☆ james, captain of his soccer team gives the famous soccer sports anime blue lock a bad review. not knowing the school's president is absolutely obsessed with said anime.
☆ soccer captain!James x school pres!reader. gn!reader. fake nonchalant x fake nonchalant. High school au (idk why i hated hs) james yn Niki and gehlee in their last year... rest of cortis the year below them.
☆ warnings: swearing and inappropriate jokes. Blue lock mention... you dont need to know the anime tho lol
☆ a/n: updates?? couldnt tell you i just randomly decided to combine two things i love. this is really an indulgent idea reader's personality will lowk just be me, tho I wont put any body descriptions.
★ start: may 16 2026.
☆ taglist (open): @taelvvrzz @cortisean @mimismachineheart @iraa567 @seokiify @13uk-g ask to be added!!
The morning air inside the school hallway felt heavy, almost suffocating. Walking through those double doors was the last thing you wanted to do, especially when the memory of what had happened was still so raw. Aside from you, Juni, Nara, and Hani, the rest of the world was entirely in the dark.
You hadn't driven the girls to school today. The sheer exhaustion and anxiety had left you paralyzed, unsure if you could even face the day. James had begged you to just stay home with him, his voice laced with that intense, desperate need for proximity. But you couldn't skip. So, you told him to come with you.
Now, he walked side by side with you down the crowded corridor, his heavy arm draped possessively over your shoulder. To anyone passing by, he looked like the perfect, attentive boyfriend. Charming, calm, and utterly devoted.
He acted as though nothing had happened, completely unfazed. But as you glanced ahead, you spotted your friends gathered by their lockers. The contrast was stark. Their faces were tight with anxiety, their eyes red and cheeks puffy from crying.
Gently but firmly, you came to a halt. "Hey, I'm gonna talk to my friends real quick," you murmured.
James nodded automatically, his body already shifting to follow you, but you placed a hand on his chest. "By myself."
For a split second, the charming facade slipped. His jaw clenched tightly, a flicker of rigid tension washing over his features before he forced a compliant nod.
He retreated across the hallway, leaning his back against the opposite row of lockers. He didn't look away. He just stood there, tracking your every move with an intense, unblinking stare.
You walked toward the girls, your heart hammering against your ribs. The moment you reached them, Juni leaned in, her voice a sharp, frantic whisper. "I told the boys."
Your eyes widened in pure panic. You looked at her like she had lost her mind. "You did what!?"
"They had a right to know their friend is a freaking psychopath," Juni whisper yelled, her eyes darting nervously toward the opposite wall.
A wave of dread washed over you. You ran a hand through your hair, trying to process the danger of what she’d just done. "Did they believe you?"
Juni’s fiery demeanor instantly vanished. She went incredibly quiet, her shoulders slumping. "No," she admitted, her voice dropping into a soft, defeated murmur.
You nervously adjusted the strap of your backpack, the weight of it suddenly feeling like lead. "What did they say?"
Juni sighed heavily, shifting her weight from one foot to the other. "They said what I was describing was completely crazy. They said he would never do something like that." She saw you opening your mouth to speak and quickly raised a hand to cut you off. "Okay, but I really thought they would believe me after what happened at the hangout."
She glanced past your shoulder toward James, who was still frozen against the lockers, staring you down with terrifying focus. Juni leaned in closer. "I think Martin believes it, though."
You turned your head slightly to look back at James. The second your eyes met his, his rigid expression instantly melted into a warm, reassuring smile. The rapid shift was dizzying. You quickly turned back to Juni, your chest tightening.
"We're going to Martin's place after school," Juni explained quickly. "He wants to talk, and he's bringing the rest of the boys too. You down?"
Your pulse spiked violently. The last time you had tried to go somewhere without him, the consequences had been terrifying.
And before that, when you had left him alone to go to work, he had remained in front of the door for hours.
The thought of how he might react to you slipping away again made your stomach turn with fear. But as you thought about the person he used to be—the real James buried underneath this suffocating obsession—you knew you had to go.
You gave a single, firm nod. "I'll come. I'll just need to find a way to get past him."
Nara nodded understandingly, offering a quick solution. "Just tell him your manager called and you have to work a late shift."
"Okay," you breathed out, nodding quickly as you memorized the excuse. "Okay, I'll try that."
Hani reached out, her hand gently resting on your shoulder with a reassuring squeeze. "Good luck."
You gripped her hand tightly for a brief second, drawing whatever comfort you could from the gesture, before letting go. "Thanks."
Turning away from the safety of your friends, you began the long walk back across the hallway. The girls watched you go, their faces filled with quiet dread. James, who hadn't broken eye contact for a single second, smiled warmly as you approached.
"All good?" he asked, his voice smooth and entirely casual.
You forced the best smile you could muster and nodded. "Yeah. All good."
Satisfied, he immediately resumed his position, pulling you against his side and wrapping his heavy arm around your shoulder.
As you began walking toward class, he leaned down and pressed a tender, lingering kiss to the top of your head.
But hidden from your sight, as his face lifted, his warm expression instantly vanished. Over your head, he threw a dark, piercing glare toward the girls at the lockers before turning his eyes back to you, completely locked into his own world.
The drive to Martin’s house had been a blur of white knuckled panic. You had only managed to slip away by using the alibi Nara suggested.
He had been visibly upset, his handsome face twisting into a pout as he complained about losing the night to cuddle you, but to your immense relief, he had ultimately let you go. It was a bizarre, unsettling break from his usual hypervigilant routine, but you weren't about to question your stroke of luck.
You knocked and the moment Martin swung it open, his eyes didn't immediately land on you instead, they darted instantly to the dark driveway behind you, as if he fully expected your second shadow to materialize out of the gloom.
"Just you?" he muttered under his breath, stepping aside to let you in.
You hurried inside and made your way to the living room, but the second you stepped over the threshold. There, stark and unmissable on the carpet, was the dark, scrubbed bloodstain from that night. Your stomach churned. Forcing your eyes away, you quickly took a seat among the group.
The atmosphere in the room was suffocatingly tense. Everyone was vibrating on a wire of pure anxiety.
Juhoon sat with his leg bouncing relentlessly up and down, a nervous, erratic rhythm.
Keonho was wringing his hands together over and over, his knuckles white.
Sean leaned heavily forward, his elbows planted on his knees, staring blankly at the floor.
Juni, Nara, and Hani sat deathly still, huddled together like they were waiting for a bomb to go off.
The moment they saw you sit down, the fragile dam holding back their questions finally broke.
"Okay, so what is going on exactly?" Keonho burst out, unable to contain himself a second longer.
"This is about James, right?" Sean interjected next, his voice sharp and demanding answers.
Juni nodded solemnly on the couch. "Yeah."
"Look, he’s been acting incredibly weird lately," Juhoon chimed in, shaking his head. "But what you guys told us on the phone... that isn't something James would do. James wouldn't hurt a fly."
You shook your head rapidly, your voice tight. "Yeah, exactly! So why did he violently hurt himself the last time he was right here in this room? The James we know would never do that."
Martin’s eyebrows furrowed deeply in concentration as he paced the floor. "I believe you that something is seriously wrong with him. But why would James kill Ronnie? It makes no sense."
"Out of jealousy!" Nara cut in, her voice dripping with annoyance that the boys were still being so blind.
Keonho scoffed loudly, waving his hand dismissively. "He has absolutely no reason to be jealous. James barely ever gets jealous. He's the most secure guy we know."
A wave of absolute frustration boiled over inside you. Unable to sit there and listen to them rationalize a monster, you let out a sharp grunt and stood up abruptly, your hands balled into fists. "Because that’s not James!"
The entire room went dead silent. Every single eye locked onto you.
Juhoon let out a short, breathy laugh that felt dangerously close to a mock. "Okay... so if it's not James, who is it?"
You looked down at the floor, letting out a heavy, defeated sigh before slowly sinking back into your seat. Leaning forward, you rubbed your temples, desperately trying to find the words. "I don't know exactly. But the James we know is still in there... he’s just being completely silenced and overridden by something else."
Martin stopped pacing and stared directly at you. "You need to explain more, because literally nothing you just said makes any sense."
"You're not going to believe me," you muttered, burying your face in your hands as the frustration threatened to turn into tears.
Martin tilted his head, his gaze unwavering. "Try me."
You looked up, scanning the faces in the room. Everyone was entirely focused on you, waiting. Pulling your backpack strap tighter against your shoulder, you took a deep breath and forced the truth out.
"I made a wish," you whispered. "From this magical box that appeared out of nowhere in my room. It’s called a One Wish Willow. And it... it actually worked. I wished that James would love me more than anything else in the entire world. And ever since that moment, he hasn't left my side. Every single day that goes by, it gets worse. His feelings get deeper. He killed Ronnie because he genuinely believed Ronnie liked me."
Your eyes filled with tears, a few hot drops spilling over your cheeks as the boys all looked down, the sheer insanity of your words hanging heavily in the air.
Surprisingly, Martin didn't scoff. He slowly nodded, analyzing the theory. "Okay. So, let's say this is real. How do we reverse it?"
Hani piped up from the couch, her voice trembling. "We called a number that was stamped on the bottom of the box. A man answered. He said the only way to break it is if we find another box and someone else makes a wish... or if y/n dies."
Sean’s head snapped up. He looked at you, Juni, Nara, and Hani as if you had all escaped from an asylum. "So you want one of us to make a wish over some supernatural box that magically appeared in your bedroom?"
You nodded desperately, your eyes pleading. "Yes."
Sean let out a loud, bitter scoff, instantly standing up from his chair. "This is ridiculous, man. You seriously expect me to believe this absolute bullshit?"
Without waiting for a response, he snatched his jacket from the hook by the door and forcefully shoved his feet into his shoes. "I'm outta here."
"Sean, wait!" Juni yelled, jumping up.
"Dude, don't go!" Martin called out.
"Bro, come on, just listen!" Nara pleaded.
But Sean completely ignored them. He grabbed the doorknob, stepped out into the night, and pulled the door shut behind him with a deafening, violent slam that made the windows rattle, leaving you in the echoing silence with a clock that was rapidly ticking down.
SEAN'S POV
The cold night air hit Sean's face, but it did nothing to cool the white hot anger pulsing through his veins. He marched down Martin’s driveway, shoving his hands deep into his jacket pockets, his knuckles white.
He was pissed. No, he was beyond pissed. He was disgusted.
He had known James since his freshman year of high school. When Sean was a clueless underclassman trying to find his footing, James had been the guy to look out for him. James was the older brother he never had.
He was reliable, level headed, and solid. And now? To sit in that living room and listen to the girls spin some psychotic web of lies, claiming James was a murderer? It was bad enough.
But to hear you back it up with some delusional garbage about a magical, wish granting box? It was insulting.
What broke Sean’s brain the most was the others. Keonho had known James just as long as he had. Why the hell wasn't Keonho standing up for him? Why were they all just sitting there, nodding along like sheep to a fairy tale, letting you drag their best friend's name through the mud?
“Bunch of cowards,”Sean muttered to himself, his breath pluming in the crisp night air.
He walked a few blocks away from Martin's neighborhood, his mind spinning so fast he could barely focus on the pavement. He pulled out his phone, hastily ordered a uber, and waited by the curb of a dimly lit main road.
When the car arrived, he hopped into the back seat, staring blankly out the window as the streetlights blurred past. He just wanted to get home, call James, and tell him what kind of twisted games his girlfriend and friends were playing behind his back. James deserved to know.
The Uber dropped Sean off a block from his own house. The neighborhood was dead silent, swallowed by the late night stillness.
Shoving his hands back into his pockets, Sean started the short walk down the sidewalk. He was so deeply buried in his own thoughts, so consumed by the sheer unfairness of it all, that his brain completely locked out the world around him. He didn't notice the car parked with its headlights off a few yards away. He didn't hear the car door click open.
And he definitely didn't hear the quiet, deliberate footsteps trailing behind him, matching his pace with terrifying precision.
It wasn't until a shadow stretched out long and dark beneath the streetlamp, overlapping his own, that Sean's instincts finally flared. A sudden, prickly chill raced up his spine.
He stopped walking. He turned around, his brow furrowed in irritation. "What th—"
The words were instantly cut off. Sean barely had time to react before a hand clamped around his throat and slammed him backward into a car.
The impact knocked the air straight out of his lungs. His fingers instantly clawed at the arm crushing his neck as he gasped desperately for breath, panic surging through him.
For a second everything blurred. The pressure, the shock, the sudden violence of it. Until his eyes finally focused on the person standing in front of him and his stomach dropped.
“J-James…”
James said nothing at first. He just stared at him.
His expression was terrifyingly empty, eyes dark and hooded like there was nothing human left behind them. No anger. No hesitation. Just something cold enough to make Sean’s pulse spike harder than the lack of oxygen already did.
James tightened his grip slightly.
Sean choked, a strained sound leaving his throat as his head pressed harder into the wall behind him. His lungs burned violently now, desperate for air that wouldn’t come. Tears blurred his vision while his hands shook trying to pry James’s fingers loose.
“Where is she.” James’s voice was low. Flat. Controlled.
That somehow made it worse.
Sean could barely answer. Every breath came out broken and strangled as black spots flickered across his vision.
“I— I don’t—”
James suddenly shoved him harder against the car.
“Sean.” His voice sharpened. “Tell. Me. Now.”
Each word came slower than the last, deliberate and terrifying.
Sean’s chest heaved uselessly beneath James’s grip. His face had gone red from lack of oxygen, eyes watering uncontrollably while panic clawed through him. He genuinely thought James might kill him right there.
“M-Martins—” he choked out desperately. “She’s at Martins—” The second the words left his mouth, James released him.
Sean collapsed forward, stumbling as he sucked in a harsh breath that tore through his throat. He barely had a second to recover before James grabbed him again.
This time by the side of his head.
There was a sharp twist.
A sickening crack echoed through the room.
Sean’s body instantly gave out beneath him, crumpling lifelessly onto the floor while James stood over him completely still, his expression never changing once.
Y/N'S POV
The air in the living room shifted, growing heavier with every passing second. You looked at the heavy wooden front door, the echo of Sean’s exit still vibrating in the walls, and let out a shaky, exhausted sigh.
"Look, I'm sorry," you said, your voice cracking as you looked at the remaining boys. "I know this sounds completely insane. But you have to believe me. I messed up. I know that. And I need your help to get the real James back."
Juhoon leaned forward, his hands resting on his knees, his face a mix of lingering skepticism and genuine concern. "But how? You said it yourself, y/n—that wishing box just randomly appeared in your room. It's not like we can just go to the store and buy another one."
Nara quickly raised her hand, pointing a finger at Juhoon to back up her point. "Right! But we have a theory. We think the box finds its way to someone who is desperate. Someone who feels weak or trapped."
Keonho glanced around the small circle, his eyes wide. "Okay... so which one of us is desperate for something?"
Martin, who had been quiet for the last few minutes, slowly shrugged his shoulders. "Me, maybe."
The boys shifted in their seats, looking at him with deep confusion. Martin exhaled a slow breath, looking down at his hands as he explained. "You guys know how much I want to make music. I want to rap. It's all I think about. But my parents... they don't approve at all. They keep telling me I need to find an actual job, to keep my head out of the clouds, and just be realistic."
You locked eyes with him, your heart picking up speed. "How bad do you want it, Martin?"
Martin shrugged again, his gaze drifting away, filled with a raw, heavy sadness. "I don't know... really bad. Like, if it never happens, I don't know what I'll do with myself. It feels like my life won't even be my own. I'll just be stuck doing a miserable job forever."
Suddenly, a sharp, ragged gasp tore from Hani's throat.
Everyone snapped their heads toward her. Her face was deathly pale, her finger trembling violently as she pointed past the boys toward a small side table near the corner of the room.
Every single eye followed her line of sight. Sitting directly on the polished wood—where absolutely nothing had been just moments before—was the small, vintage box.
Keonho took a step back, his face twisting into pure disbelief. "No way. No freaking way."
Martin didn't hesitate. He walked over to the table, his movements almost trance like. He reached down and wrapped his fingers around the box, lifting it up to observe the details. When he turned back to face the group, the uncertainty was completely gone from his eyes. He looked dead serious.
"Alright," Martin breathed, clutching the box tightly. "Let's do this."
Before anyone could even move to stand up, a violent, deafening bang rattled from the backyard. The back gate being forced open.
Hani whimpered, her hands flying to her mouth, her eyes wide with terror. "Please don't tell me that's who I think it is."
Martin’s face hardened. He gripped the box tighter, his voice dropping to a harsh, commanding whisper. "Everyone, move. Go through the front door right now. Y/n, we're taking your car."
You nodded rapidly, adrenaline completely taking over your body as the sheer terror of what James would do if he caught you all in this room pushed you to your feet.
Moving as silently and quickly as possible, the group rushed toward the entryway. Martin threw the front door open and closed, and you all spilled out into the cold night air.
Adrenaline surged through your veins, hot and sharp, as you unlocked the car. Your hands were shaking so violently you could barely shove the key into the ignition.
The heavy thud of doors opening and slamming shut echoed in the quiet street like gunfire.
It was absolute chaos.
The boys scrambled into the back seat first, their larger frames filling the space instantly. Without a second thought, Nara and Juni climbed right into their laps, ducking their heads low to avoid being seen through the glass. Hani, pale and trembling, threw herself into the passenger seat beside you.
"Go, go, go!" Juhoon hissed from the back, his hands gripping the headrest so hard his knuckles were white.
"Y/n, move the car!" Keonho yelled, his voice cracking with pure panic.
Your foot slammed down on the gas pedal. The engine roared to life, tires squealing against the asphalt as you violently pulled away from the curb, throwing everyone back against their seats. The headlights cut through the thick darkness of the neighborhood as you accelerated down the street.
Instinctively, your eyes darted up to the rearview mirror.
The breath completely caught in your throat.
Under the dim, flickering amber glow of the porch light, Martin’s front door swung wide open.
A tall, rigid figure stepped out onto the concrete. He didn't run. He didn't shout. He just stood there, perfectly still, his long shadow stretching out across the lawn toward the road.
Even from a distance, you could feel the icy, unwavering intensity of his gaze tracking your taillights as you sped into the night.
James knew. He knew you weren't at work. He knew exactly who you were with.
The tires shrieked as you tore into the empty, desolate school parking lot. Of all the places you could have fled to, your brain had short circuited and brought you right back here.
You threw the car into park, slammed the door, and leaned heavily against the driver’s side, your chest heaving. The others spilled out behind you, the terrifying adrenaline high beginning to crash into pure panic.
Juni looked around at the dark, looming brick buildings, her voice laced with disbelief. "The school? This is your safe place?"
"I didn't know where else to go, okay?!" you snapped defensively, your hands shaking violently. "My mind went blank!"
"Okay, it doesn't matter," Nara intervened, trying to keep the peace as she pushed her hair out of her face. "What do we do now?"
Everyone crowded around the hood of your car, their faces illuminated by the faint glow of the dashboard lights.
Everyone except Hani. True to her worst anxiety habits, she was pacing back and forth along the side of the vehicle, her hands buried in her hair.
Martin reached into his jacket and pulled out the vintage box, its surface gleaming dangerously in the moonlight. "I make the wish now."
Everyone nodded frantically. Hani stopped her pacing, tears finally spilling over her cheeks as she choked out, "Okay, well hurry up!—"
The words were brutally torn from her throat. A pair of headlights blinded the group a millisecond before a dark sedan slammed into Hani full force. The impact sent her body flying through the air, crashing hard onto the asphalt yards away.
A chorus of horrified screams echoed through the empty lot. You didn't even have time to breathe, let alone process the sickening sound of the impact.
The driver’s side door of the striking car began to click open. Nobody waited to see the face of the person stepping out. You already knew exactly who it was.
"Run!" Keonho shrieked.
You lunged away from the car, your legs moving on pure survival instinct as the group sprinted toward the side of the school. You were met instantly by a tall chain link fence.
"Go, go, come on!" Juhoon yelled, dropping to one knee and locking his fingers together to form a step. Keonho and Martin mirrored him, hoisted the girls up, and practically threw you, Juni, and Nara over the top. The metal scraped your hands, but you barely felt it. The second your feet hit the dirt on the other side, the boys scrambled over behind you.
You ran blindly through the shadows of the campus until you reached the wide open expanse of the football field. Bleachers rose like skeletal giants around you.
You collapsed forward, hands on your knees, gasping for air that wouldn't come. Your eyes locked onto Martin. "Martin... make the wish. Now!"
Martin nodded frantically, his face pale as sheet. He shoved his hand into his jacket pocket. Then his brow furrowed. He slapped his other pocket. He checked his jeans. He did it again, his movements becoming faster, more frantic.
Juni’s voice hitched in pure terror. "Don't tell me you lost it."
Martin gripped his hair with both hands, letting out a fractured, frustrated sob. "I lost it. It’s gone."
"Dude, are you fucking kidding me?!" Keonho yelled, stepping into Martin’s face, his voice cracking with rage and fear. "You had one job!"
"I'm sorry!" Martin yelled back, tears of frustration in his eyes. "I was a little too busy running for my life!"
"Guys! Shut up!" you whispered fiercely, cutting through the panic. "Arguments won't fix this. He’s coming. You shouldn't have dropped it too far back. It has to be around here, okay? Everyone spread out and look for it!"
The group went dead silent, nodding quickly. Whispered prayers filled the air as everyone pulled out their phones, clicking on the flashlights. The thin beams of light swept desperately over the dark grass of the field.
Minutes felt like agonizing hours. The darkness around the stadium felt like it was closing in, every shadow taking the shape of James’s terrifying, calm frame. Everyone was growing restless, the suffocating dread of James impending arrival freezing the blood in your veins.
Then, a breakthrough.
Juhoon’s flashlight beam locked onto something in the grass. He threw his arm into the air holding it, a massive, relieved smile breaking across his face.
"I found it—"
A deafening, sharp crack echoed through the empty stadium, shattering the night.
Juhoon’s words died in his throat. The smile vanished. His phone dropped from his hand, the flashlight spinning wildly on the grass as his body crumpled forward, hitting the turf with a heavy, lifeless thud.
Standing directly behind where Juhoon had just been, bathed in the erratic beam of the fallen phone, was James.
He held a heavy black handgun, the barrel still smoking slightly. His neat clothes were completely unruffled, his expression entirely devoid of remorse or panic.
He just looked furious. A terrifying, quiet rage burning in his eyes as he looked at the group who had tried to steal you away from him.
Keonho let out a raw, guttural scream tearing from his lungs. "Juhoon!"
You stepped back, your shoes skidding against the wet turf of the football field. A fractured gasp tore from your throat, the air in your lungs turning to pure ice.
Every drop of blood, every terrified scream, every broken body. James was ripping the world apart because of a few desperate words you had whispered into the dark.
It was love, but twisted into something monstrous, an unyielding obsession that left no room for anyone else to exist.
James stepped over Juhoon's motionless body without a single glance. He reached down and wrapped his fingers around the One Wish Willow box, lifting it from the grass.
"Y/n," Juni’s voice was a frantic, threadbare whisper right behind your ear.
You glanced at her, your vision blurred by tears. She didn't look at James instead, she pointed through the shadows toward the edge of the field. There, silhouetted against the dark sky, stood the massive, weeping willow tree.
The very spot you used to escape to when the pressure of the world became too much. The namesake of the curse. Maybe the tree itself held the power to break the loop.
"Keonho," you hissed, catching his eye across the grass. Tears streamed down your cheeks as you subtly jerked your chin toward the looming branches of the willow.
Keonho’s eyes widened, understanding clicking in instantly. He began to back away with agonizing slowness, his boots making no sound on the turf, doing everything in his power not to draw the barrel of James's gun back toward him. He reached the trunk and began to scramble up into the thick, twisted canopy, hunting for a fresh, living branch to snap.
James took a slow, deliberate step toward you, his gaze locked onto your face. But before he could reach you, Juni courageously stepped directly into his path, shielding you with her own body.
"Leave her alone!" she screamed.
James stopped dead in his tracks. His handsome face twisted into an expression of pure, unadulterated fury.
"No, no, no," he muttered quietly, his head twitching slightly. "No, no, no!" His voice building into a terrifying, echoing roar that vibrated through the empty stadium. "You stole her from me! She's mine! I love her!"
Juni didn't back down, her voice fiercely matching his rage. "She doesn't want you!"
James let out a guttural grunt, lunging forward. "She made the wish!"
As the words ripped from his throat, his voice suddenly warped. It was still James, but layered with a deeper, unnatural resonance that made your skin crawl.
He wrapped a heavy hand around Juni’s shoulder and violently shoved her out of his way. She tripped over her own feet, flying backward through the darkness. A sickening thud echoed through the night as her head collided with a landscaping rock at the edge of the field, her body instantly going limp as she was knocked unconscious.
"Juni!" you screamed, but James was already standing directly in front of you.
The towering rage in his face vanished as quickly as it had arrived. He looked down at you, his eyes entirely bloodshot, filled with a profound, breaking hurt.
"Why do you run?" he asked, his voice dropping into a soft, desperate whimper. He reached out, his fingers hovering just inches from your cheek. "Why don't you want me? I thought... I thought this was what you wanted."
Behind him, out of his line of sight, Martin was frantically gesturing to the tree, hissing at Keonho to move faster. Keonho balanced precariously on a thick bough, his fingers straining to reach a smaller, supple willow branch just out of his grasp. He lifted one foot completely off the wood, stretching his entire frame until his fingers finally clamped around the leaves.
"I got it!" Keonho gasped in a burst of pure excitement.
He waved the branch in the air, completely losing track of his center of gravity. "Woah—"
With a heavy crash, Keonho fell through the lower limbs, hitting the hard ground with a brutal impact. A sharp, sickening snap echoed from his leg. "Fuck!" he groaned through clenched teeth, clutching his violently twisting ankle as he writhed in the grass.
The noise shattered the air. James’s jaw clenched tightly. Realizing what they were trying to do, he stepped back from you, clutching the One Wish Willow box tightly against his chest.
"Martin!" Keonho wheezed, using every ounce of his remaining strength to hurl the broken willow branch across the grass.
The throw was wide, sending the branch skittering several yards away from where Martin was standing. "Dude, really?!" Martin hissed, breaking into a desperate sprint toward the grass as Keonho muttered a breathless, pained apology.
James didn't care about Martin. He looked back at you, his thumb tracing the vintage box.
"I wish," James whispered, his voice smooth and terrifyingly calm.
Your eyes widened in pure horror. "No... no, please, James, don't!"
"That you'd love me more than anything else in the entire world."
"No!" You lunged forward, your fingers clawing at the air, trying to rip the box from his grasp, but you were a second too late.
SNAP.
The box cracked beneath his fingers.
The world seemed to stop spinning. You froze, your hands dropping to your sides.
You blinked once. Twice.
The confusion that had been clouding your mind for days suddenly melted away, replaced by an overwhelming, drowning wave of warmth.
You looked up at him. James. Your James.
A massive, radiant smile broke across your face, a breathless laugh escaping your lips. You stepped closer, reaching up to cup his face in your hands. James immediately leaned into your touch like a man dying of thirst, his eyelids fluttering shut.
"Oh, baby," you whispered, your eyes shining with absolute devotion. "I missed you so much."
"I missed you more," he murmured.
You caressed his cheek, your thumb wiping away a trace of dust from his skin. "I'm not going anywhere. I'm with you forever and ever."
James didn't waste another syllable. He leaned down and pulled you into a deep, possessive kiss, his tongue automatically forcing its way past your lips, claiming you entirely. You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him closer, completely lost in him.
From the grass, Keonho watched the exchange, his eyes widening in absolute, paralyzing terror.
The girl who had been fighting for her life seconds ago was now clinging to her captor.
Shaking with fear, Keonho began to crawl backward on his elbows, dragging his broken ankle through the dirt toward Martin.
Martin finally scooped the willow branch out of the grass, turning around just in time to catch the silhouette of you and James locked in a passionate embrace under the stadium lights.
"Shit," Martin muttered to himself, his voice trembling as the sheer gravity of the nightmare hit him. There was no one left to save you but him.
He squeezed his eyes shut, gripping the willow branch with both hands.
"I wish everything would go back to the way it was before y/n's stupid wish!" he screamed into the night.
With a sharp, desperate motion, Martin snapped the branch in two.
Almost instantaneously, the darkness of the football field was violently torn apart. A blinding, deafening white light erupted from the fracture, swallowing the stadium, the tree, and the entire world in a brilliant, silent flash.
'One night I was bored in bed and stalked you on the Internet'
There was this boy. His hair was a deep, dark brown, short—though on some days he’d style it into a casual, spikey texture. He had warm brown eyes framed by the sharpest, most defined jawline you’d ever seen, and a pair of effortlessly perfect lips.
You knew his name. James. But that was the extent of your knowledge. The only reason his name had even registered in your mind was because a mutual friend from your college art class happened to run in the same circles as one of his buddies.
Despite being complete strangers, your paths crossed in that passive, repetitive way college campuses dictate. You’d pass each other in the crowded humanities hallway, or catch a glimpse of him cutting across the quad.
A few times, you spotted him in the quietest corner of the library, always sitting by the tall arched window but facing away from the view.
On those specific afternoons, a pair of dark rimmed glasses sat on the bridge of his nose, giving him an entirely different, focused energy. You didn’t know him.. you just observed him.
Then came a random Thursday night. After hours of draining your brain over textbooks, taking a scorching shower, and wasting an hour doom scrolling through TikTok, boredom finally morphed into curiosity.
You opened Instagram.
A quiet, rational part of your brain told you to just leave it alone, but the impulse to search for him won out. You spent twenty minutes typing variations of his name into the search bar, praying he didn’t use some obscure, unsearchable handle. Finally, a profile popped up, and the tiny circular thumbnail was the dead giveaway. It was him.
You tapped on his profile and began to scroll, sinking deeper into a digital rabbit hole. His feed was a chaotic, charming mix of blurry, goofy selfies that proved he didn't take himself too seriously, group shots hanging out with friends on weekends, and sudden, artistic snapshots of random things he’d passed on the street. He seemed genuinely chill, the kind of person who was magnetic without trying to be.
Before you could talk yourself out of it, your thumb hovered over the blue message button.
Should I?
The question hung in the quiet of your bedroom. You let out a heavy sigh. It was a shot in the dark, but what did you really have to lose? Even if he decided to click on your profile to investigate, there was enough there to show you were a real, normal person.
You pressed the button, the keyboard clicking in the silence as you typed out a sudden burst of confidence:
They say dating is a numbers game, so can I get yours?
The second your thumb hit send, a wave of intense, visceral cringe washed over you.
Why did I say that? you thought, staring at the screen in mild horror.
It was cheesy, but you reasoned it could have been worse. Desperate to escape the immediate regret, you locked your phone, tossed it face down onto the nightstand, and clicked off the bedside lamp.
Plunged into total darkness, you pulled the blankets up, determined to fall asleep before you could dwell on the terrifying reality that James might actually read it.
---
He read it. He actually read it.
You woke up to the blare of your alarm on its fifth consecutive snooze cycle. Yawning heavily, you dragged yourself into a sitting position and blindly reached for your phone on the nightstand.
The moment your screen lit up, your morning groginess completely evaporated. There, sitting right at the top of your lock screen, was a direct message notification from Instagram.
James had replied. According to the timestamp, he’d sent it just a few minutes after you’d fallen asleep the night before.
You stared at the notification, frozen in a mix of absolute horror and morbid curiosity. Your heart began to hammer against your ribs. Taking a deep breath, you tapped the screen to open the chat.
i don’t even know you 😭
Your heart rate spiked, but you didn't panic. It wasn't a brutal rejection. It was just the objective truth. Capitalizing on the sudden burst of adrenaline, you typed back before you could overthink it.
you can get to know me
As soon as it sent, the nervous energy kicked in. Your fingers anxiously fidgeted with the edge of the blanket beside you, watching the screen.
In less than a minute, the little 'Sent' text flipped to 'Read.' A wave of nervous nausea hit your stomach as the typing bubbles appeared, danced for a second, and vanished, replaced by a gray box.
ok bet
Before you could even process that, another bubble popped up immediately after.
my classes get done at two. Are you free??
A massive, uncontrollable smile broke across your face, your brain screaming,
Oh shit!
You quickly tapped out a response before he could change his mind.
yes
The second the message went through, you threw your phone onto the mattress, jumped out of bed, and let out a muffled squeal into your hands.
You ended up doing a ridiculous, victorious little celebration dance right there in the middle of your room completely forgetting about your early morning exhaustion.
🎀
'It's feminine intuition'
What started out as a connection quickly blossomed into a routine you looked forward to every single day. In the beginning, it was simple. Meeting up at the library, tucked away in a quiet corner to swap the basic puzzle pieces of your lives.
You talked about tedious lecture professors, debated the best colors, and shared your favorite weekend hobbies. It was the standard, comfortable script of two people getting to know each other.
But gradually, the casual nature of it shifted.
The brief smiles and polite waves you used to exchange in the hallways evolved.
Suddenly, James was stopping in his tracks whenever he spotted you, adjusting his pace to walk you all the way to your next class. He’d leave you at the door with a bright, effortless smile and a warm, "See you later."
Your hangouts expanded beyond the campus too. He took you to a hidden, cozy cafe he’d discovered down a side street, and in return, you showed him the dusty, nostalgic record store you liked to wander through on quiet afternoons.
By the time evening rolled around, your phone was constantly lighting up with his name. Either a text checking in on your night, a chaotic meme, or another goofy, candid picture of himself that made you laugh out loud in your room.
Which brought you to today, sitting inside that very same cafe he had introduced to you. You were tucked into a small, sunlit booth, watching him as he navigated the counter line.
When he returned, he slid a rich chocolate chocolate-chip muffin and a sweating glass of iced coffee toward you, keeping a classic glazed donut and a steaming mug of hot chocolate for himself.
Settling into the seat across from you, he immediately asked about your day before leaning forward, genuinely curious. "How’s the art portfolio coming along?"
You let out a soft sigh, stirring your drink. "I don't know... I don't want to just base it on a random mix of everything. I want to connect deeply with one specific subject and really express it."
James nodded, his expression shifting into one of total understanding. While your medium was physical art, his was captured through a lens; he knew the weight of trying to find a vision.
He looked at you, a small, gentle smile playing on his lips, and a subtle, unreadable warmth flickering in his eyes.
"Anything specific in mind yet?" he asked softly.
You shrugged, looking down at the table pattern. "I don't really have any inspiration right now."
James leaned in a bit closer, his gaze softening completely. "Then draw or paint with your heart. Just sit down with a blank page and start doodling without a plan. Sometimes letting your hands move leads to exactly what you're looking for. Sitting and overthinking just causes stress, when really, you just need to let your feelings guide you."
His words hit home, truer than he even realized. Your heart always beat a little faster whenever he was around, a constant, humming rhythm of excitement and comfort that you hoped—secretly, desperately—he might be feeling too.
As you looked up from the table and met his gaze, you realized the block was gone. You had just found your inspiration, and it was the boy with the sharp jawline and the soft smile, looking right back at you.
🎀
'Cuz I always had a vision of a standing like this'
Looking back on the trajectory of how you and James had grown together, it felt almost surreal. There had been a time, not so long ago, when he was just a striking silhouette by a library window or a name dropped casually by an art class acquaintance.
Back then, you could only imagine what it would be like to actually be a part of his world. Visualizing the quiet thrill of him asking for your number, the sound of his laugh up close, or the simple comfort of having him walk by your side.
But reality had completely eclipsed those late night daydreams. The actual, lived experience of his presence was infinitely better than anything your imagination could have manufactured. It was the unscripted, low stakes moments that really began to shift the gravity between you.
Lately, the hangouts had migrated to the quiet sanctuary of your dorm room. He would wander over after his afternoon photography labs, kicking off his shoes and settling onto your small sofa as if he belonged there.
You’d pick a random movie, pile up a ridiculous assortment of snacks between you, and spend the next two hours offering a running commentary, making fun of bad dialogue and laughing at the predictable plot twists.
During those movie nights, the space between you seemed to shrink naturally. James didn't sit on the opposite end of the couch. He sat close enough that your shoulders occasionally brushed when you laughed.
On one particularly chilly evening, without a word, he stood up, padded down the short hallway to your closet, and retrieved a thick, oversized throw blanket. When he came back, he didn't just hand it over. He sat back down and draped it carefully over both of your laps, sharing the warmth.
Halfway through a slow paced indie film, the exhaustion of a long week finally caught up to you. Your eyes grew heavy, and before you could consciously fight the fatigue, your head drifted downward, settling gently against the solid warmth of his shoulder.
When you jolted awake forty minutes later as the credits started to roll, panic immediately set in. "Oh my god, I am so sorry," you stammered, pulling back quickly and rubbing your eyes, convinced you had just crossed an unspoken line.
James didn't look bothered at all. He just shifted slightly, a relaxed, easy smile spreading across his face as he shrugged it off. "Hey, it's fine. Don't worry about it," he said softly, his voice low in the quiet room. "I really didn't mind."
As your brain scrambled to process his reassurance, a sudden swarm of butterflies erupted in your stomach. It wasn't just his words. It was the sudden awareness of where his hand was.
While you were asleep, his arm had found its way along the back of the sofa, resting gently around your shoulders to keep you comfortable. The casual intimacy of the gesture made your heart race, the heat rising rapidly to your cheeks.
Terrified that the bright blush on your face would give away exactly how deeply he affected you, you quickly turned your head away, pretending to fixate on the scrolling credits on the television screen.
You stared at the black and white text, trying to deep breathe your way back to a normal temperature, completely convinced you had successfully hidden your reaction.
But you hadn't.
In the dim light of the room, James noticed the sudden shift in your posture, the way you carefully avoided his gaze, and the unmistakable pink hue tracing your jawline.
A small, knowing smile tugged at the corner of his lips. While you were staring intently at the TV, he leaned back against the cushions, looking down at you with a quiet, lingering warmth in his eyes—a look full of unspoken affection that you missed entirely, but one that changed everything.
🎀
'Most alive I've ever been'
He had this rare, unexplainable ability to make you feel completely alive. Before James came into the picture, your world felt small, confined to the quiet hum of a dorm room shared with a barely there roommate. Most nights were a blur of endless studying or passive phone scrolling, watching strangers live these wildly happy, vibrant lives while you sat on your bed, wondering if you were even heading in the right direction.
But James changed the gravity of your routine. He made a conscious effort to always be by your side, pulling you out of your head.
He started taking you to places he easily could have gone to with his close friends, but whenever you brought it up, he’d just shrug and say he wanted it to be just the two of you. He wanted to experience things with you.
That’s how you found yourself standing in the doorway of a massive, two story entertainment complex tucked inside a mall you’d never fully explored. You were genuinely shocked you had never heard of it before.
The first floor was an absolute playground. A sprawling arcade, a neon lit mini golf course, a vibrant food court, and a bowling alley humming with energy.
Up on the second floor, the distant roar of electric go karts echoed down. Your face lit up instantly, a massive smile taking over as you looked around, wanting to try absolutely everything.
"Let's do it all," James said, matching your excitement.
He paid for the arcade card, and the next couple of hours vanished in a blur of flashing lights and competitive banter.
You played target shooting games, raced side by side on virtual motorbikes, and went head to head in air hockey—where James ruthlessly kept winning, laughing every time the puck slid past your defense.
But your comeback came at the axe throwing cages. It quickly became your absolute favorite, mostly because you completely outshone him, sticking the target almost every time while he shook his head in mock defeat.
Next was mini golf, which you quickly realized you were terrible at. James took the win again, teasingly defending himself by saying, "Hey, maybe it's just because I used to play hockey."
By the time you sat down at the mini food court to grab a bite, you were practically vibrating with leftover adrenaline. You ate your food, chatting a mile a minute, entirely happy. Sitting across from you, James just watched you, a soft, steady smile resting on his face. He leaned back, crossing his arms. "So, what's next? Bowling or go karts?"
"Bowling," you decided, pointing toward the lanes nearby.
As it turned out, you both absolutely sucked at it. You found yourself laughing until your stomach hurt at James’s impressive streak of consecutive gutter balls. You didn't do much better, but your score was just high enough to beat his abysmal run.
"Okay, how are you actually good at this?" he asked, throwing his hands up in defeat.
You laughed, nudging his shoulder. "Wii Sports."
He chuckled, bumping his shoulder back against yours, and for a second, you just leaned into him, the warmth of the moment settling deep in your chest.
But whatever gentleness you shared in the bowling alley completely evaporated the moment you strapped on your helmets at the go kart track.
All the niceness was gone. This was pure, unadulterated competition. You gripped the steering wheel, flooring the pedal around the tight corners, exchanging leading positions with him on every lap. On the final stretch, you managed to cut inside and cross the finish line just a fraction of a second ahead of him.
The second you stepped out of the kart, you ripped your helmet off, got right in his face, and playfully danced around him, chanting, "I won! I won!"
James just stood there, hands in his pockets, shaking his head with a broad, amused smile. He let you have your moment, never planning to mention the fact that he had slightly eased off the throttle on the final turn. He just loved seeing you look that cheery. Your absolute happiness had become his favorite thing to witness.
It wasn't until you were finally walking out toward the parking lot, the cool night air hitting your faces, that the shift happened. James was talking about a funny moment from the arcade when the words accidentally slipped out.
"Seriously, though... this was a really fun date."
You stopped dead in your tracks. James paused a step ahead of you, turning around to face you.
"Date?" you repeated, your voice trailing off. "Was this a date?" You looked at him, your brow furrowing in genuine confusion.
The confident, competitive guy from the racetrack vanished in an instant. James suddenly looked incredibly shy, his eyes dropping to the pavement as he kicked a loose rock with the toe of his shoe. "Um... yeah. I wanted it to be."
A small, knowing smile slowly tugged at the corners of your lips, and you tilted your head, watching him. "You know, you could’ve just asked."
He looked up, his cheeks flushing a prominent, dark red in the parking lot lights. He ran a hand through his hair, pushing it back nervously. "I know, I know. I just... I got nervous at the last second, so I called it a hangout. But really, the whole time, I wanted to say date."
It was your turn to look down at the ground, a sudden rush of butterflies invading your stomach. You nodded slowly, letting the feeling sink in. "Okay. Well... I had a really fun date, too."
You looked up just in time to see his entire expression light up, a relieved, brilliant smile breaking across his face. The tension left his shoulders as he took a step closer to you, closing the distance between you. He reached out, his fingers brushing gently against your cheek as he tucked a stray strand of hair behind your ear. His touch was warm and deliberate.
"Would you like to go on a second date then?" he asked, his voice low, his eyes locked onto yours.
You bit your lip, your smile widening as you met his gaze. "Yes."
🎀
'But kiss me now and I might drop dead'
It wasn't even the second date when he finally kissed you.
Instead, it happened on a quiet, unremarkable Tuesday night. The two of you had ended up staying late at the campus library, tucked away in your usual corner. For hours, you had just enjoyed each other's company in a comfortable, domestic silence.
James was wearing his glasses. The ones that always made your heart skip a beat because of how effortlessly good he looked in them.
The university kept the library open until ten, but by nine o'clock, your brain was completely fried. With a heavy sigh, you shut your textbook, the loud snap echoing softly in the quiet room.
You glanced out the tall arched window, noticing for the first time that a sudden, heavy downpour was slashing against the glass.
Turning back to James, you watched him for a moment. His eyebrows were slightly furrowed in deep concentration as he finished a chapter.
"Hey," you whispered, breaking the silence.
"Hmm?" he murmured, instantly looking up. The moment his gaze locked onto yours, you had his absolute, undivided attention.
"The library closes in an hour," you said, gesturing toward the window. "We should probably head out before they kick us out."
He nodded, closing his book and sliding it into his backpack while you gathered your own things. As you walked down the stairs and approached the heavy glass exit doors, you looked at the sheets of water falling outside. "Do you have an umbrella?"
You both stepped out onto the covered concrete porch, the cool, damp air hitting us instantly. James looked out at the storm, then looked back at you, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. "No. I really should've checked the weather forecast before leaving my dorm."
You let out a soft laugh. "Okay, well... we could always just run for it?"
James looked at you, then measured the distance of the downpour, and turned back to you with a thoughtful expression. "Your dorm is all the way across campus. Mine is much closer. How about we run to my building instead? At least we’ll be slightly less soaked."
"All right," you agreed, looking out at the deluge. "But I think we're still going to get absolutely drenched either way."
He chuckled lightly, stepping right up to the edge of the roof's shelter. "Fair point." He reached down and caught your hand, wrapping his fingers securely around yours. "Ready?"
You nodded. He tightened his grip, a playful smirk throwing itself across his face. "Don't fall."
And then he leaped out into the storm, pulling you right behind him. A shocked laugh escaped your lips as the freezing rain instantly soaked through your clothes. James let out a loud, breathless laugh, his long strides cutting through the puddles as he guided you through the dark campus pathways.
It only took a few minutes, but by the time you sprinted under the covered awning of his dorm complex, you were both completely breathless.
The rain was streaming down your face like sweat, and your clothes were plastered to your skin. James’s hair was completely flat, water dripping steadily from the dark strands, but he was staring at you with a brilliant, unbothered smile.
"Well," he panted, wiping a hand across his forehead, "guess running to my place didn't save us from the downpour after all."
You smiled, wringing out the edge of your jacket. "Not really, but at least we spent less time running in it."
James nodded slowly, his laughter fading into something much quieter. He took a deliberate step closer to you, closing the distance on the empty porch. A sudden, intense look entered his eyes. One that made your chest tighten in the best way possible.
You looked up at him, your eyebrows furrowing slightly in curiosity, a lingering smile still on your lips. "What?"
He didn't answer right away. His gaze traveled over your face, taking you in entirely, before finally lingering on your lips. "You are so beautiful," he said softly.
You scoffed gently, looking down as if you couldn't quite believe him. "James, I literally look like a drowned rat right now."
"Still beautiful," he insisted, his voice dropping an octave.
He stepped even closer, so near that a stray drop of water fell from his wet hair and splashed onto your cheek. Your breath caught in your throat. Slowly, deliberately, he leaned down, his nose grazing against yours. He looked deeply into your eyes, down at your lips, and then back up to meet your gaze, silently asking the question.
"Can I?" he whispered.
You nodded.
When his lips finally met yours, the kiss was slow and gentle, as if he wanted to savor the exact moment. His hands found their place at your waist, warm even through your damp shirt, while your arms slid naturally up his neck, pulling him closer.
The initial hesitation melted away into a deep, genuine passion. You could both feel the sheer happiness radiating between you, to the point where you both started smiling into the kiss, breaking the contact for a split second just to laugh softly against each other's lips.
Eventually, you pulled back just enough to breathe, though neither of you broke the embrace. Your arms rested comfortably around his neck, and his hands remained anchored at your waist. He leaned down, placing a tender kiss on the corner of your lips.
"I was actually planning to wait for our second date to do that," he admitted, a teasing note in his voice.
You shook your head, your smile widening as you looked at him. "I like this way much better. Kissing in the rain feels way more romantic."
He chuckled, the sound vibrating against your chest. This time, you didn't wait for him to ask. You leaned in, closing the gap between you.
The second kiss wasn't slow or hesitant. It was confident and certain. As the storm continued to rage around the covered porch, you held tightly to the boy you liked, completely grateful for the random Thursday night intuition that had told you to send that stupid pickup line.
Note: Shorter chapter but we're finally done with the arena. Which means James will be making an appearance soon!!
<<Previous TWOT Masterlist
Keonho came at you fast.
His feet slammed against the floor as he charged, a guttural snarl ripping from his throat while black sludge dripped from his mouth onto the ground beneath him. His arms reached toward you violently, fingers twitching unnaturally as if all he wanted was to tear into flesh.
This time you didn’t freeze. You didn’t hesitate. You didn’t look for traces of your friend inside those black eyes. You knew your friend was already gone.
The second he lunged into reach, you moved. You spun the trident behind you smoothly, gripping it tightly with both hands before driving the weapon upward with all the force you had left.
Keonho ran straight into it. The metal pierced through his skull with a sickening crunch.
The impact nearly knocked you backward from the added weight. Your arms shook violently as his body jerked against the trident, growls turning into choking gurgles.
You grunted through clenched teeth before kicking hard against his stomach. His body slid off the weapon and hit the ground heavily.
This time you didn’t collapse beside him. You Didn’t cry. Didn’t beg for him to wake up.
You had already mourned him once.
Instead you just stood there staring at the body while your chest rose unevenly.
Then slowly, you let out a long breath. Like something finally left your body with it.
You snapped your head toward the exit immediately and saw the curly haired girl sprinting away through the ruined street, clutching her bag tightly against her side.
Running. What a Coward.
You tightened your grip around the trident and broke into a run after her. Your injured leg screamed in protest, your body exhausted and heavy, but rage carried you forward anyway.
The girl glanced behind her once.
Panic flooded her face the second she realized you were still following.
She stumbled slightly over broken pavement before catching herself again, desperately trying to gain distance.
But you were already pulling the trident back. Your fingers tightened around the shaft. Then you threw it. The weapon sliced cleanly through the air before driving straight through her back.
The girl let out a sharp cry as the force knocked her forward violently onto the pavement. The then cannon sounded.
You walked toward her slowly, breathing hard. Sand blew through the street around you as you stopped beside the body.
The trident remained lodged through her torso.
You grabbed the shaft and ripped it back out with a wet sound. Blood splattered across the sand beneath her.
You stared down at her lifeless body for a moment. Then spat on it and walked away.
Not even a minute later another cannon echoed through the arena.
Your steps slowed briefly.
Then a third cannon followed after that somewhere farther in the city.
You stopped walking completely this time, standing alone in the middle of the ruined street while wind whipped around you.
Once, those sounds would’ve made your stomach drop. Once, you would’ve wondered who died. Now you just counted silently in your head.
Four left.
The collapsed bridge offered a rare panoramic view of the ruins, making it impossible for anyone to approach without being spotted. After eating the last of the dry protein bars and finishing the water, you stretched your aching muscles. The rest had helped, but the tension in the arena was reaching its absolute peak.
Leaving the relative safety of the open bridge, you moved back down into the cracked streets, tracking the distant sound of shifting rubble and voices.
In a wide, debris strewn plaza where two major roads intersected, you spotted them. Sage, Eli, and Margo had cornered the final unknown tribute. A boy from an outer district.
Before you could even position yourself, the trio moved with practiced coordination, eliminating the boy and bringing the total number of remaining tributes down to four.
As the boy's cannon echoed through the shattered buildings, Sage turned, her eyes locking onto you standing at the edge of the plaza.
"Well, look who finally showed up," Sage said, stepping forward while Margo and Eli fanned out to cut off your escape. Sage held her weapon loosely, a cold smile on her face. "You know, I really tried to befriend you before we got thrown into this place. We could have been an alliance."
A harsh, humorless laugh escaped your throat. "I know exactly what you were doing, Sage. You wanted to use me then kill me when the time was right."
Without waiting for her to close the distance, you lunged forward. Sage swung her weapon, but you anticipated the move, parrying it easily with the shaft of your trident.
Using the momentum, you swept her legs out from under her and delivered a decisive, neutralizing strike that ended her time in the games. Her cannon fired almost instantly.
Margo didn't hesitate. Utilizing her sheer strength, she charged you like a battering ram, knocking the trident from your hands. You tumbled across the asphalt, glass cutting into your palms.
As Margo leaned in to finish it, you used her own momentum against her, catching her by her turban and redirecting her weight. She crashed hard into a jagged, exposed metal reinforcement rod jutting out from a collapsed pillar. The impact pinned her, and as the strength drained from her eyes, her cannon signaled the end of her fight.
That left only Eli.
He picked up a discarded blade, his knuckles white as he faced you. You recovered your trident, breathing heavily, your injuries screaming in protest.
"Why?" you demanded, your voice raw. "Out of everyone here, why were you so adamant about killing me?"
Eli’s jaw tightened, his eyes filled with a deep, burning resentment. "Your brother," he spat out. "Finnick. He killed my older sister in his games. The whole Capitol cheered for him while my family watched her die. I promised myself if I ever got reaped, I'd pay my respect for her."
"This won't bring her back," you said softly, tightening your grip on the polished metal of your trident.
"It settles the score," Eli replied, and charged.
The final clash was a blur of exhausting strikes and parries. Eli was fast, driven by years of fueled anger, but you had the reach and the superior weapon.
He managed to slice your arm, but you sidestepped his next overhead swing, catching the hilt of his blade with the tines of your trident. With a sharp twist, you disarmed him, sending the blade clattering across the pavement, and followed through with a swift, definitive strike.
Eli fell back, still, as the final cannon boomed, echoing across the silent, empty city.
The silence that followed was absolute. The wind stopped howling. The sand settled.
Your legs gave out, and you collapsed onto your knees, the trident slipping from your numb fingers. Your vision began to blur at the edges from sheer exhaustion and blood loss. Just before darkness took over completely, a booming, mechanized voice echoed from the hidden speakers high above the arena.
"Ladies and gentlemen, we are pleased to announce the victor of the 68th annual Hunger Games...
Y/n Odair."
The sharp, blinding glare of overhead fluorescent lights forced your eyes open, a harsh contrast to the dim gray skies of the arena.
You gasped, your lungs expanding against a sudden rush of cool, sterile air that didn't taste like sand or smoke.
White walls. A crisp, stiff hospital gown.
The immediate panic surged, your fingers clawing at the mattress before you realized the texture was soft linen, not fractured asphalt.
Nearby, a monitor beeped in a steady, frantic rhythm that matched your spiking heart rate. A nurse in pale blue scrubs dropped a clipboard, her eyes wide with shock at your sudden, violent awakening.
Before you could even form a syllable, she bolted from the room, the heavy glass door sliding shut with a soft hiss.
Left alone, the suffocating confinement of the room pressed in on you. Your hand flew to your face, ripping the plastic oxygen prongs from your nose. With a sharp grunt, you jerked your left arm forward, tearing the IV needle straight out of your skin. A small bead of dark blood welled where the tape had been, but you ignored it, swinging your legs over the edge of the high mattress.
The moment your bare feet touched the polished linoleum floor, the room tilted violently. Your knees buckled, entirely unaccustomed to supporting your weight without the chemical drive of pure adrenaline.
You white knuckled the metal bedside rail, squeezing your eyes shut as waves of nausea and vertigo crashed over you, waiting for the floor to stabilize.
The glass door slid open again with a sudden mechanical click.
Finnick stood in the doorway, his usual Capitol ready posture completely shattered. He looked exhausted, his clothes wrinkled and his hair uncharacteristically disheveled.
