again.

“Oh my god, look at your face,” She laughs. “God, do you think I still like you? I moved on the day after you rejected me.”

“I didn’t reject you.” Jungkook defensively says.

She rolls her eyes. “I asked you if you were interested and you didn’t say anything. You just looked at me like this,” Doyeon stiffens her body and widens her eyes in a comical rendition of Jungkook’s famous OJO face.

Jungkook can’t help but scoff. “That was the strangest confession that happened to me, though. You told me you liked me in the straightest face ever, I still think it was a cruel prank of some sort.”

Doyeon bursts into laughter, and Jungkook follows along, recalling that time.

“Yeah… that was funny. But… it was real, not a prank at all. I don’t remember why I liked you, though.”

Jungkook looks at her incredulously. “Okay, but that’s actually the most hurtful thing you’ve ever said to me.”

“Don’t take it personally,” Doyeon rolls her eyes, but there’s a smile on her lips still. “Anyway, I brought it up because that was the same day when I realized you like __. I mean, I had my suspicions, but I confirmed it around the time.”

Jungkook shakes his head. “Was really surprised when you told me that. I thought I hid it pretty well.”

“Yeah, but not to me. You know, I don’t even know how __ didn’t figure it out herself. You’d always follow her around and in our study sessions, you always stayed up late with her and was overly attentive. Whenever Taehyung asked you too much, you sort of like reached a point where you just told him to suck it up. But if it was __, you were so patient,” Doyeon giggles. “She had a really hard time with Biochem. I remember you tutoring her all the time.”

“That was…” Jungkook bows his head down, a bit embarrassed at being read like that. “She cried a lot during first year.”

Doyeon purses her lips. “Yeah…”

Both stare ahead again, with nothing to say for a few more seconds. Jungkook continues to sip his bear while Doyeon quietly sits.

“I have this biased notion about Mingyu,” Doyeon speaks up. Jungkook looks at her she continues, “I keep on telling myself, he’s probably gonna fuck up anytime soon – and that’s because deep inside, I still want you and __ together. You know I’ve always wanted you both to be together. It’s hard to see __ struggling with her love life. She almost failed the internship when Eunwoo broke up with her, and I don’t want her to go through that again as her friend. It’s hard, because I can’t do anything about it. I think of you, and how much you love her, and I think you’re good for her… but at the same time, I feel bad for thinking that. Because I can see that Mingyu makes her happy. It’s different with the other guys she dated before him. She’s truly happy with him, and I find it hard to think that Mingyu’s gonna break her heart. He seems… nice… and that he’d be good for her, you know what I mean?”

Jungkook’s quiet, processing her words.

Doyeon sighs before she speaks again. “But that hurts you in the process, doesn’t it? Seeing her happy but not with you. You’re both my friends and I’m in the position where it’s hard for me to situate myself in a certain place. Because I want __ to be happy, but I also want you to be happy – but your happiness is interconnected and it’s… tricky. It’s a tricky situation.”

Jungkook doesn’t realize that he’s gripping the neck of the bottle quite tightly at Doyeon’s words, but he listens.

“I don’t normally say things like this, Jungkook, but I’m your friend so I’m just gonna let this go,” Doyeon finally looks at him, and he meets her gaze. “It hurts me to see you hurting like this. It hurts Taehyung and Nayeon as well, but they won’t say it. Just… just be… just be okay, please?”

Jungkook exhales a sharp, shaky breath.

He knows what Doyeon meant by that. She’s asking him to… find happiness on his own. Happiness that doesn’t lie on __’s reciprocity because with the way things are going, that’s impossible. She’s planning to move in with Mingyu, and most of all, she seems genuinely happy.

“I… I know. Thank you.” Jungkook says, not really knowing what to say.

Doyeon chuckles. “Do you want a hug?”

He looks at her with a smile. “I could use one right now, yeah.”

Doyeon laughs before standing up and going over to where Jungkook sits on his own sun chair. When she steps in front of him, Jungkook wraps his arms around her waist and lets himself rest the side of his head on her stomach, closing his eyes when Doyeon pats the crown of his head.

“Belated happy birthday, Jungkook.”

Jungkook chuckles. “Thanks. You’re unusually mushy today.”

Doyeon pinches his ear slightly which earns her a groan.

The two stay like that for a few more seconds when suddenly, Jungkook hears a familiar voice.

“Oh, h-hey guys,”

Jungkook immediately looks ahead to see you standing from the other side of the terrace, looking at him and Doyeon. At that, Doyeon lets go of him, twisting her body to look in your direction. Jungkook retreats his arms back to his side and smiles to acknowledge you.

“I thought you were sleeping already.” He says.

“Yeah, what brought you here?” Doyeon asks.

You approach them with unusually slow steps, as if reluctant. “Left my wallet here. Just realized it a while ago,” you say. After that, you stop on your tracks. Your gaze falls between them with an unsure smile on your face. “You two drinking?”

“Nah, Jungkook is.” Doyeon says, pointing to the bottle of Smirnoffs on the small table beside Jungkook’s chair. Then, she looks under her own. “Where’d you leave your wallet?”

“Over my chair earlier.” You give her a smile again. But somehow, it looks a bit awkward. A little forced. Jungkook knows you well enough to identify your smiles.

And as he looks at you longer, he realizes you have a certain color on your face, but it’s one of those expressions he can’t read.

“Well,” you blurt out after a beat of silence. Looking around, you go over to where you were sitting earlier then duck. “I think I left it here…” you trail off. Jungkook’s just about to stand up to help as well when you suddenly pull up a brown leather, grinning at both of them. “Yay.”

Jungkook chuckles. “That would’ve been the third wallet you’ll lose this year.”

You mirror his laughter, and Doyeon joins in.

There’s another pause and then hesitantly, you ask, “Did I… uh… disturb something? Or…”

“What?” Doyeon asks with furrowed brows. “No,”

“Ah, okay,” you smile at her and then insert your wallet in your shorts. “Anyway, I’m heading back to Mingyu. The villa he rented is just at the back of ours, so… feel free to visit anytime or whatever.”

“Sure.” Jungkook says. He didn’t mean it to sound clipped and short but he must have unintentionally let the tone slip, as you and Doyeon immediately give him a look. He clears his throat. “I mean, of course. Tomorrow?”

You nod.

You look at him. And then, you point between him and Nayeon. “Are you two staying up here late?”

“Nah, I’m heading to bed actually.” Doyeon says, picking up her phone from the sun lounger.

“Yeah, me too.” Jungkook puts the beer to the coffee table and stands up.

You nod. “Okay, then. Well, good night to you two.”

“Alright, good night. I’ll head out first.” Doyeon says before disappearing into the sliding door that leads straight to the villa’s living room.

You soon turn your heels back to head out as well, but Jungkook calls after you. Turning around, you hum, acknowledging him. “Hm?”

“Good night, stinky.”

You deadpan. “Night, fucker.”

Jungkook laughs, watching your retreating back as you leave.

[ DAY 4 | September 3rd , 3:05 am ]

Jungkook likes to work out when he has a lot in his mind. But sometimes, he opts for jogging or walking around to clear his head.

With the turn of events since Mingyu’s arrival and Doyeon informing him about your plans on furthering your relationship with Mingyu, he finds himself along by the shore at three am with high hopes to clear his mind. It doesn’t give the solution, but it temporarily does the job.

Inserting his hands in the pockets of his hoodie, he looks ahead at the view of the ocean, trying so hard to shut his head down with overbearing thoughts of you. It’s no use, though, it’s always filled with thoughts of you and you alone.

Jungkook thinks about the time in med school when he thought he was completely over you. It had been after you made it official with Eunwoo two months into seeing him. He thought it would be a “bigger person” thing to do, moving on, that is, after you announced that you got a boyfriend – but then later on, when he slept with other women or had his casual dates, you suddenly popped up in his head randomly, and his heart suddenly ached when Eunwoo would drop by the university to fetch you. He felt ugly bitterness when you smiled too much whenever Eunwoo was brought up in the conversation. He found himself wishing it was him instead – the guy you thought of buying shirts for, the guy you randomly thought of when you saw something at the mall or the park, or the guy you called when you needed anything.

It was that spring break in second year when he realized that he loved you, after trying hard to brush his feelings off for you as a mere infatuation because you were gorgeous and smart.

He finds himself thinking about the time when he almost let out his heart when you had a fall-out with Eunwoo during your third year. Thinks about how pathetic he was for thinking that he finally had the chance. It had been when you called him at midnight, crying onto the phone as you asked him if he wasn’t busy. Jungkook had been studying for a Clinical Skill Assessment at that time, but he’d have been a fool to make you feel lonely when you already seemed like you were not fine. So, he had set aside his studying that night and went right over to your place. You told him about how Eunwoo was going cold, how Eunwoo was getting too close to the senior architect at his firm which you’d been having huge arguments about during those days – Jungkook remembered feeling broken at the sight of you crying, could feel himself building up hatred for the guy who was fucking up his chance with the woman he did not deserve. He thought about how he would never do that to you, thought about how he could be better for you – the envy bubbling inside his heart too big to ignore.

Jungkook remembered thinking how he would never fuck up any chances with you, and how Eunwoo was a fucking idiot for even making you feel that way.

That night, he almost kissed you. And the day after that, you avoided him like the plague.

Doyeon told him he was just as much of a big fucking idiot as Eunwoo for doing that. And Jungkook remembered regretting that night, and swearing off to never, ever make a move on you ever again because your avoidance of him made him feel like the biggest fucking piece of shit to ever exist on Earth.

He remembers you didn’t talk to him for about a month. And he remembers fearing that that was finally it.  

Of course, you made up – you’re still in his life. You let him still be in your life even though he betrayed your trust. The trust that lies on the fact that he was your best friend. Someone who was not supposed to take advantage of your vulnerability, someone who did not suddenly try to kiss you when you were at your worst.

It was a memory you two weren’t fond of. Heck, you’ve never ever brought it up not even once since it happened. When you finally talked to him again after that, you did not let him apologize for what he did – just shut him down by saying that you two should just forget about it and never mention it again. You made it clear that you did not want to talk about it – not at all, not in a million years.

Again, Jungkook has had a million attempts to move on. Especially when you got back together with Eunwoo. He did temporarily, when Sora came into the picture. He genuinely did like her, even more than his first girlfriend in college, and he thought he could eventually love her the same way he does you, but Eunwoo suddenly proposed… and his defense came crumbling down. The fear of losing you once again was too overwhelming that he ruined the relationship with Sora because admittedly, he had always been pathetic like that.

Even now that you’re with Mingyu, he’s still pathetic. He still thinks that one day, you can finally look at him. Like, really look at him and feel anything but friendly towards him. It’s extremely pathetic that he keeps on telling himself that your friendship will be enough, but then deep down, it’s not.

Jungkook shuts his eyes close when he feels the cool breeze of the wind hitting his skin under the hoodie. He lets himself stand there for a while, just trying to bask in the surroundings, ignoring the heavy feeling that sits in his heart.

But then he smells a sudden waft of smoke, and he knits his brows as he opens his eyes back again, turning to the direction of the smell.

When he turns back, he sees a familiar figure of a man.

“Mingyu?”

Mingyu glances back at him with the same surprised look on his face, but it disappears just as quickly. Pinching the cigarette between his fingers, he blows smoke in the air and inserts one hand in his shorts.

“Jeon.”

“Still Jeon to you, huh?” Jungkook sneers, walking over to where Mingyu is. “Why are you here?”

Mingyu arches a brow. “I could ask you the same thing.”

“Woke up a few minutes ago and couldn’t get back to sleep.”

Taking a hit of his cigarette again, Mingyu shakes his head. “That’s tough.”

“Same with you?” Jungkook asks.

“Nah. Had a discussion with my girlfriend. Just wanted to clear my head.”

Jungkook nods, not saying anything to that. It’s weird that you’ve been fighting a lot lately. He wonders if you’re okay.

Pulling out a pack of Marlboro and a lighter, Mingyu extends them to Jungkook.

He looks down at it and thinks about how this exact thing happened in college. Mingyu always had the pack of cigarettes and the link to the best weed man in college. He used to think they would be fond memories.

But Jungkook shakes his head, looking ahead.

“I quit years ago.” He says. And it is true. He wasn’t much of a smoker and only did it occasionally when he was extremely stressed, but it took him awhile to stop the habit completely, only dropping the cigarettes during second year of med school. Jungkook would say it was due to his own concern about his health – but there was an incident in the same year where you caught him smoking at the uni’s park after a particularly taxing exam, and how you did not hesitate to tell him that you hated – absolutely abhorred – smokers. You said you didn’t care if he smoked, but as a med student he should’ve known better.

He never touched that shit again.

“Changing your ways now?” Mingyu says with a teasing – more like mocking – tone, inserting the pack and lighter back in his pants.

Jungkook shrugs at that, which earns him a scoff from Mingyu.

“Do you smoke around her?” Jungkook suddenly asks.

“Who?”

“__.”

A beat of silence. And then Mingyu laughs.

“No. She doesn’t know I smoke. She doesn’t have to.”

Good. Jungkook thinks. Good that he doesn’t smoke around her. But what did he mean by saying she doesn’t need to know?

“She doesn’t like smokers, you know.” Jungkook tells him.

From his periphery, Jungkook sees Mingyu glancing at him. It takes a while for him to say something.

“You’d know that, huh?”

The dip in his tone makes Jungkook meet his gaze. Suddenly, the smirk on Mingyu’s face is gone, and there’s something behind his eyes that he can’t quite put a finger on.

Jungkook tries to ignore that. “I’ve known her for a long time. The others can also tell you that.” He says, referring to the rest of your friends on the trip.

“You think I don’t know?”

With furrowed brows and growing confusion, Jungkook stares at Mingyu.

“What?”

“That you like my girlfriend.” Mingyu spits the words out like venom in his mouth, but it’s in a way that tells him it’s been sitting with him for far too long. Jungkook’s surprised at the declaration, feels himself being taken aback by the blunt way he said it as if he’s so sure.

But Jungkook doubles down, to Mingyu’s surprise.

“So?”

That obviously wasn’t the answer the other man wanted to hear. So, what? He can dish it, but he can’t take it?

“You’re goddamn pathetic, then.” Mingyu says after awhile, taking a hit on his cigarette again.

It itches the bubbling anger Jungkook has had for him for the past ten years.

“I like __, and I’m not gonna deny that to you,” Jungkook faces him. “But you don’t have to worry about that, because unlike you, I have enough self-respect to not sleep with my friend’s girlfriend.”

It’s another response that Mingyu does not expect. Jungkook also did not mean to let that out. But his tongue glided with the words and he couldn’t help it. Suddenly, memories of junior year in undergrad comes back flashing to him; Jiyeon and Mingyu, fucking in his goddamn bed, his girlfriend cheating on him with his best friend.

Jungkook’s already moved on from that. Jiyeon was not a loss, even though she was his first girlfriend – heck, first love even, but she cheated on him. And not just with anybody but his best friend at the time. The worst thing was that Mingyu was completely in on it, and Jungkook doesn’t think he ever felt remorse about what happened back then. Mingyu gave him a half-assed apology the day he walked in on them, even had the gall to “explain” Jiyeon’s side, that apparently, she just wasn’t “feeling it” with Jungkook anymore, and that Mingyu and her had been hitting it off. Jungkook realized it was why Mingyu suddenly came over way too often over at his apartment.

It’s exactly why he never bothered to meet with Mingyu after graduation. Why he was not enthusiastic meeting him at the engagement party.

But that happened so many years ago that he thought Mingyu’s changed. He didn’t want to burst your bubble and tell you what happened between them back then because he’d be the one to ruin the happiness you’ve wished for all these years.

“I see you’re still hung up on that.” Mingyu says after a while. He throws the cigarette away and steps on it with his heel.

Jungkook’s jaw ticks in what he feels is growing rage. “I’ve moved on. I’m just letting you know that even though I like __, I’m never doing what you did back then.”

“You’re such good guy, then?”

“If not cheating makes me a good guy, then maybe I am.” Jungkook shrugs.

“Jiyeon was a bitch. She was never gonna be good for you.” Mingyu suddenly says.

It makes Jungkook seethe. “And so you fucked her?”

“She liked me better than you. Women always liked me more, that’s why I was going through them while your goody-two shoes virgin prude ass was daydreaming about dating to marry.  You remember that, right?” Mingyu looks at him with a mocking stare. “And Jiyeon was smoking hot. She offered, I just delivered. Said you couldn’t make her cum properly. We could have shared her, you know?”

