#would’ve finished it sooner if i didn’t have to put my pen down and scream every few minutes | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

1oserjk · 5 years ago

Text

— full stop | 03

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a series.

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

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02 ⇋ 04

x full stop masterlist | x masterlist

shit is 16k .. sry

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full stop | 03: unhappy birthday

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

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

You choke.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hyejin.” You glare.

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

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

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

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

Her eyes narrow.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Please.”

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

“Hyejin!”

“—then I’ll let you know.”

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

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

“Love you.”

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

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

“Of course.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Be safe on the way home,” you order.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

She nods. “I am!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

You hum, “Is that so?”

She nods dramatically.

“So what would you want this year?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Of course!”

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

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

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

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

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

“O-Okay, but-“

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Then, I’ll drive you back.”

“Jungkook, no, it’s okay-“

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

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

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

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

You rush to the side of Jungkook when they disappear.

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

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

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

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

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

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

He still had it.

For a second, you smile back at it.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Jungkook shuts his eyes before tiredly letting out a sigh.

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

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

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

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

You nod.

“What about yours?” He suggests.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Really?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

That was until you spoke up again.

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

His fingers unknowingly grip on the steering wheel.

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

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

They keep clinging to the wheel.

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

“You had every right to be.”

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

“Yeah,” he agrees quietly.

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

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

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

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

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

“Oh.”

“Yeah,” is all he says.

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

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

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

She nods.

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

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

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

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

She complies easily, shuffling towards the cushioned chair.

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

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

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

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

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

She only nods.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Presents?” Yeona brightens.

“No,” You and Jungkook rush.

“Mommy meant something else..”

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

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

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

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

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

“You’re both matching.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Jungkook notices.

“You okay?” He asks.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You finally sleep.

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

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

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

He’s still confused.

“Seol?” You finally spit out.

“Oh.”

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

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

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

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

“Oh—okay.” You wonder why.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And she definitely was.

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

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

“Careful,” Jungkook calls from next to you.

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

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

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

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

“Starting to feel better?” He murmurs softly.

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

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

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

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

“She worries about you.”

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

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

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

“Uh, hi Mom. Where’s Yeona?”

“With your father.”

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

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

“Headache,” you finish and state for him.

“Yeah.”

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

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

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

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

You groan. “And I still am.”

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

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

She gasps.

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

“Jeon Jungkook,” his mother scowls.

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

“You told her?”

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

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

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

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

“Yeona, where have you been?”

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

You chuckle. “Is that so?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He exhales and nods. “Right. I will.”

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

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

“That’s good.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Oh no.”

“Yeah.”

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

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

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

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

“You aren’t going to stay and eat?”

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeah, sorry mom.”

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

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

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

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

“Mom!”

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

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

Her son groans. “Just use your phone.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“And how much in total?”

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

“Mom.”

You shush him. “Leave her alone.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You really do look pretty today, _____.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Do you need a tissue?”

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

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

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

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

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

“Daddy,” Yeona taps. “Want off.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

At least, to her eyes you were.

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

Nothing more, nothing less.

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

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

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

“That was—” Jungkook starts.

“—Definitely new,” you finish.

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

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

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

“Besides, I don’t really mind.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What are you doing?”

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

“_____..”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Holy shit,” you gape. “It’s huge.”

“They’re loaded.”

“I-I can’t go in this, Jungkook.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

A brow arches. “When are we not?”

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

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

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

His head tilts in reason, “Fair.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Does that mean you and—“

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

“.. Right.”

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

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

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

It’s nighttime now.

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

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

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

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

He pouts. “Why?”

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

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

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

“But then Kiumin..”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“J-Jungkook!”

Childish. Absolutely childish.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Holy shit.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Running away?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You accidentally collide against something. Hard and wide.

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

“Shit, are you okay?”

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

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

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

“O-Of course I am.”

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

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

“Hi, baby.”

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

“U-Uh..”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What now?”

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

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

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

“I don’t care,” you deadpan.

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

“Ouch.”

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

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

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

“Thanks, Hyejin,” you whisper.

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

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

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

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

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

All is forgotten, smile setting on your lips.

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

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

You giggle. “Are you having fun?”

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

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

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

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

He nods. “T-That’s good.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I-It was Yeonie’s idea!”

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

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

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

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

“Jungkook—!”

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

“Sweetheart, no! Listen to me-“

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

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

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

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

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

Her eyes crease and she giggles loudly.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You observe him as he answers. “Hello?”

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

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

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

“I—I miss you too.”

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

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

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

You finally pull away from him completely.

“_____.”

You give a curt smile. “Yeah?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He understood exactly why.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

She mumbles incoherently.

“Come on,” he nudges, “Up.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Luckily, he dodges it.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“_____..”

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

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

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

He’s still dancing and smiling.

“He’s not my husband anymore.”

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

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

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

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

Jungkook follows suit.

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

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

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

“Oh,” Kiumin nods. “She’s awesome.”

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

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

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

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

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

Hyejin bursts in laughter, everybody following right behind.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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reinerispretty · 4 years ago

Text

reminiscence. (? x reader) pt3

hello and thank u so much for all of ur kind words on the last two chapters!! i hope you guys enjoy this one :)

pt1

pt2

pt4

“Speak for yourself, Bolin,” grumbled Hasook, the only waterbender they could find to join their team. “You being distracted practically cost us the game.”

“It was only a few seconds,” Mako snapped, readily coming to his brother’s defense.

“That’s all it takes to lose.” Hasook walked angrily out of the locker room. When he was gone, (Y/N’s) bright eyes peered around the door frame.

“I hope I’m not interrupting,”

A smile curled onto (Y/N’s) lips.

“Nice to meet you, Bolin,” She said, and Bolin felt his heart skip a beat. He liked the way her voice said his name.

“If you don’t mind me asking, what were you doing walking by yourself at night?”

“I had just gotten off of work,” (Y/N) said with a sigh. “I got stuck with the late shift, so no one could leave until everything was absolutely spotless. And like, right as we were almost done for the night, someone spills a bottle of oil all over the floor! Waterbenders can’t pick that up!” She frowned. “Sorry, I’m just ranting to you at this point.”

“Rant away!” Bolin said, his face excited. “Where do you work?”

“I’m a waitress at Kwong’s Cuisine.”

“Woah,” Bolin gapsed. “No wonder you were so bummed out about losing your food! That place is amazing. I mean, I imagine it’s amazing. The only thing I’ve had from there were leftovers from the garbage.” When (Y/N) furrowed her brows, Bolin started panicking. “I don’t eat from the garbage all the time! My brother and I used to when we were living on the streets.”

“Oh,” (Y/N) said, her expression turning sad. She reached forward and placed her hand atop Bolin’s. “I’m so sorry. That must’ve been so awful.”

“It wasn’t too bad!” Bolin, cheerful as ever, gave her a smile. “I had Mako, which was nice, but sometimes we could find really great things in the garbage. Once, I found a whole pie, just sitting on top of trash cans! Didn’t look dirty or anything! It was delicious. Sometimes I still think about trash pie.”

(Y/N) laughed and Bolin reveled in the sound. “What about you?” She asked. “Why were you on the streets?”

“Mako and I got into a little argument about money again. It’s fine though, because we’re gonna make our own pro-bending team and rake in all the cash!” An idea popped into his head and he leaned forward excitedly, their faces just inches apart. “Say, you wouldn’t happen to be a waterbender, would you?”

“Unfortunately, no,” (Y/N) said and Bolin deflated back into his seat. “I don’t bend anything. My family’s full of benders but me? I am bendless.”

“Hey, that’s okay!” Bolin assured her. “I know really great people who aren’t benders!”

“I’m not very sad about it,” She said, playing with the straw that was in her drink. “But I do get just a teensy bit jealous. Like, when I’m watching probending and the teams do all these cool moves!”

“You wanna talk about cool moves? You should see Mako and I! He’s a firebender, I’m an earthbender. We’re like a dynamic duo. Our first match is in two weeks from today, if you wanted to come!”

“You have a match but you don’t have a waterbender?” Bolin waved his hand in the air dismissively.

“We’ll find someone, I’m sure! Say you’ll be there?” He asked, his green eyes bright and hopeful.

“I’ll try my best!” (Y/N) said, and Bolin could tell she really meant it. “It’s just, you know, work.”

At that moment, their soup dumplings arrived. This both excited and disappointed Bolin. Excited because he was starving and disappointed because he knew once they were finished eating, he and (Y/N) would go their separate ways.

After stuffing themselves full of soup dumplings, Bolin and (Y/N) practically waddled out of the restaurant. The streets of Republic City were nearly bare. “How about I walk you home?” Bolin offered. (Y/N) nodded, a blush gracing her cheeks.

They walked side by side and talked about anything and everything. He found out that her mom owned Kwong’s Cuisine and expected (Y/N) to take it over once she was old enough, but (Y/N) wasn’t sure if she wanted to do that yet. She loved animals and preferred to be cold rather than hot, because when she’s cold she can just bundle up. Despite working for her mom, she lived on her own, since her mom didn’t have that much time to be around anyway.

Bolin told her about how his parents died and what it was like living on the streets for so many years. He told her of the gangs that they had done work for and she looked at him with complete understanding and a lack of judgement. He told her about his best friend, Pabu, and how much he wished he had brought Pabu with him because he knew he would’ve made her so happy.

By the time they had reached her doorstep, Bolin was feeling very sad. The odds of him ever seeing this girl again were slim to none and that was the last thing that he wanted.

“Do you have a piece of paper and a pen?” He asked suddenly. (Y/N) nodded, stepping inside for a moment before returning with his supplies. He tore off a small piece of paper and balanced it on his knee, scratching his address onto the lines. “This is where you can find me.” She took it gingerly from his hands and looked at it. When she looked back up at him, she smiled.

“Thank you,” She said, her voice soft. “I’ll definitely track you down. I have to repay you for the soup dumplings.” Bolin grinned.

“I’ll be looking forward to it.” He walked down her front steps and nearly tripped. He turned around again to see her laughing at him. He smiled once more and gave her a small salute before walking off into the night.

Bolin didn’t see (Y/N) at his next pro-bending match, or at the three matches after it. Each time he would look up into the crowd, past the bright lights and thousands of fans and search for the face that had been in his dreams for weeks now. Every night, he was disappointed. He’d put on his helmet and step onto the platform, ready to take his frustrations out on the opposing team.

He had told Mako about the girl he had eaten soup dumplings with. Mako hadn’t really taken him seriously; Bolin always got distracted by girls for a few days and then found himself enamored by another one soon enough. But this one seemed to be sticking. Mako sort of hoped she’d turn up just so Bolin would stop talking about her.

And then one night, she did. Bolin’s eyes scanned the crowd, just as they always did, and surprisingly they came to rest on (Y/N’s) face. She sat higher up, in the cheaper seats, but her presence was undeniable. Her smile seemed to beam down on him as she turned to her friend and pointed at the platform.

“She’s here!” He turned to Mako, jumping on his feet. “She really came!”

“Finally,” Mako grumbled, and the match started. Bolin didn’t seem to notice, his eyes trained on (Y/N) for the first few seconds of the game. This gave the opposing team the opening to hit him with earthbending discs, knocking him back into the second zone.

Bolin groaned and jumped to his feet. Mako turned to him as he firebended, his golden eyes furious. “Either you get your act together or I’ll knock you off the platform myself!”

Bolin nodded, holding his fists toward his face as he shot discs at the opposing team. He dodged their attempts at knocking him off his feet. If this was (Y/N’s) first match seeing him, then she’d see him at his best.

The Fire Ferrets didn’t win the match, but they played a good game. The team was freshly made and it would take them a while to get in tune with each other. Bolin remained optimistic that they’d win the next one, and he expressed this to his team as they went back to their locker rooms.

“Speak for yourself, Bolin,” grumbled Hasook, the only waterbender they could find to join their team. “You being distracted practically cost us the game.”

“It was only a few seconds,” Mako snapped, readily coming to his brother’s defense.

“That’s all it takes to lose.” Hasook walked angrily out of the locker room. When he was gone, (Y/N’s) bright eyes peered around the door frame.

“I hope I’m not interrupting,” She said, and Bolin couldn’t stop the grin that rose to his face when he heard her voice. “I told someone that I knew Bolin and then they told me to come here?”

“They’re used to Bolin’s routine of bringing back screaming fangirls,” Mako said, and Bolin gave him a harsh shove.

“Former routine,” He grumbled, before walking over to (Y/N). He wasn’t sure if he should hug her or hold her hands or kiss her. The last option would probably be too much for the moment. “I’m so happy to see you.”

“I’m sorry I couldn’t come sooner,” She said, an apologetic smile gracing her features. “I got scheduled for every night a pro-bending match was on. I had to ask someone to cover for me just to come here.”

“Oh no! I’m sorry you had to take off work.” (Y/N) shrugged.

“It was definitely worth it. You guys played an amazing game.” (Y/N) stepped further into the room, directing her attention toward Mako. “I’m (Y/N), by the way. Bolin kinda saved my butt a few weeks back.”

“I’m Mako,” He said. “And I know. He hasn’t stopped talking about it since then.” Bolin’s face flushed a bright pink, but (Y/N) just laughed.

“Can I treat you both to soup dumplings? I have to pay Bolin back for mine anyway.”

“Dumplings sound fantastic!” Bolin grinned. “Right Mako?”

“I won’t say no to free food.”

---

(Y/N’s) stomach rumbled loudly.

She sat atop Naga, her arms wrapped around Korra’s middle. The polar bear dog trotted through Republic City as Korra took her to one of her favorite spots: a little meat stand on the side of the street. “This place is amazing,” Korra called back to her. “I find the stands to be way better than actual restaurants.”

(Y/N) wasn’t quite sure if she could relate, but she was willing to try. They pulled Naga up to the stand to order their food. “You again,” The woman running the stand grumbled. “You actually have money this time?”

“Yes,” Korra said, sticking her tongue out at the woman. “We’ll have two of everything.”

“Two of everything?” (Y/N) echoed in disbelief. “Korra, I-”

“Relax,” She said as the woman put together their orders. “You and I will share and the rest is for Naga. She needs to eat lunch, too.” Korra rubbed Naga in between her ears.

Once they had been given their food, Korra took (Y/N) to the park, where they ate on the riverbank. It was less cold than it was yesterday but (Y/N’s) Air Acolyte clothes helped keep her warm. She received many weird looks as people walked past them.

“Do I have something on my face?” She asked. “Why does everyone keep looking at me?”

“Oh,” Korra said, her mouth full of kabob. “Air Acolytes don’t usually leave Air Temple Island. And they don’t eat meat.” (Y/N) gulped.

“I feel like I’m being blasphemous,” And while she wasn’t really joking, she made Korra laugh anyway. “Thanks for getting all of this food, by the way. I’ll find some way to pay you back in the future.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Korra said with a shrug. “Focus on getting your memories back.”

“I wish it were that easy. Like, if I could just shut my eyes really hard and boom! My memories would return.” She looked at Korra, her eyes dazzling with an idea. “I know Kya said you can’t tell me anything shocking, but what if...what if you told me some of the small stuff? Like when my birthday was?”

“I don’t really know things like that,” Korra admitted as she reached for a piece of food and tossed it to Naga. “I really just know about the stuff Mako has told me.”

“Right, Mako,” (Y/N) mumbled. “My biggest fan.”

“He’s just protective over Bolin, that’s all.”

“Everyone keeps talking about Bolin when it comes to me. That’s the guy that was there the other night, right? Who is he?” Korra bit her bottom lip. She knew she had said too much. “Korra, please?”

“Bolin was...your boyfriend.”

“Was my boyfriend,” (Y/N) repeated. “As in past tense?”

“Past tense is a pretty big part of it.” (Y/N) nodded.

“Okay. I won’t ask you any more about it, I promise. Thank you for telling me.” But when she looked back down at her food, Korra could tell that she wasn’t thankful. The only thing her explanation had offered was more confusion, and she felt incredibly guilty. Guilty over going against Kya and Tenzin’s wishes and telling (Y/N) about Bolin, and guilty over not being able to give (Y/N) the truth. She was completely lost in the world: she deserved answers.

“Maybe...maybe if we don’t tell you anything, but show you instead, we can get your memories back.”

(Y/N) raised an eyebrow. “What do you mean?”

“What if we took you to places that had a big impact on your life and just see how you react to being there?” (Y/N) nodded excitedly.

“I’ll try anything.”

“Alright. But first we have to get Mako and Bolin on board.”

---

Tag List

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#lok #legend of korra #mako x reader #asami x reader #bolin x reader #writing #fanfiction #atla

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theladysexpistol · 4 years ago

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100 follower celebration part 1!

Phantom kiss (Guido Mista x fem!reader)

Hey guys, so you’ve probably noticed by now I’ve been a bit slower than normal on the response time to your requests, and that’s because I have been working on my way to celebrate gaining 100 followers on this blog!!

Now that we’re halfway to the next milestone (insert: bree screaming. y’all are literally insane I can’t believe I’m already at 150!), I’ve finally finished the first of three “freebie” reader fics.

