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moonriizing · 2 days ago

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dear reader... again | 02z

One island. One daughter. Three possible dads. You just wanted peace and quiet—what you got was chaos, old flames, and a little girl asking for three dads.

Genre: destination au, strangers-to-lovers, smut Pairing: ENHYPEN Jake/Sunghoon/Jay x afab!reader Warnings: mature themes, explicit sexual content (18+) MDNI, don't come at me but she ends up with just one guy and the smut is only with one of them Notes: 22k words. Guys, bear with me. I'm a long fic writer. Sometimes, I just can't help it. This is one of those times. This is a sequel to Dear Reader, but it can be read as a standalone fic. Loosely based on the 2008 movie, Mamma Mia! Disclaimer: I do not know them, nor claim they would ever in real life behave the way they were portrayed in this fic. If you see the same exact fic in a different blog, for NCT, that is me. I did not plagiarize myself; otherwise, lmk.

i: Mamma Mia! Here We Go Again

The drawing room was a war zone. Empty cups on every surface, leftovers here and there, balloons all over the floor. Your daughter had retreated to her bedroom to play with her new toys, leaving you with a garbage bag in one hand and three ghosts of your past sitting awkwardly on the couch.

You didn’t look at them as you threw another stack of paper plates into the bag. It was a good thing that your friends and two of Emma’s godmothers were keeping the room noisy as they helped you clean up. But at some point, Lea and Amy found a spot far across the room where they could interrogate you.

“Which one is it?” Lea asked immediately, like she hadn’t already asked the same thing three different ways in the past three hours.

Amy nudged her. “Were you listening? She didn’t check which one it was, remember?”

“What are they doing here anyway? Did you invite them?”

You huffed, glancing over your shoulder just long enough to catch the three of them talking. “No idea. They just showed up out of nowhere.”

“On Emma’s birthday? That can’t be a coincidence.”

“Oh, it’s definitely not a coincidence,” Lea muttered, shaking her head conspiratorially.

Unfortunately, she was right. It wasn’t a coincidence. When they showed up on your doorstep earlier, all three of them, the first question you’d asked had been: What are you doing here? And apparently, they had an answer.

Each of them had brought a letter from you. Letters you didn’t remember sending—because technically, you didn’t.

After a discreet interrogation with the staff, you found out how it happened. Last week, while clearing out the attic, you’d accidentally left a box on the counter marked “outgoing.” Inside were things you meant to throw away—old receipts, scribbled notes, and three unsent letters you’d written four years ago.

You remembered them now. You’d written those letters when Emma was in the hospital, and needed a blood transfusion, but her blood type was rare. You were scared. Desperate. You almost mailed them. But she got better before you had to.

Now here they were, delivered years late and right on time to ruin your peaceful little life. Still, that didn’t explain how they got here on the same day, at the exact same time. But when you asked, Jake had said:

“Oh, we actually missed the ferry, and Mr. Jay here was nice enough to offer his yacht.”

You’d scoffed. “Still parading the seas with that yacht?”

“Yeah, no,” Jay had replied smugly. “This one’s new. Got it just last year.”

Jake was the first to speak, stepping forward with a smile. “So... we were wondering,” he said, glancing briefly at Jay and Sunghoon, “if there might be any rooms available here? Just for a few days while we’re on the island.”

You raised an eyebrow but kept your voice steady. “You’re not leaving yet?”

Jay chuckled. “Why am I getting the feeling you don’t want us here?”

“Honestly?” you sighed. “Doesn’t matter much to me. But if you’re looking for a room, try somewhere else. I’m fully booked.”

Jake cleared his throat. “We’d pay, of course. No trouble.”

You shook your head firmly. “Sorry. You can pay me double, but the calendar will still be full until the end of the month.”

There was a pause as Jake glanced over at the other two. You saw Jay shrug before saying, “The boat’s got plenty of rooms. You guys can crash there while I’m around.”

Jake nodded quickly, but Sunghoon hesitated, eyes flicking to you. Jay turned back. “Guess that settles it. We’ll be on our way, then,” he said, offering a small wave.

“Yes. Please go,” you said briskly, waving your hand dismissively. Don’t come back, you wanted to add—but didn’t.

“It’s good to see you, sweetheart,” Jay grinned, winking before sliding on his sunglasses and turning away.

You grimaced, rolled your eyes, and went back to your chore. You reached for a trash bag, but someone else grabbed it before you could. It was Sunghoon, and you could still feel the warmth of his presence behind you even after he’d moved away. Jake and Jay had left, but he was still here.

“What are you doing?” you asked, though it was clear he was trying to help.

Of course, he was. You didn’t even have it in you to stop him when he started scraping paper plates into it, like this was just a normal evening in some alternate universe where he was your partner and this was his house, too.

“She’s very lovely,” Sunghoon said after a moment of nothing but silence between the two of you. “Emma, I mean.”

“She is,” you replied flatly despite the nervousness slowly creeping up your chest.

“She’s six?” he asked and you nodded. “Is her dad around?”

You exhaled sharply, dropping the broom. “It’s really none of your business, Hoon. I’d rather we don’t talk like we’re old friends. Or act like we knew each other at all.”

Sunghoon sighed, saying your name softly, but you didn’t want to hear it. You walked out of the hall and found something else to do in the kitchen, hoping he’d be gone at some point without you having to interact with him anymore.

You kept yourself busy, moving from one task to the next—stacking empty cups, folding napkins, wiping down surfaces—anything to avoid looking Sunghoon’s way. Every now and then, you caught him quietly working alongside you, silently scraping plates or gathering trash, never saying much.

You thought he would leave if you ignored him long enough, but the hours ticked by, the party noise died down, and still, Sunghoon stayed. You resisted the urge to ask him directly to go, too wary of what might come if you did.

Finally, as the last of the balloons were deflating and the floor was almost spotless, he gathered the last trash bag and gave you a small nod. Without a word, he slipped out the door. Relief washed over you.

Later that night, you sat in the living room with Amy and Lea, nibbling on some ham and cheese from the kitchen. The house was quiet, the staff had left, and Emma was sleeping quietly upstairs. A TV show was playing in the background, but no one was really watching.

“So,” Amy said, passing you the plate, “All three of them are here. Shy Boy, Lover Boy, and Play Boy. What’s going on?”

Lea shook her head, eyes narrowed. “Even with the letter mix-up and fate or whatnot, I still don’t get why now, after all these years.”

You shrugged, chewing slowly. “I don’t know. The universe probably has it out for me.”

Amy leaned back, thoughtful. “You seemed tense around Lover Boy earlier. What’s his deal?”

You glanced at the ceiling, choosing your words carefully. “He’s…” You threw your hands up in the air, frustrated. “He’s Lover Boy.”

“Oh,” said Amy, nodding in realization. “Of course. Yeah, I get it.”

“What is it?” Lea asked cluelessly. “I don’t get it.”

“Sunghoon is Lover Boy,” Amy explained plainly, though it wasn’t enough for Lea. “He’s complicated because, you know, he’s the guy she fell in love with, but then he left her because he was engaged to some other girl.”

Lea gasped. “Oh my god! Yes! I forgot that we called him Lover Boy because she was crazy about him.”

“I was not,” you said coolly, lifting your glass to your lips to hide your lie.

“Were too,” Amy said in a sing-song, smirking. You huffed and slapped her thigh, earning a surprised yelp and a fit of giggles from both of them.

“Whatever. I’m not doing this with you guys,” you said, standing and brushing crumbs from your lap. “I’m going to bed.”

“Who else would you talk to if not us?” Lea called after you, laughter chasing you up the stairs.

You padded down the hallway, quiet now that the party was over and the girls were left to their wine and gossip. Your bedroom door was ajar, but you kept walking past it and down to the end of the hall where Emma’s room was.

You pushed the door open gently and peeked inside. She was fast asleep, curled into a soft lump beneath her blanket, one arm wrapped tightly around the new stuffed animal she’d gotten today. You stepped in and sat lightly on the edge of the bed, brushing her hair from her face. Her breathing was steady. Peaceful. The sight of her always had a way of quieting something wild inside you.

“Goodnight, baby,” you whispered, pressing a kiss to her forehead.

You stood to leave, carefully pulling the blanket back over her shoulder, but just as you turned to go, a small voice cut through the quiet. “Mommy?”

You turned instantly. Emma had stirred, eyes half-lidded, voice thick with sleep. She reached out a hand, and you crossed the room again without hesitation, crawling gently onto the bed beside her. “I’m here, baby,” you whispered, wrapping an arm around her as she snuggled into your side.

She was quiet for a moment, her little fingers playing with the hem of your shirt. Then, softly, “Who were those men?”

You blinked. “What men?”

“At the party. I didn’t know them. The tall men.”

You hesitated, smoothing her hair back from her forehead. “Just tourists, sweetie. They were asking for some rooms.”

“Oh,” she murmured. “Are they mean?”

You frowned. “What? No. Why would you think that?”

“They made you sad,” she said simply, her voice already fading as sleep tried to reclaim her. “I saw you do the forehead thing.”

You felt a lump forming in your throat. That was the thing about Emma. Even when she didn’t fully understand something, she felt it. She had always been so in-tune with you, too sensitive for her own good sometimes.

“No, baby,” you whispered, kissing the crown of her head. “They’re not mean. Just a little complicated.”

Emma hummed, snuggling closer. “I don’t like that word.”

“Yeah, me neither.” She didn’t say anything else after that, and within moments, her breathing evened out again. You stayed where you were, staring up at the glow-in-the-dark stars scattered across her ceiling.You weren’t ready to explain who those men really were. You didn’t even have the full truth yourself yet. And quite frankly, you never really thought about introducing Emma to her dad one day. But then again, life has its own way of kicking you in the ass. With all three of them here, you knew you would eventually have to confront the truth and put a face on the dad you’d kept from Emma all these years. You just hoped she’d be ready when that day came. Or that you would.

ii: “Croissant. Closure. Co-Parenting?”

The next day, you spotted them before they saw you—Jake with a juice in hand, Jay chatting up the girl at the counter, and Sunghoon lingering by the window like he didn’t quite know what to do with himself.

Of all the cafés on the island, of course, they came to your favorite one. Amy followed your gaze and made a low, amused sound. “Would you look at that. Shy Boy, Lover Boy, and Play Boy, all in one place.”

“I told them to leave,” you muttered, flipping over the menu board even though you knew you were gonna order the same thing as usual.

Lea, who owned the cafe, leaned over the counter, eyes narrowing at the trio. “Shy Boy’s in flip-flops. I don’t think they’re leaving. Maybe they’re here for my famous croissant?”

“Sure,” Amy snorted. “Croissant. Closure. Co-parenting. Who’s to say?”

“I don’t care. They have to leave,” you huffed.

“Yeah, well, good luck with that,” Lea chuckled, turning to welcome another customer who’d just walked through the doors.

Jay was the first to spot you, unsurprisingly. He made a show of removing his sunglasses, flashing a smile so wide you wondered how it didn’t split his face open.

“Good morning,” he called, walking over to where you were standing by the counter. “Fancy seeing you here.”

“Can’t say the same with you.”

Jay chuckled like the jab didn’t bother him. “Yeah, I missed you, too. Say, how would you like to join me today? I’m sightseeing.”

“Pass. Some of us have real jobs,” you deadpanned, eyes still fixed on the menu.

“You’re gonna bore a hole in that thing,” Jay said after a few seconds of watching you stare at the piece of cardboard.

You exhaled sharply and placed the menu down. Behind him, you caught Jake’s gaze, and he gave a small sheepish wave. Sunghoon didn’t approach—just gave a slight nod from where he sat, eyes cautious.

“What do you want?” you asked Jay, arms crossed.

Jay lifted a brow. “Coffee? A warm smile? To not be treated like a disease?”

“You can have the coffee,” you replied, nodding to the barista. “Smile’s out of stock.”

Jay grinned. “Where’s Emma?”

“School,” you replied briskly. “Not that it’s any of your business where my daughter is.”

“It’s not. I’m just trying to make conversation.”

You didn’t say anything to that, just gave him a deadpan expression. Jay raised an eyebrow, waiting for you to speak, and seemingly trying to gauge if the look meant anything, but when you didn’t, he took a deep breath and shrugged.

“Well, this place has a nice vibe. We’ll order something and be on our way. No need to panic.”

“I’m not panicking,” you snapped. Which, unfortunately, sounded exactly like someone who was panicking.

They sat at a table in the corner, quietly eating. Jake tapped on his phone. Jay flirted with the waitress. Sunghoon stared out the window. You pretended not to watch them, but your ears picked up every laugh and cough and scrape of a chair.

Amy leaned over again. “You okay?”

“I’m fine,” you said, poking at your food aggressively.

Lea leaned in as she pushed a small cup of espresso your way. “Be honest. Are you more mad that they came back, or that some part of you isn’t entirely mad?” You placed your fork down and didn’t answer.

“Oh my god. I can’t decide if I’m enjoying your despair or if I’m terrified of it,” said Amy, tutting as she shook her head at you,

“They’re just tourists,” you said through gritted teeth. “Let’s treat them as such.”

Just tourists, you told yourself. Just tourists my ass.

The sun was too bright for a Tuesday. You squinted up at it as you stepped out of a grocery store, two bags dangling from your arms, the baguette sticking out comically like something out of a cartoon. You walked down the winding road, exchanging smiles and pleasantries with a few people you knew.

Just as you were turning a corner, you spotted Jake in front of an old book shop, staring up at the sign with sunglasses far too big for his face. The owner, an old man with a permanent slouch, came out to greet him and usher him inside.

He hadn’t seen you yet. You considered ducking back inside and hiding in the alley between a patisserie and the bookshop, but fate was quicker. Jake turned at the perfect moment, smiling as soon as he recognized you.

“Hey,” he called, jogging over before you could pretend to be invisible. “I could help with that,” he offered.

You adjusted the bags in your hands. “No. I’ve got it.”

“Yes, but I insist, please.” He reached for one anyway, and you didn’t stop him, mostly because you were too tired to argue.

You walked side by side in silence for a few seconds. The streets were still sleepy at this hour—too early for tourists, too late for locals.

Jake cleared his throat, shifting the bag in his hands. “So, uh, this place is lovely. The pastry is amazing. I had something yesterday—some kind of tart with fig and honey? It was amazing. I mean, not that I know anything about pastries. Or figs. I’m more of a donut guy, really. But you know—when in Rome. Or, uh, Corsica.”

You glanced at him sideways. He wasn’t looking at you, just staring ahead. He went on. “Also, everyone keeps smiling here. Like, aggressively friendly. One would think you’re not in France at all. Last time I was in the country, I went to Paris, and if someone smiled at you like that, they either want to sell you something or they’re about to scam you.”

That made you laugh, unexpectedly. Jake heard it and looked over, clearly startled, then smiled sheepishly. You cleared your throat after a few seconds, still a little red in the face. “You haven’t changed at all, Jake.”

Jake shrugged like he disagreed. “I did change a little. But you certainly haven’t.”

Your brows furrowed. “What do you mean?”

He glanced at you, lips twitching into a small smile. “You’re just as beautiful as the first time I met you.”

You smirked. “On second thought, maybe you have changed.” You pointed to his choice of clothing. “You look more put-together. You must be doing better now.”

Jake smiled, that soft, earnest one that you used to find so endearing. “I am, thank goodness. My job is less stressful now. I’m doing much, much better. You, though? How have you been?”

“I’m fine. I’m sure you can tell that much.”

“Yeah, I can see that,” he replied, nodding. “And you’ve got a daughter. Emma, right? She seemed really bright. She reminds me of you.”

You frowned. “You don’t know her.”

“I know enough,” he said gently, then added quickly, “I mean—not in a weird way. Just, you know. I saw her for a few hours, and she seemed... like she knows exactly what she wants. Just like you always did.”

You didn’t respond to that. The road curved ahead, and you were quiet again, but it was less awkward this time, more familiar. Like an old coat, neither of you knew how to take off. You stopped walking as your house came into view. Jake did too. You turned to face him. “What are you doing here, Jake?”

Jake looked confused. “Helping you with your bags?”

“No, I mean here here. On this island,” you clarified, sighing. “Why did you come here?”

Jake blinked. “What do you mean?”

You shot him a look. “I know you came because you thought I asked you to, but we cleared that up, didn’t we? So why are you still here?”

“Vacation,” he offered quickly. “I’m here on vacation. Sometimes I like to do solo trips. You know? Pick a spot on the map and go there. I’m a spontaneous person.”

“No, you’re not.”

Jake chuckled. “No, I’m not.”

You didn’t say anything to that, just shook your head and looked over your shoulder at your house by the cliffs. “I should get these home,” you said finally, nodding toward the bags.

Jake blinked like he’d forgotten he was still holding one. “Right! Of course. Sorry. I’ll, uh—I’ll leave you to it.”

You turned toward the path that led back to your house, but paused after Jake called out your name. “It’s really good to see you again,” he said. And you knew he meant it.

You nodded. “Thanks.” Then turned and kept walking.

iii: “Okay, Ice Princess.”

You thought you’d feel calmer the second you stepped back inside your house. But the moment you opened the door, laughter—loud and familiar—echoed through the hall and made the veins in your temples throb. Jay was sprawled across your sofa, drink in hand, laughing at something Amy had said.

“There she is!” Amy called brightly the moment she saw you.

“My sweetheart,” Jay added, getting to his feet with arms outstretched like he expected a warm welcome.

You dodged the hug before he could reach you. “Ames, did you check the mail? Something came for you.”

Amy’s eyes widened. “Already? Wait—what day is it?” She didn’t wait for an answer, scrambling off the couch and disappearing into the study, which you’d turned into your office.

Jay followed you into the kitchen after Amy left, looking around the place. “Nice place you’ve got. Very you. Minimalist but cozy.”

“Glad you approve,” you deadpanned.

He grinned, tipping back the last of his drink before setting the glass on the countertop. “So... how have you been? You know, since our amazing little summer.”

“I’ve been fine.”

“Just fine?” He leaned forward, elbows on his knees. “‘Fine’ fine, or ‘not fine’ fine?”

“‘None of your business’ fine.”

Jay laughed, clearly entertained. “Okay, Ice Princess. What did I do? Why am I getting the cold treatment like we didn’t part in great terms on the best of circumstances all those years ago?”

The circumstances he was talking about were definitely not the best for you, but you didn’t wanna get into that with him. “I’m just trying to maintain a quiet life, Jay. Having you here gives me anything but that.”

Jay shrugged, leaning against the counter and crossing his arms over his chest. “Alright, fine.”

He was quiet for a minute, watching you pile up the groceries in their respective containers and cabinets. “Village’s changed a lot, hasn’t it?” he said after a while, glancing around. “I mean, there’s a wine bar now. A wine bar. When did this place get so bougie?”

“Not too long ago. More and more tourists are finding this place.”

“Is that why you turned this into a BNB?”

You hummed. “The plan was a hotel, but that takes so much more work, so I’m putting that on hold for now.”

Jay nodded slowly, then looked at you again, this time more carefully. “Your daughter Emma is adorable. I didn’t know you got married.”

You paused, hand hovering in the air as you were closing an overhead cabinet. “I didn’t.”

His eyebrows rose. “Oh. Huh. I just assumed. You know... kid, house, the whole ‘maintaining a quiet life’ spiel. Is the father out of the picture?”

You huffed, unwilling to have this conversation with him for the most obvious reason. “It’s really none of your business, but if you must ask, no, he is not in the picture. I have a daughter and I’m not married. That’s it.”

He gave a slow, thoughtful nod, like he was tucking that information away for later. “Yeah, I doubt you would have enjoyed being married. You always did like being independent.”

You said nothing, just continued your chore and pretended he wasn’t there. But it was easier said than done.

“I missed talking to you,” he said with a lilt. “Even when you’re being mean.”

“You are bothering me while I’m working. I’m not being mean.”

“Oh, I know,” he chimed, tilting his head. “This is you being civilized. It’s kinda hot.”

You rolled your eyes. “I thought I told you to leave?”

“I’m the master of my own fate, sweetheart. I don’t let anyone tell me what to do,” he said smugly. “Besides, this place is magnificent. Can’t blame a man for staying and reliving the nostalgia.”

You didn’t bother replying. Just turned away and kept unpacking, hoping he’d take the hint. Jay smirked, clearly enjoying pushing your buttons, but then his phone buzzed in his pocket. He glanced at it, sighed, and shook his head. “Well, I should probably let you get back to your kingdom of quiet,” he said, stretching.

You didn’t bother to say goodbye, just kept sorting the groceries. Jay grinned like he knew he’d won some invisible game and turned toward the door. “See you around.”

You heard the front door close behind him, and the sudden silence was almost deafening. The sound of footsteps signaled Amy’s return. “Jay’s gone,” she said, placing a letter on the counter. “I guess I’m gone too. But more gone than he is.”

Your brows furrowed. “Whatever does that mean?”

Amy lifted the paper. “They’re summoning me back. I’m afraid I’m gonna have to say goodbye to my little break and go back to working my ass off for a new Chanel purse.”

You chuckled. “You’re your own boss, Amy.”

“Pep talk? Nice. I can always trust you to lift me up when I’m down.”

“No, I mean literally,” you clarified, laughing. “You literally own your company.”

Amy sighed and sank into a chair. “I know, right? Who knew being a boss could be so demanding, too?”

You smiled, placing the last jar of jam in the cabinet. “You always did say you wanted to build an empire.”

“I was picturing more champagne and yachts. Less spreadsheets and back-to-back Zoom calls.” She pouted. “But alas, I must answer the call of capitalism.”

You leaned against the counter, arms folded. “When are you leaving?”

“Couple more days. Figured I’d squeeze in a few more sunsets before I go back to breathing recycled air in my office.”

“That gives us time for at least one more girls’ night.”

Amy grinned. “You, me, Lea, a bottle of wine, and us talking about Emma’s drop dead gorgeous dads?”

“Possible dads.”

She raised her hands in surrender. “Right, possible dads. But seriously… you okay with me leaving?”

You gave a nonchalant shrug. “I��ll survive.”

Amy narrowed her eyes. “You always say that when you’re suppressing deep emotional turmoil.”

“Then you must be thrilled I’m so consistent.”

Amy smirked, then stood to stretch. “I wish I could move here too.”

You shook your head. “Yeah, like you’ll survive the quiet.”

She grimaced, standing up at once and heading for the stairs. You watched her climb upstairs with her heels click-clacking on the marble floor, smiling as she disappeared from view.

iv: The Bolter

You were halfway up the ladder, squinting against the late afternoon sun as you twisted the new bulb into the patio fixture. The scent of oranges permeated the warm air, sweet and delightful, and cicadas buzzed in the distance.

“Hey—careful,” came a voice behind you, gentle but urgent.

You turned slightly and found Sunghoon standing near the base of the ladder, brow furrowed. “You shouldn’t be up there,” he said. “What if you fall?”

You huffed a small laugh, focusing back on the bulb. “Then I’ll fall. And hopefully someone will find me before the birds do.”

He stepped closer, placing one hand on the side of the ladder without climbing. “Seriously. Get down. Let me do it.”

“It’s fine, I’m almost—” You gave the bulb a final twist and straightened. “Done.”

He exhaled through his nose like he didn’t quite believe you, but wasn’t going to argue. His hand stayed lightly on the ladder until you made it to the ground. You felt it—the worry in his eyes—before you even looked at him.

“Thanks,” you muttered.

He nodded, glancing up at the light fixture. “You always do these things by yourself?”

You shrugged. “Mostly. The handyman comes by when something major breaks.”

“Don’t you have someone who could help with this kind of thing?” he asked, rubbing the back of his neck. “A partner, or… someone?”

You scoffed. “Why? Because women shouldn’t be doing things like these?”

“That’s not what I said,” he said quickly. “I just meant you should be more careful and leave these tasks to other people.”

“Did you come here to boss me around?” you smirked, walking toward the shed with your toolbox. “Old habits die hard, huh?”

“I’m not bossing you around. I never did that,” he replied, following behind you. “You just don’t like being told what to do.”

“You know me so well,” you scoffed, digging through the shed for shears. “Good for you.”

You turned to him and handed him the shears with a crooked smile. “Here. Since you think I shouldn't be doing everything myself, you can help with the oranges.”

He took the shears without protest, the metal glinting faintly in the late afternoon light. You started toward the nearest tree, brushing your fingers against the low-hanging branches as you walked. The fruit was ripe, some already beginning to speckle with sunspots.

Sunghoon trailed behind, quiet except for the occasional snip of the shears. You didn’t offer instructions—he knew what to do. You remembered that much.

For a while, the only sounds were the rustle of leaves, the snap of stems, and the distant hum of insects. You filled a basket between you in silence, neither of you in a hurry.

“These trees are doing well,” he said eventually, pausing beside you to drop a few oranges into the bin. “I didn’t think they’d survive the dry season.”

You crouched down to pick one that had fallen between two roots. “They almost didn’t. I had to replant a few.” You dusted off the dirt and added it to the pile. “They’re tougher than they look.”

He glanced at you, and you knew it wasn’t about the oranges. But you didn’t acknowledge it. Sunghoon shifted his weight, rubbing his palm over his neck like he always did when he was thinking too hard. “It’s peaceful here.”

“It was,” you said dryly, then added, “Still is. Mostly.”

A faint smile tugged at his lips, but it faded quickly. He nodded and turned back to the tree, reaching for another cluster of oranges. “I didn’t expect to see you again so soon. But I figured, when I did… you’d look like this.”

You arched a brow. “Like what?”

He hesitated. “Like… settled. Happy.”

You didn’t respond right away, just adjusted the strap of the basket on your shoulder. “Yeah, life doesn’t just stop for anyone. It keeps going. But you know that already.”

Sunghoon didn’t say anything. Instead, he stepped forward, brushing past you to reach a particularly high branch. His arm stretched over your head, close enough for you to feel the warmth of him, but you didn’t move. He clipped the stem and handed the orange to you quietly.

You took it without meeting his eyes. “Thanks.”

“No problem,” he murmured. You placed the orange in the basket, then stood there for a few moments, letting the quiet stretch between you. You didn’t want to open your mouth and speak the words you were dying to say. But you needed to know.

You exhaled softly. “Are you going to tell me what you’re really doing here?”

He looked at you, lips pressed thinly together like he didn’t want to speak. You met his gaze. “Why are you here, Hoon? Why now?”

“No reason,” he said, though his voice was softer now. “I just wanted to see the island again. You know what it meant to me.”

You sighed. “I know, that’s why I’m asking you why. You came all the way out here, just to reminisce?”

He didn’t answer right away. You could see it—the hesitation behind his silence. Maybe he was debating what to say, or maybe he didn’t even know the answer himself.

“I don’t know,” he said eventually. “Still figuring that out,” he said quietly.

You scoffed, shaking your head. “Then figure it out somewhere else. I want nothing to do with you.”

You placed the basket of oranges down and turned to walk away. But then you paused, sighing to yourself. “Sunghoon,” you said, glancing back. He straightened, eyes hopeful.