“Fuck you.” Jungkook spits out. He feels enraged and pissed and disgusted all at the same time.

“Are you getting mad?” Mingyu levels him with an infuriating smirk. “You always got a stick up in your ass, Jeon. Kyungmi told me you’re just a regular playboy these days, said it was the effect of your first girlfriend cheating on you. Right now, though, is that just a front to hide your feelings from my girlfriend? A pathetic boy best friend just wanting to be noticed by his hot girl best friend? You play that role so well. Telling me she’s lactose intolerant, she doesn’t like smokers… you want to fuck her so bad it’s laughable because you know you can’t.”

“Don’t… fucking talk about her like that.” Jungkook growls, and he feels blood rushing through his veins.

Mingyu shakes his head. “You know what I thought when I first met her? I was completely interested right away, but when you showed up…” He chuckles in the way that makes Jungkook’s skin prickle. “It just made me want her more.”

“You’re fucked in the head.”

“This fucked in the head guy got the girl you want wanting to commit to him. I don’t know if she told you, but we’re moving in together.”

Jungkook pokes his tongue to his cheek. “You think I won’t tell her about this?”

“You think she’s gonna believe you?” Mingyu fires back. Jungkook closes his mouth, doesn’t really know if he’s confident enough to say yes. That earns him an arrogant smirk from Mingyu. “That’s right, she won’t. I have no doubt she’s gonna choose me over you. Jiyeon has had before. And if you’re gonna fight the same battle again this time, you’ll lose.”

Jungkook regulates his breathing hearing his words. He’s starting to not see clearly, his fist clenching on his side and he knows better than to resort to violence, but Mingyu’s testing his patience.

He’s completely wrong for thinking that he isn’t the same asshole he was back in college. He’s completely wrong for not telling you about him sooner. He’s completely wrong about everything.

Glancing at his hand, Mingyu looks him in the eyes, leaning forward. “You wanna hit me just like how you did back then? You almost fucking killed me when you gave me that head injury that kicked me out of the fucking team.”

The head injury. That fucking head injury. Jungkook was so mad when he found out that he just saw pure red. It wasn’t his best moment – he knows. He lost control and just… went for it. He still regrets doing it – not punching Mingyu – but for losing it when he could’ve shown him that he’d always be the bigger person between them both.

He’s quiet and Mingyu takes that as a win. Scoffing, Mingyu says, “I could’ve reported you to the admin and you could’ve been expelled, and if that happened, you couldn’t have gone to med. You are where you are right now because of me, so don’t fucking show that animosity towards me because you fucking owe me one.”

Jungkook can’t help but laugh. But he does so humorlessly. “You really think that?” He stares at the other guy. “You’re just as delusional as you were back then, Gyu. You think everybody liked you – but that was just because you were a touch-deprived loser who would fuck anything that breathed near him, and I wasn’t. I only entertained women I liked. You thought you were smarter, but I was always the one who got the better and higher grades, even though you studied way harder. Is that why you went with law? So you won’t have to compete with me in the med field? I also know you were pissed as fuck when the captain title was passed on to me instead of you,” Jungkook leans closer as well. “You’ve always thought of yourself so highly, but deep down, you were just an insecure little boy trying to compete with another guy that didn’t even see you as competition because you were that irrelevant.”

Mingyu, in his own fir of rage, grabs Jungkook’s collar, but Jungkook stays in his place, face stoic as Mingyu snarls, “You keep running your mouth while you cry yourself to sleep because those don’t mean anything when I’m the one fucking the love of your life,” Jungkook visibly recoils to that, and when Mingyu notices, he smirks, adding, “Yeah, yeah, you wanna know how __ is in bed? Because you’ll never see her sopping wet when you give her cock. That angelic face of hers… you’ll never know she’s a slut the way that filthy mouth asks me to fuck her harder because I am that goo—”

He wasn’t able to finish his sentence when Jungkook’s heavy fist suddenly lands on his cheek.

That effectively gets Mingyu to let go of Jungkook’s collar as he loses his balance and steps backwards limply, thumbing the side of his mouth only to see blood.

Whisking away his fist, Jungkook looks at Mingyu with fire in his eyes and venom in his voice when he says, “Don’t you ever fucking dare talk about her like that, you fucking piece of shit.”

The moon hangs low in the sky, casting a silvery white glow over the beach, but the comforting sound of waves and the calm of the surrounding is a contrast to the rising tension between Jungkook and Mingyu.

When Mingyu doesn’t say anything, Jungkook turns on his heel, ready to leave, but suddenly, he feels the back of his shirt getting pulled and being met with a fist right on his cheek, close to his nose. He barely dodges the hit, taken aback by the unexpected attack.

“Fuck you.” Mingyu grits, eyes blazing.

With that, the fight intensifies, with Jungkook throwing a quick jab back. Mingyu retaliates with as much fury, the two of them grappling, their bodies colliding with violent force. Soon, the sound of their grunts and the occasional crash of a punch against flesh is drowned out by the crashing waves.

And then a familiar voice calls their names.

“Jungkook! Mingyu!”

“Oh my god!”

Jungkook’s suddenly being taken away by somebody by his arms, and he realizes it’s Taehyung when he speaks up again once he and Mingyu are off each other.

“What the fuck are you two doing?” Taehyung asks incredulously, rightfully shocked at what he’s seen. Jungkook forces his way out of Taehyung’s hold in frustration, wiping the side of his mouth. Mingyu’s on the other side a few inches away being hesitantly held down by Nayeon, who looks at all of them with deep worry in her eyes. Turning to her, Taehyung says, “Call Doyeon and __. They’re sleeping in the same room together at the villa.”

“You don’t need to do that,” Jungkook says, glaring at Taehyung.

He looks at him angrily. “You’re fistfighting with somebody at fuck o’clock in the morning. We’re going to get run off by the police, be thankful we saw you.”

“I-I’ll call Doyeon and __.” Nayeon stutters, reluctantly pulling away from Mingyu and going to the direction of the villas.

When she leaves, Taehyung looks between the two beaten up men, not believing their busted faces. Rubbing his own with his hands in frustration, he looks back at them again, saying, “What the fuck happened to you guys? Why were you fighting?”

“It’s none of your business.” Mingyu says.

Taehyung glances at him with irritation. “None of my business? Fuck off, Kim Mingyu. You joined in on this trip. Everything that happens here is quite literally each other’s business.”

“Tae.”

“I can’t believe you guys,” Taehyung shakes his head, ignoring Jungkook. “Fighting like goddamn immature teenagers… are you not embarrassed?”

Looking away, Jungkook decides to sit on the sand and let Taehyung’s words go from one ear to another. His energy is waning and the rage he had a while ago is just simmering down to… nothing. He feels absolutely empty.

“Jungkook?” He doesn’t realize the steps that were coming towards them were you and Doyeon. It’s obvious that you’ve both been sleeping, still in your pajamas as you rush towards their direction. He looks at you when you call his name, but then suddenly, you turn to Mingyu. “Ming— what happened?”

Jungkook feels his heart break when you come towards Mingyu’s direction first. He knows why you did. He’s your boyfriend, of course you are going to tend to him first.

Suddenly, he remembers what Mingyu said. About you choosing him over Jungkook.

Jungkook didn’t doubt that, but it doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt a little to see it fully realized.

“Jungkook– Jesus Christ,” Doyeon comes over to him and quickly checks his head. With knitted brows, she casts him a look.

“I’m fine.”

She’s about to say something, but then she closes her mouth and then glances at you.

Sighing, she turns to everyone and announces, “Look, let’s just get them back to the villa. Treat their wounds before they get infected.”

“Right.” Taehyung says and then comes over to Jungkook to help Doyeon guide him in walking. He relents first because he doesn’t need their assistance, but Taehyung looks at him and he knows he’s pissed. So, he lets them.

As he tries to subtly look over to where you were, you have your arm around Mingyu’s waist while Nayeon helps guide him as well.

It takes a tedious few minutes to get back to the villa where Doyeon and Taehyung decide to take care of him in his room while Nayeon and you tend to Mingyu back in your room.

Doyeon nor Taehyung doesn’t say anything the whole time. Just let the silence fall in the room as they clean his wounds and put bandages around the cuts on his face and treat his busted lip.

He knows they’ll talk to him in the next few hours. It’s inevitable. But at least they’re sparing him for tonight – or today, since it’s almost four am.

Jungkook regrets not seeing the sunrise.

[ READ BELOW ]

this chapter is not over yet! tumblr has a 1k paragraph/block limit in a single post and so i can't put the whole thing in this. please look thru the reblogs to read the last scene and the continuation of this chapter or click on this [ link ]

[sun-kissy]

Hello,💚

I was wondering if you’d be willing to write Remus x Fem!Reader who just had surgery of some sort? Preferably some hurt/comfort and fluff, where R is in pain and Remus is sweet about it?

Or if you’re not comfortable with that, any hurt/comfort with Remus would be great :))

(This is my first time requesting, but I really love your works! I just had surgery for my endometriosis, and I haven’t been sleeping much because of pain, so I’ve been up binge reading your works instead 😅)

💚

thank you so much for the request angel! honestly this hit home, because my mum had to have surgery for her endometriosis too, and i just wanted to say that i’m proud of you for being so strong. i hope that the pain has eased now, and you’re getting some well-deserved rest! <3

better | r.l.

tw: mention of surgery, hurt/comfort

remus lupin x reader

Remus rolls over on the bed, feeling around for you until he finds your hand. He takes your fingers in his, lacing them together before giving a soft squeeze.

“Hey sweetheart,” his words are soft and stringed together, as though dipped in honey. Your eyes are wide open as you look at him, the soft moonlight from the window casting shadows across your face. “Hi.”

“Still can’t sleep?” he murmurs, rubbing his thumb over your knuckles gently. His heart aches as he eyes you, curled up in a foetal position with your arms wrapped around your knees. You’ve pressed yourself so tightly together Remus thinks you might squeeze yourself half to death.

“No,” you mumble, trying to keep the hurt out of your voice for his sake. But he can see the slight contortion in your features, and he knows the pain is bothering you.

You’d just gotten surgery for your endometriosis a few days ago, after much convincing from your boyfriend. The pain had been bothering you for months before the surgery and he was convinced that you would feel a lot better once you faced the music. However, these past few days post-surgery weren’t proving to be any better, and he’d often find you in tears from how much everything hurt.

Remus hated that he couldn’t do anything to just take all your pain away and make it alright. But like all good things, it had to get worse before it got better.

He reaches a hand out, cupping your face in the basin of his palm as he silently thumbs your cheek. You relax into his touch, and let your eyes flutter closed.

“Rem,” you whisper.

“Yeah, dove?”

“It really hurts.”

Remus doesn’t miss the crack in your voice, and he feels like his heart is being cleaved in two. A pitiful sound comes from the back of his throat as he extends his other hand to stroke comfortingly at your hairline. “I know, baby. I’m sorry.”

At his sympathy, you curl in on yourself even further as though pained. Hot tears dribble down your cheeks and curve the bridge of your nose, and Remus moves his thumb to swipe at them. You whimper, and it makes him hurt in all the worst ways.

“I’m so tired. And I just want to sleep, but I can’t, and –” you choke pathetically on the lump in your throat. Remus shushes you, unable to stop himself from tugging you closer until your knees are squished between both of your chests. He presses a hand to your back, rubbing up and down your spine in a way he hopes is comforting.

Leaning forward, he presses his lips to your hairline. “I’m so sorry, honey. But you’re going to feel better in a few more days.” He desperately wishes his kiss could convey all the comfort and love you needed right now.

Remus needles an arm between your knees and stomach, pressing the back of his hand to your abdomen. His fingers start to trace a circular motion, knuckles brushing against your stitches in the same way they’ve done countless times before. He feels the muscles underneath his hand relax slightly.

“But what if I don’t feel better?” you warble. “What if I never sleep again?”

Remus could almost laugh at how loopy the meds made you if you didn’t sound so pitiful. More tears wet your eyelashes, and he indulgently kisses them away before smoothing his fingers over your cheeks.

“Then I’ll get you sleeping meds.”

“Really?” you sniffle, and it’s the most hopeful you’ve sounded that whole week. But you both know that Remus wasn’t going to let you ruin your system with more medicines than necessary.

“No,” he whispers bemusedly, almost guilty when he hears the earnest longing in your voice, “but what I can do for you right now is get you the heating pad.”

You don’t even look upset at his words, seemingly expecting the response. Your lip quivers as you draw it in between your teeth guiltily. “I don’t want you to get up, though. You should be getting some rest. I bet you’re exhausted, looking after me all night.”

Remus presses a quick peck to the tender spot beneath your eye as he pushes his elbows into the mattress, hoisting himself up straight. “I’m up, sweetheart.” He pulls his hand away from your abdomen, unable to stop the small smile that forms when you whine in protest.

He bends down to press another kiss to your forehead, and you feel the upward curve of his lips against your skin. “And I don’t mind looking after you. The only thing I’m worried about right now is you not getting enough rest.”

You hum softly in response, and Remus resists the urge to cocoon you in a mountain of blankets and smother your pain away. Instead, he brushes strands of hair back from your face. “Try to sleep, please.”

“After you get me the heating pad.”

He hums indulgently, moving his hand to the nape of your neck and comfortingly brushing over the baby hairs there. “You want anything else? Chocolate, or hot tea, maybe?”

“Chocolate would be nice,” you admit.

“Then chocolate it is,” he smiles as he stands up, rounding the bed.

“Rem?”

“Yeah, dove?”

“Are you sure you can’t get me sleeping pills?”

Remus huffs out a laugh, giving your foot a warning squeeze before leaving the room.

[randomfoggytiger]

"You Have to Go Back to Bed"

Fictober, Day 7

*-*-*-*-*

For @agent-troi, who liked this post Hungry idea.

*-*-*-*-*

"Scully, got any meds on you?" Mulder, head in hands, sat on the edge of his motel mattress squeezing into an upright approximation of the fetal position.

Shutting the door behind her, Scully hastily padded to his bedside dresser. "Did you take any of these this morning?"

"No, and I'm feeling it now."

"I can see why." For a split second, she curled her palm tighter, fought back an avalanche of Why, Mulder? criticisms. Now was not the time.

"I don't need two, Scully."

She sighed, stilled. "Here's one. And here," she added, grabbing a glass of water, "drink this." He must have filled it before the pain became too much.

Although Mulder was gulping the water with gratitude-- head tilted up and back in an attempt to relieve his cranial pressure-- he must have sensed her tension; or known her well enough to guess she would be tense. "I get it, Scully. It was too soon."

"Well, working a case a few weeks after traumatic brain surgery isn't the wisest choice." Lowering herself to the bed, she sat shoulder to shoulder and waited for him to shrug in acceptance. "But you were doing well, before...."

"Before I shot Rob Roberts." He leaned forward again, elbows on his knees and back slumped guiltily forward. "Like a rube, Scully."

"No one could have predicted what he did, Mulder. We'd have to have been in his head. I mean, not even his therapist knew, really."

Her partner couldn't nod, but he could silently acquiesce. She knew his signs enough to read the release of guilt. "You're wrong about one thing."

Of course. "Oh? What specifically?"

His eyes peered up at her, solemn but twinkling. Sincere. "I still can't predict...." He shrugged, a little, shy gesture that filled in the blanks.

"Mulder." This impossible, hopeful dreamer. "You didn't read my mind."

He wasn't offended, smiling at her pat answer. "I did, Scully. I dreamed it."

"And not the first crazy one with me in it." It was fun to flirt with their new line: her foot on one end of it and his on the other, slowly erasing inch by inch until they met in the middle. Only a matter of time before they stopped clutching their touchstones and gave over their hearts.

"But for now," Scully decided, closing the lid on her flyaway thoughts, "you need some sleep. if your headache's not better in the morning, we'll fly home and get you into an early appointment."

"Scully," Mulder started. His hand was on her wrist, suddenly, arresting her before she could sweep out of the room. "I..." He wanted to say something, his eyes darting over her face. Then his cheeks twitched, amused; and she mentally walked back through their conversation.

If he wanted to know her mind, the VCU's Golden Boy could have flipped it inside and out-- had, before they were assigned-- and poured over every shade and shadow. But maybe that was the trick: he could understand the depravity, expect the danger; suspicion a conspiracy lurking in the hearts of human nature. The fantastic, the ghosts and the spooks, acted as an escape from this rote calculation and prediction. Maybe it was as simple as his need to believe in something greater-- in goodness, in distinction, in separateness. In her. And that kept the car driving, and the road going, and life ground to a halt in repeated, unending lines.