To no one’s surprise, the first one is Mista.

I’ve actually been working on this one very slowly, wayyy before I even started this blog. I’m glad I waited until after to finish it up, because I feel like I’ve learned so much already.

The fic’s gonna be under a cut just for length’s sake. It’s totally SFW.

Summary: Mista’s got it bad for Bucciarati’s new ward, a young woman with a Stand power that’s made her the target of exploitation by others within Passione. But if Mista loves her, that means his attention-seeking Stand does too... which can only be bad for him.

“Mista! Mista! Miiiiista!”

Frustrated by the lack of peace and quiet, Guido Mista threw down the pen in his hand and glared at the source of all the noise. The six little figures that make up his Stand had been bothering him nonstop since breakfast, apparently too hungry today to let him accomplish anything. He didn’t like to ignore his Stand, but he was in the middle of finishing a report for Bucciarati that should’ve been done... well, a long time ago. Way before Giorno joined, at least that much he was sure. He didn’t feel like getting his ass chewed out by Abbacchio today - though he was sure there’d end up being some other reason to get nagged at later - and so he was trying to get it done in a timely manner.

When he heard the door to his bedroom open, Mista gave a sigh. It could be Abbacchio or Giorno with some serious business, or Narancia just playing around trying to bug him too. What Mista hadn’t expected was to turn around and for his eyes to land on the beauty that was you.

Soft hair, wide eyes that haven’t had their innocent gleam stolen by the world just yet; slim, defined cheekbones and the slightest upturned nose. His eyes knew the curves of your body quite well, having watched you a fair number of times since you moved in to Bucciarati’s home with them. You were a genuine Italian beauty, and you unknowingly had the gunslinger entirely at your mercy.

“Sorry to bother you, Mista,” you said, and his heart pounded a bit more in his chest. Mista abandoned the report for the moment and straddled the back of his chair to watch you. “I’m just coming to get your laundry.”

“Mia bella, you work so hard for all of us,” Mista leaned his cheek on his hand as he watched you, chuckling softly when he saw your nose scrunch up just ever so slightly. He was well aware and accepted the fact by now that people thought he smelled a bit strange, and had resigned himself to being amused with the reactions. At least yours was cute.

“It’s the least I can do,” you answered as you straightened back up, looking back over toward him with a kind smile. “In return for everything you guys do for me. My Stand’s pretty useless after all...”

“Well I wouldn’t call it useless,” Mista mischievously grinned back. “Isn’t that why you’re even under our protection here in the first place? Because people want to use it for themselves?”

You shot him an unamused look, but knew he was right. Your Stand, Marina Diamonds, gave you the ability to turn anything carbon-based you touched into precious jewels and metals by rearranging the chemical structure of the object. There was little to no combat ability to your Stand, but to a gang that already utilized these strange manifestations of the spirit to a great deal in its everyday business, exploiting a young woman off the streets seemed like a no-brainer. After becoming a target for the greedy mafiosi at the top of Passione, you’d taken a risk and gone to the one group that the people of Napoli trusted for protection, though they also happened to be members of the same gang that was targeting you; Bruno Bucciarati and his team. Bucciarati had a good heart though, had taken pity on your plight and negotiated your safety; however, he’d taken you on as a protected ward in case anyone in the gang tried to go behind his back. Living with a group of gangsters certainly wasn’t the life you enjoyed before your secret ability had been found out, but you were incredibly grateful for their protection and their companionship.

“I’ll be making lunch in a bit too,” You huffed, changing the subject immediately as you walked across Mista’s room and back to the doorway. “I think everyone else left for Libeccio’s, so I’ll make something for you too.”

Mista was a bit hurt to hear he had been left behind by the rest of the team, but was very tempted by the fact that he was left alone with you in the house. He had been trying to put the moves on you for some time now, and he loved the way you got flustered under his compliments, despite that he got the feeling you didn’t take them seriously. None of the others would be around to tease him, or interrupt, or snatch your attention form him. But this damn report had to be finished; so with that he let you go. “I’ll probably have something later, thanks.”

The moment you disappeared from his bedroom however, his Stand returned as antsy as ever.

“Miiiiiista! We want something to eat now!” whined Number 6.

“We get some chow and you get to spend time with that beautiful babe!” Number 2 chimed in. “Sounds like a win-win for everyone right? Let’s go!”

“I already told you guys, I’m busy,” he groaned.

“I bet she’ll give us food without you even being there,” Number 3 mocked him.

“And lots of headpats!” Number 5 chirped, and Mista was surprised to find that not a single one, not even 3, made fun of him for that. In fact, they all seemed rather delighted at the idea.

The pestering continued, perhaps even now with a renewed vigor, and Mista had had enough. “Maybe if you six are going to keep bothering me, you should go bug her for food!”

“Didja hear that boys? Mista said so, let’s go!” Number 7 cheered. “Yeehaw!”

He watched with some relief as the flea-sized Stand hopped off his desk and floated through his open bedroom door, laughing and cheering the whole way toward the kitchen. Mista wasn’t worried; he could sense where all six of them were at all times, and if they were really that hungry they’d head straight to the kitchen without causing any trouble.

No sooner had he gone back to the report he had writing that Mista realized his grave mistake in allowing his Stand to be alone with you. Any chance at peace of mind was immediately squandered when he remembered one simple fact - if he was in love with you, the Sex Pistols were too. And those little bastards had no filter on their mouths; they would tell you. They’d tried before, but he’d been there to silence them. And he had just sent them on their own straight to where you were.

Mista stood up so fast he knocked the chair over in his haste and rushed after them.

He heard you giggling as he approached the kitchen, and the whining voices of his Stand begging for more attention over the others. Figures they would fight over you, you showered them with affection enough to make him jealous sometimes.

The smell of baked lasagne drifted toward Mista, and the rumble of his stomach in response made him regret telling you he’d put off eating til later. The image of you, sharing your heavenly cooking with those little brats who made up his Stand would have him even more jealous if he hadn’t been so worked up over leaving them alone with you.

“Now, now Number 3,” came your sweet voice, and Mista strained his ears to hear what was going on. “How many times have I told you - if you want food and pats from me, you cannot be mean to Number 5. All of you work so hard for Mista! There’s no need for such things. Come here, Number 5.”

There was enough of a silence - aside from the soft protests of the other Pistols - to drag out Mista’s curiosity and he briefly used his connection to his Stand to view, through Number 1’s eyes, what on earth was going on. That was how Mista found himself staring up at you, much larger by the Pistols’ standards, cradling Number 5 in both your hands as you raised him toward your face and puckered your lips.

Mista realized what was going on and pulled back to his own consciousness with a gasp, but that did little to change what happened. At the same time that you must have placed your lips on the little Stand, Mista’s cheek heated with the sensation of a phantom kiss. Some part of his brain shut down as he tried to process what just happened.

You had done that so casually, it couldn’t have been the first time, right? But gods above, he was sure he would’ve remembered something like that. Something like the feeling of your lips on his skin, you, the object of his affections, when he hadn’t seriously fallen for a woman since joining Bucciarati’s team.

On top of that, you had a Stand yourself! You had to know that every sensation felt by a Stand went straight back to the user, right? You had to know that kissing the Sex Pistols would be felt by him too, right?

Almost perfectly in time with Mista successfully gathering his thoughts once again, the Sex Pistols’ whining caught his attention again.

“Bella, you’re so cruel! You can’t just give kisses to Number 5!”

“If he gets kisses, we should all get kisses!”

“There’s nothing more we could want than grub and kisses from a beautiful lady!”

He heard you giggle once again in response, surprisingly genuine and bubbly despite the obnoxious pestering of his Stand.

“I can’t imagine how I’m going to explain this to Mista,” you replied sweetly. “But all right, come here, all of you. You’re just so charming, how can I resist!”

Mista cheered to himself silently. I was the first thing she thought of. If she finds them charming, then I must be downright desirable.

And then his thoughts froze, just as he felt the first touch of your lips on his Stand, and therefore by association his own face. He felt dizzy at the sensation of being peppered in kisses, and leaned back against the wall he was hiding in. He imagined your face, right in front of him, holding his chin before dipping in.

Mista held his breath. It was nearly too much for him to handle, but he didn’t want to make any noise that would give away he had been spying on them. Oh boy, he was screwed.

After a moment, the sensations stopped, and Mista released his tension all at once. He immediately strained once more to hear the conversation, and his heart leapt into his throat.

“Bella, you should kiss Mista too!” Number 6 exclaimed loudly. “He’d like it even more than we do!”

Panic overcame him. Now what could he do? He had to stop the Pistols, but if he jumped into the room right now, you would figure out he had been listening this whole time. A sense of dread washed over him as he realized that there really was no way to get out of this without his feelings for you being exposed. Surely, you knew he was attracted to you; but finding out he was in love would probably be a bit more of a shock. Mista braced himself, hoping it would be all over soon.

“Oh? I don’t know about that...” your voice was gentle and soft when you replied, not at all like it had been before. You sounded... nervous? “I mean? Mista? I can’t imagine a kiss from me being anything special.”

He almost wanted to yell “Yes! Of course it would be!” but other than that obviously giving away his hiding spot, his body seemed to freeze again.

“You should! You should!” Number 5 chirped.

“Mista is very fond of you,” That was either Number 1 or Number 7, Mista’s brain was racing so much further ahead than the rest of him that he couldn’t even recognize the voice of his own Stand.

“He’s always thinking about how he can protect you!” Number 6 exclaimed.

All of their voices began to blend together, pestering and crying as they swirled around you, while unbeknownst to you their master stood a mere few feet away on the other side of the wall. Your face flushed a deep red. Of course you had feelings for Mista. Who wouldn’t be enchanted by the handsome, boyishly charming gunslinger? And the excitement with which his Stand was teasing you, well... you couldn’t help but feel a warmth spreading in your chest at the thought that Mista could possibly feel similar.

With a small smile finding its way into your face, you exited the kitchen to the cheers of the Sex Pistols, a spiritual octopus limb extending from your arm as you rocketed yourself around the doorway and into the hallway toward his bedroom; before you smacked roughly into something built and towering over you. You knew exactly what it was though, and smiled up toward Mista.

His face was a similar shade of red to yours, and you couldn’t remember ever seeing him flustered before.

“Mia bella, my apologies,” he finally found the words as he steadied you, hands on both of your arms. “I came to look for the Pistols, and you know I actually was kinda getting hungry so I hoped I could-“

“The Sex Pistols,” you interrupted him with another smile. “Are in the kitchen. They wanted me to give you something.”

“They did?”

Without answering, you folded your hands behind your back and stood up on your toes, leaning in to plant your lips on the one spot on his face that hadn’t reacted when you kissed the Sex Pistols. When you pulled away, Mista was tongue-tied; even though your lips had pulled away from his.

“I hope you don’t mind,” another giggle escaped from you, before turning on your heel and going back toward the kitchen.

Mista, finally shaking off his shock, stood up a bit straighter as a grin found its way onto his face once again. “Well, guess I shouldn’t have been so worried after all,” he mumbled, following after you with all the intent to return the favor tenfold.

#bree writes #jojo fanfiction #100 follower celebration #thank you sm guys :)))#mista x reader #guido mista #fem reader #phantom kiss #reader has a stand #affectionate stands #i finally did it guys i finally wrote an affectionate stand piece lol #hope y'all like it #brees quest to find all the mista x readers on the internet #except i didnt find this one i wrote it

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captainelsaeverdeen · 5 years ago

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I like me better when I’m with you.

Okay so! I never considered writing on this blog, but I just had the cutest idea e v e r and I decided to do something about it. I used to write a lot but I stopped to publish anything years ago. Maybe it’s time to come back. Who knows! For now I just wanted to see if someone would like it! English is not my first language so pretty, pretty please forgive me if you find any mistakes :(

summary: based on ‘To All The Boys I Loved Before’. Y/N Henderson used to be in love a couple of times. This time she’s sure it’s something bigger, something serious. Her love for Jonathan Byers is unlimited, untamed and endless. At least she thought so. You can read Part 2 Here.

We knew that it was wrong. That he was betrothed to my best friend. But if this isn’t what he wanted then why did he come to the field of desire? It was faded, that we should meet like this. So when his lips touch my neck to put a gentle kiss on it…

“Mom asks you to wash the dishes” Dustin was standing in the doorway of your room, smiling silly. He presented his full teeth with pride, moving his eyebrows in a funny way. “It’s not my turn” you said and slowly turned over a page of book your brother interrupted you from reading. “Yours, if you’re planning on going out with Nancy and Jonathan today” he shrugged his shoulders innocently. “Excuse me?” you turned your head so fast that your neck hurt. “Says who?”

“Says me. You forced me to vacuum last week when I wanted to go to the arcade, but it was your turn. So if you don’t want to be late, you better hurry” “I hate you” you sighned putting the book down. You ran you fingers through the cover of it with two lovers, leaning towards each other just before the kiss. Dustin was still standing in the doorway.

“Do they not mind when you are going to their dates?” He asked suddenly. “They don’t call it ‘dates’ when I’m with them. They have time for each other, but we’re still friends. Just because they’re together doesn’t mean… that I’ll stop being their friend” you said. “Whatever you say. I think that’s weird. Totally weird. I wouldn’t want to take Mike or Lucas or Will if I wanted to meet my girl”. “No one asked for your opinion, you abominable little shit!” you screamed going to the kitchen, aggressively putting plates in the sink. They didn’t deserve such terrible treatment, but Dustin was right. It was weird. Weird as fuck.

After the infamous party at Tina’s last Halloween night, when Nancy broke up with Steve Harrington, and rumours about them didn’t go silent for a good month she and Jonathan became extremely close. You always spent time with them separately. When Nancy and her boyfriend wanted to be alone, you would watch movies on the couch at Joyce Byers’ house. When Jonathan promised Will to take him for a ride in the car listening to The Clash, Nancy combed your hair as Donna Summer filled her room with her songs. But after Halloween, everything changed. Nancy started sitting between you and Jonathan as you guys were watching ‘The Shining’ with a bowl of popcorn. And Jonathan knew ‘I Feel Love’ by heart, although he hated Donna Summer. Something was wrong. Something was diffrent.

By Christmas, everyone was sure that Jonathan and Nancy started dating. They spent Christmas Eve together and then announced their relationship to you together. And that’s not when your heart started beating faster when you saw him. Not when they were holding hands, not when they kissed every time before the car started from the driveway when they came to your house. Not until Nancy Wheeler took your seat on the couch at Joyce’s house. It wasn’t until then that something unimaginable, something wrong happened, something that should never have happened. You started to have, a little, small, tiny crush on your best friend.

And it wasn’t that you were jealous of Nancy. She was a great girl, smart and deserving of a wise, loving boy, which Jonathan was. But the heart is a treacherous tool. You could leave it with a cat for a month, thinking everything would be all right, and when you get back, you’d find that it threw it out the window. Because it can never be trusted. Admitting your feelings was not an option. You could lose Nancy or Jonathan. Well, Robin and Dustin would still be staying by your side, of course, but losing someone close hurts too much. Too much to be dealt with by an organ that throws the cat out the window. So smiling is okay, pretending everything’s okay is okay. As long as no one guesses and stupid feelings go away.

Not for the first time, right?

“Y/N, honey, what are you still doing here? Jonathan’s here” Mom came to the kitchen. “Ask the youngest” you rolled my eyes and kissed her on the cheek, running out of the house. Nancy pressed the alarm button a couple of times, dropping the window on the passenger side. “I don’t think you’re so excited to see Jason Voorhees for the fourth time since you’re two minutes late” she said, putting her wrist with the watch on it out the window.

“Maybe if my brother weren’t such a troublesome goddamn gremlin, you guys wouldn’t have to wait for so long” you fastened your belt and smiled at Jonathan. “Tell me about it” Nancy rolled her eyes. Her hand was clenching on Jonathan’s hands, their intertwined fingers were on his thigh. He was probably just letting her go to change gear, to grab her hand back, wanting to touch her. You smiled slightly to yourself. “I’m a little offended” you hit the back of Nancy’s chair a little bit. “You questioned my love for Jason, knowing he’s the man of my dreams. I wouldn’t miss this movie now or ever”.

“Man, you have a strange taste in men” Jonathan twisted his head.

Oh boy, if you only knew.

“Who’s gonna pick them for you when I’m out of college?” Nancy said quietly. When you were a year younger than them, you had to reckon they would be gone soon, but the thought still was terrible. You opened the window and put my hand out, feeling the cold wind on your fingers. “Robin’s doing great” you smiled. “She likes Michael Myers”.

“I’m begging you. He’s not even half as terrible as Freddie” Jonathan rolled his eyes. “Yeah, and my father is Stephen King” you snorted. Nancy smiled a little. “And Robin’s driving terribly” Jonathan got ripped off. “Whatever my life depends on it, I’d rather give my car to Carol Perkins, she can at least turn around.