“Don’t do that thing where you pretend we’re fine.”

His face fell, just slightly. “Okay,” he said softly. “Then I’ll do the thing where I hope we will be.”

You didn’t say anything else. Just walked away, the sun edging down the horizon, and the memories of your past heartbreak pressing hard against your chest.

v: “The Child”

In a small, dimly lit pub in the heart of the village, Jay, Jake, and Sunghoon had found a corner table near the back, enjoying the local cuisine and some drinks. It was by Jay’s recommendation, seconded by Sunghoon, who agreed that this place had the best food.

“So you’re all here by coincidence?” the pub owner asked, appearing at their table with a towel slung over her shoulder. She was in her fifties, with sharp eyes and a playful lilt to her voice.

Sunghoon smiled faintly. “Guess so.”

“I remember you,” she said, pointing at him. “You were here six years ago, weren’t you? Stayed a few weeks. Always ordered the sardines and left a good tip.”

Sunghoon smiled. “Yeah, that sounds like me.”

She turned to Jay. “I saw you here before, too, with the fancy yacht.” To Jake, she said, “You all know each other?”

Jake offered a polite smile. “We didn’t know each other until this week. We all thought she—uh, someone—had asked us to come.”

“Misunderstanding,” Sunghoon added flatly.

The woman let out a long, amused hmm. “Three strangers, all drawn back to the same place, for the same woman? That’s either bad luck or fate.”

Jay chuckled. “Feels a bit like both.”

The pub owner grinned. “Well, I’ve known her since she moved here. Lovely girl. Strong as hell. We all helped her when she had little Emma—Lord, that was a night.” She laughed to herself, then added fondly, “She did good, you know. Raising her child like that.”

That was when she tilted her head. “So…” she said slowly, eyes darting between the three of them, “which one of you is the dad?”

Silence fell all of a suddden. Sunghoon blinked. Jake choked on his beer. Jay just stared at her, lips parting but nothing coming out.

She laughed, waving a hand. “Oh, don’t all look so spooked. Just thought it was funny—all of you turning up like that. I figured one of you must’ve come back for your kid.”

Jake leaned forward. “Sorry—our kid? Are you saying one of us could be Emma’s dad?”

She blinked, then grinned. “So you don’t know?” She looked genuinely entertained now. “You did all sleep with her, yeah?”

The three of them exchanged stunned glances, which only made her laugh harder. “That’s the part I’m having trouble wrapping my head around. Young people really are something,” she said, already turning away. “Just don’t cause trouble for our girl while you’re here, alright?”

The three of them stepped out into the cooling evening air, the sea breeze curling through the narrow streets. They walked in silence at first, shoes scuffing against cobblestones, the buzz of the pub still echoing faintly behind them.

“She’s got your laugh, Jay,” Jake said suddenly. Jay and Sunghoon both turned to look at him.

“I mean—” Jake shrugged, a little sheepish now. “Emma. The kid.”

Jay lifted a brow. “You’ve barely spoken to her.”

“I know,” Jake said, hands jammed into his pockets. “But I heard her laugh.”

“You don’t think she’s yours?” Sunghoon asked Jake.

Jake shrugged. “I feel like she’s mine, but I also think she’s not. I mean, me and her mom only met briefly and you two seemed to have a longer history with her.”

Jay didn’t answer. He was looking up now, watching the clouds across a lilac sky. “A daughter. My own daughter. How odd.”

Jake gave him a sidelong glance. “You think she might be yours?”

Jay smirked faintly. “The timeline fits. And we did have a wild time together.”

Sunghoon scoffed. “None of that would have happened if I never left the island.”

Jay stopped walking and watched Sunghoon carefully. “So it was you?”

Sunghoon stopped too, glancing over his shoulder. “What do you mean?”

Jay narrowed his eyes, wagging his index finger. “The guy who left her in that state of despair six years ago.”

Sunghoon didn’t speak, but the way his jaw clenched and looked away made Jay snigger. “Knew it. Guess I owe you for that. If you hadn’t messed up, I wouldn’t have had my chance.”

They exchanged glances, Jay with a smug smirk on his lips and Sunghoon with darkened eyes, neither of them saying anything. Just a step behind, Jake was watching cautiously.

“Are you gonna punch each other in the face? Please don’t punch each other in the face,” he rambled. “I’m a pacifist, but physically pacifying two grown men fighting is not my best skill.”

Sunghoon glanced at him and smiled. “No. No one’s punching anyone.”

Jay nodded in agreement, and Jake visibly relaxed. Ahead, near the edge of the orange orchard, he spotted a small figure darting between the trees—Emma, the child they had all heard so much about.

“Emma!” he exclaimed, pointing at the orchard.

They all followed his finger, watching as Emma ran barefoot over the grass with two other kids, her hair bouncing, eyes bright with mischief. They all noticed how she tilted her head just like you did when you were thinking hard, and caught themselves smiling at the resemblance.

Sunghoon exhaled slowly. “We need to talk to her mom.”

Jake scratched the back of his neck. “We should, but she clearly doesn’t want us here.”

Jay nodded slowly, his gaze still on the orchard. “Makes sense now, doesn’t it? Why she was so cold. She’s been raising a kid this whole time and we show up out of nowhere?”

A long silence stretched between them, heavy with everything that needed not be spoken.

“Hi there,” came a voice behind them. They all turned. Amy stood there, smiling mischievously.

“Amy!” Jay exclaimed, chuckling nervously. “Didn’t see you there.”

Amy crossed her arms and raised an eyebrow. “Three grown men, spying on a little girl. I wonder what’s going on here?” she chimed, tilting her head playfully.

vi: “My Child?!”

It didn’t take much to convince Amy. Just one sincere talk beneath the stars, and Amy’s usual knack for stepping into matters she absolutely shouldn’t.

Okay, there was also a bribe of some sort from Jay too.

By morning, she and the three men had come to some sort of unspoken agreement, though you’d never hear the details from her. She wouldn’t tell you yet, but Amy agreed to gave the men time to get to know Emma. Little windows of time, a few stolen moments. A chance to see Emma from a distance without disrupting her world.

The girl remained blissfully unaware, chattering to her friends, running through trees, and sitting cross-legged on classroom floors while three very confused, very quiet men watched her and quietly lost their minds.

Jay had his time with her first. He was sitting outside the café in the square, dark sunglasses over his eyes, arms crossed as if he wasn’t creepily surveilling a six-year-old. Emma sat three tables away with a coloring book open in front of her and a glass of peach juice beside it—served, oddly, in a champagne flute.

“She refuses to drink from plastic,” Amy muttered, sipping her espresso beside him. “Told me once it was ‘unsightly.’ She’s six.”

Jay let out a faint snort. Emma was focused, brows pinched slightly, tongue poking out the corner of her mouth as she colored inside the lines. Not scribbles—clean, even strokes. Her sundress was bright. Her sandals were spotless. And when a tourist’s kid squealed nearby, Emma looked up with a flick of her lashes that Jay knew all too well.

“She might be mine,” he murmured, eyes focused on the kid. “What a terrifying thought.”

“Terrifying that she’s yours?” Amy asked dryly.

Jay nodded. “Yeah. I mean, can you imagine? Me? With a kid?”

Amy snorted. “You’d put her in designer overalls.”

Jay puffed his chest proudly. “She deserves nothing less.”

Sunghoon saw her later that afternoon, under the fig tree by the orchard. Emma was crouched in the dirt, arranging pebbles into a messy circle around something she’d scratched into the soil with a stick. A butterfly landed nearby. She didn’t move—just watched it in silence, eyes wide with wonder.

A woman came over, offering some pastry to Emma who immediately stood up to look at the food. When she scrunched up her nose at it, Sunghoon smiled to himself, recognizing that stubborn streak.

Amy stood beside him, arms crossed loosely. “She’s very picky. She hates raisins,” she offered. “Picks them out of everything. Cookies. Bread. Throws them at birds, sometimes.”

Sunghoon blinked. “Birds?”

“It’s her favorite animal. Always the highlight of her drawings.”

He didn’t answer. Just kept his eyes on Emma as she adjusted one final stone, then stood back to admire her handiwork. A small, crooked flower drawn in dirt, circled with mismatched pebbles. She clapped once, proud of herself.

Sunghoon smiled faintly. “She’s my daughter,” he said, soft enough that even Amy might not have caught it. “I know it.”

Jake saw her at the school library. Emma was curled on a beanbag in the corner, a book nearly as big as her lap open across her knees. Occasionally, she’d whisper something to herself, then giggle like she’d cracked a private joke. Her glasses kept slipping down her nose, and every few minutes she’d push them up again with an absent-minded jab of her finger.

“She likes logic puzzles,” Amy whispered from the next shelf. “Reads ahead in class.”

Jake watched in fascination as Emma turned a page and promptly bonked herself in the forehead with the stiff cardboard. She made a dramatic little “oof” sound, then looked around—saw no one had noticed—and laughed at herself.

“She’s smart,” Jake murmured, smiling despite himself. “And clumsy.”

Amy looked at him knowingly. “Like someone you know?”

Emma had already gone back to reading, entirely absorbed, glasses slipping again. He watched her, chest tugging strangely.

“I feel like she’s mine,” he said finally. “I mean, she’s smart, clumsy. Her demeanor reminds me of myself.”

None of them spoke it aloud to each other. But in their separate corners of the island, in different lights and at different times, they all began to wonder the same thing.

What if she really was my child?

vii: Exes and Whys

The first time you saw Emma hanging out with one of his potential fathers, you went batshit. You almost lashed out on Sunghoon—who was with her at the time, but Lea was able to stop you just in time before you could make a scene with your daughter present. Lea and Amy had to take the brunt of your anger.

Amy explained that all three of them had heard from someone that one of them could be Emma’s dad. It took some serious convincing—one which involved sitting your down while Lea and Amy held you on either arms to calm you down—before you eventually agreed that they deserved to at least get to know Emma.

That weekend, you watched Jay and Emma spend time together. They were crouched side-by-side at the back of the bookstore. You sat at the café next door, pretending to read while watching them through the open window. You didn’t like this idea at all, but you wanted to give it a chance.

Emma, legs swinging from the edge of a stepstool, flipped through a picture book while Jay knelt beside her, pointing at words and asking, “What do you think happens next?”

“She gets turned into a snail,” Emma replied seriously, like it was obvious.

Jay chuckled. “Solid twist.”

You lingered to watch them longer than you meant to. When Emma eventually noticed you, she ran up to join you with Jay in tow. He just smiled at you and said, “We found the weirdest book. It’s kind of amazing.”

You only offered a clipped nod before turning to Emma as she showed you the pictures in the book. Jake’s turn came with the weekly beach clean-up. He somehow ended up carrying Emma in one arm and a leaking bucket of seashells and rocks in the other, grinning despite the mess.

“I’m starting a rock museum,” Emma explained when she spotted you. “Uncle Jake’s the janitor.”

Jake wiped his sandy hands on his jeans. “I asked to be head of security, but apparently I wasn’t intimidating enough.”

You didn’t stay long, just long enough to see him trip over a bucket and nearly fall into the tide. Emma cackled, and you couldn’t help the reluctant smile that pulled at your lips. She was having fun. That’s all that mattered.

And then there was the art fair too. You’d gone mostly for the free churros, but Emma got sucked into the craft tent, and of course Sunghoon was there—already drawing with a group of overly ambitious kids.

When Emma wandered over to him, she handed him a stick of chalk and said, “Can you draw a castle?”

So he did. A sweeping, moss-covered thing, all turrets and arches, delicately shaded like it was made to be hung in museums. Emma crouched beside him, adding a purple dragon with uneven wings. You stood across the square, your heart crawling up into your throat. And when they stepped back to admire their work—her tiny hand brushing his—you had to look away.

Through it all, you kept your distance. Smiled when Emma came home with funny stories. Listened when she said she hoped she’d see “the bookstore guy” or “the rock guy” or “the drawing guy” again. And quietly braced yourself for the moment it would all become real. Because deep down, you knew it couldn’t go on like this forever.

“Uncle Jake’s silly. I like him.”

Your heart twisted a little. “You do?”

“Uh-huh. And I like Uncle Jay too. He said he’s got a big boat.”

You chuckled, running your hands gently through her hair. “Yeah, he does.”

“Your friends are not mean, Mom. They’re okay,” she added, beaming. “And did you know Uncle Hoonie is an architect?”

“I did.”

“He said architects draw houses and buildings. It’s cool.”

You smiled. “Do you wanna be an architect?”

“No,” she replied, shaking her head. “I want to be a marine biologist.”

“Oh?” you asked, propping yourself on your elbow. “What does a marine biologist do?”

She launched into a surprisingly detailed explanation about dolphins, seaweed, and how sharks weren’t actually evil. You listened, nodding along, trying not to think about how easy this all seemed for her. And how hard it still was for you.

The next morning, you told your friends about your conversation with Emma. It was late afternoon when the three of you gathered on the patio, just far enough from the orchard that your voices wouldn’t carry. You had lemonade in your glass, sunglasses on your head, and your jaw clenched just slightly as you watched Emma zip between the trees, her laugh echoing on the breeze.

Jay, Jake, and Sunghoon trailed after her like oversized puppies. Jake was trying to toss fallen oranges into a basket while Emma called out scores like a basketball referee. Sunghoon was crouched beside her, gently brushing dirt off her knees with a folded napkin. And Jay, of course, was doing the most Jay thing imaginable—standing a few feet away, watching it all quietly, sipping from a water bottle like he was above the chaos but secretly just shy around Emma.

“It’s Lover Boy,” Amy said, plucking a grape off the plate in front of her.

Lea blinked. “You said your vote is on Playboy.”

“That was when I hadn’t met Emma in the flesh yet,” Amy popped the grape in her mouth. “Now that she’s grown, and I’ve met Lover Boy, I’m pretty sure it’s him. She’s got her hatred for raisins to back it up, too.”

Lea snorted. “Nah. It’s Shy Boy. Emma’s being a massive klutz can only be explained by genetics.”

“Oh, so that’s hereditary now?” Amy asked, chuckling.

“It could be, who knows?” said Lea, shrugging. “I will say, though. She’s got Playboy’s eyes.”

You didn’t say anything. Just sipped your lemonade, eyes tracking Emma as she darted behind a tree, making all three men spin around to look for her.

“She’s got pieces of all of them,” Lea said after a moment. “Honestly, I can’t tell. She’s... Emma. You know?”

Amy nodded. “She takes after her mother a lot. Anyone would have a hard time guessing which one is her dad.”

There was a pause while you all watched Jake lift Emma onto his shoulders so she could try to reach a branch. She shrieked with laughter when he spun in a slow circle and nearly tripped over his own feet. Sunghoon instinctively reached out to steady them both, and Jay looked up from where he was sitting, brows furrowed in concern. The three men exchanged glances—then they all laughed.

“At least the three of them get along,” Lea commented. “Men are more civil than I thought.”

You hummed but said nothing, eyes lingering on Emma as she stuck out her tongue and made a silly face. She was glowing. She had no idea that her entire life might be shifting beneath her feet.

Amy nudged your elbow. “You okay?”

Before you could respond, you noticed Jay approaching, and quiet fell over your small circle. He slowed when he reached the edge of the patio, giving a polite nod to the others before looking at you.

“Hi,” he said, hands in his pockets.

“Oh wow, would you look at the time,” Lea said suddenly, standing up. “I need to check on the muffins!”

“Right. Muffins in the oven. Burning. Very urgent,” Amy said, scrambling up after her.

Jay smirked as he watched your friends scramble away on purpose. “I love your friends. They’re very tactful.”

You scoffed. “And very nosy too.”

“Yeah, I can see that,” Jay agreed, sitting on the chair Lea had just vacated. “So, Shy Boy, Lover Boy, and Playboy.” Your brows furrowed, but you didn’t say anything.

“Nice nicknames. Who came up with it?” he grinned, leaning back on the chair and crossing his legs. “Let me guess, Lea?”

You couldn’t help laughing. “Yeah. But where did you even hear that? Have you been eavesdropping this whole time?”

“No, but I’ve heard it a few times in passing. I mean, obviously I’m Playboy,” he said, pointing to himself. “Jake’s definitely Shy Boy. And that makes Sunghoon your Lover Boy.”

He turned to you, grinning mischievously. “He was the guy who broke your heart, right? I ought to thank him. That summer changed my life.”

You rolled your eyes. “Are you here to gossip, Playboy?”

“No,” he said, shaking his head and leaning in. “I’m here to ask why you never told me she might be mine.”

Your mind stopped functioning for a second, completely caught off guard by the question and the way he dropped it so casually. You opened your mouth to speak, but didn’t. You just took a deep breath and looked away.

Of course. This conversation was doomed to come.

viii: Thank You, Next

You’d never seen her this happy. Emma had always been bright, quick to laugh, quick to love, but this was different. This was lit-from-within, cheeks-pink-from-running, never-stopping-to-breathe kind of joy. You’d opted to let the three of them check into the BNB so they could spend more time with her.

Emma tore through the orchard like it had been made for her. Hair in a frizzy ponytail, arms flapping like wings, cheeks flushed from the heat. And trailing behind her like loyal satellites were the three men she’d only just met.

Jake was her obvious favorite at first. He’d found an old chalkboard and some planks and convinced her they could build a lemonade stand, even though he had no real plan and kept hammering nails crookedly.

“You’re doing it all wrong,” she scolded, tapping the plank he’d just attached.

“I’m not!” Jake said, offended. “I saw someone do it this way and it worked out fine.”

Sunghoon, naturally, had to take over. Inside the house, you pulled the laundry off the line and folded it stiffly. You paused when you heard her laugh again—clear as glass—and glanced out the kitchen window.

Jay was under the fig tree with her now, holding a clipboard and pencil. He was showing her how to draw a map of the orchard. She leaned close to study his handwriting, her forehead creasing a little in concentration. He watched her like he didn’t want to blink.

When you stepped out onto the porch with a basket of folded sheets, Sunghoon was crouched near the steps, gently wiping dirt from Emma’s scraped knee with a napkin. She sniffled but didn’t cry. He smiled at her, whispering something you couldn’t hear, and she nodded solemnly before getting up and dashing off to find the others.

Sunghoon stood slowly and noticed you. “You’ve got a few loose planks back there,” he said quietly, pointing to a spot behind the house. “I could fix them. It wouldn’t take long.”

You didn’t meet his eyes. “I’ve lived with them this long.”

“I know. But I’m here now.” That made you look at him. His face hadn’t changed—still calm, still thoughtful—but there was meaning behind those words. Like an apology, or a promise, or both.

“I’m not gonna play house with you, Sunghoon.”

“That’s not what I’m doing,” he said calmly. “I just… want to help.”

“Well, don’t,” you replied, lips pressing into a thin line. He nodded once and stepped back.

That evening, the lemonade stand had collapsed, the map was unfinished, and Emma had declared herself “Queen of Orange Land.” She demanded a crown. Sunghoon made one out of wildflowers. Jake gave her a sticker badge. Jay carried her on his shoulders as she waved at no one.

From the patio, you watched it all. Arms crossed, with an unreadable expression. You’d spent six years guarding your peace. Six years building a world that revolved around you and your daughter, just you two, always. And now these men had arrived, pulling at old threads. Disturbing your peace.

Jake approached you later, holding out a glass of lemonade like a peace offering. “Hi.”

You took the glass without looking at him. “Thanks.”

“She’s a lot like you,” Jake said. “Bold, smart, very pretty. She has big dreams, too. Like you.”

You didn’t say anything, just quietly sipped on your lemonade. Jake continued. “Remember in Paris? You said you wanted to run your own hotel and—”

“I don’t remember,” you cut in.

His smile dropped for just a second. “Right. Well… Back then, I said I’m gonna stay in your hotel as a guest. And—”

“Stop it, Jake,” you replied without missing a beat. “There is a chance that you might be Emma’s dad, and if you were, you could be a dad to her if you want. But that’s between you and her. That relationship doesn’t extend to me.”

You rose to your feet and left before he could say anything. You heard him call out to you, but you didn’t look back.

Later that night, long after Emma had passed out in bed, you ran into Jay in the hallway. He was barefoot, hair damp from a shower, heading toward the kitchen.

He noticed you first. “Still mad at me?”

You walked past him without stopping. “No.”

Jay turned, surprised. “Really?”

“That would require emotion.”

He didn’t smile. “Got it.”

As you walked away, you remembered how he asked you a few days ago why you didn’t tell him about Emma. You remembered being unable to say anything in response. Jay said it was fine and that he would wait until you were ready to tell him.

“But as you know, I’m a busy man and I’m not very patient,” he’d said at the time, basically giving you a deadline, and you didn’t appreciate that at all.

ix: “I Don't Spend Time Wondering About the Past”

The sun had set. Emma had fallen asleep after a tantrum over popsicle colors—red was the only acceptable flavor, apparently—and for the first time all day, the house was quiet. You were in the kitchen twisting at a jam jar with far too much effort, when Jake walked in.

“Need help?” he asked, smiling.

You jumped a little. “I got it,” you said, grunting once before giving up. “Okay, no, I don’t. I think the lid’s glued shut.”

He took the jar, twisted once, and popped it open. You stared at him like he’d just performed a magic trick. “I loosened it,” you said defensively.

He handed it back with a smile. “Yes, you did. Great job.”

The compliment caught you off guard, and you looked down at the jar in your hands, like you had suddenly forgotten why you wanted jam in the first place. Jake noticed your expression.

“Sorry. It just came out,” he said after a second. “My fiancee says she doesn’t know if I mean them sometimes, or if I’m just complimenting her out of habit.”

You glanced at him. “Fiancée? You’re engaged?”

Jake nodded, almost bashfully. “Since December. She’s great. Very not-me, which is probably why it works.”

“Congratulations,” you said, feeling a genuine warmth in your heart.

He looked at you, serious now. “I didn’t come to bother you or anything. I’m sorry if I made you feel that way.” You flattened your lips together and shrugged.

“I was just really surprised to get that letter,” he added, chuckling softly. “And I came because it sounded urgent, and I wanted to help with whatever it was. You didn’t give me details, just that you wanted me to come as soon as I can.”

“I know,” you replied, shaking your head at yourself. “That was kind of the point. And I did need your help at the time, but things got better.”

“What did happen?” he asked, leaning on the counter. “If you don’t mind me asking.”

You sighed and looked at him, really looked at him. Jake had been a sweetheart when you first met. He was a clumsy, nervous wreck, but he was endearing. You had your best memories of Paris with him, but he probably had the worst memory of you leaving him with nothing but a note. He didn’t deserve the hostility he got from you the first time you saw him again after six long years.

“Emma was sick, really sick,” you confessed. “I didn’t know what to do. I panicked. And for the first time, I thought… maybe she needs her dad.”

You looked away. “But like I said, things got better. So I didn’t have to send those letters after all.”

Jake hummed, nodding as he took in the information. “I followed you here, you know. Six years ago.” He said after a few seconds. “But Corsica is a big island and I didn’t know where to look, so, I gave up and went back home.”

“I’m sorry.”

“No, don’t be. I wasn’t upset about it,” he chuckled, then paused to think. “Well, I was, a little bit. And it took a while to recover from the bruised ego I got that day.”

He glanced over. “Can I ask you something?” You nodded.

“Did you hate it? That night?” Jake let out a shaky laugh. “I just—I’ve thought about it a lot. About how I must’ve said the wrong thing or done something wrong. And I’ve always wondered if you left because of that.”

“No,” you said quickly. “No, it wasn’t like that. I didn’t hate it. I just…”

You took a breath, then admitted quietly, “You scared me. When you said you were in love with me.”

“Huh…” He nodded, seemingly coming to a realization. “I get it. Looking back now, it was kind of a stupid thing to say.”

You snorted. “Yeah. It was.”

“But that’s all in the past,” he declared, exhaling. “And I didn’t come here for a second shot at this, or anything. I just really thought you needed help, and our time might be short, but to me, you’re an old friend. I like helping old friends.”

You smiled at that, genuinely moved. Then he added, “And of course, after finding out about Emma, I had to stay. I needed to stay. The idea that I could be a father is just… I don’t know. Exciting and scary at the same time.”

You didn’t reply right away. Just watched him, this man who used to be a charming, blabbering mess, now standing in your kitchen talking about being a father. “I think you’ll be a good one,” you said at last.

Jake smiled, softer than before. “I hope so.”

“Not just with Emma,” you added, and you meant it. “You’ll be a wonderful dad to your kids, Jake.”

“Thank you,” he said, bashfully scratching the back of his neck. His ears had turned a little pink. “I’d love me a daughter. I’d spoil her rotten.”

You sighed. “If Emma turns out to be yours, please don’t spoil her too much. She’s already spoiled enough as it is. I can’t even.”

Jake snorted. “She’s not that bad.”

You gave him a look. “She threw a fit over popsicle colors. Colors, Jake.”

He laughed, loud and boyish. “Right. She did.”

You smiled despite yourself. Just for a second, it felt like old times again—comfortable, uncomplicated, and a little silly. But only for a second.

The night was still and quiet. Cool air clung to your skin as you stepped onto the porch, barefoot, holding a half-empty mug of tea. You’d part ways with Jake after a hearty chat, and Jay was nowhere to be found ever since Emma fell asleep. So, you weren’t expecting to see anyone else.

But there he was, crouched at the edge of the yard, a flashlight balanced between his knees and a screwdriver in his hand, fussing over the fence. You blinked. “I told you to leave it.”

Sunghoon looked up, startled. “Sorry. Couldn’t sleep.”

You took a slow sip. “Didn’t realize you packed a toolbox.”

He glanced down at the pitiful setup: a multitool, a roll of twine, and what looked suspiciously like a spoon. “Improvising.”

You scoffed under your breath and stepped down from the porch, walking over to the shed nearby. “The toolbox is here.”

He followed you quietly to the shed. You flicked on the light, crouched, and pulled out the battered red toolbox from under a shelf. “Here,” you said, setting it down at his feet.

“Thanks,” he murmured, kneeling beside it.

He opened the lid, hesitant, like it felt wrong to accept even this small gesture from you. You turned on your heel to leave, but he spoke before you could take a step.

“You don’t have to stay,” he said. “But I wouldn’t mind the company.”

You considered him for a second, then walked out without a word. He took that as a no. Ten minutes later, you were back with your mug refilled, your sleeves pushed up, and a blanket tossed over one shoulder.

“Is it that hard? Or are you just slow?” you asked flatly.

He didn’t smile, but you saw his lips twitch. “Just trying not to wake everyone.”

You set your mug down on the steps and sat, knees pulled up. You didn’t know why you came back. Maybe it was the quiet, or the way his voice had sounded—not desperate, just inviting. And familiar.

You watched him work. He was careful with his hands, looping the twine where a nail was missing, reinforcing the base with wood from a broken crate you’d nearly thrown out. He moved quietly, methodically, and with expertise like the handyman that you remembered him to be.