For a fraction of a second, you both just stared at each other, locking eyes across the sterile space. The cold, empty gaze you had carried through the ruins softened just a fraction. His eyes widened in absolute shock—partly because you were standing, but mostly because he was finally looking at his sister alive.
In three long strides, he was across the room, his hands firmly but gently gripping your uninjured shoulder. "You shouldn't be out of bed. Are you crazy?" he muttered, his voice a low, frantic whisper as he guided you down to sit on the edge of the mattress.
He reached down toward the discarded IV tube and oxygen lines scattered on the floor, intending to call the medical staff back in, but your voice stopped him cold.
"No." The word was completely flat, devoid of any inflection.
Finnick froze, slowly straightening up to look at you. He analyzed the rigid line of your jaw, the hollow look in your eyes, and the way your hands still twitched as if reaching for the grip of a trident.
He knew that look intimately. He had seen it in the mirror every single day since his own Games. The realization hit him like a physical blow. His younger sister had survived, but the girl he knew before the reaping was gone. But hopefully not entirely.
He nodded slowly, dropping his hands. "Would you like some water?"
You offered a microscopic nod, your throat feeling like sand had been baked into it. He turned to head toward the small dispenser near the door, but the sudden weight of the upcoming reality forced you to speak.
"Finnick."
He stopped, turning his head back toward you. "Yeah, bug?"
You kept your gaze anchored firmly to the floor, your expression completely stoic, masking the tremor in your chest. "When do I go home?"
Finnick's shoulders dropped. He looked around the pristine, high tech room, a deep shadow passing over his face.
"Soon," he promised quietly, his voice heavy with a truth he couldn't quite alter. "When you're all better." The door slid closed behind him, leaving you alone with the rhythmic ticking of the medical equipment.
You stared blankly at the opposite wall. The arena had been a nightmare of survival, but the terrifying uncertainty of what came next felt entirely different. In six months, the Victory Tour would force you onto a stage in front of the districts, parading you around as a symbol while the families of the tributes you left behind watched.
The thought made your stomach turn. You weren't ready for that. You didn't know if you ever would be.
Subconsciously, your fingers drifted upward to the collar of your gown, brushing against the base of your throat. A sudden shock of relief flushed through your veins.
The metal was cool against your skin. James’s necklace was still there.
During the frantic, blood soaked hours in the arena, you had been so entirely consumed by the singular instinct to survive that you had forgotten it even existed.
Now, your fingers closed tightly around the small charm, holding it against your palm like an anchor. The relief was instantly met with a sharp spike of fear. You would be seeing James soon and the thought of him looking at you terrified you more than anything in the arena had.
You took a long, deep breath, forcing the rising tide of emotion back down into the dark. You refused to cry or let the Capitol cameras see you.
Shifting your weight, you lay back down onto the pillows and pulled the heavy white blanket up to your chin. The bed was warm, the room was safe for the moment, and your body was entirely bankrupt of energy. You let your eyes close, finally surrendering to the deep, dreamless sleep you had been starved of for days.
Warning(s): mentions of blood,death,gore. Suggestive but no smut.
Note: I think we may be almost done with the story.
<<Previous JAMES MASTERLIST
You had only been to Chubby’s once before, when you were ten years old. Your dad had pulled you out of school early without your mother or brother knowing, calling it a secret birthday gift.
He had taken you straight here for lunch, telling you to "get whatever you want." You hadn’t even glanced at the kids' menu. Instead, you confidently ordered the chicken and shrimp Alfredo alongside a virgin piña colada.
When the plate had hit the table, your reaction made your dad laugh out loud. The pasta was practically a hill on the ceramic. You had barely made a dent in it before you were completely stuffed, though your festive drink was completely drained.
At the time, you hadn't understood why he had broken the rules for a random school day as your parents were usually incredibly strict about attendance. A month later, the truth came out he had cancer, and he had been hiding it, desperate to steal a perfect memory before everything changed.
You still remembered holding him tight in his hospital bed, crying, utterly terrified of a life without him.
So now, sitting across from James, looking around a dining room you hadn’t stepped into in ten years, it hit you. A sudden, heavy wave of grief tightened in your throat. You missed your dad so intensely it ached.
But you forced a soft smile at the memory, and decided to order the exact same thing for purely nostalgic reasons.
At least today you weren't wearing a school uniform. You had actually gotten the chance to dress up nice. You wore a soft white top that cinched gently at your waist, and loose sleeves. Dark, wide leg jeans fell cleanly to the floor, paired with your go to worn brown belt and matching pointed heels. (Fit)
James actually looked incredibly good, too. He wore a dark sweatshirt layered over a collared shirt, the sharp white fabric peeking out neatly at his neckline and hem. Loose black jeans hung heavily over his shoes, and he was wearing the glasses you had once told him you liked. (Fit)
You had never seen him in a collared shirt before. He looked calm, handsome, and remarkably fashionable.
He had ordered a massive, double stacked cheeseburger with a literal mountain of fries.
Looking at the sheer volume of food on the table, you figured you would both be taking leftovers back to your place.
As you watched him, though, a sense of relief washed over you. He seemed completely calm. Relaxed. He looked exactly like the James you had originally fallen for.
Chill, steady, with no signs of the erratic, terrifying outbursts from the days before. He talked normally, his eyes soft and attentive.
You conversed about easy, random things; your childhood dog, and his old stories from his hockey days, which you had always thought were cool.
"You should teach me how to skate sometime," you suggested, taking a sip of your drink.
He absolutely loved the idea, his smile genuine. "Name the day, love. I'll hold onto you the whole time."
The conversation felt safe and beautiful, until he casually steered it toward a topic that made your stomach drop. He looked around the wood paneled restaurant, casually munching on a fry.
"So, you’ve been here before?"
He didn't know the story. Your closest friends knew, since they had been around during the funeral, but you had never shared it with him. You nodded awkwardly, clearing your throat. "Uh, yeah. When I was younger."
You didn't offer anything else, hoping he'd drop it, but he studied your face intently. "Was it a special occasion?"
You nodded again, looking down at your plate. "My tenth birthday."
James nodded, popping another fry into his mouth.
You picked aimlessly at a piece of chicken in your pasta. "My dad... he, uh, took me. A surprise dad and daughter day type of thing."
"Where is he now? You never really mention him," James asked casually.
You took a slow breath, your fork coming to a halt. "He died... cancer." Your voice dropped to a quiet whisper.
An awkward, heavy silence settled over the table.
"Oh. I'm sorry," James muttered, his eyes dropping.
You waved it off quickly, wanting to dispel the dark cloud. "It's okay. You didn't know."
He looked at you, his expression shifting into something deeply pensive. "My mom... she has cancer, too."
You snapped your head up, your eyes widening in genuine shock. "What?"
"She told me recently, actually," he said, his voice tracking low.
Without thinking, empathy overriding all your recent fear, you reached across the table and grabbed his hand, squeezing it tight. "James... I am so sorry."
He let out a fake, breathy laugh, shaking his head. "It's okay. Honestly, I'm just glad I have someone now who can actually relate to it."
You nodded softly. "But... why are you out with me right now? If she's sick, you should be with her."
He sighed, his shoulders slumping. "She’s at the hospital. And, ya know... visiting hours are strict. When I'm home alone, I just... I really need somebody—"
Your phone violently buzzed against the table. You glanced down at the screen. Juni was calling. Pressing your lips together, you swiped to decline it.
"Sorry," you apologized quickly. "You were saying?"
He shook his head, his face darkening slightly. "It's fine. I don't really want to talk about it anymore anyway—"
The phone buzzed again. You let out a frustrated sigh. "Just give me one second, I'm so sorry."
You slid out of the booth. James watched you walk away, a look of profound upset crossing his face before he turned his glare down toward his food.
You walked quickly toward the front of the restaurant, stepping behind a decorative wall near the host stand to find some privacy. You pressed answer. "What?"
"Dude, can I borrow your car?" Juni’s voice came through fast and frantic.
You rolled your eyes. "For what?"
"Uhh, I have a date. And she kind of thinks I have a car."
You rubbed the bridge of your nose, completely exhausted. "Ok, fine. My house keys are—"
"Under the rock behind the bush beside the door. Yes, I know," Juni cut you off. You heard loud rustling and shuffling over the line.
As you waited, leaning against the counter to ensure she actually found the keys, you didn't notice a shadow moving in the dining room of restaurant. Back at the booth, James had silently stood up. He walked a few paces out, his eyes locked onto your back through the partition, watching you whisper into the phone for a tense, unblinking moment before he silently slid back into his seat.
"Okay, found it," Juni panted into the phone. A second later, the distinct, heavy thud of your front door echoing through the line. "Dude, why is there duct tape all over your door frame?"
Your heart skipped a beat.
Shit.
You had completely forgotten to tear it down before leaving. "Oh. James did a little... prank on me. Don't worry about it."
"Right, okay..." You heard the beep of your car alarm and the door opening. "Hey, do you still have my lighter? I think I left it in here."
"Juni, do not smoke in my car."
Over the line, you heard the plastic snap of your glove compartment clicking open. There was a sudden, dead silence on the other end.
"Woah. What the fuck is this, Y/N?" Juni asked, her voice dropping into a tone of pure bewilderment.
Your eyebrows furrowed. "What is what?"
"'One Wish Willow,'" she read aloud, sounding out the text on whatever she was holding.
Your eyes widened in pure, unadulterated terror. The memory of the stupid novelty item and the terrifying spiral your life had taken since using it.
"Juni, put that back right now!" you hissed into the receiver, your voice a panicked whisper.
"Why? Why do you have this?" she questioned, intrigued by your reaction.
"Just put it back!" you shouted quietly.
"Okay, okay, geez!" You heard the loud snap of the glove compartment slamming shut.
You tried to steady your breathing, desperately needing to wrap this up. "Look, I gotta go. Have fun on your date."
"You too," the phone beeped as she hung up.
You took a deep breath, smoothing down your top, and walked back to the booth. James was already staring at you, his eyes wide and completely unblinking behind his glasses.
"Sorry about that," you said, sliding back into the seat. "Juni has a date and needed to borrow my car. Are you alright?"
He nodded slowly, a calm, mechanical smile returning to his face. "Yeah. Just... no more interruptions, please."
Wanting to prove your compliance and keep the peace, you unlocked your phone, flipped it onto Do Not Disturb, and showed the screen to him. His smile widened, looking completely satisfied.
"Okay," you smiled, trying to keep the mood light. "What's after this?"
He leaned forward across the table, his eyes locking onto yours with an intense, possessive darkness that made the hairs on your arms stand up. He smirked delicately.
"You'll see."
He pushed you down onto the bed, your body hitting the mattress with a soft, muted thud. The weight of the day seemed to vanish as his lips pressed firmly against yours. He held his upper body up with his arms, creating a protective, intense canopy over you, while his knee slid deliberately between your legs, anchoring you to the spot. Your hands wandered up his chest, feeling the frantic, heavy beat of his heart.
He pulled away just a fraction of an inch, his eyes dark and entirely focused on you. "You want this?" he whispered, his breath hot against your lips.
You nodded quickly, the desperation for a moment of genuine closeness overriding the lingering dread.
His lips curved into a delicate, knowing smirk. "Words, pretty."
You let out a soft sigh, your back arching slightly off the mattress as the tension broke. "Yes... please, Jamie."
He let out a low hum of pure pleasure at the name, leaning down to claim your lips once more. The kiss shifted, becoming softer, more deliberate, as one of his hands slid down to rest firmly against your hip. He shifted his weight, his hips grinding into yours with a sudden, heavy pressure that made a quiet whine catch in your throat.
"I'm gonna show you how much I love you," he murmured against your ear, his voice sending a shiver straight down your spine.
His lips left your mouth, tracing a burning path down the sensitive skin of your neck. He reached for the hem of your shirt, slowly peeling it upward as his kisses trailed down your stomach, moving with an excruciating, agonizing slowness until he hovered right where the desperate ache in your body needed him most.
---
At first, it was good. It was exactly what you had been craving. The passion, the heat, the intense focus of the boy you fell in love with. He was entirely present for the first part, his hands warm against your skin as clothes were slowly peeled away, the intimacy growing closer and more urgent by the second.
But as the encounter deepened, something went entirely wrong. It was as if a part of him suddenly just shut off.
By the time he was moving above you, his head had dropped down. He wasn't looking at your face anymore. His eyes were wide, unblinking, and fixed entirely on the mattress beneath him, completely dissociating from the moment. His mouth hung slightly open, and though low, ragged moans escaped his throat, his face was entirely blank, devoid of any real look of pleasure or connection.
He was going through the motions, but his mind seemed miles away, trapped in whatever dark space he had been operating from all week.
You had been enjoying the closeness, but the moment you realized he had faded out, the attraction completely died. A cold chill washed over you. The fact that he wasn't looking at you, that he didn't even seem to really be there in the room with you, turned you off completely. You felt an unsettling emptiness, enduring the rest of the moment in a tense, uncomfortable silence.
When it was over, the lingering tension in the room was suffocating. You immediately got up to shower—separately, not together, which made James’s face fall into that familiar, childlike sadness.
You didn't care.
You just needed to wash the cold feeling off your skin. You went first, taking a quick, efficient shower before wrapping yourself in a towel and heading back to the bedroom.
James silently took your place in the bathroom, the door clicking shut behind him.
You quickly changed into your pajamas and slid under the covers, trying to get comfortable beneath the sheets and shake off the deep unease settling in your chest. Just as the sound of the running water filled the hallway, your phone buzzed on the nightstand. You picked it up, seeing a notification light up the screen.
It was a text from the group chat.
If you tried to leave while James was conscious, he would slap you with a hundred frantic questions, freak out, or worse, refuse to let you go.
A moment later, the hiss of the shower cut out. The bathroom door swung open, and a soft, warm wave of humidity rolled into the bedroom. James stepped through the frame shirtless, wearing a pair of baggy gray sweatpants you had forced him to borrow from your brother's drawer.
He dragged himself over to the bed, letting his body fall heavily onto the mattress, and smushed his face straight into the pillow with a dramatic sigh.
Despite the knot of tension in your stomach, you forced a small, soft giggle. "Long day?"
He let out a muffled groan in response. "Yeah... I just wanna sleep."
He shifted, scooting his body closer to yours until there was no space left. His arm wrapped tightly around your waist, pulling you flush against his chest. He rested his chin on the top of your head, pressing a long, lingering kiss into your hair. "Goodnight, pretty."
You leaned up slightly, pressing a gentle kiss to his bare shoulder. "Goodnight, Jamie."
Then, you waited.
You stayed perfectly still in the dark, your eyes wide as you stared at the wall, listening intently to the rhythm of his breathing.
You waited for the deep, slow thuds of his chest, searching for any definitive sign that he had finally drifted off. Minutes ticked by like hours.
Finally, you felt the heavy grip around your waist loosen. His head shifted slightly against yours, his muscles going completely slack.
That was your cue.
Slowly, millimeter by millimeter, you began to crawl out from beneath his arm. You lifted the heavy bedsheets with agonizing steadiness, making sure the fabric didn't rustle. Your feet hit the cold floor, and a wave of relief washed over you.
You had successfully gotten out of the bed.
Tiptoeing across the room, you reached the closet door, carefully sliding it open to grab a large hoodie, slipping it over your head. You turned and crept toward the bedroom door, your fingers wrapping around the brass knob. You turned it inch by inch, pulling the door open just enough to slip through, when a sound stopped you dead in your tracks.
It was a whisper.
It was incredibly weak, trembling, and sounded absolutely terrified.
Was that... James?
You froze, your breath catching in your throat. You turned your head slowly, looking back at the bed through the shadows. He was still lying there, his mouth slightly open, his body completely motionless in deep sleep. But his lips were moving.
"Y/N..." the whisper came again, raspy and desperate.
You didn't dare say a word. You just stared, paralyzed.
"Y/N, please... kill me."
A cold, sickening confusion slammed into you.
Why would he say that? What was happening?
"Please," the sleeping figure whispered, a tear visibly catching the faint moonlight as it leaked down his cheek. "It's asleep right now... Don't let me go on like this. Please..."
You stared at his sleeping, talking form, a primal terror gripping your chest. The realization hit you like a physical blow.
The boy you loved was trapped inside his own mind, a prisoner to whatever entity your wish had brought into your life.
Terrified, you backed out of the room slowly, your hand trembling on the door frame. "I'm sorry," you whispered into the dark.
As the bedroom door clicked shut, you caught one last, faint plea from the other side. You didn't wait. You bolted down the hallway, frantically grabbing your shoes and your keys from the counter. Your phone was already shoved deep into your hoodie pocket. You opened the front door, slipping past the torn remnants of the silver duct tape, and ran.
You ran all the way to the neighborhood park. It wasn't a far jog, and you knew you'd be driving back with your car anyway.
As the dark outline of the park playground came into view, you spotted the headlights of your own vehicle idling near the curb.
Juni was in the driver's seat, gripping the wheel. Hani was in her usual spot in the passenger seat. Ronnie was sitting in the back left, right behind Juni. And Nara was leaning against the back right door, her arms crossed as she kept a vigilant lookout for you in the dark.
The moment Nara's eyes locked onto your running figure, she threw the back door open. You scrambled inside without a word, squeezing yourself tightly onto the middle of the bench seat, completely sandwiched between the protective presence of Ronnie and Nara as the door slammed shut behind you.
You lean your head back against the seat, your chest heaving as you try to catch your breath from the panicked run. "Okay," you gasp, looking around the cramped, dark interior of your car. "What is it?"
Juni and Hani immediately twist around in the front seats, their faces pale under the dim dome light. Juni reaches into her jacket and pulls out the small, cracked One Wish Willow box.
The exact one you had desperately used and then frantically discarded.
Your eyes widen, and you look at her in total confusion. "Why do you have that?"
"I took it from the glove compartment Y/N," Juni says, her voice trembling.
Beside you, Ronnie and Nara raise their eyebrows, their expressions heavy with disbelief.
"what, I told you to put it back!" you exclaim, your voice cracking.
Juni nods quickly, trying to keep the car focused. "Okay, look. I had to make sure what I was seeing was true. I’ve seen this thing before. It’s an antique. It is incredibly rare to find one. My mom, who is intensely, deeply religious, mind you, always told me this specific kind of object is the devil's work. I don't really believe a lot of the spiritual stuff she talks about, but after I saw it in your car, it scared me so much that.. I went online to look it up."
You lean forward, squeezing yourself closer between the two front seats. "How is it bad, Juni?"
Juni lets out a heavy, shuddering sigh. "Some people just keep it as a collectible they never open. But some people actually open it, and they say it works. They say the wishes come true. And looking at everything happening right now... I believe them."
Ronnie cuts in, crossing his arms and scoffing defensively. "You believe in magic? Seriously?" He looks from Juni to you, his skepticism masking a deep, growing panic.
Juni completely ignores him, keeping her eyes locked onto yours. "Y/N. What did you wish for?"
The car goes entirely dead silent. Everyone in the vehicle turns their heads to look at you. You can’t bear their gaze, so you stare straight out the front windshield into the pitch black park.
Hani leans in closer from the passenger side, her voice barely a whisper. "Y/N... I don’t know if all this internet stuff is true, but we all have our suspicions about why he's acting like this. Please just tell us."
Your throat burns violently, making it almost impossible to swallow. The sheer, suffocating weight of your guilt crashes down on you, and hot tears finally brim in your eyes, spilling over your cheeks.
"I wished... I wished James would love me more than anything else in the world," you sob.
The silence that follows is deafening. You can practically see the horrific realization dawning across each of their faces. All the pieces—always wanting to be by your side, the locked door, the crying fits, the sudden angry outbursts, clicked into place.
Ronnie looks completely shell shocked, shaking his head. "That... that can't be scientifically possible. It's a coincidence."
Nara, however, looks like she is descending into a deep, dark thought. "Okay, but if it's vintage and practically impossible to find... how did you even get your hands on one, Y/N?"
You let out a broken sigh, leaning your weight back into the cushions of the seat. "I didn't go out and find it, Nara. It found me."
Hani looks at you, a profound look of disturbance twisting her features. "What!?"
You nod miserably. "I don't know. Maybe it... maybe it just looks for desperate souls."
Juni aggressively wipes a hand across her face, trying to break the heavy dread settling over the car. "Okay, so what are we gonna do? We can't just leave him like this. He could be dangerous."
Nara points a sharp finger at the tiny box in Juni's hand. "Is there a manufacturer's number? Or a helpline printed anywhere on the box?"
Everyone leans forward at the same time, crowding around the console as Juni holds the small box up to the faint dashboard light, searching the fine print.
Your eyebrows furrow, you distinctly remember reading that box, and you never saw a single phone number.
Juni pulls the box practically an inch from her face, squinting hard. Suddenly, her jaw drops. "What the fuck..."
"What?" everyone demands in a frantic, unison chorus.
Juni scoffs, a nervous, hysterical edge to her voice. "Who the fuck prints a helpline number this fucking small? It looks like a microscopic scratch."
Hani throws her hand out. "Let me see."
Juni hands it over immediately. Hani grabs her phone, whips on the flashlight, and takes a high resolution picture of the bottom of the box before pinching the screen to zoom in as far as the pixels will allow. She reads the digits aloud to Juni, who quickly dials the number on her own phone and puts it on speaker.
It rings.
Then, it picks up. The line crackles with static before a man's voice answers. His tone is incredibly flat, completely bored, as if he's working a mundane desk job.
"Hello."
Juni is incredibly quick to reply, her voice shaking. You lean your entire upper body between the driver and passenger seats to get closer to the speaker. "Hi! Yes! I'm calling about... about canceling a wish. We need to undo something."
The man lets out a slow, entirely uninterested hum over the static. "We don't really do that."
A wave of pure shock slams into you. Before Juni can even process the words, you violently snatch the phone right out of her hand, bringing it to your ear. "What?! What do you mean you don't do that?!"
The guy just lets out a heavy, tired sigh on the other end. "You can't undo a wish, kid. You can't alter a wish either once it's been cast."
You look at your friends, completely devastated, your chest tightening in sheer terror. "So... so he's just supposed to stay like that forever?! Obsessed with me?!"
There is a long, agonizing pause on the other side of the line. The quiet rustling of papers can be heard. "Yeah. Basically. Or, you can die."
Your heart stops dead in your chest.
Inside the car, every single person completely freezes. The temperature in the vehicle feels like it drops twenty degrees.
"What?" you whisper, your voice cracking into nothing. "No... no, there has to be another way. Please."
More empty static. More silence. "Unless you can miraculously get your hands on another 'One Wish Willow' and have someone else use it to stop it... the easier way out of the wish is just for you to die."
Fresh, heavy tears cascade down your face, your hands shaking violently against the phone. "No, no! Where can I even find another one?! I just want him back the way he was before! Please, you have to help me!"
There is a strange, sudden shuffling sound on the other end of the line, followed by the distant sound of a heavy door creaking open. "It's not easy to find," the bored voice repeats. "But don't worry. James will come back to himself the exact second you die."
You freeze, the words chilling you to the bone. Your breath hitches. "I... I never gave you his name."
An unsettling, pitch black silence stretches over the phone line. When the man speaks again, his voice isn't bored anymore. It's horribly smooth.
"Yeah. I know. I have James right here."
Your eyebrows furrow in absolute terror. Looking around the car, you see that Nara, Ronnie, Juni, and Hani all have unshed tears of pure, primal fear shining in their eyes.
"Would you like to talk to him?" the man asks politely.
Before you can even give a response, the line sharply cuts to a sound that tears through the phone speaker. It’s James.
He is screaming, blood curdling, agonizing human shriek of pure torment, as if he is being ripped apart from the inside out. He screams and screams, until suddenly, that horrible, distorted, demonic guttural roar tears out of his throat, completely overtaking his voice.
The line instantly goes dead.
The silence in the car is broken by Juni entirely losing her mind. She starts screaming, slapping her hands against the steering wheel. "What the fuck! What the actual fuck was that?! Y/N! What did you do?! What did you bring?!"
You bury your face in your hands, crying hysterically, your voice cracking as you scream back at her. "I don't know, man! I don't know!"
Suddenly, the phone in your hand starts buzzing violently. It doesn't stop. It vibrates rapidly, a relentless barrage of notifications. You stare down at it through a blur of tears, entirely overcome and paralyzed by the demonic sound you just heard.
Ronnie looks around at everyone, his voice trembling with a terrifying, logical deduction. "If... if whatever that was has James... then where did the real James go? Who is at your house right now?"
Your phone continues to buzz with a sickening frequency. Shaking, you force yourself to look at the screen.
It's a string of texts from James.
The next message makes your heart completely stop. Your jaw drops slightly, your breath catching in your throat as a cold, paralyzing numbness spreads down your spine.
You slowly lower the phone, your eyes wide with a horrific realization. The angle of the photo it was taken directly from the left side of the vehicle. Right outside Ronnie and Juni’s windows.
You look over at Ronnie in pure, unadulterated fear. He catches your expression, looking back at you in total confusion.
"What—" he starts to ask.
Ronnie barely got the word out before a head slammed violently into the his side window. The glass exploded inward with a deafening crack, shards spraying across the seats and floorboards as everyone in the car jolted in shock.
James appeared through the shattered window.
Before Ronnie could even react, James grabbed him by the throat through the broken glass, shoving him hard against the seat. Ronnie let out a choked gasp, hands instantly grabbing at James’s wrist, but James was already reaching down with his other hand.
A brick.
You didn’t even process where he got it from.
James held the brick directly in front of Ronnie’s face, gripping the back of Ronnie’s head with brutal force. For half a second Ronnie’s eyes widened in realization. James slammed his face forward into the brick.
The sound was horrifying. A heavy crack followed instantly by screaming.
Blood splattered everwhere. Ronnie cried out, disoriented, trying to pull away, but James just tightened his grip and dragged him forward again.
The entire car shook with the force of it. Broken glass dug deeper into Ronnie’s skin every time James jerked him forward. Blood poured down his face so fast it looked unreal, splashing across your hoodie and cheeks as you sat frozen beside him.
“James stop!” someone screamed from inside the car.
But he didn’t. He kept holding the brick steady while smashing Ronnie’s face into it over and over again, each hit more brutal than the last. Ronnie’s cries turned into weak gargled noises. His body twitched helplessly against the seat while the inside of the car became coated in blood.
You could barely recognize him anymore.
His nose looked flattened, skin split open across his face, blood running into his mouth as broken teeth scattered across his lap. One eye was swollen nearly shut while the other stared unfocused through the blood covering it.
Everyone in the car was screaming, crying now.
Finally James stopped.
His breathing was ragged as blood dripped from his head, hands and the brick. Ronnie slumped motionless against the seat, barely upright only because James still had a fist tangled in the back of his shirt.
The metallic smell of blood filled your lungs so thickly it made you nauseous.
A sharp, horrified sound tore out of your throat as you stared at Ronnie sitting there destroyed, blood smeared across the shattered window and soaking into your clothes.
James’s expression changed immediately at the sound. The rage vanished from his face, replaced with panic as he dropped the brick and reached for you. Opening Ronnie's door—his body falling onto the pavement.
“No, baby, no—” he said quickly, pulling you against his chest before you could look any longer. “I’m sorry. It’s okay. Don’t look at him. Don’t look.”
Behind him, your entire friend group stood frozen, crying openly, while trying not to look directly at what was once their friend.
James pulled you tightly against him, trying to calm your shaking body. His hand moved slowly through your hair, whispering soft apologies into the top of your head, but it only made everything worse. His hands were still smeared with blood. It stained your already bloodied hoodie, your skin, even your neck where he held you too close.
You couldn’t stop shaking.
Around the car, everyone stood frozen in shock. Hani was crying openly, clutching onto Juni while Nara stared blankly at the ground like her mind had completely shut down. Nobody knew what to say. Nobody even seemed able to breathe correctly.
James finally looked up at them, his chest still rising heavily. He cleared his throat, voice calmer now, almost casual despite the horror surrounding all of you.
“Look,” he said quietly, “you guys gotta help me move him.”
Hani immediately shook her head through tears. “No… no…”
James’s jaw tightened. “You wanna go to jail?” he snapped.
That shut everyone up.
Hani cried harder, covering her mouth while shaking her head again. Nobody argued after that.
James turned back toward you, softer again the second his eyes landed on your face.
“Put him in your truck.”
You stared at him for a second, unable to process the words. Then you nodded numbly.
Everything after that felt unreal. Like watching someone else move your body.
You opened the back of the truck with trembling hands while the others stood nearby in terrified silence. Nobody spoke as Ronnie was moved into the bed of the truck. The sound of Hani crying quietly in the background made your stomach twist harder than it already was.
James shoved Juni and Hani into the backseat before climbing behind the wheel himself. You sat in the passenger seat, stiff and silent, your hands locked together so tightly they hurt.
The drive felt endless. Nobody talked. Only the sound of shaky breathing filled the car.
Eventually James pulled into an abandoned skate park on the edge of town. The place looked dead even in the dark. Rusted ramps, cracked concrete, weeds growing through everything. Hardly anyone came there anymore.
The air felt colder when you stepped out.
Together, you, James, Nara, and Juni dragged Ronnie farther toward the woods behind the park while Hani stayed near the car crying. Your legs felt weak the entire time, like they could give out beneath you at any second.
"I’ll deal with it later,” James muttered once it was done.
No one answered him.
After that he drove everyone home one by one. Every person who stepped out of the truck looked completely hollow, the night had carved something permanent out of them.
When you finally got home, your body still hadn’t stopped trembling.
You walked inside on unsteady legs, staring blankly ahead while trying not to think. Your hands shook so badly you could barely pull your hoodie sleeves down over them.
James closed the front door behind him and looked at you carefully. “I’m sorry,” he said quietly.
You turned toward him slowly, disbelief written all over your face.
“He liked you, Y/N.”
You shook your head immediately. “No he didn’t—”
“Yes he did.”
“No—”
“Yes he did!” James shouted suddenly.
You flinched as he grabbed your face in both hands, forcing you to look at him. His eyes were wild now, desperate more than angry.
“He can’t have you,” he said sharply. “You’re mine. Only mine, okay? We’re gonna be together forever.”
Your heart pounded painfully in your chest. You nodded.
Not because you believed him. Because you were scared not to.
“Okay,” you whispered.
But deep down, the only thing you could think about was getting as far away from him as possible.
Note: so I watched the movie which really helped me understand the story more. So I'll be using certain scenes as inspo but my ending will be different from the movie.
<<Previous JAMES MASTERLIST
The afternoon stretched out, thick and quiet. James hadn't left since he came over. Instead, he had quietly seamlessly integrated himself into the space. He made lunch, the sounds of clinking silverware and moving plates echoing from the kitchen while the television droned in the living room.
When he returned, he sat so close that there was absolutely no space between you. His shoulder pressed firmly against yours, his thigh anchoring your leg to the cushion. He handed you the plate, but he didn't have one for himself.
You took a bite, chewing slowly, hyper aware of his gaze. He wasn't watching the screen. He was watching your jaw move, his eyes tracking every swallow. Feeling the weight of his attention, you reached up, gently tilting his chin toward the television. "Watch the show," you murmured.
It was an old rerun of Friends, the familiar canned laughter filling the room, but the distraction didn’t last. Within minutes, James’s head turned back to you. His arm slid over your shoulders, his grip tightening as he pulled you flush against his side. He leaned in, pressing a soft, lingering kiss to your cheek while you chewed.
You offered a small, polite smile and used your hand to guide his face back toward the TV once more. This time, his smile faded completely as his gaze was forced away, his expression flattening into something unreadable.
As you wiped a few stray crumbs off your lap, the sudden vibration and ring of your phone broke the silence.
You looked down at the screen, then up at James. He was already staring, his brow slightly furrowed, clearly bothered by the interruption. Seeing the caller ID, you held up an index finger 'just a moment' and stood up, walking into the kitchen for some privacy.
"What?" you said into the receiver, your tone sharp.
"Damn, who twisted your panties?" your brother’s voice crackled through the speaker.
"Fuck off," you muttered, leaning against the kitchen counter and staring blankly at the refrigerator.
He ignored the hostility. "Look, I’m gonna be at Emma’s for a few days. She’s moving out of her place and needs help packing and hauling stuff."
"Okay, so you're saying I'm gonna be alone for what? A week, possibly?" you asked, shifting your weight.
"Yeah, basically. So don't burn down the house or have parties or whatever. Alright, I gotta go, Emma's calling me," he said rapidly, hanging up without waiting for a goodbye.
You lowered the phone, letting out a heavy sigh.
"Everything alright?"
You gasped, jumping backward. James was suddenly standing right beside you, his presence so silent you hadn't heard a single footstep on the hardwood floor.
He let out a soft, melodic chuckle at your reaction. "Sorry, love. Didn't mean to scare you."
You swallowed hard, forcing a bright smile to your face to cover the sudden spike of adrenaline. "It's okay. You didn't mean to."
He nodded, his eyes locked onto yours, unblinking. "So, what was the phone call about?"
"Oh, nothing really," you dismissed lightly, trying to keep the tone casual. "My brother just called to say he's helping his girlfriend move, so I’ll have the house to myself for a bit."
An immediate, intense wave of excitement washed over James’s face. The change was palpable. "Really?"
You stared at him, a flicker of unease twisting in your stomach at how intensely happy the news made him. "Uh, yeah. Why?"
Instead of answering, he stepped into your space, his hands gripping your waist tightly as he pulled you against him. One hand moved up to cup your cheek, tilting your head back as he kissed you deeply, a sudden, possessive surge of energy behind it. When he finally pulled away, his breath was shallow.
"Can I stay?" he asked.
You blinked, taken aback. "Stay? As in... stay here, in my house?"
He nodded, a wide, boyish smile returning to his face. "Yes, dummy."
You shook your head slightly, a instinctual feeling of caution making you hesitate. "James, I don't think that's a good idea. It's a bit fast, and—"
Before you could finish the sentence, the smile vanished from his face as if it had never been there. His eyes welled with immediate, heavy tears, the rims turning a stark, crimson red.
"Why?" he cried out, his voice cracking with a sudden, childlike despair. He stepped back, his shoulders shaking as big tears began to spill down his cheeks. "Why can't I stay?"
The sheer speed of the emotional shift struck you silent. "James... James, are you okay?" you asked, stepping forward, genuine concern mixed with a growing sense of bewilderment.
"I just want to sleep beside you," he sobbed, burying his face in his hands, his voice dropping into a desperate, pleading whine. "Baby, please. Please let me stay."
The erratic outburst left you feeling completely off balance, the atmosphere in the kitchen suddenly feeling incredibly tight. Wanting nothing more than to stop the crying and restore some calm, you held up your hands. "Okay, okay! Just... stop crying. It's fine. You can stay."
The moment the words left your mouth, the crying stopped instantly. James lowered his hands, his face completely clear of distress, and a bright, radiant smile snapped back onto his features. He looked perfectly content, as if the breakdown had never happened, leaving a lingering, chilling silence in the room.
---
The transition from evening to night felt abrupt, as if the darkness had settled over the house too quickly. When you finally walked into your bedroom, James was already there, propped up against the pillows, entirely at ease in your space. The stark overhead light cast sharp shadows across his face, but he offered a small, remarkably soft smile as you entered.
"Look, I’m sorry about how I acted earlier," he said, his voice quiet, almost vulnerable. He tracked your movements as you walked toward the bed. "I don’t know why I did that. I just... I got overwhelmed."
You gave a tight nod, wanting to accept the apology if only to keep the peace. You walked to the other side of the bed to pull back the covers, but as you looked down, your brow furrowed. The space felt wrong. Empty.
"Hey," you asked, looking around the immediate area. "Where’s my monkey?"
"Oh, I put him away," James replied casually, his tone incredibly dismissive. "You won't need him tonight."
A cold knot formed in your stomach. You looked around the room, your eyes scanning the shelves, the chair, the floor but the plushie you had owned since you were three years old, the one constant comfort in your life, was nowhere to be seen. It had been systematically removed from the room. Whatever sense of security you had left completely vanished, replaced by a sudden, hollow vulnerability.
Without a word, you lay down, the mattress shifting instantly as James moved with you. He didn't wait. His arm slid around your waist, pulling you backward against him with a grip that felt less like a hug and more like a restraint. He shifted until your head was forced against his chest, squeezing you so tightly it was hard to take a full breath. He pressed a firm kiss to your forehead, then tilted your chin up to kiss your lips deeply before letting out a long, contented sigh.
"This is nice," he murmured into the dark.
You stared up at him, studying his features in the dim light filtering through the window. He was still undeniably beautiful.
The sharp jawline, the dark eyes. And against your own better judgment, the visceral attraction you felt for him hadn't faded. But the version of the man you had originally fallen for felt entirely gone, replaced by someone unpredictable and strange.
Trying to find a piece of the familiarity you craved, you reached up and placed your palm against his cheek. He leaned into your touch immediately, closing his eyes.
"Goodnight, James," you whispered.
His eyes snapped open. He shook his head, a sudden tightness returning to his jaw.
"What?" you asked, your heart ticking upward.
"Stop calling me James," he said, his voice flat.
"Then... what do you want me to call you?"
"Yours," he said, his expression softening into an intense, unblinking stare. "I want to be yours officially. I want you to call me baby, love, handsome, sweetheart... whatever you want. Just not that."
In the heavy silence that followed, a chilling realization washed over you. Through everything that had happened the last few days, he had never actually asked you to be his girlfriend. He was simply demanding the title. Looking at the intensity in his eyes, a quiet, distinct fear crept in. You realized you were terrified of what might happen if you said no.
"Yes," you whispered, the word tasting like a surrender.
A radiant, blinding smile broke across his face. He leaned down, kissing your lips one more time with a sudden, triumphant fervor before settling back into the pillows.
"Goodnight, beautiful," he whispered against your hair.
You swallowed the lump in your throat, forcing the word out. "Goodnight... handsome."
---
You opened your eyes— triggered by a cold draft where there should have been heat. The heavy, constricting weight of his arm was gone.— blinking against the pitch black silence of the room. You rolled onto your side, reaching out, but your hand only met cold, empty sheets.
You sat up slowly, one eye squinting as your vision adjusted to the shadows, trying to find where he had gone.
In the farthest, darkest corner of your bedroom, James was standing. He was perfectly still, a solid silhouette cut out against the faint moonlight filtering through the blinds. He wasn't moving. He was just standing there in the dark, staring directly at the bed. Staring at you.
A cold dread pooled in your stomach, but you tried to keep your voice level, desperate to pull him back into a normal reality. "Baby..." you murmured, the pet name feeling heavy and unnatural on your tongue. "What are you doing? Come back to bed."
He didn't budge. His voice came out of the darkness, low and entirely devoid of inflection. "I couldn’t sleep. And you looked so pretty."
The hair on the back of your neck stood on end. Panic surged through you, hot and sharp, making it difficult to breathe. Every instinct in your body was screaming that you were unsafe, that the person standing in the corner was completely unpredictable. You felt utterly trapped in your own bed.
"Okay... um, just come back to sleep," you pleaded softly, trying not to let the tremor in your voice show.
His silhouette shifted, just a fraction of an inch. "You go back to sleep."
"James—"
"Go back to sleep!"
The command tore through the quiet room, but it wasn't his voice anymore. The sound was horribly distorted, shifting into something unnaturally deep and guttural, a ragged, demonic echo.
The sheer force of it shocked you into submission. Without another word, you dropped back down onto the mattress, violently pulling the blankets up to your chin.
You turned your back to the dark corner, curling into a tight ball, your heart hammering frantically against your ribs like a trapped bird. You tightly squeezed your eyes shut, forcing your breathing to slow so he wouldn't know you were awake, terrified of what he might do if you opened them again.
The morning light broke through the blinds, casting pale, lines across the bedroom floor. The heavy, oppressive dread of the night had lifted slightly with the sun, but the memory of that distorted, unnatural voice still echoed in your mind.
You rolled over. He wasn’t in bed. Instead of a chilling silence, the house was filled with the warm, savory aroma of frying bacon.
You sat up, taking a tentative breath. You didn't head downstairs immediately. Needing a sense of normalcy and a barrier between yourself and whatever had happened in the dark.
You meticulously picked out your work clothes and locked yourself in the bathroom for a long, hot shower.
To your relief, you weren't interrupted. You were able to wash, dry off, and pull on your uniform without a sound from the rest of the house.
Once dressed and armed with the familiar routine of a workday, you finally made your way downstairs.
When you reached the kitchen, the scene was almost jarringly domestic. James was standing by the stove, carefully plating a massive breakfast. Thick strips of bacon, fluffy pancakes, scrambled eggs, and sausage. The terrifying silhouette from the corner of the room was gone, replaced by a man looking completely at peace in an apron.
He turned and caught sight of you, his face instantly lighting up with a warm, bright smile. "Hungry, baby?" he asked softly.
You looked at the spread, surprised by the sheer amount of effort he had put in. The food smelled incredible, and despite the knot of anxiety in your stomach, you realized you were starving. A small, tentative smile formed on your lips. "Yes, actually."
You walked over and took the seat he had already pulled out for you. "Thank you," you added, looking up at him.
"Of course," he murmured, sitting down right next to you, his thigh immediately pressing against yours just like the day before.
You began to eat, the quiet clinking of silverware filling the space. For a few moments, everything felt almost normal. Then, James broke the silence.
"So, what are we doing today?" he asked, his tone bright with anticipation.
Your fork slowed mid air. You swallowed your bite, a familiar tension creeping back into your shoulders. "I have work."
His face fell instantly. A heavy look of disappointment settled over his features, his brows knitting together as if the concept of you having a life outside of this kitchen completely baffled him. He had entirely forgotten you worked weekends. "Oh... well, maybe I'll stop by or something."
"No," you said quickly, trying to keep your voice smooth and nonthreatening. "Just stay here, make yourself at home, and I’ll be back when I’m done."
You finished the last few bites of your food, eager for the escape your job suddenly offered. Standing up, you grabbed your purse from the counter and made a beeline for the exit.
James followed you closely, his heavy footsteps trailing right behind yours as you reached the front door. Your heart stopped. Thick, silver bands of duct tape had been layered across the frame, sealing the edges of the door to the wall.
Your pulse skyrocketed, but a survival instinct told you not to react, not to show him you were panicking. Pretending it was just a strange, normal occurrence, you grabbed the handle and yanked it. The tape held fast. You tried again, rattling the handle with a simulated casualness, though your knuckles were white.
"You can always stay," James said from behind you. His voice was casual, almost sweet, but the underlying threat hung heavily in the air.
"Nope. No, I got it," you muttered through tight teeth. Leaning your weight into it, you gave a hard, desperate grunt and forced the door open, the sound of the adhesive ripping away loud and violent in the small entryway.
You stepped over the threshold, ready to sprint into the safety of the daylight, but he stepped into your path, stopping you in your tracks.
"You're going to leave without a goodbye kiss?" he asked.
His eyes locked onto yours, his lips already puckered in wait. He stood between you and the open air, a physical barrier you couldn't just push past.
Wanting nothing more than to end the interaction and get out into the open, you stepped closer. You leaned up and gave him a quick, firm kiss on the lips. Before he could deepen it or trap you in his arms, you pulled away, slipped past him, and finally broke out into the morning air.
---
The drive to work was a blur of white knuckled gripping on the steering wheel. When you finally pulled into the grocery store parking lot, you turned off the engine and just sat there, letting out a long, shuddering sigh against the steering wheel. For the first time in twenty four hours, you were entirely alone.
Stepping inside the store, the bright fluorescent lights and the familiar hum of the refrigerators offered a bizarre sense of comfort. Coworkers you barely knew smiled and nodded as you walked past, completely unaware of the nightmare brewing in your house.
As you reached the time clock, Nara and Ronnie descended on you immediately. The concern on Nara's face was painfully obvious.
"Ronnie told me James came by yesterday," she said, her voice dropped to a low, worried whisper. "Are you okay?"
You forced your features into a calm mask, swiping your badge. "I'm fine. He just wanted to see me," you told her, before turning your gaze to Ronnie. You needed to defuse whatever tension was building between them. "He also said he's sorry about... What happened."
It was a total lie. James hadn't expressed a shred of remorse for how he’d treated Ronnie but you desperately needed Ronnie to drop it. You didn't want James triggered again.
Ronnie hummed, crossing his arms tightly over his chest, his jaw set. "Then why doesn't he come say it to my face?"
You just shrugged, offering a weak 'I don't know' gesture, hoping the subject would die.
The next few hours passed in a tedious, mind numbing routine. Scanning groceries, bagging items, and forced to do mental math because the older customers insisted on using cash instead of cards. Your brain was exhausted, constantly split between counting change and picturing the silver duct tape layered over your front door.
Finally, your lunch break arrived. Your legs ached from hours of standing as you dragged yourself into the cramped, windowless employee breakroom. Nara and Ronnie were already sitting at the small table. You slid into the empty chair between them, staring blankly at the chipped Formica tabletop.
"Hey," Nara said gently, bumping her shoulder against yours to get your attention. She was studying your face. "What's up? You seem completely spaced out."
You blinked, snapping back to reality, and tried to ground yourself. "Nothing."
"We're all hanging out later at Martin's place, if you want to come?" she asked, her eyes hopeful.
Before you could even process the invitation, Ronnie cut in sharply. "No James, though."
Nara snapped her head around, glaring daggers at him. Ronnie didn't back down, meeting her gaze defensively. "What?! He shoved me into the lockers. I don't want to be anywhere near him right now."
A massive weight settled on your chest. You rubbed your face with both hands, feeling an overwhelming exhaustion deep in your bones, before letting out a heavy sigh. "Okay... I'll see what I can do. Who else is going to be there?"
Nara turned back to you, her expression softening. "Me and Ronnie, Hani, Juni, Martin obviously, Sean, Keonho, and Juhoon."
You nodded slowly, piecing the names together. "So, basically our group and James's entire friend group... just without James."
"Basically," Ronnie confirmed with a firm nod, entirely unapologetic.
You looked down, picking anxiously at your cuticles, the skin raw from the nervous habit. A cold realization sank in. "Do the guys... do his own friends not want him there?"
Nara hesitated, shifting uncomfortably in her plastic chair. She exchanged a quick, loaded look with Ronnie before answering quietly. "They just said... they said he’s been acting really weird lately. Like, volatile. They want to give him a little space right now until he calms down."
The breakroom suddenly felt incredibly small, the air thick and hard to swallow. His own best friends were backing away from him because they knew something was wrong and you were currently keeping him unlocked in your house, waiting for you to come home.
"Okay," you murmured. You pushed yourself up from the table, your chair scraping loudly against the linoleum.
"You're not gonna eat?" Ronnie asked, frowning at your empty hands.
You shook your head, the mere thought of food making your stomach churn with nausea. "Not hungry."
Without waiting for them to say anything else, you turned and walked out of the breakroom, slipping quietly back into the crowded aisles of the store, dreading the moment your shift would finally end.
The walk to your car at the end of your shift was the slowest you had ever walked. Your feet felt like lead, dragging across the asphalt of the parking lot. When you finally climbed inside, you leaned your head hard against the steering wheel, letting out a breath that felt like it had been trapped in your lungs all day.
What a nightmare. The guy you were desperately in love with turned terrifying, and obsessive all because you had made a stupid, thoughtless wish. Now he wouldn't leave you alone, and the only brief sanctuary you had left was the hours you clocked in at a grocery store.
You finally turned the key, the engine roaring to life, and drove home. You purposely kept your speed just slightly under the limit, stretching out the minutes, desperately trying to enjoy the fleeting moments of pure, uninterrupted 'you' time.
But eventually, you pulled into the driveway. Your shoulders slumped as you walked up the porch. You slid your key into the lock, pushing the front door open, stepping inside, and immediately clicking it shut behind you.
You turned around to head into the living room, and your heart stopped. You stumbled backward, your spine slamming hard against the wood of the front door.
James was standing in the exact same spot you had left him in this morning. He hadn't moved an inch.
He was drenched in sweat, his brown hair plastered to his forehead, his eyes wide and unblinking. But worse than the sweat was the dark, stagnant puddle of liquid spreading across the floor around his feet. Your mind raced, instantly piecing together the horrifying reality he had stayed by the door the entire day, refusing to leave his post even to use the restroom.
You couldn't hide the visceral wave of disgust that washed over your face. James, completely oblivious to the horror of the situation, broke into a wide, frantic smile. "Baby, you're finally home! I missed you so much."
The sheer absurdity and grossness of it broke through your fear for a split second. "James... what the actual fuck?" you breathed, your voice trembling with revulsion.
He paused, finally looking down at himself and the floor as if noticing the state he was in for the first time. The smile vanished, replaced by a look of panicked humiliation. "Oh... I'm sorry. I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry," he whispered frantically, rocking on his heels.
He finally tore himself away from the spot, taking awkward, stiff strides away from you, whining softly under his breath like a scolded animal. "I'm gonna go shower. I'll go shower." He backed down the hallway and slipped into the bathroom, slamming the door shut. A moment later, the heavy hiss of the shower filling the pipes echoed through the house.
You stood paralyzed by the front door, staring at the mess on the floor, listening to the water run. You knew you had to tell him about the hangout, but the absolute dread of his reaction made your stomach churn.
Walking down the hall, you stopped outside the bathroom door. You cleared your throat, leaning half your body against the wall and crossing your arms tightly to stop your hands from shaking.
"James?" you called out over the sound of the running water. No response.
You swallowed hard and tried again. "Nara invited me to a hangout later."
Almost instantly, his voice came muffled through the door, sounding entirely normal and sweet again. "Okay, baby. Let me finish up my shower and I'll change."
You shifted awkwardly, your heart hammering against your ribs. "Um... actually, babe, she just invited me."
The silence that followed was instant. The air in the hallway grew freezing cold. Then, a loud, ear splitting shriek tore through the bathroom door. It wasn't a human cry it was that same distorted, guttural, demonic roar from the night before.
"But—but I'm sure she wouldn't mind if you came along!" you yelled out quickly, desperation bleeding into your voice as you tried to flip the off-switch on his rage. "I'm sure it's fine!"
"No! I wasn't invited! Why should I come?!" he screamed back, his voice a terrifying mix of his own pitch and that deep, rattling echo. Inside the bathroom, a violent crash echoed as he slammed something heavy against the wall in his fury.
---
Somehow, through the sheer terror of his compliance, he ended up in the passenger seat of your car, freshly showered and dressed, his mood eerily reset to a calm, possessive quiet.
When the two of you walked through the front door of Martin’s house, the entire living room went dead silent. Every single person in the room stopped talking. They all turned and gave you a heavy, deeply uncomfortable look.
Before James could pull you onto the couch, Nara grabbed your wrist, her grip firm and urgent, and yanked you away into the privacy of the kitchen.
She turned on you, her eyes wide with frustration and fear. "I knew it," she hissed under her breath. "I knew you were gonna bring him."
You let out a massive, defeated sigh, looking back toward the living room where James was already staring at the kitchen entryway, waiting for you to reappear.
"I'm sorry, Nara," you whispered, delivering a half truth to protect yourself. "He was just... he was really upset, and he said he missed his friends."
“Okay,” she sighed quietly, glancing toward the couch where James sat laughing softly at something Martin said.
You rubbed your arms anxiously.
“Just keep him away from Ronnie,” Nara whispered carefully. The fact she sounded genuinely nervous made your stomach twist harder.
You nodded slowly. “I know.”
Then together you both walked back toward the living room.
Everyone had sprawled themselves around comfortably already. Empty snack bags and soda cans littered the coffee table while the TV played quietly in the background.
A game of Jenga sat in the middle of the table now. Each block had either a question or a dare written on it in marker.
James ended up squeezed onto the couch between you and Martin while everyone else settled around the room.
Across from you, Juniper sat beside Ronnie, while Juhoon took the seat beside Ronnie.
Sean and Keonho stayed off to the side, more interested in watching than actually playing.
Junie went first. She carefully slid a block free before reading it aloud dramatically. “Change seats with anyone in the room.” She immediately snorted. “Alright move, Y/N. I’m sitting next to my bestie.”
You laughed softly despite yourself while switching places with her.
Now Junie sat beside James while you moved into the seat next to Ronnie instead.
The second you sat down, you felt it. James watching you. You glanced over briefly and immediately noticed the sad look on his face. Like you’d abandoned him but he didn’t say anything. That somehow made it worse.
Then it was Ronnie’s turn. He pulled carefully at one of the middle blocks before sliding it free successfully. “A dare,” he muttered. But the second he read it fully, his expression dropped.
“What?” Junie leaned forward. “Read it.”
Ronnie sighed heavily. “Kiss the person to your left.”
Your stomach tightened immediately. You sat to his left.
And before anyone could even react James stood up. Everyone looked at him automatically.
His expression had shifted into this exaggerated frown that looked strangely childish on him. Without saying a word, he walked behind Ronnie’s chair. Then grabbed the back of it and physically pulled Ronnie away from you slightly.
“Dude what the hell?” Ronnie snapped immediately.
James ignored him completely. Instead, he crouched down beside your seat and puckered his lips toward you expectantly like this was the most normal thing in the world.
Nobody spoke. The entire room had gone awkwardly silent now.
You glanced around quickly at your friends’ uncomfortable expressions before finally leaning down and giving James a quick kiss just to stop whatever scene was about to happen.
Immediately, he smiled again like nothing strange had happened at all. Then he stood back up and started walking toward his seat again.
Before suddenly freezing. His eyes widened toward something across the room. And then he screamed.
A sharp, horrified sound ripped from him so suddenly it made everyone jump violently.
“What the fuck?!” Martin stood up instantly.
James stumbled backward slightly, staring ahead in genuine terror for one horrifying second. Then just as quickly he started laughing like nothing happened.
Then before anyone could react properly, James suddenly grabbed the glass soda bottle off the coffee table and smashed it against the edge of the table.
The crack echoed through the room.
“James!” you shouted instinctively.
But he was already dragging the broken glass across his own face before anyone could stop him.
Everyone screamed. The room erupted instantly into panic.
Blood immediately started running down his cheek in thin streams while shattered glass pieces hit the carpet.
“Holy shit!”
“What the fuck is he doing?!”
“James stop!”
Everyone scrambled backward away from him while yelling over each other in panic.
“Y/N, get him!”
“Take him to the hospital!”
“Y/N, stop him!”
But you couldn’t move. You stood frozen near the couch staring at the blood running down James’ face while he just smiled.
The drive to the hospital was wrapped in a suffocating silence. The streetlights flickered over the dashboard, casting passing shadows across James as he sat slumped in the passenger seat, staring intensely down at his lap. The manic energy from the party had finally burned out, leaving him looking hollow and pathetic.