“I gotta get off so you two can both stop making fun of her?” “Oh no. We don’t want Jason to get you here… on a dark road… near the woods…” Nancy wiped out and turned to you with her hands ready to attack. You hit her hands to turn around so she didn’t even think to touch or tickle you. “You can ride with me” Jonathan shrugged his arm. “I like Robin, but your life is in danger when she’s behind the wheel. I’m not going anywhere yet.”

There it was. The stomach’s fickles, the heat on your cheeks and the smile and the awful awareness of how wrong it was. How inappropriate and how unfair it was to Nancy, who sat so close to you, that she could count your moles if she turned around. But before she even thought about him, he was yours. Not exactly, of course. But when Will went missing, he didn’t turn to her for help first. He wasn’t at her door in the middle of the night, rambling about how his mom is getting crazy. He was always a lonely ship drifting in the dark sea, and you were his anchor, which drifted in time to hold him.

Well, once Jason had killed everyone he was supposed to kill, and for most of the movie, Jonathan and Nancy spent most of the time giggling and whispering to each other, after looking at their inseparably intertwined hands, it was time to go home.

It’s not that you wanted to steal your best friend’s boyfriend. You were super happy for Nancy. She deserves a great guy like Jonathan. So it was time for another letter. Fifth, if you believe your stupid heart. “How’s the movie?” Dustin asked when I walked by his room. He was only wearing one sock and reading a comic book. “Didn’t you faint from the excess corn syrup blood?”

“I’m not you” you showed him your tongue. “I didn’t forget about the dishes!” “Oh, you did! The pan is still dirty!” Dustin screamed, but I already locked the door to my room and sat at my desk, hiding my face in my hands. After a few awfully long seconds and listening to the bang of an owl outside the window, I pulled the card out of the drawer looking for a black pen.

Dear Jonathan Byers…

These letters are your biggest secret. You weren’t going to send the letter, it was just for you to understand how you were feeling. But really, you guess it was mainly about how sometimes you imagined what it would’ve been like if you’d realized how you felt about them sooner. To all of them. There are five of them: Chris from summer camp, Stanley from the homecoming, Ralph from the neighborhood who lived across the street for just three months, Steve Harrington from high school, and Jonathan.

You’ve seen Chris once in you life, for two weeks in the riverside forest. Stanley was the only one who asked you to dance, seeing you sitting alone on a bench. Ralph moved into Hawkins a few years ago, but his parents decided to go back to Florida. Steve… well, he became quite a different person when you went to high school. And Jonathan… Jonathan is still an infinite chapter. A chapter in book that’s too beautiful to finish reading it early.

You write a letter when you have a crush so intense that you don’t know what else to do. Rereading your letters reminds you of how powerful your emotions can be, how all-consuming. You hide them between the vinyls on a shelf above the bed, where no one will ever find them. Robin would say you’re being dramatic, but drama can be fun…

“What are you doing?” Dustin asked suddenly, entering the room without knocking. “Nothing” you smiled, covering the unfinished part of the letter with your elbow. “Your room is a mess” brother looked around. “And listen, about that pan-”

“Good night, Dustin. I hope you will be dreaming of something nice” you smiled sweetly, showing him the way out. It wasn’t until he left that you finished pouring your feelings onto the paper that you put the letter into the envelope, addressed it and put it between the vinyl, where there were four similar envelopes. Each one was for another boy, who would always be a part of you.

Yeah, drama can be fun. Just as long nobody else knows about it.

“So you’re telling me” Robin stopped halfway down the track. She didn’t care about getting a pass at the PE, anyway, you too. The coach sent you an indulgent look, and your friend just shrugged her shoulders. The other girls ran past you, rubbing your shoulders, but besides that, they didn’t pay much attention to you. “That they were on another date, taking you with them again? Why don’t you just say no to them?”

“I don’t know” Robin groaned and grabbed her side. “What’s going on?” “My body reacts badly to physical effort” she muttered and sat on the treadmill, pulling her legs out. “Some running won’t hurt you” Becky Miller snorted, running alongside us. “Running is humiliating” Robin didn’t even look at her. “Dude, you have to stop this. Every fucking time you come to me and tell me how badly you’re feeling, you’re the one who’s responsible for it. Tell him finally how you feel. Nothing’s gonna happen. There will be no earthquake. The aliens won’t find their way to Earth. And you will finally fall asleep and free yourself from that strange triangle”.

“I don’t want it to be weird between us” you shruged your shoulders.”If I push them off, I’ll start losing them. They’ll find that the two of us are actually better off and… forget how cool it used to be.”

“That’s why relationships sucks” Robin moaned and grabbed your hand. Coach had already started walking towards us, but he was still far away. “But hey… Nancy is your friend. Jonathan is your friend. They care about you. They love you. Maybe not as much as I do, but they do. You don’t have to worry. Everything’s gonna be okay, just… just don’t let it break you. Okay?”

“Okay” you smiled. Robin smiled too and turned her back, frowning her eyebrows. “What’s Harrington doing here? He’s all sweaty and, oh, my God, he looks gross, but shouldn’t he have basketball practice now?”

“Hey, Henderson!” Steve has spoken to you. You lifted your head and swallowed. Steve hasn’t talked to you since you guys were thirteen. Damn thirteen. “On a scale from one to ten, how bad this looks like?” you asked when your hands started shaking. “I’m hovering somewhere in the high thirties” Robin responded quietly, standing up. “Me?” you made sure and Steve nodded his head. His hair was in terrible disarray, but although it was wet and stuck to his forehead, it still looked impressive. He wasn’t angry or upset, which was good, but… but he didn’t look happy either.

“If you need me, I’ll be in the nurse’s office” Robink winked and walked away. “Look, I just wanted to say that I really…” Steve licked his lips and wiped his forehead with the palm of his hand. What the hell was going on here. “Goddamn, this is the first time I’ve been in situation like this… I appreciate it, but it’s never gonna happen”.

“I’m sorry, what?” You asked. Why did Robin have to leave? Why did she have to leave you? “From what I remember that kiss was hot, you know, for being in seventh grade” Steve said slowly, leading the eye somewhere outside of you, just to avoid looking you in the eye. “And I think it’s really cool you think I have golden specks in my eyes. And that my hair is gorgeous. But this is a strange moment for me… I just broke up with Nancy, you know… Becky is… she’s fine, she seems fine. I may not be ready at all…”

You stopped listening to him and looked at his hands. You don’t know what you expected, maybe they will shake as much as yours, but no. He was holding the envelope. A white, slightly old envelope, with his name written with your writing. With your pen. And your hand.

“At first I thought it was just Dustin’s stupid joke, but that dipshit probably doesn’t even know how to write…” Steve kept on talking, but your mind was somewhere else. It went all the way from school to your house, tossing the whole room in it’s memory, wondering hhow did the letters get in sight. How did they even reach the people they were never supposed to reach?

“I don’t want to be an asshole, and I certainly don’t want you… I don’t know, to feel bad about it, but…” Steve’s voice was drilling into your brain, and your stomach started to shrink painfully. Maybe it’d have managed, if it wasn’t for the fact that Jonathan was just going to the pitch, and he also was holding the envelope.

Oh, no.

#steve harrington imagine #steve harringotn #jonathan byers imagine #jonathan byers #steve harrington x reader #stranger things #stranger things imagine

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datheetjoella · 4 years ago

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Fantober 2020, Day 29: Soulmate

Author: DatHeetJoella Fandom: Free! Pairing: MakoHaru Rating: T Part: 29/31 (read the full collection here) Word count: 2,872 Tags: Alternate Universe - Soulmate, Developing Relationship, Fluff, First Interaction, Mirror Link Read at: AO3, FFn, or right here!

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Green. For as long as he could remember, Haruka had dreamt of green. It was vibrant, ever-present, warm, and above all comforting. Like the essence of happiness was captured in one colour.

Outside of his dreams, Haruka had never encountered a green quite like it - at least, not that he recalled. Grass seemed dull in comparison, while neon signs screamed to call attention to them, but Haruka's green was a gentle shade, bright but still soft.

Haruka didn't know what it was supposed to represent, if it even had a meaning or if it was nothing more than an image his mind conjured up at night because it couldn't be bothered to create something else. But it wasn't unpleasant, far from it, so he hadn't questioned it beyond a fleeting thought here and there.

It was no different this morning; the last rays of green lingered before his eyelids when he woke up and left contentment in his heart. What was different this morning was the time displayed on his alarm clock, that either hadn't gone off or that he'd pressed in his sleep. Seven-fifteen, half an hour later than usual. There went his morning bath.

His good mood instantly vanished and he was almost certain a bad day would follow. With a sigh, Haruka pulled himself from his sheets and dragged his feet toward the bathroom.

The mirror above the sink reflected his sour expression, but he couldn't be bothered to unfurl his eyebrows. It wasn't like anyone else could see him right now and even if they could, he couldn't care less about his appearance or their possible opinion at that moment.

He grabbed the tube of toothpaste and his brush and pinched some onto the bristles, then he sighed again. Of course it squirted out too much, half of it spilling over and wasting away in the sink. Scrap that bad day and make it awful.

The thunder clouds were nearly visible above his head as he lazily brushed his teeth. Perhaps he should've just turned around and gone back to sleep, school be damned. Judging by how this day was going so far, he'd probably miss the train or get hit by a bus on the way there.

He spat out some of the excess toothpaste, but when he straightened his back, he wasn't met with his reflection. Instead, he saw a completely different bathroom, with a white wall instead of small blue tiles, and a completely different person; a person he didn't know.

It was a guy who he estimated to be around his age. His brown locks were styled in the most incredible bedhead Haruka had ever seen and his eyes were squeezed shut, a large hand covering up a yawn. When it passed, he lowered his arm and revealed his heart-shaped face with thick, upslanting eyebrows, a straight and slightly raised nose, full lips and pearly teeth.

Despite the visible fatigue wearing down his features, he was undeniably handsome. Very handsome. But when he opened his eyes and his pupils shrunk as they adjusted to the light inside the bathroom, Haruka's breath was stolen from his lungs. His irises were green. That shade of green Haruka had been yearning for since he was a child.

After eighteen years, Haruka finally saw his soulmate and he was relieved and touched and immensely confused.

Most people first met their soulmate when they were kids. As soon as they heard about the connection mirrors made between two people, a phenomenon scientists couldn't explain to this day, they'd spend days in front of the most reflective surface in their house in the hopes of catching a glimpse of their special someone. While Haruka hadn't been quite that eager, he'd be lying if he said that he didn't coincidentally pass by mirrors more often than before and lingered for longer than necessary.

Not once had he booked any success and after a while, he gave up. If his soulmate and he were destined to be together, they would see each other eventually. As the years went by, the lurch of his stomach whenever he stood in front of a mirror disappeared and the thought faded to the back of his mind, where it lived as a cricket that blended in with the rest of the white noise.

And now, when he overslept like he never did and was angry at the world for the tiniest little things going wrong, the day that had been written in the stars since his birth or perhaps long before that had arrived. It was almost funny. Almost.

Haruka was sure he hadn't seen him before, because there was no way he could ever forget a face as beautiful as this guy's. What did leave him baffled, though, was that he'd somehow been dreaming of his soulmate's eyes for years prior to their first meeting. That wasn't supposed to be part of the deal and he never heard of anyone who experienced it too, not from his friends or family members, not even in the most romantic movies or tv dramas. Had his soulmate been dreaming of his eye colour too, or was Haruka special for some unknown reason?

He didn't have much time to ponder it over. When his soulmate processed what he was seeing, his jaw dropped, then his mouth moved rapidly and he frantically waved his hands. What he was blabbering about, Haruka had no idea since mirrors were not equipped with microphones and speakers, but once he said his piece, he was gone.

Everything happened in a flash and before Haruka knew it, he was staring back at himself again. Like the image of his soulmate was nothing more than a hallucination.

Unsure of what to do now, Haruka quickly finished brushing his teeth and rinsed out his mouth. He wasn't sure if his soulmate was going to come back, but if he left now, then he might have to wait for eighteen more years to see him again.

Fortunately, his patience was rewarded. After a minute, the guy returned with a notebook in hand. He held it up and scribbled on the page in fine letters was, 'Hello, nice to meet you. My name is Makoto Tachibana. What is your name?'

The writing was in English and Haruka felt like an idiot once more. He hadn't even considered the possibility that his soulmate could be from another country. While his name was clearly Japanese and his appearance matched, that didn't have to mean he lived here and spoke the language fluently. Perhaps his ancestors moved overseas a century ago and he didn't speak two words Japanese. The possible time zone difference that came with it might've been the reason they hadn't met sooner. If that were the case, they were going to have a problem because foreign languages were not exactly Haruka's strongest suit. There was only one way to find out.

He held up his hand to tell his soulmate to wait while he went to fetch a notebook and a pen of his own. When he got them, he sped back to the bathroom, where his soulmate remained with a kind smile on his face. The drowsiness had vanished and instead, his eyes were twinkling, making Haruka's stomach flutter. Even without the mirror, Haruka would've instantly known this was his soulmate; never before had a single expression done so much to his insides.

'Haruka Nanase.' He wrote down and then he decided to cut to the chase immediately. He scratched at his chin as he pondered over the correct English spelling. 'Where are you from?'

'I am from Japan, and you?' Was his soulmate's response and his heart sighed in relief. At least he didn't have to worry about his English vocabulary anymore.

'Me too.'

His soulmate's face lit up even more - if that was even possible - and he excitedly scribbled more into his notebook. 'Oh, thank goodness! I was afraid you'd be from abroad and that I would have to write in English the whole time. My English is not so good.'

A tiny smile curled Haruka's lips. So far, that was one trait they had in common. But before he could write that, his soulmate put his pen against his paper again.

'I'm so glad I finally get to see you, Nanase-kun. I was starting to worry we might never meet. I've been looking forward to this moment for so long and I have so many things I want to ask you. Sorry if that's weird.' When writing in his native language, Makoto appeared to be very talkative. It was kind of cute.

'It's not weird. I've been wondering about you too.' Haruka held up his notebook, but then he lowered it again and added, 'and just Haru is fine. No need to be so polite.'

'Alright, Haru, you can call me Makoto, then. How old are you?'

'Eighteen.'

'Oh, you're older than me. I'm seventeen. I'm turning eighteen on November 17th.'

November 17th. Haruka hadn't given his soulmate's birthday much thought, but now it seemed odd he always passed such an important day by like it was nothing, while he was certainly going to celebrate it in the future.

'That's less than a month away. I should get you a present.'

Makoto wrote something, then scrapped it and wrote something else. What was left was, 'Thanks, but you don't have to. When's your birthday?' But crossed out between the lines, Haruka could make out 'meeting you is already the best present I could've wished for.'

Haruka felt his cheeks warm up and he averted his head. Although they met a mere handful of minutes ago, Makoto was already proving himself to be overwhelmingly sweet and kind. Not that Haruka expected anything less of his soulmate.

'June 30th.'

'Only a few months apart. I'm assuming you're in your third year of high school too, right?' Makoto wrote and Haruka nodded. 'Sorry if this is too personal, but do you mind telling me where you live?'

That question made Haruka frown. Makoto was his soulmate and they were supposed to live their lives by each other's side. In order to meet in person, knowing where the other was located was kind of a requirement. Maybe Makoto was a bit too considerate for his own good. 'I was born in Kyoto, but I currently live in Tokyo.'

Makoto's green eyes lit up in something Haruka could only describe as excitement. 'Really? I'm planning to go to a university in Tokyo in April! Meijou Chuo, have you heard of it?'

If Makoto was coming to Tokyo, that meant he didn't leave here yet, but that he would be within reach soon. That brought some peace to Haruka's heart; now he didn't have to jump through hoops to see him in real life. 'I have. What are you going to study?'

'Sports Education. I want to be a swim coach for children.'

This time, it was Haruka's turn to gasp. Did that mean Makoto was a swimmer too? It seemed almost too good to be true, but would someone who didn't love to swim really be his other half? 'Do you swim yourself?'

'I do. I specialise in backstroke. Does that mean you also swim?'

By the look of his broad shoulders, that wasn't difficult to believe. Haruka could only imagine what kind of muscles were concealed by his orange and yellow shirt.

'I only swim free.' Haruka noted down and before he knew it, he added, 'I was offered a swimming scholarship at Hidaka University. I'll be starting in April too.'

Makoto's mouth fell ajar. 'Wow, that's amazing, Haru! I'm so proud of you.'

If Haruka's face felt warm before, then it was scorching now. 'If you're going to a university in Tokyo, then where do you live now?'

'In Iwatobi, a small seaside town in Tottori. I was born and raised here. Have you heard of it before?'

The coincidences were stacking up so quickly it was almost scary. 'My grandma was born in Iwatobi. She lived there for years until she and my grandpa got together and moved to Kyoto.'

'Really? Who would've thought?' Makoto held up his notebook with a small chuckle. Haruka couldn't hear it, but he was convinced the sound was as lovely as his sunny smile was.

'She always made it sound like a beautiful place, so I've been meaning to go visit it sometime.'