“You still like fixing things that don’t concern you?” you asked before you could stop it.

He glanced at you, surprised. “Only the ones I have a shot at fixing.”

You didn’t reply. But the words stayed with you, nestled somewhere in your chest like a jab you were sure he didn’t mean to throw. “You always did think everything is a fixer-upper,” you mumbled bitterly, looking away and taking a sip.

The night stretched on. A few crickets chirped in the distance. Sunghoon finished tying off the last bit of twine, wiped his hands on his jeans, then came to sit beside you on the steps. Not too close.

“How have you been?” he asked, voice low. “All these years.”

You took a sip of your tea. “Fine.”

He didn’t press. That was how he always was—patient, never pushing. And maybe that was part of the problem. Back then, he’d waited too long to be honest. By the time he said something you needed to hear, it had already been too late.

Now here he was again, waiting. Sitting beside you like no time had passed. You pulled the blanket tighter around your shoulders. “Emma likes having you around.”

A small smile crossed his lips. “She’s incredible. Bright. Funny. Stubborn as hell. Bet she gets that from you.”

You scoffed, though you were unable to hide your smile.

“She also has a big heart,” he added, looking at you. “And big dreams, like you.”

You looked away. The stars were dull tonight, almost invisible.

“I didn’t think I’d be back here,” he said after a while. “But I’m glad I am.”

You said nothing. He continued. “I’ve missed this... Being around you.”

You looked at him then. At the soft way his features caught the porch light, at the steadiness in his gaze, even when he wasn’t meeting yours. At the man he’d become, or maybe always was, and you just hadn’t seen it through the pain of what didn’t work out.

“I don’t know what you want from me, Sunghoon,” you said quietly.

“I don’t want anything,” he replied. “I just want to be here… if you’ll let me.”

You didn’t respond. Not yes, not no. Just reached for your mug again, letting the warmth seep into your hands, into your chest. It was easier not to go there—not with him, not with anyone. Those memories were too bright and too warm. Too dangerous.

After a while, Sunghoon said, “Sometimes I wonder if I could’ve done anything different. Stayed a little longer. Said something sooner.”

You didn’t move. Didn’t look at him. “I don’t spend time wondering about the past,” you said before rising to your feet and walking away.

But you did spend time wondering about the past. More often than you cared to admit.

x: “Boyfriend Olympics”

After a restless night and too much thinking, the beach felt like the only place wide enough to hold all the noise in your head. So you walked there early the next morning. The tide was low, and the sand was damp beneath your feet. The breeze smelled like salt and oranges. It was early enough that the sun was still halfway behind the hills, casting a soft glow across the water. You stopped near the shore and closed your eyes for a moment, just breathing it in.

“Well, if it isn’t my favorite girl on this island.”

You turned, unsurprised to find Jay strolling your way—barefooted, linen shirt unbuttoned all the way down, hair a tousled mess like he’d just rolled out of bed and decided to head to the beach first.

“Okay. Second favorite,” he corrected himself. “Emma’s first. Obviously.”

You gave him a look. “Don’t you have something better to do?”

“What could be better than running into you on this fine morning?” he asked back, joining you by the water.

You sighed through your nose and kept walking, letting the waves graze your ankles. Jay fell into step beside you like it was the most natural thing in the world.

“I saw you sneak out this morning,” he said. “Fishy.”

“I wasn’t sneaking out. It’s my house, my home. I do whatever I want.”

“Okay, someone woke up grumpy,” he teased. “What happened? Lover’s quarrel with Shy Boy or Lover Boy?”

You turned to give him a deadpan expression. Jay grinned. “What? It couldn’t be me. I’m perfect. I’d never quarrel with you.”

You snorted. “You’re many things, Jay. Perfect is not one of them.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment.” He stretched lazily, arms overhead. “So what are we doing today?”

“We?” you echoed, arching a brow.

“Yes, we. Don’t be selfish. Count me in.”

You shook your head, walking faster, if only to end the conversation. “I came here to be alone.”

“And look how well that turned out,” he said easily, falling into step beside you. “Come on. You haven’t eaten, have you?”

Truthfully, you hadn’t. But your stomach wasn’t the one making noise—it was your mind. Still echoing with words left unsaid on the porch. Jay was watching you like he already knew that.

“Why?” you asked finally.

“Because I’m starving,” he said, like it was obvious. “And I know this place just around the island. Best pastries I’ve ever had.”

You gave him a look. He gave one right back. “And you could use a distraction. Didn’t they say carbs cure everything? Especially for grumpy women?”

You scoffed under your breath. ��No, thanks.”

You turned to continue walking, but a loud, unmistakable grumble made you stop. It was coming from your belly, making you place your hand instinctively over it. Behind you, Jay chuckled in satisfaction.

“See? You need to eat. Come on.” He grabbed your hand with a smile, and you let him drag you back to his boat just by the docks. You followed reluctantly, but not unhappily.

Guess this was better than returning to the house. To the quiet rooms and the questions you weren’t ready to ask yourself yet.

The boat was different from what you remembered from summers past, but the vibe was nearly identical—sleek, spotless, with that casual arrogance that seemed woven into the very leather of the seats. A floating extension of Jay himself.

“What happened to the other one?” you asked as he helped you aboard.

“Sold it,” he replied casually. “It was getting boring, so I had to get a new one.”

You scoffed, rolling your eyes at his unchanging attitude. “Of course you did.”

He laughed, unfazed, and nodded at the captain onboard. They exchanged a few quick words while you looked around, then the engine rumbled to life, and the boat pulled smoothly from the dock. You leaned against the railing, letting the breeze blow through your hair.

It was strange, how easy it was to fall into old rhythms with Jay. Like no time had passed at all. But time had passed. Years of it. And not all of them kind.

The ride was short, maybe twenty minutes around the island, but smooth and indulgent—like most things in Jay’s life. He talked the whole time, mostly nonsense, from complaining about the awful airline food he endured on the way here to ranking the best gelato spots in Corsica. He claimed to be an expert, though you were sure he was mixing up two different towns. You didn’t mind. It was welcome noise, and it kept your mind from drifting too far back into the night before.

They docked at a small port just off the main road, where a sleepy little restaurant with blue-striped umbrellas waited, already smelling of butter and espresso. You chose the table closest to the water. Jay insisted on pulling your chair out with exaggerated courtesy. You rolled your eyes but sat anyway, draping your blanket loosely over your lap. A waitress brought out a basket of warm bread and two menus.

“I’ll have whatever she’s having,” Jay said as the waitress approached, his tone casual but his eyes still on you.

You didn’t meet his gaze. “You don’t even know what I want.”

“I know you have good taste. I trust you.”

You glanced up at him then, just briefly. Jay always said things like that. Like none of it ever cost him anything. “You picked this place,” you said, eyes back on the menu. “Shouldn’t you be the one with recommendations?”

He only shrugged, smiling. “Doesn’t matter. I trust you.”

You rolled your eyes again, but the corners of your mouth twitched. After placing your orders, you took a moment to look around. The restaurant had brick walls and wooden beams overhead, mismatched chairs and wobbly tables, potted plants hanging on the eaves. It had that classic Corsican charm—weathered, warm, and beautiful.

You bit back a smile and looked out at the sea. “This place is nice.”

“It’s better with company,” Jay said, leaning back with his arms stretched along the seat, completely at ease.

You shot him a look. “Well, obviously you’re always surrounded by company.”

“Not your company,” he said smoothly.

You gave a noncommittal hum, breaking off a piece of bread. “Flirting before breakfast. Bold of you.”

“Flirting? Who’s flirting?” he asked, mock offended. “I’m just appreciating the view.”

You gave him a flat stare. Jay grinned. “Hey, it’s not my fault you’re easy on the eyes. You should apologize for that.”

You snorted. “You haven’t changed at all.”

He reached for a slice of bread, tearing into it like it was a croissant at a Paris café. “Sure, I have. I’ve matured. I drink my espresso black now. I read the news.”

You raised an eyebrow. He grinned wider. “Okay, I skim headlines. But still. Personal growth.”

You shook your head, laughing despite yourself, and that only made his grin widen. “There it is,” he said. “I’ve been trying to get a laugh out of you for days.”

You looked at him then, caught off guard by the simple truth of that statement. “How have you been?” he asked when you didn’t say anything.

You hesitated, but only for a second. “I’ve been okay. Busy. Tired. But okay.”

Jay nodded. “Motherhood looks good on you.”

You rolled your eyes but felt your shoulders loosen just a little. Maybe it was the sun. Or the coffee. Or Jay’s ridiculousness. “What about you?” you asked, cutting into your food. “Still cruising through life with no plans?”

Jay hummed thoughtfully. “More or less. No wife. No kids. No fixed address. You know me. I like the freedom. Wake up wherever I want. Say yes to whatever I want. No five-year plan. No mortgage.”

You raised a brow. “Living the dream, huh?”

“Something like that.” He gave you a slow smile. “Though… I might be willing to settle down. For the right person. You know, someone who cooks. Someone like you.”

You gave him a look, unimpressed but amused. “I don’t cook.”

“Ah,” he said, feigning disappointment. “There goes my dream.”

You chuckled, shaking your head as you took a bite.

“I’m serious, though,” he said, grinning. “Don’t you feel lucky? You could be the one to tame me.”

“I think I’d rather wrestle a crocodile.”

Jay laughed, tossing a sugar packet at you. “Don’t knock it till you’ve tried it.”

You shook your head, biting into a still-warm pastry and letting the silence settle for a moment. His words echoed faintly in your mind—the right person—but you didn’t give them space to take root. Not now.

The sun had climbed higher now, and the light on the water shimmered like glass. You exhaled quietly, letting yourself enjoy the moment. Just for now.

The breakfast with Jay had ended the way most things with him did—on a laugh, with one too many compliments. He walked you back to the docks like a gentleman, offered you his jacket when the wind picked up, and only let go of your hand once he helped you down from the boat.

“You sure you don’t want to grab lunch too?” he asked, hopeful.

“It’s nine in the morning.”

“Exactly. Gives us plenty of time to work up an appetite.” He wiggled his eyebrows suggestively. “If you know what I mean.”

You scoffed. “Keep your dick in your pants. Don’t just go around brandishing it to every girl you meet.”

Jay grinned like he was being tickled. “So territorial. Exactly how I like my women.”

You rolled your eyes, but the smile tugging at your lips gave you away. “Bye, Jay.”

Back at the house, you barely had time to slip your shoes off before you heard someone knocking out back. You peeked through the window. Sunghoon, holding a sack of soil in one hand and a small potted herb in the other.

You stepped out, and he gave you a small, wordless smile before heading toward the garden bed like it was the most normal thing in the world. When you asked what he was doing, he only said, “The basil was dying. Figured you’d want fresh ones.” You didn’t say thank you. But you brought him a glass of water anyway.

That became the pattern. Jay would show up late mornings or just after lunch, always with something in hand—coffee, pastries, once even a new pair of designer sunglasses he claimed were on sale from the mainland. He flirted shamelessly, but never crossed the line.

“You’re the only woman I’ve ever met who looks good rolling her eyes at me,” he said once, after catching you doing exactly that. “Dangerous, really.”

You swatted him with a dish towel. He looked like he might thank you for it.

Sunghoon, in contrast, never announced his visits. He just showed up. Fixing the busted shutter. Watering the trees before you could. Replacing the broken porch light without saying a word. He never tried to be noticed, which just made it harder not to notice him.

When Emma asked Jay to help with a school art project, he brought glitter. So much glitter. The three of you spent half the afternoon scraping it off the floor.

When Emma asked Sunghoon, he brought her to the orchard, showed her how to press flowers between books. Taught her the names of each one like they were old friends.

You found them that evening at the table, heads bent over an album they’d made from scratch. She called it ‘Island Things That Make Me Happy.’ The last page had a pressed bloom labeled Mom’s smile. You didn’t ask who picked that one.

Jay took you and Emma on short boat rides when the weather was good. Taught her how to steer while you sat beside them, bare feet up on the seat, pretending not to enjoy it too much.

Sunghoon walked with you both through the orchard when it was too hot to do anything else. Sometimes he said nothing for minutes at a time. And it wasn’t awkward. It was just peaceful and satisfying.

They were opposites in every way. Jay loud and golden, like the blinding sun at noon. Sunghoon was quiet and constant, like the breeze you didn’t feel until it was gone.

And you? You kept your heart carefully tucked away, and you were starting to feel it stir---in laughter that slipped out before you could stop it. In the way your eyes found them without meaning to. In the little moments between breath and memory, it felt almost comforting to imagine what might’ve been if things had gone differently.

“So... who’s winning the boyfriend Olympics?”

You nearly choked on your drink. Amy snorted. “Yeah, we’ve been keeping score.”

You gave them both a flat look from across the kitchen island. “That’s ridiculous.”

But even you had to admit, the past few days had taken a turn. Jay had declared open season on flirtation, popping up everywhere you went—elbowing his way into your errands, offering dramatic compliments every time you so much as tied your hair up. Sunghoon, though he didn’t say much, would always show up when you needed someone, fixing things around the house and helping in any way he could without being asked.

Different approaches. Same intentions.

“She blushes more around Jay,” Lea whispered behind her wineglass.

“No, no,” Amy countered, eyes narrowing through the open shutters. “Watch her when Sunghoon’s around. She goes all weird and soft.”

Jake, who had been half-listening while Emma played with his shoelaces under the table, finally spoke up. “Honestly? I’m just glad no one’s betting on me. That would be a very sad chart.”

Lea laughed. “Please, you’re clearly the fan favorite in the under-six category.”

Jake raised both hands in surrender. “What can I say? Emma has excellent taste.”

“Knock it off,” you told your friends as you sat on the chair next to Jake’s. “No one’s winning whatever competition you think is happening here.”

Amy nudged Jake’s arm with a mischievous grin. “Come on, Jake. If you had to choose—Team Playboy or Team Lover Boy?”

Jake blinked. “Why are you asking me? And wait, Playboy and Lover Boy? What’s my nickname?”

“Shy Boy, of course,” Lea replied, and that made Jake grimace.

“Come on, Shy Boy. Pick a side,” Amy said cheerfully. “You have to because you’re already here… And because you gave up too easily.”

Jake frowned. “I didn’t give up. I was never in the running. Didn’t even have the intention of joining.”

“Oh please,” Lea chimed in, eyes sparkling. “You had a head start. You were the first candidate. First night. First everything. And now look at you—sidelined, like a retired soccer player coaching kiddie league.”

Jake narrowed his eyes at her. “Wow. Okay. That was a little offensive.”

Amy cackled, clearly delighted. “Look at him. He’s sulking.”

“I’m not sulking,” Jake muttered. Then he paused, glanced down at Emma, tangled around his foot, and sighed. “I’m just a maybe-dad, happily engaged, trying to eat a muffin in peace.”

Lea made a show of whispering in Amy’s ear. “He’s sulking,” she said loudly.

You laughed when Jake’s brows furrowed deeper. Then, trying to de-escalate the teasing, you told them to stop. “That’s enough, girls. It’s never gonna happen.”

All three of them looked at you. “They could have pieces of Emma. But none of them are getting another piece of me,” you declared, which was more of a reminder to yourself than to anyone else. You caught Jake’s gaze beside you.

You playfully narrowed your eyes at him and pointed with your index finger. “Not even you, Shy Boy.”

He groaned dramatically. “Oh, come on! I said I’m not—” he huffed, giving all three of you a flat look. “Whatever,” he muttered finally, biting into his pastry with another huff.

The girls burst into laughter again, and Jake muttered something through a mouthful of muffin. Outside, the sun climbed higher over the garden, where Jay’s lounging by the fountain and Sunghoon kept quietly working in the dirt, unaware—or maybe perfectly aware—of the scoreboard inside.

xi: Shoreline Shenanigans

The night was warm and glittering, the sky clear and wide above the orange orchard as lanterns swayed in the breeze. Lea had gone all out with the decorations, stringing up lights between trees, setting up a long table draped with linen and wildflowers. Music was playing from a speaker, and the air was rich with grilled food, wine, and overlapping conversations. It was Amy’s last night on the island, and she was determined to make it count.

“Come on, one more round!” she shouted, raising her glass from where she stood atop a chair. “Here’s to endless summers and hoping wrinkles and fine lines don’t show on our faces until we’re eighty!”

Everyone laughed and drank to that—including you, seated between Jake and Lea with Emma fast asleep in Jake’s lap, a flower crown lopsided on her tiny head. Jay was across the table, looking like he belonged in a magazine spread—tan, teeth flashing, wineglass in hand. Sunghoon stood near the grill, quietly flipping skewers, but he paused to honor Amy’s toast.

You and Jake brought Emma upstairs, making sure she was sound asleep before rejoining the party. The night blurred sweetly—giggles and half-shouted conversations, music thumping louder, Amy pulling you into a spin, Jay joining with a twirl that nearly knocked over a candelabra.

Past midnight, your girls were lying on blankets under the stars, too drunk to form coherent sentences. Amy had pulled Jake onto the grass with them, drunkenly urging him to take a group photo. You wandered away from the crowd, down the winding stone steps to the beach, where the music faded into background noise. The sea stretched before you, dark and quiet, and the breeze carried the faint smell of salt and sand.

“You’re sneaking off again,” came Jay’s voice behind you.

You turned to see him leaning against the railing of the stone steps, wineglass still in hand but half-empty now. He looked softer in the moonlight. Less like a flirt and more real.

“And you’re stalking me,” you said, scoffing.

Jay smirked, stepping closer. “Guilty. But only because every time I blink, you vanish. Starting to think you’re avoiding me on purpose.”

“I am.”

That made him laugh. “You’re very honest. Would it hurt to sugarcoat things a little?”

You chuckled, then turned your gaze back to the sea, arms folded loosely over your chest. The waves lapped at the sand gently. “Shouldn’t you be back up there? Being charming?”

“I should be, but there’s no point since you’re not there anymore,” he replied without missing a beat.

You let out a dry laugh. “You are such a flirt.”

He shrugged. “Don’t you already know that?”

“Yes, and it still surprises me every time,” you sighed, tutting. “I gotta get better at that.”

You glanced at him then, and he was already looking at you. The smile he gave you was gentler this time. “Think me sticking around would help you get lots of practice with that?”

“Probably,” you said half-heartedly, shrugging.

“No, but seriously,” he beamed, tilting his head as he looked at you. “Would you?”

You snorted. “You’re not seriously talking about staying, are you?”

Jay shrugged, pushing one hand in his pocket as he finished the contents of his glass. You blinked, genuinely perplexed.

“Whatever, Jay,” you muttered, rolling your eyes.

Jay fixed his gaze to the sea, considering. “Maybe I’m serious. Or maybe I’m just floating ideas. Who knows, I might finally be ready to be someone’s stable domestic guy. You know? Have kids. Grow tomatoes. Settle down.”

You laughed. “Settle down?”

He grinned. “I could even do the whole marriage proposal surprise thing. Maybe a grand church wedding on top of a hill, too.”

You looked at him, trying to read the expression behind the smile. “You’re joking.”

“I’m not.” He laughed lightly. “Okay, maybe I am. But it’s not a bad idea. I’d definitely give it a try for you.”

You stared at him, mouth parted slightly, not sure if you were supposed to laugh or run. He was joking. He had to be. It was Jay, after all. Jay, who flirts like it’s his life’s calling—who didn’t do ‘serious’, who didn’t believe in marriage or love, let alone surprise proposals and weddings on hills. And even if he meant any of it, even a little, you didn’t want to believe it.

He took a step closer, but didn’t touch you. Just looked at you like he was waiting for something. You blinked, tilting your chin up to meet his gaze. “You shouldn’t say things like that.”

“Why not?”

You didn’t answer. And then he moved slowly, deliberately, reaching to place his hands on your shoulders. You knew what was coming. Could’ve stepped back. Should’ve.

But you didn’t. You stayed frozen in place, caught somewhere between disbelief and curiosity, until his mouth brushed softly against yours. It was fleeting, too quick, almost like it didn’t happen at all. When you didn’t move or react, he came back for more.

The next kiss was nothing like the first. His hands found your waist, pulling you closer until your body was pressed against his. His mouth moved against yours like he’d been waiting to taste you all night.

You gasped into him, one hand flying up to grip his shoulder, the other threading into his hair. He groaned when your hips grazed him, walking you backwards until your spine hit the stone wall behind you.

Then his hands started moving. His fingers slid beneath your shirt, his palms hot against your bare skin as they roamed your back, your sides, your hips. You clung to him, legs slightly parting to let him press in closer, and he did—grinding into you with a slow roll of his hips that made your breath catch.

“Shit,” he muttered against your mouth.

You felt drunk, even though you weren’t. Dizzy, lit up from the inside out. Jay pulled away just enough to look at you and utter your name like a prayer.

Then you were kissing him again, deeper this time, like you couldn’t help it. His hand cupped the back of your neck, tilting your face to kiss you harder and rougher. His other hand slipped down, gripping your thigh, dragging it up against his hip—and you let him, desperate for more of that friction, of that hard, raging bulge between his legs.

You were losing yourself. You wanted to lose yourself. And maybe you would’ve—if not for that voice in the back of your head. The one that reminded you of the promise you made to yourself.

You pulled back, gasping, lips swollen and fingers still tangled in his shirt. Jay’s chest rose and fell against yours. “Hey,” he said breathlessly. “What’s wrong?”

You shook your head. “I can’t… Jay, I can’t do this.”

He blinked. The confusion hit first, then frustration. “Why not?”

“Because,” you whispered, stepping back, shoving your hands through your hair. “I said I wouldn’t. I can’t. I’m not supposed to—”

“To what?” he asked, voice low. “Feel something?”

Your heart raced in your chest. But you didn’t answer. You didn’t even look at him again. You needed air. You needed distance. You needed to get out of your own head.

You turned and ran barefoot across the sand and up the stairs, heartbeat roaring in your ears. You continued to run up the path until the music was faded and the lights from the party were nothing but soft specks in the distance.

You didn’t stop until your feet hit sand again. Until the beach opened up in front of you again. And you found someone already there—Sunghoon, standing by the shore, surprised at your sudden appearance.

Great, another storm, waiting for you.

“Hey,” he called out, brows furrowing with concern when he noticed your expression. He stepped closer. “Are you okay? Are you—are you crying?”

You hadn’t even noticed the tears. Not until his hand came up to gently brush one from your cheek. You slapped it away, then turned your back to him, dragging your sleeve across your face.

“What are you doing here, Hoon?” you muttered.

“I… I was here first,” he said, voice cautious. He tried to close the distance again, but you took a step back. “What happened? What are you running from?”

You laughed bitterly, wrapping your arms around yourself and looking down at your bare feet. “God, don’t start with that.”

Sunghoon sighed, but didn’t say anything. He walked over to you, taking off his sandals and offering it at your feet. You stared at it for a moment, then at him.

“Please. Just take them,” he said softly. “It’s cold.”

You didn’t take the sandals. You didn’t move at all. Just stood there, arms still wrapped tightly around yourself, refusing to look at him. Sunghoon didn’t insist. He just left them at your feet and turned away, hands in his pockets, gaze flitting toward the cliffs.

Above you, perched on the hill, your house glowed faintly through the trees—lit up like a beacon against the dark cliffs. The old haunted mansion, now bright and lively, strung with fairy lights and memories.

“You remember that night?” he said quietly. “We sketched the plans for your hotel on the back of a pub’s order sheet. I can’t believe I’m seeing it all in real life. Well, part of it.” Your hands curled into fists at your sides.

“We were mapping out every room,” he continued, smiling faintly. “You said you wanted a courtyard with a fountain. But not a flashy one, just something simple and charming.”

“Stop,” you said.

He paused. “Stop what?”

“Stop talking,” you replied bitterly. “Don’t stand there talking about floor plans like we built that place together. Like you had anything to do with it. Don’t act like you get to be part of that story.” Your voice was cold, and you didn’t regret a single word.

“But I was part of that story,” he said gently.

“You were supposed to be,” you smirked, turning to face him. “You said you’d stay. You said you’d be here and that you’d build a life here with me. We made plans. And then you left.”

His lips parted slightly, like he wanted to speak—but you weren’t done.

“And I know. I know I told you to leave, but that’s not the point. The point was that you never fought for me, Sunghoon. You never fought for us.”

Sunghoon uttered your name helplessly, reaching for you but you stepped back before he could.

You took a deep breath, looking up at the sky in hopes that your tears wouldn’t fall. “You didn’t even try to fix it,” you continued, voice breaking. “You didn’t write. You didn’t call. You just vanished. And I waited—God, I waited so long, thinking maybe you’d at least try. But you didn’t.”

“I tried,” he said softly, you almost didn’t catch it.

You scoffed, mocking.“Well, apparently you didn’t try hard enough!”

“I came back!” he snapped. The sudden rise in his voice startled both of you. “I broke off the engagement and came right back!”

That stopped you. His outburst and his confession—it stopped your from talking, your mind suddenly slow at comprehending his words.

You gawked as Sunghoon’s jaw clenched before he continued. “I came running back to you because I wanted to make things right. But when I got here, I was told you were off with someone else!”

You blinked at him, stunned. “What do you mean?”

He scoffed. “Oh, so that wasn’t true, then? You weren’t off having the time of your life with some guy?”

“It was true,” you said briskly. “It doesn’t matter. What do you mean you came back here?”

Sunghoon took a step back, hurt and regret were evident on his expression, and the moonlight glinted in his eyes, wet with tears he was holding back. He took a deep breath, ran his hands through his hair and looked out to the vast ocean.

He didn’t say anything for a few moments. Neither did you, still reeling in confusion and hurt at his revelation, your anger unraveling slowly and painfully.

You had built this story in your head, over and over—the story where he just didn’t love you enough to fight. But now, all of a sudden, it cracked down the middle. You had been wrong, and it hurt.

“I made a mistake,” he said after a while, looking down at his feet. “I was scared, and stupid, and I let my pride get in the way. But I never stopped thinking about you. Not once.”

You looked away. The tears were hot again, the ache crawling back up your throat.

“I never got to tell you,” he continued. “That I came back and that I love you. I thought I was too late. I just… I just went home.”

“I went home,” he repeated, laughing at himself. “My fiancee called me a fool and married me to prove it.”

You didn’t know what to say, so you just kept quiet. You just stood there, tired, trembling, toes dug into the cold sand, staring at the man you once thought you’d never see again

He took a step forward, close enough for you to feel the heat of his body. He raised a hand, hesitated, then tucked a strand of hair behind your ear.

“I never stopped loving you,” he whispered.

You closed your eyes, letting it sink in. Letting yourself feel it for a second. Then you stepped back.

“You’re too late, Sunghoon,” you said. But even you didn’t believe it.

xii: The Elephant in the Room

The sun was high and bright when the three men boarded Jay’s yacht, one after another, as if summoned by some invisible alarm. Jake had mentioned that it was about time he had to fly back home for work, and they all knew they couldn’t keep avoiding the topic forever. Not when the answer might change all of their lives.