Or maybe, she reflected, weighing this new, enlightened understanding shining from his soul, it was those things, until he woke up.

Mind readers, both of us.

"Read this," Scully whispered, raising her hands to steeple her temples. "Ummm...."

"I hear you, Scully, loud and clear." Mulder turned, shuffled backward, and grabbed a pillow like a good little boy. "See you in the morning, Doc."

Rising, then pausing, she turned one last time to lean across the bed, to vainly smooth his sweaty, unruly spikes of hair. "Goodnight, Mulder."

*-*-*-*-*

Thanks for reading~

Enjoy! 

Tagging @today-in-fic and @xffictober24.

[alientee]

Are you still taking Mauga requests?

Would you be willing to write a comfort fic where reader (she/her) has acid burn scars on her back, they're almost always in pain. One day during a mission Mauga notices something is off about reader, then eventually the pain is too much, Mauga learns abt the scars.

I’m so sorry that this took so long! I had writers block and work 😭 but I hope it’s too your liking if not I’ll try again.

Mauga x reader (AFAB undertones)

You never knew peace for long, you would always live your life normally until the searing pain started again. It took a lot out of you to deal with the aftermath of the burns you received on your back. Taking pain meds that barley helped only made you frustrated, not being able to rub ointment on your entire back without struggling made you angry, and taking antibiotics to prevent infection just made you sad.

But you overcame it, after the reconstruction surgery’s you thought it would be better. Yet life had a different agenda the pain wouldn’t leave you for long. And in your everyday life you had pain endlessly on and off. Nothing really made you feel like the pain was worth getting out of bed for. That was until you had met Mauga. Such an unstoppable force of a man he was, his job was to deliver pain to others and all you had know was pain. But he made you feel better than you had in ages.

It was worth it gettin out if bed doing your straining routine. It was worth the slight sting you’d get before more pain came as long as you saw Mauga smile. As long as he was happy with you, you could deal with the pain. But you felt that you could only hide from him. That you’re burdens aren’t his to bear, so you hid from him the best you could. If you say oversized dresses s are your favorite he’d get you more. If you didn’t like hugs our close touching because it makes you uncomfortable he wouldn’t push it. In retrospect he should have known something was wrong when he never saw you lay on your back not even on the couch.

He never knew he would see you fall to the floor in pain, he didn’t know how to react when you screamed in agony; Mauga truly didn’t know how to help you when one touch to you made everything worse. “Sweetheart please wear does it hurt!?” You shallow breathing was barely heard with a whisper of you back coming out. “Turn over please” you had turned to your stomach from your side. You knew Mauga was trying to help but you just hoped this wouldn’t make this worse, that it wouldn’t ruing anything.

Mauga picked you up by your stomach to take you to your shared room. He lays you down and begins to suck for pain meds and what he saw shocked him. You had so many meds in your cabinet, how long has this been going on, why didn’t you tell him. None of those things mattered now though. Now he needed to make sure you were comfortable as possible. He brought he meds and some water. Along with some muscle relaxing ointment, he slowly lifts your head to help you take the meds. “Can I touch you?” You hesitated slightly but you knew I’d help along with the acid burns the tightness you get in your skin sometimes added to the pain ; you nod softly to him.

He rubs the ointment into your skin slowly as possible. It takes a while but he’s gentle with you, and Mauga is never fully gentle or quiet. To have him treat you this way, for you to finally get help you never have, it made you cry even more. As he was rubbing the ointment on you his hand gripped your thigh. “Why didn’t you tell me, if you’re in pain I want to help you…. You help me alot ya know, you don’t trust me or somthing?” You could only shake your head, he didn’t get it and you didn’t want him too but you had no other choice but to come clean.

“I didn’t want you to worry about me, I didn’t want my constant pain to be a strain on us , or dictate how I live my life. I want to be able to live with you and forget the pain” Mauga rubbed your hair softly and kissed your forehead “Silly girl, your mine so I always worry about you. But if you think I won’t stick it out with you you’re wrong. I may not be the best at this emotional crap I just know how to have fun and cause destruction. So give me all your pain, let it out and don’t hold back I’ll be here to destroy it every time anyway I can.”

You both sit in silence as he runs his hand through your hair and stroking your face. “Still hurting baby girl?” You lean back into his warmth nodding slightly. “Im almost always in pain but it went down for now but it still stings a little.” “How about I get Moria or sombra to find something to help I’ll pay whatever as long as I can stop your pain even a little” All you could do was smile in contempt.

“Thank you Mauga”

[jpitha]

Between the Black and Grey 65

First / Previous / Next

The cessation of the intense pain and sensation from the Nanite battle was like a clanging silence when Fen woke up on the ground. She sat up and looked around at the ancient K'laxi forest she's seen so many times before.

"Ma!" Fen stood up and started running. The direction didn't seem to matter in this kind of place before, so she didn't pay attention to where she was running. It was the running that was important. "Ma! Where are you?" Fen hears a noise and turns automatically to track it, and she runs headlong into a branch on a low tree.

Flat on her back, she stares up at the canopy. Funny, it doesn't really hurt here. She felt her head hit the branch, and she was knocked onto the ground, but it doesn't hurt. A familiar K'laxi looks down at her worried. "Fen? What's wrong?"

She sits up quickly. "Ma! I'm in trouble. Han'iel has started a coup and his lab developed their own Nanites and they are attacking the Nanites I have and, and, and he said he doesn't know you." Tears flow down Fen's cheeks as the words rush out of her.

"Han'iel? I never met Han'iel. I never met anyone on your lab team. I wa-"

Fen came back in a room, hugged by Gord. Along with that, the pain rushed back. The searing, white hot pain caused her to whimper quietly. A woman - that's Chloe, Fen thought - sat in a command chair and regarded them. "Welcome back. I see you are none the worse for wear." Through the pain, Fen noticed she was speaking through the ships comm. Why?

"Chloe, something's wrong with Fen, I'm taking her to Med." Gord scooped her up and carried her down the hall, still wearing his large black pack on his back. "Talk to me Fen, what did they do to you?"

"Han'iel made his own... Nanites... they're fighting mine." Talking was hard. It hurt so much. "He said he released thousands of beacons."

"That he did Fen, we saw them leave. Whatever he wanted to say has been said to every nook and cranny of known space. Do you know what he was doing?"

"He said my reign was over, that the... empire only controlled Sol again." She winced. "He also said that he had the Sefs, the Gren, and others on his side. He made it sound like all the K'laxi are with him."

"Now that I doubt. The K'laxi were never a monolithic bloc. The Sefigans and Gren aren't either. There is infighting and factions same as anywhere. I bet his support isn't as large as he is making it sound." The door to Medical slid open as Gord rushed in. He gently placed Fen onto a table and automated arms slid down from the ceiling and started to run their scans over her. Gord read the readouts and frowned. "Body temperature high, but you don't have other signs of a fever, no infection, no inflammation. It must be the nanomachines fighting."

"Gord, I'm scared." Fen gasped. "Everything I know about the Nanites says that if they die, I die." She stared up at the ceiling. "I thought that I'd be happy when I was finally dying." She flicked her eyes to Gord. "I'd get to be with Ma again. But no, I want to live Gord. Can you help me?" Fen started shaking. "Please Gord, help."

"I'm trying kiddo, I'm trying." Gord snapped a mono over one of his eyes, and took over control of a few of the arms over the med table. Immedieatly they started moving more surely, with less hesitation. "It's been a while since I've done nano scale surgery, but let's hope it's like riding a bike. Chloe!"

"Yes Gord?" Chloe's voice over the intercom was calm, almost detached. Fen actually marveled that she felt better that Chloe wasn't panicking.

"Interface here, and let me some of your processing. I'm trying to find out how a war is going while it's being fought, in Fen, at nearly a quantum level. It's tricky."

"Yes Gord, millisec." Gord continued to manipulate the arms as another set dropped down. Chloe probably. One of them had a needle on the end, and it slid into Fen's neck. "Sorry Fen, you won't be awake for this one." Gord said, as she lost consciousness.

Fen was in her kitchen. Her old one, back on the station in the refugee block. There was a pot of tea on the table and three mugs. Sitting at the table was Ma-ren, looking like she did when she was alive; blue coveralls, her hair brushed but otherwise unadorned, her silver earrings shaking slightly as she moved her head. "Hey Fen, come have some tea" she said, smiling warmly; as she smiled her ears flicked and the earrings jangled just a bit. "It's some Chamomile from Earth, Da'reni managed to find some."

Fen sank into the chair opposite her wife and took a sip. It was hot, but not scalding, sweet, but not overpowering, floral without tasting vegetative. It was perfect. "This might be a dream, or hallucination, or whatever-" she said, sighing, "but that is a good cup of tea."

"We're glad you like it, Fen." said a third voice. Walking out of the shadows was a... being. They were bipedal, with two arms and two legs, but their bodies were covered in a coarse fur, more like a sheep than the soft, pettable fur of the K'axi. Around their shoulder area, the fur was long and braided with beads and jems, covering their shoulder like a shawl. Their heads were wide and soft, with large wet eyes, and a small nose. They sat in the chair on the end of the table and took the third cup of tea. They breathed in the steam, sighing contentedly. "You know, I think this is the first time in a million solar cycles at least since we've had something to drink. It's quite... nostalgic."

Fen watched them drink, thinking furiously. "You're... what the Nanites looked like before..."

"Before we submitted to assimilation, yes." They moved their shoulders in a sort of half shrug that Fen immediately knew was their version of a nod.

"I'm asleep then, dreaming." Fen took another sip of her tea.

"More like unconscious. Chloe gave you quite a strong dose of sedative. Right now she and Gord are working to save your life while I battle Han'iel's own Nanites." They made a sour face. "The war isn't going as well as I had hopped."

"Why is Ma here?" Fen gestured to Ma-ren who waggled her ears.

"For comfort, mostly. She is... a memory." They put the tea down. "Names are important. You can call me Vel."

"Is it your name?"

"It was a name. Remember, we have been one for longer than you've had metal. Longer than you've had language." Vel rumbled a chuckle. "It's as good a name as any. We like it."

"Okay Vel, why am I here? You clearly want to talk to me, even though we can do it at anytime."

That same half shrug. "We have the time. Gord and Chloe will be working on you a while yet." Their fur rippled twice. "You might even survive. As much as we talk, you wouldn't have been the first to survive our removal, though you will be the first to survive our removal this quickly. Usually the process takes years." They took another sip of tea. "Fen, what happens to humans when they go through a wormhole link?"

Fen blinked. This was unexpected. "For the majority of us, nothing. For about 1 in 100, it feels like we die. We visit-" she waved her hands "-somewhere else, and sometimes we talk with people who may or may not be our ancestors. Nobody is really sure, and we don't really have any way of proving it. Some people think it's a hallucination."

"Humans are still religious, are they not? We know the K'laxi are."

"Some are, yes," Fen said, carefully.

"So finding out that something happens after you die, must have caused a stir."

"I don't really know Vel, I grew up outside of humanity, remember?" Fen's lips were pressed tightly together and she took another sip of tea to avoid speaking.

"Yes yes. I was trying a roundabout way to get to my point, but I see that you're not interested in a philosophical discussion. Fen, who do you see when you link? We know something happens to you, but we are not privy to what. As far as we are able to discern, there is no time difference from entering the wormhole to exiting."

So they never did figure out what was going on. Fen's shoulders relaxed as she released the tension she didn't realize she was holding. Han'iel has begun his coup and her body is fighting for its life as the Nanites fight, no sense in lying now. "I would see Ma-ren. When I realized that you didn't 'come with me' when I linked, I told her and she said she'd work on a plan to free me. I didn't know the plan so you wouldn't know it. She... did something to my memories. Locked them away until a key phrase was spoken."

"Well that proves that it's not a hallucination then, doesn't it? Something happens to you when you die."

"Ugh, you haven't met everyone. I'm sure there are a ton of humans who would say that's no proof at all. That we can trick ourselves quite well." Fen leaned back in her chair. As she did, it became her couch from the apartment. Vel was sitting across from her in Ma's favorite chair. Ma herself was gone. Fen had a twinge of regret at that. It just reinforced she was just a memory. It was odd how... easy it was to talk to Vel. When they were the Nanites in her head they were much more demanding, more authoritative. Here, Vel was just another person, albeit a representation of a long dead group of people whose decedents live as a collective of nanotechnology... things. Whatever. It was easier to talk to Vel, and that worried Fen. "Vel, I worry that you're going to try and talk me into being Empress again. I'm not going to do that. I never wanted to do that, and I won't do it again."

"Fen, I don't think you realize how good you were at being Empress. It's not an easy job. You were able to juggle your own wants with the needs of the Empire with our desire to increase the Gate system. You installed more Gates than all of the previous human Empresses." Vel's voice had odd harmonics; it was like they were speaking partially by vibrating something on their body. Still, even though the interesting way of speaking, they sounded impressed.

"You only want me to be Empress so you have someone to build Gates so you can hunt for energy, for food. That's why you wanted to come to the white hole so badly."

"Yes, that is true."

"So? You're here. I brought you." She gestured with her mug out of the window of her living room. "Go, do your thing to the white hole. Disconnect yourselves from us, leave."

"They don't want to leave Fen, you know that." Ma-ren walked into the living room and sat next to Fen. She tried to snuggle up, but Fen's shoulder and arm shot back as if she was shot. "You're not Ma."

"No, she was recent in your memories, easier to assume her shape. We're the others..."

"Han'iel's Nanites." Fen stared hard at Ma. It was a very good projection, but it was made on her memories, so Fen assumed it was as good as she remembered her. "It's getting crowded in here. What do you want?"

Ma shrugged. "The same thing as you, we assume. We want the other Nanites ejected from the galaxy, and left to do things our own way."

"With you in charge instead of them."

"Not... exactly." Not-Ma sat up. "It's more complicated than that Fen, you know this. You can't undo what's been done, and you can't unlearn what's been learned, but you can do better next time. Han'iel thinks that's what we'll be. an iteration."

Fen narrowed her eyes. "Han'iel sounds like he wants a turn ruling the galaxy last time we spoke."

Not-Ma waved her hand dismissively. "What he wants and what he'll get can be different things. We're new, but we're smart. We had to be in order to survive. We don't think Han'iel will be ruler of anything in a short amount of time. His support is much more tenuous than he makes it sound."

"How can you know that? You were activated in front of me."

Not-Ma laughed. It was odd. It sounded like a mix of human and K'laxi laughter. "You think that was the first time we were activated? Han'iel just has a flair for the dramatic. We've been online and active for more than a year. We've had time to learn about the galaxy." Not-Ma stood and patted Fen's shoulder. "Don't worry. These folks-" she gestured towards Vel "-aren't long for this galaxy. We're the new game in town."

"Don't be so sure. The battle is not the war. We've been at this much longer than you." Vel said, frowning.

"You're so sure? Come on then, let's see who wins!" Not-Ma walked up to Vel, and placed her small hands on either side of their head, and before anyone could react, snapped their neck.

[callsign-dexter]

From Exes to Lovers

Request: Hi ☺️ Could i request a Connor Rhodes imagine for my bday tomorrow? Maybe where the reader is his ex and also a nurse at the med. One time you get in a terrible car crash and get to the ER where Connor gets called to save you. You nearly die during the surgery but he saves you and stays with you all the time till you wake up. Then he keeps caring for you during your whole recovery and you slowly start getting your old feelings back, so you decide on a second chance for your love. Hope this is ok ❤️

Pairings: Connor Rhodes x Nurse!Reader

Warnings: angst, fluff, car crash, inaccurate medical talk, implied cheating but not really

A/N: Happy birthday to the anon who sent this request in!

Frist Installment: Exes to Lovers

Second Installment: Lovers Forever

Masterlist

You don't know how it happened. You had the right of way. The light was green. Some drunk person had run their red light and t-boned you as you were crossing the intersection. They had hit you hard enough that your car flipped 4 times until it landed thankfully upright but in the other lane. Glass was everywhere. You're pretty sure you had a concussion from hitting your head on the steering wheel and the window. You for sure had broken bones. But then the pain came especially around your abdominal area. The other driver had died on impact. How did this happen you ask? Well, this is how.

You had just gotten back from visiting your friend, Hailey Upton, and her husband, Jay Halstead, you were ranting about Connor Rhodes, your now ex-boyfriend, and that you had caught another woman texting. You had dated for 3 years. He was also coming home later than normal. So once you stormed out you went straight to their house crying. It was a huge fight. Luckily for you, you had kept your apartment.