'You definitely should, it truly is an amazing place. The view of the ocean is stunning and the mountains are perfect to hike or ride a bicycle through.' Once Makoto was certain Haruka had read it, he flipped the page and wrote something else. 'I've lived here for my whole life, so it's going to be hard to adjust to living in such a big city without my family around. Although I set my mind to it, I've never been all by myself before and I was scared I wouldn't be able to get around, so knowing you'll be there is a great comfort.'

Without conscious input of his brain, Haruka wrote, 'It is a bit scary at first, but you'll get used to it sooner or later. If you're not comfortable living by yourself, you're welcome to come live with me. My parents moved to Hokkaido for my father's work so I live by myself anyway.'

The second he raised his pen from the paper, he began to question his own sanity. He just met Makoto and didn't even know what his voice was like yet, let alone the rest of his life and how he was as a person. Soulmate or not, suggesting to move in together right off the bat was absolutely mental and there was no way Haruka was showing him this page.

To his relief and to his regret, Makoto suddenly wrote. 'I'm sorry, Haru, I have to go. My mom is calling me for breakfast and I still have to brush my teeth and get dressed. I'd love to chat with you more and ask everything I want to know, but if I don't hurry up I'll be late for school.'

The thought of having to part now they finally met after years stung, but even though their worlds stopped turning when their gazes locked, the outside world continued on like nothing had happened. 'It's okay. I have to get going too or else I'll miss my train.'

'Before you go, could I ask for your phone number and email? Then we can easily keep in touch without having to stand in front of a mirror all day.'

Haruka nodded again. 'Wait a second. I don't know them from the top of my head, so I have to get my phone.'

'No worries, I'll wait.'

Once Haruka had retrieved his phone from some side pocket of his bag, he sped back to the bathroom. He wrote the information out on the page and Makoto copied it into his own notebook.

'Thanks! I'll send you a message right away so you'll have my contact info too. Thank you for chatting with me, Haru. I couldn't have imagined a better soulmate.' Makoto tilted his head, eyes falling shut with a beaming grin.

Involuntarily, a smile graced Haruka's face as well. When met with such a joyous expression on such a handsome face, was it even possible not to smile as well? 'Me neither.'

After they scribbled some goodbyes, Haruka dashed out of the bathroom, promptly forgetting to even wash his face because his frantic heart was trying to hammer its way out of his chest. He had to start cooking or else he would certainly miss his train, but Haruka couldn't look away from his phone's screen, waiting for that message to pop up. Until then, he wouldn't be able to get a bite down his throat.

A whopping two minutes later, his phone beeped at last.

'Hey Haru, this is Makoto. Here you have my contact info. Sorry if I'm being too forward, and if that is the case then you can tell me and I'll back off, but do you have time to talk some more later? I've been dying to meet you and like I said earlier, there are countless things I want to ask you. If not, that's alright. Please know that you're always welcome to call me or send me a message whenever you want. I'll try my best to respond as quickly as possible. I hope to hear back from you soon, but there's no rush. Have a nice day!'

Haruka stared at the screen, his stomach tingling with a wave of unfamiliar feelings. Now he was definitely going to be late for school.

Little did Haruka know back then that Makoto and he would see each other in person sooner than he had thought, that Makoto's dreams had been overrun by cobalt blue for as long as he could remember as well, and that their first interaction had not actually been their first meeting. But least of all, Haruka couldn't have foreseen that the mindless proposal he wrote on that October day in front of the mirror but hadn't held up to show Makoto would come true.

#i'm sorry i'm stupid #makoharu #makoharu fic #my fic #fantober2020 #colourful days with you

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stevenismyboy · 4 years ago

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I like me better when I’m with you.

This fic was posted first on my main blog which is captainelsaeverdeen. I started my own blog only for my imagines and I moved all my work from there to here. hope you guys would enjoy my work! <3

Not for the first time, right?

“Man, you have a strange taste in men” Jonathan twisted his head.

Oh boy, if you only knew.

Dear Jonathan Byers…

Yeah, drama can be fun. Just as long nobody else knows about it.

Oh, no.

Taglist: @krazykatkay @mochminnie @ghostineleven @the-almond-dinger @sydzygy @queen1054

#steve harrington #steve harrington imagine #jonathan byers #jonathan byers imagine #steve harrington x reader #stranger things #stranger things imagine

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bluebellhairpin · 6 years ago

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The Girl Who Knew The End {3}

“I Was With Child”

Thorin Oakenshield X Fem!Reader

Chapter Two // Lullaby of Woe

Chapter Three // (You’re Here!)

Chapter Four // While We’re Here

A/N: I’m so very lazy. - Nemo

Summary: The time has come for Bilbo to be (almost) eaten by trolls. As it turns out, movies don’t convey exactly how disgusting the bags the dwarfs were placed in were. You decided to buy yourself and the others some time by completely faking becoming a mother... Or were you not lying?

Series Masterlist

Masterlist

{Edited 24-02-2020}

“I hate this part.” you mumbled to yourself, hiding in the bushes behind Fili and Kili as you watched Bilbo try and release the stolen ponies.

The brothers gave you a strange look, but by now you were used to those looks, just as they were used to you blurting out random incoherent sentences in the middle of random conversations.

“Fili, go get the others. We’ll need them soon.” you said, hitting the blond dwarf in the direction back towards your camp. He obeyed.

“What would we need the others-” Kili started, looking back at you before turning at the sound of Bilbo’s distressed yelp. You looked up at him, shaking your head from side to side as the Hobbit started conversation with the trolls.

“You’re getting good at this.” Kili said, smirking back at you before unsheathing his sword and stepping out of the bushes. The others came up behind you soon after, then you were lurched into a fight with the giant beings. Well, they looked awfully giant to you, but you guessed that would have to do with how small you were now.

They’d probably be less intimidating if you were a normal human height.

The battle was short-lived, just like you remembered, and soon you were all being packed up into bags. You didn’t want to be put into a bag, they looked far too dirty, and no doubt you’d end up underneath one of the larger members of the Company, or worse - stuck on top of Thorin. Not something you were looking forward to.

The dumb troll moved to pick you up, you stepped back as it’s hands came closer, racking through your mind for some excuse as to why you shouldn’t be bagged up.

“Wait, no! You can’t put me in one of those!” you yelled, now squirming in the trolls hand. He looked at you with a sideways head-tilt.

“Why not? You’ve got nothin’ special about you.”

“I-I do! I’m not like the others, you couldn’t even eat me yet.” One of the smarter trolls looked over, noticing the extra fight you were putting up.

“Why wouldn’t we eat you yet? A dwarrowdam is more tasty than a dwarf.” He said.

“A-Ah, that’s the thing. I’m…” you swallowed, thinking of something women could do that men couldn’t. Then it hit you. “I’m with child!” you blurted.

“Meaning you’re extra, extra tasty. More meat on you.” The smarter troll took you from the dumber one, grabbing some ropes to add you to the spit where two others were already tied up.

“No, wait, wait! Just think! Once I get bigger and give birth you’d have an extra dwarf to eat. I’ve heard dwarflings are even more delicious than dwarrowdam’s.” you spoke quickly, wasting no time in trying to lie you’re way out of being eaten.

“And why wouldn’t we still tie you up with the others?” The troll asked.

“Because… Tying me up would restrict the growth of the child.” you bluffed, knowing all you needed to buy more time. Gandalf would be here at daybreak if you couldn’t leave to retrieve him sooner, and Bilbo would help even more later. “If I’m not tied up then the child will be bigger.” you added, nodding as if to convince them.

The trolls seemed to buy your excuse and put you down in the pen with the ponies. You looked over at the pile of dwarves and Bilbo, catching Thorin’s eye as you slowly moved towards the back of the pen in hopes you could just slip away to get help. The trolls were too busy trying to stop one of the dwarfs from squirming to notice you slide out of the pen and back further into the forest.

Thorin watched you, his mind telling him you were slipping away to save your own skin, but his heart told him to stay silent and wait. Even though he thought you disliked him with a fiery passion, you held both his nephews in high regard, and became almost like a daughter to Balin. He believed you wouldn’t leave those you liked to die simply because you thought one person you disliked deserved it.

You managed to find Gandalf within the next half hour, and you managed to watch on as he saved the others without risking your own skin again. Once the trolls were stone, you set to quick work of helping the others out of their restraints.

You’d already unbagged Fili, and Dwalin when you reached Thorin. He looked at you intently as you worked on the bag.

“How’d you come up with that idea? To fake yourself being with child?” he started, “If Gandalf didn’t save us and we were stuck, you’d only prolong your own suffering.” Once he finished you were also finished with his bag, letting him get himself out fully as you leant back on a stone.

“I was with child, at one point in my journey here.” you mumbled, “Technically it wasn't mine, but by the time our time together ended it seemed like he was.” You played with your hands as he looked over you with a slightly shocked face.

“How? What happened?” He seemed genuinely interested, and you couldn’t help the feeling in your stomach that made you want to share everything with him.

“I was passing through the Misty Mountains, and came across a cave where others had taken shelter before me. The only people left from their group were a mother and her infant son.” You started, taking a deep breath to keep your emotions in check. “She begged me to take him, to keep him safe. I tried my best, but orcs always have a way of ruining everything - even promises.”

Gandalf had said you'd come across orcs and trolls before. This was your encounter with orcs, but what about trolls? He decided to ask, leaning beside you as you both looked towards the others.

“If you don't mind me asking, and I don't want to come across as prying, but what exactly happened?” He asked gently, keeping his eyes forwards and off you.

“It was a little ways back towards the mountains from here.” you started softly, “I had Kha- the child strapped to my back, I had to tuck my pack under my arm, so I couldn't get to my sword quickly if an attack came. I knew it was risky, but the boy couldn't walk, he was too small, I had no other choice. Then, out of nowhere, orcs came. I found later that it was an ambush, prepared for someone else, but they got me and the child instead.” You let out a shaken sigh, eyes watering slightly, and your hands wringing each other in your lap. “Trolls came after, and in the confusion I could get away.”

Thorin felt guilt was over him. He took in a silent breath of courage, then took one of your hands in his, letting his thumb brush over your knuckles. He felt himself relax when you didn't object to his actions.

You looked up at him, and he down at you.

“I'm sorry.” He felt that it was partially his fault for the child's death, but it was either orcs or frostbite. Orcs certainly would have been a much quicker death, frostbite would've been much slower since hunger and thirst would've come into play too. Orcs may be cruel, but they prefer the quick death of children since they weep more than they scream.

“You wouldn't have helped much. His death was one of those things fate decides, you can't change that, only the way it happens.”

Thorin and you shared a look, one that passed understanding between you both for a few long moments. He needed you, for something really was going to happen on this journey back to his homeland. You needed him - so you could get home too.

An unspoken agreement was formed.

You’d help each other. No more pushing each other's buttons. No more getting on one another's nerves.

You’d finally get along.

Series Taglist: @thorins-queen-of-erebor @pigeonsbones @captainrainbowpanda @theabandonedchocolate

#Thorin Oakenshield #thorin x reader #thorin imagine #thorin oakenshield imagine #thorin oakensheild x reader #the hobbit x reader #lotr x reader

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turning-dreams-into-chaos · 6 years ago

Text

Benched

Request:

Hello, would you be able to do a one shot about Cisco Ramon? Anything about him would be great

Requested by: @unicoroncrack

Paring: Cisco Ramon X Reader

Word Count: 1,475

Post Date: 4-17-19

A/N: Hi guys! You guys are awesome with your requesting! If you’ve requested something, I’ll try to have it posted within the next week or so! I hope you guys like this! Remember to like, reblog, and continue requesting! Ok again I love you all!

-Ria

*Not My Gif*

You were benched. That’s what happens when you try and take on today’s big bad with the Flash. It wouldn’t have gone completely wrong if you just would’ve noticed the women hiding behind the car sooner. As soon as you did see her, you rushed over and got her out of the way of danger, but not before taking a ball of energy to your leg. Unfortunately, you didn’t have Barry’s speed healing or really any thing like that. You could turn invisible. That’s really it. And if you think about it, that makes for an awful hero. All you can do is just disappear, and that’s literally all you do. You don’t think you’re much help to the team, but they all try to convince you otherwise, some more than others. Barry hates when you say you’re not really helpful, he just believes that being there is helpful, which of course is so Barry. Caitlin just thought you were being dramatic, she loved you like a sister but believed that sometimes you were a bit over the top in your complaining. But Cisco, well he was the only one who was straight with you. You say that being invisible was stupid and he completely agreed. There was always something different about Cisco when he’s around you, you could never put your finger in it but it was really cute to watch him while he was building something. The way he wasn’t really paying attention to anything around him but the project and you, the way his hair would fall on his face and he would brush it back behind his ear, the way he would throw his head back in laughter after you make a cheesy joke, the way he... well let’s just say it was really cute when he would do anything. And you knew it, you had a major crush on the man. Well it’s more like falling in love. But you don’t believe he’ll be there to catch you.

After you broke your leg and put on the bench you refused to leave Star labs until you got better. Sometimes Cait or Barry would stay with you, but you always loved it when Cisco dedicates his whole day to make you feel better. “Cisco…” you say spinning in your chair, “Cisco… CISCO!” “OW!!! Y/N! what was that for!” He screams rubbing his head from where you hit him with your pen, trying to hold your laughter in at his bemused expression. “Cisco, I’m bored. I want to do something instead of just sit here in this cast all day. I need to LIVE!” you dramatize as you fling your arms out, continuing to spin in your chair, earning a laugh from the long-haired boy. You spin around on your chair to shoot him your legendary death-glare when you find you’ve overestimated the spin and fell off the chair right onto your butt. “…ow…” “Y/N!” Cisco yells racing over to where you’re sprawled out on the floor unable to get up with your full leg cast on, he helps you up, trying not to laugh at your obvious frown and slightly red cheeks. “Are you ok?” he asks, getting even harder not to laugh at you with your hair falling across your face, growing even redder as he takes the stray strands and placing them behind your ear. “Oh, just peachy” you deadpanned. When he finally breaks out doubling over in laughter, you give him a betrayed look, trying to hide your own amusement, failing miserably as you let out a few chuckles earning a satisfied smirk from Cisco’s face. “Well, now that I have your attention, can we please do something? Like play a game or watch a movie or something? Cis, I’m really bored.” You mumble as you start spinning in the chair again. “Fine,” he grabs a hold of your chair dragging you from his lab into the cortex to put on movie, “you pick the movie and I’ll make some popcorn. And stop spinning on the chair, one more fall and you might break more than your leg.” He says as he walks out of the room, giving you a smirk as you stick your tongue out at him. You love the bantering you guys do, you only do it with him and that makes it special in your book. Looking at the movies you have, you decide to watch Star Wars grabbing the first disc and starting it waiting for him to come back with popcorn. “Ok Y/N, I only found one bowl, so you can’t hog all of it again. Last time I barely got any and then you had the nerve to say it wasn’t any good.” “Well it wasn’t, and I won’t hog it if you won’t, god knows you eat as much popcorn as I do Cis, stop lying.” You chuckle as he sits down bringing his chair right next to yours.

As soon as the movie starts getting good you reach for some popcorn, only for him to move the bowl just out of your grasp. You give him a spiteful look as he continues to watch the movie, a slight smirk evident of his face. “Hey Cisco. You wanna… I don’t know… share the popcorn? You know, so you’re not hogging it all?” you say as you give him a fake smile, only to be returned with a devilish smile. “Fine you want some? Open up!” he says as he scoots his chair away from yours, you finally realize he’s gonna throw the popcorn into your mouth. “You’re on, Vibe.” He starts chucking the popcorn into the air and you moving your head around manage to catch almost all the pieces in your mouth, then you guys switch places so your throwing popcorn at him.

After a while, you and Cisco can barely keep your eyes open with the amount of butter covering your face. Doubling over in laughter, you both clean off each other’s faces, each of you stealing glances at the other when you think they’re not looking. When Cisco finished cleaning your face you take a moment to just look at him. The way is hair is perfectly framing his face, the way his mouth curls up at the corners, pulling it into a happy smile, the way his eyes shine as they look at your lips. Wait… your lips? Cisco is staring at your lips! Your heart seems to be beating right out of your chest as you think about what could happen right now between you and the man you fell in love with. “Y/N…” Cisco whispers so you could barely hear him, “Y/N, I think…I think I fell in love with you.” He says a little louder moving his gaze up to your eyes to see your reaction. You froze. This was everything you’ve wanted for a while and it feels amazing. You try to hold all your happiness in as you stare at him, your lips giving you away quite a bit as you start smiling uncontrollably. “Cisco… I know I fell in love with you a long time ago.” You whisper back watching his eyes light up at your response. He pulls your chair closer to you as he slowly leans into you, asking permission before moving the rest of the way. You finish off the distance, closing your eyes as your lips touch, your arms moving up around his neck, and his down to your waist, pulling you closer, being careful not to pull you in a way that will hurt your leg. When you pull apart you rest your forehead on his smiling as you stare in each other’s eyes. You both are so focused on each other you don’t even hear Barry and Caitlin walk into the cortex. “Well, what do you know Cait, you were right.” Barry says in astonishment at how long it took you guys to get together, finally pulling your attention away. Your cheeks turn a dark red as you realize that they had just caught you and Cisco in a very important moment. “Yep. Pay up Barry.” Caitlin declares holding out her hand to the man who shoved $10 into it. You stare at them in shock “You guys made a bet on our relationship?” “We’re in a relationship now?” “Well yeah Cisco, I’d hope so.” “This is one of best moments in my life.” He stares at you with love while you give him a perplexed look “One of? What’s your best?” “Meeting you.” You feel your cheeks become even redder, if that was even possible, watching as his darken as well. “oh, you dork.” “Hey. I’m your dork.” “Yeah. Yeah you are.” You whisper as you lean in catching his lips with yours one more time. “Oh, boy I’m glad I was benched.”