They sat around the polished table on the deck, a bottle of wine already open but no one had poured a glass yet. Jake spoke first. “Are we really doing this?”

Jay leaned back in his seat, sunglasses perched on his head, his face unreadable for once. “It’s now or never, boys. It’s not like we can just stick around the island forever.”

“You’re right, we can’t,” Jake agreed, sighing. “I mean, this place is lovely, but like I said, I have to go back soon.”

Sunghoon didn’t say anything. He was standing by the railing, arms folded, eyes fixed on the stretch of sea. The silence hung for too long before Jay pushed his chair back with a loud scrape and stood.

“Let’s go see her.”

The three of them walked up to the house together—quiet and a little awkward, like kids on their way to the principal’s office. You greeted them at the door, bleary-eyed and exhausted from the night before, but you didn’t turn them away. Emma was at school, and you weren’t sure if it was a blessing or a punishment that this talk had to happen without her around.

You led them to the sitting room. Nobody sat, but you did. Jay cleared his throat. “We figured it was time to talk about everything.”

You gave a tired nod. “Okay. Talk.”

Jake stepped forward, looking as sheepish as ever. “First of all… sorry. We didn’t mean to corner you like this. We just thought it’d be easier if we were all here. Together.”

“Less yelling that way,” Jay muttered.

Sunghoon ignored them both. “She looks like you,” he said quietly, eyes on you. You weren’t sure if he meant it as comfort or accusation.

“Yes, exactly,” Jake agreed. “And that makes it hard to guess which one of us is her dad, so… I think it’s time we figure that out.”

Jay chimed in casually. “She laughs like my sister’s kid. They could pass as siblings, to be honest.”

Jake shook his head. “Have you seen her nose? That’s gotta be from me.”

Sunghoon raised a hand. “She has dimples.”

“Yeah,” Jake agreed, though his shrug said otherwise. “But her voice sounds exactly like my mom’s.”

Jay scoffed. “Your mom sounds like a six-year-old child?”

Jake gave him a flat look. “What about her eyes, then? Don’t they look like mine?”

“No, they don’t. But she has posh tastes,” Jay replied, smirking. “Pretty sure elegance and class are hereditary traits.”

“More like extravagance,” Sunghoon muttered under his breath.

“What was that?” Jay questioned, glancing at Sunghoon with a scowl.

“Guys, enough,” you chided, pinching the bridge of your nose. “Are you here to argue resemblances or what?”

Jay shrugged. “We should just check. Get DNA samples and find out once and for all. Although, I would be totally fine with assuming fatherhood if you guys wanna back out.”

“No one’s backing out,” Sunghoon snapped. “This is a serious discussion. You can’t make jokes like that.”

Jay turned to him, smirking in amusement. “Okay, Lover Boy. Relax.”

“Excuse me, gentlemen,” Jake chimed in, raising a hand. “I, myself, would love to find out if she’s my daughter, but… hear me out. I know it’s gonna sound crazy, but I don’t mind being half her father.”

There was a pause. You looked up at them. Jake shrugged, smiling as he added, “Or one-third, for that matter. I mean, we’ve all met her. She’s wonderful. I’d rather have a third than nothing at all.”

Sunghoon sighed, placing his hands on his waist. “Sorry to break it to you, Mr. Sim, but that’s not how the world works. You can’t just claim to be one-third of a dad.”

“Why not?” Jay said. “She’s already got all of us wrapped around her little finger. What difference does it make who passed on the stronger jawline? And finding out she’s not mine would honestly devastate me, so I’d rather not take my chances.”

Sunghoon was quiet for a long moment. Jake looked between the two of them, then back at you. “Two versus one? Guess majority wins?”

You scoffed and rose to your feet, exasperated. “Okay, you know what, guys? You need to shut up, all of you. And get out of my house.”

None of them moved, just stared at you in confusion. Jay was the first to speak and say, “Don’t you think it’s time we find out which one of us is her dad?”

“No,” you replied smugly, tilting your chin up so you could meet their gazes. “You don’t get to come here and demand to be a father to my child. You may have helped create her, but you don’t get to walk in now and play the father card. It doesn’t work like that.”

Sunghoon called out your name softly but you cut him off, pointing a finger at him. “No. I’ve done well by myself and I didn’t need any of you. I went through everything without you. I’m not gonna need you now that she’s older and my life is better.”

“But you didn’t have to do it all alone,” said Jake, making you glance at him at once. He looked over at Jay and Sunghoon, then back at you. “If you had told me… no, if you had told any of us, I think I speak for all of us when I say we would’ve been there for you. We wouldn’t have let you go through all of that alone.”

You stared at him—at all of them—and for a second, no one said anything. Not even you. Then you pointed toward the door.

“Get out,” you said. “All of you, get out.”

xiii: “What's Better Than One Dad?”

The house was unusually quiet for a weekend. No laughter echoing from the garden, no sound of someone tinkering in the backyard or somewhere around the house. It was just the soft ticking of the old wall clock and Emma’s tiny feet padding into the kitchen, where you were nursing a cold cup of tea you’d forgotten to drink.

She climbed onto the stool across from you, legs swinging, chin resting in her hands. “Where is everybody, Mommy?” she asked.

You smiled, reaching over to tuck her hair behind her ear. “They’re not here, honey. They must have chores and other things to do today.”

“But they weren’t here yesterday either,” Emma said, pouting as she lay her head on the table. “They said they were taking me out to sea today.”

“Who said that?” you asked softly, brushing her hair with your fingers.

She shrugged. “My dads.”

You blinked, hand pausing. “Your what?”

Emma lifted her head to look at you, eyes bright and serious. “My dads. Jay, Jake, and Sunghoon.”

Your stomach turned. You hadn’t heard those names spoken so casually in the last forty-eight hours—not since you threw them out of your house. You set your cup down.

“Emma, they’re not your dads,” you said carefully, patting her head. “They’re just friends.”

She tilted her head, confused. “But Auntie Amy and Auntie Lea said one of them is my dad.”

You froze. “They… said that?”

Emma nodded. “They were whispering but I still heard them. I have super ears, mommy. I hear everything.”

“Emma, what did Mommy say about eavesdropping on grown-up conversations?” you asked, trying to keep your tone steady.

She looked sheepish for a second, then brightened again. “But it’s true, right, Mommy?”

You sighed, moving around the counter to crouch in front of her stool. “Emma. Do you… want a dad?”

She shrugged again, legs still kicking back and forth under her seat. “I think so. Everybody has dads.”

You smiled softly, cupping her cheek. “Yes, sweetheart. But having no dad is not so bad. You have me, and Auntie Lea, and Auntie Amy and everyone else in the village who loves you.”

“I know,” she said quickly, then added, “but I still want one. Dads are fun.”

You sat back on your heels, forcing a smile for your daughter. “Are they now?”

She nodded enthusiastically, eyes sparkling. “They buy ice cream and ribbons. They show you all the cool stuff. And they can carry you…” She raised both arms way above her head. “This high!”

You couldn’t help the little laugh that slipped out. God, she was too much sometimes. “I can carry you that high.”

“No, mommy. You’re not tall,” she giggled as you scooped her into your arms.

You carried her out of the kitchen, but her voice dropped again, more thoughtful now. “Leo’s dad picks him up and spins him like this,” she said, arms stretched like an airplane. “It looks like flying. Uncle Jay did that too. I liked it. It was fun.”

You felt your chest tighten. She wasn’t asking for much—just a little bit of wonder. And here you were, too busy shielding her from the past to even consider the possibility of what a father could mean to her now.

And to be honest with yourself, you weren’t sure if you were doing it for her anymore. Or was it for yourself all along?

“Can I have one?” she asked, small voice in your ear. “Just one?”

You looked at her—your bright, curious, heartbreakingly hopeful daughter—and felt your heart break in two. “Do you have a favorite?” you asked, sitting on the couch with her.

Emma thought hard, pressing her finger to her chin. “Not really. Uncle Jake is nice and buys me stuff. Uncle Jay has a cool boat. And Uncle Hoon is strong.”

She sighed, frustration painting her expression and you couldn’t help but laugh. She turned to you with a pout, “I like all of them. You have to pick one for me, Mommy.”

You paused, scrambling for an answer that didn’t exist. Before you could say anything, Lea appeared with a box from her café. “How would you feel about three dads?” she asked, setting the box of cookies on the coffee table and sitting on Emma’s other side.

Emma gasped excitedly. “I can have three dads?” she asked Lea, practically vibrating on the couch.

Lea looked at you with a knowing smile. “Of course. What’s better than one dad?”

She turned back to Emma and winked. “Three dads.”

Emma gasped again, absolutely buzzing in her seat. “Three dads! I want three dads!”

You smiled nervously. “Emma, slow down. You can’t just decide that on your own.”

“Why not?” she asked, genuinely puzzled.

You glanced at Lea, then turned back to your daughter. “Because the dads—uh, the men—have to agree to it too. It’s a big responsibility. You can’t just call someone ‘Dad’ without asking first.”

Emma’s brows furrowed. “But they’ll say yes. They like me.”

Of course they do. It wouldn’t take much to convince those three men, but you had to help Emma manage her expectations. “They do like you,” you admitted, heart softening despite yourself. “But liking you and being ready to be your dad are different things. They don’t live here with us and even if they become your dad, you won’t exactly see them every day.”

Lea chimed in. “But they will come see you as much as they can.”

“That’s okay. I’ll ask them,” she said firmly, arms crossed with a serious pout. “I’ll ask all three.”

Lea let out a laugh. “Well, that should be fun to watch.”

You gave her a look, but there was no real hate in it.

The next morning, just as you were folding laundry in the living room, there was a knock on the door. You hesitated. Emma was still in her pajamas, sitting on the floor playing with seashells. Lea had left earlier to open the café. You weren’t expecting anyone.

You opened the door slowly. Jake was standing there with a bouquet of wildflowers. Jay held a box of pastries from the bakery, and Sunghoon just had that awkward, earnest look on his face that you knew far too well.

“Hi,” Jake said, flashing that disarming smile. “We, uh, Lea said you wanted to see us?”

Jay raised the box. “We brought breakfast. Peace offering. Don’t throw us out yet.”

You stepped aside wordlessly, letting them in. Emma looked up and immediately lit up like the sun. “My dads!”

You shot her a warning look, but the guys all froze. “Oh my, god,” you muttered, facepalming as you turned to hide your face.

“Did she just—?” Jay asked voice breaking so he had to clear his throat.

Jake's hand was on his mouth. “She said dads.”

“She did,” you muttered, rubbing your forehead and shaking your head, still unable to look at them.

Emma ran over and hugged Jake's leg. “You came back!”

Sunghoon crouched down in front of her, eyes soft. “Did you miss us, munchkin?”

She nodded hard. “Mommy said I can have three dads, if you say yes.”

Jay let out a quiet laugh and stepped forward. “Of course, we’ll say yes. You don’t even need to ask, princess.”

“Hold on,” you said quickly, gently tugging Emma away from them. You looked at the three of them—her dads. “First, let’s, uh… Let’s talk about this. Follow me.”

All three looked at you but followed you anyway when you went to the kitchen. Jake told Emma to stay and promised her it wouldn’t take long.

“Three dads?” Jay asked as soon as you were out of earshot. He chuckled, like he couldn’t believe it. “She’s okay with three dads?”

You groaned. “Oh, you have no idea.”

You placed your hands on your hips, stomping your feet as you stared at the three men before you. “Okay. I care about Emma more than anything in this world. More than my own life.”

“Of course—”

You raised a finger at Sunghoon. “Let me talk.”

Sunghoon nodded, stepping back. Jake mimed zipping his lips. You took a deep breath before continuing. “You can check if you want to. I won’t stop you. Or you can do what you said—you can step up. Be her dads. All three of you. I don’t mind, as long as she’s happy.”

“But she’s going to need consistency. She doesn’t need three men floating in and out of her life when it suits them. If you’re serious, you don’t just show up when it’s fun. You show up even when it’s hard. Even when you don’t feel like it.”

Jake nodded. “We know that.”

“I’m not asking you to stay here forever,” you added, more gently this time. “You have lives. Jobs. People waiting for you—Jake, you’re getting married soon.”

“I’m not expecting you to drop everything and move to this island. That would be unfair. And Emma doesn’t need you to be here every day. She just needs to know you’ll be there when it matters. That she can count on you, even from afar. If you can do that, then,” you paused, raised your hands in surrender, and sighed. “Then be her dad—Dads! Whatever you want to call it.”

Sunghoon looked down, nodding slowly. “Yeah. We can do that.”

Jay let out a breath. “Long-distance dad duty. Shouldn’t be so hard.”

Jake simply said, “We’ll make it work. Promise.”

You smiled, genuinely this time. “Okay,” you said softly, nodding toward the door. “Go on. She’s waiting.”

The three of them turned to leave, and Jay laughed out loud when he spotted Emma peeking from behind the curtains. “Oh no. We’ve got an eavesdropper!” he announced, grinning.

Emma shrieked, bolting from her hiding spot, her giggles echoing through the house as Johnny chased after her. You followed behind, just in time to see her leap into Jake's arms, then reach for Sunghoon hand, then tug at Jay's sleeve, all while talking a mile a minute.

You leaned against the doorframe, watching them with a strange fullness in your chest. You still didn’t know how any of this would work. But maybe it didn’t have to make sense. Maybe love was enough.

xiv: “Only I Can Fix Myself”

The sea stretched wide and sparkling under the Corsican sun, gentle waves lapping against the hull of Jay’s yacht as it cut smoothly through the water. Emma was practically vibrating with excitement, darting from one end of the deck to the other, yelling about dolphins that no one else could see. Jake and Sunghoon were lounging at the back, one lazily flipping through a comic book offered by one of Jay’s crews, the other peeling oranges and throwing slices at Emma, who cackled every time she caught one in her mouth. Jay was at the helm, sunglasses on, wind tugging his hair as he grinned.

You sat near the bow, sunbathing on a sunbed with Lea and a half-empty drink in hand, watching your daughter live a little dream. She had three men completely wrapped around her finger and absolutely no idea how rare that was.

“Amy would’ve loved this,” said Lea, sunglasses perched on her nose. “What do you think she’s doing right now?”

“Drinking Dom on some wealthy investor’s superyacht?” you guessed, grinning.

Lea giggled. “Dressed in something skimpy that’s definitely fit for the yacht but wildly inappropriate for the business transaction she went there for.”

You both giggled, your mind drifting back to sunkissed days on the beach in places you couldn’t even pronounce. Trusting Amy to talk your way into expensive bars where all three of you could charm handsome tourists to buy you drinks. Sneaking into exclusive yacht parties and pretending you belonged there. It all seemed so far away now.

“Wow, we’re old,” Lea sighed. “When was the last time we had fun like we did in college?”

You thought about it. “Probably that summer before we found out I was pregnant with Emma.”

“Right. The summer after college,” she said, then glanced over at the helm where Jay was. “We were in Jay’s boat at the time.”

You nodded, remembering the days. “Yeah, we were.”

Jay had her crew take the day off, so you and Lea had packed food for the trip. At lunch, Jay grilled fish on the little onboard stove. Jake handled the drinks, Sunghoon cut fresh fruit, and Emma supervised them all like a tiny captain. The laughter never died \own. Even you found yourself relaxed, for once—letting your walls down just enough to smile without second-guessing it.

You’d lost count on how many times you had to reapply Emma’s sunscreen because she just kept jumping into the water with Sunghoon. Jay had the yacht dock at a secluded shore, where Jake and Emma spent almost an hour looking for marine life in the shallows and taking pictures of them. The word ‘Dad’ had been echoing all day.

The sun began to dip by the time you made it back to the village. The sky had gone from blue to soft, velvety lilac, and the yacht anchored close to shore for the night. Emma had fallen asleep below deck, wrapped in one of Jay’s warm blankets and snoring into a pillow. Sunghoon, Jake and Lea were still above, playing cards and arguing about the rules of some ridiculous game you’d never heard of.

Jay brought you another drink and asked if you wanted to sit with him up front, where the sea was quiet and the stars had just begun to wink into view. You followed him.

The two of you sat side by side on the padded bench near the front of the yacht, legs stretched out, drinks in hand. The breeze had softened, brushing against your skin like a whisper. Waves lapped gently against the hull. From the back of the boat, you could still hear muffled voices—Lea laughing, Sunghoon protesting something, Jake talking over it—but out here, it felt like you were in a different world.

Jay took a slow sip of his drink, then leaned back, eyes scanning the dark horizon. “Today was nice,” he said quietly.

You nodded. “Yeah. Emma’s probably dreaming of dolphins right now.”

Jay smiled at that. “She’s a great kid.”

You smiled. “She is.” You were both quiet for a moment, just gazing out into the sea and taking in the cool air. Jay broke the silence first. “About the other night. Amy’s party.”

You turned your head slightly but didn’t say anything. You would rather not talk about it, really, but it wouldn’t be so bad to bring it up now. He shifted, resting his elbows on his knees. “I wasn’t drunk. I know I acted like it, but I wasn’t. I knew what I was doing.”

You hummed, acknowledging him without saying anything. Jay continued, “And I knew what I was saying. I meant it.”

“Meant what, Jay?”

He chuckled under his breath. Not the smug kind, the self-deprecating kind. “I meant it when I said I don’t mind settling down with you.”

Your brows furrowed. Jay glanced at you, more honest than he’d ever been. “I don’t know who I am anymore. I’ve spent years chasing things. Business, money, women, parties, noise. But it’s like I keep coming up empty. Then you wrote to me and it was like a hand was reaching out to me. I thought maybe if I came back, everything would fall into place. I thought maybe you could fix me.”

You stared at the ocean. “You wanted me to fix you?”

“I didn’t think of it that way at first,” he admitted. “But yeah. I didn’t realize that’s what I was doing at first. I told myself it was fate or just some unfinished business. But the truth was I just wanted someone to look at me and see something worth saving. And I thought it could be you.”

Another wave rolled beneath the yacht. You felt the dip and sway of it in your chest. “I want to be someone better,” he said. “You make people better, you know? You make them want to do things right. I’m willing to change. I’d give up the boat, the business, the whole damn playboy act. I’d stay. If it meant a shot at a different life. A better one. With you.”

You turned to face him. “Jay…”

He gave a small smile. “I know. It sounds desperate. And stupid. It probably is.”

You hesitated before speaking. “It’s not that I don’t believe you, Jay. But… I don’t think I can do that for you.” You meant it. He came here chasing something, and you weren’t what he needed. Not in the way he thought.

“I’m not what you’re looking for, Jay,” you said gently. “You don’t need a relationship to fix you. You need to find meaning on your own.”

He nodded slowly, swallowing hard. “I know. I mean, I didn’t, but I know now.” He chuckled. “It was a mistake coming here thinking you could fix me. Only I can fix myself.”

“But,” he added, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips, “I don’t regret coming. I met the most wonderful girl in the world and became her dad. That’s the best thing I’ve ever done.”

Your breath caught. “Jay…”

He shook his head. “It’s okay. I’m not asking for anything else. You were right to say no. But I still get to be there for her. And that means everything to me.”

You smiled, a little teary now. “She’s lucky to have you.”

“I’m the lucky one,” he murmured.

Your chest tightened. He wasn’t talking about you anymore. And yet somehow… it felt like the most honest thing he’d ever said. “I’m sorry, Jay.”

“I know,” he replied, his signature smirk appearing on his lips now. He relaxed in his seat, taking a deep breath. “Though I bet you would have wanted to be the one who gets to tie me down, don’t you?”

That made you laugh, genuinely, head lolling back and cackling type of laugh. “I don’t think I would’ve been able to even if I tried.”

Jay shrugged, “Yeah, but you wish you could, don’t you?” he asked, winking.

You rolled your eyes, though you couldn’t hide how it made you smile. “Fine. I would have considered it an honor to have tied down the menace of a playboy that you are, Park Jongseong.”

Jay leaned back in his seat, that familiar smirk tugging at his mouth, but his eyes were calm now. You mirrored him, your laugh fading into a sigh as you leaned your arms on the railing again, the sea stretching endlessly beneath the moonlight.

It was peaceful. Comfortable, even. Until Jay’s gaze flicked upwards. You didn’t notice at first. But then his smirk widened, and he clicked his tongue. “Lover Boy’s lurking,” he muttered.

You blinked, turned slightly—and there he was. Sunghoon. Leaning against the side rail up the deck, pretending to look out at the horizon but very clearly trying not to stare your way. One hand holding a glass he hadn’t touched in a while. The wind catching his hair and blowing it out of his face to reveal a slight crease on his forehead.

You looked away too quickly. Jay laughed under his breath. “God, you’re so bad at this.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you said briskly.

Jay raised a brow. “You don’t even realize you’re lying to yourself. That’s the problem.”

You exhaled. “Jay—”

“Okay,” he said, groaning as he stood up. “But if you don’t do the follow your heart thing and say yes to him, you’re an idiot.”

You scoffed indignantly. “Since when were you an expert at following your heart?”

“Since I flew out here after getting a letter out of nowhere,” he replied, grinning smugly. “I followed my heart and it brought me to my little girl. Who, speaking of, probably needs cuddles.”

Jay turned to leave and you called out to him. “What she needs is to be taken back home! In her own bed!”

Jay raised a hand without glancing back. “On it!”

You stood there a moment longer, palms resting on the cool railing, heart beginning to beat somewhere in your throat. And then you tilted your head up. Sunghoon hadn’t moved. He looked right at you, and his gaze made you swallow something in your throat. You gave the smallest nod, and in the next second, he was gone—probably making his way down as fast as he could.

xv: Lover Boy

You hadn’t taken more than a few steps before Sunghoon appeared at the end of the corridor, breath shallow like he’d run down the stairs. His eyes locked with yours, and the hallway spun just a little from the adrenaline thrumming through your chest.

“Hi,” he said, voice low. “I just—I.. You called me over. I didn’t read that wrong, did I?”

You took another step forward, smiling. “No.”

Sunghoon smiled, relief washing over his face as he stepped closer. “Hi,” he began, taking a deep breath. “How are you?”

You raised an eyebrow. “How am I? Seriously?”

“No, I meant…” he paused, chuckling. “The other night, at Amy’s party. We didn’t get to finish talking.”

“Yeah, we didn’t,” you agreed, looking away.

“I meant what I said,” he declared, seemingly holding his breath. “Every word.”

You studied his face. It was written all over him—the years of regret, the ache of what was lost, the unbearable need to be here with you now. Then he reached for you. His fingers brushed your cheek, ever so gently, like you would disintegrate right then and there if he held you too hard.

“I love you,” he said softly.

That was all it took for your restraints to collapse. You grabbed him by the collar and kissed him—hard, desperately, like it was the only thing that could fill the void in your heart. Sunghoon kissed you back instantly, a low groan slipping from him as he cradled the back of your head, angling you just right like he’d done a hundred times in his dreams.

Your fingers curled in his shirt, tugging him closer until his hips pressed against yours and you could feel every inch of him. Sunghoon pulled back only long enough to breathe, his eyes locked with yours.

“Come with me,” he whispered against your lips. He led you down the corridor with a hand at your back and urgency in his steps. He opened the nearest cabin door and pulled you inside, closing it behind you with a soft click.

The room was dim, swaying gently with the motion of the yacht. But you barely noticed any of that. The second you locked eyes, you shoved him back against the cabin door and kissed him hard, fingers working fast on the buttons of his shirt. You pressed your palm against his bare chest and exhaled sharply. “I swear to God, if this is a dream—”

“It’s not,” he groaned, pulling your dress over your head in one motion. “It’s not, it’s not.”

You kissed him again, slower this time but deeper, your hands tangling in his hair. He held you firmly by the waist, then lifted you effortlessly, your legs wrapping around his hips as he walked you to the bed.

You landed with a soft thud on the mattress, your bodies still tangled, his lips dragging down your jaw, to your neck. You gasped when he nipped at your skin, clawing at his back.

It was euphoric, the urgency and reverence—a passionate middle ground where every movement was fueled by something you’d long yearned for. His hands roamed your body like he couldn’t touch enough, couldn’t believe you were real and here and his again. All while you arched under him, pulling him closer, hands mapping the curves of his back, the dip of his waist, every familiar part of him you had tried to forget.

His mouth moved over your chest, your collarbones, your stomach. His hand found the space between your legs, cupping and pressing firmly before slipping into the thin fabric of your underwear. You held your breath—waiting for that familiar touch, anticipating.

But Sunghoon paused, looking into your eyes. “Tell me if you want me to stop,” he murmured, though you could see the desperation in his expression—as if begging you not to.

“Don’t you dare.”

He smirked and dipped his head almost immediately, tugging your panties off before his lips met your cunt. You arched off the bed, biting your lip hard, your hand gripping the sheets while the other tangled in his hair.

He was slow at first, testing at first, teasing out every sound you could make. Then he went harder, sucked deeper, and both of your hands clutched his hair, hips bucking into his mouth as you chased more of that delightful sensation. He growled something against your skin and climbed back up to kiss you, mouths hot and hungry and impatient.

“I’m sorry,” he blurted, grinning. “But I need you. Right now,” he said, kissing you before you could say anything.

You barely noticed anything, too lost in the heat of the moment and the feeling of his lips in yours. You felt him nudge at your entrance only for a second before he slid in with one smooth, desperate motion. You gasped into his mouth, legs locking around him, and he cursed softly against your shoulder. It felt too much and not enough—all at once.

“You feel—fuck,” he groaned into your ear, holding you tighter. “God, I missed you.”

“Hoon,” you whispered, your voice trembling with need. “Hoon, I missed you too.”

He moved deep and slow at first, soaking in every sound you made, every desperate plea whispered into his ear. But it didn’t take long for the rhythm to quicken, hips snapping into yours with a force that made the headboard thud lightly against the wall.

You closed your eyes and bit down on your lip to keep from crying out too loud—Jay’s yacht might be big, but not that big—and Sunghoon smiled at your expression.

He cupped your cheek and kissed your forehead, his breath hot and ragged against your skin. “Open your eyes, baby,” he whispered, kissing your temple again. “Look at me.”

You met his gaze, and for a moment, the years melted away. It was just him. Just you. And this. Sunghoon kissed you again and his lips tasted like longing, like something once lost and finally found again. He moved inside you slowly, deeply, dragging every second out like he wanted it carved into memory.

Your hips rose to meet his, greedy for more, and he groaned as he sank deeper. “Fuck,” he whispered, kissing your jaw, your neck, your collarbone. “You feel the same. No—better.”

He moved faster now, each thrust rocking through you in waves. The headboard tapped lightly against the wall, your hand flailing briefly before gripping the pillow to muffle your sounds. “You have no idea how much I’ve missed you,” he murmured, hand sliding up your thigh to pull your leg higher around his waist.

His mouth found your breast, tongue swirling over your nipple until you arched into him, crying out softly. He kissed down your sternum and back up to your mouth, whispering, “I never stopped missing you.”