It was getting late and you just wanted to go home and eat a pint of ice cream and watch some cheesy sappy movie. You didn't have to work that night or the next day which was great. That also meant you didn't have to see Connor tonight or tomorrow, you were a nurse at Med. You loved him you really did but you couldn't stand a cheater and weren't going to tolerate it. As you were driving you came to a stop at a red light, while stopped you answered some texts and then put your phone down. As you started to drive you noticed headlights coming to you on your left and they were coming fast. The next thing you knew metal was hitting metal and then your car was flipping. Your head hit the steering wheel and then the window. The airbag deployed hitting you and breaking your nose and throwing your head into the headrest.

Your adrenaline was wearing off and then all the pain hit you and you moaned in pain. There was glass everywhere. You felt blood running down your face and into your eye. You felt the most pain in your abdominal area. You carefully looked down and saw glass puncturing you. You tentatively touched it but knew better than to yank it out. You couldn't hardly breathe. All of sudden you felt another impact and you were being pushed into a telephone pole wrapping your car on the passenger side. You blacked out.

You only came to when you heard your name being called by a voice but didn't open your eyes. It sounded underwater. You wanted to answer but couldn't you just wanted to sleep.

"Y/N it's Kelly. Can you hear me?" Kelly, your other best friend asked but you didn't respond. "Y/N I really need you to open your eyes." He said and you tried oh you tried. You slowly started to crack them open. "There we go." He said once he saw them open.

"Kelly?" You asked slurred.

"Yea it's me. You were in an accident. We're going to get you out and to Med. Ok?" He asked and you groaned and your eyes begin to shut again. "Hey hey no no keep those eyes open." He said but your eyes were already closed. "Y/N, hey. Open those eyes for me, please." You actually complied this time. "There we go. How are you and Connor?" He asked not knowing of the situation.

"'Roke up." You said slurring your words that shocked him.

"Why did you two break up?" Kelly asked as he shouted orders to his team.

"Cheated." You said slurring your words again and then your eyes rolled into the back of your head and your head lulled to the side and Kelly caught you. This freaked Jim out but he had to keep calm.

Everyone worked with ease and carefulness but quickly to get you out. They all saw the damage and knew you would be critical. When they got you out they put you on a backboard and a gurney and loaded you up and you were on your way to Med.

When you got to Med you were unconscious and couldn't hear anything. You were breathing but barely and it was labored. You went to your little paradise where Connor and you never broke up instead you got married and started a family one boy and one girl, it was perfect.

---------------------------------------------------

Connor was having a good night, well as good as one can have when one breaks up with another. He had been heartbroken when you pulled away from his kisses and started to pull away from him. The fight kept playing in his head. You had been the one to break up with him. You had seen a text from another girl on his phone but what you didn't know was that the other girl was a married woman jeweler who was setting his grandma's diamond in a set so he could propose to you. The reason why he was coming home early was because he was making details on how to propose and where making sure it was perfect.

Connor was in the ED when the ambulance came rolling in. He didn't look up considering it was a normal part of ED but when Maggie gasped he looked up and his face drained. "Maggie please tell me that is not Y/N." He said almost pleading.

"I'm sorry Connor. Take her to Trauma 2 and make it fast." She yelled and she turned to Connor.

"Let me go." Connor said and Maggie looked hesitant. "There are no other available doctors at the moment. Let me do it." He pleaded.

"Fine." She said and he rushed in and started giving orders.

Connor was supposed to be getting off shift when you rolled around but now he just couldn't make himself leave. Not with knowing you were in major surgery to fix your abdominal aorta that glass had found itself embedded in.

They wheeled you into surgery where he scrubbed in. "Ok guys, she is one of us. We have to save her but we handle it just like every other surgery." Connor said and they nodded. They got to work. Everything was going smoothly until one of the surgery techs noticed a drop in stats.

"Dr. Rhodes. Her O2 is dropping and he looked up.

"Ok start bagging her and get those stats back up." He said and they nodded. Once they got your stats back up. But then your heart rate started to drop. The machine alerted them. He looked up and then looked down. It started lowering when he took the glass out and he started to move faster.

"Heart rate is dropping." The tech said and before anyone could say anything you started to flatline "She's flatlining." The tech said.

"Start compressions. I'm holding this aorta off so she doesn't bleed out." Connor said and that's what they did. "Give me a clamp." He demanded and they did and clamped off the aorta and had his go at compressions he was about to have them shock you but then your heart rate came back up. "Ok let's finish this quickly and get her into recovery." He demanded again and they did just that. "Just hold on, baby. I'm gonna get you out of here." He quietly told you and everybody else pretended not to hear him. "When she gets out of recovery and into a room let me know." He said and they nodded.

4 hrs is how long it took to repair the aorta. He was an absolute wreck. But he had stayed calm while doing the surgery. He had gotten changed and then went to the doctor's lounge and waited when one of the surgery techs came in to let him know you were out of recovery in a room. He asked what number and when they told him he was up and going to you. When he got there he looked at you and regretted everything. He pulled the uncomfortable blue plastic chair by your bedside and sat down. He grabbed your hand and stroked your knuckles, and every now and then kissed them. He just had to wait for you to wake up.

---------------------------------------------------

A consistent beeping is what woke you up. You had slowly opened your eyes but quickly slammed them shut when they met with harsh light. You then felt a weight on your hand and looked over to find the black haired, blued eyed man that you once called your boyfriend. He was sleeping and looked so peaceful but you needed to wake him up. "'Onnor." You said sleepily and he stirred until he woke up and at first he looked confused but then saw you were awake.

"Baby." He sighed out in relief. Your scrunched your nose up.

"I'm not your baby anymore, Connor. We broke up." You said and rolled your eyes which hurt. He sighed he wasn't going to fight with you, especially since you just got out of surgery. "What's the damage?" You asked moving due to uncomfortableness. He sighed.

"You have 4 broken ribs, a concussion, your abdominal aorta was torn but I was able to fix it. You have a hairline fracture on your right ankle. A sprained left wrist. Multiple cuts from the glass and a lot of bruising." He listed what was wrong and you stayed silent.

"What about the other driver?" You asked

"He was drunk and died on impact." He told you and you nodded.

"What about my car?" You asked again, you loved your car.

"I'm sorry. It's totaled. You'll have to get a new one." He said and you nodded and let a tear slip. "Are you ok?" He asked truly worried.

"Yea. I'm just going to miss that car." You said and he chuckled and smiled both of which you loved.

"We'll get you a new and better car." He said.

Dr. Goodwin came into your room and you looked up and smiled "Hi, Nurse Y/L/N. How are you feeling?" She asked.

"Sore. Just found out my beloved car was totaled." You said and everyone chuckled and smiled.

"I'm sorry to hear that. I'm came here to let you know you're going to have the next few weeks off to recover with pay and Connor is going to be allowed a few days off." She said and you looked confused.

"Why is that?" You asked her.

"Since you have nobody here he decided to be the one to look after you." She said

"That's not necessary. I can look after myself." You tried to defend yourself.

"You had a major surgery and will need someone to look after you. Connor volunteered." She said and you may not have liked it but agreed.

You spent a week in the hospital making sure everything was then you were released in Connor's care.

---------------------------------------------------

When you got to his apartment that night after your release it was slow going but he was ok with that. He was and has always been so patient with you. You hated that you broke up with him but you couldn't stand a cheater. You both got into the apartment and he had to settle down on the couch while he pampered you and got the bed ready and made you something to eat. He truly was the sweetest man ever. "If you need me for anything during the night wake me up, and I mean anything." He said and you nodded.

"You got it." You said. The two of you stayed up and watched some TV and you ate what was allowed. When and if you wanted to get up he was there helping you. You knew now why you first fell in love with this man.

This went on for a few weeks and your old feelings started to come back and you started to fall in love with him again. When he went back to work was the hardest but you managed and if you need something he said to call him, Hailey, Jay, or Kelly. You didn't call anybody because you were perfectly fine. You and Connor had been texted throughout the day. Most of your wounds, sprain, and fracture had healed. You still had stitches but they were due to come out soon.

One thing was on your mind and you couldn't get it off of your mind. That was why did he cheat. When you didn't text him back one day it was when he was finishing his shift and it was worrying him but stayed calm. Once out of the hospital he got into his car and drove home. He found you sitting outside on the terrace. You didn't hear him come in so you jumped when you touched you. "I'm sorry, Baby. I didn't mean to startle you." He said and you hadn't been correcting him when he said it. "What's wrong? You didn't text me back." He said and you sighed as he bent down looking at you.

"Why did you cheat?" You said just coming out and saying it.

"Baby, I didn't cheat on you." He said and you glared at him.

"Don't lie to me." You said and he sighed and hung his head.

"I'm not. Just hold on. Don't move." He said and you did what you were told, to be honest you were still sore and you didn't feel like moving.

"Don't walk away from me. Who the fuck is Samantha?" You yelled out after him but he returned with a black velvet box.

"I didn't cheat on you. Samantha is a married woman-" He started but you cut him off and threw your hands up which pulled on your stitches but you didn't care.

"So you cheated on me with a married woman? Why were you coming home so late? I loved you and still do." You said you hadn't noticed the black velvet box.

"You didn't let me finish. Samantha is married woman jeweler that was helping me set my grandmother's diamond into a ring. I was coming home late because Hailey and Ava were helping me pick out a perfect spot to propose that night you stormed out. Also you still love me?" He asked and you nodded your head.

"Yes. I still love you." You said and he kissed you. You gladly kissed him back.

"I love you too. I was going to make this special but with how you look under these lights and the sunset now is as good time as any. So, here it goes. Y/N Y/M/N Y/L/N I have loved you since the beginning. I have loved you since I laid my eyes on you. It was love at first sight for me. I knew you were the one right then and there. You are so special to me and when we broke up it broke me and when I saw you come into ED I was petrified. I don't want to lose you again. I want to grow old with you and have a family with you. So, will you make my dreams come true and make me the happiest man on earth and marry me?" He finished and was already kneeling on one knee as he pulled out the ring, it was a cut cornered princess cut with one diamond on each side, it was perfect. The way it glimmered under the light made it all more beautiful. You were crying and then you nodded your head.

"Absolutely, I will marry you. It'll make me the happiest woman in the world." He smiled and put the ring on your finger and gently grabbed your face and crashed his lips into yours. Everything was perfect.

---------------------------------------------------

When you were allowed to back to work you went with Connor and you were holding hands, everyone took notice of that. You both got changed and started your shift. You were told if you needed a break than you take it. The stitches had been removed but you didn't have your normal energy back just yet.

As the two of you walked out he left you at the desk and kissed you. "I'll see you later, fiancé." He said with a smile.

"Yes you will my soon to be husband." You smiled and he left. Everyone came up to you.

"So I take it you're back together." April said and you nodded and showed them the ring.

"More than back together. Engaged." You said and everyone squealed in excitement, the same way Hailey had done when you told her. They asked for details and you gave them. As they were talking to you, you saw Connor walk by with Will and Ethan and he smiled at you and winked which you returned.

Yea, everything was going to be ok. You had the man of your dreams and were about to start a life with him. It was perfect. You were finally in paradise.

Tag list:

@kmc1989

@els-marvelvsp

@atarmychick007

@nyx2021

[inkskinned]

i've been in pretty much constant pain for the past 4 months. i have a slipped disc. the mri this weekend finally confirmed what i'd already suspected. mostly, i just put up with it.

i've been in a pretty bad mental space since winter began. my brain is leaking out from between my ears. i just don't care enough to listen to the rabid wet whispering of hope. i'm mostly just bored of being here, the swaddled joyless apathy.

the back pain ebbs and flows, but it's there, so i take care of it. i do my physical therapy. i get in with a specialist. i'm lucky - there's no immediate need for surgery. it's bad, but it could be worse. when i talk about how i did it (it was a very bad sneeze), i usually start laughing. it's funny! i am never comfortable, but hey. i'm young. i'll bounce back, or so they keep saying.

i just found out it's not normal to wake up every night with a category-five panic attack. i'm lucky if i am still able to remember how to spell my name right. i spend my days in a weird blank haze, exhausted, desperate for respite - only to be unable to rest during the night. i say with a laugh - i really hate it when my mental illnesses start working together. i mean, sure. unionize. it's fine. i have lost all sense of myself. there's nowhere that's actually warm in my mind.

i feel bad how often i complain about my back. my friends immediately shush my apology. dude, you slipped a disc. continue complaining.

as a kid, i think i only really admitted to the bad things... twice. for some reason, when he didn't just dismiss it - it made my dad angry. he slammed a door at me. you're fucking ungrateful. what do you have to be sad for?

what an odd delight: the slipped disc gave me the oddest wave of relief. i'm allowed to actually hurt about this thing.

i have chronic conditions which aren't "real" things. i could write a novel on the weird ways people respond to my POTS & the rest of my fun physical acronyms. i am kind of ashamed to admit - i like the way it feels to be able to say well, because of a slipped disc. a slipped disc is a real thing. a slipped disc is serious and painful. there's diagrams and infographics about slipped discs. upon my diagnosis, they immediately offered me narcotics.

i haven't been able to get up out of bed for more than a few hours. i do less and less and less and less. i have started to sit down in the shower. sighing my way from deadline to deadline. this again. in one day and out the other. people tell me i don't really need my meds. i have run out of times saying i have depression, it's become almost transparent. it's so bad my therapist suggested meeting more than once a week, but i don't want to worry her, so i never finish setting up a second meeting. every creative spark in my soul has been entirely ravaged - but that's just capitalism, baby. i don't even take the day off of work. i just show up and do a bad job and get yelled at for it.

it's not real, after all. the pain is just imagined.

[oceans-goddess]

I don’t know if you would be open to this idea but a tmr newt imagine where the reader hurts her knee and now has a limp like newt and she is frustrated with it and it gets him to open up and it’s all fluffy??? I have just had knee surgery so I am being very self indulgent… again if you don’t want to no worries at all!!!

Author's note: Omg of course!!! Agh, I'm so excited, this is my first time responding to a request, so I hope you enjoy! Also, I wrote this really fckin fast, so I'm sorry if it's shit.

Guys, send in more requests! This was so fun to write!!!

Pairing: TMR Newt x reader

Warnings: mentions of suicide and death, leg injury

“This bloody knee!” you hissed, tossing your gardening tool to the side and pulling at your hair in frustration.

“Did you just say bloody? I must really be rubbing off on you” Newt said from above you. You gasped in surprise.

“Newt! What are you– aren’t you supposed to be talking with Alby right now?” You asked.

“Finished early. Not much to debrief today. Aren’t you supposed to be heading to lunch?”

Your boyfriend sat down beside you and picked up the tool you’d been using, toying with it as he waited for you to respond.

“I don’t think I’m gonna make it today. I’m running way, way behind. This piece of klunk knee brace won’t let me bend down to work, and Clint and Jeff refuse to let me take it off. I have to either stand straight or sit down, neither of which are fast enough to finish all this in time.”

You finished speaking with a huff, and Newt smiled beside you.

“Hey, that’s just what a brace is meant to do. You shouldn’t bend it until you’re all healed up. It’s only been a week, love.”

A week, you thought, recalling the accident that had occurred just a few days before:

“It should be all set. Just take it easy for a few weeks, y/n,” Jeff explained, helping you to stand and placing a rudimentary wooden crutch under one arm.

“And no more messing around climbing trees,” Clint warned, opening the door that led out of the med-jacks’ building where Newt waited. You nodded, but the comment stung your pride.

Earlier that morning, you had been sitting up in a tall oak tree in the deadheads. The location was morbid, you knew, but it was also quiet. A place to breathe. To think. If you sat up there long enough, it sometimes felt like the trees went on forever– like there were no walls, no maze, standing just yards away, separating you from the world beyond.

You’d been up there a while, and you knew your break would soon be over. The gardens needed tending, after all. That, and Newt would begin to worry and come looking. You knew he could handle himself, but the last thing you wanted was to see him struggle through the underbrush of the deadheads with his bad knee because of you.

You swung yourself off the branch you’d been sitting on and began making your way down the tree. As you placed your foot onto a small notch in the tree bark, the branch you held onto with your right hand snapped. You gasped, clawing at what was left of the branch, but your foot slipped, and suddenly you were falling to the side.