"I’m sorry," he whispered, the sound small and raspy in the quiet car. "I didn’t mean to ruin our time there."
You kept your eyes locked onto the pavement ahead, completely ignoring him. Your hands were clamped so tightly around the steering wheel that your knuckles were entirely white.
Sensing your coldness, he shifted in his seat, turning his entire body toward you. The desperation in his eyes was palpable. "Baby... you still love me, right? I’m still handsome to you?"
The sheer exhaustion in your bones made it impossible to fight. You just wanted to keep him calm. Your grip on the wheel tightened until your hands shook. "Yes, baby. You are."
You continued to stare blankly at the dark road ahead. But James didn't look away. He leaned closer, burning holes into the side of your face with his stare, waiting. Minutes ticked by until the weight of his gaze became unbearable.
"What?" you asked, your voice flat.
"You love me?" he pressed, demanding the verbal confirmation like a lifeline.
You didn't look at him. "Yeah," you whispered to the windshield.
When you finally arrived at the emergency room, the bright, sterile fluorescent lights felt like a harsh slap to the face. A tired triage nurse greeted you, looking between the two of you with immediate suspicion. You had to awkwardly stammer through a fabricated story about how he had deeply sliced himself on a jagged piece of metal, trying desperately to cover up whatever violent outburst had led to his injury at the party. They finally wheeled him back to get stitched up, giving you a brief, agonizingly short hour of peace in the waiting room.
By the time you got back to the house, the sky was turning a bruised, predawn purple. James could clearly tell the thick wall of annoyance and dread hadn't left you.
"I really am sorry, love," he said, following you through the front door, his freshly bandaged arm held stiffly against his chest. "Please let me make it up to you."
You set your purse down on the counter with a heavy click and kicked off your shoes, too tired to even look at him. "How?"
"Tomorrow night, I’ll take you out on a date. Chubbys?"
A sharp, disbelief filled laugh escaped your throat before you could stop it. "Chubbys is always booked out weeks in advance, James. You can't just walk in."
He gave you a playful, familiar eye roll. A glimpse of the normal boy you used to love, though it felt entirely warped now. "Well, yeah, because the serving sizes are huge. But let me worry about that."
A small, entirely hollow smile forced its way onto your lips. You just wanted the day to end. "Fine."
The response was exactly what he wanted. A radiant smile broke across his face, and he stepped forward, wrapping his uninjured arm tightly around your waist. He pulled you flush against his chest, burying his face in your hair and pressing a long, heavy kiss to the top of your head. "I'm so excited. Just you and me."
He pulled away and walked down the hallway toward your bedroom, his footsteps light and victorious.
You stood alone in the quiet kitchen, staring at the dark hallway. "Me too," you whispered into the empty room. But the words felt entirely dead, leaving nothing but a cold, lingering dread in your chest.
Note: honestly we may be almost done with the arena.
<<Previous TWOT Masterlist
There were twenty four tributes when this started. Now thirteen were dead and only nine remained. And somewhere between the bloodbath and now, your hands had become stained with four deaths.
Keonho.
Even if it had been an accident, even if he begged you to end it before he fully turned, the memory still clawed at your chest every time you thought about it. You could still hear the wet sound of the knife entering him. Still see the single tear rolling down his face after his body stopped moving.
Cole.
You didn’t stab him yourself, but you had shoved him toward the creature knowing exactly what would happen.
The two girls.
That wasn’t just survival anymore and you knew it. It had been rage as well.
And Arnie.
You didn’t count that as murder. You couldn’t. Not when he was already gone before the cannon ever sounded. You had only put him out of his misery. But somehow that almost made it worse.
Hours had passed since you escaped the underground building.
Now you sat outside against the side of a crumbling building, your back pressed weakly to the cold concrete while the wind pushed sand through the ruined streets around you. The city was quieter now. Almost empty sounding. Every now and then metal somewhere in the distance groaned from the wind, but otherwise there was only silence.
You hadn’t slept.
Every time your eyes started to close you saw Keonho turning toward you with those black eyes. Saw Arnie chained up in the dark. Saw the little blonde girl screaming while those older tributes beat her into the ground.
Your body was finally beginning to give out from it all. Your shoulder burned from the arrow wound. Your arm throbbed from the knife cut. Your leg still ached where the axe had hit you.
But none of that compared to what was happening inside your head. It felt like pieces of you were being ripped away slowly every hour you stayed in this arena.
The person you used to be felt far away now. You missed her. You missed not being afraid all the time. Missed waking up without immediately checking if something wanted to kill you.
You missed the ocean most of all. The sound of waves crashing against the shore. The salty air sticking to your skin. Early mornings beside Finnick while he taught you how to fish, laughing whenever you got frustrated with tangled nets or slippery catches.
You missed Mags too. Her warm hands and her quiet smile. The smell of her cooking filling the house —whenever she came over— while the sea breeze drifted through open windows.
And James. God, you missed James.
You missed the way his hugs made your entire body relax without him even trying. The way he always somehow knew when your mind was spiraling before you even said a word. The small smiles he’d give you when you were upset, like he was trying to pull you back down to earth gently instead of forcing you there.
A part of you wanted to survive for them so badly it hurt. But another part of you was terrified to go home.
Terrified James would look at you differently after this. Terrified everyone would. The girl standing in this arena ruin with blood on her hands and fury buried in her chest didn’t feel like the same girl who left District four anymore.
Despite all of it though you still wanted to go home. Not to the Capitol. Not to victory.
Just home to the small group of people you loved enough to call family.
You hadn’t meant to fall asleep. Your body had simply given out. One second your head was resting against the ruined building behind you, your grip loose around the knife in your hand while you stared blankly at the dark sky.
The anthem blasted through the arena.
You jolted awake violently, heart slamming against your ribs as panic surged through your exhausted body. Your hand immediately tightened around the knife while your eyes darted around the empty streets.
The music fully registered. You swallowed hard, forcing yourself upright against the wall as the sky above the city flickered to life.
The first face appeared above the arena.
Cole Kitmen. District One.
You stared at his picture silently while the anthem played softly underneath. His face remained frozen above the city for several seconds before fading away.
Then came the second.
Ahn Keonho. District Four.
Your breath hitched painfully. The moment his face appeared your eyes dropped instinctively toward the sand beneath you. You couldn’t look at him for long. Not after everything.
Not after the way he looked at you right before the knife entered him.
You clenched your jaw tightly as his image eventually disappeared into darkness again.
Third.
Indie Harlow. District Six.
The green eyed girl.
So that was her name. Your expression remained blank as her face faded and the next tribute appeared.
A boy around fifteen with curly blonde hair and bright blue eyes.
Arden Crosby. District Seven.
Then Nova Tate. District Eight.
The broad shouldered girl.
You stared at her picture coldly. You felt no guilt,no satisfaction either. Just emptiness.
Sixth came another girl.
She was pretty. Straight brown hair. Bright hazel eyes. A small button nose.
Journey Maren. District Seven.
You wondered briefly how she died.
Quick? Painful? Alone?
Then the final face appeared.
Arnie Prue. District Twelve.
Your chest tightened again. The scared brother who just wanted to find his sister.
You stared at his face until it disappeared too.
Then the anthem ended.
Seven people?
Your eyebrows furrowed slightly. You didn’t remember hearing that many cannons. But then again, you’d spent hours trapped underground with the Cranks. Some of them must’ve died while you were down there.
The sky darkened once more, leaving the ruined city silent except for the wind pushing sand through broken streets and shattered windows.
Nine left.
That thought sat heavily in your head while you stared blankly at the ground beneath your feet.
What if—
A 'ding' sound echoed suddenly through the air above you.
Your head snapped upward instantly. A silver parachute descended slowly from the sky, swaying gently in the wind before landing softly a few feet away from you.
You stood quickly despite your aching body and walked toward it cautiously. The moment you saw what was attached, your breath caught.
A trident.
One almost identical to Finnick’s.
Your fingers wrapped around the weapon carefully, familiarity immediately settling into your muscles despite the exhaustion weighing you down. The metal felt cool against your skin.
Attached near the handle was a folded note. You pulled it off slowly and read the messy handwriting.
Doing my best to get you sponsors, bug. I’m cheering for you. Good luck. You’re almost done. I love you. — F
Your throat tightened painfully. Even out there, your brother was still trying to protect you somehow.
You stared at the note for a long moment before folding it carefully and tucking it away close to your chest.
Then you twirled the trident once experimentally. The weapon sliced through the air smoothly with a sharp whistle that almost felt comforting.
For the first time in days, you didn’t feel entirely helpless. You looked around the empty city slowly before letting out a long exhausted sigh.
“Let’s get this shit fucking over with.” Your voice echoed quietly into the ruined streets. You stepped away from your hiding place.
No more running. No more waiting. No more surviving moment to moment while the Capitol played with all of you like toys.
You remembered what you suggested to Keonho before he died.
Hunting.
Back then he looked horrified at the idea. Now? Now you understood why the Games changed people.
Why victors never came home the same.
You were done hiding from the arena.
Done hiding from the Cranks. Done letting the Capitol decide when the bloodshed stopped.
If they wanted death so badly...
You’d give it to them.
The city had gone quiet again, at least the kind of quiet this arena allowed. No screams. No cannons. Just the constant howl of wind squeezing through shattered buildings while sand scraped across broken pavement like something alive crawling through the streets.
You moved carefully through the ruins, exhaustion dragging at every step. Every injury stacked on top of another until your body felt barely held together.
But anger kept you moving.
Anger and grief.
You swallowed hard and kept walking.
The deeper you went into the city, the quieter it became. Buildings leaned against one another like collapsing dominoes, rusted cars half buried in dunes, old signs hanging by loose bolts that creaked whenever the wind hit them hard enough.
Then movement caught your eye. You immediately crouched behind the remains of a broken concrete divider, peeking carefully around it.
A boy.
Maybe sixteen or seventeen. Dark hair. Taller than you expected. Lean but muscular enough to tell he’d survived these past few days through fighting, not hiding. A long metal pipe sharpened at the end rested in his grip like a spear. Makeshift, but dangerous.
Your eyes narrowed as you watched him.
He wasn’t wandering aimlessly.
He was searching. Checking corners. Pausing near alleyways. Looking behind himself every few seconds.
He's Hunting too.
You tightened your grip on the trident.
The boy suddenly stopped moving.
Your stomach tightened immediately.
He sensed something. Slowly, he turned his head toward your direction.
You ducked lower behind the concrete just as footsteps started approaching.
The sound grew closer then silent.
You frowned slightly. Where?
A loud clang exploded beside your head as the metal spear slammed into the concrete where your face had been seconds earlier. You jerked backward immediately, rolling out from cover just as the boy lunged again.
This time you blocked him with the shaft of your trident. The impact rattled through your arms painfully.
He was stronger than you expected.
“You’re sneaky,” he muttered through heavy breaths, forcing his weapon against yours with enough strength to nearly overpower you.
You shoved hard, knocking his spear aside before swinging the trident toward him. He dodged quickly, grabbing the shaft before it could fully swing back.
The two of you struggled violently for control.
Your wounds screamed in protest.
The boy noticed immediately. His eyes flickered toward your injured shoulder and a grin spread across his face.
“You’re hurt,” he realized. Then he drove his knee straight into your stomach.
You stumbled backward with a gasp, nearly dropping the trident entirely before he rushed you again. The sharpened spear barely missed your side as you twisted away, the metal scraping against your clothes.
You swung low this time. The trident slammed hard against his knee.
He cursed loudly and dropped to one leg.
You didn’t give him time to recover. You drove the butt of the trident into his jaw hard enough to send him crashing backward into a rusted car. The metal dented loudly under the impact.
Blood dripped from his mouth as he looked up at you breathing heavily. Still trying.
He grabbed a broken piece of glass from the ground and rushed you again with a yell.
You sidestepped him and slammed the trident shaft across his back. He hit the pavement hard with a groan, the glass skidding away uselessly.
You pointed the trident directly at his throat.
Finally, the fight left his eyes. His chest heaved rapidly as panic settled in. “Wait,” he breathed, hands raising slightly. “Wait wait—”
Your expression stayed empty.
He looked younger suddenly. Just another kid trapped in the arena realizing he lost. “I don’t wanna die,” he whispered shakily.
The words hit harder than they should have.
For half a second you hesitated. Keonho’s face flashed through your mind.
Your jaw tightened.
The boy saw the change immediately. Fear flooded his face as he scrambled backward desperately. “No no please—”
You drove the trident forward. Straight through his chest.
His body jerked violently before going still.
Silence swallowed the alley.
A second later the cannon fired.
You stood there breathing hard, staring down at him while blood pooled beneath his body.
Then slowly, you crouched beside him. Your hands moved automatically now. You unclipped the small backpack from his shoulders and searched through it quickly. Half a bottle of water. Two protein bars. A flashlight. Rope.
Useful.
You took it all.
You pulled the turban off his neck next, ignoring the blood soaking through parts of it, then took the goggles from on his head and shoved them into the bag.
Your eyes landed on the makeshift spear.
You grabbed it, testing the weight briefly before deciding against carrying it. Too awkward alongside the trident.
Instead, you snapped the sharpened metal end off and attached it to your belt beside the knifes.
You looked down at the boy one last time.
Then turned and walked away without another word.
The next tribute you found came from pure luck more than skill.
Tracking was never something you were good at. Finnick had tried teaching you once back home, showing you how disturbed sand, footprints, and broken patterns could tell a story if you paid enough attention, but you had always gotten distracted halfway through his lessons. Now though, somehow, your tired brain managed to piece things together.
Small footprints.
A dragged trail in the sand.
Smoke.
Smoke meant fire. Fire meant someone desperate enough to risk being seen.
You followed it carefully through the city ruins, keeping low as the evening wind pushed sand through broken streets. The closer you got, the stronger the smell became. Burnt meat.
Your stomach twisted.
You eventually spotted the source inside one of the smaller buildings tucked between two collapsed stores. A little thrift shop maybe, judging by the faded racks and old hanging clothes swaying slightly from the breeze slipping through shattered windows.
Inside sat a girl around your age with light brown curls pulled messily away from her face. Dirt stained her skin and dark circles sat beneath her eyes. She crouched near a tiny fire built inside an old metal bucket, turning meat over carefully while gripping a machete beside her.
You furrowed your brows. Where'd she get meat? A sponsor maybe? Or one of the bags from the Cornucopia?
Either way she looked distracted enough to make this easy.
For a second you almost laughed at the thought of simply walking in and ending it quickly. No chase. No speech. No fighting. Just done. But nothing in this arena had ever been easy.
You stayed hidden outside for another moment, watching her movements carefully. Something felt wrong.
You narrowed your eyes.
There was something behind her. A shape. Someone laying against the wall farther back in the shadows.
You couldn’t tell if they were sleeping or dead from this angle, and curiosity dragged you closer before you could stop yourself.
The back door of the thrift shop hung slightly open. You stared at it in disbelief. “Wow,” you muttered quietly to yourself. “A door finally unlocked.”
You slipped inside silently, moving behind rows of hanging clothes that smelled like mildew and dust. The racks gave you enough cover to slowly creep closer until you finally got a clear look.
And your stomach nearly turned inside out.
The body wasn’t sleeping.
It was dead. Very dead.
A teenage boy leaned lifelessly against the wall, his skin pale and beginning to rot. One of his legs was completely gone from the knee down, ripped apart jaggedly. Blood stained the floor beneath him dark brown and dry.
The girl crouched near the fire was cooking the meat and eating it.
Your hand flew over your mouth immediately as nausea hit you hard. You had seen horrible things these past five days. People beaten to death. Torn apart. Infected. But this felt different.
Wrong in a way that made your skin crawl.
You stared at the dead boy harder and recognition slowly settled in.
District Ten.
The long haired boy from the first day.
Royce Camperbell.
Your jaw tightened.
How long had she kept his body?
The girl finally noticed movement from behind the clothes and snapped her head toward you, eyes widening instantly. She jumped to her feet, gripping the machete tightly with both hands.
You slowly stepped out from behind the rack. “It’s only been five days,” you said flatly, “and you’ve already resorted to cannibalism?”
The girl’s breathing quickened. Fear flashed across her face before hardening into defensiveness. “I was hungry,” she snapped immediately. “I was alone.”
You hummed emotionlessly, eyes flickering toward the corpse again. “You’ve had his body this whole time?”
She shook her head quickly. “No! I found him like this and I just— I was starving, okay?”
You stared at her blankly while she rambled excuses. “I had nothing left. No food. No sponsors. Nothing!”
You slowly sucked your cheek, disgust burning in your chest. “The human body can survive around three weeks without food,” you said coldly. “You would’ve starved eventually, sure. But this?”
Your eyes lowered briefly to the bloody remains beside the fire. “I’d rather die.”
The girl’s expression darkened instantly. “You don’t understand.”
You scoffed quietly. “I understand enough.”
You adjusted your grip around the makeshift spear you stole from the last tribute. Your body already felt tired of the conversation. Tired of the arena. Tired of all of them.
“Alright,” you muttered. “I’m done talking.” You raised the spear slightly.
But instead of panicking, the girl laughed. A deep, exhausted laugh. “You don’t think I’d let you stand there and lecture me without help, do you?”
Your eyebrows furrowed immediately. Help? She said she was alone.
A low guttural growl sounded from behind you.
Your entire body froze.
The girl smirked cruelly. “An old friend says hi.” She waved mockingly toward something behind you.
Slowly, you turned around and your heart stopped.
Keonho stood in the doorway behind you. Or what used to be Keonho.
Your breath caught painfully in your throat as you stared at him.
His skin had turned grayish beneath the dirt and blood, dark veins spreading violently across his neck and jaw. Black sludge dripped slowly from his mouth while his once familiar brown eyes had become pitch black surrounded by raw red sclera. His clothes were torn open where the knife had gone through his chest.
The wound was still there. You had stabbed him through the heart.
So how...
The girl leaned casually against the wall, watching your expression with amusement. “Oh, by the way,” she added lightly, “you have to go for the brain.” Then she grabbed her bag and slipped past him toward the exit.
Keonho growled violently the second she moved. And then he charged straight at you.
Your eyes widened. “Fuck,” you breathed, gripping the spear and trident tighter.
Note: This is a shorter chapter. Photo of James is edited. Hope you enjoy:)
<<Previously JAMES MASTERLIST
It was Wednesday night, and your room was crowded with voices, blankets, snack wrappers, and concern.
The soft yellow glow from your bedside lamp lit the room while rain tapped quietly against the window now and then. Your friends had practically invaded your house the second you texted 'come over NOW'
Now everyone was spread around your bedroom in their usual spots.
Juniper laid dramatically across the end of your bed on her stomach, feet kicking in the air while she stared at you like you’d just confessed to murder.
Hani was beside you against the headboard wrapped in one of your blankets.
Nara sat near the foot of the bed picking absentmindedly at chipped black nail polish.
And Ronnie occupied your desk chair, slowly spinning side to side while listening.
The second you finished explaining the window situation, Junie nearly sat straight up. “I’m sorry, he did what?!”
You winced slightly at the volume. “I don’t know,” you muttered, pulling your knees closer to your chest. “The date was normal at first. Really romantic actually.”
Your stomach twisted guiltily at the memory. “Then I dropped him off, we made out, he left… and I thought that was it.” You rubbed your forehead tiredly. “And then I’m literally asleep and boom he’s outside my window.”
Silence settled for a second afterward. Nara spoke first. “Am I the only one that finds this weird?”
Everyone turned toward her immediately.
Nara leaned back slightly, crossing her arms while trying to organize her thoughts. “You guys were friends already, right?” she started slowly. “Then he asks you out. Cool. Cute.”
Her tone turned more skeptical afterward. “But then he kisses you before the first date, you guys are suddenly making out after it, and now he’s climbing through your bedroom window in the middle of the night?”
She shook her head slightly. “This is moving way too fast.”
The room got quiet again. Nobody disagreed with her statement
Even Ronnie nodded slowly from the desk chair. “It was weird yesterday too,” he admitted. “The way he kept staring at us in science.”
Your stomach tightened slightly.
Ronnie spun once in the chair before continuing. “Like every other second he was either glaring at me or looking at you like you personally hung the moon.”
“That’s kinda romantic,” Hani mumbled quietly.
“It would be,” Ronnie said, “if I didn’t know James.”
That made everyone look at him. “I’ve talked to him a few times before this,” Ronnie explained. “And he doesn’t really give jealous boyfriend vibes.”
He paused slightly. “At least not… loudly.”
Junie immediately jumped in next. “Exactly.” She pointed dramatically. “I’ve known James since middle school.”
Your chest tightened.
“If anything,” she continued, “that man is going to give the slowest burn on the planet.”
Nara snorted in agreement.
Junie kept going. “Like genuinely. He’s not the type to rush feelings or relationships.” She looked directly at you now. “And I know for a fact he’s not kissing somebody before the first date.”
Your throat suddenly felt dry.
“He likes getting to know people first,” she finished quieter. “Even if he’s already close with them.”
The guilt hit you so hard it almost made your stomach hurt. You looked down at your hands immediately. They didn’t know. None of them knew about the wish.
And up until now, some part of you had still desperately wanted to believe maybe it was coincidence. Maybe James already liked you secretly and the wish just… pushed things along.
But hearing your friends talk about him like this? About how unlike him all of this was? You already knew the truth. This wasn’t natural.
Then Hani broke the silence. “Yeah,” she said with a small laugh, “it’s like someone cast a spell on him or something.”
Everyone laughed quietly after that.
Except you. Because suddenly the room felt too warm. Your eyes stayed fixed ahead blankly while the sound of their laughter faded into the background.
A spell? Yeah..That’s exactly what it felt like.
“Y/N?” You blinked suddenly. Hani was looking at you now, concern replacing her earlier smile. Everyone else had gone quiet too. “You okay?”
All their eyes were on you.
You forced yourself to nod slowly. “…Yeah,” you said softly. You tried smiling. But it faded almost immediately.
When Thursday rolled around, things almost felt normal again.
James finally got his car back after two days, which meant he picked up the boys himself that morning while you drove your own friends to school again.
At first everything felt ordinary. James stood with Martin, Sean, Juhoon, and Keonho near the courtyard talking while students flooded into campus.
But the second he spotted your car pulling in. It was like the rest of the world stopped existing to him. Mid conversation, he completely abandoned whatever the boys were talking about and walked straight toward you instead.
You noticed the confused looks they exchanged behind him too. Still, James acted—mostly— completely normal once he reached you.
He hugged you tighter than usual. Stayed close enough that your shoulders constantly brushed while walking through the halls. In class, he kept passing folded notes back onto your desk every few minutes.
i miss you already
I can't get over how beautiful you are
I love you so much
And every time he saw you between classes, there was this intensity to him now. Like seeing you physically relaxed something inside him. At first it almost felt flattering. Until it didn’t.
And then Friday happened. You hadn’t gone to school at all that morning. Your mom had an early flight, and because your brother worked night shifts this week, you were the one forced to wake up at four in the morning and drive her to the airport an hour away.
You’d texted your friends about it since they normally rode with you. But in your exhausted rush that morning you forgot to tell James.
So after finally getting home, collapsing into bed, and sleeping half the day away, the last thing you expected was to wake up to loud banging downstairs.
Your eyes felt heavy as you dragged yourself from bed around noon, still half asleep while making your way through the hallway.
The banging came again.
You frowned tiredly before unlocking the front door. And immediately blinked in confusion.
Ronnie stood outside except he didn’t look normal. He kept glancing behind himself nervously like he expected someone to appear at any second.
Your eyebrows furrowed. “What are you doing—”
Before you could finish, Ronnie grabbed your shoulders and hurriedly pushed you backward into the house. The door slammed shut behind him.
You stared at him completely thrown off. “What the hell?”
Ronnie immediately started pacing your living room, both hands dragging through his hair anxiously.
“What’s wrong?” you asked, stomach tightening instantly.
Ronnie looked at you. “James.”
Your heart dropped immediately. “What happened?” you asked quickly. “Is he okay?”
Ronnie’s expression twisted strangely. Concern. Fear. Confusion. “I don’t know,” he admitted honestly. “Because he came up to us after first period completely panicking asking where you were.”
Your stomach twisted harder.
“I told him you were at airport,” Ronnie continued. “And he started freaking out thinking you left him.”
“What?” you whispered.
Ronnie nodded quickly. “So I’m like, ‘Dude, calm down. She’s just at the airport dropping her mom off.’“ He swallowed hard. “But then he got mad.”
The room suddenly felt colder.
“He looked pissed that I knew where you were and he didn’t.”
Your chest tightened painfully.
Ronnie kept pacing while talking faster now. “And then he shoved me into the lockers.”
Your eyes widened immediately. “He what?!”
“He grabbed me and started saying crazy shit,” Ronnie said breathlessly. “‘Stay away from her. She’s mine.’ Stuff like that.”
You felt sick.
“Martin had to pull him off me,” Ronnie finished quietly. “The girls got freaked out. Everyone’s worried about you.”
Silence filled the room afterward.
Your vision blurred slightly as you stared at the floor. “When did this happen?” you asked weakly.
“After first period.” Ronnie sighed shakily. “I couldn’t just stay there after that.” He stopped pacing then, finally looking directly at you again. “I have this really bad feeling,” he admitted quietly. “There’s something seriously wrong with him.”
Your throat tightened painfully while tears filled your eyes almost instantly.
Ronnie was right. There was something wrong with James now. And it was your fault. You ruined him.
You took someone kind and gentle and twisted his feelings just so he could love you back.
The guilt hit so hard it became hard to breathe.
Ronnie noticed immediately. His face shifted from anxious to concerned as he stepped closer carefully. “What?” he asked softly. “Y/N, what’s wrong?”
You stumbled backward the second he tried reaching for you. Shaking your head rapidly. “I’m sorry,” you choked out. “I’m so sorry.”
Ronnie stared at you in confusion. “Y/N?”
Both your hands tangled desperately into your hair while sobs started forcing their way out of your chest.
“Y/N…” Ronnie’s voice lowered carefully now. “Did you do something?”
You couldn’t even look at him. But slowly you nodded.
Ronnie went completely still. “What did you do?” he asked quietly.
You sucked in a shaking breath, trying to force the words out. Trying to explain the box. The wish. The way everything changed afterward.
But before you could speak there was a knock on the door. Both of you froze instantly. The sound came again.
Ronnie immediately turned toward the front door, walking carefully toward the small glass pane beside it. He peeked through it for half a second before quickly stepping back again.
Your heart pounded violently in your chest.
Ronnie looked at you with genuine fear now. “It’s James.”
Your breathing turned uneven instantly. For a second neither of you moved. Then finally you grabbed Ronnie’s wrist quickly. “Back door,” you whispered harshly. “Go.”
“What?” Ronnie looked at you like you’d lost your mind. “Y/N, no—”
“Please,” you cut him off quietly, panic slipping into your voice now. “Just go before he sees you here.”
Another knock echoed through the house.
Ronnie looked toward the sound before back at you again, clearly torn between leaving and refusing to leave you alone. “You sure?” he asked softly
No not exactly.
You nodded.
Ronnie sighed shakily before stepping closer. “If he does anything weird,” he said carefully, “call me immediately. I’m serious.”
You nodded again.
Ronnie glanced toward the front of the house nervously before starting toward the kitchen where the back door was. But halfway there, he stopped and looked back at you one more time, his expression soft. “Good luck,” he muttered quietly.
You gave him the smallest smile you could manage. “Thanks.”
Ronnie disappeared through the kitchen. A second later you heard the soft click of the back door opening and shutting again.
There was a moment of silence. Except for your heartbeat pounding violently in your ears.
You stood there frozen for a second longer before quickly wiping at your face with both hands. Your cheeks were wet.
Shit.
You rushed to the hallway mirror near the front door, scrubbing away tears beneath your eyes while trying to steady your breathing. Your reflection looked awful, red eyes, shaky hands, fear written all over your face.
“Pull it together,” you whispered to yourself weakly.
Another knock hit the door.
You flinched. Then quickly rubbed your sleeves beneath your eyes one last time before forcing your expression into something calmer. Something normal.
You unlocked the door and opened it.
The moment it opened, James immediately pulled you into him. Tight. Almost desperately tight.
“I was so worried,” he breathed against you, arms wrapping firmly around your waist like he needed physical proof you were still here.
Your body stiffened before you slowly forced yourself to relax enough to rub his back with one hand. “I’m sorry,” you murmured carefully. “My mom was rushing me this morning. I only had time to text the group chat.”
James nodded against your shoulder at first. “Yeah, okay,” he said quietly. “But you could’ve texted me. Then I could’ve told them.”
You pulled back slightly to look at him. “That would’ve been hard,” you pointed out softly, “seeing as I’m their ride. They would’ve all been at home wondering where I was if I didn’t text them.”
Something in his face tightened immediately. Not enough for most people to notice. But you noticed. You always did.
James sighed slowly through his nose. “Look,” he said, jaw flexing slightly, “next time just text me.”
You nodded quickly. “Okay. I’m sorry.”
That seemed to calm him a little. At least until the question slipped out of your mouth. “Did you shove Ronnie into the lockers?”
Everything changed again instantly. The tension returned so fast it felt suffocating. James stared at you now in a way that made your stomach twist uncomfortably. “No,” he said smoothly. “Of course not.”
He stepped closer. “Ronnie’s a great guy,” he continued quietly. “Why would I do that?”
Your back stayed pressed against the closed front door while he moved into your space completely.
You could feel his breath now. And for the first time since all of this started, your racing heartbeat didn’t feel exciting. It felt frightening. “It’s just…” you swallowed hard. “He texted me saying you did.” you lie.
And judging by the slight tilt of James’ head afterward he knew it.
“And it made him worried,” you continued carefully. “Because he knows you’re a good person and thought maybe something was wrong.”
James’ fingers slid gently against your cheek while his other hand settled firmly at your waist, pulling you closer against him.
The touch looked affectionate. But now it felt controlling somehow. His lips hovered close to yours while his dark eyes searched your face carefully.
Gosh even his eyes looked different now. Darker somehow.
“Baby,” he whispered softly, thumb brushing your skin. “Why do you lie to me?”
Your entire body froze. Then his cheek pressed lightly against yours as he leaned beside your ear. “I saw him come in.”
Your breath caught instantly.
James stepped back just enough for you to see his face again. His expression looked almost empty now except for the slight bend in his brows. Tears had started gathering in his eyes. “Do you love him?” he asked quietly.
Shock shot through you immediately. “What?”
“Do you love him?”
“No!” you answered instantly. “James, no—”
“DON’T LIE TO ME!”
You flinched hard at the sudden scream. Your breathing immediately sped up while his voice echoed through the house.
James looked wrecked standing there. Angry. Heartbroken. Desperate...Terrifying.
“Yes you are!” he shouted, tears spilling now. “Why don’t you love me?” His voice cracked painfully. “I love you, Y/N! I want you! Why don’t you want me?!”
You stood frozen, tears filling your own eyes now from panic alone. “James,” you said quickly, voice shaking. “James, baby, I do, okay?” You forced the words out desperately trying to calm him down. “I love you. I want you more than anything.”
A tear slipped down your cheek. “But you can’t hurt people because of me.”
James immediately stepped closer again. Instinctively, you took one step backward. The movement was tiny barely noticeable. But he noticed it.
You saw it happen. The small twitch in his expression. The hurt.
Then almost too quietly he asked. “Are you scared of me?”
Your eyes widened instantly. “No,” you lied quickly. “No, not at all.”
James stared at you for another second before walking closer again. This time you forced yourself not to move back. Even though every instinct in your body wanted to.
He stopped inches away from you again, carefully brushing a strand of hair from your face before smiling softly. “I love you so, so, so much.”
Then he leaned down and kissed you. The kiss itself was gentle, short, and familiar.
And part of you still melted into it automatically because this was still James. The boy you’d wanted for so long. But another part of you felt cold now. Your gut twisting painfully beneath the affection. You pulled away first.
James rested his forehead lightly against yours afterward, eyes closed while savoring the closeness between you both.
You swallowed hard. “James?”
“Yes?” he murmured softly.
“How much do you love me?”
Slowly, he opened his eyes again. And smiled. “More than anything in the entire world.”
Your stomach dropped. You pulled back slightly, no longer touching foreheads while James still looked at you lovingly.
You finally understood. This wasn’t love anymore. This was something else. Something darker. Something possessive or maybe obsessive.
Note: photo of James edited by me. Slowly but surely we're getting somewhere y'all. <<Previous JAMES MASTERLIST
After last night, sleep barely came at all.
You spent hours tossing around in bed, your blankets twisted around your legs while your brain replayed the same moment over and over again.
James knocking on your window, asking you out, looking at you differently.
Every time you closed your eyes, you heard your own wish echo back in your head.
I wish Zhao Yufan loved me more than anyone else in the entire world.
It sounded completely insane now.
Part of you wanted to believe it was just a coincidence. Maybe James had already been planning on asking you out and the timing was just weird. Maybe the wish box was some stupid prank item and you were overthinking everything because you were desperate for it to mean something.
But another part of you couldn’t stop thinking about how suddenly everything had changed.
Still magical box or not…You had a date with the guy you’d been in love with for months. And honestly that thought alone was enough to make your stomach flutter every few minutes.
Which explained why this morning you were smiling more than usual while getting ready.
Soft morning light spilled through your bedroom window as you stood in front of your mirror fixing the layered necklaces resting against your collarbone. Your outfit was casual but cute and you’d spent way too long trying to achieve. A sheer floral camisole sat beneath a light jacket, loose low rise jeans hanging at your hips secured with a thin brown belt. Your old worn out Converse you've had since the beginning of high school completed the look. (Fit)
You’d even done a little makeup.
Just enough mascara to make your eyes stand out and lip gloss that caught the light every time you smiled.
And judging by the fact that you couldn’t stop smiling at all, the gloss was getting plenty of use.
Before leaving the house, you’d called the auto repair place about James’s car too. You hadn’t forgotten about it despite your brain being completely occupied by other things.
Then once you got in your car, you sent a message into the group chat.
By the time you picked everyone up, the energy in the car already felt chaotic.
Ronnie ended up being the last pickup before James. The second his car door shut and you pulled away from the curb, complete chaos erupted.
“Girl, spill the motherfucking tea!” Juniper yelled dramatically, smacking the back of your headrest. “What are you hiding from us?”
“Okay, okay,” you laughed softly, unable to stop the smile spreading across your face.
That alone made everyone scream louder.
“Oh my GOD,” Hani gasped from the passenger seat. “Something happened!”
You bit down on your lip for half a second before admitting it. “James may have asked me out yesterday.”
The car exploded.
Hani grabbed your arm violently while Junie nearly climbed over the seat trying to get closer. Even Ronnie looked genuinely shocked for once.
“What?!” he blurted.
Nara slapped the back of Hani's seat excitedly. “NO WAY.”
Hani squealed loud enough to hurt your ears. “OH MY GOD TELL US EVERYTHING.”
You laughed nervously, cheeks burning warm.
“How did it happen?” Hani demanded immediately. “Like were you guys talking and he casually dropped it? Or did he leave and then come back all dramatic like, ‘wait… I want you.’” She placed a hand against her chest theatrically while speaking.
You glanced at her briefly, mildly disturbed by the reenactment. “Uh…” you laughed awkwardly. “Actually kinda the second one.”
The entire car lost it again.
Nara groaned dramatically from the backseat. “Oh that’s actually hot.”
“Nara,” Ronnie sighed immediately.
“I’m serious,” she defended. “If a man came back just to ask me out, I’d lose my mind.”
“Wait,” Junie interrupted, staring at her. “When was the last time you dated somebody?”
Nara dropped her head back dramatically. “Too long, bro.”
Ronnie snorted quietly. “Not as long as Y/N.”
Your eyes widened instantly. “If I wasn’t driving right now, I’d hit you,” you warned.
Hani gasped loudly. “Oh my god, he’s right.”
“Hani!”
She turned toward you dramatically, grabbing your cheeks between her hands like you were a child. “Will James finally be the one to save our innocent Y/N from her tragic love life?”
You immediately shoved her away while everyone laughed. “It’s literally just one date,” you defended, tightening your grip on the steering wheel slightly. “And I don’t even wanna think about stuff like that right now.”
“Why not?” Junie asked.
“Because,” you muttered, eyes focused firmly on the road ahead, “if stuff like that happens, it happens. I don’t wanna force anything.”
For a second, the car quieted slightly. Then Nara leaned forward between the seats with a grin. “Okay but imagine if you guys hold hands.”
“Oh my GOD,” Hani squealed again.
You groaned immediately, dropping your forehead briefly against the steering wheel at the red light. “This is why I shouldn’t tell you people anything.”
---
Your car slowly rolled to a stop in front of James house, tires crunching softly against the curb.
The second you parked, every person in the backseat suddenly went suspiciously quiet.
You could physically feel their stares burning into the side of your head while you grabbed your phone and quickly sent James a text.
You immediately locked your phone afterward and tossed it face down onto your lap before anybody could look too hard. Unfortunately, it was already too late.
“Wow,” Juniper said dramatically, leaning forward between the seats. “Even your texts to him are sad.”
You sighed heavily, turning your head toward her. “There’s not much to say.”
“Girl, you're so dry though.”
“then stop reading my texts,” you added immediately, shoving her forehead backward with one hand.
Junie only laughed while falling back into her seat.
Before anyone else could tease you further, movement outside the car caught your attention.
The front door opened.
Hani scrambled out of the passenger seat dramatically. “Move,” she whispered loudly at Nara. “I gotta sit back there.”
“You are literally crushing me,” Nara complained as Hani squeezed herself onto her lap anyway.
None of them cared because now James was walking toward the car.
His bag hung lazily off one shoulder while his other hand stayed shoved into the pocket of his cargo pants. He wore a faded charcoal sweatshirt that hung loosely off his frame, the sleeves slightly covering his hands. The hem sat just high enough to reveal the layered shirt underneath whenever he moved. Camouflage cargo pants rested low on his hips, held up by a worn brown belt similar to yours. (Fit)
And then there were the glasses.
Goodness gracious
You loved when he wore glasses.
Something about them softened his face slightly while somehow making him look even more handsome at the same time. It honestly felt unfair.
As he got closer, his eyes lifted toward the passenger window and immediately found yours.
Your breath caught slightly.
James smiled first. Still sleepy looking from the early morning. Without even realizing it, you smiled back instantly.
Behind you, your friends all made obnoxious ’ooooo’ sounds at the interaction.
You immediately shushed them. “Oh my god, will you guys shut up.”
James opened the passenger door and slid into the seat beside you. “Hey,” he greeted casually.
“Hi.”
Then his eyes moved over you for a second. “You look cute,” he said simply.
Your brain completely stalled. Heat rushed into your face so fast it was humiliating.
“Oh.” You looked away awkwardly toward the windshield. “Thank you.”
Then quickly, before you could overthink yourself into silence again, you added, “You look really good in your glasses.”
James smiled immediately at that. “Noted,” he said lightly. The little grin on his face made your stomach twist all over again.
Then he finally turned toward the backseat where four people were staring at him way too excitedly. “Hey guys.”
Suddenly all of them forgot how to act normal.
Hani gave an aggressively innocent wave. Junie smiled so hard she looked painful. Nara tried not to laugh. Ronnie just blinked at everyone like they were embarrassing him personally.
“Hi,” they answered almost at the same time.
You quickly put the car back into drive before anyone could make things worse.
By the time you pulled into the school parking lot and the car stopped, your friends practically launched themselves out of it.
“Okayyyy,” Juniper sang dramatically while climbing over Nara and out the car . “We’ll leave you two alone.”
“We’re all going in the same direction,” you muttered immediately.
Nobody listened though.
Hani wiggled her fingers at you through the open window. “See you later!”
“Text updates,” Nara added with a grin.
Ronnie was the only one remotely normal while getting out, though even he gave you a small knowing look before shutting the back door.
Then suddenly it was quiet. Just you and James sitting in the front seats.Your stomach fluttered immediately.
You quickly unbuckled your seatbelt before the silence could make you overthink too much. James grabbed his bag from the floor before following you out, and the two of you started toward the school entrance together.
The cold October air brushed against your skin while students crowded around the front of the building, voices echoing across the courtyard. Your shoulders bumped lightly every few steps from how close you walked.
You glanced over at him nervously.“So…” you started quietly, trying to sound casual. “Did you decide on anything for later?”
James looked down at you immediately, a small smirk already pulling at the corner of his mouth. “It’s a surprise.”
You groaned softly. “That’s evil.”
“It’s funny though.”
“You’re annoying.”
“And yet you still said yes.”
Your face warmed instantly. Before you could think of a response, James stepped ahead slightly and pulled the school door open for you.
You looked down automatically while stepping through, but right as you passed him, his hand rested lightly against your waist for barely a second, guiding you through the doorway.
Heat rushed into your face while you kept your eyes forward pretending your heart hadn’t just started beating twice as fast.
Meanwhile James looked completely normal beside you, like he hadn’t just ruined your ability to think.
The hallway buzzed with noise around you. Lockers slammed, students laughed loudly nearby, teachers yelled for people to move faster.
The closer you got to science class, the more crowded the hallway became. Groups of students shoved past each other trying to make it before the bell while conversations echoed off the walls.
Then finally you reached the classroom door. Your science class was the one class you and James shared with Ronnie.
And unfortunately, Ronnie noticed you both immediately. His eyebrows lifted the second he looked up from his seat near the middle tables.
“Oh brother,” he muttered dramatically under his breath.
You immediately rolled your eyes while walking farther into the room.
James moved toward his usual seat across the classroom near the windows while you slid into the lab table beside Ronnie.
The second your bag hit the floor, Ronnie turned toward you fully. “Well?”
You blinked innocently. “Well what?”
“How are things with James going?”
Your face warmed instantly. “There’s nothing to tell.”
Ronnie stared at you flatly. “He asked you out less than twelve hours ago.”
“Okay, and?”
“And yesterday you were literally mourning the fact that he’d never like you back.”
You kicked his shoe under the table immediately.
“Ow.”
“Shut up.”
Across the room, James sat down in his chair while talking quietly with another student beside him. But the second you laughed softly at something Ronnie muttered afterward, his attention drifted over automatically.
His eyes lingered for a second longer than necessary. Then dropped briefly toward how close Ronnie sat beside you.
Something small shifted in his expression. Before disappearing completely.
“You’re smiling again,” Ronnie pointed out suddenly.
“What?”
“You keep smiling randomly.”
Your hand instantly moved toward your mouth. “I am not.”
“You literally are right now.”
You groaned softly, dropping your forehead against the desk. “This is humiliating.”
Ronnie snorted quietly before glancing across the room himself. “You know what’s weird though?”
You lifted your head slightly. “What?”
“He keeps looking over here.”
Your stomach flipped immediately. You tried sounding casual. “Maybe he’s just zoning out.”
“Maybe.” Ronnie shrugged. “Or maybe he thinks I’m stealing your attention.” he smirks.
You rolled your eyes hard enough it hurt. “You’re actually insufferable.”
But when you glanced across the room yourself, James was already looking away again, spinning his pencil slowly between his fingers while the teacher started class.
Still every few minutes after that, you caught his attention drifting back toward your table again.
When class finally ended, the loud scrape of chairs immediately filled the room as students started packing their things and pushing toward the door.
You zipped your bag closed while Ronnie stretched dramatically beside you.
“I think I lost brain cells during that lecture,” he muttered.
“You say that after everyday.”
“Because it keeps happening.”
You laughed softly before swinging your bag over your shoulder. Across the room, James was already standing near the doorway waiting for you.
Your stomach fluttered instantly.
Ronnie noticed too, of course.
“Alright,” he sighed dramatically while standing up. “I’m leaving before this turns into a romance movie.”
You shoved his shoulder lightly while laughing. “Bye.”
“Bye.” Ronnie finally disappeared out the classroom door, leaving you alone with James. The second you walked over to him, though, you noticed something felt slightly off.
His shoulders looked a little tense beneath his sweatshirt. His jaw tighter than usual. Even the way he stood seemed restless somehow.
“You okay?” you asked quietly once you stopped beside him. Without really thinking, your fingers brushed lightly against his shoulder.
James looked down at you and the tension in his face softened almost instantly. “Yeah,” he answered. But it sounded distracted.
Before you could think too hard about it, his hand moved gently from your arm down to your hand instead. His fingers slid between yours naturally like he’d already done it a hundred times before.
Your heart nearly stopped.
“Come on,” he murmured softly. Then he started pulling you down the hallway with him.
You stumbled slightly after him, blinking in confusion. “Wait—we still have class.”
“It’ll be fast.”
“James—”
He glanced back at you briefly, still holding your hand tightly. “Please?”
Something about the way he said it made it impossible to argue.You sighed softly. “Okay.”
The walk outside felt strangely quiet compared to the crowded halls.
Warm sunlight immediately hit your face once the doors opened, the October breeze cooler now but still soft enough to make the trees sway gently around campus. Leaves crunched beneath your shoes while James continued leading you across the edge of the football field. His hand never let go of yours once.
You watched him carefully while walking. He looked deep in thought about something. Almost distracted.
You realized he was heading toward the willow tree.
The place you always sat when you wanted quiet. The place he’d started joining you sometimes after learning where to find you between classes.
But right before reaching it, James suddenly slowed. His eyes flicked toward the tree for a second. Then something unreadable crossed his face. And instead of continuing there, he changed direction entirely. Toward the bleachers instead.
You noticed immediately. It was weird.
James knew you loved that tree. He always sat there with you whenever he found you outside.
Still you decided not to mention it.
The metal bleachers creaked softly beneath your weight when both of you sat down. The football field stretched out in front of you empty except for a few people far off near the track. Wind moved gently through your hair while silence settled between you both.
James leaned forward slightly, elbows resting against his knees.
You watched his side profile carefully.
The sunlight hit the side of his face perfectly, making the brown of his eyes look warmer while the silver chains around his neck glinted softly whenever he moved.
“You sure everything’s okay?” you asked again quietly.
James hummed softly, staring ahead at the field.
“Yeah.” But then he paused. Your stomach tightened slightly waiting for him to continue.
“It’s just…” He laughed quietly under his breath like he couldn’t believe what he was about to say. “I don’t know what’s come over me lately, but…”
He finally looked at you fully now. “I really wanna kiss you.”
Your breath caught instantly everything inside your chest seemed to fall straight into your stomach. “What?” you breathed out softly.
James immediately shook his head a little, running one hand through his hair.
“I’m sorry,” he said quickly with a small awkward laugh. “That came out way too strong.” His voice softened after that. “You don’t have to kiss me.”
Your eyes dropped toward your lap instead, hands twisting together nervously while the wind rustled through the trees nearby.
But the truth was you did want to kiss him. You’d wanted to for months. “I do,” you admitted quietly.
James stilled beside you.
You swallowed hard before continuing. “I mean… I really do.” Your voice came out smaller now. More vulnerable. “I really like you, James.” You stared down at your hands while speaking.
“I’m just scared.”
For a second neither of you moved. Then James gently reached over and took one of your hands into his again, slowly intertwining your fingers together.
The warmth of his hand made your chest ache. “Why?” he asked softly. “Why are you scared?”
You hesitated. Honestly, admitting it out loud felt embarrassing. But James kept looking at you so patiently that eventually the words slipped out anyway.
“No one’s ever…” You laughed nervously once. “No one’s ever asked me out before.”
Your throat tightened slightly. “Or kissed me. Or really… been with me at all.” You finally looked up at him noticing he was already staring at you.
His expression softened immediately.
Your eyes accidentally dropped to his lips for half a second before flicking back to his eyes again.
James let out a quiet breath like he genuinely couldn’t process what you’d just said. “That’s hard to believe,” he murmured.
You shook your head slightly with an embarrassed laugh. “It’s true.”
He kept looking at you like the idea genuinely bothered him somehow. “Y/N,” he said quietly, “you’re gorgeous.”
Your heart stuttered painfully.
“Anyone would be lucky to be loved by you.” His thumb brushed slowly against your hand while speaking. “Or lucky enough to be in love with you.”
You laughed softly at that. Not because it was funny. Because part of you still didn’t fully know how to believe someone saying those kinds of things about you.
James noticed immediately.
The small smile on his face faded just slightly as he watched your reaction, like the thought of you doubting him bothered him more than it should’ve.
James watched you carefully after you laughed, his brows pulling together slightly like he hated the fact you didn’t fully believe him.
Slowly, his hand lifted. His index finger hooked gently beneath your chin, guiding your face back toward him when you instinctively looked away again.
“I’m serious,” he said softly. The sincerity in his voice made your stomach twist nervously.
You really looked into his eyes. The sunlight filtering through the bleachers cast soft shadows across his face while the breeze moved pieces of his dark hair across his forehead. Up close like this, everything about him felt overwhelming. The warmth of his hand holding yours. The way his thumb absentmindedly brushed against your skin. The way he kept looking at you like you were something important.
His gaze slowly dropped to your lips.
Your breath caught instantly.
The second he leaned closer, your entire body went rigid. Your heart beat so hard it almost hurt. You realized what was happening immediately.
James wanted to kiss you. Not as some joke. Not because someone dared him to. Not because he felt bad for you.
He wanted to.
Your pulse fluttered wildly while your eyes slowly drifted shut, leaning forward before you could overthink yourself out of it.
His lips met yours. It was soft, warm, and gentle.
For a second your brain completely blanked.Everything around you seemed to disappear at once. The distant sounds from the football field, the wind moving through the trees,none of it mattered anymore.
All you could focus on was him.
James’s hand tightened slightly around yours while his other arm slid carefully around your waist, pulling you a little closer against him while you sat on the bleachers.
Your own hand moved almost automatically, fingers brushing up his arm before resting lightly against the side of his neck and cheek.
His skin felt warm beneath your fingertips.
The kiss stayed soft and careful, almost hesitant at first like he was making sure you were comfortable before relaxing into it slightly more.
It felt nothing like you imagined. It was way better.
The kind of moment that made your chest ache while it was happening because part of you already knew you’d remember it forever.
When he finally pulled back, it wasn’t far. James stayed close after the first kiss, his arm still secure around your waist as if neither of you really wanted to create space again.
The air between you felt different now. Heavier, quieter, like everything outside the bleachers had faded into something far away and unimportant.
Your fingers stayed curled lightly against his sweatshirt while your other hand still rested near his cheek, not quite ready to let go of the moment.
James looked at you for a second like he was checking in without words. Then he leaned in again.
This time, you met him halfway immediately.
The second kiss wasn’t hesitant like the first. It came easier, more certain, like something that had already been building without either of you fully admitting it.
His hand tightened slightly at your waist as he pulled you closer, while your grip shifted into the front of his sweatshirt, grounding yourself in him like you were afraid the moment might slip away if you didn’t hold on.
When you finally broke apart again, it was only slightly, foreheads close, both of you breathing a little unevenly.
James let out a quiet laugh under his breath, soft and disbelieving, like he still couldn’t fully process it. “You okay?” he asked gently.
You nodded, a small smile forming despite how flustered you felt. “Yeah.”
He brushed his thumb lightly against your hand again, still holding it like he didn’t plan on letting go anytime soon.
“Good,” he said quietly. “Because I really don’t want this to be the last time.”
James stayed close for a second longer, his forehead still nearly touching yours as the moment lingered between you both. His expression softened into something almost reluctant, like he genuinely didn’t want to move away either.
Then he let out a quiet breath, a small, crooked smile forming on his face. “I hate to ruin the moment,” he said, voice low and slightly amused, “but we need to get to class.”
You blinked at him, still a little dazed, like your brain was catching up slower than the rest of you.
He stood up first, turning slightly toward you and offering his hand without hesitation. “Come on, pretty,” he added gently.
That word alone made your butterflies make way to your stomach.
You placed your hand in his, letting him pull you up from the bleachers carefully. The metal steps creaked softly under your shoes as you followed his lead down, your balance a little unsteady not because of the stairs, but because your thoughts still hadn’t fully recovered.
James stayed close the whole way down, his hand steady in yours, guiding you without rushing you.
When you finally reached the last step he leaned in and pressed a quick, soft kiss to the top of your head.
You froze slightly, then let out a quiet breath, a smile spreading across your face before you could stop it. Your teeth caught lightly at your lower lip as you looked away for a moment, trying and failing not to look completely overwhelmed.
You were still holding his hand. Still standing right next to him. And all you could think was how unreal it felt.
Wish or not it didn’t matter anymore. Because you had just kissed James.
And damn is He a really good kisser.
The rest of the school day passed by in a blur. Not a completely normal blur though.
More like the kind where every few minutes you’d randomly remember you kissed James and suddenly forget how to function. And apparently James wasn’t doing much better.
Especially during English.
He sat directly in front of you in that class, which normally already distracted you enough, but today was somehow worse. Because he would not stop passing you notes.
At first it started simple.
A folded piece of notebook paper sliding backward across your desk while the teacher talked about some reading assignment nobody cared about.
You opened it carefully beneath the desk.
your so beautiful
Your face immediately warmed. You quickly kicked the back of his chair lightly with your shoe.
A few minutes later another note appeared.
This one had a tiny doodle of you sitting beside him on a bench. A crooked little heart floated above both your heads.
You bit back a smile instantly.
And then another note came.
you looked really cute after i kissed you btw
You stared at the paper for a full five seconds before hiding your face behind your textbook.
From the front of the class, James looked entirely innocent while taking notes.
By the middle of class your desk had become a collection of folded papers. Some had little hearts drawn on them. Some were random compliments. One was literally just...
i wanna kiss you again
Which nearly killed you on the spot.
You didn’t have lunch with him later, unfortunately. Your schedules split apart for that period, which felt weird after how attached to your side he’d been all day.
Still, halfway through lunch your phone buzzed. James texted.
i miss you
A second text came almost immediately after.
can’t wait for later
Then another.
also u don’t have to change after school. you already look perfect
You stared at your screen so long that Hani had to ask if you were alive.
Throughout the rest of the day you ran into your friends separately between classes, but never all together long enough to properly explain anything.
Though judging by the suspicious looks they kept giving you whenever your phone buzzed, they already knew something happened.
Especially after you texted the group chat telling them to find rides home because you’d be busy after school. Junie responded with...
OH YALL ARE DEFINITELY MAKING OUT TODAY !!
You almost dropped your phone reading it.
And somehow, after what felt like the slowest day of your life, school finally ended.
Now you stood outside near the student parking lot, leaned against your car while absentmindedly twirling your keys around your finger.
The late afternoon sun painted everything gold around campus while students poured out of the building laughing loudly and heading toward their rides home.
Your stomach fluttered every few seconds while waiting. You eventually spotted him though.
James came rushing out through the front doors, scanning the parking lot before immediately locking onto you. And the second he did, his entire face softened.
