20:24 // ❥ New Alert! // Mark, The Sweetest Boy Alive

jaemin in a tank top 😳

{Quotes: lilyrainpoety ( insta)/ Albert Camus, The Fall/fausto melotti l'uomo costant (1936) /Gemma troy/ainslie hogarth motherthing/‘what i could never confess without some bravado’, emily palermo/ Richard siken/mohmmad darwish//painting:holy Warburton//photos: pinterest}

“Wanna feature me on your next mixtape?”

namjoon x reader (oc) genre: fluff word count: 600+

a/n: Hi lovelies! Here’s some Joon and Daisy/reader being cute and slightly obnoxious in a park during NYE. I hope you all enjoy and thanks so much for reading! :))

With your hand in your boyfriend’s, he spun you under his arm as giggles rang out from your smiling lips. Music hummed from your phone speaker in your opposite hand, Bill Withers soulful smooth voice echoing into the cold late-night air.

“And I want to be with you because you make me smile,” Namjoon sung lowly to you, causing you grin widely as he pulled you toward him, holding you close so your chest was pressed to his as he swayed you both back and forth. “Let it be me with you forever and a while,” he continued to sing as you pushed your lips to his dimpled cheek, lingering there for a moment.

The park was mostly empty as you began humming in a ultra-high pitched voice in accordance to the instrumental break in the song. Namjoon’s eyes squeezed shut as he laughed at you, dipping his face toward your neck where he nuzzled against your scarf.

“People are gonna think there’s a cat dying out here or something,” he teased as your hand wrapped around the back of his head, your fingers toying with the soft strands of his hair.

“I sound that good?” You asked with a smile, Namjoon’s chuckling continuing as he looked back to your face. “Wanna feature me on your next mixtape?” You joked, quirking your eyebrow.

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>> time stops

wc: 670 first love

“i have a question.”

jaemin hums. lolling his head to the side, he looks to where you lay on the left side of his chest, just a few centimeters away from his heart. “shoot.”

“okay,” you begin. in a sudden burst of energy you flip yourself over to press your chin against his torso, eyes wide and gleaming with excitement. “let’s say, hypothetically, you’re hiking in the woods and come across a bear—”

“what kind of bear?” he says, cutting you off prematurely. “like an actual bear or a haechan?”

you raise a brow but answer him nonetheless. “i dunno, a polar bear.”

“there’s no polar bears in the woods,” he remarks.

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“If for you I am enough, I do not mind being “nothing” for others.”

— ousia-poetica

bucket list (love triangle) - mark and haechan

summary - you have a bucket list of things you would like to do before you die.

bucket list

you rummaged through the drawer of your nightstand, tossing out old receipts, rubber bands, and other random knick-knacks that you really didn’t need but kept anyway “just in case.”

your fingers finally wrapped around a thick card-sized envelope and you yanked it out of the drawer triumphantly, instantly recognizing the pale yellow color and your name written on the outside.

a knock on the door made you spin around and instinctively hide the card behind your back. haechan opened the door, leaning casually against the doorway, and smiled gently at you in a way that made you forget you were supposed to be annoyed with him for how secretive he was.

“did you find what you were looking for?”

you nodded before walking out into the living room and sitting down on the couch. you patted the seat to you left and haechan obliged, sitting close enough that your thighs touched.

you did your best to ignore mark from where he was standing just a few feet away. he had insisted on coming with you to retrieve your belongings, for added protection and since haechan couldn’t drive.

“it’s the card my dad wrote for me when i was born,” you said quietly, your usual energy tempered. “it’s been a while since i’ve read it.”

your fingers trembled as you opened the flap of the envelope and slid the plain white card out, the only embellishment being a simple watercolor of a few hydrangeas on the front.

haechan hesitantly wrapped an arm around your waist, moving slowly and watching carefully for any signs that it would be unwelcome in the moment. he relaxed when you instinctively leaned towards him, the subtle shift in your body language not going unnoticed by mark from his position by the window.

“will you tell me about it?” haechan asked softly, seeming to have forgotten you weren’t alone.

you opened the card and ran your fingers down rook’s scrawl-like handwriting. you swallowed heavily to keep the tears stinging your eyes at bay.

“nothing to tell really, he wrote stuff about how much he loved me already and couldn’t wait to show me the world,” you said quietly, your voice breaking. you cleared your throat. “he wrote a list of things he wanted me to experience.”

you grabbed a pen from your purse and proceeded to cross out items on the list, stopping only to circle the last one.

fall in love

haechan leaned in closer, running his finger down the list of crossed out words before pausing on the last one and looking up at you quizzically.

your throat was suddenly dry. you dropped your gaze towards your lap. “jay doesn’t count,” you whispered. “that wasn’t love. my dad would want me to be with someone who loves me for me.”

haechan tilted your chin up with a finger so you were looking into his eyes again. “i hope one day i could be that someone,” haechan murmured, tucking a loose strand of your hair behind your ear.

your breath caught in your throat and you blushed under his intense glaze. “well, you’re certainly, um,” you paused and glanced away to collect yourself, making eye contact with mark inadvertently. your body tensed subconsciously, warring with itself to stay in haechan’s warmth and ignore mark’s magnetic pull.

you tore your eyes away from the pained look on mark’s face and forced a smile.