You let out a scream and braced yourself to hit the forest floor. Your right knee was the first part of your body to land, and it connected with a rock or a tree root– you weren’t sure. Your right shoulder slammed to the ground, though thankfully, it seemed that your knee had borne most of the brunt of the fall. Chest heaving, you slowly sat up and you tried lifting yourself off the ground. Pain surged through your leg, and a cry of agony escaped your lips. You sat back against the trunk of the tree for a moment, then tried to stand again. It was in vain– your leg couldn’t support you.

Just when you’d made your mind up to crawl back to the field where someone would see you and bring you to a med-jack, you heard a crunch of leaves nearby.

“Y/n?” Newt called frantically. When he saw you, the expression on his face made you want to disappear. His eyes were wide, and he cringed as he saw the way you held your leg. Others followed behind him. How he’d gotten here on his leg first, you didn’t know. Must’ve been the little piece of runner still left in him. He dropped down onto his knees beside you, calling out, “Bring the med-jacks, now!”

And then you wound up here, with a makeshift brace around your leg and a boyfriend that wouldn’t stop looking at you with that nauseatingly concerned expression on his face. It was all you could do not to scream in anger and humiliation.

You shook yourself out of the memory and turned away from Newt.

“I know the brace is helping. It’s just– it gets in the way. I’m so much slower than I was, so much less graceful, efficient, I feel… I feel like I just don’t operate like I used to. Like I’m supposed to. It’s so embarrassing. Like, everyone else is pulling their weight but me.”

It was quiet for a moment. Newt only watched as you clenched your fists together, but when he noticed that you were beginning to hold back tears, he reached over and rubbed your back.

“Hey, it’s alright. I understand. Sometimes I feel the same way about my own knee.”

At that, your stomach dropped, and you clapped a hand over your mouth. All the complaining you’d just done must’ve sounded so horrible– so inconsiderate– to him. You’d only been struggling for a week; his knee would trouble him for the rest of his life. And even then, he was trying to make you feel better, like always. That was what made you care so much about him. He always did what he could to make things easier for you, to comfort you, to make you happy.

“I’m so sorry,” you breathed.

“It’s okay, honestly. It’s alright.” Newt scooted closer to you and draped his arm over your shoulder. You leaned into him and took in his warmth, his earthy smell. 

“Can I tell you something kind of sad?” he asked, his voice only a whisper. You didn’t know where this was going, but you nodded silently. Newt took a deep breath beside you.

“Aah, okay… you know I used to be a runner and everything, right? Before my knee?”

You nodded again, looking up at him. His brown eyes gazed down into yours with a mixture of affection and anxiety, but he continued on.

“Well, I don’t really ever talk about how I hurt my knee. It’s…” he swallowed. “it’s hard to talk about it now.” He shifted uncomfortably beside you, but you waited patiently.

“I… I really hated it here for a long time. It’s alright now, I’ve sort of made my peace with living here, in a way, but I just couldn’t take being trapped in this box. It drove me mad. One day, while I was on a run, I climbed up some of the vines and ended up on top of one of the maze walls.”

You could hear his heart beating faster now as you leaned against his chest. The next words out of his mouth were barely a whisper.

“I knew this wasn’t what I wanted. I couldn’t stand it. And I… I jumped.”

You gasped and sat up, looking into his face for more information. He only looked back at you with the most heartbreaking expression you’d ever seen on him.

“I wanted to be done. With it all. But, much to my resentment at the time, Alby found me. Dragged me back into the glade just before the doors closed. They fixed me up. I spent about a month under constant supervision from Clint and Jeff, and then I wasn’t allowed to be alone for another few weeks. Everyone thought I’d try again. I… I wanted to.

“It was even worse with my bum leg. Everything was harder, more irritating. I felt more useless every day.”

Hot tears rolled down your face. Newt brought up one hand and wiped them away with his thumb before kissing your forehead.

“I’m so sorry, Newt,” you whispered, and he pulled you in for a tight embrace.

“It’s alright, love,” he whispered back. “Things have gotten better since then. I found I was pretty good at gardening, and now, here I am. Made some new friends as well. And, of course, I met you.”

Newt pulled away and brought his hand back up to your face, resting his palm against your cheek.

“And I promise you I’m here to stay.”

You let out a quiet sob and pulled him in for a kiss. Your lips met passionately, and you ran your fingers through his dirty blond hair. He was as gentle, as loving, as always. When you pulled away, he was smiling.

“Another thing that’s changed though,” he began, “is that I’m seriously afraid of heights now. That fear extends to you. So please, love, please, I’m begging you. No more climbing trees. I almost had a heart attack when I heard you scream”

You let out a surprised laugh before responding.

“Okay, honey. Don’t worry. No more climbing trees. I promise.”

“Good,” he said with a nod. “Now– let’s go get some lunch. We’ll worry about the garden later.”

[alaydabug2]

Tag list: @sparklenarniawizard @imobsessed123 @thoughtlescat @ilikebookssomuch

Broken heart/Broken mind

Chapter Fifty-nine

(Human AU)

Sophie and Keefe met in the children's hospital when they were little. Because of how long they were confined to the four walls of the hospital, they became very close during their stay.

As the years pass, they wind up being in the same classroom together due to their physical conditions. This makes their bond deepen.

But are they able to handle when life gets tough, throwing problems and complications their way?

When Sophie finally checked her notifications from the day when she sat down in the car, she choked on her water she was drinking.

It was a text message from Ro saying, 'Hey. Keefe's finally awake.'

When she made sure she didn't drown herself on her water bottle, she started the car. She ignored the speed limit and just hoped she wouldn't get pulled over.

For once in her life, her wish worked out.

By the time she got to cardiology, she was panting out of breath from running all the way there. Still, she paused when she got to the door.

She pushed through her nerves and opened the door. She sucked in a breath.

Ro looked up at her and gave a wry smile. She glanced back down to Keefe. His eyes were open now, staring blank at the wall.

Sophie sat down beside the bed and took his hand.

"Hey Keefe," she whispered. "How do you feel?"

He never looked away from the spot on the wall. She glanced nervously at Ro.

"He's alright," She assured her. "He's just... not really himself, right now."

Oh, Sophie could imagine. But that didn't explain why he wasn't acknowledging anything around him.

She brushed his hair back from his forehead. That seemed to get his attention. His eyes lazily found hers. He stared at her for a moment before closing his eyes.

After a few seconds, he let out a groan and rolled toward Sophie on his side. Ro leaned forward and rubbed his back.

"The nurse should be back soon," she told him. "He'll have you some pain meds."

"Has he said anything since waking up," Sophie asked.

"A little," Ro told her. "He asked where he was and what happened. Repeated my name a few times. Other than that, he's been silent."

The door opened, and Elwin came through the door, wheeling in a sonogram machine. He went to the IV pole and placed a new bag on it. While he was getting set up, Keefe seemed to calm down and roll back onto his back.

Sophie moved out of the way and joined Ro on the other side of the bed. Elwin helped Keefe pull down his hospital gown for the Echo.

Elwin took the doppler and squeezed the gel on it before taking it to Keefe's chest. Sophie looked at the monitor when an image popped up on the screen.

The heartbeat sounded strange. She couldn't quite point out what it was about it, but she was afraid of the implications of it.

"Is his heart supposed to sound like that?" She finally had to ask.

"Oh, that's just a murmur," Elwin informed. "It's when blood tries to go back out when a valve closes. It's usually harmless." He turned to Ro. "I'm going to assume that he's had that for a while."

"He has," she confirmed.

After a few more minutes, Ro shifted and turned to Sophie. She glanced out the door. Sophie took the hint and followed her outside.

"Ok," Ro sighed. "Don't tell Keefe this yet, but I need to talk to you about something."

"Ok," she said slowly. "What is it?"

Ro leaned against the door. "Well... they already did a catheter when he first got here to temporarily help with his blood flow, but... it's not going to be a permanent solution. His artery is really weak, and it was collapsing in on itself, causing the blockage. They're going to have to do a bypass on him."

It took her a minute to realize what that meant. "They're... going to have surgery on him?"

She nodded. "They want to also try and replace his valve while he's opened up so he doesn't need another one just for that in like, two years. But... I know he's probably not going to take it very well. I just figured I should let you know what's going on. "

"Thank you," Sophie told her. "I'll keep quiet. Do you know when they're planning it for?"

"They're shooting for the end of this week. Probably this Thursday or Friday. They're trying to get it done quickly so the artery doesn't have a chance to close itself off again. The stint will only be able to do so much."

She nodded. "Tell me when, please. I want to be there."

"Of course." Ro wrapped an arm around Sophie and gave her a squeeze. She glanced toward the door. "We should probably head back inside."

Sophie nodded her agreement.

[sleekervae]

New York Romantic .9

Masterlist

a/n: Thanks for your patience, everyone! This was inspired by the very real and scary experience of having my own appendix out just a few weeks ago, and I'm happy to report that I'm doing great and my stitches are healing very well! Happy reading!!

pairing: Tom Blyth x ballerina!oc

summary: noelle goes to the hospital

warnings: mentions of surgery, hospitals

word count: 3,948

taglist: @watercolorskyy @carolanns-world @alana4610

"Hello Tom,

I hope this letter finds you well. We are thrilled to inform you that after reviewing your demo tape, we would like to offer you a screen-test for our upcoming movie, "Scott and Sid"..."

Tom could barely believe what he was reading. He had nearly forgotten about the demo tape he'd sent to the open casting months ago, a long shot to get hired for a movie that would be filming over his summer home.

Home.

He would be back in England in just over a month. Classes had been pushing for weeks, final assignments, performances, term reviews. Not to mention Tom had another play coming up. He would be home before he knew it, back in his own house, back with his mum and sister, his old mates, everything that he knew and loved.

And yet, he wanted the days, the minutes even to drag on. He couldn't find it in him to leave New York just yet.

He knew it was silly, he'd lay in his bed at night and scold himself for being so lackadaisical. He couldn't help it though. Right across the hall from him was the object of his affection; just within his grasp and yet so out of reach. His classes had helped him so much with his confidence, Tom truly felt if they hadn't been interrupted that he truly could have kissed Noelle. He was still kicking himself for having wasted the time, but then that's what he always did.

Tom moved to New York to prove something to himself. He had great desires to become an actor, to tell the stories that needed to be told, to change perspectives, and of course, to hopefully make his father proud.

A sudden, urgent knocking erupted from his door, "Tom! Open up!" he heard Sunny's panicked voice through the wood.

Without even closing his laptop, Tom rushed over and swung open the door, "What's wrong, mate?"

Sunny stood there, eyes wide and heels bouncing as he explained breathlessly, "Noelle needs to go to the hospital. The ambulance just pulled up,"

Tom's heart leaped into his throat at Sunny's words. Without a second thought, he grabbed his keys and rushed out the door, following Sunny down the stairs to where the ambulance was parked outside. Noelle was already being loaded onto a stretcher, her face pale and eyes closed.

A group of concerned faces were gathered in the lobby, their eyes glued to the commotion outside. Bianca stood among them, her usually aloof demeanour now filled with worry. As soon as Tom spotted her, he hurried over.

"Bianca! What's going on?" he asked, his voice laced with panic.

Bianca grimly shrugged, "She woke up in pain and she got really sick. They think it's her appendix," she looked off, shaking her head, "I gotta -- I gotta call Stanis. Our final performance is in two weeks. Fuck..."

Tom watched helplessly as the paramedics closed up the ambulance doors, the siren already wailing before they took off into the busy street. 

Noelle couldn't pinpoint when exactly it started, all she knew was she woke up with the most intense stomach ache of her life, promptly followed by a bad case of nausea. She barely made it to the bathroom before she hurled out what little she had in her stomach, and even after the pain was brutal. Bianca woke up after hearing her wretching and despite Noelle's assurances she just needed to rest, Bianca immediately called the paramedics.

So now she was here, snuggled up under a thin hospital blanket with blaring ceiling lights. Her pyjamas had been traded out for a blue gown, pain meds were shoved into her hands, blood and urine samples were taken from her, and now all she had to do was wait... and wait... and wait...

Bianca and Iseul had cabbed down right after, with Iseul never leaving her side while Bianca phoned Noelle's family. Noelle usually didn't like to be fussed over, but she was grateful for her friends help nevertheless.

"Do you want some more water?" Iseul asked, her usual pristine face was marred with under eye circles.

"I'm okay," Noelle nodded, smiling gratefully.

"Are you still feeling sick?" Iseul asked again, nodding to the wall behind their heads, "They got these little blue sick bags if you need one,"

"I'm fine, Iseul," Noelle assured her, "Honestly, I could go home right now. Those pain meds are frigging magical,"

Bianca scoffed back at that, "No chance, I'm afraid. I heard the docs say they wanna' send you for an ultrasound," she said.

Iseul raised a brow, "But she's not pregnant... right?" she glanced at Noelle. Noelle shook her head.

"No, I am not pregnant," she confirmed, "They just want to see what's going on in there, I guess,"

"Exactly," Bianca took a seat next to Iseul, her stare endearing, "You're gonna' be just fine. Appendicitis is a really common procedure these days,"

"And hey! You might have a cool scar to show off after!" Iseul piped in, trying to come off optimistic.

"Maybe," Noelle shook her head, "... We got our final showcase in two weeks. If they have to operate --"

"We'll figure something out," Iseul assured her, "Stanis is gonna' be here after his morning class, we'll talk about it then,"

"What's more important right now is your health," Bianca nodded.

As the curtain was pulled back, the girls' attention was drawn to Tom and Sunny peering in.

"Can we come in?" Tom asked with a playful smile.

Bianca raised an eyebrow, but Iseul eagerly answered, "Of course!"

To say Noelle was happy to see them was an understatement, she was relieved. She was also curious about the small bouquet of flowers Tom had in his hand.

"What are you guys doing here? Shouldn't you be in class?" she asked.

Tom waved away her concern, "Nah, it's just rehearsal today. We can make it up later,"

Bianca couldn't help but ask, "How did you manage to get past the front desk?"

Sunny proudly replied, "Tom pretended to be Noelle's brother, he's got quite the impressive American accent," and he slapped Tom on the back, jolting the young lad forward.

"Yeah, well... I tried to be as charming and concerned as I could -- not to say I'm not concerned, we were all very concerned for you, Noelle," he explained, flustered.

"I appreciate that, Tom," she simpered back.

"We would've been here earlier, but Tom wanted to make a pit stop," Sunny added, nudging him with his elbow.

Tom smiled sheepishly and held up the bouquet, a small but colourful collection of pink daisies and white tulips wrapped in brown paper and a big pink ribbon, "It didn't seem right to come here without a get-well-soon gift," he glanced at the flowers, "Though I now realize I should've bought a vase as well,"

A small, happy smile spread across Noelle's face as she felt a warmth emanating from her chest, "It's okay, I love them. Thank you,"

To say it broke Tom's heart to see her like this was an understatement. Seeing her hooked up to an IV and surrounded by flimsy white curtains had him anxious to see her out of here. But as she flashed him a smile, he felt grateful that she was okay. She was glowing with happiness, as if this were just another day spent together, not one in a hospital ward. That being said, he couldn't quell the gnawing fear he had for her prognosis.

"So, what did the doctors say?" Sunny asked, crossing his arms over his chest.

"They're gonna send me for some more tests, but they're pretty confident it's my appendix," Noelle replied.

"I don't understand why they need to test her more if they already know what the problem is," Iseul shrugged.

"Because they wanna' make sure there's nothing else causing her pain after she leaves," Bianca replied shortly, "How stupid are they gonna' look if they take out her appendix and not the tumour growing on her ovaries?"

The boys were taken aback, "Wait -- you've got a tumour?" Tom asked.

"No," Noelle shook her head, "Bianca's just saying -- they wanna' be sure they know what's wrong before they go and cut into me," she explained, her voice trailing grimly.

"So... so you're gonna' need a surgery," Tom noted. Noelle nodded solemnly.

"What about your dance show?" Sunny asked, "You'll be fine in a couple weeks, right?"

"We don't know, yet," Bianca shrugged, "We're gonna' decide when Stanis gets here,"

"The show's gonna' go on, with or without me," Noelle said, turning to her fellow dancers, "You have to,"

"But you're our Giselle!" Iseul said, "We need you!"

"It's gonna' be kind of hard to prance around on stage if she starts bleeding through her costume," Bianca huffed.

"Do you have an understudy?" Tom asked Noelle.

Bianca nodded, "Yeah, me," her response was quick and confident. Her tone turned smug and she seemed to be boasting a little. Tom didn't appreciate her attitude, but he kept his thoughts to himself.

"And she's gonna do great," Noelle nodded. She was either none the wiser to Bianca's smugness or didn't care to placate her.