#Cisco Ramon X Reader #cisco x reader #team flash x reader #team flash #Cisco Ramon #barry allen #flash imagine #the flash #caitlin snow

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middaysoups · 5 years ago

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The Water’s Touch (Short Story) by pipscribbler

The waves clash together like young stags in a playful battle as the windswept the gulls higher and higher into the heavens. I sat at the edge of the beach on a man-made stone wall, with my feet dipped into the warm inviting sand. I was gazing up at the white fluffy clouds, a small smile placed on my lips. My mind was blank but in a peaceful way, nothing was there to stress my thoughts. It was a feeling I rarely got, for there was always something that got in the way. I sighed, taking in the scenery.

This is what I want.

A place where I feel not bounded. Where I am at peace, with no pressure, no judgements, and...

“Eevy.”

That voice. I turned my head to see two ocean blue orbs with green specks and a brown fringe resting above them neatly. I smiled, tears filling my eyes. Standing beside me was my colleague, my brother, my best friend.

“Adrian.”

He still looked the same since four months ago, since... the incident. Same floppy brown hair, tall and lean, he hasn’t changed at all. High and mighty, I’ve always saw him as when I was younger. That was until I realised how his life was, broken, torn, scarred, lonely, but by the time I realised how bad it was, it was too late.

I launched at him with open arms, tears running like streams. Instead of catching me though and embracing me with his warm touch, I hit the sanded ground. My head shot up and I searched around in panic. I sat up on my knees.

Where did he go? He couldn’t have just disappeared.

He wasn’t even there to begin with was he?

A harsh voice blew past with the wind in my ear.

“He was never there in the first place. You’re all alone.”

The wind grew harsher, ripping my hair from its ponytail. I buried my face in the palms of my hands. I kept repeating that it wasn’t true, it was only a nightmare. The waves grew stronger, the stags in a battle of betrayal. A thunderous boom could be heard in the distance of the ocean. Suddenly, with a blinding flash of white, my eyes snapped open.

My bed sheets were drenched in sweat from tossing and turning in my sleep. I rubbed my forehead and sighed. It was happening too often. I barely grazed my cheek to realise that tears were still falling. I quickly wiped them away and fell back onto my pillow, staring at the ceiling.

That’s the eighth time this month I’ve had these kinds of dreams.

A loud bang reached my ears, it came from downstairs. Shouts and yells followed shortly. I rolled my eyes, not surprised to hear them this early in the morning. I flipped over my quilt and left my warm bed, heading to my wardrobe to choose whatever clothing. After getting changed I brushed my teeth, put on my shoes, and grabbed my bag, then headed downstairs quietly, in hope that my screaming mother and father didn’t see me. The front door shut silently as I left for school. I quickly walked away from the shack known as my house. I reached the bus stop in five minutes where a bunch of other students were waiting. As I came closer they glared and whispered amongst themselves. I kept my distanced away from them, standing next to a light pole. I dug through my pocket to pull out my head-phones and iPod and plugged them in.

From a few feet away, I noticed an unfamiliar kid waiting at the bus stop also. He wore a black band jumper, black jeans, and green convers. His pitch-black hair fell over his face so I couldn’t get a gaze at what he looked like. I decided to ignore my curiosity and continued on my phone. The bus arrived soon and everyone piled on. I sat at the front on my own as usual, I always waited for everyone else to get on first before I did, it was easier to be avoided that way.

The bus ride was short as I noticed grey buildings coming into view. I was contemplating whether or not to get off the bus first. If I did, there's the fact that rubbers, pencil, pens, you name it, would be thrown at me. Then again, if I stayed and waited for everyone to leave, I'll get ambushed, which could be worse. As the bus came to a stop, I made up my mind to rush off first. I shot up out of my seat and instantly regretted it as all types of school equipment, even some lunches, were launched at me. Just as I got to the bus doors, an orange hit my head, with its juice trickling down the side of my face. I sighed, I hoped that I wouldn't get anything messy thrown at me. Guess I was wrong.

I threw away the orange and entered the gates of Hell. I was passed by rushing students and skateboarders, along with the regular shove into the wall. I continued walking and shook it off. Keeping close to the walls, being careful so that I wouldn’t run into any unwanted company, I got closer to my locker. The halls were crowded with all stereotypical students; jocks, skaters, preps, potheads, nerds, all you can name. Just reaching the familiar yellow locker, I suddenly came in contact with the wall, my face smashed in. Laughing reached my ears, all too familiar laughs. With a pounding head, I looked up to see the closest people I know to be called “friends”. Evil smirks spread across their masked faces of make-up with their bleach blonde hair up in high pony-tails falling down the back of their cheerleading uniforms.

Their leader laughed, reminding me of an evil witch you would've heard about in stories when you were a child. She spoke, her pitched high voice filling my ears.

“Oh look, the little brat fell to the ground, beneath us, where she belongs.” one of her goons then spoke after.

"Looks like her face was smashed, maybe it'll make her look better. Although I doubt it."

Her prep team, and passing students, laughed and giggled as I remained slumped on the tatty, dirty floor. A sudden yell in the distance draws their leader's attention away from me. Her face lights up as she rushes off down the hall. When I was certain she was gone I picked myself up along with my grey schoolbag. I quickly got what I needed from my locker and then rushed to the bathroom, which was thankfully empty. I checked myself in the mirror, a slightly black bruise formed on my forehead. I sighed.

Great...

I was lucky to have my makeup bag with me, otherwise it was an interrogation with Mrs. Grayson. Using what was left of my foundation, I concealed another massive bruise that painted my forehead in purple. Just as I finished, the bell rang. I cursed under my breath.

Great, now I'm late.

I packed up my stuff and rushed out down the hall to room 116. The halls were emptying as students left for class. I just made it to my class to see that it was half full of students, taking out their books. I kept my head down and quickly walked to the back-seats. Thankfully, there was one free seat by the window, so I threw myself into the seat and began taking out my books for class. Students poured into the room, rushing to get good seats.

If they wanted good seats, they should've gotten here sooner.

I noticed the new guy from my bus stop enter the room. He kept his head down so I still couldn't get a glimpse of what he looked like, which slightly annoyed my curiosity. I sighed and ignored it then turned to look out the window to the blue sea above me.

My blue friend, the sky. He's always been there for me. For some reason, every time I looked to the sky, it always felt like it was gazing right back at me. When there were clouds populating this ocean up above, and they would make shapes of all sorts, it felt like my blue friend was telling a story to me. It was fascinating, truly magnificent.

I didn't notice that the class had started until Mrs. Grayson called my name for roll-call. I quickly gave a loud enough "yes" and raised my hand. With that done, the class. I didn't pay attention, I couldn't care less.

^^^

The bell rang for lunch to begin. I rushed out of the classroom to the back yard of the school. The yard was usually lowly populated, much to my delight. The place was always well shaded from the sun because of the tall buildings surrounding. As I hit the outside air, the smell of smoke filled my nose, making me instantly cough. The smokers were in a corner by the back gate. I wasn't the one for smoking, just because of my background and history doesn't mean I need a roll of chemicals to soothe the pain. That's what music is for.

I walked to one of the shaded walls and sat down on the tarmac, leaning against the white plaster.

I closed my eyes, listening to the birds that were perched in a nearby tree outside the school grounds. They sang their birdsong, speaking the language of nature. I opened my eyes to gaze up at the blue space above. White, fluffy clouds flew fast, going on their journey to the other side of the world. I used to imagine as a child, what it would be like if I could hop on a cloud and travel across the world. Since I was little, I have always wanted to travel around the world, to every country.

"Excuse me?"

I mentally groaned. Are you kidding me? Can't I get a break from society for one second?

I turned my head to the source of the voice. To my surprise, it was the new kid from earlier. I finally got a look at his appearance. He had deep green eyes, his black hair falling over them. I wondered how he could see with his hair in his eyes all the time. He had a small rounded face, but it only made him look younger than he was.

"Yeah?" I asked, my voice monotone. The stranger dropped his head to his shoes, as if thinking over what he was going to say. I was growing a little annoyed with him, for he was taking up my lunch time. After what felt like many minutes, he returned his gaze to me and asked.

"Um, could you help with this question we received in the last class?" I raised my eyebrow, as if asking "seriously?"

He proceeded on. "Considering I joined the school late in the year, I have no understanding of what we're doing. For most of the classes I just had, you were in them so, you know," he struggled to finish his sentence.

I closed my eyes and gave out a small sigh. I gave a small nod and he plopped himself down beside me. He opened his back and rummaged through to find his book. As he bent his head down to look, I couldn't help but notice a dark purple mark formed on the back of his neck just under his hair. I had a feeling who could've caused that bruise to form. My curiosity took over my speech, making me ask.

"So, did you happen to run into a bunch of football kids?" The boy snapped his head to me, but in a second, he dropped his eyes to the ground. That moment I knew it wasn't an accidental bruise. He cleared his throat, his gaze staying low.

"Yeah, they, um, they don't seem like my kind of people to be around." I nodded.

"Shoved into a wall?" I asked, he shook his head, surprisingly knowing what I was talking about.

"They pushed me over in the bathroom, I fell back and hit the edge of the sink."

I sighed. What was wrong with them?

"Oh, don't worry," I said, leaning back into the wall. "I know the treatment they give to kids who are different."

I heard him shuffle a little and from the corner of my eye, I saw him stick out his hand.

"I'm Ethan." I turned to him with a small smile and shook his hand.

"Eevy." I replied then changed the subject to why he came to me. "Now, what is it in French that you don't understand?

Lunch went on as we began working together. Before we knew it, the bell rang and we were to go to class. Sadly, we were in separate classes for the rest of the day, so we wouldn't see each 'til then. I entered my next and once again, sat at the back by the window. The prep girls from this morning were already seated on the other side of the room in the corner. As I entered, they looked me up and down, then continued with their gossiping. I rolled my eyes and continued to get to my seat.

The rest of the day went by quickly and the final bell for school rang. I packed up my things and proceeded to head to my bus.

"Eevy!"

I turned away from the path ahead and spotted Ethan rushing down pass students towards me. I gave a smile as I waited for him. Once he caught up to me he crouched over panting to try catch his breath from the running. I gave out a small laugh.

"I'm guessing you're not much for running then?" He rolled his eyes at me and we began walking. It was silent for a couple of minutes until he spoke.

"Are you not getting the bus?" He asked, glancing over at me. I shook my head responding.

"No, I rather walk home most days, saves the trouble of dealing with other students."

He nodded, understanding what I meant. "Yeah, I saw what they did to this morning while getting off the bus. They're that horrible huh?"

I gave a small laugh through a sigh. It was funny to laugh again, smile again. It had been too long. We were greeted by a comfortable silence, enjoying each other's company.

"Hey, how about we head for the beach?" I heard Ethan ask which caused me to look over to him. It had been months since I'd visited the ocean and its inviting sand, and it was Adrian's fault. After he left this life, I've had no reason to visit the beach. I knew that going there again would bring back bad memories, and yet for some reason, I felt like I had to, knowing that I had company.

After that moment of thought, I finally nodded in agreement and with that we changed course towards the coast.

We walked together in silence once again, taking in the small environment of our hometown. A blanket of ocean blue came into view as we walked down the hill leading to the beach. My heart began to race as my breath hitched quietly. The scenery instantly reminded me of the dream. The sun was hidden behind some clouds as the wind gently blew about, whipping our hair about. The sweet sound of the ocean's waves reached my ears as we drew closer. I let out a small sigh, breathing the salty air.

We came to the edge of the sand by the wall. I slipped off my shoes and sat up, gazing at the strong of the ocean. Ethan grabbed a bottle of water from his bag and sat next me, silence taking over.

"So," he began. "would it be okay to call you a friend now?"

That question made me smile. I only ever had one friend and since the "incident", I've been on my own.

I gave a small nod, a smile spreading across my face. This made Ethan return the smile, his eyes glowing, and for once in almost four months, I felt complete. Like, that I finally have someone to rely on. We've had each other's backs.

Maybe this semester will be much different after all.

#shortstory #story #words #romance #school #school romance #short #text #bully #stopbullying #writer #writers on tumblr #my writing #reblog #blog

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wildefiction · 5 years ago

Text

Hot Highs

PAIRING: Rob x Reader

WORD COUNT: 5,049

SUMMARY: Reader is on vacation with friends in Hawaii when a rousing game of truth or dare presents the most interesting opportunity

WARNINGS: Swears, Anxiety, Drinking, Oral Sex, Public Sex, Unprotected Sex

A/N: This was created for @spnkinkbingo. Check out my 2019 Bingo Card.

SQUARE FILLED: Public Sex

Smooth black vodka spilled over the lip of the bottle clutched in one hand, mixing with the pomegranate juice and Chambord already in the shaker. Sprinkling a pinch of edible glitter atop the other ingredients, you fit the top to the device, gripping tightly as you began to shake the drink in your hand.

Pouring the concoction into a chilled tumbler, the only step remaining was to add a twist of citrus. Slicing fresh lemon to accompany the signature drink, these glasses were added to the wooden serving tray already holding bowls of fruit, meats, cheeses and crackers.

Laughter could be heard from the next room over, the suite you and a few friends had rented for the Hawaii Supernatural Convention had been larger than even the pictures had shown.

The corner room overlooked the ocean, two of the walls constructed of floor-to-ceiling windows. Backing through the gauzy curtains framing the balcony doors, you set the tray down, joining the others at the patio table.

Several hours passed where your only concern was relaxing and having an amazing time with people you didn’t often get to spend time with.

Cards Against Humanity soon made way for a rousing game of Truth or Dare. Posting embarrassing videos to social media and screaming their love of Supernatural from the balcony were among some of the light-hearted tests that night. Flopping back into an empty chair, you turned to see your friend Violet’s cheeks flushed with the evidence of perhaps one too many drinks. Sitting forward, her eyes glittered with a fierce clarity as she set her sights on you.

“So, [Y/F/N], truth or dare?” The challenge in her expression suddenly made you nervous. Taking a deep breath, you nodded, uttering a meager “truth” under your breath.

“Ahh, yeah...no that’s enough of that.” Laughing to herself, your friend only grinned.

Eyes flicking to the other three people surrounding the table, you tilted your head in confusion.

“See, the point of the game is to have fun and make total fools of ourselves. Can’t very well do that if you pick ‘truth’ every time.” The exasperated look on Violet’s face finally broke your stubborn resolve.

“Fine, fine..dare.” Squinting at your friends, you braced yourself for whatever they were going to come up with.

Looking to the others, who merely nodded encouragingly, Violet turned to face you - a wide smile spreading over her features.

“Okay, so, tomorrow - during autographs, you’re going to give Rob your phone number.”

The patio was silent as you sat staring at your friends. A full minute passed while you waited for them to laugh or something - anything, to indicate they were joking. It never came, their raised eyebrows a clear sign that they were expecting some sort of an answer.

“You..you’re kidding, right?” “What kind of a dare is that?”

While you scoffed at the idea on the outside, the heavy thudding in your chest as your pulsed began to race gave way to how you had really reacted to their words.

“I’m not doing it, pick something else.” Crossing your arms over your chest, you rolled your eyes while you waited on them to reconsider.

“What’s the big deal [Y/F/N]? You’re single, he’s single...and you have a mad crush on the guy.” Lena, who sat to your right, spread her hands out, shrugging as if it were the most normal thing in the world.

“Yeah, you’re right, he is single - but he’s also a successful actor, a prolific musician and a gorgeous, kind human.” Ticking off your counter-arguments on each finger, it was still incredulous to think that they might be serious.

“Besides, people like Rob don’t date fans, it’s just not how things go.”

“--but..” Violet opened her mouth, ready to defend her argument - only to be cut-off.

“Fine, I’ll do it. It’ll just prove my point.”

Equal parts annoyed at their insistence and determined to squash the hope stirring in your gut, you pushed back from the table and went inside.

Saturday morning dawned bright and beautiful, rays of light streaming through the drawn curtains. Rolling to your back, you were in the midst of rubbing the sleep from your eyes when you were reminded of the promise you’d made the night before, the thoughts filtering through to the front of your mind.