Your heart flipped.
He hurried down the front steps before jogging the rest of the way toward you, his bag bouncing lightly against his shoulder.
Before you could even properly greet him, his arms wrapped around you suddenly. The force of it caught you slightly off guard. But you melted into him almost immediately anyway.
Your arms slid around his neck while his wrapped tightly around your waist, pulling you fully against his chest like he’d been waiting to touch you all day.
You could feel his warmth through his sweatshirt. Feel the way he held you just a little tighter than necessary.
“I missed you so much,” he mumbled quietly against the crook of your neck. The softness in his voice made your chest ache.
You laughed quietly, fingers brushing lightly through the hair at the back of his neck. “I missed you too, James.”
For a second neither of you moved. Then slowly he pulled back, though one of his hands stayed resting against your waist while the other extended outward expectantly.
You blinked at him in confusion before placing your hand into his automatically.
James chuckled immediately, shaking his head. “I meant your keys, baby.”
Baby? Oh fuck
Your brain shortcircuited. You tried very hard not to visibly react to it. Failed completely.
Still, confusion won over the thought for a second. “Why do you need my keys?”
James leaned casually against the side of your car beside you now, half his body resting against it while he looked down at you with the smallest smirk.
“Well,” he said lightly, “I can’t let you know the surprise, can I?”
You narrowed your eyes suspiciously. Then sighed dramatically before placing the keys into his open palm. “Fine,” you muttered. “But if anyone finds out you drove my car, I’m actually dead.”
James laughed softly. “I understand.” He closed his fingers around the keys before gently guiding you toward the passenger side.
He opened the door for you again.
You tried not to smile too much while climbing inside. “Thank you.”
“Mhm.” James closed the passenger door carefully before walking around the front of the car toward the driver’s side.
And as you watched him slide into the driver’s seat of your car like he belonged there.
James drove with one hand lazily resting against the steering wheel while the other stayed intertwined with yours the entire time.
Every few minutes his thumb would brush softly across the back of your hand absentmindedly, like touching you had already become second nature to him.
The windows were cracked open just enough for cool evening air to drift through the car. Wind brushed lightly through your hair while soft music played quietly through the speakers, low enough that it blended into the peaceful hum of the drive rather than overpowering it.
The sun had started setting now, painting everything outside in warm gold and orange tones. Streetlights slowly flickered on as the two of you drove farther away from campus and the crowded parts of town.
Honestly, you almost didn’t care where he was taking you anymore. You could’ve stayed exactly like this for hours.
Just sitting beside him listening to music.Feeling his thumb move gently against your skin while every once in a while he’d glance over at you with that soft look in his eyes that still made your chest tighten.
The drive ended up shorter than you wanted though.
Eventually James slowed the car before pulling into an empty parking area near the beach.
The engine shut off softly.
James turned toward you slightly. “Close your eyes.”
You blinked at him before glancing out the windows instinctively. The beach stretched out quietly ahead, mostly empty except for distant waves rolling against the shore. No other cars nearby. No people walking around. Just the sound of the ocean and the fading sunset.
It was pretty. But also a tiny bit unsettling.
You laughed nervously. “You’re not gonna kill me, are you?”
James maybe a second longer than necessary laughed before shaking his head quickly.“No,” he said, smiling again. “I’d never do that.”
Something about the way he said it made you laugh softly again despite yourself.
“It’s part of the surprise,” he added. “Close your eyes.” Before you could answer, his hand lifted gently over your eyes for a second.
You immediately giggled, shoving his hand away. “Okay, okay.” Then finally you closed your eyes properly yourself. “Happy?”
“Very.”
You heard his door open before he quickly came around to your side of the car. A second later your door opened too, and warm hands settled carefully against your waist to help guide you out.
The second his hands touched you again, that familiar fluttering feeling returned to your stomach instantly. Though now it felt softer. Less shocking than before.
Like your body was slowly getting used to his affection while still craving it every single time.
Your hands instinctively found his arms for balance while he carefully guided you forward across the pavement.
“Careful,” he murmured softly. “There’s a curb.”
You stepped over it slowly while trying not to laugh from nervousness. “This feels like the beginning of a horror movie.”
James snorted quietly beside you. “You’re dramatic.”
“Says the guy kidnapping me with my own car.”
“I’m literally holding you so you don’t trip.” His hands tightened slightly at your waist as he guided you farther forward.
The sound of waves became louder the closer you got to the beach, mixed with the soft crunch of sand beneath your shoes now. The ocean breeze felt cooler here, carrying the salty smell of the water through the air around you.
James slowed slightly behind you. “We’re almost there,” he announced softly.
James finally stopped walking.
The sound of waves rolled softly nearby while the ocean breeze moved around you gently, carrying the salty scent of the water through the cool evening air.
His hands loosened slightly at your waist as he leaned closer behind you. Right near your ear, he whispered “Open.”
His touch disappeared. You slowly opened your eyes.
Spread out across the sand in front of you was a thin blanket carefully laid out facing the ocean. Small candles surrounded it in a loose circle, flickering softly against the darkening beach while still placed far enough away to be safe from the blanket itself. Their warm glow danced against the sand, making everything feel softer somehow. More intimate.
In the center sat a woven basket beside a couple drinks and snacks arranged neatly like he’d genuinely planned all of this ahead of time.
Your mouth parted slightly in shock. You genuinely couldn’t speak. No one had ever done anything like this for you before. No one had ever looked at you and thought you were worth this much effort. This much care.
Slowly, you turned toward James, still trying to process everything in front of you. “James…” you whispered softly, almost breathless. “You—”
“Do you like it?” he interrupted quickly. The question came out quieter than expected. And when you looked at him properly, you noticed it the doubt in his expression. Enough to tell he genuinely cared about your answer more than he wanted to admit.
Like the thought of disappointing you actually worried him.
Your heart melted instantly.
You smiled without even thinking about it, shaking your head quickly. “Yes.” Your voice came out soft and honest. “I love it.”
The relief that crossed his face happened immediately. Before he could even fully react, you stepped forward and wrapped your arms around him tightly.
James caught you without hesitation, his hands settling automatically against your waist again while you leaned up slightly and pressed a quick kiss against his cheek.
The gesture surprised him enough to make him laugh softly under his breath.
When you pulled back, he was smiling now. A real one. Warm and almost shy looking for once. “Good,” he murmured.
His fingers slipped gently between yours again before giving your hand a light tug. “C’mon.”
He guided you both toward the blanket, the sand shifting softly beneath your shoes while the candles flickered around you in the growing evening darkness.
The ocean stretched endlessly ahead, waves glowing faintly beneath the last traces of sunset.
Then the two of you sat down beside each other on the blanket.
Close enough that your shoulders touched immediately.
James started unpacking everything from the basket while you sat beside him still half in disbelief this was even real.
The candles flickered softly around the blanket while the sky above the ocean slowly deepened into warmer shades of orange and pink. Waves crashed gently against the shore nearby, the sound steady and calming beneath the quiet music still faintly playing from his phone.
James handed you a drink first before opening up snacks one by one with surprising seriousness, like he’d spent actual time planning every little detail.
You watched him carefully while he worked.
The way his brows furrowed slightly while opening a stubborn chip bag. The way he organized the food neatly between you both. The way he kept glancing over at you almost nervously like he wanted to make sure you were still happy.
You couldn’t help asking. “When did you even do all of this?”
James looked up briefly while opening the chips before handing them over to you. There was the tiniest hesitation before he answered. “…After English.”
Your expression dropped instantly. “James.”
He visibly winced at your tone already knowing where this was going.
“That was fourth period,” you said, staring at him. “You left school in the middle of the day?”
He sighed quietly, rubbing the back of his neck. “Maybe.”
“How did you even get here?”
“A bus.”
You blinked at him in disbelief. “You took a bus to set this up?”
James shrugged like it wasn’t a huge deal, though you could tell by the way he avoided your eyes that he knew you were upset. “I wanted to do something romantic,” he admitted quietly. “Not just take you to the movies or something.”
Your stomach fluttered slightly despite yourself.
“And I wouldn’t have enough time if I waited until after school,” he finished.
You stared at him for a second longer. Part of you wanted to stay annoyed. But you looked around again, at the candles, the blanket,the food he packed himself.
The fact he apparently rode a bus all the way out here alone just to set everything up for you before hurrying back to school like nothing happened.
You sighed softly and nudged his knee with yours. “Don’t skip school for me again, okay?”
James looked back at you finally.
“Your mom would literally kill me if you started failing classes because of me.”
That made him laugh quietly. He lifted both hands in surrender immediately. “Okay, okay. Lesson learned.”
You narrowed your eyes slightly. “I’m serious.”
“I know.” His smile softened. “I won’t do it again.”
You relaxed slightly at that.
James reached back into the basket and pulled out two wrapped sandwiches dramatically like he was presenting life-changing choices.
“Now,” he announced, “what do you want? Ham and cheese or turkey and cheese?” He held both up expectantly.
You looked at him like the answer should’ve been obvious. “Obviously ham and cheese.”
James snorted softly. “Wow. Aggressive.”
“Because turkey is inferior.”
“That’s actually insane.”
“Ham clears.”
He shook his head while handing you the sandwich anyway. “You’re lucky you’re cute.”
Your face warmed immediately while unwrapping the sandwich. “You say that a lot now.”
“Because it’s true.”
You looked away quickly before he could see your smile growing again.
For a little while after that, neither of you talked much. You just sat beside each other on the blanket eating snacks while the sunset slowly melted into the ocean ahead of you.
The breeze brushed softly against your skin while James sat close enough that your shoulders touched every few seconds naturally.
And every once in a while, when you glanced over at him, you’d catch him already looking at you instead of the sunset.
The engine hummed a low, rhythmic vibration beneath you as the car idled at the curb. For a moment, the only sound was the faint ticking of the cooling metal and the distant evening breeze. James didn’t move. He sat in the passenger seat, his gaze fixed on his front door as if it were an obstacle keeping him from where he truly wanted to be.
"I’m sorry," he murmured, his voice a low rumble in the quiet cabin. "I wish I was the one dropping you off. I'm not ready for the night to end."
He turned his head slowly, his movement deliberate. When his eyes finally met yours, there was an intensity there that made the air in the car feel heavy. "Today was one of the best days of my life," he said softly. His eyes began to wander over your features tracing the line of your brow, the curve of your cheek as if he were trying to memorize every detail for a time when you weren't right there in front of him.
You felt a flush creep up your neck, and you looked down at your lap, a small, genuine smile tugging at your lips. "Me too," you whispered, the shyness catching in your throat.
Emboldened by the quiet intimacy, you looked back at him, finally letting yourself stare. He was devastatingly handsome in the amber glow of the streetlights: the warm depth of his brown eyes, the way his short, light brown hair caught the light, the sharp, clean line of his jaw. Your gaze lingered on his lips, and you felt a frantic drumbeat start in your chest.
James caught you looking, and a slow, knowing smirk played across his face. "Like the view?"
You didn't even try to play it cool. You just nodded, your pulse quickening.
"Yeah?" he pressed, his voice dropping an octave.
You nodded again, subconsciously leaning across the center console toward him. He met you halfway, his movement fluid and hungry. He stopped when his lips were just a breath away from yours, the heat radiating between you.
"I’m gonna need you to use your words, pretty," he challenged, his breath ghosting over your skin.
The pet name sent a jolt through you, a physical ache of wanting that made your head light. "Yes," you breathed against his lips, the word barely a sound.
He let out a low, satisfied hum before closing the distance. The kiss began slow. A soft, exploratory press of lips that tasted of longing and heat. But the restraint didn't last long. Soon, the kiss deepened into something urgent and passionate. Your hands found the soft hair at the nape of his neck, tugging slightly, while he crowded into your space, his hands finding purchase where they could.
When he flicked his tongue against your lower lip, asking for more, you didn't hesitate. You opened to him, letting the kiss consume you. A low groan vibrated in his chest when you tightened your grip on his hair, a sound of pure, unadulterated want.
Eventually, the need for air forced you apart. You pulled back just an inch, foreheads resting against each other, both of you breathless and flushed. The silence that followed wasn't heavy; it was electric.
"God, I love you," he whispered.
The words hung in the air, making your heart skip a beat. You froze, your eyes searching his face. His eyes were still closed, a look of peaceful surrender on his features.
"I love you too," you replied, your voice steady and sure.
At that, his eyes snapped open, and he broke into a grin the widest, brightest smile you had ever seen him wear
“I’ll see you later.” James pulled away just enough to press one last soft kiss against your cheek before reaching for the car door.
You smiled automatically, still a little dazed from everything that happened tonight.
“Goodnight,” you whispered.
“Goodnight, pretty.” he stepped out of the car.
You watched him walk up the pathway toward his front door, hands shoved into the pockets of his sweatshirt while the porch light cast a warm glow across him. But just before going inside, he stopped and turned back toward your car. Waiting again.
You finally drove off, the smile on your face refusing to disappear no matter how hard you tried.
The second his house disappeared from view though you let out a loud screech into the empty car.
“Oh my god,” you groaned dramatically, gripping the steering wheel while laughing breathlessly to yourself.
You had just gone on a date with the guy you’d been in love with for months. You kissed him multiple times today. And somehow he loved you back.
Your brain genuinely couldn’t process any of it.
By the time you got home, your body practically buzzed with leftover excitement and exhaustion.
You rushed through the front door trying and failing not to smile like an idiot.
Your mom and brother both paused mid meal at the kitchen table when they saw you practically floating toward the hallway.
“Hi!” you called quickly without stopping.
Your brother blinked slowly. “Uh… hi?”
You disappeared down the hallway toward your room before either of them could question you properly. A second later they heard your shower start upstairs.
Your brother looked toward your mom suspiciously. “What was that about?”
Your mom shrugged while taking another bite of food. “No idea.”
By the time you finally got ready for bed, exhaustion had fully hit you.
You’d changed into soft pajamas, washed your makeup off, and collapsed onto your bed without even realizing your bedroom lights were still on. Your body melted into the blankets instantly.
Clutched tightly against your chest was the old stuffed monkey your mom bought you when you were three. One of its arms was slightly loose now from years of wear, but you still slept with it
Your eyes felt impossibly heavy.
---
A faint tapping sounded.
Your brows furrowed tiredly against the pillow. At first you thought maybe you imagined it. Your brain was exhausted enough to start making things up.
But then it came again. A little louder this time.
You slowly pushed yourself upright, rubbing at your eyes while staring toward your bedroom window in confusion. “What the hell…” you mumbled sleepily.
The tapping came again.
You dragged yourself out of bed before walking toward the curtains, pulling them open slowly and nearly jumping out of your skin.
James stood outside your window.
Your mouth dropped open immediately. “What the fuck?” You rushed forward and shoved the window open quickly. Cool night air flooded into your room instantly.
“What are you doing here?” you whispered harshly, concern immediately replacing your exhaustion.
James just smiled softly before climbing carefully through the window into your room like this was completely normal behavior.“I told you I’d see you later.”
You blinked at him in disbelief. “Yeah,” you whisper yelled, “I thought you meant at school.”
James sat down casually on the edge of your bed like he belonged there.
“You can’t be here.”
“I’m sorry,” he said quietly. “I just…” His eyes lifted toward you again. “I can’t stop thinking about you.” Something in his expression looked intense. Almost desperate in a way you hadn’t seen before.“I needed to see you.”
Your stomach twisted slightly.
James reached forward and grabbed both your hands when you stepped closer instinctively. His grip was warm but tight enough to make you notice it.
“I can’t go even a second without seeing you,” he admitted softly. “I need you around me all the time, Y/n.”
The words should’ve sounded romantic. Part of them did. But another part of you felt something small twist uncomfortably in your chest.
Still, you gently slipped your hands from his grip before reaching up to smooth his hair back softly.
“James,” you said carefully, “you need to go home.”
Immediately, he shook his head. “No.” The answer came so fast it caught you off guard.
You stared at him for a second. “No?”
James looked back at you silently. There was still affection in his expression. Love, even. But underneath it sat something else now too. Something heavier you couldn’t fully place yet.
“James,” you said softer this time.
You slowly knelt in front of him beside the bed and cupped his face gently in your hands. “I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?”
He just stared at you momentarily. Then finally he sighed quietly and nodded once. “Okay.”
Relief loosened slightly in your chest.
“But,” he added quickly while standing up, “in science tomorrow you’re sitting next to me.”
You blinked. “Fine,” you agreed slowly.
That made him smile again immediately. “Good.” He leaned down and pressed one quick kiss against your lips before moving back toward the window.
A minute later he disappeared into the night again.
You closed the window carefully behind him before sitting back down on your bed. The mattress bounced softly beneath your weight while silence filled your room again.
You stared up at the ceiling afterward, clutching your stuffed monkey loosely against your chest. Your heartbeat had finally started calming down, but that strange feeling in your stomach still lingered.
That was really fucking weird.
And no matter how badly you wanted everything with James to be perfect. A small part of you couldn’t stop wondering if something about all of this felt a little wrong.
Warning(s): mentions of gore,blood,death,and killing.
Note: I just wanted to say thank you to the people who have stayed this long. I know James has only been in one chapter and has been briefly mentioned. So I just wanted to say thank you to the patient people. James will be back!! Just hold on a bit longer.
<<Previous TWOT Masterlist
You didn’t have anything left anymore. No food to keep you going, no water to cut through the dryness in your throat, no weapon you could properly rely on, and more than anything else, you didn’t have Keonho.
That was the part that didn’t settle right.
You felt strange in your own body, like everything had been dulled down and stretched too thin at the same time. Numb in a way that made the world feel slightly unreal, like you were moving through it instead of actually living in it. But underneath that numbness was something else, something sharper and more unstable.
Fury.
It burned low and constant, aimed without a clear target at first, then sharpening into something more focused the longer you let yourself think. The Capitol. President Snow. The arena itself and everyone who designed it, watched it, approved of it. You wanted to be angry at the other tributes too, but even that didn’t fully fit, because they were just trapped in the same machine.
So the hatred stayed with you, heavy in your chest, nowhere clean to put it.
Keonho had been the thing that kept you steady in here. Not just in the three days since the arena began, but before it too, when survival wasn’t something forced into every thought. He had been the kind of presence that made things feel manageable, like you weren’t completely alone even when everything around you was designed to isolate you.
Now there was none of that.
It was just you and your own mind.
You couldn’t leave the city. You couldn’t go back to the desert. There was nowhere safe to reset, nowhere to breathe without constantly checking over your shoulder. The only options were hiding behind collapsed debris and broken walls or risking whatever waited inside the buildings that loomed over you like traps.
You had left Keonho’s body behind. You didn’t let yourself think too long about that part, because thinking about it made everything worse, so you just kept moving instead.
You walked through the ruined streets on autopilot, circling familiar sections of the city by now, learning its layout without meaning to. Your steps were uneven, your body dragging slightly with each movement, your injured arm hanging lower than it should have. The wound from the arrow throbbed with every shift, and your other arm carried the weight of a rusted metal rod you had found, once part of a collapsed structure, now your only form of defense.
It wasn’t much but it was something.
You tightened your grip on it as you moved, scanning the space ahead, forcing yourself to stay alert even as exhaustion pulled at you from every direction.
You heard shuffling.
Your body reacted before your mind fully caught up, turning sharply toward the sound.
One of the girls from earlier, the one who had been with another on the attack of a younger tribute, stepping forward with an axe already raised like she had been waiting for you to show up again.
Your grip tightened instantly. You brought the metal rod up just in time to meet her swing, the impact ringing out sharply as steel collided with steel.
But she was faster than you expected. She shifted her weight, adjusting her stance, and came down again. This time harder, the strike hit your leg hard.
Pain shot through you instantly, sharp and blinding, and your balance collapsed beneath you as you dropped to your knees with a sharp cry. The world tilted for a second, your grip on the rod faltering.
You tried to recover, tried to push yourself back up, but she was already there.
A second hit came down, the blunt end of the axe connecting with your head.The force of it sent everything spinning.
Light fractured at the edges of your vision. The city, the sky, the broken buildings all blurring together as your body gave out beneath you.
And then there was nothing.
When you woke up, the first thing you heard was growling. Low, wet, uneven.
It echoed around you from somewhere in the darkness, distant at first, then sharper the more consciousness settled back into your body.
A dull pain pulsed through your head immediately, hard enough to make you groan as you lifted a shaky hand to your temple. The ache echoed behind your eyes, spreading through your skull in heavy waves that refused to ease no matter how tightly you squeezed your eyes shut.
Light burned against your vision.
You blinked slowly, your eyes watering as you tried to adjust, the brightness above you too harsh after whatever amount of time you had been unconscious. Your hearing sharpened before your sight fully did, the sounds around you becoming clearer one by one.
There was snarling, scratching, chains rattling.
Your breathing slowed. Then your vision finally focused enough for you to see them. Your stomach dropped instantly.
It was those stupid things.
They surrounded you in a loose circle, lurking just beyond the edge of the light overhead. Some crouched low to the ground while others stood twitching and uneven, their heads jerking as they sniffed the air, mouths hanging open with blackened saliva dripping from broken teeth.
They were reaching for you. Clawing toward you. But chains held them back.
Thick restraints wrapped around their waists, necks, or arms, attached somewhere in the darkness behind them. Every time one lunged too close, the chains yanked tight with a metallic snap, dragging the creature backward as it let out furious snarls and guttural screeches.
You slowly pushed yourself upright despite the dizziness threatening to pull you back down.
The movement immediately caught their attention. Several of them jerked violently toward you at once, snarling harder now, teeth bared in frustration as their restraints strained.
Your chest tightened.
Your hand moved to your face quickly, only to find your goggles gone and the fabric that used to cover your nose and mouth missing too. Your turban had been taken, leaving you in only your tank top and pants.
That girl. She must’ve stripped you of anything useful while you were unconscious.
At least she left your shoes.
Your breathing stayed shallow as you stared at the creatures surrounding you, your eyes darting around for any kind of exit.
But there wasn’t much to see.
The only real light came from directly above you, pouring down in a harsh beam that trapped you in visibility while everything beyond it disappeared into darkness. The walls around you were impossible to make out completely, swallowed by shadows thick enough to hide anything.
And that made it worse.
Because you couldn’t tell if these chained creatures were the only ones down there with you.
“You don’t seem that frightened.” The voice echoed through the darkness surrounding you, calm and almost amused.
You immediately turned toward the sound, your eyes searching the shadows beyond the light, but there was nothing there you could clearly make out. Just darkness swallowing everything whole.
All you knew was that it was a woman’s voice.
Your grip tightened slightly at your sides as the creatures around you continued snarling and clawing against their restraints, their sounds bouncing off the walls in ugly echoes that made the space feel even smaller.
“You’ve seen them before.” It wasn’t asked like a question it sounded certain.
Still, you answered. “Yes.” Your voice came out rougher than intended, echoing faintly through the room before being drowned out by a sudden rise in growls around you. One of the creatures lunged harder toward the center, chains rattling violently as it snapped its teeth in your direction.
Then came the sharp sound of metal tightening. One of the creatures were jerked backward suddenly, dragged into the darkness with an angry screech before disappearing completely out of sight.
Your breathing slowed carefully as you stared into the shadows again.
Two girls stepped out. The same two who had laughed while beating that smaller tribute into the ground. The memory hit instantly, the image of that young blonde girl curled up trying to shield herself while they smiled down at her.
Your jaw clenched hard.
The girl with the axe tilted her head slightly as she looked at you standing there in the middle of the chained creatures. “Well,” she said with a disappointed sigh, “that makes this a little less fun now, doesn’t it?”
The other girl snorted softly beside her, leaning against the wall like this was all just entertainment.
You stared at them silently, anger twisting low in your stomach as the creatures continued snarling around you.
The axe girl noticed your expression immediately and smirked wider. “Oh, don’t look at us like that,” she mocked. “You’re still trapped down here with them.”
Almost as if to emphasize her point, one of the creatures lunged again, claws stretching toward you before the chains snapped tight with a violent metallic sound. Its screech echoed through the room, sharp enough to make the hairs on your arms rise.
But your eyes never left the girls.
You stared at them through the dim light, chest rising unevenly as the creatures snarled around you.
“Did you do this?” you asked, motioning toward the undead things circling you.
The broader shouldered girl stepped forward first, arms crossing over her chest as a smug grin spread across her face.
“She thought of it,” she said, jerking her head toward the green eyed girl beside her. “But I made it.”
Your eyes flicked between them slowly before you gave a small hum and nodded once.
The green eyed girl’s jaw clenched hard enough for the muscle to twitch. The other girl’s fists curled tightly at her sides, irritation flashing across her face when you didn’t react the way they wanted you to.
You should’ve been terrified.
Surrounded in the dark by chained monsters with no weapon and barely enough strength to stand. But something inside you had dulled after Keonho. Fear didn’t hit the same anymore.
The girls glanced at each other silently before the broader one smirked again, this time sharper. “Let’s have some fun, shall we?”
Then they turned and disappeared back into the darkness, their laughter echoing through the room in loud, manic bursts that slowly faded farther and farther away until all that remained were the sounds of chains and growling.
Then came the metallic rattling again.
The one creature they had dragged away earlier was thrown back into the circle. And one by one there chains loosened.
Your stomach dropped instantly.
The creatures surged forward harder this time, their restraints no longer pulling them back as far. Decayed hands grabbed at your clothes, claws scraping against fabric as snarls erupted all around you. One lunged close enough for you to smell the rot pouring from its mouth.
Your pulse slammed against your ribs.
You knew how to fight. At least a little.
Finnick had made sure of that after his Games, that if your name was ever called, you needed to know how to survive long enough to think.
Now those lessons were all you had.
Six of them. You counted quickly.
One grabbed at you again.
This time you reacted immediately, catching its arm before it could fully reach you. You twisted hard and slammed your forearm down into the crook of its elbow.
A crack echoed.
The arm bent wrong instantly, dangling uselessly. But it didn’t fall off. These things were too decayed to function normally but somehow still strong enough to keep moving.
The creature screeched in your face, black saliva spraying from its mouth as you shoved it backward hard enough for it to hit the ground.
Another one lunged.
You dodged barely in time, your body aching from exhaustion as you kicked the side of its knee. The leg gave out beneath it and it collapsed forward with a snarl.
You punched it directly in the face once.
It barely slowed. So you stomped down hard instead, again and again until blood splattered across your pants and arms, the creature twitching beneath you.
Movement to your left.
The one you had shoved earlier was already getting back up. You grabbed it by the shoulders and threw it sideways into another charging creature.
Both crashed together violently. One immediately sank its teeth into the other in blind aggression, screeching and clawing as the two tangled together on the ground.
There were three left and now there was a gap.
You didn’t waste it. Ignoring the burning pain in your shoulder and leg, you forced your body forward into a weak jog, throwing yourself into the darkness beyond the circle before the remaining creatures could fully recover.
You ran. Well, limped more than anything.
Every step sent pain shooting through your body, your injured leg threatening to give out while your shoulder burned with every movement. Your breathing came out ragged and uneven, chest tight from exhaustion as you pushed yourself deeper into the darkness.
Behind you, metal clanged somewhere in the distance. Then footsteps. the sounds only grew louder. Followed by guttural roars that echoed through the halls.
You looked back briefly and immediately regretted it. Three dark shapes were charging after you through the shadows, their movements jerky but terrifyingly fast.
You turned back quickly, your pulse hammering in your ears as you tried to figure out where the hell you were even going. There was barely any light down here, only scattered shadows stretching across the walls and floor, so you started using those instead. Watching where darkness broke. Watching where shapes formed around corners.
It was the only thing guiding you. And somehow, eventually, it led you to a door.
A heavy metal one with a small square window near the top. You couldn’t see anything through it except darkness. Still, you grabbed the knob desperately.
Locked. Like fucking always
A frustrated grunt tore from your throat as you slammed your fist against it. “Fuck!”
Your entire body shook from exhaustion. You leaned your forehead against the cold metal for a second, breathing hard as a tear slipped down your cheek before you could stop it.
You didn’t even know anymore. If you wanted to keep fighting. Or if you just wanted everything to stop.
But then you heard those creatures again, closer now, snarling and screeching somewhere behind you. And all you could think about was Cole. About what those things did when they caught someone.
You couldn’t end like that.
You stepped back and slammed your shoulder against the door. Again and again
Pain exploded through your injured arm but you kept going, throwing your weight into it over and over until finally the lock gave.
The door flew inward and you stumbled with it, collapsing hard onto the floor.
You forced yourself back up immediately, grabbing the door and slamming it shut just as snarling shapes reached the other side.
Claws scraped violently against the metal.
You leaned against the door, breathing hard, your body trembling as relief briefly washed over you.
You actually made it.
Then a voice cut through the room. “Don’t get too happy. I let you in because I wanted to.”
Your head snapped up instantly.
The green eyed girl stood across from you and beside her the broad shouldered one.
Your expression hardened immediately.
The green eyed girl crossed her arms loosely while studying you with an almost entertained look.
“You’re a fighter,” she said casually. “We like that.”
The other girl smirked. “Join us,” she added, “and we’ll keep you alive a little longer.”
For a second, silence sat between all of you. Then you laughed. A sharp full one. Breathless. Unhinged enough that both girls visibly stiffened.
You laughed so hard your chest hurt, your head tilting slightly as the sound echoed through the room while the creatures outside continued slamming themselves against the door behind you.
The girls exchanged a quick glance.
You slowly stepped toward them.
Toward the green eyed girl specifically. She didn’t move at first, though her posture tightened slightly the closer you got.
“My friend died because of one of those things,” you said quietly, pointing briefly toward the banging door and the snarling creatures outside.
Then suddenly you moved fast enough to catch her off guard.
You grabbed the front of her shirt and slammed her face against the small glass window in the door. The impact made her grunt sharply as the creatures outside immediately reacted, screeching and clawing at the glass inches from her face.
At the same time, your other hand ripped the knife from the holster at her hip.
The broad shouldered girl stepped forward instantly.
“Get the fuck off her!—”
“Eh, eh,” you cut in sharply, raising the knife slightly in warning. Your breathing was uneven. Blood streaked your skin. Your eyes looked exhausted.
You held the green eyed girl tightly against the shattered window, one hand gripping the front of her shirt while the other kept the knife raised toward her remaining friend.
Your breathing may be uneven but your movements weren’t panicked anymore.
They were calculated.
The broad shouldered girl looked between you and her friend, fury flashing across her face as she tightened her grip on her own knife.
Then she charged.
A sharp whoosh cut through the air from the force of her movement.
But you had already been waiting for it. You moved first. The knife in your hand flashed forward quickly.
There was a gasp. Then a wet choking sound.
The broad shouldered girl stumbled suddenly, both hands flying to her throat as blood poured between her fingers. Her eyes widened in shock, mouth opening soundlessly as she dropped to her knees.Then fully to the floor. Her body twitched weakly while thick blood spread beneath her.
The green eyed girl broke instantly. “No!” she cried, tears spilling down her face as she stared at her dying friend.
Your expression never changed. Your eyes stayed dark and hollow as you yanked her back harder against the window. “You cry for her,” you said coldly, “but you didn’t cry for the little girl you killed.”
Her face twisted in panic. “Please—”
Frustration exploded through you before she could say anything else.
You slammed her head back against the glass hard enough for it to crack further. Blood immediately ran down the side of her forehead as she cried out.
Outside the creatures reacted instantly, snarling louder now that fresh blood filled the air. Their claws scraped violently against the metal and glass, desperate to reach inside.
The girl sobbed openly now. “Please… have mercy…”
A dark empty laugh escaped you. “My mercy,” you said quietly, “does not prevail over my wrath.” Then you grabbed her with both hands and shoved forward with all the strength you had left.
Her head crashed straight through the weakened window with a loud burst of glass.
The creatures outside reacted immediately. Hands grabbed her first. Then teeth.
She screamed. High pitched and desperate as they dragged at her face and shoulders, biting and clawing while she fought violently to pull herself back inside. Her fingers scraped desperately against the floor trying to find leverage.
And you just stood there watching. Your chest rose slowly with each breath, your face completely unreadable now as her screams echoed through the room beneath the snarls of the creatures tearing into her.
The sound of the cannon echoed through the arena twice in a row, each blast rumbling through the building like distant thunder.
You stayed where you were on the floor, staring blankly ahead while the noise faded into silence again.
The green eyed girl’s body still hung halfway through the broken window, limp and twisted awkwardly while the creatures outside slowly wandered off one by one, finished with her now like scavengers abandoning scraps. Blood dripped steadily from the edge of the shattered glass onto the floor below.
You didn’t look away. You didn’t feel much of anything at the moment
At some point, two more cannons sounded somewhere in the distance.
Eventually you forced yourself to stand, though your body immediately protested. Pain shot through your shoulder where the arrow had gone through, your arm still weak from the cut Keonho had given you, your leg aching from the axe strike earlier. Every bruise and wound felt heavier now that the adrenaline was finally wearing off.
You grabbed the dead girl by the back of her shirt and pulled. Her body slid off the window frame before hitting the floor with a sickening thud.
You froze for half a second at the sight of her face...Or what was left of it.
The creatures had stripped away most of the skin and flesh, leaving exposed bone drenched in blood. One eye was completely gone.
You swallowed hard and looked away.
Then slowly walked toward the door. You cracked it open carefully, peeking both directions down the dark hallway.
Nothing. Just silence. The kind that makes you feel sick to your stomach.
You shut the door again and rubbed both hands over your face, exhausted beyond belief. Your fingers dragged through dried blood and dirt before you looked back at the two dead girls lying across the floor.
You searched them. They may have something you need.
You crouched beside the green eyed girl first, checking pockets and belts. Other than the knife you’d already taken, there wasn’t much useful left.
The other girl had a crushed granola bar stuffed in her back pocket. You ate it immediately. Didn’t even think about saving it.
The dry oats practically glued themselves to your throat but you forced it down anyway, your stomach aching for anything it could get.
As you kept searching, your fingers brushed against folded cloth hidden under the broad shouldered girl’s jacket.
You pulled it out carefully. It was stained with blood in several places, old and dried.
At first you thought it was just another rag until you realized there were markings drawn across it. Lines. Arrows. Symbols.
A map.
A rough layout of the building.
Your tired eyes scanned over it slowly as realization settled in.
You were actually close to an exit.
Not the direction you came from thankfully, meaning you probably wouldn’t have to pass through the creatures again.
Finally something was going right.
A shaky breath left your lips as relief briefly flickered through your chest.
You folded the cloth carefully and held it close while stepping toward the door again. The darkness outside seemed even deeper now without the creatures snarling around you.
“You made a map,” you muttered bitterly to yourself, squinting into the dark hallway, “but don’t have a flashlight.” Your voice echoed softly through the building before silence swallowed it whole again.
You stepped carefully out of the room, keeping one hand against the wall while the other held the bloodstained cloth map close to your face.
According to the crude drawing, you needed to turn left first. Then right through a narrow hallway. Then straight.
Simple enough in theory. But every shadow in this place felt alive.
You moved slowly, limping slightly from your injuries while trying not to make too much noise. The darkness around you seemed endless, broken only by weak light leaking from distant flickering bulbs overhead. Every few seconds you glanced back down at the map, following the uneven lines the girls had drawn.
Your breathing stayed shallow.
The hallway finally opened into a much larger room. You paused immediately upon entering it.
The space was huge, the ceiling disappearing into darkness above while rusted shapes sat scattered across the floor. You looked back down at the cloth map.
Poorly drawn rectangles. Cars. Your eyebrows furrowed as you looked between the map and the room.
This must’ve once been some kind of underground parking area.
You followed the path shown on the cloth carefully, weaving through the old vehicles while trying not to make sound. Some of them had broken windows. Others looked half crushed beneath fallen concrete and sand.
Then you heard that sound again. The sound of rattling metal chains scraping softly somewhere nearby.
You froze for half a second before continuing forward, more cautious now. Your eyes darted around the darkness between the cars while your grip tightened around the knife.
The exit door came into view ahead of you. Relief nearly hit your chest.
Almost there.
Then a low growl echoed from the corner near the door.
Your body immediately tensed.
In the darkness something shifted violently.
A creature lunged toward you suddenly, snarling with its mouth wide open, only to be jerked back harshly by heavy chains attached around its torso. The force made it stumble backward while it thrashed wildly against the restraints trying to reach you.
Your face twisted in disgust. The girls had placed these things around like guard dogs.
Sick.
Then your eyes focused properly on the creature.
Messy blonde hair, thin frame, scrawny shoulders.
Your body stopped moving entirely. You stared.
The creature snarled and clawed toward you desperately, chains rattling loudly with every movement. But all you could focus on was the face underneath the decay.
Your lips parted slightly. “…Arnie?” Your voice came out barely above a soft disbelieving whisper.
The creature jerked harder at the sound, growling through broken breaths while reaching toward you with frantic movements.
You didn’t cry.
You just stood there stunned, trying to process what you were seeing.
If he was dead… why hadn’t the cannon sounded?
How long has he been like this?
Why hadn’t his face appeared in the sky?
The thoughts barely had time to settle before survival took over again.
Your expression hardened instantly. You drew the knife fast.
Before the creature could lunge again, you grabbed both of its wrists and used its own momentum to slam it onto the ground. The chains rattled violently beneath it as you climbed over him, pinning his thin struggling body down.
He snarled up at you wildly. But beneath all the rot and rage you could still see pieces of the terrified little boy from the cave.
Your jaw clenched painfully. And with one quick motion, you drove the knife straight into his head.
The creature jerked once beneath you before going still.
And at that exact moment
BOOM.
The cannon echoed through the arena.
Your breathing stopped.
Slowly, you looked down at Arnie’s lifeless body beneath you while confusion twisted violently in your chest.
Summary: y/n secretly loves her friend James and uses a mysterious object called the One Wish Willow to make him fall for her. At first it seems like her dream came true, but James love soon turns obsessive and terrifying, twisting their relationship into a nightmare.
Note: There will be a part two. Seonghyeon throughout the fic will go by his nickname Sean. Also edited the photo of James to be bruised it is not real. And this was inspired by the trailer obsession.
CAST:
Jang Wonyoung as Hani
Kim Minji as Nara
Odessa a'zion as Juniper
River phoenix as Ronnie
Cortis as themselves
Every person on this planet is greedy in one way or another. Everyone wants something. Maybe it’s something small, like a new puppy or the latest gaming console. Maybe it’s money, attention, success something they think will finally make them happy. Some people get what they want, and others spend their whole lives chasing it.
And you? You already have most things people your age would ask for. There’s always enough money when you want something. Your brother lets you borrow his console whenever you ask. You even had a dog when you were younger, back before life started feeling so complicated.
But none of those things matter anymore.
What you want now is Zhao Yufan. Or James, as he likes to be called.
Your friend.
You’ve spent so much time together that being around him feels natural now. The two of you hanging out without the rest of the group, sitting at the park long after the sun starts to set, your feet dragging against the gravel beneath the swings while you talk about everything and nothing at the same time. Sharing takeout containers between the two of you because neither of you ever orders enough. Riding in James’s car with the windows rolled down while music blasts through the speakers, the night air warm against your skin as streetlights blur past.
The point is you know him. Really know him. The way he laughs when something genuinely catches him off guard. The way he drums his fingers against the steering wheel to songs he pretends not to like. The little pauses in his voice when he’s thinking too hard about something.
And he knows you too. At least, he thinks he does. Because there’s one thing James doesn’t know.
One thing you’ve hidden behind every casual conversation, every lingering glance, every moment that felt just a little too important to only mean friendship.
You’re in love with him.
Hopelessly, painfully, completely in love with him. And no matter how hard you try to ignore it, every part of you aches for him to be yours.
That’s your greed.
Him.
It was Monday morning, October nineteenth exactly one week before Halloween. It was the kind of autumn morning where the air was cold enough to sting your cheeks for a second when you stepped outside, but not cold enough to stop people from rolling their windows down to let music spill into the streets. The sky was still painted in soft shades of gray and pale orange, the sun barely awake as students dragged themselves toward another long day of classes.
Your car smelled faintly like vanilla air freshener, coffee, and the fries Junie swore she “wasn’t hungry enough to finish” thirty minutes ago. Music played low through the speakers, occasionally interrupted by somebody talking over it louder than necessary. The drive to campus was never quiet with your friends around.
In the passenger seat sat Hani, scrolling through her phone while fixing her lip gloss in the mirror every few minutes. At twenty one and already a junior in college, she somehow always looked effortlessly put together. Her nails were always done, her outfits always matched, and she treated every hallway like it was her personal runway. She was the girly girl of the group without shame—obsessed with skincare, shopping, and gossip—but she could also tear someone apart with one judgmental look alone.
Behind her sat Nara, twenty two years old and a senior in college. Complete opposite of Hani. Nara practically lived in oversized hoodies, sneakers, and cargo pants, usually with headphones hanging around her neck like an accessory. She was the tomboy of the group, the kind of person who could stay awake for twenty hours straight just to finish a video game tournament. Her dream was becoming a professional gamer someday, and honestly, with how terrifyingly good she was at every game she touched, none of you doubted she could actually do it.
Then there was Juniper though if you called her that to her face, there was a very real chance she’d hit you. June, or Junie only. Twenty years old and somehow already causing chaos before eight in the morning. She sat in the middle seat sprawled out like she owned the entire back row, talking over everyone, laughing at her own jokes, and saying things most people would never dare say out loud. She didn’t care if people stared. Didn’t care if teachers got annoyed. Junie lived exactly how she wanted, unapologetically loud and brutally honest. She was the type to make an entire room laugh without even trying.
Next to her sat Ronnie, quietly adjusting his glasses while arguing with Nara about some random science fact nobody else understood. At only seventeen, Ronnie was somehow already a sophomore in college after skipping multiple grades. He was the genius of the group. The kind of smart that made professors nervous. Every subject came naturally to him, which was annoying considering he barely studied. But outside of academics, Ronnie was a complete nerd in the most lovable way possible. Mention Star Wars once, and he’d talk for three straight hours without needing encouragement.
And then there was you.
Hands resting on the steering wheel, eyes flicking between the road and your chaotic group of friends while their voices blended together around you. At twenty years old, only five months younger than Junie, and the second youngest of the group and a freshman in college yourself. Unlike most of them, your life wasn’t built around dorm parties or campus clubs. Half your week was spent standing behind the register at the town grocery store, scanning items for impatient customers.
You were quieter than the others. The type of person who naturally drifted toward the back of the classroom instead of the front. Observant. The one who noticed things people didn’t realize they were showing. You were shy around new people, awkward sometimes, never really knowing what to say at first.
But around your friends you laughed so hard your stomach hurt. You talked louder. Smiled easier. Became someone warmer, freer, less trapped inside your own head. And mornings like this crammed in a car full of people who somehow became your favorite part of life. Made college feel a little less exhausting.
The second you pulled into the crowded campus parking lot, the energy in the car shifted completely. Students moved across the sidewalks in groups, coffee cups in hand, backpacks slung lazily over shoulders while the cold October air carried overlapping conversations across the lot. Somewhere nearby, somebody was blasting music from their car loud enough to shake windows.
You parked near the edge of the courtyard, the engine going quiet as everyone immediately started gathering their things.
A chorus of car doors slammed one after another.
Juniper was the first one out, dramatically throwing her backpack over one shoulder like she was preparing for battle instead of class. She stretched her arms toward the sky before sighing heavily.
“Well,” she announced to absolutely nobody, “this is the part where I kill myself.”
Before she could take two steps, Nara shoved a hand against the middle of her back, pushing her forward. “Keep walking, drama queen.”
Junie stumbled a little before glaring over her shoulder. “One day I’m reporting you for abuse.”
“I'll survive.”
You locked the car and followed behind them, adjusting the strap of your bag higher onto your shoulder. Beside you, Hani was already fixing her hair using her phone camera while Ronnie quietly complained about an upcoming test nobody else remembered existed.
The campus courtyard was packed this early in the morning. Students crowded around benches and tables, some rushing to class while others lingered around talking. Fallen orange leaves skittered across the pavement every time the wind picked up, and Halloween decorations hung from some of the nearby buildings.
You were barely paying attention until Nara suddenly grabbed your arm hard enough to make you stumble slightly.
“Oop,” she said slowly, a grin immediately spreading across her face. “Speak of the devil.”
Your stomach dropped before you even followed her gaze. Across the courtyard, near the fountain in the center of campus, stood James.
And unfortunately for your sanity, he looked good.
He stood with his usual group of friends, hands shoved casually into the pockets of his jacket while laughing at something one of them had said. Even from this far away, you could recognize all four of them immediately. Martin leaning against the fountain edge looking half asleep, Sean talking with his hands like always, Juhoon scrolling through his phone while pretending not to listen, and Keonho standing beside James with his arms crossed.
You’d met them enough times through hangouts and mutual friends that being around them wasn’t awkward anymore. Still, your chest tightened every single time your eyes landed on James for too long.
Like now.
As if he somehow felt you staring, James glanced up mid conversation.
Your eyes met from across the courtyard. And just like that, the noise around you seemed quieter.
James’s expression softened almost immediately in recognition before a small smile tugged at the corner of his lips. Nothing huge. Nothing dramatic. Just warm and easy and so painfully natural. He lifted his chin slightly in a small nod toward you.
Your heart betrayed you instantly. You smiled back before you could stop yourself, giving a quick nod in return.
The second it happened, your friends lost their minds silently beside you.
Hani slapped a hand over her mouth dramatically while Junie grabbed Nara’s arm shaking violently like she was witnessing live television. Ronnie physically turned away to hide his grin.
“Oh my god,” Junie whispered loudly.
“You are disgusting,” Nara added with a grin.
You immediately shoved both of them away. “Shut up.”
“Did you see the smile?” Hani hissed.
“There was eye contact,” Ronnie muttered like he was analyzing scientific evidence.
“Guys,” you warned, trying and failing to stop your own embarrassed smile.
Meanwhile, across the courtyard, Sean noticed the interaction instantly and elbowed James in the side hard enough to make him stumble slightly.
You didn’t hear what was said, but judging by the way James rolled his eyes afterward, his friends were clearly no better than yours.
Unfortunately for you, your building entrance sat directly past James and his friends. Meaning there was absolutely no avoiding them.
The closer your group got, the more aware you became of your heartbeat. Junie and Nara were suddenly walking suspiciously slower beside you, clearly waiting to see what happened.
Sean noticed your group first, immediately smirking as he elbowed James hard enough to make him stumble slightly again. James muttered something at him with an eye roll before looking back toward you.
Then your groups met near the walkway leading into the building.
“Morning,” James said casually.
Just one word, and somehow your brain short circuited. “Hi,” you answered maybe a second too late.
God. Why did your voice suddenly sound so awkward?
Meanwhile your friends stood behind you pretending not to listen while very obviously listening.
James smiled slightly, adjusting the strap of his bag over his shoulder. “You guys heading to class?”
Nara snorted quietly behind you.
“No,” Junie answered before you could speak. “We actually just wander around campus aimlessly until nighttime.”
“Shut up,” you mumbled without looking at her.
James laughed softly at that, and the sound alone nearly killed you.
Then he looked back at you specifically.
“Uh, actually,” he started, “me and the guys were thinking about hanging out after school later. Maybe getting food or something.” He paused for a second. “You guys should come.”
Your stomach flipped violently. Because he was looking directly at you while saying it. And instead of answering like a normal person, your brain completely stopped functioning.
You just stared at him.
James waited patiently, eyes still on yours, probably expecting literally any response at all.
Behind you, Hani looked seconds away from exploding. Then suddenly an elbow jammed hard into your side.
You flinched back to reality, glaring at Nara while she widened her eyes aggressively like answer him before he thinks you died.
“Oh—uh, yeah,” you said quickly, heat rushing into your face. “Yeah, maybe. That sounds fun.”
A small grin appeared on James’s face, softer this time, almost amused. “Cool,” he said. “I’ll text you later then.”
You nodded maybe too fast. “Okay.”
The conversation ended naturally after that, both groups starting to move again toward the building entrance, but the second James walked past you, Junie grabbed both of your shoulders violently.
“You are INSANE,” she whisper yelled.
“I literally watched her soul leave her body,” Ronnie added.
“You stared at him for, like, five whole seconds,” Hani groaned dramatically.
You covered your face with one hand immediately. “Please shut up.”
Students flooded out of buildings in loud groups, some already heading home while others lingered around talking.
You stood outside near the front steps with your friends, your bag hanging off one shoulder while Junie complained for the hundredth time that her professor “clearly had personal beef with her.”
“I’m serious,” Juniper said dramatically, pacing in front of the group. “He moved me to the front of the class without a reason. None.”
“You were talking,” Nara pointed out.
“That’s not the point.”
Beside you, Hani scrolled through clothes on her phone while Ronnie sat on the low concrete ledge nearby, quietly listening while occasionally adjusting his glasses.
You checked your phone for probably the tenth time in five minutes, pretending you weren’t waiting for someone specific.
Unfortunately, your friends noticed everything.
Nara smirked immediately. “Girl, if you check your phone one more time, it’s gonna explode.”
“I’m not checking for anything,” you defended quickly.
“Mhmm.”
Before you could argue back, Junie suddenly looked toward the building entrance behind you. “Oh, your man has perfect timing.”
Your stomach dropped instantly. You turned before you could stop yourself.
James was walking down the front steps alone, one hand holding the strap of his bag while the other shoved loosely into the pocket of his hoodie. His hair looked slightly messy like he’d been running his hands through it all day, and even from a distance he somehow carried himself in that annoyingly effortless way that made your chest tighten every time.
You hated how quickly you noticed him now.
James spotted your group almost immediately and changed direction toward you guys, a small smile appearing the closer he got.
“Hey,” he greeted casually once he reached everyone.
“Heyyy,” Hani answered in a voice way too excited to sound normal.
You elbowed her instantly.
James laughed quietly under his breath before looking back at the group. “So, what’s everyone doing after this?"
“Trying to survive adulthood,” Junie answered dramatically.
“Failing,” Nara added.
James shook his head with a grin. “I meant tonight.”
“Oh,” Nara said. “Nothing yet.”
“We were trying to figure out where to hang out,” Hani added.
James nodded slightly. “You guys could come to my place if you want. We can just chill for a while.”
Before anyone else could answer, Ronnie suddenly leaned forward from where he sat with the smallest smirk pulling at his mouth.
“Or,” he said slowly, “we could go to y/n's house.”
Every single head immediately turned toward you.
Your eyes widened. “Ronnie.”
“What?” he asked innocently. “Your brother has a PlayStation.”
Junie gasped dramatically. “Wait, he does."
“And he’s gone tonight,” Ronnie continued, clearly enjoying your suffering now. “Didn’t you say he was hanging out with his girlfriend?”
You stared at him in betrayal while the others immediately started agreeing.
“Oh my god, yes,” Nara said. “Your house is better.”
“Hers has snacks,” Hani added importantly.
“You guys are literally inviting yourselves over right now,” you pointed out.
“And?” Junie asked without shame.
You opened your mouth to argue before James laughed softly beside you.
The sound alone completely ruined your ability to think properly.
“I’m down for that,” he said easily. Then his eyes landed on you specifically. “If that’s okay with you.”
There it was again.That stupid nervous feeling in your chest every time he looked at you for more than two seconds.
“Uh… yeah,” you answered after a moment. “That’s fine.”
Junie immediately celebrated like you’d just announced free concert tickets.
“Perfect,” James said with a grin. “I just gotta go pick up the others first.”
“The others?” Hani asked.
“Martin, Sean, Juhoon, and Keonho,” James explained. “They’re still in high school, remember?”
“Oh right,” Ronnie said.
“They were only here this morning because our classes start earlier than their school does,” James added. “I usually drop them off before coming here.”
“That’s kinda cute actually,” Hani said.
James looked horrified. “Don’t call it cute.”
“It’s very unc coded,” Nara added immediately.
“Please stop talking."
Junie grinned. “Aww, look at him taking his children to school.”
“They’re literally like two years younger than me.”
“Still children.”
James rolled his eyes, laughing despite himself before looking back at you. “It won’t take long though. Their school’s not far.”
You nodded, trying not to focus too hard on the fact that he kept looking at you when he spoke.
“Okay.”
“Cool. We’ll meet you there then. see you guys later,” he said casually. James finally stepped backwards, adjusting the strap of his bag over his shoulder.
And just like that, your stomach twisted all over again.
“Drive safe, soccer mom,” Juniper called after him immediately.
James snorted, pointing at her as he walked backwards a little. "At least I can drive"
"The mailboxes were in my way!"
"Or maybe your just not a good driver ." With one last laugh, he turned and headed toward his car.
And unfortunately for you, your eyes followed him automatically. You watched him disappear between rows of cars before finally forcing yourself to look away.
Huge mistake because the second you turned back around, your entire friend group was staring at you.
“Oh my god,” Hani groaned dramatically. “You need to talk more around him.”
“I do talk,” you defended immediately.
“No,” Nara corrected. “You answer in, like, two word sentences and then stare at the ground.”
Ronnie nodded seriously from beside her. “Objectively true.”
You rolled your eyes. “You guys are annoying.”
“We’re annoying?” Junie repeated loudly. “Girl, he asks you a simple question and suddenly you forget how to function.”
“That is not true.”
“It absolutely is,” Hani said. “You guys literally hang out alone all the time. Why are you still acting shy?”
You hesitated slightly before shrugging. “Because it’s different.”
The group quieted for a second.
“How?” Ronnie asked.
You adjusted your bag awkwardly on your shoulder before answering. “I don’t know… when it’s just me and him, it’s easier.”
Your friends waited for you to continue.
“He’s easy to talk to when we’re alone,” you admitted quietly. “Like when we’re driving around or sitting somewhere by ourselves, it doesn’t feel awkward. But when there’s other people around, I start overthinking everything I say.”
Nara snorted softly. “So basically you get nervous.”
You groaned. “I hate you.”
“Awww,” Hani cooed immediately.
“Don’t do that.”
“She’s got it bad,” Junie whispered loudly to Ronnie.
“Very bad,” Ronnie agreed.
You shoved both of them away while they laughed.
The thing was, you knew your friends liked teasing you about James because it was easy. Easy to notice the way you looked at him too long sometimes. Easy to notice how quickly your mood shifted whenever he texted or invited you somewhere.
But none of that meant anything on his side.
James was just… friendly.
That was who he was. Easygoing. Nice. Comfortable to be around. He treated you the same way he treated everyone else in the group.
You were the only one making things complicated in your own head.
“He literally just sees me as a friend,” you muttered, mostly to yourself.
Hani immediately frowned. “You don’t know that.”
“Yes I do,” you said quickly. "He’s just being nice."