"Yeah, but it won't be the same without you, Noelle," Iseul gushed, either clueless to Bianca's subtle glare or she generally didn't care.

"Oh please, you guys will be great. And I'll still be here to cheer you on from the sidelines," Noelle added, her smile not quite reaching her eyes. Uncertainty weighed heavily on her mind as she tried to remain positive for her friends.

"Have you eaten anything?" Tom asked.

Noelle shook her head, "They won't give me food, right now. In case they operate today,"

"I don't understand why they can't let you eat anything," Sunny chimed in.

"So she won't vomit during the surgery," Iseul replied.

"But if you're asleep, how is your body going to know it's going to be sick?" he asked.

"Don't think too hard about it," Bianca told him, "You'll hurt yourself,"

"I keep telling these two to go eat," Noelle interjected, pointing to the girls.

"And we're not leaving you alone," Bianca retorted.

"... a turkey sandwich sounds pretty good right now, though," Iseul muttered.

"And how fair is it that we get to eat and she doesn't?" Bianca replied.

Tom piped in, "Well... if you guys want to get something to eat, we can stay here," he said.

Bianca shook her head, "Mmm, I don't know,"

Noelle gave her a pointed look, "Oh, c'mon. You guys need to eat,"

"But what about you?" Bianca protested.

"I have my IV!" Noelle held up her arm connected to the fluids bag.

Iseul stood up from her chair, "Okay deal. We'll go get something to eat, and the boys can keep an eye on you," she declared, pointing to them.

Sunny glanced at Tom, a mischievous glint in his eyes as he chimed in, "Mind if I come too?"

Iseul cut off Bianca before she could respond, "Of course not! Tom, can we get you anything while we're out?"

Tom waved them off with a kind smile, "No thanks, I'm good for now,"

Bianca relented, standing up with Iseul and grabbing her jacket, "You call us if the doctors come back, or if anything happens -- just call us," she told Tom, pointing at his chest.

"Oh, please. I'm not dying," Noelle protested.

Tom nodded nevertheless, "I'll take good care of her," he promised.

The three of them filed out of the ward, leaving Tom to take a seat on one of the chairs, gingerly placing the colourful bouquet beside him. Noelle's face lit up with a warm smile as she gazed at him, her eyes sparkling with genuine affection.

"I'm really glad to see you," she said.

"I'm really glad to see you," he grinned back, "I can't imagine how scared you must've been,"

"I mean -- I've had better Tuesdays," she chuckled gingerly, "I hope Bianca didn't panic you too much,"

"Nah, the ambulance accomplished that quite well," he replied, "You look better, though!"

"I feel better!" she nodded, "Crazy what Tylenol and antibiotics can do in two hours,"

"Did you call your family?"

"Bianca did. Maurice is probably scouring the internet for standby tickets," she shook her head, "Are you sure you're okay being here? The last few weeks of school are critical! And you’re still only a first year—"

“Hey,” he interrupted, placing his hand over hers and giving it a gentle squeeze. “It’s okay. I wouldn’t be able to concentrate on anything else. You are my priority,”

Noelle’s heart did a complicated dance in her chest. The logical part of her brain screamed guilt, he had so much to do, he didn't need to be here worrying about her. Yet, the warmth of his hand over hers, the sincerity in his eyes, made her pulse quicken in a way she couldn’t ignore. Tom’s presence was a balm to her anxious mind, a constant that steadied her when everything else felt like it was spinning out of control.

Tom’s gentle squeeze brought her back to the present. “Thank you,” she whispered, her voice barely audible. The gratitude was genuine, but so was the turmoil. She hoped he couldn’t see the confusion in her eyes, the war between wanting to tell him to go back and rehearse and the undeniable comfort his presence provided. She managed a small smile, the weight of her feelings pressing down but also lifting her up in a strange, dizzying way.

"I've got some great news," he said softly, a renewed excitement filling his gaze.

"Tell me!" Noelle grinned.

"I got a screen-test for a movie!"

"Shut up!..."

Noelle was taken for emergency surgery that evening, having to stay a night at the hospital after. Her stomach now had a different type of throbbing ache within it, along with three large gauze pads taped across her stomach, and her throat was sore from the anaesthesia and intubation. But at least she could finally eat.

The world had to continue on, nevertheless. Sunny had an upcoming solo exhibition, and he was practicing night and day practically. He tried to keep it down for Tom, who was equally rehearsing and practicing his lines with Jordan for their upcoming play.

And of course, Noelle's incisions wouldn't heal in time for her final showcase, so sure enough Stanis gave the part of Bianca. Bianca was ecstatic of course, she was gone most days rehearsing. And while Noelle was happy for her friend, she wished Bianca wouldn't boast and brag so much about getting the part.

Tom made sure to carve out time for Noelle, even if it meant spending hours on the couch watching movies. He would sit beside her, his presence a gentle reassurance that she wasn’t alone. Noelle’s guilt piled up like the blankets she huddled under. She didn’t want to be a distraction from the mountain of work she knew he had, but the comfort he provided was undeniable, sweet and soothing in a way she hadn’t expected.

When she voiced her concerns, her worries tumbling out about how he should be focusing on his studies, Tom would simply smile, his eyes crinkling at the corners.

“Don’t worry,” he’d say, meaning it every time. He could see the guilt in her eyes, the way she fretted about his workload, but her well-being was what mattered most to him. His words were like a warm blanket themselves, wrapping around her and easing her guilt.

She’d gaze at him, a mixture of gratitude and something deeper swirling in her chest. Watching him, his focus entirely on her, made her heart flutter. The way he laughed at the movies, the way he instinctively knew when she needed another pillow or a sip of water—it was all so effortlessly thoughtful. Each moment spent with him, every gentle touch and reassuring word, made her feelings for him grow stronger.

Noelle found herself savoring these hours, the quiet, shared moments where the world outside faded away, leaving just the two of them. Tom’s presence was a balm to her healing body and her heart, his dedication making her feel cherished in a way she hadn’t anticipated. Tom felt his heart flutter every time she looked at him with those big, beautiful eyes. Her recovery wasn’t just about her getting better—it was about them growing closer. Each shared smile, each moment of silence, deepened the bond between them.

Since Bianca was cast as Giselle, the performance date was moved up, giving her extra time to practice and become comfortable in the role. However, to Tom's dismay, he noticed the new poster for the show in the hall one afternoon, revealing that the new date conflicted with his own performance night. Even if Noelle wasn't going to be in the show, he still wanted to go with her and support her. And she had equally been so excited to see his play...

"Oh, they're only an hour apart!" Noelle exclaimed, having been shown the flyer by Tom, "I can start at the recital, then I'll come see your play!"

Tom was flicking through take out menus, trying to decide what they should order for dinner, "Yeah, but we're on opposite sides of the campus," he reminded her, "Don't you think it might be a bit much for you?"

Noelle simpered, "Tom, I had my appendix out, I wasn't hit by a bus. I can walk," she assured him, "Besides, you've sacrificed so much time for me, it's the least I can do!"

"Hey, c'mon," he took a seat beside her, "You act like taking care of you is such a big hardship. Besides, if anything I'm getting more studying done here,"

"Oh? How?" she quirked a brow at him.

"Simple. I watch movies with you, I learn more about acting," he smiled back.

She snorted back, "What kind of acting are you gonna' learn from Jason Statham? How to do the blue steel while sky diving?"

"Hey! Practicing cool is an important acting skill," he reminded her.

"Yeah, like you need to practice being cool," she replied.

"I knew you would agree," he smirked back, he then held up the stack of menus, "Sushi or Pizza?"

"Sushi! Obviously!" she gawked back playfully.

"Usual combo?"

"Yes, please. I'll get the money," she started to rise from the couch.

"Uh -- no," Tom put his hand out, "You sit down, I'll get it,"

Noelle scoffed, "Absolutely not! You got it last time!"

"And I don't mind getting it again," after all, she hadn't been back to work since her operation; she wasn't supposed to be lifting anything heavy and a bowling ball was certainly out of the question.

Nevertheless, as much as she appreciated Tom's concern, Noelle was still just a little bit more stubborn, "Okay -- we'll go halvies, then. Deal?"

"Deal,"

Noelle grabbed her wallet from her room and returned to find Tom already on the phone with the restaurant. He was hunched over, phone wedged between his ear and shoulder, as he flicked through the menu options. He looked so natural, so effortlessly at ease, like he belonged there. With her.

But as Noelle settled back into her seat, a wave of realization hit her. Tom would be leaving in a few weeks, gone all summer back to England. He had projects, a life over there, an actual home. The overthinking began. Did he prefer England to New York? Would he go back and decide he didn’t want to return?

The thought twisted in her chest, a knot of anxiety that she couldn’t quite shake.

When Tom got off the phone he noted the look on her face; the spaced-out frown, the mindless chewing on her inner cheeks. "What's wrong?" he asked, "The stitches aren't bothering you, are they?"

"What? No!" Noelle replied quickly, "I was just thinking... I need to get more medical tape," it wasn't a complete lie, all she had was the few dressings the nurses had given her.

"Oh," in his gut he didn't quite believe her, but he also didn't want to push her either, "Well, I can see if Doris has some. Worst case we can go out and get some! Pharmacy's down the block,"

She smiled back at him, damn, why are your eyes so pretty? "We'll go on a little adventure after dinner,"

The sushi arrived within the hour, and despite Tom's concern for her health and stamina, he and Noelle laced up their shoes and headed out for the pharmacy. It was a late spring evening, the weather already turning pleasant, with trees sprouting buds and blossoms scattered across the streets. Tom didn’t say a word when Noelle’s hand slipped into his, nor did Noelle protest much when Tom offered her his coat as the breeze picked up.

On the way back, though, he noticed her starting to lag behind. Her exhaustion was catching up to her, and her stitches were beginning to itch. Noelle didn’t mind the walk, she just had to go a little slower than she would’ve liked. She was pleasantly surprised when Tom offered her a piggyback ride. Despite her insistence that she’d be okay, she knew he could be just as stubborn as she was.

Tom crouched down, presenting his back to Noelle with a silent invitation. She hesitated for a moment, a small smile playing on her lips, before gently climbing onto his back. As her arms wrapped around his neck, she could smell the faint scent of his cologne mixed with the fresh, earthy aroma of the spring evening. His warmth radiated through the thin fabric of his shirt, instantly making her feel more at ease.

Tom stood up slowly, adjusting her weight, his hands steady and strong under her thighs. Noelle nestled her chin on his shoulder, her cheek brushing against the soft, worn fabric of his shirt. She could feel the rhythmic rise and fall of his breathing, a comforting and steady cadence that matched the slow, deliberate pace of their walk. The scent of city life in the air mingled with the subtle notes of Noelle's floral shampoo, creating a blend that was both calming and familiar.

They moved in perfect sync, Tom’s strides even and unhurried to accommodate her. Noelle's hair, tousled by the evening breeze, tickled his neck, and every now and then, she’d shift slightly, causing a gentle tug on his shirt. The intimacy of the moment wrapped around them like a soft blanket, each step punctuated by the muffled sounds of their shoes against the pavement.

Tom’s back was solid and reassuring beneath her, a silent promise of support. Noelle’s heartbeat, slow and steady, drummed against his back, syncing with his own. They didn’t need words; the quiet was filled with the sound of their shared breaths, the distant hum of the city, and the rustling leaves overhead.

As they walked, Tom occasionally glanced back, his eyes catching hers with a tender, reassuring glint. Noelle would respond with a squeeze of her arms, a silent acknowledgment of the unspoken bond between them. The warmth of his body, the gentle sway of his gait, and the closeness they shared in that moment made her feel cherished and protected.

By the time they reached home, Noelle was almost dozing, lulled by the gentle motion and the comfort of being so close to him. Tom carefully lowered her to the ground, their eyes meeting once more in a silent exchange of gratitude and affection. The connection between them felt stronger, their shared moment a sweet memory etched into the fabric of their relationship.

[mountainsandmayhem]

Hello - it’s your favorite green beagle 🐶

If you feel up to it, I’d dearly love a piece where Joel is taking care of reader after they’ve had abdominal surgery. Reader is a fiercely independent person, and is always the one who is the caregiver and it is incredibly hard for her to ask for and accept any help. She always feels like she’s being a bother, intrusive, or that people truly don’t want to help her.

But her current situation is forcing her to do exactly that, and it’s making her very vulnerable and emotional, because she feels like she doesn’t deserve this level of care (lots of past baggage there).

She’s also afraid that Joel maybe won’t want her anymore after seeing her like this, and he tells her and shows her (the best he can in her current condition) that absolutely isn’t true.

Thanks you so much for your time & talent - love you and your work so much 💚💜💙🩷

Hi beautiful.

I don’t want you to think that I am ignoring your ask. I’ve been racking my brain on how to write this and I just don’t feel like anything I can come up with can do justice to such a personal journey.

That being said, Joel would have booked vacation from work and would have taken you shopping the day before so you could have all of your favourite things at your fingertips. He knows you’re not going to ask for help, so he’ll set up everything you need where it won’t be too strenuous for you. He’d be kind and encouraging, offering to get you anything and then understand if you said you can do it yourself.

He’d have an alarm set for your meds because it really does break his heart to see you in pain. Once you’re in the all clear for physical activity, if ya know what I mean, he’d take it at your pace. Not removing anything you didn’t want him too, but praising and worshipping you the entire time. “You’re the strongest woman I know”, “I’m so in awe of you, baby”, “I love you so much”. You know. All the ooey gooey praise.

Anyway, I digress. I hope you’re doing well and are starting to feel better.

[brostateexam]

Dave and Buster are no longer tending to eggs. On the off chance that any miraculous babies appear, I will let you know.

Otherwise, things are chill over here. It's the last day of work for me until the week after Thanksgiving. My boss has realized that a thing I have been telling him since literally this time last year is true and that this scope is way, way too big for one person to do all by themselves. In the meantime, what that means is I am picking work back up from one of my colleagues that I was supposed to be divested from permanently, but no matter.

Meanwhile, people from two other groups at work have approached me and encouraged me to apply to higher level positions that are opening up on their teams. I'm a bit torn because I love my scope and I would love an opportunity to lead a bunch of the functions my current group has open, but I fundamentally don't really want to continue reporting to my current boss, and I feel like if I put in the work and keep plugging away l at it, what I want is 2-3 years away, minimum, if it happens at all. I'd rather return to managing a team and doing more high level stuff (with a corresponding pay increase, perhaps) than hoping that [Big Corp] will give me what I want.

My pain from my oral surgery is at like a 4 with the painkillers instead of like a 7 or an 8 last night, so I'm pleased with that. Hopefully, the recovery won't be too wretched and both of my implants will root into my jaw properly so I can get some crowns placed next year.

Miss California is on a new med regimen of trazodone and gabapentin to keep her nice and sedate while she waits out her bones healing but so far she's been recovering like a champion. Praying that her time to recovery is on the shorter end at 6 weeks instead of the longer end at 10 so that by New Year's she can be free to roam about the house.

[possibilistfanfiction]

legitimately fuckin obsessed with the avatrice football au my dude. that last snippet brought me pure JOY im tellin you what

[well here's some ava pov while i procrastinate ch3 plot lol, s/o to @unicyclehippo for the worst/best gay pun of all time, love u. honestly this is long enough to put on ao3 so ... i'll do that in a footy au series i suppose for context... justice for chanel lol]

///

waking up from your first surgery is a blur, mostly an inexplicable terror when you can’t feel your legs, when you can barely move your fingers. tears leak from your eyes and you can’t wipe them, can only let them roll down into your temples. but then there’s a hand in yours, and chanel’s comforting touch, her voice soft.

‘it’ll be okay, ava,’ she says.

it won’t be okay, you’re certain of it, because you’d been taken straight from the field to the hospital, and then right into surgery, your kit cut off so that they didn’t move your spine more than you already had. you love football; you love football, the feeling of being so at home in your body, the feeling of going fast and the delight of the burn in your muscles, of not being afraid of anything.

‘i’m really scared.’ you look at chanel, showered and gorgeous, in a team issued bomber that seems impossibly elegant, even now. 

‘yeah,’ she grants, swipes her thumb against your cheeks and into your hair, catching your tears. she grabs a tissue and wipes your nose, which, from anyone else, would be absolutely horrifying, but she does it with so little fanfare and you’re in pain and also not pain — the worse option — you can’t even really care. she’s your favorite teammate: kind and brave and funny. she’s your friend. ’you’re gonna get through this, though.’