Pulling jeans up over your thighs after showering, you could think of nothing but how you were supposed to pull this off.

Grabbing the paper schedule from the bedside table, you scanned the document, searching for your options. The biggest obstacle was going to be getting the note to him without being intercepted by his handler. While you’d decided that simply handing him a scrap of paper with your number on it was the best way to go, you’d still yet to figure out how to actually get it in his hand.

The choices were limited, two opportunities presenting themselves to you: Swain had autographs early that afternoon, and you knew from previous experiences that they usually held their signing right after playing the acoustic jam in the vendor room. The alternative would be when Rob had his solo autograph session - almost directly before the concert was due to start.

Struggling with the decision, you finished getting ready and headed downstairs; the first panels due to start in half an hour.

Sitting in your assigned copper seat, your heart began to race as Billy stepped on-stage. Norton and Mike followed, busying themselves with checking their instruments and getting into position. The anticipation of seeing Rob had you holding your breath and you didn’t know why - you’d been just fine around him yesterday. You’d yet to follow through on the dare, there was no reason why you should be this anxious. Willing yourself to calm down, you took a deep breath just before Rich’s heavy voice echoed through the ballroom, a wide smile plastered across his face as he flew up the stairs to start the day’s programming.

Autographs with Swain came sooner than you anticipated, the schedule running behind had the boys pushing the acoustic jam to after their autograph session rather than before. Having lined up for their performance early, you were among the first in line for autographs.

Approaching the table, the knot in your stomach tightened - a fresh dose of adrenaline coursing through your veins as you placed the black 5x7 photo mat on the banner in front of the handler. Passing it to Mike, who sat directly to her left, you held your breath, fingering the note clutched in your tense grip. The man’s reassuring smile and heartfelt thanks as he passed the mat to Norton made you a bit less nervous, and inwardly you breathed a sigh of relief. By some stroke of luck, the boys were arranged differently today, Rob being last at the table. As their signatures filled the black rectangle in silver sharpie, you began to breathe easier. Billy, who’d just removed the cap from his pen, greeted you; “What picture are you gonna put this with?”

Scribbling his name in the bottom right corner, he looked up in time to see you blush.

A nervous laugh spilled from your lips as you tried to think of an elegant way to describe the photo in question.

“Suffice it to say that had I put the picture with the mat, it probably would’ve been confiscated for being inappropriate.”

Billy laughed at that, and passed it on to Rob. Meeting his clear blue eyes was easy enough for you, but a flush colored your cheeks as he lifted one eyebrow in interest.

“Oh? Well, you should’ve brought it anyway.”

The smile was probably supposed to be encouraging, but you read it as lascivious. Flicking his gaze to the paper clutched in your hand, he looked back up at you from beneath thick, dark lashes. Finishing his signature, you watched as the gold ink he’d chosen began to dry in the center of the frame.

“Is that for me?”

Your eyes followed his movements as he extended a hand towards you; long, artistic fingers brushing against the folded paper still clutched in your own trembling hands. You must’ve made some noise that affirmed his question, and you watched, terrified, as he took the note from you.

Out of the corner of your eye, you could see the person behind you in line inching closer, her glossy photo sliding into place in front of Rob.

The fear in your expression must’ve been obvious, and you watched as the man before you narrowed his eyes. Picking up on your anxiety, he smiled - placing the folded paper in the front pocket of his white button-up shirt. Sighing in relief, you thanked him again and hurried from the table, equal parts relieved that you’d gone through with it, and terrified of what the outcome would be.

Afraid of that outcome, you really considered skipping both the vendor jam and the concert. You’d be mortified if people found out you were delusional enough to think he’d react favorably to being so forward. In the end though, it was the reassurance from your friends who’d dared you to go through with it in the first place, that put your mind at ease.

“There’s no point in staying in the hotel room, all miserable while the rest of us are having fun. He won’t have had time to read it before jam, which starts in--” looking at her phone, Lena grabbed you by the arm, pulling you down the hall at a brisk walk “--now!”

The thoughts were momentarily chased from your mind as the beginning riffs of Poptart Heart echoed through the room. By the time you reached the crowd, there was no space left at the front, and, seeing Rob immersed in his singing, your anxiety quieted a little. Maybe your friends were right, besides, what’s the worst that could happen?

Settling in to enjoy the rest of the short set, you fished the kazoo from your jeans pocket as the band shifted into Medicated; the cheap plastic instrument ready for the resounding solo that always came towards the end of the song.

“I knew you could be the kind of girl, that I could talk to..”

Changing into the long bohemian skirt you’d made specifically for the luau and concert, you took the time to comb through your hair, pinning an orange and magenta plumeria flower behind your right ear and sliding bangles around your wrists. The cropped tank top you’d paired with the outfit showed just a sliver of skin as you reached for your phone. Deciding to forego shoes with the weather being so nice, you took the elevator to the bottom floor, chatting with your friends about your excitement for the show; the embarrassment of earlier now completely forgotten.

The concert had been amazing, a full luau and the Saturday Night Special taking place right on the beach? It was easily the best performance you’d been to. Strings of hanging lights guiding you back to the hotel, you were surprised when your phone vibrated. The number wasn’t one you recognized, so you sent the call to voicemail and tucked the device back into the pocket of your waistband.

Back in the hotel room, you were just getting ready to change into something more worthy of lounging around the room in, when your phone vibrated again.

It was the same number as earlier.

Glancing at the time in the top right corner of the screen, and, seeing it was nearing eleven-thirty - you sent the call to voicemail once again. The device had just hit the bedspread when it went off for a third time.

This time, it was a text:

UNK: "Why aren't you answering your phone?"

Quickly typing out a reply, you were stepping out of your skirt and trying to juggle your phone in the other hand. Knowing if you tried to set it down, it'd be only to pick it up again moments later.

[Y/F/N]: Maybe because I don't know who this is and it's almost midnight? I think you have the wrong number…

Almost instantly, the person responded:

Unk: Do you make it a habit of handing out your number to strange men?

[Y/F/N]: I'm almost positive you've got the wrong number, because, no, I don't give my number to jus--

A cold prickle blossomed out over the back of your neck, your fingers suddenly still - mid-sentence.

[Y/F/N]: ...wait…how did you get this number?

Somewhere in the background, the door to the room opened, the scrape of the metal latch distracting you momentarily.

Your friends, brazenly stumbling into each other amid peals of laughter saw you then, sitting on the floor - one leg still stuck in your skirt.

Perspiration dotted your temples; where moments before you'd been perfectly comfortable. Not wanting to believe who you were talking to, the events of earlier that day came crashing into you all at once.

You'd only given your phone number to one person today…

Another alert came through. Startled you dropped the phone to land with a quiet thud on the plush grey carpet.

Tentatively, you reached out - one finger tracing your lock screen pattern, the new message filling the available space.

Unk: Pretty sure I pried it from your vice-like grip right around lunchtime today...

"Bullshit! You see?! I TOLD you!"

Violet had glanced down to read the words about the same time you had, a wide grin lighting up her face. Meanwhile, you were too stunned to say anything, much less respond.

After several minutes, the screen lit up once more - the vibration muffled by the carpet on which it still sat.

Unk: Did you turn into a pumpkin?

Unk: Oh. It's after midnight…

Unk: Guess I'll leave you alone now. Sleep well, uh...huh - don't know your name either..

Gingerly, you lifted the phone and began to write:

[Y/F/N]: Not a pumpkin, just in shock.

Apparently Rob had no interest in letting you sleep though, as a new barrage of messages came through.

Unk: Why are you in shock?

You went on to explain it was all his fault. You hadn't expected him to actually call you.

Unk: Well...I mean, wasn't that your intention? Why else would you give someone your number?

Unk: My thumbs are tired. Wanna get a drink or something?

A small, helpless noise fell from your lips as the last text came through. Wide-eyed, you looked up at Violet and the others, as if questioning what you should do; knowing full well what they were going to say.

"If you don't accept his offer - right now - I'm gonna do it for you."

Olivia, the quietest of the trio, fixed you with a stare - her intense blue eyes fixated on yours.

Reluctantly, if only because you were still in complete disbelief, you accepted his offer.

Fixing your skirt as you stood, you weren't completely sure what to do next. Was the bar still open this late?

"Breathe [Y/F/N], you've got this, this is fine.."

Muttering to yourself, you checked your appearance in the mirror. With a final deep breath, you pulled the door to the room open, glancing back over your shoulder at the three people who'd gotten you into this mess to begin with.

One last text came through just then. A simple number the only contents: "2516"

Realizing the man had just given you his room number without so much as a second thought, you began to wonder if this was a regular thing for him. As giddy as you were to be receiving the attention you so desperately craved, it was still a sobering thought.

Rob's room was ten floors above your own, and the higher the elevator climbed, the more anxious you were becoming. Being stuck in your own head likely wouldn't make for a very good time, and you did your best to focus on the present.

The quiet hush of the doors as they slid shut behind you was the only sound on the seemingly abandoned floor.

Straight ahead, a gleaming plaque attached to the wall directed you to the left. As welcoming and well-lit as the entryway had been, the corridors stretching in both directions were lit only with the soft glow of wall sconces. Spaced approximately ten feet from each other, you were lost in their illumination until a quiet voice grabbed your attention.

"Hey [Y/F/N].."

The way your name sounded on his lips had you stopping short. Barefoot, Rob stepped from his room to greet you.

"C'mon in for a sec, I've just gotta grab a couple things."

Holding the door open, you squeezed by him, the space between the two of you a lot less than you'd have imagined. For being a smaller person, his body still framed the doorway almost completely.

Curious as to what the plan was with it being well-past midnight, you hovered quietly just inside the door, watching as the man grabbed his phone and wallet from the dresser, crossing the floor to shut off the light in the bathroom.

The lamps to either side of the king-sized bed were dimmed, throwing heavy shadows around the room as he approached. Smiling, he reached towards you. Bypassing your waist, his fingers closed around the door handle and he pulled it open, gesturing for you to go ahead. Suddenly thankful for the dim lighting, you slunk into the hallway - silently berating yourself for thinking he had ulterior motives.

"So, [Y/F/N], I figured we'd head up to the roof - have a couple drinks? Should be pretty quiet, does that sound okay?"

"Uh, yeah. That-that sounds great."

The two of you walked down the hall together in comfortable silence. Or maybe all the questions that swirled through your mind was enough of a distraction that you didn't think to speak.

At the end of the hallway, a stairwell waited behind a heavy, steel door.

Leaning against the handle, you held the door for Rob and the two of you climbed the five flights to the top of the building; your weight on the cement stairs echoing throughout the confined space.

A tropical breeze greeted you upon reaching the top and wandering out onto the roof. You'd expected it to be fairly bare, perhaps a couple of benches to sit on and some lanterns. Instead, you were pleasantly surprised. Long sofas were gathered together with chairs and large tables, soft strings of lights hanging gracefully around the perimeter. One corner held a full bar, tall chairs arranged neatly in front of it.

Leading you over to one of the couches, Rob gestured for you to sit while he ambled toward the bar.

Reclining in the corner, you grabbed a pillow and put it in your lap - something you'd always done since you were a kid. Curling your legs up beneath you, you looked up at the canopy hanging overhead; huge swaths of tangerine, plum and sky blue fabric decorating the iron frame.

"So, [Y/F/N], what'll it be?" Rob still had his back turned, but called out over his shoulder as he perused the various bottles.

Shrugging and then realizing he couldn't see your reaction, you told him to surprise you.

Turning to face you with a bottle of bourbon clutched in one hand, he began to chat while pouring the dark liquid into short glasses.

"This your first visit to Hawaii?" Extending one hand, Rob gave you a glass and sat next to you.

"Mhm. You?" Bringing your lips to the edge, you took a sip of the drink, closing your eyes in bliss as it warmed your insides.

Three drinks in, and you were no longer nervous.

"So, how exactly did you find out my name?"

Raising one eyebrow in interest, you stared at the man sprawled out next to you. At some point over the course of the last hour, Rob had reclined on the couch, his legs stretched out and tangled in yours.

Neither of you seemed to care, and it was comfortable enough of a position to be in.

Even at nearly two in the morning, the light breeze coming in off the ocean was warm; playing with tendrils of your hair as it danced around your face.

"I, uh, I might've asked around." "Seems like you frequent these events pretty often Ms. [Y/L/N]."

Shrugging nonchalantly, you went back to sipping your drink.

"So, I do." "Who told you?"

"Chris." Rob looked up to gauge your reaction.

Nodding, you made a mental note to thank your favorite photographer the next time you saw him.

Emptying the remainder of your glass, you set it on the table, gripping the edge of the couch to help steady your movements.

Leaning back against the canvas cushions, you decided then to see if you could get Rob to give you a straight answer about your earlier question.

"And why did you decide to call me?" "And don't say 'because you gave me your number' - cause I can't be the only girl that's ever done such a thing."

Scrutinizing his half-lidded expression while you awaited his answer, you became lost in the color of his eyes and almost didn't hear his response.

"Actually, pretty much for that very reason. You seemed terrified, and yet you still had the balls to hand me that slip of paper."

"I'd actually forgotten that I had it until just before I called. Everyone had decided to go out for a late dinner, but for some reason - I just wasn't feelin' it. I was clearing out my pockets and remembered it was there."

"Besides, I think you're cute."

Pretty sure you were hearing things, you shook off the small glimmer of hope that immediately sprang to life.

You'd been listening to him talk, just enjoying spending time with him, not expecting anything to come of it aside from some really great stories.

Feeling a shift in Rob's movements, your eyes flicked to his when he clambered from the couch, stumbling only the slightest amount as he disentangled his legs from yours.

Reaching out to take your hand, he helped you into a standing position. Somehow, likely because you were naturally uncoordinated, you threw your other arm out to catch yourself when you tripped over your own feet. Catching you with one arm around your waist, the other still clutching your hand - Rob stilled, staring at you from the mere inches that separated your bodies.

Slowly releasing your hand, Rob brought his palm up to cup your cheek.

"Would it be okay if I kissed you right now?"

His words were hushed, the grip around your waist pulling your body to align with his.

Not trusting yourself to speak, you simply nodded.

The kiss was the barest brush of his lips against yours, but as your fingers carded themselves into the fine hair at the base of his neck and moved up to twist in the dark curls, it quickly moved past chaste into something hungrier.

Rob groaned, leaning into your touch - tightening his hold around your waist.

Pulling back from the kiss, you turned, placing one hand in the center of Rob's chest to push him towards the couch.

Easily getting the hint, he flopped back against the cushions, drawing you down to sit in his lap as his lips found yours once again.

Struggling against the material of your skirt, you reluctantly broke from the kiss a second time, this time standing to adjust the strips of material clustered around your legs. Gripping a handful of fabric on each side, you stepped forward, straddling Rob's lap, the soft layers of material fanning out around you.

"God damn, [Y/F/N]. Are you sure you want to do this?"

His breath heavy, Rob's hands tentatively rested at your waist, his pupils blown wide with lust.

In response, you rolled your hips into his, your bottom lip caught between your teeth. Heat flooded your body when you felt him responding to your touch; his grip tightening to pull you harder against his growing erection.

Threading his fingers in your hair, he pulled your mouth to his. There was nothing gentle about this kiss - all teeth and tongue and biting, his fingers accidentally caught in your hair, pulling a sharp cry from your lips.

"Shit, I'm sor--"

Rob's voice trailed off as he realized that the noises you'd made weren't from pain.

His eyes darkened then, a slow smile replacing his worry.

"Ahh...it's like that is it?" An almost sinister grin spread out over Rob's features while his hand tangled itself back in your locks, the callused tips of his fingers trailing along your scalp.

A sharp intake of breath had your eyes fluttering shut in bliss with the sudden, sharp tug of your hair. Tilting your head to one side, his grip didn't loosen until his lips were moving along the curve of your neck.

Pants straining, Rob broke from your neck when your fingers closed around his thigh. Looking to him for permission, when his hand closed over your fingers and moved them up over his cock, you knew exactly where this night was going to lead.

Moving your other hand from where it rested against his chest, your eyes remained fixed on his while you moved to unbuckle the wide strip of leather encircling his waist.

Fingers danced along his waistband for a moment, stroking along the sprinkling of hair that disappeared beneath the denim.

Sliding your hand over his boxers, your fingers wrapping around his generous erection, you grinned to yourself as Rob sucked in a sharp breath, his head falling back in pleasure at your touch.

Shifting down into the cushions a little more gave you easier access to pull Rob from the confines of his jeans, your mouth beginning to water at the thought of him sliding across your tongue.

"[Y/F/N], you don't hav-- ooh fuucckkk…"

Your mouth closed over the thick head of his cock, humming in pleasure at the velvet texture of him.

Concentrating on licking circles and careless patterns across his soft skin, you smoothed hands up his thighs, fingers running over the hip bones that had driven you crazy since day one.

"You are so fucking beautiful.."