Nara exchanged a look with Junie but thankfully didn’t push it further this time.
Instead Junie slung an arm dramatically around your shoulders. “Well until he falls madly in love with you—.”
“He is not gonna ‘fall madly in love’ with me.”
“You never know,” Ronnie offered.
You shook your head immediately. “No, trust me. I know.”
And honestly, you did. Because having a crush on James felt less like something hopeful and more like willingly torturing yourself over someone you could never fully have.
Still, that didn’t stop your stomach from twisting every time he smiled at you. Or stop you from already thinking about the fact that in less than an hour, he’d be sitting in your living room.
After dropping everyone off at their respective houses, your car finally felt quiet for the first time all day. No Junie yelling dramatic nonsense from the backseat. No Hani arguing over music. No Ronnie randomly explaining some useless fact nobody asked for. Just the soft hum of the engine and the faint music playing from the radio.
You drove home a little faster than usual, fingers tapping nervously against the steering wheel the closer you got. Because now that everyone was actually coming over, all you could think about was how your house looked.
And the fact that James was going to be there.
The second you parked in the driveway, you were already pulling your keys out before the engine fully shut off. You hurried inside, immediately greeted by the quiet stillness of the house.
Your brother was out with his girlfriend like Ronnie said he would be, and your mom was still at work for another few hours. Before leaving campus, you’d texted her letting her know some friends were coming over. She’d replied almost instantly.
'As long as everything is clean after they leave, I don’t care.'
Which meant now you were speed cleaning like your life depended on it.
You rushed around the living room first, grabbing random blankets off the couch and folding them quickly before shoving old cups and wrappers into the trash. The TV stand got wiped down next, along with the coffee table covered in your brother’s junk. You straightened pillows probably three separate times even though nobody would care.
Then the kitchen.
You cleaned the counters, shoved dishes into the dishwasher, wiped away crumbs, and organized snacks into bowls like this was some kind of actual party instead of a casual hangout. Chips. Candy. Drinks lined neatly in the fridge.
Then the hallway bathroom.
You cleaned the sink, checked the mirror for water spots, changed the hand towel, and lit a seasonal candle that smelled faintly like apple and pumpkin before immediately blowing it back out because what if that looked weird?
By the time you finished, you were slightly out of breath and sweating from rushing around the house.
So you took a quick shower.
Warm water rushed over your skin while your thoughts ran in circles the entire time. What if things got awkward? What if everyone got bored? What if James didn’t even really wanna come and was just being polite?
You changed afterward into black baggy sweats and an old fitted Spiderman top that showed the slightest bit of skin whenever you moved a certain way. Comfortable enough to look casual, but still something you stared at in the mirror too long deciding on.
Your hair still slightly damp, you finally collapsed backward onto your bed with a long sigh.
The room was quiet except for the faint sound of cars passing outside your window.
You reached for your phone, checking the time.
5:55 PM.
They’d probably be here around six.
You dropped your phone beside you and stared blankly up at the ceiling.
And unfortunately, the second things got quiet, your thoughts got louder.
Your chest tightened slightly as your mind drifted somewhere ugly. Somewhere familiar.
You were twenty years old.
And you’d never dated anyone. Never kissed anyone. Never had anybody look at you like they actually wanted you.
Was it because you were ugly? Too awkward? Too quiet? Maybe just fundamentally unlovable somehow.
Every guy you’d ever liked barely noticed you existed. And the few times somebody maybe could’ve liked you back, you were too scared to say anything anyway.
You wanted love so badly lately it almost embarrassed you.
Someone to hold your hand first. Someone to text you goodnight because they wanted to. Someone who looked at you and thought you were enough.
Your throat tightened painfully.
And James made it worse without even trying.
Because he was nice to you. Comfortable. Easy to be around. He remembered things you said. Asked about your day. Waited for you after class sometimes.
But that didn’t mean anything that was just who he was.
The only reason the two of you were even friends now was because one day he’d asked you for notes in class. That was it. Something small and forgettable. Then he started talking to you outside class too. Then around his friends. And now his entire group greeted you when they saw you, asking how you were like you’d always belonged there.
Meanwhile you were sitting here stupidly in love with someone who probably never once thought of you that way.
A tear slipped down your cheek before you even realized you were crying. You sat up slowly, wiping your face with your hand before looking down at the floor.
Why weren’t you enough for somebody?
You leaned back slightly on your arms, your hand brushing against something underneath your pillow. Your brows furrowed. “What the hell?” you muttered quietly to yourself.
You pulled the object out carefully.
It was a small makeshift looking box, red and white with a strange vintage design printed across it. It looked old fashioned but somehow completely untouched at the same time, like something bought from an antique store yesterday.
And you knew for a fact you’d never seen it before.
Slowly, you turned it over in your hands. On the front, written in faded script letters, were the words... One Wish Willow.
Your eyebrows pulled together in confusion.
“What kind of name…” you whispered.
You flipped it over. On the back, smaller words were printed beneath a tiny illustration of a spark.
“Spark the middle and split in half.”
You read the sentence quietly under your breath, still staring at the strange little object in confusion.
Where did this even come from?
Before you could think any harder about it, the loud sound of the doorbell echoed throughout the house.
You jumped slightly.
Your eyes flicked toward the bedroom door before quickly shoving the mysterious box into your pocket without another thought.
Then, taking one steadying breath, you got up and made your way downstairs to answer the door.
The loud ringing of the doorbell echoed through the house just as you reached the bottom of the stairs.
Your stomach twisted instantly.
They’re here.
You quickly wiped under your eyes one last time just in case there were traces of tears left behind before making your way to the front door. Taking a small breath to steady yourself, you opened it.
“Heeeyyy!” Hani was the first person you saw, leaning dramatically against the doorframe like she was posing for a magazine cover instead of standing on your porch. Her glossy pink lips stretched into a grin while she swung her very pink car keys around her finger.
Behind her stood the rest of your friends bundled in hoodies and jackets against the cool October air.
“Hi,” you laughed softly despite yourself.
Everyone greeted you at once while stepping toward the doorway.
“Wow,” you said dryly, looking past Hani toward the curb. “I see you finally decided to drive your car.”
Parked proudly in front of your house sat Hani’s pink Volkswagen Beetle convertible.
The thing looked ridiculously out of place on your quiet street, shiny under the dim glow of the streetlights.
Hani immediately gasped dramatically, clutching her chest. “That’s my baby,” she defended while stepping inside. “She only comes out for short visits.”
From behind her, Ronnie adjusted his glasses before speaking in the most matter of fact tone possible.
“Or,” he corrected, “the car you own was discontinued because of its lack of practicality, but you still drive it because it’s” he lifted his fingers into air quotes. “just so cute.”
Hani whipped around immediately. “You don’t even have a license.”
Ronnie shrugged without a single ounce of shame. “I’m seventeen and already in college.”
“That literally has nothing to do with driving.”
“It means statistically I’m smarter than you.”
“You are SO annoying.”
“Okay, okay,” Juniper interrupted loudly while brushing past both of them into the house. “Enough. Nobody cares this much about your stupid car.”
Hani gasped again, offended all over. “Wow.”
Junie mocked the gasp instantly, dramatically placing a hand over her own chest.
You rolled your eyes while closing the front door behind everyone, warmth immediately settling back over the house now that it was filled with noise again.
The group naturally migrated toward the kitchen where the snacks and drinks sat spread across the counter. Nara immediately grabbed a bag of chips before you could even offer them.
“See?” Nara said around a mouthful. “This is why her house is superior.”
“Animals,” you muttered affectionately.
Junie suddenly spun toward you with a grin that immediately made you nervous. “Alright,” she announced, pointing at you dramatically. “Let’s focus on getting our girl Y/N here the man of her dreams.”
Your entire body immediately tensed. “Junie—”
She ignored you completely, patting your back while you wanted nothing more than for the floor to open and swallow you whole.
“So,” she continued excitedly, “what does he already know about you?”
Suddenly everyone was looking at you.
You blinked awkwardly. “Um…”
You fidgeted with your finger while you thought. “Well…” you started quietly, “he knows I’m into older music. Like eighties rock mostly.”
Nara nodded approvingly.
“He knows I don’t really have a favorite fast food place,” you continued slowly, “but he knows I love McDonald’s fries, so whenever we go somewhere he always stops there first before going somewhere else.”
Your friends exchanged a look immediately.
You missed it entirely. “He knows I like sketching,” you added. “Even though I’m not really good at it.”
“Yes you are,” Ronnie corrected automatically.
You ignored him. “And he knows where to find me at school if I’m not in class.” A tiny smile appeared on your face without realizing it. “Usually the library or under that willow tree by the football field.”
You paused briefly, still thinking. “He knows—”
“Okay, okay, WE GET IT,” Junie cut in dramatically, throwing her hands up. “Love that for you.”
Your face warmed instantly. “What?” you defended. “You asked.”
“And now I’m asking what you know about him,” she shot back immediately.
You sighed softly, leaning back against the kitchen counter while thinking. “Okay… well…”
You looked down at your hands while speaking. “He likes wearing black and white a lot. Those are some of his favorite colors.” You paused. “Pink too, actually.”
Hani looked delighted by that information for some reason.
“He has a really random music taste,” you continued. “Like… British pop. Specifically Blur.”
Nara snorted. “That is incredibly specific.”
“One time he told me he sleeps with his eyes open,” you said, laughing quietly at the memory. “He thought I’d think it was weird, but I told him I do the same thing.”
A small smile lingered on your face for a second too long before you continued. “He also really likes lollipops.”
“Lollipops?” Junie repeated.
You nodded. “His favorite flavor’s mango.”
You were only met with silence.
You finally looked up from your hands only to freeze slightly. Your friends were staring at you. Not teasing this time. Slightly shocked actually.
Because those weren’t big obvious details about James. Those were tiny things. Random things. The kind of details people only remembered when they paid attention to someone constantly.
“What?” you asked cautiously.
Hani blinked slowly. “Girl…”
“You remember way too much about that man,” Nara said.
“I do not.”
“You remembered his favorite lollipop flavor,” Ronnie pointed out.
Your mouth opened immediately to defend yourself but before you could say anything else, the doorbell rang loudly through the house again.
Everyone went silent for half a second.
Then Junie’s eyes widened dramatically. “Oh my god,” she whisper screamed. “Your boyfriend’s here.”
“He is NOT my boyfriend.”
The second time the doorbell rang, complete chaos broke loose.
Hani practically shoved herself off the kitchen counter while Juniper yelled, “MOVE BITCH.”
Meanwhile Ronnie calmly grabbed a soda from the fridge like none of this concerned him whatsoever.
“You guys are insane,” he muttered while walking toward the couch.
“Shut up!” Hani called back immediately.
Ronnie only shook his head, already settling onto the couch with the expression of someone witnessing a social experiment in real time.
By the time you reached the front hallway, the three girls were already crowded around the door like excited children. You ended up stuck slightly behind them, barely able to see over Junie’s shoulder.
Nara made it there first, immediately yanking the door open.
Cold evening air rushed inside along with the sound of distant cars passing down the street.
“Oh hey boys,” Nara greeted dramatically, leaning against the doorway. “Glad you could come.”
Outside stood the rest of James’s group.
Martin entered first, giving Nara a quick nod before spotting you standing behind everyone else. His face lit up instantly.
“There she is,” he said casually.
You laughed softly as he walked over and dabbed you up like always before heading farther into the house.
Right behind him came Juhoon, quieter as usual but smiling the second he saw you.
“What’s up?” he greeted.
“Hi.”
He returned the same quick greeting gesture Martin gave you before following him toward the kitchen where the snacks had already become the center of attention.
Then came Keonho and Sean together like always.
When you first met them months ago, you genuinely thought they looked weirdly alike. Same height. Similar dark hair. Similar style. Enough that you used to mix them up constantly in your head.
Now, though? They looked nothing alike to you anymore.
Keonho moved louder, talked louder, smiled wider. Sean was calmer, quieter, but still could be chaotic. It was weird how easily your brain separated people once they stopped being strangers.
“There’s the host,” Sean grinned dramatically the second he saw you.
Both him and Keonho went in for quick hugs at the same time before immediately wandering toward the kitchen the second they spotted food. Martin and Juhoon were already there tearing into the snacks like they hadn’t eaten in weeks.
Which left one person still standing outside.
James.
And unfortunately for your sanity, the second your eyes landed on him, everything suddenly felt slower.
You noticed stupid things first.
The way his hands sat tucked into the pockets of his jacket while he walked up the driveway. The soft crunch of leaves underneath his shoes. The faint cool air following him inside when he stepped through the doorway.
Your heart started beating harder instantly.
James glanced around the entryway for a second before pulling his jacket off casually, hanging it neatly on the coat rack beside the door.
Nara greeted him first. “Took you long enough.”
“Traffic,” he answered easily.
Then he looked over at you. And just like always, your stomach twisted painfully in the most embarrassing way possible.
James walked farther inside slowly, eyes briefly wandering around your house. Not in a judgmental way. More curious than anything.
“Nice place,” he said casually. Then one eyebrow lifted slightly while a teasing smile pulled at his mouth. “How come you never invited me over before?”
Your face warmed immediately.
Because if only he knew how many times you’d thought about inviting him over before immediately talking yourself out of it.
You crossed your arms slightly, trying to play it off. “Because my mom or my brother is usually home,” you admitted. “And they’d start asking questions.
James nodded instantly in understanding. “Ah,” he laughed softly. “Yeah, that’s fair.”
The small smile on his face stayed as he looked around again. “Well,” he said, “your house looks lovely.”
Something about hearing him compliment your home made your chest ache a little. “Thanks,” you answered quietly.
For a second neither of you moved.
Then voices erupted loudly from the kitchen.
“YO WHO ATE ALL THE TAKIS?” Sean yelled.
“It was literally you!” Hani shouted back.
James snorted under his breath before finally looking away from you. “Sounds like they’re already destroying the place.”
You laughed softly. “Yeah. Pretty much.”
He smiled one last time before heading toward the kitchen where the others were already arguing over snacks.
And you stayed standing there for a second longer than necessary, trying very hard to ignore the way your heart still hadn’t calmed down.
By the time everyone finally started leaving, it was a little after midnight.
The house looked more lived in now. Empty soda cans scattered across the coffee table, chip bags crumpled on the counter, blankets half falling off the couch from everyone fighting over space during the movies. The air still smelled faintly like popcorn, pizza, and the sugary mix of candy everyone had destroyed throughout the night.
Most of the night had been spent crowded around your brother’s PlayStation in the living room, everyone yelling over each other while switching between games. Keonho and Junie were by far the loudest players in existence, both screaming like their lives depended on every match while Sean sat beside them looking mildly exhausted. Nara had beaten everyone at almost every game and shoving it in their faces.
“I WON YOU LOST I WON YOU LOST” Nara had said jumping all over the couch after winning again. “Raw talent baby.”
“You’re a loser,” Sean replied immediately.
At some point the games turned into movies.
The system for choosing them ended up being everyone writing movie titles down on scraps of paper before tossing them into a bowl. The first two picked would be what the group watched.
The first movie ended up being The Hangover. Martin’s choice. Which honestly explained a lot about Martin as a person.
The entire living room had dissolved into chaos during it. Keonho laughed loud enough to nearly choke multiple times, Junie almost fell off the couch at one point, and even James had laughed harder than you’d seen him laugh in a while.
Then came the second movie. Your choice.
Stand by Me.
And somehow not a single one of them had seen it before. Which genuinely offended you a little.
“You people have no culture,” you’d muttered while setting the movie up.
“It came out before I was born,” Nara defended.
“You've literally seen Back to the Future that’s not an excuse.”
Still, watching everyone slowly get invested in the movie ended up being weirdly satisfying.
Especially because halfway through, the entire room suddenly realized something horrifying.
Ronnie looked exactly like Chris.
“You guys see it too, right?” Hani whispered at one point.
“Oh my god,” Martin breathed.
Ronnie looked genuinely unsettled afterward. “Stop staring at me.”
“It’s the eyes,” Sean said immediately.
“No, it’s the hair.”
“No, it’s literally his whole face.”
By the end of the movie, even Ronnie looked mildly disturbed by the comparison.
After everything finished, everyone actually helped clean up without you even asking.
The girls cleaned the living room while the boys handled the kitchen, though Sean mostly just stole leftover chips while pretending to help. Music played quietly from someone’s phone while everyone moved around talking over each other, the atmosphere warm and easy in the way only late nights with friends could feel.
Eventually, though, people started getting tired. One by one jackets were pulled back on, shoes were found, and goodbyes started echoing through the house.
Outside, the October air had gotten colder, your breath faintly visible under the porch light as everyone piled toward the driveway.
Hani practically dragged Ronnie toward her pink Beetle while Junie yelled something about stopping for fries before they disappeared down the street with Nara.
That left you standing on the porch with James and the others.
You wrapped your arms around yourself slightly against the cold while watching them pile into James’s car parked along the curb.
For a second everything seemed normal. Then the engine sputtered and died.
James frowned slightly behind the wheel before trying again.
Nothing.
Another failed turn of the engine echoed through the quiet street. He sighed softly under his breath.
Your brows furrowed immediately as you walked closer down the driveway. “Is everything okay?” you asked.
James leaned back against the seat with mild frustration written across his face before shaking his head. “No. I don’t know what’s wrong with it.” He glanced toward the dashboard. “It was literally working fine this morning.”
The boys started throwing out useless suggestions immediately.
“Hit it,” Sean suggested.
“That’s not how cars work,” Martin voices.
“It works in movies.”
You thought for a second before speaking carefully. “That’s weird…”
James glanced back toward you through the open window.
“What if,” you started slowly, “I just drive you guys home?”
He blinked.
“You could leave the car here tonight and call somebody tomorrow to pick it up or look at it.”
James stared ahead for a second, clearly thinking it over before finally nodding. “Yeah,” he agreed, undoing his seatbelt. “Okay. That works.”
He climbed out of the car while the others followed behind him.
“I’ll go grab my keys,” you said quickly. You hurried back into the house before anyone could notice how weirdly fast your heart was beating again.
The drive ended up longer than expected. Mostly because everyone refused to shut up.
Keonho spent half the ride arguing with Sean about God knows what. Martin nearly fell asleep in the backseat. Juhoon somehow managed to look tired and judgmental simultaneously.
Eventually, though, one by one the car emptied. Until it was just you and James. The quiet afterward felt strange.
Streetlights blurred softly across the windshield while you drove through mostly empty roads toward his neighborhood. The radio played quietly in the background, low enough that neither of you really paid attention to it.
Then finally, your car rolled to a stop in front of his house. For a moment neither of you moved.
James turned slightly in his seat to look at you. “Thanks,” he said softly. “For driving all of us home.”
You looked back at him, offering a small smile. “No problem.” You shrugged lightly. “What are friends for, right?”
He laughed quietly at that and nodded once. “Fair point.” Then he reached for the door handle.
Your chest tightened immediately. Because if you didn’t say something now, you probably never would. “Hey, James?”
He paused halfway out of the car before turning back toward you. “Yeah?”
Your heart started pounding so hard it hurt.
This was it. You could ask him. Right now.
You swallowed hard. “I—um—are you…” The words got stuck. Fear hit instantly. Fast and familiar and awful.
What if he looked uncomfortable? What if things got weird after this? What if he rejected you and suddenly everything between you changed forever?
You shook your head quickly. “Uh, never mind,” you mumbled. “Have a goodnight.”
James looked at you for a second longer before nodding slowly. “Goodnight, Y/N." Then he stepped out of the car, closing the door softly behind him.
You watched him walk toward his front porch, keys jangling quietly in his hand.
And only once he disappeared inside did you finally look away, dropping your forehead briefly against the steering wheel with a frustrated groan.
You were so close to finally asking him out. But of course fear won again.
Like always.
You sighed heavily before leaning back in your seat. Then suddenly you remembered the strange object still sitting in your pocket.
Your hand reached inside your sweats, pulling the small red and white box back out. “One Wish Willow,” you muttered quietly, staring at it again beneath the dim glow of the dashboard lights.
The whole thing was ridiculous.
There was no way some weird mystery box randomly found under your pillow was magical.
Still. You stared at it for another second before sighing. “Why the fuck not.”
You reached toward the center compartment, pulling out a lighter Junie had left behind weeks ago. Her backup lighter, apparently.
With a flick a small flame appeared. You held it carefully beneath the center of the strange little object.
“I wish…” you whispered, feeling stupid immediately. But you said it anyway. “I wish Zhao Yufan loved me more than anyone else in the entire world.”
The words hung in the silence of the car. Then, feeling ridiculous, you snapped the object cleanly in half. Nothing happened. No glow. No magic. No dramatic sound effect.Just silence.
You stared at the broken pieces for a second before laughing quietly at yourself. “Yeah. Okay.”
You tossed both the lighter and the broken object back into the compartment before shutting it closed.
Of course it didn’t work. What were you even expecting?
You started the car again And nearly jumped out of your skin when a knock suddenly hit the passenger window.
Your heart lurched violently.
James stood outside the car.
You hurriedly rolled the window down slightly, confused. “Did you forget something?” you asked.
But the second he looked at you, something felt off. Not scary. Just different.
His expression looked softer somehow. More focused. Like the second he came back outside, you were the only thing he noticed.
Then he smiled. “Yeah,” he said quietly. “Kinda.”
Your stomach tightened nervously.
James leaned slightly closer to the window. “I was wondering if maybe you wanted to go on a date tomorrow?”
Your entire brain stopped functioning. “What?”
He laughed softly. “Tomorrow,” he repeated. “Do you wanna go out with me?”
Your heart physically stuttered in your chest. “T-Tomorrow?”
He nodded once.
“Uh…” Your thoughts spiraled instantly.
This couldn’t be real. There was no way.
“Yeah,” you answered quickly before he could change his mind. “Yeah, sure.”
James smiled immediately. “Cool,” he said. “I’ll text you later with everything then.”
You nodded numbly. “Okay.”
Then he stepped back from the window and started walking toward his house again. But this time he didn’t immediately go inside. Instead he stopped near the front door, waiting there while your car remained parked in front of the curb. Waiting for you to leave safely first.
You slowly rolled the window back up, your hands gripping the steering wheel tightly now. Then you pulled away from the curb. And the entire drive home only one thought repeated over and over in your head.
You were pulled out of sleep by a sharp nudge to your ribs, just enough to drag you halfway into consciousness but not enough to fully wake you.
You shifted slightly, groaning under your breath, your body still heavy with exhaustion. “Five more minutes,” you mumbled, your voice thick with sleep.
That only earned you a harder nudge.
You let out a louder groan this time, your eyes finally opening as you blinked up at the light. Keonho stood over you, his foot still resting against your side where he had been nudging you.
You immediately shoved it off.
He let out a quiet, amused chuckle, like your reaction was expected, before motioning with his head for you to get up.
You pushed yourself up slowly, your muscles protesting as you reached for your bag and slung it over your shoulder. Your eyes were still adjusting, your mind catching up to the fact that it was morning again.
“Where to?” you asked, your voice quieter now but still rough.
Keonho didn’t answer right away. Instead, he lifted his hand and pointed upward. “You see that?”
You followed where he was pointing, squinting slightly at the sky before looking back at him, confused. “…no?”
He sighed, running a hand through his hair.
“If you look closer, there’s a shine,” he said. “The arena is getting smaller. Instead of making us walk forever and feel like we’re getting nowhere… they closed us in.”
Your brows furrowed as you turned your gaze back to the sky, narrowing your eyes more carefully this time.
You saw it. A faint shimmer. Like something invisible was closing in around the edges of everything.
Your stomach dropped slightly. “So they’re caging us like animals,” you said quietly.
Keonho hummed in agreement.
You let out a slow breath, your grip tightening slightly on your bag strap. “They want a massacre,” you whispered, more to yourself than him.
“Yeah,” Keonho said under his breath, matching your tone.
You stood there for a second, your thoughts racing as everything started to click into place.
“So that means…”
“All the remaining tributes are in the city,” Keonho finished for you.
The weight of that settled heavily in your chest. You exhaled slowly. “So we fight?”
Keonho tilted his head slightly, uncertain. “Or hide and wait it out.”
You looked at him, your expression tightening. “What’s that gonna do?” you asked. “Sitting here doing nothing just keeps us in the arena longer.”
You hesitated for a moment, your thoughts shifting into something sharper, something more desperate. “What if we hunt them?” The words left your mouth before you could fully think them through.
Keonho stared at you like he hadn’t heard you right. “…what?”
You turned slightly away from him, uncomfortable under his gaze. “I just mean… instead of waiting for them to find us, we—”
“No, I know what you mean,” he cut in, standing up quickly. “You want to do it like a hunter to a deer. They don’t see it coming.”
You shook your head slightly. “Well, maybe not exac—”
“No,” he cut you off again, sharper this time, frustration rising in his voice. “That’s exactly what you want.”
He stepped back slightly, his chest rising and falling faster now. “What are you gonna do?” he continued. “Kill them all until it’s just you and me?”
The words hit harder than you expected.
You looked at him, concern replacing your earlier tension. Something was off. “Keonho—”
“Was this your plan the whole time?” he pushed, his voice louder now, almost shaking. “To kill everyone… and me?”
Your stomach dropped.
“Huh?” he added, his voice cracking slightly. “Because you made some stupid promise?”
He was yelling now. And only then did you really see it.
The dark circles under his eyes. The way his hands were slightly shaking. The sweat on his skin even though the morning air was still cool.
He hadn’t slept. Not really.
“Keonho…” you said softly, taking a cautious step closer.
He kept going, like he couldn’t stop. “Ke—KE!” you raised your voice finally, cutting through his spiral.
He froze. Silence fell between you again, heavy and tense.
His eyes were glossy, like he was holding something back, but he forced it down, swallowing hard.
“Hey,” you said more gently now, your voice softening as you stepped closer. “Ke… what’s wrong?”
You reached out carefully, your hand moving toward his arm.
He flinched. The movement was small, but it hit harder than anything he had said.
“Nothing,” he muttered, his voice quieter now, shaking his head like he could brush it all off.
You didn’t believe him. Not for a second.
“Let’s just keep moving,” he added quickly, adjusting his bag over his shoulder. “I was loud. People are gonna know someone was here.”
He didn’t look at you as he said it. He just turned and started walking away from the collapsed bridge.
Leaving you standing there for a second longer, your concern lingering as you watched him go.
“Keonho, can you slow down?” you called after him, your voice low but strained as you tried to keep up but he didn’t answer.
Ever since the argument, he had been walking ahead of you, putting distance between the two of you like he didn’t trust himself to be close right now. His shoulders were tense, his movements sharp, like every step had too much weight behind it.
Without warning, he turned and walked straight into one of the smaller buildings along the edge of the city. You followed after him, already uneasy.
The moment you stepped inside, smells hit you. Rotten. Damp. Thick with mildew and something sour that had been sitting for far too long.
It was a grocery store once, or at least it looked like one. Shelves were knocked over, some still half-standing but stripped bare. Others held rotting food that had long since gone moldy, the decay spreading across the floor in dark patches. Water leaked from somewhere in the ceiling, dripping steadily and pooling in uneven spots across the tile.
The lights above flickered weakly, some hanging loose from exposed wiring, casting the entire place in an unstable glow that made shadows twitch and shift in the corners.
“Dude… why this building?” you muttered, your face scrunching as you tried to breathe through the smell.
Keonho didn’t respond. He just kept walking, scanning the space like he was looking for something, or maybe just trying to avoid looking at you.
You sighed, frustration creeping in as you followed him deeper toward the back of the store.
“Look…” you started, lowering your voice. “It was just a thought. An idea at most. I wasn’t actually planning on doing it.”
That made him stop. His back was still to you, his shoulders rising slightly as he took a breath. “The fact you thought of it was enough,” he said quietly.
Then he kept walking. Your jaw tightened. You moved faster this time, closing the distance between you and grabbing his arm to stop him, forcing him to turn toward you.
“You said it yourself,” you shot back. “‘Everything is dangerous. We just have to be careful and fight.’”
He shook his head immediately, pulling his arm out of your grip. “Yeah. Fight. Not kill,” he said, his voice sharper now. “I don’t want to kill, y/n. I’ll knock them out and that’s it.”
You stared at him, tilting your head slightly. “Then you’ll die, Ke.”
He didn’t answer. He just turned away from you again, muttering something under his breath that you couldn’t quite catch.
But you noticed everything else. The way his pace started to falter. The slight limp that slipped in before he corrected it like nothing happened. The way his breathing stayed just a little too uneven.
He thought you didn’t see it.
But you did.
You followed him into the back area of the store, stepping carefully over patches of molded food and debris as the air grew colder and darker.
Keonho clicked on his flashlight again, the beam cutting through the narrow hallway ahead.
It wasn’t large. Three doors at most. Two on the right, one on the left.
He moved forward cautiously, reaching for the first door on the right and turning the knob.
Locked.
He moved on without a word. You were still looking back at the locked door when you walked straight into him, not realizing he had stopped.
“Keonho?” you said, stepping around him to see his face.
He wasn’t moving.
His expression… was different.
Confused. Soft. Vulnerable in a way you hadn’t seen before.
His eyes were slightly watery, unfocused like he was listening to something you couldn’t hear.
“Keonho, what’s wrong?” you asked, your voice immediately softening.
He turned toward you slowly, like he wasn’t fully present. “You don’t hear that?” he asked.
Your stomach dropped. Before you could even respond the last door on the right burst open. It slammed hard against the wall, the sound echoing through the hallway like a gunshot.
The darkness inside it stretched out like it was waiting.
Inviting.
Keonho stepped forward immediately.
You grabbed his arm. “Woah! what are you doing?”
He shoved you off. Not hard, but enough to send you stumbling back into the wall. “It’s my mom,” he said, his voice distant, his eyes locked on the open doorway.
Your chest tightened instantly. “Ke,” you warned, your voice firm now. “Whatever you’re hearing… that’s not your mom.”
His lips trembled slightly, uncertainty flickering across his face. He shook his head, like he didn’t want to believe you but couldn’t fully ignore it either.
You stepped forward again, cupping his face with both hands, forcing him to look at you.
“Listen to me,” you said softly, wiping at the tears that had slipped from his eyes. “You don’t want to know what’s in there. We need to go. Now. Okay?”
He sniffled, nodding weakly. But before either of you could move avoice cut through the moment.
“Yeah… you’re not going anywhere.”
You turned sharply.
Margo. District two
You remember her Curly black hair, dark skin, that same cold expression from training. She leaned casually, a smirk pulling at her lips, a crossbow resting easily in her hands.
“Like it?” she asked, nodding toward the weapon when she caught you looking. “Gift from the Capitol.”
Her eyes flicked over the two of you, unimpressed. “Looks like no one’s bid on you yet,” she added with a dark chuckle.
Your expression hardened.
“I thought you would’ve lasted longer, y/n,” she said, lifting the crossbow slightly. “I’ll be nice and make this quick.” She adjusted her stance.
But something in Keonho snapped. Before you could even react, he charged forward, slamming into her.
The impact knocked her back hard, her crossbow flying from her hands and skidding across the floor—right toward you.
Keonho had her pinned, his face twisted with something you hadn’t seen before. Pure anger. His chest rose and fell rapidly, his control gone.
You moved instinctively toward the crossbow but the locked door behind you opened with a click.
“Eh eh… I wouldn’t do that.”
You froze. Closing your eyes for half a second, you turned slowly.
Sage, Cole, and Eli. All armed.
Eli smirked, tightening his grip on his machete. “I told you I’d kill you,” he said.
You tilted your head slightly, letting out a short, humorless laugh. “No,” you corrected. “You said you were gonna kill me on the first day… but Eli, I’m still here.”
His expression darkened instantly, his jaw clenching. “I’ll kill you,” he snapped.
You didn’t flinch. “We’ll see about that.”
He started forward, but Cole stopped him, an arm blocking his path. “Not yet,” Cole said calmly, his eyes never leaving you.
Then he nodded toward Keonho. “Get him.”
Your heart jumped. “Ke stop,” you called out.
He hesitated, but stood up. She scrambled to her feet, grabbing her crossbow and aiming it back at both of you immediately.
Cole spoke again, voice steady. “Drop your bags. Weapons too.”
You and Keonho exchanged a glance. Then did as told. Your bags hit the floor.
“Kick them over.” You both listened.
Sage moved first, grabbing Keonho’s. Cole took yours. Margo kept the crossbow trained on you both, a warning clear in her stance.
A low chuckle passed between them. They liked having the upper hand.
Their taunting was cut off when a deep guttural screech rings out.
Every single person in the room froze. Slowly, all eyes turned toward the open door at the end of the hallway.
The one that had opened on its own.
Sage was the first to speak, her voice tight with unease. “Did you open that door?!”
You shook your head immediately, your eyes flicking briefly to Keonho. His head was lowered, his breathing shallow again, like he was trying to steady himself.
“No,” you said. “It opened by itself.”
Sage leaned toward Cole, whispering something quickly in his ear. Whatever she said it changed everything.
Cole’s posture stiffened. “We have what we need,” he said quickly. “Leave them.”
Eli’s grip tightened on his machete. Margo’s finger hovered near the trigger. Neither of them liked that order.
Eli let out a sharp, irritated huff before turning away, clearly annoyed by Cole’s command. He walked past them, his grip tight on the machete as he moved to regroup with his district partner.
Margo didn’t follow right away. She kept her crossbow trained on you and Keonho, her stance steady, eyes locked and ready, like she didn’t trust you not to try something even now.
Cole lingered just a second longer, lowering his sword slightly but not fully, his attention still fixed on you as if weighing whether you were worth finishing off anyway. Behind him, Sage moved past quickly, avoiding your gaze entirely, her steps faster than before, like she wanted out of this situation as soon as possible.
But your focus wasn’t on them anymore.
It shifted past Cole. There was something in the hallway behind him. At first it was just a shape, something half-hidden in the dim light, but then it moved.
Its posture uneven, its head twitching slowly from side to side like it was listening, smelling, searching.
You knew that movement.
Your chest tightened instantly. But you weren’t the only one who noticed.
“Cole, behind you!” Margo called out a little too loud.
The creature’s head snapped in her direction, its body tensing for a split second before it let out a guttural, piercing yell that echoed through the hallway. Then it charged straight toward all of you.
Cole turned, panic flashing across his face as he started to move but you were faster. You shoved him hard.
He fell, hitting the ground with a grunt just as the creature closed the distance.
Sage didn’t hesitate and ran.
You didn’t know if she hadn’t fully seen what was coming or if she had and chose to save herself anyway, but either way, she was gone.
Which left two. Margo and Eli.
You glanced at Keonho.He looked back at you. And in that moment, you both understood. A quick nod passed between you. Then you both moved.
You ran straight at them. You went for Margo. Keonho went for Eli.
You didn’t need to win. You just needed time. Enough to get away.
For a moment, it worked. The sudden movement caught them off guard, forcing them to react instead of attack. You let Keonho move slightly ahead, using his momentum as you followed close behind.
But something made you look back. And you immediately regretted it.
Cole was on the ground. The creature was on top of him. Clawing. Tearing. His scream filled the hallway, raw and panicked as he struggled beneath it, trying to push it off while it ripped into him without hesitation.
Eli turned instantly, running toward the creature, raising his machete to strike.
Margo didn’t. She stayed focused on you. Her crossbow snapped back up, aimed directly at your chest, her expression twisted with anger.
Your eyes widened.
Oh shit.
You tried to move.
The arrow drove into your shoulder with force, knocking the air from your lungs as a sharp grunt tore from your throat. Pain flared instantly, hot and blinding, but you didn’t stop.
You couldn’t. You kept running.
Keonho was still ahead of you, but only barely now. And something was wrong. His movements were slower. Unsteady.
“W-where to?” he struggled out, his voice uneven, his breathing rough. You saw him falter. Saw him almost fall.
You caught him before he could, throwing his arm over your shoulders as you forced both of you forward.
“I don’t know,” you said through clenched teeth, your shoulder screaming in pain. “But I’ll find somewhere.”
He let out a strained hum, clearly hurting but still trying to keep moving.
You dragged him with you, putting as much distance between you and the building as possible.
Then you cut around the back of it, changing direction to throw off anyone who might try to follow.
Every step felt heavier than the last. Your arm burned. His weight dragged against you.
The sounds behind you blurred together. Shouting, movement, something breaking, the sound ofthea cannon echoing across the arena, loud and final.
You froze for half a second as it rang out. But you didn’t look back. You couldn’t. You just tightened your grip on Keonho and kept moving.
The place you found wasn’t safe, not really, but it was something.
Two buildings had collapsed into each other at an angle, one leaning against the other just enough to create a narrow pocket of space beneath them. It formed a slanted shelter, half covered by broken concrete and rusted metal, shadows pooling thick in the corners where the light couldn’t quite reach.
You guided Keonho into the space, lowering him down carefully so his back rested against the more stable wall. You positioned yourself close, sitting slightly in front of him but angled so you could keep watch on both exposed sides. It wasn’t ideal, too many blind spots, too many ways something could slip up on you, but it gave you cover overhead and for now, that had to be enough.
Your eyes kept moving, scanning every few seconds, checking for any sign of movement.
Only once you were sure nothing was immediately coming did you reach for the arrow still lodged in your shoulder.
You clenched your jaw, gripping the shaft tightly before snapping it, breaking it off as cleanly as you could. The motion sent a sharp jolt of pain through your arm, but you swallowed it down, leaving the embedded piece inside you. There wasn’t time to deal with it properly.
You turned back to Keonho.
He was slumped against the wall, his head tilted back, eyes closed, breathing uneven and too heavy for someone just resting. Sweat clung to his skin, running down the side of his face in thin trails.
“Hey… hey,” you said softly, shifting closer to him. You placed a hand on his shoulder, feeling the heat radiating off him.
“Ke… what’s wrong?”
His eyes opened slowly, unfocused at first before settling on you. “I don’t feel so good, y/n,” he murmured, his voice weaker than you had ever heard it.
Your chest tightened immediately. “What do you mean?” you asked, your hands moving to grip his shoulders, trying to keep his attention on you.
He gently pushed your hands away, his movements sluggish as he reached down and tugged at the hem of his pant leg.He pulled it up just enough for you to see.
A deep, raw, angry looking scratch.
Your stomach dropped.
He let the fabric fall back into place. “It was from those things,” he said, his voice uneven. “Back in that hallway… at the mall. I didn’t think— I didn’t know it would… do this.”
He let out a small laugh.
You knew it wasn't real. You knew it was forced, like he was trying to make it lighter than it was, but it only made it worse.
“After yesterday,” he continued, “I started feeling weak sometimes… or… or—”
“Angry?” you finished quietly.
He nodded. Then he turned slightly and coughed. Something dark hit the ground beside him.
Black and thick.
Your breath caught. You forced yourself not to react, not to let it show, even as your chest tightened painfully.
“I can’t control it,” he said, his eyes watering. “I don’t wanna keep going, y/n… it hurts.” His voice cracked.
He squeezed his eyes shut, breathing in sharply like he was trying to fight through it. “And the rage,” he added, his voice strained, “it’s getting worse… faster.”
He coughed again more black spilling onto the ground. “Please… y/n, please,” he begged.
You shook your head immediately, tears already slipping down your face. "I don’t— I don’t—”
He reached into his pocket, his hand shaking slightly as he pulled something out. A switchblade.
Your brows furrowed. "How—?”
“I got it off one of them,” he said quickly. “The curly haired one… the one who died.”
You nodded faintly, though the detail barely registered.
He held the blade out toward you. “Please… just end it.”
Your head shook harder, your face twisting as more tears fell. "I can’t,” you said, your voice breaking.
He let out a strained grunt, his body tensing with pain. “Yes… yes you can.”
You pulled your hands away from him and stood up abruptly, your breathing uneven, trembling. "You can’t go, Ke,” you said, your voice cracking. “Not you. Please… don’t leave me alone out here.”
You pressed a hand to your chest, like it might steady the ache building there. You turned away from him, unable to look any longer. Because a part of you already knew. And that part hurt more than anything. You stared up at the sky, forcing your breathing to slow, wiping your tears roughly with the back of your hand.
A shuffling sound comes from behind you.
You turned. Keonho was standing. He wasn’t facing you. One hand braced against the wall to keep himself upright, the other holding the switchblade, now open.
“Keonho?” His head twitched and he turned. And you wished he hadn’t.
The warm brown eyes you knew was gone, replaced with something darker, almost black, with red bleeding around the whites. Veins spread across his face, dark blue and purple, crawling beneath his skin. Black dripped from his mouth. A low, animalistic snarl escaped him.
Your hand flew up over your mouth, your breath catching in your throat. “Oh… Ke,” you whispered.
He lunged.
You reacted on instinct, grabbing him and forcing his momentum off to the side, sending him stumbling to the ground.
He hit hard, but immediately turned back toward you, something wild and unrecognizable in his expression as he let out a deep, guttural screech and charged again, blade still in hand.
This time, you didn’t dodge. You caught his arm. Your hand wrapped around his wrist, stopping the blade just inches from you. You grunted at the force behind it, your muscles straining as you held him back.
Then for a second he faltered. His strength weakened.His eyes flickered. “Please… y/n…”
Your expression softened instantly. “Ke—”
But it was gone just as fast. The snarl returned. The strength came back.
You let go and stumbled backward, but not fast enough. The blade sliced across your arm. Pain flared against the broken skin.
You sucked in a sharp breath, grabbing at him again, this time catching the blade itself. The metal bit into your palm, cutting into your skin as you tried to stop him. A small scream escaped you as the pain spread, your grip slipping.
He pushed forward again. You kicked out, catching his leg. He went down and you went with him.
The two of you tumbled across the ground, struggling against each other in a desperate, chaotic mess of movement.
When a soft wet sound emerges.
Both of you gasped and everything stopped. You pushed yourself up slightly, your heart racing as your eyes dropped. The blade was buried in him.
“No…” you whispered.
His chest wasn’t moving. His arms went slack at his sides. His eyes stared upward, unfocused now, one single tear slipping down his temple.
“No… no, no, no…” Your hands hovered in front of you, shaking, unsure where to even touch him.
Then you dropped to your knees beside him, scooting closer, your tears falling freely now. "No, Ke… please…”
Your voice broke as you reached for him, your hands finally gripping his shirt, like you could somehow pull him back. But you couldn’t.
And then a echo crosses the arena. The cannon. It confirmed what you already knew. The sound tore something out of you.
A scream ripped from your throat, raw and full of pain as you leaned over him, pulling his body into yours, holding onto him like if you didn’t, he’d disappear completely.
You stayed like that for a long time. Crying, breathing uneven, breaking quietly in the silence that followed.
Eventually, your sobs faded. Your breathing steadied. All that was left were soft sniffles and the ache in your chest. Your tears dried on your skin. Slowly, you let him go. You sat there, staring at him.
At his face, at what was left. And the longer you looked the more something inside you shifted. The grief didn’t disappear. It changed, it hardened.
Your expression went still. Your eyes darkened.Your jaw set.
Because now all you felt was anger. At the Capitol, at the arena, at everything that had led to this moment. And one thought settled in your mind, sharp and unshakable.
SYNOPSIS : james is the school's football star, but one hallway crash with the new girl throws him off completely. you don't know who he is, and he can't forget you. now the golden boy's got one mission, find the girl who didn't even look back.
PAIRING : football player!james x football player!reader
summary: you have a pretty normal life as a college student. Everything changes one spring break when you visit Korea to see some family and your sister decides to drag you along to stalk the famous pop-star Jeon Jungkook, part of the most famous group in the world — the one you despise— and the one you unexpectedly keep running into.
pairing: uni student! reader x idol! jeon jungkook
genre: rom-com. annoyances-to-lovers. fluff. trynna-be-comedy. a lil angst but not really. | reader is really annoying sometimes. jungkook can be an asshole but he’s still a cutie pie. reader has a sister lowkey sasaeng but thanks to her the story has a plot!! 97line mentioned/appearance. jimin and tae appearance in the first part!!
warning!— this story contains mature content. smut (fingering, dry humping, penetration, unprotected sex, dirty talk, creampie, etc). — third part NSFW
author’s note: third and last part is here!! this one is really everything to me (and literally has everything in it. fluff, comedy, drama, angst, guy yearning, smut, more fluff) i hope u enjoy this last part!! lmk what u think<33 i changed the smut last minute cuz i didn’t like the first scene i wrote so if u see any mistakes there no you don’t!!
word count: +22k words.
part one, part two, part three.
You despised Jeon Jungkook.
You couldn’t believe he got you in this horrible situation again. It was like he was only meant to ruin your day every time you ran into him. You thought for a second that maybe you were paying for some karma. Maybe your ancestors were really fucked up and you were paying for their mistakes. It had to be some curse like that.
You hadn’t talked with Jungkook for almost half an hour. You two just walked. Or, more accurately, you walked ahead fast enough to make a point, your grip tight around your bag, your shoulders stiff, your eyes fixed on absolutely nothing in front of you, while Jungkook followed a few steps behind, hands in his pockets now, quieter than before but not exactly calm either.
The ground wasn’t a real path anymore, just uneven dirt, patches of dry grass, small dips that made walking annoying, and after a few minutes it became very obvious that there was no road in sight, no clear direction, nothing that looked remotely familiar. But you still kept walking like you knew exactly where you were going… the dirt had to find and end soon, right? And also because stopping would mean admitting you had no idea where you were going. And you were not giving him that.
The problem was… it was getting ridiculous. The silence, the walking, the fact that nothing around you was changing, just more of the same empty, half-dry landscape that didn’t look like it led anywhere near a beach. The fact that you two were covered in mud like nothing new. You could feel it building again, that frustration sitting right under your skin, mixing with everything else— your phone, the car, your sister, him— and it made every step heavier than it needed to be.
God, your family was going to kill you.
Behind you, Jungkook let out a quiet breath for the tenth time. This time, he finally opened his mouth to talk. “Are you okay?” he asked.
You didn’t even turn around.
“I’m great,” you said flatly.
There was a second of silence before he continued. “You don’t sound great.”
“I said I’m great.”
He sped up slightly, closing the distance just enough to be closer to your side instead of behind you, though you didn’t look at him. “Why are you so grumpy?”
That made you stop, imediately. You turned to look at him, disbelief written all over your face. “…Are you fucking kidding me?”
He blinked, clearly not expecting that reaction. “I just asked—”
“No, I heard what you asked,” you cut him off, your voice sharper now, everything you had been holding back finally pushing through. “Why would I be so grumpy right now? Oh, I don’t k now! Maybe because I just sank my grandma’s car and now I have to pay her like a thousand dollars for it? Because I left my sister alone in the beach and she’s probably calling the police thinking I disappeared?! Are you stupid?”
He stared at you for a second. “Okay, yes. That makes sense but I’ll pay for everything—”
“Doesn’t matter anymore! First I need to go home so I can explain them everything, if my face is not in a poster all over the city by the time we get there…”
“Look, I know—”
“No, you don’t. I just want to go home, Jungkook. I want to go back, find my sister, explain why I disappeared for hours, explain what happened to my grandma’s car, and then deal with whatever comes after that and hopefully never see your ass again because you’re becoming a problem. That’s what I want right now.”
Jungkook stayed silent for a second but then something shifted in him. Your words were mean and full of anger, it just made him feel frustrated that you didn’t understand how he could feel about it. But it also made him anger that you didn’t want to understand that he was trying his best to be helpful with you.
You just made him angry.
“…Do you know what I want?” he said. You didn’t answer. “I want to have fun,” he continued, his tone different now, more cold and heavier underneath. “It’s the first time in years I don’t have people following me, no cameras, no one asking me questions every five seconds, no schedule, no staff telling me where to go or what to do. I’m just here with you.” You held his gaze. “And I was having a good time. Actually, I was having the best time I’ve had in a long time!” You frowned and he stared down at you. “And you’re fucking it up. I just want you to stop complaining for five minutes so I can actually enjoy it,” he finished.
That landed. You didn’t react immediately. You just stared at his him, something tightening in your chest. Jungkook didn’t say anything else, just looked at you for half a second longer before turning and walking past you, faster now, like he needed to move, like standing there was making it worse.
There was another small silence after that. Then you scoffed softly, shaking your head once.
“…Wow.” You watched him go. “So this is what it is with you, huh?” you called after him. He didn’t stop. You took a step forward, your voice rising just enough to reach him. “You don’t get what you want and you throw a tantrum?” That made him stop. He turned back to you slowly, jaw tightening slightly. “I bet everyone around you just follows you around fixing everything after that, right?” you continued, walking toward him now. “‘Oh, Jungkook, I’m so sorry, Jungkook, we didn’t mean to upset you, Jungkook’, ‘Sorry we hurt your grow-up-man feelings, let us give you exactly why you asked for, Jungkook’, ‘I’m sorry we didn’t treat you like the superstars you are’”. You shook your head. “What a brat you—”
He walked back toward you before you could finish, closing the distance quickly. “I’m a brat?” he repeated. You didn’t back down. “What about you?”
You frowned slightly. “What about me?”
“For the past two days I’ve done nothing but try to help you,” he said, his voice sharper now, frustration finally showing properly. “Even when you were acting like a bitch for no reason.”
You let out a small, incredulous laugh right in his face. “Oh, you’ve been nice?” you repeated. “Is that what you think this is?”
“Yes,” he said immediately.
You nodded slowly, stepping a little closer. “Okay. So when you hit me with a door, twice, that was you being nice?” you started, counting it off on your fingers. “When you dragged me to watch you perform instead of taking me to the hospital, that was nice? When you used me to escape paparazzis and got my grandma’s car literally swallowed by the earth… that was nice?” He didn’t interrupt. You tilted your head slightly, looking at him like you were genuinely trying to understand. “I honestly pity the people around you if that’s your version of ‘nice.’”
There wasn’t a pause. He immediately shot back, the truth getting too loud and his defensive side unable to stay back. “Please, you wish you were one of them.”
It came out sharper, meaner than anything else he had said to you. And being honest, it was the first you saw that part of him, the mean part, the part you had of him in your head. The part you he had shown you wrong… Because he wasn’t wrong about one thing, he had been nicer to you than you were ever to him. He had been helpful to you. And that kind of line he said didn’t need to be loud to land exactly where it was supposed to.
You looked at him, right in the eyes. And for a second, something in your expression changed completely.
“I’d rather get a fucking concussion,” you said firmly. And then you turned to walked past him. You didn’t look back and for a few steps, he didn’t move.
You could feel it, even without turning, the pause, the moment where he stayed there, letting everything settle, letting his own words catch up to him before you heard his footsteps again, getting closer and slower this time. Not matching your pace exactly, but not lagging behind either.
Jungkook just hated when he got like that. It had been so long since someone got him this mad. But he didn’t like that you had this idea of him about being a brat, about being this person who wasn’t real and didn’t know how life was outside his little bubble. He knew he could act like an idiot sometimes, he didn’t realize of some things or sometimes it took him more time than others to figure things out but he wasn’t a bad person. And he didn’t want you to see him as one.
Specially not after the day you both had. Because even if you were back to hating him, he had seen a part of you enjoying your time with him. He noticed the way you enjoyed spending time with him. He didn’t know why you were back to disliking him like it was a daily task you needed to keep going to breathe normally.
“Okay, okay. I went too far.” He said, walking by your side and looking at you even when you didn’t try to make an effort to look at him. “There’s just one thing I don’t understand,” he said after a moment. You didn’t answer. “When we were driving earlier,” he continued, his tone different now, less sharp, more… confused and soft than anything else. “I thought you liked me.”
You let out a quiet breath, not slowing down. “Well, you thought wrong.”
“That doesn’t make sense.”
“What doesn’t make sense?”
He walked a little faster, moving slightly ahead of you now, turning his head just enough to look at you while still walking. “It doesn’t make sense that you are suddenly back to not liking me,” he insisted. “You were fine. We were fine. We were talking, laughing—”
“That doesn’t mean anything. I can enjoy time with people I find annoying.”
“I’m sure it means something,” he ignored your last comment.
“It doesn’t.”
He frowned slightly. “Then what is it?” You didn’t answer. “I know this wasn’t the best way to end the day but why are you acting like I’m the most annoying person again?. It’s like you just turned the switch back on. Just because you don’t want to deal with admitting to yourself that you like me even after all this,” he pressed. “Tell me why.”
“Please, don’t flutter yourself.” You rolled your eyes.
“Tell me why you don’t like me then.”
“I simply don’t like you.”
“That’s not an answer.”
You exhaled sharply. “Not everyone has to like you, Jungkook.”
“I know that,” he said. “But we were fine earlier—”
“I was fine because we were just talking.”
“So what changed?”
“Nothing changed.”
“Something had to.”
You shook your head, refusing to look at him. “I just don’t like you. Don’t try to make it deep.”
“Enough with that. Some things are deep, okay?.”
“Well, this is not. I just don’t like you. You’re annoying, you get me in trouble—”
He stopped walking forward, but he didn’t stop moving. Because he was still facing you. Walking backwards now. Trying to keep eye contact, trying to to get a better answer. “You’re lying,” he said simply.
“I’m not.”
“You are.”
“I’m not.”
“Then tell me—”
“Why do you care?” you snapped.
“Because I like you”
That made you stopped in your tracks, looking at him confused. He opened his mouth to continue but before he could say something he just fell back and disappeared.
He was suddenly gone.
What the hell?!
You blinked scared, “…What the—” A splash of water echoed. “—the fuck?!”
You rushed forward instinctively, only to stop short at the edge, a small waterfall that Jungkook fell into. Enough to hide the drop just long enough for it to be a surprise. You looked up to see the beautiful water falling in the background between some rocks before quickly staring down again to see if Jungkook was okay.
He was there in the water looking just as shocked. “Uhm…”
“Oh my God, are you okay?!” you said, leaning forward to help him. He reached up and grabbed your arm before roughly pulling you into the water with him. “Jungkook—!” The water hit you cold, fast enough to steal the air from your lungs for a second, your hands scrambling instinctively as you came back up. “I can’t swim!” you shouted immediately.
His head snapped toward you, panic flashing across his face. “What?!”
“I can’t swim!”
He moved instantly, reaching for you, trying to grab your arm to pull you closer. “Okay, okay. Relax, I got you, just give me your hand and hold on—”
You splashed him an absurdly amount of water right into his face, making him choke a little bit before he started coughing. He stared at you deadpan when he finished his almost-dying act and you started laughing, you pushed slightly away from him while you brushed your wet hair out of your face.
“Gotcha.”
He stared at you longer. “…Oh, you think that’s funny?.”
You nodded, still smiling. He imitated your smile before splashing water at you, really hard. “Hey!” You laughed again, immediately splashing him back. “That’s not fair!”
“You lied!”