You kissed him again, open-mouthed, desperate. His hand gripped your hip, guiding your rhythm until you matched him thrust for thrust. Every inch of your skin was on fire, every nerve in your body dancing with every drag and press and pull of his body.

When he angled his hips just right, you gasped, back arching, hands flying to his shoulders. “Right there,” you whimpered.

Sunghoon growled, deep in his chest. “Yeah? You gonna come for me, baby?”

You nodded, unable to speak, your body trembling beneath him. He watched you fall apart, eyes dark and locked on your face, his own breathing sharp and erratic. The climax rushed through you, long and loud and blinding. You buried your face in his neck, biting down on his shoulder to muffle your moan as he pushed deeper, losing himself to the heat and tightness of you.

With a few more hard, ragged thrusts, he followed, spilling into you with a grunt and a trembling curse of your name. His body froze, collapsing into you as you both chased your breath.

Silence. Just the sound of your breaths. Tangled limbs. Sweat and warmth and that aching fullness in your chest. Neither of you moved right away. And he held you, lips pressed to your shoulder, his thumb brushing along your jaw.

Softly, you said, “Say it again.”

Sunghoon hummed, lifting his head to look at you. “Say what again?”

You shifted under him, and he moved to lay beside you on the bed, propping his head on his hand. He watched you fondly, smiling. “What you told me earlier,” you replied, turning on your side too.

Sunghoon let out a relieved breath, reaching to cup your cheek. “I love you. I never stopped loving you. I love you then, and I love you now.”

“Wow.” You chuckled, heat rising to your cheeks, making you look away sheepishly. “That’s four times.”

“I love you,” he repeated, your name rolling beautifully on his tongue.

“Five,” you muttered, exhaling. “Okay. Enough. I get it.”

“It’s true,” he said, like he needed to convince you.

You took a deep breath and met his gaze again. This time, you were wearing a stern expression. “And if it is? Who’s to say you wouldn’t leave me again? You said you’re married, didn’t you?”

“No,” Sunghoon said quickly. “I mean—yes, I was. But—”

You gasped and sat up in complete shock. “I just slept with a married man,” you blurted, the fact suddenly dawning on you.

“No. That’s not—” Sunghoon chuckled, sitting up too and pulling you into a hug, then planting a soft kiss on your lips. “That’s not what happened.”

You shook your head and were about to say anything but he shushed you. “I was married, but only for a year. We’ve been divorced for five.”

“Oh,” you muttered, nodding and feeling a wash of relief. “Okay. Good. That’s… That’s very good.”

His hold tightened around you, and you hugged him back, melting into his warmth. You stayed like that for a while, just basking in the aftermath.

“So?” he prompted after a few moments of silence. “What now?”

“Now?” you paused, too shy to say it out loud. “Now you stay.”

Sunghoon lifted your chin so you’d meet his gaze. “I will.”

He smiled, genuinely this time, with more relief and confidence. “I will, love. See, you’re gonna need someone to boss you around this island.”

You scoffed, though your heart was full. “If my memory served me well, I think I made it clear to you that I don’t need a man bossing me around my own property.”

“Yeah, you made it very clear indeed, but,” he replied, pausing to tuck your hair behind your ear. “Wouldn’t you want to be dependent on someone from time to time? From what I can see, our dream hotel still needs a lot of work.”

Our dream hotel. The words echoed beautifully in your ears.

You narrowed your eyes playfully at him. “And you’re gonna lend me your expertise for free? No architect fee?”

“All I ask for is a room, my love,” he grinned, kissing the side of your head. “Preferably yours. I like sharing with you.”

You nudged his shoulder with a smile, cheeks flushed. “You’re asking for a lot, Mr. Park.”

“Oh, I’ll give a lot,” he murmured. “I’ll give you everything.”

You rolled your eyes playfully, and then quietly, you said, “Okay. I guess we can share a room.”

Sunghoon smiled, watching you with a slight crease on his forehead, like he wasn’t sure he’d heard it right. But you didn’t repeat yourself. You just laid your head on his chest and closed your eyes.

You didn’t make it back to the main deck. Instead, you stayed in that guest cabin, where the night continued with soft sighs, ragged breaths, and tangled limbs. You didn’t stop at once. Or twice. You lost track somewhere in between kisses and confessions, in the way he said your name like a prayer, in the way you held on to him like he was home.

And by the time sleep caught up to you, your body sore and your heart full, you were curled against his chest with the sound of the sea lulling you into the deepest peace you’d known in years.

xvi: All's Well That Ends Well

The door creaked open, sunlight streaming in just enough to make you wince. You stepped out first, hair still damp from a rushed shower. Sunghoon followed, looking fresh but not fooling anyone—his hand brushing the small of your back as the two of you made your way up to the deck.

The first thing you heard was a gasp. A loud, ridiculous, over-the-top gasp from Lea, who sat dramatically sprawled on a lounge chair. Jay nearly choked on his juice. Even Jake was trying not to laugh, hiding behind a magazine she wasn’t reading. Emma, bless her, was too busy coloring beside Jake to notice.

“Really, guys?” Jay deadpanned. “In my boat? Right after breaking my heart too?”

You raised an eyebrow, brushing past him with a smirk. “Your suite is amazing, Jay.”

Jay gasped again, clutching his chest. “In my suite?!”

“Yes, where else?” you lied shamelessly, taking a seat and reaching for the coffee pot. “And your dimmers are cool.”

Sunghoon, behind you, was trying so hard not to laugh. Jay looked personally victimized. “You absolute heathens,” he declared, hand flying to his mouth for added effect. “I’m gonna throw up.”

You scoffed. “Oh, don’t be dramatic.”

Everyone burst into laughter. Even Sunghoon.

And as you sipped your coffee, Sunghoon sitting close, your daughter now leaning against your arm with her sketchpad, and the rest of your chaotic, unexpected little family chatting around you, you could feel warmth blooming in your chest.

The summer was over, and something better had begun.

[fin]

#enhypen x reader #sunghoon smut #jay x reader #jongseong x reader #park jongseong x reader #jay smut #enhypen sunghoon #sunghoon x reader #sunghoon x you #jake x reader #enhypen fic #enhypen fluff #enhypen x you #enhypen au #jake sim x reader #enha x reader #enhypen smut #sunghoon fanfic #jake sim fanfic

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itzpookiepooh · 17 hours ago

Text

Take Me Home

You tell them you wanna go home

You guys were in the parking lot when you decided to pull this stunt—and my goodness those big bunny eyes he gave you. You would never miss a chance to mess with Xavier but this joke was too good to pass up. You had to do this or else you’d never know what his reaction would be. Come on, did you really need a reason to prank him?

“I wanna go home.” You say sadly making him look over at you. His face was filled with sorrow. He didn’t want you to go home besides he just got you out of the house.

“Why?” He asks his soft voice with worry. You hold your breath trying not to laugh.

“I just wanna be alone that’s all.” You shrug pretending to be sad. He slides into the car giving you eye contact.

“Is it something I did?” He asks getting closer to you. You stare at him and he looked really good today. His messy hair from the wind really set the tone.

“No, of course not.” You coo holding his face squishing it. “Promise?” He muffles between his squished cheeks.

“I promise baby.” You kiss all over his face, “Can you stay?” He asks you looking into your eyes.

You smile sweetly at him, “Of course.” You couldn’t prank him with him being this cute.

Rafayel had been painting for hours when you decided to pull this on him. You got bored and needed something to do. Your game was less entertaining now than ever. You got up, sighed, and stretched before announcing your departure. He was confused because he drove you here. It’s nearly midnight.

“I think I’m going to go home.” You tell him as you crack your back. He freezes before his eyes shift to yours.

“Why?” He pouts with furrowed brows. You shrug before grabbing your bag.

“Just feel like being alone.” You tell him making him fully turn towards you. Alone? Not on his watch.

“You sick? I got medicine here.” He tells you before going to get it. “M’not sick.” You answer.

“Oh you’re tired. I have a bed. You know where it is go lie down.” He points towards the hallway.

“M’not tired.” You chuckle shaking your head. He tapped his chin before snapping.

“You’re hungry! Why didn’t you say something cutie?” He rushed to the kitchen making you laugh.

“I’m just joking Raf!” You yell after him as you hear pots, pans, and other utensils clash.

You and Caleb were flying around courtesy of your personal pilot. You decided now was better than never. You set the mood getting quieter and distant as he kept glancing over to you.

“What’s wrong?” He asked before focusing on the sky again. “I wanna go home.” You blurt out making him almost jerk the plane.

He puts it into cruise mode and looks at you with puppy eyes. You knew he was about to start he always does. Those eyes told it all.

“Is it me? Something I did?” He questioned making you shake your head. “I just wanna go home.” You shrug as he continues to stare at you.

“Something’s wrong though. I can see it.” He touches your cheek making you look back at him. You involuntarily choke a laugh.

“You think you’re so funny.” He shakes his head before going back to the controls.

“Love youuuu.” You sing as you laugh.

Sylus came and got you after telling you in the most intricate way that he wants to spend time with you. You were with him for only 2 hours before you decided to prank him.

“Sylus, I want to go home.” You huff as you hang off of his couch. His eyes shift to you.

“Are you bored?” He asked as he puts his reading glasses down and looks at you. You shrug and look to the side.

“I just wanna be alone.” You said softly as you play with the fabric of the couch.

“You sound sad…is everything alright?” He turns to give you his undivided attention. You nearly cracked at those boba eyes.

“You make playing pranks so hard.” You huff and cross your arms. He smirks before chuckling. He knows what he’s doing.

Zayne liked being around you. You promised to spend today with him since you’re both off work. He took you to this restaurant he walked by last week and as you were waiting to get your lunch you decided it was now or never.

“I think I’m ready to go home.” You said as you traced your finger on the table. Zayne looked up with big eyes before looking around.

“Right now? What happened?” He was worried about how fast your mood changed. You were just smiling.

“Yeah…I just want to be alone right now.” You sigh before leaning back in the chair.

“Is it something I did? If it was I deeply apologize.” He spoke softly sending an arrow to your heart. You nearly fell apart.

“I was just joking but now I feel bad.” You mumbled as he looked at you. You ended up buying whatever dessert he wanted because it was only fair for the grief you caused him.

I gotta get through these drafts immediately!

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zulashi-the-writer · 3 days ago

Text

A Fever Dream

Romance x Girlfriend

Credit goes to therosettasun on TikTok

Summary: to love but never to forget, how could someone claim to love you but disappear when you needed them most

1st/2nd person pov

His eyes stared out into the crowd emotionless at the screaming fans, the bittersweet smile plastered on his lips as he blew out hearts then his eyes caught it the glimpse of something familiar, his heart fluttered seeing the sway of your hair, it couldn't be you, could it? He didn't get time to check as the red mist wrapped around his body taking him back to the demon world.

He couldn't get you out his head the thought of his past life resurfacing, all the memories flashing in front of his eyes, oh how he'd do anything to be back in your arms, to feel your warmth and hear your angelic voice say his name, but the remembrance of old memories comes fondness but also regret.

He'd look for you everywhere, hoping you'd be there looking straight back at him but you never were, all the girls screaming for his attention none of them could compare to you, he yearned to feel like that one more time to feel loved by you.

He decided to sneak away after the idol award trails following the exact route he used to take, his heart ached as he saw your favourite restaurant with a for sale sign blocking the door and the small playground you used to take him to sit on the swings with hazard warnings all over and the gate chained shut.

He wandered through every ally way, remembering everything that happened and watching the memories like an hallucination, from the kitten you found and nurtured cradling it in your arms keeping it from the rain to where you stood shouting at him when you were fighting, he was so lost in thought but his feet moved so perfectly knowing exactly where they need to go.

He looked at all the old things you pointed out when he'd walk you home, the neighbourhood kids that always played games on the sidewalk you boasted how the kids you would have together would win every single one, but the kids were no longer there they'd all probably in their teenage years now, a lump started forming in his throat as he started nearing your house.

He didn't even know you still lived there maybe it was his imagination playing tricks on him, maybe it was Gwi-ma being cruel, he tried swallowing the lump in his throat he peered around the corner his eyes softening as he saw your house, his heart fluttering as he saw all the modifications you spoke about, the beautiful colour garden that was maintained modestly, his steps faltered as he came to the path leading up to the door.

His eyes wondered over the porch, his eyes caught sight of the small engraving he made on the banister it was your initials in a heart his eyes squinted seeing another initial added he rolled his shoulders the feeling of uncertainty feeling him up once more, his eyes moved as he slowly stepped closer he saw the shoes he brought you for your birthday settled by the door frame he remember how you always wanted them but didn't have the money, his brows knitted together seeing pink kids show next to them, did you have a kid?.

A feeling of jealousy filled him, you found someone else? his eyes fluttered in sadness, he lifted his hand to knock on the door but his body froze what is he supposed to say 'oh I made a selfish deal with a demon king that's why I left you' he bowed his head in distress his eyes bolting up as he heard the click of the door his breath hitching as it opened, he didn't dare to blink scared that he was going to blink and you'd be gone.

"Yn" he watched your face panic, your chest raising up and down due to your shallow breathes "it's me" his voice was low just above a whisper he watched your eyes squint your eyes filling with curiosity then sadness "it can't be" your voice cracked your head turned as small footsteps charged towards you "mama" you bent down picking up your little girl keeping her close in your arms, Romance stood shocked seeing this little child with pink hair similar to his "is she..." the words caught in his throat.

Even you didn't know what to say he disappeared never said goodbye now he's here "uh-yeah" I murmured before whispering her to go play in the back she nodded quickly and ran off as I put her down "where did you go" I tried sounding emotionless but my sadness showed I hugged myself giving me a little comfort "I made a deal with a bad person" his voice dwindled "I'm so sorr-"

"No" I muttered interrupting him "you don't get to apologise, you left me when I needed you" I paused catching my breathe the anger boiling up in my chest "we needed you" I dropped my head to the ground tears streaming down my cheeks, my eyes stared at the ground fill of anger and confusion "why" I asked but he didn't answer I looked up glaring at him "why" I yelled pushing him making him stumble back.

He stared at me not saying anything his mouth opened and closed silently, he stood up straight composing himself "if I could go back in time I would my love, I never wanted to hurt you" his voice was soft holding so much emotion "but you did you weren't there you hurt me, hurt us" I shook my head weakly my body collapsing to the ground his body colliding with mine as he caught me holding me against him "I wish I was I swear, I've missed you every day" his tears slipped down his cheeks falling onto your hair.

My fists balled up his shirt as I pressed my face into his neck, my tears wetting his shirt "you left us" my words were hushed as he stroked my hair like he used to when I was stressed "I know" he said his voice breaking his lips shakily pressing a soft kiss against my head before taking in a shaky breath.

"I promise to never leave you again"

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airedelalmena · 2 hours ago

Note

Stuff like this is so frustrating. Because people can take the same action for multiple reasons.

Whenever I've done something like this, i.e. with a younger sibling or friend, it's to encourage them to use THEIR smarts. Because I know they're smarter than that, but aren't using it.

The idea that ego could be involved is foreign to me, and I'm truly pushing those I love to self-improve for their own sake. And in a situation like this, though I wouldn't have harped on the same word, might have been nearly as blunt for the sake of their health and safety. I've seen friends with lifelong eating disorders, tried gently to say a kind word here or there, and been looked at as if I ran over someone's dog by the enablers who'd rather sit in silence.

The willful misinterpretation of intents like these feels really unkind because they ascribe automatic bad faith.

I try my best to be kind, but IMO sometimes kind messages for someone's betterment can't and shouldn't be sugarcoated, but made clear. For me, to show respect for someone's good traits (i.e. intelligence) is to expect it of them at all times, and point out when they're not living up to the person I know they are, etc. As a friend. Coddling existing problems feels like feeding the problem, keeping it alive. It's what I would want from my friends and family - extreme directness to help me to grow, not fearful silence that actually keeps me from hearing needed comments that might support my growth.

I guess I just don't understand people who feel uncomfortable with directness or disapprove of it as a problem-solver.

Example: If someone's half-unconscious, injured on the side of the road, and I know first aid, and also know an ambulance is coming but it's 30+ minutes away, the answer is...

to call them and politely ask permission to go ahead first, uwu! Um, no.

to go straight into the first aid without any ado.

Like IDC "how that ~*~sounds/looks~*~" YK?

This is why I do this: We only live one life, and time is short. You could die tomorrow. I wish people had saved me wasted years of not being on the right paths by putting it bluntly into my system.

I experienced this firsthand about ten years ago and it forced me to choose to stop the social behavior of "being polite" and beating around the bush, and to realize the beautiful value of bluntness in saving a person's life instead. Because I almost lost mine to the toxicness of a "being polite" environment that HATED the truth, hated real words spoken to solve real problems. Would rather watch their friends and relatives suffer eating disorders, domestic abuse, severe health problems, near-homelessness in 100% silence as long as the "politeness" of the environment was maintained. No one cared enough about those hurting to speak of the elephants in the room.

Because I lack an interfering ego, I wouldn't be offended by someone doing what OP did in the above. I would consider where they were coming from and let my bubble be burst if it needed to be. I've seen these egos kill people, more committed to the pain than the healing. Because unfortunately trauma bonding happens, and "the comfort zone" of it feels artificially "good".

How many people say "I'll make (XYZ happier choice) for my New Year's resolution" and then never do it? A false friend pats them on the back and says "that's wonderful!" A REAL friend pushes them to make concrete plans, break them down into itemized lists of the steps needed to make it happen. Because I've seen entire lives go to waste saying "maybe one day..." or entire relationships break thanks to easily-solved but unsolved problems. So, as a friend, when I see something, I DO something or I SAY something, as most people were "too polite" to do for me (so-called politeness was actually unintended sabotage).

Being ultra-practical and no-nonsense tends to piss people off mightily, though. Trying to help gets misinterpreted as the wrong, "taboo" thing and shunned. The offended pushback from them starts fights, which I then have to fend off; after which, either my original help, or the fending-off of their fight is then re-interpreted as "my starting a fight". Scapegoating. Etc. I'm so tired and burnt out from years of having to go through this with people over and over again. People I care for and am trying to burst the comfort zone of, to help to heal.

Ultimately the OP's choice was the wrong one in this situation, here. But it seems like their intent was to bust up some of the myth's in their friend's eating-disordered thinking, to get them to wake up a little from the disease that is harming them. Was it perfectly done? No. But did the mother have proof that it was coming from an egotistical place? No, she jumped straight to the accusation. All I see is someone choosing a specific word as an opportunity to cut through some learned BS and point out why it might be BS. A young person doing it in a clumsy way. But so different from a surface-level attack on vocabulary and intelligence that it's being criticized as.........like, come on.......

Hi there, I love your writing and saw one of your recent answered asks. If you feel like it, could you tell or point us to a story about how you were taught kindness? I worry I have not learned enough kindness.

I actually got out of bed to write this. I saw the ask, and I knew the story, and I knew what I wanted it to be. It's a little fire and brimstone, compared to my other stories, but I think that's an important part.

My mom was a young woman's leader for our ward and she cared a lot about her charges. One of the girls in her group had parents that were in the middle of a messy divorce, and with the mom reentering the workforce after 15 years, schedules were hectic. So my mom picked up their daughter from school for a while. The daughter only lived a block away from us, so it was a small thing to do for a family going through a very painful change.

Said daughter was fat. She'd been fat since we were all kids and she was deeply ashamed of it. Always trying to fix it. Always reading about and talking about diets. And one day, I was sitting in the back seat, and she was talking with my mom about some documentary she'd seen about the corn industry, and how corn syrup was in everything, and I remember her saying "It's literally poison."

And I just didn't leave it be.

I said something about if she was sure it was literal, and she said yeah, totally, and I asked her if she knew what literal went, and my mom shot daggers at me through the rear view mirror before changing the topic. They chatted, and my mom told her some stuff about worrying less about food, and I don't remember the details but I know my mom was trying to steer her away from disordered eating. Then we arrived at her house, and she got out, and after that it was just me and my mom in the car.

And it was awkward. We drove for maybe a half block before my mom said, Babs, what the hell was that, and I said something about how that's not what literally means, and she took me to task for it.

Who cares what literally means, she said. Her parents are getting divorced. She feels terrible about her body. She feels terrible about everything. And instead of listening to her, you felt the need to point out that you're smarter than her. That you know a word she doesn't. You feel big, putting her down like that?

I didn't have an answer. We sat there a few moments, silent, before she spoke again. I will never forget how tired she sounded.

I know she isn't as smart as you, she said. But she's doing the best she can. And you could be doing so much more than this.

There was nothing I could say to that. I saw her face in the rearview a few times on the short ride home, and she wasn't sobbing but there were tears going down her face. I think she sat in the car twenty minutes after pulling in, just trying to get her composure back. I checked on her from the living room window like ten times. I can't remember the last time I felt like that huge of a piece of shit.

My mom is a gentle woman. She cried over worms with me. She hardly ever yelled, and she apologized after she did. That conversation caved my skull in like a cinder block dropped from a skyscraper. And I deserved it.

I know it's probably not the tumblr way to encourage shame. But I have found it useful anyway. I think it is useful for me, to have a specific moment of knowing what failure looks like and feels like. Missing the person to pick out the part that would make me look good, missing the big view of their life, missing the idea that what they need is not necessarily to be right. Too may misses.

There are a lot of stupid things that have crawled to the tip of my tongue, only to get stopped by the memory of my mom saying you could be doing so much more than this.

I will not make her say that a second time.

#queued #social #relationships #comfort zone #bs #bullshit #turns out when you get actually conscious and reject anything that is false and creates pain or unhelpfulness people don't react well

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jigglyjeon · 3 days ago

Text

all the things she said -> jjk (four)

summary: your second attempt at a social gathering is at an office party for the place your roommate works at; you come to a realisation about who your true friends are and things are starting to feel okay again— until you learn something you were never meant to find out about.

rating: R18+ MATURE, minors please do not interact

genre: roommate au, angst, fluff, smut

word count: 8.8k +

warnings/tags: some floof in the beginning <3 some angst at the end </3, this chapter was so intense to write, but it’s the climax and what you’ve all been waiting for lowk, the culprit pic leaker is revealed!, fighting, crying, blowjob, titty sucking, dry humping, soft!dom jk, missionary

notes: hi my loves! this series will end in the next chapter (: i’ve had a lot of fun writing it and appreciate the support and love i got from it, but i didn’t intend for this to be a long series. truthfully, i just started writing this as a small project to get my creative juices flowing again. thanks so much for reading all the things she said so far, gorgeous people! the final part will be out within the next week or so!!!

soundtrack: i want to be with you - chloe moriondo // all the things she said – poppy

⋆ ࣪. masterlist ˖ ࣪⭑

<- prev | finale ->

You had never been one for hiking.

Not until today, anyway. You lost your breath easily, especially with the number of steps you’ve had to walk up along this trail. Even with the beautiful scenery that was supposedly meant to make up for it, you can’t help but wish you were laying in your bed instead— you usually would be on a Saturday morning at 7:45.

But today you were spending time with your friends, or rather, Jungkook’s friends; you still haven’t spoken to Jia or Hanna since that disaster of a dinner Jungkook made you go to, you were sure to remind him how ungrateful you were about that. That was why you were here, it was, apparently, his way of making it up to you. You’re huffing and puffing, losing sight of Jungkook and Jimin who are way ahead of you. You don’t even have the power to call out to them loud enough for them to hear you. You stop, prop your ass against a rock and rest your hands on your knees.

You’re so positive that Jia and Hanna are probably doing something so much more fun today than dying.

You pull out your phone from the pocket of your tights, still catching your breath. You scroll through your messages, your socials— still nothing. You let out a pitiful breath, shoulders falling.

“Can you pick up the a pace a little bit, chicken legs?” Jimin calls out to you, when you look over at him with a sharp glare, Jungkook slaps the back of his hand against his chest. He lets out an ‘oof’, coughing dramatically and clutching at his chest. Jungkook points at you, then gives you a thumbs up, asking if you’re okay.

You flash him a tight smile, stretching your arms before you make your way toward them. You ignore the way Jimin whines about how slow you’re being, but Jungkook is quick to your aid, scolding him whenever he had something to complain about. You playfully bump into his side, and he throws an arm over your shoulder.

“Oh, hell no.” Jimin exclaims from behind you. Jungkook makes sure to look over his shoulder right at him when he presses his lips against your temple; it’s casual and used to tease Jimin sure, but it makes you flustered all the same. “This is insufferable, and I don’t need this energy in my life right now.” He points between you both, sassily taking long strides forehead to move ahead of you and Jungkook. He hikes on ahead, leaving the two of you alone together.

On purpose.

Jungkook has since dropped his arm from your shoulder, and you hold your hands behind your back. When you look up at him and catch his eye, he huffs through his nose with a shy smile, and you chuckle nervously.

“So, did I tell you about that office party?”

No, he hadn’t. You’re not sure he ever intended on it – telling you that is – but the tension was thick. You can see the slight panic growing in his eyes, they always grew bigger and glossier when he was feeling nervous, as he claws at a point of conversation to break the awkwardness in the air. He probably had assumed you were done with socialising after what had happened last time.

You shake your head, chewing on your bottom lip as your fingers fiddle behind you.

“Oh, well. It’s tomorrow night. I don’t even think I want to go, though.” He shrugs, thrusting his hands into the pockets of his shorts. He looks ahead at Jimin who runs into an unsuspecting stray branch, and he blinks at him when he starts pointing at it and scolding as if it were him. He slaps the branch away, thinking he’s got the last of it, but it rebounds and hits his back. Jungkook looks down at the bark beneath his feet, fighting off a laugh.

You’re too busy in your thoughts to notice anything that’s going on around you. All you can think about is the way your arms brush his every now and then, because you never can just walk straight and always at an angle. Jungkook smiles every time you bump him lightly.

“Ah. Why not?” You ask.

Jungkook shrugs. “It’ll probably be boring, they usually are.”

It’s only half a lie. Some of them are boring, but some of them have been the most interesting nights of his mid-twenties. He had always brought Taehyung as a guest, and he was always the most theatrical drunk. There was a point in the night all Jungkook wanted to do was sing karaoke, even when nobody was left nor were they indulging in it alongside him. And Jimin…well, Jimin was Jimin— drunk or not.

“I’d rather hang out with you.” He smiles at you.

You don’t return it, and his curled-up lips slightly falter when he can’t figure out your expression. You pucker your lips and nod slow. “Hm.”

“What if you go and I come with you?” You ask, and he blinks at you.

“Um”

You narrow your eyes at him.

“Sure. If you want that, dove.” He’s dumfounded; you can tell. You could tell by the way he dragged out his words, chose them carefully when it could dial back to that bad memory. Honestly, you didn’t know if you thought that was kind or if it was offensive. You didn’t need to be coddled, but Jungkook is trying his best and that wasn’t fair to expect him to read your mind. You know how much he cares about you.

“We better go, I’m worried Jimin is going to fight with more of the foliage if we leave him alone any longer.”