“you make it easy, haechan,” you said, your own smile growing genuinely in response to haechan’s, despite the soft bitter edge in your voice and how it cut through mark like a knife.

for the 478 request (if it's still open!!) maybe a lil bit of them growing back together? like post-fic, maybe jungkook discovers a small habit that OC does that they never did before?? and he gets :(( abt it bc omg when did that happen and OC is like when u were gone bro but like its fluffy and all?? DO I MAKE SENSE?? (It's alright either way ILY anyway<3)

478: drabble

alternatively, jungkook’s habit becomes yours too <3

[ 478 masterlist ]

Jungkook thought it was only a fluke.

“Is something the matter?” he asks worriedly, eyes strained with concern. You’re too absorbed cooing at Miso on your lap that you didn’t notice your husband staring at you the whole time.

He’s completely unfocused from the movie he’s begged for the two of you to watch instead of your own pick, mouth parting as he sees you do it again.

“No?” you tilt your head, looking equally as confused.

“Are you sure?” Jungkook questions again, rearranging his position so this time he’s the one lying down on your lap and Miso’s the one on his chest, feeling her purrs reverberate all the way to his ribs. “Then why are you playing with your wedding band?”

Oh.

You’ve been doing it a lot these days, unconsciously twisting the platinum on your finger that it catches your husband off-guard every time. He thought it was only a fluke the first time, seeing your gazed zoned out that usually happens when you’re tired from work.

“Really?” you sound just as surprised, looking down on your finger before having the urge to twist it again. In hindsight, your husband’s right — you have been playing with your ring. “It must’ve become a habit when we were on break.”

You recall having the weight of the platinum being your comfort for the month, only taking it off the very last minute before shooting starts and have someone to remind you because you were just that attached to it.

In hindsight, the habit you didn’t even know you had seems to be familiar.

“I think I picked it up from you.”

“Me?” Jungkook’s eyebrows furrow, looking down on his ring finger and just from seeing the band, he gets the urge to twist it around his finger.

He didn’t even know he’s been playing with his wedding band whenever he needed comforted or just wanted to be reminded of you in general, but now that you pointed out, it is familiar.

Jungkook chuckles, making you warm with the way he leans to your touch when you scratch his scalp.

“Oh, yeah. I think you got it from me.”

“Choose yourself this time.”

“Don’t ever write a cypher about me, I’ll cry.”

yoongi x reader (oc) genre: angst; fluff word count: 3.6K

a/n: Hi lovelies! Here’s part 2 to “I’m not walking out on you” in which Yoongi and reader/Kid get into a pretty major fight. This takes place that same night and the next day. I hope you all enjoy and thanks for reading! :)) 

Sleep doesn’t come too easy for those with the weight of two aching hearts inside their chest. The throbbing of your own heart, you could handle. But knowing you were the cause of your lover’s pain sat heavy in your mind. The look of regret, hurt, defeat that was etched across Yoongi’s features was impossible to shake, hovering over you like a sleep paralysis demon of your own creation.

Your tears had stopped since you shut yourself away in your bedroom, but the regret was all the more deep and unsettling. At the sound of the washing machine beeping on the other side of the door, you rolled onto your side, facing the wooden barrier that kept you from Yoongi. You were so sick of walls, but it was all that you knew.

Lifting yourself from the mattress, you began tiptoeing across the room to move the bedding to the dryer. You couldn’t sleep anyway. However, when you carefully pulled the door open, not wanting to alert your boyfriend of your activity, you were stopped in your tracks, the air leaving your lungs as you remained completely still. Peeking through the slightly ajar door, you watched as Yoongi transferred the sheets from the washing machine to the dryer.

He didn’t hear the door open, appearing oblivious to your presence. And perhaps that was why he wasn’t more careful in concealing the sniffle that sounded in the hallway, the small fragile sound stabbing your heart. When he raised his arm to his face, using the sleeve of his hoodie to wipe across his cheek, there was no mistaking the emotional state of the man. Yoongi was crying, and it was your fault.

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>> take my breath

wc: 465 give me a good morning call tomorrow

“good morning!” haechan greets, cheerful as he sings into the receiver. “it’s morning now, right?”

there’s a moment of silence that passes before you respond, and for a second all he hears is the faint rustle of your cotton sheets. you let out a yawn.

“mhm,” is your eventual, sleepy reply. “5 am to be exact.”

he throws his head back. “damn, i miscalculated.”

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