“You deserved it!”
“I didn’t!”
“You pulled me!”
The argument didn’t stop, it just changed. Turned into something lighter, messier, the tension from before dissolving into something that didn’t need words anymore, just movement, splashes, half-laughing protests that didn’t mean anything.
For a moment everything else disappeared. The car, the phones, the fight, the consequences. Right in that moment it was just water, laughter, and you two…. And Jungkook couldn’t enjoy that more.
——————————
The evening eventually settled.
Your laughter fading into softer breaths, the splashing turning into small ripples that disappeared as quickly as they formed, until all that was left was the quiet sound of the waterfall in front of you and the distant hum of nothing in particular. You both ended up closer to the edge, where the ground was dry enough to sit without slipping, your clothes still damp, your hair a mess, but neither of you caring enough to fix it properly.
You leaned back on your hands, legs stretched out in front of you, staring at the sky as it shifted colors slowly, the light almost dark now, warmer, turning everything around you into something calmer than it had any right to be after the day you’d had.
For a while, neither of you said anything. And, even after that fight you had, it didn’t feel awkward at all.
“This is nice,” you said after a moment, your voice quieter than before, not sharp, not defensive anymore, just calm.
Beside you, Jungkook let out a small breath, tilting his head back slightly as he looked up too. “Yeah,” he said. “It is.”
A short pause settled between you again, but this time it stretched comfortably, like neither of you felt the need to fill it immediately.
“I wish I could stay here,” he added after some minutes. “Like this. For a few weeks or something.”
You turned your head slightly to look at him.
“Here?” you asked. “Like this exact place in the middle of nowhere?”
He shrugged lightly. “Or somewhere like this.”
“Why?”
He didn’t answer right away. He stayed looking up for a second longer, like he was actually thinking about it instead of giving you something quick or without meaning.
“I don’t know,” he said finally. “It’s just… quiet.”
You hummed softly. “You don’t get that a lot?”
He let out a small laugh, but there wasn’t much humor in it. “Not really.”
You shifted slightly, turning more toward him now, resting one arm over your knee. “But you like what you do, right?” you asked.
“I do,” he said immediately. “I love it.” There was no hesitation in that But there was something else underneath it.“I just…” he paused, exhaling softly. “Sometimes I wish I could do that and then just live normally after. Like perform, do my job, and then go back to being… a person.”
You raised an eyebrow slightly. “You are a person.”
“You know what I mean.”
Maybe you did.
“Without people following you around?”.
“Yeah.”
“Without cameras.”
“Yeah.”
“Without people trying to figure out who you’re dating, where you are, what you’re doing every second.”
He glanced at you briefly. “Exactly.”
You looked back out at the horizon, thinking about it for a second. “…Then why don’t you just do it anyway?” you asked.
He frowned slightly. “Do what?”
“Just… live your life,” you said simply. “Ignore it.”
He let out a quiet breath, shaking his head. “It doesn’t work like that.”
“Why not?”
“Because it just doesn’t,” he repeated, a little more firmly this time. “If I don’t stay low, if I don’t avoid things, it gets worse. People get more curious, more invasive. It’s not just about me… it’s everything around me too.”
You watched him for a second, then looked away again. “…But it’s still your life,” you said.
“It is.”
“So you still have a choice.”
He was quiet for a moment. “I guess,” he admitted. “But it’s not that simple.”
“Nothing is,” you shrugged.
There was another pause. He stayed more quiet, thinking what you had just said.
“What would you even do?” you asked suddenly. “If you could just— do whatever you want, no one watching.”
He let out a soft breath through his nose, thinking. “I don’t know,” he said honestly. “Just… normal things. Walk around without worrying. Sit somewhere without people recognizing me. Go somewhere random without planning it.”
You smiled slightly. “Like today.”
He glanced at you again. “Yeah. Like today.” There was something softer in his expression now, something that hadn’t been there earlier. “I just don’t want to disappoint anyone either,” he added. “Army… they gave me everything. I know I owe them a lot.”
You nodded slowly, understanding that more than you expected. A quiet settled again.
“You know,” you said, shifting slightly, your tone thoughtful now, “maybe I don’t fully get it.” He looked at you. “Your life,” you continued. “Is so different from mine— from everyone I’ve met, really. Everything you do, everything you say… it’s all important and so public.” He didn’t interrupt. “I guess I don’t really understand.”
Jungkook looked at you, a little softer. His gaze more calm and a little warmer.
“Not everything,” he finally said.
You frowned slightly. “What?”
“Not everything is like that,” he repeated, looking at you now instead of the landscape. “Not right now.” You held his gaze. “Not with you,” he added quietly. Something in your chest shifted. “I feel like I can just… be myself,” he continued. “Not BTS Jeon Jungkook. Not… all of that. Just me.”
The silence that followed was for you to get your thoughts together. But you didn’t understand exactly what his words made you feel. Maybe like you two just understood each other in a way it was almost impossible to understand.
You looked at him for a second longer than you meant to, then glanced away, your fingers brushing lightly against the ground beside you. “…And how do you like it?” you asked, softer now.
He didn’t hesitate this time. “I like it a lot. I like myself a lot with you.”
You smiled faintly. “Me too.”
He smiled. And then he shifted slightly, turning more toward you, facing you better now.
“Tell me something about you.”
You raised an eyebrow. “What?”
“Anything.” He thought for a second. “I wanna know everything about you.”
“Well, that might take a while. My life is so extraordinary.” You let out a quiet laugh, shaking your head.
“Come on, tell me.”
You glanced at him, then back at the sky. He was looking too excited to know your life like it wasn’t so normal next to his.
“Well,” you started, stretching your legs out a little more, “I’m finishing my film studies soon.”
“Oh, yeah. You told me you were a senior, right?”
“Yeah. Finally my last year.”
“What do you want to do after?”
“I’m thinking about applying to a big studio back home,” you said. “Or at least trying. See what happens. If I don’t get it I might take a different route but I’ll stay in this lane. I know before I turn thirty I’ll be making my first movie.“
“That’s not a small step.”
“I know.”
“You sound sure about it.”
“I am.”
He watched you as you spoke, something about the way you said it, no hesitation, no doubt, pulling his attention more than the words themselves. “And when do you finish?”
“Three months more to go. I’m glad I got this break because next couple of months will be really busy.” You let him know. “I have a lot of exams and I’m organizing a fundraiser next month,” you added.
“For what?” He asked, curious.
“A local cinema,” you explained. “They’re struggling, so we’re putting together this small concert thing and an after party to raise money for them.”
“That’s actually really cool.”
You shrugged lightly. “It’s not that big.”
“It is,” he said. “You care about it.”
You glanced at him briefly, then looked away again, a small smile tugging at your lips. “Yeah,” you admitted.
He stayed quiet for a second. “…Can I ask you something?” You looked at him again, pressing your lips together before nodding, a little nervous by the look he was giving you. He hesitated just a little. “Why didn’t you like me?”
You didn’t answer immediately. You knew this was coming. Although you just hadn’t planned on actually answering it. “…It’s stupid,” you said finally
“I don’t think it is.”
“It is.”
“Tell me anyway.”
You exhaled slowly, leaning back again, your eyes on the sky instead of him.“It’s my sister,” you said. He stayed quiet. “Ever since we were younger,” you continued, your voice more even now, less defensive, “when she found out about BTS… it was just—everything.” You let out a small breath. “Every conversation, every hangout, everything we did… it always ended up being about you. About your friends. About the group,” you corrected, glancing at him briefly. “And it just got worse over time.” He listened. Didn’t interrupt “I left for college and I missed her like hell but everytime I try to catch up with her… it was just always about you guys. I felt like I was competing with something I couldn’t even reach,” you added. “Like I couldn’t win her attention because I wasn’t… you.” You shrugged lightly, like you were trying to downplay it. “I know it’s dumb—”
“It’s not,” he said quietly. You looked at him. “I get it,” he added.
You studied his face for a second, like you were trying to figure out if he was just saying that to not make you feel stupid.
“I guess I just built this… resentment,” you admitted. “Like I didn’t really hate you and overtime the dislike just stopped but this feeling stayed. Not really toward you and your group, but to this idea I had of you in my mind.”
“That makes sense.”
You blinked slightly. “You don’t think it’s stupid?”
“No.”
There was a small silence. Jungkook didn’t let you feel like your feeling were stupid, even when it was almost an attack towards him
“…Okay,” you said, softer now.
Another silence followed. But it felt different, it was lighter, easier. It was like you had finally taken a weight out of your shoulders. It made you feel better. You never believed you were going to fix that resentment with the one person that made you feel it but there you were.
Jungkook smiled slightly then.
“But now you like me.”
You turned your head slowly, meeting his gaze without hesitation, your expression completely unimpressed even if there was something softer sitting underneath it now.
“You wish.”
You pushed his shoulder lightly, meant to brush him off more than anything else, but his hand came up almost instantly, catching your wrist with an ease that felt natural, like he hadn’t even thought about it before doing it. The movement stopped you just enough to pull you slightly closer, your balance shifting toward him as your eyes flickered down to where his fingers wrapped around your wrist before lifting back up to his face.
There was a second, just one, where neither of you moved. Close enough now that the space between you didn’t feel accidental anymore. His grip loosened, not letting go completely, just enough to slide from your wrist to grip your knuckles between his fingers, thumb making his way to your palm and his fingers curling more gently this time as if giving you the chance to step back if you wanted to.
You didn’t. And he noticed. The change in his expression was subtle, but there, the teasing edge from before fading into something quieter, something more with intention, as his other hand came up to your waist, steadying you, pulling you just a little closer until there was barely any space left to pretend the action was still nothing.
He kissed you then.
The kiss wasn’t rushed. It wasn’t clumsy or uncertain either, it was slow and with intention, like he was testing the moment instead of taking it, his lips brushing yours first, soft enough to pause there, to let you react, to give you that last chance to pull away. You didn’t. Your hand tightened slightly around his without you realizing, your body leaning into him instead of away, and that was all it took for him to deepen it just enough to make it real, his hand at your waist firm now, holding you there as the kiss settled into something warmer, something that carried the tension from everything that had been building between you since the beginning of the day.
It wasn’t overwhelming but it wasn’t light either.
It had weight to it, the kind that made everything else go quiet without needing to force it, the kind that made you forget, even for a second, about the car, the argument, the fact that you were literally stranded in the middle of nowhere.
His thumb brushed lightly against your side, grounding, while your free hand came up almost instinctively, sneaking to his hair to pull him closer, even though you didn’t really need to.
When he pulled back, it wasn’t far. Just enough to look at you again, close enough that you could still feel his breath, still feel the warmth of him where his hand hadn’t moved.
And for once neither of you said anything. Because there wasn’t really anything to argue about anymore… So you just smiled, and Jungkook just kissed the shit out of you again.
——————————
By the time the sun fully disappeared, the world around you had changed again.
What had looked manageable in daylight now felt different. Darker, quieter, the kind of quiet that made every small sound feel louder than it should be, your steps crunching lightly against the ground, branches shifting somewhere far enough to not see but close enough to notice. You had no real sense of direction anymore, just walking, adjusting, guessing, but somehow neither of you had stopped. Trying to find the route back became a little more of a second thing to do after the kiss— even after you two were clearly lost.
On the way, your hands brushed at first accidentally. Then not. Then fully intertwined like it had always been what you two wanted, fingers fitting together without either of you making a big deal out of it, like acknowledging it would somehow make it more real than it already was. Every now and then he’d tug slightly, pulling you closer when the ground got uneven, or you’d bump into him on purpose just to hear the quiet laugh he tried not to let out.
“If we die here,” you said at some point, putting the camera on his face before showing ahead into what looked like absolutely nothing, “I want it on record that this is your fault.”
“My fault?” he repeated, glancing at you with a small smile that you could barely see in the dark but still felt, he grabbed the camera to shove it into his face. “I want the world to see the face of the woman who got rid of Jeon Jungkook.”
“You talking in third person because your name is big is insane. And you were driving,” you shook your head, accusatory.
“You told me where to go.”
“I didn’t tell you to get us lost.”
“That’s dramatic.”
“It’s literally what happened.”
Jungkook turned the camera off before grabbing your hand again and squeeze it lightly, like he was amused more than anything. “You’re fine.”
“I’m cold, lost, my phone is dead, and my grandma’s car is gone,” you listed, turning your head toward him. “Define fine.”
“You’re holding my hand,” he said simply.
You paused. “…That doesn’t count.”
“It counts.”
“It doesn’t.”
“It does.”
You rolled your eyes, but you didn’t let go.
The path— if you could even call it that— started narrowing, trees getting thicker around you, the air cooler, and just when you were about to complain again, something appeared ahead.
A cabin.
You both slowed down. “…What is that?” you asked quietly.
He squinted slightly. “Looks like… a motel?”
“A motel?” you repeated, already skeptical. “Here?”
You stared at it for a second longer. It looked questionable. Old wood, dim lights, the kind of place that felt like it existed outside of time in the worst possible way, like it had been there forever and no one had thought to update it. Like the damn start of an horror movie type of hotel. One of the lights near the entrance flickered slightly, and you felt your grip tighten around his hand without realizing.
“This is how horror movies start, Jungkook,” you said.
He let out a small laugh. “We don’t have a lot of options.”
“That doesn’t make it less creepy.”
“You want to keep walking?”
You hesitated before looking at the building again. “…No.”
“Okay then.”
He pulled you gently forward.
Inside was worse. Not in a dramatic, haunted way but in a quiet, unsettling one. The air smelled like old wood and faintly dusty, the kind of place that didn’t get many visitors and with a lot of reasons. Behind the small reception desk sat an old woman who looked up the second you walked in like she had been expecting you.
You froze for half a second.
“…Hi,” you said slowly.
She stared at you, then at Jungkook, and then back at you. “One room?” she asked.
You blinked. “…Uh—”
“Yes,” Jungkook answered before you could say anything. You turned your head toward him immediately. He didn’t look at you “One room,” he repeated, calm.
The woman nodded slowly, reaching for a key without another word. You leaned slightly toward him, lowering your voice. “One room?”
“Well, my phone is not working and I barely have enough cash,” he whispered back.
“I have some in my bag—”
He smiled slightly, finally glancing at you. “Too late now.”
You huffed softly, but didn’t argue further as the key was handed over. “Second floor, room 7” the woman said.
You took it. “Thank you.” She didn’t respond just watched you walk away. “…She hates us,” you muttered under your breath.
“She doesn’t know us.”
“She might know you,” you shrugged. “Maybe she’s a hater.”
“Shut up,” he snorted.
The room wasn’t as bad as you expected. Still old, still simple, but cleaner, warmer, a small relief after everything else, and the second the door closed behind you, you both just paused, taking a second to know you were finally able to have some rest after the day you had.
You looked at each other. And then laughed. Not really loud or dramatic but some giggles to release something that had been building since the car, since the beach, since everything… Because what a fucking day.
“This is insane,” you said, dropping your bag on the floor.
“Yeah,” he agreed, running a hand through his hair.
You glanced around, spotting a small bathroom. “I’m washing my face.”
“Go.”
You disappeared inside first, catching your reflection briefly and stopping for half a second. Your hair messy, clothes still slightly wet, sand in places you didn’t want to think about. You let out a small breath before turning on the water.
By the time you came out, he had already found the pile of oversized shirts folded neatly on the bed. “What is that?” you asked.
“Pajamas, I think.”
You picked one up. It was huge, almost to your knee. “This is a dress.”
“Better than wet clothes.”
“Fair.”
You both changed without much ceremony, the kind of casual that felt new but not uncomfortable anymore, like the line between awkward and normal had blurred somewhere along the day.
When you finally climbed into bed, it felt surreal.
Jungkook looked at you, already thinking of settling against the pillow. “So,” he said. “Do I have to sleep on the floor tonight?”
You turned your head slowly. “Are you asking or complaining?”
“Both.”
You considered it for a second. Then shifted slightly closer instead. “I guess I can make some space,” you said.
He didn’t argue, just smiled before moving closer, the space between you two disappearing easily, like it had been waiting to.
For a moment, you just lay there. Looking at each other, talking softly, about nothing important, small things, random comments that didn’t need full answers, your voices lower now, slower, the kind of quiet that only happened when the day is finally catching up to you.
His hand brushed yours again, then stayed and then moved again, like he wasn’t sure what he wanted to do yet. It went back again, it was lightly at first, fingers tracing absent patterns against your arm, your side, not rushed, like he was testing the space again, like earlier. You didn’t stop him. Didn’t move away. If anything, you leaned into it slightly, your hand finding his shirt, gripping lightly without thinking too much about it.
“Tou’re not complaining now,” he murmured softly.
You huffed a small breath. “Don’t start.”
“I’m just saying.”
“You’re always saying bullshit.”
He smiled faintly, closer now, his voice lower. “But now you like me.”
“I don’t—”
You didn’t finish because he kissed you again.
And this time it wasn’t new, it wasn’t hesitant. It was warmer, deeper, familiar in a way that didn’t make sense yet, his hand sliding more securely against your waist, pulling you closer as the conversation faded without needing to end properly.
His kiss deepened, like he was trying to taste every part of your mouth, trying to remember what it felt like for eh rest of his life. Jungkook’s mouth was soft and he moved his lips over yours slowly, thin lips kissing you with so much desire it made you feel good.
Jungkook crawled underneath the covers right on top of you, settling himself in between your thighs. Now in that oversized shirt and his underwear, he looked soft when he pulled apart to look at you, hair a it messy. You didn't get to admire it that much though, because your stomach was dropping rapidly, your breath caught in your throat. You could feel him resting against your core; thick, heavy and rock hard. He kissed you again, lips moving slowly to your neck.
“Jungkook, we don’t have—”
“I know,” he whisper in your ear, breathless. “I know. I just… just wanna feel you— I won’t fuck you, okay?”
You didn’t have protection, it was a fair deal. But his voice, already so needy, it made you wondered how he would sound if you fucked him— No, no, you couldn’t.
“Uhm,” you nodded slightly before kissing him again. Jungkook whined in your mouth, palming his bulge over his sweatpants. He used his other hand to tease your clit over your thin panties, thumb rubbing over the bundle of nerves ever so lightly that made you start getting wet. “That’s feels good.”
“Yeah?,” Jungkook continued circling your clit with his thumb, a little harder to make you leak your juices and stain your panties. “Wanna make you feel good. That’s all I wanna do for you.” He said almost sweetly. “Wan’ me to touch you better?”
You nodded, bordering on desperate as your hips kicked up when he pinched your little bud. Jungkook groaned under his breath, bringing his now slick thumb to his lips and sucking at the digit. A sight left his mouth, hands moving to pull at the hem of his pajamas. He didn’t give time for your foggy brain to process his actions, sliding his underwear down to mid thigh and leaving you to gape at his hard cock like a woman starved. You felt your tummy itchy at the thought of him inside you. You clenched around nothing.
Jungkook was quick to positioned himself over your wet panties. And the first experimental thrust that followed was deliciously sinful. His bulge rubbing up against you made your stomach jolt. He felt so good, so big.
He kept going, grinding his length forward in lazy rolls of his hips. The head of his cock pushing against your clit in a way that made your head spin. You were already soaked, panties dripping wet to aid in the glide of Jungkook’s length. You couldn’t help the little gasps leaving your mouth as your hips bucked forward.
“Shit, shit,” he cursed, hissing a bit when the mushroom tip of his cock bumps against your clothed clit, “you’re gettin’ so wet. Just by looking at my cock ‘n feeling it rub against your pussy. You like that, huh? Like how I’m rubbing against you?”
Your cotton panties surely were all damp with arousal now, from both Jungkook and you. His pre-cum mixed with your juices, ruining your pair of panties. The wet spot forming near your slit only got darker and darker the more you allow him to rub his dick back and forth over your cunt.
You nodded, eyes getting a little tearful at how good he was making you feel and the way he was talking to you. “Feels s’good, kook. You’re s’good for me—”
“No— fuck, I like when you say my name like tha. Makes me wanna fuck you right,” his voice was lower now, more lost in the desire. “Might just push in here...” Jungkook murmured as he positions the leaking head of his cock against your covered entrance, “.Fill you up full while hearing you scream my name. sounds good, right?”
You whined, feeling your cunt clench around nothing. His hips moved back and forth, shallow thrusts against the barrier that was your panties, mimicking the real thing. Your poor clit continuously being circled and bumped against his tip was driving you crazy.
“We can’t, we can’t—”
“I know, I know,” he kissed your neck before seating, knees between your spread legs and with a perfect view of your damped panties.
Jungkook ran a rough finger over your wet panties, keeping your legs spread wide with his knees. He easily found your little hole as the cotton material stuck to your pussy, showing the outlines of your lips.
“Jungkook…”
“So pretty down here, lemme see the real thing.” He pushed your panties to the side, watching your glistening cunt looking all ready for him. “Fuck, so ready for me. Wanna do some things to ya’, you have no idea…”
Jungkook let his fingers run over your wet lips before his middle started pushing into your core, it almost made him moaned how it swallowed him greedily, like it had bee waiting to be touched like that. You clenched so needy he put another finger inside you not too long after.
“Touch me better,” you pouted.
Fuck, he wanted to kiss the shit out of you. Jungkook’s cock leaked at the sight of your pussy sucking his fingers in like that, the sight of it so greedy, stretched around his bare hand was too much. His fingers pulled back and then inserted again, and again, a messy squelch echoing in the room, gossamer swirls of your arousal coating his fingers.
His fingers buried to the knuckle suddenly. It felt so good you couldn’t hold back your little whimper, hips bucking up. You felt every line and callous of his thick fingers, cunt gripping him like she's scared he'll leave. "Mhmm.”
Your cheeks were flushed, eyes rolling back, hips just rolling when he ran a thumb over your clit once more. “Look at me. See who’s making you feel this good.” You were barely focus, stretched so good by only his long fingers. Your lashes fluttered at his command, he leaned down just a bit as he worked you. "There you go, you like getting fucked like this, huh? Imagine how full you would feel with my cock instead.” He pressed his other hand to your tummy, just over your bellybutton. “Imagine how deep I would be, pushing my way until here. So you can feel all of me—”
You moaned, shaking your head as your hips stuttered when he fucked his fingers deeper and pressed harder in your clit. He was scissoring his long fucking fingers in and out of your now sloppy little cunt, your nails pressed into his forearms, just making him moan softly of how needy you were.
“We shouldn’t—”
“Let me feel you bare, baby.”
He fell on top of you again, body leaning into yours. Jungkook’s fingers flitted over you, taking your panties off and grazing your throbbing clit before lining his leaking cock back up. The feeling of bare skin sliding against bare skin, his slick length nudging your clit and the wet sounds of each roll of your hips made your whines grow an octave higher.
You moaned softly at the fraction, leaning your head to the side to give Jungkook more access to your neck. His mouth moved constantly, licking and biting at the skin with a reckless sort of desperation. Your lips, your jaw, your neck. You could feel the precum dripping from his tip smear against your clit, making a mess of your cunt already, with the rest of the mess you’ve made. Up and down and up and down.
Your voice caught up in your throat when the tip of Jungkook’s cock caught against your entrance, not entering you, but so close.
“Kook, no—”
“F-fuck,” Jungkook voice was cracking, he was needy. He needed to feel you or he was going to die. “Baby," he pleaded raspily, sucking a pretty bruise into your neck. He liked the thought of leaving marks on you. "Let me put it in, yeah?”
“Jungkook, we can’t—”
“Just the tip,” he begged desperately. “I promise. I promise just the tip. Please, please I just wanna feel you.”
His voice, so broken and pleading, The constant pulsing in your core increased in intensity, arousal flowing out of you and covering Jungkook’s cock all over. You could feel him twitch in response. He wrapped his fingers around it, pushing it against your clenching hole. The pressure felt divine.
Jungkook whined, panting against your collarbone. “I know is so tight, trying to suck me in all the way. Ngh. Promise I just wanna feel you… I just wanna feel you.”
He was breathless, his brows furrowed in concentration. He slid a few inches forward, the heat of your cunt enveloping the flushed, leaking tip snugly. He groaned, dropping his head to your shoulder again. Eyes rolling back, your greedy hole squeezing his tip like you were begging to be fucked.
“Uhmm, Kook.”
“Y-yeah,” he stuttered sweat dripping from his forehead. “Feels good, huh? Imagine how good it would feel I sink all the way in. Could make you feel so much better, so good.”
“I wanna feel you but—”
“Then feel me.”
A large palm pressed over your mouth as Jungkook buried his head in the side of your neck, muffling his own needy, drawn out groan as he pushed his thick cock inside you all the way. The hand at your lips barely offered reprieve when you moaned, eyes clenching shut at the feeling of finally being so full and stretched open around his length. Your cunt throbbed, struggling to accommodate him as he sank deeper. The stretch was uncomfortable, but at the same time so good you were on the verge of trembling.
Jungkook bottomed out with his entire body tensing up, not giving you much time to prepare before he snapped his hips back and slowly started fucking himself into you. His strokes were soft and loving, deep. So soft they didn't match the dirtiness of his actions.
You rolled your eyes back, feeling so good it made your toe fingers clench in pleasure. You grabbed his hand to move it out of your mouth. “Fuck me harder. Just— Just don’t come i-inside.”
“Yes, whatever— whatever you want, baby.” He groaned. "Won’t come inside. Fuck, yeah," the words were coming out hot and breathy, bumping against each other on his suddenly clumsy tongue. "F-fuck, I promise, baby. I won't come. I won’t, just wanna feel you.”
You arched your back to let him hit you deeper. And that made Jungkook groan again. He leaned his forehead on yours, entwining your fingers. With his free hand he held on to your hips, keeping you firmly in place as his knees spread more your thighs to fuck you deeper.
“Gonna come soon,” you warned him, cunt squeezing him tight when you felt the butterflies in your lower tummy.
“Me too,” Jungkook kissed your lips, sweetly, needy. “Me too, I’m s’ close.”
“Don’t— don’t cum ins—”
“Yeah, yeah.” His thumb moved immediately, rubbing fast, relentless circles right where you needed it while he buried himself deep, hips rolling in short, brutal strokes that hit your sweet spot over and over. “Gonna cum inside, make you full.”
“Jungkook,” you whined, unable to actually tell him he shouldn’t.
He definitely shouldn’t. But fuck he was fucking you so good.
He slapped your clit with his finger before pressing and rubbing it harder. You sobbed, eyes rolled back as he bullied your pussy with his thick cock.
“Gonna make you feel good, wanna make you feel s’ full.”
He muffled your sobs with a messy kiss, the thumping of the headboard against the wall growing frantic as you tightened around his cock.
Your walls fluttered and squeezed around him so tightly, pulsing in waves as your orgasm crashed through you, and it dragged him under with you. His hips stutter once, twice, then slammed deep one final time as he spilled inside you. Thick, hot ropes of his creamy cum flooding your insides to the deepest.
It was messy, dirty and overwhelming, your body clenching around him as he spilled his cum deep inside you, his hips jerking erratically as he rode out his orgasm. He collapse next to the bed, taking you with him to put you o. top, weight pressing him into the mattress, his cock still buried deep inside you, still pulsing.
Neither of you moved for some minutes.
Your cheek pressing his chest, his hand slowly and softly rubbing your lower back. You could feel his cum flooding down your cunt into the length of his cock again.
“That was… wow,” he said finally.
“Yeah.”
“Should we go again?.”
You giggled, a little breathless. Jungkook smiled before taking your jaw between his fingers to move your head up to kiss you. It was slow and hot. He smiled on your mouth before pushing his hips up, cock hitting your sensitive cunt.
“Jungkook!” you whined, sensitive and a little entertained by how much stamina the guy had.
“I’m not letting you sleep so easy tonight, baby.” He squeezed your thighs, hips rolling up again to hit that spot his was bury deep inside already. “Why don’t you show me how good you’re at riding me?”
Well, it was going to be a long night—
But you weren’t complaining at all.
——————————
Morning didn’t feel real at first. It came in slowly through the thin curtains, soft light spilling across the room like nothing had happened the night before, like you hadn’t gotten lost, fought, kissed, almost died in quicksand, and somehow ended up sleeping together in the middle of nowhere.
For a few seconds, you just stayed there, eyes half-open, not moving, letting that quiet settle before your brain fully caught up. Then you felt it. His arm. Loose, warm, resting across your waist like it had been there for hours without either of you noticing.
You blinked a little more awake, turning your head slightly.
He was still asleep, face relaxed in a way you hadn’t seen yet, hair messy, lips a little part open, completely unaware of anything around him, and for a second, just a second, you let yourself look at him without thinking about what it meant. The night before had been perfect but…
“You’re staring.”
You froze. His voice was rough with sleep, eyes still closed, but there was a faint smile pulling at his lips now.
“I’m not,” you said immediately.
“Mm,” he hummed, finally opening his eyes slightly, glancing at you without moving his arm. “You are.”
“I’m literally not.”
“You were.”
“I wasn’t.”
He didn’t argue, just watched you for a second longer than necessary before letting out a quiet breath and sitting up slowly, running a hand through his hair.
“What time is it?” he asked.
You looked around instinctively before remembering. “We don’t have phones.”
“Right.”
A small silence followed, both of you adjusting back into reality a little more with every passing second.
“There was a vending machine downstairs,” you said after a moment, pushing yourself up. “I saw it last night.”
He nodded slightly. “Food sounds good.”
“Very,” you agreed. “Let’s wash up and go eat something.”
The motel looked less creepy in daylight.
Still old, still quiet, but less like something out of a horror movie and more like something forgotten, which somehow made it easier to walk around to. The vending machine was exactly where you remembered, tucked in a corner, buzzing faintly, filled with random snacks that didn’t really go together.
You stood in front of it, arms crossed. “This is depressing.”
“It’s food,” he said, stepping next to you.
“This is not food. This is barely edible.”
“Same thing right now.”
You sighed, pressing a button anyway. “If I get sick, I’m blaming you.”
“You already blame me for everything.”
“That’s because everything is your fault.”
He huffed quietly, handing you a drink. “Here.”
You took it, brushing your fingers against his briefly. “Thanks.”
You both leaned against the wall nearby, eating in that same quiet from earlier, but it felt different now. Not uncomfortable, just… a little awkward. Like something had shifted overnight, and neither of you were fully sure what to do with it yet.
He glanced at you after a moment.
“…So.”
You looked back at him. “…So.”
There was a small pause.
“Are you… going back home soon?” he asked.
You frowned slightly, a little confused by his question. “To my country?”
“Yeah.”
“Next week,” you said. “Yeah.”
He nodded slowly, looking down at his drink for a second. “I have a tour,” he said.
You blinked. “Yeah.”
You were still trying to understand where he was going with this conversation. Jungkook let out a small breath that almost sounded like a breathy laugh. “Yeah.” Silence stretched again, heavier this time. “We could,” he started, then stopped. You waited. He glanced at you again, a little more hesitant now. “…I don’t know. See each other again?”
It wasn’t fully a question but it wasn’t a statement either.
You looked at him, studying his face like you were trying to understand what he actually meant, what that would even look like outside of… this. You had an amazing day with him but, seeing him again in another setting, would that ever work?. You didn’t know. You were very unsure.
But… you liked him enough to find out.
“Maybe,” you said slowly. He nodded once, like the fact that you wanted to try was enough for him. “It might be hard,” you added. “You know. With your tour. And me not even living here—”
“I know.” There was pause. “But… yeah,” he said quietly.
“Yeah,” you repeated.
And somehow, that was all you needed to say.
You exhaled softly, pushing yourself off the wall. “We should get going.”
Jungkook didn’t move immediately. Like he didn’t want to. He didn’t, he didn’t want it to end just yet. But he knew the end was coming so he only nodded. “Yeah. Come on.”
——————————
The map from reception looked older than the place itself. Folded too many times, slightly torn at the edges, but still readable enough to guide you back, and this time, with actual direction, the walk felt shorter, easier, like the world had decided to cooperate again.
By the time the beach came back into view, the air had changed again, warmer, brighter, familiar. And without thinking, your hand found his again. He didn’t let go. For a moment, it felt like yesterday hadn’t ended. Like you were still in that same bubble, untouched, separate from everything else. You slowed slightly, turning your head toward him, a small smile pulling at your lips. He looked at you the same way. It felt easy with him, at least when he was like that.
Jungkook leaned in slightly to kiss you but then—
Voices.
A group of people passed by, not even paying attention at first, just locals walking, talking, laughing, but it was enough. Enough to break it. Immediately, his hand dropped from yours. Not aggressively but fast, really fast.
He reached up, pulling the pink hat back on, adjusting it lower over his face, his posture shifting in a way you hadn’t seen since yesterday morning. Like something had snapped back into place. You looked at him a little amused
He glanced around quickly, more aware now, more alert. “…Okay,” he muttered under his breath. “Back to the real world.”
You frowned slightly. “What does that mean?”
He looked at you then, properly, but something was different, like he had just popped that little bubble he was just in.
“You know what happens now, right?” he asked.
You stared at him, still slightly amused. “No?”
He nodded slowly, like he expected that. “You can’t tell anyone about this,” he said.
You blinked. “What do you mean?”
“About yesterday, about today… About me. You can’t tell anyone, not even your family.”
You let out a small, confused laugh. “Why would I—? It’s not like they’re going to post it or something.” you added jokingly.
“I’m serious.”
His tone made you pause. “…Okay,” you said slowly. “But I don’t get—”
“If you want to continue seeing me you have to go through the company first,” he continued, cutting you off. “If you want you can come during the next couple of weeks, you have to sign an NDA with my lawyer. Nobody can know about this and if it gets public it will be worse for you. And if it things get complicated—”
You stared at him. “Wow, wow,” you cut him off, already uncomfortable by all the things you had to do for something that wasn’t even formal. “Okay. Calm down.”
“I am calm.”
“No, you’re not. You’re making it weird.”
“I’m not making it weird, I’m telling you how it works.”
“Why does it have to be like that?”
He didn’t even hesitated for half a second. “Because I’m Jungkook from BTS and you’re just an ordinary girl.”
That hit differently. His voice more firm, more detached, like it was something common he use to say… which it probably was. You didn’t react right away. You just looked at him like you didn’t recognize him for a second. Maybe you didn’t, you didn’t know him enough anyway.
You let out a small breath, nodding slowly, like you were processing it. “Wow,” you said again, quieter this time, but sharper. “Okay.”
He frowned slightly, noticing the way your expression changed. “What I mean—”
“No, I know what you meant,” you cut in, stepping back slightly. “And don’t worry about any NDA or future complications, I don’t want to see you again anyway.”
You turned and started walking away from him
“What— Wait, wait” he called your name before stepping in front of you quickly, blocking your way. “What just happen?…”
“Move.”
“If this is because of the NDA, you have to understand is for your privacy too—”
“I said move.”
“You don’t know what people can be like. How much hate you could get—”
“And whose fault would that be?” you snapped.
Jungkook hesitated. “It’s not just that,” he continued, trying again. “I have contracts, deals I can’t—”
“I don’t care.”
“You should—”
“Jungkook,” you said, firmly. “I don’t care anymore. I don’t know what you’re trying to do but this is not normal for me, okay?” You shook your head, unbelievable. “Usually when someone likes me they just ask me on a date, they don’t call me an ‘ordinary girl’ like it’s a slur— Or try to get me to sign contracts before we even go on a date— or tell me excuses about deals and whatever to not make it a big thing—”
“You need to understand my side—”
“No, I do,” you cut him off again. “You just don’t want to date an ordinary girl…”
“It’s not that—”
“Yeah, it is. Because you’re scaring me with all this shit and you’re acting like you’re doing me a favour by even paying me attention.” There was a silence. He didn’t say anything. Because he knew it was true. You nodded before pushing him slightly. “Goodbye, Jungkook.”
You started walking away, your chest tightened. You felt so stupid. Not because of the situation— a superstar using you— but because you had thought he was actually different from the idea you had form in your head about him.
But he just showed you…
“Y/n!,” he called your name. You stopped, turning around to see him. He looked a little embarrassed, his eyes on the sand. “… I need the camera back,” he said suddenly, quieter now.
You blinked. “…Seriously?”
“I don’t want those pictures getting out.”
You stared at him for a second longer then laughed. Not amused but disbelieving. You reached into your bag, pulled it out, and threw it at his feet.
“Take it. There’s nothing in there I want to remember anyway.”
He flinched it, a little thrown off. You turned again, walking away faster this time… At least three steps before you suddenly stopped. You sighed, frustrated before turning back. Jungkook was still froze in his place. You walked straight toward him again before he could even react.
He frowned slightly when you grabbed his arm, pulling it toward you and took a pen from your bag. “What—”
“Shut up.” You wrote quickly against his skin, pressing harder than necessary. “There,” you said, letting go. He looked down. It was a long number.
“…What is this?”
“My bank account,” you replied flatly. “You still owe me 1005€. And my grandma’s car.”
You stepped back. Turned again. This time, you didn’t hesitate to walk away as soon as you could. You didn’t want him to see your eyes getting red with tears.
“Wait, y/n—” Jungkook called after you again, moving forward. “I don’t want it to end like this.” You didn’t stop. “If you just try to understand—” he continued. “The media ruins everything. You wouldn’t be free—”
You turned your head just slightly. “They don’t have to ruin everything anymore, Jungkook,” you said, finally looking at him. “You just did.”
And then you kept walking, you didn’t look back again, because you didn’t want Jeon Jungkook— the superstar, the global idol— to see you crying for him. He didn’t followed you this time, he didn’t even try again to call your name. Behind you, voices started rising. At first just a few. Then more. Recognition spreading faster than it should, people stopping, turning, pointing, phones coming out—
“Is that—?”
“Oh my God—”
“Jungkook!”
And just like that the bubble shattered completely.
Neither of you noticed the camera in the distance. The one that had been there longer than it should have. Watching and capturing everything that just happened.
—————————
Your last few days in Korea didn’t feel like a proper ending.
They felt unfinished, like something had been cut off too abruptly and your body hadn’t caught up to it yet, like you were still waiting for something to happen even though nothing was going to. You went back to your great grandmother’s friend cabin that same day with sand still in your shoes and too many things in your head, and somehow you managed to explain everything to your sister without actually explaining anything, turning the whole story into something vague and harmless about getting lost, about the car breaking down somewhere you couldn’t properly describe, about being helped by someone you “didn’t really know.” You told the same story to your great grandma. She didn’t get mad, not even a little, which somehow made it worse, because she just nodded, patted your arm, and told you those things happened, that cars could be fixed and people got lost all the time, and you stood there feeling like you were the only one aware of how much you were leaving out. Your parents just went with what your grandma said, not really having the energy to fight her.
Your sister, on the other hand, was not as understanding. She was still pissed as hell.
She wasn’t really screaming at you all the time but it was the kind of pissed that sat in every look she gave you, in the way she crossed her arms when you spoke, in the short answers and the eye rolls that didn’t even try to hide how annoyed she was. To her, you had disappeared from the beach, completely abandoned her without explanation, and somehow ended up back in the cabin the next day like nothing had happened, which made absolutely no sense no matter how you tried to spin it. You told her you got dizzy again, that you had to leave, that things just… escalated, but it sounded weak even to your own ears, and she wasn’t buying it, not really.
“You just left me there and disappeared for a day!,” she said at some point, sitting across from you with her arms crossed tightly. “Do you know how crazy that is?!”
“I didn’t just leave you,” you replied, trying to keep your tone even. “I told you, I wasn’t feeling well.”
“You were fine before.”
“I wasn’t.”
She scoffed, shaking her head. “You always do this.”
“Do what?”
“Make things complicated for no reason.”
You almost laughed at that but you didn’t because there was nothing you could actually say.
So you let her be mad, let the silence settle between you in those awkward stretches where neither of you knew how to move forward, and instead focused on everything else. The last family dinners, the small outings, the little routines that were supposed to feel normal but didn’t quite land the same anymore even on your last days.
And then there was him.
Everywhere. It didn’t matter where you went Jungkook was there
Not physically but enough to make it impossible to ignore. On screens in convenience stores, playing quietly in the background while people walked in and out like it was nothing. On posters at bus stops, his face printed larger than life, smiling like you hadn’t seen him the last time you spoke. On the radio in taxis, his voice filling the space so casually it almost felt personal. Even in places you didn’t expect, small restaurants, late-night ramen spots where someone had his music playing low enough to blend into the noise. In the purple of the city, streets full of colour with his face all over…
It was exhausting.
Not because you missed him. You didn’t, you just couldn’t escape him. Korea loved him in a way that felt obsessive and effortless, built into everything around you, and you started noticing it more now, every detail sharper than before, every mention of his name making something twist in your chest before you could stop it.
By the time your trip was coming to an end, you found yourself counting down not because you were excited to leave, but because you needed distance. Somewhere you wouldn’t accidentally hear his voice in a random café or see his face printed on a billboard like it was part of the scenery, somewhere you could go back to being just yourself without all of this attached to it.
At least back home, you told yourself, you wouldn’t have to see him everywhere.
At least there, it would be easier to forget…
On the other side of the city, in a place filled with lights and noise and thousands of voices screaming the same name over and over again, Jungkook stood at the center of it all like nothing had changed.
The first concert in Goyang had ended with loud screams, overwhelming fans, perfectly timed, the kind of performance that left no space for mistakes and no room for anything personal to slip through. He moved through it automatically, every step rehearsed, every expression controlled, smiling when he needed to, speaking when it was expected, giving exactly what the crowd came for without letting anything else show.
From the outside, it was seamless. It always was.
Backstage was different, quieter in a chaotic way, staff moving around, voices overlapping, the energy still high but shifting into something more contained, more routine. His members talked around him, laughing, planning where to go next, throwing out ideas for food like they always did after a show and haven’t done in so long. He followed along, nodding when it made sense, answering when he had to, blending into the conversation without really being in it.
“Let’s go eat,” someone said.
“Yeah, I’m starving.”
“Same place as last time?”
“Please, no.”
He smiled faintly at that, just enough to look like he was listening.
They eventually settled on somewhere nearby, nothing too public, somewhere they could go without it turning into a scene, and by the time they reached the parking lot, the noise had faded into something more manageable. He got into his own car, not really feeling like getting his driver to take him there. He just wanted a moment alone and drive around to clear his mind. A car was more private than his motorcycle this time, specially after the concert.
He closed the door. And for the first time that day it was quiet.
He didn’t start the engine right away, didn’t reach for his new phone immediately either He just sat there for a second, hands resting loosely on the steering wheel, staring ahead at nothing in particular while everything from the day slowly settled around him.
Then he reached over to the backseat and picked up the camera like it was killing him not looking at it. The same one you threw at him some weeks ago already. He turned it in his hands for a moment before switching it on, the screen lighting up softly in the dim space of the car, and one by one, the pictures came back.
Blurry ones, bad angles of him, your weird faces when he took pictures. The candid photos he took of you without you noticing him, his big smile in the ones you took of him.
“Okay, let me take another one. But smile like you’re having the best time of your life.”
He was having the best time of his life. Moments that didn’t look like anything important to anyone else, but felt… different now, sitting there in silence with no noise to cover it.
There was one where you were mid-sentence, your expression slightly annoyed, like you were arguing about something stupid. Another where you were both smiling without realizing it, too distracted to care about the camera. One where the light hit you just right, turning everything softer than it actually was. A video after video of your little walk that night.
“I want the world to see the face of the woman who got rid of Jeon Jungkook.”
He stayed on that one a little longer. His thumb hovering over the screen, not moving, not deleting, just there. It was so different, his own smile before he shoved the camera to your face and how you argued with him. He has never seen his own smile like that, so carefree, so himself, so…
Outside, someone knocked lightly on his window.
“Dude, my driver’s been honking for ten minutes. Are we going to eat or what?”
He blinked at Jimin, the moment breaking just like that, and quickly turned the camera off, setting it aside like it hadn’t meant anything. “Yeah, yeah” he said, grabbing his keys. “I’m moving.”
He turned on the engine out, the noise returning instantly, the world snapping back into place like it always did. And just like that everything went back to normal. Normal as his life could be. Or at least, that’s what it looked like.
——————————
For the second concert in Goyang, Jungkook went out with for dinner with his friends.
It was louder than usual, or maybe it just felt that way. The restaurant wasn’t anything fancy, just one of those places they could go to without turning it into a full scene, tucked away enough to keep things manageable but still busy enough that no one paid too much attention. Plates kept arriving, someone was already complaining about being starving even though they had eaten barely an hour ago, and the conversation moved easily between them, jumping from congratulating him for the concert to random jokes to things that didn’t matter at all.
Jungkook sat with them, nodding when it made sense, responding when someone addressed him directly, but there was a slight delay to everything he said, like his mind was always half a step behind the moment.
It didn’t take long for someone to notice.
“You’re quiet,” Eun-woo said, leaning back slightly as he looked at him. “What’s up?.”
“I’m always quiet,” Jungkook replied without looking up from his plate.
“No, you’re not,” his friend replied cut in immediately. “You are tired sometimes but you’re not quiet even when you’re spacing out. And this is not tired quiet.”
Jungkook let out a small breath through his nose, still not fully engaging. “I’m fine.”
“That’s even worse,” Mingyu added, shaking his head. “He said ‘I’m fine.’ He’s definitely not fine.”
His friends laughed at that, the tension easing just enough to make it feel like a joke, but their eyes stayed on him, waiting.
“…What?” Jungkook finally said, glancing up.
“Just say it,” Mingyu shrugged. “What’s going on?”
He hesitated for a second.
Not because he didn’t want to say it but because saying it out loud would make it more real than it already felt in his head.
“…There’s this girl,” he said finally.
That was enough. The reaction was immediate. “Oh, here we go.”
“Of course there is.”
“Who is she?”
“I didn’t know you started dating again—”
Voices overlapped, interest sparking instantly, and Jungkook almost regretted opening his mouth at all, but it was too late now.
“I wasn’t but—” he scratched his head, a little shy. “I met her very spontaneously and—”
“Wait, what do you— Oh my god! Is this the girl who threw up in my shoes?!”
“Dude…”
Mingyu gasped. “She is!” he whined. “She threw up in my favourite shoes, man! You’re a traitor, how can you like her? She even insulted my hair!”
“She thought it was real—”
“IT IS REAL—”
“Okay, shut up! You’re grabbing attention.” Eunwoo slapped his friend’s shoulder before looking at Jungkook. “What’s up with this girl?.”
The question settled into something lighter, easier, and for a moment it felt like just another chat, like nothing about it was different from any other night, but then his friend leaned forward slightly, resting his elbows on the table.
There was a small silence before he finally let it out. “I can’t stop thinking about her,” he admitted, a little quieter this time.
“What do you mean?”
Jungkook paused again, this time not because he didn’t want to say it, but because he wasn’t sure how to explain it without it sounding like more than it was— or less than it actually felt.
“She’s just…” he started, then stopped, searching for the right words. “She’s real.” They waited “She doesn’t care,” he continued. “Not about who I am, not about any of this. She’s annoyingly honest, like— she’ll just say things without thinking about how they sound, and it’s frustrating, but also…” he let out a small breath, shaking his head slightly. “I don’t know. It’s different.”
“Different how?” his friend asked.
He looked down at his hands for a second before answering. “She’s smart,” he said. “And she’s funny, but my type of funny which is rare. And she’s—” he hesitated just slightly, then continued anyway, “—she’s beautiful.”
There was a brief silence after that. Not awkward just his friends thinking about his words.
Mingyu finally leaned back, crossing his arms. “Okay. So what’s the problem?”
Jungkook frowned slightly. “What do you mean?”
“I mean, you clearly like her,” he said. “So what’s stopping you?”
That question lingered longer than the others. Jungkook didn’t answer immediately. Because he already knew.
“Everything,” he said finally. They didn’t interrupt. “I don’t want to drag her into this,” he continued, gesturing vaguely, like “this” explained everything. “You know how it is. The rumors, the media, people digging into her life, saying things about her… she didn’t ask for that.”
“Well— yeah, that can be a reason,” his friend nodded. “But you can always keep things more private.”
“I don’t think she likes that, but even if had did I— I already…” he trailed off, exhaling slowly. “I already messed it up.”
“How?”
Jungkook let out a quiet, humorless laugh. “By being exactly what she thinks I am.” They exchanged looks, not fully understanding but not pushing either. “She doesn’t want anything to do with it,” he added. “With me.”
“That’s fixable,” Mingyu said.
Jungkook shook his head slightly. “Not really.”
“Why not?”
“Because she’s right,” he said simply. That shut them up for a second “I mean, look at it from her side,” he continued. “It is complicated. It would get messy. And I don’t even know if I could make it not messy.”
“You don’t know that,” his friend argued.
“I do.” There was no hesitation in that answer. He leaned back slightly in his chair, his expression settling into something more neutral again, like he had already made the decision even if it didn’t sit right. “It’s better this way anyway,” he said after a moment. “Even if it doesn’t feel like it right now.”
No one responded immediately. Not because they agreed but because they knew that tone in Jungkook. The one where he had already decided something and wasn’t going to change it, no matter how much he might regret it later.
“You’re gonna regret this,” Mingyu said finally, shaking his head.
Jungkook smiled faintly. “I already am.”
——————————
The next day felt heavier for Jungkook.
Not in an obvious way, not something anyone else would notice right away, but it was there, sitting in the background of everything he did, following him through rehearsals, through conversations, through the small moments where his mind drifted just enough to bring it all back again.
When his manager asked him to come in for a meeting, he didn’t think much of it at first. Meetings weren’t unusual… but the tone was.
“Sit,” his manager said, already holding something in his hand.
Jungkook frowned slightly but did as he was told, closing the door behind him before taking a seat across from the desk. “What’s going on?” he asked.
His manager didn’t answer immediately. He just slid a photo across the desk. Jungkook looked down. And felt his chest tighten.
It was the beach. Him and you.
Not blurry, not unclear… clear enough to recognize exactly what it was, exactly where it had been taken, the angle slightly off but not enough to hide anything important.
He looked back up “…Where did you get this?”
“Where do you think?.”
Of course.
“You already knew they’ve been following you for months,” his manager continued calmly. “Ever since the rumors started. They’ve been waiting for something like this and you just gave it to them.”
Jungkook clenched his jaw slightly, his eyes dropping back to the photo for a second before he pushed it back across the desk. “It’s not what it looks like,” he said.
His manager raised an eyebrow. “What does it look like?”
Jungkook exhaled sharply, trying to think of something quickly. “She’s not— It was just a mistake…”
“A mistake?” his manager cut in. He didn’t answer. “Because that’s not what they’re going to say,” he continued. “And it’s definitely not what the brand is going to think.”
Jungkook frowned. “What brand?”
His manager let out a small breath, leaning back in his chair. “Se-seril.” That got his full attention. “They’re already hesitant,” he added. “You know that. The image they want is not this again.”
Jungkook’s jaw tightened again. “It’s just one photo.”
“It’s never just one photo,” his manager replied calmly. “It’s a pattern. And right now, they think you can’t even last a week without getting involved in something— with someone.”
“That’s not fair.”
“It doesn’t have to be fair. It just has to be convincing.”
Silence settled between them, heavier now.
Jungkook ran a hand through his hair, frustration building slowly under his skin. “I’ll fix it.”
His manager studied him for a second before nodding slightly “I hope so,” he said. “Because the marketing team already made their position clear.”
“What position?” Jungkook looked at him.
His manager sighed, a short silence followed before he clearly said: “Its simple. Either the girl goes… or the deal does.”
The words landed heavier than anything else that had been said. Jungkook didn’t respond immediately. He just sat there, staring at the desk for a second longer than necessary, his thoughts moving faster than he could keep up with, everything from the last few weeks crashing into the reality of what was sitting in front of him now.
He couldn’t believe that one thing, just one small thing could get this big. This wasn’t just about him anymore. It never really had been… And suddenly it all felt a lot more complicated than it had on that beach.
A perfect day had gone perfectly wrong in all ways.
——————————
The moment you landed, everything changed.
Not slowly, not in a way you could process step by step, but all at once, like someone had flipped a switch while you were mid-flight and you only realized it once your phone turned back on and didn’t stop vibrating. Notifications flooded your screen before you even had time to unlock it properly, messages stacking over each other so fast you couldn’t read a single one completely before another one appeared, your name, your actual full name, mixed between usernames you didn’t recognize and words you wished you hadn’t.
At first, you thought it was a glitch.
Then you opened one. And everything clicked into place in the worst way possible.
The photo. That same one. You and him at the beach, close enough, clear enough, intimate in a way that didn’t need context to become something else entirely once it hit the internet. It had spread everywhere, accounts reposting it, threads dissecting it, videos zooming in like there was something hidden between the pixels that needed to be uncovered… and somehow, within hours, they had found you.
Not just your face. You, your name, your university, your social media.
It didn’t make sense how fast it happened, but it didn’t need to. It was already done.
You stood there for a second longer than you should have, still at the airport, people moving around you while your screen kept lighting up with things you didn’t want to read, your chest tightening slowly as you opened more and more of it despite knowing it wouldn’t get better.
“Who is she?”
“Where did he meet her?”
“She looks like a fan.”
“Another sneaky link.”
“His new toy.”
“New girl of the month.”
It didn’t even feel like they were talking about a real person. Like they weren’t talking about you. But they were.
And it just kept going for days.
People asking questions like you owed them answers, like your life had suddenly become public property just because you happened to exist next to him in the wrong moment. Others didn’t even bother asking, they decided things for you, built entire stories out of nothing, filling in gaps with whatever made the most sense to them, no matter how far it was from the truth.
By the time you got back to your own dorm back to uni, it had gotten worse.
Local accounts had picked it up, translating everything, spreading it further, and suddenly it wasn’t just international fans, it was people around you too. Messages from people you hadn’t spoken to in months, classmates sending screenshots, asking if it was really you, if it was real, if you actually knew him.
Even the news. Not big headlines, not yet, but enough.
Enough for paparazzi to start showing up where they shouldn’t, asking questions you weren’t ready to answer, cameras pointed at you like you had done something wrong just by existing in the same space as him.
You tried to ignore it. At least at first.
You turned your phone off for a few days, told yourself it would calm down, that it would pass like everything else on the internet did.
It didn’t. When you turned it back on, it was worse. More messages. More tags. More people.
Your parents asked what happened the first night you were back to your dorm and luckily they had found the news after landing so you were already enough far away to not see their faces— because you knew you couldn’t lie to them— , their tone careful, confused more than anything, like they didn’t fully understand what they were looking at but knew it wasn’t small. You told them it was nothing, that it was exaggerated, that people were making things up, and technically you weren’t lying— but you weren’t telling the truth either.
You didn’t know how to. You didn’t even know where to start… So you avoided it.