Back at the car, you lean against the boot, looking up at the sky as Jimin stands a few feet away, his arms crossed and foot tapping against the dirt. You’re waiting for Jungkook to come back from the restroom, and neither of you know what to talk about.

It wasn’t that you didn’t feel comfortable around Jimin. That hadn’t ever been the case with how easily he slotted you into ‘I’m gonna pick you apart verbally and call out all your wrong doings’ category – which according to Jungkook meant that he liked you – it was more so the fact that he stared at you with narrowed eyes, glaring so sharply at you that you feel like the first layer of your skin was begging to shred off. Maybe it was the sun burning your face. You’re glad you’re adamant about your daily sunscreen application in this moment.

The sky wasn’t particularly that interesting, either. There’s like, no clouds up there— just a light blue abyss. It wasn’t all that exciting; the colour was nice maybe? Are you sweating?

“Stop ignoring me, I know you know that I’m looking at you.”

You squint when you pull your neck down, you rub the back of it because it’s kind of stiff from looking up for too long. “Hm?”

“Don’t act clueless,” Jimin raises a sharp brow, “It’s not gonna work on me.”

You groan, throwing your arms up in defeat. “What do you want from me?” You whine, stomping your foot dramatic, pouting like you’re having a temper tantrum akin to a toddler. His lip curls in a grimace at your attempt of being cute. Jungkook was buying this? He snorts at the thought of that.

“I just want to know if you plan on being serious.” He loosens his harshness with a shrug, letting his arms fall to his sides.

“With?” You lean back against the car again, resting your palms behind you.

“Like, are you serious about Jungkookie or are you not?”

Your entire body freezes and tightens, not expecting a weighted lecture from your roommate’s best friend about whether you are taking – whatever it is that’s going between you and Jungkook – seriously, at nine in the morning. “I would never do anything to hurt Jungkook.” You furrow your brows, kind of offended that Jimin would even insinuate that. “I care about him a lot.”

“Yeah, you do keep saying that.” He shifts his gaze, nodding in consideration. “So, then why were you with Taehyung the other day?”

“How do you know I was with Taehyung?” You push yourself off the car, crossing your arms with a lifted brow.

“Jungkook told me.”

Right. Jungkook.

He had seen you on the front steps the other day when Taehyung was dropping you off. There was something off about the whole interaction, and you haven’t spoken to Taehyung since. Granted, so much as happened within that time span— you had almost kissed Jungkook, for crying out loud.

And he didn’t even let you.

It was cruel. But you supposed you understood, for so long you hadn’t allowed yourself to indulge in feeling anything past a best friend for him. You couldn’t date someone while you were taking pictures for strangers, it was against your morals. That, and you weren’t exactly sure just how serious Jungkook would be about you. You liked the place you shared with him, but most of all you really cherished the friendship that had blossomed between you and him.

Maybe it was okay to explore something more, maybe he was the one for you. What was life if not to try new things even when you’re scared that might fall apart? Jungkook was good to you, and he always tried his best to be. It was clear in every word he said, and in every move he made. His actions always spoke volumes to you the most.

Perhaps you went out of your way to make him happy because you’ve felt the same.

Jungkook comes back before you can explain yourself to Jimin, that Taehyung was there for you when nobody gave you the time of day. He had only spent a few hours with you to help you feel better. It wasn’t anything weird, you didn’t have intentions with him or anything like that. He drops of Jimin and drives you back the apartment, the radio filling any spaces of quiet when your conversations ended naturally. He pinches your leg when he spots a yellow car, and you hit him a little too hard in retaliation, but he laughs so hard, it makes you smile.

He was right about joining them this morning— it did make you feel good.

Now that you’re let your feelings flow freely for the first time in a long time, all those small things you ignored before had hit your harder than ever. The two of you spend the rest of the day inside, and it was peaceful up until the late afternoon, just before dinner. He emerges out of his room; a towel is low on his waste and his shoulders are sprinkled with droplets of water he never got to dry off. His hair is wet, and the way he pushes it back when he enters the kitchen is lethal. His back faces you to open up the pantry, the muscles in his back subtly flexing and tensing as he rummages through. He’s done this so many times before.

Why did you feel so guilty looking at him now?

“I think I’m gonna make some kimchi fried rice.” He announces, and when he turns to face you, he just captures the way you shut your unhinged jaw. You look away as you start to blush. He smirks, “Careful, dove. Might catch a few flies.”

“That sounds fine.” You ignore his comment, pushing yourself up off the couch, scurrying toward your bedroom. “Gonna go study a little bit.” You mutter. He hums in acknowledgement as he moves around in the kitchen to make the both of you dinner. It’s all very normal, nothing seemingly out of the ordinary— to him, anyway.

In your room you’re staring at your laptop, struggling to bring yourself to gather your thoughts as they scatter around in your brain like strobe lights at a rave. Which only makes your head pound as a reminder of the habits you had in your early twenties, just prior to becoming Jungkook’s roommate. You couldn’t be further detached from that persona now, or that’s how you see it anyway. You use a lot of your old rave stuff to take pictures— well not anymore. “Ugh,” you slap your hands over your hot cheeks, trying to move on from the bad memories that continue to plague your mind. Somehow it always creeps its way back into there uninvited, even having deactivated and deleted your account ever since that dreadful dinner.

You do, however, plan to actually get some work done, you wanted to be a at least a little productive this weekend. You hated when the work piled up and you had it do it all at once, because then you’re grumpy and have no time to blow off some steam with your friends.

Your friends.

You wonder what they were doing this weekend. Do they miss you, too?

You shake the thought from your head, your fingers hovering over the keys, tapping against them mindlessly as you try for a decent way to start your essay. Usually you would spurt nonsense, add a couple of credible sources and fiddle with the end result once you’re done with it. In other words, it usually came easy to you, but you can’t even bring yourself to type even a word.

Not when you know Jungkook is cooking your dinner with a towel low on his waist. Did he even bother to pull on a pair of boxers? Your mind conjures up the image of him again, of you and him on the couch, but this time you wonder what would happen if he were just in his towel.

There you go, objectifying him again. You sigh, bowing your head with an annoyed groan. You haven’t been this fired up since you watched that re-run of 21 Jump Street at four in the morning when nothing else was on. And yes, you do mean the late 80’s television series that starred Johnny Depp. That was nearly a year ago now.

You had to admit it to yourself at least, that you were hard to get. You weren’t that easy to please, and a pretty face wasn’t enough to pique your interest. Not these days, not when you’re so focused on finishing school and kickstarting your career. You weren’t entirely aware of your surroundings, weren’t much of a people watcher when it came to strangers. It was more your thing to walk around with a pair of headphones and disappear from the world. When your friends used to point out someone was attractive when you were out in public, you would admit to them you hadn’t even noticed.

You never did a double take at the cute guy behind you in line at the university coffee shop, and you didn’t prolong that eye contact with the guy sizing you up at the party. Whether it was because your heart was reserved for someone else is uncertain, because you’re so shut off to the idea of pursuing romance that you probably wouldn’t even notice if it was staring you in the face.

When you looked into Jungkook’s eyes that night, when you leaned in to feel his lips…it was one of the most intense feelings you had felt in a long time. Like you had finally taken off the glasses you’ve worn around him your entire friendship, the ones that never allowed you to look beyond just that— friendship.

You felt hypocritical checking him out now, when you never have before, because you knew how it felt to be objectified without your knowledge. Suddenly you understand what it’s like being on the other end of the stick. It was humbling, to say the least.

With a frown you shut your laptop, accepting that you just weren’t going to be getting anything done. Not when you were preoccupied, not when you really wanted to let off some steam. Instead, you stare at your door that’s slightly cracked open.

You wonder if you should get up and close it, but you put your laptop on your nightstand and flop back onto your bed. You pull your pillow over your face and scream into its softness, muting your frustration. You stare at the ceiling, and your hands wander down your torso…

“Y/N? It’s done!” He calls, causing you spring up from your bed with a gasp.

You slide off your bed, clearing your throat. You tell yourself to act nonchalant, like you weren’t just about to touch yourself with your door open. You discover quickly that you’re not that great at it, because you’re as stiff as a rock when you waddle into the kitchen, avoiding looking at him entirely as you sit on your knees at the coffee table by the TV. Where you always ate. When he joins you, you learn that he has since thrown on clothes and you were grateful for that. You don’t think you would be able to handle it if he hadn’t.

He eyes you carefully when he places your bowl in front of you, staring down at the food. Your hands stay glued to your thighs; your smile is hollow, and the sound of your stomach grumbling breaks the silence first. He takes his first bite warily. “Are you alright?”

“Yeah, yep!” You chirp, looking up at him, but not really because your gaze moves straight past him. “Just waiting for you to kiss– eat! Waiting for you to eat first.”

Jungkook blinks at you, and there’s a grin that’s slowly tugging at the corners of his lips.

How the hell were you meant to bounce back from that?

You take the bowl in your hands, push a spoonful into your mouth. Your shoulders slump and you hold your bowl so close to your face it’s practically inside of it. You’ll chew for longer, you think, and maybe then you won’t say anything else humiliating.

“Cute.” He laughs under his breath. He takes another bite, looking chirpy when he puts the bowl down on the table. He props his shoulders on the table, rubbing his hands together. “You still want to kiss me, huh?”

Your eyes could fall out of their sockets with how wide they had gotten at his words. How could he be so forward? Can’t he see how red you’ve gotten! How embarrassing that was? You don’t want to admit that your frustration is just a front; your heart races and you think your brows are tightened and scrunched together but they’re lowered, and your eyes are softer than you think they are as they stare at him. You part your lips, shutting them like a fish out of water, grasping for air.

Instead, you’re grasping on for your sanity because the way he’s so clearly flirting with you, purposefully pushing your buttons to make you look at him— well, it works.

Clearly.

Consider your buttons pushed.

“Jungkook,” you warn, narrowing your eyes at him. “Drop it right now.”

He sighs, leaning over the table, forefinger rests on your chin, tilting your face up slightly when his thumb swipes against the corner of your lip. His gaze, and his thumb alike, linger on you for longer than necessary. You watch him in anticipation, but also because your words are caught in your throat; you’re too flustered to throw another playful quip his way.

“Nah.” His features crinkle up playfully, removing his hand from you and leaning back on his spot. “I like it when you blush because of me.” He flashes the most heart-throbbing smile your way, and it doesn’t falter when he picks his bowl back up, taking another large bite of his food.

You roll your eyes, grumpily doing the same. “Thank you for dinner.” You grumble.

“It’s no biggie. I like taking care of you.”

He’s so casual about it, when he says things so sweet they’d make your teeth ache. Has he always been this way or was he relishing in the fact that you’re starting to admit that you like him too? Because you do. You do like him.

A lot more than you thought, because it makes you smile shyly into your spoon. Taking small peaks at each other as you finish off your dinner in comfortable silence.

When Sunday night rolls around, you’re rushing around your room, tearing your closet apart as you get ready for the work function you had invited yourself to yesterday morning. You didn’t go to any previous ones, only heard stories from Jungkook whenever he stumbled home a little bit drunk, or in the morning when you were making him soup to cure his hangover. They were hit or miss, but the key to these functions, according to Jungkook, was to get drunk either way.

You weren’t going to argue with that.

He walks toward your room, adjusting the silver watch on his wrist to check if you’re nearly done getting ready. He’s stopped in front of your door when he’s distracted by the sight of you, can you catch sight of him gawking shamelessly at you through the reflection in the mirror. You snort, turning around to face him.

“Is this okay?” You ponder, not fully sure about the basic little black skirt you’ve thrown on, your top matching in colour. The long sleeves flare out toward the ends adding a little more character to the outfit. “Is it too simple?”

You didn’t mean to match him, completely unaware he too had gone for an all-black appearance. Or maybe subconsciously you did? You knew it was the colour he gravitated toward the most. His black compression top accompanied his baggy black jeans, a chunky pair of boots peeking out from beneath the hem.

“You look good.” He settles for, fighting the desire to shower you with every positive comment under the sun. And the way your legs looked beneath those sheer black tights.

That was dangerous territory, and he thinks you know that.

Ever since knowing him each time you pulled out the mini dress/skirt and tights combo, he had always been particularly touchy with you, more than usual. Hand on your knee, arm over your lower back; he’d search for every decent way you claim you amongst other predatory gazes, silently claim you even though you had never been his.

But to everyone he knew…you had always been off limits. Silently praying for the day he could hold you close to him and make it known to everyone else, too.

He flashes a crooked smile, he takes a step toward you, slow. “We look good.”

You’re about to scold him about tracking his shoes around on your carpet, but he reaches down for your hand, taking your hand lightly in his. He lifts your arm above you. “Look at my girl.” He exhales sharply, making you giggle.

“It wasn’t my intention to match with you.” You smile brightly at him, teasingly pushing at his chest. You turn to face the mirror again, to touch up at your appearance, give yourself another look at your outfit but discover the way Jungkook is raking half-lidded eyes over the curvatures of your body. You bite your lip, pretending not to notice. “We do, though.” You admit as he steps closer, resting his chin on your shoulder.

“We look like a couple.” He whispers against the shell of your ear, his breath warm and his voice sultry, the words sliding off his tongue smoothly. Wrapping his arms around you in a loose embrace. You tut in faux annoyance, pushing him off of you as you go to look for shoes to wear.

He sits at the edge of your bed, watching as you drop carefully to your knees, tugging your skirt down as to not flash him. He looks away anyway, his attempt at being chivalrous, he supposes. He rambles on, “I know I said we should take our time, but if you’re going to be looking like this all night…”

“I might just have to kiss you first.”

You freeze with a pair of doc martens in your grip. You scold him under your breath, scuttering out of your room as he strides after you, eyeing you off as you hop into your doc martens with a bit of struggle. He grabs the keys of the kitchen counter leading you out and toward the car, promising you that he won’t drink tonight so that you could have a little bit of fun and have a designated driver. It only made sense.

You and Jungkook are the last people to arrive – you never liked turning up too early – and are greeted by a multitude of cheers the moment familiar eyes spot you coming through the front doors. Before you can really react, Jimin is clapping Jungkook on his broad shoulders, dragging him over to the pool table, leaving you awkward standing by the front door.

“I’ll come find you later. Try to have some fun, dove!” He calls over the blaring music, leaving you on your lonesome.

Not for long though, because Jia and Hanna are waving you over the moment you spot them looking right at you. “Y/N!” Hanna waves you over, both her and Jia riddled with excited smiles. You’re wary when you walk toward them, your hands fiddling in front of you nervously. The moment you get close they both squeal with excitement, pulling you in for an unexpected group hug.

“It’s feels like it’s been forever!” Hanna pouts, looking at Jia.

“Yeah, we’re really sorry. We didn’t really react all that well, did we?” Jia chimes in, a guilty melding into her features.

You think you’re having one of those light bulb moments. You’ve spent nearly half the month wanting this moment to happen. Wanting them to say sorry, that they should’ve been there for you when you needed them the most, that having them by your side would have made things easier. But in turn, you’re realising something; they were so quick to abandon you— judge you, even.

Especially when there were people who were on your side. You part your lips in a sharp inhale, exhaling calmly through your nose as you smile at them. “Thank you.” Is all you say.

A hand snaking around your lower back makes you gasp, but when you look up to see its Taehyung, you relax. “Hey, doll.”

“Hi” You grin back wider, excusing yourself from your friends, or perhaps the friends that used to be. All was forgiven, and that was all that mattered in that moment to you. You felt lighter now, your shoulders straighten up as Taehyung leads you away, and you sit on the couch in the living room.

“You and the posse back together again?” He teases, fiddling with the wrapper of a piece of gum, he offers you one, but you decline with a wave of your hands.

“I don’t know…” you sigh, leaning back, peaking over at them from the corner of your eye. They’re laughing and smiling together, doing that thing that they always did at parties; the thing that all three of you used to do. Analyse everyone in the room. You were simply part of the heads in the room, now, and for the first time in a while, you feel okay about that.

“You’re better off, I reckon.” He shrugs, casually throwing an arm along the back of the sofa behind you. “Better than them.”

“It’s not that,” you laugh humourlessly, “They lost faith in me, changed their perception of me without a second thought.” You nod, as if coming to terms with it for the first time. In a way, you are, and the more you sit with the idea of that the happier you are to let them go.

“I never changed my perception of you.” Taehyung moves his arm. From around you, placing his warm hand on your knee. He taps, leans over to look down at you with an even warmer smile.

You nod, “Exactly!”

From across the room Jimin is burning holes through your head into Taehyung’s skull. He can’t help but think the two of you look way too close for comfort, and that set him on fire.

He had to act fast when Jungkook frowned at him “What’s wrong?” He asks, going to turn around by Jimin aims his pool stick straight into Jungkook’s chest.

“It’s your turn– do you need a drink? I need a drink.” Jimin’s tone of voice raises higher with each word, and he speaks too fast for it all to seem normal. He ignores the younger boys strange glare, pushing him toward the table as he rushes off toward you and Taehyung. He scoffs, leans over the table and prepares to make his play.

He looms over you like a storm cloud. Taehyung moves his hand as if he’s touched a fire, rubbing the back of his head. You tilt your head, looking up at Taehyung’s line of sight.

“Jesus Christ,” your body jolts in surprise, clutching at your chest. “A simple ‘hello’ would have been nice.”

“I need to talk with you, like– now.” He seethes between his teeth, grabbing your arm and lifting you off the sofa. Taehyung just leans back cooly against the couch when you stutter confusedly, and you give Taehyung a look for help, but he instead leans back against the couch cooly with a shrug.

Jungkook is mid-conversation with his other co-workers, turning just as Jimin is halfway across the apartment, dragging you down the hallway with a scrunched up look on his face. Jungkook’s eyes follow them until they out of sight with a dent between his brows.

He doesn’t stop until he shuts the both of you in the bathroom, flickering on every switch on the wall to produce light in the briefly dark area. He turns on all the fans as well as the lights, it was a blessing in disguise because it was noisy and maybe it will distract from your voices. The music was also kind of loud, anyway. You stand stick straight, tense and awkward as you search Jimin’s face for answers, but he throws his head back and groans a little bit too loud.

“Um? Hello?” You raise a brow.

“I need to tell you something important, okay?” He finally says, “I should have told you sooner, I think, but I just thought things were going to resolve on their own and things we’re honestly looking better for you, for Jungkook too and–”

“You’re rambling, Jimin.” You furrow your brows, crossing your arms. “Spit it out.”

“Taehyung– Y/N, you should be really careful hanging around him. He–”

“Why? He what?” Your arms fall to your sides, and you take a step toward him. The blond parts his lips, then bites on his bottom lip, reluctant to tell you what he’s about to tell you. “Jimin!”

“It was him, that’s why!” He shouts, he huffs out a breath, “He bought those photos from you, and he leaked them on that Facebook group.”

You scoff, glaring at him in disbelief. You start to shake your head and back off. “No.”

“It’s true.” He sighs, running a hand through his golden locks. “I’m sorry, I should’ve told you the minute I found out.”

You spit out a sob instead of the sour laugh you intend to come out of your mouth instead. You reach for the door, throwing it opens only to run into a hard chest.

You sniffle angrily, wiping at your nose as you look up to apologise, but the words don’t come out when you see that it’s Jungkook.

He doesn’t look at you, only stares daggers straight at Jimin. You look between them. Jungkook’s jaw tenses, pursing his lips as he nods slowly. Without a word, he turns on his heel, both you and Jimin calling after him as he storms back into the living room. The calls from you and his best friends are drowned out, ears ringing as he bee lines straight for Taehyung.

He’s leaning against the wall, a beer in his hand. He lifts his bottle in acknowledgement when he sees Jungkook coming toward him, only to be greeted with his tattooed, balled up fist. Square to his jaw. His drinks fall to the floor, shatters against the tiles. There’s a mixture of hollers and screaming when Taehyung stumbles back, tripping over his own feet onto the ground. Before he can react or defend himself, Jungkook pulls him back up by the shirt.

“You’re pathetic.”

He swings his hand back again, Taehyung staring straight into his friend’s eyes as he prepares for another hit.

Your soft hands grab at his bicep, halting his movement. “Baby,” your voice shakes. He freezes at the sound. “Let’s go home.”

He shoves Taehyung back, letting you drag him toward the door.

On the drive home, you soft sniffles are the only sounds that fill the car. Each time it hits his ears is like someone rubbing salt in the wound, and his knuckles grow white with his blaringly tight grip on the steering wheel. He swerves a little too sharply, and he drives a little bit too fast. You’re just glad he never got any alcohol in him. Although, you’re not sure him being angry and driving was any safer.

You do however make it home in one piece, but he stomps out of the car, opens your car door and slams it shut when you exit the car. His boots are loud and heavy with each step he takes, with purpose and conviction as he takes the elevator instead of the stairs. You follow him in, avoiding his eye. You’re just as angry as he was, if not angrier.

“Are you upset with me?” You whisper when you exit the elevator, and he fiddles with the keys as he unlocks the door to your shared apartment. He ignores you, kicks his shoes off and chucks the keys onto the coffee table. You shuffle after him, following him around like a lost puppy. “Jungkook?”

He knew Taehyung has been acting off. He didn’t deny Taehyung had always been a flirt, that much had always been true, he was suave with women, including yourself, but he found comfort in the fact you never gave him the time of day. Jungkook liked to think that it was because you ever only had eyes for him.

“I just can’t believe that fucking–”

You hush him, reaching for his arms. You soothe your palms over his biceps, drawing them up and down in hopes to help him relax. “Hey, look at me.”

He looks down at you with dark eyes, the rage slowly melting away when he watches your sad eyes find his. Your eyes flitter down to his pink lips then back up at his softening gaze.

Jungkook had always been your protector, since day one. There was nothing and no one that could stand between how much he cared about you— loved you. From the minute you stumbled into the apartment with a box too heavy for your wobbling arms, and he quickly took it from your struggling grip and offered to bring the rest of your things up for you. Told you that pretty girls shouldn’t be doing hard work.

Whenever you were too nice to end a conversation that you weren’t comfortable in, or had simply grown tired of, he was there to fabricate the lies that unwrapped you from the sticky web you had unintentionally stuck yourself within. Scolding you over a phone call or pretending he was kidnapping you just to scare your counterpart and give you something to laugh about later.

Because whenever you were laughing or smiling, Jungkook was happy. It had only been two years, it wasn’t that long, Jungkook had known Taehyung longer than that, yet the time didn’t seem to matter anymore.

When you know you love someone, you just loved them— and that was that.

Seven years of friendship with Taehyung, and he still stabbed him in the back. He wished he knew why, still wondering what the hell he was thinking hurting you like this. There was nothing you had ever done to him to make him hate you so much. Or maybe there was. His mind was too clouded to think about the ladder right now.

“You’re my girl, right Y/N?” He whispers, his own hand coming to rest on your waist. You hum, looking up at him with such an innocent look, as if your nails down drag lightly down his chest, over his nipples. He grunts, licking his lips.

“I could be your girl,” you sigh, your hands play with the hem of his black shirt. “If you want me to be.” Your hands dip beneath the fabric, feeling his hard abdomen beneath your fingers. “Will you take good care of me, Jungkook?” You ask, a teasing glint in your eye and a suggestive tone to your voice.

“Always take care of you, dove.” He breathes, his lips pressing into your hair. He inhales, his eyes shutting softly as you touch him slowly. You grow bold with your hands, dragging them down his abdomen and toward the belt of his jeans. You tug on it, making him stumble closer to you. “Careful.” He warns, fingers wrapping carefully around your wrist.

“You said I couldn’t kiss you.” You pout. “But you never said anything about sucking your dick.”

His grip loosens, drags gently up your arms as you take off his belt, letting it drop to the ground with a thud. You unbutton his jeans, and he watches your face carefully. “Y/N, are you sure you want to–”

You drop to your knees, making him swallow his words, adam’s apple bobbing as he swallows thickly. You smile impishly up at him, bottom lip between your teeth as your palms push on his thighs, back him up, making him sit down on the couch behind him. He watches you with a lustful gaze, letting you pull down the zipper, and he lifts his hips to aid you when you tug the denim down his legs.

His hand reaches out for you, tucking your hair behind your ear while your fingers trace the outline of his hard cock beneath his boxers. It twitches impatiently against your couch, and you bite your tongue when you feel a moan lingering in the back of your throat. Jungkook breathes heavily before you, watching you with dark eyes when you tug down the grey material, letting his cock spring out from its confines, raising to your attention. Jungkook smirks, carding his fingers through your hair when he notes you admiring his thickness.

“S'big.” You mumble, both your hands wrapping carefully around his length. Jungkook hisses, sinking into the couch. His features contort with pleasure when you lean forward and dart your tongue out to flick the tip over the head of his cock.

“Yeah, baby? You like it?” He runs his tongue over his teeth, watching you drag your tongue along his thick length. You drag it back up, enclosing your lips over the bulbous tip. He nearly growls, the sound rumbles within the depths of his chest as he pulls your hair back over your shoulders, holding it up with one hand in a make-shift ponytail. “Baby, baby…” He chuckles dryly, throwing his head back and shutting his eyes. “Can’t believe I’ve got your pretty mouth on my cock.”

You moan, your fingers wrapped around the base as you slowly drag your lips over the top half, your tongue swirling around him, your spit pooling from your lips as you lightly suck. His fingers tighten in your hair, looking down at you, and when you look up at him through fluttered lashes he twitches in your grasp.

You remove one of your hands, rubbing his thigh as you lower your mouth, taking in more of him, as much as you can. “Y/N…” he warns but doesn’t argue when you remove your other hand, your nose hitting his pelvis.

He cries out your name again when he feels your throat contract around him. You gag slightly but still take your time dragging your mouth back up, sucking on the head of his length before doing it again. “You’re– fuck, dove.” He mutters incoherent words that you can only assume to be words of praise, blinking slowly at you as he places his free hand on top of the one you have on his thigh. He bites harshly on his lip with knitted brows as he lightly tugs you up and off his cock. “No more.” He pants, “C’mere.”

He helps you crawl up into his lap, pulling you up by your arms. Your legs are feeling weak and a little sore from being on your knees for a little too long, but when you throw your legs over each side of him and lower your hips onto his, you forget all about the soreness. His dick is angry and red, pressed against his shirt and waiting to feel your touch again.

“Always knew you’d have a pretty cock.” You admit your thoughts aloud, rounding your hips against his lap. “Felt so heavy on my tongue.”

He chuckles lowly, pulling off his shirt. He tosses it to the side, his hands roughly exploring your fully clothed body. He frowns, tugging on the end of your top. “Can I take it off? Wanna see you pretty girl.” When you nod, a little bit too enthusiastically, he peels it off your body as you hold your arms up so he can pull it over your arms and head. “Wanna see all of you.” He sighs.

He throws it in the same direction he threw his shirt and watches you gingerly as you slide the straps of your bra down your shoulders. Your eyes don’t break from his, and he watches your face closely, letting himself get lost in you. Reminding himself that this wasn’t a dream. You were really here, needing him— wanting him. His fingers dragging patiently up and down your back, and even when you drop your bra behind you after you unclasp it from the back, he still smiles at you, cupping your cheek.