‘i don’t — i don’t want to.’

you don’t even quite know what you mean, still out of it because of pain meds and anesthesia, but chanel sighs gently.

‘you will. one day, you will.’

/

you don’t, not for a long time. after your fifth surgery you kind of tell yourself that you’ve definitely given up on football; they move you to a long-term rehab facility specifically for spine injuries, which is better than the hospital for sure, but it’s still hours and hours of physical and occupational therapy that leaves you feeling discouraged more often that not. once the inflammation starts to go down in your spine, you start to, at least, regain some function in your arms and hands, and after your sixth surgery, things are, you’ll admit, more hopeful. at the very least, you’ll be able to do things like use a manual chair and cook and type emails. 

you’re not great at texting yet; your occupational therapist is always telling you that if you worked on writing, and holding cutlery, and even more boring, pointless shit like pick up sticks, you’d have an easier time, but, whatever, you can type with the pointer finger of your right hand and it gets the job done. chanel visits as often as she can, most days in the late morning, which feels particularly generous in the off season when she could be being glamorous somewhere else, probably invited to paris fashion week or something. she brings makeup — expensive, beautiful makeup — and doesn’t seem to care when you clumsily fuck up lipstick or poke your eye with a mascara wand. you know she brings it so you actually do your occupational therapy exercises, but she also brings you changes of comfortable clothes and washes your hair gently every few days. she lies back in bed with you, long limbed and beautiful, and watches matches when you don’t feel too sad. 

a few days after your eighth surgery, your last, according to your neurosurgeon, you wear a giant back brace over your beatrice xin jersey, your favorite player to watch, and your physical therapy team gets you strapped into this harness that connects to the ceiling so you can try to walk on the treadmill and for sure won’t fall. it kind of feels like you’re doing a stunt or something, and chanel stands there and indulges you with a smile while you make all of your best ‘strapped into a harness’ jokes.

and then — you do walk. it’s slow going, the treadmill barely moving, and your legs feel sluggish and so weak and almost not like your own. it’s been two months since you took a step and it feels like a fucking miracle. chanel wipes a tear or two from her own eyes, even though you can only walk for five minutes and are sweating kind of profusely — it’s a fucking miracle, and she understands it too. 

/

‘what are you frowning at?’

she rolls her eyes and pockets her phone, easily pedaling with insane resistance on the peleton next to you while you struggle to get your legs to listen to your brain and pedal at all. ‘idiot bros on twitter. “trans women don’t belong in women’s sports” and all that bullshit.’

you stop trying to pedal because you’re already entirely unsuccessful today and now you’re not able to focus at all. ‘fuck them.’

she grins. ‘yeah.’

‘i’ll beat them up, just you watch.’

it makes her laugh, and you think she knows you really would physically get into a fight — on or off the field — if anyone ever said anything to her. 

‘plus, i can take you 1v1.’

‘in your dreams, silva.’

‘i’m going to, again. don’t even think i won’t.’

chanel pats your hand; you feel it all. ‘i’ve always known you could do it. i’ve never thought you wouldn’t, ava.’

you duck your head, unused to genuine praise after all this time stuck in the same boring, discouraging, painful rooms at the spine center, even though all of your doctors and nurses and therapists had been nice.

‘but,’ she says, ‘first you gotta pedal on this bike.’

‘it’s hard,’ you whine.

‘you’re just distracted.’

you look at the game you’d turned on, beatrice xin currently with two goals and two assists, and sigh. ‘i’m horny.’

it gets the biggest, best laugh out of chanel, and you feel a little something like pride bloom in your chest: you love making people you care about laugh. 

‘fine, fine,’ you grumble. you look down at your feet, your quads and calves so small and pale compared to six months ago; you try to breathe through the immediate fear and the tiny bit of shame that pops up. but you focus, feel your feet firmly on the pedals, think about how you know how to ride a bike; you know how to stand up straight and put on pants and kick a ball. the back brace you have on feels tight, feels restricting — but you focus on activating your quads, then your hamstrings, and you eventually get the pedals to move.

‘hell yeah,’ chanel says.

‘if you try to give me a high five right now i think i’ll get all scrambled if i try to move my hand.’

she laughs, reaches over and pats the top of your head instead. 

/

‘ava silva,’ chanel says, and you grin; you can’t help it. she holds her phone at a, thankfully, flattering angle as you walk along the beach — slowly, but steady: you trust you won’t fall, that you’re strong enough and getting stronger. ‘what does freedom feel like?’

chanel has like… three million followers, and she loves social media, something that your old club has always been thrilled about. they hadn’t renewed your contract, but you’d understood; they’re still paying for all of your medical care, so you don’t really feel upset, just a sense of loss you’re not quite ready to name. but chanel loves you, and she’s so, so happy for you — even if you never play again, you’re walking and even starting to run now; you’re in pain but it’s manageable. it’s okay.

‘it feels —‘ euphoric; devastating — ‘like a miracle.’

/

you flop down on chanel’s neatly made and extravagent bed; you’ve been staying in her guest room — which she had turned into her closet, so it’s still kind of packed with all of her beautiful clothes, although there is a very expensive bed for you — and training until, hopefully, you can get signed somewhere. she doesn’t even look up from her ipad when you sigh. ‘hello, ava.’

‘i have a favor to ask that i actually think you’ll be interested in.’

she pauses whatever she’s doing, then looks up. ‘i’m listening.’

‘well! okay, so. as you know, i’ve basically only worn hospital gowns and sweats for the last year and a half, and before that, i was, like, a child.’

chanel perks up, and you can practically see the wheels in her head turning already.

‘and now, wherever i get signed, you know, people are gonna care, and want interviews and all this stuff. so, in small part, i want to feel good about how i look for this next chapter of football.’

‘i love it,’ she says. ‘and what’s the large part?’

you flop back again, just for the dramatics. ‘i am… so horny. like, you don’t even understand.’

she laughs. ‘JC is nice though, right?’

‘yeah,’ you say, because he is. ‘but, like, girls.’

she pauses for a second, a happy smile on her face. ‘so, you want to look… more… bisexual?’

‘i mean, i do already? because i am? right?’

‘well, of course, ava.’ it’s gentle and reassuring but still a little amused.

‘but — yeah. like, i want to pick stuff i love, my clothes and my hair and whatever, gain back control, blah blah, everything my therapist is always going on about.’

‘your therapist is great, you love her.’

‘sure.’ she is; you do. ‘so anyway, i just — i guess i just want to feel like myself.’

‘now that,’ chanel says, ‘is a favor i love.’

/

‘you’re sure?’

‘it doesn’t matter if i’m sure,’ chanel says, sitting in the hairdresser’s chair next to yours. you have the salon to yourselves; she’d booked you a private appointment with her hairstylist immediately.

you turn to said stylist, dimitri, with their chic and very neat fade. ‘are you sure?’

‘like chanel said,’ they say. ‘it only matters what you want. we don’t have to do anything big.’

you look in the mirror; you hadn’t had the real opportunity to get a haircut in a long time, being in the hospital and rehab and then spending as much time as you could training after that. you haven’t, really, taken the time to deeply care for yourself, something your therapist has been bothering you about. you want, so badly, to live as big as you can. as much as you can. 

‘well, i’m sure, as long as you think it’ll, like, be good for my face shape or whatever.’

chanel and dimitri share a quick glance and then chanel rolls her eyes. ‘ava, you have to know that you’re beautiful, right?’

you pause for what you feel is an appropriate amount of time. ‘yes.’

‘but since you asked,’ dimitri says, ‘i do think this will be great for your face shape.’

‘alright,’ you say, feeling suddenly very excited and a little buoyed. ‘let’s fucking do it, then.’

chanel cheers and dimitri grins; they wash your hair gently, and you feel a little panicked until chanel starts talking about the threesome she had a few nights ago, which is delightful and grounding enough you stay, fairly easily, in the present of this beautiful, outrageously expensive salon, the control you get to have. not that you’re thrilled about your therapist being completely 100% correct, but… she was right. 

dimitri dries your hair and then combs it out patiently, divides it and then clips up the top part. ‘ready?’

‘definitely.’

chanel grins and it’s easy, so much easier than you knew it would be, to sit and watch yourself become. you’re filled with a sense of joy, this tiny seed that grows as dimitri cuts your hair to your chin precisely, and asks you about your plans for the day, and food you love, and chanel talks about her latest modeling contract — in addition to football, which amazes you in a way that makes you feel proud in the very center of your chest, this incredible person who showed up and helped take care of you. you feel your shoulders relax; you feel your feet firmly in the new sneakers converse had sent you, comfortable and cool; you even take time to feel your butt in the chair with the knowledge that you don’t need to do any pressure reliefs or weight shifts because, when dimitri is done, you’ll be able to stand up and walk and dance and run and even play football. and even if — even if — one day, you couldn’t, you have your friends and your teammates and your life.

‘you look hot, ava,’ chanel says, very genuinely, after dimitri finishes with a leave in, then shows you how to dry your hair and recommends a light oil. 

‘go ahead,’ they say, ‘run your hands through it, all that jazz.’

to touch; to feel. you think you might cry, all of a sudden, with your soft hair that you picked, that you wanted, and chanel takes in your wobbling bottom lip and then tuts and pulls you toward her. because of your height difference, your face is basically smooshed into her chest and, even though you do cry, you laugh too, wet and messy and alive.

‘this probably my favorite place in the world,’ you say.

chanel shoves you playfully and you grin up at her. 

‘thank you.’

she waves you off, as she always does when she’s a little overwhelmed too. ‘don’t thank me yet. now we have to go shopping.’

/

it’s not as bad as you’d feared; despite the fact that chanel only wears the most elegant designer clothes — her closet is full of gucci and bottega and, of course, chanel, and a whole shelf of louboutins — but she also loves you and knows you, deeply, and so when her driver pulls up to a row of a few very cool-looking thrift stores, you have to hug her again. she gives you helpful feedback on pieces and outfits and you feel, quite genuinely, happier than maybe you ever have. you buy crop tops and high waisted, loose jeans and a few sweaters you love; some silly earrings and a necklace and a cap that chanel laughs at, but fondly enough you know it works. you find a men’s button up with a bunch of flames on it and she rolls her eyes but you put it on anyway, knot it at your waist so it feels just above your shorts.

‘do i look bi?’

‘you look a little bit crazy, but i definitely wouldn’t think you’re straight.’

you’re practically shaking with excitement: ‘it’s… flaming. i’m flaming! get it!’

chanel groans. ‘ava,’ she says, but wraps an arm around your shoulders and throws it on the growing pile anyway.

/

you feel happier than maybe you ever have until the next morning, when you come back from a silly game of football on the beach with her and JC and a few of your other friends, your hair spilling out of the tiny bun you’d managed to get it into, which had made you laugh, and sit down to have some burrata — another one of your favorites that chanel indulges in getting for you from time to time, even did while you were in the hospital and she had to put it on little crackers and feed it to you herself — and then accept a call from your agent. you step inside to take it, close the door softly. 

after it’s done, you yank the door open this time, burst onto the patio. all of your nerves are alive; in your shorts, your legs look strong again, tan and muscular and capable.

‘good news?’

you’re almost too excited to explain that you’re getting signed by your favorite club, $6 million for the year, with, if all goes well, an option to extend your contract another season after. a bonus: they just hired dr. jillian salvius, one of the best sports specialists in the world. all of your care will be, of course, included.

chanel starts to cry, which makes you start to cry, and she hugs you to her tightly. 

‘i am so happy for you,’ she says. ‘and i’m really gonna miss you.’

‘i’m gonna miss you too,’ you tell her. 

she backs up and puts her hands on your shoulders, a smile sneaking up her face. ‘you know, i happen to remember your favorite player in the whole entire world playing at a certain club.’

you hadn’t really thought past football and then six million dollars, but — ‘fuck.’

chanel laughs, face beautiful and delicate and rich in the sun. ‘i can’t wait to show her pictures of you in her jersey.’

‘oh god, are there any on my instagram? i have to go check.’

she just keeps laughing, and it’s all brimming, so wonderful, right at your fingertips.

/

you sign a few days later, your hands steady.

/

‘well,’ chanel asks, lounging back in bed on zoom, ‘how was day one?’

‘oh my god.’ your hair is still wet from the shower you took at the training grounds; you had raced back to your new apartment to make sure you were on time for your call. ‘i got there early, to play a little bit, get the nerves out, you know. and guess who was there and wanted to play 1v1?’

she grins. ‘no fucking way.’

‘i got schooled, obviously,’ you say, think of the way beatrice xin had moved with the ball, how surely she went into tackles, how precise she was. ‘i did score twice, though, and nutmegged her once. greatest football moment of my life, i’m pretty sure.’

‘what’s she like?’

you think chanel is probably humoring you, but you don’t care. ‘beatrice is… beautiful.’ it’s really the only word you have: her neat bun that stayed in place perfectly other than a few errant strands by the end of the session today; her clipped, lovely accent; the way her calves had looked while she was sprinting; the delicate lines of her face; her freckles and her eyes; how she had been serious and professional but kind; her strong back, muscles rippling under her skin in a way that made you shiver, in the locker room when she had untucked her quarterzip and pulled it over her head; how she seemed lonely, despite it all. ‘she’s really beautiful.’

/

it’s a while later when the sheer mortification dawns on you, but then beatrice, in her weird, hot, hilarious way, seems to dissipate the extreme embarrassment you’re going to be faced with by being embarrassing first.

‘hello, chanel.’ she reaches out her hand very seriously, in her favorite linen jumpsuit and a very expensive pair of off-white dunks and black, cat eye sunglasses that are honestly cooler than you expected, in front of her favorite nice brunch place. chanel shoots you a glance and then shakes bea’s hand firmly while you both try not to laugh. 

‘hey, it’s great to meet you.’

‘you, as well,’ bea says. ‘i — before we sit, i just wanted to extend my admiration, for the work you have done both on and off the field for trans equity in our sport.’

it’s so serious, and so genuine, chanel seems a little disarmed and a little affected. ‘thank you.’

bea nods once, seriously. ‘and, maybe more importantly, even, my deep gratitude, for caring for ava. she’s spoken so highly of you, and it means — i love her,’ bea decides on, after a pause. ‘i’m glad, immeasurably so, that she has people who love her too.’

chanel suspiciously sniffles. ‘can i give you a hug? is that weird?’

bea smiles, a real smile, your favorite, and opens her arms. you resist the urge, passionately, to make a joke about how the two hottest (sorry, lilith) women you know together is really gonna do it for you during your alone time later, which is honestly a fucking feat.

‘well,’ chanel says, ‘i made a presentation of every embarrassing thing ava has done that you should know about.’

‘oh no.’

bea loops her arm with chanel when she gallantly offers, and bea says, ‘oh yes.’ you trail behind them, feeling short and small and bursting with happiness. chanel orders basically the entire menu for you to try and she and bea laugh at your expense when chanel opens her phone and does, indeed, have an entire canva presentation of you being embarrassing, but you don’t really mind at all. the sun warms your shoulders and you drink champagne that costs way too much money, the bubbles bright on your tongue. chanel laughs and bea puts her hand on your thigh, just like that: you feel it all.

[variety-fangirl]

Okay, I can't believe I've found someone who still writes actively for Jimmy Keene 🥺🫶 So I'd like to ask something like Jimmy falling for the nurse who is taking care of his father at hospital (feel free to choose the reason).

I was thinking in something like jimmy being an asshole with the doctors and nurses because he is stressed and worried about his father and, seeing that the reader is the only one who doesn't give in to his anger, he begins to see her in a different way.

Thanks in advance for considering my request. You slayy 🫶🩷

Nurse / Jimmy Keene x fem!reader

Summary: you are a nurse working your normal day shift at the hospital and treating your patients as you would any other day. Until you get requested by one of your fellow colleagues to take over their patient's case because of the difficult son.

Warnings: swearing, angry/stressed Jimmy, mean Jimmy (he's not really mean, lil worried sweetheart), talk of heart attack, cancer, medication and medical care.

Authors note: aww thank you 😁 I'm quite honoured to be one of the few who write for Jimmy tbf. Helps me to stand out a little ☺️ Oh 🥺 I love this idea! This is cute actually. Thank you for requesting and reading my stuff, it means the world to me! Yes queen, you slay too 😘🥰 Thank you for reading, please enjoy. Liking, reblogging, and commenting really helps me out.

P.s. I'm not a nurse so if details are wrong or inaccurate, don't sue me lol. Just go along with it haha.