Went back to your classes as soon as you could, using them and work and anything else as an excuse to not stay in the internet too long, to not visit your parents because you knew they would look at you like they were waiting for an explanation you couldn’t give.
Your sister didn’t make it easier either. Her messages didn’t stop. At first, it was confusion. Then disbelief, then more crashing out feelings.
“Is this real???”
“Tell me that’s not you.”
“Why are people saying you were with him???”
“Did you meet him???”
“Why didn’t you tell me???”
You stared at the screen more than once after days of ignoring their messages and calls, Your fingers hovering over the keyboard, trying to figure out how to answer without making it worse, how to explain something that didn’t even feel real anymore now that it was out there like that.
In the end, you kept it simple:
“I just bumped into him.”
That was it. You had never lied to her before. Not like that. And the moment you sent it, something sat heavy in your chest, the guilt settling in immediately, but it was too late to take it back, and honestly— it felt easier than trying to explain everything else.
Because everything else felt like too much. Too personal, too exposed.
And the truth was, you were already drowning in it. The hate didn’t stop. If anything, it got worse for you. Comments under your posts, messages you didn’t open anymore, notifications you started ignoring completely because reading them only made it worse. People telling you to stay away from him, like you had any control over any of this now, like you had planned it, like you were trying to get something out of it. You weren’t. You never were. And yet, none of that mattered.
One night, you sat on your bed with your phone in your hand, scrolling through things you knew you shouldn’t be looking at, reading comments that blurred together after a while, all saying the same thing in different ways, all pointing at you like you were the problem.
You didn’t even know what you were looking for anymore. Maybe something that made sense, maybe something that defended you. Maybe just something different…
Instead, you found a clip.
Short and already viral inside the fandom. Jungkook. From a live he had done the day before.
You hesitated for a second before pressing play.
“…I’m just trying to live my life the best I can,” he was saying, his tone calm, chill in that way that made it feel like nothing serious was happening. He was drinking a beer, looking even more casual. “But it’s honestly so weird how Army can’t even get close to take a picture anymore because it gets out of control.”
You froze. The video kept playing, but you didn’t hear the rest because that was enough. Army. He said it so easily so naturally. Like that was all it had been. Like that was all you had been. A fan who got too close. A situation that got “out of control.” And he has said you were the one thing you had despised the most for the longest time— a fan of him.
And he knew that. And the worst thing was he probably didn’t even care.
You stared at the screen, your grip tightening slightly around your phone, something sinking in your chest in a way that felt heavier than everything else you had read that week.
Because this wasn’t a rumor. This wasn’t strangers making things up. This was him. And just like that, everything you had been trying not to think about—the beach, the conversation, the way he said he could be himself with you, the way he looked at you like you were something different— collapsed into something much simpler. Much clearer.
Jeon Jungkook was exactly what you thought he was.
And somehow that sucked more than anything else.
——————————
The post didn’t just spread. It exploded.
By the time Jungkook saw it, it was already everywhere, screenshots reposted across platforms, translations in multiple languages, fan accounts debating every word like it was evidence in something bigger than it actually was. It had the kind of tone that people believed easily: calm, polite, short, just enough distance to feel real but not enough to invite more questions.
He stared at it longer than he should have.
“It’s pretty weird for me to go online making statements but this harassment really needs to stop, especially toward my family who had nothing to do with this. The last week of last month I went to Korea to enjoy my spring break with my family. I met Jungkook at some beach in Busan. My sister is a big fan of the group so I just asked for an autograph and a picture. Respect to BTS and their craft, they’re amazing artists, but I promise I don’t know Jeon Jungkook (or any member of the group) AT ALL.”
He read it again.
And again.
And again.
Each time it felt worse.
“…Damn.”
Mingyu’s voice came from right next to him, leaning over his shoulder without asking, his phone forgotten in his own hand as he read along.
“That’s brutal,” he added, straightening up slightly.
Jungkook didn’t answer immediately, his thumb still resting against the screen like he was about to scroll but couldn’t bring himself to. “…Yeah,” he said finally, quieter than before.
Mingyu glanced at him, studying his face for a second. “Didn’t you say you liked her because she was annoyingly honest?”
Jungkook let out a small breath through his nose. “Yeah.”
“Well,” Mingyu shrugged lightly, “you got her to lie for you.”
That made Jungkook look up. “I didn’t—” he started, then stopped. Because he didn’t have a real way to finish that sentence.
Mingyu raised an eyebrow. “You didn’t?”
Jungkook ran a hand through his hair, frustrated more with himself than the conversation. “That’s not what I meant.”
“Then what did you mean?”
“I didn’t ask her to say that.”
“You didn’t have to.” Jungkook looked away, jaw tightening slightly, his grip on the phone shifting. Mingyu leaned back against the couch, watching him carefully now. “You told me she was different.”
“She is.”
“You told me she was honest.”
“She is.”
“So why is she out there writing something like that?” Jungkook didn’t answer. Because he knew. Mingyu exhaled slowly, shaking his head a little. “You know what this looks like from the outside?”
Jungkook glanced at him. “What?”
“It looks like she’s protecting you.” The room went quiet for a second. “And you’re letting her,” Mingyu added.
Jungkook frowned. “What am I supposed to do? Go online and say I lied and she did it too for me? Confirm everything they’ve been saying is true?”
“I didn’t say that.”
“Then what?”
“I’m just asking why you’re okay with this,” Mingyu said, more serious now. “Because you don’t look okay.”
Jungkook let out a short, humorless laugh. “Of course I’m not fucking okay with this.”
“Then why are you acting like you are?”
“I’m not acting like anything.”
“You are,” Mingyu insisted. “You’re sitting here pretending this is just… how things have to be.”
Jungkook shook his head, standing up abruptly, pacing a few steps before stopping again. “It is how things have to be. You know that.”
“Do I?”
Jungkook turned to look at him. “Yes, you do.”
Mingyu tilted his head slightly. “I know how things usually are. That doesn’t mean they have to stay that way.”
Jungkook let out a frustrated breath. “You don’t get it.”
“Then explain it to me.”
He hesitated. Then spoke anyway. “I have a deal on the line. The company is already watching everything I do. There are rumors everywhere, and now this—” he gestured vaguely toward his phone, “—this just makes it worse. If I mess this up, it’s not just about me. It’s the group, the brand, everything.” Mingyu listened without interrupting. “And she didn’t ask for any of that,” Jungkook added. “She shouldn’t have to deal with it because of me.”
“She’s already dealing with it, Jungkook,” Mingyu pointed out. Jungkook went quiet. “That post?” Mingyu continued. “That’s not someone who’s fine. That’s someone trying to control something that’s already out of control. She’s a girl who’s never been public like us and you just lit her on fire. She literally fell into the worst place for this— no offence to your fans, of course.”
Jungkook looked down again, his thoughts catching up to him faster now, pieces clicking into place in ways he didn’t like.
“I was trying to protect her,” he said, quieter.
“From what?”
“From this.”
Mingyu nodded slowly. “And how’s that working out?” Jungkook didn’t answer. Because it wasn’t working out, at all. Mingyu leaned forward slightly, resting his elbows on his knees. “You’ve been saying for some time you wanted to live more honestly.” Jungkook glanced at him. “You said you were tired of all the noise, all the pretending, all the things you have to be for everyone else,” Mingyu continued. “You said you wanted something real.”
“I do.”
“Then why are you doing the exact opposite right now?”
That question sat heavier than anything else. Jungkook opened his mouth to respond, but nothing came out immediately, his thoughts shifting, rearranging, trying to find something that made sense. “I’m not doing the opposite,” he said finally, but it sounded weaker than he wanted it to.
“You are,” Mingyu said simply. “You’re choosing the same thing you always choose.”
“And what is that?”
“Everyone else.”
Silence settled again for a moment. Jungkook looked away, his jaw tightening again, but this time it wasn’t frustration, it was something els, something closer to realization.
“I don’t want to disappoint people,” he said after a moment.
Mingyu nodded slightly. “I know.”
“I don’t want to mess things up.”
“I know.”
“I don’t want to lose everything I’ve worked for.”
“I know,” Mingyu repeated, softer this time. “But at what point do you start losing yourself instead?” That hit differently. Jungkook didn’t respond . He just stood there, the weight of everything settling in a way it hadn’t before, all the reasons he had been telling himself starting to sound less like answers and more like excuses. “You can’t make everyone happy,” Mingyu added after a moment. “You know that, right?”
Jungkook let out a quiet breath, almost a laugh, but there was no humor in it. “Yeah.”
“Then why are you still trying?”
He didn’t have an answer for that. Not a real one. Because the truth was, he had always tried. Always balanced everything carefully, always adjusted himself just enough to fit what was expected, what was needed, what was safe. And maybe that had worked before. But now it didn’t feel right. Not after everything, not after you.
He thought about the beach… About the way you looked at him like he was just another person, not something untouchable, not something to be careful around. About the way you argued with him without hesitation, the way you didn’t soften your words just because of who he was, the way you had said things exactly as they were, even when it would have been easier not to.
Annoyingly honest, that’s what he had called you. And now you were out there lying for him…
The realization settled slowly, but once it did, it didn’t leave. “I don’t want to be that person,” he said quietly.
Mingyu looked at him. “What person?”
“The one she thinks I am.”
“Then don’t be.”
Jungkook let out a breath, running a hand through his hair again, but this time it felt different, less frustrated, more clear. “If i follow this… it won’t be simple,” he said, but it didn’t sound like he believed it as much anymore.
“It never is,” Mingyu shrugged. “That doesn’t mean you don’t have a choice.”
Jungkook looked down at his phone again, the post still open, the words sitting there like a reminder of everything he had tried to avoid.
He thought about the brand. The deal. The expectations. The image. And then… he thought about you. Walking away from him on that beach. Looking at him like you didn’t want a person like him in your world—
But he wanted a person like you in his.
“They don’t have to ruin everything anymore, Jungkook. You just did.”
He exhaled slowly. Maybe he had. Maybe he still was. But that didn’t mean it had to stay that way. He lifted his head slightly, something shifting into place.
“I need to fix this,” he said finally.
Mingyu raised an eyebrow. “How?”
Jungkook didn’t answer immediately. Because he didn’t know yet. Not exactly. But for the first time since all of this started he wanted to find out.
——————————
The days after your post, everything settled into something that almost felt normal again, or at least a version of it that you could tolerate without constantly checking your phone like something new was about to explode.
Classes went on, people eventually stopped staring as much, and the noise online shifted into something less aggressive, less suffocating, especially after your statement started circulating and people accepted the version of the story you had given them. It wasn’t perfect, there were still comments, still whispers, still the occasional message that slipped through and reminded you that the internet never really forgot… but it wasn’t the same kind of overwhelming chaos it had been at the beginning, and for the first time since you got back, you could breathe without feeling like you were about to be dragged into something you couldn’t control.
It helped that you kept yourself busy.
The fundraiser had taken over most of your time, in the best way possible, because it gave you something tangible to focus on, something that didn’t revolve around him or what people thought they knew about your life. It was bigger than you originally planned, almost accidentally so, because more people had gotten involved once word spread, and now it had turned into a full event with performances, a small stage, lights you had to coordinate, a playlist that kept changing every time someone new asked to join, and a budget that somehow still didn’t feel like enough even though you had spent days recalculating everything down to the smallest detail.
By the afternoon of the event, you were running on little sleep and too much caffeine, moving from one place to another with a checklist in your head that never seemed to end, making sure everything was set, confirming times, answering questions that could have been answered if people just read the messages you had already sent them. It was a little messy but at least it had you focus on something else, it felt productive instead of overwhelming, and for a few hours you almost forgot about everything else.
Almost.
Because even when you weren’t thinking about it directly, it was there, sitting quietly in the back of your mind, showing up in the smallest ways, like when someone mentioned music and your brain immediately connected it to something you didn’t want to revisit, or when your phone lit up with a notification and your chest tightened for half a second before you realized it was nothing important.
You had gotten better at ignoring it.
At ignoring people… him. Or at least pretending to.
By the time you finally went back to your dorm to get ready, the sun was already starting to set, the light outside softer, warmer, a reminder that the night was about to begin whether you felt ready or not. You pushed the door open without thinking much about it, already mentally going over everything you still had to do once you got back to the venue, but you stopped mid-step when you realized you weren’t alone.
Hana was sitting on your bed.
She looked up the moment you walked in, like she had been waiting, and for a second neither of you said anything, the silence stretching just long enough to feel weird.
“Hi,” you said, a little unsure.
“Hi,” she replied, just as quietly.
You closed the door behind you, dropping your bag by the chair, trying to act normal even though the tension between you hadn’t really gone away since you got back. “What are you doing here?”
“I came to see you,” she said simply.
You nodded slowly, moving around the room like you had a purpose, even though you were mostly just avoiding the conversation you knew was coming. “You could’ve texted.”
“I did.”
You paused for a second. “…Right.”
There was the silence again.
You opened your closet, pulling out something to wear for the night, focusing on that instead of her, but you could feel her watching you, and it didn’t take long before she spoke again.
“Are you going to keep pretending nothing happened?” she asked.
You sighed quietly, not turning around. “Hana…”
“No, I’m serious,” she continued, her voice not angry, just frustrated. “You disappeared in Busan, you came weird, we came back home, and suddenly the whole internet is talking about you and him, and you’re just— what? Acting like it’s not a big deal?”
“I said it wasn’t like that.”
“I know what you said,” she cut in. “I read the post.”
You turned to look at her then, your expression tightening slightly. “Then what else do you want me to say?
“The truth.”
The word hung there.
You looked at her for a second longer before shaking your head, turning back to your clothes. “I told you what happened.”
“No, you told me a version of what happened,” she said, standing up now, taking a few steps closer. “And maybe that’s enough for everyone else, but I’m not everyone else.” You stayed quiet. “I’m your sister,” she added, softer now. “I should at least know what’s real.”
You exhaled slowly, running a hand through your hair. “I can’t—” you started, then stopped, your voice catching slightly before you forced it back into something steady. “I just don’t want to talk about it right now, okay?”
She watched you carefully, searching your face like she was trying to decide whether to push more or not. “…Fine,” she said after a moment. You nodded, relieved too quickly. “But that doesn’t mean I’m just going to stand here and watch you pretend you’re okay when you’re clearly not.” That made you look at her again. “I don’t need details,” she continued. “I don’t need to know what happened or why or any of that. But you could at least let me be here for you.” Your expression softened slightly, caught off guard by the shift in her tone. “I can’t stand seeing you like this,” she added, her voice quieter now. “You’ve been… off. And I don’t like it. I prefer when you’re weird and annoying.”
You let out a small breath, your shoulders relaxing just a little. “I’m fine.”
“You’re not,” she said immediately. “And that’s okay, but stop acting like you are.”
You hesitated. Because she wasn’t wrong. And for the first time in days, it didn’t feel like you had to defend yourself or explain anything or prove something, it just felt like she was there, waiting, not asking for more than you could give.
You looked away, and you realized for the first time this was your fucking sister you were talking about. Your hands flew directly to your eyes, tears filling up in your eyes almost too fast.
“It’s just been a lot,” you admitted finally, voice breaking.
She nodded, stepping closer. “I know.”
You shook your head, still not able to see her. “I didn’t think it would get like that.”
“Of course you didn’t.”
“And now it’s just…” you trailed off, now crying. “I don’t even know what to do”
“You don’t have to do anything,” she said. “You just have to get through it.”
You let out a small, almost tired laugh. “That sounds very easy when you say it like that.”
“It’s not easy,” she admitted. “But you’re not doing it alone.”
That made something in your chest loosen just a little. You moved your hands to look at her and she was quickly to embrace you into a hug.
“I hate this,” you sobbed.
“I know,” she said softer. “I swear I’ve been fighting with all those fake armys defending your honour.”
That made you snort, specially since she said it very calm. You knew it was true.
“And did it ork?”
“Not really. And I’m actually hating Jungkook for not going online to defend a supposedly fan.” She said disgusted.
You stepped away, cleaning your tears and looking at her accusatory. “You hating that guy? Did you have an accident? Are you okay?”
“Shut up,” she pushed you slightly. Hana grabbed your shoulders so you would look at her directly. “You know I would kill anyone for you, right?. Even Jeon Jungkook of BTS if is necessary.” You looked at her, searching her face like you were trying to find any sign that she didn’t mean it but she did. “I don’t care how much I love them,” she continued, her voice steady. “You come first. Always.”
You blinked, caught off guard by how certain she sounded. You looked at her again and for a second it hit you how much you had been holding onto something that wasn’t even real anymore, something you had built over years without realizing it.
“Even those idiots?” you asked, a small smile tugging at your lips despite yourself.
She rolled her eyes. “Especially those idiots.”
You laughed then, a real one this time, the tension easing out of your shoulders in a way it hadn’t in days.
“Wow,” you said. “You hating them for me? That’s new.”
“Don’t get used to it,” she shot back. “I’m only doing it temporarily.”
“Of course.”
“But seriously,” she added, her tone softening again. “If he did something— if something happened and he acted like an idiot or something when you asked for a picture… I swear I’ll find him and kick his ass.”
Something in your chest tightened again, but this time it wasn’t heavy, it was warm. You stepped forward without thinking too much about it, wrapping your arms around he again, and she hugged you back immediately, like she had been waiting for it.
“Thank you,” you murmured.
“Always,” she replied.
“But Hana we both know you’re fainting if you ever get the chance to talk to him.”
“Yah!” she pushed you back. “You have to understand!—”
You burst out laughing. The sweet moment stayed like that for a moment longer than usual, letting it settle, letting yourself feel it without overthinking it, just laughing with your sister. Things didn’t feel as overwhelming as they had before, not with her.
“Okay,” you said, clearing your throat slightly. “I have an event to run. Let’s get ready to party.”
She smiled. “Oh, finally.”
You turned back to your closet, grabbing your outfit again, but this time your movements felt steadier, more grounded, like you weren’t carrying everything on your own anymore.
And as you started getting ready, adjusting things, checking your reflection quickly before moving on to the next detail, you realized that maybe, just for tonight, you could focus on something good.
Something that was yours. Something that had nothing to do with Jungkook.
——————————
By the time you arrived at the auditorium, everything already felt bigger than you had imagined when the idea first came to you months ago, like something that had slowly grown on its own while you were too busy organizing the details to notice just how far it had gone. The entrance was crowded, not overwhelmingly so but enough to make it clear that people had actually shown up, groups of students talking, laughing, adjusting their outfits, the low hum of anticipation filling the space in a way that made your chest tighten, not with anxiety this time, but with something closer to excitement mixed with disbelief.
Someone at the door stopped you before you could walk in, handing you a small container. “Phones,” they said, like it was the most obvious thing in the world.
You frowned slightly. “Phones?”
“Yeah, we’re collecting them at the entrance,” they explained quickly. “They’ll get them back when they leave.”
You blinked, a little confused, trying to remember if that had been part of the plan. It didn’t sound like something you would have insisted on, especially not for an event like this where people usually wanted to record things, to post, to share, but then again, the last few days had been so chaotic that you had stopped questioning small decisions like that, especially if someone on your group thought it was a good idea.
“…Okay,” you said after a second, handing yours over anyway and grabbing the little number so you could pick it up later. “Sure.”
Hana looked at you as she did the same, raising an eyebrow. “Since when are you this strict?”
“I’m not,” you replied, still a little unsure. “Maybe someone else added it.”
“Control freak behavior,” she teased.
“Please, you think I wanna let go of my new phone now that I signed for a five year payment plan?.”
She laughed, bumping her shoulder lightly against yours as you both walked inside, and whatever confusion you had about the phones disappeared almost immediately when you stepped into the auditorium.
It looked incredible.
The stage was set up better than you expected, lights moving softly across the room, the sound already filling the space as the first performers played, people gathered in small groups near the front, others sitting, some already dancing like the night had been going on for hours instead of just starting. The screen behind the stage displayed the donation count in real time, a number that made your stomach twist slightly when you saw it, not because it was bad, but because it wasn’t quite where you wanted it to be yet.
“Hey,” Hana said, nudging you. “Relax. It just started.”
“I know,” you replied, forcing yourself to look away from the number and focus on everything else. “But this better be perfect.”
“It will,” she said confidently. “Look at this place. It’s amazing.”
You glanced around again, taking it in properly this time, and she wasn’t wrong. People were there, they were enjoying it, the atmosphere was exactly what you had hoped for, easy, fun, something that felt alive. You slowly let yourself fall into it instead of standing on the outside analyzing every detail.
You stayed near the front for a while, listening to the bands, clapping, laughing when someone messed up and played it off like part of the act, talking with people who came up to you to say how much they loved the idea, how excited they were to be part of it. Hana dragged you into the crowd at some point, pulling you along when the music picked up, and you didn’t fight it, letting yourself move with it, letting go of the constant need to check everything.
For a while, it felt normal, good.
When the last band finished and the DJ took over, the energy shifted into something louder, more chaotic in the best way, people filling the space in front of the stage, lights flashing brighter now, the music heavier, easier to lose yourself in. You found yourself laughing again, actually laughing, not the forced kind you had been doing for weeks, but something real, something that didn’t feel weighed down by everything else.
And still your eyes kept drifting back to the screen. The number had gone up, slowly, steadily, but it still wasn’t enough, not yet.
You tried not to focus on it too much, telling yourself there was still time, that people were still arriving, still buying drinks, still donating, that it would get there eventually, but the thought stayed in the back of your mind, persistent, impossible to fully ignore.
“Stop staring at it,” Hana said at one point, catching you again.
“I’m just monitoring.”
She rolled her eyes. “Same thing.”
You smiled faintly, looking away again, forcing yourself to focus on the music, on the people around you, on the fact that this was supposed to be fun, not something you stressed over every second.
And then it changed. At first, you didn’t even notice it properly, just a shift in the crowd, a murmur that moved faster than the music, people turning toward the screen, pointing, reacting to something you couldn’t see yet from where you were standing.
“What?” you asked, frowning slightly.
Hana grabbed your arm, pulling you a little closer. “Look.”
You followed her gaze. The number had jumped. Not a little, not gradually. From three thousand it went straight up to fifty-three thousand.
You blinked, thinking you had read it wrong, but it stayed there, bold and undeniable, the kind of number that didn’t make sense in the context of everything you had been watching all night. “What the hell?” you said under your breath.
Around you, people were reacting the same way, voices overlapping, confusion turning into excitement, into disbelief, the energy in the room shifting again, louder now, sharper.
“Did someone mess with it?” Hana asked.
“I don’t think so,” you replied, even though you had no idea how else to explain it.
Before you could process it further, the music cut out.
The sudden silence felt louder than anything that had come before it, the crowd reacting immediately, some people cheering, others just confused, all eyes turning toward the stage as the lights dimmed slowly, one by one, until the entire room was darker than before, the only glow coming from the stage itself.
“What’s happening?” someone near you whispered.
“I don’t know,” you answered, even though the question wasn’t directed at you.
A single spotlight flickered on. Not on the center of the stage but further back, near the screen. Your breath caught slightly, your body going still before your brain could catch up, something in your chest tightening in a way that felt too familiar, too sudden.
And then you saw him. At first, it didn’t register properly, your mind refusing to connect the image in front of you with the reality of where you were, because it didn’t make sense, because it couldn’t make sense, not here, not like this, not after everything. But he didn’t disappear. He stood there, exactly where the light hit him, like he had always been part of the plan, like this wasn’t completely fucking insane.
Jungkook.
In your event, on your stage.
“Oh my god,” Hana said next to you, her grip tightening on your arm. “Oh my god. Oh my god—”
You didn’t respond. You couldn’t. Because everything that had felt under control just seconds ago had slipped completely out of your hands again, and this time, you had no idea what he was about to do— or why he was even there in the first place.
You couldn’t move. For a few seconds, maybe more, you just stood there, your body completely still while everything around you erupted into noise, the crowd reacting instantly, screams breaking through the space like a wave you couldn’t escape from, people turning, pointing, trying to get closer to the stage, and somehow, in the middle of all that chaos, he found you.
You didn’t even realize he had grabbed a microphone until you heard your name.
“Y/n,” Jungkook said, his voice echoing through the auditorium, a little breathless, a little unsure despite everything else about him looking so composed under the lights. “There’s some things I forgot to say back in Busan.”
Your stomach dropped.
People around you turned immediately, the energy shifting again, curiosity spreading faster than anything else as they followed his gaze straight to you, and suddenly you were no longer just part of the crowd. You were the person he was looking at, the one he was talking to, the one everyone was now moving around, stepping aside without even realizing it, creating a clear path between you and the stage.
“Hana—” you muttered under your breath, gripping her arm slightly.
“What the hell is happening?,” she whispered back, eyes wide, completely frozen in place.
You had not fucking idea.
Jungkook shifted slightly on stage, running a hand through his hair in a way that looked almost nervous, almost human despite the fact that he had just turned your entire event upside down by simply showing up.
He let out a small breath, then— almost as if it was instinct— he started singing.
모르겠어, 이 감정이 뭔지
혹시 여기도 꿈속인 건지
It wasn’t loud. It wasn’t one of those big, dramatic performances meant for a stage like this. It was softer, more stripped down, something that felt almost out of place in the middle of the chaos, and yet somehow, it made the entire room quiet down, the noise fading into something distant as people listened.
Won't you please stay in dreams? Yeah
저기 멀리서 바다가 들려
꿈을 건너서 수풀 너머로
You didn’t move. You didn’t react. You just stood there, your eyes fixed on him, your mind trying to catch up with what was happening, with the fact that he was here, that he was doing this, that he was singing like it was just for you even though there were hundreds of people around.
Close the door now (door now)
When I'm with you, I'm in utopia
And when he finished, the silence lasted just a second before the crowd erupted again. He smiled grateful. Then brought the microphone back up, his expression shifting into something more awkward, more real.
“Okay—” he said, letting out a small, embarrassed laugh. “That was… not what I planned.” The crowd laughed slightly, even if they didn’t know what he meant. “I just—” he started again, then paused, glancing at you, his voice lowering slightly despite still holding the mic. “I wanted to say I’m sorry, Y/n.” The word hung there. He grimaced immediately after saying it, like he regretted doing it that way, like it didn’t feel right. “Wait—no,” he added quickly, shaking his head. “This is weird.”
You let out a short breath, almost a laugh despite everything, because yeah, it was weird. And apparently, he realized it too.
Without another word, he handed the microphone off to someone near the stage and stepped down, the crowd reacting again, parting almost instinctively as he made his way toward you, people whispering, staring, trying to process what was happening just as much as you were.
Jungkook stopped right in front of you.
You just looked at him, a little weird out. He stay quiet for a second, not really sure what to say.
“What?” You finally broke the silence. “You thought you could just come here, sing one of your little songs, and everything would be alright?” you said, your voice low but sharp enough for him to hear.
He blinked. “…Yes—” he said automatically, then immediately shook his head. “No. I mean, no.”
You stared at him. “Yes or no?”
He rubbed the back of his neck, clearly aware of how that sounded. “That came out wrong.”
“You think?” you shot back.
“I panicked,” he admitted.
“You panicked and decided to perform?”
“I didn’t know what else to do,” he said, half-defensive, half-embarrassed. “I’m used to stages.”
“That’s your solution for everything?” you crossed your arms. “Just… sing your way out of it?”
He hesitated. “…Sometimes?”
You let out a breath through your nose, shaking your head. “You’re full of yourself.”
“I know,” he said quickly. “I know, I just— I needed to talk to you.”
You glanced around, gesturing vaguely at the crowd still very much watching. “Like this?”
He followed your gaze, then winced slightly. “…Yeah, okay, fair point.”
“Dude, this is weird,” you added. “You’re doing this in front of everyone I know.”
He nodded immediately. “Yeah. You’re right. Let’s—” he gestured toward the side of the stage, “—not do this here?”
You hesitated for half a second, then turned, walking toward backstage without waiting for him, trusting that he would follow. And of course he did.
The moment you stepped out of sight, the noise dimmed slightly, the walls blocking most of it, leaving behind a quieter space that felt completely disconnected from what had just happened out there.
You turned to him immediately. “What are you doing, Jungkook?” you asked, not even trying to hide it.
He stopped a few steps away from you, his expression shifting completely now that it was just the two of you, the confidence from the stage gone, replaced with something more uncertain, more… real and human.
“I’m fixing it,” he said.
“Fixing what?” you shot back. “Because from where I’m standing, you just made it worse.”
“I know,” he said quickly. “I know, I just— I didn’t think it through, I just needed to see you and—”
“And what?” you interrupted. “Apologize in front of a crowd?”
He exhaled, running a hand through his hair again. “No. Not like that. I just… I didn’t want you to think that what I said— what happened— was real.”
You frowned slightly. “What?”
“The live,” he clarified. “What I said about army. That wasn’t about you. It wasn’t— I wasn’t talking about you like that.”
You crossed your arms tighter. “You made me look like I was your fan.”
“I know,” he admitted. “And I’m sorry for that. I knew you wouldn’t fuck with that and I still did it and— I should’ve been clearer, I should’ve— I don’t know, handled it better. Everything, actually. The NDA shit I said, the way I talked to you, the way I let things go after… I messed it up.” You stayed quiet. “I don’t want to be that person,” he continued, his voice softer now. “The one you think I am. The one that made you lie just to protect me.”
That made something in your chest shift slightly, but you didn’t let it show. “You didn’t make me do anything,” you said.
“I did,” he insisted. “Maybe not directly, but I did. And I hate that. I hate that the most.” There was a pause. “And I’m sorry,” he added, quieter this time. “I’m really sorry, Y/n.”
You looked at him for a second longer, searching his face, trying to find something that didn’t feel rehearsed, something that didn’t feel like it belonged to the version of him everyone else saw.
“You really thought this was a good idea?” you asked finally, nodding slightly toward the stage.
He let out a small, embarrassed laugh. “No. Not really.”
“Good.”
“But I needed to do something,” he added. “I couldn’t just let it stay like that.”
You sighed, some of the tension easing out of your shoulders despite yourself. “You could’ve just called.”
“I tried,” he said.
You frowned. “…You didn’t.”
“I didn’t have your number,” he corrected. “I send you a dm on Instagram.”
“Oh…” That made you pause. “Well I had to delete the app” you added, your tone shifting slightly. “You know, it wasn’t really fun to go around there anymore after those leaked pictures.”
His expression softened immediately. “I’m sorry about that. You didn’t deserve any of it.”
“I know,” you said simply. You let out a small breath, shaking your head slightly. “Honestly, all this is insane.”
“I know,” Jungkook looked at you. “I’m sorry.”
“You just said that.”
“Because I am.” A beat of silence passed, softer now, less sharp than before. “And for the record,” he added, his voice quieter, “I need you to know that I meant what I said. I like you.” You looked at him. “You are not ordinary at all. You’re real,” he continued. “You’re smart, you’re beautiful, you’re funny. You’re annoyingly honest, really frustrating sometimes because you wanna argue about everything and think you know more than anyone else. And you suck at directions—“”
“I thought this was a love confession…”
Jungkook smiled. “I really like you. A lot. And I really like me when I’m with you.” You blinked, caught off guard by how direct he was being. “And I’d really like to take you out,” he added, a small smile tugging at his lips. “Properly this time. Even if I have to tell the whole world about it.”
You let out a short laugh, shaking your head. “Oh no. Please let’s not do that. You were absolutely right about your world,” you said, looking at him with a small, incredulous smile. “I fucking hate it. Everything.”
He laughed too, the tension breaking completely now. “Yeah… fair.”
There was a brief silence.
“Look, Jungkook.” You sighed. “I really like you too but I don’t think there’s a way this could work if—”
“I’ll make it work,” he said immediately, without really hearing the excuse you were trying to say. “Whatever you want, I’ll make it work.”
“But…”
“Do you like me?” he asked, now more confident.
“Jungkook—”
“Do you?”
“Of course I like you but—”
“Then that’s enough,” he said firmly. “I’ll make it work.” He said firmer. Because he will, he was going to make it work anyway with any sort. He liked you that much to just not fight for whatever was going on between you two.
“But—”
He stepped closer.
And this time, there was no hesitation. He reached for you to shut you up, his hand finding your waist, pulling you in with a kind of certainty that hadn’t been there before, not like this, not after everything that had happened.
And when he kissed you, it wasn’t rushed or uncertain, it was intentional, slow at first, like he was making sure you were really there, like he wasn’t going to mess this up again. And that made every doubt in your head disappear. You couldn’t really think of any bad thing when he was kissing you like that. Your hands moved up to his shoulders, then to his neck, pulling him closer, the space between you disappearing completely as the kiss deepened, warmer, heavier, something that carried everything you hadn’t said yet, everything that had been left unfinished before.
He let out a quiet breath against your lips, his hand tightening slightly at your waist, grounding himself in the moment, in you, like that was the only thing that made sense after all the chaos.
When you pulled back, it wasn’t by much. “Do you know how much I hate getting interrupted?” you murmured.
Jungkook smiled slightly. “I’ll learn.” He tilted his head slightly, still close. “You have to go on a date with me so I can learn what else you don’t like.”
“I don’t like you.”
He hummed, his fingers pinching your skin. “You see? Now I know you’re a bad liar.”
You let out a small laugh. “Shut up,” you rolled your eyes. “I can’t believe you donated fifty thousand. You’re insane, dude.”
“I needed to pay for your grandma’s car,” he made a grimaced. “And please stop calling me ‘dude’, I’m literally trying to date you.”
You ignored his last comment. “No, that’s totally different. This is a fundraiser, dude. You still own me for that and the $1005.”
“Well, go on a date with me and I’ll send the money right now.”
You laughed, throwing your head back slightly with a smile, pretending to think before looking back at him. “Well, if I have to—”
“Shut up, you’ll love it.” His smile widened slightly, relief clear in his expression. “Oh! And I forgot.” He grabbed some sunglasses from his jacket to put them on you. “I told you I’ll give them to you.”
You giggled, fixing them. “How do I look?”
Jungkook gave you a quick peck, his bunny smile showing. “Like a superstar.”
And just as he leaned in again—
“OH MY GOD.”
You both pulled apart instantly. Hana stood at the entrance of the backstage area, staring at the two of you like she had just witnessed something life-altering, her eyes wide, her mouth slightly open, completely frozen in place.
You blinked. “Hana—” She didn’t move, didn’t blink, probably didn’t even breathe. “This is Jungkook,” you started, turning slightly toward him, then back to her. “Jungkook, this is my sister—”
“I know— Jungkook— He…”
Then she dropped, completely. You stared at her on the floor for a second.
“…Did she just faint?”
Jungkook looked just as stunned. “…I think she did.”
You sighed, running a hand over your face. “Oh, my god!”
He started freaking too. “What should we do?!”
“I don’t know!,” you started panicking, crouching down next to her. “Call a medic or something!— Don’t make that face! Jungkook you better not be calling Taehyung and Jimin because I swear to God—”
Maybe you and Jungkook weren’t so different. After all you both were undeniably and completely idiots.
——————————
[Campus Buzz – Student Blog]
“Massive charity event ends in chaos after ‘mystery guest’ appearance.”
Attendees claim a “very famous figure” (member of korean-group BTS) appeared on stage during last night’s university fundraiser, causing a spike in donations that exceeded expectations. With phones collected at the entrance, no footage exists, leaving the internet divided between disbelief and full conspiracy mode.
[K-Pop Insider Forum Thread]
“Was Jungkook in Europe last night???”
User claims their friend attended a university event where “someone who looked exactly like him” performed briefly before disappearing backstage with a girl. No videos, no proof… just rumours. Fans argue whether it’s him or just another lookalike myth.
[Entertainment Gossip Account]
“Dispatch misses again?!”
After recent dating rumors involving BTS’s Jungkook, new whispers suggest he was spotted overseas at a private event in the University where Y/n Y/l/n (girl who was rumoured to be involved with him back in Busan is attending) attends. No official confirmation. No photos. Just a lot of students confirming this.
[Local News Snippet]
“Unexpected donation surge raises questions.”
A student-led fundraiser exceeded its goal by a significant margin after an anonymous contribution pushed totals beyond €80,000 by the end of the night. Organizers declined to comment on the source.
——————————
weverse/twitter:
mnijungkook: this is getting absolutely crazy. with all this big rumours maybe i should start dating this person
yourname: bts lowkey flops
i might forgotten to add a lot of people to the taglist but i try my best i swear😔🙏🏼
summary: you have a pretty normal life as a college student. Everything changes one spring break when you visit Korea to see some family and your sister decides to drag you along to stalk the famous pop-star Jeon Jungkook, part of the most famous group in the world — the one you despise— and the one you unexpectedly keep running into.
pairing: uni student! reader x idol! jeon jungkook
genre: rom-com. annoyances-to-lovers. fluff. trynna-be-comedy. a lil angst but not really. | reader is really annoying sometimes. jungkook can be an asshole but he’s still a cutie pie. reader has a sister lowkey sasaeng but thanks to her the story has a plot!! 97line mentioned. jimin and tae appearance in the first part!!.
warning!— this story contains mature content. smut (fingering, dry humping, penetration, unprotected sex, dirty talk, creampie, etc). — second part SFW
author’s note: second part is here!! hope u enjoy this one. has a lot more of banter and its very cutesy hehe >_< part 3 (final part) coming next week!!
word count: +14k words
part one; part two; part three.
This was a very bad idea
Getting Jungkook inside your house felt illegal.
Not in an actual you’re-going-to-jail way but in that very specific, very personal way where your brain keeps repeating this is a bad idea while your body just keeps moving anyway. The house was quiet, thankfully, the quiet that meant your parents and great grandparents were already asleep, lights off, everything still, and for a moment you just stood there by the door with Jungkook behind you, both of you listening like you were about to get caught doing something criminal.
“…Why are we being so quiet?” he whispered.
“I told you to shut up,” you whispered back immediately. “If they know I’m sneaking someone they’ll kill me.” You shook your head. “And my sister will literally jump out on you.”
Jungkook pressed his lips together for a second. “She’s a big fun, huh.”
“Big is an understatement.”
“Really?”
“Just shut up and keep walking.”
You didn’t wait for him to respond, just turned and started heading down the hallway, barefoot, careful, trying to remember which floorboard made noise and which didn’t, like you had suddenly lived there your whole life. He followed close behind, surprisingly quiet for someone who had spent the last few hours doing too much.
When you reached your room, you pushed the door open slowly and slipped inside, gesturing for him to do the same before closing it behind you with a soft click.
There was a silence, a real weird silence. You both just stood there for a second, looking at each other.
“Okay,” you said finally, turning the light on. “This is my room while I stay here.”
He looked around, taking it in with quiet curiosity— the bed, your stuff thrown in a big suitcase, the slightly old bed and furniture. He could tell it wasn’t your place but your family house. He wondered for a second how your real home would look like.
“Nice,” he said.
“Don’t get too comfortable.”
“I’m definitely not.”
You rolled your eyes, already moving toward the closet and pulling out extra blankets, tossing them onto the floor next to your bed without much ceremony. “You’re sleeping there.”
He looked down. “…On the floor.”
“Yes.”
He glanced at the bed then back at you. “…There’s space.”
“Don’t push it.”
“Worth a try,” he smiled innocently.
“Was it?”
“No.” You grabbed a pillow and threw it at him. He caught it easily, looking mildly impressed. “Stop being so aggressive.”
“You’re welcome,” you ignored his comment.
“Yeah, thanks a lot.” He said sarcastically.
You crouched down, fixing the blankets into something that vaguely resembled a bed, your movements slower now that the exhaustion was finally catching up with you. Your head still hurt, not sharply anymore, just a dull reminder that the night had been real and not some weird fever dream.
Behind you, he cleared his throat slightly.
“Hey.”
You didn’t look up. “What.”
“Do you have anything I can wear tomorrow?”
“What do you mean?”
“Like… something to cover my face,” he said, gesturing vaguely. “So I don’t get recognized.”
You looked up at him slowly. “Are you serious?”
“Very.”
You stared at him for a second longer before standing up, walking over to the drawer and pulling it open, digging around for a moment before grabbing something and tossing it at him.
He caught it, looked at it for a second and then looked back at you. “A pink hat.”
You crossed your arms. “Now you owe me one thousand… and five dollars.”
He let out a small laugh, turning the hat in his hands. “It’s… very pink. And it says ‘flop’.”
You had bought it back in your country in a drunk thrift shopping night. A long story you didn’t want to share with him.
“You want a purple one?”
“I’m not sure about that,” he smirked. “Purple is a very us colour.”
Of course.
You looked at him with boredom. “Great. Stay with the pink one then.”
He sighed. “Okay...”
There was a brief pause as he put it on, then glanced toward the door, like he could somehow see through it.
“Is this all necessary?” you asked, leaning back against the drawer. “The whole hiding thing.”
He looked at you like the answer should’ve been obvious. “Yes.” You raised an eyebrow. “They’re everywhere.”
“Paranoid,” you sang mockingly.
“Whatever,” he shook his head slightly, sitting down on the makeshift bed on the floor. “You wouldn’t get it.”
You didn’t even hesitate. “You’re right. I wouldn’t. I’m not a superstar.”
That shut him up for a second, your voice being so mean made him rolled his eyes. The energy in the room shifted a little but you didn’t notice.
Probably you didn’t care either.
You changed into something more comfortable, not bothering to hide, just turning your back and pulling off your hoodie, swapping it for a loose t-shirt, kicking off your socks and climbing into bed like the night had finally decided to end. He stayed quiet while you did, adjusting the blanket around himself and pretending he wasn’t looking your naked skin the second you took off your hoodie. It wasn’t like you were showing him your tits anyway, he didn’t feel guilty to have a look at your naked back.
The room settled into something softer, calmer, the chaos of everything before slowly fading into something that almost felt normal when you both got comfortable into each of your blankets.
“Hey,” he said after a moment.
You didn’t bother to look at him “What?”
“Thanks— You know… for not leaving me outside.”
You shrugged lightly, staring up at the ceiling. “I’m doing it for the money.”
“That’s not why you did it,” he chuckled, knowing it wasn’t true. “I haven’t pay you yet.”
“I trust a person who has the money to pay me will pay me,” you sighed. “I still have faith in humanity.”
He smiled a little at that, even if you weren’t looking. “I will.”
You didn’t say anything back. Silence filled the room again but this time it didn’t feel awkward.
He didn’t fall asleep immediately. You noticed it because you didn’t either.
At first you thought he had, he was quiet, lying on his back on the floor, one arm tucked under his head, the other resting over his stomach like he didn’t really know what to do with himself. The blanket you gave him barely covered anything, and the pink hat was still on his head, slightly tilted, which should have looked ridiculous, but somehow didn’t. You were facing the ceiling too, hands folded over your stomach, eyes open in the dark.
It was quiet in a way that felt almost staged. Like if either of you moved too much, the whole thing would break.
A few seconds passed. Then minutes and minutes. You decided to turn around after what it felt like a long hour, looking if he finally found some sleep that you couldn’t. You found him in a weird position that made you snort quietly. He was lying on his back with his hands in his shoulders like a damn corpse.
“Do you always sleep like that?”
Your voice came out quieter than you expected.
There was a small pause before he answered, like he was checking if you were actually talking to him. He looked up at you.
“Like what?”
“Like you’re in a hospital bed.”
There was pause. You watched the faint shift of fabric while he moved his hands more comfortably, now watching you. Only half of your face was he able to see. “I didn’t realize I was that stiff.”
“You are,” you mumbled. “It was a little concerning.”
He let out a small breath that almost turned into a laugh, but not fully. “Do you always comment on how people sleep?”
“Only when they look like they were about to be pronounced dead.”
That time, he did laugh, a little quiet and short.
Silence settled again, but it was different now, less sharp, less forced and awkward.
You turned your body slightly to the corner of the bed, just enough to look at him better. He was back staring at the ceiling. “Were you actually comfortable?” you asked after a moment.
“I’ve slept in worse places.”
“Like?”
“Cars, waiting rooms, practice rooms, airports…”
“Airports sound miserable.”
“They were… they are.”
There was something in the way he said it, not dramatic, not complaining, just factual. You shifted a little on your bed, pulling the blanket closer around yourself.
“Airports I get. Cars?” you frowned slightly. “Why?”
“Schedules. Filming runs late, you go somewhere else early. It’s not worth going home.”
“That sounds… horrible.”
“It’s not great.”
“Do you at least get like— actual sleep sometimes?”
“Sometimes,” he said. “When I don’t have anything the next day.”
“So…”
“So pretty much never,” he laughed quietly.
You smiled a little to yourself, eyes still on him. “Ever get used to your sleep schedule?”
“Weirdly yes. Now that we’ll start tour soon it might get a little difficult but we’ll handle it,” he said with confidence.
You found it really… endearing the way he was talking in plural. The group clearly had a good relationship, you couldn’t argue about that. Not that you have tried much after they proved you wrong by doing their comeback— when you spent years telling your sister they were going to pull a one direction stunt— they clearly got along very well.
You only hummed at that, not really interested in that subject since you already knew too much about that tour because of your sister.
Another small silence filled the room.
“What about you?” he suddenly asked.
You frowned slightly. “What about me?”
“Do you have a good sleep schedule?”
You snorted slightly at that. Was he trying to make conversation? Because it was pretty bad. You didn’t want to be more mean so you just answered naturally.
“Sometimes,” you admitted. “I’m a senior in college so sometimes I don’t sleep at all. Probably not as bad as yours.”
He hummed, thoughtful. “What are you studying?.”
“Film.”
“Do you like it?”
The question was simple, but it landed heavier than expected. “…Yeah,” you said, but slower this time. “I do.”
“Just ‘yeah’?”
You hesitated, then shifted onto your other side, facing the wall and not him. “I mean— it’s not like I have some big dramatic passion speech or anything,” you said. “I just… like it. I like stories, I like how things are put together. I like noticing things people don’t usually notice.” You paused, then added quieter, “It makes sense to me.”
There was a beat. “That sounds like more than just ‘yeah.’”
You huffed softly. “Don’t make it deep.”
“I wasn’t.”
“You were.”
“I was really not.” You rolled your eyes, even though he couldn’t see it. “Okay, maybe a little.” He shifted slightly on the floor, turning his head toward your back. “What kind of films do you like?”
“Depends.”
“On?”
“On my mood. On the day. On whether I wanted to feel something or not feel anything at all.”
“That’s very specific.”
“It’s true.”
He hummed softly, like he was actually thinking about it. “Do you make them too? Or just study?”
“I do both.” You paused. “Well… try to.”
“Try?”
“Turns out making films is harder than sitting in a classroom talking about them.”
“I can imagine.”
“And people are annoying,” you added. “Group projects are a nightmare.”
He let out a quiet laugh. “That I can definitely imagine.”
You smiled a little without meaning to. “What about you?” you asked after a second. “Do you still like it?”
“Music?”
“Yeah.”
There was a small pause again, but not uncomfortable. “Yeah,” he said, echoing your tone from before, “I do.”
“Just ‘yeah’?”
You heard the faintest hint of a smile in his voice. “Don’t make it deep.”
You huffed. “God, you are annoying.”
“I’ve been told.”
A small silence stretched between you, softer this time, almost… comfortable. “No, but seriously,” you said after a moment. “Do you?”
He exhaled slowly. “I do,” he repeated, a little quieter. “It’s just… different now.”
“What do you mean?”
“I don’t know. It’s just is,” he didn’t explain much. “But I still love it.”
You nodded slightly, even though he couldn’t see. “When you were singing earlier,” you said, before you could overthink it, “I think everyone could tell you love it.” There was a pause. You immediately regretted saying it. You stared at the ceiling now, suddenly very aware of your own words. “I mean— not in a weird way,” you added quickly. “Just— like… you looked normal— Like it’s your thing, you know?. Not like… this whole different thing.”
Smooth. Really smooth.
You squeezed your eyes shut briefly, waiting for him to make fun of you, but Jungkook didn’t laugh.
“That was when it felt normal,” he said instead. “I like it when is my thing.” You opened your eyes again. “When I sing or work on something related to music.” He took a small pause, thinking about his words. “That is the only time it doesn’t feel… loud.”
You didn’t fully understand what he meant, but you got it enough. “That makes sense.”
Silence again.
“…Do you want to direct?”
“Oh, we’re back to me?.”
Jungkook snorted. “I’m just curious,” he said softly.
You huffed. “Eventually,” you admitted. “Or write. Or both. I don’t know yet.”
“You will.”
You moved around to glanced down at him. “That sounded very confident.”
“It is.”
“You don’t even know me.”
“You sound like you know what you like,” he said simply. “That’s already more than most people.”
You didn’t answer right away. “Maybe,” you said eventually. “What about you?” you asked. “Did you always want to do this?”
There was a small pause before he answered. “No.”
You raised an eyebrow slightly, a little surprised, even though he couldn’t see. “No?”
“No.” He shifted a little on the floor. “I like music, but I didn’t think it would be… this. There was a time I just wanted to quit and become a dancer.”
“What did you think it would be?”
“I didn’t think that far,” he admitted. “It just kind of happened, I was a kid when I joined the company.”
“That’s insane.”
“Why?”
“Because people spend their whole lives planning things and you just— fell into it?”
“I didn’t just fall into it,” he said, a hint of a smile in his voice. “There was a lot of work involved.”
“Okay, fair. But still.” You paused. “…Do you ever wish it didn’t get this big?”
The question came out more casual than it felt. Jungkook didn’t answer immediately.
“Sometimes,” he said.
You nodded slightly. “That makes sense.”
“But,” he added after a second, “I wouldn’t undo it.”
You glanced at him again. “Not even a little?”
“Maybe a little,” he said, and you could hear the smile now. “But not enough to actually change it.”
You huffed softly. “That’s such a PR answer.”
“It’s my answer.”
You wondered how many times he practiced that answer. Or if you had ever judge him thinking he was just lying for the public. You didn’t know the real answer, but because there was no cameras and he was sleeping on your bedroom’s floor, you decided to believe it was his answer for the first time.
“Okay then.” There was the silence again. This time it stretched longer, but it didn’t feel awkward, just normal. You adjusted your pillow slightly. “Do you always talk this much to strangers?” you asked.
“Do you?”
“I asked first.”
He let out a quiet laugh. “No, I don’t,” he said after a second. “I don’t usually sleep on stranger’s floor either.”
“Yeah, I don’t usually let famous guys sleep on my floor either..”
“So this is weird.”
“A little.”
“Okay, good. We’re finally on the same page. It only took like nine hours of forced proximity.”
You smiled faintly. He was funny for that. “I think it’s the concussion,” you added, joining to the joke.
“You don’t have a concussion.”
“Allegedly.”
“That’s not how that works.”
“You don’t know that.”
“I do, actually.”
“Are you a doctor now?”
“I’ve been around enough to know basic things.”
You let out a small laugh, softer this time. “Yeah? Like your friends?”
He pressed his lip together, trying not to laugh. “I’m sure they tried their best.”
“Oh, I’m sure too.”
He finally let a chuckle out.
Silence followed again, slower now. Sleepier. The night was already becoming dawn. You couldn’t help the feeling of being about to pass out of tiredness. But, surprisingly, you still wanted to talk to him.
“What do you even do when you’re not working?” you asked, voice quieter.
“Nothing exciting.”
“Define that.”
“Stay home. Watch stuff, cook, play video-games, sleep.”
“That’s it?”
“That’s it.”
“That’s so boring.”
“It’s peaceful.”
“Okay, yeah, fair. Maybe with a life like yours.” You shifted slightly, trying not to close your eyes. “What do you watch?”
“Anything, really.”
“Bad answer,” you muttered. “I’m a film major, come on. Do better.”
“It’s true.”
“Give me something specific.”
He exhaled softly, thinking. “Movies, mostly. Sometimes documentaries.”
You perked up slightly. “Documentaries about what?”
“Random things,” he said. “I watched one about deep sea creatures last week.”
“Why?”
“I don’t know,” he said, a hint of amusement in his voice. “They looked weird.”
“That’s your reasoning to watch documentaries?”
“They were interesting.”
You shook your head lightly. “That’s such a guy answer.”
“What does that mean?”
“Nothing.”
“No, explain.”
“I won’t.”
“Coward.” You smiled into your pillow. Silence settled again, heavier now. Your eyes were starting to close between sentences. “You’re gonna fall asleep,” he said quietly.
“No, I’m not.”
“You are.”
“I’m literally talking.”
“Barely.”
You huffed softly. “You too,” you mumbled.
“Probably.” He paused for a second. “…Hey,” he said after a moment.
“Mm?”
“Thanks.”
You frowned slightly, eyes still closed. “For what?”
“For not making this weird.”
You let out a quiet breath. “It is weird.”
“Yeah, but… not in a bad way.”
You thought about that for a second. “I guess,” you admitted.
There was another pause.
“…And for the hat,” he finally added.
That made you smile, even with your eyes closed. “That’s $1005, dude.”
He let out a quiet laugh. “Right, I forgot.”
“Inflation. I need that money.”
“Obviously.”
You shifted slightly under your blanket, suddenly more aware of how late it was. How weird this whole situation was but how it didn’t feel as weird as it should.
“Don’t snore,” you whispered almost faintly.
“I don’t snore.”
“You look like you snore.”
“That’s rude.”
“…Goodnight, Jungkook.”
Silence settled one last time. Neither of you spoke again. And somewhere between one slow breath, the conversation faded out, and you both fell asleep. You didn’t realize you were ending the night with the guy you didn’t want to see even in pictures not long that fifteen hours ago.
——————————
The next morning didn’t start very calm.
It started with banging. Loud, aggressive, completely unnecessary banging that echoed through your door like someone was trying to break it down, followed immediately by your sister’s voice, already way too awake for the hour.
“Wake up!”
You groaned into your pillow, barely even conscious, one arm thrown over your head as if that would somehow block both the noise and her existence. “Go away,” you mumbled, your voice muffled and thick with sleep, not even bothering to open your eyes. “It’s too early.”
More banging.
“It’s eleven in the morning. Get up! We need to talk!”
“We don’t,” you muttered, turning your face further into the pillow. “Go away.”
“I have the key!”
“Uhm”
There was a pause, it was brief, but suspiciously quiet— and then you heard the doorknob.
Your eyes snapped open.
Wait…
Oh my god, Jungkook.
You shot up halfway in bed, heart jumping straight into your throat. “Wait! Don’t—” you started, already turning toward the floor, toward where he had been…
But there was nothing there.
The blanket was folded— badly, but still folded— and the space where he had slept was empty. You blinked slowly. He was gone. He had actually left. Just like he said he would.
Thank God.
“…What are you doing?” your sister asked, already halfway inside your room, looking at you like you’d just sat up from a nightmare.