“You’re beautiful, you know?” He whispers like if he spoke any louder, he might wake up. You might slip through his fingers, like all those maybe’s and almost’s he clung to before this moment. “Can’t believe you’re choosing me.”

“I’ve always chosen you Jungkook,” the moment feels melancholic, and there’s a twinge of guilt in your eye that he’s too glad that this moment is true to pinpoint. But you know it’s there, you feel it inside of you, because you set him aside in ways you didn’t even realise until you looked at him now. “I’m just…” you roll your eyes away in search for the right words, “Choosing you again.”

He laughs at that, and it’s only when it dies down that he looks down at your bare chest, he sucks in a breath, letting his hands climb your stomach, letting them rest just beneath the juncture of your breasts. He leans forward, and your eyes flutter shut when you feel his lips on your neck, swiping his tongue over your skin, lowering them dangerously close to where you want them.

You release a needy sigh when his thumb swipes over your nipple, stiffening under his brief touch. He kisses the tops of your breasts sweetly, then wraps his lips around your nipple and sucks harshly.

“Oh, Jung– ah!” you gasp, the sound is borderline pornographic as you grind into him. You shuffle up off his knee and higher up to lower yourself where his cock rests, the material of your panties rubbing against his erect member. He flicks quickly at your other nipple, making out with your other so messily that you shiver when he pulls his mouth away. The air feels cold against your wet tit and there’s a wild look in his eye when he meets your blissful gaze. You focus on rubbing yourself against him, and his hand climbs from your breast to wrap around your neck. You grind down hard on him and it makes him freeze, his fingers flexing around your throat. You halt your hips, blinking at him when he shuts his eyes with an annoyed groan.

“What’s wrong, baby?” You pout, your gentle hands rubbing at his chest. He’s eyes flicker to where your clothed cunt presses against his cock, then looks back up at you wordlessly.

You take the hint, swinging your leg over him and crashing back onto the pouch much to your dismay. He takes the moment to kick his boxers off where his jeans are sitting, and he clears his throat and waddles awkwardly down the hall.

You hold back a giggle, admiring his ass while he walks away. You puff, looking around the living room you knew so well, and you decided you’d rid yourself of your tights and skirts while you waited also. You lay back, spread your legs and play with the ends of your hair, huffing impatiently.

When he walked back in, he’s ripping the wrapper of the condom with his teeth, but he pauses for a second when he catches sight of you. He tongues at the inside of his cheek, a dry breath of amusement leaving his nose. He doesn’t waste much more time, he clambers onto the couch, knees on either side of you as he makes you watch him roll the condom onto his cock.

He hovers over you, body so close you can feel the heat of his skin radiating off of him. His face is inches from yours, and he flashes you the cheekiest smile you’ve ever seen. “I know I told you not to kiss me on this couch, but–” He presses his lips against yours in a sweet, chaste kiss. Your eyes shut immediately, and you lean up when his lips pull away from yours far too soon. “I’m about to fuck you on this couch.” He kisses you again, and your hands slide up his shoulders and rest at the nape of his neck. “It’s only fair you get to kiss me too, right?” He rests his forehead against yours, and when you laugh, shaking your head with amusement, he can’t help but pepper a few more kisses over your face and neck.

“Then fuck me, Kook.” You whine, “I’ve been waiting too long.”

He wants to make a snarky remark back, tell you that he’s been waiting even longer than you could ever imagine, but who is he to deny you when you’re begging him like that? He leans back, and you raise your hips when he spits roughly into his palm and tugs on his cock.

You mewl at the pretty sight of him fisting his length tightly, prepping himself for you. He hisses, pulling his brows together when he circles the tip of his cock around your entrance before pushing it past your hole. Your breaths come out quick in silent moans, relishing in the delicious stretch of his thick cock pushing its way inside your tight walls. He groans, praising you, reminding you just how good you are for him. He collapses on top of you when he fills you to the brim, kissing your shoulder as he lets you adjust.

It's sweet of him, and you don’t have the heart to tell him you want him to ruin you. You didn’t realise how much you needed this, needed him. Your legs wrap around his waist with a huff, and when your cunt squeezes him, he catches on, and he pulls out and slams right back into you. You cry out his name, grasp onto his arms that are holding himself up on the arm rest you’re resting your head upon.

“How do you like it, dove?” He whispers into your ear, teeth tugging at your lobe teasingly. ”You like it hard?” He repeats the harsh movement of his hips again, snapping against yours with a loud thwack. He watches your reaction, the way your eyes roll back at the dull stinging in your cunt. You savour that feeling, rolling your hips against him slowly. “Wanna be fucked like the little slutty tease that you are, hm?” He continues to pound into you, squeezing the thighs that tighten around his lower back as he picks up the pace.

Jungkook learns quickly, though he doesn’t expect it, that you aren’t a quiet fuck. No, you’re quite the opposite— the cries of his name, the whimpers and the moans with each piston of his hips, as he thrusts his cock into your sweet spot over and over is a telltale sign.

What Jungkook doesn’t know is that you usually are— quite a quiet fuck, that is.

“Fuck, you’re a noisy little thing, aren’t you?” He noses at your jaw, nipping at the skin as you wail for into his ear.

“You’re gonna make me cum!” You cry, palms pushing down on his back to bring him closer to you. His chest brushes against your hardened nipples, and you grind up to meet his rough thrusts. His jaw tenses when you start to flutter around him. “Oh, baby, oh Koo!”

“Cum then, all over my cock pretty girl.” He husks into your ear, and just as you’re about to announce that you’re cumming, he brings his lips onto yours, lets you moan into his mouth instead. You convulse beneath him, sighing into his kiss.

He drags his cock in and out of you slowly, allowing you to ride out your high. He’s so close. You hum, clenching around him, making him shudder. “Don’t stop, want you to cum too.” You tell him.

He leans back, holding your hips as he fucks you slowly, admiring the way your tits bounce, your half-lidded stare and the way you bite on your finger provocatively. His features scrunch, head dropping as he uses your cunt, hips stuttering as he reaches his own release. “Y/N, fuck, baby…”

You wince when he pulls out of you, your once stretched now empty of the feeling of him inside of you. “I deprived myself of this? For two years?” You hide your reddened face in your hands, your comment eliciting a hearty laugh out of your roommate. He leans down again, tugging of your wrists to see your face.

“You’re crazy.” He teases, grinning widely at you, pressing his lips against yours. Letting them linger there as the feeling sets in. “I’ll bring you a towel.”

He disappears into the bathroom, and you let yourself have a moment to shut your eyes and rest. You can’t drop the dumb smile that’s beginning to hurt your cheeks, though. Even when the rest of your body is laxed— content.

On the coffee table, the buzz of a text peels your eyes open. You sit up, thinking it could be yours but only Jungkook’s phone sits there. You pick it up, opening your mouth to let him know he got a text, but when you see the name that pops up on his lockscreen, which is a picture of you and him making cross-eyes at the camera, you feel your heart sink into your stomach.

Jungkook returns with a wet cloth and dry towel, but when he catches on to the look on your face, he freezes on the spot. “Y/N, what is it? What’s wrong?”

You hold his phone up to him, showing him the missed text.

A text from none other than Yuri.

“Miss you too, big boy.” You stand up, shove his phone into his chest, and storm off into the bedroom, but not before you rip the towel from his grip to cover your body from him. You had just borne yourself vulnerable to him, shared your body with him.

Jungkook flinches when he hears your bedroom door slam closed. He doesn’t even move his phone from his chest, just grips onto it tighter than before as his heart pounds harshly in his chest.

You didn’t think your night was going to get any worse, not after you found out what Taehyung did.

But alas, it had, and it was the cherry on top of the cake— Jungkook hadn’t even bothered to end things with Yuri.

You try to ignore the tears forming in your eyes, angrily pulling your pyjamas from your closet, and throwing them onto your bed. You move toward the shower, hoping it was going to help flush out your thoughts. But the moment you step underneath the warm water, you can’t hold back the sobs that force their way out of your throat.

Jungkook can hear them clearly, taunting him through the walls of his room.

Neither of you can get any sleep that night.

taglist: @bhonbhon, @rikifever, @jungkookswifeeeeeee, @songbyeonkim @ttanniett, @jungkookswifeeeeeee, @songbyeonkim, @busanbby-jjk, @justsomoneliving, @supercoolchem, @jeeykey, @toosweetforyall, @nikkinikj, @prxdajeon, @whoa-jo, @kelsyx33, @bugbxte, @army7-013, @jmsrealgf, @elimelbe, @yunhoswrldddd

#jungkook smut #jungkook x reader #jungkook fan fiction #jungkook fanfic #jungkook x you #jungkook fic #jungkook fanfiction #jungkook roommate au #jungkook imagine #jungkook imagines #bts smut #bts imagines #bts x you #bts fanfiction #jigglyjeon #attss

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makoto-kaiser-blog · 1 day ago

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FACT!!!

AS SOMEONE WHO WAS BULLIED ALL THROUGHOUT SKOOL SINCE ELEMENTARY TILL THE END. THE SKOOL DIDN'T REALLY LISTEN TO WHEN ME OR MY FRIENDS REALLY NEEDED HELP. I WAS LABELED AS THE "CRYBABY" AND WAS THE BUTT OFF EVERY JOKE. THANKS FOR ALL THE YEARS OF MENTAL AND EMOTIONAL ABUSE!

IF I BROKE DOWN AND GOT UPSET I WAS "OVERREACTING" OR "THROWING A TANTRUM" CAUSE I COULDN'T HANDLE OR PROCESSES BIG EMOTIONS. JOKES ON THEM I WAS UNDIAGNOSED MY WHOLE SKOOL LIFE AND ALL THOSE "TANTRUMS" AND "OVERREACTIONS" WAS ME HAVING MENTAL BREAKDOWNS, PANIC AND ANXIETY ATTACKS FROM OVER STIMULATION AND BEING UNABLE TO UNDERSTAND WHAT WAS GOING ON.

I WAS SEEN AS THE "TEACHER'S PET" CAUSE I WAS A PPL PLEASER BUT I WAS STRUGGLING WITH GRADES AND FOCUSING BUT NO ONE KNEW HOW TO "DEAL WITH ME" ONES THE LITTLE "FLOWERPOT" CRUMBLED AND STARTED CRYING.

THE FEW TIME I ACTUALLY DID SNAP DUE TO STRESS AND OVERWHELMING EMOTIONS, WAS WHEN I WAS GETTING IN TROUBLE FOR STRUGGLING TO FINISH MY WORK CAUSE I KEPT BREAKING MY PENCIL AND THROW IT AT THE TEACHER OUT OF ANGER AND FRUSTRATION (DUE TO THE BUILT UP OF LOTS OF THINGS THAT WAS HAPPENING THAT DAY)

WHEN MY MOM CAME TO THE SKOOL TO "HELP" BECAUSE I WAS STRUGGLING WITH MY GRADES AND ALL I COULD FEEL WAS HUMILIATION AND SHAME TILL THE POINT I SNAPPED AT HER AND SAID SOME REALLY REALLY BAD THINGS TO HER TILL THE POINT WE BOTH STARTED CRYING. THAT TILL THIS DAY STAYED IN MY HEAD AND I REGRET EVERYDAY (THIS HAPPENED BACK IN ELEMENTARY SCHOOL WHEN I WAS REALLY YOUNG BUT ITS FOREVER SCARRED IN MY HEAD)

THE LAST TIME I WAS JUST SO OVERWHELMED BY LOTS OF STUFF THAT WAS GOING ON AT THE TIME AND I COULDN'T CONTROL MY EMOTIONS ANYMORE AND I ACCIDENTALLY SNAPPED AT ONE OF MY BULLIES AND SAID SOMETHING THAT WASN'T SAFE TO SAY IN SKOOL (AT THAT MOMENT I BLANKED OUT AND DIDN'T PROCESS WUT I SAID TILL THEY TOLD ME LATER) I DIDN'T MEAN ANY HARM AND THE BULLY KNEW I'D NEVER ACTUALLY DO ANYTHING TO HURT THEM BUT SOMEONE ELSE THAT OVER HEARD WENT AND TOLD SOMEONE. SO WHILE I WAS PULLED OUT OF CLASS DUE TO MY "TANTRUM" AND WAS TAKEN TO THE COUNSELOR TO TALK THINGS OUT, THEY TOLD ME THAT I COULD GO HOME FOR THE DAY AND I WAS ALREADY A WRECK TO I WAS JUST PANICKING AND CRYING AT HOME THE WHOLE DAY. THE NEXT DAY I HEAD I WAS BANNED AND COULDN'T GO TO SUMMER SCHOOL BECAUSE OF THE THREAT I MADE BY WHEN I WAS UPSET. IT BROKE ME AND MADE ME COMPLETELY LOOSE FAITH AND RESPECT FOR THE SKOOL, IT DIDN'T HELP WHEN MY DAD FOUND OUT I GOT IN TROUBLE HE DIDN'T EVEN WANNA HEAR OR LEARN WHY OR WUT HAPPENED, HE JUST GOT MAD AT ME AND IT BROKE ME EVEN MORE AND THE WHOLE SUMMER I WAS A COMPLETE MESS CAUSE OF WUT HAPPENED AND CAUSE THEY DIDN'T LET ME GO TO SUMMER SCHOOL EVEN THOUGH I REALLY NEEDED IT TO PASS.

IT TOOK A LONG TIME TILL THEY LET ME GO TO THE LAST 2 WEEKS OF IT AND I CRAMMED ALL THE WORK OVER THAT TIME

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kieranduffysgirl · 3 days ago

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simon 'ghost' riley x price's daughter ˚ ۪ ୨୧⊹

wc: 0.8k

warnings: petnames (love, lovie, little missy, missus, baby), kissing, cuddling, physical affection, mention of intimacy, inexperienced!simon, soft!simon, sweet!simon, soap cameo (and he's a bit cocky soz guys), gaz cameo (anxious gaz 4 life)

a/n: I love sweet and shy simon, this man is definitely quiet and awkward with girls but I can imagine hin being all cute and gentle in a secret relationship, also he would be the best son in law Price could ask for lets be honest - a snippet from an upcoming collection!

∘•···············•∘ʚ ୨୧ ɞ∘•················•∘

"You pair need to remember she's my daughter, we're not in a pub and you're not to try anything with her...she's my little girl." John huffed in exhaustion as he sipped his bottle of beer on the decking of his rural cabin by the English coast. An anxious Gaz and a an unbothered Soap sat in from of him.

"Of course...I'm sure there's plenty of other girls around, Captain..." Gaz mumbled anxiously as he fiddled with his empty bottle of beer. He had no intention of trying anything on with Price's daughter, but the idea of disappointing him was nerve wracking for him.

Soap on the other hand didn't give a single shit.

"Dinnae get why not, she's a wee bonnie lassie...aye, I'd be a stella son-in-law too," He rambled on as he took a swig of his beer, "Why y'not givin' ole Riley this lecture too, Cap?"

John sighed and rolled his eyes, "Simon hasn't even spoken to a girl on our nights out, never been on a real date...don't think he's ever been near a girl...and whenever little missy walks into the room he's quieter than ever." He explained casually, it was known that Simon was inexperienced and lacked any female interaction.

But, what they failed to notice was that Simon had turned up to the cottage already, but was still tucked away inside the kitchen.

His arms were tightly around Price's daughter as he mumbled, "Missed you lovie...love you so much...you putting the kettle on for me, love?"

His lips were all over her cheek and neck as he gripped her tightly, her giggles filled the kitchen as she wiggled and tried to kiss him back whilst making him a cup of tea. Her smile was brighter than the sun itself and she was warm, loving and gentle. Her patience with him was something he had never experienced before, she made him feel loved in a way no one ever had before and it made his heart ache.

∘•···············•∘ʚ ୨୧ ɞ∘•················•∘

They had fallen in love nearly a year ago, when Price had bought the boys to the same coastal cottage for a summer break after a rough mission. One that had Simon reliving his childhood trauma and battling his ptsd, but she cared for him like no one else did...she almost understood him in a way.

Simon had spent his nights on the deck, holding her hand and listening to her story, she always did the same in return. She always helped him piece together his own story. He didn't see when, but at some point his arms wrapped around her and drew her close to him, closer than anyone had ever been. His lips brushed against hers as he whispered, "Please..." a plea for her love, her affection, her attention and her hand in courting.

He hadn't ever had someone.

And neither had she.

They were so deeply in love, but no one else could even see it. It was as if it was a secret so well kept that only the stars that shone that night could remember their confessions and kisses that were the catalyst to this sweet romance. He began to avoid all women at the bars and barely spoke to any other girl when he was out because he knew his sweet birdie was waiting for him to come home, but the boys put it down to his lack of experience and social skills.

∘•···············•∘ʚ ୨୧ ɞ∘•················•∘

"Missed you lots and lots..." She mumbled softly against his, chapped and scarred, lips as she let him lift her up to the counter to be at his height. His large, callous, worn hands were gently running over her plush stomach and around her freckled back to cuddle her so close it was almost suffocating.

"My missus...Mrs Riley..."He whispered tenderly into her ear as he held her tightly, as if scared she would be taken from him. Like someone would swoop in and steal her away. His insecurities were the bane of his life, always in the forefront of his mind, it made him sick to think of losing her in any way.

She giggled softly, like an angel, and whispered, "Need to ask good old Captain Price for his blessing first, baby..." as she quietly slipped down from the counter to finish making tea for her loving, gentle and slightly anxious boyfriend.

His heavy arms settled around her plush waist and he hunched down to her shorter height to rest his scrapped, scarred and stubbled chin on her head. "Mhm...soon..." He mumbled into her silky tresses as he pressed gentle, butterfly-like kisses to her parting of her locks.

The loving reunion occurred under the soft glow of the sunset in the rustic kitchen, as Price sat outside with Gaz and Soap completing oblivious to the gentle lovers inside.

Completely oblivious to the connection between the two broken people, a connection built on love, trust and respect.

Maybe soon it would grow harder to conceal, or maybe Simon would finally ask for Price's blessing to marry his daughter. The little, vintage engagement ring in his pocket was quietly praying for the latter result to happen, in order to grace her finger and portray their love outwardly.

∘•···············•∘ʚ ୨୧ ɞ∘•················•∘

#@kieranduffysgirl #aveswrites #cod x reader #cod modern warfare #simon ghost riley #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #simon ghost x reader #simon riley cod #simon ghost fluff #simon ghost x you

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pearlfull · 18 hours ago

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must be love

⋆✴︎˚｡⋆ SYNOPSIS: Batboys as boyfriends and their habits in a relationship! SFW + NSFW. 18+. 〝 What did you give me to make my heart beat out my chest? 〞 Batboys x Reader. ⋆˚࿔ A/N: Thanks for love on my last post! I TAKE REQUESTS! Sorta rusty, but I've missed writing sm chat

ᯓ★ DICK GRAYSON.

SFW

DICK GREW UP WITH BRUCE'S OLD WORLD MANNERS AND ALFRED'S TENDERNESS. It would be insulting to both of them if he didn't treat his partner following those examples of devotion.

Always has a hand on you. Thigh when he's driving, drawing circles on the inside with the other on the wheel, the small of your back as you're walking through a crowd to help you guide through the heat of bodies around you both, your hip when he's talking to someone else.

So there's no question when you both are out that you're his. Not because he clings, just because he's so unmistakably in love and he's loud about it. His hand finds yours without thinking, it's second nature to him. He laughs louder when you're happy, arm stays around your waist.

When you're not around? If someone tries their luck, any girl is met with a smile and he shakes his head sweetly, "Someone gorgeous has me."

Another thing about Dick is he shows up. Not just for you, the other people in your life. They're important to you, so they're important to them. He bribes your little brother with action figures and of course he'll drive your sister to soccer practice, and they can hit boba on the way home afterwards. Holds your dog during fireworks. Your roommate has a bad date and he's on the couch with you and gives his two cents from a guy's perspective and wait hey, he thinks Wally's her type?

"They like me, right?" His hair has stray pieces of sawdust from helping your dad fix the garage door, and there's a streak of grease staining his shirt. "I can't have your whole bloodline turning on me if I mess up babe."

He wants to find his way to fit into your world. And vice versa for sure!

Will bring you to the manor, and kiss the inside of your wrist and introduce you to Alfred like you're royalty. "This is (her. him. them.)"

Like that's all the explanation needed.

With the others, he lights up when they ask about you, or when you play cards with Jason and Tim, compliment and study Dami's drawings or make Bruce and Cass laugh.

When you go out with his friends, he'll drape his arm around you and grin when they tease you both.

At his apartment, he presses a kiss softly to your lips after you steal a sip of his beer and Roy will grin at the lovestruck expression on Dick's face before raising his brows at him, "Why don't you ever do that to me?"

Flowers are often. Will deliver them casually, too. Was 4th of July a worthy occasion for them? You don't know but you don't really mind.

NSFW

Munch city. DON'T YELL AT ME I'M RIGHT.

Lives for your pleasure, but there's nothing performative about it, he just gets off to how he can make you feel.

He takes his time, draws it out, and holds your hips down to keep you from squirming. "Where're you going, pretty?"

Literally moans into you, louder if you get louder, looks up at you as if he's seeing the face of God.

"So pretty like this, fuck."

Offers constantly. You'd honestly think he's ovulating. You're drying your hair as you step out the shower, and he's kissing the side of your neck sweetly, and tugging you to his bed murmuring something like, "C'mere. Wanna taste you real quick." It's not quick, you both know, but he's already kissing inside your thighs.

All hands and praise!!

Doesn't rush the after, he's walking you to the bathroom and when you're back he has a wet towel and an iced water with a straw.

ᯓ★ JASON TODD.

SFW

JASON DOESN'T LOVE LIKE HE WAS BORN INTO IT, BUT RATHER LIKE HE HAD TO LEARN HOW TO DO IT.

Clumsy, then careful!

He's practical, until he's not.

Until you mention wanting to see a local play, and when you get home he's bought tickets to four.

"This one's experimental." His finger points to the pamphlets he got when he drove down to the ticket office. "This one's about war. Feminist period piece. A musical." He gets quieter, and shrugs like it's not a big deal. "Thought we could make a thing of it."

He's practical until he's adopting a kitten with you, no question.

You find her outside your complex in a silver bin, tiny and shaking and definitely sick. He just sighs and peels off his jacket to wrap it up as you kiss his cheek. "Guess we're cat people now."

You find him on the couch with the cat on his chest and he's reading Wuthering Heights lowly to her. He doesn't look up, just rolls his eyes.

"Don't start, [Name.] She likes the voices."

He doesn't say I love you early. But he definitely acts like it. He'll pull you behind him when you cross the street quickly, text you "home safe?" before you've even made it to your driveway.

Observant would be putting it lightly. Your favorite shampoo and conditioner is in his shower and he keeps makeup wipes and guesses your lipgloss shade to have an extra in his pocket in case you misplace it.

Checks your apartment locks, and replaces them, "Sweetheart, these deadbolts were shit."

Learns all your favorite recipes.

He learns how you like your eggs how you want the edges of your sandwiches.

"You feed the people you love, right?" A beat. "And I love you."

Your favorite childhood meal. How your mom made it after your first breakup, a week later the aroma is filling your apartment, and he has sauce on his cheek and he's trying not to grin.

He loves to cook with you too! Jason'll open the jars, hold your hips while you're focused on stirring.

Annotates your favorite books. Watches your favorite movies. Without complaint. He wants to know you. And initially it was scary, but you're healing parts of him he didn't know were hurt, and he tries to do the same.

Tipsy Jason? The roughness practically melts out of him.

He drinks slow till you arrive, and when you do, he lights up and Roy laughs and shakes his head as Jay pulls you into his lap with his drink still in hand, kissing your shoulder.

You tease him for being clingy, but the next he's murmuring into your hair, "Don't get how someone like you gets to be with me."

NSFW

Needs to see your eyes, and hear you fall apart because of him.

"C'mon, sweetheart. Wanna see those pretty eyes while I fuck you."

Whines when you moan his name, and ruts harder when you beg.

If you try and stay quiet, he slows down and looks at you like he's got every bit of time on his hands. "Say it again, want that voice, baby."

ᯓ★ TIM DRAKE.

SFW

DESPITE EVERYTHING, TIM IS CONSISTENT! He always makes time for you, and doesn't brag about it, doesn't rearrange his schedule in front of you.

"I'll be in your neighborhood in ten minutes." You raise your voice to protest, but he's already lacing up his shoes.

Spoiled would be an understatement, but to Tim? It's bare minimum, don't even think twice about it.

He'll subtly match outfits with you. Red tie, to compliment your gloss. Soft grey if you choose blue. Enough so when pap photos come out later, you'll notice.

"You do that on purpose?"

"We look good."

Places for dates are quiet when you go out: old jazz bars, private late night planetarium tours.

When he picks you up, the smoke curls in the air like the music and he's gotten you the booth in the corner next to the drums.

You also go to the aquarium, the whole place is closed to the public. You swing his hand as it's laced into yours, eyes glittering and you can tell he's trying not to laugh at your excitement. “How did you manage this?”

He just shrugs, and kisses your cheek. “I had a favor owed. Small bribe. You said you used to come here with your mom.”

You almost melt into the floor.

He loves your perfume! In a really sweet way.

Will steal your scarf in the winter to wear to work. Buries his face into your shoulder when he hugs you.

Eventually purchases a travel size of your signature scent for himself to help remind him of home when he's away.

He keeps a photo of you in his wallet, tucked behind his ID. Steph teases him for it, claims he acts like he's a soldier at war carrying a picture of his wife.

It happens on accident that you find it, you're sitting on your couch on a Sunday, your legs draped across his lap, he's rifling through it to find a gift card that has thirty more bucks on it. He flips through it, one hand on your waist, thumb tracing lazy circles over your hip bone.

There's a flash of photo paper and you blink. "Go back."

He raises his brows, freezing, "What?"

You pluck it from his hands, thumbing it through yourself and there it is. A tiny picture of you. He must've printed it himself, but you remember when it was taken. You, with a matcha latte and a goofy grin pointing to a billboard behind you with Tim's face on it.

You laugh, but tuck it back in. "You keep this in your wallet?"

"Yeah." His voice is soft, but his eyes crinkle with amusement.

"Why?"

"Because it's the one I always liked. Makes me laugh. You look pretty and like soft. And mine."

You stare at him a moment too long, and he rolls his eyes, "Okay, I sound insane."

"Nope."

Also nights in?? A great break for Tim. He gets overwhelmed easily and when he comes home he wants something real and sometimes that's you playing Mario Kart on his floor in his pajama bottoms.

Or decorating cookies shaped like lopsided bats.

You let him put his armor down, literally and figuratively.

NSFW

He works from beneath you!!! Controlled and deep thrusts, eyes locked on yours and studying the way your chin tilts and nose scrunches when he hits the right spot.