Word count: 2.9k

"Okay, Dorothy, you are discharged, signed, and all set to leave finally!" You happily inform one of your patients that you had been caring for for about a week. She had come in for a Mastectomy, but there had been issues, and she had stayed a few days longer than planned. She had her surgery yesterday and was now finally going home cancer-free. Dorothy is a sweet 58-year-old lady whom you have cared for repeatedly over the years for various health reasons. She was always an absolute delight to look after and provide care for. You'd developed a slight soft spot for her. Even though that wasn't typically allowed, you kept your emotions in check, mostly with your patients.

"Oh, thank goodness, I can't wait to go and sleep this off in my own bed finally. Thank you so much for taking care of me again, sweetheart." Dorothy's cold, wrinkled but gentle and soft hand clasped yours with the strength she could muster. She was still a bit groggy from the high dosage of painkillers you had prescribed her for the pain. Her husband, Gordon, smiled and thanked you with a tender hand on your shoulder before pushing his wife's wheelchair out of the hospital room. You smile sweetly, "It was my absolute pleasure. It always is. Now, you both take care. I don't want to see either of you back here for a while, okay?" You teased with half seriousness.

"Hopefully not, dear!" Gordon calls with a chuckle as they both wave before leaving down the corridor to the elevators. You smile and fill in Dorothy's chart about her discharge. It took you about twenty minutes before you handed it back to reception. You were hoping to take your lunch break. It was about the time for you to take one. But luck was not on your side because no more than five minutes later, as you reached the break room, your colleague Jillian stopped you with pleading eyes. You grimace, "What's wrong?" you ask with an unhappy tone.

"I will do anything, anything, if you can please take over Nigel for the afternoon. He's-" she pauses and sighs, obviously exhausted. It had been a long day for you all. Nigel was hard work for everyone but you for some reason. Maybe it was your sternness and no-messing attitude that got him to behave, or maybe he just had a soft spot for you. You weren't sure, but he was good as gold for you. You sigh, "refusing to take his meds again?" You question. This was a recurring theme with Mr. Nigel. He had a habit of throwing tantrums and refusing to take his blood pressure meds. So most would come to you for help, knowing he would listen to you. She nods, "he's asking for you and will apparently only take his meds if you give them to him. He says he only trusts you."

You groan, rubbing your forehead with your fingers. You could feel an oncoming migraine forming, oh how fun. You held your hand out, "Okay." You huffed with a sigh, exasperated from your already too-long shift. You loved your job, but sometimes you were beyond exhausted with some of the patients you had to care for. Jillian squeals happily, "Thank you, thank you! You are a lifesaver." she thanks gratefully as she passes you his medication, a now bright smile on her tired but still beautiful face. You take a moment to yourself, taking a deep breath in and out before making your way to Nigel's room.

Nigel was one of your regulars at the hospital. He was back and forth constantly for different reasons and always ended up staying longer than planned. On this occasion, he had surgery on his leg because of an infection. He took regular medication for asthma and his heart, but the old bastard was stubborn at taking them. His wife had always been the one to remind him, but since she died a year ago, he's been awful about taking them. You knock on his door and wait patiently, receiving a very rude 'fuck off' before deciding to just enter anyway.

"Now Nigel, is that any way to treat your favourite nurse?" You kid, walking further into the room until you reach his bedside where the water jug is located. You pour some water into a small cup as he speaks, "I didn't realise it was you, I'm sorry. I'm glad they finally got you as I requested." he grumbles, obviously displeased but not with you. You turn with the water and pills in hand, "Meds, please." he grabs them from you instantly and takes them without fuss. You secretly roll your eyes at his tantrum, "And you know I can't always be here to look after you, Nigel." You tut as you adjust the pillow behind his head and back to be more comfortable for him and pull his blanket back up to his chest the way he likes. He pats the hand on his chest kindly, "I know, but they don't look after me the way you do. You're special." You smile as you check his IV.

"Well, thank you." You nod and check the now-empty paper cup, "finished?" you ask, referring to the water. He nods, passing the cup back to you where you refill it and place it on his bedside in case he wants some later. You check over his chart as well whilst there to make sure everything is in order and fill in the necessary information about what you've done. "Right, you are all set. I will come back and check on you later. Is there anything you need?" You ask with a smile. The grey balding 65-year-old shakes his head with a returning smile, "Nope. I'm good." You nod with a chuckle, preparing to leave the room, "Okay, I'll see you later."

You spend the next few hours of your shift doing rounds, checking on patients, sorting out medication, filling in charts, and the usual tasks you would normally do. By that point, you only had 30 minutes left of your shift. It was 7 PM. You'd always done 12 hours, so you couldn't wait to go home, take a hot shower, and get into your nice clean bed to sleep. You were exhausted and hungry. You were contemplating what to grab on the way home to eat because you were far too exhausted to cook tonight when another of your colleagues, Gloria, came over with a guilty look on her face. You glare at her, "No."

"Please, y/n, I am begging you to help," she begs with pleading eyes. She genuinely looks like she is going to cry. "No, I have twenty-five minutes left before I clock out, and I already took on one patient more than my own today as is." You close the last chart of the day and hand it back to reception, now finally finished for the day. "I'll give you $20?" she bribes, holding your shoulders with a grip of plea. You sigh, "Fine! You owe me so badly! Fill me in on the patient and the issue as we go to their room, lead the way." You indicate to in front of you for her to go first. She nods and starts filling you in.

"The patient is James Keene, who prefers to be called Big Jim. Sixty years of age and came in for a mild heart attack. Started the necessary treatment, but there's difficulty with his check-up." She winces, leading you down the hallway slowly. "So what do you need me for then?" You question confused, not understanding what the issue is. She sighs, "The son is the issue. He's making treatment difficult and is freaking out on all the nurses." You turn to her with a raised eyebrow. "I know! But trust me, you'll understand when you meet him. Right, here he is, room 305. Thank you!" She scoots off back down the hallway without another word, leaving you with the difficult family member.

You roll your eyes, tuck the chart under your arm, and knock on the door. A gruff but kind 'come in' voiced for you to enter, the annoyance immediately gone, and a smile replaced on your face. "Hello, Mr. Keene! I'm the new nurse who will be taking care of you during your time with us. I'm y/n, it's nice to meet you." You walk to the left side of his bed as the son is on the right and place the chart at the end of his bed before taking his side. The son with an eye roll scoffs, "Great. Another fucking nurse." His arms are folded defensively over his chest and his body language suggests he is not happy. "Jimmy!" James scolds unhappily, a frown on his face. "Well sir, the other nurses were not pleased with your attitude towards them and unco-operation in their trying to help your father. So I was asked to take over." He squints his eyes but says nothing further for the moment.

"I'm just going to take your blood pressure, is that alright?" You ask sweetly with a smile, James nods with a smile. You go to take his arm when Jimmy growls, "Be careful, for god sake! He's hurt." You give him a blunt look, "Sir, I did go to medical school for a number of years to train to be a nurse. I know what I'm doing." Your tone left no room for argument as you took James' arm carefully and gently as you originally intended to. You took his blood pressure, monitored his heart rate, and checked what was necessary, all with Jimmy making snide comments or yelling at you whilst you were just trying to help his father. You had enough.

"Okay, Mr. Keene, all done for now. I'm a little concerned about your blood pressure and hydration levels, so I'll get an IV and some medication to sort that out right away for you. The doctor has advised a few days to stay, so we are going to keep you in for observation and granted you improve, then you can go home. I'll be back shortly. Jimmy? May I speak with you outside for a moment, please?" You ask with a tense tone, indicating to the door. He huffs but follows behind you as James thanks you. Jimmy closes the door behind you both and steps to the side so you are both by the wall, out of people's way. You look Jimmy over, noting the tired look on his face, the clear bags under his lovely eyes, and a look of frustration on his face.

"Can I speak plainly?" You question as you look at his face, waiting patiently. He nods stiffly, not meeting your eyes, seeming to favour looking at your neck instead. "Okay, thank you." you pause for a moment, "I understand perfectly how worried you must be for your father and his wellbeing, it's absolutely natural to be frustrated and angry when you want the best care for your loved one. But, your behaviour and attitude with me and my fellow colleagues are unacceptable." His eyes shoot up to look at yours, a look of surprise in his eyes. He goes to open his mouth, but you hold your finger up, "I'm not finished. The other nurses asked for me to take over because they couldn't deal with your difficult behaviour. It made caring for your father hard. I won't tolerate that kind of disrespect when I am just trying to look after your lovely father, so, if you are quite finished?" You ask, as if he's a naughty child being told off for his behaviour.

He clears his throat, a small smirk on his lips. "Absolutely, I apologise for my behaviour. I was in the wrong because I was worried. It won't happen again, ma'am." You smile in return and nod. You appreciate more than anything when someone admits they are in the wrong and apologises for their actions. Nurse no-nonsense strikes again! "Thank you, I appreciate the apology. Right, I'll be back shortly!" You call to Jimmy as you go to sort out Mr. Keene's medication and treatment. Unbeknownst to you, Jimmy stays rooted to the spot, watching you as you walk away with a smile on his face.

By the time you went back in there 30 minutes later, he was a changed man. He was polite and understanding towards you, letting you do your job in peace. You were grateful for it. It made your job so much easier. You made sure Mr. Keene was taken care of, as well as Jimmy, making sure they both had everything they needed for the night before you left.

-

Over the next four days of Mr. Keene, being in the hospital for treatment, you start bonding with Jimmy slowly. After you told him off, he calmed down completely and left you to treat his father without argument. And anytime he did say anything out of line, you would just tell him off straight away, and instead of anger, he would just smirk to himself, not saying anything. You were unsure why, but his smile was so infectious that you would end up smiling back in return. You would try not to, to be professional, but it was damn hard with how gorgeous his smile is. You noticed a complete difference in him. It had been pleasant to have him around, and James was an absolute delight. Despite his condition, he was cracking jokes and smiling non-stop. He is one of your favourite patients to date, although you wouldn't tell the others that. Especially Nigel.

Jimmy had changed his attitude towards everyone at the hospital, so much so that your colleague came up and asked what the hell you'd done. She'd cracked an inappropriate joke about his dick which you both scolded her for and laughed at. You weren't exactly sure what you'd done, again. Maybe it was the fact that you didn't take his bullshit and called him out on it. Maybe he liked you. You weren't sure, but you were glad for it anyway. And you were very aware that, like Nigel, Jimmy refused any other nurse to care for his father whilst he was here. Claiming you were "understanding and gentle" with his father's care. You didn't mind anyway.

By the time James was discharged from the hospital, you were honestly a little sad. You'd definitely miss seeing them both around here, James kept the job interesting. Which you were so appreciative of, the job could often feel a little samey at times. So, having interesting patiently made it all worthwhile. You had been extremely busy that day and had honestly expected Jimmy to kick off, maybe even just a little because of how long it was taking, but he didn't say a word.

"I am so sorry for the wait, Mr. Keene, we are down three nurses today, so we are a little understaffed and very busy. You are all set to go, discharge papers are done, and you have everything, yes?" You didn't want poor James to forget any of his belongings here. James nodded with a smile, "All set, thank you." he shook your hand firmly before making his way towards the elevators, but Jimmy stayed behind. You hadn't even noticed until you turned around and noticed him standing directly behind you.

You gasp quietly in shock, your faces mere inches apart. You both stare at one another for a few moments, seeming to admire one another with the same intensity. You unintentionally look at his lips, your eyes lingering on the pink plump and kissable lips as his tongue dips out his mouth and licks along his bottom lip. You clear your throat and take a step back, putting some professional distance between you both before someone sees and questions you. "Your number?" You shake your head and look up at him, considering how very tall he is, with a questioning look. "I'm sorry?" you ask, shocked, eyes wide.

He smirks, knowing that you were too busy ogling him to hear a single word that he had just said. "I asked if I could have your number to set up a date." He replies cooly, leaning against the doorframe with his arms crossed over his chest so that his muscles were bulging through his cotton long-sleeved shirt. You smile, although you try to hide it but fail miserably, "Mr. Keene, that is against hospital policy, no fraternising with patients." You try to say it sternly, but it just comes out teasingly.

He smirks knowingly, "Good thing I'm not a patient then. So, your number, gorgeous?" he leans in slightly closer, his eyes staring deeply into yours with lustful intensity. You scoff with a laugh but pull out your notepad and pen regardless. How could you say no to that charm? You roll your eyes as you pass the piece of paper to him, "8 o'clock this Saturday, I'll text you my address when you text me. Don't be late." You playfully glare as you turn and walk towards reception, needing to clear your head just slightly. His presence was intoxicating to be around. Just as you were about to turn the corner, you heard him quietly say, "I wouldn't dream of it, sweetheart." The smile didn't leave your face for the rest of the day.

[faefictions]

Hey! I saw you were looking for requests, I was wondering if you could write something where Eddie’s s/o gets their wisdom teeth out and how he’d react? Thanks!

“Yes, I know you find this particular segment of the news hilarious right now, but please sit up for me baby”, Eddie chided in the most polite way possible. 

When he had agreed to take care of his girlfriend after she got her wisdom teeth out, he didn’t think it would be this hard. She was originally just going to go home and let her mother take care of her, but she had become worried that she would let something slip in front of her while she was high on pain meds. When she brought up needed to come up with a plan for damage control for the 15th time, the bright idea of him taking over the job popped into his head. She had tried to warn him, but at the time, nothing seemed as bad as her mother finding out what the two of them really did on Saturday nights. 

She was currently rolling on his couch in laughter, and even with the pain meds coursing through her system, he couldn’t figure out why. The topic on the news was either water pollution or recognizing a local teacher, either way it was too boring for him to pay attention, and too definitely too boring for her to be cracking up this hard. 

He propped her up, yet again, with a pillow behind her head and readjusted the blanket on her lap to cover her feet, which always seemed to be cold, though she was paying no mind. 

“Eddie,” she whined, voiced muffled and slurred from the cotton in her mouth. 

“Yes?” He smiled down at her as he stood, blocking her view of the TV. 

“Why won’t you kiss me,” she pouted, and she seemed to be close to tears. 

“Sweetheart, you didn’t ask. And you just had surgery all up in there,” he joked, waving a finger around her mouth, “I don’t know if it’s the best idea cutie.” 

“You don’t love me anymore?”

“What? I didn’t say that,” he chuckled. Normally, if the course of a conversation had steered this direction, he would be beyond stressed, but he couldn’t help but laugh. 

“You think I’m gross now, you’re never going to kiss me again,” she cried, throwing her head back. 

Eddie gently guided her to look at him, doing his best to avoid pressing too hard on her cheek, and smiled widely at her. Though he was stressed that she was going to choke on the cotton or her own tongue at this point, he was still enjoying her childish behavior. 

“I love you so much,” he punctuated his declaration with a gentle kiss, “And I’ll never stop wanting to kiss you. Bloody mouth or not.”

Thanks for the request! Sorry it's short, but I hope you enjoy!!

[satninbaby]

it’s midnight here in australia which means the day has come.

today i wanna appreciate the man that was Elvis Presley. i grew up only knowing the hits from my mumma, songs like In The Ghetto, Jailhouse Rock, Burning Love and many others of his hits. I never took the time to really listen to him and his beauty though, until a few months ago.

I was going through a really dark patch in my life when i came across that video of that girl crying and he held her hand and said “what’s the matter baby?” As odd as it sounds, but in that video i had seen myself in that girl, and the way Elvis hugged and kissed her made me happy. I slowly jumped into a hole of Elvis.

I found comfort in him when i had jaw surgery, and i know i was cracked on drugs but i remember seeing him in his jumpsuit in the operating theatre smiling at me and i felt calm as the colours burst around him. I know it was the drugs that had put him there, but i was incredibly anxious and i just focused on him. When i was healing, i fell into a depression. I couldn’t eat, i couldn’t sleep, i couldn’t talk, and the only thing i found comfort in was his movies and music. I used his stuff to help be bring calm to myself whenever i felt sick from all the meds and the pain.

I truly am thankful for Elvis Presley. I fully believe that even though he isn’t alive today, he is a healer. I’ve been thankful for many artists music that have pulled me from a deep hole from time to time, and Elvis Presley will always hold a deep place in my heart. I hope that he is up there and looking down on all us, knowing that his memory is still alive.

And to the friends i’ve made and the Elvis fandom, thank you for embracing me into this beautiful family.

In the morning, i will be lighting a candle while graceland does their candlelight vigil, and maybe, just maybe, wherever elvis is looking down from, he sees all the light for him. he sees the love from all of us. that candle will stay on all day for him and his life.

I love you, Elvis Presley.