Rolling your eyes up to stare at him from beneath your dark lashes, you continued to take him into your mouth. Backing off each time before taking him even further on the next pass, soon your nose nestled against the warm skin of his belly, his cock filling your throat. Robs hips rose and fell in time with your ministrations, his hands combing through your hair, eyebrows furrowed in concentration.

As his thrusts began to lose their rhythm, his grip on your scalp tightened, you knew he was close. Humming in satisfaction, the vibrations coursing through your body was too much. Pulling you away, the saliva pooling beneath your tongue coated your lips, and a whine of discontent at the sudden interruption had you glancing up to see if something was wrong.

"You keep that up, I'm not gonna last much longer." "C'mere sweetheart."

Rob helped you sit up, his fingers laced in yours as you straddled his lap once again.

Fingers dancing across the thin panties beneath your skirt, he groaned at the dampness coating the lacy material.

Wrapping his fists in either side, a sharp tug had the seams splitting and he threw them to the side; his hands moving to your hips, the grip bruising.

Brushing fingers through your soaked folds, he made short work of lining himself up and pushing into your body, filling you perfectly in one long stroke.

Hesitating for only a moment, he immediately lifted and slammed your body back down onto his, your clit brushing against his pelvis as he did so.

Digging nails into his shoulders, you lowered your mouth to his neck, testing the flesh with your teeth, a heavy groan of pleasure slipping from your lips.

His hands trailed along your ribs, running up over your breasts as he buried his face between them. Setting his teeth in the space of your cleavage, Rob bit down - hard - one hand traveling back down to rub over your clit. Small, sure circles across the sensitive bundle of nerves combined with the increasing pace of his thrusts had you panting with need.

"Fuck Rob, just..I'm gonna…" rolling your hips against his palm, you could feel the flames in your belly fanning out to lick along the rest of your body, pleasure building in waves.

"What's that baby? Tell me what you want...what do you need?" "Fuck, you look god-damned gorgeous, taking my cock just like that..."

Rob's voice was a growl, the filthy words falling from his lips adding fuel to those flames.

"That's it, you gonna come for me? Open those pretty eyes, I wanna watch you fall apart..."

Slowing his hips to an agonizingly slow pace, Rob shifted just enough to where you could see as he slid in and out of your body. Breathing ragged, his thrusts methodical, Rob's fingers began to move against your clit, the pressure and speed steadily increasing until you were squirming, right on the edge of falling over that cliff, on the edge but not quite there.

"Please, Rob, fuck .."

Leaning in you crushed your lips to his, moving to pepper his neck with open mouthed kisses. Moving from his pulse point up, along the curve of his neck, and around to his ear - a needy string of expletives and nails biting into the muscles of his back had him groaning under his breath. Redoubling his efforts, his thrusts turned aggressive once more, his fingers speeding up. As slick coated your thighs you finally fell over the edge with a shout - Rob following almost immediately afterwards, his warmth filling your belly.

Collapsing against his chest, his fingers dancing in lazy circles over your back - you closed your eyes and sighed.

Right now, you didn't need to think about what came next, or what any of this meant. Right now, you were content to just be, the warm ocean breeze bringing with it the smell of the tropics.

TAGS: @natasha-cole @jamielea81 @wings-of-a-raven

#WildeFiction #Rob x Reader #SPN x RPF #spnkinkbingo

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goldenchildkatsuki · 6 years ago

Text

AFTER FOLLOWING THE PINK STRING

For the Camp Kacchako Secret Server Swap [@kacchako-server]

Writers note:

Happy server appreciation week!

This is a piece I've written for the Camp Kacchako Secret Server Swap. Using the prompt "We're not friends, but we're not not friends".

For Milk. I hope you enjoy.

Word count: 6.920

AO3 link: (x)

Bakugou gripped a fist full of sheets and pulled them over his head. He wiggled his legs, crawling closer to the wall side of his bed. Eyes shut tightly and hunched into himself. He refused to answer to his father.

He heard the floorboards near his bed creak and the presence of his father looming over him.

"Katsuki, let's not be difficult now, shall we? We're going to be late," his father pleaded as he put a hand on the lump of covers and shook him lightly, "I can guarantee it's going to be a lot of fun," the smile he had on his face melted into the tone of his voice.

No matter how endearing his father tried to sound, Bakugou couldn't imagine a birthday party for a ten-year-old being ‘a lot of fun'. Therefore he would much rather stay in bed and sleep in until decent hours of the day. Until three or so.

Why did his parents have to be so difficult? Yesterday was one of his rare days off and he spent it back at home with the few middle school friends he could still stand. And of course, it got late. They hadn't properly spoken in what seemed like a lifetime. There seemed no end to their conversations, everyone had something to say and he bet that at the end of the night not everything was said.

At the moment he was desperately avoiding a social gathering running on five hours of sleep. His parents were more than aware of that, weren't even upset about him coming home late since they understood the circumstances, or so he thought. Somewhere in the middle of the night his parents changed their mind and didn't even think twice about letting him lay in and bringing a piece of cake back from the party.

Bakugou knew if he kept clinging to his covers and grumbling blunt responses his father would've eventually given in to his stubbornness.

"Katsuki Bakugou, when I come into that room you better be in a goddamn dress shirt or we're going to have a problem!"

But his mother wouldn't.

He rolled his eyes, threw his covers off his head to look at his father who was awkwardly cackling into his hand.

"How mad will she get if I wear the shirt and get back into bed?" Bakugou asked, seriously considering it.

His father's cackling turned into full-on laughter. "On a scale from one to ten? A nine."

"Masaru!"

The two boys both jumped and tensed up.

"Stop dawdling around, that boy should've been up and ready fifteen minutes ago! Do you want us to be late too? God, it's too early to have a headache!"

The man stood up and patted his pants clean. "Make that an eleven. Katsuki, for the love of everything, just get dressed." His voice now more desperate than endearing. He rushed out of the room, trying to calm his wife down as she continued yelling their neighbors out of bed.

Now the slightest chance of him having a quiet day, with the house all to himself, was completely gone. Accepting that there was no way out of this, Bakugou dragged himself out of bed and walked to the chair at his desk. His mother had laid out clothes for him, they were items from his father's latest collection and God was it too fancy for the occasion.

His mother was still trying to impress her sister huh?

That was realistically what all this was about. His mother trying to outshine her obnoxiously well-put together and practically overly-wealthy sister. And since they were very responsible adults -- and also parents -- they couldn't just put their rivalry to rest by screaming in each other's faces and yanking at each other's hair. No of course not. As the very responsible adults and parents they were they had to keep the fight things out by hosting lavish parties, bringing the better dish to serve at them, bragging about their family's achievements, and always go to every family function with husband and kids looking clean-cut and obviously arriving on time at so said function.

Bakugou lifted up the parts of his outfit one by one.

"Really? Fucking suspenders?" He mumbled to himself.

Face twisted with disgust, he released a clothing item from in between his two fingers and reluctantly shuffled to the bathroom. In the shower, he almost fell back asleep again as he was resting his head against the wall instead of properly showering. A loud bang of a door being slammed somewhere around the house forced him to yank himself out of his tiredness. Bakugou then quickly finished up, dried himself and got dressed.

He pulled at almost every part of his outfit coming down the stairs now feeling the discomfort he sensed when he first saw the outfit laying on his chair. Bakugou met his father putting on a necklace around his mother's neck as she was rambling on.

And occasional ‘yes, dear' and ‘it'll be fine, honey' came from the man as he struggled with the tiny chain.

"…I couldn't believe she didn't tell me Yu had found the time to come home. We're going to look so awful when we have nothing for her!"

Bakugou stopped adjusting his tie and looked up. "Wait, Yu is coming?"

His mother sighed. "Yes, now try to find a card in the office. That's the least we could do."

With not a single complaint Bakugou did as he was told, his spirits now much higher. It had been a while since he had seen his cousin Yu. He had seen Mt. Lady more than enough, since the up and coming heroine was climbing through the ranks like crazy. But it had definitely been a stupid amount of time since she ridiculed him until they were fighting like children on the playground. How annoying she could be, she was the only one he would even consider talking to at family gatherings. Yu was the closest thing he had to a peer in the family. Bonus points because she was the only one in the family beside him that couldn't get more bored by extravagant parties. And besides talking shit they could talk about interesting things such as heroics and the tv shows they both happened to watch.

As he looked for a card in one of the drawers in the office he caught himself smiling. Things were not going to be a snooze fest after all. Amidst the countless amount of papers and stationary Bakugou found a card and brought it back to his mother who was now pacing up and down the kitchen. His father stood in the hallway, jingling his car keys. It seemed like he couldn't have come back any sooner because both adults were extremely on edge. Bakugou handed his mother the card and a pen and walked over to his father to wait for her to write something too incredibly cheesy into it. In a matter of seconds, she was done and rushed her family out of the house and into the car by violently waving her hands around.

The drive was long. Long enough for him to take a nap, but the forty minutes of shut-eye barely did anything to him. Made him even drowsier when he got woken up by his father. When Bakugou opened his eyes he was already surrounded by festivities. Big silver and blue balloons everywhere, flags and garlands decorating the high, fresh cut, green hedges. In the front garden children with eyepatches and swords were chasing each other and getting their fancy attire dirty by falling over and rolling in the grass.

Bakugou stepped out of the car and wiped the drool away from the corners of his mouth. His mother noticed and walked over to him, way faster than a woman in heels, in gravel should. She straightened his collar and slicked his hair back as much as she possibly could. Too tired the fight off the woman's grooming he simply scowled at her. When his mother was done she took him by the shoulders.

"What are we going to do today?" She asked like she always did before any social event.

"Behave and enjoy ourselves," Bakugou answered her.

His mother nodded, "And what are we not going to do?"

"Compliment Aunt Takeyama's food. Only eat half of it and then throw the rest in the trash."

The woman smiled and patted her son's shoulder. "That's my boy! Alright, let's get going," she walked over to her husband, clamped to his arm and started walking to the open front door where his aunt was standing. Bakugou buried his hands in his pockets and dragged his feet behind his parents. He turned around to roll his eyes at his mother putting on the most plastic smile to greet her sister and talk about how beautifully she decorated the whole place. Only turned back around when he heard his aunt call out his name.

"Oh Katsuki, you get more handsome every time I see you!"

Before he could come up with an answer that wasn't along the lines of ‘fucking spare me woman' he got smothered by Takeyama, who wagged him from to side as she did. Loosely he wrapped his arms around the woman's back. When she stepped back she ruffled through his hair.

It was like he was in a damn petting zoo.

Bakugou shut an eye as the woman was rough with his hair and it made her laugh.

"Mitsuki dear, what did I say about doing unnecessary things to his hair? You're taking away some of his charm!" Takeyama leaned closer to Bakugou. "They love making you a walking advertisement for the design company don't they?" Before Bakugou could even make a face she stood up straight and laughed until she had to wipe away a tear.

His mother was definitely not going to be in a good mood the whole day, the way her left eye was twitching meant danger and that anyone that valued their life should stay as many miles as possible away from her.

It probably took her all her might but without saying a word to her sister she walked into the mansion, dragging her husband along with her by the arm. Bakugou sighed at the sorry sight of the adults and followed them into the house. The inside of the mansion was packed with people, mostly children. Small, hyperactive and loud children. For fuck sakes, he knew it was a pirate themed birthday party but was it really necessary to run around the house screaming ‘Arrr!' and ‘yo ho!', almost stepping on his feet in the process?

This has got to be one of the worst parties they have ever been to. Bakugou now understood the adults that would groan and say ‘I need a drink'. It seemed like there was no other way to actually enjoy this mess anyways. When he saw his mother come across a family member she actually could stand he decided to part from his parents and go to the kitchen where Yu most likely was, downing prosecco's like it was her twentieth birthday.

Bakugou waded his way into the kitchen, snatching a very fitting, pirate-themed snack from the island and shoving it into his mouth. He pushed through the mass that was standing around the food and almost fell into the other end of the kitchen. Trying not to curse he put his heel back in his loafer and looked up. He followed the legs of what seemed to be a girl. His eyes kept trailing from the outskirts of her white dress, up to her red band around her small waist to her collarbones. He felt his cheeks and ears getting warmer as he sized the girl up. When he reached her face he choked on the saliva he had to swallow down.

"Uraraka?!"

"Bakugou?!"

The girl almost dropped her glass of orange juice out of her hand, a bit spilling over the glass and onto her hands. Bakugou luckily shot forwards and could just about catch the glass with her. His hands covered hers and as soon as he realized that his skin was in direct contact with hers he took three large steps back.

"What the hell are you doing here?" He yelled at her.

She put her glass down on the counter behind her and wiped her hands on a dishtowel. "What am I doing here? W-w-what are you doing here?" Uraraka stammered.

A question as simple as that he couldn't answer straight away. Bakugou was still trying to wrap his head around the fact that she was standing right there, in his aunt's kitchen. He didn't even know Uraraka that well, how was it possible that she was invited to a party his family was hosting?

Bakugou knew he always wanted someone his actual age at these kinds of things but did it really have to be her? Someone he only knew because they had mutual friends? Which was the only reason they came into contact in the first place.

His friend Kirishima had stayed in good contact with his middle school friends, unlike Bakugou. One of those middle school friends happened to be Ashido Mina, who attended an all-girl hero school. Kirishima often dragged Bakugou along with him when he was meeting up with her. If it was for the sake of helping Bakugou be less antisocial or if it was for emotional support as he was sure Kirishima had some kind of crush on the girl, he had no idea. But almost every week, he stood there in the arcade that met in the middle of their schools.

And sometimes with Kaminari who also managed to get himself roped up in the mess. But most of the time the guy was too busy talking to the girl at the gift shop or the guy waiting tables and Bakugou was left alone with the friend Ashido dragged along with her; Uraraka Ochako.

When that occurred more than anyone wanted, Uraraka made an attempt talking to him. But they could never hold up a conversation. The longest conversation they had was about school and that lasted about a solid three minutes. Truth be told, Bakugou didn't care to pay that much attention to her to keep up the conversation. During their awkward small talk, Bakugou would mostly glare at Kirishima, inaudibly demanding him to hurry up trying to woo Ashido.

Because of the lack of attention he paid to her he barely had an idea who she was exactly, but he sure as well knew she wasn't a relative.

But Bakugou still had to ask.

"Don't tell me we're-"

"-No!" She cut him off. "Definitely not!"

"Then what are you…?"

Out of nowhere Bakugou got gripped by the wrist and dragged back through the mass of people. He tried to pull away before he stumbled over his feet but the grip was strong. He prayed to God it wasn't his mother making him meet several people he didn't have any interest in. Once out of the kitchen he got pinned to a wall.

"Finally, I was looking everywhere for you!"

"Yu, what the fuck? You know you could just fucking pardon me, you know, like a normal person?"

The girl dragged one of the cabinets in the hall opposite him, pushed a couple of things aside and jumped on it. She let out a satisfied sigh and swung her legs in the air, letting her feet take a break from the ridiculously high heels she was most likely forced to wear.

Bakugou couldn't help himself from laughing at the sight.

He huffed. "I see you're also having a great time."

Slowly the heroine lifted her head and stared angrily at him. "Are you kidding me? I'm having an awful time! Have you seen these?" Yu pointed at her heels. "Mom is making me run around in those hellish things and take care of this party turned into a freaking daycare."

Bakugou folded his arms and smirked at his cousin. "You can say ‘screw that' now that I'm here. What do you say we go trip up some kids and bet on which aunt is going to get inappropriately drunk first?"

To his surprise, Yu's expression didn't clear up. Instead, her glare turned a frown. She groaned as she rubbed the heel of her foot. "I wish I could say ‘screw that' but mom says if I don't help the party go smoothly she's cutting off my extra funds. Do you know how quiet it has been lately? I have barely done any hero work this month. I need every penny I can get."

The boy was about to counter his cousin, not taking Yu's moaning or her mother's threats seriously but stopped himself from speaking as he heard the furious clicking of heels above the loudly speaking guests.

"Goodness, where have all the raspberries gone! And this white wine isn't cold. We need ice. We need more ice! Yu!"

Bakugou was about to swallow his words. He recognized that tone all too well. To the guests, it might sound like it's nothing harmful. But relatives from his mother's side could hear it. The menacing undertone that was hidden underneath a voice as sweet as honey. His aunt really wasn't screwing around this time.

Yu flinched, jumped back on her feet and crawled behind Bakugou. The gigantification hero trying to make herself small behind him, how ironic. When the violent clicking of the heels faded and no one called her presence out, she went to stand in front of Bakugou.

"I have to take care of that as well? I can't take it. I still have an entire freaking treasure hunt game to host. I need to get people to play, I need to make teams, I need…" Slowly Yu's gaze drifted from Bakugou's eyes to over his shoulder. Bakugou followed her eyes and saw her looking at Uraraka who was still standing at the kitchen counter.

"Wait, do you know that girl you were talking to earlier?"

"Hah?"

Bakugou's cousin didn't even wait for him to confirm before waving the girl over, hissing at her as if she were a cat in an attempt to lure her over. Bakugou looked up at Yu as if she had gone mad but she ignored his perplexed face.