His hands are everywhere, but your hips are his favorite, rolling them in slow circles.

"That's it," "Just like that, fuck."

He also loves seeing you completely bent over sorry. Your back arched, legs shaking and your winded breath every time he pushes it in deeper.

Kissing your shoulder. Groaning against your back, he'll make you look at him

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stlllle · 19 hours ago

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Stray Kids Headcanons — How They Act When They Miss You

Pairing: OT8 x Reader

Genre: Fluff, Soft Angsty Moments, Domestic Boyfriend Energy

Warnings: None, just pure soft chaos, mentions of longing, teasing and clingy boyfriends.

Author’s Note: Hey, angels 🖤! I’ve been cooking this headcanon for a while because let’s be honest — the Stray Kids are totally the type to miss their partner in the most ridiculous, cute and chaotic ways

If you like it and want to request something, feel free to! My requests are open 🙂 --

Masterlist –[link]

If you enjoy it, leave a comment or reblog, it means the world to me 🖤✨

Bang Chan — Habits he has when he misses you

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Constantly checking his phone just to see if you’re online

Chan’s not usually clingy over text — in fact, he always tries to respect your space and not be that boyfriend. But when he misses you, he keeps unlocking his phone every two minutes to check if you’re online on KakaoTalk or Instagram.

Not even to text you — because he knows if he does, he’ll give away just how much he’s craving you, and Chris has this weird habit of pretending he’s got it under control.

His phone becomes an extension of his hand when you take too long to reply. Even when he’s in a meeting, he’ll sneak a glance just to see if your name pops up.

“Ugh… not even a story today?” he mumbles under his breath, shoving the phone back in his pocket — only to pull it out again twenty seconds later.

---

Looping the same song that reminds him of you

Bang Chan has this habit of connecting songs to people, and you have your own private playlist on his Spotify.

Whenever he misses you, he puts that one particular track that reminds him of you on repeat. It might be the first song you ever shared, or one you swore he didn’t like but secretly added to his saved list.

He listens to it while training, driving, or lying in bed.

If it gets really bad, he’ll lay down on the studio couch, hood pulled over his face, and just let the song play on loop.

“Why the hell did I let myself fall this hard, huh…” he whispers with a soft, defeated grin.

---

Hugging anything that smells like you

A hoodie you left behind, a T-shirt you wore at a sleepover, the pillowcase from his bed — when he misses you, he instinctively clings to anything that still has your scent on it.

It’s unconscious. He’ll grab the hoodie while lying down and only realize what he’s doing when someone points it out.

One time, Hyunjin walked into the studio to find Chan hugging your hoodie while working on his laptop.

“Yo… isn’t that Y/N’s?”

“Shut up.”

But didn’t let go.

---

Getting easily annoyed over dumb things

When he misses you, everything else starts to irritate him.

His computer freezes, Changbin leaves a mess in the studio, the coffee’s not sweet enough… it’s like your absence makes him extra sensitive and every tiny thing becomes an issue.

If anyone asks what’s wrong, he brushes it off, claiming he’s tired. But only Felix can tell by the way he fiddles with the bracelet you gave him and stays unusually quiet.

---

Rewatching your old videos and voice notes

Chan’s a silent emotional type.

When he misses you, he opens your old videos and voice notes — even the dumb ones where you’re ranting about a headache or lying in bed whispering a goodnight.

He’s never deleted a single one. He even has a secret folder.

His favorite? A video of you in pajamas, hair messy, smiling sleepily:

“You’re ignoring me, huh? It’s fine… just wanted to say I miss you.”

He watches it three times before bed when the ache hits.

“You have no idea how much I miss you too, baby…” he mutters to his screen.

---

Overworking himself at the gym or studio

When he can’t be near you, Chan tries to bury himself in work. Extra dance practice, long studio hours, random remix ideas for songs that don’t need remixes — anything to distract his brain.

But it never works.

Halfway through editing, he’ll catch himself typing your name in the file name or hiding a message in the beat.

“‘MissYouY/N.mp3’? Seriously, bro… I’m screwed.”

But he won’t delete it.

---

Staring at you nonstop on video calls

When you finally FaceTime, he can’t stop staring.

Even when you’re rambling about the most random stuff, he watches you like you’re the most fascinating thing in the world.

Chan’s got this habit of admiring you quietly — studying your face, the way your hair falls, how you bite your lip when you’re thinking.

When you catch him and ask “What?”, he just shrugs:

“Nothing… just thinking about how pretty you are.”

---

Biting his lip without realizing it

It’s physical.

When he misses you, he starts biting his lower lip, sometimes leaving a mark. Especially when he’s typing a message and deleting it, or passing by a place you used to hang out.

It’s so obvious the guys pick up on it immediately.

“You’re doing the lip thing again. Missing Y/N?”

He rolls his eyes but never denies it.

---

Sending you random gifts anonymously

Chan has this habit of sending you little things when he misses you — but he won’t say it’s from him.

A bouquet at your office, your favorite snack left at your door, a tiny plush keychain… he’ll have staff or a delivery service drop it off without a name attached.

But you always know.

Because only he would pick something that perfect.

And when you mention it over the phone “I got a weird little surprise today”, he feigns surprise:

“Really? Must be someone who likes you a lot…”

---

Talking to you in his head

As cheesy as it sounds, he does this.

When he’s too busy, too far, or too shy to text you first, he has full-blown conversations with you in his head.

Imagining what you’d say to his jokes, how you’d react to his rants.

Sometimes he even chuckles to himself.

“You’d laugh at this, wouldn’t you?”

It’s his little way of keeping you close.

---

Lee Know — Habits he has when he misses you

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Staring at your pictures on his phone

Minho isn’t glued to his phone 24/7, but when he misses you, he opens his gallery and scrolls through your photos together.

Even though he’s seen them a thousand times, he always finds some new detail — the way you smile, how you hold his hand, the sunset in the background.

He stares at the screen in silence with a small, bittersweet grin.

“Tsk… look at this silly face…”

And keeps staring anyway.

---

Watching cat videos to distract himself

To trick his brain, Lee Know has this habit of watching random cat TikToks when he misses you.

It’s his way of pretending he’s not thinking about you.

But deep down, he wishes you were next to him, watching those videos together.

Sometimes, he saves the best ones to send you later.

“Y/N’s gonna love this one.”

---

Playing with the rings or bracelets you gave him

Minho’s surprisingly sentimental, though he’ll never admit it.

When he misses you, he starts fiddling with the rings or bracelets you gave him — spinning them on his finger or tracing them with his thumb.

It’s unconscious.

If someone asks, he’ll dodge the question, but his eyes give him away.

---

Getting quieter than usual

Normally playful and sarcastic, Lee Know turns silent when he misses you.

His replies get short, jokes disappear, and he keeps to himself.

Only those closest to him notice it — Chan and Hyunjin clock it immediately.

“Dude, just text Y/N before you get unbearable.”

---

Practicing choreography until exhaustion

He throws himself into dancing.

When the ache gets too strong, Minho heads to the studio and practices until his body can’t anymore.

It’s his way of releasing tension and trying not to overthink.

He can spend all night there.

“If I get tired enough, I’ll fall asleep without missing her.”

(But it never works.)

---

Keeping unsent messages

His phone’s notes app is full of things he wishes he could tell you.

Photos he saw and thought of you, a quick “I miss you,” random thoughts — but his pride (and fear of being clingy) stop him from hitting send.

They just sit there, waiting.

---

Imagining conversations with you

When he misses you, Minho starts having conversations with you in his head.

He imagines your reactions, the things you’d say if he told you something dumb he did, or you scolding him for acting reckless.

Sometimes, it even makes him laugh.

“Y/N would kill me for this.”

---

Staring at places you used to go together

If he passes by a café or street you both used to visit, he stops and stares for a while, replaying the memories in his head.

If no one’s around, he might even go inside to feel closer to you again.

---

Staying up too late

Minho hates sleeping without saying goodnight to you.

When he misses you, he stays up scrolling aimlessly, hoping you’ll come online or message him first.

And when you finally do, his mood flips instantly.

“Took you long enough…”

(But he’s smiling like an idiot.)

---

Saving food for you

Even when you’re not around, he subconsciously saves part of his snack or the best bite of his meal for you.

It’s automatic.

Later, he realizes what he’s done and gets annoyed at himself for being so soft.

“Tsk… ridiculous.”

But still doesn’t throw it away.

Changbin — Habits he has when he misses you

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Recording voice notes just to hear himself saying your name

Changbin misses you in this intense, restless way sometimes.

He records little voice notes saying your name or your pet names — just to listen to them later.

He never sends them, though. Keeps them saved.

Listens to them before bed or on the way to practice.

“Hey, Y/N… miss you, damn it.”

Then laughs at himself for being so cheesy — but never deletes them.

---

Sleeping hugging your-scented pillow

He’d never admit it, but there’s a pillow that still smells like you from the last time you stayed over.

When he misses you, he hugs it like it’s you.

Face buried in it, grumbling at how soft he’s being.

“Pathetic, Changbin… but it feels good.”

---

Writing rap lyrics about you

His favorite way to vent is writing.

And when he misses you, all his lyrics end up being about you — about the ache, the words he can’t say out loud, the emptiness without you.

He writes them secretly in his notes or the studio.

Never shows them to anyone. Not even Chan.

---

Stress-eating junk food

Changbin loves snacks, but when he misses you, he goes all out.

Devours everything in the dorm, orders midnight food deliveries, drinks soda when he’s supposed to be cutting down.

“Y/N would scold the hell outta me if they saw this.”

And still eats it anyway.

---

Getting moody and extra sensitive

He turns into a grumpy, clingy bear disguised as an annoyed grump.

Gets mad easily, hates being teased, snaps back, and any joke about you makes him shut down.

Just hearing your name makes his chest tighten.

“Stop talking about Y/N already…”

Though secretly hoping you’ll show up out of nowhere.

---

Listening to your shared playlists

Changbin saves every song you both liked or listened to together.

When he misses you, he pops in his earbuds and listens to them on repeat.

Sometimes, one special song gets stuck on loop.

He lies in bed, singing softly to himself, thinking about you.

---

Sending memes just to start a conversation

When he’s missing you but too shy to say it outright, he sends you memes, dumb stickers or TikToks just to get your attention.

If you take too long to reply, he sends another. And another.

“Look at this. It’s so you.”

Just to get a “you idiot” back from you.

---

Stalking your old Instagram posts

Changbin shamelessly scrolls through your Instagram.

Rewatches your old posts, reads the comments, smiles to himself, and regrets not liking more of your selfies before.

Sometimes he even comments on old pics to see if you’ll notice.

---

Locking himself in the studio

When the missing gets too heavy, he hides in the studio.

Dims the lights, plays a random beat and either writes or sits scrolling through his phone, hoping you’ll message.

Nobody can drag him out when he’s like that.

---

Imagining you two living together

Yeah — Changbin’s a lowkey hopeless romantic.

When he misses you, he starts imagining you living together — waiting for him at home, watching movies, sharing snacks, falling asleep in each other’s arms.

Sometimes he even writes about it.

“Pathetic, but it’d be perfect.”

Hyunjin — Habits He Has When He Misses You

---

Playing with the bracelet or ring you gave him

Hyunjin is super sentimental when it comes to meaningful things. If you gave him a bracelet, ring, or necklace, it’s sacred.

Every time he misses you, he plays with it, spins it on his finger, traces its details, and stares at it.

If someone notices and asks, he just says:

“Nothing… just thinking.”

But inside, he’s drowning in missing you.

---

Drawing your face or things that remind him of you

When he misses you, Hyunjin locks himself in his room or art studio and starts sketching.

It could be your sleeping face, your smile, your profile, or something that reminds him of you — a flower, a star, or a little note that says “come back soon.”

His sketchbook has pages you have no idea about.

And he never throws them away.

---

Writing letters he never sends

Hyunjin has this habit of writing letters as if he were talking to you.

He vents about his day, talks about missing you, describes the things he wishes he could be doing with you, and finishes with lines like:

“If you were here now, everything would be better.”

He keeps these letters in a small wooden box in his closet.

---

Spraying your perfume on his pillow before sleeping

On days when missing you hurts too much, Hyunjin sprays your perfume on his pillow or bed sheets.

He lies down, closes his eyes, and imagines it’s you.

He whispers your name softly and smiles, but sometimes he tears up.

“Just a little longer… just until I fall asleep.”

---

Creating playlists full of sad love songs

Hyunjin is the king of themed playlists.

He has one just for songs about missing someone, long-distance love, and aching for a hug.

When he misses you, he plays that list, lies on his bed or the floor, stares at the ceiling, and lets the music speak for him.

Each song reminds him of a specific moment with you.

---

Stalking your social media and accidentally liking old posts

He’s constantly checking your Instagram, Twitter, and TikTok.

He watches your stories over and over, replays your reels where you smile, and even reads the comments under your photos.

Sometimes he accidentally likes an old post, panics, and unlikes it right away — but it’s too late.

“Shit… now she’s gonna think I’m desperate.”

(He totally is.)

---

Talking about you nonstop to the members

Hyunjin can’t hide it when he misses you.

He keeps telling stories, remembering silly things you two did, and randomly says stuff like:

“Ah, Y/N loved this food.”

“This reminds me of her.”

“She would’ve done this better.”

The members just roll their eyes and smile knowingly.

---

Typing messages and deleting them before sending

He writes huge declarations at night, long texts about how much he misses you, how he dreamt about you, and how he just wants to hear your voice.

But in the end, he always deletes everything.

“What for? She’s probably busy… never mind.”

And does this almost every night.

---

Wearing your clothes you left at his place

If you ever left a hoodie, T-shirt, or anything at his place, Hyunjin wears it.

He buries himself in it like a hug.

It’s where he feels safe and a little closer to you.

“Ridiculous, but comforting.”

If someone knocks on his door, he throws it across the room to avoid teasing.

---

Sending Dwaekki videos to you

He knows Dwaekki makes you laugh, so when missing you gets too heavy, he records a video of his plushie and sends it, pretending it’s Dwaekki messaging you.

“Hi Y/N, come back soon, Hyunjin’s insufferable with longing.”

Then hides from embarrassment.

---

Spacing out during rehearsals

During practice, he often zones out when he’s missing you.

He forgets steps, misses his marks, and takes too long to respond.

He’ll just stand there staring into space, imagining you smiling or lying on his lap.

If someone calls him out, he blames it on exhaustion.

---

Listening to your old voice notes and videos

He has a hidden folder on his phone full of your voice notes, videos, and selfies.

When he misses you, he opens it, plays your good night audios, your silly laughs, and those times you called him “my prince.”

Sometimes he falls asleep holding his phone, listening to your voice.

---

Talking to himself in the mirror

Yes, he talks to his reflection.

He rehearses things he wishes he could say to you, like:

“Why aren’t you here?”

“I miss you so much, Y/N.”

“You should’ve seen how beautiful the sky looked today…”

Then he laughs at himself and gets sad all over again.

---

Dreaming about you and waking up even lonelier

When he finally sleeps, he usually dreams of you.

In those dreams, you’re holding hands, traveling, laughing, sharing desserts, or just lying down talking.

He wakes up with his chest heavy and missing you even more.

“I wish I could’ve stayed dreaming.”

---

Texting the members for advice

When it gets too bad, he texts Chan, Han, or Felix asking what he should do.

Should he call you, wait, or just send a meme?

Most of the time, he decides to stay quiet.

“I don’t know… I’ll just draw.”

---

Keeping every tiny thing you gave him

If you gave him a doodle, a flower, a movie ticket, a candy wrapper, anything — he keeps it.

He has a box full of those little things, and when he misses you, he opens it and goes through everything just to feel close again.

---

Practicing choreo wondering if you’d like it

Every time there’s a new song, he imagines if you’d like the choreography, which part you’d find coolest or hottest.

Sometimes he practices harder just thinking it might impress you.

---

Saving places he wants to take you

Whenever he sees a cute café, an art exhibit, or a new restaurant, he saves it on his phone.

“Take Y/N here.”

The list already has over 20 places.

Han Jisung — His Habits When He Misses You

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Eating junk food like the world’s ending

Han deals with missing you by eating literally everything he finds.

Snacks, cookies, chocolate, ice cream — you name it.

The other members always notice it right away:

“Missing Y/N again, huh?”

And he just pouts and keeps chewing.

---

Writing songs about you and hiding them

Jisung loves writing songs, you know that.

But when he misses you, he secretly writes lyrics about you — some are cute, wishing you were there, and others are sad, about feeling lonely or frustrated.

Then he never has the guts to show them to you.

They’re all saved in a secret folder on his laptop.

“Maybe one day… or not.”

---

Staring at his phone waiting for your message

He opens and closes your chat over and over, checks if you’re online, if you posted something, if you liked a post.

Sometimes he even types:

“Miss u”

And deletes it.

Every 5 minutes.

---

Watching all your silly videos together

He has a gallery full of dumb videos you two made: dubbing memes, dancing badly, laughing at stupid things.

When he misses you, he watches them and laughs alone.

And keeps saying:

“You idiot, why do I like you this much?”

---

Talking about you non-stop

Jisung can’t hide it.

Whenever he misses you, literally every topic turns into an excuse to mention you:

“Y/N would’ve done it better.”

“She loves this drama.”

“This reminds me of that one time with her.”

And the guys just look at him like:

“Dude, just confess already.”

---

Setting your photo as his wallpaper (and changing it back out of embarrassment)

Every time the missing gets too strong, he sets your photo as his lockscreen.

But then he gets embarrassed someone might see it and changes it to a meme.

“Okay… no one saw, I’m fine.”

Then switches back to your pic at night.

---

Talking to the stuffed animal you gave him

You gave him a little stuffed animal, and when he misses you, he actually talks to it.

“She won’t text me back… think she’s busy? I’m being dumb, huh?”

Then hugs it to sleep.

---

Telling bad jokes to distract himself

When he’s missing you, he keeps making terrible jokes to try and laugh and distract himself.

No one finds them funny.

He ends up laughing alone, thinking of you.

“At least Y/N would laugh, for sure.”

---

Sleeping with your hoodie

If you ever left a hoodie or shirt with him — forget it, it’s sacred now.

He sleeps hugging it, burying his face in it just to feel your scent, and only then he manages to fall asleep.

“I’m becoming a freak… but whatever.”

---

Gaming until his hands hurt

When he misses you too much, he sits in front of the computer and plays nonstop.

FPS, LOL, whatever.

Until his fingers go numb.

It’s the only way to stop thinking about you for a while.

Felix — His Habits When He Misses You

---

Recording cute voice notes for you but never sending them

Felix always records little voice notes when he misses you.

Saying he misses you, telling you about his day, or just calling your name in that soft, deep voice.

Then he listens to it, gets shy and never sends it.

He keeps them saved like little love letters you’ll never hear.

“Aigoo… this is so embarrassing…”

---

Baking cookies or cakes thinking about you

Whenever he’s missing you too much, he goes to the kitchen.

Makes cookies, cupcakes, or any sweet thing he knows you love.

Sometimes he calls the members to eat together, but always keeps one especially for you in the fridge.

“This one’s for Y/N… don’t touch it, Changbin!”

---

Hugging his pillow and pretending it’s you

Felix has a hard time sleeping when he misses you badly.

So he hugs his pillow tight, buries his face in it, and runs his hand over it like he’s stroking your hair.

Sometimes he even whispers:

“Good night, baby.”

---

Staring at your pictures and videos until he knows them by heart

He spends hours going through your selfies, videos, and old clips you two made together.

Laughing alone, commenting to himself:

“You’re literally the most beautiful person in the world, you know?”

And keeps repeating it like you could hear him.

---

Sending you random heart or teddy bear emojis

Felix hates disturbing you when you’re busy but misses you just the same.

So he sends a single heart or teddy bear emoji, hoping you’ll get the hint and message him first.

And if you reply — he melts.

“Aaaa she texted back! 😭💖”

---

Getting unusually quiet and thoughtful

Felix is always so bright and bubbly, so when he suddenly gets quiet, everyone notices.

He’ll sit somewhere alone, fiddling with his rings or necklace, just waiting for a notification from you.

“Missing her like crazy, hyung…”

(To the other members)

---

Writing little notes for you

He loves to write tiny notes saying:

“I miss you.”

“Thought of you today.”

“Come back soon.”

Then keeps them in a box or in his jacket pocket.

Sometimes when you meet, he shyly hands you one without a word.

---

Staring at your shared playlist

Felix made a playlist with you, and when the missing gets too strong, he puts it on repeat.

Sings along, closes his eyes, and pretends you’re there next to him.

And when your favorite song plays — instant emotional meltdown.

---

Wearing the bracelet or ring you gave him

If you gave him a matching accessory, he wears it all the time.

Sometimes kisses the bracelet or fiddles with the ring while thinking about you.

And if anyone notices, he’ll just smile shyly.

“It reminds me of her…”

---

Writing your name on his hand

When the longing gets too painful, Felix writes your name or nickname on his palm.

Then keeps looking at it throughout the day, like it’ll make him feel closer to you.

“Okay… I feel a little better now.”

---

Seungmin — His Habits When He Misses You

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Listening to your old voice messages

Seungmin isn’t the type to openly admit he misses you, but he feels it — hard.

He keeps every voice message you’ve sent, and when he misses you, he plugs in his earphones and listens to them over and over.

Especially the ones where you laugh or call his name sweetly.

“That laugh… damn, I miss it.”

---

Dropping hints on Instagram stories or in the members' comments

Seungmin is a little menace sometimes.

When he misses you, he posts a sad love song or a quote on his story, or comments under other members’ photos things like:

“Would be better if she was here.”

Just to get your attention and make you message him.

---

Wearing your hoodie or shirt that still smells like you

If you ever left a hoodie at his place, or if he stole one (which he definitely did), Seungmin wears it when the missing gets unbearable.

Lies in bed hugging it, closing his eyes and taking deep breaths to feel your scent.

“Just for a little while.”

---

Rewatching dumb videos you made together

He secretly has a folder on his phone just for videos of you two.

Clips of you complaining, making faces, teasing him, or telling him you love him.

When he misses you, he replays them, laughs by himself and feels that bittersweet ache.

---

Typing huge messages then deleting them

Seungmin will type long paragraphs about how much he misses you, how important you are to him…

Then stare at the screen, sigh, and delete everything.

Leaving the chat open, hoping you’ll text first.

“Pathetic… whatever.”

---

Watching the dramas or animes you used to binge together

When the loneliness hits, he puts on one of the shows you both watched.

Acts like it’s no big deal, but ends up laughing at scenes you loved or hated.

“She’d totally freak out here.”

---

Gaming until late just to distract himself

Seungmin buries himself in games to stop thinking about how much he misses you.

But every time he wins a match or pulls off an insane play, he turns like you’d be there to cheer him on.

“If Y/N was here… tsk.”

---

Sending pictures of his dog with captions meant for you

He’ll send a cute pic of his dog in the group chat or directly to you with something like:

“I think he misses you.”

But it’s him, obviously.

---

Falling asleep listening to your voice or leaving a silent call open

On bad days, Seungmin plays one of your old voice notes on loop while falling asleep.

Or stays in a call with you on mute or even after you’ve hung up — just to have your name on his screen a little longer.

---

Staring at your chat, waiting for a message

He keeps his phone in his hand, opens and closes your chat, types random letters and deletes them.

Sighs, rolls his eyes, and mumbles to himself:

“Could’ve just messaged me already…”

Jeongin (I.N) — His Habits When He Misses You

---

Constantly checking his phone just to see if you’re online

Jeongin is the type who won’t admit he misses you out loud, but his phone gives him away.

He keeps opening Instagram, checking your stories, seeing if you liked something, and when the longing hits harder, he opens your chat just to check if your online status is on.

Sometimes he even types “hey”, deletes it… types “miss you”, deletes it again.

Sighs. Puts his phone on his chest.

“Aish… idiot, hurry up and get online.”

---

Hugging his pillow and talking to it like it’s you

Jeongin has this habit of talking to objects when he misses someone.

Whether it’s his pillow, a plushie you gave him, or his blanket — he’ll lie down hugging it and start complaining as if you’re right there.

“You left me alone here, huh? Having fun without me, aren’t you? Tsk, wait ‘til we see each other again.”

And when he realizes what he’s doing, he laughs, hides his face in the pillow and mumbles.

---

Sending dumb memes just to start a conversation

He saves every ridiculous meme he finds online just to send you later.

And he loves sending them in the middle of the night, knowing you’ll either wake up laughing or cursing him out.

“If you don’t laugh at this, don’t talk to me anymore.”

When you answer, he acts like he wasn’t even missing you, just wanted to see if you’re still your grumpy self.

---

Eating your favorite snack and complaining to himself

Whenever he misses you, he runs to the convenience store and buys that snack or candy you two always shared.

He sits on the couch, turns on any random TV show, and eats slowly.

Sometimes he holds onto the last piece and teases:

“You’d want this one, wouldn’t you? Too bad, it’s mine.”

And eats it just to annoy you, even if you’re not there.

---

Remembering inside jokes and laughing by himself in front of the others

He just can’t help it.

If he’s hanging out with the members and someone says a word or a situation pops up that reminds him of a private joke you two have, Jeongin starts laughing alone.

The hyungs look at him, and he shakes his head:

“Nothing, just remembered something.”

But in his mind, the exact ridiculous scene is playing, the one only you two would laugh about.

---

Sleeping while hugging his phone

When the longing really hits, he lies in bed, puts your last selfie as his wallpaper, and falls asleep hugging his phone.

Now and then, he unlocks it just to look at your picture and murmurs:

“I miss you, you know that?”

Sometimes he even records a voice note, but never sends it.

---

Talking about you to the hyungs without realizing it

Jeongin doesn’t realize how often he talks about you until someone points it out.

Out of nowhere, in the middle of a conversation:

“Ah, Y/N likes this too.”

“Y/N would do better.”

“Y/N would totally roast this.”

Until Changbin or Seungmin nudges him:

“Dude, just confess already or shut up.”

He turns red and quickly changes the subject.

---

Wearing the perfume you love on him to feel closer

There’s a specific perfume he knows you’re obsessed with.

When he misses you, Jeongin sprays it on himself, even leans in to sniff and says out loud:

“If she smelled this now, she’d melt.”

Even if no one’s in the room.

---

Singing your songs everywhere — in the shower, his room, the studio

Being the vocal prince that he is, when he misses you, Jeongin hums or sings the songs that remind him of you.

In the shower, while cooking, during practice, or even mid-rehearsal.

And if someone notices, he brushes it off:

“It’s stuck in my head, what can I do?”

---

Texting something provocative just to make you reply, then disappearing

He truly feels the ache when he sends:

“Bet you forgot about me, huh? Miss you, brat.”

And then vanishes, just to leave you annoyed or curious.

He waits for your reply, grins at the screen, but purposely takes his sweet time to text back.

Just to keep the little teasing game alive — because he loves the feeling of having you thinking about him.

---

The end

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