You stared at the empty spot for a second longer before letting yourself drop back over the bed, exhaling slowly, the tension leaving your body all at once in a way that almost made you feel ridiculous. Relief settled in instead. You were glad he left before everyone woke up. You didn’t have to sneak him out there, you didn’t need your sister screaming your house down because Jeon Jungkook had been sleeping on your floor.
That was great.
“Nothing,” you said, running a hand through your hair, trying to make yourself look less like you’d just been caught hiding something. “Why are you breaking my door?”
“I’ve been calling you for like ten minutes!” She shot back, walking fully into the room now, hands on her hips. “And you weren’t answering your phone, and you weren’t in the living room, and you weren’t anywhere—”
“I was sleeping,” you cut in, sitting down. “Crazy concept.”
She ignored that completely. “You left me yesterday,” she said instead, narrowing her eyes. “At the concert. Alone.”
“I didn’t leave you,” you said, already dragging a hand over your face. “You went inside. I stayed outside. That was the plan.”
“The plan was for you to wait!”
“I did wait.”
“For how long?”
“Long enough.”
She stared at you. You stared back. “You’re lying.”
“I’m not lying,” you said, which was technically not entirely true, but close enough to survive the conversation. “I got bored, I went to eat, and then—” you paused, touching your forehead instinctively, “—I had a small accident.”
Her expression changed immediately. “Oh, it was true?”
“It was a small accident,” you repeated. “Very small. Almost impressively small.”
She stepped closer without even thinking, grabbing your chin lightly to tilt your face toward the light. “What did you do?”
“I walked into something.”
“You walked into something?”
“It came out of nowhere.”
“A wall doesn’t come out of nowhere.”
“It wasn’t a wall,” you said. “It was… more like a pole situation.”
She blinked at you. “A pole?”
“Yeah.”
“How do you hit a pole?”
“I don’t know, it just happened.”
She squinted, clearly not believing a single word of it, but her attention shifted when she noticed the small bandage on your forehead, her fingers hovering near it before gently pressing around the area. “Did you go to a hospital?”
“Yeah, just a small one,” you said. “I got dizzy, they checked me, I’m fine. No concussion, unfortunately.”
She frowned slightly, still inspecting you like you might fall apart if she looked away for too long. “Are you sure you’re okay?”
“Am I ever?.”
“Girl,” she gave you a look.
“I’m okay,” you said, a little softer this time. “Really.”
She studied you for another second before finally stepping back, her shoulders relaxing just a little.
“You’re so stupid,” she muttered, but there was no real bite behind it now.
“That’s why you know we’re related.”
A small pause settled between you, and then, like a switch flipping, her entire expression shifted.
“…I got in yesterday,” she said. You closed your eyes briefly. Of course. “I got in,” she repeated, louder this time, like you hadn’t heard her the first time. “Like, inside-inside. Front area.”
You groaned, dragging your hands down your face. “We had a deal.”
“I know, I know,” she waved it off, already pacing a little as she spoke. “I’m just saying, just one thing—”
“No.”
“Just one—”
“No.”
“You’re so annoying.”
“It was a deal.”
She rolled her eyes dramatically, but that didn’t stop her. “I didn’t see them that much up close,” she continued anyway, clearly incapable of stopping herself. “Only the last song, because security was— whatever— but still, like, they were right there. And Jungkook—” You gave her a look. She ignored you. “God, he was just so amazing,” she said quickly, holding up her hands when you groaned. “I’m just— making an observation.”
“No observations.”
“He sounds insane,” she added anyway.
You opened your mouth to make your usual mean comment about him but suddenly stop. You pressed your lips together. Because you realized that the annoying part was… She wasn’t wrong.
You didn’t say anything, but your expression shifted just slightly, something small and involuntary, and she caught it immediately.
“…What?,” she narrowed her eyes.
“I’m choosing peace,” you said. “I’m not fighting anymore.”
“That’s suspicious.”
“It’s giving up.”
“That’s even more suspicious.”
You rolled your eyes, pushing yourself off the bed. “Can we not do this right now? I just woke up, I have a head injury, and you’re being loud.”
“You don’t have a head injury, you walked into a pole.”
“That’s still an injury.”
She opened her mouth to argue, but before she could, a voice echoed from down the hall.
“Breakfast!”
Both of you look at each other.
“We should go before she comes here,” your sister said quickly.
“Agreed.”
You followed her out of the room, still half asleep, your body moving on autopilot as you made your way to the kitchen, the smell of food waking you up just enough to function. You barely had time to enter the living room and your sister was already reaching for the remote, turning on the TV like it was part of her morning routine. Hearing news for breakfast.
You didn’t pay attention at first, too focused on what would be for breakfast, but then—
“Oh my God.”
You looked up. She was frozen, staring at the screen.
“What?” you asked, frowning.
You followed her gaze and immediately felt your stomach drop.
On the screen, a reporter stood in front of a building you recognized instantly, the HYBE logo visible behind them as she spoke animatedly, a headline flashing across the bottom.
“…last night after the event, member of global group BTS, Jungkook, was reportedly seen leaving the after-party accompanied by an unidentified girl…”
You froze for a second.
“What?” your sister said, grabbing the remote and turning up the volume.
“…sources claim the two exited together and got into the same vehicle, sparking speculation among fans…”
“That’s insane,” you said quickly, reaching for the remote. “This is obviously fake. Turn it off.”
“What are you doing?” she pulled it away from you. “Wait. I want to listen!”
“It’s not real,” you insisted, trying to grab it again. “They literally make things up all the time—”
“Let me hear!”
“Give it—”
You both struggled for the remote, hands pushing, pulling, then falling into the sofa while the volume going up and down randomly as the reporter kept talking in the background.
“Girls,” your great grandmother’s voice cut through the chaos. You both froze. She stood next to the doorway, arms crossed, looking at the two of you like she’d seen this exact scene a hundred times before. “Sit,” she said simply. “And eat.”
You slowly let go of the remote. Your sister did the same, though much more reluctantly, her eyes still glued to the screen like it might disappear if she looked away too long.
“What’s wrong with you?,” she whispered
“What do you mean?”
“You’re acting weird.”
You huffed and walked to the kitchen. “No, I’m not,” you muttered.
You didn’t look at the TV again.
——————————
The next three days passed in a way that almost made you forget you were soon to be over with your little break.
Almost.
Your sister, surprisingly and suspiciously, kept her promise. No random BTS facts, no sudden “did you know—” interruptions, no videos shoved in your face at full volume. It was quiet. Peaceful, even. Which should have felt like a victory, but instead felt more like the calm before something very specific and very annoying.
Still, you didn’t question it. You enjoyed it as much as you could.
You spent those days the way you were supposed to, like a normal family visit. Long lunches that stretched into late afternoons, your great-grandmother telling stories you were only half listening to but still somehow enjoying, your parents relaxing in a way you didn’t usually see back home. You walked around the neighborhood, helped in the kitchen once or twice (badly), and even let your sister drag you out at night to some club, which turned into one of those chaotic, slightly messy outings where you both ended up too drunk and with new friends. It was… nice. Fun. Something you had been wanting to do for so long with her that actually didn’t feel real.
Which was exactly why you didn’t notice what she was doing.
At least, not at first. It started small, with casual mentions, perfectly timed, almost strategic.
“Busan is really pretty this time of year,” she had said at breakfast one morning, not even looking up from her phone.
No one reacted.
Later that day, while your great-grandmother was sitting in the living room, she brought it up again. “Didn’t you say you had a friend there? Near the beach?”
That got a reaction. Your great-grandmother looked up, thoughtful, and just like that, your sister had her opening.
By the second day, it wasn’t subtle anymore.
“Have we ever been there? I don’t remember,” she added over dinner, sighing dramatically. “It would be so nice to go, even just for the weekend.”
You glanced at her. She didn’t look back. You narrowed your eyes slightly.
Oh, she was working.
And she was good at it.
Your parents, on the other hand, were not convinced. You could see it in the way they exchanged looks, in the hesitant answers, in the classic “we’ll think about it” that really meant probably not. It should’ve ended there.
But then your great-grandmother stepped in.
“Well,” she said casually, as if she hadn’t been listening to the entire thing unfold, “there’s no harm in a short trip. They’re not children.” Your sister didn’t even try to hide the way she straightened slightly, like she’d just won something. “They’ll be fine,” your great-grandmother continued. “And I can call my friend, she still has that cabin near the beach. It’s small, but perfect for a couple of days.”
Your parents hesitated. Your sister held her breath and then the decision was final.
“Okay,” your mom said, slowly. “But you both be careful.”
That was it. That was all it took.
You didn’t even have time to process it before your sister turned to you, eyes practically shining. “We’re going to Busan.”
You stared at her. “We… we?”
“Yes, we.”
You leaned back in your chair slightly, crossing your arms. “You didn’t even ask me before this.”
“I’m asking you now.”
“That’s not how that works.”
“It is when the answer is obviously yes.”
You scoffed. “You’re very confident.”
“It’s a beach trip,” she said. “Cabin, ocean, weekend away from everything. You’re not saying no to that.”
You opened your mouth to argue and immediately paused. She wasn’t wrong. How could you say not to that?
“Fine,” you muttered. “But I’m not driving.”
“I am driving,” she said immediately and obviously. “You don’t even have a license here.”
“Oh, right.”
She grinned. And just like that, the weekend was decided.
Friday morning came too early.
You were barely awake when she dragged you out of bed, already dressed, already moving, already running on a level of energy that should not exist before sunrise. You, on the other hand, moved like someone who had been personally wronged by the concept of mornings, throwing clothes into a bag half-blind and hoping for the best.
“You’re taking forever,” she complained from the doorway.
“I’m functioning at the speed of my will to live,” you muttered, zipping your bag.
“Hurry the fuck up!.”
“Let me be.”
The car was packed quickly and before you fully registered what was happening, you were on the road, the early morning quiet stretching out in front of you. Your sister took the driver’s seat like she was ready to get there as fast as she could, hands steady on the wheel, music playing softly in the background.
The first hour was quiet. The second less so. By the third, you had stopped twice, once for coffee, once because she insisted she was “getting bored” and needed a break, which made no sense considering she was the one driving.
“You’re the one who wanted this trip,” you pointed out, leaning against the car as she stretched dramatically.
“I still do,” she said. “I just don’t want to fall asleep at the wheel.”
“You’ve had three coffees.”
“That’s barely anything.”
“That’s concerning.”
She ignored you.
The rest of the drive blurred together, long stretches of road, occasional conversations that started and died without much effort, music playing, silence filling the gaps in a way that didn’t feel awkward. At some point, you rested your head against the window, watching the scenery change slowly, the air shifting, the feeling of the city fading the further you got.
By the time you arrived, you felt it
That difference of weather and vibe.
The cabin was exactly what your great-grandmother had promised. Small, simple, but beautiful in a quiet, effortless way. It sat a little away from everything, surrounded by greenery, the sound of the ocean faint but present in the distance.
An older woman greeted you at the door, her smile warm and familiar in a way that made it clear she already knew exactly who you were. “You must be her granddaughters,” she said, stepping aside to let you in. “She told me you might come.”
Your sister immediately switched into polite mode, smiling brightly, introducing both of you like she hadn’t spent the last five hours complaining about the drive. You followed along, quieter, taking in the space, the details, the way everything felt lived in, cared for.
It didn’t take long before you were settled. Bags dropped, shoes off, windows opened.
“We should go to the beach,” your sister said, already halfway out the door again.
“We just got here.”
“Exactly. Perfect timing.”
You stared at her and she stared back.
“…You’re not going to sit down, are you?”
“No.”
You sighed. “Give me five minutes.”
——————————
The beach wasn’t far.
A short drive, a small parking area, barely any people around. It was quieter than you expected, the kind of place that didn’t attract crowds, just a few scattered figures in the distance, the sound of waves steady and constant. Summer wasn’t yet there so the place wasn’t crowded at all.
You stepped out of the car, stretching slightly, taking in the view, the air different there, cleaner, lighter.
“Okay,” you admitted. “This is nice.”
“I told you,” she said, already grabbing her bag.
You walked a few steps forward, eyes on the water, the horizon stretching out endlessly, and for a second, everything felt exactly like it was supposed to.
Peaceful, simple…
“Wait.”
You paused. Something in your sister’s tone made you turn. You knew that specific tone, the one she used for them. She was looking at her phone. Not just looking, staring.
“What?” you asked slowly, already regretting it. She didn’t answer immediately which was your first warning. “…What?” you repeated, sharper this time. She looked up. And the expression on her face…
“Oh my God,” she said.
You blinked. “No.” She turned the screen toward you. “No,” you repeated, already feeling the irritation creeping up before you even saw it.
“I knew it,” she said, like she had just proven something. “I knew it.”
You looked. And there it was, some random article, headline bold and unnecessary, talking about how Jungkook had been spotted in Busan, taking a short break with friends before his tour, photos blurry but enough to make it believable, enough to make it real.
You stared at the screen deadpan and then at her. “You’re kidding.”
“I didn’t know for sure!” she said quickly, already defensive. “I just saw something about it and thought— what if— and then the cabin thing and—”
“You planned this.”
“I didn’t plan it,” she insisted. “I just… aligned circumstances.”
You let out a short, disbelieving laugh, dragging a hand down your face. “Aligned circumstances.”
“Yes.”
“You dragged me four hours away because of a maybe.”
“It’s not a maybe anymore.”
“That’s not the point!”
She frowned. “Why are you so mad?”
“Because you lied.”
“I didn’t lie!”
“You just conveniently left out a very important detail.”
“I didn’t think it mattered!”
“You didn’t think it mattered that the entire reason you wanted to come here was because of a guy?”
She hesitated. “…When you say it like that, it sounds bad.”
“Because it is bad.”
You stepped away slightly, shaking your head, frustration settling in properly now, heavier, sharper, cutting through whatever calm the place had given you just minutes before.
“I thought you actually wanted to spend time together,” you said.
“I do!” she said quickly. “I do, that’s not— this is just—”
“This is exactly what I didn’t want,” you cut in.
Silence fell between you. The waves kept moving. The air stayed the same. But the moment shifted completely.
You stood there in the parking lot, arms crossed, jaw tight, staring anywhere but at her, the irritation sitting firmly in your chest now, impossible to ignore. And just like that the trip didn’t feel so peaceful or yours anymore.
She didn’t look as guilty as she should have. That was the problem. Instead of apologizing, or at least pretending to understand why you were annoyed, your sister just let out a small sigh, like you were the one making things unnecessarily complicated, and shifted her weight from one foot to the other before gesturing vaguely toward the beach like that alone should fix everything.
“Okay, but we’re already here,” she said, tone softening just enough to sound reasonable, which somehow made you angrier. “So can we not waste the whole day being mad? Just… enjoy it… Please?”
You stared at her for a minute. Not because you didn’t hear her, but because you did, and that made it more irritating. There was something about the way she said it— so casual, so quick to move on, that made it feel like your reaction didn’t really matter, like this was already over for her while you were still standing there, stuck in it.
“Right,” you said flatly. “Because that’s how that works.”
She frowned slightly. “I’m not saying you can’t be mad, I’m just saying—”
“No, you’re saying we should just pretend you didn’t drag me here for that,” you cut in, nodding toward her phone still in her hand. “And go sit on the beach like this is some random, normal trip.”
“It is a normal trip,” she insisted. “We came here together. We’re staying in that cute cabin, we have the whole weekend… Why are you acting like that it’s a bad plan?”
You let out a short breath through your nose, looking away for a second, because arguing in circles with her was exhausting in a very specific way. “Because that’s not why you planned it,” you muttered. “You just used me to see if you could meet this guy who doesn’t even know about your existence.”
“Well… It’s part of why,” she corrected, stepping a little closer. “Not all of it.”
You didn’t answer. Her honesty was also more irritating
A beat passed, the tension sitting there, heavy but not explosive, and then she exhaled, clearly deciding she wasn’t going to win this right now. “I’m going to the beach,” she said, grabbing her bag again before giving you the car keys. “You can stay here or in the car and be dramatic or you can come and enjoy this beautiful sunny day with me. Your choice. It’s still our trip… just with other outcomes.”
You watched her for a second as she turned and started walking toward the sand without waiting for your answer, her steps quick, purposeful, like she was physically removing herself from the conversation.
You didn’t follow immediately.
Instead, you stayed where you were, putting the keys in your pocket, shoulders slightly tense, letting out a slow breath as you looked out toward the water, the sound of the waves steady and grounding in a way that forced your thoughts to slow down whether you wanted them to or not. The beach was still quiet, only a few people scattered around, some sitting, some walking along the shore, nothing loud, nothing overwhelming.
You stood there longer than you planned to. Long enough for the initial irritation to settle into something less sharp, less immediate, even if it didn’t disappear completely.
“Bitch,” you muttered to yourself finally, dragging a hand through your hair.
You could admit, the place was too beautiful to be mad. So you could pretend for a few hours you didn’t want to beat the shit out of your sister.
You started walking toward the beach, slower than your sister had, your gaze drifting without much focus until something, someone, caught your attention. A group of guys, a little farther from the rest of the people, not close enough to draw attention but not completely isolated either, their voices faint, carried slightly by the wind. You didn’t think much of it at first, just another group, nothing special, but then…
You froze slightly. Because one of them had a hat you recognize immediately. A pink hat.
Your pink hat.
You stared for a second longer, squinting slightly like that might somehow make more sense of it, and then a small, disbelieving laugh slipped out of you before you could stop it.
“You have to be fucking kidding me,” you muttered under your breath.
There was no way.
No, it seemed it was. There was a way.
You shook your head lightly, almost amused, almost annoyed again, but in a different way now, something sharper, more specific, and started walking again, this time toward your sister, who had already claimed a spot on the sand and was in the process of setting everything up like she hadn’t just caused a minor argument ten minutes ago.
You dropped your bag next to her without a word, letting it fall into the sand as you sat down, brushing your hands together absentmindedly.
She glanced at you briefly. “So you decided to join me in this relaxing place?.”
“I decided I didn’t feel like standing in a parking lot all day.”
“I’ll take it.”
You didn’t respond, just leaned back slightly, watching her as she immediately reached for her headphones, slipping them on like she was entering her own separate world, scrolling through her phone, adjusting angles, already taking pictures of the beach, of herself, of everything.
You let your gaze drift again, slower this time, more intentional, until it landed back on the group.
They weren’t there anymore, well most of them. Because now, almost all of them were in the water, voices louder, movements easier to follow as they swam further out, leaving only one person behind, stretched out on the sand, hat still on, pulled low enough to cover most of his face.
You stared for a second. Then another. And then, before you could overthink it you stood up.
Your sister didn’t even notice. You brushed the sand off your hands, grabbed your bag and walked past a couple of scattered towels, your steps casual enough not to draw attention but direct enough that you didn’t lose momentum, your focus fixed on the figure lying there, unmoving.
Up close, it was even more obvious. Same hat, same tattoos, same moles.
You stopped right next to him, looking down for a second, watching the way he very clearly try to not react, which only made it more obvious that he was pretending to be asleep.
You tilted your head slightly. “…Is this seat taken?” you asked casually, already lowering yourself onto the sand beside him without waiting for an answer. “Because if it is, that’s really unfortunate.” No response. You glanced at him, then out at the water. “Wow,” you continued, resting your hands behind you. “What a beautiful day, huh? Beach, sun, people minding their business… very peaceful.” Still nothing. “…Oh, sorry. Did I wake you up?” you asked, leaning slightly toward him, he gave you a slight shrug. “Oh— wait, no, you’re definitely awake.” He shifted. You smiled slightly. “Since you’re awake,” you went on, completely unbothered, “maybe you can help me with something. I can’t reach my back properly and I really need to put some sunscreen on, maybe you can give me a hand?”
He moved his hand, pushing the brim of the hat up just enough to reveal his eyes and then he looked at you. Recognition hit immediately, his shoulders relaxed immediately and he let out a small huffed laugh.
“How did you know it was me?” Jungkook asked, his voice low.
You shrugged, like it was obvious. “The hat.”
He blinked once, then let out a quiet breath that almost sounded like a laugh, dropping his hand back against his chest. “Of course it was the hat.”
“I mean, you could’ve at least tried a different disguise,” you said. “This is just lazy.”
“I wasn’t trying to disguise myself.”
“Right. You just happened to wear the same very recognizable hat in public.”
He tilted his head slightly toward you. “You’re the only one who knows about the hat.”
“Fair point.”
A small silence settled, not awkward, just normal.
You looked out at the water again. “…So,” you said after a second. “What are you doing in Busan?”
“Taking a break,” he answered simply. “A couple of days before things get busy again.”
Of course he wasn’t going to tell you his manager had sent him to have a little week off there after watching the news that he had been seen with a new girl and how the CEO of Se-seil didn’t like that at all. What a better way to stay out of the rumours than going on a low profile trip with some friends that weren’t girls and that couldn’t spark heteronormative rumours, right?
“With them?” you nodded slightly toward the group in the water.
“Yeah,” he pointed out. “The one who looks like he’s drowning is the one who you own ten thousand worth of shoes.”
You frowned immediately. “It was your fault I threw up so that’s on you.”
Jungkook smiled slightly. “Fair.”
You followed his gaze for a moment before speaking again. “This is weird,” you admitted.
“A little,” he glanced at you.
“Out of all the beaches.”
“I know.”
You glanced at him again. “My sister drove here because she saw an article about you probably taking time off here.”
“That’s commitment.”
“That’s stalking,” you corrected. “Do you know how annoying is the fact that she was actually right?”
He looked at you. “Does she know you met me?.”
“Are you insane?” you shook your head. “If I tell her I would never not hear about this.”
“Yeah,” he said. “I also don’t want to risk… my life,” he added, nodding vaguely, clearly referring to your sister being a little inane without saying it.
“Good call.”
“I figured.”
Another quiet stretch settled between you, the sound of the waves filling it naturally, neither of you rushing to say anything else.
It felt… normal. Weirdly. Too normal. And that, more than anything, was what made it feel a little unreal. He was a celebrity, probably nothing about him was normal or quiet like that.
Jungkook stayed quiet for a moment after that, like he was still adjusting to the fact that this was happening again— same girl, different place, somehow even less explainable than before— before he turned his head slightly toward you, resting it back against the sand.
“So,” he said after a beat, voice calmer now, almost casual. “How’s Busan treating you?”
You shrugged, dragging your fingers absently through the sand beside you. “It’s alright.”
There was a pause. Then he turned his head fully this time, looking at you like you had just personally offended him.
“Alright?”
You blinked. “Yeah?”
“Alright?” he repeated, sitting up slightly now, brows pulling together. “That’s what you’re going with?”
You frowned a little, caught off guard by the sudden shift in energy. “What’s wrong with ‘alright’?”
“It’s my hometown,” he said, like that explained everything.
“Okay?”
“And you’re describing it as alright.”
You let out a small, incredulous laugh. “I’ve been here for like two hours.”
“That’s enough time to form a better opinion than that.”
“I saw a cabin and a parking lot,” you deadpanned. “I’m working with limited material.”
“And this beach!”
“Is just a beach.”
Jungkook stared at you for a second, then shook his head, pushing himself up fully now, brushing sand off his hands. “No, that’s not acceptable.”
You watched him, unimpressed. “Oh, I’m sorry. Should I have written a full review already?”
“Yes,” he said without hesitation. “Minimum three paragraphs.”
“Yeah, I’m not doing that.”
“You just haven’t seen the right places yet,” he continued, ignoring you completely. “You can’t judge it based on that.”
“I’m not judging it, I’m just… neutral.”
“That’s worse.”
“How is that worse?”
“Because it means you’re not paying attention.”
You narrowed your eyes slightly. “I’m literally paying attention right now.”
“Not enough,” he said, glancing around before pointing somewhere behind you. “See that?”
You turned your head, following his gaze.
A small stand, a little further up from the beach, near the parking spaces, simple but colorful, with a faded umbrella and a handwritten sign you couldn’t fully read from where you were.
“Ice cream?” you guessed.
He looked back at you, clearly pleased. “Exactly.
You raised an eyebrow. “That’s your argument?”
“That’s my starting point.” He stretched his hand to help you stand up.
You huffed softly, taking his hand before brushing the sand of your shorts. “This better be life-changing.”
“It is.”
“Don’t be so confident, your hopes are gonna crash out.”
“Nah, you’ll see.”
The walk wasn’t long, but it was slow, unhurried, the kind of pace that felt comfortable. You stayed a step behind him at first, then next to him, the conversation slipping back into something easy without either of you really noticing.
“You come here often?” you asked, glancing around.
“Not as much as I’d like,” he admitted. “But when I do, I come here.”
“To the ice cream stand?”
“To the area,” he corrected. “The ice cream is just part of it.”
“Important part, apparently.”
“Very important.”
You hummed, unconvinced but willing to play along, stopping when you reached the stand, the older man behind it greeting him with a familiarity that didn’t go unnoticed.
“Long time,” the man said with a small smile.
Jungkook nodded slightly. “Yeah. It’s been a while.” You glanced between them, then back at the menu, pretending not to notice anything while still very much noticing everything. It was clear the guy knew him, you wondered how much Jungkook trusted him to accept the fact that he was letting him know about you. A girl that could ruin his reputation if a picture was leaked. “What do you want?” he asked, turning to you.
“I don’t know,” you said, scanning the options. “Something that proves your point.”
He let out a quiet laugh. “That’s a lot of pressure for ice cream.”
“You said it was good.”
“It is good.”
“Then choose.”
He looked at you for a second, like he was trying to decide if you were serious. He decided to take it as a challenge.
“Okay,” he said finally, turning back to the man and ordering without asking again.
You leaned slightly against the side of the stand, watching as he paid, the whole thing oddly normal, like you weren’t standing there with someone whose face was always on the screen every time you turned on the TV.
He handed you one of the cones when they were ready. “Try it.”
You took it, eyeing it suspiciously for a second before taking a bite. You took a second too long to taste it.
“Okay.”
He raised an eyebrow. “Okay?”
“That’s actually good.”
“I told you.”
You took another bite, slower this time. “Fine. I’ll upgrade it from ‘alright’ to… decent.”
“Decent?” he repeated, offended all over again. “That’s the best you’ve got?”
“I’m not giving it ‘amazing’ on the first try.”
“It deserves amazing!”
“It doesn’t know me like that yet.”
He shook his head, but there was a small smile there now, something quieter, more relaxed.
You both stood there for a bit, eating, talking about nothing important, rating the ice cream like it was a serious discussion, arguing over textures and flavors like either of you had any knowledge on the subject.
“It’s too sweet,” you said at one point.
“It’s ice cream.”
“Yeah, but there’s levels.”
“This is a good level.”
“It’s a trying-too-hard level.”
“That’s a dumb argument, you are just being a hater.”
“I’m just giving you my point of view.”
He laughed under his breath, shaking his head again, like he knew about you already too much to know the fact that you were indeed just trying to argue. He opened his mouth to say something, maybe argue back but then a car passed by. You barely noticed it at first. Just another vehicle on the road, slow enough to stand out a little, but not enough to matter, until Jungkook suddenly stiffened beside you.
And then, without warning, he grabbed your arm and pulled you down with him, crouching low behind the side of the stand so fast you barely had time to react.
“What the—”
“You have to be fucking kidding me,” he cursed under his breath. And just by that you knew what it was about. “How do they keep finding me?!” he whispered sharply, peeking just slightly over the edge before ducking back down.
You blinked, still processing.
“Dude,” you said, lowering your voice instinctively. “Even my sister can find you. And she’s doesn’t even live in this country.”
“That’s not helping.”
“I’m just saying.”
He ran a hand through his hair quickly, clearly thinking, clearly calculating, before glancing toward the direction of the beach.
“They probably saw the car too.”
“Then why are we still here?” you asked.
“Because if we move too fast, it’s obvious.”
You stared at him. “You literally just tackled me to the ground.”
“That was necessary.”
“Uh, right.”
He ignored that, looking around again before nodding slightly. “Do you have your keys?.”
“Are you joking?.”
“Do you?” he insisted, looking almost too anxious.
You hesitated for half a second, already regretting that you went out of your way to talk to him. “You still owe me,” you gave him your keys.
You both moved at the same time, staying low at first before straightening just enough to walk without drawing too much attention, your steps controlled, deliberate, like you were both pretending this was completely normal. You guide him to the ugly vintage purple car.
You reached the parking area quicker than expected, your car still where you left it, your sister nowhere in sight, still on the beach, thankfully oblivious.
“This is your car?” he made a grimaced, clearly not liking it.
“This is my grandma’s car,” you corrected. “And if you don’t like you can order a damn uber.”
“Fuck,” he crouched down again when the van passed behind the car. “Fuck, fuck. Just… shut up and get in!” he screamed in a whisper, already moving toward the driver’s side.
You went around to the passenger side, pulling the handle. Suddenly the door swung open from the inside at the exact same time you leaned in.
The edge hit your forehead, really hard.
“Ow!” You jerked back immediately, hand flying to the same spot you had injured days ago, eyes squeezing shut.
“Oh, shit— sorry,” he said quickly, half out of his seat now. “I didn’t— are you okay?”
You looked at him over the window. “You have to stop doing that,” you said, pressing your hand against your forehead.
“I didn’t see you,” he said quickly. “Just, sorry— get in, get in.”
“Okay, okay. I’m in.” You quickly did, closing the door much more cautiously than necessary.
“Seatbelt,” he said automatically, already starting the engine.
You gave him a look. “Seriously?”
“Just in case.” You rolled your eyes but put it on anyway. He grabbed his phone quickly, typing something fast, his expression focused again. “Texting them,” he muttered. “They need to know.”
“Your friends?”
“Yeah.” You nodded, glancing out the window instinctively, half-expecting that car to come back around. “Here,” he said suddenly, pulling off his sunglasses and handing them to you.
You looked at them, then at him. “Why?”
“So you don’t look like yourself.”
“I don’t think that’s how that works.”
“Just put them on.” He looked for something in the drawer. “Here,” he gave you a headscarf that was from your grandma.
“Are you—”
“Just put it on!”
You did, adjusting it over your face slightly as he put down the hat and his shirt, to cover more his face. He lower down more before finally pulling the car out, movements smooth but noticeably more careful now, his posture slightly lower, like he was trying to make himself less visible without making it obvious.
The car moved slowly at first. Too slowly.
“You’re driving like my grandmother,” you said.
“They’re behind us, get lower.”
“You’re being suspicious!”
He exhaled, then pressed a little more on the accelerator, the car picking up speed just enough to feel normal, just enough to blend in. You leaned back slightly in your seat, your hand still resting lightly against your forehead, the sunglasses slipping down your nose a little as you glanced at him.
“This is insane,” you muttered.
He huffed quietly. “You’re telling me.”
The car didn’t slow down immediately after leaving the beach.
Jungkook kept driving around, doing circles more than necessary, turning once, then again, like he was making sure you weren’t being followed, like the tension hadn’t fully left his body yet even if the immediate danger had. You stayed quiet at first, leaning back in the seat, the sunglasses and scarf still on your face. After a couple of minutes he left the beach, you stayed watching the road stretch ahead through the tinted lenses while the sound of the ocean faded further and further behind you.
You both shared a look and you finally let out a small laugh.
It came out under your breath at first, like you didn’t mean to, but once it started, it didn’t really stop. Jungkook glanced at you briefly, then back at the road, a quiet exhale leaving him that sounded dangerously close to a laugh too.
“What?” he asked, even though he clearly already knew.
You shook your head slightly, taking off the headscarf and adjusting the sunglasses on your face. “Nothing. This is just—” you let out another breath, smiling despite yourself, “this is actually insane.”
“Yeah,” he said, softer now. “I know.”
There was a short pause, but it didn’t sit heavy. If anything, it felt lighter than anything that had happened so far, like something had shifted without either of you really noticing. The adrenaline from earlier hadn’t completely worn off, but it had softened into something lighter now, something almost ridiculous in hindsight, and it didn’t take long before that feeling slipped into something else entirely.
He reached his hand out slightly toward you without looking. “I need my sunglasses back.”
“Do you?” You turned your head toward him slowly.
“Yes.”
You adjusted them again, pushing them up your nose slightly, taking your time before answering. “I don’t know, man” you said casually. “I kind of like them.”
He let out a small breath that turned into a quiet laugh. “I’ll give them to you later.”
You gasped softly, sitting up a little straighter. “Oh, for real?” you said, suddenly overly serious. “Because my friends are never going to believe this. Like— ‘oh yeah, I have sunglasses from BTS Jungkook, given to me personally by Jungkook himself’— they’re going to think I’m lying.” He looked at you again, already shaking his head. “Can you autograph them too?” you added, completely exaggerated enthusiasm. “Please, please, please.”
He snorted, before sarcastically adding: “Ha. Ha. Very funny.”
“I’m serious,” you insisted. “This is a once in a lifetime opportunity.”
“Give me the sunglasses.”
You smiled slightly, dragging it out for another second before finally pulling them off your face and handing them to him. He took them back immediately, like he didn’t trust you not to change your mind, slipping them on without another word.
The car fell quiet again, but it wasn’t the same silence as before. It wasn’t tense or uncertain, it was easy now, like whatever awkwardness had been there earlier had burned off somewhere between the beach and the road. You shifted slightly in your seat, resting your elbow against the window.
“…So,” you said after a moment, glancing at him. “How long do I have to ride with you now?”
He didn’t look at you this time, just kept his eyes on the road. “Until the paparazzi leave the beach.”
You blinked. “That’s not very specific.”
“It’s the best I’ve got.”
You exhaled slowly. “Great. Love that.”
He let out a quiet breath through his nose, then tapped the wheel lightly, like he was thinking.
“Okay,” he said after a second, a little smirk growing in his face. “Come on. Let’s do something.”
You turned your head toward him. “Like what?”
Jungkook shrugged slightly. “I don’t know. Something that isn’t driving around and waiting.”
“That sounds vague.”
“It’s a starting point.”
You narrowed your eyes a little. “What do you even suggest?”
He glanced at you briefly before looking back at the road. “Well… what have you seen since you got here?”
“In Busan?”. You stared at him for a second, then let out a small breath. “I told you. Nothing.”
He frowned slightly. “Really nothing?”
“Nop, I was too busy following you around.”
The second the words left your mouth, you saw the exact moment it registered in his head. He blinked, a weird little smile growing in his face, like it was a compliment coming from you. “Really?.”
You turned your head slightly toward him, completely unfazed. “My sister,” you clarified. “She’s obsessed with you. So I’ve been dragged into that.”
He stared at you for a second longer than necessary, something like confusion mixed with disbelief crossing his face. “Oh.”
You nodded once. “Yeah. She idolized you. She’s so obsessed with you. Me on the other hand couldn’t care less about you… or this city.”
He huffed quietly, still processing the fact that you weren’t into him despise having a fan army as your sister. Although the last comment got a reaction. He straightened slightly in his seat, shaking his head almost immediately. “Okay, hey—” You raised an eyebrow. “I know you don’t like me,” he continued, glancing at you again, “but don’t take it out on Busan.”
“I’m not taking anything out on Busan,” you said.
“You called it ‘alright.’”
“Because it is.”
He scoffed softly. “No, it’s not.”
“It is.”
“It’s one of the greatest cities in the world.”
You stared at him. “That’s a bold statement.”
“It’s a true statement.”
“According to who?”
“Me.”
“That’s not a reliable source.”
“It is when I’m right. I was born here.”
You let out a quiet laugh, shaking your head slightly. “Now that makes more sense. You’re very confident.”
“I have a reason to be.”
“Oh, I’m sure.”
He glanced at you again, something more playful settling into his expression now. “Fine,” he said. “I’ll prove it.”
You frowned slightly. “Prove what?”
“That it’s not ‘alright.’ And that you should care about this city.”
You leaned back again, crossing your arms loosely. “How are you planning to do that?”
He shrugged, like it was obvious. “I’ll show you. I’ll be your tour guide.”
You stared at him for a second, genuinely caught off guard this time.
“I thought you needed to hide?”
“I do.”
“And this doesn’t go against that?”
He shook his head slightly. “I can do both.”
“This sounds like a terrible plan, Jungkook.”
Jungkook realized that was the second time you addressed him by his name. The first one was the night he slept on your floor, but you were already too sleepy to notice how much he enjoyed the way his name sounded in your mouth. He weirdly liked the way you said his name. Like you were starting to like him enough to address him by name.
“It’s a great plan.” You huffed softly, looking out the window for a second, considering it, even though you didn’t want to admit you were. He glanced at you again, a small, knowing look there now. “Hey, trust me. This will be the city of your dreams.”
“Okay,” you said after a moment, quieter now. “But you’re paying for everything.”
“Well, duh.” He nodded once, like that settled it completely.
“Great.” You shrugged. “Let’s see what Busan is about then.”
Jungkook smiled at you. Clearly excited to be the one to introduce someone his hometown.
He reached forward and turned on the radio, ready to set the mood with more enthusiasm. Music filled the car almost immediately. You didn’t react at first, just let it play in the background, your attention drifting, until you realized it was his song.
“Are you serious?” you slowly turned your head toward him.
“Come one. I know you know the words.” He turned the volume up, showing you that bunny smile before singing.
You laughed, music getting louder.
Baby, oh, please
세상이 우릴 갈라놓을 때 (Yeah, yeah)
Baby, oh, please (Oh, please)
한 걸음 더 다가설게 (더 다가설게)
For the first time ever you were belting a song of BTS… with no one else than Jeon Jungkook himself.
——————————
The city started unfolding around you properly after some minutes driving, not just streets and turns but actual places, names he pointed out casually like he knew you should know, like you were supposed to recognize them, and when you didn’t, he just shook his head like that proved his point, explaining the story and the importance of every little things Busan had to show you.
For someone who didn’t spent that much time there— even if he was born in that place— Jungkook was very proud and knew a lot of the town’s history.
“Okay, first stop,” he said, slowing down slightly before turning. “This one is very important.”
“You’ve said that about everything so far,” you replied, leaning your head against the window, watching the buildings shift around you.
“Well, it’s not my fault everything has been so important.”
“I think you’re biased because you were born here.”
“Well yes, but also you’ll see I’m right.”
You didn’t argue, just followed him out of the car when he parked, you watched him adjust the little hat you gave him you without thinking too much about it, his routine already starting to feel normal— hat, glasses, quick glance around, move. You rolled your eyes annoyed, no one was looking, but you decided not to look for another argument.
You even barely had time to ask where you were before he gestured forward.
“Gamcheon.”
You blinked, looking up. And then you took a second to look around. It was completely different from what you were imagining.
The houses weren’t just houses, they were stacked, layered, spilling down the hill in colors that didn’t feel real at first glance— blue, yellow, pink, green— like someone had painted the entire place just to show colours existed, narrow streets weaving between them, stairs going up and down in directions that didn’t make sense but somehow worked anyway.
“Okay,” you said slowly, taking a step forward without realizing. “This is not ‘alright.’”
“I know,” he said immediately, already watching your reaction instead of the view.
You turned your head toward him. “You’ve been holding out.”
“I told you.”
“You did not explain this.”
“I didn’t need to.”
You looked back at the view, squinting slightly like it might disappear if you stared too long. “This looks fake.”
“Because it’s beautiful?.”
“It looks like a movie set.”
“Better than that.” You huffed quietly, but you were already pulling your phone out before he stopped you halfway. “Wait, I’ll get you a better one.”
“What do you—”
You watched him run to a small open shop near the view where some tourist were buying stuff. He came back quickly with an instant camera. He didn’t even hesitate, already pulling it out of the package like he had been waiting or you to ask him for a picture.
“Stand there,” he said, pointing toward a spot with the houses behind you.
“Really?” you muttered, but you moved anyway, adjusting your stance slightly, trying not to look like you were posing even though you clearly were.
“Stop moving,” he added.
“I’m not moving.”
“You’re moving.”
“I’m adjusting to the camera.”
“Stop adjusting.”
You gave him a look. He took the picture anyway. The flash went off, and you blinked, already stepping closer to grab it from him.
“When I develop those it will take so long. I’m taking pictures with my phone too.”
“I’ll be worth,” he argued. “And when you see them you’ll be like— ‘Oh, I remember that. It was the best day of my life. Seeing Busan with Jungkook. Oh, now I miss him… Should I text him?”
You watched him with a dead face for an entire minute before grabbing the camera.
“Let’s go before you start getting weirder.”
“Let’s go? Babe, this is just getting started.”
Oh, no.
After that, the trip didn’t slow down. If anything, it sped up. Because once you left Gamcheon, he didn’t give you time to fully settle before dragging you into the next place, and then the next, and then the next… like he had decided he was going to prove his point in one day and wasn’t going to stop until you admitted it properly.
“Where are we now?” you asked at one point, slightly out of breath as you tried to keep up with him.
“Jagalchi,” he answered.
“That doesn’t help me.”
“It’s the biggest seafood market here.”
You stopped walking. “…Absolutely not.”
He turned back to you, confused. “What?”
“I’m not going into a seafood market.”
“Why not?”
“Because I don’t want to smell like fish for the rest of the day.”
“You won’t.”
“I will.”
“You won’t.”
“I will.”
He stared at you for a second, then sighed. “Five minutes.”
“Two.”
“Five.”
“Three.”
“Four.”
You narrowed your eyes. “…Fine. Four.”
He smiled slightly. “See? You’re learning.”
“I hate this.”
“You don’t.”
“I do.”
“You don’t.”
You did go in. And you complained the entire time. And he laughed the entire time.
And somehow you still ended up taking a picture there too, half-laughing, half-disgusted, pointing at something you refused to get closer to while he stood next to you like it was completely normal Jeon Jungkook was taking pictures of you in a fish market.
The beach came next.
A different one this time, wider, busier, but still open enough that you didn’t feel trapped in it, the kind of place that actually looked like the pictures people posted, with the skyline stretching behind it and the water catching the light in a way that made everything feel brighter.
“Haeundae,” he said.
You looked around, taking it in properly this time. “Okay,” you admitted slowly. “This one’s good too.”
“‘Good’?” he repeated.
“I’m upgrading slowly.”
“That’s annoying.”
“Don’t push me. I’m getting there.”
He shook his head, but he was smiling again, that same bunny one that kept showing up without warning.
You walked along the shore for a bit, not rushing, not really going anywhere specific, just… there, your shoes in your hands at some point without remembering when you took them off, the sand warm under your feet.
“This is where people come when they visit,” he said, snapping a picture of you and the se without you noticing.
“I can see why.”
“Finally!”
“Don’t get excited.”
“Too late.”
You bumped your shoulder lightly against his as you passed him, and he didn’t move away.
The day kept going like that.
Place after place, street after street, conversations overlapping with movement, with small jokes, with random comments that didn’t need answers, with moments that felt too normal for what it actually was. At some point you forgot you were technically hiding, forgot that this started because of paparazzi, forgot that you weren’t supposed to be here with him in the first place.
It just felt like a day. A really long, really full, slightly chaotic day.
At some point, you ended up sitting on a low wall with drinks in your hands, something cold, something sweet, something you didn’t ask for but still liked, and the camera came out again, this time without him asking.
“Give it,” you said, reaching for it.
He raised an eyebrow. “What?”
“Give it to me.”
“Why?”
“I want one.”
He hesitated for half a second before handing it over. You held it up, pointing it at him.
“Don’t move.”
“I’m not moving.”
“You’re moving.”
“I’m not.”
“Stop talking.”
“You’re talking.” You rolled your eyes and took the picture anyway. The flash caught him mid-expression, not fully ready, you laughed knowing the picture would probably look bad when you developed it at “That’ll probably be a good one,” you said sarcastically.
“I didn’t approve it!”
“Okay, let me take another one,” you charged the camera again. “But smile like you’re having the best time of your life.”
He opened his mouth to say something, probably a sarcastic comment. But he didn’t. Because what you said wasn’t completely a lie. It wasn’t a bad day, it was actually a great one and he was enjoying it very much. Something he hadn’t done in a long time. So he smiled, wide and big. That cute big bunny smile that showed all his teeth and made his nose wrinkle.
And you smiled too, so contagious of his happiness before taking the picture.
Maybe Jeon Jungkook wasn’t so bad after all.
By the time the light started changing, softening, shifting into something warmer and about to announce the start of the afternoon, you were both slower, not because you were tired in a bad way, but because there was nothing left to rush toward.
You stood somewhere overlooking the water again, the city behind you now instead of around you, the air cooler than before.
You exhaled softly, arms loosely crossed. “Okay,” you said after a moment.
He glanced at you. “Okay?”
You looked at him briefly, then back out. “It’s so much more than ‘alright.’”
There was a small pause where he just looked at you. Then he nodded once, like that had been the goal all along.
“I know.”
——————————
The road back felt almost depressing.
The car was quiet and peaceful, it felt earned after a day like that, windows slightly down, the air softer now as the day slipped toward the afternoon, both of you quieter but not in a heavy way, just peaceful, like everything had finally slowed down enough for you to actually sit in it. The city had faded behind you again, the roads opening up, leading back toward the beach, toward where all of this had started, and for a moment it almost felt like it was wrapping up neatly, like you could just drop it there and walk away like it hadn’t been completely insane.
You leaned your head back against the seat, letting out a long breath.
“Okay,” you said after a moment, almost to yourself. “I’m not gonna lie.”
He glanced at you briefly, one hand steady on the wheel. “That sounds serious.”
“It is.”
“You’re finally admitting I was right?”
“Don’t push it.” He smiled slightly, looking back at the road. You looked out the window, watching the light hit the road in the distance again, softer now, warmer. “This was a really good day,” you admitted, quieter this time.
There was a small pause. “Yeah,” he said, his tone softer. “It was perfect.”
“It was a perfect day,” you admitted with a smile, like you were aware of how cliché it sounded but didn’t care enough to stop yourself.
And that was exactly when his posture shifted.
His hand tightened slightly on the wheel, his gaze flicking to the rearview mirror again, longer this time. “You have to be fucking kidding me,” he muttered.
You frowned, sitting up slightly. “What?”
He didn’t answer right away, just tilted his head slightly so you could see past him. You turned and there it was. That damn van.
You stared at it for half a second. “No way. Okay, no, this is actually insane.”
He exhaled sharply, already adjusting his grip on the wheel. “We need to lose them.”
“Yeah, no shit.”
You leaned forward slightly, looking ahead, then back, then ahead again, your brain catching up quickly now, adrenaline hitting just as fast as before but sharper this time. You grabbed your phone to see google maps.
“Turn right,” you said suddenly.
“What?”
“Turn right.”
“There’s nothing there.”
“I know, that’s the point.”
He hesitated for half a second then did it.
The car turned sharply off the main road, tires hitting a rougher path immediately, the smooth drive from before disappearing into something uneven, dry, quieter, the kind of road that didn’t feel like it led anywhere important. Dust kicked up behind you. The van followed.
“They’re still there,” he said, glancing back.
“I see them. Okay… keep going.”
“I am going.”
“Faster.”
“I’m not trying to flip the car.”
“I’m not asking you to flip it, just— don’t drive like an old man.”
He shot you a look, but pressed harder on the accelerator anyway, the car picking up speed, the road narrowing, curving slightly, trees starting to replace open space, the air changing again. You twisted slightly in your seat, watching the van struggle behind you.
“Okay, okay— wait. Keep going straight. No, left, left, left—”
“You just said straight.”
“I changed my mind. This looks like a better way to lose them.”
“That’s not helpful.”
“It’s working, just listen to me.” He turned anyway. The road got tighter, rougher and more isolated. And just like that the van wasn’t behind anymore. “They’re gone,” you said, turning back fully this time.
He checked the mirror again. No one was behind you anymore. He let out a breath, slowing the car slightly. You leaned back, exhaling just as deeply. Silence fell for a second, both of you letting the moment settle, the adrenaline fading slower this time.
“Okay. That was good,” he said after a moment.
“Yeah, I told you.” He huffed quietly, something almost impressed in it. You put the name of the beach to show you the road back but the app quickly let you know there was an error, taking you out of the app and making you lose track of where were you. “Uhm… Okay, this is not working. Wait, I need to figure out how to get back—”
“You don’t know where we are?” he asked, confused. “But google maps—”
“Yeah, well, it’s not working anymore...”
“Great. Good job.” He said sarcastically.
“I said I’d figure it out.”
He nodded slightly, glancing around as the road stretched ahead, less defined now, more dirt than anything else. You stared at your screen, frowning.
“Why this doesn’t have any signal?”
“Because we’re in the middle of nowhere.”
“You’re not being helpful.”
“Like you are?.”
You zoomed in, zoomed out, trying again to find the spot you two were. “Okay, I think if we go—” you paused. “Wait.”
“What?”
“I think we came from that side.”
“That’s not where we came from.”
“I’m pretty sure it is.”
“It’s definitely not, we came from there.” He pointed at the other direction.
“Can you just listen to me?” You let out a frustrated breath, already angry by his bratty behaviour as if minutes ago you weren’t trying to help him. “Just turn around.”
He rolled his eyes, already annoyed with your know-it-all behaviour. “Here?”
“Yes.”
“This doesn’t look like a place to turn around.”
“Just do it!” He sighed, but slowly started turning the wheel, the car shifting awkwardly on the uneven ground. “Careful,” you added.
“I am being careful.”
“You’re clearly not.”
“I’m literally going two kilometers per hour.”
“Well, you’re not the best driver.”
He shot you a look. “You want to drive?”
“I don’t have a license, idiot.”
“Yeah, I know why. You obviously don’t know how to drive or even use simple direction.”
“We wouldn’t have this problem if you weren’t so paranoid by those vans following you. I was just trying to help you.”
“I don’t think you understand the gravity of consequences we can get if they caught us together. Do you know what could happen?”
“Let me guess, dating scandal. Big deal, just say we’re not dating and it’s over. I clearly don’t wanna date you.”
He looked offended. “And you think I wanna date you?.” He scoffed. “And that’s not how it works. The rumours would never stop and I can’t have any scandals right now… I told you— you wouldn’t understand—”
“Of course, because I’m not a superstar—”
“That is not—”
The car jerked slightly before stopping abruptly. You both went quiet for a second.
“…Move,” you said, irritated, thinking he was stopping just to infuriate you.
“I am.”
The engine revved, the car didn’t.
“Why are we not moving?”
“I don’t know.”
You turned your head slowly. “What do you mean you don’t know?”
“I mean I’m pressing the gas and it’s not moving.”
You looked down slightly then out then back at him. “We’re not moving.”
“I just said that.”
“Move the car!”
“I’m trying!”
The engine revved again and still nothing. You both went quiet for half a second longer than necessary.
“Jungkook,” you said slowly.
“Yeah.”
“I think we’re stuck.”
He exhaled sharply, looking around properly now. “Yeah. I think we are.” You pushed the door open slightly but he immediately stopped you. “Wait! Don’t move.”
“Why?”
“Because I think we’re sinking.”
“What?”
You looked down again, heart dropping slightly as he said: “This is not normal ground.”
“Oh, you’ve got to be shitting me.”
The car shifted just slightly. But enough to show you it was slowly sinking with both of you inside. You two started panicking.
“Okay, okay, get out,” he said quickly.
“Through where?!”
“The window!. Don’t open the door…”
You didn’t argue this time, saving your phone in your back pocket and trying not to panic more. You both moved fast, climbing awkwardly, the space suddenly feeling too small, too tight, the car tilting just enough to make everything worse.
“This is your fault,” you muttered, trying to steady yourself as you step on the window.
“My fault?!”
“You drove us here!”
“You told me to turn!”
“I didn’t tell you to sink the car!”
“How was I supposed to know that this was sand?!” The car shifted again. “Okay, less talking, more moving!” he said, climbing up toward the top, pushing himself out first. You followed right behind him, struggling slightly, your foot slipping for half a second before catching again. “Faster,” he said, reaching down slightly.
“I am going fast!”
“You’re not going fast enough!”
“I’m going to kill you!”
He leaned further, grabbing your arm. “Just give me your hand!”
“I have it— wait, oh no, my bag—” You reached back quickly, grabbing it before it slipped further down.
“Leave it!”
“No!”
“Leave it!”
“I’m not leaving it!.” You yanked it up, throwing it out onto the ground ahead of you.
“Okay, give me your hand—”
“Wait, my feet—”
He pulled your wrist, trying to get you to move fast which made you slip. Both of you fell forward straight into the moving sand. You landed hard, the ground shifting under you in a way that made your stomach drop immediately.
“Fuck!. Move, move—” he said quickly, grabbing your arm again to get you out of that watery mess.
“I’m trying!”
The sand wasn’t solid. It gave under your weight, pulling slightly, just enough to make every step harder than it should’ve been. You both scrambled forward, awkward, uncoordinated, pulling yourselves out inch by inch until the ground finally felt stable again. You collapsed onto it for a second, breathing harder than you wanted to admit. That had been scary as hell.
You both turned when the sand made a loud noise.
The car was still there, slowly sinking.
“…Oh my God,” you breathed. Neither of you moved. You just watched. The front dipped first, then the rest following, slower than expected but inevitable, like there was nothing either of you could do about it now. “I’m dead. I’m so dead. Fucking shit, I’m so fucking dead.”
“I—”
“Wait. Shit— My phone!,” you said suddenly, patting your pocket. You froze. “No.” You pulled it out quickly. The screen flickered before it went completely black. “No, no, no. Come on,” you pressed the button again. Nothing. You stared at it like it betrayed you. “This has to be a joke.”
He checked his too, same result. “Yeah. Mine’s gone too.”
You let out a sharp breath, standing up abruptly. “You killed my grandma’s car!”
“I didn’t kill it, it sank.”
“You were driving it.”
“You told me where to go!”
“I didn’t tell you to drive into quicksand!”
“Well it was!”
You ran a hand through your hair, turning in a circle like that might somehow fix anything. “You’re paying for all of this,” you added, pointing at him.
“I’m already paying for it,” he shot back, gesturing vaguely at everything around you.
You gave him a hard look before turning around to walk away from him and back to the beach. You couldn’t believe he got you in a stupid position like that again. You shouldn’t have talked to him or even agreed to anything.
Jeon Jungkook was still the most annoying person you’ve ever met.
“Where are you going?” he called after you.
“To the beach!” you said, turning to look at him with eyes full of anger. “Where my sister is probably freaking out and now I have to explain everything to her!” He made a face before scratching the back of his head, a little conflicted. “What?!”
He pointed to the other direction. “I’m pretty sure is that way.”
You were going to kill him.
You felt the heat slowly creeping through your skin. Your jaw tightened and your fingers grabbed your bag a little harder. You didn’t say anything, just hit his shoulder with yours as you walked to the direction he pointed out. He didn’t say anything, following right behind you.
You couldn’t believe you were stuck with Jeon Jungkook… again.