Uraraka peeped around the corner, wrapping her fingers around the doorpost of the kitchen. "I'm sorry, were you calling out for me?" She asked.

Takeyama nodded and took a few steps back, taking in the two. She pointed two fingers at the pair.

"Are you two friends?"

"Friends?" Bakugou and Uraraka raised their voice in unison.

They both stumbled over their words, taken by surprise by Takyama's forward ways.

"We're not!" Bakugou answered.

"I guess we are," Uraraka spoke over him.

The two turned their heads towards each other and got red in the face. Normally Yu would've been on the floor laughing, clutching her stomach and gasping for air after seeing Bakugou embarrassed like that but she kept staring at them, desperately waiting for them to elaborate the miscommunication.

Bakugou furrowed his brow. "We're not friends," Bakugou said, more asked, trying to confirm with Uraraka.

"Erm, actually we aren't friends no, but we're also not not friends. We have mutual friends so I thought I could refer to you as, erm…A friend," she explained whilst scratching the side of her head.

Bakugou blinked at Uraraka, trying to make sense of what she had just told him. Takeyama seemed to think that the girl's explanation was more than enough to continue her scheming. Satisfied she clapped her hands together.

"Right! I'm going to put you two in a team for the String Treasure Hunt. Man, if mom sees I got mister grouchy pants over here to participate then she'll be over the moon!"

"Grouchy? That's rich coming from you. And who says I want to participate anyway?"

Yu put on her one in a million menacing grin and loomed over him like she loomed over tall buildings in the city when fighting crime. She laid a finger on his chest and pressed down. "Because I said so. I already did you a favor by putting you in a team with a lovely girl instead of…"

She tilted her head towards the living area where children were screaming, tugging at each other and wiping their grubby hands on the tablecloths.

"Now you're going to go on the hunt. Oh, and I dare you to get difficult with me," she cackled maniacally. "I dare you to get difficult with me after all this anger I built up after running around in these stupid shoes for hours, see where that will get you."

Bakugou kept glaring at Yu, hoping that it would somehow change her mind but the woman was seriously dead set on getting him to play along. In the corner of his eye, he saw looking at the two, quietly fidgeting with the lace that hung over her white skirt.

He sighed deeply and then pushed Yu's finger off his chest. He did know better than causing a scene at a party, especially in front of someone who was only now really getting to know him. If he would bite back at Yu like he normally would then his mother won't let him hear the last of it.

"Fine."

Uraraka's face lit up a little and she flashed him a modest smile. "Maybe it'll be fun."

The boy clicked his tongue and pushed past the two ladies and lazily waved at them as he walked off. "Let me know when you're done, I'll be mentally preparing myself in a corner," he said to his cousin expecting for the preparations to take a while but the heroine managed to put pep in her step. Yu was strutting around the mansion faster than he ever imagined she could with all those blisters. Bakugou felt like he hadn't sat down for a minute or Yu had already dragged him off a chair in the sitting area.

As he tried to struggle against her grip, his cousin took him to the living area where different color strings were strung around, forming a vibrant spiderweb. The kids had taken off their eyepatches and ogled at, what Bakugou had to admit, the impressive game Yu had set up. Pretty good for someone that actually couldn't give two shits.

Uraraka was just as impressed as the kids were, fawning to Yu over the ‘amazing set up' with the lightest blush on her face. The girl had to be careful, she had no idea how quickly praise could go to Yu's head. As a matter of fact, it was already happening. Bakugou could tell by the way she laughed the compliments off.

"Can we start already?" Bakugou interrupted the two girls.

The kids chimed in, erupting in cheers. Immediately Yu's mood soured.

"Alright!" She shouted above the noise. "Little pirates."

Bakugou cocked his eyebrow at her.

"I'm going to keep it simple. You and your sailor buddy are going to hunt for treasure. Pick a string. Follow it and the first person to get to the end will get a prize."

Yu was barely halfway through her explanation or the children were already grabbing onto the string with the color they admired the most. She let down her front and blew the stray blonde strands out of her face as she glowered at the overexcited children. Bakugou shrugged and reached his hand out to grab hold of a string only for it to be slapped away.

"Ow! What the hell?!"

His cousin handed him a pink string. "You two are getting this one. It's a little more complicated so you don't win," she explained. She then noticed that the children had already started the hunt, without her start signal and pinched the bridge of her nose.

"Now, just go," Yu said before falling on the couch behind her.

Bakugou wrapped his hand around the pink string and looked back at Uraraka who tried to check if his cousin was okay.

"Let's get this over with," he told her.

After giving one quick look back at Yu, Uraraka nodded and followed him as he followed the string. Though their start was a little delayed they kept bumping into children. Children that had taken the game too seriously and cursed ‘like sailors' at him for getting in the way of their hunt. Bakugou had to bury his nails into the palm of his hand to control his urge not to kick those brats into next week. Faster he started pulling at the string and he managed to get out of the web and sea of annoying children, relatively quickly. No one's paths crossed with other hunters anymore and in a matter of a few pulls, Bakugou and Uraraka found themselves completely separated from any string but their own.

When Yu she was going to make it a little more complicated, she was really wasn't fucking kidding. It was absolutely ridiculous. They had been to almost every corner of the mansion's gigantic first floor and as if it couldn't get any more stupid they actually managed to end up outside.

Uraraka had sensed that he was becoming tenser by the minute and has said a few things here and there to lighten the mood. What she exactly said Bakugou couldn't make out because he couldn't hear it over his own complaints.

"How did she even have the time to go all the way to here?!"

"We're so fucking far out I can barely hear people talking, this is stupid!"

"Who even needs this big of a garden?!"

A string of curses escaped his mouth as he saw the string disappear into a high hedge. He tugged at the string and felt like they weren't close to the end, there were at least a couple of meters left to chase. Upon finding that out, he had run out of patience.

Playtime was over.

Fuck strolling, he was going to dash to the end, even if he had to yank Uraraka with him.

Bakugou aggressively pushed his body through the hedge. His right foot touching a small ledge which he then too confidently slipped too far ahead. His heart skipped a beat as he fell through the hedge and saw that beneath him was the old pond, disgustingly green from the lack of maintenance. Bakugou squeezed his eyes shut and waited for the impact of the water as he came to terms that there was no way he could twist, turn or step to regain his balance.

Suddenly he felt pull at his arm, so hard it could've popped his shoulder out of its place and he got pushed with his back against the hedge. Bakugou had only opened his eyes for a second but just in time to see Uraraka fly face first into the pond and get indulged entirely by the green algae.

"Damn it!" Bakugou barked and jumped into the water without thinking.

With his arms, he waved around to find Uraraka in the thick sludge until his lungs shrunk small. When he started to get lightheaded he jerked his hair out of the water. Hurriedly he tried to fill up his lungs again, with the palms of his hands he cleared his face and upon opening, he saw the girl standing right in front of him.

The adrenaline slowly left his body and he stood up straight, the water only going up to his chest.

"I also thought it was deeper," Uraraka reassured, giggling when she did.

Bakugou looked around him. The water felt even more disgusting than it looked. His clothes were definitely ruined. More importantly, so were hers. She should've just let him fall in. That's what he would've done in her case. Only now it hit him how he hadn't been the most fun person to be around.

Like him, she had most likely been dragged here against her will and put in the middle of a bunch of snobby lunatics. Even dressed exceptionally nice only for it to go to waste because of his impatient ass.

You would think all her efforts had gone to waste. But she still looked particularly appealing. Which was kind of baffling, honestly?

Bakugou wasn't blind. He had noticed her alluring features before.

But the fact that they were still able to shine through underneath all that yuck she was covered in?

Yes, it really was baffling.

He reached his hand out and took the lily pad that had been sulking on her head. Bakugou watched his own movements and he slid the lily pad off her head and her giggling faded. Thankfully she bowed her head a little. He noticed more things were stuck in her hair and reached out again to get a few things out of her hair that was already starting to tangle. Careful not to pull any of her hairs too hard he continued to pick out the pond's dirt.

After some time she lifted her head making his fingers slide along the frame off her face. Her eyes met his and he noticed the bright gleam in them.

"Thank you, Bakugou."

Bakugou could feel a violent tug at his heartstrings which sent the fibers in his body into a panic. He turned away from her and went with his hand through his wet spikes.

"It's like she forgot how she got in here in the first place. Isn't she going to get mad or something?" He whispered to himself against his shoulder.

The girl waded closer to him and cocked her head. "Did you say something there?"

"I said we should get out of here." Bakugou lied.

Together they started wading out of the waters of the pond. Bakugou lifted himself back up the thin ledge carefully stood up. He then lent a hand to Uraraka and helped her out. Both of them were leaking guck and looked and smelled like wet dogs.

"Can we maybe..?" Uraraka questioned, gesturing to her clothing.

"Get a towel? Of course, I'm not trying to catch a cold either." Bakugou mumbled as he took out his dress shirt from within his shirt and wrangled the water out of it.

He led the way back from the neglected parts of the back garden to the side of the house. Bakugou was well aware that if he entered through the big slide doors and dirtied Aunt Takeyama's marble floor his mother and his aunt were going to join forces to scold the hell out of him. So he chose to go through a back door instead. Behind it a staircase that would lead to the second floor.

Bakugou opened the door and stuck his head around the corner, making sure it was actually an abandoned corner of the house as it was supposed to be. Fortunately, it was and he sneaked Uraraka to the second floor with him.

He hadn't been on the second floor for a hot minute. The last time was when he was half his age and he had to sleep over at his aunt's house when his parent's company was starting to really thrive and they had to go abroad to some sort of Fashion Week. Since then, obviously, a lot had changed. Somehow the interior had gotten whiter and the family added more unnecessary expensive interior.

"Wait here," he told Uraraka.

Bakugou looked down at their feet and saw that they were already starting to create a puddle on the white floorboards. Since they couldn't be gone for too long he couldn't have the water all across the second floor which he then had to clean up. He waited for her to nod at him and then went on the search for the bathroom, which had proven to be more difficult of a task then he anticipated. For some reason, it looked like that they somehow added doors to the second floor. Impossible of course. But the illusion sure sent his mind spinning. Bakugou kept opening doors hoping that he didn't have to walk around for much more and just stumble upon the bathroom.

Eventually, he didn't find what he was looking for, but it was good enough. He found the washing room which also served as a storage room for the towels. He grabbed two of the largest towels he could find, threw one over his head and the other over his shoulder. With a relieved sigh he turned out of the laundry room and saw that the second floor was empty.

"Uraraka?!" He hissed.

God damn it, so he wasn't imagining the echo of floorboards creaking and doors opening. As he tried to make his feet light as feathers he tried to rush over to the spot where he left her. Halfway Bakugou came to a halt as he noticed an open door and saw Uraraka sitting on her knees. He squeezed himself between the small slit the door and the doorframe and slowly put the door in its lock.

"What the fuck are you doing here?!" He tried to keep himself from yelling as he crouched down next to her.

Uraraka held up a disc cover of a game in front of his face. "I can't believe they have all "The Hoodlums" games here! These are classics!

Bakugou shook his head as if he had to wake himself up from a dream before he could even try to come up with a reply she showed him another game.

"Hoodlums: Sin City. Hoodlums: The Last Bullet. Hoodlums: Burning Skyscrapers." Uraraka continued to ramble on as she flashed the disc covers in front of his face.

When she wanted to go into the box again to search for another game he lowered her hand. When he touched her it was as if I lightbulb lit up above her head. She had now realized what she was doing and understood that this was in fact, very strange.

Uraraka dropped the game she was holding and waved her hands in front of her face. "I'm sorry I-! I have a habit of wandering off, especially since I have never been in a house this big before. I never meant to actually go into a room. Oh and I swear I'm not making excuses for myself by saying it's a habit! I…Erm…Can you forgive me?"

She clapped her hands together and bowed, peeping through her lashes waiting for Bakugou to answer.

Damn, that girl didn't speak too much but when she spoke, she rambled. Again, he could barely get what she was saying. That didn't matter, however. There were other things that needed explaining.

"Wait, you actually know about all these games?" He asked.

Uraraka sat up straight again and blinked at him. "Y-yeah?" She then raised an eyebrow. "Who do you think came up with the plan to go to the arcade in the first place? I knew Mina was going to drag me along to hang out with Kirishima so I had to make sure I was going to get dragged to a place where I could at least have a little bit of fun." With the last breath she had, she blew the bangs upwards.

"But you never play any games in the arcade," Bakugou remembered.

Uraraka lowered her shoulders and let out another puff of air. "Because it's never really fun to play them on your own."

The boy opened his mouth but was then quick to close it. He stayed silent as Uraraka peered at him, confusion on her face.

Could she give him a moment? He had just now found out how much of a fucking dumbass he was. He didn't think of himself of that much of a clueless, socially-inept idiot but damn did he prove himself wrong. It made him wonder why she didn't drown him in the pond right there and then.

"…You wanted to play with me, right?"

Uraraka breathed out a laugh, "Yes."

"…But I didn't pay attention."

"Erm, unfortunately not."

That's it, the girl had gone through enough shit for one day. Bakugou took the towel off his shoulder and threw it over Uraraka's head. She pulled at the ends and wrapped herself in the towel properly.

"Come on then, let's play," Bakugou casually said.

"Huh?"

"I said let's play. Any game you want but don't complain if you fall behind." Bakugou heard Uraraka snort as he went underneath the tv and checked if the old console they needed to play the old school game with was still intact. When he confirmed it was still working he looked for two controllers and handed one to her.

Uraraka handed him "The Hoodlums: Sin City" one of the best games of the franchise. If he had to be honest, the release of that game was probably where the franchise piqued. The girl indeed had taste.

They went to sit with their back against the couch sitting in front of the tv. When they went onto the loading screen they both let out a satisfied sigh as they got hit by all kinds of nostalgia. The two turned their heads to each other and Bakugou let out a small chuckle. He started a new game, set the game to two players and went onto story mode.

Bakugou put his controller on his lap and cracked his fingers. "Like I said, don't complain if you fall behind."

"Sure."

Did he sense a little sass in her voice?

Turns out Uraraka was sassy with him and rightfully so. Watching her play the game was like watching a tutorial on Youtube. Hell, he started wondering if she didn't have anything to do with developing the game she was so familiar with it.

Bakugou knew the thought was silly but again, he couldn't help but ask.

"So, what do you parents do?" He decided not to beat around the bush.

"That's a little strange to ask especially since we're mid-shootout," Uraraka kept her eyes on the screen, biting her bottom lip as she hurriedly kept moving the joysticks around and clicking the trigger. Watching her sent shivers down his spine for some reason.

"My parent's have a construction company. My dad actually helped rebuild part of this mansion. Mister Takeyama was actually very grateful for that. They became friends I believe. When mister Takeyama heard my dad had a daughter he invited my parents and me over for the birthday party, not knowing that I was more than one and a half times older than the birthday boy."

Bakugou just hummed. No daughter of the developer of the game then. That did not explain her stupid amount of skill but it did explain how she ended up here.

He could tell that after answering his question that he should probably not ask anymore since she had leaned almost all the way forwards she was trying to concentrate that hard. Besides, he was slacking anyway. Later on, he realized that he couldn't be doing that. He had forgotten how tense the missions were the deeper you went into the story. It asked for a surprising amount of energy to defeat the gangs and their bosses that were getting tougher and tougher.

Uraraka had started to reach her limits he had noticed. Her back was back against the couch and her body was slumping. As they progressed through the story he gradually felt more of her body weight against his shoulder. Their bodies have gotten hot after sitting in the same place for so long and their heat was starting to merge together. The hottest areas on Bakugou body were his face and his shoulder, which Uraraka had now rested her head on. Between loading screens, he would peep at her from behind the towel he still had on his head.

She had stopped biting her lip and was now sort of pouting. Her cheeks were rosier than usual and one was squished against his shoulder. Her lashes batted slowly as if she could fall asleep any second from now.

Bakugou didn't dare move.

As soon as the loading screen disappeared Bakugou pressed pause and Uraraka took a while to react. Bakugou jerked his chin back a little to look at her.

"Let's take a break. I don't want you feeling asleep now."

Uraraka hummed and took her head off his shoulder. Bakugou got a thought, it shot through his mind lightning fast.

He actually didn't mind having her so close to him.

Uraraka yawned and held her hand lazily in front of her mouth, tears formed in her eyes and for some reason, it made the corners of his mouth twitch.

"You kinda suck you know?" She continued to yawn.

"Just because you play too good for you own good." Bakugou fired back.

She flipped her hair over her shoulder, propped up her knee and rested her chin on it.

"You're fun to game with though." She whispered as if it were a secret that she was a little ashamed to even tell him.

Bakugou eyebrows perked up. "Oh?"

"Mhm."

"Then we should play games together more often." Bakugou made sure to look her in the eye as he told her that. He watched the drowsiness slightly disappear from her face as she took in what he said.

Uraraka leaned forwards. "Really?"

"Yeah…Isn't that the type of shit friends do?"

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